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emadarkblog · 1 year

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lust (4)𖤐 wednesday addams

𖤐 wednesday addams x vampire!reader (she/her - but imagine any pronouns you want) 𖤐 reader realising what she feels for wednesday, bloodlust 𖤐

underneath the pale glow of the moon, a clandestine encounter unfolded between wednesday addams and y/n. the night air was laced with a sense of forbidden longing, and the two found themselves drawn together by an irresistible force.

with trepidation and anticipation swirling in the air, wednesday and y/n found themselves standing in the shadowed embrace of garden of the Nevermore Academy. the moon cast an ethereal light upon their faces, illuminating the unspoken desire that had ignited between them.

y/n's heart raced as she dared to break the invisible barrier that had kept them apart. their eyes locked, and in that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the magnetic pull between them. a shared understanding passed between wednesday and y/n, a recognition of the emotions that had silently unfolded.

in the hushed silence, y/n reached out, her hand trembling ever so slightly, and cupped wednesday's cheek, the coolness of her skin sending shivers down their spine. wednesday's dark eyes glimmered with a mix of vulnerability and longing, mirroring the emotions that y/n had so desperately tried to deny.

the tension between them escalated, their bodies drawn closer by an unseen gravitational force. in that suspended moment, their lips finally met — a collision of conflicting emotions and suppressed desires.

the kiss was soft and gentle, a meeting of souls hidden beneath layers of animosity. the moon bore witness as their lips moved in perfect synchrony, an unspoken confession of the feelings they had both tried to bury. the world seemed to stand still, allowing them to immerse themselves in this stolen moment of passion and vulnerability.

as their lips parted, a breathless silence settled between them, their gazes locked once more. in that lingering moment, the weight of their unspoken truths hung in the air, mingling with the tender affection that had blossomed between wednesday and y/n.

the moonlight continued to bathe them, casting a spell upon their intertwined destinies. it was a moment that defied logic, a forbidden connection that defied the boundaries of their worlds. they both knew that this encounter would forever alter the course of their lives, setting in motion a path fraught with challenges, but brimming with the promise of an extraordinary love, and…

*beep* *beep*

y/n woke up from her dream in utter shock, not knowing what happened or if it was real. that is until flashbacks come crashing at her.

“i think there's some tension between you and wednesday"

“romantic tension”

”there's a certain energy between you”

“there's also this spark of attraction”

“you two have been hiding your feelings”

“spark”

“feelings”

“tension”

“romantic tension”

“wait but- i can’t-“ y/n stopped, air leaving her lungs not allowing her to continue.

goosebumps ran over her body, her fangs weren’t much helping, creating a toothache.

confusion and turmoil consumed y/n as she grappled with her conflicting emotions. how could she harbor affection for someone she had long considered their nemesis? her once rock-solid convictions began to crumble, and a new truth emerged — she were falling for wednesday addams.

fangs now fully out, y/n didn’t know what’s happening, other than her realizing her feelings, but that wasn’t important right now.

she couldn’t express what she was feeling right now because of the pain that was leaving her entire body in numbness.

her eyes turning red, her own saliva filling her mouth as she smelled a prey in the distance, so she ran as fast as she could so no one could see her or hear her. she was faster than the light, sound or anything else in this existence.

she knew she couldn't feed on humans, but the temptation was sometimes too strong to resist. now, she found herself on the brink of losing it until…

as wednesday stood against the wall, her usual composure faltered for a moment. she could sense an intense presence approaching, an alluring force that she couldn't resist. it was y/n, consumed by her bloodlust and drawn to wednesday's unique essence.

as y/n pressed wednesday against the wall, her fangs bared, a mixture of desire and hunger danced in her eyes. but in that crucial moment, something unexpected happened. wednesday's piercing gaze met the y/n's intense stare, and a flicker of realization crossed the vampire's face.

a surge of conflicting emotions rushed through y/n's veins, battling against the primal urge to feed. the familiar darkness inside her collided with a newfound spark of humanity. images of the addams family's unwavering loyalty and peculiar charm flashed in her mind, challenging the nature of her existence.

in that brief pause, wednesday, never one to shy away from danger, placed a hand against y/n's cheek. the touch was gentle yet grounding, reminding the vampire of a forgotten sense of connection. their eyes locked, sharing a silent understanding.

with each passing moment, y/n's bloodlust waned, replaced by a profound curiosity and a yearning for something beyond hunger. she realized that in this vulnerable state, she had nearly succumbed to her primal instincts, ready to harm someone who had unexpectedly captivated her heart.

reluctantly, y/n released her grip, stepping back to regain control over her impulses. wednesday, always intrigued by the unknown, tilted her head slightly. she noticed the inner struggle the vampire faced, sensing a bond formed in that intense encounter.

“i nearly killed you.” y/n said in utter shock. she always dreamed of killing wednesday, but from now on, she would rather be pierced by thousands of wooden stick than existing without wednesday breathing.

“i apologize for my bad actions, i wasn’t planning on doing this and i would very much appreciate keeping this just between us,” y/n said and wednesday was surprised by the vampire’s words. she never talked like that. why does she sound so mature?

“i accept your apology. i will keep this scenario a secret.” wednesday continued, “but if you do this again, i guarantee you, i will grab the nearest thing and stick it into your heart repeatedly.”

y/n smiled, relief washing over her.

if it brings you joy, i would let you stab me millions of times only to see you smile for the first time.

but y/n never said that out loud.

#jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams fic #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams imagines #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday fanfic #wednesday addams angst #wednesday addams x vampire reader #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednsday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x vampire!reader

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nickeverdeen · 4 months

Note

going to a fancy party with five undercover but they secretly have feeling for eachother?

Going to fancy party with Five Hargreeves undercover while having feelings towards each other

The atmosphere within the Umbrella Academy hummed with anticipation as the siblings prepared for their latest mission—an undercover operation at a high-society gala. The objective: to gather intelligence on a clandestine target lurking within the echelons of the elite.

Y/N, adorned in an elegant gown that seemed to shimmer with every step, found themselves paired with Five Hargreeves for this mission. It was a rarity for them to embark on a mission alone, and the weight of the task heightened as they ventured into the world of glamour, where secrets were often buried beneath layers of opulence.

The grand ballroom, bathed in the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, unfolded before them as they entered the gala. Five, in a tailored suit that spoke of understated sophistication, looked every bit the part of a high-ranking guest. Y/N couldn't help but appreciate the transformation—his usual sharp edges softened by the refined attire.

As they moved through the throngs of elegantly dressed patrons, exchanging pleasantries and coded words, Y/N's admiration for Five grew. His ability to seamlessly blend into the intricate tapestry of the upper crust was a testament to his skill, and with each passing moment, the line between mission and personal sentiment blurred.

Unbeknownst to each other, a clandestine dance unfolded—a dance not of espionage, but of emotions kept hidden. Y/N, catching glimpses of Five in the play of shadows and elegant attire, felt a flutter in their chest—an acknowledgment of feelings that had remained unspoken.

In the midst of the masquerade, Y/N and Five found themselves alone on a balcony overlooking the city lights. The moonlit scene set the stage for a moment that teetered on the edge of revelation.

"You clean up nicely, Five," Y/N remarked, the words carrying a blend of casual banter and genuine admiration.

He smirked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I do try my best. You don't look too shabby yourself, if I may say."

Y/N, momentarily caught off guard by the compliment, replied with a chuckle, "I suppose we make quite the pair tonight."

As the night unfolded, they navigated the dance of intrigue and deception with a synchronicity that seemed almost rehearsed. Yet, beneath the guise of their undercover personas, a silent understanding lingered—an awareness that their connection was evolving into something beyond the confines of the mission.

The final notes of the orchestra echoed through the grand hall, signaling the end of the gala. Y/N and Five regrouped in the shadows, exchanging a glance that spoke volumes. It was a glance that hinted at the complexities beneath the surface—a shared recognition of unspoken sentiments.

As they returned to the Umbrella Academy, the glamour of the gala faded, but the echoes of the night lingered. Y/N, still adorned in their elegant attire, couldn't shake the feeling that the mission had unveiled more than just covert information. It had unraveled the delicate threads of emotions that danced between them, waiting to be acknowledged.

In the quiet corridors of the academy, amidst the remnants of their undercover roles, Y/N pondered the possibility that the next mission might not just uncover secrets of the world they navigated but could also unravel the mysteries of the feelings that had been concealed beneath the facade of espionage.

#request #imagine #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #five tua #number five x reader #five x reader

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sam198 · 6 months

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Chapter One: A Tale of Envy

In the quaint town of Eldoria, where magic and reality intertwined, Sir John and Sam's paths converged in the echoing halls of the mystical training academy. Sir John, a weathered sage with a limp, hairy tail, bore the weight of years etched onto his diminutive frame. In contrast, Sam, the epitome of youthful vitality, stood tall with a clean-shaven, grand tail that mirrored the strength of his well-sculpted physique.

Sir John's aging visage held a map of stories and lessons learned. Liver spots adorned his face, a testament to the passage of countless seasons. His stooped shoulders carried the burden of wisdom, while his thin, cracked lips whispered tales of experiences both bitter and sweet. The tiny, withered balls between his legs told a story of magical reservoirs drained by the sands of time.

On the other side of the spectrum stood Sam, the embodiment of vigorous youth. His chestnut hair framed a face sculpted by divine symmetry, and his hazel eyes sparkled with an energy that seemed to defy the laws of mortality. Broad shoulders, sculpted chest, and arms that spoke of countless hours spent in the pursuit of physical excellence showcased the results of relentless training. His full, plump balls, a source of potent Samen, hinted at a magical vitality that pulsated through his very core.

The academy's training sessions were a stage where Sam's prowess flourished, leaving Sir John in the shadows of envy. Despite years under Sam's tutelage, Sir John's frail form remained untouched by the transformative magic that coursed through the academy's hallowed halls.

One fateful evening, as the moon cast its silvery glow upon Eldoria, Sir John, consumed by envy, hatched a plan to bridge the chasm that separated him from Sam's vibrant existence. This plot would weave a tale of magical exchange, jealousy, and unforeseen consequences.

As the clock ticked towards midnight, Sir John approached Sam in the dimly lit training chamber. The air crackled with a mix of anticipation and a whisper of trepidation.

"Sam," Sir John called out, his voice laden with a rare intensity. "I need your guidance, a special training that only you can provide."

Sam, always eager to help, turned toward Sir John with a warm smile. "Of course, Sir John. What do you need?"

Little did Sam know that this request would set in motion a series of events that would alter the very fabric of their magical existence.

Chapter Two: The Enchanted Exchange

Sam, unsuspecting and benevolent, nodded in agreement. "Follow my lead, Sir John. We'll embark on a unique training journey tonight."

As they settled into the ancient runes inscribed on the training chamber floor, Sam began guiding Sir John through a series of magical exercises. The air hummed with a mystical energy, and the two men immersed themselves in the dance of enchantment.

💱💱💱💱💱💱💱

Unknown to Sam, Sir John had surreptitiously woven a spell into the training routine. As they delved deeper into the mystical exercises, Sir John subtly redirected the magical currents, setting in motion the clandestine exchange he sought.

The first change unfolded in Sam's majestic tail. A subtle shiver coursed through its length as it began to lose its grandeur. Sam, immersed in the magical flow, felt a disconcerting twinge deep within. His brow furrowed as he continued the exercises, unknowingly surrendering a piece of his magical vitality.

Meanwhile, Sir John's diminutive, limp tail stirred with newfound energy. It responded to the clandestine spell, growing more robust and lively. The hairy strands seemed to stand on end, absorbing the magical essence siphoned from Sam's once-grand appendage.

Emotions played across Sam's face—a mix of confusion and slight discomfort. "Sir John, is everything alright?" he inquired, sensing a subtle shift in the magical currents.

Sir John, feigning concern, replied, "Just a minor adjustment, Sam. Keep going."

