#I thought chapter 3 was the seesaw

[quotethemenevervore]

NOTE: I DO NOT CODONE THE ACTIONS OF CERTAIN CCS IN MY CONTENT. THIS IS PURELY OF THE CHARACTERS, AND HAS ALWAYS BEEN PURELY ABOUT THE CHARACTERS.

So uh, I’m back-

Like a seesaw that only goes down, chapter 3

Content warnings: g/t, vore, scars, talks of violence and characters having anxiety

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“How come Techno doesn’t come see you when you’re big?”

It was an innocent question, one that Tommy didn’t think was going to be anything big. It had been a few weeks since the first time the blonde came to see Wilbur when he was big, and Phil tagged along when he could. But there was always one person missing, and finally, it bugged him enough to ask.

He expected ‘Oh, he just doesn’t feel like it’, or maybe even ‘He just doesn’t like being around someone bigger than he is’. So when he asked that, and Wilbur’s eyes immediately cast down and away, he was confused.

“It’s… a little complicated with him. It’s not that he hates me being a shifter, it’s just.. yea. It’s complicated.” It was not a fulfilling answer in the slightest, but Tommy felt bad for making Wilbur feel bad, so he dropped the subject and brought up something else.

~~~

“Dad?” It had been a little bit since he’d officially been adopted, and he surprised himself at how natural it felt to call the avian dad. It always got a smile out of the older as well, eyes softening as he turned to face the other. “Yea?” “Do you know why Techno doesn’t like hanging out with Wil when he’s big?” His face scrunched up slightly, but it was in confusion rather than sadness. “To be honest, no. Neither of them told me what happened when Techno went to go see him when he was big. All I know is that it was only one time, and he hasn’t gone back since. It could have been like your situation.” The younger hummed in thought. “Techno doesn’t seem like the type to cower away, though.” “I don’t think it’s cowering away. I think maybe it’s a mutual agreement, Wilbur’s never seem saddened by it. But I don’t really know.” “Alright. Thanks anyway.” “No problem, mate. I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready, okay?”

“Okay, thanks.” There was one more person he could ask.

~~~

“Techno?” The door was slightly ajar when he went upstairs, the piglin sitting in a chair in the corner of the room reading a book. He didn’t catch a glimpse of the title, but based on what he knew of the man, he could guess it was some kind of ancient history. “Heh?” Tommy didn’t ask permission to come in, Techno had already granted it to him a while back so long as he made his presence known first. Flopping down on the bed across from the pinkette, he watched him put his book aside.

“Got a question for you.” “Okay. What is it?” “Did something happen with you and Wil?” He caught the miniscule flinch that Techno immediately hid. “It’s just, like you’re the only one who doesn’t go see him when he’s big so I’m just wondering-“ “It’s nothing. We just don’t really get along when he’s big. He gets too handsy.” He added the end with a snort, but Tommy caught on to how he was avoiding eye contact. “I mean, yea. But is that it?” He tried to push, but it failed. “Yea. That’s pretty much it. We agreed on it.” His brow furrowed, and he tried to think of something else to ask, but Phil’s voice carried from downstairs announcing dinner, and that was the end of it.

~~~

Dinner was.. tense, to say the least. Well, to Tommy it felt tense. Everyone else seemed fine, even his brothers were in a good mood and chatting about random things. He just couldn’t figure out why his brothers wouldn’t see each other when Wil was in his bigger form. Anything he tried to conclude fell flat on its face, so he begrudgingly set it aside. Anything he could think of he could probably think about on a fuller stomach.

But it didn’t help. Nor did trying to distract himself with a game of kart racing (which Tommy absolutely won, and techno didn’t, and if he says he did he’s lying-) and even laying down it tried to consume his thoughts.He groaned into his pillow, reminding himself that if they didn’t want him to know, he wouldn’t know. He shouldn’t push it.

It would be bad to have to see Puffy so soon.

With that thought in mind, he shoved the entire question as far away as he could, and relaxed, thinking about former trips with Tubbo, and some of the past nights with his new family.

~ ~ ~

The next time Wilbur grew, Tommy wanted to feed a different curiosity.

Anatomy classes could only do so much, and if he had the ability to see inside a person’s body, why wouldn’t he take it? He got permission, got a waterproof flashlight, and Wilbur happily gulped him down the next time he shifted to his full height.

Tommy wasted no time upon settling in and turned on the flashlight, waving it around to look at his surroundings. It was.. kind of what he expected- pink, fleshy walls. There was barely a puddle under him, probably the saliva that came down with him. It wasn’t really anything shocking, but his curiosity was satisfied anyway. He moved to turn it off when something caught his attention.

A long, jagged line, so deep that the walls seemed to cave into it. It was about as long as Tommy’s forearm, but despite it being on the inside, he knew what it was.

A scar.

Running his light across that wall, he found a few more, totaling it up to about six or seven. Six or seven scars.

His silence must have gone on a little too long, because his surroundings collapsed on him. “Tommy? Are you okay?” His brother called out, worry in his tone. “Wilbur, what the fuck did you eat? You have scars.” He couldn’t see the giant’s face, but the muscles freezing around him told him more than it should have. “Wil? What happened?”

It was silent for a good minute or two, and Tommy grew more worried. He tried to think of anything and everything his brother could have eaten to get those nasty scars- did he try to save a wounded animal? Did it get scared and start attacking him? Was it a stranger to him, a camper in jeopardy like he had been those weeks ago?

“It’s.. it’s fine. I don’t think it’s anything to worry-“ “Nothing to worry about my ass, Wil.” He meant to say more, but a heavy sigh from the other jostled his surroundings and interrupted.

“I didn’t even know I had scars. I didn’t even think about that when..” another sigh, a heavy air of sadness to it, cut through the silence he unintentionally left behind. Tommy leaned against the closest wall to him, running his hand along the flesh closest to him in an attempt to be comforting.

Whatever had happened, it must have been bad.

Finally, the giant broke the silence.

“When I stored you, you freaked out. You panicked because you thought I’d actually eaten you, because you didn’t know about giant anatomy.” “Yes..?” Tommy drew out, trying to encourage him to continue while drawing his own conclusion.

Definitely a camper, then.

Wilbur took a moment, a shaky breath, and continued. “Well, you aren’t the only person I’d swallowed that didn’t know. And.. it was to protect him, so I had no time to explain anything to him. I didn't know he was armed,” “Oh, Wilbur-“ “It’s fine.” He tried to reassure. “But… that person was Techno. That’s.. that’s why he doesn’t come visit me at this size.”

What? He must have said it out loud, because Wilbur hummed in agreement. “I didn’t really want to say anything, because I know Techno doesn’t like talking about it-“ “But- Did he ever apologize? Does he know about this?” Tommy understood, of course- the fear that coursed through him the day he thought Wilbur was killing him was awful, and he could believe that if he had a weapon he’d probably had done some damage as well. But if Techno didn’t know the damage he’d caused-

“He doesn’t know. Honestly? I.. didn’t know it had scarred either. We talked about it when I was smaller, and we came to an agreement that he just didn’t feel.. comfortable being with me at this size. It’s not out of fear, I don’t think. But it only takes one bad experience to… ruin things.” Tommy sighed. “Am I really the only person who didn’t hold this against you?” “Phil.” “He’s your dad. Of course he wouldn’t hold it against you.” “Well, not after he learned, of course. But..” Wilbur hummed, cutting himself off.

“We should probably head back soon.” It was a distraction. Wilbur was trying to pull him from these thoughts. He shouldn’t let it happen so easily, but.. it did seem like bringing this up has struck a chord in the giant, and he really didn’t wanna upset him any further than he was.

It would be hell if Wilbur tried separating himself from the family again.

“Okay.” So he relaxed, and waited, and planned.

~ ~ ~

“We need to talk.” It was the last thing Techno expected to come out of his younger brother’s mouth, especially with such a serious tone to it. He already had a feeling what it was about, too. He’d just been with Wilbur the day before while the shifter was giant, meaning it was likely the conversation from before. He kept his book open, but turned his head to the other as the blonde walked further into the room and sat on the bed to be opposite of him. “Okay. What about?”

“About you lying.” “What did I lie about?” “Wilbur.” Techno sighed, a mix of unease and exasperation. “I don’t really want to talk about it.” “Wilbur wouldn’t talk about it either. And I’m willing to bet neither of you have talked to each other.” “Then how did you find out?” Anxiety began to grow in the piglin, a heavy weight gnawing at him from the inside. Techno was sure that Phil didn’t know, so unless Wilbur had said something about what happened that day, which the blonde had said he didn’t, then there was no way for Tommy to-

“He has scars.” The book dropped to his lap, his fears confirmed, but Tommy didn’t stop. “From when you attacked him. He has like six scars in him. And, look, I get it, okay? Fear does some crazy shit to you. But- you don’t even know what you did! And I know he said that you guys talked but-“

He was abruptly cut off by the piglin standing up so fast the book spilled to the floor and being out the door before it ever hit. “Wh- Tech-!” Before Tommy could even catch up to him, the door to Wilbur’s room slammed shut right in front of him. Worry gripped his heart in an icy fist, and he warred between himself whether he should try to eavesdrop or go to his room and hope they sort it out. A voice in the back of his head nastily told him he’d done enough already, so he ducked his head and slunk to his room, hoping that his brothers would be able to figure it out and be okay.

~ ~ ~

“Techno!?” Wilbur jumped at the sudden door slamming, whipping his head around to see the culprit. “You know I prefer my door-“ “When were you going to tell me you had scars?” The piglin’s face was dead serious, borderline angry, and he had to blink at the sudden whiplash he felt. “I- what?” “When I..” he cut himself off with a harsh breath, the anger morphing to appear more distressed. “I left scars. Were you just never going to say anything about it?” “Tech- I-“ “I know that you were trying to spare my feelings, because of the whole situation, but that seems pretty important for me to-“

“Techno, I didn’t know!” He cut the other off.

“..what?” “I only just found out about the scars yesterday. Tommy found them. I had no idea. I didn’t even think I was going to scar because of it.” He sighed. “And no, I’m not trying to spare your feelings. I saw how you looked at me when we were together that next time I shifted. You think I want to see that? I feel enough guilt as is. I just thought.. and you agreed..” Techno thought over his words, speaking them slowly. “I agreed to not see you because I didn’t want to upset you. I thought you were upset with me.” “I was never upset with you. I’ve only ever been upset with myself.” Before the piglin could even get a word out, eyes widening at the realization before him, Wilbur continued.

“I scared you, and I scared Phil.. I’ve scared Tommy twice now.. I.. I never wanted to be like this, Tech.” He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting the side of his head over them. He was still looking in the piglin’s direction, but it didn’t really seem like he was seeing anymore. He didn’t want to confront these feelings, that’s why he had hidden away from them when his brother had proposed they not see each other when he was big. But they were on full display now, and despite everything he couldn’t reel the words back in before they were put in the open before the Piglin. “I don’t like the idea that I’m hurting the people I love. I want to be able to make friends and have my family close without anyone being afraid, or worried about me. I just..” he blinked, and only then did he recognize the sting at his eyes as tears began to drip down his face.

He felt pathetic. He bet he looked pathetic then too, curled up in front of his brother like this. If it were up to him, he’d rather disappear. At least if he could disappear, it would be a better ability than growing to a freakishly-

The bed dipped beside him, and he looked up to find Techno wrapping an arm around him, forcing his body to move and his knees to drop back down. His head now rested on the piglin’s shoulder, with the other’s head resting on his own. Delicately, as if he were made of glass, one of his hands reached down and picked up the brunette’s. It was slowly lifted until his fingertips rested against what could only have been one of the piglin’s tusks.

“You’re not the only one, Wil.” He whispered, letting go of the other’s hand. “Those alone caused me lots of grief in school. Everybody looked at me like a monster.” Wilbur let his hand fall, but only low enough to wrap the arm around his brother’s shoulder and pull him closer to him. “I didn’t feel welcomed until Phil brought me here. By then, I was out of school, and it was only us two. I learned I wasn’t a monster, I was just as equal as he was. And then we found you, and.. I guess the lesson got lost somewhere.” The brunette wasn’t sure when his brother had returned the hug, but he sank further into it as he began tracing shapes against his back.

“You’re not a monster, Wilbur. You’re just trying to survive in a world meant for humans. And you’re doing a lot better than you think you are.” And that was the straw that broke down Wilbur’s resolve. He began sobbing into his brother’s shoulder, clutching onto the fabric of his shirt so tightly as if he were afraid he’d disappear. He wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed like that, Techno gently rocking him while he let all his emotions finally run their course. Every time he’d tried to say something through his hiccuping sobs, he was gently shushed, so he gave up. Eventually, he felt like there were no more tears to shed, but he hesitated, worried that once he’d let go he’d still lose his brother. He’d missed him since the incident, even if they were still close outside of him shifting. He wasn’t given a choice, a small whine escaping him when the pinkette pulled away.

“I’m just gonna change my shirt.” Wilbur looked down from his face to the large wet spot he’d left on the shoulder, and he winced. “‘M sorry..” “It’s fine. I’ll be back. Want me to send the gremlin in while I’m gone?” The brunette rubbed at his face, trying to get rid of the excess tears. “If you want to.”

Techno had not left the room until he opened the door and yelled for the teen, Tommy rushing out of his room. “What happened? Is-“ “Keep him company until I get back. I won’t be long.” The block of ice in his gut grew tenfold at the sentence, and he quickly entered the room as Techno went down the hall to his own room. It took one look at Wilbur for his heart to sink into the ice in his stomach, and he froze in the doorway.

But then Wilbur smiled through his tears, opened his arms as an invitation, and he breathed a slight sigh of relief and walked to the offered hug.

“Did everything work out?” “Yea. I think everything worked out.” He heaved out a breath, the ice quickly melting away from his veins as he pulled away from the hug. “Thank god. I dunno if I could handle you guys not talking about that.” “Well, I don’t think you should be telling people’s secrets.” Wilbur mused. “Well, I don’t think people should be keeping secrets. Especially not secrets like that.” The blonde stayed firm, crossing his arms over his chest. “But.. Do you think it’s okay now?” “I think we’ll be okay.” Techno was back in the room less than two minutes later, a new button up to replace the old one. “Do you own any other clothes, man?” “Yea? I prefer style.” He climbed back onto the bed, this time sitting up against the headboard. “I think that’s stupid.” “You think everything’s stupid, you gremlin child.”

Tommy huffed, clambering over Wilbur to get to Techno at the top of the bed. “I’m not a child! I’m a big man!” “So you are a gremlin, then?” “Wilbur!” “What? You didn’t deny it.” He shot back with a grin, bracing himself to catch the blonde as he launched himself at him. “Fuck off! I’m not a gremlin or a child!” A small tussle followed, Wilbur trying to get up to sit against the headboard with Techno and Tommy simply not letting him move. At some point, the brunette shot up around a foot or two and simply scooped the squirming teen in his arms, dropping him on the piglin and finally making it to the spot he desired.

The energy burnt out soon enough, and the blonde settled down sprawled across the other’s legs. Wilbur had shrunk back down to his human height, slumped back down against Techno’s shoulder. “‘M glad you guys talked it out.” Tommy mumbled. “I’m not glad you initiated the conversation like you did.” “Yea..” Wilbur sighed. “Sorry.” “Apology accepted, Toms.” “I’m sorry too, Techno.” The pinkette hummed questioningly. “I wish I’d had time to tell you you were safe that day.” “We’re past that, Wil. I don’t hold it against you.” “Still. I want to get it off my chest, at least.” “Then let me apologize too.” Wilbur looked up to the other from where he was curled against him, and Techno met his gaze fully. “I’m sorry for acting out like I did. And I’m sorry that I left scars in you.” An amused huff left the shifter, and he nodded. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I don’t feel them.” A small huff answered him, along with a pat to his head, and Wilbur leaned more into his side, letting his eyes fall shut as he relaxed in his brother’s embrace fully for the first time since the incident.

~ ~ ~

When Phil came home from grocery shopping, he’d called out to the boys so they’d come and help him. When none of them had, he couldn’t help the small twinge of worry, the nagging voice in his head that made him run upstairs. He’d only had to search one room, finding the trio knocked out on Wilbur’s bed. Techno was still practically sitting up, Wilbur curled up beside him and the youngest flopped overtop of them both. With a fond, and relieved sigh, he set the letter from the mailbox atop the brunette’s desk and shut the light off.

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

I have a lot of opinions on Shuichi Saihara as a protagonist like on one hand I really liked his arc and think he was a genuinely interesting character and on the other hand the twist in chapter 1 kneecapped a lot of what I thought made him a compelling detective character on top of playing into some sexist tropes but like who cares about that.

What I ACTUALLY want to talk about is the AMAZING energy this guy exudes. He has more eyeliner on than any scene kid from the early 2000's. He's as gaunt as a sheet of paper. He looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over. Probably because he canonically didn't eat breakfast before entering the killing game so somehow the murder teddy bear coliseum has actually IMPROVED his living habits.

Nearly every line of Saihara's dialogue in the Japanese dub makes him sound like he's 5 seconds away from bursting into tears. During some intense moments he does this sprite where he's supposed to be adjusting the brim of his hat in a cool way but after he ditches his hat it just looks like he's doing a really emo peace sign. His character arc is about realizing that he doesn't want to kill himself and the way he resolves the conflict at the end of the game is to turn to the audience and say "You guys all suck. We're going to kill ourselves."

In chapter 6, Shirogane literally says that the concept for his character was her going "Hey what if I made a detective who's just, like, the most pathetic. The most cripplingly depressed poor little meow meow in existence?" He isn't even a poor little meow meow at this point he's like. One of those blind orphans that get run over in those propaganda films from the 40's. He's like if Oliver Twist went through puberty.

All the protags yap a lot but all of Saihara's internal monologue in the Free Time Events makes him sound like a fucking Wattpad fic about getting sold to One Direction. He embodies Komaru Naegi's "uwu im just a normal teenage girl" schtick except unlike Komaru, he'd probably dislocate his ankle running from a Ball Monokuma. Babe at least Makoto Naegi is kind of an extrovert?

He's super smart and observant and when he genuinely makes the effort to investigate the school, he uncovers the mastermind's secret lair on like the second day. And the next time he makes the effort he figures out the mastermind's identity and all of her schemes. Every investigation he looks at the evidence and immediately makes 8 logical leaps and somehow figures out the seesaw zipline toilet paper murder of the week.

But between that he, like, alternates between curling up in a ball and sobbing in his room and curling up in a ball and sobbing in front of Momota and Harukawa so like, it takes him a while to get to it. Kirigiri was busting into boys' washrooms and sneaking into secret off-limits dorms and throwing herself down trash chutes. Meanwhile Saihara sees the girls' washroom and is like "Hhhhhhhh I can't go in there that's cooooooooties" and needs The Power Of Friendship to, like, push over rubble or smth.

Like, oh man, he's a great character and he does get marginally more confident but, like, I think this dude runs on nothing but coffee and anxiety. He probably doesn't get more than 3 hours of sleep a night between Momota's midnight hangouts and whatever the hell the love hotels and the Monokuma theatres are all about. Say what you want about his role in the game but he's definitely a unique protagonist because I didn't think someone like him could narrate for a chapter without having a seizure. He looks like he has tuberculosis. MORE than the guy in the game who actually has tuberculosis.

[lavendercrow136]

I swear to you, to those who have been tuning into my fanfics I will love you through it all , and Tell me this isn't goodbye love, I did not forget about you. I've been extremely busy with work, to the point of an encroaching burn out.

I'm literally exhausted all of the time, and deal with an almost daily dosage of stress that's not healthy but there's not much I can do to change it because it's part of the job.

Not only am I just so tired, but my body says we're in pain, and we would like to not move around for a while.

