#time loop trope

[let-your-chaos-explode]

I Got You, Babe - Chapter 4

Chapter Summary:

Lady Lesso continues to process her current predicament in stages, from confusion, anger, and fear on to acceptance and having a little bit of fun with her circumstances. As she begins to navigate the limitations of her "curse," she also discovers that some things aren't quite the same. And yet, every new path ultimately leads to the same outcome.

Lady Leonora Lesso clenched her eyes tightly against the melodic birdsong that carried through the open window of her tower. 

“No!” She cried out exasperatedly. “I didn’t fall asleep! What kind of hellish curse is this?!”

Lesso sighed and inspected the flesh of her wrist. Pale, unmarked skin was all to be found. She let her body fall back and flop against her mattress as she looked to the ceiling for answers. 

“Maybe this is a gift.” She spoke aloud. “No consequences for any mistakes…and I have time for me for once. I can do all of the things I’ve always wanted to do!”

Her pep talk was interrupted by a series of knocks against her door. Knock knock knock knock. 

“Rise and shine Professor Dovey! It’s a beautiful morning and I am LATE for the students’ return!” Lesso called before Dovey had the chance. 

She hastily rolled out of bed and stumbled to the door, yanking it open to greet the Dean of Good. A slow, shit-eating grin grew upon her face at Dovey’s open-mouthed surprise and closed fist, still poised to knock. 

“You have ten minutes before our school address.” Dovey finally recovered, snapping her mouth closed with a click. 

Her cheeks darkened fetchingly as her eyes roamed, taking in Lesso’s state of undress. Her eyes lingered on the exposed expanse of Lesso’s long legs. Lesso cocked a hip and leaned casually against the door frame. 

Lesso was not ashamed of her body, despite the modesty of her sharp suits and long coats. She just preferred to maintain a professional appearance while at work. As she stood before Dovey clad only in her satin, button-down, long sleeve shirt and shorts, she was hyper-cognizant of the fact that the other woman had never even seen so much as her ankle. Her grin grew wider. This could be fun. 

“If you want me to be on time, I suggest allowing me the privacy to get changed.” Lesso teased slowly, mirth positively dripping from her words. 

Dovey cleared her throat and shook her head slightly, clearly flustered. She gave an irritated snort and huffed as she marched down the hall, refusing to look back. Lesso didn’t shut the door until the fairy godmother had rounded the corner. 

She was determined to make the best of today. Especially if there would be no lasting effects. She readied herself quickly and nearly sprinted across the bridge to the School for Good. Outside the assembly hall, she caught her breath and fixed her hair. 

“It’s showtime.” She whispered, violently slamming open the doors and striding confidently to the main podium. 

“Are you actually on time?” Dovey asked her incredulously.

“Better to start this semester off on a positive note, don’t you think?” She answered coyly. 

Her sharp eyes followed Dovey’s gaze as her large brown eyes flicked from the column of her throat to the exposed flesh of her forearms, and finally down the lines of her tight, pinstripe pants. Lesso was rather enjoying the way the simple exchange from the morning had left the other woman unnerved, and she was glad she had changed her outfit and foregone the long coat. 

Lesso cracked her cane loudly against the podium a few times and put a glowing, purple finger to her larynx, amplifying the volume. 

“Attention future good and evil!” She called over the drone of inane chatter and silence descended upon the hall. 

“Welcome back, welcome back! I hope everyone had the chance to enjoy a restful break away from classes. Today will be an easy day of reorientation. Regularly scheduled classes will resume after breakfast. Please refer back to the schedules that were distributed before break.” 

Dovey looked to her once more, and Lesso couldn’t help the curious tilt of her head. While the core of the message was the same, Dovey’s delivery was distinctly different from the previous trials. 

“Lady Lesso?” Dovey prompted. 

Lesso shook herself out of her thoughts and added, “If you lack personal responsibility, schedules are in the main halls and in your dormitories. Use your eyes, since I can’t be certain any of you were blessed with brains.”

Dovey muffled a bark of laughter into her palm and cleared her throat. “Have a wonderful first day back! You are dismissed!” 

Lesso hustled out the door without a backwards glance. She had somewhere to be. 

At the junction of the main hall, she hid herself in a darkened alcove and waited. At precisely 27 seconds past 8:52 AM, Emma Anemone turned the corner. With a quick flick of Lesso’s finger, a jet of violet crashed into her back, sending her stumbling slightly forward with a yelp. Black ink spread like tentacles from its mark and started to envelop the hideous hues of her formerly pristine dress. 

Lady Lesso did not wait for Anemone’s reaction and, instead, briskly continued her walk to the library. If she skipped breakfast, that would leave her with three hours of solitude for her own enjoyment before the staff meeting. Anemone’s angered shrieks followed her down the hall and gave her a pep to her step. 

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

Lesso had settled down with a stack of books. Her curious nature had led her up and down the seemingly endless rows filled top to bottom with books. She had steadfastly avoided the section on fiction and fairy-tales…having had more than enough of her fill during her aching childhood and subsequent personal experiences with many of the main characters. Still, she knew most of the stories by heart. 

