#i kinda want to write this and expand it

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[robin-with-a-pen]

Okay I’m having ideas I need someone to stop me-

Anyways, so we all know that Chilchuck probably doesn’t have the healthiest relationship with food? Right?

I don’t think he has an eating disorder but more so disordered eating- that hellish middle space, right? I mean “maintaining his body weight at an acceptable level” really sticks out to me

So picture this- my man retires, he doesn’t need to control his weight anymore, no worry about setting off or anything, but he realizes that the unhealthy habits he’s developed over he past ten years are harder to break than he thought

[parkkrys]

Lucerys haunts Aemond. That had to be the only reason why Aemond sees the boy everywhere after Storms end.

But then it doesn't make sense after a while. Aemond sees that the ghost of Lucerys is staring at him with confusion, as if he is trying to remember Aemond, trying to piece together a puzzle.

That night when Aemond falls asleep, Lucerys is there. He only tilts his head as he squints at him and all Aemond could do is stare back.

"I know you. I don't know why or where from, but I know you," Lucerys finally speaks and Aemond frowns.

"Lucerys."

"You're important to me, I can feel it but...." The boy trails off before he shakes his head and places a hand on his forehead, "It's time to wake up."

"Wake up?" Aemond asks and Lucerys only nods before he turns around and walks away. Aemond feels panic crawl up his spine as he reaches out for his nephew.

"Wait Lucerys!"

Next thing Aemond knows he is gasping for air in his bed, Lucerys' name on his lips.

What the fuck was that?

Aemond finds it hard to sleep suddenly, but when he does Lucerys is there. Every time, he has a little bit more of his memory, will ask questions that Lucerys would only know what to ask from their childhood.

One night though, it changes. Lucerys is there, but he looks troubled, as if he knew he shouldn't be there.

"Uncle."

Aemond freezes as he stares at the boy. This time, Lucerys is dressed in furs, his face dirty, hair greasy, but there is fire and determination there.

"Nephew," Aemond breathes.

"You need to find me Uncle. Please, I know you hate me, but I need you to find me."

Aemond was confused as he watches Lucerys take a step back, "Find you? Where?"

"I don't know where, but somewhere North, Aemond. Find me Uncle please, I am begging you," There is a sense of urgency in his voice as Lucerys seems to be walking backwards, farther and farther away from Aemond.

"I will Luke, I promise you. I will find you."

He isn't sure why he swore it, Lucerys was dead afterall, but the smile that Luke sends his way is beautiful.

"I'm holding you to that, now wake up Uncle."

This time when Aemond shoots up in bed, gasping for breath, he knows he has to go North. He has to find Lucerys.

[ghoulysaphomet]

Lazarus pit AU... thing

AU where the lazarus pit effects include hunger for raw meat/flesh, particularly human flesh.

Ras doesn't have an issue with this and feasts upon corpses often to satiate his hunger. Talia is more of a refined palette. Damian, after his dip, is very bothered by this need beneath his skin and later on became a vegetarian. The 'Al Ghul' name is because of this.

Jason, after his dip, experience extreme hunger due to his previous lifestyle and malnourishment. During fights when he was still fresh outta the green goo pit, he frequently tore off flesh from other trainees. Later on he's muzzled. The only one who knows about this at first is Damian.

Due to this, Jason's red hood ensemble (here im thinking of the mask domino combo not the helmet) is a red muzzle instead of half mask. On days where he feels the hunger most, he's wearing the muzzle. Only Damian knows the significance of this and is, to the surprise of the bats, protective of Jay on these days.

During the Titans Tower attack, Jason's mind is engulfed in green and anger with his throat slit and bleeding, and thus when beating on Tim he loses control, tearing and eating flesh from his shoulder and neck junction to speed up the healing of his throat. This causes Jason to never take off the muzzle when near the bats. Damian is the only one who realised what happened later on when he sees the scars. Everyone else, whenever Jason is at the cave years later, keeps hounding him to take off his mask. When Tim asks, Jason and him gets into an argument because why in the world would Tim want Jason to be near him, especially without a muzzle!?

Tim's just like ''tim is like 'first of all you had just had your throat slit and the pit madness came back, second of all id let you do it again without the pit madness'"

n jasons just like jesus freaking christ where is your self preservation instincts im calling dick and kinkshaming you because what-

(last two parts courtesy of my friend arson thst i had to include bcs yeah. tim would)

[dilfhos]

i feel a lot of yall that say they hate mahito are pre -tty comfy on that wagon. pretty sure some of yall would deep down let that him worm-wiggle in ur cooch. would probably let them dozen or so wiggling hands feel on you too. imagine the many touches he could leave with his mouth alone. or ur just scared to admit it and its okay. its okay you refuse to look closely at the chisel denting his torso. at the off guard pretty glances or the hair akin to a dead raccoon’s tail. maybe his luscious lashes fr turn you off or the pathetic way he giggles. its okay. his home isn’t much either, but its honest work if you kick away the rat bones to the other side, then its okay. he won’t be able to defend you either, but if you’re strong enough to be near him that’s okay!

see its okay 😌🧘‍♀️ you’re safe now. put down your pitchfork.

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

The backlash against Frozen, which, from my observation, has cooled down (that isn't a joke, I swear-) quite a bit over the past few years, was less based on the quality of the movie itself and more on the fact that its massive success and reach really overshadowed a lot of other movies that came out prior to it and after it and was getting credited for stuff that had already been done before plenty of times, and in many cases, in those exact movies. This is why, to this day, many fans STILL refuse to give Tangled its props without trying to put Frozen down in some way. In their eyes, Tangled should have gotten the glory and accolades Frozen received, but did not, and that made them quite jealous. Overall, Frozen is far from a bad movie. It's a great movie with a great message, characters, music and does actually deserve the success and recognition it got, and some fans need to stop being so salty about it and uplift their fav movies without putting Frozen down so they get the proper appreciation they deserve as well. Although, yes, the credit this movie got for allegedly introducing themes, archetypes and tropes that had already been seen before in Disney, including movies set in a fairytale world with heroines as the protags, was undoubtedly the most annoying part about its success and is part of the reason why many tried to drag this movie and its main leads.

