#DO YOU FUCKING SEE CHIHIRO

[ahogedetective]

"I heard Naoki-kun beat the heck outta you the other day-- What was that about?" @doomedprotags (like he saw from a very fa away distance but he didn't know what it was about AKSDHSJAD )

@doomedprotags !!!

"Ahhh.... so you have...." Oh god, he was so embarrassed. Even Chihiro knows about the very painful punishment he faced! "W... Well..." He begins... "I made him very angry. A-And I mean... very angry. All because I did not realize that I had been referring to him using a certain word th-that made all the demons get the... apparently very wrong idea about our relationship!! Everyone must have gotten the very wrong idea about him, thanks to my actions... Even Pixie told me they were saying w-weird things about us! Then I was foolish enough to insist I did not need a seal spell placed upon me... He was... th-the scariest and most irate I have ever seen him."

Thanks to the seal spell, Shuichi had forgotten about that word for a while. It's why he had suddenly stopped calling Chihiro it, too. (But even if he didn't forget, be sure as hell would have not continued calling him 'Master Chihiro' after all that...!) "M-My mind is still quite fuzzy from it all. But I believe that it was a term I used to address you as, too. ...M... Maste-"

Oh...little did Shuichi know... that the seal spell Naoki had put on him had mental effects as well. "-?!" Shuichi clenches his forehead. Suddenly, images of the frightening demon king start running through his head. That red aura that surrounded him, and the demonic rage in his voice when he dared defied him... It was like his entire body just froze like a deer in headlights; just like at that very moment...! "A-Ah...!!! Wah...Wh... Wh-What was....?"

But before he could question why he had such a strange reaction, he then feels a surge of immense pain shoot throughout his entire body!!! "AAAAhhhhghhh?!?" Now he's clutching his chest and drops to his knees, keeling over in pain! Where did that come from?! It felt like that punch Naoki gave him...! "G...Guuuugh...!!!" He shakily looks up at Chihiro... "I... I-I'm sorry, Chihiro, I-I have no idea wh..why I suddenly just...felt like I was in so much pain!! It felt l-like that punch he had given me!"

[that1gal3-141]

so I went and saw a live action adaptation of Spirited Away today and it is probably the best performance I have ever seen, the puppetry was so impressive, the choreography and all those other fancy theatre jazz words was amazing

anyways I was bored on the train back and drew some art of no face because who's gonna stop me

and uhh yeah here it is

thanks for uhh, looking at it

[cinnabeat]

also i love you char literally forever and ever i would kill foe you

[maxivstappen]

hi! i saw that you have a 1k event so i was wondering can i request, the lyrics “open up the door,can you open up the door?”- chihiro, billie eilish. “I want you to stay”-birds of a feather, billie eilish. with max verstappen?

OPEN UP THE DOOR ! MV1

[ 1k event / masterlist ]

☽｡⋆ max seems to be in a terrible condition, so you really need him to open the door now — max verstappen x reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst, hurt & comfort, fluff? 𝄞 0.8k words (blurb)

He had been down for days now, a breakdown as foreseeable as the weather.

He was at his breaking point, but made sure nobody knew. Of course, he knew that showing emotion isn’t something to be ashamed of regardless of one’s gender, but there was still something so humiliating about having to give in, about having to speak about his - what the formula one fans called it - “downfall”.

He didn’t want to give in because he hadn’t lost yet. He was still leading, still the one with better chances to win the championship, but all praise towards Norris, someone who’s supposed to be his friend first and rival second, hurt like hell.

So after yet another pole for Norris, even though the rest of the day went incredibly well for Max, he really needed to let it out. Finally.

He hurried off into his driver’s room, face all red and hands shaking. He didn’t even know himself if he felt anger or sadness right this moment, all he knew was that one more stupid question by a reckless reporter would give him the rest, and a scandal like that would only make things worse. Couldn’t people just let him do his damn sport and drive? Who gives a fuck about his relationship to his fellow drivers, who cares about who he thinks should be McLaren’s first driver? Was his opinion really that important?

As if that wasn’t enough already, he had to put up with insults and doubts from fans and even his own team as well. They want him to be flawless yet only ever remind him of his flaws.

Max paced around his room, droplets of sweat running down his cheek. He was fucking done with this shit. Why couldn’t they just let him do his damn job? All he signed up for was driving, and now he had to meet random celebrities he doesn’t even know the names of, he has to put with drama fueled up for nothing and the fia now also wants him to stop swearing as if he was some little kid. It was absolute bullshit to him.

His hands clenched into fists and the familiar taste of blood in his mouth was the only thing keeping him from biting down onto his lip even harder.

But then he heard a knock.

“Max? Can you open up the door?”

He recognized you immediately. Your voice was soft and tender like the one of an angel, making his heart flutter, yet he didn’t want you to see him like that.

You were one of Max’s new engineers, and he had never been so happy to see a new face in the Red Bull garage. It was unusual at first, but you two got along as if you’d known each other for forever already, making the separation of the private life and the work life harder than Max usually knows it to be.

You had noticed that Max has been on edge for a while now, especially today. Seeing him run off to his driver’s room only worried you more.

“Sorry, y/n. Can’t at the moment”

Maybe this wasn’t professional of you, and maybe you shouldn’t be standing in front of his door waiting for him to welcome you in, but maybe you were good enough friends for you to know that he shouldn’t be alone right now, even if he thinks differently.

And maybe you wanted nothing more than to finally be there for him like he was for you when you explained to him how weird it felt to work at a place you’ve never even known or seen from outside the tv before.

“Max, can you open up the door? Please? I’m worried”

And that was all he needed to hear. The last thing he wanted was to worry you over what is supposed to be meaningless stuff like this.

He knew you were the right person for him to see right now, and he also knew you wouldn’t judge him.

And so he finally opened the door, the familiar scent of your perfume immediately filling up his nose making him practically fall into your embrace. You slightly pushed the door with your foot so it would close by itself before burying your fingers in his hair while he breathed down your neck.

With your hands cradling his scalp and his arms tight around your waist, Max knew one thing for sure; he wanted you to stay.

guys ik this is very short & bad but i cannot do better atm because of school! very sorry :( but i’m working on some other stuff already!!

[bronze-and-silver-keys]

For the ghost au: how do the ghosts react to their killers getting executed?

Spoilers under the cut of course

THH

Sayaka harasses Leon during the investigation and the trial, because she's rightfully pissed about being murdered. It didn't really hit her how fucked up the executions were going to be until the automatic pitcher fired the first ball.

Chihiro was just as inconsolable as Taka before Mondo was dragged away to his execution, repeating that he didn't mean it and it was an accident. He didn't deserve this fate, not for this. The second Mondo's ghost emerged from the motorcycle cage, Chihiro ran to him and gave him the tightest hug.

Taka and Hiufmi remained silent through Celeste's execution. They both were understandably bitter.

SDR2

Byakuya was stone cold during Teruteru’s execution but let himself break upon remembering it was only him in the afterlife. He'd failed his classmates. He couldn't protect them anymore, and one of them was dying because of him now. It must've been frustrating being so powerless after committing yourself to protecting your loved ones.

Mahiru felt the same as Sayaka did, being bitter and angry up until the execution. Fuyuhiko and Peko's final conversation before the start of the execution really pulled her empathy into the driver's seat. During the execution, Mahiru's logic and emotion were fighting a war.

Hiyoko was definitely cheering for Mikan to be executed, right up until the huge arm came out. Even she felt like no one deserved that fate, especially with Mikan's past. Ibuki had no clue what was going on for most of the trial, and even less during the execution, but shared the sentiment of no one deserving that.

Nekomaru was ugly sobbing and saluting Gundham through the entire execution, calling him a legend and a badass.

Nagito was spiraling like never before, mainly because the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen happened. Something something, luck cycle, something something, the murder plot he made went down without a hitch but Hajime's hope outweighed his own and he figured it out and rendered his plan useless.

DRV3

Rantaro was wildly confused during the trial since he didn't see Tsumugi or Kaede before he died. At the end of the trial, he made Tsumugi flinch by voicing his disbelief ("It was KAEDE?") And that's what tipped him off that Tsumugi killed him. During the execution, he was ready to greet Kaede with open arms and forgive her immediately.

Ryoma was silent until Kirumi reached the top of the vine, and he started cheering her on. It was a sliver of hope he felt for the first time since they got here. Alas.

Tenko was fucking SCREAMING cheering on the Monokubs as they were adding fuel to the fire. She felt very strongly that this brutal of a death was deserved, ESPECIALLY when Kiyo’s ghost got exorcized. If Tenko didn't get to be with the one she loved because of him, he didn't deserve it either! Angie was cheering beside her, of course.

During the trial, Miu was constantly screaming and swearing at Kokichi, calling him out for being a coward making Gonta do the dirty work. Even the gorgeous girl genius isn't immune to tears at such an unfair death.

Kokichi was rightfully pissed that his plan failed and Kaito was getting executed, but the second Kaito made it to space and began trying to end his own life before Monokuma could take it, you KNOW Kokichi was cheering him on. Get one last final Fuck You in before dying. They definitely high-fived when Kaito became a ghost.

