#and he was like well why do you care if people like you you can't control that tell me what makes you feel not lonely

[nkogneatho]

𝑶𝑯 𝑴𝒀 𝑩𝑰𝑮 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 !!

— old bf!toji x young gf!reader

i think toji with a girlfriend that is so much younger than him is so adorable.

before you, he was just a man with a small room that is always so messy because he is rarely home. but, the room feels so much like home now that you have entered his life. he's never bothered to decorate or do anything. his heart flutters when he finds several photoframes hanging on the wall. one of you and him, a few of just his and a lot of megumi.

toji has never in his life ever clicked a selfie. he is not photogenic at all. so when you poke him to click one with you, he's not sure what to do in front of a camera. you tell him to just be himself and he is still confused. you lift the phone and make a peace sign with your hand, your teeth peeking out as your lips curve in a smile. you click it quickly and scan the photo. it is cute. you put a heart emoji with a wink one and upload it on your instagram. soon, your phone is buzzing with notifications. you open them and giggle. toji is so curious so he peeks and finds people calling him "the rock". He snatches the phone to scan the selfie you took earlier. you look so adorable with your cute little peace sign and smile and there he was beside you with a brow raised looking angry. "delete that shit right now," he orders. "are you kidding me? this is gold. it's going on the wall." he can't help but grin at how you find such silly things funny.

toji who is getting used to texting and wants to be even closer to you so he tries to learn some slangs. you are out with your friends when your phone chimes. you unlock it to see the text from toji.

toji: kys

you almost spit out the coffee you were enjoying. what the fuck is he on? what happened? you immediately call him.

"hello," his voice raspy.

"tojii! why the fuck would you say something like that to me?"

"what are you talking about?"

"the text you just sent me. why did you send that?"

"because i care for you, doll." you were even more confused now.

"you told me to kill myself because you care for me?"

"kill yourself? who said that? i sent K.Y.S." he spelled each letter out loud. "it means keep yourself safe." it takes you a few seconds to absorb and then you burst out laughing. he is not sure what is so funny.

"oh my poor big baby. kys means kill yourself."

oh. OH.

"i—i am so fucking sorry, princess. i was just—"

"you are so adorable. when i come home, i need to go through your google search history to know what other slangs you learnt." he is so embarrassed, he bites his lower lip. but he is also feeling so warm and fuzzy because you called him adorable. who would call a man in his mid 30s adorable? well, you did. and he is so happy about that. happier that he met you.

[aurae-rori]

DR RATIO ANALYSIS PT 3 BUT IT'S JUST GAY

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you've done part one, and part two, so why do we need a part three?" The answer is because of two things - one. I made a deal with the Tumblr Peoples that if one of my posts hit more than 50 likes I would do this analysis. Two. Mihoyo is making this shit canon. I CAN'T MAKE THIS UP. So, let's delve into my usual disclaimer, as we might have some new people joining us for the first time with my insanity.

I have been researching psychology personally for about six years, so although I am not a professional (crawling my way there through the education system. I will be one, one day.) I do have some experience with analyzing homosexuals. Psychology hours, my children. They don't call me "chronically cooking" for nothing. Maybe I should change my url to that...

NOW THAT MY LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, LET'S GET INTO THIS! It's time to deconstruct these homosexuals like a modern airplane, because they might as well be taking off with how canon they are.

"It can't be canon," they say, but then Mihoyo DOES PAID SPONSORSHIPS WITH THESE FUCKERS BEING GAY. We've all seen the paid partnership edit. We've all seen the video where Aventurine has the audio of "nice rack" as he talks to Dr. Ratio. PAID SPONSORSHIPS. Now, if that piece of evidence isn't enough for you - let's dive into their actual relationship, which is just a HOMOSEXUAL MESS. I will be focusing more on how Dr. Ratio sees this guy as this is a Dr. Ratio analysis™, but hey, the crumbs.. we eat 'em all. Amen.

Let's start off (I say as I write this part three days later) about how people are like, 'Aven is Ratio's favourite idiot' WRONG. Ratio does NOT consider Aventurine to be an idiot and knows that he is smart and capable in his own right. While Ratio is book smart, Aven is extremely street smart and holds his own very well. Ratio does not consider Aventurine to be an idiot as he takes off his plaster head around him and actually indulges in his whims around him. This is a blatant showcase of fondness because although he is emotionally constipated and can't be affectionate through words without sounding semi-backhanded because he's never had true affection in his life, he showcases his love through actions rather than words. He's just bad at showing love, okay? But he does love Aven. Or like him, to some extent, if you don't want to see them as romantic, which is fine. However, no matter what you label their bond as, it's obvious that they care for one another.

Also, the fucking ZEST FEST that was 'keeping up with Star Rail'. He says, "wait a minute - MUTUAL?" which indicates that he has respect for Aventurine in the first place. He LITERALLY TOLD US that he respects Aventurine and he was commenting on Aventurine's playstyle & everything.. also, at the end, he was here because 'I appreciate this show's dedication to knowledge' - his TONE. Kudos to the VA because that was not convincing at all. Bro was NOT here for the knowledge, bro was here to be GAY!!! Also his little own bathtub couch. We all know Aven bought it for him. Trust, I am John Hoyoverse.

"The Charming Audacity" HUH? BRO? Okay this is hilarious to me because this is the first time that we ever really see them interact with one another, and we get absolutely bitchslapped in the fact that Dr. Ratio calls this guy's audacity 'charming'. That's GAY. That's HOMOSEXUAL.

Also, comparing him to a peacock.. a very beautiful bird.... Must I say more?

Now, the part that I really want to focus on is the part where he gives the Doctor's Note to Aventurine. This shit is important. And I agree with the people who are like - Acheron helped him. Because she did. She was a big part of it and she helped Aventurine get back on his feet in the void. Dr. Ratio is not his only reason to live, but the note, showing that someone will stay by his side? Showing that someone truly cares for him? Someone who's waiting for him when he get back? This bond that he has with Dr. Ratio isn't fake. He already has a starting point to get back to - an anchor to return to. Dr. Ratio is his anchor. Whenever he goes off to do crazy shit, Veritas Ratio will be there when he returns. Because Ratio is loyal. Ratio cares. He cared enough to almost jeopardize their plan to make sure that Aventurine was going to be okay. He cares so damn much about Aventurine that he decided that this man's emotional state after the fake betrayal was more important than all of fucking Penacony.

If you want an example of "I would let the world burn for you," it's Ratio. He's a romantic not in the traditional sense, but he cares and loves Aventurine so damn much it makes my heart hurt. "Do stay alive," he says, knowing that Aventurine struggles with living. Those three words mean the whole fucking world to someone who struggles with suicidal ideation and suicidal thoughts. Someone wants you to live. Someone wants you to stay. Someone wants you by their side.

Dr. Ratio cares. Let me say that again - he cares. He banters with Aventurine, tries to create an environment where Aventurine can feel a little bit more comfortable with the two of them, even in a place as dangerous as Penacony. He will put his own life on the line for Aventurine.

He cares. He cares so damn much. I hate gay people. They make me VIOLENTLY homophobic.

Dr. Ratio after expressing his care indirectly and complimenting Aventurine indirectly: Did I do it?

Aventurine, who has caught none of the hints:

Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[holly-opal]

Is it OK if you can do Mr. puzzles x reader Again but Make it even more Romance CAUSE I REALLY LUV IT.😭

Mr. Puzzles pulled at his chains. He grunted and tugged more at it, trying to break it off the wall. Or if not that, then at least damage it enough so he can break it with a rock or something. Mr. Puzzles kicked at the wall, instantly regrets it, then wails in pain. Oh it was no use. Those meme guardians and their weirdo friends were never going to let him leave. He sat down and pulled his knees up to his face, feeling absolutely miserable. Then he heard a door opening and footsteps approaching. It was you! Holding a plate of cookies, a notebook, and dolls in your hands. He glared at you, and backed away a bit. You reassure him that you don't mean any harm and that you just want to help him. He calmed down a bit, but he still seemed upset. You sat down in front of him and set the things down, you had a cute smile on your face, Mr. Puzzles had to look away so that you wouldn't see him blushing at you.

You explained that you had a talk with the gang and they agreed that you can try rehabilitation with Mr. Puzzles. If he is good, you will give him a cookie. If he's bad, well then he'll just have to eat the rats then. Depresso won't like that. Mr. Puzzles laughed maniacally, very sarcastically. He grabbed your arm and pulled you onto his lap, you yelped in shock as you grasped onto him for support. He put a hand on your waist and lifted you chin up to make you look at him, he was grinning evilly. He had his brow raised as he smiled down on you. "And what motivates you to do this, mm? For what reason do you want to help me?" Mr. Puzzles said. You smiled with confidence, you say that you believe in people getting second chances, if they try hard enough, they can be better than what they were before. Smg3 changed, Waluigi changed, Bob (somewhat) changed. So maybe Mr. Puzzles can too. Mr. Puzzles frowned, and his hand moved away from your chin and down to your waist. He looked away from you. He looked... Almost uncertain?

"Darling, I appreciate the offer, but I can't do it. Even if I do change, nobody will accept me. I'll always be alone." You put your hands on his (cheeks?) And make him look you in the eyes. You say that you believe in him, that he can do it, that he will be accepted, even if not everyone will like him. Nobody is perfect, that's why we have to try to be good. He smiled and gave you a tight hug, you hug him back. He seemed convinced now. Wait, feel something wet on your back. You also hear sobbing. Is he crying? "Thank you... Thank you...." He said softly. You patted him on the back and grabbed a cookie from the plate you brought. You pulled away from him and held the cookie over him, he grinned. "I can eat by myself, sweetheart." You know he can. But you felt like taking care of him right now. He blushed a bit from that and he allowed you to feed him the cookie. Of course he wasn't going to reject the food, that dumbass Italian was starving him enough. You put the cookie in his mouth, he slowly ate the cookie until it was gone. He seemed flustered and shy, you laughed at how adorable he looked. You leaned in and kiss him on the forehead, his screen turned bright red aaaaand he malfunctioned. Bro died from a kiss fr fr.

[waspredteeth]

I see a lot of confusion on why calling Damian Wayne "feral" is racist/problematic, so here's a rundown.

There's a difference between calling your child or your younger sibling "feral" and calling a character like Damian "feral." You know your child/sibling/niece/nephew etc. They're real people, and unless they have a problem with it personally, then there's nothing wrong with calling them feral as a joke. It doesn't (shouldn't) affect their perceptions by other people. It doesn't become a label that follows them.

Damian al Ghul-Wayne is a fictional character. A canonically mixed Arab/Chinese/Jewish White character with a history connected to some of the most prominent Arab comic book characters, who themselves also get insanely mischaracterized.

He's constantly whitewashed. He's been written with racist undertones (the suicide bomber vest). He's had his character development and progress backtracked time and time again by DC. DC treats him weirdly most days and completely shitty in the worst stories.

A good majority of fanon hasn't done any better than DC. You cannot pat yourselves on the back for being more inclusive or mental health aware than DC when you call a mixed Arab/Chinese boy "feral". It's constant. You can come up with various titles and nuances for every Bat-character, for every Robin.

Tim can be smart, a skater, a genius, the one holding everyone together, the little brother, the one who needs love. Jason can be cool, morally "right" or "wrong", unstable, PTSD-stricken, the one who was betrayed, the one with Shakespearean tragedies. Dick can be fun, happy, the first one, the prodigal son, the one with complicated history and the big brother.

You give them room for exploration. Love and care and attention and research. Many headcanons. You either comply with canon or you don't, but there's substance to their character.

What does Damian get? He's feral. He's rabid. He's a gremlin. He can't be reasoned with. He has no self-control, he's impulsive. He's hurt others, and you can't forgive it. Sometimes he's homophobic. Or classist. Or plain mean and rude to your favorite boy. He's always carrying a sword. A psychopath with no regard for another's well-being (usually Tim in a lot of fics). He can't be taught what's right.

I've seen people cry that Damian needs to punished or kicked out or treated the same way he's treated others. He needs to be brutalized or talked down to. He can never grow as a person, because he's mean to Tim or Jason, and you need him to exist as the abuser. His first move is always violent.

Fanon compares him to an animal often; he bites, claws, hisses, growls. Bruce or Dick or Jason or Tim have to wrangle him, tame him, civilize him the white man's way in lieu of his brown mother and grandfather who "clearly" raised him wrong. You don't see the issue with that? The issue with always labeling one of the few major brown characters in Batman comics as the unreasonable animal? That the child of color is always the abuser, the instigator, to older characters?

And even if you don't see him this way, you don't write him this way - then are you giving him the care and attention you give for other Bat characters?

Do you know anything else about him other than his "anger"? Because he isn't always angry. In fact, he's typically well-mannered. Quiet even, when he's not being provoked. DC's writing will always vary but whenever Damian lashes out, he's usually written with a reason to act the way he does.

Are you making him intelligent like he should be? A hard believer in redemption? A neglected and abused child who isn't meek or crying or closes himself within? Are you willing to explore that he's always exhibited the "wrong" kind of trauma responses - lashing out, being snippy, ruining relationships, refusing to admit weakness?

Do you write anything about him without making his mother and grandfather comically abusive and violent? Will you give him the supporting cast/friends he actually has? Can you write his dad/siblings interacting with him without making them white saviors or therapy pets? Can you write him without a ship or his love for animals or being vegetarian overshadowing everything?

Is he a character to you at all other than a glorified plot device with a sharp tongue and the convenience of being violent?

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger 

Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?

TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation

RATING: explicit

AO3

Chapter 2

The next day, during your lunch break, you made another attempt to persuade Raphael to take his clothes off. The clock struck noon; your private laptop was on the right side of your desk, while your work laptop was on the left, Teams open and your mouse ready to show signs of activity from time to time.

The sun was shining through the wide open window, children playing outside. Idyllic. Nothing sinister could be happening in broad daylight with those happy sounds in the background. The horror movies told you so. Except for Midsommar.

Well, screw Midsommar, then. This isn’t Sweden.

"All right, I'm going to set some ground rules here," you said to the loading screen. "I can be as creepy as I want to be to you, because you're just a bunch of pixels, but you can't do anything creepy to me, because I'm a human being. Got that? Good."

The sound of your voice made you feel braver.

As you heard the familiar sinister 'you-let-the-villain-win-bad-player' music in the background, you covered your eyes with your hands and peered through splayed fingers.

Then he appeared. Just as you had wished. Perfectly naked, with a stereotypical video game six-pack and just the right amount of body hair. The orange lighting made his skin glow, and his flaccid penis, like that of the game's generic male model, vanished from sight as he strode closer.