Socially I am just nonexistent, I have friends I have not seen or hung out with in weeks and luckily I let them know what's going on and their okay with it and understand but people can only be patient for so long.

Mental health wise is a bit of a seesaw of anxiety and depression, spiced up with insomnia and hyper-insomblance, and goblin energy.

So I guess what I'm saying is I apologize for the delay on new content, and I hope you will continue to bear with me and support me through this difficult time.

I'm hoping to be able to post new content for your viewing pleasure soon and then get back to posting content on a regular basis.

I will warn you it might be a bit before I actually get it on any sort of viewing platform, for your reading pleasure that is because I try to only ever post chapters when I'm proud of them. When I know their good, or at least think their good. AND then I post them and I hope that you all agree and enjoy.

In other news though I have not posted a new chapter for "I will love you through it all" in a hot minute I looked at my Kudos and hits today, 989 hits and 40 Kudos!! Thank you all so much for continuing to follow along and read my work, it means more then you even know, and gives me the little bit of a push I need to keep going.

I also really need to provide a large shout out to my fiance who has been putting up with my emotional ass with both support and love and patience, thank you so much baby, for loving me when it feels like the whole world around me is a hurricane trying to tear me apart you are my safe space, my home, my everything. You are the light house that keeps me from crashing into the rocks and sinking into the abyss of my own negative thoughts, I love you so much @propertyofmilfs 3 monthes till we're together again, the distance between us may be hard but my love you are entirely worth every second minute and hour of the wait, 3 monthes till I feel at home again and I have you in my arms. ❤️

ALSO this is SO Important, if anyone at all knows anyone who used to live in the USA that immigrated to the Netherlands, and is currently residing in the Netherlands, please help me get in contact with them. I'd like to be able to move to be with my fiancé but neither of us really know where to start and the websites are confusing. So if anyone has any information or knows anyone please please please help 🙏

Thank you for your patience, and as always I will update you when I have more news and chapters updates and teasers.

Love, lavendercrow136

@propertyofmilfs @barbarasstar @vii-v @o1iviac1aire @winterfireblond @larissaoftarthweems @weemssapphic @weemswife

[unethicallypleistocene]

for the character ask: queequeg (until YESTERDAY i thought his name was QUEERqueg lmao) aaaand [drumrolls please] denethor! *wink* would it really be me if i didn’t bring him into every convo? i know he’s not exactly ‘popular’ in this fandom (HA! biggest understatement ever) but i want to see what u think of my guy! :)

Thank you my dear friend! Excellent choices <3

Queequeg: How I feel about this character Quee(r)queg is my absolute favorite Moby Dick character. He's just so incredibly cool and it's really interesting to me that Melville managed to write such a fundamentally good character while also being very deeply racist about him (Melville writing Queequeg is a constant seesaw between surprisingly not-racist and really racist but THAT'S A DISCUSSION FOR ANOTHER POST). Melville and 1851 notwithstanding he's my gay harpooneer blorbo of all time!

All the people I ship romantically with this character Ishmael OF COURSE. I have a very vivid memory of reading the first chapters of Moby Dick for the very first time and annotating all their interactions with "HUH? GAY???" I was expecting homoerotic tension but wow it really surprised me. They're married in canon and they're the best whaling husbands I know.

My non-romantic OTP for this character The harpooneer crew! Daggoo and Tashtego. They don't interact THAT much in canon (we're too focused on Ahab Happenings while at sea) but I've got some headcanons about them and how they're all besties.

My unpopular opinion about this character I don't know if it's really unpopular per se, but engaging more with Queequeg's fanon side is definitely more comfortable for me. Obviously Moby Dick and race have a fraught relationship and it's definitely worth discussing, especially in the context of fandom. I just think it's nice to take a break from the discourse and appreciate what we as modern readers can like about these very old characters, and add to them in ways Melville couldn't.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. Spoilers for a 173 year old book but uh. He dies. It would be very nice if he didn't die haha. I think Queequeg and Ishmael should have made it back to shore together and went on to live in a cozy cottage somewhere warm and dry, never to return to sea. Maybe they start a whale-themed publishing business after the explosive success of Ishmael's book.

Denethor: How I feel about this character As you know I am extremely supportive of your Denethorposting and blorbofication. I think the best Denethor media I've consumed was this one series of fics mostly focused on Faramir and Boromir growing up together, but it had some really wonderful characterizations (citing my source: The Tragicomedy of the Children of the Other Húrin by Hwestalas). It had some really lovely Denethor/Finduilas one-shots too! (I've seen some fic recs for that pairing on your blog that I REALLY need to get around to reading) So overall I think he's a really interesting character and I love when his relationship with Finduilas is explored.

All the people I ship romantically with this character As previously stated, Finduilas of Dol Amroth!

My non-romantic OTP for this character Not totally sure! His relationships with his sons are definitely the most important in canon, so I love different interpretations and angles of how he feels about them.

My unpopular opinion about this character Movie Denethor is much-reviled (feels like Faramir's character assassination dialed up to 11) and while I think that evil tomato man logically works as a narrative device in a time-constrained storytelling medium, I honestly think with a bit of tweaking he could have served a more better role. PJ didn't even give him a chance, smh.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. Kind of wish Finduilas had stuck around long enough to be an actual character and play off of Denethor's. LOTR has enough dead moms, methinks.

[spontaneousglitterbees]

v3 ch3

For an ask game.

Ooh, I have a lot of thoughts on v3-3, full spoilers ahead.

Hard mode: Honestly? Contains some of my favorite individual moments in v3. I think there's a reason so many fics take place somewhere during v3-3: you have some intrigue in the student council v rest-of-the-class dynamic, a cast that's lost its most down-to-earth members that helped keep the group as a whole grounded (Kaede may as well have been the class rep; Rantaro, for as little as we see of him he has a knack for getting even the most unruly of the class to calm down; Kirumi was team-mom (with complexity therein, of course, but she deliberately took up the role); Ryoma had this cool-headed temperament that could probably have helped counterbalance some of the emotional highs later in the game) and the reality of their situation is undeniable. Plus, the fact that this chapter had the stones to give Kokichi a concussion and everything the complete lack of response to it means for/around him as a character. That's its own rant, man.

Also Spirit, Praise, and Beauty slaps tbh. I got used to playing videos at 1.5-2x speed, try it with this song it sorta goes from jam to bop imo.

Easy mode: so much missed potential. It’s not exactly a hot take I don’t like what they ultimately did with Kiyo, but v3-3’s single biggest issue for me (besides poor taste) is that it brings up genuinely interesting new territory and proceeds to squander it for shock value.

I’m not the first and won’t be the last to posit 3-3 should have been our first instance of two isolated culprits going off at the same time. I would've loved to see Kiyo survive as just a weird, suspicious but ultimately benign anthropologist, but see. Even with all things as they currently are, someone else killing Angie would have offered us more opportunity to develop the theme of the chapter: ways of coping with grief. (I also really like that this chapter has such a well-defined theme, even if I wish it delivered it differently; the concept offers a lot for character development, and to not commit to taking it is a shame.)

Like, v3-3 gets flack for Tenko's death being nonsensical, but I think it's actually very poignant for those same reasons! Only, unfortunately, a lot of the nuance is left to subtext. Tenko's death has next-to nothing to do with Tenko herself: Himiko almost became the medium, after all, and Kiyo eventually admits any girl besides Maki or Miu would suffice. Her death is all about the elaborate mechanism. It's alarmingly impersonal, tailored to be a chronic killer's magnum opus. How else does one come up with something like the seesaw effect? It's posturing. He was showing off. And Kiyo doesn't exactly have an incredibly macho persona like Kaito, or anything, but that exact kind of insecurity gone out of control resulting in violence against a girl? Is EXACTLY something Tenko would abhor. It adds insult to injury! And if Kiyo hadnt killed Angie incidentally, he'd have gotten away with it. They would have to live with him, and he would have to live with himself and a very visibly grieving Himiko. Holy shit the drama there.

Kiyo did not care about getting caught, at that point. He could probably have gotten away with just killing Angie, honestly, his game-persona was written to have done this sorta thing a lot and the leads weren't clear enough to pin him beyond doubt as culprit without the second crime... but that second crime was important to him. More important than fulfilling his sister's order, more important than seeing another day beyond the game. "It was stupid of him to do!" yes, full of hubris, and-or just not giving a fuck anymore. There's even a moment where he's talking to himself toward the end of the trial where 'sister' chastises him for getting greedy; he knows and does not care. Which becomes even more interesting with what we learn in chapter 6, if we can believe what we're told, and the kids are functionally fabricated before the game... making this probably a case where 'actor does not fit character', so to speak, and the distress and pressure of coercion probably felt real, to him. It's a huge can of worms, and we dwell on none of them. As far as 'chapter 3 breakdowns' go, again wish they didn't feel a need to have one every time, but Kiyos... reads really sad, to me, in a way the previous ones weren't. Minding the subtext of familial abuse and analyzing it, it's just... seriously harrowing. I just really wish DR gave things the gravitas they deserve instead of clocking the audience in the face with them between jokes and telling us to figure it out. 

But I've been talking about Kiyo, because the crimes of the chapter really are just about Kiyo. Angie, a character the narrative had been building up to for a chapter plus by that point, is in the wrong place at the wrong time thinking she could easily outwit potential culprits working at night by manipulating the class. Tenko volunteers for what turns out to be a glorified Saw trap (both cruel and ironic!) to spare Himiko the emotional turmoil of potentially not speaking to her late close friend, because Tenko cares so much and so deeply. They're mirrors of one another, in many ways, mind vs. heart, brain v. brawn, etc. through their talents and actions, and it is a damn shame to lose them this unceremoniously. 

BUT. Here's the hot take:

That should have been the point.

The narrative should have lingered, through its text, on the tragedy of these two bright girls being slain as an afterthought. Not just as sacrifices for Himiko's development, but as prime examples in how damn cruel the game really is. Angie and Tenko both had trajectories to fulfill, and they did not get to. We don't see the student council again, really; we should. We don't see active mourning (or even struggling not to) for the person who was always eager to lend a hand to everyone else (even the menaces, which was a much better pun than the official translation and significantly less grating) from anyone but Himiko. We don't even do that much with Kokichi calling out Himiko for only starting to visibly give a shit after Angie and Tenko were gone, an incredibly salient point they bring up and just. Don't dig very deep into?? Not that Himiko is an awful character or anything, but the opportunities.

Wish they'd been more tactful, but I honestly kinda like v3-3. 

If nothing else we still have seesaw memes, right?

[kaibutsushidousha]

Artbook data - Kokichi Ouma

Chapter 5 spoilers but frustratingly no chapter 6 spoilers.

Seiyuu’s comment: Hiro Shimono

As Ouma is an emotional rollercoaster of a character, he was very fun-yet-difficult to play. The impression I got from him is that he is really meek if you take away his strong wish to outwit everyone. At first I was worried he was going to be hated because he is the guy says the things no one wants to say, but I’m very happy to hear so many people find him interesting exactly because of that. Please keep a close eye on him!

Kodaka’s comment: The always sensational liar character

His name was made combining the grandious, big-sounding, mastermindish family name “Ouma”(king horse) with the very small-sounding given name “Kokichi”(small luck). His characterization was focused on duality and the name reflects that nature. The keyword on his initial design was simply “shota”, so we made him look like a cute and personable boy. However, we also wanted him to feel creepy, so we made his uniform as white as we could and gave his hair and scarf colors that contrast with this white. We thought of making him as aliar to add to the story’s main theme of lies and, speaking in Mafia terms, the double-agent role. And becaus of this, making him into a trickster stirring up the Trials was indispensable. Looking from this perspective, he would feel more in place as a Super High School Level Liar than a Supreme Leader. As he is the character who personifies this game’s central themes, I put more thought into him than into everyone else.

Besides, his design was popular when first revealed and he got a fanbase fitting of his part after the game was released. I have to thank Komatsuzaki, Ouma’s craziest sprites were completely his idea. “Crazy” is a word with lots of meanings, but Ouma’s case is completely different from Genocider Shou, Junko Enoshima or Nagito Komaeda. You could say his case is more of a line of thought taken to it’s logical conclusion. They’re not overdramatic expressions, they’re instead phisically impossible, or should I say, otherworldly expressions. I think their creepiness express his true nature to some extent. I had my second guesses about them as they are a little overblown and I thought this would be too much but I ultimately decided to keep them.

So far, the DanganRonpa series never had a character who just simply enjoyed the Trials, even if that was just a lie. That’s why we decided that for his final moments, we would have him naming himself as the ringleader and battle against the real ringleader. I managed to make chapter 5′s plot a seesaw back and forth of truths and lies, so I like it quite a lot. He’s not the kind of guy I would want to met in real life though.

Design notes:

Hairstyle: Moderately long black hair flowing to all directions, with the tips moving up and down. A hairstyle resulting of him playing with his hair. He seems not to care about his hair, but Ouma sometimes makes use of the shadows his bangs form to make himself look evil...

Scarf: Black and white spaces alternating exactly like a chessboard. The way its tones also contribute to his clown imagery make it a perfect fit for the incorrigible Ouma.

Buttons: Buttons, all of different colors. There a couple more hidden behind his scarf and it seems hard to close them all.

Ripped uniform: His eye-catching white uniform is in a misterious state, with the hem ripped and big parts of it are fixed with metal clips. The collar part is also completely gone. Is that the decadent fashion style of the evil supreme leaders?

Underwear: Ouma’s favorite pop underwear. He hides his playful heart and true fashion sense in a place no one can see. So vibrant colors hidden inside the black-and-white uniform.

Punk-style pants: An essential piece of punk fashion with bondage belts tied to both legs... Or so it seems, but that’s a lie, they are actually just fake belts sewed to thicker part of the thighs. It’s all about feeling fake here. Nishishi.

Slip-on shoes: Two-colored black and purple shoes that mixed simplicity with an expressive sense of fashion. Wearing 9/10 lenght pants and no socks is trending nowadays, you see. And of course, those shoes are very well polished by Toujou!

Favorite presents:

Electempest: A pop electro-water gun capable of continuously shooting water up to 10 meters for one entire minute. Undoubtly exciting for both grown adults or evil supreme leaders.

Hammock: Everyone’s favorite sleeping tool, the braided thing you hang between trees or pillars, famous for its relaxability. This should be able make Ouma feel like a child again and enjoy himself.

Hated present:

Oil for Robots: Oil used for robot construction, not maintenance. If he ever feels like doing Ki-bo the kind favor of helping his maintenance, it would be a problem to let him have that.

Key phrases:

The Supreme Leader Covered in Lies: As the supreme of an evil secret society that claims to have over 10 thousand members, Ouma was chosen as a Super High School Level talented student. Not unlike his claim of being evil, his speeches and action are always teasing and scaring his friends, plunging them in fear whenever they are feeling too confortable and overall messing around with them. Only someone as plastered in lies as Ouma could look at this killing game enforced by Monokuma with cruel rules like “only someone who commits a perfect crime can graduate” and call it “not boring”. He is heavily burdened with his suppposedly enormous organization that controls the mafia, politicians, businessmen and has underlings in the White House, the Kremlin, Wall Street, City of London and even Kabuto-chou. Does it make sense that he can laugh even when his is life is being threatened?!

Games Should Only Be Played on Hard Mode!?: Using the “Run” command is forbidden and “Continue”s even more. He wants his enemies to be as strong as they can and figure his way out solid lockdowns. Ouma talks about real through references to the videogames he’s been playing his whole life. He came up an original theory that enjoying the extreme thrill of cornering yourself with all exits sealed is the definition of fun. He thinks of even the killing game he has been forced into as life-threatening entertainment. That’s exactly why everyone assumes his line of thought is not just abiding by the told rules, but taking the most enjoyable outcome of outwiting both his friends and Monokuma alike... The nerves of steel necessary to constantly dismiss the abnormal situation with the simple catchphrase “It’s less boring this way” are what you need to play life on Hard Mode!

Lockpicking Victims: One of the few(?) non-lies that come out of Ouma’s mouth: his “evil supreme leader-ish” ability to pick locks. When his friends watch over his actions under the lens of suspicion, he proves the truth by picking a cilinder lock right in front of them. We know it’s an useful skill to have and not something a regular high-school student wouldn’t need, but don’t you think that suits a small-time criminal better than an evil supreme leader?! 

Main Quotes:

“Half of my lies are made out of kindness": The truth will not always spare all living beings from suffering. If you say some people were saved by lies, many will agree. But why does this sound so fishy when its by our matchless liar Ouma?! To completely decieve a person with sugar-coated words and short-lived joy is the truest form of terror... After pulling off many overblown lies just to tease, he’s gotta have a lot of nerve to go around saying half of them are kind!?

“Lies have infinite possibilities, you know?“: Ouma’s Trial method involves frequently toying with his friends with lies and driving the accused into dangerous corners. However, unlike the only one cruel truth, lies have infinite possibility, even ones that can save people. Ouma is an expert on this subject. Despite all his friends claiming that lying for no reason when their lifes are on the line is begging to be killed, some who enjoys the risk wouldn’t pull any punches. Is he serious about this? Is it bluff? The Super High School Level Supreme Leader cares not for such questions.

“Common sense, le sens commun, sentido comun, huh... I wonder who decides what gets to be common sense?“: Starting from the way he calls himself the supreme leader of an evil organization, Ouma is quite scenical when talking about his past deeds and crime plans. His stories are so away from common sense that even Akamatsu, the character defined by wanting to believe in everyone, is always taking him with a grain of salt. “I wonder if what you consider ‘right’ on your definition of ‘common sense’ is the same everyone else considers ‘right’?“, he says. Sounds legit but not when Ouma is the one saying it!? Akamatsu’s lack of patience for his drivel is so relatable.

Final comment: Lying is like breathing to Ouma and that makes him an extreme entertainer who pours all his energy into stirring up his friends. He is giving his all so that no day is ever boring!

[katnissmellarkkk]

I *DEMAND* part 3 of shattered pearl. I repeat. I *DEMAND*.

Hahahahaha omg. Well, I decided to legitimately dig through the archives of my writing drafts and found chapter three of the Peeta-Wasn’t-Hijacked fic. It’s been given like 1,000 different names on different sites. I’ve never loved any of them. And I don’t really think this is my best writing ngl. But I also figure ... why be so stingy, ya know? If I have an incomplete draft, that I probably won’t finish, why not post a little bit? Especially since I literally left everyone and their brother who were reading this fic on a cliffy for over a year.

With that said.... I wrote this part like ... 15 months ago? 14 ? 13 ? Something like that. And I haven’t edited it since so ... yeah! Here’s a small chunk of chapter three! 🥳🥳🥳 Hope it’s better than I remember it being!

But it’s lacking something and it’s only then I realize, what I’m searching for inside Gale’s mouth, is the spark that only Peeta’s ever ignited in me. I keep waiting in vain for the warmth that started in my stomach and then rose up and exploded in my chest, for the craving that no matter what I couldn’t manage to satisfy, for the thrilling, almost hysterical, tingly feeling, to overcome me and leave me lightheaded in a completely foreign way. A way that couldn’t be attributed to lack of oxygen.

But it never does. I pull back and wipe my mouth carelessly on my arm and sigh, already sensing Gale’s demeanor taking a nose dive at my lackluster reaction.

I’m not disappointed when I look to see his expression. His eyes are frustrated, his mouth is downturned, his eyebrows are pinched together. And I feel as bad as I knew I would. Because no matter what, I’m hurting someone I deeply care for.

But how I feel upon seeing Gale’s face isn’t even comparable to the amount of remorse that fills me, that overtakes my entire being, when I see Peeta standing in the doorway, having watched our entire exchange.