[shsl-hubris-guy]

got a totally random rush of Emotions about Chihiro's gender so hi let's talk about how the entire account of Chihiro 'totally being a cis dude guys' is told by Monokuma, the guy that later goes on to fake a suicide note and falsify an entire class trial just to be pissy. Ah yes top 10 most reliable narrators ever of all time, yes, yes, very convincing

Not to mention in the exact same fucking motive he's very obviously purposefully warping the truth and lying to the cast's faces?? Within the 'embarrassing memories' motive Mondo's is a warped version of the truth. "Mondo killed his own brother" but he didn't, and just about everyone is able to grasp that one. He indirectly led to the accident, but Daiya made his own choices. So wouldn't the same logic apply to Chihiro's motive? "He dresses like a girl but actually is a boy" sounds like you're actively warping her own life experience to send her into Despair.... which is Monokuma's primary character motive.... crazy how that works........

And now, a compilation of every line Chihiro delivers in her own backstory, without the narrative padding from Monokuma explaining to you why this is totally her hating being a woman and wanting to be a man

"Now nobody will be able to say anything about 'even though you're a boy'..."

"I'm... weak... Weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak...!"

"Now's my chance..."

"I'm going to get stronger... and accept who I am..."

"Strong enough so that when someone says 'even though you're a boy' it'll be okay. I'll get better!"

"Maybe talking to Mondo about it will help give me some courage..."

So yeah, once you pull out the unreliable narrator. You get like, 6 lines total. 1/3 of which specify that she IS AFRAID of people saying "even though you're a boy". Now, call me crazy, but if we're genuinely arguing that Chihiro is a cisgendered man, why the hell would she say the equivalent of "I need to accept being a boy. Gee, I sure hope no one calls me a boy while I do so!" That's. That's inherently contradictory. More than anything, looking at Chihiro's lines as the most reliable source of Chihiro's thoughts about herself, it starts to look less and less like a man who wants to rise above being gnc and be a true manly man, and more like someone who's about to get fucking outed and mocked by Monokuma and trying to do damage control, steeling herself to be called a man and strengthening her mind and body to prepare for said outing.

Earlier in chapter 2, Chihiro is already thinking of starting to try working out, but is too afraid to enter the lockers because she's well-aware she can only enter the boys' locker rooms. The inference that Makoto comes to is that Chihiro is an individual trapped in a killing game that couldn't defend herself verbally in the library the morning prior, and is visibly the physically weakest in the class. Ergo, perhaps she wants to be able to defend herself better? Well, neither of those facts that lead to said inference magically change after the discovery of her dick, so perchance, the reason she wanted to get stronger was still so she could defend herself both verbally and physically?? The ONLY reason you'd have to come to the conclusion she wants to reconnect with her assigned sex is because she is being actively threatened into it by Monokuma's motive, or if you take Monokuma's story at his word, that he'd speak respectfully of the dead. Just like he did with every other character in that game, right?

Also, it's worth noting that in the actual conversation-turned-spiral between Chihiro and Mondo before Chihiro's death, neither Chihiro nor Mondo actually talk about Chihiro's gender, only her strength and desire to destroy her weakness. Yes, Mondo is using he/him in the voiceover, but the entire class is atp, and again. Using that as genuine evidence falls flat because we see in that very same scene that Mondo WAS NOT completely present for that conversation. He saw Chihiro's willpower and spiraled, conflating Chihiro with his brother and lashing out in a ptsd-induced blackout.

Also also, if you're gonna argue Chihiro has no reason to need to get physically stronger unless it's to be more masculine, A) Sakura exists in the same game, and B) please god look up any statistics on the amount of violence trans teens receive. That alone is a perfectly reasonable justification for a trans woman to want to be able to defend herself, especially when locked in a place where you cannot escape your potential aggressors.

TLDR Chihiro is legitimately more believable as a trans woman, and every intervention attempting to explain otherwise comes from a character defined by his love of twisting the truth for the sake of causing suffering. Hi hello does anyone hear me

[velvetvexations]

IDK if you care about dark souls but i am getting myself pissed off again thinking about the trans discourse around dark sun gwyndolin. like i can understand why trans women want to claim him because he is a feminine character amab, but to deny that his backstory would resonate with trans men, as a son who is being FORCED by his father to perform socially as a daughter due to cultural stuff, is so silly to me! that's a particular archetype or narrative arc that i see trans men and women gravitate towards because like, complex and alienated relationships to masculinity and femininity are things we all have in common. why can't we share without it being framed like one group is "stealing" from another? frankly gwyndolin is intersex coded as much as anything else and i never see people talk about that!

It's wild how many radfems have transfem headcanons that are literally just trans men, like, canonically. Gwendolyn, Ranma, Chihiro, I cannot stress this enough they are literally canonically trans men. If not for knowing trans women have historically dug Ranma in the past, I would think they literally pick these characters just to deny them to transmascs.

I don't deny at all that characters AMAB going through gender benders or forcefem can't resonate with trans women, because they always have for me. But ignoring the fact that they're canonically trying to have their masculinity returned/revalidated is ridiculous. Acting like trans men are stealing from and denying representation to trans women when they headcanon these characters as transmasc is ridiculous. And using this to say that transmascs are inherently incapable of literary analysis unless they agree with you that every character they like is a trans woman is fucking infuriating.

The reaches they do to force the character into being transfem is so obviously weird, too, to the point of genuinely being pitiable. "The culmination of Homestuck's transfeminist themes" girliepop you sound like someone who thinks Blue's Clues is a tool of the Illuminati. Talk to your loved ones. Go for a walk. Headspace has a free trial.

And like, listen. I talk a lot about headcanon discourse on here. But you have to understand, the issue here isn't if this or that character is transfem or transmasc. It pisses me off BECAUSE it's so petty. It is a manifestation of how other trans people who really, really hate transmascs will go to the most extreme lengths to deny them anything. It makes my blood boil because they see any transmasculine joy at all, headcanons, bands, even your fucking names, and will spend every day trying to get rid of it while calling that transfeminism.

Trans women who touch grass on a regular basis are, like all trans people, getting fucking murdered on a regular basis, but what are we spending our vitriol on? What's our number one priority on Tumblr.com?

[imaginehappyhavoc]

Heya! Could i ask for some headcanons of the thh boys with an ultimate crafter reader that likes making little trinkets for them? -🔥

A/N: Naww Crow!Reader!! (◠‿◠✿)

Pairing: thh boys x Reader

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: N/A

Makoto Naegi:

♡ Oh, this makes him SO HAPPY.

♡ He’s the type to love absolutely anything homemade. Art, cooking, you name it.

♡ It’s honestly comedic how fast his face lights up when you say “I made something for you.”

♡ Just immediately the brightest smile he can manage, and all but running to see what it is this time.

♡ Sometimes he’ll even make you things in return! Though, it normally doesn’t come out as good as he’d like. His damned luck cycle gets in the way.

♡ He keeps everything you make him, no matter how much space it takes up.

Byakuya Togami (platonic):

♡ No one’s… ever done that for him before.

♡ He was raised to recognize an item’s worth by its price tag. Mainly because no one in his life actually cared enough to take time out of their day and make something for him.

♡ He’s honestly flabbergasted every time you do this tbh.

♡ He’ll just hold whatever you made in his hands, staring at it for a just a bit too long. It’s the only time you’ll ever see him speechless.

♡ You tell him it’s okay if he doesn’t want to keep it. He says he won’t.

♡ He does.

Yasuhiro Hagakure:

♡ Did you mean: Ultimate Hype Man?

♡ He’ll get a gift from you and he’s bolting to the common room of the dorms to show it off to everyone.

♡ Always something along the lines of “look at what my SUPER amazing, SUPER talented partner MADE for me!”

♡ He loves anything you have to give him, obviously, but especially if he doesn’t know what the fuck it is.

♡ The things he treasures most in the world are useless lil trinkets that look funky and cool. So if you like metalworking, he might marry you on the spot.

Leon Kuwata:

♡ He loves it so much he loves you so much and no he is totally not about to cry shut up-

♡ Leon is an unexpectedly emotional guy. He reacts to everything, especially positive things, with so much enthusiasm.

♡ So when you come up to him and sheepishly give him a small trinket you made for him, his “cool guy” front just melts.

♡ He’ll like. Hop. Just bounce in place like a really excited rabbit, because that’s basically what he is in this moment.

♡ He keeps it on him wherever he goes. Either he’ll fashion it into an add on for his chain necklace, or he’ll make use of one of his many pockets.

♡ Anytime someone asks about you, he’ll smile so wide and take it as an invitation to show them everything you’ve ever made for him.

Chihiro Fujisaki:

♡ Hugs. Just the tightest, most love-packed hugs you’ve ever experienced in your life.

♡ They try really hard not to cry, they really do, but they can’t help it. It just means so much to them that you would go out of your way to do that!

♡ They’ll ask you to teach them how to make stuff like what you make, so that they can return the favor.

♡ Whether you agree or not, Chihiro’s riding the high for the rest of the week.

♡ They go to class the next day and wait so impatiently for someone to ask about the new charm on their school bag so they have an excuse to ramble about you.

♡ Another person who will keep your trinkets with them all the time.

Mondo Owada:

♡ What a coincidence! He loves making things for you, too!

♡ Only difference is that, while you love to make small trinkets, Mondo likes to make larger, wooden trinkets.

♡ It’s a match made in heaven, honestly. Biweekly gift exchanges.

♡ When you give your gifts to him, it’s kinda like watching a big dog trying to play with a much smaller animal.

♡ He’s so excited, and he knows he has to be gentle, but it’s so hard for him to contain himself! He’ll hold it so gingerly so as not to break it, but every other part of his body’s wiggling because of how happy he is.

♡ He admires your craftsmanship so much, and he loves being able to see all your little design quirks in the things you make for him.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru:

♡ He will straight up cry, and he does not care how many people look at him weird because of it.

