#I dont draw it here or mention it in Blue and Violet but I like to think that they still have some wounds from the battle with Wukong
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askblueandviolet · 10 months ago
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What was your first position when you started working in the mayor's office? not as mayor but as a recent graduate
If your blood does not move through your veins like that of a human, how do your wounds heal? Magic?
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princessmacedon · 2 months ago
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{ happy anniversary!
Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is. Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing! Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together. Template courtesy of Neffi! 💕
Name: Red, more commonly nicknamed Reddo
Pronouns: they/them preferred, she/he OK!
Birthday (no year): December 28th
Where are you from? What is your time zone? moved to kentucky when I was young, and for sake of ease i use EST (TOAST)! i live near a timezone line, so i get to be flexible like that >vo)v HAHA
How long is your roleplay experience? with a few on and off breaks, roughly 15 years? i forgot about a period of my life where i 'moderated' (read: was the most active user on) a warrior cats RP site; my first foray into rp proper was in pokemon rp on tumblr, my first muse was lyra but i didnt have an internet name until i picked up and settled into writing (you'll never guess who)
How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? kind of half answered this above oops, but with warrior cats i genuinely dont remember? i probably just googled warrior cats and wound up there HAHA. for pokemon...... honestly probably the same thing
How were you introduced to TOA? key had mentioned it to me in passing a few times, so i knew she was there, but it wasn't until my friend zyra mentioned it to me and suggested we write macedon siblings together again that i actually joined, hahaha
Do you have any pets? i do! i adopted a ?? year old dog from the shelter about six years ago, so now he's x+6 years old :] pretty sure he's some kind of border collie mix, but not certain! his name is tobin, but he'll answer as long as you say 'ob'. he's a sillyhead
What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) it used to be winter because i love the snow! but as i get older and more harrowed by weather conditions, i appreciate how normal and not-trying-to-kill-me autum is HAHA
What is your IRL occupation? (finger guns) figuring it out
Some interests and things you like/enjoy? drawing was my first love! i like reading, especially comics, and writing; i like video games and immersing myself in stories, and have passing interests in things that i don't commit to trying out (like resin, charms, etc etc)
What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? FFXIV, mainly; genshin impact and hsr; various farming-ish sims (story of seasons + old harvest moon, stardew valley, rune factory, currently fields of mistria); to a lesser extent dragon age, ace attorney, various VNs / otome / rhythm games, pokemon until roughly scarlet/violet era and then my wallet couldnt keep up with it HSDFSGVSD
Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: as a kid it waffled between fire / dark, but not sure i have a dead set favorite type anymore. favorite pokemon still lucario and appletun for sure though!
Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! (Optional bonus challenge: if you filled this out last year, try not to repeat what you said back then!) - i love christmas and thinking about gift giving! when i was in school my christmas spreadsheet hit like, 50 names HAHA nooooo way do i have that energy anymore, though - i'm reasonably fond of baking and also reasonably terrible at it! something always goes wrong but usually (usually) stuff comes out pretty tasty in the end. except for that time i set my oven on fire
How did you get into Fire Emblem? my friends were talking about how much fun they were having with the new game at the time, awakening! it looked fun so i decided to try it out
What Fire Emblem games have you played? - Beaten: Genealogy, Blazing Blade (FE7 if youre like me and still cant remember which one is which), Shadow Dragon & New Mystery, Awakening, Fates (Conquest + Birthright), Three Houses (Blue Lions) - Started: Binding Blade (FE6), Sacred Stones, Path of Radiance (FE9), Fates (Revelation), Shadows of Valentia, Three Houses (Black Eagles & Golden Deer), Engage
First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: Awakening -- still Awakening! possibly tied with 3H, though. i really enjoy games where i can peacefully level grind
List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! vaguely ordered, it's: Wolf, Maria, Cordelia, Seliph, Katarina...? if you think you're seeing a trend you're probably right, hahaha ^^ writing a character is an expression of love for me, so inevitably my muses climb higher and higher on my list over time
Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! the clearest one i can remember is wolf, because when i was playing fe11 i was passively using him because he was pretty, and then he got 7 crits in a row and i was like :pika:
Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳i'm weak toward green haired women AHSJASFDSF but actual game crushes, hmm... not sure!
If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: chrom -> still chrom! - Fates: takumi -> hmm... silas or flora? - Three Houses: dimitri -> still dimitri, except now he's duking it out with yuri - Engage: i have the ring in my pocket as we speak, suffering from the burden of choice... probably diamant though?
Favorite Fire Emblem class? whatever class my blorbos thrive in
If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? in all likelihood i'm a villager with just absolutely baffling AI. not entirely stupid, but you cant in good conscience say it's smart either HAHA as a playable unit though, i might be a recruit-type? i could do well if you help me grow, otherwise i'm just this scruffy shitty thing tucked into your pocket. middling-high skill growth, paper defense, and you wish you knew what my speed growth was because i don't (probably fast as a mage but realistically NOT as anything physical)
If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? (Black Eagles, Blue Lions, Golden Deer, Church of Seiros, Those Who Slither in the Dark, unaffiliated civilian, other - for example Almyran) my heart says blue lions, but if i'm just some guy (unaffiliated civilian) i won't be surprised
If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? - Boons: Reason - Banes: Authority, Gauntlets - Budding Talent: Flying
If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? (Firene, the Kingdom of Abundance; Brodia, the Kingdom of Might; Elusia, the Kingdom of Knowledge; Solm, the Queendom of Freedom; Lythos, the holy land of the Divine Dragon; Gradlon, the desolate land of the Fell Dragon) hmm... probably either Firene or Lythos! i'm too much of a weenie to be from brodia HAHA
How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔(separate letters, to-ah, other?) toah, like noah! to all my xiv gamers out there this definitely applies to job shorthands too. durg. dirk. whum blum sidge. rurpur and rogg...
