#im v fixated and focused on playing all the games

[soo0mi]

🫂 ｡ﾟ⊹ you’ve built a home in my heart — 06. neymar jr #10

:: u got up at 2 am to get some snacks at the convenience store down the street. for your inconvenience, you quietly opened the door to meet a peculiar sight, someone trying to sleep on the floor across the hallway because their roommate has their gf over .. ?

warnings ⚠️ none

word count !! 829 / 0.8k words

incheon, 2:51 pm

knock knock knock — you hurriedly made your way to the door, not wanting riki to wait any longer

“kiki !!!” you quickly greeted him at your door, “really.. a neymar jersey? you literally wanna be me so bad..” you revealed your shirt to him, neymar jr #10

“no, U wanna be ME” he exclaimed “i was waiting for you to change earlier, so im the original here”

“u wanna be like that then, one v one me rn” your cockiness got ahead of you all because you beat minjun, the schools soccer goalee.

to your knowledge, you didn’t know riki was an ace striker, you just knew he was on the team. challenge him to a one v one was one big fucking mistake.

the afternoon sun illuminated the soccer field, casting a golden hue over the green grass. you and riki stood on opposite ends, eyes locked in playful determination. the sound of your laughter and riki’s anticipation filled the air as u prepared to beat the fuck outta him (not rlly)

as the game progressed, you and riki’s connection grew stronger. your movements became synchronized, instincts aligning flawlessly, and, coincidentally, your play styles complimented each other really well. after all, he did coach you how to play

“look over there!” u used the oldest tactic known to man and he STILL fell for it. you took this chance to score a free goal on him. you focused your gaze on the goal, mind set on one thing: scoring. you ran up to the ball and your foot connected with the ball in a powerful strike, its trajectory aimed directly at the goal.

but in an unexpected twist of fate, riki, who was quick to react to your tactic, darted towards the net to intercept the shot. his eyes fixated on the ball, unaware of the collision. the ball hurtled toward riki’s direction.

your heart skipped a beat as you watched the scene unfold agonizingly slow. there was no time to react, no way to alter the aftermath of the play. the ball connected with an audible thud, but instead of finding its intended target, it struck riki’s face

“OHMYFUCKINGGOD” your eyes widened with shock and remorse, quickly making your way towards him, “AREUOKAYIMSOSORRY”

“im okay dw yn, ive had it worse” he comforted you, “its all part of the game”

your expression softened with gratitude, “i fr didnt mean to hit you. i was aiming for the goal, but..”

riki’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he gently patted the top of your head. “next time, maybe just aim a little lower, alr?”

your heart suddenly skipped a beat as riki’s hand gently brushed against your head in a playful gesture. a rush of warmth flooded your cheeks, turning u into a tomato. in that simple act, your composure crumbled, and mind became a whirlwind of emotions. your thoughts stumbled, and words escaped them momentarily as they grappled with the unexpected fluster that coursed through their veins. “o..okay..” it was a tender touch that ignited a storm of fluttering butterflies, leaving you breathless and utterly captivated by the presence of riki

the game resumed but the soccer field had transformed into a backdrop for something much greater — an awakening of emotions and a journey of self-discovery.

with each passing minute, the world around you faded into the background. the field became your sanctuary, where the only thing that mattered was the beating of your heart and the person in front of you. the shared moments, the shared laughter — the bond that extended beyond the field

as you two played, your eyes wandered to riki’s face, captivated by the way his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and determination etched across his face. the intensity of the game mirrored the intensity of your newfound love, planting seeds of something more profound within your heart

in one core moment, you dribbled the ball towards the goal as riki charged forward, attempting to intercept. your eyes met, time stood still as you saw riki in a new light. it was in that moment that your heart fluttered intensely, a sudden realization dawning upon you, your feelings for riki had grown beyond friendship

6:44 pm

as the sun began to set, you and riki met in the middle (y dont u js meet me in the middle 🔥😭), your chests rising and falling with exertion

u locked eyes with riki and the air between you shifted with unspoken words. your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find the courage to voice your ‘good games’

“good game, kiki” you stuttered, “too bad i won eight to two”

“ggs ynnie, and u DEFINITELY won that”

yn..nie? what a cutie..

little did you know that that single game of soccer had set the stage for something new — an exploration of your emotions and a path towards a love that could intertwine your life in beautiful and unexpected ways

riki plz read minjuns comment and dont mjsread the situation 😂🔥

☆ prev || m.list || next — ♡

taglist (open) !! @aernx @namelesssuser @alicesolengg @woon2u @wonsc4tz

[fictionfixations]

spoiler alert: i get SO off topic talking about other stuff. (if you cant tell i like talking. or well expressing my thoughts. anyway its 2 am i can use the excuse of impulse actions from lack of sleep)

i dont even know why im trying when obviously the next update is going to require even more storage and im going to have to drop it (its like 50 gb in actuality but it needs double to like. open it and do SHIt. i dont know this stuff man)

ahghgusihdfiufh (it was worse. ive. deleted a bunch of stuff that i dont play as much.

only games left are Star Rail (which im not dropping. ive poured so much time genuinely invested in story and characters idk what im gonna do when i run out of space to play. maybe cry.), Roblox (i genuinely dont know how much storage its taken, and I don't play it that much but LISTEn it fills a lot of game cravings that i cant play the source cause holy shit my storage.), Osu (the only game i can play without wifi.)