[youchangedmedestiel]

At first my friend told me there was A LOT of Destiel fics out there when she told me Cas and Dean never kissed in the show. I loved reading about them. I tried wattpad and fanfiction.com first, then I discovered AO3. I realized I preferred how AO3 worked. But then I was frustrated because it's hard to find something you want to read.

So at some point, I started writing alone in my room on my computer what I wanted to read. I thought I knew I'll never post it because I wasn't a writer, so why would I post that? No one would want to read it, so I wrote for myself for a little while, few months I'd say.

But then I thought 'meh it's written maybe I could share it and see how it goes'. So I created an AO3 account (I created my Tumblr blog before that). Then I posted my first fic, then another one and more. Now I've reached 28 and it's not over. I have more drafts on my computer, a loooong list of other ideas.

But I kept telling myself that I won't take part to fandom events because I like writing on my own with no schedules and no pressure. And then I took part to the 5k for 5 May event. My fic is now in the Masterlist.

So I guess never say never. I applies this saying a lot in my life lately, especially with Destiel and how it changed me.

I think I'll never wrote AU fics, but who knows? Even I don't.

[nanamishorecumslut]

Hanahaki disease

~ In which the victim cough flower petals when they suffer from one-side love. This disease can be cured if the beloved returns the feelings (this fealings HAVE to be romantic). If not, the victims die.

☆numbers reported: 6,489,197

★recoverys: 500,000

Gojo Satoru

Infected with the Hanahaki deseas over 4 weeks ago. The symptoms have progressively become worse. If he doesn't take action in a week, the disease will kill him.

For someone who is the strongest, Gojo fealt the weakest in this moment. After a visit to the doctors office for the weird things that were happening to him (that definitely was not normal), the doctor diagnosed him with Hanahaki disease. He knew the person who did this to him,and that was you. From everyone's perspective, you two were really good friends (even you thought so), but satoru didn't see you as a friend. After years of working together, you felt like he was a reliable friend. But Gojo, he actually fell for you. He wanted to be more than friends....All the little things that you would do for him, the time you spent together, and those little comments that made satoru's heart go crazy. He grew warm to all of those actions. After the death of suguru, he thought he'll never find that warmth again, but after some time, the universe sent him an angel of death. An angel that made his life a bit more toleren. But in the end, not everything good lasts forever. Love sure is the biggest curse in this world. Every person is a puppet to the one that holds there heart. If you find the right person, an amazing show will be created. However, if you lack that person, nothing will be good. That was Gojo current situation. He loves you, but you didn't. In his mind, there was only one thought "If I die, I die loving you "

the end :p

[puppyeared]

what if i snapped and made an oc carrd

[maddieandangel]

Had a weird Hollow Knight-related dream a couple days ago, so I decided to draw a major scene I remembered from it dgsgshf

More context will be in the tags, for those interested!

[tricksterlatte]

It always makes me sad whenever stories with hopeful messages or lighthearted moments are sometimes dismissed as unintelligent or weaker than tragedies. Isn't joy and hope what makes a dark journey worthwhile? Not every story needs an unhappy ending to serve as a lesson.

I will forever be a fan of stories that say hey, maybe the world is a rough place, and it will always be this way, but you can make a difference with the people who matter to you. Even if no one else will know, even if no one else will remember, the ones you loved, and who loved you in return, will remember. People who are holding onto you, even at the end of everything else. People who remind you that new beginnings are born from the ashes.

My favorite stories will always end with love, hope, and the sun rising on the horizon after hell and high waters. The world can be so cruel, but we can choose not to be as individuals. Joy is as human as anger and sorrow. Joy is what we reach for when we are at our lowest, whether we realize it or not. We want what was lost back. I love stories where the characters reach the light at the end of the tunnel, emerge on the other side, and are allowed to heal. Even if they’ve done bad things, even if they aren’t perfect, isn’t that true of all of us?

[alectoperdita]

Put That Guy in a Situation Ask Meme/Prompt

41. Panic Attacks

54. Kidnapping

58. Crying

I cannot decide which of these to pick so do whichever you're feeling, if any, (or combine if you want) but I think something with Jou and Hirutani could be cool. And Kaiba or Yugi is of course welcome to show up. Idk I just feel like there's a lot of missed angst potential between Jou and Hirutani

From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game

54. Kidnapping

Sorry, this took me so long.

That manga chapter lives rent-free in my head forever. There's established joukai in the background of this one, but Kaiba is only mentioned and doesn't appear. The main focus of the fic is on Jounouchi and Hirutani's interactions as requested. I hope I was able to do them justice in your mind. It's pretty ambiguous overall but feel free to imagine their past relationship as more than a wannabe gang boss and his lieutenant.

content warning: beating, non-graphic blunt force trauma, homophobic language, implied torture, open/ambiguous ending

---

Clink. Clink CLANG.

It was no use. There was zero give when he tugged, virtually swinging in the breeze like a fish hooked on a line. It accomplished nothing other than straining his already numb arms.

The chains were thick and heavy. They were the industrial kind used on construction sites and heavy machinery; not the sort that Katsuya could break with his bare hands, not unless he developed some new superpower in the next ten seconds. It'd simply tire him out and leave him even more vulnerable than he already was.

Shirtless, barefooted, arms extended over his head, wrists bound in metal and winched on a hook hanging from an exposed steel beam, hoisted until his shoulders pulled at their sockets and his tiptoes treading the concrete floor. This already seemed like it was as bad as this could get.

Or so he thought, until a door creaked open and someone stepped into the cavernous space. He came alone, and while the cheeks were more sunken than before, little else about the face had changed since they rancorously parted ways as young teenagers.

"You," he growled.

Hirutani meandered toward him slowly. His clothing still marked him as a thug, low rent despite the gaudy gold chains and piercings. He didn't stop when he finally reached Katsuya, instead circling around as if to inspect him like a piece of meat. Katsuya stiffened as soon as he left his line of sight, and try as he might, he couldn't twist enough to keep an eye on his captor.

After an interminable length of time, Hirutani stopped in front of him. "Howya doin', Joujou?" he greeted as if they were old friends.

Katsuya saw the move coming from miles away. Hirutani made no attempts to hide his intention. But there wasn't much Katsuya could do except slacken his jaw and neck and roll with the punch.

Copper exploded on his tongue. The sickening crunch echoed. His head snapped backward, and he was left rearing and swinging from the force. It knocked him off his toes, which meant his shoulders screamed as they threatened to dislocate under his own body weight.