♡ It was rare that Taka received gifts at all, never mind gifts that were so personal!

♡ That was, until he met you.

♡ Any gift that you make for him by hand will be treasured so dearly, but especially things that are related to his interests.

♡ You once made him a keychain in the form of a teeny tiny Kendo sword. He kissed you for a solid ten minutes because he was so deeply moved by your affection for him.

♡ He insists on repaying you in some way for everything you make him, though he doesn’t quite know how.

♡ He settles on: anything you need, you get.

Hifumi Yamada (platonic):

♡ The crowd goes WILD.

♡ Of all people, Hifumi can appreciate handmade gifts. He’s given so many of them before, after all.

♡ He loves your trinkets so much that he actually— and stay with me here cause this is a doozy— takes down his figurines and puts your crafts up instead.

♡ Your classmates are convinced you just triggered The End Times because of that but whatever.

♡ He shows them off just as proudly, too.

♡ Like: “Hey, Yamada, what’s all that on your bookshelf?” “I’m SO glad you asked!” *pulls up a 300 page PowerPoint essay.

♡ In return, you get any art you want. Free of charge. You lucky dog.

[cheesagirl]

Can you please make something like y/n losing her virginity to Gojo and when she wakes up she misunderstood that Gojo just wanted to have one night stand and as he never make contact with any of his one night stand, so y/n left writing some notes for him. But Gojo genuinely loved her and then he searched for her finding y/n passed out somewhere or finding her getting attacked by some cursed spirit.

I want to read this so much.😅 Please make it happen. 🥹

Satoru x Fem;Reader

Scenario: Listed in request

Warnings: Smut, cussing

Word count: 903 words

Side notes: I am so sorry for how late I was to do this request, I got logged out of my account for like a month :( I hope this somewhat fits what you had in mind and if not IM SORRY. Enjoy my loves, if you have any request or ideas please submit them because I love doing them❤️

You would have laughed if someone told you that you would lose your virginity to THE Satoru Gojo, the king of 'no feelings'- but here you were straddling Satoru's naked figure as he eased his hardened cock inside you. "Doing so good sweets" you hear him mutter under his breath, his hand moving up to grip the back of your neck.

You couldn't help but moan at the feeling of him. The second he had completely filled you to the brim, your back arched and a small whine escaped your parted lips. "Look at you taking me so well baby" he mumbles, forcing you to look down at the sight of him disappearing into your pussy.

"Feels so good" you babble, your head lulling onto his shoulder, earning you a quiet chuckle from Satoru.

"Yeah?" he teases, peppering small kisses onto your head. You nod, moving your hips in small circles, causing Satoru to let out a hoarse groan.

This was a horrible idea. You shouldn't be in this situation with Satoru, but you certainly weren't putting an end to it now. Tomorrow seemed so far away as you heard the lewd sound of skin hitting skin caused by Satoru bouncing you on him, hitting your cervix each time.

"Aww look at your little belly bulge" He cooed, moving his hand from your hip and pressing it against your belly, causing you to whine out in pleasure, to cock drunk to form proper words.

Tomorrow is an eternity away.

You woke up to the sound of running water and your sleepy eyes immediately widened in panic. Fuck, tomorrow was here, and the anxiety hit you like a train.

Gojo was never one to keep his hookups around long. You had heard stories of him sending the girls off in taxis, never bothering to text them afterward and the realization hit you. You were about to be one of those girls, you had given your virginity to a man who was going to send you off in a fucking taxi.

You quickly sit up in the bed, sliding out of it and scavenging for your clothes, and putting them on. You then grab a sticky note and pen from his desk located in the corner of the room and right a quick 'Last night was great, thank you' quickly signing off with a little heart. You were going to rip the band-aid off and leave without being asked, a weak attempt to save your dignity. You snatch your purse from the nightstand and hurry out the front door.

You were exhausted to say the least, you and Satoru had been up all night and the lack of sleep was starting to hit you as you sat on a bench in a park, eyes drooping closed. It was a busy park, children played as their parents conversed, you didn't see any problem in one quick little nap.

Satoru was surprised and even a little butt hurt when he opened the bathroom door to find an empty bed. He knew what people said about him and some of the rumors did have some truth behind them, but you weren't a one-night stand. Satoru adored you, fuck Satoru loved you. He loved your voice, your face, everything. He wasted no time throwing on a coat and rushing out the door, throwing the note he had left him onto the coffee table on the way out.

"Y/n, answer the phone please", He pleads, sending yet another voicemail to your phone. Suddenly the thought hit him, you had mentioned how you loved the park so much ever since you were a little girl. He didn't know for sure if he'd be there, but he was growing desperate, so he eagerly made his way towards the playground.

When he arrived, Satoru instantly furrowed his eyebrows at the sigh of the familiar cost you always wear, hood up, sitting on a bench. 'What the hell' he muttered to himself, quickening his pace towards him. He frowned even more when he saw how red his nose and cheeks were.

"y/n" he says softly, shaking you slightly. "Time to wake up baby," he adds, patting your cold cheek gently.

Your eyes flutter open, squinting in confusion at the sight of the blue-eyed man in front of you.

"Satoru?" you mumble, sitting up quickly. "I don't know what on earth you are thinking about sleeping on a bench y/n" He scolds, helping you stand properly. You were just about to explain yourself when he cuts you off again.

"You're going to catch a cold y/n" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly stressed by the situation.

"I didn't think you'd want me there when you woke up" you mumble, looking down at your feet while anxiously fidgeting with your fingers.

To your surprise, you felt his warm hands cup your cheeks and your face was lifted to where his eyes met yours.

"Oh sweets, I'd never want you to go away," he whispered, his brows knitted together in concern. "I'd have you with me all the time if I could."

You searched his eyes for something--anything to hint at some sort of regret, but what you found was complete and utter adoration for the girl standing in front of him, with her little red cheeks.

"Let me take you out on a proper date y/n-- please

-ˋˏ✄--------------------------------

Thanks for reading babes ❤️

The song lowkey doesn't go with the first part BAHAHA

[hiyukikagari]

i am still losing my mind thinking about the seitei war lore drop.

@seventyeight-moose clocked earlier that the timeline of events we got this chapter is likely abridged from a more propagandistic version of the story, and i’m inclined to agree. it seems all too morally convenient that japan’s enemy was an invading force from a magic island, where its inhabitants were intrinsically magical, resilient, and malicious. i’m willing to believe there was an invasion, but less so that it happened unprovoked. i can’t help but wonder if there was some inspiration drawn from japan’s colonial history with the ainu people.

with that in mind, it is FASCINATING that their downfall, the datenseki which created the enchanted blades, came from their own island. is this the origin of sorcery in japan? maybe not from the war itself, but sometime prior? what was kunishige doing to the datenseki that made it bypass the shokoku immunity? how did they retrieve the datenseki in the first place? why is it native only to that island?

hopefully we get some answers sooner rather than later, but who can think about all that when iori is breaking our hearts!!!

i’m kinda glad she passed out when she did because that girl needs to decompress. can you imagine having a blind spot in your memory for 3/4 of your life, conscious of something in your own mind denying you that memory, and then it’s THAT?

hokazono’s paneling really shines around iori this chapter. in particular, the callbacks to both times iori cast judgment towards chihiro (a killer for better or worse), juxtaposed with the dawning realization that she’d be walking in the shadow of her father’s body count for the rest of her life.

it really drives home how all of this, the seitei war, enchanted blades, hishaku, etc. ripples through the lives of the people around them. people like char, or tenri, fuck even sojo suffered because of their proximity to the datenseki and enchanted blades. nobody comes out unscathed, which makes me want so SO desperately to see iori beat those odds somehow.

but of course, that probably won’t happen, and she’ll end up face to face with seiichi and one way or another will change her life irrevocably for a second time.

i miss hakuri. i think he’d be a nice presence for iori right now.

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 76 Rebirth Posting

More exciting stuff, dear void! I am seated with popcorn! Rough TL of Editor's Notes First Page: (none this week) Last Page: 雀!! 飛宗三能力がもたらすのは...?! [Suzaku!! Tobimune san nouryouku ga tarasu o ha...?!] Suzaku!! What has the third of Tobimune's abilities set in motion...?!

Some meta stuff first!

Next week's issue will be a double because April 27th/28th is the start of Golden Week, a series of national holidays in Japan. In other words, prepare for lobotomybachi.

Volume 7 will be releasing on May 2nd in Japan, so look forward to info on the cover illustration, page count, and the possibility of extras soon!

The next issue of WSJ has Kagurabachi getting the Lead Colour Page alongside some kind of "happy announcement". One wonders what it will be! It could be a character popularity poll, it could even be... that.

Hiruhiko's Gambit and Samura

So much for seeing what's happening at Kamunabi HQ! We got a whole chapter of Hiruhiko's shenanigans for the most part, but the payoff was so fucking worth it.

"Run along now, Ms. Toto. I need you to be able to save my ass with a timely teleport before I get murked."

Killing Samura, the pinnacle of the Gotta Go Fast sword style while he's deeply wounded and gasping for breath? He'd need some fancy moves to pull that off. Great time to see what else Kumeyuri can do!

Oiran != prostitutes, alright? Can we put that stupid "discourse" to rest already?

The word used in Japanese was 遊 [yuu], which will probably get translated as "Play". 遊 means a variety of things from play to pleasure/recreation/diversion to flexibility/freedom.

Also, the JP line between the last two boxes is:

"遊"は周囲のモノを自在に操ることができる "yuu" wa shuui no MONO wo jizai ni ayatsuru koto ga dekiru "Play" lets the user freely manipulate nearby objects.