i wanna play the other games on mobile (i used to play star rail on mobile ngl LMFAO then realized 'hey this is fun' and moved to pc after genshin got too big. or maybe i had both at the same time i cant remember now ghreuigh) but uhm. the farthest i get in wuwa on mobile is like the opening loading screen before we see the rovers (it just stops there. even the music stops i think?? ive left it on and did other stuff but nothing happened and its either it wants me to wait super long, or theres just no hope) i did the tutorial for solo leveling arise on mobile but then trying to do literally anything else (like trying to access the menu) kicks me out of the game so then i had to move to pc. genuinely scary game first time around it shut down my pc, and even at lowest graphics kept warning me that 'for smoother gameplay you should have lower graphics' or something so fan on all the time (i have a fan pointed directly at my laptop.) and honestly. im not even that big of a fan of solo leveling why am i here (meilin fisher that is why. anyway i got her. so. shes not even an actual character outside the game??) ive literally only seen the anime and i forgot most of it😭

zzz on my phone is just black screen. it kicks me out. the farthest ive gotten is it asking if i want notifications but it still kicks me out

identity v i cant even download everything i think, i just have it to log in for pc. but uhm. i guess i cant anymore? but also i cant remember if i can still log in through other methods so uh its staying on mobile (to be fair i only got super into it cause of danganronpa collab so)

oh i found whatever it was that was taking 2 gb on desktop LMFAO

no wonder i was so confused on wtf it was

anyway. um. this is very much a shame. cause. i only get so invested in stories in games because im actually playing them. otherwise i cant guarantee im fully focused cause i get distracted so easily. um.

now about mobile storage and everything

uh. i have an iphone 6 pro. no idea if thats bad or not but uh. probably not that great. ? ? idk man idk how it compares to newer phones i want to get a new phone (at least for all the games i cant play on that phone) but then i got an iphone case cause my former one was actually cracked so... its staying (from the zzz website)

so its probably the phone in all honesty thats the issue (people were talking about who they wanted to play when starting the game and i got myself all hyped over ellen so. d'aww.)

and in the case its actually storage.. uh. tough luck. nu carnival is. a gacha game. and i got the character i wanted there, but its more convenient to go through like daily kinda stuff. ..also confession time if yk the difference uh. listen it was a hassle downloading it im not gonna delete it then have to reteach myself how tf to download it again because oh my god

twisted wonderland (aka disney tw LOL) is my OTHER fixation besides star rail. ive gone through all the story (including JP which i dont have cause i cant read it but fan translations for the win) + most event stories (i havent gone through anniversaries, new year sale 2024 JP, and like i think theres a crewel one rn..? or thats just the new card., tapis rouge, playful land, thats it). i love this game. so much.

if i told you ibis paint x used to take i think like so much more space because it still had the stuff since the VERY beginning... anyway idk what to use it for now but if i ever need to edit something...

kinemaster ^

i kinda already talked about identity v

bang dream. i LOVE rhythm games. and pretty designs. and vocaloid. and japanese songs.

in all honesty i lose interest in things so fast and drop them. then i get interested in other things, etc etc. and then i get back to a fixation on, say, rhythm games and wanting to play them a lot. then i can get bored and get interested in like. idk. life simulation(?) games like sims 4. or minecraft specifically the wynncraft server (which is like a fantasy thing..)

which is kind of why i have a bunch of stuff that i dont play often still because one day im gonna want to play it and then go back.

for laptop i just got rid of the games i wasnt interested in playing at the moment so. yeah

anyway if you cant tell i like talking about stuff. and justifying stuff (well its more like it started because i was worried to be judged. ive never been judged over what i like?? only like. once or twice?? that i can recall? but at one point i just started getting in the habit of justifying beforehand for everything after seeing the internet with their pitchforks directed at so many people so. yee.)

off topic. ive checked in on tiktok sometimes. and i just wanna say. how often is it that y'all get comments on old posts that are just variations of 'reminder' or 'remember this' ?? LISTEn the amount of comments that just say "reminder" and THATS IT (bro someone commented 'reminder' TWO times on the SAME post like DAMN. i mean they commented on someone else's comment on that post too with 'reminder' so probably trying to bother someone else but like wHY)

like. i mean. ive posted cringey shit hasnt everyone but it kinda feels like they're trying to shame people? like 'haha remember your past?'

maybe im sensitive. i mean. if this was past me i wouldve probably taken it to heart since yknow its still a work i created, but honestly now its just kinda funny

but idk if anyone else is being bothered by this (i mean. people generally go through old posts and delete ones they dont like right? i kinda dont do that so i mean. maybe yall are better off for that)

just wondering.

[gregmarriage]

just finished danganronpa 2

screaming, crying, throwing up rn

[xianglingslesbian]

oh I'll give u a character alright: Izuki, Kiyoshi, Riko and Aomine <333 technically that's four, but what goes around comes around (I'll keep this circle of love goin forever buddy)

VICCCC ily my man <33 thank u!!! aight putting this under a cut bc it got long

Izuki

Why I like them: izuki’s just overall so amazing! he inspires me to give my best in the stuff i do, and although it sounds a bit silly i try to be a person that he’d be proud of. his puns are hilarious and well-thought-out (as a person who loves words and word jokes, i’m naturally drawn to him lol). they’re also a way to take the heat off the team, he’s so hardworking and never views obstacles as obstacles, rather as hills he must climb to find newer skies. he’s also rather clever and employs his brains to great effect when his body fails him! izuki embodies the meaning of ‘eagle’ in the truest sense - waiting to strike when the time is right and not failing when it is.