Your ears pricked up to listen to the scripted monologue you knew by heart, watching (waiting?) for any hiccups or new animations, the YouTube app on your phone playing the identical scene for comparison.

Everything happened exactly as it should, word for word, save for the speaker’s nudity.

All good. You breathed a sigh of relief and spread your fingers wider to admire Raphael a little better. 

Same as always. Handsome and charming and completely imaginary, which, now that you thought about it, was the biggest part of his charm. 

"Ta-ta... for now," Raphael's signature line echoed through the room.

"Bravo, Raphael," you praised the screen. "You've done nothing creepy. You have earned your title of Archdevil Supreme."

After waiting for a response that never came, you laughed off your silliness and shook your head. Your laptop was overheating, giving off a slight synthetic smell. Should have upgraded a long time ago. Just need to put enough money aside.

"OK, screenshots," you said. "I wanted to take some screenshots. Do you mind, Raphael? Can I have your consent? They’ll help recruit more followers for you, my liege."

Your phone vibrated. The FaceID gave you a preview of the Discord messages from Queen-of-the-Bored, one of the few Raphaelites you'd actually spoken to directly and felt like you kinda sorta knew.

queen-of-the-bored: ngl that was some really funny joke, we spent the whole night trying to recreate it :-D queen-of-the-bored: you sounded legit worried over that voice message tho haha you: it was legit. check the reddit thread queen-of-the-bored: which thread

Ok, let me google that for you. You typed in the same search words as yesterday, "Raphael naked mod April prank," clicked on the thread from yesterday, and skimmed through the comments.

“nah not joking there is this naked mod for teenage mutant ninja""

“all dongs appeared MASSIVE on April’s first”

Scrolling further, you realized that was not the correct Raphael - it's Raphael the Turtle, not Raphael the Devil. Why was there so much NSFW content about him? What did people see in turtles?

You quickly corrected your search to "Raphael BG3 naked mod April prank," but it didn’t bring back any relevant results. So, you changed it to "last twenty four hours" just to be thorough.

Didn’t help. Nothing. You were the only to be called a naughty little mouse. The special one.

queen-of-the-bored: which thread dude??? you: my bad it was the turtle queen-of-the-bored: ??? queen-of-the-bored: I am slowly getting worried about you haha

Next step? Contact the mod developer directly? What if they have no idea what you're talking about?

Then what? What were the alternative theories? You've been hacked and doxxed to madness for that one Twitter post that got people waving pitchforks at you? 

There you go, you were scared again. Daytime, sun shining and children playing outside, but there you were, alone in your flat, scared again.

You took a deep breath and looked at the screen. "All right, I understand, Mr Archdevil Supreme. No screenshots. I'll uninstall the mod and I apologise for my disrespectful behaviour."

You couldn't bear to see Raphael's face on the screen again so you hit ctrl alt delete instead of Escape and stared blankly at the Task Manager.

Next, you uninstalled the mod that had caused all this trouble. Then you went to Tumblr and removed the reblog of Raphael in a cat playsuit with the tag "my poor miau miau". Then you deleted your bookmarks on AO3. Your Twitter account was beyond repair, so you deleted it altogether.

None of these actions made you feel any better. You grabbed a quick cup of shrimp noodles, but eating it only made you feel worse. As you tasted the sodium on your tongue, you came to a realisation: what you needed was to go the fuck outside.

You had been stuck in your flat and home office since the start of the pandemic, chronically online. Online work, online colleagues, online friends, who was the last real person you saw, talked to and hugged?

Your mum, probably. 

Oh yes, no wonder you were going mad. You need to get out there and meet some real people. You opened Discord, quickly scrolled past the sketch of Tav giving Raphael head, and typed a message: you needed to touch grass.

queen-of-the-bored: well there is Comic-Con this weekend  you: this is NOT touching grass, this is burning it queen-of-the-bored: true you: besides not going alone queen-of-the-bored: maybe Raph will keep you company 😈 

What? Such a strange thing to say. Or was it? Who the hell was that behind the screen anyway? Apparently someone called Sammy from Ohio. Supposedly. Wasn’t she the one who recommended this mod?

She was.

Come on, you're just letting your paranoia get the best of you.

queen-of-the-bored: oh BTW I found THE hottest Raph smut  queen-of-the-bored: mind the tags it's so hot but soooooo fucked up queen-of-the-bored: just read it trust me thank me later

Who the hell were you, Sammy from Ohio, Korilla? You put the phone down and started pacing around your small flat. It was not much to pace around, only forty-two square meters. 

At least you rent a flat in a building with other people and not some house at the edge of the forest. Strangers live below you, above you and on either side of you. They don't know you and you don't know them... but they were there, just in case...

Just in case.

"You know what?" you said to your computer. "I need a break. I need to focus on my mental health. Self-care, Raphael. I'm not playing with you. For now".

The moment you finished speaking, your phone lit up again with another notification. This time it was an email. You made a mental note to start managing your notifications better.

Did you enjoy your Devil Dick © - Natural Red experience? We know you will be back for more 😈 Check out the new...

What the fuck? Oh no, no, click away and make a mental note to never order from Bad Dragon again with customer satisfaction emails like this. It's borderline harassment. You ordered from them ONCE, as a joke, just to see what ridges might feel like.

Not as good as the smut had promised you,

Private. Private stuff. Between you and your bed drawer. Between you and your browser. God, how much stuff you have in your browser history. You should have used incognito mode more often.

Would that have helped? 

"That was low, Raphael," you muttered. "Or is it Haarlep today?"

You glanced around your room before angling your computer screen towards the wall, then retrieved the Devil Dick © from its hideaway in your bedside drawer. Your fingers grazed over the silicon ridges as you swiftly stashed it away in a box beneath the bed.

"If you must know, it was too big for me. Flattered?"

Crawling out from under the dusty bed, you looked up and realized for the first time that anyone in the building could easily peep into the flat if they tried hard enough or cared enough to do so.

Enough is enough.

You need to hydrate, you need to eat some vegetables, you need to start jogging again and you definitely... you definitely need to go out and talk to some real people. Maybe it's time to get back on Bumble and try your luck again. Who knows, it might actually work this time.

He wouldn't like that.

Where did that thought just come from? He wouldn't like it, who the hell cares what some imaginary devil thinks.

Standing up straight, you pointed a finger at the screen in front of you.

"Raphael, just so we are clear, you and I: I really like you. I do PR for you every day for free. You don't have to scare me to get my attention. You should appreciate me and be nice to me. I'm the best agent you'll ever have.”

Having made your point, you put on your running shoes and AirPods. It brought back memories of all the times you had jogged through the nearby park. Afterwards you'd sit on the bench and eat an ice-cream, watching couples, happy and glowing, watching families with children, happy and stressed, watching people living their lives in a reality parallel to yours, and then you'd come home and go into a reality parallel to theirs.

The AirPods picked up right where they left off last time.

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear

I wanna fucking tear you apart

You removed the AirPods from your earlobes and exhaled. This wasn’t Raphael's fault. This is She Wants Revenge, you have listened to it a thousand times. You knew the lyrics, they hadn't changed. 

You can't even listen to music anymore. Pull yourself together. 

Get some vitamins from the pharmacy.

Touch some goddamn grass.

***

You stuck to your digital and physical diet until the weekend, and as a reward, nothing happened. No oddly timed emails, no strange messages, no random phone calls. Maybe it was your pitch talk or the vitamins you started taking, but either way, Raphael was on his best behavior, and so were you. 

No Tumblr, no AO3. Didn't even touch Steam. Got into a highbrow podcast about the Roman Empire.

You set a new personal record for days without 'self-indulgence', as Raphael would put it, although that wasn't really the intention. Something always seemed to interrupt - whether it was the loud hum of the fridge (which was always obnoxious) or the flickering light in the hallway (which had been broken for over a week). 

By Friday, you had finally finished the work projects you had been putting off for months. The job wasn't too bad, but it hadn't been any fun for years, if it ever had been. You did the bare minimum to get the paycheck and keep the job, and your employer kept the paycheck at the bare minimum to keep you. If there was anything else you could do, you would do something else.

Still, this was probably the most productive week you had in years. You scrubbed your flat from top to bottom twice and cleared your wardrobe of clothes that no longer fit.

You were proud of yourself.

Gradually your sense of security began to return. You tried not to dwell too much on the incident with the naughty little mouse; if you didn't think about it, it almost felt like it hadn't happened.

On Friday, you plucked up the courage to play BG3 again, wandered through Baldur's Gate, avoiding the House of Hope for the time being, had a few fights, played the graveyard scene with Astarion (daring, but a small part of you hoped it would make Raphael jealous enough to come out again), and shut it down. 

Nothing out of the ordinary.

You hadn't planned to go to Comic-Con. For one thing, it was on the other side of the city, in the business district of the convention centre, so it would take at least an hour to get there. Secondly, going alone just felt... weird.

It was not until Friday night that a little voice in your head started to whisper, "Why not? Maybe you'll meet some like-minded people”. Make some friends you can actually touch (not in a creepy way). 

It's a better chance than endlessly swiping on Bumble.

Maybe you'll meet...

Neil Newbon. If you can get past the hordes of fangirls. Andrew Wincott. No, Andrew Wincott wouldn't be there; you'd checked beforehand. To be honest, hearing his voice might have been too much for your psyche at that moment.

So you decided to go. You went, and it was as fun as you had imagined it would be - that is, hardly any. The convention hall was huge and crowded, rows and rows of stalls, crowds and crowds of people. Live panel discussions, cosplayers, flashing lights, bright colors, chatter, laughter, very loud, very lively.

Raphael wouldn't last a minute in that chaos.

"Hell is other people," you thought to yourself, quoting Sartre. If you ever met Raphael, you'd quote Sartre to him too. He must know that you read intelligent books and not just fanfiction. 

Some people might be comfortable going to events and eating alone in restaurants, but not you. It's even worse being the odd one out in a group of odd ones. How come all the others had someone to take along? Where did they find all those people in this godforsaken city?

You talked to a few people and a few people talked to you. Nothing really took off. Your mind was elsewhere, to be fair. You were looking for something in the crowd. 

Someone.

It was absurd, yes, but so was what happened this week with the mod. You had met a few Raphael cosplayers, three at least, but they were...

Well, of course they weren't him. But they did a great job with the clothes and the hair and the make-up, and one had really great prosthetic horns, and you touched them and admired them and praised that particular Raphael for all his hard work in creating them.

They were real people, not video game characters that had come to life, and neither were you. You looked down at your jeans, at your thighs, and thought you should start jogging again, and felt even less comfortable in your own skin. 

Then Neil Newbon came along and things quickly became too chaotic for you.

You decided to take a break and walked down the street until you came across a cosy café - none of that generic chain stuff, but something that tried hard to be authentic with pretty flowers in the windows.

Sitting alone at a table for two, you looked down at your phone and opened the Discord chat because you came here to talk to some real people.

In the main chat, there was a heated debate about whether devils are allowed to torture mortals into signing contracts. Both sides presented arguments based on lore, edition contradictions, past precedents and personal conviction. 

A man's voice interrupted you as you typed your own very elaborated opinion of hellish law. "Excuse me, may I?" he asked, his words slightly muffled by the AirPods.

"Sure," you replied with practiced friendliness, not even looking up. That was always your default answer. It's not like you can say no to this kind of request anyway. 

People ask and do a lot of things out of politeness. That was precisely why you took the AirPods out of your ears.

The moment you lifted your eyes to meet the man's, you learned the true meaning of the word 'jumpscare'. Your body jerked upwards, the table shook and the coffee cup tumbled - narrowly missing Raphael.

Raphael. 

Not a man who looked like Raphael, not a man who was dressed like him - Raphael. 

You weren't sure if you made any sound or uttered any words. You probably yelped.

What you did do for sure was gawk.

His skin tone identical; hair slicked back just right; eyes uncannily accurate in hue and shape - down to every wrinkle. A perfectly realistic rendering. Not the uncanny valley type, no, perfectly believable. This is exactly what he would look like if he were real and swapped his fantasy clothes for a business suit.

So this is what it feels like to go completely insane.

Very banal, actually. You are having a psychotic breakdown and no one is even looking at you, except for an imaginary devil.

"Oh my, my apologies," Raphael said as he quickly grabbed napkins to mop up the spreading lake of coffee on the table. "I did not mean to scare you."

Oh, but he did, very much. You could not breathe, your chest encased in an iron brace of fear. It's you who needs to apologise, and apologise fast, and apologise a lot, and beg for mercy. Especially for liking the Twitter art of him being spit-roasted between Yurgir and Haarlep. 

If you only knew... you would never have clicked on it... absolutely never... all those posts you wrote... 

"Raphael?" you managed to squeak out. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

This must be how a deer feels in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

He looked at you, very sincere confusion etched across his handsome face. "Excuse me?"

You drew in a shaky breath, your nostrils flaring as you tried to catch a whiff of cherries under the aroma of fresh coffee, not caring how absurd you appeared. Yes? No? Or was that strawberry jam on his croissant? Have your senses gone haywire? Your mind certainly has.

"You're... you're here to cosplay Raphael?" 

The thought tumbled out of your mouth before it had time to fully form in your head. It was the only explanation that made sense... It didn't, but it made more sense than all the others put together.

Raphael moved closer, pulled up a chair and asked, amused: "I beg your pardon, I'm here to do what to whom?"

The voice. The voice was the same. Andrew Wincott's voice. The man had simply stolen his voice. Or had the man stolen it from him? The movements, the mannerisms, the facial expressions. This man could not be Raphael because...

Well, because this man was real. As real as you were. 

"Raphael," you explained. "From the video game. Are you here to cosplay... to play... Raphael?"

The man gave you a look as if questioning your sanity, and rightfully so. You were also sweating bullets - could he see the damp patches under your hoodie? You pressed your arms against your sides; wouldn't want him noticing.

"I'm hardly an actor," Raphael replied with a polite smile, "although there was a time in my youth when I entertained such ambitions."

He chuckled lightly and took a leisurely sip of his coffee. 

"I'm here to enjoy my espresso, nothing more. I... have never been particularly fond of..." he added with the disdain of a typical middle-aged man, "... video games.”

You had no response for that because Raphael wouldn't be into video games either; that much was believable.

"My office is across the street," he said, pointing towards the office complex opposite you. "Precisely there."

The golden sign on the building across from you, Kirkland & Ellis, told you nothing, except that Raphael had an office job and an office space and a desk and all the things that the devil shouldn’t have because the devil invented them to torture the others.