モノ [mono] is 物, meaning "thing/object". The extra emphasis from writing it out with katakana means that Hokazono-sensei's telling us that it's for non-living things only is my guess. It can work on things and objects but not living, breathing animals or people. Plants are probably also excluded from use but that's up for debate I suppose, have at it if you want to.

Anyway! How 'bout all them corpses Chihiro and the Masumi created, huh? Yeah... Add on a super-duper strong Banquet and not even Samura is safe. Because we got confirmation at last that John did target and manipulate Samura to be the anxious, defeatist wreck of a man we love to debate (apparently).

The schemer schemed successfully.

A broken man with so much anxiety and guilt is easily manipulated. Called it!

And indeed, Hiruhiko does a great job of getting the strongest swordsman to kill himself to save his daughter. The corpses probably don't have any killing intent that Samura can hone in on, so he'd be going off the sounds they were making and not much else when it comes to fighting them. Too bad his senses are scrambled thanks to Banquet.

So he performs one final act befitting his role as her father before he becomes the latest series casualty... oh. Oh.

What's that? Tobimune's third ability is... Suzaku?!

No malding, W for the official EN translation.

The kanji used for the ability was 雀 [suzume], which means "sparrow". But it can also be a reference to the Vermillion Bird of the South (朱雀, zhū què) from the Chinese myth of the Four Symbols. With the Ruby next to the kanji being すざく [suzaku], there's absolutely no doubt that the last ability is divine intervention incarnate. Was the True Realm bit in the beginning hinting at how Samura came to have this ability, since he hates killing...? Being able to revive the people you murder would definitely ease his conscience over those sincerely held Buddhist beliefs clashing with his duty.

*----------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Suzaku the mythical bird is similar to a phoenix but not quite- they're both associated with rebirth through fire, but there's some really deep lore with Suzaku that makes it a distinct entity. Some short details on what exactly Suzaku is are here and here.

*----------------------------------------------------------------------------*

The move seems cool and OP as fuck, yeah. It's also the most probable answer to the question Shiba sorta kinda answered back in chapter 60:

Hey Shiba where've you been since we last saw you here?

So now I wonder if this was Samura's plan all along- kill the other bearers to sever their contracts with the blades then bring them back with Suzaku. At the very least, the chances of Uruha being alive after all just shot up dramatically. Revival sword + not seeing his body + deliberately being teased about his status + Chihiro saying this about the man's death:

YOU SHOULD HAVE RESTED LONGER DAMNIT. Chapter 60, I don't like you very much.

Let "Uruha Lives!" be the next thing we hastily scribble in public areas as our sign of rebellion against The Man.

Anyway...

Iori's probably still gonna have trauma from seeing her dad get eviscerated right in front of her.

The Crow feathers burning up raise some interesting questions- is it just a neat visual effect or is it part of some limitation for using Suzaku? As in there's a long GCD like he's playing FFXIV with only three abilities at level 2. We see him flood the hallway with feathers shortly after though so maybe it's just for the cool factor.

There has to be some kind of limitation on Suzaku though. Probably. Maybe it requires a ton of energy and/or has a long cooldown before it can be used again and/or it cancels Crow/Owl if they're in effect and/or can only be used once per revival target? Hope we find out. What a fucking amazing move though. Samura is terrifying with Tobimune- he seems downright immortal and inescapable. Look what you've done, Hakuri! (Please don't, you did nothing wrong. Ask the author when you can come back to us though.)

Oh shit his eyes are open!

Samura looming in the dark with his scars on fire, preparing to teach a "stupid brat" a lesson... I nearly forgive Hiruhiko's presence in the hotel this arc. THIS PAGE IS SO FUCKING AMAZING! But yeah, Samura called Hiruhiko a 糞餓鬼 [kusogaki], "shitty brat", "stupid brat", "son of a bitch", however you wanna phrase it ("friggin' brat" in the official EN) the page prior. He's got Mr. "I'm the only one who's free" cornered and it's a coinflip if the pink menace goes down or not, I think. Toto's presumably in a safe location but will she know to teleport Hiruhiko out of danger? She and Hiruhiko could plausibly have the twin/soulmate sense thing that Chihiro and Hakuri have going on. Kumeyuri's third ability could come in clutch too, whatever it is. We'll see.

What I want to see most, though, is the additional follow-up to this from Chapter 51:

It's going to happen in a different way than I expected but it'll still be emotional as hell.

I think Samura's sight was also restored for a bit of thematic harmony after he "woke up" from the hallucinations by dying. Blinding himself out of guilt trapped him in his own head and negative thinking, also blinding him from interpreting things in a better way. His sight being restored would symbolise that he's now on a more even keel with a better perspective on things.

Sorry for all the panel captures this entry but I wanna make a note of something here that couldn't necessarily be brought over into English:

Something something literal AND metaphorical "waking up".

The line in JP in Samura's panel was:

彼をようやく幻覚から醒ましたのは致命傷による痛み kare wo youyaku genkaku kara kimashita no wa chimeishou ni yoru itami

醒ます [kimasu] means not only "to wake up" but also "to be disillusioned" and "to sober up". Got the triple play of meanings here! It's not normally written with the 醒 kanji -覚める[kimeru] is more common- so Hokazono-sensei was very deliberate about keeping all three meanings here, I think. Or he's just very fond of associating kanji using the sake radical (酉) to the blade that's named after a shaky pour of sake (酌揺) and induces drunken hallucinations (酔った幻覚). Like Samura sobered up and got his head back on straight after becoming human shishkebab.

At any rate.

Will Samura be surprised by how Chihiro looks, especially with that massive scar? Will he also think Chihiro looks like Kunishige? I want to find out!

Wouldn't it be so evil if we cut over to the Kamunabi HQ attack next chapter instead? Ha ha... ha... not really though, because I'm eagerly awaiting seeing who gets to show up to do cool stuff over there. Whatever perspective we get, I'm here for it.

Meanwhile, On the Roof...

Thanks for reminding us of the series of events just in case we forgot since a lot has happened the past few chapters.

Kuguri had the good sense to run away so he can live and fight another day, though it's hilarious that Hiruhiko apparently forgot or didn't bother to include him in what he planned to do. I think we'll see more of him in a later arc; maybe not a lot, but he's got a better head on his shoulders than Hiruhiko (not that that's a challenge) so he could become another recurring skills check for Chihiro. He's most likely tied to whatever will happen with the Sushi Bearer.

I kinda wanna see his commentary on how Chihiro uses the Iai White Purity style but we'll have to wait on that. Glad to see you Kuguri, now get the hell out of Dodge while you can. Samura's on the warpath against your buddies and you're certainly included if he sees you. You also probably don't have much of a chance to kidnap Iori with the Masumi around her so seriously just GTFO and live.

Speaking of:

Ikura definitely got more than he bargained for getting himself involved in this.

Seems as though the Masumi are gonna be just fine. Good. Protect Ikura and Iori from the re-corpsified corpses just in case and don't make any funny moves that raise death flags. I'm fucking warning you guys and I won't do it again.

As for Iori...

There won't be enough therapy in the world to help her after this.

I think even if she and her dad don't get a chance to talk, she got an answer of sorts when he protected her at the cost of his life.

Naturally I think they have a ton of shit they need to say to each other, and Samura still deserves a verbal lashing, but at least Iori won't be thinking he abandoned her because he didn't love her or something like that. The problem is he cares too damn much if anything, really. And can't/won't get help for that fragile mental state of his.

Samura being glad that he was the only one who was hurt is the biggest answer to her question of "why" though- he doesn't want her to suffer. He'll shoulder all the pain and misery, do whatever it takes to let her live a free and happy life. He's a true father at heart even if he's not really functional in some critical aspects. Kinda like Kunishige, in a much sadder way.

At least Kuinishige's main failing -that we know of, at least- was being immature and leaving all the housekeeping to Chihiro. Bit of a crappy thing for a parent to do to their kid, but it worked for them and didn't bother Chihiro much. He actually cherished those times when he was taking care of himself and his dad. In all other respects Kunishige seemed to be a proper parent- he was teaching Chihiro some really valuable life lessons and being a good role model outside of housework. Most importantly, he was willing to walk through life with his kid and support him every step of the way.

By contrast, Samura's too mentally tortured to support Iori properly. He fears her hanging herself and doesn't talk to her but sends her away. He knows she's a target for kidnapping and worse and instead of working through it with her, he makes her forget everything so others forget her too- even himself. But he'll be her shield and protect her no matter what it costs him.

It's such a damn shame that he thinks his little girl needs to be separated from him to be safe and happy, really- she cherished those memories of their mundane days together just as much as Chihiro did with Kunishige. No doubt she has the same feelings of not wanting to trade those moments for anything, not even the safety and peace of mind her dad wants her to have so desperately.

I really, really hope they get to talk things out. There's so much unsaid between them and they deserve a quiet moment to rip the band-aid off and start the conversation.

One More Thing

A little detail that might get lost in the hype of this chapter:

Reusing screen shots like Hokazono-sensei reuses panels.

The Shinuchi is the exception to the three basic abilities rule for Enchanted Blades. We saw Kyora use Spider, Dragonfly, and Centipede during the Rakuzaichi arc, and we can surmise that the flower field was Malediction, the True Realm ability that the Sword Master unlocked. So there may be more critter abilities to witness if we see the sword in action!

Okey dokey. Give yourself a little compliment this week kind void. We'll meet again for the "exciting announcement" and whatever happens next in this wild fight!

