#EDIT I FORGOT A WORD IN THE TITLE LET ME GO DIE IN A HOLE NOW

[lemonofthevalley]

haiii new fic :3

[monstersandmaw]

Male drider x female reader - Part Three (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Sorry for the huge delay on posting this - I was prepping to drive halfway up the country last week, and then when we got here my mother in law fell and badly broke her arm at the shoulder, and had to go to the local hospital, with surgery scheduled for Monday, so it’s been... busy...

Here’s part three of cranky spooder, with part four (final, long, and nsfw) scheduled for next Wednesday so that even if there’s more drama up here in the Lakes, you’ll still get your story.

This one is shorter, but I still hope you enjoy it. The fact that he's a widower is brought up, and the fire in which his wife and unborn eggs died is also mentioned, but briefly, and in no real detail. Hope you enjoy getting to know him a little better, and we find out his name in this one too.

On Monday morning, you pushed the door open with no small degree of trepidation, but found it deserted. Your task for that morning would take you up the wooden and brass ladders into the upper reaches of the library shelves, up and down, up and down. It was exhausting, but you welcomed the exertion after days of standing over piles of books and noting down titles.

On your fifth trip down, arms laden with books, you heard your name spoken from below, but as you looked down, your foot slipped, and the books rained down to the ground.

With a shout, you scrabbled for the ladder rung but missed, and found yourself falling through the void behind you. There were easily fifteen feet between you and the hard floor, but before you could even process what was really happening, something cushioned your back and you bounced softly, swaying perhaps four feet off the ground.

Looking around, you found that you were lying in a hammock of white webbing, slung hastily from a shelf nearby and gripped in the front talons of a drider’s two front legs.

Carefully, he lowered it to the ground and held out his hand to you. Shaking, you stepped from the webbing, too surprised to notice that it wasn’t sticky, and let him lead you back to the table. “Are you alright?” he asked.

You nodded, adrenaline still flooding through you.

“I thought I wasn’t going to catch you for a second there.”

“Thank you,” you managed. “That would have been a nasty fall…”

“I shouldn’t have distracted you like that. It was thoughtless of me.”

Looking up at him as he cringed away slightly, you found yourself asking, “What’s your name?”

“My name? Why?”

You shrugged. “Everyone calls you ‘the master’, but you’re not my master. I don’t work here.”

“Yes you do,” he said, glancing at the table groaning with books for reshelving.

“Only for another four months,” you said. “I mean… I’m not part of your staff. I don't know what to call you.”

He swallowed thickly and half turned from you, showing you his profile. He had a slightly hooked nose and a sharp chin, and his dark, glowering brows didn’t lend any softness to his already angular and gaunt face. “Gilvas,” he said, so softly you nearly missed it. “My name is Gilvas.”

“Well, Gilvas,” you said with a faint chuckle, “I think we’ve got to find a way to stop scaring the living shit out of each other whenever we meet… Unless you want to keep shaking me from the stacks like an apple from a tree…”

He stepped back then and blinked softly. The tiniest smile graced his lips and he stared at you. “Perhaps we should,” he said. Taking another few steps back, his legs moving like silent mechanical levers in an inventor’s toy, he swallowed again and sighed. “What are you working on today?”

Your gaze dropped to the scattered books and you picked one up and held it out to him. “See for yourself.”

He reached falteringly for the book and missed, eyelids fluttering. “Like I care anyway,” he said, turning and leaving.

“Wait,” you called. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”

At that, he halted again. “Excuse me?”

“I forgot…” you admitted. “I forgot that…”

“That what?”  he snarled, rounding on you and rearing up again, though only slightly this time. His pendulous body acted as a counterweight and he hung there like a nightmare between the shelves. “That I can’t see you in this light? That catching you was a literal shot in the dark? That I can’t read the title of a book this close to my face?” He brandished the tome before flinging it roughly into the depths behind you.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly.

Your admission must have taken the wind out of him because he sagged, returning his lethally-clawed spider legs to the ground again and turning away, resting his weight on the shelf with a hand as he did so. “I shouldn't have lost my temper,” he said quietly, and then left.

Chance meetings with him after that seemed to occur more regularly, though none matched that one for drama, to your relief. Finally, on one rainy afternoon as you stood by the window taking a break, he approached you. His hair was tied back off his face that day, revealing its gaunt angles and bruised-looking shadows. He was clearly a wreck of his former self, but you thought you could see the ghost of who he had been.

“You’ve finished the first four sections,” he stated.

You turned from the rainy view and nodded. “Yeah. It’s still a lifetime’s work to fix all this, you know? I’m just grouping it by category. If you want a detailed catalogue of everything that’s in here, you need to hire someone permanently.”

He nodded. “I’m aware. Though frankly, I can’t see the point. When I die, the whole estate will be broken up anyway.”

The bluntness of his words took you by surprise and you paced over to him. He wavered, as if on the point of stepping back into the safety of the shadows, but he remained where he was. He had the body of a black widow spider, you had come to realise, with the black carapace marked with the hourglass of red. The red streak in his hair highlighted it, and the colour was picked up again in his inhuman, garnet-red eyes and in the swirling, watercolour birthmark across the right side of his face and neck.

“Don’t say that,” you breathed.

“Why not?” he scoffed. “It’s the truth. I have no heirs.”

“Gilvas…” you began, but you stopped. It wasn’t your place. In the months you’d been here, all the two of you had discussed was poetry and shared the odd comment on whatever your current topic was.

With a long inhale, he said, “Tell me about yourself?”

“What about me?” you laughed. “I’m an archivist, my best friend is an orc, I’ve lived in Starfall Springs all my life, save for going to the university at Old Trollbridge, and —”

“What college?”

“At Trollbridge?” you asked. “Lady Francis.” Lady Francis of the Barbed Arrow, to give it its full title, but no one called it that.

He smiled. “I was at Calnehouse.”

Something softened in him then as he trailed his elegant, if bony, fingertips along the edge of the table.

“Met my wife there.”

Your heart leapt. This was the first time he’d ever mentioned her - or anything personal really. “What did she study?” you asked in a whisper.

“Foreign languages,” he said, voice catching. “She was brilliant.”

“You must have loved her very much…” you offered, your words feeling empty and inadequate.

Meekly, he nodded. “She would have liked you.”

“Oh?”

“Mm.”

With a shy smile, you ventured, “May I ask why?”

He twitched his head in a ‘follow me’ gesture, and you walked by his side to the back of the library. A panel stood between two wide bookshelves, and he pressed a rosette amid the ornate carving. With a click, it sprang free from the wall, and he ducked through it with barely a whisper of room on each side of his body, leaving you to follow after. As the door closed behind you, the corridor was plunged into complete darkness.

You gasped and shot a hand out for the wall.

“This way. It’s not far,” Gilvas murmured, and a moment later, a shaft of light pierced through the absolute blackness and the pair of you emerged at the other end in an unfamiliar part of the house.

“Where are we?” you asked as you watched him squeeze through and step down into a slightly lower passage. He turned and, to your surprise, offered you his hand.

You took it and found his skin cool, almost cold, and his grip strong despite the slight tremble to his fingers. He steadied you and then let go, allowing you to look around. Portraits hung all down the corridor and you stared from one to the other of them. Most seemed to be of driders, although you picked out a tiefling in one, and what appeared to be a human in another.

Finally, your eyes lighted on a striking likeness of a young, female drider with pure white hair and lavender skin. “Is that…?”

Silently, he nodded and blinked slowly.