Raphael was dressed like he had just stepped out of a board meeting. A three-piece slate gray tailored suit, white shirt peeking out from underneath, silk tie and matching pocket square. Of all the modern Raphael AUs, you preferred the Professor one, you voted for it, you had Sucharide’s fic bookmarked. The Professor was more, ugh...

Safe.

As for you, you were wearing a hoodie with your university on it. A clean hoodie, but a hoodie nonetheless. What the hell else would you be wearing to Comic Con? You didn't do your hair. Well, putting it in a ponytail is not doing your hair. Why did you not do your hair? 

"I know, I know, you must be wondering why anyone would toil on a weekend," Raphael continued. That was the last thing you were wondering. "Alas, no rest for the wicked."

"Wicked?" you echoed. You looked at the people in the cafe, sure they were staring at the both of you, but they weren't.

"Oh," he chuckled lightly, "it's just an expression – 'No rest for the wicked.' You've never heard it before?"

"Of course I have," you said, momentarily embarrassed. "Never mind...sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Raphael raised his eyebrows. "In fact, I should be the one to apologise for startling you. May I offer you another cup of... ah, what was that... cappuccino? After twelve? Tsk-tsk, young lady".

Not a single modern man could ever manage to say the words "tsk-tsk, young lady" as charmingly. That was Raphael.

"No bother, I can get one myself," you said quickly, about to stand up. 

He raised his hand slightly and put it down to halt your movement, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you, and if he had, if you had felt the skin of his skin, he would have felt more real and you would have died on the spot from a bursting heart.

"I have no doubt about that. But may I treat you? It would be my absolute pleasure”.

Pleasure. The way he said the word was straight obscene. You couldn't handle the word 'pleasure' coming from a man who had been responsible for more than half your orgasms in the last few months.

So in your daze, you mumbled: "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Raphael stood up and walked over to the barista. She acknowledged him, so that's one point for him being real and you not hallucinating. Not only did she acknowledge him but she flashed him a goofy grin - clearly smitten.

Of course she is.

You have to take a picture of him. How do you take a picture of someone without their consent without being a total creep?

You don't. It's in the fucking definition; you can't. But you should. Maybe you'll open your camera roll and see someone completely different, and then you'll know it's time to call for mental health services.

Your phone was buzzing with messages, which you quickly swiped away and went straight to the camera. You took a picture of him from behind while he ordered you a coffee. The barista gave you a “fucking weirdo” look. 

Fuck you, you thought, you have no idea what I am going through right now. Then you switched to the camera roll and checked to see if the photo reflected what you saw.

A broad, fit back of a very attractive middle-aged man with lush brown hair, paying for coffee with cash.

You couldn't decide whether this made you feel better or worse.

When Raphael returned with your cup, you had something for him too. "This is the character I was talking about," you said, a screenshot of virtual Raphael ready on your screen.

Anyone who saw the screenshot would say, "Who motion-captured me?" 

Not Raphael. He barely glanced before shrugging and handing your phone back. "Hmm, I see some resemblance, I guess."

Resemblance? What fucking resemblance? There was no resemblance; he WAS Raphael! You were about to argue but he beat you to it: "Why? Were you hoping to meet this...Raphael?" 

His voice dropped an octave and he looked at you intently. He was flirting - openly, unashamedly.

"I...I was," you stammered out. "He's my favourite character."

Brilliant, brilliant line. Dear diary, today I wanted to meet Raphael, my favourite character from my favourite game. So much for quoting Sartre.

"Well now, I'm flattered," Raphael purred, causing you to wriggle uncomfortably in your seat. "I do bear some physical likeness."

That was a massive understatement. 

The man had a disarmingly charming smile. You tried to remember if Raphael had ever smiled like that in the game. It was mostly scowls and grins and smirks, but this kind of smile? You didn't think so. You caught a glimpse of yourself in his hazel eyes, and that was not Tav; that was you. Just you.

Not that you were unattractive or anything. Average. Maybe even a little pretty on a good day. You didn't like yourself very much. Then again, most people don't. That's how the beauty industry makes its money. 

You got your share of attention, some, nothing to brag about. Had two boyfriends, it didn't work out, you used to care, now you don't. Certainly never got any attention from men who looked like him.

Why should this man be interested in you, why? Ah, yes. Your soul. He probably wants your soul. Is it worth much at all? Is it worth coming all the way to Earth? You wanted to apologize to him for going through all this trouble just for you.

"So this event in the convention hall down the street..." he snapped his fingers as if trying to recall a forgotten name.

"Comic-Con 2024," you supplied. "It's huge in fandom culture. TV shows, video games, that sort of stuff.”

"Ah. Not my kind of entertainment - or my kind of audience, for that matter," Raphael said with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyeing the “Astarion approves” badge on your backpack.  "It does remind me of a deal I signed recently."

"Deal?" you asked in a weak voice. He nodded. "What deal? With who?"

"With who? No, I meant the Microsoft-Blizzard acquisition". 

Ah, that kind of deal. The words felt so reassuring, so real, the acquisition. Raphael would have no idea about these words. Raphael wouldn't say "Microsoft". You mean the real Raphael. What the hell is a 'real' Raphael again?

For the first time, you let go of a little tension. You took a first sip of your coffee and leaned back slightly in your chair. 

"Actually, I think these acquisitions are really harmful for the industry," you said. 

Why did you have to be so confrontational? You didn't have anything clever to say about such things, so you spoke the truth instead. Bad idea.

"How candid of you to say that. Well, I’ll be just as candid with you: I am indeed a villain." Raphael grinned. "I hope you can forgive me." 

There went your short-lived relaxation, which lasted less than a minute.  Raphael had just looked at you and said "I am a villain". Challenge him. Tell him it's him because, well, it's him. It can only be him. Tell him you know it's him, and then...

And then what?

"Everybody's got a job to do, I guess", you managed to utter the most generic phrase in existence.

"Isn't that so..." Raphael replied, pausing for a moment before finishing the sentence with your name.

You did not introduce yourself to him. You were sure of it. Absolutely sure. 

"How do you know my name?" you asked, half rising from your chair, raising your voice and quickly lowering it again. "I didn't tell you my name. How do you know it?"

Raphael gestured to your phone, which lay on the table screen between the two of you. Your work ID card was tucked away in its transparent case - something you hadn't needed for a while.

It had your first and last name on it.

"I saw it right before my eyes," he explained. "I thought it was a hint."

"It wasn't," you said.

"Oh, another faux pas on my part then," he said. "At this rate, I owe you something to make up for all my many transgressions. Perhaps dinner?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. One of your popular Tumblr posts had been an impassioned rant about how Raphael had promised a similar in-game offer but failed to deliver despite the many times you gave him the Crown.

"I seem to have absolutely terrified you, and that was not my intention. I insist on making it up to you. If you allow me, of course. I don't want to impose. Would you allow me to?"

He looked at you with the intensity of a man admiring a beautiful woman, his shoulders back and chin slightly up, trying to present himself from his best angle - something you've seen men do before, but rarely (if ever) to you. It was as if he could hang on every word that came out of your mouth, simply because he enjoyed watching your lips move. Raphael looked like he was in love, for Christ's sake.

Your cheeks grew warm. 

"Yes," you replied.

He kept silent for a bit, savouring your answer. 

"Splendid. Where might I collect you?"

It took you a moment to realise that he was asking for your address. Your personal address. Shouldn't he know it already, if he was Raphael? You replied as nonchalantly as possible:

"Why don't I give you my number and we can arrange to meet at the center?"

His expression darkened slightly; you've seen this look in the game before.

No, you shouldn't have said that. You wanted him to like you. 

Desperately.

"You don't trust me?" Raphael's voice dropped an octave or two, playful and just a little threatening.

You felt his breath on your face (cherries?) and the next second you stopped feeling your legs. The attraction that had been simmering inside you for months started boiling over.

Breathe. Pretend it's not Raphael. A man came up to you in a coffee shop and asked you if you trusted him in that kind of tone, leaning in like that. You know what the sensible thing to do would be - get up and walk away. And if it really was Raphael, get up and run away. 

You remained seated and stayed. 

"Just, ugh..." was all you managed to get out of the jumbled thoughts in your head; two coherent sentences so far into the conversation, and both of them made you sound like an absolute madwoman. 

Raphael laughed.

"Of course you don't trust me, that's only prudent, and you seem to be quite an intelligent young lady. But just so we are clear, you and I: you have nothing to fear from me. What is that number of yours?"

Quite an intelligent young lady, the words echoed in your mind and you remembered your naughty anonymous Tumblr confession: I would suck every last drop of cum out of him as long as he kept praising me.

God, everything you've read with him in the main role. Double penetration, double vaginal penetration, pet play... you weren't even into half of it. You hoped Raphael didn’t think you actually wanted him to do all of the things you read with you.

You just liked clicking on random links.

"Do you need something to write it down or...?" you asked hesitantly.

"I will remember," he said curtly. “I do not forget things easily”.

You realised that there was something far more frightening than anything that had happened before: that he wouldn't remember, that he would never call you, and that this conversation and this meeting would end there. 

So you carefully enunciated each number, then took a pen from your pocket and wrote it down on a napkin: it seemed romantic in the movies, but your handwriting and the coffee stain made it look like a secret message from the madhouse.

He grinned and tucked the napkin into the pocket of his suit.

He took the last sip of coffee and then took your hand in his. He touched you. His skin was warm and real and soft and everything you had ever imagined, his touch surprisingly tender. 

Your whole body responded to that tiny crumb of affection, viscerally. You hadn't realized how famished you were for a touch until that moment.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed them against yours. His lips were soft too, slightly damp from the coffee.

"I am looking forward to our rendezvous," Raphael murmured against your palm. "Ver much so."

Rendezvous.

In any other situation, a middle-aged man kissing your hand would be downright creepy. But this... this was a fever dream, an illusion, anything but reality. Because there was no way this madness could actually be happening to you.

Was it a bad thing? Was reality ever... this? So unpredictable? So exciting? 

You only snapped out of it when the door closed behind him, but you snapped out hard. You practically threw yourself at the next table, where a group of guys were sitting, their appearance screaming video games - backpacks and scruffy beards, Warhammer-emblazoned T-shirts. 

You grabbed one by the shoulder and hissed urgently: "Guys-guys-guys-guys." Your words came like rapid fire. "Tell me that guy doesn't look exactly like Raphael from Baldur's Gate? That one? On the street behind the window?" 

Damn, you sounded desperate.

"Ah, sorry, never played it," came the nonchalant reply before he turned back to his friends' conversation.

"Baldur's Gate," chimed in another, his face lighting up. "Amazing game. Looks like who?"

"Raphael," you said. "The devil."

The guy laughed, but didn't even look where you were pointing.

"Ah, the two-pump chump?"

You shot a quick glance at Raphael. His eyes met yours through the glass window, and they were cold now; his smile was gone. 

I didn't say that, you pleaded with him in your thoughts. That guy said that. That guy over there. I would never say that.

Your defence of his bed skills stretched from Reddit to Tumblr threads, you argued that Haarlep was slandering him, that Raphael was the best fuck there ever was and you personally vouched for that because you fucked him a thousand times in your head.

"Don't call him that, please," you whispered to the guy. He gave you a confused look when you pointed at Raphael again: "Look at him. The one staring at us. Does he look like him?

Is he real? Do you see him too?

"Ah yes," he admitted with a grin on his face, raising the cup of coffee to his lips, "he sort of does. Yes, he does! Well, I hope he doesn't...oh shit! FUCK!".

The guy's face contorted in pain as he clutched his mouth, jumping, cursing, tears streaming down his face. You could see the skin on his lips reddening and blistering.

"What the fuck?! It's fucking boiling! FUCK! "

The barista rushed over to him, spewing apologies as she tried to handle the situation. You took a step back and glanced at Raphael whose lips were moving subtly - two syllables that matched rhythmically: 'bye-bye' or maybe 'ciao-ciao'. 

It didn't have to be 'ta-ta'. He waved nonchalantly at you.

You waved back.

NEXT: Chapter 3, In Which Larian Introduces The Raphael Romance

[defectivehero]

Hello! If ur requests are open, I'd love to see a villain or hero trying to break down the walls of their enemy, who's whole purpose is to be a tool. Denied everything for the sake of a single goal, a mere sacrifice, destined to die :)

this ask is so peko pekoyama & izuru kamakura coded. and i love it so much. warnings: manipulation, child abuse, graphic depictions of injury/violence/blood, dehumanization

"Ah, you're awake," the villain realizes aloud, looking at the hero. "I was hoping to get some answers from you."

The hero is silent. They look surprisingly calm, despite the situation they find themself in: bound to a chair, a blindfold secured around their eyes. They don't look unnerved, startled; there's no emotion in their expression—no modicum of energy or presence to denote them as even remotely human.

Admittedly, this hero has intrigued the villain, ever since the moment they met. The hero had moved with a mechanical precision, and the villain was surprised to find that their precision extended to every other facet of their life. There is no boundary between work and personal life for the hero—because they simply don't have a personal life. At least, that's what the villain has found. They'd love to be proven wrong at this point—would love to be proven wrong about their lingering suspicions regarding the cruelty of the local hero agency.

"What did you want to ask about?" The hero asks, as if they are the one controlling the conversation. And maybe they are. The villain blinks, thrown back into reality.

"Why are you...?" The villain tries to say. They're not quite sure how to proceed. They take a slow breath and start pacing around the hero, hoping to quell their restless energy. They are the one in control. "No. What did the agency do to you?"

"Why do you care?" The hero hums. There isn't a denial of any kind—"They didn't do anything to me" wasn't a response. The villain's stomach stews in unease.

"Answer the question," the villain demands.

"Very well," the hero answers carefully.

In hindsight, the villain should've braced themself for the answer. They were so focused on the question that they neglected to prepare themself for the nearly infinite amount of possibilities—unspeakably cruel possibilities. They're suddenly grateful that they blindfolded the hero—grateful that the hero won't be able to see their expression. Because what they say next breaks the villain’s composure.

"I was seven when it happened… My powers manifested. I didn't know how to use them. It was bound to happen."

"...What was bound to happen?" The villain hears themself say. Their voice sounds like a stranger’s.

"I was kidnapped walking home from school. One moment, there was a sharp pain on the back of my head; the next, I woke up to a glass cage and a manacle secured around my ankle."

The villain is biting the inside of their cheek so hard they can taste blood. They shouldn't be surprised, but they are.

"I didn't know where I was or what was happening. I was just a child." The hero continues. The villain wants to think that there's a trace of emotion in the hero's voice after the latter statement, but they get the feeling it's just their imagination.