[godhandler]

“It’s just… it’s been 16 years since…” Yuuji finds it difficult to put it into words.. “... since he last saw Divine Dog White…” 

[when your kids inherit the Ten Shadows, Megumi Fushiguro gets to meet a long lost fluffy friend again]

[1.5k words   |   fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, post-canon   |   part of Obeisance to The Arrow universe]

“Hito, Kiko, don’t.” Noritoshi glares at the twins who have been caught red handed trying to ride atop the pair of dogs. In fact, it’s the 4th time they’ve been caught. They refuse to stop trying. “Just sit, okay? Just sit down for a bit. Let dad make his call.”

Noritoshi Kamo is tired. Truly, soulfully, tired. His day began at 5 am today, because you had to go to work earlier than usual, and are still not back yet. Handling 4 kids and their own separate timetables all day, while working as a teacher for Jujutsu High… at 34, he’s not old, but goddamn does his body ache like it is. And now, when he was looking forward to putting the kids to bed and waiting for you to come back and uncork this good vintage and maybe wear that nice lingerie you bought last week and be asleep by 10 pm, when tonight was supposed to go like all other nights, he’s got a huge fucking emergency on his hands. Not that he can show it, of course, in front of the kids. 

“C’mon, pick up, pick up. Asahito! I swear, if I see you– Tsukiko! Tsukiko, hands where I can see them! Good, okay, now sit down and count till 100.” Noritoshi is doing his level best to maintain any semblance of calmness. It isn’t working. Naomi and Chihiro, the older two kids, are terrified. Their usually monk-calm dad is frantically calling people, while his Flowing Red Scale is on, as are two discs of Slicing Exorcisms, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. Not at them, of course, but still. The twins, Hito and Kiko, are too young to realise the gravity of the situation. 

Click. Finally.

“Hey Noritoshi, it’s me, Yuuji. Megumi’s driving right now.”

“Yuuji!” Damn, Yuuji thinks, the man seems out of breath. “Give the phone to Megumi, quick.”

‘But he’s driving, we were playing basketball and now we’re coming ba–”

“Put it on speaker then! Yuuji, it’s urgent.”

“Huh? Wait.” Yuuji puts him on speakerphone and gasps. “Oh my God, is y/n pregnant again?”

“What?” 

“Damn, that’s your fifth one.” Yuuji chuckles. “You must really like being a dad.” 

“It’s not–”

“Five is a lot though –”

“MEGUMI!” Noritoshi shouts out. “Are you there?”

“Yeah” Megumi leans towards the phone that Yuuji is holding out. “Congrats, Noritoshi.”

“Oh, Megumi, thank God.” Noritoshi’s voice is palpably more stable. “y/n isn’t pregnant. The twins’ cursed technique showed up, about 5 minutes ago. Megumi, they have the Ten Shadows.”

Megumi almost crashes the car.

—------- 

“Noritoshi, love, I’m here!” You’ve run all the way from the parked car to your drawing room. It’s bursting with people: Noritoshi (battle-ready), Naomi and Chihiro (hiding behind their dad), Yuuji (fascinated), Megumi (teaching the twins to release the large black dog that’s running amok amid your fragile china-display and Edo era vases), and your little twins (actually listening to their uncle, surprisingly). 

“Mom!” “y/n!” “Honey!” 

Half an hour ago, you had been working on a new telecom venture when your assistant rushed in, claiming an urgent call from your husband: “Love, it’s the twins, Hito and Kiko- cursed technique- unstable control- dinner- Ten Shadows!” It takes a while for you to piece together the information, but when you do, you turn pale as death. 

The twins inherited the Ten Shadows? Together? They share one cursed technique? They share the fucking Ten Shadows?

—------- 

The black divine dog was sent back, thanks to Uncle Megumi Fushiguro. “The other one was already gone when we got here.” Megumi says, leaning back as everyone sits in peace around the low tea-table on the ground. Yuuji is playing cards with the boys, Tsukiko sits in Megumi’s lap, steadily stealing extra cookies from the table, and Naomi is quietly talking to her dad. “They summoned the Divine Dogs by accident, don’t punish them for it, okay?”

“I know.” Noritoshi sighs. “I didn’t even know two Ten Shadows users could exist at the same time.”

“It’s very rare.” Megumi replies. “But rare things are common nowadays.” Since the Culling Games. Since it all got messed up. 16 years ago. 

“It’s so dangerous for a 6 year old to have the power to accidentally summon Mahoraga. Megumi-chan, what did you do at that age?” You still haven’t kicked the habit of calling him Megumi-chan, even though he grumbles about it a lot, especially since the twins are starting to call him that too.

“Well, I had Gojo-sensei to show me the basics, and then I figured it out myself. But I was a very different 6 year old than Hito and Kiko.” He looks down at Tsukiko who’s trying to hide her growing bundle of cookie-loot. “Maybe it’d be safer if I stay with the kids for a bit…”

The kids are delighted to hear this, of course, Uncle Megumi who lets them get away with anything, and buys them whatever they want, he’s their favourite. (Uncle Yuuji is very hurt by this proclamation).

“Yeah, that’d be great, Megumi-chan. Thanks.” You yawn. 

“Say, Hito, Kiko!” Yuuji says. “You called both the dogs? Can you call them again?”

“Now, Itadori?” Noritoshi is still wary. When he first saw the dogs, he almost killed them on the spot, thinking that someone had sent them there to hurt his kids. It had taken a second for light to enter his head: Ah, these are my children’s shikigami. They inherited the Ten Shadows…. Oh my God- my kids inherited the Ten Shadows. “Take the yard outside then, not in here.”

Except for Megumi and the twins, who are working on calling the dogs in the middle of the yard, all of you stand in the veranda. Noritoshi’s Flowing Red Scale is on, ready, just in case.

“It’s just… it’s been 16 years since…” Yuuji finds it difficult to put it into words.. “... since he last saw Divine Dog White… back at the detention center....” 

The shadows under the twins have definitely started to hollow out choppily. Megumi shouts out words of encouragement, telling them to “steady, keep steady!”, while you can tell that Noritoshi is growing more agitated by the second. The volatile control over their shared cursed technique seems to shift between the twins randomly. The shadows underneath, like turbulent sea-water, split.

Megumi Fushiguro is no stranger to loss. It’s a fact of his life. He hardened his heart to this a long time ago, he's bid his good-byes properly in private. He’s done his due mourning when Divine Dog White died over a decade and a half ago. 

Why does his throat feel tighter? Hito and Kiko are making the huge dogs shake hands with a delighted Yuuji. Why does he remember the damp walls of that old apartment, where his dad left him and Tsumiki? Why does he remember Tsumiki’s laugh when the white dog, invisible to her, tripped her as she walked? Those snowy walks with Gojo-sensei, when he brought all three of them mochi, and an extra one for the dog? Those tired midnights in Jujutsu High when the dog curled around him in his sleep? Nobara and Yuuji, back in their teenage years, begging him to summon his precious dog? Nobara who still remains 16 in his memories. Gojo-sensei. Tsumiki. The White Dog. 

If anyone notices a tear stuck in Megumi’s lashes, they don’t mention it. They let him sit on the grass, keeping watch. The overprotective parents have loosened up, allowing Naomi and Chihiro to pet the dogs too. It’s nice, he thinks, everyone getting to enjoy a night like this. It doesn’t come by often. These small moments like playing with the dogs, eating meals together, hanging clothes to dry, taking walks in the setting sun, these are privileges they've earned with blood. Families, especially happy ones, are rare; Megumi’s proud that you and Noritoshi have managed to create one. As for him, he’s content sitting on grass and watching. 

“Megumi-chan, come play!” Tsukiko beckons him. “Shiro, go jump on him.”

“Shiro, no–” But these aren't Megumi’s shikigami, they don’t listen to a word he says. He’s immediately tackled on the soft ground by the weight of the white furball, who’s wagging his tail and licking him all over, as excited as the kids to be summoned. They even smell the same, Megumi remembers. Still, mine had softer fur. 

Naomi valiantly comes to his rescue. Noritoshi offers him some tea before bed. Him and Yuuji are staying the night, you’ve declared, and keeping watch over the twins. Despite all the loss he’s endured his whole nightmare of a life, at the end of the day, there’s still a family he’s part of. There’s still hope, there’s still love, there’s still soft white dogs. 

—------- 

The battle is over: all 4 kids have been put to bed. Yuuji whistles softly, complaining that Hito wheedled five stories and three lullabies out of him. That reminds him: “y/n, you know when Noritoshi called us, he seemed so stressed, I thought that you were pre-” but Noritoshi whacks him on the head before he gets to finish. Megumi isn’t done entertaining the twins yet. 

a/n: timeline wise, this work is set faaar in the future, when the Kamos have returned to and established themselves in Japan. Regardless of the merger, the amount of cursed energy cultivated from the Culling Games have GOT to have fucked up effects on the kids born afterwards, like the remains of nuclear bombs. Naomi is the oldest kid at 13, Chihiro is 10 and the twins are both 6. reader would be 30, noritoshi 34, yuuji 32, and megumi 31. if it was unclear, Asahito and Tsukiko are nicknamed Hito & Kiko

[lov3lybarista]

ᴄʜ. 5 ᴘɪɴᴋ.

Wattpad:lov3lybarista Pairing: Thomas Shelby x OC Warnings: the plot thickens! Not a warning, I'm just excited to get this story rolling Word Count: 3.6k+ Masterlist.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ Song: CHIHIRO by Billie Eilish

May 3rd, 1923, somewhere outside Birmingham, United Kingdom.