You crossed to her and stared up at the modestly sized painting. The drider was laughing, caught on the moment of turning to look out at the viewer, hair swirling. You thought of all the life and vivaciousness he’d missed out on since holing himself up in here after her death. “She’s beautiful,” you choked. “I’m so sorry you lost her.”

“There was a fire,” he said. “Took out the whole east wing. Gutted it. I… I couldn’t reach them.”

“Them?” you blurted unthinkingly.

“She was… She was with…”

A chill plunged through you as you remembered what Naril had told you, and you turned from the painting. “Stop,” you hissed. “You don't have to relive that. I’m sorry.”

He blinked down at you, face achingly sad. “I’m glad you came here, you know?”

“I thought I was just a nuisance, reorganising all your books and getting in the way…”

He managed a weak, wonky smile and shook his head. “This place has been the same for too long.”

With a quick glance back over your shoulder at the laughing drider, you asked, “How… Low long?”

“Nine years,” he said. “She died in our last year of university. In the spring.”

“And you’ve lived here alone all this time?”

“I’m not alone,” he said, turning and looking pointedly down the length of the corridor.

Frowning, you turned and found Chiara standing at the far end, gawping at the pair of you. “My lord?” the harpy croaked, looking stunned to find you there. “Is…?” she looked from you to him again. “Is everything alright?”

His lip twitched fractionally, and he nodded. “I was just…” he sighed. “Never mind. I should let you get back to work. I promise not to shake you from the rafters again.”

“Only if you promise to catch me,” you grinned as he opened up the passageway for you.

He faltered. And then nodded. “Deal.”

Final Part --->

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I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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[prep4goth]

I wrote a little thing about Alex "Trash Goblin" Torini based off a prompt I saw online. It's finished, though the ending is rushed and I'm bad at grammar so. I wasn't creative enough to come up with a title lmao

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Fandom: They're Watching (2016)

Characters: Alex Torini

Content Warning: swearing, light depictions of violence/gore, mentions of trauma

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Alex began the day similarly to how he’d start each and everyday for the past several months; heart thumping wildly and a cry dying in his throat. The details of the nightmare were unclear. As his heart rate declined, the fucked up imagery would fade into obscured whisps. He can’t remember the last time he woke up in the comfort of his bed. Every morning without fail, Alex came to face down on his couch. Fortunately, it was the largest piece of furniture he owned. He could easily stretch out without even bumping the other end. Sometimes having short legs wasn’t a complete curse. 

Alex, convinced that his bones were made up of 40% calcium and 60% lead, fought the urge to remain in his current position. He felt like a boulder sinking into his sofa. Rolling onto his back, something that should be elementary, required a tremendous amount of effort. His eyes focused on the ugly popcorn ceiling. There was a crack- water damage from his pissbags neighbors above him-  that ran from the furthest corner to the fan. The longer he concentrated, the wider the crack appeared. While he envisioned the crack splitting open and dumping gallons of water on his head, the rational part of Alex’s brain demanded that his body move. 

With an Earth shattering sigh, he dragged himself into a sitting position. Alex rubbed his sore eyes. He couldn’t massage away the dry heaviness that seemed to permanently settle behind his eyelids.  What time did he pass out last night? A glance at his still opened laptop and half empty coffee mug told him it had been an unplanned slumber. He’d probably intended to only rest his tired eyes for a moment and slipped into unconsciousness. Just as he had done the previous night. And the night before that. And so on and so forth. His couch had transformed into his office/bedroom/dining area. 

Alex’s left arm was stiff from being tucked under his skull; a makeshift pillow. The tips of his fingers buzzed. Though, whether or not it was from holding that particular position or the dog bite, Alex had no clue. He curled his fingers into a fist. He watched the muscles in his forearm tense. With a slight grimace, he noted the rippling of the angry, pink marks embedded into his skin. Alex dimly recalled the searing pain of canines sinking into his flesh. He remembered the clink of teeth against bone and the ungodly amount of blood. Alex flinched as if the memory had physically burned him. But no matter how violently he jerked his head, the gruesome images were still imprinted in his mind’s eye. Hand cramping, Alex slowly unfurled his fist. With his fingers fanning out, he shook his hand until the cramping dissipated. It made no difference what he did. Numbness spread from the pads of fingers to his wrist, but feeling would eventually creep back. It always did. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex mentally prepared himself for another day of pacing his cramped apartment, slowly deteriorating his vision via computer screen, and consuming unhealthy amounts of coffee. That last one, however, was only achievable by getting his ass off the couch. As sizable as the couch was, it was destroying his back. Alex braced his hands against his lower back as he hefted himself onto his feet. He twisted side to side, spine popping obscenely loud in the quiet apartment. 

Alex scooped up his phone from the coffee table, thumb pressing the home button. Though, the screen remained black. Well, fuck me. I forgot to charge this bitch. He realized with a weak chuckle. Not that he really cared that his phone died in the middle of the night. He hardly used it aside from emailing clients and mindless mobile games. Alex reflected on how he unintentionally severed ties with most if not all his friends while he plugged his phone in to charge. Occasionally, a film buddy would reach out, but responding to pointless texts was rather taxing. His friends had eventually gotten the memo. They figured he was pretty much useless. 

Once, Alex was convinced the flame of desire he had for creating would never flicker out. He was determined to make a name for himself in the film industry. Being a sound guy for some home improvement show made for middle aged and hobbieless parents was not the end goal, but a starting point. Fresh out of highschool and hardly scraping by, Alex thought it was an incredible gig to dip his feet in. The plan was to save up enough money to move out of his parent’s place and gain some behind-the-scenes experience. He’d graduate to bigger and better things; directing. Plans change and aspirations are grated into something more realistic. Alex had not minded flying from country to country, slinging a boom mike over his shoulder. The fact that his boss wasn’t pleasant, to say the least, or that he could only afford a shitty apartment with cracks in the foundation hardly phased him because at least he had Greg. That bastard was the only thing keeping Alex from jumping ship and enrolling in law school like Alex’s dad begged him to. Then they visited fucking Moldova. 

Moldova was a pair of bloodshot eyes that tracked his every move and reeked of smoke. Alex could feel its glare sorching his back every time the memories began to fade. The smoke burnt his lungs, choking him with shame if he ever attempted to forget it. Meeting the accusing eyes meant addressing the unbridled guilt eating away at his stomach whenever he so much as breathed. The weight of its scrutinous gaze left Alex wondering why he was the one left to poorly recite the witch’s tale. According to the witch possessing Becky, Alex was destined to capture the chaos that unfolded that night. Why him, out of every other person, she failed to clarify. 

The witch’s carnage was the last thing Alex filmed. Everytime he picked up a camera, his stomach churned. He feared he’d lift the camera to his face and see Becky’s warped grin on the other side. Wallace, unfortunately the only other person alive, had kindly kicked Alex to the curb. The footage would never see the light of day. People didn’t seem to question the show’s new host, or even Kate’s whereabouts. Greg and Sarah, nameless crew behind the cameras, hardly hurt Wallace’s pockets to replace with other nameless crew. That soulless, corporate prick didn’t even blink upon hearing that his own niece had met the business end of an axe. 

There was no hazard’s pay, not even after a 300 hundred pound man nearly strangled Alex to death. Alex needed to find another source of income to keep his lights on. So, he started editing other people’s work. The majority of his clientele were grown men screaming at video games and indie artists. Humorously enough, Alex favored editing the least. He was equipped with basics, but found it skull- splittingly tedious. It required sitting in one place for too long and extreme focus- something Alex had to shut his mouth for more than five minutes to accomplish. After watching his closest friends die horribly, however, Alex found it was much easier to be silent. A chatter box to a complete mute in months. Now, Alex slipped into the monotonous mechanics without complaint. The simple repetitiveness of splicing clips and adjusting audio levels allowed him to drift through the week without thought. It was slightly pathetic. He willingly chose to rot his brain on a day to day basis for the convenience of not having to think. 