Why I don’t: *sweats* can’t really think of a reason i don’t like izuki, at all??? i guess he can overwork himself a lot and tends to keep his true emotions hidden which could lead to misunderstandings between friends (although this is totally headcanon territory lol)... i also didn’t like the ableist comment he passed on hayama (“i’m just glad you weren’t smarter than me”). but i think he can (and will!) grow from that kind of stuff, he is that kind of person so yeah no particular reason for me to dislike him at all

Favorite episode (scene if movie): how dare you make me pick s3 e8 izuki vs kasamatsu, hands down. i know its like cliche or whatever but that moment just told me so much about izuki as a character? he’s willing to do what it takes to win, he’s adaptable and dependable and he doesn’t let shit get him down ever. it’s gorgeous

Favorite season/movie: s3, he got some fantastic moments in there!! although i will say i loved the spotlighting he got in s1 in the seihō match

Favorite line: “Fear isn't a bad thing. There are some things that can only be done by cowards.” this is first of all such a nice thing to say. ‘fear is not bad’ is just... so fucking wise? keep in mind that this boy is 17, i’ve met 30 year olds who are less mature. secondly it feels like izu’s speaking from experience?? like he has a lot to be scared of, i’m sure. particularly of falling behind and being a burden to his teammates. but it’s that ‘cowardice’ that drives him to practice so so hard. that visceral terror of weighing on seirin is what pushes izuki beyond his limits - which is why here he can empathise with furi’s fear, and knows how best to employ it.

Favorite outfit: look i hate last game w/ a passion but that lil tie/shirt/hoodie thing he had going? that was literally so cute. izuki in general has a p great fashion sense but his last game outfit takes the cake <3

OTP: hyuuizu oh my god i could talk for years about them but since this post is gonna be very long i’ll refrain. just. they are perfect they are fucking perfect

Brotp: kiyoizu!! kiyoshi is izuki’s biggest enabler and i love that for him <3

Head Canon: izuki can be very very passive aggressive when he’s angry at someone/sad and gets cold and withdrawn. it’s not fun to experience but tbh if you upset him you probably deserve it

Unpopular opinion: izuki should’ve been naturally better in canon. it’s not fair to shaft him and give the ‘trier’ thing off to himuro. that being said i am p happy with who he is as a person

A wish: i want to know how izuki felt after middle school! izuki’s and riko’s backstory focuses so much on hyuuga its dumb >:( he also would’ve been demoralised but he didn’t quit bball and i would like to know his thought process!

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: i. uh. i guess izu quitting basketball. because i genuinely cannot see that happening. it brings him so much joy, he should never stop cold turkey. i can imagine old man izuki hobbling about a court giving little kids pointers and making them laugh T-T

5 words to best describe them: “big brain caffeine-powered clown baby” 

My nickname for them: babyzuki/izu/shunshun

Kiyoshi

Why I like them: lots of reasons! kiyoshi is an admirable person. he’s strong, yet friendly and gentle, and he loves his team above all else, which i just find beautiful. i find his manipulative side also pretty cool, bc it shows off how multifaceted he is.

Why I don’t: this is more of a fandom reason but i really dislike how kiyoshi is always said to have had the greatest impact in hyuuga’s story. he badgered and manipulated hyuuga, and while some may argue hyuuga needed that push, it only worked bc hyuuga had had time to think about shit. he’d also been given space by riko and izuki (two integral parts of his life whom the fandom looooves to sideline for uwu kiyo//hyuu). 

Favorite episode (scene if movie): yousen match (can’t pick the episodes)! i loved the backstory we got for kiyo vs mura and i loved how kiyoshi was willing to smile and play but also refused to lose. he truly stole the show despite kagami being the one to finally take down murasakibara, it was gorgeous <3

Favorite season/movie: s2 for sure. kiyoshi wasn’t allowed to shine much after yousen imo - all the focus was on hyuuga kagami and kuroko, and to a lesser extent izuki. not complaining, but yeah

Favorite line: “Let’s go have some fun.” i know it’s kinda cliche but i do love how kiyoshi’s always thinking about playing a good game and enjoying basketball. he wants to play because he loves it and as someone who loves a sport as much as kiyoshi loves b-ball, that love is so poignant and tender

Favorite outfit: practice clothes! kiyoshi looks great in pink <3

OTP: kiyohana. hateshipping amirite ;)

Brotp: kiyohyuu! i love them as friends so so much <3

Head Canon: kiyoshi is half-iranian on his mother’s side and is muslim. i won’t say too much because i am not muslim myself, i need to do more research into this but i’ve had this headcanon for quite a while now!