Thomas Shelby only needed to say: "If Dr. Hassan is not doing it, then it's not getting done."

And that had halted all pushback from her clinic. He scoffed at first when a younger apprentice had the audacity to even merely suggest he would be more "comfortable" with someone else. He almost strangled the poor man. Thomas didn't care if it wasn't typical that the doctor drew blood—he was close to spilling it if it wasn't her drawing his.

So now he sat again in the private exam room, his sleeves rolled up and his cigarette case turning in his hand as he tried to fight back the need to light one up just to see that little brow furrow she did when she was frustrated with him. The room smelled like antiseptic and amber—her doing, of course—and the curtains had been changed to a deep cream color that made it feel more like a hotel than a clinic. He respected it. He hated it. It unnerved him and calmed him all in one sitting.

Then the door clicked. He looked up.

And then he nearly fucking died.

Because she had walked in already being the softest thing in his life and now she looked like it. Clipboard in hand, hair half tied up into a loose hold, the rest tumbling down her back in those thick black silk waves.

She was wearing pink.

Not the sterile kind or the loud kind—no—this was soft, blooming, devastating, and dangerous all in one pretty silk blouse.

Her lips were painted a gentle mauve, the rose tinting her pale cheeks seemed more flushed today, was it the sun or was it cause of his eyes? He didn't know, he could barely breathe as he took her in, to the way her rose-colored silk was tucked neatly into a high-waisted cream skirt, the soft click of her dainty heels.

And the worst part, the most painful part— she didn't know. She had no clue that she stood there looking like she was made to ruin men without even trying, that she was ruining him this very moment.

She was reading something on his chart, her brows furrowed in concentration as she breathed out soft words to herself. Then when she glanced up to see him staring at her like he had just been hit hard in the ribs, she froze.

"What?"

He only stared.

Her eyes widened a bit, "did...I forget something?"

"You're wearing pink," he said, his voice low.

Her gaze dropped to her blouse like she had forgotten what she had on. She looked up at him with genuine confusion. "Yes?"

His lips parted but didn't form any words right away, he just ran a hand down his jaw like he was trying to compose himself from pouncing on her.

"What's wrong, Thomas?"

"You walked in wearing that," he began, nodding slightly at her like she was a weapon, "and you expect me to sit still?"

It was her turn to part her lips with no reply. She looked down at herself again, like the pink she was wearing was just pink—like it wasn't the softest fucking thing he had seen in years. And that's what kept making it all worse. She didn't even know what she was doing to him.

He let out a slow breath, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Draw the blood," he spoke finally, "before I change my mind."

And she did. But her hands weren't as steady as they always were.

She tied the tourniquet around his arm with practiced ease. Her touch was always like that; gentle, brushing, efficient, impersonal. Except it never felt impersonal, nothing did with her.

He had to look away─at the window, at the door, anywhere but the dip of her pale neck or how those long thick lashes framed her thoughtful eyes.

"I see you still have that nurse," he began, his voice slightly raspy, "the one with the hair bun that could kill a man."

She paused only a bit, a smile ghosting her lips as the needle slid gently into his vein.

He glanced at her, the amusement catching up with him, "swear to God, I thought she was about to frisk me when I walked in this time."

That had done it for her.

She laughed.

Not the usual quiet smile he earned, not the soft hum of amusement she gave when he flirted with her. A real, genuine, and too-sweet laugh.

A pretty sound that bubbled in her chest and escaped her mouth like she hadn't done it in a long, long time.

And it changed everything. It changed the way the sun that seeped through the window felt on his skin, it changed the way his too-tight knot at his tie loosened, it changed the way she completely softened in his eyes.

He blinked at her for a moment, stunned completely. And then something even more rare happened. He smiled─a real, eye-crinkling smile that made his cheeks hurt like the muscles in his face were finally being used in a way they had forgotten long ago.

"You're laughing now," he continues, his smile playing through his voice, "but wait until she finds out I've been skipping the morning pills here and there. She'll hang me by my toes in the foyer."

Dalia shook her head, her words lost to the sweet sound of her giggle, "You deserve it."

That sweet, pretty laugh.

"I shouldn't laugh," she murmurs, the smile still stretching her full lips, "She's been with me since I first opened the clinic."

"And she hates me like I've been there since the first day," he muttered, his burning gaze not leaving the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled.

"She hates everyone," she replied, her smile still there, "but especially men who don't stay on their medication schedule."

That made him grin again─crooked, boyish.

"You've got a dangerous laugh, Dr. Hassan," he said lowly.

That made her pause, her brow raising at him.

"Makes me forget I'm bleeding," he continued.

Her smile faltered─a flicker of something deeper passing in the soft breath she let out through her parted lips before she collected herself as she bandaged him.

"Then we'll keep it rare," she whispered.

But the damage has already been done. Because here she was, the woman in pretty pink, laughing like the world hadn't tried to ruin her.

And it made him feel for one singular impossible moment that it hadn't ruined him either.

And now? That laugh was his favorite sound.

The room fell silent again, except now it glowed with something that had to do with the way his heart skipped a beat when she entered the room and how her hair fell in bouncy jet-black waves around her hips.

She continued to organize and label quietly, and without turning she spoke to him again, "We need to address your sleep."

He watched her as she moved, how tiny her waist was, how he wondered why she wore that damn corset every day when he was sure he could wrap both of his hands around her waist without it.

"Do you still have those nightmares?"

He didn't answer.

She finally turned to meet his eyes, "I have something I want to try with you," she spoke, "a sleep study. But we need to sit down and talk about it so you understand what it entails."

That was his moment, and he'd be damned if he didn't snatch it. So he stood, slowly pulling his coat as he asked: "Late lunch, then?"

She paused, blinking those long lashes at him in slow, deep thought. And then she nodded. "You're my only patient today."

"I know." it was by his design, of course.

She shook her head softly as they walked through the door he held open for her, her eyes avoiding his for a second like she didn't want to admit she liked that he made sure he was the only one.

They walked down the clinic hall together, his hands adjusting her ivory wool coat around her shoulders as he helped her get it on. Nurses passed by then, smiling politely and casting quick, curious glances.

And then─they passed her. The nurse that Thomas had joked about earlier, her hair bun still lethal and her clipboard pressed to her chest like a warrior's shield. Dalia slowed, only slightly, and the nurse offered half of a nod and smile before disappearing down the hall.

But Thomas saw it. He saw the slightest tug at her lips which she then pursed together to keep from spreading.

May 3rd, 1923, Edgbaston, Birmingham, United Kingdom.

Of course, there were no exceptions to the area he took her. The nice part of Birmingham, he always wanted nice things for her. The part of town with gaslit alleyways and polished stores, the kind of place where the restaurants wore silence and jazz like jewelry.

Thomas walked by her side, hand brushing her back in a way he hoped chivalry covered up for that possessive ache he held whenever he had others around her.

He didn't wait to be seated, he had his table ready in his head. In the back, away from view. Dim lighting with scented candles and soft linen folded napkins.

And she said nothing when he pulled out her chair for her, his breath on the curve of her throat as he tucked her in snuggly against the table. She simply stared at him with that soft quiet gaze he could never get used to─like she already knew what he was trying to give her and didn't need to question why.

He sat close, his chair pulled too near to her side to be professional. But he didn't care, just draped his coat behind him as he watched her drink from the cup of water.

"Put that down, Thomas," she said softly when he reached for his cigarette case.

And he did, giving her that small cheeky grin he reserved only for her when she scolded him like that.

"I want to try this sleep study," she began, her finger tracing the rim of the cup, "it's not medication. Not yet. It's something therapeutic, gentle exposure."

He didn't answer right away, his eyes tracing her nail as it moved against the curve of the glass, "Sounds like therapy."

"It is."

He tilted his head, "I don't believe in therapy."

"You believe in me."

That made him look away, just for a moment. When he looked back at her again, his eyes traced the curve of her bottom lip.

"I do."

And that was the only reason why any medication she gave him could work.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The sun had just begun to retreat as they left. The sky was caught in that golden hour between two times of day, where the shadows stretched long against the pavement and his eyes turned a warmer shade of blue. His coat caught in the wind and her heels clicked lightly on the stone.

She laughed again at something he dryly said, soft and quick, her head tilted slightly in as she let him see her like that. And then she stopped, her eyes catching on something up ahead.

A black cat sat perched on the flat top of the restaurant gate, lying against the warmed stone, watching them with half-lidded green eyes like it knew something they didn't.

"Oh," she breathed, her hand already unwrapping the white paper around her turkey sandwich that she had refused to waste at the restaurant.

And when she crouched slowly, Thomas held her hand to steady her as her heels balanced on the cobblestone.

The fabric of her coat pooled around her like fog settling on land, and the cat began to lazily walk over when it saw her break apart the meat and set it on the wrapper.

Thomas knelt beside her, his hand still in hers, his gaze never once leaving the way her brown eyes reflected the sun like honey did.

She smiled, still blissfully watching the cat eat, "looks like mine," she said softly, "always sulking and lazy."

And he believed her. He would believe anything she said in that honeyed voice of hers.

He helped her up when the cat had finished eating, staring up at them as its pink tongue darted to lick around its mouth.

"Come on," she says, "let's walk. You need the fresh air. We can talk more about your sleep." Her voice was almost playful as if she wasn't the same woman who once held a scalpel like a soldier wielded a rifle in battle.