Even as his feet scrambled to regain their footing, Katsuya made no sound, though. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

His breath wheezed out of him. Warm droplets splattered his chilly chest. His nose was definitely broken. Lips were probably busted, too. At least he managed to keep his teeth.

"You just had to go for the face first, you sonuvabitch," he spat, expelling a mix of saliva and blood on the concrete just centimeters shy of Hirutani's shoes. 

"It was pissing me off. You always looked better with a bit of blood on ya."

Katsuya bared his teeth. The lower half of his face ran slick, and a long-dormant sensation stirred within his ribcage. Its claws raked his insides. "Yeah? I could say the same about you. Lemme go and I'll show ya."

Hirutani merely hummed. After a beat, he pressed his scorching palm against Katsuya's sternum and pushed. Once again, he was knocked off his feet, flailing wildly as he tried not to rip his arms from their sockets.

Hirutani's laughter echoed through the abandoned warehouse. "Still putting on the tough guy act when I gotcha like this. It's good to know some things don't change."

"Yeah, neither has your ugly ass mug."

In a burst of strength, he clasped the chain overhead and hoisted himself upward, leveraging the momentum to take a swinging kick. His right foot connected with Hirutani's stomach, a solid hit that sent him wheeling back several steps.

It also left Katsuya wide open.

With a shout, Hirutani lunged forward and caught his ankle in his meaty hands. Panic surged through Katsuya's system, but he couldn't free himself in time. Hirutani gave a cruel twist, and an agonized cry clawed out of Katsuya's throat. Abruptly, Hirutani dropped him. Katsuya's foot barely twitched, and white-hot pain seared his leg.

Fuck, he couldn't put weight on his right leg anymore.

Hirutani wasn't done with him either. Blows pelted him. Each knocked the air from his lungs and sent him helplessly swinging in the wind. His shoulders creaked with the chains.

He became a human punching bag.

(Or a yo-yo. He would've laughed if someone was trying to beat the shit out of him.)

By the time Hirutani let up, the other man was breathing harshly. Sweat dripped from his furrowed brows and landed on Katsuya's neck when he wrenched his head back. "This would go a lot easier if you learned your place."

"Fuck you," he gasped, ears ringing.

The world spun. Faster than a tilt-a-whirl. God, he wanted to puke.

The rough hand fell away from his hair. He lolled his head forward, jutting his bloodied chin out. Their eyes locked. Katsuya refused to look away, though his eyes watered from the pain.

A sleazy grin wormed across Hirutani's face. "I'll give you some time to calm down and consider your situation. When I come back, we can have a nice, friendly chat. Like old times."

Katsuya could only fume while Hirutani exited. The sound of clicking heels retreated into the distance until there was only silence and his own labored breathing.

****

The worst thing about being kidnapped—and Katsuya had been captured enough times to say this with relative confidence—was the boredom. Because eventually, his mind numbed like his arms. Just like the rest of his body when the cold settled into his bones. Then, he was left with nothing to do except stare at the same four walls.

Should he be plotting his escape? Absolutely.

For all the good that'd do for him, because he wouldn't get far on that ankle...

Every time he forgot to support himself and leaned too heavily on his right ankle, a searing pain reminded him how momentously he'd screwed up. He was not only a sitting duck. He was a lame one, too.

More uncontrolled shivers wracked his body. The warehouse was neither well-insulated nor heated. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd succumb to hypothermia before whatever sick plans Hirutani had in mind.

There was another reason mind-numbing boredom was preferable. The only other options were his racing thoughts.

How long had he been here? How long had he been knocked out cold beforehand? Would anyone notice him missing? Maybe his co-workers would. Shit, what about Scapegoat? Who was going to feed him? His poor cat didn't deserve to suffer because he was stuck here. And Seto—

A slamming door reverberated off the walls with the volume of thunder. It yanked Jounouchi from the miasma of his dangerous spiraling.

As promised, Hirutani returned.

Katsuya stared long and hard as he approached.

"What's wrong? Didja miss me?" the thug arched his eyebrow.

"Yeah, like foot fungus," Katsuya deadpanned.

"Joujou,"—the old nickname alone made Katsuya want to hurl—"is that any way to talk to an old friend?"

"You got the old part right. Yeesh, ya ever heard of moisturizer? But I guess nothing ages ya like being a useless piece of sh—"

The blow to his stomach left him reeling and dry-heaving.

Shut up, shut up. He could hear Seto's voice hissing in his head.

He was doing everything wrong. He knew he was.

Years ago, when his "boyfriend" status was freshly minted in the public eye, Seto made him sit through a lecture from the head of corporate security about how to act if he was ever kidnapped. The hour-long lecture could be distilled down to three main points: don't make eye contact with the captor and give them the impression you could be a threat; try to foster a personal connection and appeal to their humanity; and make them want to help you.

It was safe to say Katsuya had done the exact opposite.

But this was no random kidnapper. This was Hirutani, and they had a "personal connection" and history neither could erase.

"There you go running that mouth of yours again. I admit it used to be cute when we were kids. Like a yapping dog. At least you had the bite to go with the bark."

Choosing to focus on the floor, Katsuya took several fortifying breaths before he replied, "Cut the crap. Whaddya want with me? If it's money, I ain't got much. You'd get more knocking over a liquor store."

Dirt-splattered shoes edged forward. "I dunno. There's probably someone willing to pay out the nose for ya."

Goosebumps erupted across Katsuya's clammy skin, but he refused to react. Did Hirutani intend to use him to blackmail Seto? Or sell him to a third party for one purpose or another?

"But first, you and I are gonna catch up. Reminisce about the good old days."

Katsuya's breath hitched, but he raised his head to meet Hirutani's gaze dead-on. "There was nothing 'good' 'bout it. The lying, the bullying, the thieving, the fights—it was all a shitshow."

"Doesn't change the fact that you owe me. I took care of ya and ya betrayed me."

"I don't owe ya jack shit! The only one you ever cared about was yourself!" A barking laugh tore out of him. "That's what this is about, ain't it? You're in some kinda trouble and in over your head, so you've decided to use me as an ATM/punching bag combo?"

Hirutani's expression darkened. He had no immediate retort.

Something jagged as shrapnel rattled in Katsuya's chest. "Shit, Hiru, don't tell me I gotcha number there. That's lame, dude."