The exchange continued, the magical energies intertwining in a delicate dance. Sam's tail, once a symbol of his strength, slowly dwindled in size. He began to feel an overwhelming drain, a sense of depletion that echoed through every fiber of his being.

As Sam's tail lost its grandeur, Sir John's frail body absorbed the stolen vitality. The small, limp tail now pulsed with newfound strength, a stark contrast to its former state. Sir John, concealed behind a mask of feigned effort, reveled in the unfolding transformation.

However, the exchange was not without consequences. The drain on Sam's magical vitality reached a tipping point. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and the once-confident personal trainer stumbled. The magical tether between their tails fluctuated, causing Sam to gasp in sudden realization.

"Something's not right," Sam muttered, his voice betraying a mix of confusion and concern.

Sir John, seizing the opportunity, pressed on with the charade. "Just a momentary imbalance, Sam. Keep going, we're almost there."

The chamber pulsated with the ebb and flow of magical currents, sealing the fate of the clandestine exchange.

#body swap #cockshrink #male body swap #bodyswap #toptobottom #reality change #age progress #age regression #cock theft

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omegalomania · 8 months

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i kept forgetting to do this, but i finally remembered we got permission to upload the full pieces done for the SEASONS ZINE! they're not quite as good without @deathchic's gorgeous prose accompanying them, but they were really exciting to put together.

full breakdowns of the symbolism and unobstructed views of each card can be found beneath the cut, fully transcribed. as a warning, they are LONG.

my category was "fall," which encompassed the folie and save rock and roll eras, including the welcome to the new administration mixtape and pax am days ep. seeing as i've a great deal of love for all four of those works and fall out boy has four members, i decided to highlight each work by creating a tarot-inspired card, each featuring a member of the band.

Welcome to the New Administration: Pete Wentz

Pete was the primary organizer behind the viral campaign for CitizensFOB, making him the ideal pick for this card. His card prominently features his bass guitar with the iconic Clandestine logo.

Repeating Number 4: 4 stars above the eagle's head, 4 markings across the cube at the center, 4 members of the band

The tri-colored drapes behind Pete were suspended behind the band on the mixtape cover. The curtains parting over a black background signifies the oncoming hiatus.

The cube-like geometric shape in front of the eagle represents the single promotional art done for "America's Suitehearts," which was one of the tracks demoed in the mixtape and one of the singles that connected most prominently with the themes of the mixtape.

The shield Pete carries and the eagle mounted behind him are both symbols that were used to promote the CitizensFOB viral campaign, featuring the catchphrase: "For Our Betterment, There Is More Mayhem."

Pete's apparel is what he was wearing for the Believers Never Die Part Deux tour, in which there was a lot of direct satirization of Wall Street and American politics. All the band members were wearing suits and looking visibly battered, and Pete had a nosebleed. Patrick also has a nosebleed on his own card; both Pete and Patrick's cards are pre-hiatus projects.

The symbols at the four corners of the card are indicative of the imagery surrounding the campaign. The pointing hand comes from the cover for the mixtape; the airplane is a reference to the "Mailbaick Vaintey and Pidetaerson Firm" videos and accounts that were used in the viral campaign; the wolf head is for the "Alpha Dog" demo, which made its debut on the CitizensFOB mixtape and namedropped "Welcome to the New Administration" title in its demo form; the boomerang is for the "Lake Effect Kid" demo, which also made its debut on the CitizensFOB mixtape.

"The Citizen" is an obvious reference to the "Citizens For Our Betterment" campaign name.

The card features 12 colors, all colorpicked from the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape cover. This represents the 12 artists who contributed the mixtape musically (not merely speaking roles): The Academy Is..., Butch Watcher, The Cab, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Four Year Strong, Gym Class Heroes, Hey Monday, The Hush Sound, Panic! At The Disco, A Rocket to the Moon, and Tyga.

The background elements are indicative of the state of the band prior to the hiatus: the leaves are in tatters and shreds. The sunflower is a native Chicago variant, Helianthus occidentalis, late-blooming sunflower that lasts well into early fall. Sunflowers obviously have a strong association with the sun, but they also stand for adoration, loyalty, good fortune, vitality, longevity, and prosperity. The bright yellow color also associates them with intelligence, happiness, and friendship. Van Gogh had a famous Sunflower series, leading to the obvious connection to Infinity on High, the album preceding the Folie era. This made it a good pick for the pre-hiatus cards, since it was loyalty and friendship that led to the hiatus and ultimately to the band's longevity and vitality. Both Folie à Deux and the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape had more yellow tones than their post-hiatus counterparts as well, thus the pick of a yellow flower.

Folie à Deux: Patrick Stump

Patrick has stated that Folie à Deux is the most "him" out of Fall Out Boy's discography, making him ideal for this card.

Repeating Number 4: 4 electric bursts from the microphone, 4-sided symbol mounted on the microphone, 4 ruffles on Dr. Benzedrine's front

The card features 13 colors to represent the 13 tracks on the album itself (excluding bonus tracks). All colors were colorpicked directly from the album cover.

The anchor is a reference to the lyrics of "27," with a crown symbol on it in reference to "Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet."

There are 9 stripes on the upper side of the background, as a reference to "West Coast Smoker" - the suicidal cats have 9 lives.

The microphone represents Patrick's role as vocalist. It is also a reference to "(Coffee's for Closers)," as the microphone stand is electrified.

Patrick's right half is modeled after his costume in the "America's Suitehearts" video, "Dr. Benzedrine." He has a nosebleed in reference to the lyrics of the song that is his namesake, "20 Dollar Nose Bleed." Both he and Pete represent pre-hiatus projects, and both have bleeding noses.

Patrick's left half is modeled after his costume in the "What A Catch, Donnie" video. He has 20 stripes on his shirt - half black and half white, keeping with themes of duality. The 20 total stripes also references "20 Dollar Nose Bleed."

The background on the bottom half is shattered into 15 visible fragments, indicating the 15 tracks of the full album (when including bonus tracks such as "Pavlove" and "Lullabye"). There are also 27 fragments scattered between the two halves of Patrick, representing "27" and the 27 club.

The symbols at the four corners have dual meanings, in keeping with the theme of duality. The bee is both a lyrical reference to "Lullabye" and a nod to the intro of "Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes"; the storm cloud is both a nod to the lyrics of "She's My Winona" and a reference to the "Mr. Sandman" character in the "America's Suitehearts" video; the horseshoe crab is both a reference to the lyrics on "The (Shipped) Gold Standard" and to the character of "H. Shoe Crab" in the "America's Suitehearts" video; the sunflower acknowledges the lyrics in "27" about shooting the sunshine into one's veins and nods to the flower on the hat of the "Donnie the Catcher" character in the "America's Suitehearts" video.

"The Mirror" references the theming of duality on the album, as well as the fact that the vinyl required a mirror for one to read the tracklisting since the text was printed backwards.

The card features heavy themes of duality to suit the theme of a "madness shared by two." The image is bisected in several respects: Patrick is fractured in two, both halves wearing different costumes and expressions; the shadow in the center is split down the middle; the broken heart in the upper half is also two faces; the image is divided both horizontally and vertically; and a dichotomy of fire (the electrified microphone stand) and water (the anchor).

Save Rock and Roll: Joe Trohman

Joe took a much more active writing role post-hiatus and on this album in particular, making him a good pick to represent Save Rock and Roll.

Repeating Number 4: 4 symbols, 4-pointed symbol holding up the others

The card features 11 colors, representing 11 tracks on the album. All colors were color-picked directly from the album cover, with an emphasis on reds, to suit the "red palette" imagery surrounding the album.

This card is saturated with imagery from the 11-part video series the band released in conjunction with the album, "The Youngblood Chronicles." Joe is wearing the costume he had for the majority of the video series prior to his death.

The card features heavy fire imagery due to this being a motif on the album and on the associated video series, with smoke rising up in the background. This is indicative of the band "rising from the ashes" post-hiatus, and also symbolizes the resurrection of Joe's character at the end of "The Youngblood Chronicles."

The guitar-axe weapon is from the "Death Valley" video and would have been his weapon if he weren't dead at this point in time. The card prominently features Joe's guitar, albeit turned into a weapon, as befitting the theming.

The four symbols mounted behind Joe are also from "The Youngblood Chronicles" - the symbol representing the "Silence the Noise" group; the symbol associated with the gang of child bikers; the symbol the Prince of Darkness tattoos on Joe's hand; and the crown-and-volcano symbol associated with the band post-hiatus. The symbol upon which these four icons are mounted is found on the floor in Heaven in the "Save Rock and Roll" video.

Joe is the only one who does not face the audience directly, and is turned in profile. Given the fictional nature of the narrative of "The Youngblood Chronicles," he has the most distance from the fourth wall.

The symbols at the four corners of the card also draw from imagery from "The Youngblood Chronicles." The disco ball is from the "Where Did the Party Go" video, in which Joe's character dies. The briefcase is a consistent object throughout the entire series, and serves to incite the entire narrative. Patrick's hook hand, also seen throughout, is significant due to Patrick's unwitting role as Joe's murderer. The snake, seen in "Young Volcanoes" and "Just One Yesterday," is representative of the group's collective trauma.

"The Defender" is a reference to the names of the characters of Fall Out Boy in "The Youngblood Chronicles," as they are referred to as "The Defenders of the Faith" in the longform video's opening credits. This title is in and of itself a reference to the title track on Save Rock and Roll.

Pax Am Days: Andy Hurley

The Pax Am Days EP is closest to the band's hardcore roots in terms of sonics and composition, and Andy is the most active in hardcore circles today, which makes him an ideal pick for this card.

Repeating 4: 4 holes in the American flag, 4 supports visible on the toms and bass drum, 4 tears on the left side of the wall

The card features 9 colors, all color-picked from the EP cover, per the 9 tracks on the EP (counting the bonus "New Dreams" Naked Rayguns cover).

There are also 9 tears on the right side of the wall, also befitting the 9 tracks on the EP.

The black-and-white checkered background represents the Pax Am studio where the EP was recorded and after which it was named.

Andy is the only one whose card features him looking directly at the audience, to signify the more intimate recording sessions behind the EP, in which studio chatter and laughter can be heard between every track. Being the drummer of the band, Andy's drumkit is naturally featured very prominently.

The crown-volcano symbol that's become synonymous with the band post-hiatus is (barely) visible mounted on Andy's bass drum. This is a similarity Andy's card shares with Joe's, as they both represent post-hiatus projects.

The American flag was also present in the studio for recording. The flag being torn and shredded on the card relates to tracks on the EP that discuss disillusionment with the American dream ("American Made"). It is also indicative of the eras preceding and following the Pax Am EP (Folie à Deux and the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape, and then American Beauty / American Psycho).

The four symbols at the corners of the card all represent lyrics present on the EP: the crown comes from "We Were Doomed from the Start (The King is Dead)"; the lion comes from "Demigods"; the black widow comes from "Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside"; the skull comes from "Love, Sex, Death."

"The Believer" is a reference to the final compilation prior to the band's four-year hiatus, "Believers Never Die." With the band returning seemingly from the dead, it seems that believers truly never die. This is paired with Andy reportedly being the only member of the band who always believed they would get back together, even if none of the others did.

The background elements for the post-hiatus cards feature leaves with much more reddish tones. The color red has a great deal of symbolic meanings, including high energy, vitality, strength, and prosperity. Additionally, the fallen leaves are rich and whole, to contrast the shredded-looking leaves in the background for the pre-hiatus cards. After the hiatus, the band's overall health and mentality was much healthier.

The flower in the background is a Madame Julia Correvon clematis, a wine-red Chicago variant of clematis that blooms in the summer and fall. Clematis flowers are associated with mental acuity, wisdom, travel, aspiration, and mischief. Red clematis in particular is associated with passion, energy, good luck, prosperity, security, physical vitality, and courage. This, along with the red color scheme, made it a good flower to represent the cards for the post-hiatus projects.