Clearing his throat, Alex realized he’d been standing next to his charging phone for several minutes. He frequently caught himself falling down a rabbit hole of damaging thoughts. His forehead creased, fingers twitching against his phone. He ignored the throbbing pulse where the scar from the dog bite was. Powering his phone on, Alex didn’t expect anything exciting. Maybe an email asking for an update or a notification from one of his various games. He was unpleasantly caught off guard by the blinking ‘missed call’ icon. Upon further inspection, it was a missed call from Bernadette- an old friend Greg introduced Alex to. 

Apparently, Greg had played gigs at some dive bar frequently enough to earn some “street cred”as he often bragged about. Bernadette, when she wasn’t lugging camera equipment around archaic buildings, was bussing tables at that very same dive bar. With similar senses of humor,  which consisted of constantly taunting poor, outnumbered Greg, Alex and Bernadette were instant pals. They were too eerily similar for Alex to develop any feelings beyond platonic, despite Greg’s occasional teasing. Bernadette was the only person left in Alex’s life that was too damn stubborn to let go. Desperate for some form of human reaction, Alex craved reaching out. He tried almost daily. Alex had typed out several messages to Bernadette but erased every single one. Of all people, Bernadette deserved to know what happened; she was practically a sister to them. Except Alex had no clue how to tell her. Whether it was guilt or fear of her not believing him, his basic vocab always disintegrated. There were literally no words to express the dread and sorrow that hollowed out his chest. Better to not have a conversation period.

Tucked away in the dusty corner of Alex’s brain, was a locked chest of traumatic souvenirs. It was splitting at the seams, yet Alex continuously stapled the cracks closed. He ignored the splintering wood. Any day, the chest would finally collapse under the weight and Alex would be flooded with blood tinged memories. He concluded a conference with Bernadette over the phone would be the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Or, in this case, the very thing that protected Alex from the shitshow that was himself. Alex had spent months building that damn chest. He’d lost friends and proper vitamin D, but was still clinging onto a microscopic amount of sanity. He was alive at least. Breathing stuffy apartment air and with the diet of a broke college student, granted. But that was more than Greg and Sarah could say. 

His phone screen dimmed as he internally battled himself. He needed to talk to Bernadette, yes, but he was terrified. There was no danger in listening to his voicemail. Alex inhaled sharply as if he were about to be held under water as he tapped the message icon. He tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. 

“What’s up, assclown! �� Bernadette’s recorded voice shouted into the receiver. Alex winced at her sharp volume, but chuckled regardless. 

“I know you’ve been avoiding me since you got back from where-ever-the-fuck, but that ends today. No more hiding out in that closet you call an apartment- time to get rolling, babbbby!” Alex shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Hearing her voice was a breath of fresh air. That feeling of lonely claustrophobia pressing on his chest faded slightly. Though, he was nervous for where this was heading. He pressed his lips into an anxious line.

“I don’t know what all went down over there, but it’s been months, man. You can’t keep this agoraphobe act up forever. That goes for that sonova bitch, Greg too.” Her laugh was soft, but still audible. Alex felt that familiar pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. God, she thought Greg was alive and avoiding her. Throat tightening around a baseball sized lump, Alex pressed his knuckles against his mouth. His knuckles were flushed hard enough that his teeth dug into his lower lip. 

“Did you guys decide you’re bigshots now? Cause, newsflash- that’s utter bullshit.” Bernadette must have meant for her tone to sound teasing, but the hurt was evident in her voice

“I’ve left Greg a fuckton of messages, but he hasn’t even opened my texts. If I didn’t know better, I’d be worried. But regardless, I know you’re back from Europe, so no excuses. Remember that show I do, the fuckin, uh, ghost hunting crap? Well, we’re down a camera and I thought you’d might be interested. Last time we spoke- which was, like, a century ago- , you said you needed a job, so… Here ya go, bud. It’s better pay than whatever you’re probably doing right now. Even if you don’t need a job, the least you could do is call me and tell me yourself. Just so I at least know you’re still breathing.” There was a beat where Bernadette paused to inhale quietly. She was right, though. Their last conversation was brief and impersonal. He offered the simplest explationations; the shoot was canceled due to creative differences and Alex was out of a job. As for what he yarn he spun for Greg, Alex didn’t recall. Probably some bullshit timeline where Greg was backpacking through Europe. 

Bernadette wrapped up her message with a final jab at Alex’s lack of communication skills. In a poor attempt to center his roaring thoughts, Alex rested his phone against his forehead. The guilt that was slowly swirling in his gut developed into a full on Tsunami. For a moment, he wondered if it was possible to drown in it. Alex no longer had the option. Bernadette deserved the truth, no matter how painful. 

More than that, Alex needed to get the fuck out of this place. His apartment had lost its safe haven appeal and felt more like a cage closing in on him. Whether or not he was prepared to handle a camera again was a different story. He didn’t resent the aspect of working with people again either. At one point, Alex very nearly achieved his dreams. It was still camera work, but he was more than likely rusty from his months-long hiatus anyway. He would have stood in his living room all day if he tried to debate why he should or shouldn’t take the job. This meant, on the other hand, calling Bernadette back. And eventually, he’d have to tell her that Greg was dead. How the fuck was he supposed to do that? Alex had survived an encounter with an actual blood-hungry witch, but his heart shuddered at the thought of Bernadette labeling Alex a lying ass and cutting him off completely. 

Finally, Alex worked up the nerve to press the ‘call back’ option. His eyes stung with unshed tears as his heart nearly beat out of his ribcage. Alex tightly squeezed his eyes shut. The third ring droned obnoxiously loud and Alex silently hoped she wouldn’t pick up. But when did Alex ever get what he wanted? There was a soft click, followed by Bernadette exclaiming that Alex was a fucker. 

“Good to hear your voice too, Bernie.” He shot for humor, but the tremble in his voice betrayed his bravado. Bernadette either failed to notice or was feeling generous. 

Before she had the chance to strike up small talk, Alex launched into action. “Is that job offer still on the table?”

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[inkskinned]

literally just a dumb unorganized list of school tips

source: im a grad student. i’ve had a lot of school. also i’m adhd & mentally ill and require +8 organization. this is mostly directed @ college students, but maybe high school students can use it too, fuck, idk, it’s been forever since i was stuck in that hell hole

just say “professor” either ur using the correct title for a person (will make them feel good) or you’re giving them a bigger title on the assumption they deserve it (which will make them feel good) and also prevents having to ever i mean ever use their names

talk at least 1 time a week in each class, aim for 1 time a day. even lecture classes. i fucking hate talking in front of more than 5 people, so what i would do is prepare a question about the hw/etc (even if i didn’t need it answered) to ask the professor after class so they saw me and got used to me and saw i was invested in their class. about 89% of teachers - if they see you try, they will pass you. i mean it’s literally that easy. i know people who went from like a c- but because they legit tried, their grade got bumped up to a b-. 

if u have to bring a laptop, pre-download the required material/screenshot it, and then turn off your wifi. it’s too easy to not listen.

physical writing will always give you more information recall over typing.