"Do you think you'd be here today if it wasn't for me? You'd be nothing without me."

"I outgrew you," spat Katsuya. "Moved onto bigger and better things instead of rolling around in the mud you're clearly still stuck in."

Hirutani narrowed his eyes, invaded the scant bubble of personal space Katsuya had in such a situation, and grabbed his jaw in a bruising iron grip. His tar-ridden breath washed over Katsuya's face as he laughed, "Bigger and better, huh? Is that what ya call taking that rich boy's limp dick up your ass? Being Kaiba's pampered little bitch gotta have its perks somewhere."

He bristled. He couldn't say what raised his rankles more: the insinuations about his sex life, which wasn't Hirutani's and anyone else's business, or the casual denigration of his almost decade-long relationship.

"Keep his name out of your mouth," he snarled and bared his teeth.

"Tell me I'm wrong, Jounouchi, cuz it looks to me like you've gone soft."

Hirutani released his chin, only to pinch his midsection. Katsuya resisted squeaking, but he felt the skin distend. His body was different from what it used to be, from what Hirutani remembered from their youth. He was now flabbier and his belly carried a soft curve. Security, stability, and love furnished him with more than skin, bone, and the scrappy muscle needed for survival in between.

Which was not an easy notion for Katsuya to accept, but he had been trying to in recent times. It was not a bad thing. It was not a failing, as Hirutani seemed to suggest with his venomous tone.

Katsuya was more than the beaten dog others had treated him as. He deserved more than scraps.

Hirutani continued, hissing with a seething rage, "You used to be a fighter. You used crack jaws and skulls like peanuts. Now look at you."

If only Hirutani came a tad closer, he could bite the bastard's nose right off.

Instead, Hirutani reeled back, followed by a hocking sound emanating from his throat. Something warm and slimy landed on Katsuya's cheek. It left a gooey trail as it dripped down his chin. He froze, caught between disgust and rage. His fingers curled into fists around the chain he couldn't break.

The sonuvabitch spat on him.

"Pathetic." Hirutani sneered and flashed his yellow-stained teeth. "What? You think your fag boyfriend's coming to your rescue?"

Not anytime soon, unfortunately. Seto was abroad for another week, swamped with business. It might be a day or two before he noticed anything awry. For the first time, he regretted not taking Seto on his offer to accompany him to the tech conference. Las Vegas must be heaven compared to this.

Not that he'd tell Hirutani any of that.

"That's up to you. Y'know Kaiba's a scorched earth kinda guy, right?" He stared down the length of his broken nose at the other man. "If you let me go now, he might kill ya fast. Not me, though. I'd make it last."

Threatening his kidnapper probably topped the list of things he shouldn't do. But Katsuya was too angry to care.

"You act like you and your boy toy are the only ones that can hold a grudge. I got one, too, y'know. And it's with you. You'll be begging me to put you down like a dog before I'm done." Hirutani's eyes gleamed with malice as he peeled something from his waistband.

At first, Katsuya thought it was a gun. But then he recognized it as something that made the pit of his stomach drop. He broke into a cold sweat when he saw the electricity that arced between two metal prongs. Air whooshed out of his lungs, and it didn't come back.

His mind blanked before the taser ever touched his skin. The screams, however, arose loudly and involuntarily.

Read other prompt fill ficlets here

If you wanna read another fic where Hirutani kidnaps both Kaiba and Jounouchi, I highly recommend @chesacakeripper's About to Break. Please let them know how awesome and amazing their fic is.

[winterspiderpurrs]

I don’t have a specific prompt I just want done dirty winterspider goodness please

Not sure if this will scratch the itch. But! Hopefully you still like it!

****************************

The bass was loud in the underground club he was at. Lots of people where dressed up. Some in costumes, some just your generic club outfits. Petere had on a silky unbuttoned long sleeve shirt that was tied up to expose his abs. Had a thick black cat eye make up on, his hair was already wet with sweat.

Peter didn't normally frequent clubs like this, but he was close to his heat and had a lot of pent up energy. He couldn't really spend his heat with anyone who wasn't a super/mutant, spent most of them alone but leading up to his heat he had a lot more control and didn't have to worry about accidentally hurting someone in the heat of the moments.

It was a hassel sneaking off with out being tailed, closer to his heats Mr. Stark gets very protective of him. Happy is normally his shadow until he gets locked up in his room at the tower.

After one round of dancing he decided to take a break. Moving to slide up and lean against the bar. He pulls some cash from his pocket and waves it at the bar tender. He gets a coke with grenadine. Didn't need the alcohol to dull his senses that much. He was here to work off some steam, not to get drunk.

He just finished taking a swig of his drink, resting his chin in his hand when he felt a presence next to him. He turned to look at the person, definitely an alpha. His blue eyes stood out against the smear of black around his eyes. The muzzle around his face, maybe it was part of his outfit, seemed to match. Could be a kink maybe? Worried he may end up mated? Couldn't trust himself maybe? But those muscles...

Peter turned to face the man, he bit his lip for a moment before mustering up his courage.

" Wanna dance? I'm Peter. "

Peter extends his hand out to the other. The other studied Peter for a moment before glancing at his hand before reaching out his metal hand to grab onto Peter's. Giving the strange alpha a small smile, he pulled him onto the dance floor.

They danced for what seemed like hours.

The alpha leaned down to nuzzle up against his scent patch on his neck. This close to his heat, even his patch wouldn't be able to cover up his scent, not fully at least, especially with all the sweat he has worked up dancing. It would be extremely obvious to the alpha he was dancing with that he was attracted to him. Thank goodness he wore special heat underwear under his skinny jeans. He didn't want to be that obvious with how wet he was getting. Not long after, after they switched their dancing position, him leaning back against the Alpha, lightly grinding back against him that the Alpha was lightly pushing him in the direction of the back rooms.

That is where Peter found himself, pants around his ankles, the alpha pounding into him against the bathroom stall. After the knot deflated, Peter was surprised but the sudden coolness behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he realized the Alpha just up and left.

He tried not to feel hurt, his inner omega whining at the loss of a potential mate. His eyes pricked with tears. He shouldn't be bothered, he came to the club to blow off steam and he did. He was still secretly hoping to find someone though.