/

I yelled his name as he disappeared down the hall. I tried to rip out all the needles and wires connecting me to the machines and the stiff, sterilized bed but Gale used all his strength to push me down flat. I was overpowered and exhausted and my left side was screaming mercilessly, and I don’t even know what pain was the bruised lung and what pain was my hurt ribs and what pain was my heart violently smashing into the pit of my stomach.

All I know is that if I had been able to reach Peeta before he evaporated, I have no clue what I would have said to him.

What I could have said to make it alright.

Gale tried to talk to me again after that but I entirely tuned him out, no longer caring if I wounded his feelings, or anyone else's for that matter.

It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how careful or cautious or preemptive I try to be, someone still got hurt in the end.

I wish I could just shut out the world, like I did during those first few weeks in Thirteen. Hide inside closets when I had a flashback. Shove myself into a minuscule crawl space with every nightmare. Refuse to speak to anyone who wasn't Gale or my family. Only eat when my mother nearly forced me. Show no remorse for how rude or how clinically insane I came across.

But now there was an agreement in place, an agreement I made to protect the victors—namely the one who just disappeared down the hall on me—and the people who had no voice on their own. The people who’s only chance was a half-crazed, shell-shocked, battle worn seventeen year old girl, who was just gunned down on national television.

Even if I wanted to retreat to some safe haven inside my head—if such a thing even existed for me—like Annie Cresta, I knew it could never happen.

For me, that wasn’t an option. If I don’t fulfill my duties to Coin, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and probably countless more people will suffer. The districts would undoubtably suffer. Gale would suffer. My mother and Prim would suffer.

I was proven right when later that same night Plutarch came to visit me again. I'd been lying on my side to avoid having to see Gale, who was still soldered to my bedside. My good side was thankfully opposite his seat.

When the Gamemaker spoke I thought I would be forced back to work. Forced to head back to the rebels and engage in their plans.

And I was resigned to it, well aware all along that I wouldn't be given the luxury of time to grieve the hurt I just caused Peeta. Or even the pain I knew I was inflicting upon Gale. The constant seesaw my heart was bouncing up and down on.

I was endlessly thankful that I was still pumped with morphling when Plutarch said that I was needed in Coin's office, because it heavily suppressed any real emotion I had brewing deep inside.

Morphling can cause you to let down your guard sometimes, make you say or do things you wouldn't otherwise or allow things to happen you'd ordinarily have the sense to stop. But it also causes all your severe emotions, all your heightened feelings, to dull as well. And for that, in light of everything that had just transpired, I was eternally grateful for.

When the doctor had removed all the needles from my arm, and I had been given a robe to go over my hospital gown—which, shockingly, was even uglier and thinner and itchier than the gowns they gave in the Capitol hospitals—Gale escorts me down the halls, through the corridors and to President Coin’s office.

I don’t speak to him the entire time. Looking at him makes my stomach churn with remorse and regret, though I’m not even sure who those feelings are directed towards. I’m not even sure how to articulate the way I feel right now.

And, as much as I try to force him out of my mind—as much as I do my best to rip him out from wherever he crawled beneath my skin and flooded into my veins—I inexplicably miss Peeta.

In more ways than I even know how to decipher. Even inside my own head.

I thought that feeling of longing would have ebbed away once he was rescued from Snow and his twisted mansion, but even knowing he’s safe here in Thirteen, I still crave his presence next to me.

I still want him next to me almost all the time.

It’s at least partially attributable to the fact that for so long, it was me and Peeta against the world. He has been my partner in this whirlwind rollercoaster since the first games and, even when I feel like every single aspect that could potentially go wrong has, sometimes it seems like I couldn’t have gotten luckier with who was chosen that fateful reaping to stand by my side the entire horrific ride.

I wipe my eyes as inconspicuously as I can but Gale sees and almost instinctively puts his hand on my shoulder. And proves he knows me better than I give him credit for. “I’ll talk to him, Katniss.”

“Don’t,” I immediately hiss. “You’ll just make it worse, Gale. He-he,” I struggle with explaining what I want to say and I curse my best friend for even addressing my moment of weakness because now I have to go talk to Coin, looking like an unstable mess—with a near bullet wound—and I blurt out the very first thing I can think of. “He doesn’t even know you, okay? You’ll just-“

There’s no malice in Gale’s voice as he softly replies, “Well, he was fine when I went and saw him before you woke up.”

I stop now, dead in my tracks. “You saw him? After I was shot?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I felt like should check on him. I know...” He pauses and looks upwards and I recognize, once again, this whole thing isn’t easy for him either. “I know he means a lot to you. And I heard what happened when he saw you go down. So I went and checked in on him...” He stops again before shrugging nonchalantly. “He was calmer by the time I saw him. He was nice. He’s always been nice.” At that Gale rolls his eyes. “Too nice. Probably why Snow wanted to hurt him.”

I start walking again, moving ahead of him a few paces. “You’re not helping,” I state, my voice a monotone.

“I’ll talk to him,” Gale offers again, running to catch up.

“Please don’t, okay? Just let it be. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me, I don’t want to have to worry about what you’ll say to him.”

I vigorously shake off his hand on my shoulder when he tries to comfort me again, and feel him root into place as I make the rest of the way to Coin’s office.

And I wonder if I hurt him now too.

I wonder if I managed to completely annihilate them both from me in one night.

/

Much to my surprise and, to be completely honest, my utter disappointment, Coin doesn’t want me to head back out and fight for the rebellion. She doesn’t want me to even film more propos.

Plutarch does, but his ideas now are pretty frivolous and have more to do with him being still stuck in the fantasy of putting on a good show and less to do with fighting for the good of the country.

Coin simply says, “You did your job, Miss Everdeen. You united the districts,” in her calm, disingenuous—completely unsettling—tone.

And argument I put up is met with a simple shake of the head and a pursing of her lips. All indisputable rejections, her cold, blank eyes telling me wordlessly that in no way could I sway her once her mind was made up.

Still doesn’t stop me from trying though.

“I want to help the rebels,” I plead, looking to Boggs behind Coin’s chair, his face still stoic but his eyes giving me a look that isn’t altogether dismissive.

That was something. It was more than I was getting from either Coin or Plutarch.

Coin though brushes off my words and cuts me down infuriatingly quick with a single sentence. “Plutarch wanted to see Peeta earlier, talk about some propos. But when he sent for him, one of the doctors working with Peeta said he wasn’t having a good day.”

Her tone is smooth and pleasant enough but there was an undercurrent to her words that she knew I would hear. “Do you know how Peeta is? I would have thought with your waking up this morning, he’d be in better shape than he was but if you two aren’t getting-“

“Me and Peeta are fine,” I snap, not liking whatever she’s implying.

She nods, slowly at me, choosing her next sentiment carefully. “Well, let’s hope so. We need both of you now to remain the faces of this revolution. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything rash because of... problems between you and your... between you and Peeta.”

I’m shaking my head, feigning certainty, before she even finishes. “That’s not why I want to help the rebels,” I insist firmly.

“Irregardless, Miss Everdeen, we don’t have a job for you. You aren’t qualified to go into the fight and we no longer need your propos to unite the districts. Your job is done. Thank you for your help.”

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m being definitively dismissed now. Indefinitely.

I don’t make any effort to keep my cool, instead choosing to storm out of the room, slamming the door cacophonously behind me and wonder why I let that woman get to me so much. Why her words and implications slice me open like a knife.

Why no matter how much I try, I just can’t like her.

Something about her rubs me the wrong way and, once again, I wish Peeta was here with me in the room, because he of all people could understand what about Coin felt off and strange and so familiar.

I curse myself again, as I suddenly miss him even more than before.

Unable to force myself to put my focus elsewhere—especially now that Gale is surely angry too—I change directions and head towards the recovery room.

I don’t even knock before entering. I push the door open, only to find him sitting on top of his bed, a sketchbook in hand, a lot more tranquil than I pictured.

He looks up as I enter—and then, simultaneously freeze in the doorway, like the coward I truly am inside. Before he can speak though, I blurt out, “I know you’re mad about me kissing Gale and I don’t know how much you saw or heard, but it wasn’t... it wasn’t exactly...” I stop because once again, I’m unprepared and out of my element and have no rhyme or reason in what I’m trying to say. I don’t know the right thing to say. I never know the right thing to say.

Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t screw always everything up. “It wasn’t,” I finally force myself to continue, off his patient and somewhat bewildered glance. “It wasn’t what I wanted... I didn’t want it to happen. I don’t, I don’t even know what-“

He finally puts me out of my misery now. “Katniss,” he speaks my name along with a sigh. I watch carefully, feeling a lump build in my throat, as his blonde brows furrow over his baby blues.

He shakes his head, slow and calm. Far more reasonable than I ever anticipated. “I’m not mad at you, Katniss,” he promises, with all the genuineness in the world.

I bite my lip, befuddled by his words. “But... where have you been then?” Why did you leave me? A small voice in the back of my mind demands.

He shrugs, his gaze falling down to his bed now. His demeanor is almost embarrassed, I realize with a start.

“I wanted to give you and Gale space. I’ve been practically mauling you since you woke up so I thought-“

“But I didn’t want you to leave,” I abruptly burst out, unable to shove the words down any longer.

A pang of embarrassment shoots through me though, for the pathetic crack, evident in my tone. And I mentally berate myself.

Not for the embarrassment. For the pathetic crack itself.

And for the fact that somehow I’m the frenzied one here and Peeta is the voice of reason.

Which used to be our norm but after everything that’s transpired, I would have thought things would be reversed by now.

He just stares at me for a long moment, carefully considering his next words.

Finally, he opens his arms slowly and utters, “Come here,” in a tender murmur and I practically fly into his arms before I can second guess the offer.

I feel my injured side screaming as I curl up like a ribbon in his arms, but I surpress the wince to the best of my ability and instead bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent like a mad girl.

He softly presses his lips to my messy locks, carefully massaging the back of my head soothingly. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he whispers, barely loud enough for even me to hear. “I was just embarrassed. I know—I’ve always known deep down—that it’s not right for me to constantly hold you to the things you said in the games. Or to project my own feelings onto you.”

“You didn’t,” I refute venomously, my brows knitting together.

“Katniss, I know you and Gale have had something between you for a long time.”

“Gale was just a friend until me and you came back from our first games. Maybe he wanted to be more even before, I don’t know, but I never felt anything romantic for him. I swear.”

“You don’t have to defend your feelings to me,” he states softly.

“I know, it’s just...” I sigh, moving to sit upright across his thighs. “No matter what I do, it’s wrong. If I say I’m confused, you’re both hurting. If I say I want to kiss you or sleep with you or just be with you, I’m leading you on because I can’t-I can’t make any promises about my feelings right now, because I don’t even know up from down anymore. And if I say I do or don’t want to kiss Gale or be around him or hunt with him still, I’m hurting him or giving him the wrong idea or telling him the wrong things, and it all gets confused and there’s an entire rebellion that I’m the face of, and now I don’t even know if I’m a part of that, but Snow and his followers all hate me still so I know family still won’t be safe until this is all over. And you. You and Johanna and Annie went through the ringer over me. And Gale gets upset whenever he sees us together—it hurts him to see us—but I can’t always seperate you two from one another and I just-I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Peeta lets me rant the whole entire spiel out, his hand slowly moving in circles to rub my back, from the top of my spine down to my backside. “Katniss,” he whispers once I’m done. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I get it. You’re under immense pressure. The last thing I want to do is make things harder on you.”

“You’re not,” I say, shaking my head insistently. “You’re not making anything worse, Peeta. It’s-it’s not you.”

“Okay,” he concedes and unconsciously wraps me up tighter in his arms. “Just relax, okay? Relax and breathe.”

I quiver and quake against him. “I don’t think I can.”

I barely realize I’m crying until Peeta leans down to kiss my tearstained cheek softly. “Katniss, it’s okay. I’m not mad. And Gale shouldn’t be. If he is, then that’s on him. The rebellion isn’t just your responsibility. Do not let them put all that weight on your shoulders. I know they already have but it’s not all your responsibility. And no one is going to let anything happen to your mom or sister.” He pushes my hair away from my forehead, pressing his lips there for a long moment. “Or you. I promise I will not let anything else happen to you.”

I swallow hard as he rests his forehead against my temple. I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that it will make my head stop spinning somehow. Deep breaths to center myself fail miserably and in the end, I feel my bruised ribs and lung disagree with the movement and ache worse than before.

Peeta feels me cringing against him in pain and remains careful as he shifts, reaching for something off his bedside table.

I’m in too much pain to react as pushes off my robe and tugs my hospital gown down in order to slide against my skin, his hand holding it firmly to my side.

The icy temperature brings some sort of relief to me almost instantly, and I let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling my rigid body relax even a minuscule amount for the first time.

“I don’t blame you for having feelings for Gale,” Peeta murmurs, drawing my attention back to our conversation and away from my painful left side. “And if you want to be with him, I won’t hold it against you. I’m not going to lie, I’d be ... sad but... it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be your friend. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be at jere for you however you needed me. There’s no ultimatums here, Katniss. I’m still here for you, even if you’d rather be with Gale.”

I pause for a long moment, absorbing his words. He’d be willing to be my friend, even if I hurt him? Even if I chose someone else over him? Even after everything we went through, even after all the ways he’d been abused because Snow could see how much I care for him? How much I need him. He’s still willing to put it all aside and be there for me, no strings attached.

And I try not to compare but my brain draws the conclusion almost involuntarily, and I can’t stop myself from realizing that, in the same position, Gale would likely not be telling me the same thing.

I burrow my face deeper in his shoulder, shutting my eyes in exhaustion.

Peeta catches me off-guard, moving my hair aside to kiss my neck, eliciting a flare of heat in the place where his lips brush my skin, and I may not know exactly how I feel, but I know in that moment exactly what I want right now.

“The only person I want to be with tonight is you,” I whisper honestly, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to somehow understand an emotion I don’t know how to admit. “The only person I want right now is you, Peeta.”

[teotalksaboutstuff]

How to GREATLY improve the plot of New Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony

I am shamelessly springboarding off of @xxaeris videos on why Kokichi’s writing is awful. In fact, most of my ideas here originated from them.

With that, we begin with swapping one talent. Kokichi Ouma, the secondary antagonist of this rewrite, shall become the Ultimate Lucky Student. The primary antagonist shall be Angie Yonaga. Per Aeris’ video, it makes the most logical sense for the characters as they are. Now begin the actual plot changes.

Chapter 2′s Culprit

Tsumugi Shirogane shall be the culprit instead Kirumi Toujo. What did the former do apart from be the mastermind, murder Rantarou and frame it on Kaede? Nothing important comes to mind. If Tsumugi were to be the culprit, she would at least be doing a bit more and then just be the mastermind from offscreen. Tsumugi’s execution would be similar to Kirumi’s canon one, but she falls into a pit where no one can see the bottom. Thus, it can be assumed she died, though it’s totally plausible she did not, as this has to be used as evidence later.

Chapter 3′s Subversions

You know how every Danganronpa 3rd case has to be a double murder? Not this one! Korekiyo kills Tenko with the seesaw trick during a seance to commune with Tsumugi. It’s as simple as that, no double murder fussiness. Admittedly this slows Himiko’s top-notch character development that made canon V3-3 not entirely rubbish, but some sacrifices must be made for a greater story here.

Chapter 4′s Successes

Miu is still going to do exactly what she did with the virtual world and plan to kill Kokichi. Except this time, she does so successfully. Aeris’ video claims that Miu’s breakdown would have all the best parts of Fuyuhiko’s and Mikan’s from SDR2, and I, frankly, would LOVE to see this. I imagine Miu’s execution being pretty sick as well. 

Chapter 5′s Boiling Point

At this point, Angie’s hold over the student body is a chokehold, and Kaito Momota, quite frankly, is sick of this. How are his classmates ever going to chase their hopes for the outside like this? This is his motive to murder Angie, and we are not doing that unsolvable murder thing. Himiko finally gets the second half of that character development that started in Chapter 3. The execution fails like in canon, and Kaito still gets to die on his own terms.

Chapter 6′s Reveal

The power of not four, not five, but six students is used to reveal the mastermind, who is still very much Tsumugi Shirogane. The trial still goes essentially how it went in canon, and Kiibo still destroys the academy in the end. However, my wishful thinking implores me to add one more detail: Kiibo’s AI still exist, and the body is in an entirely repairable state, if Kiibo himself is broken.

The New Survivor Roster

Shuichi Saihara

Himiko Yumeno

Maki Harukawa

Kirumi Toujo

Gonta Gokuhara

K1-B0

Final Thoughts

Everyone who survived V3 absolutely deserved to survive from a story perspective. However, the story could have been even better had Kokichi Ouma not been the entirety of the plot of Chapters 4 and 5, and more of the participants had been allowed to survive.

[anonymous-gremlin]

An au where Korekiyo didn't kill Tenko and got away with the murder. With a different mastermind and traitor.

Perspective of Shuichi because he has an ahoge. But the angst is a bit more other characters centric. Everyone has angst tho.

Definitely gonna write multiple parts. Part 3 of ?

Almost everything is the same with some changes until chap 3.

Tw blood, broken bones

Masterpost

Part 2 Part 4

----------------------------------------------

The execution begins

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No Seesaw (Part 3/?)

Aka if Kork got away with it

This was it. The end.

Four had died before them and now it was their turn.

Shuichi cried holding Kaito's hand as tighpossiblyt as he could so he wouldn't have to let go. A few tears rolled of Kaito's face. He tried to keep brave, Shuichi could see it. huichi cried holding Kaito's hand as tighpossiblyt as he could so he wouldn't have to let go. A few tears rolled of Kaito's face. He tried to keep brave, Shuichi could see it.

He saw Tsumugi and Maki hugging for one last time. He saw Tenko still looking at the ground not wanting to see the rest of the class. He saw Miu's eyes for a second linger on Tenko, seemingly wanting to go up to her. But then she grabbed Kokichi and messed his hair up, Kokichi sending her death glares but then laughing. Although they would bicker and insult eachother often, they were still great friends.

He saw Gonta look nervously around until he got pulled in a hug with Miu and Kokichi.

They were all saying goodbyes to eachother. He should probably do that too.

But before he could, the chains pulled them away out of the trial room. He tried holding Kaito's hand but quickly released it due to the pulling.

Shuichi trembeld from fear. Was this how Kaede and Kirumi had felt before?

Kaede....

Shuichi wished he could have solved the case correctly. She was innocent! Why didn't he check the garbage bag next to the library?! In it had been the shot-put ball with a pink fiber on it. Pink like Kaede's clothes. Had Tsumugi spoken up, Kaede wouldn't have died!

He woke up from his thoughts by hitting the ground. He had balled up his hands out of anger without relaizing. The chains had dropped him and the others inside the school. The building started to crack. It was storting in!

Shuichi saw the others around him.

"We are gonna die in here!" Miu panicked. "I'm too smart and sexy to die!"

The screen flickerd on showing a title card. "The last chapter"

Was that the execution's name?

Pieces roof started falling while the screen now showed Himiko, she was laughing. A bit behind her stood Tenko. The martial artist looked at the camera for a moment then quickly walked off screen to who knows where.

How could they make this killinggame?! Shuichi hated both of them. Killing his friends.

More pieces of rock and walls came crashing down.

"Help!" Kokichi yelled, his foot stuck under a piece of roof. Gonta was already trying to lift it up.

Shuichi started to help and together they lifted up Kokichi from under it. "Are you okay, Ouma?"

