#I get a tag now yippeeee!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[sovaharbor]

but anyways yeah kisses to dragon age origins you are the OG. your combat sucks so hard but by god do you put the roleplay in roleplaying game. surana now lives in my head rent free and i can't believe i started playing dragon age in 2015 and somehow did not attach to surana until now. im insane for that

[eievuimultimuse]

“It’s all your fault and nothing will ever change that.”(for Baxter)

MORE QUESTIONS / COMMENTS TO SENT ANONYMOUSLY.

     “ I’M WELL AWARE. “ The scientist’s response is curt, toeing the line of seeming annoyed by the bluntness of the statement and sounding deeply, genuinely regretful.

     To say that this isn’t the first time that Baxter has thought this to himself would be the understatement of the century. For YEARS, he has told himself — every SINGLE day — that only he could shoulder the blame for his circumstances. He hadn’t been strong nor brave enough to ward off that AWFUL MAN. He failed to protect his own children from him— by god, he hurt his son. Irreparably WOUNDED him, SCARRING him for life. And yet all he could do was GROVEL and BEG and just HOPE that he could find it in him to forgive his eldest child for his transgression. That wasn’t even counting for all of the times he tried to urge him not to go so hard on them — THEY WEREN’T MADE FOR THE WORK THAT HE PUT THEM THROUGH.

     Now, here he was, separated from them. Not knowing if they were okay  ( or— god forbid, ALIVE ). He questioned constantly what they thought of his absence, and greatly feared how they would get on. Did they know he was doing his damnedest to get back to them ?  If anything at all happens to them while he’s gone, IT’LL BE HIS FAULT.

     “ I don’t need the reminder, “ he concludes, his calm response vastly juxtaposing the amount of ANXIETY in his heart.

[keeps-ache]

was up til 4 writing last night woohooooo :3

[secondhand-sonder]

Saph stormed outside. Her chest hurt with emotion and she hated herself for how much she felt like crying. When she thought about the things that Jade had said to her the tears finally spilled over and she angrily wiped them away as she walked, refusing to break into sobs of hurt. Saph wouldn't let herself cry over this. She didn't deserve the catharsis anyway. It wasn't like Jade was saying anything new. Saph had said exactly the same things to herself a million times, but for some reason they cut deeper when someone else said them. When someone you loved said them.

Saph's fists clenched against the winter cold. The city sidewalk was completely empty at night. There was snow piled up by the edge of it. The evening was just barely warm enough for there to be small, stagnant puddles of water pooling on the sidewalk, and it would no doubt get colder. Saph was glad that she hadn't taken off her jacket earlier, otherwise she'd be walking through the cold without it right now. She heard the motel door open and close, then footsteps behind her, loud and running. It couldn't have been anyone except Clem. The footsteps slowed to a walk just behind Saph and matched her pace.

"Saph-" Clem started, but Saph pivoted on one foot to look at him.

"Fuck off!" she snapped. They both took a few steps backwards. "Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it."

"Where-"

"Go back inside," Saph commanded. She turned around and kept walking.

"Where are you going?" Clem asked angrily, watching Saph get further away instead of pursuing.

Saph didn't answer.

"Well-" Clem's voice raised to a shout, either out of frustration or simply because Saph had gotten so far away. "Do you at least plan on coming back sometime?"

Saph stopped. She slowly turned around, not all the way, but enough to look back at Clem. Uncertainty was written across her face. Then with renewed resolve, she began walking away again.

Clem stood in shock for a moment. "Are you really going to leave us like this?" he asked in disbelief. His mouth suddenly twisted with rage. "Just like you left Plus?"

Saph turned around, walking quickly towards Clem. "How dar-" she started, but her voice cracked with emotion. She swallowed and tried again. "How..." Saph stopped, lips pursed tightly together.

Clem stood in front of her, waiting for an answer.

"Just go back," Saph said softly.

"Not without you," Clem said.

Saph's expression softened. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then she shook her head and walked away again.

Her head was bowed, but when she accidentally met her own gaze in a puddle, Saph looked up, trying to keep her eyes ahead of her while her mind was mired down in the past.

***

A little earlier that day, just after sundown, Plus wandered a city several miles away, shivering. His mind was in a fog and his body hurt. He had spent the last three days in a hell of his own creation and, to his own surprise, he found that he didn't regret it. Of course, he feared the pain, he hated the suffering, and he had loathed the feeling of being something subhuman. He knew that it would weigh heavy on his shoulders for the rest of his life. The reason he didn't regret it was that because he stayed behind to guard their escape, Jade, Saph, and Clem had made it to safety.

So he could die in peace. Plus had accepted it. He knew he was going to be dead by morning. It was far too cold for someone in his state to survive. He had no idea where the other three had gone and he had nowhere else to go. He was glad that he had at least escaped that damned facility before he died. He was happy to have died anywhere but there.

He was wandering because he was looking for someplace convenient to die. Someplace out of the wind, and preferably dry. He found an alley that suited his purposes and sat down, leaning against a cold brick wall and an even colder metal dumpster. He wished that he could fall asleep. He wished that he actually wanted to die.

***

And in the present again, Saph sat on the public bus seat, her head in her hands. Her chest was hurting again. When she turned away from Clem that last time, she thought he had finally turned back. It seemed that what he had really done was wait until she couldn't hear his footsteps, then followed her all the way to the bus station. It seemed like a painfully Clem thing to do.

His look of utter defeat as the bus door closed behind her was going to haunt Saph for a very, very long time.

She had allowed herself to cry a little bit, quietly enough to not be noticed by the few other people on the bus.

She didn't know why she had chosen the bus to Mendevele. It seemed almost fitting. They had escaped from it, and now that she was leaving Clem and Jade behind she was going back.

Saph was still conflicted about that. She didn't want to leave them, but she couldn't live with them after she had killed Plus. Because he was almost certainly dead. It had been three days since they left him behind now. Her chest hurt, and for the first time she was able to correctly register the emotion as grief.