Current TOA muses: Maria & Katarina
Past TOA muses? Cordelia my beloved
Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Maria! unless something unprecedented happens, i don't see that changing. writing her, her want and determination to love and find wonder in the world, to spread and be joy -- it just puts me in a good place! it's really, genuinely helped me a lot, even if her extroversion is exhausting to my introvert ass sometimes HAHA
Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) uhhh... i definitely tend toward characters who are in some regard defined by a form of love or strong emotion, romantic though it need not be -- people who have some sort of powerful, aching tenderness in their heart. i've not really done as much as i've wanted in terms of bringing that out of them, but it's definitely something that draws me in to a character in the first place!
Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? ooh, there are lots of characters i like who have a brusque edge or manner, who might be harsh or cold... i wish i could do that! i'd like to try, i think. and also the funny, energetic, boisterous types -- i love to see them and be around them, but i definitely can't pull it off hahaha
What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) it's been a while since i've gone all in on this kind of scene, but i love emotional scenes and heart-to-hearts -- the sort of thing where you're communicating your feelings with everything you have and trying to reach someone else! i usually rein myself in well shy of that though, hahaha. i worry a lot about getting too lost in the sauce and derailing a conversation/thread, or making it all about what my muse/what they want to communicate.
Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? for katarina, i'd love for her to make some friends! she's her own worst enemy in this regard, separating herself from friends/friendships whether consciously or subconsciously. for maria... well, i'd love for her to have a real heart to heart with someone!
Favorite TOA-related memories? to this day i miss and adore annie's frederick! his dynamic with my cordelia at the time was so much fun to write and to talk about and we had such thoughts for how their relationship would evolve -- it's one of the most interesting and endearing relationships i've had the pleasure of writing! on a sillier note, i often think about leif hauling ass after kanoesa's lewyn HAHA
Present or past tense? it used to be past tense, but i think toa's successfully converted me to defaulting to present hahaha ^^;; consciously at least, i try to match whatever my partner does!
Normal size text, small text, no preference? it doesn't matter to me, but i do hate fighting tumblr to keep all of the small text small.
Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 the wolf app/blog i've been refining on and off for the better part of three years is no secret HAHA, but i've seriously contemplated writing a few other characters! radd and boucheron, to name a couple. i get super attached to my characters though, so it's a bit tricky
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hope-remnant · 4 years ago
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The Practice Run Killing Game
Content Warnings: guns, violence, murder, manipulation, ableism, blood, weapons, bullying mention, and Dangan Ronpa, which is probably it’s own warning. This is literally 85% murder. 6.5K words.
My talentswap AU now has its own fanfic! for a full list of my talentswapped characters click [here]
Hifumi never thought school life could be so great. He grinned to himself in his dorm, pushing off the floor with socked feet to spin his desk chair back and forth. The pale blue light of his computer’s screen reflected on his glasses, which he pushed up with one finger and a smirk before typing out a last message to his friend’s stream chat.
JusticeHammer: I’ll be back in a few hours!! Have fun Hina!! <3
In his headphones the stream audio played, ambient underwater sounds from the game itself and the excited voice of his friend, the Ultimate Gamer.
“Bye Justice! You other mods better be on your best behavior now that the boss man is gone, okay?” Hina grinned up at the webcam from her side of the screen, waving with one tanned hand before returning to her game, talking about the strange atmosphere of an alien world. 
The chat scrolled by as well, people from all over the world typing out goodbyes to him. Thousands of strangers, but dozens of friends as well, fellow moderators who helped wrangle the random people into order, who would play video games with Hifumi, who would message him and call him.
It was a far cry from where Hifumi had been in middle school, and he couldn’t help but grin again, shaking out his hands as if to shake out an excitement that clung to his bones, that stayed in his heart when he remembered he had friends. 
His phone dinged with a soft chime, and he couldn’t help the quiet huff of amusement as he flipped open his phone and typed quickly.
Sakura: Where are you going Hifumi? Do you need assistance? 
Hifumi: school council meeting! a weird late night one, no emergencies, dont worry sakura!
Hifumi: see you tomorrow, love you!!!!! :) 
Hifumi stashed the phone in the pocket of his blazer- he was unsure what to wear to this sudden late night meeting, when before they had all been just after classes let out. He decided to play it safe and wear his school uniform.
Standing up from his chair, he made sure to plug in his laptop, the stream still running on it, and turned to leave his room. He had seen the interior of the main course’s dorms, they were triple the size, with their own ensuite and everything. 
His own dorm was small, the wall space barely enough to fit his multitude of posters. There was a complimentary cork board as well, full of fanart people had made of his little sona, a kirby with a hammer and glasses, which he printed out and posted up on his wall as big as he could get them.
He pulled once on the lapels of his blazer, making the fabric settle properly on his shoulders and snatched his binder of notes he used in student council meetings. He made sure to lock his dorm on the way out, still smiling softly to himself. He toyed with the small ring of keys in his hand, dorm room key swinging as well as a number of soft cute keychains that Hina or Sakura sent him in their years as online friends.
He entered the cold night air, pocketing his keys and rubbing his hands together. Winter had clung harder than he had ever seen it, or Spring was simply apathetic even in April, biding its time. In the dusky light he could see the timid, barely blooming sakura trees that dotted the expansive main campus of Hope’s Peak Academy as he approached. There was no security on duty, the gates locked at the late hour.