Instead, she had gathered a miscellaneous collection of non-fiction works: art history, cookbooks, Italian for beginners, how to play the cello…

Lesso took her hoard to a secluded alcove she had never noticed before in the back of the library. A small, circular table separated a pair of overstuffed armchairs under a stained glass window. It was welcoming and rather cozy. She couldn’t have been settled for more than twenty minutes before a quiet voice broke through her concentration. 

“I don’t mean to intrude. It’s just, I’ve never seen you here before.”

Lesso tore her eyes from the pages and met the inquisitive stare of Clarissa Dovey. The Fairy Godmother had settled into the opposite chair and looked as if she had been there for a time. 

“How long have you been sitting there?” Lesso questioned incredulously. 

A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of Dovey’s painted lips. “About five or so minutes. You were very engrossed in… How to Waltz: Steps With Confidence, Style, and Ease .”

A delicate brow arched in question and Lesso couldn’t contain the flush that crept up her neck. She slammed the book shut and surreptitiously scooted her stack behind her good leg under the chair. 

“You could have just asked! I would be more than happy to teach you.” Dovey clapped excitedly. 

“Perhaps another time…” Lesso coughed. “Why are you here?”

“Oh! I come here often. I find the library to be a perfect place to get a moment of peace before diving head-first into our duties. And there’s rarely a student to be found! Other than the occasional reader, of course.”

“Often?” She questioned. 

“You’re sitting in my chair, actually.” 

“Finders keepers.” Lesso shot back with a shrug of her shoulders. 

Dovey pulled a golden pocket watch from one of the many folds in her dress and sighed at the time. 

“The staff meeting is set to begin. Would you like to walk with me? You might actually be on time for once.” 

“Or…” Lesso stood, leaning heavily against her cane at the change in position. “You could be late for once and see that the world, in fact, keeps on turning.”

Dovey rolled her eyes good naturedly and set off for the staff room. Lesso followed steadily a few paces behind with a contented smile fighting her usual frown. She refused to fight the chaotic glee at seeing the heads turn as they entered the room together. 

Lady Lesso fell heavily into her usual chair and met the questioning eyes of Emma Anemone. A slow, predatory grin overtook the smile on her face. 

“I like what you’ve done to your dress.” She remarked casually. 

Anemone’s eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. “Do you enjoy pain?” 

“Excuse me? I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about!” 

“I know it was you, Red. The way I see it, is that you must enjoy the havoc you wreak. Why else would you do it, knowing it’s only going to come back at you in some shape or form?” The historian seethed, drawing the attention of the rest of the staff. 

Lesso’s eyes flickered briefly to the others before scoffing mockingly. 

“How sad that little girl inside must be!” Anemone continued. “I remember when you got here, Red. You’re just the same now as you have always been. And some day, you might realize that all the time you have spent making everyone else around feel low, is because that is what you feel! And maybe then you’ll realize that not once has it done anything to make you any better than any other Never who has walked through this school. Maybe, one day, you’ll figure out that there are some of us here that have simply been trying to accompany you along the way. Lest you become as alone and irrelevant as you always reared you would be.”

Lesso’s cane clattered to the stone floor as she launched to her feet and slammed her hands against the table. “Listen here, you airheaded…”

“ENOUGH!” 

Dovey’s hand pushed down roughly against Lesso’s shoulder, forcing her back into her seat. She bit her lip hard to stem any remaining words from raging out of her mouth but complied with the demand. The beat of silence that followed was suffocating. 

“There are other, more important things we are here to discuss than the trivial nit-picking between the two of you.” Dovey hissed as she rounded the corner to her seat, pinning the both of them with a rather harsh glare. 

Silence continued to fill the hall, filled only by the scuffle of shoes against stone, creaking of wood chairs, and uncomfortable coughs. 

“Are there any pressing matters that need to be discussed today? I suddenly find myself longing for a cup of tea before morning classes.” Dovey addressed the room. 

Compared to the chaos of the previous loops, not a single hand was raised. Lesso studied the subdued quiet of the room with an astonished expression. The difference was off-putting. 

“Okayyyyy…” She drew out. “I guess I’ll just do it myself!”

Lesso pointed a silver painted nail at Yuba. 

The gnome dumbly looked around before pointing a finger at himself. “Me?”

“Talk.”

“I don’t…” He stumbled.

“Yuba can’t figure out how to get the students to collaborate effectively. I believe Espada is a misogynistic narcissist who doesn’t know how to adapt his teaching methods to fit each student individually. And Anemone wants to overhaul the curriculum to teach sex education and manners.” 

The beauty teacher opened her mouth to respond but was quickly silenced with the snarled “No!” that came from Lesso’s clenched teeth. 

“Well…that was insightful. ” Dovey said slowly. “Anybody have any suggestions on how to address these, uh, weaknesses?”

Lesso leaned over to whisper in Dovey’s ear. “I bet you a fiver that Beauty Teacher volunteers me for her class.”

Dovey’s quirked lip and short nod was the only indication she had even heard Lesso’s proposition. 

“I think Lady Lesso would be an excellent choice to help in keeping the students under control for the health and education course.” Anemone offered. 

Dovey gaped at her in open disbelief, even as she elbowed the Dean of Evil to cease her cackling. 

“Hell no, I won’t teach the course.” Lesso continued, wiping an errant tear from her eye as she composed herself. 

“Any other suggestions?” Dovey called. 