"For a while, I was alone. I don't know how long. I tried to summon my powers, but they still weren't under control. I nearly killed myself in my attempt to escape.

"Then, someone visited. It was a man in a dark suit. He unlocked the cage, or manipulated it, I can't remember—and walked up to me. There was a glass of water in his hand. I was so thirsty.

"I was too young to know any different, too young to question what was clearly a kind gesture. I took a sip... My vision spiraled and I fell to the ground.

"I woke up on an operating table, with people staring down at me through advanced medical equipment. Tears were slipping down my cheeks, from the brightness of the lights above. Someone secured a mask on my face. I tried to stay awake, but I couldn't move.

"I woke up on the floor of my cage, in a pool of my own blood. There was a giant wound on my forearm, leaking pus. I dry-heaved over and over again. Nothing came up.

"I got a lot of visitors after that. It was clear that they did something to me. Suddenly, I was getting meals three times a day, books and video games to keep me busy... I must've been eight or nine years old at that point—old enough to understand that I was nothing more than a lab rat."

It takes them several moments for the villain to find their voice. "...And then?" They manage to ask. They stopped pacing minutes ago—now they're standing across from the bound hero.

"Then I was trained," the hero says. "Brought to the brink of my exhaustion over and over again, day after day. Months passed, then years... like granules of sand slipping through my fingers."

"I was soon trusted to participate in missions. I didn't know what was happening, why I was fighting who I was fighting. All I knew... was the hollowness in my chest and the commands inscribed on my mind itself."

The villain is silent. They don't trust themself to speak—they know their voice would break, betraying their thoughts.

At some point, the hero is the one to break the silence. They tilt their head to the side slightly, leveling the villain with what they can assume to be a curious gaze under the blindfold. "Why have you captured me? Do you hope to rehabilitate me?"

"It won't work," the hero says before the villain can answer. Somehow, they've ascertained that their capture was motivated by that exact desire: the wish for rehabilitation, the visceral need to do something good for someone other than themself. "They have broken me beyond repair." The hero's voice is hollow.

"Everyone can be fixed," the villain responds.

"But I am not a person. I am just a shell, an empty husk. An amalgamation of observations on human behavior, with no memories, no passions, no opinions. I don't even have a name."

Somehow, this is what breaks them. Somehow, the villain survived the onslaught of horrible information, suffered through the retelling of dehumanizing events and cruelty beyond measure. Yet this is what breaks them: the hero does not have a name. A name: a concept so simple. Even animals have names—they are ascribed names by humans. What does it say that this person has no name? They have been deemed lower than humans, lower than animals. They are merely a tool. A weapon.

The villain's thoughts are spiraling. They feel themself moving before they can stop. They robotically break the distance between the two of them, until they're standing over the hero. The hero must sense their proximity, but they do not respond—do not even flinch or move. The villain bites the inside of their cheek hard and begins untying the ropes around the hero's limbs.

"What are you doing?" The hero asks. They sound vaguely surprised. But the villain is nearly certain it’s just an act.

"Leave," the villain demands, their hands shaking ever so slightly as they finish freeing the hero. "Go."

There's a brief flicker of emotion on the hero's face—a quick flash of complete, utter confusion. It happens so fast that the villain can just barely comprehend it, can just barely grasp that the hero may, deep down, have the freedom to express genuine emotion. But as quick as it appears, the confusion is gone: smoothed over by an infuriatingly blank slate.

The villain watches the hero leave. The moment the door clicks shut, the bile on their tongue rises and they dry-heave. They cough and take deep breaths, feeling their throat burn with more than just acid. Unshed tears linger in their eyes, in the back of their throat.

Is the hero past saving? More importantly, do they even want to be saved?

The villain rubs a hand over their face and walks back to the wooden chair where the hero sat moments ago, kicking it over in a rush of pure frustration. It slides across the floor with a horrible screeching noise.

The villain is overcome with an intense desire to do something rather uncharacteristic: they want to free the hero from the agency's chains. And, hell, it's not out of a foolish desire to do something good. Not anymore. Somewhere, deep down, the villain wants the person they just spoke to—who has only known cruelty—to be given a chance to truly live.

It's ironic. The villain has been fighting heroes for years, unaware that the real evil has been under their nose this entire time. Because, while the heroes may be purveyors of justice, the nature of that "justice" is determined by the agency. It's the agency that contributes to the systemic oppression running rampant in their city, it's the agency that manufactures people and turns them into weapons.

The villain clenches their restless hands at their sides. It seems they have to make a slight change to their plans.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. reblogs are greatly appreciated—just please don't steal my writing or share outside of Tumblr.

i can't tell if i'm happy with how this turned out or not. i feel like the ending kind of sucks, but whatever. it is what it is.

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[gnomebinary]

This is my protocol bingo! (Thank you as always osric.com).

Lena is just doing her evil job - No thoughts, no morals, no alligence. Girlboss.

Nobody ever finds out Jmart's real names - I just think that would be tragic, and fit in with what RQ have been saying about this not being too attached to Archives.

Redemption arc - There was a notable lack of these in Archives even though forgiveness and making a conscious effort to behave morally were important themes in the later seasons. I'm ready for Mr Bonzo to have Kylo Ren's exact redemption arc where he's redeemed mostly through kissing. I don't even care who he kisses.

Froyo trip - It's pretty clear that we're being told that this is Somewhere Else through things like the Archives staff having tea and the OIAR staff having coffee. The s1 Archives gang iconically got icecream, so I'm gunning for a froyo trip, and a Gwen monologue about preservatives.

Colin dies first - He's just so killable. Plus, Celia can't die until they do her reveal and they'll probably want to build up to it, Sam can't die because he's the driving force behind investigation into Magnus, Alice can't die because she kinda makes the whole show, Gwen can't die because she's mid-arc and it is of the type that if left unfinished it would be anticlimactic not tragic, and Lena can't die because the impact would be pretty low.

Nostalgic PC games - I LOVE that RQ appears to be into old tech. I want to see Chester and Norris play Catz 5. Lowfi retro charm.

Dyhard - I go back and forth on this one, it feels too obvious what with the hot drinks imagery workplace annoyances to lovers stuff, but at the same time it does Just Make Sense.

Somebody becomes disabled - In Archives people were injured a lot, but none of that amounted to a long-term physical disability, except for Melanie's blindness. Feels like something to do in Protocol.

Police brutality - Feels like a theme that Jonny still has more to say about, and an incredibly easy one to weave into this kind of story.

Alice is hiding something - I actually think she isn't but y'all are saying it.

Alice naming stuff has consequences - She does it so much and Colin warned her off it, clearly seeming concerned but not explaining why, I think it will have unforeseen and damaging consequences.

Someone has a pet - In Archives, especially in the earlier seasons, everyone was notably unattached. Martin has a mum to take care of, but nobody has partners or children. I think this was partly because it made them easier to manipulate, and partly because it meant that tragedy could be dialled up: Sasha dying was sad, but not as gutwrenching as Daisy dying because Daisy's relationships were more fleshed out because it was later in the series. We're already bucking that trend with Celia's son, so I think we might see a pet too. Also, the pet will probably die.

Alice dies in the last season - Alice is very killable but she's also the heart and soul of the character relationships, so I think they will kill her but they'll wait to do it, and then do it mid-final season as an OOH THEY WENT THERE turning point, like how Tim dying brought in a new, darker era for Archives.

Conclusion that love isn't what makes you human - At London Comicon in October, Alex or Jonny (I forget) said that if Archives was about what makes you a monster, Protocol is about what makes you human. I think it's kinda trite if love is the answer, and I think the conclusion re love will be that monsters can love, because that's cooler. Hell yeah romantic monsterfucking.

Celia evil - I LOVE that we're seeing another Welsh person, but she doesn't sit well with me.

Agnes returns but we don't hear her speak - The tree on the other side of the rift is still alive, and if that universe was this one then that means that Agnes may still be alive. Jonny and Alex have said that they regret not doing more with Agnes, and I don't think they'll miss out on the opportunity to use her again. However, I think the fact that she doesn't speak is central to her tragic character and role as Jon's character foil, and I don't think they'll change that. I actually posted a tiktok about this.

Scene on London public transport - We're already seeing our gang at the pub and on dates, I think we're going to get some tube content.

Jmart fate worse than death - They're going to have us WISHING that they died in mag200.

Fears never treated as separate - I just think we're over that.

Breakup - They're getting the character relationships in early, so I'm predicting an onscreen breakup, because that's one of the few ways that we didn't see relationships between characters going bad in Archives.

Gerry's life gets ruined again - I'm sorry guys but I don't think they're going to let him have peace. He's going to get dragged into the OIAR situation and he's going to suffer.

Alice's brother lives - People are already noting similarities between Alice and Tim, I think that it'll be essentially the same character beat again if her brother dies. Adapt, improvise, overcome, RQ.

Another Michael - Just another character called Michael, unrelated to the four existing Michaels. I wasn't going to put this because Jonny is very aware of the four Michael problem, but this man plagurised his own full legal Christian name, so anything is possible.

Jack is Agnes' Jack - I think it's cool if we all think about how there was actually a massive age gap between Agnes and Jack because she didn't seem to age past her twenties, so he was absolutely a child when she was an adult. Not that I want to have Discourse or anything, that relationship was hecked up and complex in plenty of other ways, just because it's interesting.

Onscreen kiss - They said they wouldn't do it during Archives and then they did and it wasn't that gross, so I'm ready to see it happening again. They might have a relationship between allosexuals this time, I don't think they're going as far as onscreen fucking, but I'm game to be surprised. Insert joke about reusing the whimpering noises from Archives here.

[tac-the-unseen]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley Sfw alphabet

CW: mentions of torture and trauma

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Simon is a man who was tortured for 2 years straight. He finds it extremely hard to be affectionate, especially when his torturers try and find the important people to him so they can kill them.

He trys but just know that the lack of affection doesn't mean their isn't any affection. Simon loves you and that's why he's distant. That's the way he shows you he cares.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

If you weren't in 141 he would have never tolerated you. He wouldn't even have acknowledged you.

While in the task force everyone became trauma bonded to each other. It's messy but it worked for everyone.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves cuddling but he can't admit it. He craves physical affection but is terrified by it. It's hard for him to allow himself to be touched, but when he does He goes feral over kisses and hugs.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

The military has conditioned this man to be clean and tidy, He is never messy or unkepted. He has no problem cleaning your space as well as his own, and he can cook but prefer not too.

With the settling down part...he will have a really hard time integrating back into society. His a war criminal and coming back home after being in constant life or death is not easy. You might have to convince him so go to a military/veteran's shelter to try and make the transition better.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It's a cold ending. If he has to end the relationship he will distant himself emotionally before doing so. It's honestly brutal...

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

If he gets to the point where he's thinking about marriage he's as good as yours. But to get to that point it's a long and slow ride. It will take a few years to get him to actually propose but he'll be think about it for all these years.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's extremely gentle with you, just not at frist. It will take a few months but eventually he'll treat you like a newborn kitten rather then a cold blooded soldier.

Emotionally he'll try his best to let you in but you have to be gentle with him frist. If you let him in first he'll let you in.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves them, he just won't say it. Simon is always touching you in some way. Holding hands, Arm around you, brushing up against you. He loves it. He turns it down in public but you bet your ass he's as close as he can be.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Takes him a good long while to say it but will show you he cares instead. He gives you gifts and does acts of service. You now have many little wood carvings and knives.

But When he does finally come around to saying the L word he can't stop saying it. Everything will start or end with an 'I love you'.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Very jealous guy. He has a fear of you leaving him or you having to leaving him. He will do anything he can to not let that happen, so he tends to be a bit grumpy around other guys.

When walking around town or at a bar he stands right behind you you whole time. He's you big scary dog and he loves it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are actually pretty soft and gentle yet extremely passionate. He takes his time and savors the kiss.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's decent around children but he's not a fan. He can handle them for a few hours but not a full day.

He doesn't want kids of his own but if you do you might be able to convince him. He just prefer peace and quiet and your company

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He usually wakes up first and just watches you sleep. When you guys frist started sleeping in the same bed he just watched you all night.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

His anxiety was through the roof. Not only from the gentle Intimacy but from his deep fear that someone wants to hurt you to hurt him. Eventually he'll start sleeping soundly with you in his arms.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He'll open up about small things after a few months but the deeper stuff will come by later in the relationship.

It will take him months to take off his mask infront of you. And even then it's no fully, it's just up to his nose and nothing more. This is him testing the waters. It's best of you Don't say any good and especially bad. Say nothing and eventually you'll see his whole face.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He's one of the most patient lovers. He might act mad but he actually isn't. If he knows you're trying and learning he'll be 1000x more patient.

If you need time opening up about something just take your time. He can wait as long as you need. But I'll have you note that this Patience is only for you. No one else gets to make mistakes around him.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything. Every detail, every date, every interest, every story, every step. He's an extremely observant man, he has to be. Simon makes notes of everything you do and say.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It's actually really simple. You were watching some T.V show while he laid on your stomach. You just ran your fingers through his hair gently in silence. It was very calm and peace and he had no bad thoughts or weights holding him down. He just laid on you and wondered if this is what his life could be. If everything went smoothly from that point on, would it also be like this? Would it always be so peaceful? He's never felt more connected to you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's extremely protective, He physically and emotionally can't not be. Be tortured for two year straight and then some is terrifying. And knowing these people are targeting his support system/loved ones makes him 100x more aggressive about safety. Anytime your in public he feels like he has to come with you. Even for small walks or getting the mail. He feels like the moment he looks away you'll be taken.

He forces himself to accompany you when outside. It's fills him with pride when others start to associate you with him. Like I said, scary dog privileges.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He definitely makes an effort when it comes to date or gifts. Out of 10 I'd say 7/10. He wants you to know he loves you without doing anything to big or to out there.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He's aggressively protective of you. This has caused him to get into fights that could have been avoided. He won't let people approach you unless you told him able someone's presents before hand.

Simon forces himself to go without food for days at a time. And yes, it is a habit. He doesn't even know he's starving himself until he finally eats again.

Locks himself away when have a PTSD episode. He gets very violent and tends to hurt people. He has only ever once hit you and it was during an episode you did even know he was having. Ever since he refuses to allow you near him when he's suffering. And because his last therapist was murdered he refuses to see another one ever again.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not at all. He makes sure his mask is on and that's about it. If his mask is off however....it's best not to say anything.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, absolutely. He hates not knowing if you're okay or in danger. If and when he or you has to leave for work he has a panic attack. He can't handle not being there to protect or aid you.

It even worse when you're apart for long periods of time. His reaction doesn't stop at mentality. He develops aches and tremors and they get more aggressive the longer you're away. His body can't handle the level of distress he's in that he shuts down.