nobody cares about stupid shit anymore trust me they don’t remember that you were accidentally locked in a towel out of your room bc they have their own dumb shit that happened.... in college all the “cringe culture” turns into “god i wish that were me” culture ... wear ur onesie to a party trust me you make +800 friends and 799 of them will be girls telling you you’re adorable and they’d die for you

about locking urself out.... if ur like me and can breeze past post-it notes placed in obvious areas, don’t be a dumb bitch and rely on post-it-notes. while most schools offer 1 free lockout, dont rely on it - it once took 2 hours before someone could get to me. i was in a towel, which meant no phone. so like. anyway, what i do now is i put something on the handle of the door i have to open/unlock. i can’t just open the door w/out the thing falling down and making a loud “you dumb bitch unlock the door before u shower” sound. 

this works for all important don’t-forget it things. other obstacles i’ve used to remind myself to do something include: putting a chair with my wholeass posterboard in front of the door, an entire printer with a single piece of paper that just read “for the love of god check to be sure you have that essay”, and a recycling bin i kept forgetting to empty. guess what bitch finally emptied the bin once it was between me and a swift exit!

no offense and like the whole “it’s the best years of your life!” thing is great but in reality everything goes better scholastically when you treat it as “i came here to win, not to make friends.” i still did make friends, went to parties every weekend, was popular enough i’d be invited to several on one night - but i came there to win. when i put my scholastic life and my mental health first, i went from a 2.0 to a 3.98. yes you can, bitch.

you’re spending the money. don’t squander it. trust me when i say i know plenty of people who breeze through, bc you often can. but like. don’t. challenge yourself bc like. talk about an investment.

if you hate your major, change it. don’t make your life something you can’t stand. on that note, do NOT agree 100% to a track until you have at least some experience in the field. i cannot tell u how many ppl i know who got their whole masters/phd program done, walked into their new profession, and were like, Oh Fuck, I Can’t Live Like This.

college literally offers so many free things and if you’re not taking advantage of them whenever possible i get it but like. try to take advantage of them. this is everything from your gym (which probably has free classes dude) to clubs to like. sober events. these sober events are so ... fuckin good dude i’ve made mason jars with little plants in em... bee aviaries... candles.... go to the free stuff

oh ps on free stuff i wanna say about 4 of 5 days there’s free food on campus just look for things like job fairs, presentations, or discussion groups. also while you’re there at the job fair like. u know, go to the job fair in earnest

i took off 2 years to work and also to just. recover from my bullshit. and it took me 6 years and 3 schools to get my bachelor’s. it wasn’t easy but bitch i lived. there’s no such thing as “too long” to graduate if that’s truly what you want to do.

if on the meal plan, eat as clean as you can the first week. then introduce each part of the cafeteria’s possibly-food-poisoning-creating foods one at a time. give @ least 2 days between each experiment so you know for sure if you get sick what caused it. i literally never eat meat at school but you can still get sick off of unwashed lettuce/salad dressing that hasn’t been refrigerated properly/weirdass things you won’t even think of. this prevents like. dying in a public bathroom.

white loaf bread can be gross & boring. discount bakery section for your slightly chewy artisianal bread needs. if overstale, either toast it or dunk it into water and microwave it (unless u got an oven. use the oven if u can)

steal as many apples from the dining hall/events/etc as physically possible just do it they keep FOREVER and @ some point you’ll be like. fUCK i need a nutrition. ps if you’re keeping them in ur backpack (i wouldn’t keep more than 2) make sure to wrap w/a few paper towels so if you drop your bag you don’t get apple mush

write it all down bitch. “i’ll remember it” no you won’t. unless you are capable of remembering every idea on this list and in order, you won’t remember it. in general, if you write something 3 times, you will recall it correctly at least 80% of the time. i also read it out loud to myself, bc, you know, auditory recall

DO NOT just put your assignment at the top of your notes, unless you’re 100% sure that will work for you. in most cases, it’s much better to have a planner/agenda/place you expect to look for assignments. +7 points if you lie to yourself about deadlines and move them all up.

like not to sound too much like a DARE ad but like. if you don’t like it/don’t want it, don’t fuckin do it. the idea that “there’s nothing to do if you don’t party” is such bullshit. like i promise if you’re like “i am a grouch and want to stay in and binge netflix” about 45 ppl will show up in pjs like “bitch fullscreen it, im a grouch too.” there’s also like. the chance to just.... not overindulge. on wednesdays i have “wine wednesdays” where we sit around and drink a glass of wine while we do our hw. it’s chill and friendly instead of like. drink until u vomit. don’t feel like you either gotta slam the breaks or the gas pedal, is what i mean.

PLEASE know the signs of alcohol poisoning/overdose. most schools have a “Safety Always Matters Most” policy, which means that you can call for help w/out getting into trouble. if you think someone is in danger, act. this also goes for making sure ppl get home safe even if they’re just incapacitated, not poisoned. step in, dudes.

also just. notice when ur starting to rely on stuff too much. i’m super easily addicted to things, so i keep a healthy distance from liquor. i don’t let myself “drink to feel better” bc that’s a scary, scary thing to link to feeling better. if you or somebody u know starts drinking all the time/gets anxious if they don’t drink/drinks in the daytime .... get help. schools have counselling services for a reason.

you’re gonna get a cold/flu of some sort in the first 2 months just brace for it. in the meantime, drink vitamin c, try not to touch too many handles, and when people say “there’s something going around” believe them.

watch kaplan nike just do it 

if you can teach it, you know the material. a super good way of knowing if you studied the right way is to try and teach the material to a stuffed animal/imaginary class.

“i don’t know how to study” bitch me too the fuck. this is usually bc we’ve been taught that studying is just sitting down and staring @ ur notes. it’s not. it’s different for everyone, and you need to understand it’s 99% preventative care. if you don’t go to the class or do the homework, studying is going to fucking suck, bc you’re learning the material all at once for the first time. the place you should consider “studying” is “i’m confident in 70-90% of the material, but need to review.” do not let yourself fall behind .... just go to office hours and ask questions if ur not getting something. studying should feel like you’re remembering what you already knew but kinda forgot, not like you’ve been blindsided.

the whole “writing it down in ur own words” while u have been told this 700 times it really helps bc it means u gotta translate it through your own understanding. if you can’t, and it’s not bc the material seems too obvious to you to state in another way - ask yourself if you don’t understand the material. chances are u are missing a bit of info.

i know it’s like A Thing that Some People do but i never had the mental health points for it but i know some people just take 15 minutes after every class to review their notes. since i’m 100% early to every class ever, obnoxiously so, i try to do it before class. having the last class’s notes up in my head super helps. like. put down the phone i know you’re socially anxious me too but review those notes. chances are if u start flipping through pages other ppl will too. this is also fun bc as soon as you start this whole thing, at least one person will be like “is there a test?” no bitch there’s no test but im gonna be ready when there is!

literally so much of success is fucking posturing i could link about 800 peer-edited studies that show that when a student is expected to do well (and knows they are), they do well. like i literally didn’t change my appearance at all, never bothered to look nice (once winter hits i wear 67 layers all the time), but when i showed up after my 2 years off from school, i presented myself with the whole “i came here to win” vibe and people... really respected me? i mean in hs i remember ppl saying shit like “yeah, well, you aren’t gonna have the homework”. by the time i was in college i had an honest-to-god conversation which included someone being like “so tell me what you’re overachieving at right now” like they just expected it from me. wild.