He nodded and tried to stand on it but immideatly fell down. "Gonta will cary Ouma" Gonta carefully picked him up. "Saihara needs to run too" Gonta said in a serious voice to Shuichi.

They started running but no matter where they ran, there was no escape. Rocks kept falling. They all had wounds.

The execution music that was playing all around the school kept getting louder. Shuichi couldn't even hear his own thoughts anymore and pressed his hands against his head to block out the music with little success.

Kiibo grabbed him by his shoulder and pulled him with him. "There should be a route out of the school here somewhere."

He followed him, the rest in tow.

"Almost there!" The robot yelled behind him. They avoided a few big pieces. Nearly getting hit, Kaito let out a scream. Shuichi looked behind him. "Go, don't stop running!"

They could almost smell the fresh air from outside. They could see it outside the long hallway they were running through. Almost free from the execution.

Kiibo first stepped outside, the rest following quickly. Kokichi was still carried by Gonta, who was bleeding above his eye and his glasses were missing. Kaito was holding his bleeding, probably broken arm. Miu had a limp and was leaning at Tsumugi who tried to support both Maki who was holding her stomach and Miu at the same time. They were all heavily injured but alive at least. They were still in the dome but they had survived the execution.

All was good. The school crashed further in and the halfbroken screen came on again.

"You thought it was done?" Himiko giggled

----------------------------------------------

Part 4 coming soon!

Notes:

Leave ideas in the comments

Also ships and stuff

I know the execution is not really good, I couldn't think of something else

[amachaheadcanons]

If they both survived or lasted longer through the killing game, how do you think will their relationship develop?

ヽ(゜∇゜)ノ o hyuuuuuuuuuuuuuss

If they both survived; making Shuichi, Rantaro and Tenko the survivors. I’d cry tears of joy. In this scenario, Shuichi makes Tenko accept the fact that men aren’t all bad (via her FTEs), using Rantaro as an example of genuinely good guys (which along with the thought of her master being male really kick-start her change in attitude towards males chapt 4+). It’d be slow since they’d be end game but a lot of small moments that make up their friendship. These guys would re-write the game’s story and becoming the new trio. With Tenko and Rantarou giving Shuichi the strength in the end to end DR, and Rantaro opening up to them about his perk and being able to use that to maybe end the game earlier? Haven’t given it much thought BUT!

If they lasted longer in game, however… {Cough, I’m looking at you, Taro} Oh-ho-ho…

This gets rambley…so it’s under the cut hehe~

 I would have loved a scene where Shuichi stumbles upon Tenko and Rantaro sparring in the courtyard or dojo, or even his dorm room…

Chapter 2.

The thought of Shuichi walking past Amami’s pixel icon and hearing heavy puffing and suspicious grunting from his dorm room would be the funniest thing in the game. Especially if he attempts to ignore the sounds and escape the dormitories just as the door bursts open with Rantaro dodging another move from Tenko.

I strongly believe physical conflict would ensue between these two because, 1, that’s how Tenko understands her opponent, and I feel like Rantarou’s adventure/survival instinct would kick in and he’d be the only person able to dodge/delay Tenko’s advances, making her {2} more infuriated and pursue a fair fight with him further and {3} grow to understand his character from wanting to challenge his strong resolve and claims of being the opposite of what Tenko assumes of him.

Chapter 3.

After this initial conflict between them, Shuichi would then encounter them sparring in her dojo. There’s tension in the air. It gets personal. Tenko learns just how much Rantaro blames himself for losing his sisters and in a moment of her bewilderment he pins her to the floor and wins the round. Tenko demands a rematch, he refused because it’s nighttime, but Tenko secretly makes plans to spar with him again. It’d be hinted in game whenever Shuuichi sought out Tenko alone mumbling to herself.

By their forth sparring session Tenko stops calling Rantaro a degenerate, it almost goes unnoticed. Thanks to Kokichi/Iruma’s acknowledgement.

When Tenko steps in to ease Himiko and be the victim to Kiyo’s seesaw, Rantaro insists he be the victim, his carefree attitude aiming to show Himiko it’s nothing to be scared over. Tenko refuses, they enter a back and forth that makes Himiko smile and takes the pressure off the séance, so she inaudibly agrees to Kiyo’s demands. When Himiko’s ready, Tenko promises she’ll be waiting for her on the other side with open arms!

Upon finding Himiko’s unmoving body, Tenko refuses to work with anyone. The trial gets emotional.

Chapter 4.

Following Himiko’s death and Korekiyo’s execution. Tenko shuts down. Locks herself in her room and dojo, but Shuichi stumbles upon Rantaro trying to talk some sense into her behind her dojo’s walls. Rantaro challenges her to another spar, and despite her refusal, he manages to get her to crawl out of her cave. During chapt 4 Tenko starts following Rantarou around since he’s a good support system and feels as though he’s the closet friend she has. Shuichi has the option to find them in the game room at nighttime, decks of cards spewed on the table, a half finished game of pool, as Rantaro was in the midst of brushing her hair on the couch as a movie played in the background. He was comforting her. It came naturally. From that night on, every few days Tenko would wear a new hairstyle, seemingly done by Rantaro. 

When Rantaro starts neglecting her, she finds Shuichi and asks for his help. They manage to corner him in the warehouse, he becomes very secretive. Tenko becomes offended. When Shuichi tries to talk to him, she pushes some foam mats together and readies an Aikido stance for when Rantaro tries to leave the room. She drags him onto the mats and declares a duel. If he wins, he’s free to leave and she won’t stop him. If she wins, he will be truthful. He shakes his head, muttering something like “I’m sorry Tenko, but I don’t have time for this.” her stubborn actions of dragging him onto the mats 3 times gets an aggravated grunt from him. He discards his shirt, the room swells with emotions. The battle is intense and painful to watch. In their haste, Tenko comes off the mat haphazardly, spraining something, she refuses to retreat. Thus, he does so for her. Exiting the room with an injured Tenko trailing after him and falling to the floor. Shuichi is by her side but Rantaro is no where to be seen. 

Kokichi makes a deal with Rantaro. They both want to end the killing game, they’re both growing impatient. Their plan’s elaborate and Kokichi manages to get Rantaro to set most of the pieces in motion while he motivates Miu to fix the mammoth computer. When performing the test run, there’s a malfunction, Rantarou dies because Ouma isn’t able to abort the test. He tried to save him. Rantaro dies by his own hands. Monokuma rules it off as suicide to throw everyone off. 

Shuichi needs to defend Ouma against an enraged Tenko. It breaks his heart knowing what he’s doing to her. 

Chapter 5.

Tenko comes to breakfast the next morning with everyone’s eyes on her. Her hair unevenly chopped off past her ears. It only served as a bitter reminder of their bond and the things his fingers could do woven threw her hair...

In her state of mourning, Iruma easily convinces Tenko to team up with her to take out Ouma. He’s too dangerous, too much of a wild card. Especially with the Exisals in his possession. Needless to say, they manage to override an exisal, shit ensues, yet Tenko actively seeks out the role of culprit to protect Miu at all costs. She has nothing else to live for expect the life of someone who could potentially change the world.

IDK there’s my 10 cents !

UGH i know it’s cliche but I could see this happening...though I really wanna hear people’s ideas for Tenko dying in the third chapter and Rantarou going awall trying to end the killing game and somehow surviving. With pinches of amacha in chapters 1 and 2 with Himiko running to him to save her from Tenko and acting like Himi’s big bro...yeah, i’d read that.

Thoughts?

[musedblues]

Born To Love You [Part: 3]

summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there's no telling if he even has a clue.

a/n: Forgive me for taking a while! Life has been properly wild. And I was taking my time with this story anyway, I really want each chapter to be special...  So I hope you lot dig this one! All the feedback and love continues to overflow my little old heart! 💖

w/c: 6k

Part 4

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

If you got to have it your way, you'd avoid going on set and gladly greet Gwilym every night and odd day off. But if Gwilym wouldn't take no for an answer, you did your best to hide out in his trailer, avoid suspicion and keep your fake husband happy all the same. But because Gwilym had made such fast friends of his co-stars, some invitations were unavoidable. When Ben called you both to join him and the others for lunch in some posh garden lodge, you slapped on a big grin and agreed.

The lodge was back behind a mess of trees, it's sign faded by the sun that shone down on the place like it was on display by the heavens. You followed behind Gwil on a gravel path. And before you could reach the steps that lead to the eatery, a voice called out from the opposite fork in the trail.

"Hey!" Ben's recognizable timbre echoed from behind a row of trees, as you whipped your head to see him waving from the bench of a weathered picnic table.

The rest of the cast had taken over a small jungle gym. Rami claimed the only swing, its rickety bubblegum poles threatening to uproot. Lucy and Joe were squealing on opposite ends of a seesaw. And when Joe noticed you and Gwilym had joined the picnic table across the way, he practically launched Lucy off of her end of the equipment in his hurry to come and greet you.

And there it was again; that look. The one Joe gave you when you met. The one that made your heart stir just thinking about it. If his gaze painted your daydrems, meeting his eyes in real time was spellbinding. This was why you stayed away. Because you couldn’t help but stare. 

Olive cackled in your arms as Lucy cursed Joe's name from the place she'd fallen in the mulch. All at once everyone passed around warm greetings, then hurried back to the play place, arguing over turns to help Olive down the slide like antsy siblings on the first day of recess.

"Alright, I invited you all here for the food! We can have fun later. I'm starving." Ben coxed, waving for everyone to follow him indoors at last. You had just beaten Rami at a rain worn hopscotch game painted on the path that led inside. He kept walking to follow Ben, and when you turned back, you spotted Joe lifting Olive up and pointing to a pair of sparrows settled on a branch near the play place.

The only thing that stopped you from melting into a puddle was catching Gwilym's eye. There was a smile behind his expression and a look in his gaze, a little like a warning, but more like a dare.

"Joe, I would ask if you want children one day but the answer seems pretty obvious." Lucy laughed on her saunter toward your side.

"You should really be asking Rami these kinds of questions, Lucy," Joe said, causing Gwilym to laugh hard. Lucy linked her arm with yours, leading you away from the scene and toward a steadier heartbeat, you hoped.

The lodge was made up of a couple of dozen miss-matched tables and chairs, occupied by a few other chilly looking patrons sipping warm drinks. There was even a small gift shop in the corner, where most of your crew scattered toward.

You followed Gwil to a cozy little table and left Olive in his lap while you took his order to the counter across the room. A sweet young girl with warm curls and the perfect smile was happy to hand you a couple of pastries and informed that someone would bring out the hot drinks you ordered. You thanked her and eased to rest across from Gwilym and your girl.

You mindlessly noshed on sweet blueberry bread when your drinks came but you failed to ignore when Joe flirted with the girl behind the pastry counter. Gwilym wasn't helping. He offered no distractions, or conversation as you listened in on Joe's sickening exchange with the girl who had just been as nice to you.

"A large vanilla frappe and a complimentary cinnamon muffin because you're so sweet." The freckle-faced girl giggled, repeating back his order with a special modification of her own.

Joe was genuinely thankful at the gesture, a treat from the universe. He lingered in front of the counter a little longer, but you had to block out the continued chat. Something like this seemed to happen every time you'd wound up near Joe.

You noticed when he got free muffins, favorite songs on the car radio, pennies on the sidewalk. He cradled these gifts and called them his own, because they were. And it was a precious sight to behold. You couldn't shake the wish splintered within you; that you might be one of those things he held onto so dearly.

"Hey!" Gwilym actually threw a raisin at you. It bounced from your brow onto the floor as you turned back in shock.

"Stop staring you look like a sad puppy," Gwilym warned through his teeth, holding Olive in his lap as she reached for the cup of tea he lifted to his lips.

You let out a sorry whine as a memory of your arrival at the top of this hill flashed across your mind. Joe's shimmering eyes locking onto yours while something electric buzzed through his glare. You slumped your head onto the marble tabletop and continued to pathetically groan like Tina from Bob's Burgers.

"Am I... interrupting something?" Joe's stupidly recognizable voice cut through your self-pity. You just lifted your head with a neutral smile.

He pulled up a seat from a mismatched table, setting his drink down. You reached for your own and leaned back, pretending to be preoccupied with your coffee. Joe cast a curious look to Gwilym who was sharing apple slices with his daughter.

"Must be nap time." Gwilym stretched a silly smile across his face looking to Joe.

"Ha ha." You mocked.

"You guys gotta try this muffin," Joe demanded.

You let out a hopeless chuckle while Gwilym shook his head at you with a sorry grin. It was such an unfunny, funny little predicament you found yourself in. Maybe laughing about it was good. Maybe you were getting through this...

"There's a bar upstairs!" Lucy chirped, skipping over to settle between Gwilym and Joe, bringing along a chair, it legs scraping on the hardwood. The other boys followed...

"And there's a band playing in an hour." The girl was making plans, casting big eyes to the boys who knew the question behind her statement. Lucy explained that Rami had already planned to sleep the rest of his weekend off and that she was desperate to have a little fun. Joe had plans with Ben, and Gwilym was exhausted, too. 

"I'll pay for our drinks and our ride back." Lucy turned her big sad eyes your way.

"You should stay! We can manage, just us two, done it before haven't we?" Gwilym spoke up, bouncing Olive in his lap. It was a sweet offer but the way he alluded to being on his own with Olive made your heart clench. It was almost like he wanted someone to find out you weren’t so often around each other. You noticed a look on Ben's face, pushed in brows at the sound of Gwilym's tone.

"Are you sure?" You asked, almost reminding him that you were supposed to be acting like you'd never spent a day without each other since your made up honeymoon.

"Yeah, of course," Gwyilm assured, softer now. And whatever worry had sprouted in you, was settled with the nod of Gwilym's head. You took note then of how he always knew just how to put you at ease, even if he hadn't realized he was the one who caused your apprehension.  

///

Upstairs was made up of fairy lights, a well stocked mini bar, a small stage where an old married couple sat strumming guitars, and very few audience members. And while you and Lucy did your best to clap after every song, you just wound up getting lost in conversation.

Lucy was on her third cocktail. You stuck to water after your second. And between drinks, you laughed over nothing in the way that made your heart ache with melancholy for the day moments like this were only memories.

When there was more ice in her drink than alcohol, Lucy started in on some monologue about life, and love, and Rami. She rambled about how she felt about him, and how she was sure he must have felt about her.

You had no doubt that they were close to perfect for each other. But Lucy headed into chattering about their first fight, and how petrified of losing him she was. How she wanted to shower Rami with love, but was afraid she wasn't good enough for the job.

"Did you feel that way with Gwil at first? How are things now, after so long together?" Lucy seemed to plead for her own clarity.

You let out a humorless chuckle. "Things with us have always been... complicated." You thought,  choosing your words carefully even in your happily buzzed state. Lucy kept her gaze zeroed in on you, waiting to hear more.

"Even now. We've never been better... or worse. All at once." You gave a shrug, and Lucy raised her brow in obvious surprise.

You and Gwil always talked about things before diving into them together. That changed when he missed the opportunity to take back his usually forgivable lie. But the talking stopped. Life with Gwyilm became uncomfortably familiar. You'd never shared so many wordless looks.

"Well, better is good, yeah?" Lucy gently suggested, more like she was hoping for herself.

"Yeah, I guess so." You decided, because that's all you could do. That seemed good enough for Lucy, as she sat up with a new speech in mind.

"I want the rest of this year, this time we all have together, to be nothing but fun." Lucy pointed, stringing her words a little closer together than anyone with a clearer head might have. The pretty girl rambled about how her sister was opening a gallery the first of the new year, and how she was inviting you and Gwil and neither of you could back out. Saying something about how if you all started the new year out together, then you'd be surreptitiously inclined to be the best of friends for the rest of all time.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself." Lucy giggled, grabbing onto your arm, shooting you a look that warned she was scheming. You grinned back, turning to face her all the way, setting your glass of water aside.

"Joe's birthday is soon and I'm planning something big. Something we can all do together, for him." Lucy declared. You felt every muscle in your face automatically reacting to pull your smile into a frown. But with every bit of sober strength you still had, you put on your best poker face and reached out for your drink you'd only just abandoned.

"What did you have in mind?" You asked, hoping you sounded more curious than cautious. Lucy burst into a laugh as you sipped your drink to keep from panicking out loud.

"I don't have a single clue yet." Lucy laughed with a sigh. "But it's going to be great."

///

As you sneaked back into your Airbnb you felt grateful for the night of fun with Lucy. It was the first time you'd been away from Gwil and Olive since this whole big thing started, and as the night went on you'd found yourself missing their usual constant presence. You'd get that in the morning, with a catch. Joe.

Gwilym had planned a big day out, buying tickets to the aquarium and talking about how excited he was to roam around for a day, no schedules or work to worry over. He'd invited Joe knowing the guy had no plans all weekend, no family nearby, nothing better to do.

When the morning came, and Gwil gushed over breakfast about what he was looking forward to the most, you let that be enough. You let Olive’s claps of the agreement be your fuel for gearing up to go out.

And when Joe knocked on your door wearing a withheld grin and a warm jumper, you stepped back to let him in, turning your eyes toward the carpet so he couldn't see you blush. Maybe he noticed though, because when you looked back up, Joe was still waiting to meet your gaze.

Gwilym was quick to greet his friend, ushering everyone out of the door Joe had only just entered. Today was going to be a good one, you told yourself so.

After parking the car, you watched Gwil wrestle to unfold a new stroller. Joe chuckled when his friend denied help, insisting he had to figure it out on his own. Eventually, he did, buckling Olive in triumphantly. The effort must have exhausted your fake husband because he made a b-line for a coffee shop around the corner while you and Joe took shots at poking fun at Gwil.

You stood guard next to Olive in her brand new ride while Gwilym raced to patiently wait in the long coffee shop line. Joe stood near you, debating on joining Gwil, but decided against ordering anything.

As you distracted yourself by checking your cell, you heard Gwilym's warm chuckle from across the room. The sound was familiar enough for you to gaze up curiously, finding the guy with his arms crossed, leaning closer to listen to some woman in line speak just to him.

Gwilym was kind to everyone, always keen to listen. Everyone loved Gwilym. And whether you were near or not, plenty of people had taken their shot at flirting with the handsome man. You were hardly phased in those cases and were usually quick to poke fun at his attempts to flirt back. But when the girl in front of Gwilym kept spinning in line to gaze up and bite her lip as he spoke, you rolled your eyes. When he reached out to nudge her to keep the line moving, a faint bout of resentment threatened to wash over you.

You quickly decided that it was because Gwilym had done such a marvelous job at testing your nerves this week, and the feelings you'd been trying to push away were looking for an excuse to creep back up. So you started to bring your phone closer to view, but then your eyes swept over Joe.

His gaze was unsettled, watching Gwilym shamelessly flirt back with the girl, even after she ordered her coffee and lingered too close while he ordered his.

"Uh..." Joe uttered, starting to look back at you with a troubled frown.

"It's okay." You quickly shut down whatever Joe might have wanted to say next. You hadn't expected him to accept this with a shrug, but you needed Joe to stop looking at you like he was. You realized that anything you might have said next would probably worsen things , so you just gave Joe a small shake of your head, silently asking him not to worry about it.

That's when Gwilym approached, seemingly clueless of the thin ice he'd just skated away from. You shot him a look on your way back outside and managed to shift into a comfortable chatter as you led the way toward the aquarium. So far the morning was just as awkward as you feared it might have been, and with that thought, you decided you could manage. You'd learned how to attach yourself to Gwil, and how to save your swooning for Joe when you were alone at the end of the day.

As you approached the aquarium, Gwilym's phone rang. He groaned when his agent's name flashed across the screen, excusing himself a few feet away to answer.