She wanted to go back. She wanted everything to be okay, she wanted to see her friends again, and most of all she wanted the quiet understanding that Plus offered. But that understanding was the problem, wasn't it? It had been why Plus had made her promise to leave him behind long ago, when they were still on Old Earth. Leave him behind and save Jade and Clem while he bought them time. In that quiet understanding Plus knew that Saph was the only one cruel enough to go through with it. She despised herself for it.

Saph felt the bus stop. After wiping her face of tears she sat up, looking out of the window. Gray light was dawning. She wasn't sure how long the bus ride had been. It had been about four o'clock when she had left the motel.

She stood up and got off of the bus quietly. She didn't know what she was doing in Mendevele. She didn't know why she came here. She felt like she had some purpose, but she had no idea what it was.

Closure, Saph realized. Going back to Mendevele would give her some sort of closure for Plus' death, like visiting his grave. She would visit Plus and then, she decided, she would take the bus until she was so far away from everything that not even the past would find her. She held no hopes that her life after this would be anything but heartache and homelessness. Hell, she might not even survive this winter. She might even get recaptured and brought back into the Mendevele research facility to live the rest of her short life in a cell as a glorified science experiment. But she couldn't spend another second trying to be a friend to Jade and Clem. Not after she had killed their friend. Her friend.

She walked into the city as it slowly came to life. Lights came on in windows. People began to drift into a nearby coffee shop. Soon, Saph was no longer the only person outside walking. Being surrounded by people made Saph feel even more alone. She looked down.

She missed Plus.

Saph blinked, her eyes focusing on footprints leading into an alley. For some reason, it was sheltered, meaning that the pavement was dry. It seemed that someone had left wet footprints on the dry pavement, which had frozen overnight. Now that the sun was just starting to shine its light on the city, the prints were disappearing.

She refused to let herself hope, but she thought she recognized the shape of the cloth shoe given to prisoners at the research facility.

She missed Plus, but fortunately it hadn't been by much.

Walking down the alley, Saph tried not to hope. She wasn't even sure if it was Plus. If it was, she didn't even know if he was alive. But she had to look.

Saph's heart stopped as she recognized the shape curled in the corner, unmoving.

[jishyucks]

⋆.˚ Twinkle, Twinkle ˚.⋆ — lmk (Teaser)

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣  genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

‣ current wc: 5.6k (so far), about 65% done, predicted 10k

‣ summary: The world is sick and tired of your and Mark’s inability to understand feelings. With a friendship that has lasted longer than you can count on your fingers and friends who can tell you’re both utterly in love with each other, the universe decides to make use of its different light forms to tip you both over the edge of friendship.

‣ warnings (so far): some cliches?, like one kms joke, mentions of alcohol, mentions of vomiting (cause of alcohol)

‣ an: this idea has been rotting in my drafts since like February and i finally got the motivation to write it yippeeee,,, tag list maybe? just ask!

Without light, it’d be awfully difficult to see (duh)

Mark’s bed was the 2nd most comfiest bed in the world, a close runner-up to your parents’.

His mother truly chose the perfect pillow for you to use, paired with a blanket that complimented it well. They both smelled like fresh laundry, an aroma you were familiar with because your best friend smelled exactly like this.

The clock on Mark’s nightstand reads 12:23 AM, moonlight pushing past his closed shutters to emit a bit of its light into his room. Its light does poorly, giving the glow-in-the-dark stars on Mark’s ceiling a chance to emerge through the darkness.

Your mind’s filled with thoughts of the conclusion of the movie you both had just watched—Tangled—and your younger self could not help but think…

“Mark?” you called out into the darkness, “Mark, are you awake?”

There’s shuffling in the space next to you and then you hear Mark hum, “I’m awake. Why?”

You hesitate to ask the question that’s been keeping your brain occupied ever since the credits started rolling. But knowing Mark, he wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Do you…”

You can barely see Mark’s head lift up to look at you in the darkness, bedhead creating a jagged outline.

“Do you think I’ll ever fall in love and get married like Rapunzel did in the movie?”

Your mind replays the clips of Rapunzel and Eugene underneath the lanterns, lights creating a scene you’ll never forget for the rest of your life.

Mark hums again, something that he did when he was deep in thought. Your question wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s overheard a lot of the other girls in his class talking about crushes they’ve had on other classmates or squealing over that one idol he couldn’t remember the name of. The only difference now was that these thoughts were coming out of you.

“Do you think you won’t?” Was Mark’s reply.

At the time, you really didn’t know what you were saying, barely having the knowledge to understand the deeper meaning of it all.

Love and marriage? You weren’t aware that you had skipped practically everything before that.

“I think so.”

Mark doesn’t reply for a long while, long enough to convince you that he had fallen asleep the second you answered his question. But when you feel the bed dip, you can make out that he is now sitting up and reaching for his lamp.

Click!

You let out a quiet hiss, squeezing your eyes shut because you’re suddenly blinded.

Mark snorts, “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

There’s movement on his end again, the blankets softly rustling. You’re not sure what Mark was trying to do, but once you finally open your eyes, the first thing you see in the lowly-lit room are his eyes shining back at you, mouth opened slightly because he was going to say something. He’s propped up on his elbows, crushing the barrier pillow between you both.

“Why’d you have to turn the light on?” You scoot yourself up to face your best friend.

Mark shrugs as chews on his bottom lip in search of words, “I just feel like it’ll mean more if you could see me saying it.”

“Saying what?”

“You’ll find your happily ever after,” Mark says seriously. You can tell just by the way he looked at you that he was serious. Not even a hint of kidding looming behind his pupils. You forget that Mark was such an optimist.

Your brows furrow, unsure whether or not you should take this boy seriously. “And how are you so sure about that?”

Mark’s eyes reflect the light coming from his lamp and he grins. It’s almost creepy the way he does, like he has something hidden up his sleeve.

“I just am.”

[xn4vyl1c1ousx]

Guess who’s back, back again. Shady’s back, tell a friend.

Cw: uhhh kinda self insert (still using y/n but putting my personality onto them) cause i’m coming back (YIPPEEEE), not much tbh

Wc: 441..

now playing… Without Me - Eminem

back to navi…

“Kacchan watch out!” Izuku yelled as he used Black Whip to grab onto a falling boulder that was headed straight to Katsuki, throwing it into the nearby trees to not let it fall on him.