i live by “bite off more than you can chew, and then CHEW IT” but it’s probably unhealthy. the truth is that i have a lot of energy all the time (lmao adhd!!!) and i used to get told i was “trying too hard” and for a long time (still???) i didn’t (i don’t?) know what that was, you know, bc i had a D average, clearly i wasn’t trying. it turns out i was just. putting all my energy into stuff that wasn’t making me happy like toxic friendships etc. when i decided “nope, all this energy is for me and my schoolwork”..... uhhhhh suddenly i was a golden child and everyone praised my try-hardness ... it’s a fuckt up system tbh

take at least 1 class just for fun. i try to do that every semester. it helps break up all the requirements. if you’re like an engineer and got no time or credits left to spend, try to audit your fun course.

make ur advisor love you i don’t care what it takes make them cupcakes show up to thank them i dONT CARE just do it 

the library isn’t always the best place. if i start getting anxious bc i pavlovian train myself that library=work, i find a new place to go to do hw. try to go outside if you can!!! not like where i live bc like it’s snow all the time but try. a little green really really really helps depression. 

if you’ve been in the same “Studying” place for 1 hour and haven’t done anything the chances are Something Isn’t Right. first, look @ ur body. are you not focusing bc of some pressing physical need? sometimes just taking a shower and coming back helps. are you uncomfy? are you too comfy and going to sleep? if body okay, look @ the material. do you not understand it? do you just need to switch to a new topic for a little bit? can you find a youtube video that will help you better understand it? make notes on what you don’t get so you can ask in the next class. if it’s not the material, it’s not ur bod, check the Actual Space. sometimes just getting up, going for a short walk to a new place, and trying it there actually? really works? if none of this is working.... try ur brain next. hardest to reset bc like, what, turn it on and off again? i use things like caffeine, a short workout, a nap, or a podcast all to just... give me a little boost. 

don’t be afraid to leave. i mean this about class, friend groups, and the college ur at. just get up on outta there if ur not feelin it. i cannot recommend “drop the class” enough. even if it’s a required course see if u can switch the times if u hate the professor day 3 it’s not gonna get better just get the fuCK out

don’t nap in the same position u go to sleep in, nap upside down w/ur head away from ur pillow. don’t ask me why but it works to 1. fall asleep faster 2. make sure u sleep okay at night and 3. wake up less annoyed 

on that note don’t ever do anything in ur bed in a sleeping position unless it’s genuinely sleeping in it. body will get confused. just sit up, lazybones.

when/if the library has those therapy dogs during finals week.... just go pet them make the time for it

ask before hugging people, but don’t expect a “yes”

get a backpack that fits and doesn’t hurt ur back u fuckin hippie idc how cool it is to wear ur backpack super low just don’t do it it’s not worth it

the tutoring center is a fucking goldmine.... free essay edits my dudes

bring a fan dorms are always hotter than u expect

switch dorms if u can if u realize ur in the wrong room/wrong roomate like just don’t bother with nonsense

when in doubt, follow preschool rules. tell ppl when they did something cool, just ask when u need help, and be confident even in your mistakes, because at least u tried

[wizardmafianinjapirate]

the sea in the darkness calls

Summary: and the tide rises, the tide falls

In which Viktor is a lost prince and doesn’t know it, Yuuri is a syren who wants to see his Queen happy and Yura is a noble stowaway who wants to be free. 

(And also in which there is no universe where they do not find their way to each other and no universe in which their love does not change the world)

(Title quote from ‘the tide rises, the tide falls’ by H.W.Longfellow)

A/N: Birthday fic for @adreamingsongbird, I’m pretty sure that this will be your last present today and I hope you like it!! You’re an absolutely wonderful person Rimi and I really, really love you!! I hope you have a wonderful year and that you get only the best of what life has to offer because you deserve nothing less!

Chapter 1

It started like this. Falling, hard and fast. Something that must have been an uncontrollable descent into madness. 

It started like this. A wish made under the light of a thousand stars, to hold on and never let go. Though neither of them would remember it later, it started, with a kiss. ------------ Viktor has only ever known the sea. Well no. Not exactly. He's known seagulls and his crew and Makkachin! The light of his life, the star of his heart, his best friend. And he loves the sea. He's had the best moments of his life on it, he's met people he'd be willing to die for on it, hell, there's very few memories he has off of it. It's just that sometimes it gets a little... lonely, is all. Make no mistake, he loves the life he leads adventuring on the seas, and he loves the crew that he's gathered. But none of them understand what it's like to give you life to the sea and have her take and take and take. Sometimes it feels like she's left nothing behind. He thinks the stowaway they found when they left the Royal Port, Duke Nikolai's grandson, Yuri, might come the closest to understanding, but for all his faults, Viktor wouldn't wish the life he's had to lead on him. Giving your heart to the sea, leaves a gaping hole that can never be completely filled. (It has been two decades since he last saw his mother.

She'd warned him. She'd told him, again and again and again to not go too close to the shore, that it would take him away, away from her, from their people, his family- He'd forgotten, too captivated by the water, the waves, that voice. And he's had to live with that since he was seven. It was his fault, all his fault if he'd just listened- He's had to live with that and he thinks that has been punishment enough) Viktor believed that one day, one day, he would find something that made the year's he'd given to the sea (and all the mistakes he's made-) worthwhile. He had to believe. He wanted to believe.

(He needed to believe.)

But belief, did not mean that he would stop searching. All he had left of his mother (their home, their people-) was the seashell crest that he had found on his clothes when he had first washed up at the Royal Port. It was his only physical link to his past and he'd do anything to keep it safe. Unfortunately for him, no sailor or landsman seemed to recognise it. (Which, honestly? Made no sense. The only people who had crests were nobility and it was unreasonable that no one he'd met on all his travels would recognise it.) But Viktor held onto hope that one day he'd find something that would guide him home. And then maybe, he wouldn't be.... sad. Yes, sad, anymore. "Viktor! Yura just threw a bucket of fish at Georgi, get down here and make sure that he doesn't kill the kid!" Well, sad or not, he doesn't have the time to spend (waste) thinking about himself, he has a ship to run. 

---------- Yuuri can feel the magic swirling around him like a tangible thing. The magic he was born with - Shifter Magic - while hard to accurately control, is something that has always answered his call when he's needed it. It used to be small things - changing the colour of his eyes, the shape of his tail - and then larger things as Minako took over his training - but today, with the added knowledge he has gained at Court, today, he can feel all the magic in the water bending to him. It sings, and Yuuri can feel the syren in him trill a reply. Yuuri feels like he could do anything, be anyone and that's what Minako's been trying to teach him, isn't it? The power to give himself the freedom to be anything. He thinks that this is what being invincible feels like. "Well done Yuuri." He starts. He had been so engrossed that he hadn't noticed the queen, the Queen, come up to him. "Th-Thank you, Your Majesty." He says. "Is there anything I can do for you?" "You could resume that lovely show. Has anyone told you how mesmerizing it is to watch you work? If I hadn't studied the subject extensively, I would assume that it was Syren charm - but I have studied the subject and I know enough to know that this? This is all you. And that’s a wondrous thing, Yuuri" Yuuri has died. That's the only reasonable explanation. He's died and ascended to a higher level of existence. Because there is no way that the most powerful shifter ever recognised by the Currents is telling him that his magic is mesmerising. No. Way. "I'll admit - when Minako approached me asking to allow you to study at Court, I had my misgivings. But you've proven them all wrong, Yuuri. And gracefully at that." She laughs, "In fact - I'm sure that if you wanted to, you could ask the Court to help you stage a revolt and they'd create an army to follow you!" Yuuri stiffens, because he loves his queen and he would die for her should she ask, and he says quietly, "I-I'm sorry Your Majesty, but I think you underestimate h-how much the Court loves you." Because everyone knows what she's given up to keep them safe. (Yuuri remembers the stories his mother told him - of how the kingdom rejoiced when the Crown Prince was born. She was one of the first to be appointed to the Queen's Guard and thus has pictures - pictures she's shown him of Queen Vasilisa with the newborn Prince. It is the happiest Yuuri has ever seen her. He also remembers the day his mother came home pale-faced and harried. He remembers her clutching him and his sister to her chest and telling their father in broken tones that the Prince was gone. That he'd been snatched away by the Currents. That the Queen was powerless to stop them. (If she did try, the kingdom would fall - the Currents did not take lightly to being crossed.) She'd said that the Queen could keep track of the Prince's life force but that she couldn't go to him. A law she'd said. Once an untrained Royal left Court, they had to come back themselves and no help could be given or arranged for by a Royal. This meant that not only could the Queen not go - she couldn't send anyone in her place. Which meant that the Crown Prince - all of seven years old - was alone.  "Vasi, gods Toshiya, Vasi says that she can't leave and I've never seen her so devastated and I could never do what she's done, gods.”