Headmaster Kirigiri had given him a pass once he sent an anxious email talking about how the head of security, Sakakura, had been harassing him whenever he tried to go on campus. Even though reserve course students were barred from entering the main campus, Hifumi had privileges as the liaison between the reserve and main courses, and as a member of the student council.
Hina and Sakura had theorized it was because Sakakura was the Ex-Ultimate Student Council Leader, and was now one of the club’s supporting staff members, even if he had only worked at the school for a few years. The man was resentful of having a reserve course student on the council, a first in the school’s history, even though the reserve course was a relatively recent development.
Hifumi was used to people disliking him for seemingly no reason, it was only a problem that he took to the headmaster when it made him late to council meetings. 
He glanced at his phone as he passed through the side gate intended for just security. He would likely be a minute or two late, but it wouldn’t make him stand out any more than usual. In his black and white suit he was a dark stain in the middle of any crowd of bright ultimates, who were able to wear anything pertaining to their talent and flaunt the rules.
Sakura wearing scrubs some days, Hina wearing garish merchandise for a game and smirking as the Ultimate Hall Monitor from class 77B could do nothing about it. They had told Hifumi about some of their classmates testing the rules, Enoshima in a sporty tank top, the Ultimate Team Manager getting away with it even in December. Fukawa, who didn’t even notice the rules apparently, and wore oil stained jumpsuits to class, no one able to deter the Ultimate Engineer and Ultimate Mechanic.
Yet here he was, in an ill-tailored suit. When he had been accepted into the reserve program and sent a uniform, his older sister had insisted he try it on, and cooed over him looking all grown up, as if she weren’t just a year older than him. She utilized some of her cosplay skills to try and modify the suit to fit him- they seemed to be made for exclusively skinny kids, then just sized up without concerns for body shape. Unfortunately Fujiko typically worked with skirts and dresses, which were more forgiving of hands more used to drawing and the bad eyesight all Yamadas seemed to have. 
Hifumi had to stop for a moment, the breeze rustling past as he stared up at the few stars that began to twinkle in the night sky, faded and choked by light pollution, blurry even with his glasses. Some were simply blocked by the giant building before him, gleaming glass reflecting the lights of the city’s nightlife, aside from one classroom on the second floor, lit up bright white with silhouettes moving across the room.
He held the binder full of notes to his chest and walked into Hope’s Peak Academy, unaware that someone in the school’s entrance hall was hiding in the shadows, watching with eyes of deep scarlet that reflected light like a cat’s would in the low light. 
Hifumi hurried up the stairs and down the hallway to the classroom they held meetings in. He saw Kamii and Kurosaki, two ultimates on the council who were dating, walk into the meeting room, Kamii practically clinging to her boyfriend. It was unsettling to see as he approached, considering Kamii thought PDA was impolite during meetings, and usually sat with someone between her and Kurosaki to avoid it. Maybe she was upset by something, but Hifumi wasn’t about to ask her, considering he was acquaintances at best with the council.
He followed them into the room, the last to arrive. The fluorescent lights were glaring and bright as night settled fully outside of their meeting. Everyone was seated aside from their Ultimate Student Council President, Umesawa, who stood at the podium in front of the blackboard, knuckles white as her blunt nails dug into the wood, her white armband standing out against the bright yellow of her hoodie.
After Hifumi sat down, leaving his notes on the desk, he noticed just how unhappy everyone seemed. Some were fidgeting, others talking but not saying much at all, their tone hurried and frightened, and others sat there and stared at the polished wood of their desk as if the world was ending around them.
“Now that we’re all here- you have some explaining to do Umesawa.” Ikuta, a girl with a famously short temper among the upperclassmen ultimates, had her hands on her desk as she stood slightly, her red hair swaying and catching the eyes of anyone who hadn’t been startled by her shout. 
“Yeah, Aiko, your emails were really panicked.” Kashiki smiled softly at her friend, but she seemed to be trembling.
Umesawa tugged on one of the bright yellow ears sitting atop the hood of her sweatshirt, pulling down the hood and raising her head to look up at the council. Her eyes seemed to draw people in, one blue and one green, both full of an earnestness that made her a good Ultimate School Council President. Now, though, they were rimmed with red, and usually perfect wavy bob was a bird’s nest, brown strands out of place in any way they could be. 
“I called you all here because it was best to be as discreet as possible.” Umesawa said.
Ichino snorted, not even bothering to hide his disrespect, too busy carding his hand through his already messy red hair. “Discreet. Yeah.” 
Just when Hifumi was going to ask them all to explain, because these ultimates always acted as if everyone just knows what’s going on instead of learning things like normal people- the door creaked open and someone Hifumi had never seen before stepped inside. 
The first thing Hifumi noticed were the gloves. One a perfect, unstained white, carrying a large duffle bag. The other a black that blended into her sleeve. The rest of her outfit was just as puzzling, a bright red tie and a white button up, but with a black cropped leather jacket over it. A black miniskirt and red knee high boots as well completed the outfit. But even then, it was almost at odds with pale violet eyes and long lavender hair, only a small portion of that hair in a braid that she toyed with in her black gloved hand.
“Good evening class.” She said, her voice even and her eyes narrowed. 
Umesawa backed away from the podium, staring at the girl. “Who are y-?”