“Woah! Nice catch Deku!” Kirishima shouted from the other side of the plane.

They stood in the middle of a forest, surrounded by trees. yet the spot they stood in, held no trees. it was only surrounded by them.

“fuck where’s that damn crazy extra when we need them.” Katsuki grumbled as he set his explosions off, making him fly into the sky.

He looked around, trying to see if he could find anyone or anywhere to go to. Yet there was nothing but trees. You couldn’t see through them due to how thick and close together they were.

“Tch.” The blond ticked as he landed on the ground with a scowl on his face.

“Did you see anything up there?” Eijiro asked as he jogged over to Katsuki’s side.

“Nothing hit trees. Where’s Y/n when we need them, can’t believe that damn idiot went on hiatus right before this mission. They knew we would need them.” Katsuki grumbled as he adjusted his gauntlets on his wrists.

“I know they had a good reason, i just wish they told us.” Izuku said as he looked around at the trees around them.

A sudden crack was heard. The three boys looked around ready to fight whatever villain or wannabe villain was about to pop out from behind the thick shield of trees.

Soft humming flowed through the air, sounding familiar yet different.

Suddenly a figure emerged from the thick shield of trees, dragging behind them 3 villains with their quirk.

“You damn bastard! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming here?!” Katsuki growled as he turned to face Y/n, who just so happened to be the one dragging the villains.

“I knew you dumbasses wouldn’t be able yo find these three, sooo i came back from my hiatus just to help you three, you’re welcome.” They giggled as they secured the three unconscious men to a tree and went over to the three hero’s.

“Did y’all miss me? i bed you did!” They smiled brightly at the men, Izuku smiling brightly, Eijiro looking pumped and Katsuki.. Katsuki wanted to kill you, but held back and settled for a scowl.

“Your lucky that quirk of yours has a shit ton of uses. Next time tell us when you’re going to do something crazy like this.” Bakugo crossed his arms, a small sense of pride in his chest as he saw you giggle at his words.

A/N: HELLO EVERYONE, i’ve been gone for soooo long omg i can’t believe i haven’t posted or interacted with ANYONE for so long. then i got bored and started writing this and got the idea to surprise rue ( @rueclfer ) with it cause im coming back baby!! My uploads will be VERY inconsistent cause college has been eating my ass and i hate it. i’ve had very weird interactions that i will DEFINITELY use to write stories, i may (MAY) some kind of promptober thing for halloween but i will most likely not so don’t get your hopes up. Anyway, i hope you guys are happy for me to be back, i will be interacting again and hopefully be involved with the MHA community more! anyway that’s all, toodles luvs

GENERAL TAG LIST (tag list for ALL my works!)

@sunolls

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 19

(blowing a lil party horn and firing confetti poppers) YIPPEEEE

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

sorry to the ishimondo fans

this is the one with an execution!!!

@digitaldollsworld my bestie my lord my homie <333

Content warning tags: descriptions of injury and mild gore, character death, canon-typical violence, guns

< previous - from start - next >

“NO!”

Owada’s shout is loud enough to startle Byakuya out of the slight torpor he had fallen into, too busy trying to fend off the migraine that was threatening to make him sick. He jerks, eyes blinking open to see Owada leaning in Ishimaru’s direction, his entire frame tense and trembling with restraint.

“It’s okay, Taka, you don’t have to say it,” He’s babbling, talking in a rush. His complexion is blanched, with fear or desperation, maybe both. “It’s okay, okay? I’ll tell them. It’s fine.”

“You really should let him-” Kirigiri starts to say, but Owada shakes his head vigorously, his hair bounces side-to-side.

“No, I’m not gonna make him cover for me any longer. I’m not gonna make him- make him lie for me.” He cuts Kirigiri off, before drawing himself up tall. “I did it. Okay? I killed him. I killed Chihiro.”

“Mondo-” Makoto starts to say, but Owada barrels through him like a steam train. His voice has the same, strained quality of a whisper, but it feels shockingly loud at the same time, the only thing audible in the entire room.

“It was - I know I was calm. Earlier. When Chihiro told me everything. And - I really was supportive. I was happy for him, so happy for him, you saw me Makoto, that was all real. But-” He pauses to take a sharp breath, and Byakuya wonders if he looks as insane as he sounds, leaning over the edge of the railing, like a seasick man over the edge of a rocking ship. Spewing words like he’s trying to empty his stomach of them. “I was thinking about it after, and I just. I just got so fucking mad, I mean - we all have secrets, and mine is - I know it’s probably not the worst one here, but it’s something I’ve been holding on to for so long, and he was just. Flaunting it around? Like it was something to be proud of?” He snorts a laugh, ugly and demeaning. “If it was that easy, then what the hell have I been doing all this time?”

His voice breaks, and for a moment his shoulders slump. But he regains his composure just as quickly, drawing himself back up with a shuddering breath. “I.. on the way back to the trophy room, I couldn’t stop feeling angry. It was like I couldn’t see anything else but red, I wasn’t paying attention to anything else. And when I got back I saw - I saw Taka, injured, and Chihiro standing over him -” He swallows. “It’s not an excuse. I know Chihiro would’ve never hurt him, never hurt anyone - but I was so angry and he was there, and there was a trophy on the floor, with blood on the corner, so I just…”

No one says a word. The implication of what he had done hangs over them all, like a fog - like a body, Byakuya thinks. Fukawa hadn’t been able to pin Chihiro as high up as Syo, but it feels like the boy was watching over them. A ghost listening silently from the rafters.

“...Then, tell us. If you did kill Chihiro, how did you do it?” Kirigiri asks at last, and Owada makes a sound crossed between a sob and a groan.

“I - I just sort of blanked out, when it happened. When I came to, he was there, and - I didn’t know what to do.” He lifts his face, and Byakuya can make out the shine of tears, the gray pallor of his skin. “So I took Taka to the nurse’s room first. And bandaged him up. And then I grabbed supplies to clean up the scene - that’s where I got a sheet to wrap Chihiro up in, and the gauze pads to soak up the blood.” He’s slowed down now. The words come tiredly, laboriously. “And then I…I was just thinking about cleaning up the room at first. That was all I could do, so I just did it. I wasn’t thinking about my survival or anything, or the fact that I might end up getting killed by this fucking bear - I just. I was planning on confessing to it all, but I didn’t want the place where he died to be so…so messed up.”