You settled onto a bench as Olive pointed toward your bag, babbling in a way you understood. You reached in and revealed a small stuffed elephant much to your daughter's delight. When you handed the thing to her, she held it right back up,

"Joe!" The kid caught your guest's attention as he sat next to you, taking the toy from Olive with overblown thanks.

"You sure you wanna spend your day entertaining her?" You asked Joe through a warning laugh. Now that she had his attention, she'd likely long to keep it that way.

"Gladly." Joe looked at you as he answered. Luckily, Olive called out his name again so you both had a reason to look away.

That's when you noticed Gwil approaching while his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"They want me and Ben to come in right bloody now." He huffed, gazing up to the entrance of the place he'd made big plans to spend the day exploring.

"For how long?" You wondered.

Gwilym didn't know, lulling his head back clearly at a loss. He had to go, but what about you? You couldn't just not take Olive in with the way you'd been promising her this adventure all week.

"I'll email you guys the tickets to get in... I'll try and meet back up soon. Unless you want a ride back with me, Joe..." Gwilym offered, knowing there was no reason the guy had to spend his afternoon with his best friend's fake wife.

"I'll stay..." Joe decided, but hesitantly. "If that's alright?" He looked at you, seeming to realize, or at least recognize for the first time, that this was strange.

You nodded to the man with fossils for eyes, and made a mental note to scold Gwilym later. After a rushed goodbye, Gwilym sulked off. You felt bad that he was suddenly called away, knowing how excited he had been for this day. But then there was Joe. He seemed happy. And you weren't about to take this sudden change of plans for granted, no matter how your guts twisted up on your walk inside, alone together.

///

Olive was purely enchanted by the sea life. Giant radiant fish glided above your heads in expansive tanks. It was like stepping into another dim, quiet world.

"Bird!" Olive pointed up to a slow-moving sting ray. You figured she'd like the aquarium based on her fascination with things with wings, but this wasn't exactly the same.

"No, fish." You corrected, pointing up.

"No, scary." Joe joked, pointing to a larger, more intimidating looking sea creature. Your eyes searched the plaque on the wall that told what types of fish swam through the tank you stood near.

"Oh my God, look." You laughed, stepping closer to the wall. "It's called a Guitarfish." You pointed to the display and looked back into the tank at the skinny, oddly shaped stingray that you now recognized as half-shark. Joe shared in your laughter and stepped closer to take a photo of the plaque.

"Thanks for inviting me to this death trap." Joe laughed, as you three eased into the shark exhibit. It was a bit jarring, surrounded by walls of water where ancient monsters floated just feet away from you.

"They're just dinosaurs, ya know?" You mused, setting Olive on her feet and watching her shuffle closer to the glass where a sand tiger shark floated right by her face. You noticed another plaque and spun toward Joe with a smile, pointing to the fish behind his back.

"That one's name is Bungle. See? Loveable and harmless."

"It says here you can swim with them," Joe smirked, stepping closer to read what you just had.

"Okay, well maybe that's taking it a little too far." You laughed.

"Why? They're harmless dinosaurs, right?" Joe chuckled. You watched Olive watching the sharks glide by as Joe spun off into a story about Jurassic Park. Families cruised through pointing and chatting as you stood against the wall, listening to the guy you'd been avoiding until now.

When Olive ran back toward you pair and reached her arms up to Joe, he scooped her up without missing a beat and kept on telling his story. You laughed and listened and let yourself become completely entranced by the daydream you were living.

This was it, you decided. As good as it gets. When today was over, you'd let yourself have it, and then you'd move on. No more yearning. No more hopeless gazes right in Joe's direction. This was it.

The turtles were a big hit, and you were personally taken with the octopus exhibit. But the room full of penguins obviously took the cake.

"These are birds!" You excitedly chirped, probably a little more excited than Olive about the scenario. She clapped her hands together, all the same, dashing toward the glass. You sat on the floor next to her and watched a group of penguins waddle toward where you sat. Olive waved and pointed and squealed accordingly. Even though you had to remind her to use her inside voice, you felt just as overjoyed that this experience was a win.

"We can leave if you'd like." You assured Joe when he appeared next to you after another family cleared the area.

"Absolutely not!" Joe demanded, sitting on the other side of Olive who was glued to the glass of the exhibit. "This is obviously our reward for making it out of the shark tank alive."

You sat there forever, watching Olive travel back and forth when the penguins would jump in the water. Then came the gift shop. Olive picked out a plush penguin, and Joe corralled you both to the storybook section where he put on a dramatic reading of a magazine about jellyfish.

You left the aquarium and stepped out to the golden hour. The afternoon was still new, but your eyes felt heavy after all the fun had been left inside the aquarium.

"I think I'd like to find that coffee shop again." You spoke up, rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the new light.

Joe insisted on buying your drink since you'd treated him to today's grand adventure. You eventually obliged upon arrival, settling into a cozy booth by a window. Olive had curled up in the curve of the booth next to you, with your jacket bunched under her head, fast asleep.

You praised God that naptime had found its way into the afternoon schedule and took some time to send James and Andy photos of Olive pointing at giant sharks. That's when Joe reappeared with two plastic cups of coffee. You greeted him with a grateful thanks.

"These photos turned out so well. I was just sending them to my roommates." You explained, clicking your phone off altogether.

"You have roommates?" Joe wondered, sipping his own latte and leaning across the table with his head propped in his hand. Oh, shit. You and Joe had grown increasingly comfortable with each other during your aquatic escapade, but you surely weren't dumb enough to slip up so carelessly.

"Used to." You falsely corrected. "Lived together so long, sometimes I forget." You let out a breathy laugh, wrapping your fingers around your warm styrofoam mug and thanking Joe again for being so kind.

His hair was a little windblown, and his eyes seemed tired. The warm coffee shop was certainly a change of pace from walking the chilly London streets. But the conversation was just as easy as it had been always. Joe texted you the photo of the guitarfish plaque and you spoke about things that you each marveled over as children. When you started cracking up over some silly joke, Olive sat up and was ready to party all over again. You started to brush back her matted curls, but she clamored away from you and toward Joe, around the curve of the booth.

"You don't have to put up with her, ya know?" You reminded as Olive climbed into Joe's lap before you could stop her. But Joe welcomed the baby's embrace, sipping his coffee all the same.

"I really don't mind. We're like, best friends now. Right?" Joe looked down at Olive, who responded by wrapping her tiny arms around Joe's neck. Oh God, you should have never come to London.

But soon your coffee's were gone, and Olive was clearly ready for dinner. Without much discussion, you ended up in a small bistro with a friendly atmosphere. Olive demanded orange juice, and some came in a novelty sippy cup.

"That's way too fun. I'm so about to get one of those for myself." Joe decided, laughing over the boldly designed sippy cup. He really did order one for himself and kept pretending to steal Olive's and forgetting his own, making her laugh like crazy. You were just about to take a photo of the scene when your phone rang. It was Gwilym.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Gwilym greeted seeming sorry.

"Good day?" You wondered, unsure what else to say as a pang of strange guilt crept up inside of you.

"I'm just about to leave the city. Do you need a ride home? Should I pick up dinner?"

"No, no, wait where are you?"

Gwilym was literally a street away from where you were. So you demanded he come and enjoy the last half of your adventure. Joe was happy to hear your party was growing in size, and a kind waitress brought Olive a set of crayons and some paper to keep her from going crazy while stationed in a high chair.

That was about the time Gwilym showed up. He shouldered past a few patrons and laid eyes on you and Joe in an instant. Olive was holding out a crayon to Joe, babbling to him while he listened intently.

Gwil should have been jealous, or oddly territorial, right? He wondered if he should have even pretended to be. But Gwilym only felt a huge swell of happiness, watching you all laugh. He felt happy to see you happy for once. Because for a while now, your smile had mostly been for show.

When Gwilym approached your table, you couldn't even hold back your cheesy grin, while you rested your crayon and greeted him. Before he sat down, Gwilym gave you the strangest look. As if he'd just watched the end of a very satisfying movie. Like he'd just seen something unexpected come together.

Gwilym sat next to Joe, and the two made a show of reuniting. Then you both got to telling of the fun you had while Gwil was away, and even though a lingering sadness pulled at you, knowing Gwil was sad to have missed out, he seemed charmed by your stories. For the rest of the evening you all spent together, you kept crossing your fingers behind your back every time laughing at Joe's jokes seemed easy. You kept wishing this would somehow become as normal as it felt.

///

The weather was worse than dreary, the sky black with rain and fog clouding your view out of every window. Gwilym had been extra busy after the weekend break, so there wasn't much of a chance for you to visit him on set. As a result, Olive was going a bit stir crazy. 

You did your best to keep the girl entertained with the children's channel permanently playing on the flat screen, attempting to build a fort in the living room. But it wasn't enough for Olive. She started tossing toys away with frustrated whines and wailing when she didn't like the breakfast you cooked, even though it was her favorite. And the crying got worse as you wrestled her for bath time and offered teething toys she just didn't want.

Going on day three of her never-ending tantrum, you were exhausted. And even though you barely slept, you were out cold when Gwilym made it home, and you hadn't heard him leave before you woke up. Your morning started when Olive wept from her cot, hardly soothed by your attempts to cuddle her frustrations away.

By the middle of the afternoon, you sat on the edge of the sofa, waiting for your poor daughter's next big breakdown. This time, it came with a warning. Olive stood on the opposite side of the coffee table, staring right at you as she reached for a cup full of juice.

You called out her name, warning her to be careful, giving her a chance. But the kid tossed the cup to the floor, the lid falling off, red seeping into the rented shag rug. She wasn't two yet. The days weren't supposed to be so terrible. You called out her name, standing to stop her from crawling away. The babe burst into upsetting cries, knowing she was in trouble. You placed her in the playpen across the room, taking her favorite toy bat as the only punishment you could think up in your frazzled, fatigued state. And while you rushed to clean up the stain to the tune of your daughter's sobs, you cried too.  

Maybe Olive missed home. Maybe you did too.

"Hello-oh." Gwilym dropped his bags by the door and cautiously floated toward where you slumped against the coffee table. Olive was still wailing, and you were practically despondent and equally as tear-stained.

"Hi," You mewled as Gwilym held a hand out to. He shot you a sorry frown as he guided you to sit on the sofa.

Olive remained wailing, and you both knew something had to be done quickly or the baby would go permanently insane. Gwilym spun on his heels, noticing Olive's favorite toy bat on the coffee table. He picked it up, you thought, as an easy fix for her crying.

"Wait!" You plead. Gwilym looked to you in confusion as you hurried to explain yourself. "She's in time out. If you give that back, you'll be the good guy. I'll be the bad guy and I can't be the bad guy while I'm alone with her all day." You were panicking. You felt the walls closing in. You had to come back from this.

Gwilym listened as he slowly walked back toward you. Olive's cries were somehow dulled as she watched the two of you interact.

"She spilled juice all over the rug. I tried to clean it up but it's still kind of there. That's not even the half of it, though." You slumped forward, running your fingers through your hair.

"Then here, darling." Gwilym knelt before you, placing the plastic bat in your lap. He clasped one of his hands over your knee to get your attention. "You give it back to her, later."

Just the simple act of expressing your pent up frustration was a load off your shoulders. 

"We'll run to the store for carpet cleaner. We'll even take the long way home so you can have a bit of quiet." Gwil assured.

"You don't have to take her, I know you've had a long day and-" You started.

"I'm gonna." Gwilym chuckled. He took your hand, placed it over the toy bat in your lap and gave a decided nod. "I'm sorry I've been away. And I'm sorry the week has been so hard. But I'm very glad you came to stay, for what it's worth."

You nodded, furrowing your brow. "Thank you Gwil."

With another small nod, he stood to collect your daughter, and you stood to go draw a bath. This might have been your only chance to relax for the rest of the foreseeable future. As you rounded the corner, before the door shut behind him you heard Gwilym talking to Olive,

"You've got to stop causing your mummy so much trouble. That's my job."

You wanted to laugh, but you knew you'd only cry. Because he made you want to shake his shoulders and sense into his head. But you really couldn't believe how much you relied on him. You considered this during a steam-filled bubble bath, and crawled into bed for a nap when you just couldn't think any longer.

///

You woke up to dull thuds of rain against the window, the smell of food in the air. Your daughter was babbling in the other room, and the sounds of pots and pans rattled you all the way awake.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes to find Olive flipping through big picture books in the low lit living area. A little further away, Gwilym was shutting the oven door when he noticed you.

"Hello! I got the stain out of the carpet and picked up some extra bits for dinner." The guy smiled kindly, turning back toward the stove when steam started to billow. You took a beat to watch on in wonder before thanking Gwil profusely for going above and beyond saving the day- the week rather.

Everything was back to normal, with a little help from the father of your child. "Oh, and I've got a surprise for later!" Gwilym echoed as you eased further into the kitchen.

Right when you were about to ask what the hell Gwilym was on about, a Facetime call from James lit up your phone screen. You answered in a flash, greeting your dearest friend like you hadn't spoken in years.

You settled onto the floor next to Olive who was just as pleased to see your roommate on your phone screen. You only stood when she kept threatening to chew on your phone case, and floated toward the kitchen where Gwil was happily working away.

"And how's the happy couple?" James jeered like usual, as you propped your phone against the counter. But instead of laughing, or giving some exaggerated answer like you always would, your face fell. Gwil shifted from the stove, noticing your expression as he turned down one of the burners.

"Tell him." Gwilym softly suggested, stepping closer as if to encourage you. You'd never planned to tell anyone. You weren't sure what to say, but you wondered if getting this lie off your chest to someone who it hardly affected might help, somehow.

"Uh, guys..." James pipped up.

"Actually, allow me to begin." Gwilym stepped further into the frame as you took his place string dinner on the stovetop.

"Oh, of course, our third wheel! Was I crazy in expecting this video chat date to be a one on one?" James wildly drew. You chuckled from behind Gwil, watching him lean both arms against the counter.

"Where's our fourth wheel?" You jeered from across the room. "This car is running like shite." You laugh. You missed Andy, and the comforting chaos your two roommates provided.

"Listen" Gwilym brought the focus back to the matter at hand. "I wanted to start by saying that I messed up and I really wish I hadn't. And every time I suggest making things right, your darling Y/N stops me." 

Gwilym was obviously immensely regretful, but you were both in too deep. You had been long before he perpetuated the lie. But he still should have cleared the air from ever becoming even more sticky.

He went on explaining the whole situation to James, who listened without piping up once. James was never speechless. You must have really fucked up.

"You guys. I'm going to ask you something and I'm gonna need the honest, raw truth." James wasn't being funny anymore. You drifted closer into the frame, watching your best friends pixelated form lean close.

"Do either of you have feelings for each other? At all?" James questioned.

He'd asked this before, in a much more lighthearted manner. You and Gwilym had always been sickeningly doting to one another, giving the circumstances. Like one morning, very soon after finding out you were pregnant, you pleaded for Gwilym to spend the night simply to keep you company. The morning after, you both burst into a fit of giggles over breakfast, waking James from his bedroom down the hall. "Are you two shaggin' again?" He groaned. "God, no." You laughed.

"They bang, or whatever." James once said when introducing Gwil and a very pregnant you to some of his coworkers at a party. "We don't, actually!" You corrected. But Gwilym's hand was already splayed across your shoulder. James coworkers fixated their stares on your pregnant stomach and looked back up to you as if to prove a point. And you spent the rest of the party explaining that even though you used to bang Gwil, didn't mean you still were or even wanted to. Because you didn't. But you wanted to want to.

"No!" You sighed in frustration, after considering all of that. James' digital eyebrows rose as if to give you a second chance.

"Look. She's telling the truth mate. I don't think I have romantic feelings for her either. But I do love her and I feel like shite for making her put up with this, especially because-" Gwilym halted, ran his hand through his hair, and sighed. You knew exactly where he was going with this.

"Because...?" James prodded.

"It's not my place to say." Gwilym turned to look right at you.

"Y/N. What's going on?" James called. Right on cue, Olive cried from the other room, it must have been time for a change.

Gwilym stopped you from turning away and insisted he go. And when he drifted into the other room, you let out a deep sigh as your friend spoke up again.

"Now that he's gone... is there anything you need to confess?"

"I don't know what's going on James." You admitted, bringing your phone closer as you moved to lean against the door frame of the patio.

"You sure about that?" James squinted.

"I was so pissed at Gwil. But then I thought we could make it work. And I've been spending all week trying to think up exactly how to fall in love with my baby's daddy. And I just fucking can't." You gestured pitifully.

"You're sure? Love isn't a crush babe. Do you think of Gwil when he's away?" James wondered gently. "Do you feel at home when you look at him?"

And then all at once, there was a traffic jam in your heart. Something inside you stopped and caused all your other feelings to halt. Your realization was so massive that there was nowhere else to look but the cold hard truth.

"Not... not Gwilym, no." You spoke slowly, in a hush. That was what you'd always wanted. To feel like someone was your missing link. You wanted to feel sick with love. You'd longed to be looked at the way you'd seen in movies.

Joe's face blinded your vision, and it made you sick alright. Sick with the realization that no matter how badly you wanted Joe, you seemed to need Gwilym.

"Oh." James hummed like he'd read your mind. And with how closely bonded you two had become over the years, you didn't doubt the possibility. "I see."

"James I can't talk about this tonight." You realized, noticing Gwilym guiding Olive to crawl toward the kitchen for dinner. You feared if you started unraveling your tangled feelings that whatever the messy web was holding back would break through. And you couldn't let that happen. You promised James you'd fill him in soon, and hurried to hang up.

But before you could lock your phone and finish making dinner, you noticed an unseen message in your notifications. With a held breath you opened it,

Joe: Forgot to send you this! See you soon?

Below his simple statement was a photo you never knew existed. It was of you crouched next to Olive at the London Aquarium's penguin exhibit. Your silhouettes were illuminated by radiant blue light and you and your daughter were looking at each other, instead of the birds crowding near. Your heart swooped in your chest at the thought of Joe snapping the candid.

You let out a sigh and sucked your feelings way deep down in one giant breath, leaving your phone on the counter as you turned to unveil dinner from the oven.

Gwil quietly asked if you were alright in a way that sounded like he already knew the answer to that question. You convinced him everything was fine, that everything had to be fine. Then there was a knock at the door.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

taglist: @sonic-volcano​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @redspecialty​ @itscale​ @stardust-killer-queen​ @joemazzelo​ @dancetohotspace​ @kiwi-hardy​ @joeneslee​ @borhapqueen92​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @johndeaconshands​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @beepbeephardy​ @slutforbritdick​ @joemazzmatazz​ @almightygwil​

[lucidpantone]

Visitations Preview Finale pt. 1

This finale chapter is getting so long so as a gift I thought I give you guys the first 5k. 

Disclaimer: Same rules apply.

Italics is the past. If not, it's August 15th.

His atop a precipice.

A vantage point where all things come into view.

Where the decision to plunge himself into the abyss invites him in like a gaping wound but he chooses the latter a dance around the hardwood.

A dance.

Is that all it is?

Love and life a mere tango between two forms battling for governance; for the lead. The notion of control dangling in the air like some token of chance, a lucky charm, a rabbit’s foot. He’s frozen. Paused. In mid-air transition.

A live wire at a stop light waiting for the green. A brethren of the craniate in the peril of deoxygenation, mere seconds away from contorting his skeletal structure into hyperextensions.

He inhales.

Shoulder and neck slanted on an incline. He pushes towards gravity and lets the slab of maple [swish] the surface. The wheels of his board drawing everlasting as he brushes figure eights. The male body truncating in the air like an oversized bolt drilling down a sealed vault. His thoughts [swirling] through him like a polar jet stream. Icy and ferocious. Early day discussions on fast forward and repeat.