At the answering silence, the Dean of Good sighed and offered the table a tight smile. 

“I think I’ll sit in on Professor Espada’s class. I might be able to offer some tips on teaching strategies for my Never boys. ” Lesso offered with uncharacteristic altruism. 

“Thank you, Lady Lesso, but I don’t need a babysitter. And I am fully capable of teaching my class myself. I have been doing so for many years.” Espada cut in harshly. 

“Suit yourself.” Lesso sneered. 

“Professor, a fresh set of eyes could only help, not hurt.” Dovey argued gently. “And I think I would like to join as well.”

Both Espada and Lesso turned to her with equal expressions of surprise. 

“Meeting adjourned!” The Ever called cheerily, ignoring the dual stares.  

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

Lesso sat at her desk very much lost in thought. The students in her first period Potions and Poisons class sat diligently studying the texts they found on their desks. The hesitant raising of a small hand broke her attention. 

“Yes?” She answered with obvious irritation. 

The hand fell back quickly to the desk with a muttered, “Nevermind.”

Lesso leaned back into her chair and groaned loudly in frustration. 

“Why are we even here? You can read just as well in your dorms as you can in this godforsaken room. Leave! Before I change my mind.” 

The students hesitated at the command and looked at each other in confusion. 

“I said get out!” She shouted.

Chairs scraped against the floor as the students scrambled to leave. Lesso sighed as the heavy closing of the door echoed in the empty classroom. The familiar headache began to pulse between her eyes. Was this to be a recurring curse as well? She pinched the bridge of her nose tightly, temporarily relieving the incessant pressure. 

The bells of the clock tower chimed noon and Lesso idled for a moment. Did she dare try another attempt at a sociable lunch? It felt like she had already uttered too many syllables on the day, and it had just turned afternoon. Her stomach growled loudly as if to argue with her for even thinking of skipping both breakfast and lunch. She cringed, however, as she thought of the lackluster lunch that awaited her in the dining hall. The cookbooks, she decided, would take priority. Nevertheless, she dragged herself across the bridge and made a beeline for the vacant chair she had occupied on the previous try. To her surprise, Dovey was noticeably absent. A small frown pulled at her lips as her eyes quickly scanned the hall. 

“Looking for someone?” 

“Assessing for threats.” Lesso drawled boredly. 

Anemone leaned across the vacant chair between them with entirely too much interest. 

“Rightly so. I would watch my every step if I dared to pull one over on the person likely most-versed in the history of magic.” 

Lesso’s sharp gaze cut across to eye Anemone from her periphery. 

“Good afternoon Lady Lesso…Emma!” Dovey said brightly as she settled in the chair between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all Clarissa!” Anemone placated with an affectionately placed hand on Dovey’s arm. 

Lesso’s eyes followed the movement and her hands clenched at her side. She suppressed the flare of irrational rage and began to fill her plate with the disappointing lunch offerings. 

“You provided some very helpful information today at the meeting. How did you know?” Dovey asked as she shuffled the food around on her plate with a grimace. 

Lesso hummed noncommittally and shrugged her shoulders. 

Dovey cleared her throat at the stall in conversation and returned her gaze to her tasteless meal. 

“Well, this is awkward.” Emma stated quite clearly from the safety on the other side of Dovey. 

Lesso would have kicked her if she could have reached. Instead, she just glared at her plate and choked down a few more bites of rubbery chicken. Suddenly, she slammed down her cutlery, startling the table, and turned fully to Dovey.

“I don’t know how to do this!” She blurted. 

Dovey looked at her nervously. “Do what?”

“Compliments…pleasantness…conversation.” She listed on her fingers, meeting Anemone’s amused stare over Dovey’s shoulder. 

Dovey’s doe-eyes blinked in confusion. “Are you supposed to?”

It was Lesso’s turn to be confused. Hadn’t Anemone said “yesterday” that these were qualities that Dovey looked for? Her penciled eyebrows pinched in the middle. Why did it matter to her what traits Dovey enjoyed? Why did she want to be these things for her? She shook her head slowly and her red curls swept over her eyes. 

“Well, we all have things to work on! Myself, included.” Dovey said chipperly. 

Lesso looked back to her warily. It was nearly the same response as before, and yet entirely different. This time, Lesso didn’t feel like she failed a test. 

“I think I've had quite enough of today’s lunch. It was rather bland, don’t you think?” She continued, pushing away her plate. “Would you like to join me on the walk to Professor Espada’s class? We have some time, but I would be happy for the company.”

Lesso nodded slowly, not quite trusting the turn of events. She placed her napkin over her plate and stood, catching Anemone’s raised eyebrows. As she turned to follow Dovey, a quick crook of her violet finger surreptitiously sawed off a couple of inches from one of the legs on the historian’s chair. The accompanying yelp of surprise as the chair fell off-balance brought a satisfied grin to her face. 

“One of these days, she’s going to get you back.” Dovey hummed knowingly as they walked through the halls. 

They chose a spot high on the hill to settle down. Lady Lesso let her body fall to the ground and leaned back casually on her elbows while she watched Dovey putter about. Eventually, the Dean of Good conjured a delicate looking cushion and sat daintily, arranging her skirts perfectly symmetrical around her. Lesso hid her endeared smile behind a soft cough. 