#fall out boy #fob #seasons zine #*mine #*art #ids in the alt text #i overthought so much of this symbolism lol #and the flowers arent 100% accurate to what theyre supposed to look like...#alas! it was fun regardless

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jacksmusesdrv3 · 3 months

Note

Your twin theory stuff has been going on for quite some time, have you considered making a run down on it because it’s a bit hard to find all your points and information on it because of how long you’ve spent on it and I’m very curious but struggling to put it all together

(Alright, take two since I got stuck for a loooong while)

This is a basic explanation of the Ouma-Monokuma twin theory! I will do my best to condense the concepts down in a way that flows simply and is easily understandable, but it will be hard to cover everything while keeping to the most relevant information. So if this doesn't do the job, I might finish the much longer meta on ao3 at a later date, in which I will cover… everything I possibly can, no holds barred and without the blog links. Which will take considerably longer and need very careful execution. (Yeah, this is the short version…)

General disclaimer: this is a view informed by at least six years of trial and error, ruminating in canon for patterns and their meaning. Through all this, I recognise that it is still a theory, and it doesn't make others’ ideas less meaningful. All the same, I need you to understand that this theory and its analysis is fundamental to my view of Danganronpa as a whole, not just my feelings about Ouma. And in my opinion, the presence of bad writing in DRV3 does not negate that view, either. So if you believe that it does, I hope we can agree to differ on our reader responses instead, after all is said and done. Thank you.

Alright, with that out of the way, dropping this under a cut as it's lengthy. Though rather than a lot of detail on what this means for Ouma's character right now, I'm going to dig through the surface with the basis of reframing, roles, academy history, psychology, narrative style for the mastermind, and the broader consequences, with feelings from my perspective to wrap up. I hope that will help give a perspective of the theory world, so that any evidence I give should fit easier in the future.

⚠️ Reader discretion is advised- this content details abuse further on and will be marked like this! ⚠️

[‘Then this story's not over.’]

The way I see this situation is basically like a 3D sculpture with two different pictures- ‘the fiction’ and ‘the conspiracy’. That is to say- in the ‘fiction’, there are things that are effectively motifs or throwaway remarks (such as, Ouma's comment about having a brother in his FTE), but in the ‘conspiracy’, they become clues to a hidden interconnected situation. A puzzle in the meta, essentially.

To begin, I’ll outline components of this framing, as these are necessary to understand how this turnabout works.

Catbox world: the question hanging in the air, 'is HPA fiction, or is it real'? What would the consequences of the latter be for the game and outside world of DRV3? In order to begin answering this, I think this way:

Domino effect: 'when you learn a new fact, you learn something else along with it'. Ex: if HPA is real, a very large and clandestine organisation may also be real, since one was connected to HPA's library. With that possibility opened, there are… a lot more potential threads coming from it.

Unreliable narrator: is there something Shuichi is missing? In Ouma's lab, along with the complete history file there are monitors and a hatch, and in his dorm room there’s a whiteboard with pictures and notes scrawled on, the latter two Shuichi doesn't even notice. There are things he cannot verify too - such as Rantaro's odd memory of the forgotten Prologue - which is left up to us, the players.

Contextual reframe: with the new information, we can infer for example that record keepers of the past are made obsolete, and since the HPA history was in Ouma's lab, this could make him a viable record keeper. If TDR's agenda is with historical record, its identity may be the secret society involved in conspiracies. This can greatly affect some of Ouma's comments in hindsight- one relevant to this is his FTE remark about ‘tricking the entire world’.

With doubt already on the most basic aspect of the 'fiction' narrative (that is, ‘HPA is fiction’) we can apply this principle to the Flashback Lights and by extension, the idea that the cast must also be fiction, too.

Ex: Shuichi and Kiibo were made to see the Flashback Light panel in a way that was rigged up to be seen- it should not have been visible to multiple persons, so it's likely to have been tampered. We know Shuichi to be helpless with computers, so he would not be able to verify if anything else is amiss (ex. Kubs Pad and other options being withheld). What's more, with ‘fiction things’ - such as the Shukuchi method for Ryoma - being relevant in both the ‘weird backstory’ and in the main narrative, there's a possibility that some of the Lights are real memories or at least closely based on their real experiences.

[‘A liar like me knows their own kind.’]

When you reframe the context in an excessive manner like this, it can also affect known roles, even events and relationships. I reason it beginning like this:

Tsumugi becomes a patsy for Monokuma. Just like the fake Makoto in DR2 led the narrative to trap Hajime, Tsumugi misled others similarly, with incomplete knowledge of her own cospox. That is, her cospox being real in the sense of the effects on her person, doesn't necessarily mean that HPA is fiction, because it's about her perception

Kiibo becomes a patsy for Monokuma, someone whose true (military) nature was obfuscated to himself on a metaphysical level, via code-hijacking. This means that high-powered functions he has are strange to him, and he’s easily manipulated into believing lies about his function (such as ‘strength of a senior citizen’, and the ‘audience surveys’ that he cannot verify)

Ouma becomes Monokuma’s double, like Mukuro taking the identity of Junko, as the monitors and hatch are a direct parallel to Junko. This means that Ouma has a deeper relationship and notably intrinsic connection to Monokuma as well as less freedom from him, likely has extensive knowledge of everyone, and has his own memories. And from that, an incentive to guide people he considers his friends, to minimise himself and his own struggles while working against Monokuma subtly, even to manufacture his disappearance in ch5 to take the fight to Monokuma alone

Shuichi becomes the ‘shadow mastermind’, like Izuru- the ‘traitor protagonist’ who sealed and sabotaged the group’s will to live, while losing his memory of that. This is reflected by Chapter 1's case, wherein he had created the perfect setup for Kaede to enact her own plan to kill, and had conflict over his actions that he had tried to shut away. It also provides context for Ouma being especially wary of Shuichi, noting on the whiteboard to ‘be cautious’ of him, especially if he has a relationship with Monokuma as well.

These are the big four as far as the mastermind agenda is concerned, but another interesting role-reframe is the Monokubs. Remember that Shirokuma and Kurokuma were fragments of the mastermind, and Shirokuma’s role in UDG is to deceive the player? What if the Monokubs had such a situation, split up into comedic personality fragments? Were the melodramas telling some sort of story as well- the story of Monokuma?

If so, there may be some clues from them. But first…

[‘Designed like a school’]

As to the academy’s lost mystery, it’s possible it was originally an experiment. Rantaro’s hunch was that there was ‘someone behind Monokuma’, and in Salmon mode he points out that Monokuma could have ‘taken over the facility’. A bunch of files in Shuichi’s lab suggest that the culprits of the scenarios were noted for their ‘tricks’, likely pertaining to their Ultimate talent.

A concerning matter is that the details of the Gopher Project’s plans were crossed out, with us unable to see why youngsters of Ultimate status were required. Doubly concerning is that Ouma himself appears to have amazing, even supernatural ability, demonstrated in ch5 with his scripting- a talent such as that is in line with Junko’s abilities.

Speaking of that, it must be said that Junko's true ability was left a mystery by the game's end. It was also a subject of much curiosity by HPA, so if Ouma is a supernaturally talented person, that could speak volumes as to his own position. His status as an 'invisible Ultimate’ alone raises questions as to why it has to be hidden, or rather, why he has to obscure it. It could be that he is oppressed by the talent system itself, and if that's the case, perhaps he is its guinea pig along with V3's Monokuma. But it's not just about Ouma's ability- if Monokuma too had a similarly strong supernatural talent and/or circumstance, that could explain not only his posing as a ‘god’, but Angie’s mysteriously intimate knowledge of others' personal ideals through such a ‘god’. That is, if she was possessed by someone with knowledge of the cast's ideals, and who was exploiting them in the Love Hotel.

Moreover, if Ouma and Monokuma were supernaturally gifted, there's a good possibility that if the vault clues were a layered clue symbolic of them- the ‘light’ and ‘dark’ Monokumas depicted on the ‘twins’ clue for the vault - then they were not only siblings, but twins- identical twins. This allows for another ‘report card misidentification’ a la Junko-Mukuro, while the Flashback Light panel refers to the ‘Gamemaster’ rather than ‘ringleader’ (meaning an identical double could interact with it), and from a lore perspective, twins were known in Danganronpa Kirigiri to be the subject of (highly unethical) research, and identical twins would be the most sought after for genetics reasons.

Such research could eventually wind up creating Ouma and his brother - seemingly the highest of any known talents - through a form of eugenics, not unlike Byakuya’s backstory. From there, there's no telling what could have happened…

[‘Eh…?’]

Now I can get to the psychology behind the bear. If a person behind Monokuma had such a past with this academy, traits can be speculated:

⚠️ Content: incest, child abuse, sexual abuse, psych torture/institutionalisation. ⚠️

Vengeful: in ch2, Monokuma suggests he may hate the cast for something, and tells them to ‘work for the answer’. Interestingly, Monotaro (leader persona) makes note of ‘red lies’ in the Salmon mode, and red lies are for revenge.

Extremely traumatised and mentally ill: if it is Ouma’s brother, and he’s wearing a straitjacket, this could imply institutional abuse. Monokuma’s behaviours in ch3 (a mental shutdown) and ch4 (depression) could denote severe mental damage, and having the academy cleared of bugs gives credence to him having an affliction with bugs like Ouma ( foaming at the mouth and passing out).

Depraved: in ch4, Ouma noted he would ‘strangle the one he loves’ to ‘keep his eyes on him’, and appears to play a similar threatening, possessive role in the Love Hotel. Implied in the Monokubs’ melodrama, Monokuma may have coerced his own sibling into having relations- though he may have forgotten his sibling entirely due to trauma.

People pleaser: Ouma says that he ‘lies to entertain people’ in his Salmon mode ending, which could reflect his persona (Monokuma)’s desires. It may be that his desire to ‘not be boring’ feeds into this persona, too, as it's something so serious to him that it was shown as basically a dying wish.

In this sense, the mastermind can be similar to Monaca- as she took control over the city (while Monokuma stated to have taken over the country), became mentally ill as a result of the abuse inflicted on her, lied (about an injury) in order to make her abusers nicer to her, and became depraved in a way childish and sadistic (in how she toys with Kotoko and Nagisa, for instance). There's also the narrative effect of obscuring her trauma with unreliable narrator, and even Monaca’s own warped sense of humour that obscures it in tandem.

[Twin with supernatural talent (Junko Enoshima), a result of experimentation (Izuru Kamukura), childishness complex (Monaca Towa) and all combined (Kokichi Ouma)]

For narrative styles, DRV3's Monokuma is a culmination of approaches to make the game’s mystery truly warped to its core. Taking the masterminds’ actions from the past games:

Junko selectively picked photographs to sow discord about the group’s reality

AI Junko (a plant by Izuru) tried to lead Hajime into making a choice without proper context

Monaca led Komaru through a growth journey to use her for impact at the end

These can be attributed to:

the Flashback Lights- some real, others ‘rotten apples’, but overall context is dubious

the ‘It is fiction’ declaration- may be a leading question, again with dubious context

Shuichi’s ‘confidence growth’- that makes him more credible to those watching outside

(As for ‘context being dubious’, it should be noted that the Twilight mystery has a similar vibe in terms of how it is chopped up and misrepresented on the first viewing. This is particularly interesting when you factor in the mixed Kubs Pads giving other characters information.)

Speaking of ‘using’, Monokuma talks about how someone could be used by expressions of gratitude. In parallel to this, Shuichi is talking about how he was happy to be ‘useful to others as a detective’, and regards their gratitude personally. But it’s concerning that Shuichi and his history is a topic for ‘Monokuma Theatre’, when you factor in what Monaca did in UDG.

The basic concept is: with Monokuma’s agenda towards the end being to throw out foreshadowing and mystery - to deny its purpose - he wants you to make the decision of ignoring the heart, discarding the mystery and the path to the answer. In this sort of vague and unnerving way, a ‘hidden mastermind’ is like a progression of Monaca’s style. Symbolically, Shuichi’s journey seems to be one where he is on the fringe of going astray the entire time, and in this reading, he ultimately does with the loss of the game's mystery.