“I need my meds recalibrated doc” Sander mumbles out.

“Hmmmm” The doc sounds apprehensive.

“It looks like you have had a recalibration every year for the past 3 years.” The doc thumbs through Sander’s medical chart.

“Are you sure this isn’t a symptom of all the stress you’ve been under? The grand opening tonight? The financial pressures?”

“NO!….I mean yes, but no, I’ve been edgier than usual but that's not why” Sander states adamantly.

“Plus, I'm having trouble sleeping.” Sander tacks that one for good measure knowing if anything they will re-up his sleeping aids.

They weren’t all lies he thought to himself as he swung like a pendulum from side to side on the crown jewel. Loud cheers and celebratory adorations coming from the gallery space; breaking him out of his reflections. He can’t avoid the crowd much longer. The party is in full swing and he needs to go make the rounds. Poetic discussions about his vision await him; descriptions about the counter duality of dark and light, functional or utilitarian, for profit versus non profit but he wasn’t in the mood. He was proud of himself, he knew that much and though he relished in his attendees jovial shoulder taps and glass raises it all felt empty. His exterior soaked up in white lies when questioned about the space's interior. His slapstick smile perfected to compliment his  pheasant plumage as he peacocked around the room; hosting duties increasingly onerous as the guest list questioned him about the young hot shot architect that he had collabed with to create such an impressive view.

“Can we meet him?” They’ll ask, but they won't be able to.

He bailed, or so that’s what he texted Sander that morning. His usual slew of excuses that he hid behind as to why he couldn’t make it back to Antwerp. Back to Sander. Same reasons as to why he’d always be the first to drop off on a conference call between him, Sander and the contractors. Why he’d walk the space with everyone but his counterpart. Purposefully avoiding displays of patronage or binary settings on life’s stage. An agenda via obstruction; creating an alternative universe in which the skater boy and his artist were destined to miss each other every time.

As Sander continued to surf the half pipe the laws of thermodynamics began to dilute his intentions. Velocity and gravity leaving him as the wheels underneath screeched to a halt cutting off the tracings of eternity he had swiveled onto the plywood.

It was time for the dog and pony show.

Time to hot trot around man made obstacles displaying prowess in form. Sander kicked up his board and walked off the ramp’s flat and jumped down onto the cement floor. Leaving the amber coated world that housed a statuesque half pipe in the backdrop with the autograph R+S marred onto its body when he heard the [click] of a lock. He’s body instinctively flinched as the knob to the door twisted open and the sounds from the other world serenaded their shangri-la.

Sander took a step back as a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness of the tattoo shop’s working space. Hues of black splaying across the cement finish. Sander’s eyesight travelled from the floor to the figure holding onto the door and gave a mocked laugh in disbelief.

Robbe took another step forward, let go of the door, and let it slam shut. Instantly killing off the volume from the outside. Entering the space where the other half of a war torn love story survived.

The story of a pair of star crossed lovers enveloped in a love quagmire.

-

Robbe cranked the lever.

The car door flew open.

“Careful there. If you don’t treat it well you’re going to break it” Luc teased out to Robbe.

Robbe pushed himself off Luc’s ride, his body seesawing between two worlds when he stepped out onto the pavement.

The night was inviting. The spirits of the dead were amongst the living. Or so, that's how the legend goes..

Of course Sander would choose ole hallows eve to host his Grand Opening. It was fitting for him. A night wrapped up in the witching hour. Where the spirits of the past are able to walk side by side amongst those prepared to sin. Unknown entities, ghouls and those who feed off the darkness of others dancing around the room whispering bad intentions into well intentioned beings.

This night was a trap but neither of them knew it yet.

“Can you hold this?” Robbe asked Luc as he handed him two black frames wrapped up carefully with black tissue paper to protect the glass from any scratches. He took a moment to fix his black shirt and ruffled out his black mid length pea coat and then took back the frames off Luc’s hands.

Robbe noticed Luc’s slight displeasure at his primping and quickly readjusted the frames underneath his right arm and went to grab Luc’s hand with his left.

“Hey don’t get in your head. Ten minutes and we are in and out and then we can go to dinner with my mother. I know it's weird but Jann is a client who owns a ton of other businesses and it’d be stupid of me to mess up future possibilities. This is strictly business nothing else.”

“Promise?” Luc questioned.

Robbe narrowed his brow and tilted his head to one side in an inquisitive manner.

“Don’t you trust me?”

Luc tipped his head downwards and plastered on a fake smile in agreement. Luc squeezed his lover’s hand and they walked towards the shop's facade as the Halloween vibes speed skated around them and the veil between two worlds began to thin.

“ROBBEEEE!!!!!” Jann screams out amongst the crowd.

“You came” Robbe gives Jann a little wave as he walks over to Robbe clearly a little intoxicated enjoying the celebrations. Jann was the majority investor in Sander’s tattoo shop and someone he and Sander had known for years. Jann was practically a giant. He towered over the crowd at 6’5ft (195cm). He claimed his height was a genetic trait of being born in Eindhoven. He was in his mid fifties but you would never be able to tell. He was covered in full sleeve tattoos and wore his black t-shirt and leather pant uniform everyday since the first day Robbe met him on his 18th birthday.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It was such a pleasure working with you.” Robbe schmoozed him.

“Jann this is my boyfriend Luc. Luc this is Jann he is the investor in this project and the poor soul who trusted me not to mess it all up” Jann roared out a half drunken laugh and gave Robbe a slightly to forceful pat on the back.

Jann leaned into Robbe’s neck which caused Luc to raise a brow and began whispering secrets at a low volume.

“We got approved” Jann confirmed. Robbe looked up at him and pointed his index finger downward towards the white floor of the gallery space. Jann shook his head in confirmation and continued to add on.

“And the community park license so we can teach lessons out back in the skate park” Robbe’s face lit up like a light bulb. He never thought the crazy plan he concocted months ago would actually work. His idea to try to register the gallery and public park as charity spaces actually came through and most importantly saved Jann a ton of money meaning he wouldn’t try to refurbish them into business spaces anytime soon.

Robbe scanned his white surroundings in attempts to find a mop of lunar hair sticking out but nothing in sight.

Jann noticed Robbe scanning the room so he pointed him towards the back.

Robbe excused himself for a moment and as he walked towards the back of the tattoo shop Jann yelled out.

“Robbe don’t forget about our appointment to cover up that shoulder tattoo. It's on the house.”

Robbe didn’t even acknowledge Jann as he transitioned from the white gallery space to the tattoo shops black working space. His all black outfit practically blended him into the wall paint. He got to the back door and twisted the handle. It was locked.

He twisted the bolt and heard it click.

As he pushed his body into the third space the amber earth tones consumed him and as serendipity should have it Sander was waiting for him.

Robbe took one more step forward and let the back door slam shut. It felt like all of sudden him and Sander were stuck in zero gravity.

In some type of suction vacuum where oxygen was limited.

“Hi” Robbe tried to cheerfully break the ice but that was short lived.

“What are you doing here? I thought you bailed?” Sander’s tone was loaded with so much poison that it stung Robbe.

“Well I changed my mind. I thought it’d be nice to finally see the finished product. You know since Jann, you and I have spent so many months working on it.”

Robbe was nervous. He kept fiddling with the frames. It felt like Sander’s gaze was dismantling him.

“It looks great by the way. The contractors did a great job. I mean it looked great when I walked the space last month with them but it's really impressive now that it's all done.”

“You were totally right about keeping the layout white, black and into earth tones. Oh and I brought you a gift.”

Robbe tired to hand Sander the frames but Sander made a hands all full gesture as he held up his Element skateboard. Sander walked over to a table that looked like it had been set up for drinks placement and slid his board underneath it.

“Just put the frames on top. I’ll grab them later.” Sander directed Robbe.

“I didn’t know you still had the old Element I brought you.” Robbe stated.

“Old habits die hard.” Sander threw back at him.

Robbe just shook his head up and down in agreement.

Robbe looked out towards the ramp and just took it all in for a moment.

“Remember when we went to go get this thing from that crazy guy in Ghent…..” and before Robbe could even finish the story Sander cut him off.

“I thought you were here for business? Or are you ready to go down memory lane now?” Sander’s tone made it very clear that he wasn’t in the mood for Robbe’s fake banter.

Robbe turned his body to look directly at Sander. It always took both of them aback how each other's gaze always felt like they were baring their souls to one another.

Robbe and Sander could find so much tranquility in one another and yet so much turbulence at the same time.

Robbe finally broke the silence.

“I should have told you about my boyfriend”

Sander’s eyes widened and he bit his bottom lip. Robbe recognized this gesture; Sander was pissed.

“So, why didn’t you?” Sander shot back.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you cared. You never called me after the last time I saw you.”

Sander enunciated the next part.

“I DIDN’T CALL YOU?”

He then repeated himself again.

“I DIDN’T CALL YOU?”

“I am sorry that I’ve been busy trying to make one of the most important business deals of my life happen and didn’t have the time to fucking wait on you hand and foot.”

Sander ran his hands over his face to calm his temper. His cup runneth over with emotion.

“If you weren’t so damn selfish you would have realized I am stressed out of my damn mind. I literally have no money because I sunk it all into the shop and that I could easily lose everything if things don’t go well but of course you wouldn’t get that since you’ve never made those types of sacrifices for anything in your life.”

Robbe was really biting his tongue. He knew Sander was just stressed out and venting at him but Sander knew very well that Robbe had made those types of sacrifices time and time again for him above anyone/anything else.

“I think I should go” Robbe stated.

“I think you should go too. We should try to keep this little arrangement copacetic.”

Robbe turned his body to head for the door when Sander just couldn’t leave it alone.

“You were never one to stay anyways”

Robbe turned back to look at him knowing very well that Sander was harping on their esoteric love sonnet.

“I always knew you didn’t really have any fight in you” Sander was just slicing knife wounds in Robbe now and they both knew it.

“You know why I didn’t call…..”

Robbe looked straight at Sander. His beautiful brown eyes pleading with him to stop. Sander was starting to drag their love into purgatory but his impulsive need to punish Robbe apexed and Sander ran the spite laced knife right through Robbe’s heart.

“You were right. There is no us.”

He was reveling in the pain.

“There hasn’t been for a long time….and there’ll never be again.”

Sander drew out the knife from Robbe’s heart.

His hands coated in disgrace allowing his love to bleed out right in front of him.

It surprised Sander when he saw Robbe’s eyes darken and glaze over. It scared him. He got the reaction he wanted but seeing it materialize in front of him instantly made him want to take Robbe in his arms and tell him that he didn’t mean it but before he could even react Robbe ran out the door. Practically running over Jann in the process.

“Where is Robbe going?” Jann questioned.

“I told him it would probably be better if he left. He’s just so selfish”, Sander answered back.

“What?” Jann looked genuinely astonished.

“Jann stay out of it. It's none of your business.” Sander forgot who he was talking to.

“Look, I’ve known you two since you were a pair of teenagers getting sappy tattoos for one another so whatever it is, fix it, but more importantly this is my shop. So everything that concerns it is my business. Do you understand that? ”

Jann rarely took on the authoritarian stance he was exuding now. So Sander knew he meant it.

“I understand”

“Good because tomorrow I am calling Robbe and offering him the Brussels project for next year and if you happen to not fuck up before then I may get you in on it too”

Sander gave Jann a head tip in understanding.

Jann heads for the door to leave Sander to stew when he decides to teach him a lesson.

“Oh and next time, why don’t you check the books before calling someone selfish. That selfish kid ran around for months trying to get the right paperwork so we could get on the right registry to save thousands in taxes and his boss called me today letting me know he forfeited his personal architect fee. Something about he had a prior agreement with you that he wanted to honor.”

Point taken.

Sander practically felt like Jann had slugged him in the face. He quickly exited the amber coated world and ran past the black and into the white gallery space. Sander could hear he’s friends calling out his name and people tugging at him to get his attention but he just wanted to catch up with  Robbe before he left.

He finally made it outside but the street was empty, dead, comatose.

“Fuck” Sander yelled out in frustration.

“You just missed him” Sander turned around to find the voice speaking to him.

A brown-eyed beauty stood in front of him. You’d swear she could be a doppelganger for a young Zendaya.

She walked towards Sander.

“Good looking guy with great hair in all black right?”

“Yea” Sander confirmed.

“Yea he jumped in a taxi with some tall guy about 2 minutes before you ran out.”

“Thanks”

“No problem…. You look like you need a drink”

“I do, are you buying?” Sander flirted back lightly.

“Well if you mean am I inviting you to the free bar then yes am buying”

Sander threw the pretty girl a smile.

“Sander, by the way” he held his hand out to her.

“Genade” she slipped her hand into his.

“Come on let's go get you that drink” Genade joked out as she dragged Sander back into his own shindig.

-

White walls.

Bareless ceilings.

Sleep, it was simply a stranger to him. He grabbed his phone and checked the screen. Nothing. No calls, no text, he’d even take a voicemail cussing him out at this point but nothing made him feel more like a piece of shit then seeing the blue light of the witching hour (3am) looking back at him. He rested the phone on his chest and Sander could swear in that moment the weight of the world was on top of him.

He turned his cheek to the other side of the bed to check if Genade was fast asleep. She was, Sander wasn’t sure how this night had unraveled so suddenly and how he found himself in bed with such a beautiful creature and yet still left so unsatisfied. He slid out of bed carefully and managed to somehow find his boxers in the dark of the night.

He twisted the door knob to his bedroom open as carefully as possible not to wake her. Once he heard the click of the lock as he closed it shut his entire body relaxed. He walked into his kitchen to get a glass of water and as he walked passed his kitchen table the black frames caught his attention. They just sat there waiting to be opened.

Sander had been so wrapped up in his own unconscious revenge that he had missed Robbe’s white flag of surrender. He picked up the first black frame and began to tear at the tissue. It was Robbe’s first initial blueprint of the tattoo shop which included the skate park. Sander could still recall how excited and nervous he was to pitch the added addition but that he was adamant that it would compliment the whole vision of the space while additionally giving young kids a place of refuge. He even whipped up one of his guilt trips when he asked Sander why he didn't think it was important to provide a place where young boys like them could find one another.

Sander gulped down the memory.

He put the frame down and picked up the second frame. He tore off the paper and when he saw it looking back at him he literally felt the spit laced knife dig into his chest. He practically stopped breathing for a moment. He pulled off the white post-it off the frame that read We made it happen in Robbe’s hand writing and behind it encased in time was the white napkin that Sander had used to map out his dream tattoo shop all those years ago sitting across the booth from Robbe. In that moment Sander felt like he hit rock bottom and he didn’t care that it was 3 a.m. or that what he was about to do was far from appropriate because all he could think of is that he needed to hear Robbe’s voice. Luckily he had brought his phone with him from the bedroom; call it instinct or intuition but something made him take it with him. He texted Robbe immediately.

Are you awake? - Sander

Sander was sure Robbe wouldn’t text back after all the horrible things he had said to him just hours earlier but something deep inside him told him not all hope was lost and before he started to whirlpool into panic his phone vibrated.

Yes - Robbe

Can I call you? Please… - Sander

Two minutes went by..

K - Robbe

Sander never thought the ring of a phone could make him feel so nauseous but he felt like his heart was in his stomach when he heard Robbe’s voice on the other end. It was practically a whisper…

“Hey”

“Am a fucking asshole. All the shit I said to you tonight, I didn’t mean it. I mean I did but am frustrated. I never thought this is how we would end up. I just don’t understand why you didn’t talk to me about your boyfriend after everything…… I don’t know I just thought……. We had agreed…..”

Sander could hear Robbe sigh out on the other end of the line.

“I just want you to be happy, baby. I don’t care if it's with me or not….”

Robbe didn’t react to Sander’s statement so he continued.

“I opened up your frame. I can’t believe you kept that dirty old napkin for the last 5 years.”

“6 years” Robbe corrected him.

“Yeah…. 6 years.” Sander forced out a sweet toned chuckle.

The line went quiet for a moment.

“You still there?” Sander asked.

“Yea”

“Thank you for registering the space. Thank you for figuring out the tax credit thing. Jann won’t shut up about how I introduced him to the best architect he has ever worked with. Thank you for…..”

Sander started to get choked up, so he composed himself before he continued.

“Thank you for chipping in. You didn’t owe me that”

“I did actually. I promised you I’d find a way, remember?” Robbe questioned.

Sander just ran the palm of his hand on his forehead and through his hair recalling the promise Robbe made to him so long ago. 

“And you always keep your promises” Sander tacked on.

“Always” Robbe confirmed.

“Can I ask for one last one?”

“Sander….” Robbe sounded slightly dejected.

“Whatever happens..I love you. That’s all that matters. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Okay?”

“Sand--”

“Please” Sander pleaded.

“Promise” Robbe agreed not knowing then that to fulfill this promise he would need to forsake another.  

The silence crept back in. Sander knowing the call was nearing its end. So he said his final words.

“I am so happy that I found you. That we got the time we got together and that we are one of the few people in the world that can actually say they found their soulmate.”

5 seconds of silence filled up the call.

“I love you baby. I always will. Am so sorry I hurt you tonight.” Sander added on.

“I….. I….” Robbe false started but he was so close to getting off the blocks in that moment and running towards the finish line but he faltered.

Then doubt took a hold of him.

“I have go now” Robbe stated, and before Sander could even respond he hung up the phone.

Once Sander heard the dial tone go dead he walked over to his couch and plopped down. He grabbed his sketch pad off the coffee table and began to draw the design that would go above his heart.

Robbe just looked down at his finger laying over the end call button and stood there in silence.

He wasn’t sure what he had just done but it all happened so fast.

His body and mind had completely shut down hearing Sander say those words to him. He stood there in his living room in between two minds. A big part of him wanted nothing but to call Sander back and tell him how much he loved him too. Another part of him was so angry that they were in this position. Robbe had done everything he could in his life to protect them from the world but he never planned that the thing that would ultimately tear them apart would be each other. He crossed his arms over his chest and sat down on his couch. He leaned forward slightly and rested his elbows on the top of his thighs. His thoughts made him anxious. Made him press his palms together and scratch his nails on the surface of his left hand.

Robbe took a big inhale and as he exhaled out all his doubts got caught up in his throat and he began to cough up sobs. Hot tears began to stream out of him and like the collapse of a dam the water pressure broke the walls of his interior. He crumbled. He just fell on his side and curled up like a young child. He buried his cries on the couch pillow and cried himself to sleep and in this moment of his despair Robbe felt Bowie come over and lie down next to him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There’s a void at the heart of the universe.

A place where space and time collide. Where the boundary lines of the event horizon can be found. Where a choice lies to leave the remnants of the mother, or to enter the ergosphere; the grey place where time ceases to exist and everlasting is a perpetual promise.

Man has sensed the presence of the black mass for quite some time but only until recently did we find ourselves asking: if no light can emanate from within then should we defy the gods? and cross into a plane that could potentially spaghettify the human body: two faces, four arms and four legs pulled into threaded form. A fruitless purgatory? or maybe, all together something else, an unknown, an entry door to another universe.  