“Afraid of a little dirt, princess?” She teased. 

“What’s the point in getting dirty when magic exists?” Dovey shot back. 

Lesso tilted her head in begrudging acknowledgement to the argument before her attention was drawn to the clearing below. 

“Double or nothing, a fight breaks out within the first two minutes.” She smirked slyly. 

Dovey, ever the optimistic Ever, tilted her chin in defiance. “I’m sure Professor Espada has everything under control.”

The Fairy Godmother confidently stuck out her hand to shake on the deal. Lesso took her hand and was mildly taken aback at the warm softness of the other woman’s skin. 

“Triple or nothing, Espada doesn’t do anything to stop any hypothetical fights.” 

She tightened her grip minutely and Dovey responded in kind, sealing the deal with a firm shake. 

“You’re on!”

Dovey let loose a gleaming smile that felt more blinding than the afternoon sun. Lesso found she was hesitant to let her hand go. Dovey pulled away slowly and turned toward the gathering group. Lesso, for her part, clenched her now empty hand that was left tingling. 

Right on cue, the brawl began among the young males of the class. A cheshire grin split her face nearly in two at the astonished look that now adorned Dovey’s. And just as before, Professor Espada let it continue. Lesso held out her hand in silent victory and graciously accepted the bills placed into her palm. 

“I think I’ve seen enough.” Dovey sighed in disappointment. 

“Going to intervene?” Lesso asked distractedly as she thumbed through her winnings. 

“Not today. I believe I need some time to think on this before I make any rash decisions.” 

Dovey stood and cleared away her conjured furniture. Her expression was guarded but noticeably stormy. Lesso put her earnings in her pocket and fumbled for something to say. 

“Look, Dovey, he’s out of his depth. And that’s not even taking into consideration that he refuses to teach any of the girls.”

Dovey’s eyes darkened more, if it were even possible. 

“Look, if you think it would help the student’s…I have a double free period. I could start sitting in on the classes and helping to restructure.” Lesso offered quietly, gesturing to the mess down below. 

Dovey looked down at her with genuine surprise. If she were being honest with herself, which she usually wasn’t, Lesso would say the reaction stung a bit. 

“You would do that?”

Lesso looked away, unable to tolerate the scrutiny. “Yes, of course. It could only benefit my Nevers to have some competent instruction.”

She flinched minutely at the harshness of her own response, but that was all she knew. Sharpness was an effective defensive mechanism. She missed the flash of hurt across the Fairy Godmother’s eyes. 

“Yes, well…that would be more than acceptable.” Dovey answered flatly. “Thank you for accompanying me this afternoon. I do have some paperwork I need to complete, so if you’ll excuse me. Have a good afternoon, Lady Lesso.”

Lesso watched her retreating form until she passed through the castle doors before yanking at her hair in frustration. 

Self-sabotage. Every single goddamn time! What was the fucking point?

She snatched up her discarded cane and began her trek back to the bridge. Might as well go back to the library for the remainder of her free periods. After all, there was a stack of books with her name on it. 

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

It had been hours. Truthfully, Lesso had cast away the rest of her day in the library without any notion of the passing of the time. She had poured over book after book on curses and theories of time travel and come up short, once again. It was certain to be a curse. Why else would she be doomed to relive the same damn day with varying paths to the same damn outcomes? 

She would still be teaching the same routine. She would still be spinning her wheels on the monstrosity of unifying the two schools. And she would still be woefully incompetent at whatever interactions she had with Clarissa Dovey. 

She didn’t even know why she wanted to try in that area. Fucking wish fish making her think that she wanted something so clearly unobtainable. Lesso scoffed harshly and slammed her open book shut, shoving it off the table roughly. 

A Never, falling in love with an Ever…how disgusting. How repulsive. 

And she startled violently.

Nobody had ever said anything about falling in love. 

She launched herself out of the chair and made to leave. Just as she rounded a corner, her shoulder roughly collided with another, sending them crashing to the floor. 

“I thought I might find you here, but that certainly wasn’t the welcome I was expecting.” Dovey groaned from her position on the floor. 

“Storian, Dove! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” Lesso offered a hand and helped the woman to her feet. 

“Dove?” Dovey asked with a pretty blush. 

Embarrassment flooded over Lesso and she sputtered, unable to find the words to take it back. 

“I didn’t see you at dinner.” Dovey redirected. 

Grateful for the escape the Dean of Good provided, Lesso shrugged. “Lost track of time, I suppose. I prefer to eat alone, anyway.”

Dovey looked up at her through her lashes with an indecipherable expression. Lesso shifted her weight uncomfortably underneath the stare. 

“Doesn’t that ever make you feel lonely?” She finally asked. 

Lesso grit her teeth against the unsettling repeat of the same conversation. 

“Nothing I’m not used to.” She finally bit out.

“Well, I appreciated your company today. It was…refreshing. If you ever change your mind, there’s always a seat for you next to me.”

Lesso felt her throat constrict against the emotion desperate to escape. She clenched her eyes tight and gave Dovey a curt nod of acceptance. 

“Don’t stay up too late! You’ll regret it in the morning.” Dovey said softly as she turned to leave. 

“I highly doubt it.” Lesso mumbled under her breath. 

“What was that?” She asked as she came to a stop, looking over her shoulder. 