And its not til later right before the airport fight would of happened. That Steve and Tony were arguing about Bucky. They had just gotten back from another mission when Peter shows up at the tower, he was due for more scent patches that Tony and him worked on.

" Umm is this a bad time Mr.Stark? I can come back later?"

Bucky stares at Peter, before looking at Starka and Steve, then back to Peter. Peter turns to look at the stranger in the room. Frowning a little " Hey... have we met before? You look familiar "

Tony moves to stand between the two to put some distance to separate the two. " No way you could know him kiddo. He is dangerous and needa to be turned in, right Steve?"

Steve sighs and shakes his head " Bucky has done some things, but these recent crimes he is being blamed for wasn't him!"

" Peter...."

The room froze when they heard Bucky say Peter's name. Them all staring at him. Tony makes some faces trying to figure out how Bucky would know. " Why do you know my pups name?"

"Your pup?"

" Shut it capsicle. I'm talking to Mr. International War crimes here... now how do you know his name?"

Bucky glances at Steve, stares at Tony, shifting his stance a little. " The Backroom club..."

Tony turns to look at Peter. He knew he wasn't one for clubs, but he recalls several months where Peter called him to pick him up late one night. The confrontation. The overwhelming smell of Alpha.

" You fucked my kid??? In a dirty ass club?"

[tiredfoxtf]

Small analysis on DR murder mystery no one asked for but I wrote it anyway!

Danganronpa! A colourful series of murder mysteries with a pink tint of blood. The last addition to the series – Danganonpa V3: Killing Harmony – has been around for 7 years now and that makes me automatically feel so old, but hey what’s worse than that is to think that 2019 was 5 years ago now. It’s been half a decade since the start of COVID epidemic and that alone would make someone sick. And during these years I found myself in and out of Danganronpa fandom spaces. Specifically a Fan Danganropa fan spaces, the inception goes crazy on this one. I am a big enthusiast of taking the Danganronpa’s core ideas and shaping them into something new. I don’t really go into actual canonical Danganronpa fandom, because, well, it's a completely different can of worms that I really do not want to deal with. I've had enough discourse these past 5 years in MCYT fandom and am really tired. But that’s a side tangent.

What we are actually here today is to take a peek at what makes the most intriguing part of any Danganronpa game tick – the murder mystery. And as a side hustle we can take a peek on how different characters affect it. And just maybe a structure of the plot itself. (spoilers for mainline dr games ahead)

So, first thing first let’s look at the way a chapter in the main line Danganronpa game is structured, something you guys know very well.

DAILY LIFE

First we have a Daily Life. On the first glance you might think – “What Daily Life has to do with a murder mystery aspect of the mainline game? Isn’t it supposed to be a peaceful time with no murder?”. And on the surface you are right. But Daily Life serves many purposes for the Murder Mystery: Environment, Motive and Social Interaction.

Firstly, set up of the environment. Like props on the stage, rooms and layout of the building or other environment that is introduced in Daily Life will affect the murder in some way. It’s basically Chechov’s Arsenal we’re talking about. If there’s a gun in the first act, it must be shot by the end of the third and if there’s a garbage compactor in the Daily Life it must be used in a murder. Of course as we progress down the chapters and the area of the Killing Game’s grounds grow bigger it gets harder to just keep in mind what happened when and what rooms have what. And mainline DR games really suffer from “we used this room once in one chapter and forgot about it” disease. But in defence of the games, the area they work with is usually so unbelievably huge (especially suffers SDR2). I really don’t blame them for not utilising stuff from previous chapters in new ones. 

But also it’s what is really easy to fix for us, the murder mystery and DR enthusiasts, in our own Danganronpa-like stories. All that needs to be done is to shrink the scale a notch. Instead of opening up a whole new section of buildings or new floors every new chapter, it’s worth opening up a few rooms. It’s also important, listen to me, it’s very important that every new room that is opened is unique in some way. You should not be able to replace it with a room from the previous chapters and you should not be able just get rid of it without significantly changing the plot! It shouldn’t be just a prop that characters alternatively hang out in. This one gets really bad in V3 with the Ultimate Research Labs – most of the labs were not really special and not used at all, which is a pity.

The second thing which is provided to us by Daily Life is a motive. Motive is a really broad term for any event that was planned by the Mastermind or organiser of the Killing Game. It can be Practically anything, but what’s important to keep in mind is that it’s something that someone who Wants murder to happen made. It’s basically a stimuli for a murder however it might present.

 Some of the cannon motives in Danganronpa, especially in the very first game, are very trivial, while the others are kinda weird. In the THH it was the very point that Junko was making – the Ultimates, so called symbols of hope, will actually abandon morals like any other person for such trivial reasons like secrets and money. In SDR2 and V3 they just kinda decided to get crazy with them. The infamous Despair Disease and that Virtual Reality thingy or even the First Blood perk. Because, well, Ultimately both of the games’ Masterminds didn’t have anything to prove with them. One existed to just simply send players into a state of Despair again and the other was a TV show for fun. 

Which leads to this interesting point – the Motives of your Danganronpa-like story should reflect the Mastermind’s ambition or their own motive for making a Killing Game. Also, personally I think it would be nice if every motive was related to the main theme of your story. Since the Mastermind tries to prove something to the cast to “win” over them, the protagonist usually symbolises the opposite idea (ex. Makoto “Hope” vs. Junko “Despair”; Hajime “Future” vs. Izuru & Junko “Past”; Shuichi “Truth” vs. Tsumugi “Lie”), so it would be a great chance to show how Mastermind thinks and how cast and specifically the Protagonist overcomes the motive from the other side of the ideological spectrum. And it works to show the grey area of the spectrum too, but it’s way deeper into themes than into murder mystery itself.

And the final third part that presents in the Daily Life I eloquently named “Social Events”. To clarify, I do not mean like Free Time Events, no. I mean Major Events that were organised by the cast that played into the murder. A lot of people caught on to the importance of this one element of Daily Life, but got stuck on the execution part of it – something I dubbed in my head as “Party Syndrome”. Categorised by the extensive need to write a some sort of party in one too many chapters.