When you guys come back together he doesn't let go of you. Touching, smelling, seeing, and hearing you is healing. He is firm on the belief that you are the best medicine.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

When he started get serious with you Simon went out and bought some nice expensive cologne. He made sure he knew what kind of smells you like and went off of that. When he found one he liked and thought you would too he bought it. When he wore it he didn't say anything. But when you comment on it he internally freaks out.

If you liked it he went out and bought two more. If you didn't he went back to the drawing board. This is his way of letting you silently know he loves you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Some one clingy. Wanting to spend time with him is one thing, Never giving him space is another. And this is extremely important in the early stages of your relationship.

If he feels like he can't step away from you he'll run instead.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

...Simon rarly sleeps...and I mean it! Two year of torture is a long time. Sleeping is vulnerable, the ability to sleep and feel safe is a wild concept to him. He won't sleep until his body forcefully put him to sleep. This will take awhile as the PTSD Extends this limit.

If you insist he'll go to bed with you, but he'll be up all night just watching over you. If he can't feel safe he'll make sure you are.

[brucewaynehater101]

i've been chewing over the tcf!tim au a lot these past few days and this is what my brain came up with: 1. jack and janet aren't really present in tim's life- not out of choice, but out of necessity: see tim had been affected with a curse (similar to that on the tcf protagonist) that made it so that he would eventually lose anything precious to him

2. after they find out, jack and janet decide to physically distance themselves from him (though they can't bring themselves to do so emotionally) while at the same time going on archaelogical trips in hopes to find a way to solve the curse. this way they would hopefully live long enough for tim to be old enough to take care of himself before the curse took them away from him

3. in the meantime, they plopped him in gotham to hopefully slow down / weaken the curse (due to how cursed the city already is, it probably acts like fighting fire with fire or poison with poison, also you can't convince me that as rich as they were they wouldn't have chosen to settle down in any other city if they had other options) and hire a revolving door of nannies (the good ones tim gets attached to often experience unfortunate circumstances that made them have to leave their post, while the bad ones get found out and fired by his parents)

4. tim still gets attached to dick at the circus (and then dick's parents died, and tim lost dick's smile that he liked)

5. tim gets attached to batman and robin -> dick and bruce fight and the og dynamic duo fall apart

6. tim gets attached to jason -> jason gets murdered

7. tim pulls batman out of his spiral and ironically, bruce's prickliness delayed tim getting attached to him, which meant he got to stick around (until he got better, then he ended up being yeeted through time)

8. that whole lead-up to brucequest where he lost a whole bunch of loved ones in quick succession? yeah, the curses of gotham are struggling against his (quantity vs quality)

i just think this idea is neat. and tim's guilt would be growing out of control once he finds out about the curse (why didn't anyone else notice before? because everyone assumed gotham folks are just cursed in general)

it also means he gets a fun (angsty) new motivation to avoid his family post-regression: he doesn't know if the curse is still active and would target them, so he plays the asshole to ward them off so that nothing worse would happen

Well, fuck.

I do love the Good!Parents Jack and Janet in this. It's a bit hard to make Jack or Janet decent parents to Tim while also affording him the independency his character typically has.

The curse is a cool addition to the tcf!Tim au that adds more reason to Tim being an asshole. Him not knowing if he's cursed or not is a great angst plot point, especially because it would be very easy for him to find out. He knows countless magic people that could tell him. Constantine would do it quietly for a quick buck. If Tim continues to not know despite his ability to, that's because he simply didn't want to find out. Dealer's choice on whether that's because he was scared or he wanted an excuse to self-destruct (i.e. cut himself off from his support groups).

The real shitty part about curses that seem like bad luck (or that cause bad luck) is that you can't be sure what is the curse and what is life being shit. Tim will probably blame himself for every horrid thing that has happened to someone after he entered their life.

[bluestarjay]

It's kind of shocking how Hinata is so commonly characterized as someone who is perfect at making friends and is a 100% extrovert-- which yes, he is, but I think people are forgetting how much anxiety he has and how much of a people pleaser he is. I'm rewatching Haikyuu rn and I'm on S1 E5, and the way Daichi came up to Hinata and his immediate response was "I'll block, I'll set, I'll do whatever you need me to!!" And the way he makes promises he can't keep because he wants people to like him is kind of sad. I doubt he had many friends growing up other than Izumi and Kouji, and was probably bullied for being loud, obnoxious, and a weirdo for playing volleyball with the girls or being so into volleyball. So now he makes promises he can't keep and tries to go above and beyond for the team because he doesn't want them to get rid of him or not take him seriously. Yes, he's good at making friends, but I doubt he knows how or why. He's clearly worried that people are only friends with him out of convenience and his jumping skills; that since they play together, they /have/ to be friends. He just wants to finally be of use to someone; for someone to take him seriously; someone who won't ignore him around other people bc they don't want to be seen with him (silly funny little hc of mine 🥰🥰) . But that's also why Karasuno is so great, because they really are a family. They love Hinata and are friends with him, and they like him because he's a good person, not because they have to be since they play together, or just because he's skilled and they want to take that from him. And maybe at first, Hinata didn't realize that, since after being ignored and bullied and mocked, he thought the only way someone would possibly want him around was because he could help them win. And since he's so short, of course, taller, older, buffer players would intimidate him because they could easily take advantage of the height difference, so all of his bathroom encounters are NOT helping his anxiety 😭😭😭 and the puking??? When hinata threw up on Tanaka?? Everybody is always so focused on Yamaguchi's anxiety that they don't look at or even realize Hinata's anxiety. LITERALLY, THE ENTIRETY OF EP5 IS ABOUT HINATA'S ANXIETY AND PEOPLE PLEASING BEHAVIOR,,, WHY DOES NOBODY TALK ABOUT IT???? THE KEY SCENE LIKE 20 MINUTES IN??? (For ref, Daichi, Suga, and Kageyama are talking about Hinatas behavior, and Daichi imagines a scene: He hands Hinata the club room keys, Hinata says he'll take it, Daichi says, "I never told you where to keep it, so I brought it", and Hinata bows repeatedly saying he's sorry (about 6 times)) THAT IS NOT NORMAL!!! And then he's so worried about not doing well because he feels like he needs to make up for everything (his height, his lack of skill, his lack of experience on a team, the incident with Kageyama, etc), AHH HE LITERALLY SAYS, "This isn't like junior high...because I can be replaced! I don't want that. I don't want to be replaced. " BUT NOBODY CARES?? NOT ONE PERSON IN THIS FANDOM (THAT I HAVE SEEN) TALKS ABOUT ANY OF THIS!!! All I ever see is how Hinata has tons of friends and is so popular and is a people magnet, but does anybody ever think that he's probably anxious because those friends might get bored of him and find new friends?? That since Kenma has known Kuroo a lot longer and already doesn't really like people, he might just decide to stop talking to him?? Or that Kageyama might get bored of Hinata and stop hanging out with him outside of volleyball?? Or that Daichi and/or Coach Ukai will one day realize that he isn't really that special, and anyone can jump or run fast, so he gets replaced??? Literally I bet his WORST FEAR is being replaced and forgotten.

[railingsofsorrow]

we'll be alright

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: the one where it's the team's night out after a few long weeks of work and you're finally relaxing... not really. because you have a secret that's brewing your insides out.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 2.4K

warnings/content: mentions of pregnancy symptoms; sleep deprivation; alcohol; jj being a good friend; discussion about choices; fearing one's reaction; yk spencer reid the best (only) man on earth.

A/N: I planned this to be a small drabble... anyways, enjoy this blurb while I finish up a few requests.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“what are you doing?”

“chill, jj. I'm not drinking.”

you roll your eyes at the blonde casting you a suspicious look when she walks over. you don't know why she did it, to be honest. everyone seemed to be having fun over at the table, you just felt too uncomfortable and had to take a breath of fresh air outside. when you came back, you sat down by the counter, the bartender placed a red drink in front of you claiming it was from a guy across the bar. you didn't look, you didn't care. you push it aside with an eye roll and stick to the glass of soda you had previously ordered.

“are you okay?” her sympathetic voice is too much for you to bear right now, so you inhale sharply, actually thinking about downing that whole red drink in a go but you're one hundred percent sure certain jj would knock it off before it reaches your mouth. “sorry. I won't ask.”

“i'm just... confused.” you shrug, playing with the hem of the glass, tongue traveling over your lips. they are pretty dry, you can't remember the last time you drank water. “you don't have to keep an eye on me, jj. seriously, I'll be back in a second. I'm just... thinking.”

“have you told him?”

“no.”

her brows pull together. and before she can offer you her unwanted advice, you cut her off.

“don't tell me he has the right to know or anything like that. I know, okay? I know what I have to do, I know what I need to do. but I have a right to process everything on my own as well and I'm doing just fine doing that. for now.” you don't mean to snap, acknowledging the fact that jj means well, but you're tired of hearing obvious things about the situation and none of them did anything to help easing your nerves.

seems like people cared more about spencer's opinion on the matter rather than your own, when it is, in fact, a matter that you are carrying.

“i was gonna say take your time. you don't need to have it all figured out right this second.” you glance up at her, doubtful. jj gives your shoulder a squeeze and casts you a reassuring smile that almost sends you to jump in her arms to be coddled. “you're not on your own. I know it can be overwhelming, trust me, but you can talk to me anytime you want, okay? when you're ready.”

you smile for what felt like the first time in the night. relief swallowing down a bit of the nervousness rumbling through your chest.

“thanks, jayge,” you say.

jj gives you a wink. she leaves you alone after that and you enjoy a few minutes on your own when a familiar and welcoming touch trails down your back.

“you're quiet.” spencer eyes something above your head with hard eyes and his gaze immediately melts when it falls upon you.

“marking territory, doctor reid?” you tease, noticing the jealousy by his tells. his tries at being inconspicuous are foolish, but you like it.

he flushes red, clearing his throat and mumbling I don't know what you're talking about under his breath.

you hum, resting your chin against your palm as you look up at him. “i'm always quiet.”

“not like that.” spencer points out, tilting his head as his lips stretch into a soft smile. his gaze says I know you. you can't fool me. and he's 100% right, you can't. “is everything okay?” he questions, fingers grazing your upper arm in a way that it almost causes you close your eyes and give in to sleep right there. the truth is that you haven't been sleeping for three whole days. tossing and turning and feeding the nightmare in your head that all would go to shit. your relationship, you mean. the most solid thing you have going on for you, you'd screw that up. personally, you're a fan of facing the problem right away so you could get rid of it quickly. but this is neither a problem — not for you — nor you could fix it.

“i have something to tell you.” you swallow with difficulty. “but I- I don't know how.”

“okay.” he caresses your arm, brows knitting together in slight concern. “do you want to go home? is that okay for you?”

you sigh, hand traveling cross your face. “i don't want you to stop having fun because—”

“i wasn't having fun.” spencer is quick to cut you off albeit gently like he always is. “i was basically begging for you to call it a night so we could leave.”

a surprise laugh escapes out of you. you believe that.

“okay.” you nod, convinced. and a little less anxious to be honest. it's not like you'd say what you want to say in the middle of a crowded bar filled with drunk people. “yeah, we can, we can go home.”

“great.” he kisses your temple and waits for you to accompany him to your friend's table so you can bid your goodbyes. the first indication that something is off was your withdraw nature throughout the entire day. not that you weren't doing your job perfectly fine, you were. but your mind seemed to be elsewhere from the moment you stepped into the FBI headquarters to this very moment now. the second indication was when you said you'd get a drink and never came back. he found you by the bar with, in deed, a drink before you. then, he knew he had to say something.

“where are your keys?” spencer asks, adjusting the leather strap on his shoulder as you stride out of the pub. you lift the car keys between your fingers and he outreaches a hand towards it to which your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “you drank, didn't you?”

your face smoothes out in understanding, “no.” he regards you with uncertainty. “i didn't,” you repeat with an eyeroll. “i can't. I ordered that one but I didn't touch it. if you wanna drive though, be my guest.” he takes the keys in the first chance and you just chuckle softly, walking to the opposite side and entering the car. when you finally adjust yourself in the seat, you let out a long breath in relief. your feet are killing you as well as your head. not to mention the dizziness coming back and forth.

you don't open you eyes when something presses against your torso, you know it's spencer buckling up your seatbelt that you had forgotten.

“what did you mean by you can't drink?” the peaceful silence is broken by spencer's gentle tone. he'd look over at you every few minutes, trying to point out if the cause for your pale cheeks is the faint light of the car or something else. your eyes are shut but he knows you are not sleeping by the constant shifting in your seat.

“what?” you stumble on an answer and that's the best you are able to come up with.

“you said I can't.”

“you're correcting my misspellings now?”

spencer's eyes widen slightly. when the traffic light turns red, he quickly turns to you ready to apologise. but he sees your smirk and backs down, letting out a sigh.

“no,” he says, rolling his eyes. there is still something unsettling about your behavior, he can't point out what. sometimes it just happened, that feeling. he knew something was off without a single glance your way. the red light turned green before he can carry on speaking.

he does it anyway, though his eyes are stuck to the avenue and not on you as he plans to.

“are you okay?”

silence. and then,

“why do you ask?” your voice is soft, almost uncertain. you are hesitant and holding back. something is definitely wrong.

“you're withdrawal. you look tired and you didn't sleep well last night. I'm fairly sure you're a bit pale since this morning.” you're groaning beside him and spencer frowns. you finally arrive at your apartment and he takes a while to park before he turns the engine off. “are you sick? do you have the flu? migraines? cause we could have gone straight home tonight, you know that right? do you have a fev—”

“stop, spencer.” you mumble before his hands reach your forehead to check your temperature. you hate that he notices so much so fast. even though he's quiet about it, spencer is always paying attention. always. “it's not— I'm not sick. don't worry.”

“i'm still worrying.” he replies matter-of-fact, earning a scowl from you. he isn't phased. “should we go to the hospital?”

you huff like a five year old. “i just told you I'm not sick.”

“and I don't believe you.”

somehow, you wish he noticed more so you didn't had to say the truth out loud.

“i'm not sick.” your tone was sharp though you avoid it, it was just how it came out. you were sick of that subject.

spencer frowns. he stops himself before he could ask if you were sure of that statement.

“but I might get sick.” you utter under your breath, unsure about saying it out loud but you already did it. spencer turns to you after he takes off his shoes, a pet peeve of yours is that you hate dirty shoes around the apartment. there's always a few pairs of flipflops by the doorstep in case you have visitors. or they can just walk around in their socks, you had no problem with that, which is what spencer did. “... once in a while.”