He remembers those words. His mother was crying. Yet no one's seen the Queen shed a tear.) The Queen is smiling at him, "You never cease to surprise, do you Yuuri?" He swims forward and offers her his hand, "I-I'm not very sure about surprises Your Majesty, but would you care to join me for some tea? Aunt Minako disagrees but I've always found tea relaxing after practice." She takes his hand and says, "How could I ever turn down tea with you, Yuuri? You always have your mother's blends and those are better than any others in all the realms I've visited. Besides, I still need to talk to you." He frowns, "Is there something wrong Your Majesty?" "Minako submitted your request to visit the Human world with an entourage of your choosing, now that you've mastered giving yourself legs. And I am inclined to approve it, but I would also like to hear you explain why you want to visit the human world and to see whether you can convince me to let you go, hmm? I'll meet you at the pavilion in a few minutes." She let's go of his hand and swims forward to join her Guard and he can see Minako smirking at him - and when did she even get here? He loves his Queen - but she and her Guard terrify him, and he's grown up with a very healthy respect for all of them as a result of it. But, she'd said that she was considering letting him and his entourage go to the human world, and if that was true, if their request might really be granted, then he needs to ensure that they don't fail her final test. Only the best are allowed to venture into that world after all, and she has considered many hopefuls before but none of them have ever made it past tea. However, he thinks that he will make it. He believes in the power they hold together. (And Yuuri can't wait. To see the music and the dancing and the singing he's only ever heard about from his teacher and his mother. To feel the magic of an entirely new world. To go on an adventure.)

(And also to fulfil a promise, no matter that he's forgotten he made it.) (The Currents are churning again.)

(It is time for the Lost Prince to come home)

(Art by the ever-wonderful @riki-cartblog who is an absolute gem and who I am so incredibly lucky to know! It was an absolute honour to work with you Riki, thank you so much!) 

(Edit: Because I’m a moron and an idiot I forgot to mention what a huge thank you I owe to both @adreamingsongbird and @riki-cartblog for being my first friends in the trfl fandom (and what fucking luck is that??? that one of my first friends was the writer herself???) and for just being all round amazing friends in general, I love you guys!!)

You can find the fic on FFN here

[impatient14]

The Sign of Three Sixes

I recently read two wonderful metas that sent my brain into a tailspin. On their own- they are very contradictory to each other, but I think both people are on to something big here and have at least nailed down the largest hunk of what is to be deduced about one Mary Morstan.

These metas by  @consultingeastwind and @marcespot  here and here talk about the possibilities of “Mary’s” origins. In one meta it is theorized that “Mary” is a set of triplets: Gabrielle, Rosamund, & Mary Ashedown (or Sherrinford) going off several very convincing ideas which include my favorite one: “It’s never twins!” and “Identical triplets, one in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat.” In the other it is theorized that “Mary” is coded as being the anti-christ to Sherlock’s Christ coding and is in fact Sherlock’s twin sister. We know there was a girl on the beach with Sherlock when he was playing pirates on the beach with Redbeard (and collectively we say awwww). The girl was singing in a voice over and had a blonde braid running down her neck as she ran after Sherlock. 

Both theories have amazing ideas and excellent work to back up their thoughts. However, together they contradict each other. This problem had me reeling this morning so I decided to take a closer look at both metas and my own ideas and came up with something I think rather...well, insane, but something our fathers might do. 

Fall down yet another rabbit hole with me below the cut.

Alright, so as the title implies we will be discussing numbers today. Even the most casual of viewers has to recognize a pattern when it comes to the numbers 3 and 6 in BBC’s Sherlock. 

There are sets of three’s literally everywhere you look, but they become more apparent after and during the The Sign of Three. Funny that. In that episode we have the title (obviously), the third (fetus) Watson, the triplet deduction, and the Water’s triple robbery (in which they were caught the third time- more on that later). Going from there, we have a very interesting set of three in HLV. 

Well, hello there Mary, Gabrielle, & Rosamund.

We also have an interesting piece of dialouge from MP Moriarty that will lend more to another thought I have about sets of three in BBC’s Sherlock. He says, “Pain, Heartbreak, Loss, Death.”  There are four words here, but that is because the third word is a failure. A failed third attempt. Once again, more on that later.

From here we go to TAB.

 (Quick shout out to an amazing line at the beginning as I speed-watch it again, “In all our adventures together, no case pushed my friend to such physical and mental extremes as The Abominable Bride.”  Um, Yeah. I’ll say. Considering that fact that “The Abominable Bride” is a title best bestowed upon John Watson’s wife and the amount of physical (shot in the chest) and mental (EMP) extremes Sherlock has had to go through since “Mary’s” abomination became apparent, I’d say TAB”s Dr. Watson described Sherlock’s present situation perfectly.)

Alright, back to numbers.

We’ve got Ricoletti saying “You” three times, before she says “Me” and fakes her death, we have Mycroft predicting his death in three years (And Sherlock agrees on the 3 years if Mycroft eats the plum pudding)-

(Holy shit re-watching TAB is a fucking goldmine for TST. I know I touched on it in my EMP meta but I’m going to have to dissect it further and make it its own Meta.)

- and 3 more plum puddings are brought to Mycroft at the end of that scene. 

In TST, we have the word “Vow” spoken three times, we have the three watsons (which was the original name of the episode), three Sherlocks in the mirror in Mycroft’s office (just like Mary in CAM’s office- but I don’t think this implies Sherlock’s a triplet, but that Sherlock’s mind is being fractured into three pieces of his EMP- Pain, heartbreak, loss- more on that in my upcoming TAB meta!), three godparents (this is weird to me), three different AGRA sticks shown, three psat world leaders are listed:Thatcher, Regan, and Stalin, during Craig’s Ostalgie explaination, three AGRA members are assumed killed,and “Mary” tells Sherlock to Save John Watson three times.

So, the number three is important and I think it is most important to Sherlock. The number 3 represents Beginning, Middle, & End.  Sherlock gets three chances, three tries at getting it right. If he doesn’t get it right on the third try- he doesn’t get a fourth. Pain (TAB), Heartbreak (TST), loss (TLD), death (TFP). Sherlock has until the end of The Lying Detective to figure out how to defeat the abominable bride or he will die. Remember, Staying Alive is the Final Problem. 

Now 6.

6, is “Mary’s” number. 

There are sixes everywhere once she is introduced. 

Six months of bristly kisses, six months of Sherlock in exile before his death, AGRA was destroyed six years ago, there was about six months of unaccounted time between the Watson domestic at Baker Street and the Christmas Reconciliation. And there is (obviously) The Six Thatchers. 