“Oh, Mondo…” Hagakure breathes quietly, grievingly. Owada’s head twitches, but he presses on.

“I went to check up on Taka, and when I came back, the body - Chihiro - he was gone. Sheet and all.” He laughs again, another twisted sound. “I thought, maybe it was all a dream? Maybe I was going crazy and Chihiro wasn’t dead, and all that blood was from Taka’s injury? I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t want to think. But I went back to what I was doing, and then a little later, the announcement went off. And you all know what happened after that.”

The room is silent for a long moment. No one says a word, and Byakuya can only just make out the sound of breathing, the only indication of life. And, a slight, quiet rattling; Ishimaru was trembling slightly, but still not uttering a sound.

In the silence, all Byakuya can feel is a storming, pitch-dark rage; rage for Chihiro, killed over something so pointless and without warning, rage at Fukawa for framing him, and rage at Owada for hiding it all. For losing control of himself in the first place. “So afterwards, Fukawa went downstairs and found the body. If we consider the sheet around Chihiro’s corpse and the scene cleaned of blood, that also helps explain how she was able to hold off Syo for so long.” He says, disgustedly. “But, the bloodied gauze in the library. I’m assuming that you were the one who put it there? Whatever happened to confessing?”

“I was! …I was, planning to confess to all of it. But then I saw Chihiro’s body, and - and as everyone was talking about Syo, I saw you holding the file and the blood, and I thought… I thought I had a chance. I mean, you were right there, and…I knew that Makoto wouldn’t have been able to back you up. I stuffed the gauze through the gap between the library door hinges while everyone was investigating.” Owada looks up for the first time, and Byakuya can’t see what look he’s wearing. And he feels glad for that; he doesn’t want to see whatever simpering face Owada has, pleading for forgiveness, miserable and sullen. “I know it was wrong, but all the pieces just seemed to fit together so perfectly, and the more time that went on, the more believable it seemed, and- I’m sorry. I really am.”

And Byakuya wants to scream.

What use is your worthless apology, he wants to rage. It wouldn’t resolve anything - in the end, he had still been accused, and humiliated, and now utterly disgraced. He was still blind and disabled. Chihiro was still dead. “All this, because you couldn’t decide if you wanted to live or die? Did you never consider if you deserved to?” He hisses, and Owada actually flinches back.

“I know I don’t. I’m sorry.” He repeats quietly, and he sounds so hollow and drained that Byakuya finds it hard to maintain his anger, all the heat and passion dissipating in an instant like smoke. It leaves him feeling empty, bewildered, and so, so tired.

“...Well. It seems that it’s time to vote, no?” Celeste claps her hands lightly, a smile in her voice. “Monokuma, won’t you please?”

“Since you asked so politely…I was still enjoying this dee-light-ful soap drama, but for my precious student, I will oblige!” Monokuma bounces up to its feet, one arm raised high in preparation to call the vote. “Everyone-”

“Wait.” Kirigiri interrupts. She hasn’t looked away from Owada once, her pale face turned towards him this entire time like a hawk. “Something’s not right.”

“Wha- what do you mean?” Hagakure asks. “It’s pretty cut and clear by now, right?”

“It’s suspicious. Why put in so much effort trying to pin the crime on Byakuya, and then confess so suddenly now?” Kirigiri rebuts. “And we still haven’t heard Taka’s testimony.”

“Man…come on, Kiri. Just look at him. I don’t think he’s in any shape to talk.” Hagakure shakes his head. “And - I think we shouldn’t push this on any longer than it needs to be.”

“Our lives are on the line. I don’t want to move on until we’re entirely sure.”

“He’s already confessed, though…isn’t this enough?” Yamada lets out a long-suffering sigh. “And, I can’t see any indication of anyone else who might’ve done it.”

“No, but Kyoko has a point,” Asahina interjects. “We almost got tricked once already into thinking it was Byakuya, right? We should be careful.”

“Yes. We should err on the side of caution,” Ogami agrees. “I can’t see the harm in having Taka speak, and…I cannot trust Mondo’s confession entirely. No matter how logical it seems.”

“He can’t,” Owada cuts in, that desperate tinge on his voice again. “I keep telling you guys- can’t you just leave him alone? Please?” He hangs his head low. “I know - I’ve done bad by you guys, I’m not exactly the easiest to get along with, but please, just…he’s been through a lot. Can’t you cut him a break?”

“Erm…Can you kids make up your mind?” Monokuma is still standing, balanced precariously on the tips of its toes with one arm still straining upwards. “My stitches are ‘bout to pop, you know!!”

During this whole time, Makoto was silent. Thinking again, Byakuya recognized, as he usually does with his chin tucked under a curled finger, his foot tapping a quiet rhythm against the floor.

“Okay, then. Taka doesn’t have to talk.” He says slowly. “But in that case - Taka, can you please take off your bandage? So we can see the wound?”

“The wound-?” Owada sputters, taken aback by the sudden request. “Wha- Makoto, what are you…?”

“Something about the whole story has been bothering me. Mondo, I know that you, uh…sometimes, you react kinda strongly, I guess, to stuff that makes you mad, but you’re also really caring. I find it hard to believe that you’d twist up on Chihiro like that so fast.” Makoto drops his hand to a fist at his side, clenched tight. “If the trophy really did hit Taka as bad as you said - where he got hit by the edge of it - then the wound should also be really bad, right?” He turns back to Ishimaru. “Taka, please. You don’t need to say anything, but- please, just show us.”

“No way, he doesn’t need to-” But Owada stops suddenly, slack-jawed as he stares.

Watching as Ishimaru slowly unwinds the stained, white strips wrapped around his head with shaky hands.

—

“As I thought,” Kyoko says, as the last bandage falls away. “There’s nothing there to constitute that amount of blood on that bandage, is there?”

And it’s true. The pile of linen that now litter the floor around Taka’s feet is stained and spotted through with blood, but there’s no sign of an injury anywhere on his head. There’s not even a bump, or a bruise.