Unpopular opinion: he should be bullied more for the fact that his canon power is having yaoi hands

A wish: kiyo finds something he loves as much as b-ball. he can’t canonically play at this level again, so if he found another sport/competition/anything, it’d be amazing

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: he should never become demoralised. kiyoshi at heart is a dreamer, so let him dream, let him look towards tomorrow with a smile always

5 words to best describe them: “useless dreamy dumbass cheerleader clown”

My nickname for them: kiyoyo, bc my feelings about him have yo-yoed a lot lmao

Riko

Why I like them: im a lesbian, next. /j i love her because she’s so tenacious and driven. yet she’s also kind and gentle, and never loses her humanity. she cares, and she cares hard. she’s so fucking smart too like... coaching a hs basketball team at 17 against players of NBA calibre and making them win? i could never. seirin without riko is nothing.

Why I don’t: i dont like the constant slapstick of her beating up her boys. also, i dislike how the narrative forces her to act ‘feminine’ and then has the boys think of it as nothing. like first of all if someone like her offered me a kiss i would so take 100, and secondly... why is a girl’s worth so tied to her femininity? it’s awful

Favorite episode (scene if movie): her sending in furi vs kaijō, early in s3. it was an exceedingly smart move that could have only come from her knowing her players’ strengths and weaknesses intimately, and being a brilliant coach. just amazing <3

Favorite season/movie: all of them! riko has some amazing moments each season, so i can’t really pick

Favorite line: “Humans grow. Don't act like you understand when you don't even realize that!” here, riko knows and knows well that she is in her element. momoi might have the data, but riko understands adaptability and knows how to predict stuff. in that way, one can draw parallels between takao vs izuki and momoi vs riko: takao and momoi are recon experts, whereas riko and izuki are strategists. momoi uses raw data; riko manipulates the data to her advantage

Favorite outfit: idk if this is exactly an outfit but her glasses are so cute oh my gosh. (i’d kill to see her in a leather jacket tho)

OTP: rikomomo!!! i’m 100% sure that momoi’s fixation w/riko’s boobs is just... repressed lesbian sentiments. also sports girlfriends gimme

Brotp: hyuuizuriko. i hc that hyuuizu were tgt since elementary school and riko joined them in middle school so... childhood friends feels!

Head Canon: riko knows how to shoot a gun. her father owns one so it makes sense

Unpopular opinion: riko does not need to have bigger boobs in fanart. please stop sexualising a 17 year old girl

A wish: white suit riko please

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: her ever leaving behind sports in any way shape or form. it’s her thing. in the same vein, she should never have to change herself or become more traditionally feminine to be ‘appealing’

5 words to best describe them: perfect perfect perfect perfect perfect

My nickname for them: ai/riri

Aomine

Why I like them: aomine is just a pure, hurting young man that deserves help. he’s passionate, and his fire died down out of no fault of his own. that fire’s reignition through kagami is one of my favorite scenes <3

Why I don’t: he’s perverted as hell and i dislike that. it plays into the ‘brutish dark-skinned pervert’ stereotype which is yikes. also i thought we were done with pervs in anime

Favorite episode (scene if movie): s2 seirin v touou when kagami enters the zone!! aomine’s finally happy and it’s so amazing to watch <3

Favorite season/movie: s2, he finally got happiness and peace of mind

Favorite line: “You’re the best!” there’s just so much of pure joy in this line. he’s so so beside himself that he finally has someone he won’t destroy. kagami sees aomine the person, and that person is so happy, it’s beautiful

Favorite outfit: the leather jacket from the finale lmaooo he looked so cute

OTP: AOKAGA BABY i could write an essay tbh

Brotp: aomomo!! theyre such good friends and bi/lesbian solidarity too!

Head Canon: aomine cannot dance. he has stepped on kagami’s feet multiple times. he has also attempted to twerk when drunk. kuroko recorded the whole thing and uses it as blackmail in case the puppy eyes and “but aomine-kun you didn’t fist bump me back” don’t work

Unpopular opinion: more a fandom thing, but you all need to stop making aomine the aggressive/possessive top/‘seme’. it’s racist as fuck

A wish: aomine goes pro. it’ll be amazing for him, a huge challenge and kagami will be there too so its a win-win ;)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: he quits again/b-ball loses its allure. aomine at heart is someone who needs passion to drive him so i just want that passion to always burn bright within him

5 words to best describe them: “bastard baby needs a hug”

My nickname for them: dai-chan, momoi rubbed off on me

[aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaoldretired]

alrighty! im gonna talk about my two new dr!ocs and some updates on sheon’s whole thing. remember they don’t have names yet adkaljasdkfa

SURVIVOR: the ultimate jazz singer. 

as mentioned, she’s the ultimate jazz singer. pretty subdued personality, but she’s the type of jazz singer who would just. scream into a microphone a la screamin jay hawkins. she is pretty neutral/friendly but disconnected in the prologue/first chapter/second chapter. she gets more jittery as the interactions go on. but once you get to the post-fte section of chapter two, that night she actually tries to kill the protag. at this point its revealed her big Angsty Backstory is she got involved with drugs through the music scene and is currently suffering withdrawal symptoms and is Super desperate (something ive seen a lot with my co-musicians and its not good) big breakdown, really delirious, will eventually be talked off the ledge and calmed down. kind of like if sayaka was actually calmed down in thh chap 1

just so happens that during the night whoopsy someone else was killed. so you two have an alibi but to reveal it means you tell everyone about her issues. either there might be a lying feature like in drv3 to cover, or you tell the truth and end up isolating her. for chapter three and most of four she will keep her distance from the protag bc she’s uncomfortable but will eventually reach out to be friends again after chap 4 execution. 