A burning question flared to life in her chest. 

“How do you always find me?” Lesso called back. 

Dovey turned to face her fully, confusion plain in the pinch of her brows. “What do you mean?”

“You just always seem to know where to look…even if I’m somewhere unexpected. The library isn’t my usual hang-out.” Lesso answered, gesturing to the shelves around them. 

The furrow of Dovey’s brows deepened as she seemed to think about it. “I don’t know. I just felt like I would find you here.”

Her eyes brightened and she shrugged, continuing her exit. 

“Goodnight Lesso!” She called over her shoulder. 

“Goodnight, Dove.” Lesso answered. 

The nickname gave the other woman a slight pause, but she continued onward. Lesso knew she must be on her way to the lake for her ritualistic visit to the wish fish. There would be no nightly stroll to the lake for Lesso tonight. There was no more information the enchanted creatures could give her. And she certainly didn’t want to intrude on Dovey’s “consultation,” whatever that meant. 

No, tonight she would skip the lake. She gathered a few of the untouched books in her free arm and began her trek to her personal chambers. Her eyes burned and she was mentally exhausted. Not to mention the fact that she hadn’t had a drop of alcohol all day and she was oh so thirsty. 

Lesso slowly walked the length of the bridge to her chambers underneath the starry sky. Up above, she watched the shooting star arch into the night. 

Maybe tomorrow would be different. 

Maybe, tomorrow, she would get today right.

Previous Chapter - Chapter 3

[prokopetz]

Well, the good news is that you've broken the time loop.

The bad news is that the reason you've broken the time loop is because whatever force was responsible for maintaining it looked at the shit you did on that particular iteration and thought to itself: "you know what would be really fucked up?"

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

guy who's stuck in a timeloop for so long he stops wanting to leave it. guy who started out trying to escape but slowly grew used to and became comforted by the familiarity of the repeating day. guy who is no longer who he was before the timeloop. guy who is offered a way out and violently refuses it because he can't leave, doesn't want to leave. guy who escapes the timeloop by chance or force or accident and doesn't know how to live anymore. guy who keeps going through motions that don't match the situation and keeps having conversations that aren't actually occurring. guy who panics every time he realizes he can't predict the next instant. guy who left the timeloop but still lives with it.

[orcboxer]

those first couple weeks after escaping a time loop have gotta be disorienting as all fuck. all those little cues that used to tell you what's about to happen are now triggers that cause you to brace for something that isn't coming. you have to relearn the permanence of death -- hell, you have reacquaint yourself with the entire concept of finality altogether. everything keeps changing but it never changes back and you keep having to remind yourself that this is normal. "it won't reset anymore," you echo to yourself, over and over and over, like a broken record, like you're still trapped in a loop, like someone who escaped the time loop but was doomed to bring it into the future with them

[transfemmbeatrice]

time loops where you’re trapped and it keeps resetting and you’re trying to figure out how to escape. vs time loops where you are in control, you keep slamming the reset button in panic because no not yet, no not THIS, trying to find an outcome you can live with. are you the only one who remembers? is it worse if you aren’t? imagine trying to break out of a time loop and discovering the god you’re trying to please is your friend. they keep dragging you back through this because you’re not getting the outcome they want. maybe that’s the same thing you want. maybe it’s not.

[inkyrainstorms]

thinking vaguely of sticking Ford in a time loop. It’d be fun. I mean, not for him, but it’d be fun. I remember a really good fic where Stan got stuck in a time loop the day of the portal accident, and he kept waking up in his car right outside of Ford’s house. If I find it again (it was so so good) I’ll link it.

Sticking Ford in a time loop either when he goes into the portal, or when he gets rescued by Stan. Make him play that day on repeat. Stick him in Weirdmaggedon on repeat? I dunno, actually. I’m just idly pondering time loops, as one does

[whattheskyknows]

Drv3 timeloop (sorta) au where after the 53rd season 'ends', everyone wakes up with their memories of the previous season.

And when I mean everyone, I mean everyone. Every student, Monokuma and the Monokubs

Putting a read more so this post doesn't get obnoxiously long lmao

I think this au would suit multiple protagonists, switching between povs when needed.

Starts with everyone waking up EXTREMELY wary because how the hell did they end up back here?

Kaede notices Shuichi seems extremely on edge. The first thing Shuichi does, of course, is hug Kaede because holy shit, she's alive again. After that he drags her out the classroom and sprints to where Tsumugi should be - only she isn't there

Eventually everyone finds each other inside the dining hall. No one reveals anything at first and things are tense. No one wants to be the first one to admit that something horrible is going on.