Makoto swallows thickly, before he continues. “Taka, you never hit your head at all, did you?” And Taka flinches, face somehow blanching paler. “You’re the one that killed Chihiro.”

“No, he didn’t, it was me-!” Mondo throws out an arm in Taka’s direction, as if trying to shield him from the accusations. “I keep telling you - I was the one who did it, I killed Chihiro-”

“No you didn’t. You were covering for him.” This was the worst. Mondo - he was violent at the worst of times, but ultimately kind, and extremely loyal - and right now, Makoto was going to kill his best friend.

“Are you stupid or something? Makoto, hey-” There’s a strange grin twitching on the corner of Mondo’s mouth, like this was some joke he could laugh off. “I’m telling you - how many times do I have to tell you? It was me.”

“It wasn’t-”

“It was!”

It goes on like this for a while. Everyone else is silent - or, it feels like they’re silent. Makoto can’t really hear them, not over the rush in his own head, or Mondo’s desperate, hysteric words, denying the accusation, insulting Makoto and everyone else, cursing, pleading, screaming. It’s the same as when Leon was condemned, when all he could do at the end of it was wail, ‘stupid, stupid, stupid!’ until Makoto pointed out the toolkit, the undeniable proof that it had to be him. Or, when it was Byakuya-

And he stumbles a bit, his rebuttal stuttering as he falters. He remembers the look on Byakuya’s face as he asked about his handbook, with the knowledge that he couldn’t bring it out himself. Not without revealing it to Monokuma. And therefore forcing him to admit it by his own words, the one thing he wanted to conceal from everyone else in the room. The betrayal, the hatred - just thinking about him made Makoto want to disappear.

But there’d been no other choice. Kyoko told him as much when they were investigating; ‘There’s a likelihood that you will have to reveal his secret during the trial,’ she had said, as they inspected the still-damp floorboards of the trophy room. ‘It may be the only way to clear his name.’

He’ll hate me for it, Makoto had protested, and she had just shrugged and turned back to inspecting the trophies, one of which had small dots of blood at the corner of its marble base.

‘Would you rather live being hated or die knowing you could have prevented it? He’ll get over it if he wants to survive.’ 

Easy for her to say, he thinks, as Mondo screams something at him, an barb so ugly it made him feel equal parts furious and sick with guilt, because Mondo would probably never say such a thing otherwise if it weren’t for this. She’s never had to do this before.

“Dammit, show me the proof! If he did do it, what’s the proof!” Mondo shouts, accompanied by a loud bang as he slams his hands against the railing. “You don’t have any goddamn proof, you little shit! So don’t just stand there and say shit you don’t know!”

“That’s enough.”

For a moment, it’s hard to place who said that. The words were spoken so quietly, after all, and so raspy it was hard to discern whose voice it was. But Byakuya cocks his head, and turns to look in Taka’s direction with a frown.

Taka is still as still as ever, but one hand rests on the bannister, and he’s leaning forward. “That’s enough, Mondo,” He says again, louder, before coughing into his elbow, clearing his throat. “Please…just stop.”

Mondo looks like he was slapped across the face, mouth agape in shock. “Wh-what are you saying?” He tries to laugh, but it sounds more like a sob than anything. “Taka - bro, it’s okay, you fell and hit your head-”

“Mondo. That’s enough,” He repeats. His eyes are hollow; Makoto finds it hard to look him in the face. “I killed Chihiro.”

Kyoko is the only one who speaks up to ask: “How?”

Taka talks slowly, haltingly, as if trying to dredge the memories up. “It - it was after Mondo left with Chihiro and Makoto. To the cafeteria. I was still cleaning, alone - when I’m alone, I think. About things, my family outside the school, if they’re alive, my secret, my grandfather - and then Chihiro came back. Alone.” He sways slightly, steadied only by his hand, white-knuckled against the wood. “And - as he was talking - I was still thinking - and -”

He pauses, taking slow, deep breaths. No one says a word. Makoto’s not sure if he’s even breathing.

“It just - it wasn’t fair. Him, confessing it - it was so easy, for him. He was so happy about it. My grandfather - if you knew, you would hate me. That’s how it’s always been, everyone who’s ever known about it, hated me. But he was so happy, and he -” He takes another deep, shuddering breath. “It was an accident. I - I just pushed him, I didn’t think I pushed him hard, but he hit the shelf. And, the trophy…”

It’s not hard to figure out what happened afterward. Makoto can practically imagine it, though he doesn’t want to; Chihiro going up to Taka, and Taka, too caught up in his own trauma, backing away, combatting his own fury and dread. And Chihiro, walking up closer to check on him, only to get shoved bodily backwards, into the trophy shelf, and then-

Mondo is shaking his head, tears falling silently down his face - muttering ‘no’ under his breath, over and over, like a mantra. Taka turns to him, a sad sort of smile tugging at his mouth.

“Thank you, Mondo. For trying,” And he sounds so genuine and so incredibly sad. “But - I can’t let my family be disgraced anymore. I can’t let anyone die for my sake.”

“No, no, no,” Mondo repeats, and despite his size, he shakes like a leaf. “No, don’t, don’t, Taka,” And his voice breaks. “Don’t- Please don’t, I won’t be able to take it, I can’t take it, Taka- not again-”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, don’t you dare fucking apologize-! Just-” He breaks down fully now, and turns away, one hand raised to his eyes.

“Forgive me,” Celeste interrupts, still wearing her indecipherable smile, unnatural red eyes narrowed slightly as she addresses Taka. “But I recall you were the first to suggest sharing secrets the night Monokuma revealed the motive, no?”

Taka recoils slightly at that, bowing his head. “I…I was. I thought - I could be prepared. If it’s the right thing to do, I could do it. But-” he turns away, his brows twisted into a scowl. “I…”

“Enough.” Kyoko sighs. “There’s no point in making pointless allegations. We have our explanation. There’s nothing left to say.”

And she casts Makoto a look, which Makoto interprets immediately, and he sighs.

—

As Makoto explains, it started when he and Chihiro were walking around the first floor, planning to find and talk to everyone Chihiro had yet to disclose his secret to.