is generally pretty useful during trials, tends to be a person who tries to help calm down more emotional students and look at things logically. is good at trying to calm down the blackened once the protag catches their bluff bc she understands what its like to be desperate. she does, however, cry during/after every punishment. tells others not to speak poorly of their executed classmates. 

she compulsively chews gum, and one of her favorite gifts would be gum. jokes about having an oral fixation. during school mode she might joke about singing love songs but being so awkward about it in real life. really likes dogs, has a dog plushie in her room. 

a first two fte will focus on her health/wellbeing. the third she’ll ask to not talk about that anymore and the next three are just about general stuff. the final one she’ll basically go a little further into detail but the moral of her story is like, she’s not a bad person for doing what she did, no one is. she’s just a person. and it cn happen to anymore.

dresses in clothes more inspired by late mod/early 70s fashion. hoestly im seeing like a turtleneck/pantsuit combo. short curly hair. big heavy under eyelashes. 

MASTERMIND: the ultimate drag racer (ultimate cruiser)

ok but I LOVE him. personality wise he’s the story’s anxious character, think closer in personality to chap 1 shuichi. quiet, skittish, easily flustered, sometimes cracks jokes that fall flat. he’s framed for the chap 1 murder (someone died in a go kart accident, its assumed he sabotaged the other car, his argument is why would he kill someone in a race in front of all his classmates?) the protag obviously works hard to prove he’s innocent. after the execution he makes a promise to the protag that he owes him one big time, and while it seems innocent at the time, the wording should have like. a slight suspicious undertone. 

he’ll investigate weirder areas of the school instead of practical (sometimes he has clues sometimes not) and if there’s ever a mechanical question for a trial, you’ll generally ask him for clarification. he’s not very trusting of others and is often the one to accuse others/bring the information learned in trials back into the real world and make a big deal out of it. for example, he’ll make a big deal about the attempted murder in chap 2, and he’s the one who’s constantly accusing sheon of being a traitor

at first he seems like he’s just anxious, but obviously, he’s the mastermind, and he’s trying to tear the group apart. 

his fte he’s awkward the first few times but he opens up slowly, showing actual comfort/joy around the protag. wants to be close friends. offers to take protag go karting. while their personality is pretty awkward most of the time, there are flashes of an adrenaline junky every now and then especially when talking about cars, where he seems so full of life and drive it’s almost scary. very competitive during these times, his determination almost taking a sadistic glee when talking about beating others. of course he explains it as his cutthroat sport, but ya know...mastermind. instead of saying we’re going to survive he says we’re going to win. friendly towards the others but doesn’t really care about them focused on protag. is consciously trying to seperate protag from sheon.

for a mastermind he’s actually quite the empath and grows attached to his classmates, which he actually takes pleasure in the amount of despair he feels after each of their executions. reason behind the game is the adrenaline rush he feels, never has felt more alive than on despair. he discovered the rush the first time he got in a car accident, and the moments before his crash where like pure bliss. he wanted to let everyone else feel his feverish joy, and talks about how everyone has enjoyed this, deep down. they’re all getting their sick kicks. breaks the fourth wall and alludes to the fact that the protag (through the player) is having the most fun of all. 

final trial where it’s revealed, he’s still v attached to the protag in like an almost yandere way and wants to follow up on the favor he owes from chap 1. he offers a deal to the protag where if they’re welcome to be their accomplice in all this and get out of the game. protag should push to bargain that everyone can give up their morals, sacrifice themselves to despair, and live as the mastermind’s accomplice in exchange for ending the killing game. 

eventually, he’ll agree, but only if the group decides one life among them to sacrifice for no other reason than to kill an innocent friend. the way to get to the correct ending is to choose yourself which will like invalidate the deal. protag ends up dying and everyone else lives. leaves the mastermind in a despair, but for the first time, he does not derive any pleasure. 

takes a LOT OF GLEE in admitting he convinced everyone else sheon was the traitor when she was not, everyone else is horrified.

anyways. his school mode/love mode events show his more likeable side, he can actually be a really cute partner if it weren’t for the part he’s evil but uh. soft sometimes. 

really likes energy drinks. talks about sponsorships. color scheme is like. a black racing suit but his jacket is tied around his waist and he’s wearing a wife beater. tons of accents of neon all over his outfit from like patches and brand deals. backwards hat. blushes easily. has a mullet. i love him. 

“TRAITOR” : SHEON FUKUDA (the ultimate film maker) 

ok so. still antagonistic. but more in the way of pushing your buttons and pointing out your flaws in a trial. like somewhere between antagonist and kirigiri. super chill personality, cracks a lot of jokes, is hardcore struggling with the games and will be open about her mental illness. her fatal flaw is still her martyr complex

is first framed after chap 2 bc of accused of having the ability to direct and oversee a production like this, and from that moment forward no one can trust her and she’s SUPER alienated. she’s still awkwardly trying to be friends/friendly but people act like she’s going to betray them all. tries to prove innocence multiple times going as far as to beginning of chap 3 announce to the group if they need to kill anyone, let it be her so no one else gets hurt and is super transparent about who she is. but this transparency makes people more suspicious. as she goes on she gets more desperate/gallows humor. last convo bfore chap 5 begins she has a vague conversation about with protag about if they fear death. chap 5 would end up being either a suicide or double murder (they killed each other one in attack the other while being defended against) so there’s no execution but monokuma still wants something. its also in this trial that the ultimate drag racer plants evidence taht makes it look like she’s the traitor and is addressed head on. 