The girl waved off the question, her black gloved hand slashing through the air, making the council president back away further. “Goodness, and they say you’re one of the brightest in the school?” She takes a step closer, heeled boots heavy on the floor. “Pathetic.” She says, a light scolding, a chiming thing that seemed more like a schoolyard taunt than a threat.
But Hifumi could tell this girl was a threat. Maybe she had a dangerous ultimate talent- he knew for a fact that even if an ultimate skill was illegal they could be admitted and given essentially some form of diplomatic immunity while they attended the school. 
“Why the hell are you here lady?!” Ikuta snapped, standing fully with her hands on her hips. 
The girl put both her hands in the air, as if surrendering, but she was smiling, amusement sparkling in those eyes that seemed to dig into anything she laid them on, ferreting out as much information as she could. “I just want to play a game with my fellow ultimates.” She said, placating and condescending. 
Hifumi, who was tired, confused, and could be watching his friend play video games right now, finally spoke up. “Can any of you ultimates ever explain anything, or is being cryptic part of the main course syllabus?” 
The girl turned to him and glared, and Hifumi couldn’t help the small squeak of fear that slipped from his mouth when her face twisted into a sneer. It was a dramatic expression, he had seen it in games and shows, but no one had ever looked at him like that, no matter how many bullies he had faced. Like he was less than nothing, his very existence something to be loathed.
“A. Game. That shouldn’t be so hard for a simple reserve course student to understand, right? After all, you don’t spend your time doing anything worthwhile, if you can’t even manage to get into the main course.” The girl’s voice dripped with malice, and she quickly took over at the podium.
Umesawa backed up even more, now close to the window opposite of the door to the classroom, hands tugging her hood back up so she could pull at the fake rabbit ears in nervousness.
“I will keep it simple.” The girl shot Hifumi another look. “Last man standing wins. Go.”
“That doesn’t make any fucking sense.” Ikuta stepped out into the aisle between desks, pointing a finger at the girl as she demanded answers. “Just who the fuck do you think you are, demanding shit from us? Are you some reserve course kid? We’ve had enough from Yamada-”
Everyone’s eyes had been on Kotomi Ikuta, they hadn’t noticed the threatening girl at the front moving at all, assuming she had been just as stunned by the rant, until Ikuta was cut off by a gunshot.
Hifumi had heard guns before, in games, in animes, in movies. There were different patterns to them depending on the type, and when he and Hina became really invested in a game he would bother to tell them apart, the distinct rapid pulses, the blasts and thunderous booms from all different kinds of weaponry. He had never heard one in real life, had never been in the same room as a real gun, even though he knew there was a shooting range up on the fifth floor for those whose talents needed such things.
It was louder than he expected, and the noise was what made him freeze. In the middle of the classroom, Ikuta fell to her knees, then slumped forward. Shrill screams and rumbling expletives filled the room.
It took a moment, to properly process all of the information and connect the dots. When he did Hifumi couldn’t stop the sharp gasp, even though all it did was make him notice the sharp sulfuric stench of gunpowder, as well as the metallic tang of fresh blood. Things he had never experienced before.
An ultimate had died right before his eyes, by something as simple as the handgun that rested like it was molded to be in the strange threatening girl’s black gloved hand. The girl’s eyes were alight with something Hifumi couldn’t understand as she huffed through her nose in what might have been amusement.
She dropped the duffle bag in her other hand, the thing spilling open to reveal an assortment of weapons from knives to swords, hammers and screwdrivers, guns of all shapes and sizes. They were real, the flash of silvery metal, the dull gleam of tools with a new use branded onto them right before their eyes. 
“If that’s not enough for you, I’ve got more.” The girl smirked, and waved to the still open door. A cart came rolling in, it’s top shelf littered with larger weapons. A chainsaw, a mace, a sledgehammer, all on top of it, all perfectly clean as if even they didn’t know what a dark omen they were, as if they didn’t know their capacity to do harm in the right hands. 
At the bottom of the cart there was a large case which the girl pulled onto the floor with ease after sliding her handgun into a previously unseen holster high up on her thigh. She kicked the case with her boot, walking around it and towards the door. “That holds all the motivation you’ll need.” 
“Everyone stay calm!” Umesawa ordered, straightening up from where she had been cowering. “No one touch those weapons- someone could get hurt!” Her voice was as sweet as ever, even with the urgency, she took out her phone and flipped it open, only for her face to fall. 
Yokō stood up from his place at the back of the room, turning his flip phone around as if to show it off. “No connection.”
Kubo stood up, gesturing broadly to the class. “She can’t stop all of us, just listen to Umesawa!” 
But everyone seemed to be getting up, fourteen students all in one room, some paralyzed by fear, others covering their fear with anger. Hifumi stayed seated, staring, unable to process it all at once, afraid. 
A student who had been at Ikuta’s side the instant she fell, trying to help her even after a gunshot wound to the forehead, lunged forward and grabbed one of the spilled weapons at random. He ran towards the terrifying girl who had orchestrated Ikuta’s death. The boy, Someya, was holding a shotgun that was almost too big for him to handle. The little plushies on keychains at his belt jingled slightly, at odds with the cold metal in his hands. Before he could aim, someone grabbed at him. 
Ichino tried to grapple the weapon away from Someya, but the small boy clung to the instrument of death with a desperation no one in the room had seen before now in a human being. Someya was frantic, eyes glassy with tears, his distinctive blue bowlcut in disarray as he shook his head, saying how she needed to pay for killing Ikuta. 
In the chaos Hifumi finally stood, moving to the wall the door was on, his back hitting the wall quickly as he tried to look around. Umesawa still was at the podium, pleading for order. Gōryoku was shielding some of the others who had broken down into tears with his large muscular body, and some other students had approached the front of the classroom.