The lovers essence is mirrored here; splashed across the buildings exterior as they stumbled out of their metallic cocoon placed into park. They dance atop the asphalt in embrace; need, and desire. A rendezvous of their lips tangled up in an act of amnesty. The automatic lightening levers flicker into automation. The sulfur vapor caresses their skin as they stand outside the apartment entry door. Robbe fumbles through a set of nickel, copper and brass finally identifying his right to pass. His hands are shaking suddenly, his body aware of his nervous system, reacting to what’s sure to come, their unspoken contract. Sander notices the delay and comes up behind him. He places his palm on top of Robbe’s hand and begins to guide it towards the keyhole. Robbe takes note of the fact that his Casio watch is looking right back at him. The dials in full functional spin.

Robbe unknowingly holds his breath as Sander assists him in unlocking the entry door. The [click] of the lock makes Robbe flinch. He isn’t sure why but suddenly he feels the axis shift. Robbe has no time to wallow in his concerns as he and Sander stumble into the lobby’s backdrop. The vapor wash has vanished and they find themselves amongst the whitest of all fluorescent lighting. It gives off a celestial feeling. The change of ambiance is almost cleansing. Sander focuses his attention on a chunk of real estate on the lobby floor it once served as temporary housing on the night Robbe jumped in between worlds. He smiles at the thought that he sat there that night, pen to paper calling on the properties of general relativity. Yearning for a distortion in time, a tear, an entryway. He disregards that flashback quickly as he senses Robbe’s shadow dance on screen. He grabs Robbe’s hand without much thought and the duo rush into the steel vault like a pair of runway bandits. The interior of their metal forge covered in a reflective surface. Sander navigates the route and makes his floor selection. As they travel from south to north they inch closer to their glass ceiling they run through their usual rolodex of the familiar. Violent pants interrupted by wet kisses, eager petting complimented by hair pulling, a bareless ceiling being balayage(d) by photo negatives that echo past dealings but the denominator of time begins to unravel and they are interrupted. The vault doors swing open.

Times up now.

They’ve arrived.

[justimajin]

A Lone Wolf’s Howl ☾ Part 12

⇾ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

⇾ Genre: ANGST, Action (with some dashes of Fluff here and there)  

↳ Werewolf AU

⇾ Words: 5.7k

⇾ Warnings: descriptions of violence and blood, a lot of angst for this chapter

⇾ Summary: Jungkook and you have been like two peas in a pod for the majority of your lives; whether it was going through the ups of downs of the horrid teenage change, to transitioning to the racing world of attempting to be adults. Simply put, you’ve been inseparable and glued to each other’s sides longer than you can remember. But one fateful day seems to completely change everything you had faith in and you begin to wonder if there was ever a time where you and your best friend even knew each other’s true colors.

⇾ A/N: There will be an epilogue posted next week so this isn’t the final chapter for the series but it does work as a finale. 

⇾  Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11(M) Part 12 Epilogue

The black shirt rolls down, rough fabric enveloping your head until it drops down and drapes your torso. You reach out for a pair of black leather gloves, threading your fingers through the holes until they firmly set onto your hands.

Your fingers work around to carefully lace them against your wrist tightly as your eyes drift up, gazing to see the dreary ash clouds coming together. Planting your clothed hand against the window, your mind can only go back to the point in time when the sky was flashing with angry bursts of orange. You had stood back marvelling them one the day they had arrived, until you saw the collection of exhausted, broken faces emerging desperately out of their clutches.

It was on that day you had moved to grasp onto your sword, declaring with firm words that you would help protect them just like they had protected you. It was on that day when a series of tangled feelings had been launched deep within you, invoking a multitude of unforeseen questions and shedding light on the darkest spots that were never visible to you.

Like a wavering seesaw, you were abruptly pulled into two different directions, but you would have never guessed that you would be looking up into those same clouds one day, hoping to rid them of orange entirely.

Arms suddenly wrap around you, causing your instincts to instantly be on guard when you sharply jolt, only to calming down when those arms are familiar, his scent not drawing out spikes of fear from you.

“Are you okay?” He quietly whispers and you hum, fingertips still tracing over the glass.

“I was just thinking back to the day I fought with everyone.” You turn around, looking into his sleepy concerned eyes, “The day I almost lost you.”

The thought sends an unsettling feeling to spindle in your stomach and Jungkook adorns a soft smile, holding warmth in his eyes.

He lowers himself to your ear, whispering in a playful tone, “I think you out of all people should know that I’m much stronger then I look.”

He lets out a laugh when he catches sight of your expression, scoffing at him until he pulls you closer, letting you bury your face against his broad chest.

“Relax a little, please?” He pleads, “I could feel you tense up and I was legitimately scared for a second that sneaking up on you was a bad idea.”

“Why?” You softly smile, mumbling against him, “Because I have the ability to take you down and everyone else in this house?”

He abruptly separates from you, a horrified look spreading across him, “Okay now I’m actually scared.”

You lightly laugh at that and he joins you, eyes crinkling when you’re grateful that even for the briefest of moments, he’s managed to ease some of impending pressure off your chest. Gasping onto your hands, you let him lead you out of the room, holding his hand firmer and firmer with every passing second.

***

Upon entering, you see him pointing his fingers around, eyes scanning all over to the wolves currently huddled around him as they listen intently. He steps back for a moment when Yoongi begins to talk, eyes flickering over to you and Jungkook.

“All set?” Namjoon questions, seeing you dressed in the familiar clothes. When you nod, he gestures over to the remaining wolves, “We’ve gone through the plan with them as well, you two will need to stay prepared.”

With a hum, you glance over to see Jungkook hurriedly advancing towards his members, quickly making eye contact and mumbling a handful of words until they all draw closer, grasping him into a sincere group hug.

He lingers for a moment, eyes still latched onto them until he shakes his head, forcing his vision elsewhere. Walking over to stand by your side, you can easily see the small hints of distraught still swirling in his eyes, however when he faces you, there’s only remnants of determination leftover.

Light flashes through your hands, your golden sword emerging out as you pull it back onto your hip. Sending Namjoon and the rest of the members a quick farewell look, Jungkook reaches out to grasp your hand as he drags you away.

He takes you to the far end of the pack-house, a narrow dark hallway that leads to a direct entrance to the large field. Your eyes remain glued to his back, scrunched eyes watching him as you follow his steps.

“You okay?” You softly ask, knowing his keen ears will pick up on it.

He tilts his head to the side, sending you a strained yet assured nod until you reach the door.

A chilly breeze immediately envelops around you when you head out, the icy coolness sending shivers through your entire body. Looking up, the clouds are a dark grey, messily tangling in the sky as the breeze picks up by the minute.

Jungkook stops for a moment, staring off into the distance until his eyes come onto you when he sees you quickly adjusting your gloves. The serious gaze he directs at you vanishes for a second, lighting up when there’s an amused smile on his lips.

“You know, you kind of look like one of those anime fighter girls.” You quirk an eyebrow at that and he lightly chuckles, pointing to the piece of steel attached to your side, “The glowing sword doesn’t help either.”

With a huff, you get up and dust yourself off with a playful smile, “Well, the glowing sword is going to come more into use today than it ever has.”

He smiles, leaning down on his knees as gold begins to fill his eyes, “Ready?”

You nod, watching the caramel brown fur encase his arms and shoulders within a flash, sharp canines protruding from his mouth as small ears emerge from the base of his head.

Jungkook’s wolf glances up at you when you move to situate yourself on his back, arms tightly looping around his neck. Once you’re secure, his wolf makes a soft grunt before it trudges at an alarming speed across the field, the distance between you and Crimson only decreasing with every minute that ticks by.

***

“Y/N?”

A set of bright wet orbs glance up, a wave of confusion overtaking them when you’re suddenly being lifted up, eyes similar to your own tracing over your features. There’s a layer of depth hidden in her eyes, swirling with a mixture of kindness and concern that has more water seeping out of your eyes.

She places a gentle hand on your delicate hair, smoothing it out with a whisper, “Why are you crying?”

The words that escape you are only broken and cracked, words that stutter out when your body harshly shakes.

“I-I miss t-them.” You bury your face into your knees, more tears overflowing, “I-I want to s-see them.”

You hastily look up for a split moment, trying to see anything – a ray of hope, a new solace, anything that tells you what you were feeling was a horrible lie.

Hollow silver eyes stare back at you, appearing both torn and disappointed at the same time.

You’re burying yourself again, refusing to come out of the room even when asked and wanting to desperately go home.

A black leather-bound book inches towards you, spiralling with intricate sliver designs on top of its crumbled brown crumpled pages.

“W-What is this?” You question, seeing two hands nudge it closer to you with a warm smile.

“It’s a book for slayers.” She explains, “A book full of magic.”

“Magic?” You ask, tilting your head when you simply stare at it. She nods, placing it down next to you before she pats your head again.

“If you read it for me, I can teach you how to fight those awful people that took your parents away from you.”

Your small eyes widen, enlarging as if she had just offered you a piece of candy. “Y-You can teach me that?”

She lightly laughs, “That and so much more Y/N.”

Her old hand reaches out for you and you hastily grab onto it, entering a promising world with a goal that would astray your path forever.

You blink your blurry eyes, slowly fluttering them open as you rub against your lids with your hands. A low yawn escapes your lips, glancing down to see you were still on Jungkook’s back as his wolf paces against the stormy wind, practically flying at his immense speed.

Taking a glimpse at your surroundings, it seems you and Jungkook had travelled a great distance before you had ultimately dozed off, drawing closer to the base then you had expected.

A deep sigh leaves you, leaning down to press your cheek against the wolf’s warm fur and tightly shutting your eyes against the sharp wind. The image of a book swirls in your mind, causing your tired eyes to open up again when the memory remains as fresh as waking up this morning.

You wonder why it decided to emerge after so long, why you could feel your stomach lurching and heart aching now even though at the time all you could ever imagine was learning how to fight for what you had lost. It was your decision, set in stone when you began training for something you truly believed in for so many years.

But it’s a decision you didn’t know would lead to this.

A decision in which you will have to face her.

You grab onto his fur tighter and Jungkook’s wolf lets out a small howl, like he was sensing your distress already.

You smile, placing a hand against him, “Keep going Jungkook, I’m just tired.”

His wolf grunts in response and you plant your head against him again, attempting to get any more remains of sleep before you reach your ultimate destination. However, when you finally close your eyes shut and begin to feel yourself drifting off, Jungkook’s wolf lets out a sharp growl that awakens your ears instantly.

There’s a crease in between your brows when you lift yourself, peering into his field of vision only to see a collection of slayers breezing by, all armed with swords.

Your breath hitches, grabbing your sword from your side and lighting it up with silver instantly. Swinging it around you with one hand, you keep the other on the wolf beneath you when it comes into contact with other slayers as you attempt you clear up your pathway.

A handful of them get knocked down thanks to your instant reaction, but then you see them moving in closer to target Jungkook and it only causes the grip on your sword to tighten even more. Jungkook on the other hand, is speeding up drastically so he can get the two of you all the way Crimson safely in one piece.

A loud yelp leaves you when you meet another sword harshly, knocking you down from Jungkook’s back and causing you to spiral down until you hit the base of a tree. You wince when it slams against your shoulder, letting out a pained cry when you reach out to press your hand against it.

You can hear a distance howl from afar, growing by the second until you sense sharp canines penetrating deep into your jacket and tugging you along the ground. You’re suddenly sent flying back, rolling over to smoother ground into a room that is filled with a collection of swords and clothing.

Heavy gasps are coming from underneath you; your eyes instantly sparking when you raise yourself to see a pair of golden eyes tightly clutching onto your form.

“Jungkook!” You cry out, eyes trailing over his now human form when he weakly opens his eyes. You notice a blotch of blood pooling around his side, dangerously close to the injury he had sustained before.

You instantly scatter off him, watching him slowly rise with scrunched up eyes, before they move onto his injury.

He sighs in relief, turning to you as he catches his breath, “I’m okay, just grazed by a sword.”

You nod, eyes shifting to look behind him to view the large expanse of swords in the dark room. It only clicks in after a second that you’re in Crimson and the realization itself causes a string of twisted emotions to run through your veins.

“We need to start heading out,” Jungkook hurriedly says, grasping onto your hands and pulling you along with him, “If we follow the same path, it’ll lead us directly to–“

A roaring howl pierces through the air, sending a jolt through you when you view the hidden opening you and Jungkook entered through. You glance back at Jungkook, who immediately stiffens right beside you until his trained eyes walk closer to it.

It’s soon followed by up another rapturous howl, this time sounding louder and more strained. “What is it Jungkook?”

“It’s too much.” He whispers, taking an instant step back, “The numbers, there’s more slayers and rogues out there then we had expected.”

He abruptly turns to you; golden eyes sinking deeper into the dreadful realization when they falter, words being caught up in his throat.

You take a step forward, recognizing exactly what was dwelling inside him when you reach out for his hand and grasp it tightly within your own.

“Go.” His eyes widen, staring at you in alarm when he wonders if he heard you correctly.

“But– “

“Go Jungkook.” You stare into his eyes, an understanding smile painted on your lips when you give his hand a comforting squeeze, “Your family needs you.”

There’s a range of emotions spiralling in his golden eyes, from overflowing levels of relief to a sense of pure gratefulness. You expect him to turn and leave instantly once those words come out from you, but instead he tugs you towards him and interlaces his arms around you.

He crashes his lips against yours, moving them feverishly until you part with a harsh gasp. His fiery gaze sends a spike of determination within you, especially when he whispers in your ear.

“I’ll come back as fast as I can, if anything happens, I’ll find you.”

You nod, blinking away the water in your eyes when he lets go of your hand, slowly backing away with every step as his eyes never leave you once. He tumbles out of the room, morphing instantly and you have to snatch your eyes away from the sight, swiping your sleeve against them as you walk into the deepest depths of the base.

***

A symphony of water drips down from the ceiling, splashing against the silent ground. It echoes with the sound of your heartbeat, pounding pulse by pulse against your chest as your feet slowly shuffle across the eerie hallway.

It’s the same place you and Jungkook had stumbled upon during your first visit to the base together, the same oak walls, swirling with thick air along with the small lamps lit against them. However this time you are alone in the dark, looming passageway and the thought itself is unsetting, your throat drying when memories resurface of the horrors you had discovered here.

You slowly pace yourself though, threading your way into the hallway stealthily as you keep your sword tightly clutched in your hand. Despite the shallow breathes escaping you by the minute and the frantic shaking your limbs, your sliver eyes continue to roam around for any signs of movement until they land upon the familiar room.

Recognizing the faint lines on the oak door has become second nature to you, so with another deep quivering breath, you grip your sword and will yourself to push against the door.

You don’t realize you were holding your breath until you finally exhale, eyes gluing themselves to the hooded figure standing by the window in a sharp instant.

With arms crossed behind their back, the figure stands on the other side of the room from you, orbs watching the mayhem occurring outside. It’s a view full of flashes of fired orange, drenching cries of misery and howls of pain echoing through the thin glass.

A million thoughts running through your mind from the sight alone, but you hastily push them all away when you know there’s one thing you came to do here and nothing would be over until you finished it.

Before you even have the chance to voice out what you were going to do, a deep voice resonates through the room, surprising you with a layer of softness it retains.

“You came sooner than I had expected.”

The pulled curtain falls down from her hands and when she turns around, reaching up to push her hood back to reveal her face. It occurs to you in that single moment how long it’s been, how long it’s been since you’ve seen those dark silver eyes, the tired complexion and the slender old hands – all deeply etched into memory prior to leaving entirely.

“How long are you going to stand there?” She seats herself down on a wooden stool, one distinctively similar to one she used to read stories of the past to you when you just a mere child, “I suppose we can settle what’s on your mind, without bringing that into question.”

She gestures to your gleaming sword, encouraging you to sit down in front of her as she takes it as something brewing inside your mind.

A part of you is lurching on the inside, itching to raise your sword and bring down the accumulation for fiery building up inside you bit by bit. However, just like an obedient, trained child’s strings are pulled, yours are soon maneuvering over to doing just as she wants.

You gulp when you sit down, a question already sitting on the tip of your tongue that begs for an answer.

“Why is the Crimson Clan housing rogue werewolves?”

“Ah.” Her eyebrow raises, like she had anticipated that would be on your mind. A deep sigh escapes her, clasping her hands together firmly, “You know what the history is Y/N. Slayers were close to being gone completely and if they needed to come back, then some assistance was certainly needed.”

“By wolves?” You sharply question, gripping onto the base of your sword harshly, “You took assistance from creatures you’ve always sought out to destroy?” 

She crosses her legs, eyes narrowing, “Those creatures are not werewolves Y/N. They are merely puppets, to be used and discarded of until we get our hands on what we desire.”

You blink, perplexed she would think in such a way, “Now that you’ve asked a question, I would like some answers as well.”

She leans forward, eyes turning stern that instantly reminded you of times she would scold you for not properly handling your sword, “Why was I informed that not only were you missing during your first hunt, but that you were staying in close proximity with a pack of wolves?”

Her voice is sweet as honey, but the underlying demanding tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you when you know that she knows, yet wants to hear the words tumble out of your lips as she draws all the spotlight onto you.

The voice is so quiet and faint, barely passing through your lips.

“Because my best friend is a werewolf.”

Her silver eyes spark with your confirmation, brows furrowing intensely, “It’s him, isn’t it? The boy with the brown wolf.”

Your eyes twitch for a moment, anger brewing in your eyes, “The same boy you had stabbed.”

Her eyes falter at that, glancing at you in sympathy, “Y/N, he’s a wolf.”

“He was a friend.”

“A friend?” She scoffs, growing frustrated by the second, “A slayer’s duty is always to exterminate werewolves Y/N, you and I both know that. Besides,” She lowers her gaze, “He took something of mine away and I simply needed to retrieve it back.”

“Why if that something didn’t want to come back?”

Her eyes narrow, flickering in confusion for a moment until they sink in deeper, “Has that monster gotten inside your mind Y/N?

You grit your teeth, your sliver eyes blazing, “Don’t speak of him in such a way.”

“He has gotten inside in your mind, hasn't he?” She rises, fuming when she draws closer and tugs your arm up instantly, “He’s trapped you in his clutches and turned you against your own people!”

She freezes, eyes latching onto the faint mark residing at the base of your neck when your shirt is tugged away. You carefully watch as her expression immediately contorts, sourly twisting up when she lets go as if the very touch burns her, a low hiss escaping her lips.

“Y-You’ve mated with him.” She whispers, backing away from you when she stares at you in horror. Her eyes enlarge even more when you fix your shirt, not reflecting the same remorse dwelling in her eyes in the slightest.

The empty look in your eyes aggravates her even further and suddenly there’s a flash of light forming from her hands, a sword immediately protruding out.

“Since it’s clear you’ve made up your mind already, I won’t hesitate either.” She lunges for you, sword blazing as it clangs against your own and you push against the sword with a great force, pushing her back alongside it.

Skidding against the floor, you tighten your hold when the orange glow her sword is radiating with grows brighter, meeting against your silver glow with such intense strength that you grit your teeth in retaliation. You meet each and every one of her hits with a swift hit of your own, effortlessly spinning on your feet with a flash.

You heave, gasping when a line of sweat trails down your throat and her eyes latch onto the fated mark on your shoulder again, teeth clenching.

“Don’t you realize already Y/N?” Her voice changes, causing you to look up when there’s desperation leaking into her eyes, “It’s a matter of minutes now.”

She raises her sword to the window, drawing your attention to it, “Those werewolves don’t stand a chance against our slayers and the rogues. They’ll be finished,” The next words sting you the most.

“Including that wretched wolf I allowed you to get close to.”

“You didn’t allow anything.” You hiss, rising from your feet, “I chose to have a normal life, I chose to become friends from him.”

“And yet you turn your back on your people? On the person that raised you?” She scoffs, “How could you?”