Jokes aside, the Social Events are VERY important for a murder case in every Danganronpa chapter. Basically Social Events is something that characters That Are NOT the Mastermind do that will affect the way the murder will play out. They are often made to be something to combat the Motive or other ways to cope with the reality of being in a killing game. Rarely they are set ups organised by a wannabe killer and when they are, the wannabe killer got beat to it by someone else. Except for all chapter 3 murders. Yeah, one of the absolutely weakest parts of every Dangnronpa games, what a surprise. Not! Absolutely no one is surprised that the most obvious murders have the easiest solution – a person who set the whole thing up. Which is an important lesson – sometimes the thing that makes the most sense is not a good answer for a good murder mystery. 

There’s actually a lot of good examples of Social Events in the mainline DR games that aren’t some party. Like the switch of rooms between Sayaka and Makoto, the sauna challenge between Mondo and Kiyotaka, Kaede’s and Shuchi’s Mastermind investigation, Kaito’s and Shuichi’s training, Insect Meet and Greet (technically. Not a party. Kidnapping). 

A lot of fangans faced this criticism about how weird it is to throw a party in the killing game, which is absolutely completely fair. Whatever your social event is, please remember that your characters in the story feel the weight of death on them. Even the most carefree and borderline delusional ones. Which unless it’s the point, not all and definitely not most of them. Keep it real, ask yourself would YOU approve of such an event in these circumstances? If not, why would it happen anyway? Or come up with other ways to introduce social activity. Remember the worst your characters can be is passive and reactive in lieu of being active and making decisions. 

And that’s about covers Daily Life, in conclusion to the end of the segment I would like to say that Daily Life should highly set up the scene for Deadly Life, they should not exist as two separate entities. Of course when murder happens you are supposed to feel shocked, but to a reader of Danganronpa-like story it’s very obvious that the murders will happen. There’s no point of trying to surprise the audience, they highly expect it. So, set the viewer up properly instead of trying to use an element of shock. But don’t fall into the pit of predictability either. It’s a delicate balance. 

DEADLY LIFE

Before we could go into details of Deadly Life part of Danganronpa Murder Mystery inner workings, I want to make a note of the methods they use to conceal the identity of the killer: time of death, murder scene and murder weapon. Or simplier put: “when?”,” where?” and “how?”.

 On the most rare occasions it’s also “who?” as in “who’s the victim?”, such as in chapter 5 and 6 of THH and chapter 5 of V3, one of the most convoluted chapters of the entire game trilogy. The reason why it’s so rare is because, at its core, DR Killing Game is a closed murder mystery which means we have a set number of characters we know, so it becomes obvious who’s not with us anymore. It’s a really hard trick to pull off to completely disguise a victim to beyond recognition And not make it obvious who is missing from the cast. In THH it’s achieved by “extra body” of a secret sixteenth’s student who was murdered by a mastermind previously, the whole chapter relied on that lack of knowledge and was a set-up by a mastermind to get rid of one of the players. In the V3’s case however the idea was flipped – now it’s a plan of two students working together to confuse the game and break it, which was supposed to result in beating it entirely. The idea of both is pretty clever and it’s what sets these 5th cases apart so much.

But generally the culprit will try to conceal the true time of death, the true murder scene and the true murder weapon to hide their identity. Or for other reasons (ex. Mondo moved Chihiro’s body to Girl’s changing room in order to keep his secret rather than hide a true murder scene). 

You should be aware that no matter how much effort you put into murder, there’s no such thing as a “perfect murder”, there never is. Especially in the DR killing game. The game is NOT fair for the killer, please, understand it. Your killer works alone against a group of innocent students AND against the Mastermind. Mastermind does want to test the participants’ abilities and for them to feel despair of possible looming death. HOWEVER, the mastermind won’t allow the unsolvable. The mastermind wants the game to continue, this is why they provide a case file about a murder. Of course they would leave out some information that would probably reveal the identity of the culprit immediately, but generally the mastermind's goal is to have the innocent party win and win until there’s 2 (or 3, depending on the rules) students remaining. 

Also even if it wasn’t that way, it’s nearly impossible to set up a perfect murder, due to a killer and a victim being flawed. Everyone makes mistakes, especially in a high stress situation as murder.

Now we can move on to Deadly Life.

I would love to divide Deadly Life in three parts: a body discovery, investigation and a trial. Very obvious division, but an effective one at that.

When we talk about Body Discovery I of course mean these things:

When was the body discovered?

Who discovered the body?

What circumstances led to discovering the body?

These things are crucial to understand when you write a body discovery, because Discovering a body is one of the important things for the killer in the DR scenario. Until the body is discovered there will be no trial held, which means the killer has no chance of escape even if they kill somebody. 

When was the body discovered? Time frame. In the killing game time measured a lot like this daytime/nighttime due to having morning and nighttime announcements and some areas being off-limits during night.  Which actually doesn’t matter for Mastermind, I think. Like a lot of rules have literally no effect on the mastermind (like no sleeping outside dormitories). They are made exclusively for the murder mystery part, so guilty students could take advantage of it. When answering this question it’s also important to think “How much time has passed between actual death and the body discovery?” and “Why did it take this long to discover it?” and “Why discovering it at this time would benefit or hinder the killer?”.

Who discovered the body? According to canon DR rules across the trilogy, the body is officially discovered when three non-guilty participants see it. It’s a very special rule to the killing game and stayed a very important part of it across the mainline games. It’s often used to either deduce the killer or prove the innocence of one of the suspects. When you answer this question, think about “Why was it they who discovered the body?” if discovery wasn’t immediate after one person found it why didn’t they tell others?

What circumstances led to discovering the body? Did the group of participants just accidentally stumbled across the body? Did they come looking for this person, because they were missing? Were they doing something unrelated and the body just sort of dropped on them? Did they actively witness death live and where too late to save the person? And most importantly “why is this circumstance important/not important (in case they didn’t do any preparation) to the killer?”

Noticeably every part should include an answer to “Why?”. Killers in DR do not do anything for no reason. BECAUSE IT’S A WASTE OF TIME! If something doesn’t benefit them in some way, do not do it. Very simple. 

The Investigation is a mandatory part of the game where you run around and note down all the clues you can find, as the name suggests. It’s always a convenient amount of time when at least one person finds everything there’s to find physically. The main mistake you can make during the investigation is to give out all the information about the circumstances of a murder. You give out hints, not the whole murder and it’s very important. If your audience solves the murder entirely from investigation alone – you’ve failed to write a mystery. 