After they had spoken to Owada, Chihiro went to talk with Ishimaru alone - Ishimaru, who was so rule-abiding and careful that no one would assume him to be of any danger - and that was how he died. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, and completely by accident.

Owada was the one who found the body, and to protect his friend, who was reeling from shock, he concocted a story as he wrapped the corpse in a cloth and mopped up the blood. To claim that he killed Chihiro, that Taka was merely injured, and therefore protect his friend from harm.

It was during this time that Fukawa was in the library, making her own confession, before Byakuya’s swift rejection sent her fleeing. As she went down the first floor, she saw the body, and with the cord that was tangled around her ankle, she strung it up outside the library door in a poor likeness of Syo’s handiwork. In some twisted display of vengeance, or a demand for attention, or something; and when it was done, overwhelmed by the blood and exhausted by her own perseverance, she took the sheet to the bathroom with her and collapsed, where Kirigiri found her moments later.

Byakuya listens to him explain it through a fog, feeling distant from it all. As if he was merely observing it from behind a broken, filthy screen, the sounds tinny and the visuals shot. He watches as Owada clings to Ishimaru, screaming for mercy at Monokuma’s feet. He watches as Ishimaru is dragged ruthlessly away anyway, behind the steel doors of the execution chamber.

He watches the execution, from behind a glass window. Ishimaru standing in a gleaming white car, the sunroof pulled down, driving through a street lined with the black-and-white shapes of more Monokumas, cheering indistinctly as confetti rains around him. The Monokuma in the seat next to him is holding a sign, lifting his arm to make him wave, poking his cheek to make him smile.

There’s a loud crack, and Ishimaru seems to stumble, a bloom of blood on the shoulder of his white uniform. But he doesn’t fall; he must be held up by some kind of mechanism or another, because a moment later he’s upright again, still being forced to wave, to smile, even as the cheering turns to jeers and he starts being pelted with what looks like rotten fruit, the dark red shapes of tomatoes smashing against his head. Another gunshot, and this time it’s his leg, a large, dark spot in his thigh. Another, in his stomach, and he seems to cough a little, blood trickling from his mouth.

There must be a microphone or something pinned to Ishimaru’s collar, because Byakuya can hear his breathing, harsh and labored, pitched with fear. The whimpering he can’t quite suppress, the jumps in his throat as he tries to swallow. And, the quiet whisper, barely audible behind the shouting, the gunshots, the noise of it all -

‘I’m sorry-

The final shot is a thunderous noise accompanied by a sudden, gaping pit between his eyes. He slumps, and the scene stills at last; the crowd stops yelling, the car freezes in its tracks. The lights go off, plunging Ishimaru’s lonely form into darkness.

And through it all, Owada never stopped screaming once.

Byakuya tears his eyes away, holding onto the railing of the stand to keep from falling as he steps down. It’s a similar scene as the aftermath of the last trial, everyone either comforting each other or wallowing in their own grief, and Monokuma giggling over them.

“Oh, oh, oh! That was good! Not even ol’ John could’ve done it better!” It sings, dancing between them. “I got a little antsy earlier when you called for the vote the first time, but you all pulled through with fly-ing colors!! Amazing performance! Especially that last confession, I was so moved!” It cackles, twirling and landing right next to Owada, who was on his knees, hands plastered against the window as if praying. “Such a lovely display of friendship at the end there, or was it really friendship? Whatever the case, the bond between men sure is something! I don’t think I’ve ever seen - whoops!”

Owada had grabbed him, and now rises with the bear dangling between his hands. His arms are trembling like Monokuma’s the heaviest thing he’s ever held.

“You,” He hisses, and his voice is wet and choked through. “If it wasn’t for you- if it wasn’t for you-!”

“Puhu, do you ree-ally want to do this, Mister Owada? Didn’t you learn your lesson on the first day of school?” Monokuma swings its feet in the air. “I’d hate to punish you after that amazing show-”

“I don’t care.” He spits. As Byakuya draws closer, he can hear the quiet splat of fat tears, striking the floor. “I don’t care, you killed him- I should tear you to pieces right now-”

And he stops, as Byakuya places a hand on his elbow. “Put it down.”

He’s sure that the face Owada is giving him is positively murderous. “Why should I,” he snarls, and his words are still thick with grief. “The fucker-”

“Even if you break this one, another one will take his place. And there’s probably countless replacements.” Byakuya sighs. What was he doing? He wasn’t sure himself. “What are you planning to accomplish? Other than a very messy suicide?”

“You bastard-” He drops Monokuma, who lands with a squeak, and grabs Byakuya instead, hoisting him by the collar. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? What does it matter to you if I die?” His last words sound less like a threat and more like a genuine question.

Instead of immediately replying, Byakuya casts a glance over his shoulder. Only a few people were watching them, the rest too preoccupied by their own misery. “...Take a look. There’s only so many of us left.” Byakuya looks back to Mondo, and even through the haze, he can see his face is pinched into a look of anguish. ”Did you hear what his last words were? Because I did.”

The grip on his shirt slackens, and his feet meet stable ground again. He pushes Owada’s limp hands away. “I don’t care if you want to die. But take responsibility at least.” He glares at him, his kneeling form. “We can’t leave until everyone’s on the elevator, so stand up and walk.”

There’s a part of him that wants to berate Owada - to tell him that Ishimaru likely never wanted his help in the first place, that all he accomplished was unnecessary strife - but such a thing doesn’t sit right with him. That would be the actions of someone petty and sore, a pathetic loser who couldn’t let it go; and right now, all Byakuya wants to do is sleep.

He steps onto the elevator. Celeste is already there, poised as ever, as is Yamada, who is mumbling unhappily to himself. Kirigiri and Makoto join them shortly after.

Makoto balks slightly when he sees Byakuya, tripping at the threshold with a yelp. But he straightens up quickly, glances around, and slowly, hesitantly, walks to Byakuya’s side. “Um…”

“Be silent.” He snaps. Makoto recoils instantly. “Do not speak to me. The deal is null.”

“Byakuya-”

He turns away, focusing on the metal grates of the elevator walls. The wires are bent into some kind of honeycomb pattern, though it’s not like Byakuya could make out exactly what.