If “Mary’s” number is 6, and there are three individual “Marys”- so you don’t add them up) that would make “Mary Watson” equivalent to 666. The title she gave her own daughter.

Enter the Anti-christ Meta above. 

I love this meta. I love it because it is so goddamn dramatic. And who is the fairest drama queen of all? Sherlock Holmes, of course. OF FREAKING COURSE Sherlock would equivocate “Mary” (the woman who took his love and almost his life) to the anti-Christ, when he himself is coded as being a Christ figure. (Resurrection, outstretched arm imagery multiple times, and a close friend who betrayed him)

The theory of “Mary” being a set of triplets that make up the Anti-Christ, who together work to destroy Sherlock and John by orders of The Devil (Moriarty), is something Sherlock’s overly dramatic morphined-out mind would come up with. 

But wait there’s more.

We get this image when John gets off the bus in TST:

I know, could be a coincidence, but hear me out. 

Its not 666. Its 626. Meaning one of the 6′s, isn’t really a 6. Its a 2. Its different.  It is sandwiched between the other two 6′s. EDIT TO ADD: OH SHIT. 6 when divided by three is 2. The third “Mary” may have become a “2″ or not an evil “6″ with Sherlock’s (3) influence....

 So, going along with the triplet meta above, what if one of the “Mary’s” wasn’t so evil afterall. Gabrielle and Rosamund were apart of AGRA, but Mary was not. The real Mary. The meta above theorizes that there was a real Mary at some point, who did work with her sisters for a time before her emotions got the better of her and she was captured. Enter Sherrinford. Now, this could be a codename or it could be the triplets real last name. The man who had a daughter with a braid swimming in a pool, whose Thatcher bust was smashed by Sherlock, his last name is Sanderford. 

Soo...what can we deduce from all of this information?

I haven’t the slightest. No, im kidding. I have a thought. 

Two of the “Mary’s” have been working together to take down Johnlock since TGG. The third is locked up somewhere Mycroft can get in touch with her. He calls her to tell her of her sister’s death at the end of TST. I’m more inclined to believe that one of the “Mary’s” faked her death, rather than sacrificing herself for the sake of drama though. Remember, her motive is Jealousy, as deduced by Sherlock in her Mirror - Norbury. “Mary” is jealous of Sherlock. Most likely for his genius, for his ability to distract her boss- Moriarty, and for the attention and love John gives him. 

So what does all of that mean for the girl with the long braid on the beach in Sherlock’s memory flash?

Obviously, both metas can’t be correct. Sherlock can’t have a set of triplet sisters that he forgot or deleted and then brought one of them home and his parents don’t recognize her. Even with mind altering drugs, this seems implausible. However, he could have deleted ONE sister. A sister that drowned while playing pirates in the ocean with her brother. His parents would happily go along with not mentioning her if it meant the destruction of Sherlock’s mental health. The MP room he keeps Moriarty in is a padded cell and we know that MP are created from rooms Sherlock has been in. (insert crying gif)

So what does this mean for EMP?

Everything.

All that stuff about “Mary” up there, is just a deduction from Sherlock. Its part of his mind palace scenario. He is just trying to figure out how to survive and how to beat her. Does that mean “Mary Watson” is really triplets? Maybe not. But Sherlock has definitely seemed to deduce that she is in his mind. He’s also labeled her the Anti-christ. 

Someone give that man a bejeweled crown please and just be done with it. PURE DRAMA!

This got long. It might get longer. Sorry not sorry.

Tags: @monikakrasnorada @isitandwonder @gosherlocked @tjlcisthenewsexy @ebaeschnbliah @may-shepard  (let me know if you want or dont want to be tagged in these)

[murasaki-murasame]

Danganronpa V3 Liveblog Part 9 [Chapter 3 - Daily Life]

This time on DRV3, things get ~spooky~. Right in time for Halloween, funnily enough! Well, nearly.

Thoughts under the cut.

Well this chapter sure is weird. I wasn’t expecting such a big focus on occult stuff and religious stuff, but I guess it’s a natural turn of events. At least, the whole deal with Angie basically absorbing half of the remaining cast into her religion and then using her influence to impose strict order over everyone. I probably should have seen that coming. I’ve been creeped out for a while now, and this is the natural end result of her attitude. I really like it as a plot point. It’s kinda sad that since she died here it only really lasted for a single chapter, but still.

The heavy focus on her being more or less a cult leader who everyone outside of her group, and even at least one person in her group, wanted to take down one way or another made it fairly obvious after a while that she’d be the victim this time around. I was expecting at least one other member of her group to be dead as well, though. Mostly because the chapter three cases from the last two games both had two victims each. I guess it’s nice that they broke that pattern. I was really afraid that Tenko would get killed off, especially with how she’s gotten a good amount of focus and development recently. But she’s still alive, which I’m happy for.

And let’s be real here, it was obvious that Angie’s lab would be the crime scene as soon as the game pointed out that it has two doors with different locks on them, and that Angie likes to keep the door locked from inside while she works. That was just screaming ‘this is set-up for a locked room mystery’.

This chapter’s motive was the really bizarre thing, though. I did not see that one coming at all. The chapter title was worrying enough, but then we got to the stuff about resurrecting a dead person to bring them back into the game. That’s . . . something. I was confused for a while about how the process worked, since it was a motive for murder. Like, I guessed that maybe the ritual involved a sacrifice, but the game never really explained the actual mechanics of the ritual until near the end of this part, and it sounds like there’s no murder involved. So I guess it’s a ‘motive’ more in the sense that it’d sow disorder in the group and lead to murder that way. I think. I’m assuming that the ritual won’t work, obviously.

Seeing low-def 3D models of the dead characters was so goddamn weird and creepy. And now they’re ritualistically being hung upside down around a corpse. Yay.

Though before that, I should mention before I forget, there were also more weird hints at the overall story early in the chapter. As I kinda said last time, this chapter starts off with some sort of news story about a deadly metero shower. I’m not sure what to make of it. Was that the unprecedented crisis that Kirumi mentioned? I’m skeptical. But then again I’m kinda skeptical about every single hint at the overall story in this game because everything seems so fishy.

On that note, we also got the return of the funeral hinted at with the start of chapter two. So it seems like everyone was able to remember what seemed to be their own collective funeral. Not sure what to make of that. I can’t help but stick to my ‘this is literally purgatory’ theory, but I think that’s just what the game wants you to think. So then what’s the deal? Are the main characters in this game, like, clones or impostors or something? I have no idea. In general I can’t even begin to guess what this is leading to. I feel like the game’s just throwing out these absurdly weighty but vague ideas and making me think about these absurd ideas for where this might be going.

Like, we even had what seems to be the return of the New World Program machine from DR2, which was . . . weird as fuck. No idea what the deal with that is. And on the note of references to past games, we even had the return of the gold foil sword from DR1. That was probably closer to just being a reference though.

Oh, and on the topic of some of the more random things that happened, I still can’t work out what’s going on with the message on the tile in the garden. That’s still a mystery to me. And I don’t even know where to begin with that scene of Miu and Keebo in Miu’s lab. That sure was . . . something. I guess the game felt that it had been holding back too much on the fanservice-y CGs, lol. I wonder what the chances are that it might somehow be a pivotal scene to solving the case.

I’m also completely baffled by what’s going on with Monokuma just . . . shutting down, and Monodam taking over. The Monokubs confused me in general ever since they first showed up, but now I’m even more unsure what the heck the game is planning with them.