a common motif for her is ‘playing the role assigned’ and knowing who she is and who she isn’t. she’s pretty comfortable knowing who she is but expresses unhappiness about being painted a villain. maybe like, three times through the story to this point it’s established as a motif/quirk of fitting a role she’s assigned bc if the protag asks her a question about herself/past/the overall story, she asks the protag a question like well, what do you want 1) 2) and you choose and she’s like. ok. then its _______. same thing here. as she’s finally excused she stares at the protag and is like do you really believe im the traitor? (yes) stares long and hard, somethng sad and defeated in her eyes. ok then. i am.

the trial doesn’t have a punishment originally planned bc the blackened are not alive. but she chooses not to vote and willingly chooses to be punished because everyone else has decided she’s the traitor and she chooses to play along so they can get closure. her last conversation should be about choosing the act of resistance, no matter how convoluted it can be. she doesn’t fear death. the pain sure, but not death. this was her choice to be punished, not the masterminds, and she hopes they lose any glee they take in her suffering because its a sacrifice for hope instead of a death in despair. last request is that she asks for the protag to make sure the manuscripts she wrote during her time are published, the last great work of sheon fukuda.

EXECUTION: CULTURE SHOCK so she wakes up on a soundstage to blinding light. she’s attached with electrodes. monokuma is sitting on a director’s chair with a director’s hat. basically the premise is as the ultimate film maker, she has to recreate different iconic movie scenes and every time she makes a mistake she gets shocked. she keeps on getting thrown into new scenes into the middle of old ones, throwing her off. after a sequence of costume changes/farces she finally collapses in the soundstage. 

beat. she looks up. above the soundstage is a sign that says “congratulations” or something. everyone gasps. she believes she beat it. a single light comes on in center stage prompting her to take a bow. she stumbles over, stands up, and looks into the shadows in the general direction of her classmates. a teleprompter prompts her classmates to clap. she takes glee, soaking in her win, and bows. as she comes up she smiles for a second before a short rings out. she’s shot through the heart. culture shock!

fte are mostly talking about directors/film references and what its like to be a film maker. real dry humor, sometimes talks about deeper stuff. her backstory is that her dad was working for an american embassy so she grew up in america going to art shool, and she feels out of place, despite being a japanese student with the same basic culture as everyone else. sometimes talks about slimeball directors, sometimes talks about missing certain food, loves takling about movies. as a filmmaker she specializes in dark comedy/farce which makes her suspicious of how someone can enjoy writing somethng so twisted

views are very intersectional, a little new agey, but still well put together. clearly a free spirit, very quirky from working in cinema, super dry sense of humor. likes philosophy

really likes blueberry jam. favorite item is somthing blueberry.

after chap 1 trial she expresses to the protag how she can never be the blackened, not just because of murdering one student, but to get away with it, everyone else would be punished instead, and she can’t deal with the blood on her hands. 

is open about her struggles with mental illness and how she was getting help and showing improvement bfore coming here but now she feels herself spiraling and hates it.

values everyone here as good friends, and while she tries to play it off she hates how they’re painting her as a villain. takes every death very personally. 

color scheme is very pastel, and she wears sweat pants and a collared shirt with a light blue robe. you can’t tell if those are pajamas or an outfit. wears rose-colored glasses. all about the aesthetic, just lean so far into film culture with her. personality/feelings towards style are very influenced by the fact she went to an american arts school instead of a japanese school like her peers so every part of her is slightly off/quirky/out-of-touch

she’ll mostly wear the glasses over her eyes, sometimes pushing them down on her nose for emphasis to make eye contact. only her anger sprite (point) shows her taking them off. 

during her execution she pushes them onto her forehead before taking her bow, almost to meet eye to eye. after she’s shot the last frame is them landing on the ground, cracking. 

i love sheon so much

[yeoldontknow]

It Was The Night: 5

Author’s Note: WE FINALLY MET CHANYEOL!! lmao thank you all for coming on this little journey with me. im so sad it’s coming to a close *wails* enjoy!! Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Genre: historical au; drama; suspense; romance Rating: PG Word Count: 2,487

V.

These days, I view our first meeting as little more than a game or an act of pretense, something a child or lonely woman, desperate to be loved, might imagine during their empty and sleepless nights. So distant was he from me that I assumed it all a dream or a trick, spent my evenings imagining perhaps one of the other children had put on a rouse to fill me with hope or, more likely, to embarrass me in the harsh light of day.

Shrouded in darkness, he cleaved desperately to his secret, though I suppose it served the purpose he intended. All his mystery and carefully chosen words fanning the flames of my blood. Brilliant, as always, and tearing straight through to the heart of me, as though he had known me all along. Looking back, I suppose he did.

From that moment, I became plagued by Aeon Smith, by his person and the idea of him. As the days passed, I felt tormented, perpetually ruminating over his existence and the truth of his name. Rather, not a name but a title, similar to that of a soldier. To me, he continued to remain nameless, paradoxically identifiable without an identity, and this only served to bewilder me beyond the comprehension of my imagination.