What follows is the player's re-examination of the canon context and in this case, a ‘salvage effort’ of what was lost. And ultimately, in the quagmire of broken context, Ouma's mixed relationship with Shuichi is fuel for thought, because his cryptic behaviour - like the game he plays in his FTE - keeps you guessing on what he's been trying to say.

[Members… of what?]

So, factoring in earlier recontextualisation - of the large organisation likely spanning the world - is the idea brought up during Ouma's FTE, that I question like this: could Shuichi have joined a nefarious organisation after all, and following in Salmon mode: is there any indicator Ouma has concerns about Shuichi’s intentions in general (that is, regardless of whether or not his past self would have been capable of less-than-moral decisions)?

What about others in the cast- a Prime Minister who had run away from her post, a military robot, a super inventor, an assassin? An artist with odd brainwashing powers, a musician with the ability to connect to others’ hearts through music? Because given that the DR2 group had affected the world with their talents after being manipulated, it's possible that the V3 group’s talents had a similar part to play, too. For instance, Kaito’s FTE detailed the possibility of communicating with aliens, and trading technology with them- and as it happens, there is notably a very weird technology in the academy, capable of ridiculous feats. This kind of unknown in the narrative speaks of a whole world that we barely know, even now.

If this kind of world is what Ouma is burdened by, something beyond the protagonist's understanding, that too is a story waiting to be told. And his strange interactions with Shuichi could be at the heart of this story…

[‘Just hit the reset button on your feelings’]

As for the relationship with Shuichi, that is particularly difficult to give in evidence- partly given the culprit in his backstory, and how if Monokuma was that culprit - someone with a strong agenda against Shuichi - that might link to both twins. But due to the death of one of the siblings in that backstory, it warrants a supernatural idea such as resurrection, that has yet to be proven viable in-universe. If we remember Angie having a weird supernatural air about her though, and that she was implied to be in a cult, you could still infer that cults were involved in the supernatural. It’s entirely possible that a high-profile cult had come to the point of using resurrections, although that’s very much deeplore, as is the supernatural in general.

So while I can’t say too much about technical lore, like with the organisation, I can talk about the vibes I have with the theory, to focus on a sense of grounding in character instead:

“Ouma and Monokuma are both sidelined by the narrative. A not-insignificant part of that was caused by Shuichi in his past, even if he was led into the cause unwittingly, and the actions of Shuichi’s present self in missing memories. As a result, Ouma is in a nerfed position during the game despite his supernatural talent. Unable to say anything without surveillance, he is under a great deal of stress and pent up, ambivalent feelings - not least towards Shuichi and Monokuma - that he tries mostly to deflect. After all, it would not do to give too much away, and ruin his own plans.”

I have a detailed ‘song lyric analysis’ of sorts to tie to this, as a way of exploring feelings. Part of the reason I’d go this far, is Ouma as the designated ‘narrative scapegoat’ has always just fit well for me, given that the cast is shown to struggle with their treatment of him. Even leaving analysis aside, I feel it would be very satisfying (cathartic, even!) to explore an angle where he was suppressed, and that his position was legitimately the consequence of others actions right from the start, making the whole ‘pretending to be a villain’ situation even more painfully ironic.

Plus it would be a welcome change from the notion of ‘misguided morally-grey antagonist who needs to change’, in my opinion, as Ouma’s unchanging self is something I hold particularly strongly. So instead of the arc of drastic change, the thing to explore would be how he functions and struggles with others (in mundane as well as grand ways), and also gets them to change, to understand him. It would also be interesting to expand on the theme of talent abuse, to have a Monokuma who was a product of the corrupt talent system- rather like Izuru was, but this time fully present in the narrative, and in tandem with someone else connected to him.

Overall, I feel that a situation where the protagonist thinks he’s won, while a mysterious someone has been struggling in the sidelines to affect change, is a real goldmine for a mystery situation. Especially from replaying the game, and picking up odd signs that something may not have been what it seemed. There may not be much to go from there (as things stand right now, at least) but the palpable frustration means that through this perspective, I can - at times very viscerally - imagine Ouma’s frustration and powerlessness. That alone colours the game and the interactions in a whole new light for me.

I hope this helped clarify at least some of what the heck is going on- and why I would even see Ouma this way at all, if it’s so convoluted. I have struggled to put it into words all this time, but with the pieces flying in my face from every direction, it’s hard to not try putting them together. I usually don’t game on Hard Mode like this, but something about Ouma compels me- whatever Kodaka’s intentions, I believe him when he says Danganronpa V3 is without end.

Thank you for reading!

#drv3 #kokichi ouma #monokuma V3 #V3's Theory of Vengeance #king horse twins #long long long!!#SERIOUSLY FUCKING LONG #LONGER THAN THE 'HORSE TWINS' ONE #I'm really trying to run down on everything necessary #but I'm losing track myself honestly #so uh. I hope this helps!?!#dr psychology #other dr #talent oppression

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compacflt · 10 months

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the thought of icemav celebrating christmas together makes me a bit crazy. what do they give each other???

usually nothing . That’s kind of a big deal. in the 80s/90s they’d (reluctantly) celebrate Christmas with carole and bradley (who took that shit kinda seriously) so they wouldn’t really do anything by themselves. Maybe go out for a nice clandestine dinner just cause. After Carole dies and Bradley’s papers get pulled from the academy, ice’s low key newfound interest in celebrating christmas is one of his many many ways to try and normalize relations between him & maverick and try to improve their relationship in the conspicuous absence of the rest of their family. but yes he does make an effort—as does mav—to take advantage of holiday time to be with him as often as possible so, though their schedules don’t always line up, after 2006 they spend about 3/4 xmases together

Ice has very few hobbies besides a.) lovingly working on his cars & plane and b.) reading, so he is exceptionally easy to shop for (as most hobbyless men are): nice tie pins, cufflinks, those unnecessarily expensive hardcover books about weird random topics you find in airport bookstores, fountain pens, nautical /aeronautical themed paperweights, nice leather watchbands etc. highbrow rich guy stuff

Maverick has sooooo many stupid little hobbies that each last between 4-6 months so he is ridiculously hard to shop for— “i thought you were into woodworking so i got you some tools :)!” “uh no that was in April. im trying to learn how to make wallets now” :( so mostly if ice ever gets him anything it’s usually just an expensive dinner date in the city or cash in a blank card or a blank signed check for airplane parts for the next year. Buy whatever you want idc <3

any and all gifts are given with extremely little fanfare PLEASE don’t make it a big deal… hidden around the house with a little “merry xmas!” note attached, or shoved into each others suitcases pre-leaving-for-navy-reasons, or unceremoniously dropped into one’s lap while he’s watching tv, “here you go,” “oh, this is nice, thanks!” Et cetera. love language of gifts/acts of service, but, like, very quietly.

#baby’s just making shit up now #in the mid-2010s they realize the potential of the hangar to have a >10ft xmas tree so that becomes a tradition late on in their rlnship #holy shit the ceiling is so high we could get like a 14fter in here #uhhh no my back will give out if we try to carry it in #etc etc #every place ice goes internationally he starts buying Xmas ornaments #daydreaming of Christmas with maverick #can’t wait can’t wait can’t wait :))))#pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #top gun #asks #ice & mav both have undiagnosed adhd this is a hc ive had for a full fucking year now #ice can read a 400 pg book in one sitting & mav has to take breaks every five minutes when he does taxes #or something #you guys ask me for headcanons and it’s usually just ‘imagine what two really repressed guys would do’ lol #but thanks for the ask!#even after they get married it’s still the opposite of a big deal #it’s just a little smth nice :) tokens of friendship/affection either way

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nyxhaven · 7 months

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A Forbidden Chapter (gale x tav)

Amidst the ancient tomes of Blackstaff Academy's library, a secret liaison unfolds between Gale Dekarios, a distinguished wizard, and Tav, his promising student. Their connection transcends the bounds of mentorship, weaving together passion and the pursuit of forbidden knowledge. As sparks fly and desires ignite, the clandestine affair leads them to the academy's restricted section, where the boundaries between magic and desire blur, and they delve into the mysteries of both their hearts and the arcane arts.

(SMUT 18+ MDNI teacher x student au, Tav is an adult (20) going to blackstaff academy)

(it’s a lana del ray type of vibe this time.)

Today, Gale had invited Tav, a promising new student, to assist in collecting rare tomes for extra credit. The decision to choose Tav had been fueled not just by their eagerness but also by the undeniable connection he felt with the young mage.

In the weeks leading up to this moment, Gale had noticed Tav's presence in his class, and he couldn't help but admire the way their eyes sparkled with curiosity. Tav's work had always stood out, their talents shining through, but it was their dedication to learning and the subtle smiles exchanged in class that had truly caught Gale's attention.

Gale, being a skilled and observant teacher, had praised Tav's progress subtly, giving them knowing looks during lectures that conveyed encouragement and a connection beyond the classroom. Today's invitation was an extension of his desire to foster that connection, to share not only knowledge but also an unspoken understanding that transcended the boundaries of teacher and student.

As they ventured deeper into the labyrinth of the library, Tav's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and affection. The unspoken tension had grown between them, and with each book they collected, Gale's admiration for Tav only deepened. It was a connection that felt like fate.

Tav, with youthful enthusiasm, climbed the ladder on the bookshelf reaching out far for a book. Stretching their arm out far to grab the spine of the book and slipping off, it was in that moment of near-fall that Gale's reflexes kicked in. With a swift, yet gentle motion, he reached out, his strong arms catching Tav just in time.

“If you wanted to get closer to me, Tav, I'd prefer a more direct approach,” Gale said softly.

Tav, caught in Gale's embrace, felt the solidness of those broad shoulders and the warmth of his presence. There was an unspoken intimacy in that fleeting connection, an unspoken promise of protection and guidance. Gale's steady grip conveyed not just physical support but also a sense of mentorship and trust.

Their eyes met, and in that brief, charged moment, the unspoken tension between them seemed to intensify. The library held its collective breath as if aware of the growing connection, and the exchange of more than just books hung heavily in the air.

“Thank you, Mr. Dekarios. I'll make sure to be more careful next time.”

With a mixture of longing and hesitation, Gale, being mindful of his role as a teacher, leaned in, his lips gently pressing against Tav's. His kiss held a world of unspoken emotions, pulling away, but before he could even finish apologizing quietly, Tav responded with a passionate kiss of their own. It was a confirmation of feelings that could no longer be contained, an affirmation of a connection that defied boundaries and rules.

In the quiet sanctuary of the library, with books as their silent witnesses, Gale and Tav shared a moment of profound connection, where their hearts and lips spoke a language only they understood. The unspoken bond between mentor and student had now transformed into something deeper, something they were both willing to explore.

The moment of shared intimacy in the library lingered, its allure drawing Gale and Tav closer. As they exchanged a knowing look, the desire for more knowledge tugged at their hearts, and they couldn't resist the forbidden allure of the academy's restricted section.

With a silent nod, Gale, his robes trailing behind him, led the way toward a hidden door at the far end of the library. The door was adorned with intricate sigils, ancient warding runes meant to deter curious students, but Gale's expertise allowed him to bypass these protections with ease.

Tav followed, their pulse quickening, a sense of exhilaration coursing through them. The door creaked open, revealing a passage that led deeper into the heart of the restricted section. The air in this hidden chamber was heavy with the weight of forbidden knowledge, and the shelves were lined with tomes that held secrets too dangerous for the average mage.

As they ventured further into this clandestine world of forgotten spells and dark rituals, Gale's hand brushed against Tav's, sending a shiver down their spine. It was a fleeting touch, but it carried the promise of something more profound.

Tav couldn't help but steal glances at Gale, admiring the grace with which he navigated the labyrinthine shelves, and the wisdom that radiated from him. With each stolen glance, the bond between them deepened, and the knowledge they were seeking seemed to pale in comparison to the connection they were forging.

In the restricted section, where the boundaries of morality and the allure of the arcane blurred, Gale and Tav were on the brink of discovering not only hidden spells but also the mysteries of their own hearts.