He half-expects Makoto to say something more, but the elevator ride up is silent and still.

< previous - from start - next >

[ketsuarting]

thank you pookie for tagging me, big digital smoochies to you <3 @dayochoco uhhhh Get to know you game lezzgo;

Last song listened to:

"ネヴァモア" / nevermore by sasalasa

Actually such a banger, I have been looping this for the past three days I am obsessed.

Currently watching: Hazbin Hotel, kind offf?????? I have stopped properly consuming media, and started to just skip through episodes ten times until i have the whole plot together. I know. Horrid. I love the show tho and i am going to rewatch it with all my friends and draw fanart and I am actually writing a fanfic about it as we speak hihi

Currently reading: Coraline by @neil-gaiman, holy shit I can tag the man that's crazy, right? I loved the movie since i watched it as a lil diaper baby, and while i struggle with print media, i've been MEANING to read it. It's definitly on my nightstand. I've been rereading the first twenty pages a lot. Again, I struggles consuming media the traditional way grr

Currently obsessed with: One Piece and Hazbin Hotel, specifically OC's i made for both verses. Escapism is strong. Also! Crocheting and sewing have me in a deathgrip and I have been obsessed with tea for the past five years now, and I will continue to be obsessed with it for the forseeable future! Yippeeee! Boop ur snoot, ur turn, you've been tagged, SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES MEHAHAHAHAH @bloodofthepen @thegoodviolinist @mutatedleemon @flowerb-0y @1merfairy @1darkflame7

[definitelynotshouting]

I think I asked earlier and I forgot the answer or maybe you hadn’t decided yet, but you recently mentioned the difference between spawned players and born players again. I think you mentioned spawned players are more common - are any of the people we know and love (hermits or otherwise) born rather than spawned? Or are they all spawned??

I’m fascinated by the concept of spawned vs born players actually, and the way you said they’d have to get a comm specially made and fitted. Is there a minimum age a player needs to be for this? Actually what’s the lifespan of a player like, and how old are born players and spawned players each when they reach a similar developmental stage? I presume it’s different because spawned players are in a single player world alone whereas I assume born players are babies and thus need caring for?? Or how does that work.

I’m just. Fascinated anew by this concept which I had forgotten about until you mentioned it haha.

Omg hello!!! I genuinely dont think ive seen your previous ask, but 😅😅 i have a lot of them in my inbox rn, so i very well may have intended to reply and then lost the notification and accidentally forgotten

Either way, some of your questions have been answered in one of the very first posts i ever made about hunger au!!! Which means its probably VERY easy to miss since theres so much content in the tag now 💀 i really do need to post a link to my current masterlist for yall so it'll be easier to keep track of lore WODNKDNSKSK new project time YIPPEEEE <- loves organizing

As for the stuff that isnt included in that post, i'd say that yes, you do need to be of a certain age to get fitted with a comm-- im not quite sure what the requirement is, but its probably around when you first hit the double digits, maybe about 10ish?? Culturally it depends on the Player's parents/caretakers, but i think most born Players get their comms around ages 12-14.

Lifespan for Players is on the same level as arctic sponges here-- they live for a while before their code begins to destabilize of natural causes. Thousands of years at least. This is a pretty young universe relatively speaking, so several of the oldest Players who first spawned in are actually still around!!!

There are only two born Players on Hermitcraft, and those are Joe Hills and TFC. Mostly for vibes, and because the idea of the oldest looking hermit being technically younger than several of the others highly amuses me. Everyone else spawned in!! Since born Players are such a minority, it felt right to keep everyone else in the cast as spawned Players :]

Im so glad you like all this worldbuilding!!! :D everyone who says they find it fascinating makes me SO happy like i cannot even tell you, because for the longest time i felt like worldbuilding was one of my biggest weaknesses. So its really reassuring to hear im getting better at it and people enjoy it!! thank you for stopping by!! :]

[pommunist]

The term "doomposting" did irreparable damage to this fandom istg

The word you want to use is pessimistic. And as far as im concerned, being pessimistic is not a fucking crime, especially in this climate where we just keep getting bad news.

And ESPECIALLY when pessimists did the polite thing and made sure that most of the negativity was kept out of the main tag. For months. To allow the optimistic fans to still enjoy the project. (Valid)

I hate seeing people be like, "Here's my negative opinion, but I swear!! it's not doomposting!!" Like honey, it's OK!!!

Don't justify yourself to the people who intentionally hurt themselves by going through the negative tags!!! Don't let their vagueposting intimidate you into censoring yourself!!! You don't owe anyone your trust and optimism!!!! <3

Doomposting would be saying THE END IS NEAAAAR when nothing bad is going on, doomposting isn’t going like « hey guys you see that big meteor in the sky going straight for us right ? i think that the Big Meteor is not a good sign »

also yeah yippeeee for the tumblr tagging system if you don’t wanna see anything negative you can always filter out tags to make the big meteor unnoticeable to you if it’s distressing to see it fall lmao i’m gonna let that wanky metaphor go now

Once again I think this sentiment of people being afraid to voice anything negative comes from qsmpblr’s want to be as far as possible to what qsmptwt can be but it’s not good when it makes everyone feels like they can’t air out how they’re feeling and it only leads to frustration :(

as long as you’re not harming anyone with what you’re saying vent your heart out guys if u feel the need or if u want to !

[riacte]

OKAY. Not to outs’d myself but I think this is absolutely hilarious. About a week or so ago I stumbled upon your Falseren Superhero au (WHICH BANGS BTW. INCREDIBLE FIC. WAS ABSOLUTELY EATING THAT UP). I then proceeded to like binge read everyone single one of your other fics (I just adore your writing style and I’m gonna have to read dearly beloathed now). ANYWAYS. I’m addicted to the Falseren brain rot now; I absolutely scavenge the tag. Next day I am on Pinterest, and I see this post about the if the earth stopped spinning the moon would push it back into orbit. And now im on the Wikipedia pages researching physics concepts about it and then late at night it clicks in my head. This is absolutely Falseren. 2007 words happen in less time than I’d like to admit. Anyways I am scrolling through my dash today and Lo and behold the post I saw earlier tagged ABOUT THEM. HELLO?!? I think we are on a strangely similar wave length. Either that or I osmosissed it from ur Fics themes. Anyways. Ur a really cool writer thanks for writing fics that we’re making me giggle in the middle of the night and dragging me into the brain rot :D!