I am the son.

Infuriating, to know the what of a man before knowing the who. Or rather, no, I find this declaration unfair. In music and in letters, he had done nothing but reveal himself to me - always, he was baring his soul to me, presenting himself as though he were naked, skinned down to the bone to display all his ugliest parts.

Every dissonant chord penned by his quill was an exposure of a flaw, one of his flaws, and I was moved into loving and appreciating them with all of myself. Every major chord was a virtue, and therefore it was easy to adore those pieces, easy to love and understand them, to want them all over me as a slight fall of rain, but it was his dissonance, the anger and wrath of his heart and mind that became the subtle clues I mulled over for weeks on end.

From that night forward, we met weekly, always in the chapel and always under the cover of night. It was not long before the skin of my bare feet became immune to the ice and the cold of the floor, no longer quivering in the chill; not long before I hardly needed a candle to guide my way, eventually only taking it to add a sliver more light to the room in the hopes of seeing his face.

Rarely did he allow himself to lean into it.

My favourite nights were filled with moonlight, nights when the sky was clear of clouds and the moon, unwavering her adoration of his features, made it difficult for him to hide from me. One night delivered me the perfect curvature of his upper lip, pink and swollen, unkissed yet desperate to be so; another, the peak of his ear, glorious and glowing, the redness of the blood beneath his skin flickering in time with light of my candle’s flame.

The night that lingers most in my memory, perfect and immortal, tangible as though it happened not twelve hours previous, was the night he finally got close, close enough for me to see the sleek line of his nose, its mole, its angle, the way in scrunched impishly in disagreement. This moment, this simple gift from the universe, the slant of light along the slope of his nose, said so much more about him than words ever could, I thought.

Most nights, he sat at the organ and I in a pew, eyes scanning the room for signs of him or stray letters, focused yet searching like a child during prayer. Our conversations moved as though they were part of a maze, topics winding through and between music, art, history, sometimes even love. Love, though our words never formed the sentiments of romance, never brought shape to confessions of feelings kept locked tightly away inside our hearts, rather simply breathed life into our affections for philosophy, for music, and even God.

It was our tenth meeting when I arrived in low spirits, feeling tired and feeling somewhat lost, capsizing, perhaps, in a sea of performance exhaustion and unrequited love. With a single wax seal it had become clear to me who he was, the son of our illustrious House owner Monsieur Park, but the colourful details of his existence eluded me. Where one answer was found, more questions seemed to arise, coated with sadness and tragedy. As an heir to a fortune, surely his family would celebrate his existence, and yet, it seemed I was to be the only one who could bear his secret, joining him in fielding its burdensome weight.

As I approached the chapel, I could feel the thickness of the atmosphere, and stifled a cough as I felt my lungs become tight with expectation. There was an air of change and divergence saturating the stones the Opera House, the performance of Aintogona now well established in its run and feeling more like routine rather than a moment of excitement, all of us suddenly eager for new roles, new experiences, new lives to wear upon our flesh. My hands were shaking, taught and strung like the strings of a violin, cracked raw, when I pushed open the chapel doors, letting my fingers graze along the ornate patterns carved into the wood.

Hesitant, trembling, and always aching for him.

That night, he was playing a hymn, slow and filled with mourning, the wail of a broken heart carried within the notes of the bass clef. My angel caressed the nature of grief much the same as he stroked the keys, heavy with a familiar sort of longing that made me close my eyes. For a moment, we remained this way, he playing for me as though he were yearning for my presence and I swaying as though adrift at sea, basking in a reverence that bored its way down into my soul.

‘You’re late.’

There was no error or falter in his fingers as he spoke, his voice moving amongst the notes as though creating a staccato melody. At the sound, I opened my eyes, greedy and wishing to be greeted by the sight of him, but was met only with the elegant line of his shoulder in the moonlight as he moved in time with the music.

Contentious and indignant at his complaint, I dropped my hands to my hips and released a heavy sigh. Looking back, I think I was mostly upset to interrupt the hymn, my voice somehow too ugly to penetrate the din. ‘It could not have been more than a few minutes.’

‘Yes, but I am eager.’ At this, he stopped playing, as though his honesty was a confession meant only for the ears of God. He curled in on himself then, looking more like a lost boy than a man of imposing greatness, and my heart broke for him.

Hope like gold moved about my blood, my tongue licking at the word to fixate on its meaning and implication. But still, I could not see him, not truly, and therefore I could not read his motive.

‘Eager?’ I repeated, somewhat breathless.

‘I am always eager in the anticipation of you,’ he conceded, and it was then that he turned from the organ. The light splayed across the smooth line of his neck and I felt my heart begin to splinter, the sword of longing tearing through the muscle and turning my breath stale.

Feeling somewhat apprehensive, I looked to my feet, studying my arches and the shape of my toes as I spoke. ‘You’re teasing,’ I whispered, wholly unsure he would hear me at all.

At this a low rumble resonated in his chest, the sound almost wolfish and youthful. ‘It is not in my nature to tease.’

Cocking an eyebrow, I smirked. ‘On the contrary,’ I said with a small giggle, ‘I find you to be quite playful.’

‘An insult,’ he laughed, rich and deep, the sound of it echoing around the chapel and into my bones. By this sound alone, I found I was warmed.