Someya was facing the door, facing the girl who had her gun in one hand but was toying with her braid as well, as if bored. She hummed an uneven tune, as if bored, as if waiting for a show to start. 
“Please!” Someya cried, tears falling as the shotgun was wrenched out of his hands, the gun making a sharp cracking sound as it hit the floor.
Then the katana entered his chest from behind, skewering him. As the weapon was pulled out with a wet sucking sound Hifumi wished he could never have heard, the girl holding the weapon sobbed. “My mother- they have my mother- I’m so s-sorry, I can’t-!”
With a sob that devolved into a scream, Kisaragi kicked away the file of photographs she had taken from the case, the motive set out for them. It showed a middle aged woman bound to a chair, screaming into a gag. 
“Karen! Please, listen-!” Umesawa implored, a hand outstretched. “Put down the-!” She let out a small scream when Kirasagi lurched forward, slashing the katana.
The sword embedded itself into the podium. Most of the class either hung back or scattered to grab the motives, and then the weapons. 
Hifumi could only focus on one thing at a time, the sounds. The wet thunk of metal sinking into flesh, into the soft organs of the human body, so fragile even if the person had been deemed ultimate. Gunshots, sobbing, deranged laughter, screams and death rattles.
Hifumi staggered under the onslaught of sensory information overloading his mind with no way to filter it, no way to stop it. All he could do was try to get away.
Blood splattered onto his blazer, up his neck and onto his face as another student died. With a short, faltering yell, he pushed someone out of the way of the door and began to run. 
The moonlight streaming into the hallways washed them in a pale ghostly glow, as if illuminating perfection, as if a spotlight was needed. Hifumi didn’t know it, but he looked similar to when he spoke to his friends in late night chats, his lights off in his room and illuminated only by the pale glow of a computer screen, tired and giggling. 
Pink marred the walls and floors. In the classroom Hifumi abandoned, a boy he had spoken to, someone in a committee with him, was brutally beaten to death with a chair. A girl he knew was stabbed. Another was strangled. The events tumbled together into one big massacre, one big game, one big show, and the girl who pulled the strings to watch this all happen couldn’t help the grin on her usually passive face as she left the scene into her own lair.
Someone stood at her side now, shorter than her, but even more intimidating. A person in a pristine suit and long black hair, almost ridiculous in its length. Their red eyes seemed to gleam as they watched, but their pointed features never twitched from an expressionless mask of disinterest.
“Satisfied, Izuru?” Kirigiri asked once she reached her control room, one of her lackeys nodding to her reverentially and giving her the seat. Another approached her other side, giggling.
“...” Izuru’s eyes slid to the side, towards where the lackey who had been in the chair now cowered, too horrified to watch what he assisted in causing, pathetic. The girl laughing into her hand was small, and with Izuru’s keen sight and ultimate knowledge, Izuru knew that the girl was thirteen at best, too young, yet still an ultimate. She was enthralled by the gore on screen, delighted by it, just as much as she was enthralled by Kirigiri, who put a hand on the young girl’s shoulder, speaking words but never telling her anything.
With a small huff through their nose, Izuru turned and left to see the scene for himself. 
Hifumi didn’t know when someone had got him with a blade. They evidently had, from the wound on his arm pouring blood, pink staining his nice uniform, running through his fingers even when he tried his best to stop the bleeding.
He continued to stumble on, mind overloaded with information, with fear, and he couldn’t help but just blank out on all of it. There was too much to process, too much to bear acknowledging. With a ragged huff, he leaned against a wall of lockers, the cool metal a relief from everything, another nothingness to sink into. 
The wall of windows allowed in so much moonlight, for a moment Hifumi thought it was day, that any moment so many of the best students in the country would come pouring out of their classrooms. Maybe his friends would be among them, Hina tapping on her phone or the newest handheld console, Sakura making sure they didn’t bump into anyone. 
They would see him, and Sakura would hold him. She was so strong, so steady. She could carry Hifumi to the infirmary, could bandage him up and offer him a lollipop with that slight smile she got when she talked to him or Hina. She would fret over him any time she saw him until the bandage was finally gone, she would insist on carrying his bag or his notes for student council-
Hifumi swallowed down a sob, pushing himself onward. Screams echoed down hallways made to carry the voices of the best, the last cries of those who were dead the moment that girl walked into their meeting. It hurt, to keep moving, to keep acting as if just running away would save him, but everything would hurt no matter what choice he made. 
All he wanted was to hang out in Hina’s dorm, his best friends at his side as they all rested on Hina’s bright pink bed, Sakura studying late into the night as he and Hina fell asleep against her.
He wanted so much, and he was never going to get it, not now. Hifumi knew he was going to die here, he just knew it. Was this something other people felt, like a blanket of fresh snow, cold and melting deep into his bones as he realized death was coming for him, an unstoppable force? Was this something that had always been there waiting for him, and he only noticed it now when his head swam and pink dripped from his fingers?
In every game, every anime, every manga, the hero managed to get up and keep going. Whether to escape only to save the day later, or to defeat whatever stood in their way. No one expected that of Hifumi. Maybe they would think an ultimate was capable of it, and there were thirteen ultimates he had left behind to tear each other apart. 
He heard a high pitched, screaming cackle and the revving of a chainsaw, the cut off screams of a victim, far enough away that he wasn’t in danger. 
Hifumi wouldn’t find any heroes here. All he could do was try his best.