Deep within the labyrinthine depths of the restricted section, Gale and Tav ventured further into the heart of the arcane secrets. The dim light and the heavy atmosphere seemed to heighten their connection, the desire for forbidden knowledge entwined with their growing attraction. The tunnels of books opened up to a large common area, similar to the main Blackstaff library, just not lit up and with no windows. Gale snaps his fingers, and the candles, chandeliers, and large fireplace ignited with flames, illuminating the walls of ancient forgotten books surrounding them. A large couch and plush rug appeared by the fireplace.

Gale took Tav's hands into his, rubbing small circles on Tav's knuckles. “Is this okay? Say it now; we'll leave, and you'll never see me anymore.”

“I don't know what I want; I just know that this feels right.”

Tav’s heart raced as Gale pulled them close, his touch now more urgent and passionate. Their lips met in a kiss that was deeper and more fervent than before, reflecting their shared hunger for more than just knowledge. Gale's fingers tangled in Tav's hair, and their bodies pressed together, entwined in the ancient magic that surrounded them.

As the kiss deepened, the boundaries between mentor and student blurred, and the allure of the forbidden merged with their longing for one another. Gale's hands explored Tav's body with a sense of familiarity, igniting a fire within them both. The silent library seemed to amplify the intensity of their connection, the hidden chamber now a sanctuary for their desires.

Gale pulled Tav down onto the plush rug with him, laying Tav on their back. He unbuttoned their robe, slowly pulling it off their shoulders. Placing kisses along Tav's collarbone, down the middle of their chest. Tav's breath hitched to Gale’s touch; noticing it, Gale pulled back. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything's fine; I've just never done anything like this before. I've kissed people.” Tav rambled, becoming flustered and nervous. They turned their face away from Gale's gaze. Feeling long fingers pull their jaw back to his face.

“That's just fine; I'll be sure to go slow, and if you wanna stop, just say so, darling.”

Tav's body relaxed; Gale's words comforted them. Tav leaned back into Gale, kissing him, needy, sloppy, youthfully excited. Gale's scruff rubbed Tav's soft skin as they deepened their kiss. Gale stood over Tav, his feet on both sides of their hips; he untied the waistband of his robe, slowly disrobing himself, leaving him in tight gray briefs, showing his large bulge. A gulp came from Tav's throat; Gale noticed the worry and anticipation on their face. Gale's finger beckoned Tav to lean up and come closer.

Tav's face at height with Gale's hips, they cupped the clothed bulge, kissing the cock over the cloth for a little bit before Gale's dick couldn't help it anymore and his head escaped the waistband of his briefs. Tav took the invitation to pull down his underwear; he helped by stepping out of them, kicking them away. Tav took the time to slip their robe off, remaining in their delicacies.

Grabbing the base of Gale's cock, Tav began to pump; a deep moan found its way to Gale's mouth. Knowing their doing good work, they continued to pump Gale's cock, kissing his crown and balls. Gale's breaths came quicker, grabbing a handful of Tav's hair to guide them to the places to kiss while they still stroked Gale. Kissing under his balls or the part where his dick meets his thighs.

Gale cupped the bottom of Tav's head, making them look up. “Last week, your essay on illusions needed some help to make up for the credit. Care to indulge in my lecture,” he said in a disciplinary voice. Tav let out a small nod, trying not to show the excitement of wetness coming from their core.

Gale leaned over, whispering into Tav's ear. “Go bend over that desk.”

Following the orders, Tav leaned over the desk, luckily, it's smoothed and polished. Gale sauntered over, extending his hand and muttering a small incantation; another arm extended, separating into a whole other Gale. Gale's illusion came around to Tav's face, kneeling down to their level; Gale came from behind Tav, palming Tav's ass, pulling off their undergarments. He spread them open, taking in the view of Tav bent over. “By the gods, looks like I won't be needing any grease with the mess you've already made.” Taking his finger, he rimmed your hole using your own slick while Gale's illusion kissed you before standing up, his cock at the height of Tav's lips. Tav took Gale's illusionary cock into their mouth. His illusion rocked their hips into Tav's mouth. Gale, meanwhile, slipped a finger into Tav, slowly stretching them before adding a second, hearing their moans muffled on the illusionary's dick. It pulled out, leaving strings of saliva dripping from Tav's lips. “How are we feeling so far, young scholar?” Gale said teasingly about Tav's love for knowledge and praise.

“Please… please, Mr. Dekarios, don’t stop.” Tav whimpered. Resuming, Gale's illusion went back to gagging Tav with their dick. Gale chuckled with eagerness. Knowing they had been stretched out, Gale brought the tip of his dick to Tav, teasing their hole. Finally, hitching his tip into them, he slid further in. Tav's moan was suffocated by Gale's double stuffing their mouth, only bringing their dick out here and there to let Tav moan loudly and breathe. Feeling Gale's length inside them; this was nothing Tav could have ever experienced. Gripping the back of the double's thighs for support while Gale held their hips, bucking into them. Reaching into Tav fully, Gale hit Tav's g-spot, letting off the first wave of intense pleasure throughout their body.

Gale felt Tav's knees buckle; he continued to thrust into them, sending the next wave of pleasure.

“Mr. Dekarios, I'm getting close,” Tav panted between breaths.

“Don’t hold back on me; show me what you're capable of doing,” he said, leaning in to Tav's ear. Dismissing his illusion, Tav's moans became louder, echoing through the shelves of the forgotten library. Tav couldn't hold back, succumbing to their orgasm, cumming. “Good now, let’s see if we can get you to do it again.”

Gale slowed his thrust, resetting his groove, fully pulling himself out then fully reinserting himself into Tav. Slowly he picked back up a solid rhythm, making Tav cum another time was easy. Reaching his own climax, Gale gripped Tav's hips; it most definitely would leave small bruising to remind Tav back in their dorms of what they did. Bucking his hips harder, chasing his release, Gale's moans slipped from his mouth, sloppy and unpolished, marked by a few curse words, pulling out and pumping his load onto the back of Tav. Sitting there for a second, both of them with heavy breathing, the only thing to be heard in the library.

Gale cleaned Tav off before they lay back on the couch by the fire, while Gale sat and read a book of some of his favorite poems, savoring this moment for just a little bit longer before having to return to the academy. Gale acted as if none of this happened in class; he still gave Tav the same look he did tonight in class to remind them of this day and how he hoped for more secret rendezvous.

#bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x gn!reader #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale baldurs gate 3 #gale bg3 #bg3 #bg3 companions

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sparkles-and-trash · 1 year

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I had two au’s for an old fandom that I worked on for years, one of them I built an entire world for, basically made them all into new characters, and I still have sooo much unpublished for both of them, like I barley posted 10% of what I had for either before I lost my nerve

Maybe one day I’ll actually write them into original works, who knows

I genuinly liked working in them so much, but using them for a different fandom would just be too weird at this point yanno?

#rip clandestine academy and [redacted] ily both sm #at least i got clandestine up and running #redacted just never really launched which is a shame #it was kinda great ngl #rambles #writing #old fandoms #writers #writers on tumblr #writers of the world #personal

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shepherds-of-haven · 2 months

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Just wanted to start off by saying that I love the whole concept of clandestine mage schools and how you implemented the Veiled Circle.

It actually reminds me a lot of the Flying University in 19th-century Poland, or the BIHE in modern-day Iran! Jumping through hoops in secrecy and risking everything for the sake of an education that would have been otherwise denied.

My question is about how much an internal academic structure that the Circle maintains after Red is recruited and brings them under the fold of the Shepherds. Do they still operate as a school? Offer classes? Take in new students? Etc.

Ah, thanks so much for sharing this with me, I'd never heard of the Flying University and the BIHE and I'm so glad you pointed me to them because they're FASCINATING! Reading about them is so badass, so thanks for teaching me about something new today!

And thanks for your question! This is touched upon a bit in the alpha build, especially if you talk to Red in Chapter 7, but the Circle pretty much maintains its academic structure, except without the need for a really active Archmage to oversee everything/pull things together/make all of the executive decisions (now that they have the larger umbrella of the Shepherds to oversee things and integrate the Circle into the Order, they don't really need Red to call the shots). A few months after the Circle joins, the Order institutes a training academy for recruits and cadets to go through their basic training before actually becoming enlisted officers. So the Circle's classes, curriculum, and instructors become a part of that academy, because any Mage recruits who join need to be trained in their powers and arcane knowledge to become efficient Shepherds, right? (This is the excuse that thwarts the Inquisitors, anyway.) So the Circle is still taking in new students and even adding new instructors now that it can operate "publicly": you just have to join the Shepherds to receive that training, and you can even do continuing education courses even after you've technically graduated "the Academy" and become an officer, because continuing to build those skills is important! This isn't a super advertised thing, for obvious reasons--it's pretty much only discussed once you're deep into your enlistment and isn't explicitly like "hey all of your teachers are actually the remnants of an illegal Circle, so you'll be getting the best!"; they just send you to your classes--but in any case, the Circle is still there and thriving!

Hope that all makes sense!

#Shepherds of Haven #chapter 4 #spoilers #heavy #alpha build #alpha preview #the Veiled Circle #magic #worldbuilding #the order of the shepherds #order of the shepherds

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spicypepperjack · 10 months

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How about this:

Twins AU with Miles-1610 and Miles-42 (I’ll call him Gonzalo since that’s his middle name) as twins; Gwen-65 and Gwen-42 (I’ll call her Maxine since that’s her middle name) are also twins. Miles and Gwen are dating, and Gonzalo and Maxine are also dating.

Both pairs go to Visions Academy, and although each twin couple is friendly with each other, they are both rivals in some things, like couples dancing. For example, when their school has a salsa dance competition, they always try to one-up each other.

Each could have super alter-egos, with Miles as Spider-Man, Gonzalo as the Prowler, Gwen as Spider-Woman, and Maxine as Gwenom. This can lead into more tension if Miles and Gwen are your traditional Spider heroes, but Gonzalo and Maxine are clandestine anti-heroes. It’s possible that each twin knows each other’s identities if they were close, but they also could not know if they were distant with each other.

In terms of personalities, I’d think each would be like the following, with respect to the Spider-Verse canon:

- Miles: same as canon

- Gwen: same as canon

- Gonzalo: more in tune with his Spanish heritage, and has a darker, edgier personality compared to Miles

- Maxine: she’s rough around the edges; in terms of personality, she's pretty much Vi from Arcane because I say so

#across the spiderverse #gwen stacy #miles morales #ghostflower #gwiles #miles x gwen #spider gwen #atsv #gwen x miles #miles prowler #gwenom #twins au #miles earth 42 #gwen earth 42

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helix-studios117 · 3 months

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Halo Reloaded: Halsey & Life In The Spartan Program

It's been a minute since I did a simple discussion about things in my AU, so here we go.

Halsey, like in-canon, is a brilliant scientist with a vision for the human-race, but isn't terribly interested in directing said vision; UNLIKE in-canon, Halsey didn't kidnap any of the kids to join her program (and any time I've said 'kidnap,' or any variation thereof, in the any past posts, you can ignore), NOR is the Spartan-Program her idea. The original Orion-Project was created shortly after the start of the Human-Covenant War and fell through not long before the Spartan-II Program/Project Orion-II, which had been around before Halsey's involvement, saw production. Halsey was merely the right woman for the job, and whole idea is ONI's; specifically, Admiral Parangosky's.

Halsey had visited various Outer-Rim planets and discussed with the parents of her future students about the school that they'll be taken to. A real (if VERY clandestine) military-academy that seeks to train these kids into future heroes, NOT SOLDIERS, HEROES, that'll stop The Covenant from destroying humanity; and she eases the parents' minds by telling them that they can see their kids (via video-call, since physical visits are prohibited on the basis that the location of the school is top secret) at anytime they'd like AND their children won't immediately be sent out to war, as training is a long 8-year process (further helped that Halsey, despite being more morally up-right than her canon-self, doesn't feel too good about this herself). John Downes, later designated as John-117, was the only kid she took in that was from Eridanus-II; everyone else came from other planets like Madrigal, Harvest and Jericho. No Flash-Clones or any kidnapping needed!