“what is going on?” spencer approaches you slowly, his concern starting to create a thousand of theories inside his head. “really, I'm worried—”

“i'm pregnant.” you let out and release the breath you've been holding for what felt like hours. there. it's done. when you open your eyes, you don't look at him but walk straight in the direction of your room. spencer is hot on your heels. you just wanted to shower.

“what— you're— what do you mean?” his frantic voice almost makes you laugh if you weren't so tired with a headache brewing.

“i really need to take a long shower, spencer.”

“I—” he blinks, studying you for a moment before he swallows all of his questions and he sees. he sees what's going on and why your behaviour has been off these days. spencer's very observant, but sometimes he can let one or two hints wander off his radar. “okay.” he wants to hold you but he stays in his spot. if you want space, that's what he will give you. “do you need me to prepare you a bath?” he prays you say yes but you shake your head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door.

he lowers himself down on the edge of bed and stares at nothing as his thoughts swirls around the signs being thrown at his face the whole week. the morning sickness. not being able to stand the smell of any perfume. a sudden dizziness... fuck. how could he have been so clueless?

spencer admits he's always beeng good at physics and chemistry and statistics and he's constantly praised for picking up certain behaviours in his line of work, but he sucks at social cues and most of the times he misses the joke in a room or your sarcasm — though he's infinitely better at detecting that.

he takes pride in knowing you. your little quirks such as the way you press your lips together when you're uncomfortable or when you pick at your cuticles when something is on your mind during a case. he doesn't know how he didn't notice that. really, you spent most of your time together, both at work and outside of work. hell, spencer knows your period cycle. he makes sure to fill his pantry with your favourites sweet and sour snacks for that time of the month. it truly makes no sense how be could be so oblivious.

he knocks twice on the bedroom door, apprehensive and extremely careful. he's afraid by your latest reaction that you don't want him around.

it's actually the opposite.

“come in.” you're finishing getting dressed for the night. one of his old Caltech shirts slipping through your frame as he walks in slowly. you raise a brow in his direction, eyeing his figure standing by the doorway.

“i made you some peppermint tea. it's good for, hm, nausea.”

letting out a sigh at his hesitation, you lift a hand, silently asking him to come closer. “i'm not mad at you.” you clarify, breathing into his neck as he gently pulls you into his arms. “i was frustrated and tired and sore and sleepy. 'm sorry I was rude.” then, you chuckle awkwardly. “and sorry I dropped that bomb on you without a notice.”

he squeezes you, running a hand through your back. “don't be sorry. I understand.”

“are you mad?”

he pulls back a little, stunned that you even asked that. “what? why would I be mad?”

you shrug, meddling with the collar of his work attire he still hasn't taken off. “we didn't plan it. it's not ideal.”

spencer shakes his head, lifting your chin slightly to meet his gaze. “i don't care. I'm here for whatever you decide to do. there's no such thing as ideal.”

your mouth quirks up in the corners and you brush a honey brown curl behind his ear, fingertips trailing down his jaw.

“what?” he nudges your nose with his.

“i love you.” his grin is contagious and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. you love him so much.

“and i love you.” you let out a shriek as he pulled you up in his arms, your feet being suspended from the ground. “hey,” he cups your cheeks lovingly. “we'll figure it out. together. alright?”

you nod, warmth flooding through your chest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “yeah, yeah, we will.” you mumble in the croak of your boyfriend's neck. “I love you.” you repeat just because you felt like it.

spencer mutters the same three words softly into the crown of your head. and you know everything will be alright.

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie ; @ninkieminjaj

[fic-heaven]

Enemies to lovers with König and witty reader? I don't know if you also write about him so imma leave this here

Answering two anons at the same time lmao

Say my name

(König x witty! Reader)

🐥 The first time König appeared on my drafts was when I was making my last Reyes x Reader fic and um... I kind of wanted to keep doing lmao so here it is. Sorry for my broken English-

Angst/ SOCIAL ANXIETY/ slight nsfw/ open ending (if you guys want a part two and this short gets some attention)

⚠️ I still picture König as Lee Pace ⚠️

.

They say you transfered from SpecGru to KorTac because you simply wanted a change of airs. But it couldn't be that simple. Why were you so simple?

As antisocial as he seemed to be, König was well aware that a bond between teammates was needed in order to sync and function properly during missions. He wasn't the best at striking up conversations and never intended to improve on this aspect either, often trying to figure people out from the distance, he only approached them if he had questions about their character. Horangi once said it was weird but König frankly didn't care about what was socially accepted or not, he just made the effort to know his team because it was expected of him, and as great as it would be to have friends, he struggled socializing and had given up trying ages ago. König was paid to kill, not to make friends. And as far as his interactions went with his teammates, the only one who gets his game and could be considered his friend is Horangi. But you?

He had tried to investigate you, even going as far as using his position as colonel to gather as much information from your background to understand you without having to make any awkward approach. But nothing he found explained why you changed factions or why you behaved the way you did. You had a normal childhood, went to a good school, graduated being top of your class... Jesus you had a rabbit called Mr. Whiskers, even the deepest info given was borely normal. No trace of trauma or any mental disorder.

König begun studying you like a biologist would to a newfound species and got more and more invested and frustrated the more information he gathered, because he simply couldn't excuse your... Well, your everything.

He approaches you one time during morning drills, looks you up and down as you stretched, ignores the flirty comment you shot his way, because what the fuck is your problem? You don't know him. Then König proceeded to mouth the first thing he ever said to you, one of the main questions he had on his head as to why you would behave so strangely. And it goes like this: "Do you have any mental illness, hm?"

"I might have, yeah."

And you said it so casually. Do you, though? Are you being sarcastic or... God he hates you. Why can't he figure you out!? Why do you smile at him so much? Why do you flirt so much with him? Do you flirt with the others the way you do with him?

That new question made him observe your body language around others and listen carefully to any interaction you had and found nothing but your enchanting witty self. Of course you teased other members, but never so bluntly like the way you flirt with him. The colonel felt weirdly relieved at this. Maybe he liked the attention given? Scratch that, or course not!

One time after a tiring mission in Barcelona, Spain, König approached you with a bottle of water, you thanked him with a wink and he watched you swallow the whole thing before he proceeded to ask you the second question that plagued his mind: "Do you perhaps hide some secret trauma that permanently changed your behaviour, using sarcasm, smirks and jokes to protect your scared inner child in order to not get hurt again?"

"Hmmm... The day I found out my mother was Santa Claus I went bananas, but I wouldn't say it scarred me for life. Do ya want an M&M, colonel?"

He fucking hates you. He hates you. König aggressively snatched a handful of M&M's and stormed away. That night he swore he could hear your laugh echoing inside his head. Why couldn't you leave his fucking mind? What was it with you? Were you doing it on purpose?

_____

You were definitely doing it on purpose.

You have to be patient with König. But he was so hilarious and scary, it thrilled you to watch the two meter tall behemoth of a man walk near you and sneak watchful, calculated glances your way when he thought you weren't looking. If someone dared to ask, you'd easily answer with the honesty everyone knew you posses: You'd fuck König without a thought.

He's so feral in battle, so demanding and intimidating on the comms. His ridiculous voice made him all the more adorable contrasting with his appearance. Oh fuck that. Even his appearance was ridiculous, he looked like the red guy from that creepy show called "Don't hug me, I'm scared" or one of those executioners from the Shrek movie. But he was HOT, with that slutty waist accentuated by his bulky back, those long slender arms that could lift anything on his way, you saw him lift a fucking car a few inches so an injured woman could scape, and as she cried of relief you could feel your pussy crying as well at the sight. And oh his hands... The way he used them, so elegantly but rough, they'd make a beautiful necklace. His voice, as unfitting as it sounded coming from this KorTac monster, made you itch to hear more, his accent was so attractive that it quickly made you addicted to sound of it and your brain pondered on how he'd sound while doing other things. Lucky you, when the stars aligned and you two coincided in the gym you made sure to be close enough to hear the quiet grunts and sighs from the colonel as he trained, to your surprise he never moved away as if he knew what you were doing and thought nothing much of it. Safe to say, you'd gladly eat whatever interaction König graced you with with a speck of salt.

Though, when you begun paying attention to the details (because it was hard to guess his thoughts without seeing his face) You noticed a few things about the colonel that indicated he had a severe case of social anxiety. The way he self isolated, how he forced himself to interact with people resulting in very awkward conversations that led to him coming up as rude to what he got frustrated and scaped the scene, how he loved his job because you were convinced that he thought he was only good at killing. That made you wonder if he had other hobbies... It's funny to imagine a tall, muscly guy like him baking or making origamis.

______

Today you saw the ultimate signal that your big crush wasn't a people's person.

You two were on a meeting with some other KorTac members. König was peeling an apple and had finished it rather quickly as all of you spoke, but he spent ten minutes with the remnants of the fruit slowly browning and drying on his hand, so you decided to test your theory by walking to the near trash can to throw a random paper you crumbled quickly, after a few seconds König abruptly stood up to throw the dried fruit remnant, the tall Austrian glanced your way before he sat again and kept to himself. Okay, so judging by this and how stiff he looks, König doesn't know exactly what to do with his body around people, he needed an excuse to stand up and throw the finished apple so he waited for anyone to use the trash can to go after, BUT he waited a few seconds to stand so he wouldn't look like he was waiting. Must be stressful to be on his shoes. Interesting, but maybe you were overthinking too much, so you decided to do a final test that would definitely tell you if what you thought was right. You didn't want to come to this unless it was really necessary... You'll probably have to apologize later.

You directed all the attention to König by asking a number of things, (obviously work related) that caught the attention of everyone in the room taking the poor colonel by surprise, his cristal blue eyes widened for a minute before he composed himself answering everything you asked with a professional tone until you spotted the tremble on his hands, poor König noticed your attention drift to his hands so he slid them under the table. That's how you knew it. He couldn't handle being the center of attention for prolonged amounts of time. Your poor baby...

You gave him a sympathetic look that again took him by surprise, but by that time König had called the meeting over, gathered his things and walked out before you could approach him.

Damn you and your stupid beautiful voice and worried eyes trying to comfort him discreetly.

Gloved hands fidgeted with the bracelet on his wrist. König remembers the little girl who gifted him said thing. The day him and his team rescued her and some other orphans from a building about to explode, the worried colonel spent a few minutes comforting the little girl until she pulled the orange bracelet from her small SpongeBob backpack, he chuckled at the gesture and had never taken it off since. They even shared some letters from time to time, he held a piece of little Astrid in the form of a cute bracelet and she held a piece of him in the form of sweet spoken letters.

König saw her kind eyes in yours and it squeezed his heart so much he felt suffocated. Why would a teasing little vixen like you have such kind, gorgeous eyes? It was weirdly comforting that someone would look at him so softly like he wasn't a monster for once after so long.

His heart begun beating faster, his head was so full of questions about you it infuriated him. Long legs carried the colonel to the gym absentmindedly, like his body craved to ease some tension, but at the last minute he turned to the left corridor further from the gym, went to the right and finally approached the shooting range's door.

"Scheibe..." König cursed lowly, he could have very well bursted the door out of it's hinges, his gloved hand (still a bit shaky) took his favorite riffle from the top right corner of the shelf while he shot a backward kick to push the metallic door closed. He spent fourteen minutes shooting targets while mauling at your last interaction, rage swirled his insides and yet he couldn't fully hate you for asking questions, after all it was work-related, and the last soft gaze you gave him spoke volumes that you didn't want to advert all the attention to him out of malice. König was reloading his sniper rifle when he heard a gentle thud indicating someone had entered the room.

"You'd make an amazing sniper." You spoke softly trying not to startle him.

"You come to mock me? Laugh all you like. I'm well aware I'm too huge to be a sniper." He spoke in resentment over his shoulder before redirecting his focused gaze to the target ahead.

"I always say size doesn't matter! As long as you know how to handle your weapon, you'll make any girl blush."

Your dark humour takes König by surprise and he misses the dummy's head, he tries to hold back the chuckle that threatened to spill from his hidden lips. Luckily the shirt he wore as a mask shielded his face enough to make it look like he was holding in a cough or a sneeze but you weren't stupid. When he turns to face you placing the riffle to the near table he gets startled by how close you are, the smirk accompanying your lips as you weaseled close to his very sacred personal space made him curse lowly in his mother's tongue. The tall Austrian stepped back and you rose your hands in mocking defeat.

"Alright, I get it, personal space. Jus' wanted to hear ya laugh..."

"I didn't." He hisses.

"Didn't ya? I thought I heard it, must have been the wind."

Your sarcasm often infuriated König who never seemed to get a good grip on his English, so it was hard for him to detect when you were being serious or just pulling his leg. His hands flex on his sides, tiny waist move side to side as he balances his weight before he crosses his arms and leans his back to the wall. König raises a brow when your smirk morphed into a sincere apologetic smile as you admired his stance six feet apart from him.

"I'm sorry for what happened back there." You said honestly, he sucked in a breath. "Didn't want t' put ya on the spot."

The Colonel's cerulean eyes widen in surprise before directing his gaze to your tank top blinking rapidly. It was easier to listen if he wasn't looking directly at your eyes. "König..." Your voice was honey making shivers run up his spine and his skin erupt in goosebumps, his hands trembled even when he fisted them on his crossed stance. "Why don't we start again? Call me paranoid, but I feel like there's tension between us and not the type I'd like."

König wasn't shy, he wasn't, but that last line of yours made him feel like it, and it wasn't an ugly feeling? But it was a little uncomfortable, foreign, it squeezed his heart in a suffocating way, his hands were clammy, he felt weirdly light like if it wasn't for his tapping foot on the floor he'd float away. König understood what you were saying and it comforted him that you were on the same page, the weird unsteadiness between the two of you becoming rather unbearable and a constant topic on both your minds, it was relieving that you thought the same way. Suddenly the ugly anger he had for you quieted down.

The colonel lifted his hand your way offering you a handshake you took with mirth.

"I'm colonel König. Y-you are...?"

"Goddamn. Ain't your parents bit' egotistical? Namin' their baby boy 'king' in their native language." You say with a snicker shaking his hand. He takes it back abruptly but you don't flinch. "I'm Sargeant (c/n). My name is (y/n) (l/n). Is König the name written on your birth certificate or were you called somethin' else?" You press.

König is taken aback by this. When was the last time someone had asked the colonel his name?

"I am..." It tasted foreign on his tongue, like he had forgotten the sound of it, the taste of his own name on his tongue. "My name is Andreas Dobler. That's... That's my name." His name wasn't König, he remembers the man he left behind all those years back, the man under the dark cloak. Before things went to shit, before becoming colonel König.