The ones who cared for him, his friends, that’s all they had ever asked of him. To try his best, to keep going, to rely on them if he needed to. Hifumi needed them more than ever, Hina’s endless energy and excitement, Sakura’s quiet strength and support. Hina would be in her dorm, headphones on as she kept talking and talking, playing video games for thousands to see. Sakura was studying a new medical journal, sitting on Hina’s bed, out of view of the webcam. 
They were so close but so far, and they were all he could think of. Would they send worried texts when he never messaged them goodnight? Would they wait until tomorrow morning, thinking he had been tired from the meeting? Would they use the extra key to his dorm he gave them, and find his room as he left it, as if nothing was amiss? Would he become another muttered rumor, like the supposed death of a girl in the computer lab of the reserve course?
Would anyone aside from Hina and Sakura notice him gone from campus? He was invisible to the other reserve course students. Maybe they would wonder why there was an extra desk in their classroom, and dismiss it just as quickly as a mistake, never remembering him. 
Tears welled up in his eyes. It was all too much, the noises, the things he had seen. Hifumi had never seen someone die before. He had never seen someone kill before. He had never seen carnage, or gore, or death. He wanted nothing more than to calm his racing thoughts, but they all piled up and screamed until he reached nothing, slumped against some lockers. His left hand was in his mouth, and he bit down harshly on the joint of his thumb, his right hand clutching where he had been injured. 
He screamed silently, throat hurting, tears finally spilling. He was so tired and scared and lost and he just wanted- he didn’t know what he wanted, he didn’t know what to do, it all was piling up, it was washing over him, a tsunami of panic and blood, bright pink and towering over him, until it finally fell and consumed him without even noticing. 
Hifumi continued to dig his teeth into his hand, it was something solid, letting him know that he was here. He brought his knees up to his chest, his legs squishing into his stomach. He let go of his wound, his right hand coming up to pull at his short curly hair as he keened. The wet sticky feeling of blood on his hand, in his hair, was so bad but the grounding pull of pain in his scalp was something that kept him from trying to slam his head into the wall or something equally damaging, because he needed anything to stop his mind from screaming, to stop himself from screaming. He began to rock back and forth, crying. 
He didn’t know how much time had passed. The moon watched on, impassive in its pale glow. Was time really passing, or had the world ended the moment that girl shot Ikuta? Was the planet still spinning? Would the moon ever set?
“Get up Yamada.” 
Chills swept down Hifumi’s spine, he swore someone was talking, but all he could hear were distant gunshots and screams.
“Yamada! Get up!” A polished shoe kicked him in the shin, and Hifumi finally looked up.
Murasame stood before him, leaning on a pitchfork. The dark grey tines were splattered with blood already, dripping down onto the floor. Hifumi stared at the blood, mind numb, lungs and throat pained by the sobs that had wracked his body. 
“I can’t kill a guy who’s crying like a baby. Are you a man or not, Yamada? I know you’re just a stupid reserve course, but c’mon. Get up, die with a little bit of dignity.” Murasame rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. He bent down to look at Hifumi like he was nothing more than a bug on the ground, disgusting. His brown hair shifted to cover his face as he leaned, before snorting wryly and standing up straight again, rolling his eyes.
Hifumi choked on another sob, trying to just breathe. He used both of his hands to brace against the lockers behind him, trying to stand. He didn’t know why he bothered, but it was something to do. Maybe Murasame was joking? Maybe he would help Hifumi?
The moment Hifumi was steady on his feet Murasame backed up, swinging his pitchfork up, an arc of pink that glowed in the moonlight following it.
Hifumi ran again. He turned a corner down the hall, still between a wall of lockers and windows, still in a cold empty husk of a school, and he didn’t stop. 
He bumped into something- someone, and stumbled back, looking at them. A short person with long black hair and pointed features, deep red eyes that stared at him with nothing behind them. “Sorry!” He shrieked, the habit converging against his fear as he quickly stepped around the person and kept running. 
Izuru raised an eyebrow and deftly hid between the lockers as another ultimate passed, this one full of bloodlust, hunting the boy who ran into them. It was different, interesting, but Izuru kept moving. They had more to see than this.
Every breath seared from Hifumi’s lungs, his body ached as he did his best to keep moving. But he didn’t even make it all the way down the hallway. Hacking into his bloodied hands, he ended up falling against one of the massive windows that made up the outside wall of the school. His injured arm burned with pain against the cold glass.
Hifumi whimpered, turning to keep his back to the glass as he heard sprinting footsteps slow and reach him.
“Everyone hated you, Yamada.” Murasame huffed, both hands holding the pitchfork as if it was a staff.
“What?” Hifumi wheezed out, more confused than frightened.
“You waltz in, a useless reserve course, and start telling us what to do. We had a betting pool going on whether you were just that oblivious that you didn’t notice how annoying you were, or if you really were just that annoying.” Murasame sneered.
“Wh-What?!” 
Murasame let go of his pitchfork with one of his hands to point at Hifumi accusingly, the tines of the weapon scraping against the floor loudly, making Hifumi flinch away. 
“That. Is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re so annoying and don’t even fucking know, do you? Handing out orders, trying to get us to help a bunch of teenagers who convinced their parents to blow their money just to attend Hope’s Peak- it’s a wonder no one offed you before now.” Murasame swung the pitchfork back up, both hands on the weapon as he pointed it at Hifumi.
“No- please-!” Hifumi begged, trying to dive out of the way. 
The sound of cracking glass echoed around the hall as Murasame chuckled. “Really?” 
Hifumi wanted to back away, wanted to run again, but fear paralyzed him.