However, the moment Shuichi, Maki and Himiko see Tsumugi, they just tackle her

During the chaos, it's Gonta who lets it slip that he doesn't understand why he's back here. Slowly, one by one everyone admits they also remember the previous loop. Reactions vary:

- Rantaro literally has no clue what is going on

- Kaede is unable to look Rantaro in the eye until Shuichi tells her that she's innocent. Kaede is still upset and keeps rubbing her neck

- Ryoma is disappointed that he's back

- Kirumi remains silent and pale after finding out about the truth of the outside world. She also keeps shooting Ryoma guilty looks

- Angie thinks it's a good thing that everyone is okay again, although keeps shooting Korekiyo icy glares

- Tenko is confused but pleased everyone is okay again. Refuses to leave Himiko's side

- Korekiyo is quiet, silently observing everyone

- Gonta is just straight up baffled. Keeps apologising to Miu

- Meanwhile Miu is screaming at Kokichi for daring to plan her murder

- Kokichi remains silent. He knew he was right about there being an audience, but that doesn't mean he's happy

- Kaito is glued to Kokichi's side, keeps asking Kokichi if what he said about hating the killing game was a lie

- Kiibo watches everything unfold, Shuichi is wary if the audience is still influencing him

- Tsumugi is confused why they're all back together

- Survivor trio form the Tsumugi Shirogane hate club

Eventually Monokuma turns up and is like, "I bet you're all wondering why you're here, and also alive again. It's simple. You're all in a simulation."

Shuichi is seething because he thought he had put an end to Danganronpa. He asks Monokuma what the hell is going on.

Monokuma is like, "Oh, the answer is straightforward. You're all technically in a timeloop."

Everyone is confused, especially by how blasé Monokuma is.

It's Tsumugi who asks why they're in a timeloop.

"Because the audience hasn't seen an ending yet that has satisfied them."

Now the room is silent. Kaede has to help Shuichi sits down before his legs give out. Maki and Himiko look like they're going to be sick. Even Tsumugi is taken aback.

Eventually it's Kokichi who asks, "How many loops have we experienced?"

"Well, the previous loop was the 53rd loop, so I suppose that makes this the 54th."

In this au, drv3's ending isn't canon. Yes, there's been 53 seasons, but because there's been 53 seasons, the audience have higher expectations. No one liked the original ending of 53, so Team Danganronpa decided to restart it. And again, the ending didn't satisfy the audience.

So season 53 kept continuing.

Now, it's reached its 54th try.

"We decided you guys should keep your memories of the previous loop this time," Monokuma tells them. "The audience is getting sick of you all introducing yourselves to each other. And it helps spice things up a little, right? Clearly there's a few people here who are hated more than others."

Everyone turns to look at either Tsumugi or Kokichi. Kokichi looks at the floor whilst Tsumugi seems indifferent, almost proud.

Monokuma reveals he remembers each and every loop, and is a little disappointed that the 53rd loop was rejected.

"Honestly, I thought it was the perfect ending for 53, but apparently the audience wasn't satisfied," Monokuma reveals. "Apparently the ending was too 'self-aware.'"

"So... we've played this game... 53 times?" Tenko asks, horrified.

"Are you deaf? I've literally just said that!" Monokuma answers. "Oh yeah, I've got a few new rules to add so things don't get stale."

New rules:

- Rantaro is not allowed to keep any secrets

- Ryoma must use his lab daily

- Tenko isn't allowed to spend more than an hour with Himiko a day (meal times included)

- Angie cannot form a student council

- Kaito cannot call anyone his sidekick

- Kokichi is banned from the hangar (or more specifically, banned from being crushed by the hydraulic press)

- Kiibo must survive until the end of the game at the very least

These rules have been added to keep things fresh. As the seasons went by, the audience noticed a few things didn't change much during every season. Rantaro always remains secretive, meaning he always dies early on. Ryoma never does much. The audience is tired of Tenko sacrificing herself for Himiko every season. The audience is sick of Angie's student council. The audience is tired of Kaito always being the one to help everyone. Kokichi always ends up creating a murder mystery; he's used the hangar and been crushed by the hydraulic press 53 times, they want to see him do something different now.

Monokuma says he'll give the group a motive tomorrow, wanting to give the group a day to wrap their heads around their situation. In actuality, Team Danganronpa are desperately trying to plan a unique motive. They're hoping since everyone has their memories, tensions will rise naturally.

Everyone is dumbfounded, horrified that they've been through so much but remember so little.

The main thing they need to figure out is: what sort of ending will satisfy the audience?

I have dubbed this au 54 Games Played

Anyway this au is basically kinda like a postgame au where instead of everyone waking up and recovering together in a hospital, they wake up inside the academy again.

[seth-whumps]

throw a caretaker in a time loop and force them to watch whumpee die over and over. then take them out of it and put whumpee in minor, nonlethal danger. so that caretaker loses their mind, you understand,

[would-they-break-the-timeloop]

[flocklings]

i'm obsessed with time loops. it's such a tricky thing to pull off, and i have yet to find a story that scratches the itch properly, but the allure of characters being trapped and the grief of being trapped on top of whatever the story is about is so tangible, as humans we mourn the passage of time with nostalgia but time is a promise that despite the good and the bad, time trudges forward--the character of a loop is stripped of that law, and it's a prime environment for angst and terror and it's just so delicious--especially if they never escape, if they accept fate and turn their torment into comfort.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

So in the Octavinelle manga, Yuu is named after the Sanzu river. Now this makes me wonder what afterlife associated name will the next manga Yuu have

I’m not a fan of it, but this could technically support the “Yuu is dead in their original world” theory (especially considering that this is a pattern continued from Yuuken and Yuuka, the previous two manga!Yuus). (Because why do all of their names have connections to the afterlife??? 😭)

Yuuken’s surname, Enma (円満), could be a reference to Yanluo/Emma/Yama (閻魔王), who is the master of hell in both Hinduism and Buddhism. Yuuka’s surname, Hirasaka (比良坂), is the same as that of Yomotsu Hirasaka (黄泉比良坂). In Japanese mythology, this term is used to refer to the boundary between the living world and the underworld. Now we have Yuuta Mito, whose name (when written) is 宥太 三途. The 三途 portion is the same as the “Sanzu River” (三途の川), which is basically the River Styx in Japanese Buddhism.