‘See?’ I said, biting my lip as I shook my head, slowly and rendered in awe. ‘Even there, your laugh is too gentle. It glides into the mouth, like chocolate from Spain.’

The smallness of my voice turned him curious, even worrisome, had him leaning into the light more than he normally would - just enough for me to see the rich brown of his hair. ‘You seem distant from me.’

Once more, I sighed, brow furrowed. ‘Then come closer,’ I whined, fraught with an unrelenting desire to have and keep him close.

‘No,’ he countered gently, ‘in your eyes you are absent, plagued.’

‘I know who you are.’

The words fell from my lips in a rush, impatient for him to hear them, impatient for him to know I had discerned the truth the moment my fingers stroked the sealing wax of his letter. Perhaps this was the air of change I had sensed throughout the Opera House, the winds of knowledge morphing our relationship from something of an amorphous shape, something youthful and fanciful to something now wholly unrecognizable, contorted beneath the weight of honesty, and forcing us to confront what we both dreaded to know was true.

This, however pure and beautiful this existence was, could no longer continue. 

At that moment, we were both challenged to hold and fondle the concept of purpose - his purpose to move behind walls and mine to be the only one who could know him. I scowled, then, caught between an unwilling acceptance to let the joy of him go and the need to bring him into the light. Perhaps, I was selfish then, though, in the case of him, I cannot say I ever stopped. 

For several moments, silence lingered between us, the sounds of our breaths the only noise that rustled and turned our minds to distractions. Thoughts laid themselves bare behind my eyes, numerous and needy. Did he think me intrusive? Had I been rude? Had I revealed my nature and proved myself unworthy of his presence?

Above me, I heard him shift, leaning over in keen interest and breaking the tension that had started to build. Unmoving, I kept my gaze trained on his black form, eyes trying to prise him from the clutches of darkness.

‘I’d like to hear you say it,’ he said simply, deep voice echoing through the chapel.

With a shaking inhale of breath, I steadied myself and searched within my blood for the lost fragments of my courage. ‘You’re Monsieur Park’s son.’

Simple, I thought, and yet he seemed to make it so unbearably complicated.

Leaning back, his voice came to me as though he were satisfied with my answer. ‘And so you know why I must hide.’

‘The sex of your birth means you have no reason to hide,’ I sighed, suddenly painfully aware of my circumstance and station.

A star I might become, but still the age of my expected marriage and the transformation of my wages to that of a dowry always loomed painfully over my head. At every turn I was reminded of my sex, of the rules and etiquette that came with it. For a moment, I became bitter, saddened that our meetings were all at once tarnished by this implication.

He, a man, a son, desired more than my sex, a regretful daughter, even if he did not want to bear his family’s name.

‘But what of circumstance?’ he questioned with a cock of his head, visible only in the shift of light around his skin.

‘What of it?’ I scoffed. ‘You are an heir to a fortune, an empire. Your family is the heart of the city.’

He matched my tone, sounding almost as though he meant to scold me, though the cadence of his words remained even. ‘Do you think I run from it?’

‘Do you not want it?’ I countered, tone quizzical.

Movement filtered throughout the floorboards of the chapel, his footsteps seeming to carry through the dome of the roof and surrounding me from all sides.

‘Who wouldn’t want this?’ he said, voice suddenly behind me. I turned, then, desperate to catch a glimpse of him. ‘A life such of this?’

Tired of his games, my laugh turned incredulous. ‘You claim to want it yet you scorn it! Why do you turn it away as though it vexes you?’

Behind me once more, towards the front of the chapel, he was close enough that I could hear and feel his breath against my neck. His presence warmed me, a shiver tracing the bones of my spine as I quaked with his nearness. All of my heart and all of my soul wanted to turn, my heart battling against the constricting cage of my chest, but my synapses remained hesitant, wary, unable to break the fantasy of him. I had learned to crave him as a phantasm, and was forced now to witness the reality of him. 

The fact that he was indeed flesh and bone and breathing, seemed too much to bear.

‘What became of Adam and Eve when they disobeyed?’ he whispered, soft and seductive, words laced with the strenuous gravity of symbolism.  

‘They were cast out,’ I said simply, biting my lip as my eyes fluttered shut.

‘Thus I am a thing born of sin.’

His hands fell to my shoulders, his fingers warm and strong. At once, I reclined into him, into his touch, a sigh falling from my lips as my skin began to feel tight around my body. Wings, I thought, were trying to be born from my back, wings of love and desire, but my corporal form prevented me from taking flight beneath his strong hold.

My voice trembled as I spoke, stripping away all my pretenses of rational thought and revealing me as a weak thing, a lustful thing. ‘Aren’t we all?’

‘But what if my father cannot cast himself out?’ he pressed, pulling me back against him and spaying his arms over my hips and stomach. I was trapped against him. Trapped against him and the true nature of his existence.

‘You’re illegitimate,’ I gasped, incredulous.

Against my neck, I felt him nod, his lips giving shape to the words that clarified all my questions.

‘Illegitimate and unwanted.’

Had he only known then how badly I wanted him, how badly I needed him. With his heart beating as a drum against the tense muscles of my back, I resolved then to ensure he felt wanted and desired and needed. Not just by me, by my weary and heavy heart, but by the world.