And he did, not because he needed air, not because he needed to fix his sleep, but because he needed her.

The sky glowed a soft ombre of orange and pink around them─the light soaking into the buildings, into her skin, into the dark expanse of her hair. He walked beside her, their hands brushing when the path narrowed or the crowd thickened.

The cat followed. Quiet, and loyal, its tail high and trailing at their feet like it had belonged to them forever.

They wandered the market the way people in love did when they both knew but wouldn't admit it. People noticed him as the stalls whirled by; fabric, bread, a fiddle playing somewhere in the crowd. People always noticed him.

But this time it was different.

It wasn't about the man dressed in all black wandering like a warning of death, it wasn't about the gun at his side, it wasn't about the blood that stained his hands. It was about the way he looked at her.

Thomas Shelby: soft. Thomas Shelby: following. Thomas Shelby: in love.

Some smiled like they couldn't believe it, others stared like he had just grown another head, but no one dared interrupt.

She paused suddenly, her steps faltering as she tilted her head at a stall nearby. And when he followed her gaze, he knew the bad feeling he had deep in his gut finally conjured to reality.

Dalia stood in front of a Gypsy stall, nothing grand, just old fabric and hanging herbs and talismans, a dark-haired woman seated inside watching them with shadowed eyes.

"Have you ever had a tea reading?" Dalia asked him as she stepped forward, her eyes still on the stall.

Thomas didn't answer. Not right away. Because something inside him burned.

His people.

He knew what sort of things they dealt in, what they saw when no one else did, what they whispered into the shadows of the night as herbs burned and cards were set out.

And this woman with the wrinkled hands and beaded hair wasn't anything but a danger in his eyes.

He touched gently at her arm, his voice low, "Let's keep walking."

He began to guide her away but she turned a bit, still had that look of curiosity dancing in her eyes, but something else lingered there.

Then she tilted her head up at him, her lashes fluttering as brown met blue. And then she pouted. Just a soft, subtle pout of her bottom lips, the kind of look that would make him stab anyone else but on her it was lethal.

Unexpected, elegant, sweet.

"You never let me have any fun, Mr. Shelby."

Thomas blinked.

Her eyes were glittering, playful, and mischievous as she stared up at him. And he was stunned silent. Because this wasn't the surgeon who had held him together, this wasn't the woman who met his eyes fearlessly when he showed up on her doorstep. This was her; effortless and as sweet as spring dusk.

His lips twitched into a smile he couldn't fight down, "Fun?"

"I wanted to see how the leaves would swirl in my favor," she mumbled dramatically, her eyes rolling as she huffed and turned her body away from him slightly, "but no...no fortunes, no spells. Just more walking around with the grumpiest man in England."

Thomas laughed. He actually laughed. Because her little pout, her gentle tease, her soft whine, the way the pink of her blouse shifted like it had never known stiffness─all of it was so disarming he didn't stand a single chance.

And so he reached out, pulling her back to his side as he laced their fingers together and spoke in that dry, low tone: "Fine. Let's get your bloody tea reading."

She smiled, slow and soft and pleased.

And Thomas Shelby─war-torn and cursed and broken─held the hand of a woman in pink who pouted like a girl and still made him feel like he was a man who deserved something good.

The cat followed them as they walked into the stall, tail high and a silent witness to something looming ahead. Something much more devastating than seeing her in pink.

The air felt more still like it had been waiting for her to enter. The old woman didn't smile, she didn't move, just nodded once like she had known Dalia would return. Thomas's jaw shifted a bit, his body practically shielding her side.

"You're sure?" He muttered.

"Yes," she said gently, offering him that small smile that always undid him.

He didn't move, nor did he speak. He watched as she sat on the old carved chair, her legs elegantly crossed and her hands resting neatly in her lap. He stood behind her like a shadow, his abdomen pressing against her back like he was anchoring them together. She didn't pull away, not even when his hand clenched the edge of the chair's backrest like he would use it as a weapon if he had to.

The cat curled beside his shoes, its tail flicking as it settled like it was waiting for something to happen.

The old woman finally moved to pour tea from a small brass kettle into a delicate chipped porcelain cup, her eyes turning more foggy behind the rising steam.

No one spoke as Dalia accepted the tea and took a single sip, not a single breath was let out as the woman took the cup and turned it in her hand. Once. Twice.

Her brows pinched in concentration. Then she turned the cup again. Thomas leaned closer, his breath just above her head.

And then she finally spoke:

"Something ancient is following you."

Dalia didn't move. Thomas didn't either save for his hand that tightened on the chair.

"It has sharp teeth and a name that no one speaks aloud."

Dalia's voice was steady, but hushed now, "What name?"

The woman's sharp gaze snapped up to her. Then past her right at Thomas.

"You already know it."

His breathing stopped for half a second. Dalia felt the shift behind her. The woman turned the cup once more, her face hovering above it now as she glared at the leaves.

"It wants fire, wants to watch it all burn."

She paused for only a moment, "It wants to be remembered."

Dalia's posture held straight, but Thomas could feel the tension in her shoulders. She asked then, softly, "Will it get what it wants?"

The woman looked up. Then spoke calmly: "Only if the man behind you stays."

Thomas inhaled sharply. Dalia then craned her neck up to look up at him, and he was already watching her. He was already waiting, his face unreadable but his eyes were burning.

Thomas simply just helped her up, adjusting her coat around her shoulders without being asked. The cat followed.

And together─the woman in pink and the man in black, the doctor and the gangster─they walked away.

And behind them, the gypsy woman had whispered something under her breath that only the cat heard.

The market was nearly empty now, the sky had gone a deep lavender color and the wind picked up as it trailed the ends of her long hair the same way his coat flapped here and there.

Thomas opened the back door of the car for her, the driver already waiting. But she didn't step in right away.

Instead, she turned towards the little black shadow that had followed them since they left the restaurant, faithfully curled at Thomas's shoes and watching her with wide green eyes like it had chosen her before she even noticed it.

She picked it up, wrapping it in her coat like petals around a night cloud and Thomas said nothing, he just watched as the cat purred in her arms like it belonged there.

"My girl will love you," she murmured.

Thomas raised an eyebrow, "Your girl?"

"My cat."

She said it simply as if that explained everything. And somehow it did. He didn't argue─he could never say no to her, he simply just helped her into the car and slid into the backseat next to her because something in him told him that she shouldn't be alone right now. That she needed to be held.

So he didn't ask as the car began to drive off, he just simply tucked her into his side, one arm wrapped around her shoulder as her body leaned into his without resistance, her head settling against his chest as the cat's purrs filled the silence.

And the silence wasn't cold. It was protective, as if he held her tight enough, close enough, that whatever had been awakened in that stall might forget it ever saw her.

As the car moved out of the cobbled streets into the fading violet of the evening, Thomas Shelby held the woman he could never quite leave alone─not out of possession or need─but out of fear.

Out of fear that something older than both of them from his own cursed past had just noticed she existed.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

taglist: @moonbeamott

authors note: the story is going to get soooo good! the plot is finally moving along and im so excited to write out the next crazy chapters. thanks for reading! also taglist and dms are always open if anyone wants to be added or just simply chat :)

[hwallazia]

CHIHIRO – 정우영

synopsis . in which you finally let yourself let him go during a cold rainy night

pairing . jung wooyoung & fem!reader

genre . angst (way too much), lovers to exes, non idol!au

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 0,9k

DISCLAIMER! suggestive language (a lot of bad words in here), lots of manipulation and slyness from wooyoung, cold-hearted reader, slight violence (yn smacks wooyoung’s cheek), hints of cheating.

NIC’S NOTES ofc this is based of chihiro by billie eilish. the second i listened to this song, i thought of this angsty scenario. and so i thought it’d be a great idea to put wooyoung as the protagonist bc since enemies to lovers troupe fits him so well, why don’t do it backwards? ;))) alsoo, lowercase is intentional (yep, again)

“yn, come on!” wooyoung shouted as he ran towards you desperately; breath hitching, legs trembling. the only thing he could recognize within his visual field were the ends of your dark hair flying back in goodbye, your heart already very far from his. “don’t be like that. you know this isn’t the way to fix things up.”

your leather boots splashed against the puddles of water generated by the rainy dew that announced a great storm, your hands seeking protection from the cold in the pockets of your coat. you heard wooyoung’s wet footsteps as you saw his figure getting closer to you, alerting you. you stopped dead in your tracks when he forcibly grabbed your wrist, compelling you to look at him, to look at those pleading eyes that manipulated you so much. those goddamned eyes that changed your personality so much. “don’t you fucking touch me.” you huffed sternly, shaking your arm as you tried to escape his grasp, your eyes stabbing daggers into his heart. those merry, stunning, and beaming eyes were replaced by an opaque, lightless gaze. one he’d never forget. since when did you hold so much resentment and hatred for him that you saw him that way? as if you had never loved him. as if you had never felt anything at all.

he let you go the second he understood that you were capable of punching him in the face if he even touched a minimal part of your skin. “fine, i won’t touch ya,” he raised his hands up in surrender. but still he tried to explain himself, even though he knew that he was the last person you wanted to see at the moment, “can’t we talk about this at home? it’s freezing cold out here, and you’re wearing shorts-”

“since when do you care so much?” yes, he was right, your legs quivered as your uneven breathing made your lips release condensed clouds, but you wouldn’t let him know. standing as hard as a rock, you continued, “don’t look for me neither call me anymore. i want nothing to do with you.”

wooyoung’s breath hitched and as he tried to pull himself together, he tried for one last time to convince you and mold your mind. “hey that’s a very hasty decision, don’t you think?” he paused briefly, his sigh exhaled right on your face, “yn, is this because of hana?”

the sound of her name sliding down his tongue was the straw that broke the camel’s back. after everything he had done, he really thought that this was just a little scene of yours? a little whim?