It is also odd that all three manga!Yuus are also in circumstances where they happened to be at a crosswalk or passing in front of a large vehicle before they are whisked away into Twisted Wonderland (though this could just be the usual isekai trope)… and waking up in a coffin… Now that I think about it, I think Crowley also vaguely implied “parting from the former world” and moving “onto the next one” in the prologue, though to be fair, that statement is so vague it could literally mean anything 🤡

I guess two was a coincidence, but three is a suspicious trend and a concerning pattern… (not to mention they also stay in Ramshackle, where spirits unable to move on also reside.)

Well, I guess if Yuu is dead then it resolves them having to go home because there’s literally nothing for them to return to— 💀Easy solution for not leaving Twisted Wonderland tbh/j

[monobytee]

“Tell me, you fool. If I continue to regress, will I get to ever meet you again?”

VS

“If it's for you, I'll don't mind being trapped in this endless maze forever”

VS

“Even if I know that death is an unchangeable point, I still want to use the last chance to return to the beginning and save you”

WHO WINS 🔥🔥🔥🔥

[fullsaw]

Time loops are like a Panopticon because you never know when the loop will end so you have to act like every loop is your last and will have consequences in the same way a panopticon operates do you understand

[windcarvedlyre]

About to make a terrible mistake

[penvisions]

i'd give anything for more time {jack daniels x f! reader}

Pairing: Jack Daniels x F! Reader (Retired! Agent Whiskey x F! Reader)

Summary: He's nowhere, not really. Stuck in the ambient space of a random coffee shop. Doesn't know what he's looking for, until you walk in.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: angst, yearning, mild language, kissing, time loop weirdness, mentions of heath issues, grief

A/N: i'm gonna be real with y'all, i....struggled with this. had something FAR more angsty outlined for the role-a-trope challenge the moment i got the trope assigned to me. but i'm tired and wanted something a little more happy and this was the result. i hope this is kinda on point @burntheedges. mine was time loop / groundhog day with jack daniels and man i hope i did it justice after all this time!! cause i know this is hella late and i apologize for that

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The coffee shop is bustling, the grinding of beans, the buzz of many voices, the dings and mechanical sounds of the register, of the phones in people’s hands, music over speakers, the steam want of an espresso machine working away.

And Jack is standing in the middle of it all, for what feels like the millionth time.

He’s not real, at least…he doesn’t think he’s real.

The first few times he was here, it seemed like he just appeared amidst the hustle and bustle of a weekday morning. He’s confused, he was just in the middle of a meeting. Asking if he wanted to pick up a job even though he’s retired. He faintly remembers an argument. All heated words and half responses that had turned into forlorn words. His tall legs carrying him out of a door, out of an entryway lined with frames photos and art, a colorful catchall dish by the door containing keys. He had dug them into his palm as the door closed behind him, he looks at it now though there are no marks or redness.

He had left something behind, someone behind. Even if he can’t recall their figure or face.

All he knows is the hectic space he occupies now. Though even when he stands in line to order, resigned to the task he’s spaced out in the middle of doing, he feels like it’s familiar too. No one seems to care that he’s in line, they walk in front of him like he’s not even there. But he lets it go, mind busy with trying to reclaim the events that led him here.

The job he had taken doesn’t even register, he’s unaware if this is a part of it. Staking out, searching for someone, searching for information. He has no clue how he got here, why he’s here or why the cheery barista behind the counter doesn’t seem to hear him when he saunters up to the register to finally place his order.

She steadfastly ignores him, even as he leans over the counter and tips the hat atop his head. He’s in his typical ‘blend in with the civilians’ outfit, tight jeans, nice dark boots that match his leather jacket over a plain white shirt. His amber sunglasses hang from his collar and his belt buckle clinks against the edge of the marble as he leans closer.  His smile falters as she sees right through him and begins to talk to the woman behind him. Easily taking her order and then moving onto the person behind her.

Shoving off from the counter with a frown, he raises a hand to thumb at his bottom lip. Stretching a hand over the small partition between the display case and the public, he snags a pastry. But no words of ‘hey, sir you’ve got to pay for that!’ or other reprimands color the air.

He wanders around the shop, looking for someone out of place. Looking for someone who could be undercover like him. But everything is normal. Everything down to the minutes ticking by on the large clock, the to go cups placed on the pick up counter and then being swept away by impatient hands to the conversations that he begins to sift through with almost burning ears.

Everything is normal.

Except for the fact that he’s invisible.

Just as suddenly as he found himself in the coffee shop, his vision faded, and he was gone from it too.

-

He tries talking to different people, each time he opens his eyes from the abyss that claims him. But no one ever responds, no one acknowledges that he’s a real living and breathing person. And Jack begins to question if he even is anymore…surely he would know if he experienced a painful death as an agent on a mission?