Basically, it's Ender's Game, that's what this is. These kids weren't taken against their will; it's why all of my Spartans in this AU are so much more well-adjusted than in-canon.

#halo #halo fanfic #halo fanfiction #master chief fanfiction #master chief #master chief fanfic #john 117 #halo headcanon #halo au #Dr halsey #halo reloaded #ultimate universe #ultimate halo

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blurredcolour · 1 year

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If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part Five

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: A newly single, and rather intoxicated, Austin lets slip his real thoughts about you, his darling Betty.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Language, Residual Reader Injury, Alcohol Consumption, More Parties, More Awards Ceremonies, More Screenings, Michelle Yeoh Is an Amazing Human, Threats of Violence, Ongoing Stalker/Obsession Issues, Mature/Explicit Themes [described oral – f receiving, described face sitting, overheard masturbation – m performing, imagined manual stimulation – f receiving] – 18+ Only.

Credit: Greg Williams

Word Count: 4147

As the cabin light dimmed on the aircraft, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, you tried to shift subtly as the ache awakened in the muscles of your back. The flight attendants had just cleared away dinner and the passengers around you in first class were reclining their seats to settle in for some sleep while the plane continued its progress towards London. You glanced across the aisle between yourself and Austin, glad to see him sinking lower as he, too was preparing for rest.

He seemed a little less hollow, his face somewhat less gaunt, his eyes less swollen from a constant stream of tears. It had only been three days, but he appeared to have a better handle on his emotions, which you knew would be important for him to survive BAFTA weekend followed immediately by a screening in New York and another in Los Angeles. The close of the voting period for the Academy Awards, March 7, seemed years away at this point.

Only slightly closer than the end of this flight, if your back was going to continue to put up this much protest. Trey had applied a generous amount of topical analgesic before you’d left the house, which you’d also followed up with some oral painkillers. A glance at your watch revealed you still had thirty minutes before you could take another dose. Gritting your teeth, you pressed the recline button on your seat to lay it flat before turning to stretch out on your stomach and relieve the pressure on the throbbing points on your back.

Laying down with your face at the opening of your divider so you could keep an eye on Austin, you slid in one headphone, keeping the ear closest to him free, and put on something soothing to try and distract yourself until it you could take more medication.

“You keep frowning like that and you’ll get wrinkles.” Austin’s soft whisper, accompanied by tips of his fingers gently trying to ease the furrow in your brow, had your eyes flashing open to see him kneeling in front of you.

You snorted once and shook your head. “Wrinkles are the least of my worries…” You whispered back.

“You’re in pain aren’t you…” He frowned and you nodded slowly in reply.

“My next dose is soon; I’ll be ok then.”

“You have a cream, don’t you? Can I help?” He asked earnestly.

“I…” You hesitated, at war with yourself over the propriety of having your protectee rubbing cream into your back versus the relief you knew it would bring, before nodding slowly.

He leaned in closer to whisper directly into your ear. “I’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

The way his lips brush against the shell of your ear, and his warm breath cascaded over your skin, raised goosebumps and shivers in their wake – you knew immediately you had made the wrong decision. But he was already halfway down the aisle, sliding into the bathroom on the right side of the plane. You counted to thirty before pulling the cream from your carry-on and counted to another thirty before following, trying to look nonchalant about the clandestine rendezvous.

Opening the door slowly, he smiled warmly as your eyes met and you slid in, quickly shutting and locking the door behind you.

“I’m really sorry to ask this of you I…”

“Shh, Betty you’re in pain because of me.” His long fingers gently plucked the cream from your grasp, and he gestured with the other hand for you to turn around.

You were pleased that you’d opted for something comfortable in-flight and reached backed to pull the back of your workout shirt up and over your head, leaving your front covered. You heard him sigh softly as the now bluish marks were revealed to his eyes.

“It’s a good thing, they’re making their way through the rainbow…” You looked to him in the mirror and his eyes met yours skeptically before he opened the small tube of cream and gently worked a dollop onto the bruise on your shoulder.

You swallowed thickly at the heat of his touch on your skin, and the serious look on his face reflected in the mirror of the small bathroom. The hand holding your gathered shirt to your chest clenched into a fist as you watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips parted in concentration and you turned your head away from the mirror, the image of him accompanied by the electric feel of him touching you just too much to process as your heart hammered in your ears. He was thorough, ensuring that each of your bruises were well covered before he put the cap back on the cream and turned to wash his hands. You could not help but wonder if the sensation in his fingertips was at all affected.

As you struggled a little to redress yourself whilst also keeping your chest covered, you felt him grasp the bottom hem of your shirt to help you ease the fabric back onto your back without undoing all his hard work.

“Thank you…” You nodded softly and he squeezed your good shoulder before stepping back to let you return to your seat first.

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, smiling though you didn’t quite have the courage to meet his eyes lest he see the fact that you could still feel the ghost of his fingers on your skin, and calmly made your way back to your seat. You lay down, sliding in your one headphone, and waited quietly for him to resume his seat across the aisle from you. The brush of his fingertips across your cheek as he passed sent a shiver through your body and you swallowed thickly as you watched him settle into his seat.

After it was finally time for your next set of painkillers, you were able to doze lightly. You’d debated the need to be alert on flights with the entire team, and Austin, but you despite their arguments to the contrary, you still could not allow yourself to sleep deeply. Still felt the need to lay eyes on him every so often. You’d seen Red Eye, after all. He did not need a pen to the trachea on BAFTA weekend.

The lights slowly flickered on inside the cabin as only an hour remained in the flight and you watched Austin take his bag to the washroom to change before doing to same yourself, re-emerging in your typical dress and blazer, just in case the paparazzi were waiting at the airport.

Refreshingly, the arrivals longue was remarkably quiet this time, and you were greeted by only the domestic security team and escorted to the hotel suite. You were practically dragging your feet by the time you made it inside and turned to Austin to check if you could catch a real nap before the parties for the nominees that night.

“Betty, go to bed.” He smirked before you could even open your mouth. “The lads will look after me, we’ve got five hours before wardrobe comes.”

You somehow managed a nod and shuffled into your bedroom, stripping your clothes, before falling into the sultry embrace of 1200 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets. The alarm you’d somehow managed to set before succumbing to the nothingness of sleep was a rude and bewildering experience. You cast your eyes about the unfamiliar, dimly lit room, barely able to comprehend where you were before you heard Austin laughing warmly through the wall and it all came rushing back. You hauled yourself from the bed and dug out your outfit for the evening, using the small handheld steamer from the closet to release the wrinkles of the long-haul flight, before showering and dressing.

You emerged looking quite human, particularly in comparison to your earlier appearance, to a sitting room filled with people focused on perfecting Austin’s look for the evening. And perfect he did look in the charcoal grey pinstripe suit with a barely buttoned-up shirt the colour of a stormy sea. The way he glowed after undergoing the same travel conditions as you was utterly unfair but you chose not to dwell on it.

“There you are, darling Betty. Feeling better?” He grinned cheekily as a leggy brunette leaned in perhaps a little closer than necessary to perfect the curl of his hair.

“Yes, Mr. Butler, thank you very much for your concern.” You smiled professionally but your voice was tight – wound around the spike of jealousy jammed into the hollow of your throat. You coughed a little, trying to clear away whatever brought that unnecessary emotion on, and grabbed one of the sandwiches on the provided tray to fuel up for what promised to be a long evening.

Eventually, the cluster of attractive stylists were satisfied that the innately gorgeous man was presentable and filed out of the suite before the pair of you headed down to the waiting car.

“Did you actually get a good amount of sleep?” He asked quietly and you nodded with a soft smile.

“I did, yes. Thank you.” You replied earnestly, now that you were…mostly…alone.

He smiled at you warmly as he slid into the car and you took a slow breath before sliding in beside him, wondering why your heart was having trouble settling into its normal rhythm.

The cocktails at Claridge’s and the reception at the National Gallery we fairly standard events, with free-flowing alcohol and a crowd of gorgeous people all eager to congratulate Austin. The private club at 5 Hertford Street was rather unlike anything you had ever seen and teeming with people from wall the wall. Whether it was the sheer amount of humanity, or the time change, you found the entire setting exhausting. Or perhaps it was the mariachi band playing at the front door. Regardless, you dug deep and straightened your protesting back, following Austin into the throng of revellers and down the stairs to a dimly lit room where he was seated for dinner. You found an out-of-the-way place to stand with the other ‘staff’ in attendance and allowed yourself glances around the moody, Parisian atmosphere of the basement nightclub.

The most striking feature was the bust of a kneeling giraffe in the crook on the staircase that had brought you down here, and you barely managed to restrain the urge to shake your head. Truly, this assignment was leading you to the most unexpected of places. After the last course was served, people began to mill about, exploring the various sitting and drawing rooms on the upper floors. You followed Austin quietly, acutely aware of the number of photographers freely milling about in the crowd and doing your utmost to remain out of frame of their shots.

It was becoming increasingly apparent that, in addition to a roaring fire in nearly every room, the club had also turned up the heat to ensure the ladies in their evening wear were comfortable. You, in your blazer, found yourself unbearably hot and stepped into a hallway to slip off your jacket for just a brief moment of respite. You knew the cap sleeves of your dress ensured your back was full covered but immediately felt self-conscious about your arms.

It was at that moment when Michelle Yeoh and her partner Jean Todt were making their way down the hall. You pressed back against the wall, mindful of the framed pictures, but trying to occupy as little space as possible. However, instead of continuing on her way, as most people did around you, she stopped and turned, fixing you with a warm smile.

“You work with Mr. Butler, don’t you…” She asked warmly and you nodded quickly, introducing yourself properly.

“A pleasure to meet you, formally. I’ve been meaning to tell you; your strength and your beauty are not mutually exclusive. That they exist together is a miracle. Take up that space, you beautiful girl.” She beamed at you, squeezing your arm before continuing on her way.

Staring after her, struck utterly speechless, the laughter and chatter of the party blended into a dull hum as your mouth went dry – you wished you could say you at least thanked her for being such a positive influence in your life. In reality, your mouth had opened and closed several times like a slowly dying fish gasping for air until a shoulder bumped into you as someone made their way down the hall, jarring you back into the present.

You quickly glanced back into the room where you had left Austin and swore under your breath to see him vanished. Very professional of you, to get so distracted that you lost your protectee. You did a quick but calm perimeter of the room before heading through the doorway on the opposite end of it – at least somewhat confident he hadn’t passed you in the hallway you had been standing in. You were somewhat impressed by how much the club had emptied in the last thirty minutes or so, only running into a few groups of people before you reached the top of the stairs going down to the basement nightclub.

You paused a moment, glancing at the other hallways that branched from the top landing, trying to think like a tipsy, blonde, tanned, Californian, Adonis…but then you heard his voice, made husky from the glasses of whisky he’d been enjoying but still unmistakable to your ears, drifting up from below. You stepped down a few stairs before freezing at the words that he was speaking, barely audible above the thrum of the music below.

“Oh Betty…” followed by a sigh of a your real name, “the most incredible woman and she’s just so impossibly pretty…and I know I just ended a relationship, way too early for anything serious but I really…really just want her to crush my head like a grape with her muscular thighs while she sits on my face…”

You slapped one hand over your mouth to try and smother the gasp that fell from your numb lips while the other pressed ruthlessly against your chest to try and keep your heart seated beneath your ribs lest it leap right out of your body. The skin of your face and neck felt like it was on fire and you pressed your back against the wall of the staircase, still out of sight of the floor below, as you tried to remind yourself to breathe.