“How could you?!” You blink away the tears, your sword immediately blazing with heavy silver when her words only play a tune you want to desperately forget, “You’re the one that took everything from me!”

She lifts her sword when you bring down yours, looking up to see pure fiery swirling in your eyes, “My parents were killed by werewolves.” You pin her against the wall, sword pushing down on her form as you tower over her, “Werewolves with black smoked eyes.”

Her expression falters and that’s all you need for an answer, but before you can strike, she rolls away from you, tightly grabbing onto the base of her sword.

Her bottom lip twitches when you get up, eyes brewing darker and darker the longer she stares at you, before her sword comes down and slashes down onto your shoulder. A loud cry erupts from you, warm blood spilling onto the ground.

“What your parents had, was wasted potential.” She kicks you, causing you to fall onto the ground harshly. “They couldn’t see what I saw in you!”

“You never needed me!” You grip the ground, tugging yourself up, “Slayers didn’t even need to exist, but you brought them back when they weren’t needed in the world anymore.”

“You never cared about us, you just needed weapons.” Your voice begins to crack, but you can’t keep the harsh tears streaming down your eyes at bay anymore, “W-Why did you even have to drag them into this?”

The anger only increases on her; her features contorting when you bite down on your lip, shaking your head, “Why couldn’t you have just left us all alone?!”

Silence cuts through the air.

“Because you were too perfect.”

She whispers, fascination buzzing in her eyes, “A natural-born slayer, strong and powerful, but thankfully without my sister’s foolish mistakes.”

Your head instantly snaps up, jerking in her direction when there’s a faint layer of regret wafting in her eyes, “M-My mother-…”

She hums, “One of the best slayers I knew, up until she met that human man and decided she was going to leave her slayer life behind for his sake.”

She walks over to you, sword dragging along the ground as you remain startled in place, “I tried to convince her. Many, many times.” Faintly, she shakes her head as if recalling a handful of memories, “But then I found out she was pregnant, with his child.”

She stands right in front of you, sliver meeting each other’s eyes, “When I first laid eyes on you, I knew you had inherited the same powers. I knew I had to welcome the newest member into my forming clan.”

Her hand reaches out to pat your head but your arm shoots out, tightening your grip around her wrist, “You mean to say…you took me in because my mother refused to take part in your insane idea.”

Her brows furrow with the word ‘insane’ but she shakes her head.

“It was her loss.”

Your hand trembles against her, wet eyes contorting into pure anger when you look at her straight in the eyes. Her brows furrow, a layer of fear overtaking her features when she watches one of your sliver eyes completely morph into a bright gold.

“No.” You whisper, voice coming out in the form of a growl, “It was your loss.”

Letting go of her hand, you take a deep breath when the silver fur rapidly encases your throat and face, cascading down onto your chest and arms swiftly when an ear-splitting howl escapes you. You scrunch up your eyes, drops of blood falling onto the ground when elongated nails spike out of your fingertips.

Breathe Y/N. You remind yourself, allowing the change to take a natural pace and as a way to not tear your own body in half, Just like Jungkook taught you.

A raspy howl unleashes from your throat, canines on full display when you narrow your half pair of gold eyes at her and she stares at your form in utter horror.

Immediately, you pounce – sharp claws scraping against her when you snap your large canines and grab onto her sword. You chuck it away harshly, the bronze blade meeting the wall with the thud and she screams, grabbing onto your fur with a fist and throwing you against the ground.

“Y-You…” A trembling finger is pointed at you, tainted with specks of red when panic is painted across her features, “You are not my student anymore.”

A snarl escapes you at that and you ready yourself to lunge again, but a throbbing wave overtakes your wolf and you shake your head. Blinking again, your vision starts to steadily blur, but you toss it all aside when you see her gaze fall onto her blade on the ground.

Your silver claws scrape against the wood when your wolf is sent flying, knocking her onto the ground when the blade clatters. You know you don’t have enough time left on your hands, your wolf already struggling to keep up with you as the seconds quickly tick by. With a loud roar, you know you have to end everything there and then – all of the wolves depending on you and Jungkook heavily. Although you can sense yourself hesitating, this is something you must do and finish.

Leaning down, you bear your canines.

But they don’t reach her.

Instead, a flash of pain shoots up you.

Splashes of blood colour the ground when you gasp, staggering off her when your vision blurs even more. The fur immediately is snatched away from you; sliver turning back into skin when you collapse onto the ground with a wheeze.

You turn your head, watching her rise with a dark grin and then trailing your horrified eyes down to view to see your entire arm ripped open.

The very arm you use to wield your sword.

Shock pulsates through your mind, frantic scattering thoughts all over the place until a firm foot lands onto that arm, ripping out a loud scream from your lips.

“My most treasured student.” She whispers, blood seeping from her forehead when she places her blade against your mark, “How unfortunate for it to end like this.”

You shake your head, tears streaming down your eyes the more she roughly presses her foot down and silent pleas leaving you by the moment. Squeezing your eyes, one last lone tear leaves you when you feel the blade meet your skin.

It never pierces through your throat.

A thunderous howl echoes into the room, paws padding with speed against the ground until they lift and grab onto the sword aimed out or you. The Elder is thrown off, dark silver eyes enraged when she spins to throw the wolf off and comes face to face with a familiar shade of caramel brown that stands its ground in front of you.

“You.”

The wolf has a glint of rage dwelling in its eyes, the feral nature consuming it entirely when it snarls at her and she directs her sword at it. “I lost my precious child because of you!”

The wolf launches itself again; a blur of caramel brown whizzing across the room when its canines lodged themselves into her arm, causing her hold on the blade to loosen. Its claws dig in, tearing her flesh apart when a distant scream is heard.

The wolf continues to attack furiously, letting out all of its rage as the Elder continues to fight back with no avail. As blood coats the ground beneath them, your fading eyes catch onto sparks of orange swirling in her hands. No sound is produced in your throat when the colour intensifies, striking the wolf instantly until it falls onto the ground on its stomach right beside you with a whimper.

You instantly turn, ignoring the pricking sensation your arm was giving you when the wolf’s golden eyes shut, twisted with pain until they open to meet your own. The eyes enlarge and the wolf breathes at an abnormal rate, shaking its limbs as it attempts to push itself onto its paws again.

You have no time to react when a pained howl leaves the wolf as a sword slashes across its back, form completely slumping down onto the ground with a strangled whine.

“This is what he deserves.” The Elder whispers, staring down at both of you with disappointed eyes.

“He doesn’t deserve any of this!” You cry out, “This is between you and me.”

“How could I forget?” The bronze sword is pointed towards you, “This is the end, my child.”

She raises her sword and for a moment, you just smile. Being aware that your time spent as a slayer was utterly precious, that becoming friends with Jungkook is a moment you would want to repeat a thousand of times over and over again and eventually coming to find out his identity had guided you to become aware of a hidden truth you were always shadowed away from. Even in the end, all you simply wish is to set things right, and if there was a way Jungkook could escape and live, you would take that chance within a heartbeat.

But of course, you were going to stay by his side no matter what.

Her sword clangs onto the ground when a harsh gasp escapes her throat, an angry pool of blood forming onto the ground. Her knees buckle, staring at you astonished when a silver sword pierces through her form, being wielded with your opposite hand – a clawed hand that was covered in fur.

Your smile grows, watching her confused eyes when it’s taking every drop of energy out you to hold this form. Your last words to her are in the form of a whisper, wet silver and gold eyes staring back at her one final time.

“Goodbye, Mother.”

Her form falls down harshly onto the ground with a thud, silver eyes having the life draining out of them when she collapses. You take a deep inhale, sitting up and staring at your sword wielding hand, now trembling when the blade slips out of your hands and clatters onto the ground, tears viciously streaming down your cheeks.

A bundle of brown fur soon circles around you, enveloping your shuddering form when you snatch your eyes away from the corpse. You screw your eyes shut, burying them within your hands as the tainted remainders of your sword fade away with a flash.

The room is left with a deep silence, the sound of your violent sobs being the only tone resonating off the walls.

[alectology-archive]

Chapter 1

I’m already tired.

Had Tigris given up on the old thing [his father’s shirt] and braved the black market in some last-ditch effort to find him proper clothing? And what on earth would she possess worth trading for it? Only one thing — herself — and the house of Snow had not yet fallen that far. Or was it falling now as he salted the cabbage?

He thought of people putting a price on her. With her long, pointed nose and skinny body, Tigris was no great beauty, but she had a sweetness, a vulnerability that invited abuse. She would find takers, if she had a mind to. The idea made him feel sick and helpless and, consequently, disgusted with himself.

1.

THIS woman is Tigris. You’re telling me that they’re cousins???

2. Snow doesn’t mind Tigris selling her body just so that he can wear a nice shirt to the Reaping ceremony. Why can’t he sell his own body if he’s that desperate? Male prostitution exists and is pretty popular in Panem; Finnick is proof of that.

3. Why is he talking about Tigris’s body like that? They’re c o u s i n s. 

_______________________________________________

Perhaps Tigris had gone to ask help from her employer, Fabricia Whatnot, a woman as ridiculous as her name but with a certain talent for derivative fashion.

~ 🙄~

_______________________________________________

Some exposition about how nothing was really “waste” during the war because resources were so scarce. But now that the war was over it was getting back “in fashion” because people could afford it. It’s nice. 

_______________________________________________

... A tendency toward obsession was hardwired into his brain and would likely be his undoing if he couldn’t learn to outsmart it.

Okay, this one definitely alludes to his obsession with Katniss. Cool line, because it characterises him really well and simultaneously functions as a throwback.

_______________________________________________

Crazy old woman, still clinging to the prewar days.

Shouldn’t it be pre-war? Unless it’s become a slang, of sorts, I guess. 

_______________________________________________

The cabbage began to boil, filling the kitchen with the smell of poverty. 

Nice.

_______________________________________________

“Satyria Click” is the name of a professor sksksk

_______________________________________________

“Snow lands on top!” Tigris crowed. It was the saying that had gotten them through the war, when it was a constant struggle not to be ground into the earth.

Cool sentence and clever play on words.

_______________________________________________

I know this is a teenage Snow but I really wish he was a little less excited and teen-like. I cannot recognise him.

_______________________________________________

There’s some nice bit of Snow being a calculating little shit and that is appreciated.

_______________________________________________

These names are really ridiculous: Professor Agrippina Sickle? Sejanus Plinth? Anyway I’m glad that Professor Sickle is a female gymnasium teacher WITH “MUSCULAR SHOULDERS”. Imagine me side-eyeing Red Rising here 👀

_______________________________________________

... but his father’s lavish donation had allowed for much of the school’s postwar reconstruction.

Isn’t it post-war??? Not postwar???

_______________________________________________

Snow being more of a shit (and I refuse to try typing Coriolanus because it gives me a headache)

“That’s a fine polish job,” Coriolanus replied [in reference to polishing a shield]. Sejanus tensed at the implication that he was, what, a suck-up? A lackey? Coriolanus let it build a moment before he diffused it. “I should know. I do all Satyria’s wine goblets.”

Sejanus relaxed at that. “Really?”

“No, not really. But only because she hasn’t thought of it,” said Coriolanus, seesawing between disdain and camaraderie.

_______________________________________________

Now he's finally beginning to seem more familiar:

The disgrace would kill his grandmother. It would be kinder to toss her out the window of the penthouse. At least that would be quick.

_______________________________________________

Coriolanus followed him to where a special section of chairs, six rows by four, had been set up for the mentors.

Was this necessary information? I’ll stay my judgement until I read more from Snow’s POV but I still feel it’s a little excessive.

_______________________________________________

Dean Casca Highbottom, the man credited with the creation of the Hunger Games, was overseeing the mentor program personally.

Dean Casca Highbottom? HIGHBOTTOM???

_______________________________________________

Summary: It’s reaping day. For the first time mentors are being chosen for the tributes to ensure that the Hunger Games evolved to appeal to audiences. Snow’s family (him, his cousin Tigris, and his grandmother) is destitute because of the war and Snow is therefore horrified when he finds out that the government will start levying taxes for people living in the capital too (in order to help rebuild the city). Tributes are assigned to mentors. Snow gets the district 12 girl.

[mirrorfalls]

The Alchemist When He’s Full of Metal, Vol. 9

(Vol. 1, Vol. 2, Vol. 3, Vol. 4, Vol. 5, Vol. 6, Vol. 7, Vol. 8)

Now we’re getting somewhere.

Since I originally read these volumes some seven or eight years ago, I inevitably remember different things as “high points” on different days. The Tuckers, Armstrong, Greed - all of them, and plenty besides, have drifted into that focus at some point. And drifted out just as fast, because I’m a flighty little shit like that.

But this is one thing I was unequivocally looking forward to rereading: the big everyone-meets-everyone climax at Central.

(The first of many, a friend promises. He better not be exaggerating or I’m flying down south with a large rusty shovel.)

Whenever I crack open a story with a big enough ensemble and a giant web of subplots, I always pore over moments like these, where the author demonstrates they were telling a single story all along and not just throwing in every haphazard idea (or worse, cannibalizing separate outlines that went nowhere). On top of that, it lets the author jam the characters into all kinds of new combos, exploring rich new dynamics for comedy, drama, or both.* Barry - not for the first time - proves especially delightful at seesawing between the two, forcing some momentum into Ling’s so-far-shapeless subplot while offering the just-framed Maria a glimmer of hope right before... well, see above.

Then see below, for all the good it did poor Maria.

Okay, we all know what’s really happened here, right? No need for me to dance around spoilers? Good.

Maria’s burn notice murder-by-Mustang is another of those things I thought wouldn’t be much fun the second time around, and on actual re-read turned out to be more spoiler-proof than that. I do find it annoying how hard Arakawa tries to play Mustang as an ice-cold killer who Might’ve Dun It After All - this is the guy who couldn’t even tell the Elrics about Hughes’ murder exactly one chapter ago - but on the technical side she's skilled enough to anticipate the how-do-we-really-know-that-charbroil-is-Maria? question and slap it down with good ol’ dental records, that most infallible of evidence for cut-rate mysteries and thrillers everywhere. In case that’s not enough, she even gets the In Memoriam omake on it - everyone knows omakes never lie!

And on an emotional level... knowing that Mustang Didn’t Dun It might strip the bells and whistles off, but the thing underneath still works, because our heroes’ reaction is ultimately about Hughes more than Maria. That being a death they never got to see, they can’t pawn the blame onto a convenient Bad Guy like Tucker or Scar - so what can they do, but turn the blame onto themselves and start wondering if their grail is so worth chasing after all?

This, of course, cues some Wise, Understanding Women to pep-talk the boys back on track, because we are still reading a Shonen (there must be one or two where the heroes actually abandon their original quest about a third of the way through, but I haven’t found ‘em yet). I’m a lot less enthusiastic about the execution here; I know Ed and Al are still kids, so they should have someone in their corner, but Winry and Mrs. Hughes playing cheerleader pushes it from sweet to saccharine.

All that said? These are still the five most depressing panels I’ve seen in this manga.

Anyway, it looks like we’re headed for even more uncharted territory next volume, with Ed and Al occupying separate ends of the country (an arrangement that I’ve been told lasts a very long while) while the Homunculi raise all-but-open warfare against Roy’s people. And hey, where did Scar go in all this excitement? Sure hope he’s not headed back to Central... that’d be very, very Bad...

* Unpopular opinion of the day: that Good Omens ended with God immediately mind-whammying everyone into forgetting each other after the Apocalypse-aversion was probably my biggest disappointment with it. At least have them all go out for crepes first!

[bloomingshy]

Maki and Himiko don’t have character development, it’s fake and manipulative character development where the narrative tricks you into thinking they “changed”. When in reality they never change. Maki’s still a unpleasant edgy teenage bitch with a attitude, while Himiko’s still a whiny useless bitch who wasted Tenko’s life and honestly didn’t change outside of coming out of her shell. She doesn’t change her retarded magic shtick and is useless. Shuichi should have remained a sole survivor.

˗ˏˋ  my opinion ˎˊ˗ ೃ  

‧₊˚✧ SPOILER DANGANRONPA V3!!

˗ˏ https://aminoapps.com/c/danganronpa/page/blog/nimiks-uumieis-uifaiiau-c-iaitic-idzie/ERJb_l0VIPuJ4mWpBpvQj625nWk6YjZVadBhG (you need to look because i think, you need understand himiko character).

look dude, Himiko is not useless, in chapter 3,  she was half of the reason we were able to solve the seesaw trick and we did get a consent point from her.

Even if that was just 'luck' it was still useful regardless, and it helped a great ton, to the point I at least consider it a start of turning a new leaf. Let's start with chapter 4, where there is a lot of contrast to what she was like the first 3 class trials, in which she is genuinely speaking her mind, giving her ideas and her considerations as much as she can, one of the examples being her suggesting the toilet paper being the murder weapon which she was right. and, in chap 6 she found secret passage on helping mastermind. and, she being investigated with shuichi to take down the mastermind.

i have to remind you, the way she is because of how she scared and can't trust someone in killing game. she pusses people away because of his past. tenko is whole another reason why himiko being annoyed, because tenko is overbearing and hyperactive so much because of how much she honest about emotion, even himiko don't like being called "cute girl" because she more than that. you need to see their relationship more, the have own flaws. don't blame them on who they are.

about magic you annoyed about, magic is really important for himiko because his master taught her to look and make people being smile because of her magic. magic and mage persona is also coping mechanism for her before express her emotion with the help of tenko, angie and kokichi.

also, to not make tenko and angie die in vain, himiko being useful as possible and being emotional support for his classmates. shuichi also another major of himiko development, look in chap 3 trial when shuichi motivated her to not give up and avenged tenko.

you really rude to call himiko bitch, she still good person in heart, being emotional support with telling jokes to cherr up his classmates, being useful. she is human, she defended herself in chap 4 trial and apologies to maki afterwards. about chap 2, ryoma is dead and himiko being framed, don't you khow how she scared, panic and guilt because can't make his classmates smile and showing someone dead?

himiko is human, make mistake and have grow up. telling jokes to cheer up thought being fail, more expressing emotion, make connection but difficult because of she being closed off and trust issues. ₊˚✧

˚✧ about maki, she is being killing people since being child. but, due to her backstory she protect his friend in orphanage due to his friends is weak and really kind person, so this the reason why she become like this. but, his friends dead because protecting another person from being hit car on accident. maki sacrifice being meaningless. and now, because of the trauma, she being self-degrading because of this. but, his shape personalities being violent due to his job to killing people and "just killing target" is the only thing she khows.

but, she show major delevopment, being useful in investigation on chap 3, motivated and lead people in chap 5 when kaito kidnapped. she showing his caring side thought she have anger issues. i have to remind you, kaito is really important person to maki, so losing him is really hit on maki. she sad and angried because she can't protecting him. saihara is also helping her thought their relationship could been better. you khow this, detective and assassin is "cursed job" in society, you look saihara and maki being traumatized because of this, but due to their experience, they can helping his classmates in class trial. they really good partner. maki being proved to show his caring side through his experience on because she khow dead body and etc. ₊˚✧

himiko, maki and shuichi is really well developed character with their flaws. you need look twice to understand their character. since you said, shuichi is solid survivor. himiko and maki is also solid survivor. the relationship between survivor trio is small between himiko and shuichi. but, maki? the difference and yet similarity on himiko, maki and shuichi have a lot more common than you think.

when you saying shuichi should been solo survivor, you been make disregard of himiko and maki character. do you think shuichi can survive alone? they've been through so much, if you been disrespectful on this character, leave them alone.