Murasame just shook his head, pulling back his pitchfork and causing the window to fully shatter. “Get up Yamada. I’m not killing you while you cower. Unlike you, I’m better than that.” 
Hifumi made another noise, a whimpered plea even he couldn’t understand, and stood up. He trembled and breathed in the cold night air that rushed through the broken window. 
Murasame wacked Hifumi in the head with the side of the pitchfork, toying with him.
Hifumi stumbled to the side, now fully in front of the empty window frame, shards of glass still clinging to the sides. Part of him wondered if he should say something cool. Last words were supposed to be cool, right? That was for heroes, and he had always wanted to be one. He had always wanted too much.
Murasame bared his teeth and stabbed forward, the tines of his pitchfork sinking into Hifumi’s abdomen. For a moment all Hifumi could feel was the force of it, like a gut punch, something he hadn’t been a stranger to back in his middle school days. But sharp pain quickly followed, spreading, and he staggered back, the heel of his shoe hitting open air. He grabbed at the long handle of the pitchfork reflexively, unable to do anything about it.
Murasame lunged forward, trying to grab the handle of his weapon, but he missed. The revving of a chainsaw grew steadily closer, as well the unhinged laughter of an ultimate pushed to the edge. Hifumi’s killer didn’t bother watching him fall, instead running in search of a new weapon.
Hifumi gasped raggedly as he tipped out of the window, the world swinging away until all he saw was the sky. The black of night was endless, the faded stars twinkled, the moon still shined. They wouldn’t change with one boy’s death. They wouldn’t care.
As he fell, all he regretted was not giving Hina and Sakura a better goodbye. He felt the slight scrape of leaves and then his body slammed into the ground, rendering him unconscious. 
He wouldn’t wake for days. When the school’s security would find him during their sweep of the grounds, it would be an hour after they already found the unresponsive, unconscious body of Aiko Umesawa, her yellow rabbit hoodie stained pink. She would be taken to a nearby hospital, and she would be silenced before she had a chance to wake.
Hifumi was found later, a pitchfork still stuck in his stomach, and that was for the best, as it staved off the worst of the bleeding as it stayed in the wound. He had sustained a head injury and a cut to his arm, but it was better than the twelve dead students littering the second floor of Hope’s Peak Academy. A dozen bright, beautiful students all dead, their lives destroyed before they could truly live.
The school board of Hope’s Peak knew another factor to the puzzling killing game. Their pet project, Izuru Kamakura, was missing. The Ultimate Hope, the Ultimate Ultimate, was gone and most of the staff who attended to the project were dead or had been enjoying a day off in the peace of their own home, unknowing that their colleagues were being slaughtered like animals. 
It had to have been Izuru Kamakura that unleashed this bloodshed. The project ensured that the Ultimate Hope had every talent and skill ever recorded, the school board knew how easily their little project could kill, could hide bodies. They assumed it was a vengeful sign to the board, thinking themselves worth the carnage. The school board thought too highly of themselves. They underestimated just how easy it was to bring an ultimate to  a breaking point.
An entire life that culminated in a title, and ultimate, until that was all they were known for. They had to constantly one-up themselves, to constantly prove to others, and to themself, that they were the best. Years of effort, years of blood, sweat, and tears. Everything relied on their ultimate. Their world revolved around it, until they became the embodiment of their ultimate, until their ultimate became them. 
When tasked with murder, with letting go of any inhibition and just committing violence, just causing harm, something any human being was capable of, they took to the task with an almost inhuman speed. Some would need a push, but even then, their calculating mind would whir and they would frame everything to their advantage. They would come out on top, they had to. They were an ultimate after all.
But the school board only saw the brightest of their students, children. The blame was placed on Izuru Kamakura, and they quickly moved to cover up any signs of the incident. 
Hifumi Yamada would have been placed in the same hospital as his student council president, and would have been silenced just the same, two birds with one stone, but that didn’t happen. The Ultimate Nurse Sakura Oogami demanded the school fly her best friend to her clan’s clinic. She would take care of any medical need, or else she and her girlfriend, the Ultimate Gamer, would drop out of Hope’s Peak permanently, and Asahina would use her global fame to ensure that the reputation of their former school was dragged through the mud.
The school board didn’t care much if the reserve course student died, but it was best if the kid died out of their responsibility, so they used the school’s helicopter to fly Hifumi, Sakura, and Hina all to the Oogami clan’s isolated compound. 
Days passed where Sakura tended to her best friend’s wounds, and he awoke. His shifting had roused Hina, who had been sleeping at his bedside, and she ran to get Sakura.
Hifumi couldn’t help but cry in Sakura’s arms, crying himself to sleep within minutes of waking, but this sleep was far more restful. He knew he was safe. He knew he would be cared for. He knew he’d never have to go through something so bad like that ever again.
Two weeks would pass from this incident, and Hifumi would find himself locked in Hope’s Peak Academy, working with the 78th class to bolt over any window and make sure they could never, ever escape. He would agree to lock himself into the building where the worst thing to ever happen to him occurred. He agreed because Hina and Sakura would be at his side. He agreed because he knew they would be safe, together. 
Hifumi’s memories of the School Council Killing Game were unclear. He would wake from nightmares gasping for air, never fully remembering the faces of his fellow students who died, only remembering the indifferent moonlight and the gleam of deranged eyes. 
When Hifumi would ask Kyoko Kirigiri if they had ever met before, the Ultimate Lucky Student would smile awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders and saying that he must be thinking of someone else, and he would believe her, unknowing of the deep, undying loathing she carried in her heart towards him. Unknowing that she had sworn to kill him with her own hands one day. 