"Andreas. What a curious name, never heard of it-"

"Say my name again." König interrupts. His voice weak but demanding and desperate. He loved it. He loved the sound of his name on your lips. It was strange, sweet... Arousing, even.

You blinked angling your head up to take a better look at his half-lid eyes. This time König didn't look away, your eyes met and suddenly the ugly tension from before was morphing into another type of tension, your heart beats faster in sync with his. You didn't know you were getting closer until König placed a hand on your waist and then the other, not pushing, not pulling, he simply laid them there and it came so naturally, your playful smile wavered slightly as your hands landed on his shoulders, he shivers. You tilted your head to the side and he was so lost in you, your aroma, your eyes, your lips, your touch, he didn't realize he was returning the head tilt.

Your lips parted, pink tongue darting to hydrate your dry lips until your pearls were visible from the gap, and his eyes catch every movement your mouth makes when you whisper "Andreas."

"Again."

"Andreas-"

"Again..."

"...Andreas..." Your hands slowly move to his chest, his breath hitches. His name has never sounded so sensual whispered by anyone's mouth. You were... You...

"You..." He isn't sure what to say. You are not sure either, suddenly your wit has abandoned you it seems. "You intrigue me." He decides to huff out, accent heavily pronounced.

There's a thousand thoughts swirling on König's mind, he has shared his name but it suddenly didn't feel enough, he wanted to show you who he was, his past, his thoughts, his hopes and dreams, even his face. How can a simple woman like you make König feel so much? Because you were no simple woman. That's why when he felt your small hands slide up his chest to the hem of the shirt that composed his mask, König didn't tense up, in fact, his shoulders relaxed embracing the touch of your fingers gently feeling his neck under the cloth, his stubble, his chin, his high cheeks... Gloved hands grab your wrists.

You stop, still looking up at him noticing the heaving of his chest and how lost in awe his gaze seemed.

"Not yet?"

"I-i... Do not..." Mind. He didn't want to refuse your touch but at the same time it was so overwhelming.

You give a small nod, König lets go of your wrists and you take this opportunity to nuzzle his cheeks, he gasps landing his hands on your waist once more, squeezing the flesh over your tank top. The feeling of your fingers on his face was so foreign it felt like you were touching a piece of his soul.

"Don't you worry, darling..." König lets out a small whimper at this. "I'm rushing things ain' I? We were just getting on the first name basis and I had to screw it all..." You wanted to sound apologetic, you promise, but it was so hard when your colonel was practically purring at the feeling of your soft hands scratching his stubble.

König was putty on your hands, he has never felt this way. His cheeks burn in embarrassment, he tries to move back but remembers he's already against the wall, and you, a small thing like you have him cornered like a honey badger hunting a lion. His lip wobbles and he tilts his head to the side as he feels your hands massage and explore his neck and jaw in long, gentle motions.

"Shy lil' thing... Aren't you pretty hiding under there? Maybe you are too beautiful to allow anyone the pleasure of a simple look. Like a sweet Ferrero Roche firmly wrapped and ready to be eaten." You whisper, voice raspy before you chuckle when his Adam's apple bobs with a swallow. Your body is now pressed compleatly against his, your dear colonel's hands tremble on your sides as he fists your tank top. He's nervous, he's shy, but you know he is enjoying this judging by the way his teary, half-lid eyes blink slowly every time you feel a new inch of skin.

"...Sag bitte mehr, ich flehe dich an..." (Say more please, I beg you.) König moans out, his german accent so strong masking how weak he was feeling at the moment.

He loved your voice, your touch... Your everything. The colonel ran his fingers on your lower back encouraging to continue, meanwhile he very slowly tilted his head higher allowing you more space on his neck to massage and scratch. You chuckle darkly feeling his member poking at your belly, your body instantly pressing harder against his cornered torso.

"You like the sound of my voice, colonel?" You humm, he makes a small noise. "Andreas...?"

His shoulders shake with the force of his shiver, nails digging deliciously on your lower back, you chuckle delighted at the sight tilting his chin to the other side to feel his nape, his ear and some locks of hair. "ich begehre dich..." The Austrian groans, his member now fully erect twitched delighted by the delicious pressure of your torso against it and your soft ministrations to his neck.

Both your radios churr alive until a voice breaks the static, a random operator checking on the comms. König almost knocks you over with how fast he straightened his back and the way his strong grip held you back, his chest heaving fast, eyes wide and vulnerable. You take the opportunity to grab him by the hem of the shirt he uses as a mask.

"Wait-..."

König freezes when he feels cold air hit the heated skin from his neck. You had lifted a portion of the cloth revealing the part you were previously massaging, caressing and scratching. His head moves up to the side trying to hide from your touch, his hands shoot backwards planting on the wall as if a force had taken them from the previous grip he had on you.

"I hope you can forgive me colonel... Can't help it..."

There's a long gash on his neck, a very old scar that seemed to be product of a knife fight or even a bullet, it's crocked and it goes up probably to his right ear. You lean close on tiptoes because he couldn't crouch due to how shocked he still felt, and you planted your wet lips on the surface of the sensitive scar. König's throat rumbles with a groan, his powerful hands finally make the move to take you, to cage your body impossible closer to his. A hard roll of his hips make him gasp in relief and you loudly huff when he handles you to where he was previously caged, his hands soon making small effort to lift you up, both legs wrapped around his waist and he THRUSTS. You are still kissing, licking and nibbling his neck, your hands exploring the long bulky surface of his back, König moans delighted at one particular bite until-

"Shit."

König turned his head back so fast you are sure his neck is rotatory, two pairs of eyes look in shock at Horangi who is standing there holding the rifle König had previously left before all of this happened. Your colonel was frozen in embarrassment his shaking hands still held you up and his boner was no longer stabbing you, the thing died at the speed of light.

"Jesus Christ. You gonna keep staring or you wanna join us, tiger?"

König snaps his head back at you comically fast, icy eyes glare in surprise, horror and astonishment.

"As fun as that sounds I'll leave you two to your games... 'sides, I don't think you'll be able to handle König alone, imagine the two of us. We'd ruin you." The Korean's response made you laugh enchanted with his wit, he walked out the door in quick strides leaving you two alone once more.

König huffs glaring at the wall behind you. The sudden unwelcome presence of his friend seemed to had robbed the magic from the moment. Your Colonel's body shagged slowly lowering your body, and the moment your heels touched the ground his head leaned down falling to the crock of your neck, the feeling of the warm cloth of his mask made you humm. He kissed your clavicle over his mask and you ran your hands to his shoulders until König slowly retrieved.

He took two steps back, with a very noticeable defeated look.

"Hey. We can keep going whenever yer up to. Don't look at me like that, sweet thing." Your voice carried a playfulness that comforted him from the sudden feeling of defeat.

König couldn't meet your eyes, his voice was shaky "I'm just not like this-..."

"Andreas-"

"DON'T -...!" He barked, startling you both.

It was too much, too sudden, too weird, too suffocating. He liked it at first but... König couldn't put into words what he was feeling right now. He hated that the moment was cut short, he hated that he felt like it was his fault and he hated the way you are looking at him with so much concern like when you two were at the meeting.

"Verzeihen Sie mir." He muttered giving you a final short glance before he rushed out of the place leaving the door open and your startled self still leaning on the wall.

You recognized those words even if you didn't know much of German.

"Forgive me." You translated in a whisper.

Will you?

[givehimthemedicine]

El's protectiveness and friendships in the lab

wanted to take a minute to appreciate that El's protectiveness isn't a character trait that only emerges post-lab. she's always been that way [assuming, for this post, that NINA stuff more or less happened]; it just couldn't always present in a way that looks badass on a poster.

El and Eighteen

only crumbs here, but if I have to point out a lab kid that El is friendlier with than the others, it's Eighteen.

El holding Eighteen's hand is the only affectionate act I've ever noticed between any of the lab kids, and offering that comfort to her littlest sister is probably as "protective" as El can afford to be (esp as an eight year old with the least power and social standing of anyone).

when the kids in general laugh at El for failing at the light game, Eighteen is not one of the kids shown doing so.

Eighteen is the first dead child El is shown to be upset about. it's not that she looks more distressed about her than the others, but it's odd that she saw Ten dead on the floor next to Brenner a second before this and didn't really react. (maybe she couldn't tell Ten was dead from the doorway? idk)

maybe an El/Eighteen friendship is cornplating or whatever the youths are calling it, but bearing in mind that we're never actually told that El/Eight had some super close friendship, maybe theirs looked something like this.

side note - are friendships even permitted in the lab?

letting the kids form friendships could be dangerous, as Brenner, couldn't it? risks them forming alliances against you? this is why I was asking the other day if socializing seems discouraged in the RR. like, even the bullies, who were "friends," never chatted openly in there unless the cameras were off. maybe any lab friendships have to be hush hush by nature.

anyway idk there's just something about us going "🤯 same numbers!!!" upon seeing the 001 / 011 tattoos, and then 008 + 018 being the only other kids El is hinted at being friendly with... why are we reusing the same pattern? 001 / 008 / 011 / 018 just happen to be every combination of those three numbers within the number of available children.

especially with El "being 8" (as in, years old) at this time. it's giving Henry, 12 / mother of 5. idk where I'm going with that but I'm squinting. Eighteen, you're not some bizarro Little Eight who has an inverted friendship with Big El, right?

El lashing out in the lab

we're shown repeatedly that El hates seeing people get hurt, but multiple times onscreen (and you know innumerable times off) she witnesses severe abuse to her siblings, and we never see her act in their defense like post-lab El would. of course, that's because she realistically can't. we know trying to help anyone in the lab accomplishes little except getting both people in trouble. but I was thinking about how we DO see El lash out for her own sake in 1983. so what's the takeaway? El cares more about protecting herself than others? nah. let's look at the other guard killing scene (again. assuming this really happened):

when similarly cornered in 1979, El's immediate response is silent surrender.

why is her behavior so different? because she's weak? too scared / well controlled? too nice to kill? all those factors have already been established as non-issues in this moment. (she does have her powers here; the circle game proved that Brenner can't control El and knows it; killing when cornered is canonically within her nature)

you might think having a staff member on her side would make her more defiant, but instead she's more compliant here than in '83 (either time. even in the non-guard-killing flashback, El screams and struggles the whole way.)

El and One

he's the difference. she doesn't know he's her brother or has powers yet, but he has presented himself as a fellow prisoner rather than someone in a position of authority. she's also already seen him get punished because of her.

as far as El knows right here, if she lashes out - whether she then escapes successfully or not - she'd be bringing SEVERE punishment onto a nice guy who can't defend himself or escape.

she has a chance at freedom, the power to kill, and the escape route all planned out, but she doesn't do it. the thing that's not in her nature is abandoning a friend to God-knows-what punishment on her behalf.

so while One killing the guards is an act of protection to El, it's also a massive act of protection to One that El is ready to throw out the whole plan right here. don't miss it just because it's not the classic El-screamy-hand thing.

she's sacrificing her chance at freedom in hopes of slightly mitigating his punishment. (they're both doomed to very bad punishment upon capture right here, but if she escapes I think he'd get punished even worse. so she's choosing to share in pretty bad punishment over him being punished extremely severely and her not at all.)

even aside from punishment, she knows she'll be returning to an even worse home life than the one she believed necessitated her immediate escape (Brenner apparently arranging for her to be killed).

so here, can she afford to act out not only because she's acting alone, but because she's an only child, so to speak? there's no one else who could potentially suffer as a result of her actions. no other siblings to use as leverage. no one to protect.

whatever consequences Brenner carried El off to after killing those orderlies, she bore it alone.

I can sorta read this as protective of the other kids in general - not that she did it, but that she didn't until now.

am I saying Brenner might have randomly punished other kids as a result of something El did?

have you met the guy? definitely would've threatened it, might've actually done it. manipulation by whatever means necessary.

when you work in a building full of superpowered people who hate you, you gotta control them psychologically, because physical control isn't something you can maintain for long. it's imperative that they're more afraid of the consequences of kicking your ass than they are of whatever torture you're putting them through. emotional manipulation using friends and innocents as pawns is a classic move. (another reason the kids might want to keep lab friendships secret even if they're allowed.)

that's not theory - we've seen Brenner use this tactic onscreen, telling El that he'll have Owens killed if she tries to get to him. he knows he can't physically control her, so he exerts psychological control by placing Owens' blood on El's hands to get her to cooperate.

the phrase "blood on one's hands" means being responsible for deaths, not having literally, personally committed murder. this imagery is used onscreen to denote El's sense of guilt about the massacre well before she comes to the conclusion that she actually did it. (this could be symbolism that El's mind organically dreamed up instead of engineered fuckery, but who knows. we have no textual explanation yet for how her hands would be that bloody).

and together with Brenner very textually using the kids against each other in other ways - having them literally duel each other in the circle game, but also the "driving them to do exactly what he wants" stuff - I don't think it's unreasonable to figure that fear of harm to the other kids was a manipulation tactic used in the lab.

that definitely includes One - lines like "I'm not going with you / if he finds me he will find you" "I wanted to help you, but I only made things worse" smack of a guy kept in line by fear of something happening to the kids.

and the Brenner-orchestrating-El's-murder story smells like a psyop. is this just Brenner wanting One to think harm would come to El as a consequence of his actions? (she became "uncontrollable" as a result of his coaching). El is too valuable an asset to actually kill. who would know better than One that the treatment for being uncontrollable is soteria, not death? assuming One is being truthful, why would he not see through that. idek what I think is going on here anymore

anyway. MKUltra is ALL about manipulation but I'll talk more about that in my other post

times El protects her friends the same way she protected One

practically every move El makes is about protecting her friends but I want to point out a few times that are specifically reminiscent of her protection of One, where she's ready to give up her freedom to protect her friends even at risk of the worst case scenario (going back to the lab):

sacrificing herself to protect the party from the demogorgon ("no more") <- is that line in reference to the 6 people the demogorgon has snatched, or is that a massacre reference given how incredibly parallel these scenes are. I'm not sure whether "goodbye Mike" meant she thought she'd die or just get so wiped out that she'd be easily recaptured by the lab

leaving Kali and "freedom" to return to Hawkins and protect her friends, where she volunteers to go back into the lab to close the gate

leaving Cali and "freedom" to return to the lab to get her powers back to protect her friends

final thought: I just had a chuckle with myself at the fact that iirc it's Mike and Nancy whose lives El has individually, directly saved the most times.