Class Trial – the main event of the Deadly Life, where innocent parties try to find the guilty and where the audience should try to puzzle together the whole mystery. During a class trial some new details about the murder should present themselves as we go along. Like for example in my absolute favourite case 4 for SDR2 where we deduce the layout of the funhouse. Something that we couldn’t understand from investigation alone. But it doesn’t have to be anything big like a whole layout of the building. It can be details of someone’s seeing the victim or the killer and realising it at the moment, the details of how some part of the mechanism works, etc. Also it’s the perfect time to catch slip-ups. The DR community do not usually like when something is solved on pure chance of slip-up, so if you plan on using them, make sure that instead of chance, your characters set up a trap for their suspect to fall in. That would look MUCH cooler than if your culprit just gave out too much info by accident.

A danganronpa case always gets solved because it was something specific to a character that only the culprit could have done, but it is not supposed to be obvious from the start.

Also I really want to bring attention to the victims of the case. Victim is an important part of the case WITH the killer. They should play an active part in the murder. This will further the context to the murder and give more mystery. Was the victim doing something to provoke the culprit? Why did the culprit choose this character as their victim? Did they even have a choice? If the victim was strong, how were they overpowered by the culprit? What if they wanted to be murdered? What if they tried to fight off the murderer and lost? Did the victim have habits a culprit took advantage of? All of that WILL directly affect the murder mystery. Make the victim an active character and make it so no one else but this character can be a victim in this case.

FROM START TO FINISH?

The truth is – murder mystery starts with a new chapter, we just do not know it yet. When you start writing a chapter you should already have an idea of who the culprit and victim are and how you want to carry out a murder in this chapter. Because you need to go through several steps and even the first one – level design with it in mind. It's kinda a question of “what came first, a chicken or an egg?”, but instead of “chicken” and “egg” it’s a “murder plan” and “level design”. Say, I can’t exactly tell if the idea of Kirumi using a ropeway that connects the gym window and a window of Ryoma’s lab through the pool came before or after they designed a level like that. And neither do I know how the hell they had an idea to use a confusing building structure of a funhouse from SDR2 as a “secret weapon” to kill a guy. But what I do know, it was set up from the very beginning of the chapters. 

What I do know is, when you already have an idea who the culprit of the case is, try walking them through the chapter as if they were the protagonist. “What made them want to kill now?”, “how did they choose the victim, the timing?”. Construct a “perfect murder” from their POV, divide it into parts and think about what can go wrong? Because something always goes wrong. Maybe rules will affect their plan, or there will be some witnesses the culprit wasn’t expecting. If the whole thing was actually a freak accident – how would they react and improvise? How can you involve other characters into that murder otherwise? 

Just start somewhere and answer your questions “what’s next?” on the way. When you write it it may seem genius and convoluted or maybe on the flip side, too simple and obvious. So my advice is to have a story “beta-testers”. When you finish the draft of a full chapter – send it for a reading to someone who could provide you with feedback on the quality of the mystery. They will tell you if you are being an idiot. If you work completely alone then it gets real hard to judge the story.

[mirrortouchedsea]

⬛⬛⬛ was seven years old when his mother died. He remembers being sad, mourning her sudden loss in the way children process death. He stayed by her bedside as she took her last breath, holding her hand and crying, begging her to stay. She loved him. She had spent her last moments making sure he knew that he wasn’t alone and never would be, as long as he could keep her in his memory. 

He remembers crying out as her casket was closed for the final time, lowered into the ground. Something snapped in him and he was begging her to stay again, begging them to not take her away. 

⬛⬛⬛ didn’t come out of his room for weeks afterwards. He sat in his room, cradling a photo of his mother in his hands. His father would leave food for him and he would eat it, never taking his eyes off the photo. 

So when his father came home after only two months of his mother being dead, ⬛⬛⬛ was not what one would call happy. Even though he’d started going back to school a few weeks ago, he wasn’t ready for someone else to take her place. Nobody else could ever be his mother. 

He got into an argument with his father that night. At seven years old, ⬛⬛⬛ decided that he couldn’t bear to live in a house with a man who could so easily replace the woman he claimed to love. He didn’t know where he was going but he took the clothes on his back, the photo of his mother, and some cash he’d been saving up and just walked out. 

He made his way to the bus stop and got on, thinking about where he would even go. He wasn’t sure he could make his way to his mother’s family on his own, as they lived on the other side of the country, and he definitely didn’t want to see his father’s family. So he stayed on the bus as long as the driver would let him stay. 

Eventually though, he did have to get off. It was sprinkling out, not enough to make him uncomfortable, but it was a sign of heavier rains to come. ⬛⬛⬛ made his way from the bus stop to a restaurant that looked like it was about to close, but still had the lights on and maybe they could give him some shelter from the rain, at least for a while. He stepped inside and stared at the workers cleaning up the dining room. They looked…concerned that a child his age was alone at night, especially in this part of town, one would say.

They asked him what he was doing out, if he lost his parents, if he was from the area. It’s not safe out here for kids like you, they told him. He doesn’t remember responding, but he must have because they shuffled him to the back of the restaurant to their boss and asked what to do with him. None of them could really afford to take a child in but he hadn’t told him where he was from or where his parents were. They suggested calling the police, but ⬛⬛⬛ started crying at the suggestion, not wanting to get them involved. I can’t go home, he told them, my father is a bad person.

The restaurant manager agreed to allow him to stay for a bit, giving him a meal on the grounds that he’d leave by the end of the week. ⬛⬛⬛ agreed, scarfing down the food like it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. 

Over the next few days, ⬛⬛⬛ bid his time by doing dishes, greeting customers, learning to read from the menu. The staff treated him kindly, but they felt distant, unsure of what to do with him, though by the time the weekend came, he hadn’t figured out where he wanted to go. A few of the staff pointed him towards an orphanage in town, but one of the cooks slipped him a one way train ticket to a few cities over, somewhere he could get out of that area, a note attached with directions on where to go to meet someone who would take him in. 

He held the ticket in his hand, scanning it as he walked through the station to the loading area, the note clutched in his hand. ⬛⬛⬛ was practically shaking as he entered the train by himself. A few adults asked if he was okay, if he knew where he was going. Yes, he said, I’m just not used to traveling by myself, but my uncle is going to meet me at my stop. That was a lie he’d rehearsed on the way there but they let him be. He had to fight himself to keep from falling asleep and missing his stop, but he must have succumbed to it at some point, as one of the adults next to him gently shook him awake as they approached his destination. He thanked them and hopped off his seat, getting ready to depart the train car and start his new life. 