I did another small session of gambling and decided to get the skill that automatically reveals the first letter in the Hangman’s Gambit, and the skill that stops the reticle from moving, though I’m gonna have to wait to equip the latter one since it apparently takes up a lot of slots. I also must have forgotten to equip one of the Argument Armament skills last time since it was there for me to add to my list. I also managed to have enough friendship fragments by the end of this part to get the skill that automatically silences loud voices in Mass Panic Debates. I dunno if I’ll get the one about focusing on specific conversations.

Somehow I managed to get events in with Keebo, Maki, and Kokichi. I wanted to talk to Kaito, but in the later events he didn’t want to talk to me since he was sick. I don’t really have much to say about Keebo, other than that I’m still a bit baffled by how he’s basically just a comic relief character at this point. I mean, he looked so . . . badass and protagonist-y on the first promo poster we got. He’s even the single character shown on NIS America’s limited edition box set of the game. It’s weird. Anyway, moving on, I’m really liking Maki, but I think I’ll talk more about her in a minute. Kokichi is . . . slowly growing on me, honestly. The fact that he’s apparently a huge goddamn nerd who wanted to play Yu-Gi-Oh with Shuichi was pretty great. It’s still hard to get a read on him, though. He’s the sort of character who’s so two-faced that it’s hard to bother even trying to figure him out. But I still think there’s something worth discovering about him, so I’m prioritizing him a bit in free time events.

I almost forgot, but I wanna talk about the Shuichi-Kaito-Maki trio, and how much I love them right now. They’re so wonderful. I still have a huge soft spot for the Shuichi-Kaito dynamic. Especially after the part where Shuichi talked about how Kaito more or less completes him by balancing him out and making him feel happy and carefree in a way that he normally can’t. It’s just really heart-warming. But I also like that Kaito immediately stuck up for Maki and, like with Shuichi, forced her to get out of her shell. Shuichi and Maki really do both need someone reckless and impulsive like Kaito around to push them forward when they’d otherwise falter. Seeing Maki get bought into the training sessions was really nice. I like that she’s slowly warming up to them in her own way, and is actually taking Kaito’s words to heart.

I really like what this chapter’s been doing for Maki’s overall character development and depth. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her at first, but I really like her as a character now. The idea of her being an assassin who’s been forced to basically abandon her humanity and her personal relationships time and time again, but who also wants to live a better life and overcome the way she was raised, is really compelling to me. I also just really like her attitude, especially now that she’s not being secretive about stuff, and we know why she is the way she is. Her habit of saying ‘You wanna die?’ whenever Shuichi questions her about something is amazing and I love it. I’m also pretty glad I did her first free time event. Though, come to think of it, I’m pretty sure it was the part where she talked about the cult that had trained her, so . . . were you just unable to have free time events with her before this point? I guess that’d make sense, given her attitude before this chapter.

As for Kaito . . . I love this purple space boy with all my heart and soul, but god dammit I’m gonna get stuck in another loop of being suspicious of him. Argh. I’m just so suspicious of how he suddenly got all weird and sick a day or two before the murder, and how he spent a lot of time holed up in his room at night and thus feels like a prime suspect for the current case. It’s at least giving me horrible flashbacks to chapter three of DR2, with the despair disease or whatever they called it. Even though I know it’d be handled differently, it’d be lame if we got a repeat of the overall idea of an illness being related to the culprit deciding to murder someone. Especially with how aggressively telegraphed it was that something’s weird with him and he’s spending a lot of time alone. It almost feels like the chapter’s setting him up as being one of the immediate suspects, which I’d be glad for if it means he didn’t do it.

I think I’m at a bit of a loss as to who the other prime suspects would be, though. But that’ll presumably change once I get done with the rest of the chapter tomorrow. I just feel like there’s a lot of info I don’t have. I couldn’t even easily guess what the murder method was, based on the clip we got of her body. Probably because she kinda just showed up for a split second at the end of it. It looked like some kind of wound near her neck area. I think.

The main mystery here is obviously that it was a locked room scenario where the room was locked from the inside, but somehow the culprit got in and out while keeping the room locked from the inside after they left. Even though the last chapter literally had a character trying to tell everyone that they can use magic, this is shaping up to be way more Umineko-esque, especially with the creepy occult ritual going on. It honestly almost feels like a reference to Umineko, but locked room mysteries are a basic enough idea that it’s probably a coincidence.

I’m not entirely sure what my preliminary guess about the locked room trick is. This is a very different situation to something like Umineko, so I can’t really apply the same logic here. I guess my immediate thought would be that I’d like to check if the other door into the room is definitively locked from the inside. Just to be safe.

I also thought that Monodam stole the key away, so I’m not entirely sure how anyone locked the doors from the inside to begin with. If we at least assume that there’s only one valid key in play, and no, like, master keys floating about.

I easily lose track of the flow of time in this game, so it’s hard to remember, but I think the whole scene where Shuichi, Maki, and Tenko tried to convince Angie to stop the ritual happened after midnight, the night before they then walked in during the morning and found Angie’s dead body. So I think that’s the night that this case is revolving around. Which is part of why I’m suspecting Kaito, since I’m pretty sure that was one of the nights where he was holed up in his room, and Shuichi and Maki were doing training alone. I at least know that Kaito wasn’t with them during that whole scene, so . . . yeah.

I know that the clues mostly come during the investigation, but it really doesn’t feel like I have many clues at all to go by for this one at the moment. It at least feels like it’d be really hard to pin down anyone’s alibis since I don’t think we know about anyone having been running around during the night after the confrontation happened. I think Miu might have been working in the computer lab at that time, though, so since that’s kinda linked up to the same part of the building I guess she might play a part in verifying alibis and stuff. That’s about all I can think of, really. The only other person I can think of who might have been breaking curfew after the confrontation would have been, well, Kokichi, who I think they actually ran into shortly before the confrontation. I think everyone else was probably just in their dorms. Himiko got involved in the confrontation too, I guess, but I kinda doubt she killed Angie.

And, of course, a main issue is that aside from Kokichi knowing how to pick locks, I don’t know if anyone would have any unique ability to mess with the locks on Angie’s room. So in terms of each character’s individual ability to pull this crime off in the first place, everyone seems on almost even standing.

It’s probably pointless to predict things too much, but I guess my main three suspects would be Kaito, Tenko, and Kokichi, with Himiko and Miu at a more distant fourth and fifth place. I feel like I can trust Maki on this one, so the only other character who I have even the slightest evidence to suspect is probably Kiyo, purely because he’s gotten a fair bit of screen-time in this chapter.

I have a feeling Tenko didn’t do it, at least because I doubt she would have literally talked about wishing that Angie could die and attempting to basically arrange an assassination on her if she was going to end up killing her directly. But still, she obviously has the strongest motive to kill Angie, other than Maki I guess. And I’d really like to see where she as a character, and her dynamic with Himiko, will go in the long run now that Angie’s dead.

And on the note of motive, I would imagine that everyone on Angie’s side other than Tenko has no motive to kill her and are thus probably all innocent, while everyone on Shuichi’s side has a pretty clear motive to kill her. Which is why I’m only really suspecting people on his side, for the most part. 

Also on a metagame-y note, I definitely feel more inclined to suspect a male culprit this time, after two female culprits. Which limits my options even more, though I’m not 100% sure on it.

I certainly hope this chapter plans to throw a curveball at me, and isn’t just blatantly signalling Kaito as the killer. But, I mean, that’s exactly what I said during chapter two, and look where that mind-set got me, lol.