[honorable mention for Max because I don't know how to quantify 4x9. is that like one massive save?]

like, Mike, okay, but why the Nancy emphasis when she and El have basically zero onscreen relationship. (actually I have a lot to say about El and Nancy coming up soon that might add context)

idk.. lab sibling guilt smth smth El protecting Nancy "she'll be like your new sister" and Mike "will you be like my brother" Creeler. you gotta love it

[alexa-nowak]

One of my old texts from YouTube arguments about Astarion endings

I am not that invested in this discourse nowadays because I lost hope to change anyone's opinion and also, I am simply tired from dealing with toxic bs that I am getting as a response to some of my old comments on YT to this day. My favourites are those who will reply to my every comment to say how delulu I am and I probably just dreaming about being in a toxic relationships myself, while being unable to understand that people have their own ways to heal through art and that throwing poison on people like that is not helpful at all.

I will leave it there and funny enough, I am not even so much of AA fan, I just don't like people being ignorant and rude.

And I like writing essays, so here it is.

So, what this dark romance fantasy is about for me personally,(even though i prefer spawn romance, i absolutely understand the appeal of asc Astarion because honestly, i was all about this kind of romance during my childhood and teenage years, hardocore the Phantom of the Opera girl is here, inside your head 💀), and why it's also healing route for some players,and no, it's not about kinky vampiric banging.

1)A lot of people feel extremely worthless and insecure, lonely, like no one really cares for them at all. It's a very deep wound that hurts and it's difficult to overcome even in perfectly loving, healthy and supportive relationship with a good partner,and even with therapy. So fantasy about a vampire, being obsessed with you so much that he is ready to do absolutely anything just to be with you for forever is really comforting. Also,you don't have to think too much about your imperfections, because for him you like a center of his vampire heart.

Besides, you sympathise with him - it's like a selfcomfort mirror, i love this monster despite everything, so in a way, i accept myself despite any flaws i see in me.

2) Safety. When the world around you feel like a wilderness, full of monsters, it feels like only the most terrifying loving monster can protect you from it. He is powerful and protective, and i am so precious to him, that he will set the world on fire just so i would be safe.

3) Responsibility. As you may see, this kind of relationship have daddy issues vibes and codependency, and in real life, you can't just fully submit safely to anyone, I don't think i have to explain why it's a dangerous idea to seek this kind of relationships in real life. You have to stay a grown up independent person and seek safety for yourself without expecting someone to come and heal all your wounds. But this is fantasy, so finally you can use this as a comfort fantasy with no fear about being taking advantage of, without shame to be called childish and etc.

4) Independence. Spawn ending is very terrifying for anyone who has issues with feeling safe and independent, because some of us prefer violent power fantasies over "we have each other and that's all that matters", second of all, this ending also has some shady co-dependency undertone to it that can be triggering for some people. I love Spawn Astarion a little bit more more than Asc and yet my heart stayed absolutely broken after running away from the sun scene, and i hate that he is so dependent on Tav. Larian owes me some emotional refund after this.

5)SA trauma: it wasn't even seen as a possibility for healing way by writer, but it is for some.Asc Astarion feels like he is the most powerful creature in the world,and he is fully controlling everything that happens between him and Tav,so finally, it's a kind of situation where there is no chance of him being abused again. It's one of the reasons why some people become Doms in BDSM dynamic relationships: finally, full control of the process and a partner, who trusts then enough to fully submit, trust issues is also big deal in Astarion story of healing. I find idea that that only Subs can enjoy Asc Astarion a little bit naive. Because,well, some news for you: Doms like it too because they understand why he is so eager to be a top :D

Unrealistic, not the healthiest way? Probably! But this man and this love is not real anyway.

Yes, i think many of us, especially folks who went through therapy and a lot of self reflecting are already aware that it's basically romanticized version of narcissistic obsession and in real life this is creepy, but it's not real, it's a fantasy. People use BDSM to heal, romance books and all other forms of art to deal with their inner demons and it's absolutely normal. Even if someone is blind to see what is wrong with Asc Astarion, I highly doubt that toxic bucket of shame and aggression are able to help see anyone problematic side of things. Do you know who is usually up to romanticize toxic dynamic in romance? Victims of abuse. In real life, if you just scream and yell at any poor girl/boy/whatever about how stupid they are for believing that their abusive partner really loves them, people will either break down and cry or tell you to f#ck off and they will have every right to do so, but they won't see what's wrong with their partner,in whom quite often victims of abuse see their only source of love and safety in life.

Hells, I am so sick and tired from this "white cloak knight saviour from cycle of abuse" toxic flood in this fandom. If you really want to educate people - do it with extreme care and compassion. Real life healing is not working like it's with Astarion in the game,few right dialogs and boom, dude is on the right path.

It takes enormous amount of patience and love, be kind to one another, and stay safe, darlings. Being toxic on Asc fans you are not helping anyone, you just hitting your superiority complex button in your ass.

[onismdaydream]

HIIII!!!!! it's me again, the most obsessed and horniest yuji lover!♡🎀

Didn't have anything to do today so I have been on tumbler looking for any yuji content I can get my hands on :p! And I am just OBSESSED with headcanons, specifically yuji as your boyfriend! AHH!!!

Like, how would he first tell you he likes you? How long would it take? Ugh, now me personally, I can only imagine having a movie night alone, megumi and nobara canceled ofc because they don't want to watch whatever bs movie yuji picks :(. And then so there you are, Both cuddled up on the couch, a little to close together, and he is just.. so flustered! But why? It's not like he likes you or anything! Well, turns out he does and he JUST realized. So when the two protagonists in the romantic comedy yall are watching suddenly confess, he can't hold it back! It just blurts out of his mouth..which would be a bad thing, until you reveal you like him back!♡

Idk, I just find it soo cute, and honestly totally something he would do. 🤷‍♀️. But then like, first date? Would he take you to eat, the movies, or maybe to the mall?

Now this one, I'm not too sure, to many options and I love them all, but he would DEFINITELY make it romantic and cute ><!

Okay, but now like one of the MILLION dollar questions is.... how would he act on your period!

I'm sorry, but every single small headcanon, or fic of how ANYBODY would treat you while ur on your period is straight up Crack to me. I NEED IT. I love the wholesome headcanons. 😔🎀!

I think.. he would notice that your acting different, he cares about you after all so he notices every little thing. So when he sees you look uncomfy or maybe rubbing you hand on your thigh, trying to relieve some pain.. he asks you what's wrong! And when you tell him, I feel like he would IMMEDIATELY do whatever you want to make you feel better. LITERALLY.

"Oh. Really? Is there anything I can do?"

Chocolate? In ur hands the second you ask. Meds for the pain, he's got them? Blanket? YES! cuddles? Okay, is that even a question? OBVI!!!

Second million dollar question is how/what he would do yalls first time. Last headcanon i said was crack, but this one is like all drugs COMBINED. I like to think it would be a makeout session gone to far..

That movie you played has a sex scene, which, really doesn't bother you or him.. or it usually doesn't. Today though, a small thought forms in his brain. How would you look? Sound? Smell? Taste? Feel..? And then it's akward, because you're so close, and his hand just starts massaging your thigh, and he has to kiss you! Which at this point in the relationship isn't like super surprising, I'm sure yuji loves to kiss you. But this one feels different, yujis face is just soo pink, and he almost can't keep his hands off of you! Cupping one cheek while pushing you down on the couch with the other, so he's on top.. then one of his knees pushes your thighs apart.. 🧎‍♀️

You know the rest.

But I also like to think maybe yall are making out, you on top of his lap, but you can't stop squirming! And it really isn't on purpose, you swear.. but yuji can only take so much, And eventually he can't hide his moans anymore!

Yeah idk I feel like humping n shit, maybe cummin in his pants is SO hot. UGH

I don't think it would really be planned..😋🎀

Also, I feel like he would be super flustered and kinda embarrassed with oral. In the sense that, he could spend hours between your thighs (we all know he's a munch), but the first time you ask to suck him off, he probably turns into a whiny mess.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO THIS. Like- I'm sorry, but no matter how dominant or kinky people make yuji, which I won't lie I love, you CANNOT tell me this man doesn't whine or moan your name. You simply can't. LOOK AT HIM.!!! 🧎‍♀️🙏

I just, have so many thoughts and headcanons.. l can't control myself yuji headcanons are literally my drug. I love the subby ones, the Dom ones, fluff ones, smut ones... I DONT CARE. If a yuji headcanon exists, I WILL read it.

Omg, I have so much more but I have already made this soo long. I honestly just wanted to ask if you would ever make your own yuji head canons? Maybe you already have and I can't find it.. BUT LET ME KNOW!

I just HAVE to know what headcanons are floating around in that wonderful brain of yours!♡

Also so glad to see you liked my past rant♡♡!!!

I really hope you have a good day/night!!!! Make sure ur taking care of urself babes bc I can't survive without you><! 🎀

(Also sorry for any typos or whatever, this was 100% rushed because my fingers physically cannot keep up with all the thoughts I have of yuji.)

With a heart full of love, and a brain full of yuji,

-your horniest yuji lover!♡🎀

hi lovely <333

gonna put this under a read more so it doesn't take up too much space!

oooh headcanons are fun!! i don't post a ton, not for any particular reason, i just seem to gravitate towards snippets in established relationships.

omg yuji just blurting it out :(( what a sweetheart! he is mortified but i feel like he would try his best to play it cool, though his face feels like it's on fire from how flushed it is!! but then you tell him that you also like him and he visibly relaxes SO much and has the biggest smile on his face and he immediately wants to hug you and hold you close <3

i think for first dates, he would lean towards movies/mall, this way it's still semi-public. it's not that he doesn't want to spend time with you alone (he wants to soooo badly), but i think he thinks he has to take it slow and be sweet and gentlemanly. like he was definitely taught the "proper way" to court a girl by his grandfather, so he holds doors open for you and pulls out your chair and brings you flowers and stuff and its just so sweet of him idk. he might hesitate a bit for pda stuff, but once you give him the okay, he is constantly holding your hand or wrapping an arm around you!! maybe even asking for a kiss!! (side note: i think yuji gets all pouty when you forget to give him a goodbye kiss later in the relationship)

yes!! yuji would ABSOLUTELY be doing anything and everything for you as soon as he notices any symptoms or side effects. he's also the type to track your period on his phone lol just so he can prepare and give you some chocolate or whatever else might help! he is just like. the nicest and most caring boyfriend ever <3333

OOOH i love love love both of those for first time ughhh!! i have a fic i've been meaning to work on more but i'm just a little too fried to write much of anything, anyway its a dry humping fic with yuji because i just know he loves the feeling of it ! he can't even get embarrassed from cumming in his pants because it feels so good and he likes how dirty it is (he's a bit of a perv :3). BUT i also love the idea that he just can't help himself and he's so wrapped up in the moment that he doesn't even notice that his knee is pressing against your core... like he's licking into your mouth and grinding against you and you have to pull away because holy shit this feels great and you want more!! and it's kinda rushed and messy, barely taking clothes off but you both need each other so bad!!! (he makes up for it by taking his time with you for round 2 lol)

oh what i would GIVE to suck his dick... yuji is 100% super vocal in my opinion, like he cannot be quiet, which is why his mouth is always on you when he's fucking you! he's always kissing or biting or talking, so when you're sucking him off, he is left to just talk and make so much noise. whining and praising you because it feels so good to have your mouth wrapped around him <3 like imagine sitting between his strong thighs, looking up at him, and his eyes are half lidded, mouth open as he breaths heavily, tongue darting out to lick at his lips, muscles flexing as he tries not to force your head further down or buck his hips up.... ugh he's so hot...

i'd love to write more headcanons and other things for yuji!! its just a matter of me getting inspired or having the energy right now. work has been super draining for me so its been a little difficult to get my brain working lol but im hoping it'll pass in a few weeks

thank you for sharing these with me!!! i love hearing other people's thoughts and headcanons like its just so fun to see what's similar and whatnot :3

[circeyoru]

Is the Collector capable of feeling romance? Sorry if you've already answered this or something similar😅

I know it's our choice, but i would like to know from the writer's perspective.

This is for {Collection of Overlords}, check MASTERLIST for the work

If it's something similar... I think it'll be the ask about if the Collector/you are ace or like Alastor when it comes to romance and relationships, the main answer is here and the add-on is here.

But, in my perspective, the answer to your question is yes. You're capable of feeling romance and do feel such things. Now why it was never explored in the story up until now is because you take your standing into consideration.

After Part 7, you're set up as one of the sides of the universal balance. So pretty OP (overpowered), just not a top-of-the-world type of deal since you share this same title with Trick. BUT you are the top person in Hell, so yeah.

The closest 'romance' you have of feeling is towards Alastor. Remember you healing him? Yeah, you didn't need to show yourself to him to heal him nor do you need to make your appearance known in the hotel. You being out in the open is a way of showing that you care. I mean, you even stayed and started a new project of yours. Your favouritism is 'love', but I didn't show it as obviously because the focus group this time included other Overlords.

Your love language here is Acts of Service. If it's not obvious enough. Cause you treasure your collection and their uses. You'd be in love with what they do in your name, like someone is killing for you or growing strong for your attention. Are you a narcissist? Not really. You're not that self-centered or arrogant, nor do you lack empathy and consideration for other people. You're just more selective in your care and attention. That's how you got your collection in the palm of your hands.

Yet you can't help but give more favouritism to Alastor because of his over-the-top devotion to you. But, not sure if anyone noticed, Alastor's not the only one to submit to you as quick, Zestial is the other one. (a bit of lore here) The reason why Zestial and Alastor got along was cause they have that in common. Now why you favour Alastor more? Because Zestial is not as active as Alastor when it came to his services.

While Alastor hunts down unworthy and self-proclaimed Overlords for you, Zestial collects information and assesses the situation with his wisdom. See, Zestial doesn't actually do much to be frank. He as the oldest in the Collection is good to you when it comes to teaching new souls that enter your collection, that's all. Not to mention, he holds unspoken power when you aren't present in meetings. Like in episode 2, everyone quiets down, listens, and agrees with Zestial. It's cause Zestial is seen as another you.

Why not Alastor? Because he's just seeking your attention, he doesn't care for leading the group on or helping the others, he doesn't care about others or giving them a chance to gain what would be his attention and favour from you. Alastor is well aware that the collection has such a variety of demons and personalities because you want demons with different talents and focus. Most of the other Overlords knew this too, there's a hierarchy that I won't explain here.

Oh, Alastor's not the only candidate for your 'love'. There are bits of romance towards Carmilla and Rosie, if you prefer that. Otherwise, see it as platonic~

These are my thoughts. In the end, you're the one interpreting the story and 'you'.