“no! it’s not because of her. it’s because of you!” you finally screamed, your heart winning over the pride that wanted to predominate in you. “you and your stupid manipulations, your excuses, and your fakeness.” your eyes threatened to water, but you wouldn't collapse. not now. “how dare you come after me and try to explain yourself after i found you with her sitting on your lap as you giggled at some of those weird ass jokes of yours.”

“oh so it is because of her,” he got closer to you, more than you would’ve allowed him, your lips being an absurd distance away. “why are you causing all of this when you could’ve just asked me?” his hand began to trail its way up to your cheek, and as soon as he cupped it, your hand slammed against his cheek loudly, pulling his figure to the left. the humidity of your hand and his face making the impact even more painful.

“you... disgusting little shit” your grossed-out expression being visible even for a blind man. “how could i have gotten involved with someone like you?” you sighed to yourself. a moment of silence drowned the conversation. wooyoung facing the ground as you stared sternly at him. but then, you decided to confess, “you know, at first i thought this was a fairytale, my most perfect fantasy. but turns out it was yours, not mine. definitely not mine.”

you resumed, “fuck, i was so blinded.” your palm landed on your forehead as you turned your body and faced up to the night sky, a couple of raindrops decorating your frozen cheeks, “this whole relationship was nothing but your slyness trying to mold my personality and mentality to your whim, wasn’t it?” you didn’t even give him a moment to respond, “who the fuck do you think you are?”

“yn. you’re hallucinating, my love. please, let’s stop all this nonsense-”

“i don’t even recognize you at all.” you spat, your frozen limbs welcoming an intrude, a strange warmness. maybe because you had said what was stuck in your throat for months. finally, you got out of that jail, that imprisoned manipulation that caused you vexation for so long.

“don’t say that. yn-” you observed as his eyes started to well up with tears, but it didn’t hurt you. not anymore. from one moment to the next, jung wooyoung’s existence stopped mattering to you. after such a long time, you became insensitive to those pleading eyes.

“don’t look at me like that. i’m not yours anymore.” you finally sentenced. “goodbye, jung wooyoung.” those were your last words to him so that you turned around and started on your way to, probably, your best friend's house, leaving behind a broken-hearted wooyoung, his eyes being similar to the thousand-yard stare as he watched the ripples of a puddle of water as the rain became heavier and heavier.

probably, you’d meet again in another life, or not. the emptiness you felt at that moment was unexplainable —you’d probably shirk it and let your drunk self take matters into its own hands. but you were sure that jung wooyoung taking your love away from you wouldn’t be so easy to forget.

| masterlist

[bronze-and-silver-keys]

i was telling my sister about the ghost au and she said "i think it would be cool if everyone alive can see the ghosts of the people who were executed because they're the ones who voted for them and sent them to their deaths" and i think you mightve said at one point that the "killer" is a more literal thing but. thoughts on that

I actually had the loopholes of the ghost au on my mind since this post and there are definitely cool things I can do with it, SO I will be answering a lot of the questions brought up by that previous post because I think it would be sick as fuck and add to the uneasy atmosphere of the killing games themselves

Spoilers for THH, SDR2, and NDRV3 below

Can Makoto see Chihiro? (In one of the FTEs he reccomends training with Mondo)

I would imagine Makoto is kind of haunted by all of the people that died in the killing game, including Junko, both figuratively and literally. He'll catch glimpses of their ghostly forms out of the corner of his eye, in the bathroom mirror, in the shadows.

I want to see this boy driven insane by the constant reminder of all the people he couldn't help or felt so responsible for dying. I want more of that scene in DR3 where Makoto volunteers to watch the killing game video and sees everyone that died.

I love Makoto, but I love subjecting him to endless despair even more.

Can Aoi see Sakura?

Can Hiro/Syo see Sakura (because they think they killed her)

Similar to Makoto, Aoi sees Sakura everywhere as a ghostly figure that's not completely there. She'll see her at the end of a hall, turning a corner, and shout her name and bolt after her, only to find it empty as she breaks down from the guilt of not being able to stop her and essentially handing Sakura her own death.

For Hiro it'd be similar, because he believes in ghosts (as shown by his insistence in the 5th trial that Kyoko was a ghost), but he'd be more jumpy.

Genocider Syo wouldn't be as prone to seeing her ghost, but Toko would be the same as Hiro. Seeing her everywhere and being terrified to sleep at night.

Can Nagito see Twogami?

During the first investigation and trial, I think he would be able to see Twogami's silhouette when it hangs around Teruteru and passes silent judgment. I like to think he'd at least feel some guilt over it. Yes, he set this all up to start the killing game, but Twogami did this to protect him. He gave his life for him. How could that person who pulled you back from the fate you created with your own hands, only to fall victim to it himself, just fade away entirely?

After Teruteru’s execution, the sightings of Twogami became less frequent, until they disappeared altogether. Until he died, of course.

Can Sonia see Hiyokos ghost because she told her to go to the music venue to tie her kimono?

The guilt of that would definitely chase her, and only build more after Gundham's death (the betrayal and the thought that she could've stopped him [she couldn't. His fate was inevitable]) and the fifth trial (she knew the bombs were fake, and this piece of information eventually helped condemn Chiaki to her fate).

I would argue she felt partially responsible for Mahiru and Peko's deaths as well. It was her enthusiasm over Sparkling Justice that gave Peko the idea of her cover to be voted as the blackened, and just inspired a large part of the murder overall.

She loves to talk about her interests, but refrains from speaking about them, just in case someone used that information for a murder. She would see Hiyoko in mirrors constantly. Every interaction she had with the Devas hurt more than the last. Nagito and Chiaki are always just out of view.

I never thought about how haunted Sonia would be by just trying to help keep everyone safe, and have some kind of normalcy by making friends and talking about her interests. Huh.

Can Maki see Ryoma (<- Because they swapped Motive Videos and that gave Ryoma less will to live)

Ryoma would hang out a lot in his lab after he died, thinking about his life, what went wrong, why no one was left for him outside of the academy.

The night after the trial, Maki stops by his lab, posture stiff and shifting from one foot to the other, and start apologizing to the empty air. After Kokichi revealed her true talent, she doesn't want to be seen as just a killer. She feels guilty about giving him the motive video, even if she didn't know what was on it. She apologizes for killing him before Kirumi dealt the final blow.

Ryoma suddenly appears before her while she's finally starting to tear up and her throat is closing. There he is in front of her, clear as day, reassuring her that it wasn't her fault. He would've found out one way or another. He should've been stronger, he should've fought for the others inside of the academy and made an effort to be closer to them. He shouldve made them his reason to live. He just wasn't strong enough.

He tells her to live. Even if you have no one out there, live. Live for yourself. Live for the friends you will make in the future. Live for the days when the sun is shining while rain pours down on everything. Live for the trill a cat makes when disturbed by pets during a nap in the sun. Live for all the color in the world, for the music, for the intoxicating scent of sweets and fresh bread. Live, damn it.

Can Himiko see Tenko? (<- Himiko was supposed to die at the seance)

Sometimes, when she can't sleep, Himiko will sit up in bed, and see Tenko's familiar outline sitting in the chair by her bed, watching over her. Every time, she breaks down into a mess of tears and repetitious apologies.

Can Maki see Kokichi? (<- we still don't know if the poison killed Kokichi before the press)

Teehee I'm already writing a fic about this with canon divergence (it's in my pinned post, if you haven't read it please do I'm working on a new chapter) BUT if we stay with canon, with Kaito being the Blackened:

Maki would never see but always hear both of them. She would hear them bickering just out of sight nearby constantly. Both of them would greet her in the morning, wish her a good night. She would be sure she was going insane from the guilt.

If she hadn't intervened and fired the crossbow, maybe she wouldn't have had to go through the heartache that was the entire 5th trial.

Can Himiko see Kaito (<- Gave him the crossbow/weapon to fight Kokichi with.)

This is an instance where i don't think she would have as strong a reason to feel responsible for his death. I believe she would see it more that she did what she could to help him, but have no real power in the whole situation. That doesn't mean she doesn't miss the hell out of him. He was the last remnant of Tenko she really had. They acted so similar.

[shsl-hubris-guy]

every time I replay the THH chapter 1 trial I get a little more annoyed at this fucking cast. Like, I get that the reason no one investigated and all the debates are Baby Questions For Babies is because they're focusing on teaching you the mechanics with easy questions, I get that, I really do. However, having a grand total of TWO PEOPLE actually TRY investigating, and the vast majority of the cast never so much as LOOKING AT the crime scene is so fucking infuriating. Like half the trial would'nt even be necessary if anyone had actually bothered trying.

The only characters who even SEE the crime scene are Makoto, Kyoko, Mondo, Sakura, and presumably Hiro since he's the one who carried Makoto to the gym. Two of those characters were only guarding the body and did it expressly so they wouldn't have to investigate for real. One of those characters then spent the entire investigation in a panic attack(valid). Chihiro was mourning Mukuro(also valid). Literally everyone else heard Celeste read out the Monokuma File and decided they were All Done. All Done! Like guys. Guys. Byakuya and Celeste in particular. What the fuck. What the fuck guys. No wonder Leon didn't confess he probably would've been told how noble he was for not assuming the worst in Makoto 😭