And yet he still kept talking…musing about how sweet you must taste between your thighs, and you were quite certain you might just expire in that stairwell of London’s most exclusive private club and simply add to its mystery and allure. You heard the floorboards creak to your right and snapped your eyes open to see one of the ubiquitous photo-journalists approaching and stiffened, protective instincts kicking in. Personal conundrum aside, you could not let a member of the media hear him go on like this…and going on he still was. You pushed yourself off the wall and let your steps fall heavily on the stairs as you hurried down to find that he’d been extoling on the supposed texture of your cunt to that fucking giraffe.

“Betty!” His face lit up as you came into view, and you raised both eyebrows as he was seeming even more jovial than the last time you’d seen him. “I made a friend!” He reached up to playfully scritch the giraffe’s chin just as the flash went off on the camera.

“I can see that, well done.” You nodded patiently, sliding your jacket back on, feeling the need for a little armor after his words had essentially lain you bare. “What are your thoughts on calling it a night?”

“That, Betty…That is not a bad idea.” He emphasized each word with a shake of his finger, and you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent a grin, not wanting to encourage him one bit. No matter how endearing a drunk he was.

He posed for one last shot before you carefully corralled him up the stairs and out to the waiting car. He lay his head against the window and immediately began dozing as the driver took you back to the hotel, making you shake your head fondly…and yet you were remained most keenly aware of the words you had overheard him speaking to his new ‘friend.’

Mercifully, he awoke when the car pulled up at the hotel and made his way up to the suite under his own steam. You wished one another a good night, even though it was most certainly morning even in London, and retired to your respective rooms.

When you awoke in the silent dark just an hour later, you were disoriented and confused. You stayed very still, holding your breath and listening so intently that your ears began to ring faintly, determined to figure out what had woken you up. The rich moan that carried through the wall made you jump, seeming impossibly loud in your state of intense focus. It was quickly followed by a heavy sigh and rhythmic breathing. You jerked away from the wall, shifting to sit at the end of the bed, but your imagination was already betraying you with vivid pictures of those long fingers wrapped around what you just knew must be a generous cock.

A ragged groan carried through the wall and had you shooting to your feet, trying to shake the images from your head violently. You quickly dug through your bag for a pair of ear plugs and slid them in, immediately relaxing as the ambient sound around you faded instantly. You slid back into the bed, trying to settle into the sheets, but the damage had already been done. Your traitorous body wanted only to focus on speculating what it would feel like to have those wicked, elegant fingers caress your quickly dampening folds, only to be licked clean by his pretty pink tongue.

With a soft growl beneath your breath, you threw the duvet from your overheated body and yanked on your workout clothes, determined to channel this insistent energy into something much less problematic. You stepped out of your room and nodded to one of the locally hired guys, muttering something about jet lag before hurrying down to the hotel gym to run yourself into the ground. If you were too tired to be turned on, the problem would go away, right?

You were drenched in sweat, your legs aching fiercely, by the time your body surrendered the last spark of desire that first groan had awoken within you. The sun was also most definitely above the horizon, you noted, as you made you way back to the suite after showering in the gym facilities. Thankfully, you could snag a few hours of rest before red carpet prep began. When you slid out of bed later that afternoon, you winced at the quiver in your legs. You’d, perhaps, overdone it.

Massaging in some of that handy cream, you forced your complaining body through the process of dressing and getting ready, joining a similar scene to yesterday. Austin sat, glowing, the calm eye in a hurricane of preparatory activity around him.

“Hope you got some sleep, Betty, we’re not going to be back here until after breakfast tomorrow.” He teased gleefully and you laughed wryly, somehow managing not to reply honestly.

“Did my best, Mr. Butler.” You found some food and waited patiently again, smiling politely as his guest for the evening, Polly Bennett, arrived.

You rode up front with the driver as Austin and Polly chatted away happily in the back seat, collecting their personal items before they made their way down the red carpet. While Austin went on the win the BAFTA that night, your ability to act as though nothing was irrevocably changed between you two should have secured you several prestigious nominations, if not wins, in your own right. Through the nigh-on twelve hours of BAFTA festivities, including the numerous after-parties where an increasingly drunken Austin insisted on hand-feeding you the rich and rarified foods the attendees were served, you maintained a calm yet friendly professionalism.

Things became somewhat easier after the flight to New York as Ari met the pair of you at the airport. With your firearm and your partner, you felt much more grounded and almost as though you could leave the events of the party and the hotel suite back in London. Almost.

Mournfully, your mind continued to subject you to uninvited images – seductive flashes of naked flesh and faces contorted in ecstasy. Similar to intrusive thoughts, the more you tried not to think them, the more often your brain would conjure them up and trot them out before your consciousness.

Unlike most intrusive thoughts, however, these were not entirely unwanted. Inconvenient, yes. Unprofessional, absolutely. But there was no denying that they were born of a desire that had been solidified by Austin’s overhead words and deeds, and that made it even more difficult to stop them from plaguing you…because did you honestly want them to go away?

As you walked down the hotel hallway that Wednesday, it was quiet, save the exchange of conversation between Kate and Austin as they followed you to another set of interviews booked for the day.

“So, your dad arrives tomorrow?” She asked warmly.

“Yeah, he’s driving it all in one day, says he can make it in seven hours or something…” Austin chuckled fondly.

Pulling out the key card you’d accepted from the front desk clerk, you slid it through the card reader in the door handle, waiting for the small light to turn green before turning the knob to open the door. The first hint that something wasn’t quite right was the smell – putrid and sweet. It made you pause over the threshold and reach for the light switch, wanting to see better before you stepped fully into the room.

Coming around the corner, your eyes were immediately drawn to the vase of flowers with a bowl of fruit at the base on a small table under the window. As you moved closer, you realized that the flowers were dry and wilted, heads pointed towards the ground in surrender to death, and the fruit was in varying states of rot and decay – dark brown spots mixed with clouds of mold and gaping, juicy wounds crawling with maggots. There was an envelope addressed to Austin in suspiciously familiar handwriting slid between the vase and the bowl, with a knife plunged into the warped flesh of an orange to really drive home the point.

“I need a burger.” You said quickly and turned, locking your arm through Austin’s, hauling him from the room, right past Kate’s bewildered face.

The phrase was one that was so benign and born of a joke based on the In-N-Out Burger chain, that the door had almost fully closed behind you before she gasped and hurried out to follow. It had been weeks since the team had chosen the pass phrase for a quick exit, and you did not begrudge her the processing time whatsoever. Austin was silent and rigid at your side, matching you stride for stride as you retrieved your phone from your pocket, calling Ari.

“I need a burger. Back door please.” You left the call active but put the phone in your pocket again, wanting both hands free as you guided the group out the back stairwell to where Ari was just pulling up, ever watchful for threats. You were thankful that you’d taken the time to study the interior of the hotel and map the quickest, quietest exit.

The author of Austin’s threatening letters had been here – could still be here. And you wanted to give her the least amount of opportunity to enjoy her handy work.

Only once Austin was safely in the car did you end the call with Ari, climbing in yourself. As he pulled out to head back home, you heard Kate soothing Austin behind you as you called the detective to inform them that there was another letter and potential weapon left at a hotel room. As your call ended, you heard Kate begin one with the interviewers who were to have met with Austin in that room, your eyes automatically flicking up to the rear-view mirror only to be met with two very solemn and heartbroken blue eyes.

You frowned deeply as he looked crushed and exhausted from being constantly hunted, and guilt flooded you from head to toe as here you were allowing your imagination free rein to objectify the man while he was so obviously suffering.

“I’m sorry, Austin…” You murmured softly and he nodded gently, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips before he sank back into his seat. If only he really understood just what you were apologizing for.

Read Part Six

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Tag List: @littlewhiterose, @austinsvlrslut, @emrysdreams, @slowsweetlove, @xstrengthxinxtragedyx, @shelbygeek, @kingdomforapony, @artlover8992, @eliseinmemphis, @haydensith, @breadsquash, @chimchimjiminie16, @qxiva, @lilsiz

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #blurredcolour

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twinkleteaparty · 5 months

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Whispers of Shadows: A Capitol Love Lost

This is a short story. I just wanted to write something that I thought about when I was watching the movie. It has a sad ending, depending on how you view it. and all the pictures are from Pinterest.

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The opulent halls of the Academy for Capitol Youth buzzed with excitement as students in their crisp school uniforms mingled, their laughter echoing against the marble walls. Among them moved a figure that commanded attention — young Coriolanus Snow, the scion of a once-proud family fallen on hard times. His icy blue eyes and impeccably styled blonde hair belied the struggles hidden beneath the surface.

Enter Monica Crestwood, a vision of elegance and grace despite the standard school uniform. Her family's wealth dripped from every carefully chosen accessory, from the way she carried herself with poise to the sparkling kindness that set her apart from the Capitol's typically callous elite.

Monica and Coriolanus had been inseparable since they first crossed paths at the Academy. Bonded by a shared understanding of familial expectations and the pressures of societal standing, their connection deepened as they leaned on each other for support in the face of adversity.

Monica's compassion extended beyond the polished halls of the Academy, reaching into the very heart of the Snow family's struggles. She sought to bridge the gap between the Crestwoods and the Snows, understanding that Coriolanus's family was teetering on the precipice of ruin. Monica's parents, however, disapproved of her association with the Snows, deeming it a threat to their carefully cultivated image.

Despite the frosty reception from her family, Monica persevered in her efforts to help Coriolanus. She offered support in the form of clandestine financial aid, discreetly providing assistance to the Snows without her parents' knowledge. Her love for Coriolanus was unwavering, and she believed in a future where they could rise above the obstacles that threatened to tear them apart.

As the 10th Hunger Games approached, the Capitol was abuzz with anticipation. This year's tributes were selected, and among them was a girl named Lucy Gray, whose ethereal beauty and captivating presence had captured the attention of all. Coriolanus, tasked with mentoring Lucy Gray, found himself drawn to her in ways he couldn't comprehend.

Monica, sensing the shift in dynamics, struggled with a growing sense of unease. Coriolanus, engrossed in the world of the Hunger Games, became increasingly distant. The once inseparable couple found themselves on opposite sides of a growing chasm, their worlds spinning in different directions.

Amidst the lavish parties and glittering distractions of the Capitol, Monica grappled with the realization that she was losing Coriolanus to the allure of the Games. The once unbreakable bond they shared seemed fragile, as though the weight of the Hunger Games threatened to shatter the foundation of their love.

In the dimly lit corners of the Academy, Monica watched as Coriolanus and Lucy Gray's interactions deepened. The spark that ignited between them cast a shadow over Monica's heart, leaving her feeling abandoned and isolated. As the Games approached, Monica wrestled with the looming fear that she might lose not only Coriolanus but also the person she once knew him to be.

Little did she know that the coming days would test the limits of her love and loyalty, forcing her to confront the harsh realities of the Capitol's machinations and the unpredictable nature of the Hunger Games.

The Capitol's effervescent energy reached its peak as the Games commenced. Monica, adorned in the standard school uniform that all students wore, stood in the crowd, her eyes fixated on the arena. Coriolanus, now fully immersed in his role as a mentor, exuded a confidence that Monica had not seen before.

The tributes, including Lucy Gray, entered the arena, their faces a mix of fear and determination. Monica's heart pounded as she watched the spectacle unfold on the screens. The opulence of the Capitol contrasted sharply with the brutality of the Games, and Monica couldn't help but question the society that reveled in such a spectacle.

As the days passed, Monica's inner turmoil grew. The divide between her and Coriolanus widened, exacerbated by the Capitol's intoxicating influence. Late nights turned into early mornings as Monica grappled with her conflicting emotions, torn between loyalty to Coriolanus and an unsettling realization that the Games were changing him.

In the hushed corridors of the Academy, Monica overheard whispers of alliances and betrayals within the arena. The Games were a ruthless game of survival, and Coriolanus navigated its treacherous waters with a cunning that both impressed and frightened Monica. She wondered if the boy she fell in love with still existed beneath the layers of Capitol manipulation.

Monica's clandestine efforts to aid the Snow family faced new challenges as her own family intensified their disapproval. The Crestwoods, deeply entrenched in the Capitol's social hierarchy, couldn't fathom Monica's association with the Snows, especially given Coriolanus's role in the Hunger Games.