He stepped onto the platform and was greeted by a bustling crowd. It was overwhelming to say the least, so many strange people just going about their day. ⬛⬛⬛ made his way to the staircase where someone came up from behind him, introduced himself as the person who would be taking care of the young boy. He could call him “Priest”, as his true name was of little importance. He asked if the young boy had a name, which the boy muttered under his breath. When asked to repeat it, he said he wished to give up his name, as he no longer wanted to be associated with the person who gave it to him. The Priest agreed with him and said they’d find a suitable name for him soon enough. There were many names in the world, but for now he’d be referred to as the Prodigal Son, or simply the Son for short. The Son found this amicable and agreed to the change. He remembers wondering what that meant, as he had never heard of the word “Prodigal” before, but he would come to understand it in due time. 

The Priest taught the Son many things, reading, writing, the history of Japan, things that he remembered being taught in school before his mother passed, but he also taught the Son many other things one would never find in a normal school. The Son learned the art of disguise, impersonation, how to manipulate his voice. Some day, the Priest had told him, he’d be called upon to use his gifts for the greater good. The Son, not knowing any better, accepted this and that his skills would be useful in the future. 

The Son went through many identities in his time studying under the Priest. His hair had been cut, extended, dyed and bleached, his eyes were a dozen different colors and none of them. He could mimic any voice after observing the speaker for ten minutes. He went by many different names, though he always came back to the Son. In due time, he forgot his father entirely, but he carried the last photo of his mother with him in his pocket wherever he went. It made him feel at ease, as if she were watching over him from the afterlife still, protecting him from the harsh realities of the world. The photo had faded with time, the wear and tear on it having almost removed her face entirely, but the Son could still picture it perfectly. It had been burned into his mind on the day he watched her take her last breath.

The Son started University at age 17, younger than many of his peers in Japan, and he graduated at age 20. It hadn’t been easy, but he had honed his skills and developed them on the stage, playing off his talents as being simply that, talent and skill, not something he had used to bring about political upheaval in the past and likely in the future. 

The Son had kept his distance at University though, going by another fake name and only attending the bare minimum of classes and extracurriculars that were required of him by the Priest. He had begun proper vocal training to learn how to sing, something that he had been told would be useful soon, though he had not been given the details, and further developed his voice by participating in several musical performances, though he still remained rather distant from the rest of the cast and crew, exchanging only the bare necessities of pleasantries and making excuses to get out of bonding time outside of scheduled practice hours. 

The Son was a lonely man, and he knew this. He knows this. He is a lonely man. He was about to turn 23 when the Priest finally told him about his newest mission. Do you remember your father, the Priest had asked over the phone. No, replied the Son, not more than I need to, anyway. So you remember you had a father, and he had another wife after you left, the Priest continued. The Son hummed in agreement, Yes I ran away because of her, you know this. Of course I do, but I just wanted to make sure, Anyway did you know he had another son with her? What do you mean by another son? I mean that you are an older brother, and your younger brother needs help. I do not want to speak to anyone else related to that man. Oh but you’ve been training to help your brother, haven’t you, he dreams of being an idol, someone who sings and dances on stage like you. Theater performances and being an idol are two different things. Yes, well it wouldn’t exactly be easy to get you to train to be an idol with no intentions on debuting, so we had to make do. Why should I help him? Out of the love in your heart for your own flesh and blood. I do not consider that old man my father, nor that boy my brother. He has a secret he needs to keep, something I’m sure you’re familiar with of course. What secret? All in due time, Son, will you help him or not? 

The Son refused to meet his brother in person for the first few months, preferring to instead communicate only by phone. He had been studying at Reimei academy, he told him, as part of the idol course. His mother loved idols, loved them so very much and it was the only memory he had of her. The Son understood his brother on that level. During their phone calls, the Son learned about his brother’s rival at the school, a boy by the name of Tatsumi Kazehaya who happened to be in the year above him. Tatsumi Kazehaya was perfect in many ways, something that his brother found infuriating. Why couldn’t he be like that? He lamented in one phone call. The Son told him that some people are simply born with talent, and Kazehaya was one of them. His brother relented and continued to update the Son on his progress. 

Despite the Son knowing his brother’s name, Kaname Tojou, his brother did not know his, instead choosing to refer to him only as “Onii-chan,” a word that grated on his ears. He was not a cute older brother to be looked up to and in fact he’d rather be doing anything else than be there, and yet. He stayed calm. Once Kaname debuted and got on his feet, the Son would fade back into the background as if he never existed. That was the plan, anyway. The Priest had told him that he would be free to do as he pleased away from his watchful eye if everything went according to plan. 

After a year of guiding his brother in the ways of being an idol, the Son wanted to see how he was progressing. Kaname hadn’t said anything about a performance, but since the Son was very good at keeping an ear to the ground, he had found out about a performance between Kaname and Tatsumi to be put on for the entire school. He wasn’t entirely sure what the purpose of that was exactly, but it would be a good time to gauge Kaname’s progress and how well he had followed the Son’s instructions. The Son made his way through the crowd, finding a spot near the front but not where Kaname could see him and he watched the empty stage, waiting for any sign of life.

The projectors came on and a video began playing, a video about the exact secret that the Son had been safeguarding even from his brother. It was a video about Kaname’s mother and how she had ruined the career of one of the best idols that had ever existed in Japan. The energy in the crowd was agitated, vibrating with anger as they waited for the two aspiring idols to take the stage. The Son wanted to run backstage, warn his brother of the impending danger, but could only watch in horror as the curtains raised and the crowd rushed forward. The Son looked on as the two young idols were yanked from the stage, a scream lost to the noise of the crowd, unable to do anything. 

When it was over, he had found himself in the hospital waiting room, pacing the length of it as he went over the potential outcome of the surgery. His brother had suffered greatly, that much was obvious to the Son as they loaded the two boys into the ambulance, but how much damage was done had yet to be seen. 

Someone approached the Prodigal Son while he was pacing and placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Thank you for coming home. 

[ofgentleresolve]

the way i think moving blogs might help with my enthusiasm on here but also not knowing if it would actually help....