He’s retired now, he thinks so at least. He doesn’t recall anything recent, nothing beyond the countless times he emerges from darkness to find himself in the middle of the coffee shop. This time though, when he realizes where he is there’s a pull in his navel that has him turning on his heels to face the door just as you walk through. Remnants of a heated interaction flare in his memory and he grasps at the tendrils before they fade. But he’s too slow or a loud noise interrupts and sends him spinning in that direction in alarm.

His heart flutters fast, almost painful. His chest twinging in a way a cramped muscle would even as he sees you approach.

“Excuse me, are you in line?” Your voice is sweet like honey, welcoming and making him feel at ease like a soft breeze of air on a summer’s day. He looks around and expects someone else to answer but you repeat the question with a note of concern and when you’re hand reached out to gently touch his he startles- because he can feel the pressure from your touch.

And he’s gaping at you, because finally, someone is acknowledging him.

He shakes his head, unable to form a polite answer and gestures for you to go ahead of him.

“Oh, it’s alright. You look a little off, how about I order with you, and we can have a sit?”

The way your eyes rake over him has his entire body lighting up- you’re gorgeous and sweet and he wants nothing more than to do exactly what you’re suggesting. As you two order, he keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. Wary that this is all fleeting, and he was right to worry because as soon as you both settle into a set of chairs around a table everything fades once again.

-

It happens again and again, the same way. But you look different each time. Different clothing, different hair styling, despite the conversation being the same. Someone who sees him and offers a kind smile and help towards someone who appears far too confused and out of place.

Then one day he notices the wrinkles beside your eyes, the dark circles beneath them. The weight you drop and the chapped, chewed state of your lips. A once polished and bright woman, now appearing ragged and stressed. He decides to ask if you’re okay the next time he comes to consciousness in the coffee shop, but you don’t show up. He’s back to being invisible and loss pangs harshly in his chest.

-

He doesn’t materialize in the coffee shop after that, the scene he’s damned to visit every day the same entry way he had first recalled what seems ages ago. For what seems like years before his steps allow him to cross over into an empty bedroom. It always feels wrong, the blurred photos along the walls tugging at him though they never clear enough for him to see what they depict. He thinks he can make out the faint outline of you, so fresh from his memory in the coffee shop, the same interaction time and time again drilled into him though it doesn’t do a think to take him back there and see you.

How the way he seems to exist altered the moment he wanted to change things up and reach out, to ensure you were okay. He feels less real now that no one is in this setting, a home that feels anything but. Echoes of a life lived and tainted by a dark feeling he can’t shake.

He's allowed to peel back the covers of the bed this time, his body taking up the space in the bed like he belongs there. The other side cold and empty haunting him. He's grateful to be able to softly snooze off instead of darkness consuming him to end the moment.

-

He’s afraid to open his eyes, to see the empty bed beside him. A lonesome reprieve he had settled into the last time he was aware of himself. He had woken peacefully, of his own accord and it was a blessing to not suddenly find himself standing amid blurred photos and a dark entryway.

But he can hear the soft breathing of someone else, can almost feel the weight of their body as it’s almost close enough to touch his own. He’s shifting, eyes flying open and all he feels is euphoria as he sees you fast asleep beside him.

Your face scrunches up, nose wrinkling and hands coming up from underneath covers to rub at your cheeks and forehead. An eye peeks at him from underneath one and he swears his heart stutters.

“How many times I gotta tell you to stop starin’ at me?”

“Couldn’t help it, you’re as beautiful as a fresh morning bathed in early sun.” The warm words spring from him, praise very much real and his fingers itch to reach for you.

“Pfft, Jack.” You groan, though there’s no real annoyance in your tone. It’s bashful, if anything. But its far too early for his poetic waxing, you haven’t even checked the time yet. But based on the darkness behind the curtains, there’s hours yet until its time to rise for the day. Your thoughts stall as he slides across the bed. Arms tangling tightly around your middle and pulling you into him.

“Roll your eyes all you want, but it’s true.” He’s determined for you to know, to hear, to feel seen by him.

“Such a goddamn sap.”

“Yeah,” He breathes, the smile that breaks out over your face making his chest feel light. He recalls the feeling when you had first made eye contact with him in the middle of the coffee shop and warmth blooms in his chest.

The endless cycle of his dreams that give him vertigo and existential dread quickly fading from his mind as he realizes that’s all they were: dreams. Because he’s here with you and the scar you trace over in the center of his chest tells him that it was all a side effect of the sudden palpitations that had taken over his heart and the way his body coped with the healing he struggled to do afterwards.

He had indeed met you in that coffee shop, his mind taking him back to that moment again and again as he had laid in a bed for months, a coma taking his consciousness after an infection settled into his body. His mind trying to ease him in some twisted way as you sat by his bedside day in and day out. He can only imagine the turmoil you must’ve experienced as everything comes rushing back to him, dizzying him with the onslaught of out of body experiences and how you must’ve felt so lost and confused without him by your side.

But he’s here now, you’re here now and he’s dropping his lips to yours in reassurance when he sees concern fill yours at his solemn recognition of the situation. He's determined to be present, to be aware, and to shower you with everything he had to make up for the time he lost with you.

[brighhton]

GUARDS!!! PUT THEM IN THE TIME LOOP!!