Despite the mounting pressures, Monica refused to abandon her convictions. She continued to support Coriolanus from the shadows, offering subtle gestures of encouragement that went unnoticed amidst the chaos of the Capitol's festivities. Yet, as the Games progressed, Monica couldn't escape the nagging feeling that her actions were a mere whisper against the roaring tide of Capitol politics.

The turning point came when Lucy Gray emerged as a formidable contender in the Games. Coriolanus's mentorship had molded her into a captivating and unpredictable force, capturing the hearts of Capitol citizens and sponsors alike. Monica, torn between her love for Coriolanus and a growing admiration for Lucy Gray's resilience, found herself at a crossroads.

The Capitol's opulent façade crumbled as Monica confronted the harsh reality of the Hunger Games. The Games weren't just a spectacle; they were a cruel reminder of the Capitol's power and the sacrifices made in the name of entertainment. Monica's internal struggle mirrored the external chaos of the arena, and she couldn't shake the feeling that the Capitol was playing a dangerous game with the lives of its youth.

As the climax of the Games approached, Monica's resolve solidified. She would confront Coriolanus, not as a victim of the Capitol's machinations but as a woman who refused to be a pawn in their deadly game. The once-burgeoning love between Monica and Coriolanus would face its ultimate test, and the outcome would ripple through the corridors of the Capitol, challenging the very foundations of their society.

------

The echoes of the Hunger Games had barely faded when the harsh reality of consequences descended upon Coriolanus Snow. The Capitol, unforgiving in its pursuit of perfection, discovered his illicit actions to save Lucy Gray. As the Capitol's judgment fell upon him, Coriolanus found himself stripped of privilege, his family disgraced, and his future hanging in the balance.

Monica, unaware of the extent of Coriolanus's transgressions, sought him out in the dimly lit corridors of the Academy. Her steps quickened as she approached him, her eyes revealing a mix of concern and determination.

"Coriolanus, we need to talk," Monica implored, her voice tinged with worry. "What's happening? Why are they punishing you?"

Coriolanus, his once-confident demeanor now replaced by a defeated slouch, sighed heavily. "Monica, it's over. The Capitol has no tolerance for failure.I cheated in the games. I've been assigned to be a Peacekeeper in a distant district."

Her eyes widened with disbelief. "No, there has to be something we can do. I'll talk to my parents, we'll find a way to fix this."

He shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Your parents won't help. They never believed in us. They saw me as a means to an end, a way to maintain their precious status. Now that I'm tainted, they'll wash their hands of me."

Monica's determination wavered as she reached out to touch his arm. "Coriolanus, we can face this together. I'll stand by you, no matter what. We'll find a way."

His icy gaze met hers, and for a moment, there was a flicker of gratitude. However, as the weight of his impending departure settled in, an unexpected venom seeped into his words. "Monica, let's not pretend. Our love was a convenience, a way for me to survive in the Capitol. I never loved you. It was always about the money, the stability you offered."

Monica recoiled, her eyes welling up with tears. "Coriolanus, how can you say that? We've been through so much together. I believed in us."

His tone turned cold, matching the frost in his eyes. "Belief won't change anything. I've found someone who truly understands me, who doesn't see me as a pawn in their game. Lucy Gray — she's the one I love."

Monica felt the ground crumble beneath her. "Lucy Gray? After everything we've been through, you're leaving me for her?"

Coriolanus, unmoved by her distress, continued, "I need to go where she is, I need to make sure she is alive. District 12, where Lucy is. It's time to embrace the reality of my feelings."

Monica, torn between disbelief and heartbreak, struggled to find words. As Coriolanus turned to walk away, the shattered pieces of their once-unbreakable bond lay scattered, lost in the harsh winds of change.

Monica, though battered by Coriolanus's cutting words, refused to let despair consume her. As he turned to leave, she reached out, her hand trembling, and gently caught hold of his arm. "Coriolanus, please," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned his expression a mixture of regret and determination. But before he could speak, Monica stepped into his arms, wrapping herself around him in a tight embrace. "It's okay," she whispered into his ear, her voice steady despite the quiver in her heart. "If this is where you need to be, then I'll support you. I'll love you from here, even if it hurts."

Coriolanus, taken aback by the unexpected gesture, hesitated for a moment. The cold exterior he had crafted began to crack as he felt the warmth of Monica's embrace. His icy resolve wavered, and for a fleeting moment, he questioned the choices he was making.

Monica continued, her voice filled with sincerity, "I promise to take care of Tigers and Grandma'am. I'll make sure they remember you. And I'll do my best to bring you back home, to us."

Coriolanus, conflicted and haunted by unspoken emotions, simply hugged her back. The weight of his actions hung heavily between them, but in that moment, the familiarity of their connection pushed through the turmoil. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, a silent acknowledgment of the love that lingered beneath the surface.

Monica, her eyes closed against the pain, whispered, "Be safe, Coriolanus. Find your happiness. I'll be waiting for you, no matter how long it takes."

As he reluctantly pulled away, their eyes met one last time. In that gaze, a complex tapestry of emotions unfolded — love, regret, and the unspoken truth that lingered between them. Coriolanus, unable to voice what his heart truly felt, simply nodded, acknowledging the sacrifice Monica was making for him.

With one last glance, he turned away, leaving Monica standing in the dimly lit corridor, a pillar of strength despite the ache in her heart. As Coriolanus ventured into the unknown, the memory of her unwavering support lingered, a beacon of hope in the shadows of uncertainty.

---- Time skip

The days that followed were a blur of anguish for Monica. The weight of Coriolanus's departure pressed heavily on her shoulders, but she refused to let it crush her spirit. Determination fueled her actions as she navigated the challenges of keeping her promise to him.

Monica faced the disapproval of her own family, who viewed Coriolanus's fall from grace as a stain on their reputation. Yet, she stood resolute, deflecting their judgment with a grace that belied the turmoil within her. Tigers and Grandma'am, Coriolanus's family, found solace in Monica's unwavering support, and together, they faced the whispers and sidelong glances of Capitol society.

In her quiet moments, Monica grappled with the truth Coriolanus had laid bare — that their love was not what she had believed it to be. The sting of his words lingered, a persistent ache in her heart. Yet, in the face of adversity, Monica discovered a strength within herself that she never knew existed.

As she navigated the intricacies of Capitol politics, Monica found herself drawn to the cause of the Districts, a stark contrast to the privileged life she had known. The injustice of the Hunger Games, the oppressive rule of the Capitol — it all became painfully clear to her. Determined to make a difference, Monica secretly aligned herself with those who sought change.

The Capitol's grip on her life loosened as Monica immersed herself in this clandestine world. She forged alliances with rebels, learning the art of subversion and rebellion. Monica, once the epitome of Capitol elegance, now moved in the shadows, a silent force working against the very system she was born into.

---

The dusty air of District 12 clung to Coriolanus as he navigated the unfamiliar streets, his steps heavy with the weight of his choices. Lucy Gray walked beside him, her presence offering a semblance of comfort in this strange, new world. Sejanus, their unlikely companion, observed the surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and unease.

In the dimly lit bar they entered, the crackling sound of an old television caught their attention. The screen flickered, revealing the unmistakable visage of Dr. Volumnia Gaul, the architect of Capitol cruelty, as she delivered a broadcast.

"As a reminder of the consequences of treachery," Dr. Gaul's voice echoed through the bar, "we present the traitor who dared defy the Capitol's authority."

The camera shifted, revealing a face both familiar and heart-wrenching. It was Monica, pale and beaten, her eyes hollow with despair. Coriolanus felt a sharp intake of breath as he stared at the small screen, unable to comprehend the depths of betrayal that had transpired.

Lucy Gray's hand found its way to his, gripping it in silent support. Sejanus, too, watched with a mix of horror and sympathy, realizing the impact of the Capitol's ruthlessness on those who dared question it.

Dr. Gaul continued, her voice devoid of remorse, "This traitor provided aid to the districts, undermining the Capitol's authority. Let this be a warning to all who dare to defy us."

Coriolanus, his heart heavy with guilt, could hardly bear to watch as Monica's beaten form became a pawn in the Capitol's ruthless game. The realization hit him with a force that eclipsed the power of any Games he had ever witnessed.

As the broadcast concluded, the bar fell into an uneasy silence. The trio exchanged glances, each grappling with the harsh truth of the Capitol's brutality. Coriolanus, torn between loyalty and self-preservation, felt a surge of conflicting emotions.

---- Big time skip

Years had passed since the traumatic events in District 12. The Capitol's grip on the districts had tightened, and Coriolanus Snow found himself entangled in the web of political intrigue and power struggles. The memories of Monica and the haunting broadcast had become a distant ache, buried beneath layers of duty and survival.

In the garden of the presidential mansion, where whispers of rebellion echoed in the rustling leaves, Coriolanus found himself in the unexpected company of Katniss Everdeen. The air hung heavy with the weight of unspoken truths as they discussed the Capitol's ruthless tactics, particularly the bombings that targeted innocent children.

As they exchanged somber words, Coriolanus couldn't help but notice a delicate necklace around Katniss's neck — a small, silver chain with a pendant that bore a striking resemblance to the one Monica used to wear. The realization sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't suppress the urgency in his voice as he asked, "Where did you get that necklace?"

Katniss, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, touched the pendant thoughtfully. "It was my grandma's. She gave it to me before she passed away."

Coriolanus, trying to conceal the turmoil within, couldn't shake the feeling that the necklace held a connection to Monica. He probed further, "Your grandma's? Did she ever mention where she got it?"

Katniss shook her head, her expression clouded with sadness. "No, she never said. It was just a simple keepsake she wanted me to have. Why do you ask?"

A sense of unease settled over Coriolanus as he grappled with the possibility that Monica might have suffered a fate worse than he could have imagined. He hesitated before speaking, "It just looks remarkably similar to one someone I knew used to wear. A dear friend from a long time ago."

Katniss studied him intently, her gaze penetrating the carefully constructed facade.

Coriolanus Snow, unable to shake the eerie similarity between Katniss's necklace and Monica's, took a deep breath before venturing further into the delicate topic. "Tell me more about your grandmother, Katniss. What was she like?"

Katniss's eyes softened with nostalgia as she spoke of her grandmother, a resilient woman who had endured the harsh realities of District 12. She shared stories of strength, survival, and the enduring spirit that had been passed down through generations.

Listening intently, Coriolanus couldn't help but feel a growing weight of recognition. The details Katniss provided about her grandmother painted a vivid picture, one that seemed to align with the Monica he once knew — the Monica who had disappeared without a trace.

As Katniss spoke, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Monica, like Coriolanus, had been cast into the unforgiving embrace of District 12 by her parents as a form of punishment. The once wealthy and privileged girl had found herself entwined in the gritty reality of the impoverished district.

Coriolanus, his heart pounding in his chest, felt a mix of emotions swirling within him. Monica had not only survived but had built a life in District 12 — a life that transcended the confines of her origins. The revelation brought a bittersweet sense of closure to the wounds of the past.

The necklace, once a symbol of loss, now carried the weight of a profound connection. Monica's legacy lived on in Katniss, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit even in the face of adversity.

A complex tapestry of emotions played across Coriolanus's face — relief, regret, and a tinge of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events. In that moment, he found a measure of solace in knowing that Monica had forged her own path, a path that led to the birth of a courageous young woman who stood before him.

As the conversation with Katniss unfolded, Coriolanus couldn't escape the realization that the Capitol's attempts to break them had instead given rise to something far more powerful — a legacy of strength and defiance that endured in the face of oppression.

The necklace, now an emblem of intertwined destinies, served as a silent reminder of the choices they had made and the paths they had walked. Coriolanus, standing on the precipice of history, found himself reevaluating his role in the unfolding drama of Panem. The shadows of Monica's disappearance, once haunting, now held the promise of a resilient spirit that refused to be extinguished.

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