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elichatter · 5 years ago
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SOLLUX: ready, priince?
you pause.
ERIDAN: wwait a second
the fist clenched around your wand relaxes as you draw it back against your chest, suddenly feeling very silly.
ERIDAN: i remember this ERIDAN: already fuckin done this havvent we sol
the mustardblood's shoulders settle back into their slouch. you see the corner of his mouth twitch.
SOLLUX: 2ure have, ED. SOLLUX: you remember how many tiime2?
it's all a little hazy, but as you settle on the floor to sit beside him, walkstubs tucked beneath you, you wrack your thinkpan for a solid number.
ERIDAN: fuck ERIDAN: sol thinkin in these bubbles is the wworst ERIDAN: always wworried that some fuckin stupid shit might pop into existence and shock the bloody fuck out a me ERIDAN: this is our fourth fuckin time isnt it
sollux really smiles this time. you can almost see him sorting the numbers into pairs in his thinkpan. you roll your eyes, turning away in the same instant.
SOLLUX: yep.
you sit in silence for a while. it's gone like this every time but the first - you catch yourself just as he's powering up, electric flickering between his palms and fangs. feferi vanishes, and suddenly you have nothing to fight about anymore, so you sit. the second time, you talked a little, but he woke up, and you were to embarrassed to bring it up again the third.
it's easier to remember in the quiet, anyway.
you're picking at your claws again, pulling the sharpened edge from each side until it shucks right off like a clam shell. your fingers are sore and rubbed a raw kind of violet, but it doesn't matter much - you know they'll be fine once you find another dream bubble to haunt.
ERIDAN: still can't believve i didnt kill you ERIDAN: wwhat a shitty wwizard i am
sollux cackles, and the sound is distorted by his misshapen mouth. he makes no effort to hide the shake in his shoulders from you - in fact, he jostles you a little as he uncrosses his walkstubs and sticks them out in front of him, red and blue shoes knocking casually together. you're closer to him than you remembered. you make a great show of picking up the edges of your cape and wrapping yourself in it.
SOLLUX: the 2hiittiie2t.
ERIDAN: all that bullshit about hope and magic ERIDAN: surprised you didn't wwreck my shit on lobaf ERIDAN: though it wwouldnt fuckin stop you from havvin to talk to me here wwould it
SOLLUX: ED, thii2 ii2 gettiing kiind of feeliing2 jam liike. SOLLUX: lmao iif you want two move two the piile then
ERIDAN: i wwill literally kill you awwake if you finish that bloody sentence you nooksucker
sollux reaches over and slaps you in the face with the hem of your scarf. you scoff, indignant and surprised, and he laughs again, an ugly, dry sound.
he doesn't let go. instead, he pushes his claws through the loose wool, poking holes in between the purple and blue squares.
SOLLUX: yeah no that piile ii2 offiiciially overu2ed.
ERIDAN: fuckin disgustin i don't knoww howw you an fef evven considered usin it
he shrugs. like everything else about him, it seems lazy and crooked.
SOLLUX: gue22 we needed iit. what an a22hole ii wa2.
at least you're in agreement.
ERIDAN: my thoughts ec fuckin xactly
you've got nothing else to say, after that.
well, yes you do, but you're not going to be the one to say it. and give him the satisfaction? you'd rather be cut in half again. vertically.
SOLLUX: are you goiing two come back? SOLLUX: ju2t 2o ii know how much 2tupiid two prepare for.
ERIDAN: wwhy ERIDAN: are you goin
SOLLUX: yeah.
ERIDAN: oh
he stands, shoves his hands in his pockets and looks out across the floor. the edges of the room have blurred already as your dream bubble comes into contact with another - your next stop, it seems, now that sollux is readying himself to wake up.
ERIDAN: ill probably be back at some fuckin point ERIDAN: keep gettin this fuckin dream bubble anyway dont i ERIDAN: got no fuckin choice in the matter
SOLLUX: ok. SOLLUX: well. 2ee ya.
he takes a step, then tenses as if stunned. he thinks, for a minute, and, then, you note with a hint of irritation, two
ERIDAN: wwhat
SOLLUX: 2ay, ED. you want two joiin an army?
is this some kind of joke?
ERIDAN: wwhat the fuck are you talkin about sol ERIDAN: i don't knoww if you remember but last time i wwas trusted wwith anythin i killed two a our friends
you're a little more angry than you need to be, actually. it just seems kind of cruel - to mention something you made no secret about aspiring towards when you know for a fact it would ruin you.
ERIDAN: oh and almost betrayed all a you ERIDAN: havve two say sol that wwasnt your brightest idea
hold on. did you just-? sollux is smirking. you did. fuck.
SOLLUX: you thiink ii wwouldnt keep an eye on you?
that bastard. that mutantblooded bulgepan.
ERIDAN: dont need anyone to keep an eye on me ERIDAN: i am PERFECTLY FUCKIN CAPABLE a handlin myself ERIDAN: BUT since you CLEARLY need someone to guide your stupid nook through the complexities a war ERIDAN: ill come with you ERIDAN: cmon then ERIDAN: lets go
you stand, too, brushing off your pants and chancing a glance his way. he's still smirking, but it's different, somehow. you're not going to think about it.
SOLLUX: 2ure thiing. let2 go.
you walk in time, towards the merging of the bubbles. the look he gives you is more of a question and the nod you return is an answer. when you step forward, you're both looking forwards, his claws still buried in your scarf.
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