HAIII are you who I think you are on ao3 👀 many thanks for reading and I’m glad you like my stuff :)

Yeah I made that “your moon is here” post about them (or the Spopera versions of them) and it massively breached containment lmfao 🥺🥺 and yippeeee you get me 🥺 they’re just… orbiting around each other… reeling each other in…. 🥺🫶

[bluberimufim]

Find the Word Tag

Tag gamessss!!! I'm back to posting writingggg!!! (not that I'm writing original stuff rn, I'm just posting about it again)

Anywayyy, I got tagged by @olliexwrites (go check it out) for this. My words are White, Storm, Love, and Desk and I'll be taking the snippets from "Devourer of Souls" and "Black and White" as usual.

I'll gently tag @leisoree, @stesierra, and @writernopal, and your words will be Oppose, Bet, Risk, and City.

White (from DoS)

"We're going to the frontlines," replied one of the soldiers, with a moustache sprinkled with white hairs. "I don't think it's a proper place for a girl like you." I'm not a girl, Seth thought, but she restrained herself. She tried to look nice. "That's where I'm going!" she explained, setting one hand on the car. "I'm a healer." "You don't look like a healer. Where's your cloak?" "I'm in disguise," she lied. "My Master Healer Lady asked me to come work for the Lady Demigoddess." For a moment, she was grateful they'd hammered these titles into her head so hard they came out naturally. She sounded more convincing this way.

Storm (from B&W)

"I never thought I'd say this to you at age twenty-four, but I think you're senile." "I'm not senile, I'm drunk! You know, I once met a writer who said he had his best ideas when drunk. It's what I'm doing! Brainstorm! I've been thinking about it for a while, see?" He fished out his little black notebook from the inner pocket of his coat. It was much more worn out than a notebook that recent had any right to be. He set it down on the table and started flipping through it, showing its contents to Diedrich. Most of it was scribbles, with one or two notes scattered here and there. It was clear he'd given up on being organized about halfway through.

Love (from DoS)

"Don't you think it's weird to date the person you're healing?" Asha looked at her, confused. "No. Why?" "Well... she's eating up your soul piece by piece." "You're getting it wrong. I give my soul to her of my own free will precisely because I love her. I want to keep her alive, and if parts of my soul are what she needs, I'll offer them whenever she wants. For my love for her and my love for the Goddess of Time. This way, I slowly become part of her. Don't you find it the most romantic act of devotion there is?" Seth didn't reply so she wouldn't have to lie.

(I love Asha, she's so weird)

Desk (from B&W)

"Let me see him," he insisted. ""No," Johann repeated. "I'm his father. I want to see him. Let me go see him." "I've been there. The others called me over to go see it. It's not a vision I'd wish upon anyone. Especially not you. Stay." "I don't want to. I can't. If it was your son, I would have let you see him. For the last time. Let me go see Alphonse." "Diedrich, please don't insist. You can see him later, just not now. Not in the state he's in. I don't want you to see the look on his face. or his eyes. Try to understand, please. Diedrich let go of the desk and tried to stand up straight. He sighed. "Fine."

Damn, that was mostly normal and then ended in an emotional gut-punch. At least for me, because I know the context. Yippeeee!! 🥳🥳🥳

[sacredfirmament]

9 people you want to get to know better tag game-- tagged by @dirtnote yippeeee!!!

Three ships: i guess my girls from the guy i was interested in because i'm weirdly invested in them. can two silly girls who like dad music date each other? we will find out!

First ship: oh girl it might have been karezi. LMFAO i am who i am

Last Song: nosferatu - blue oyster cult :)

Last Movie: oh god i barely watch movies it might have been mutant mayhem. cute but not my favorite turtle incarnation (i imprinted on rise like a duck who is determined to like things other people hate)

Currently Reading: i just finished dune but i want to reread it so let's just say dune. i need to start the labyrinth of spirits by carlos ruiz zafón too but the angel's game was such a drag it put me off 😭😭 sorry mr zafón

Currently Watching: UM. nothinggg teehee? i have a to-watch list a mile long and it scares me so i don't start anything

Currently Consuming: if it's food i have pho in the fridge

Currently Craving: i would do terrible things for a trader joes girlfriend chocolate muffin right now. i need them to make a pumpkin one too

i don't wanna tag anybody rn so if you are mutuals with me/follow me and love to have fun i'm tagging you with my mind

[starchasing-cryptid]

stop ur so sweet :( i genuinely get happy when i see you interact w my stuff </3 and just some drafts for live now & future drabbles! also worked on your request <3 🤞 not sure abt tags tho :( i gotta think so i’ll get back to ya 🫡

im glad im glad, i'll be ur no 1 hype man ‼️‼️ YIPPEEEE i cant wait!! i know it's gonna be so good cus it's u 🤞

[creepycrawlycreature]

tag people you'd like to get to know better!

tagged by @basketcat !! yippeeee! thank you for the tag!! :)

last song: violent days by screaming sneakers — thank you youtube algorithm for always giving me awesome music recommendations

currently watching: fionna and cake!! I finally just got around to watching it and I CANNOT WAIT for season two!!!

three ships: the titanic, the Lusitania, and the Flying Dutchman

sorry for the stupid answer haha but I never really got into shipping! I do really enjoy seeing other people’s ships though, the fan art is always awesome!!!

favorite color: purple always—but chartreuse deserves an honorable mention, it’s my favorite shade of green!

currently consuming: guayaki Yerba mate. this stuff is my life blood !!!!

first ship: another silly answer but my dad used to have a dinky little boat that he named after his mom. he sold it many years ago now, but I do have some faint memories of being on it when I was little :)

place of birth: the hospital

current location: nestled up in my favorite chair with two blankets wrapped around me :3

relationship status: single and happy!!

last movie: Lisa Frankenstein! saw it in theaters with my best friend and we both loved it!! very silly and fun

currently working on: nothing in particular at the moment!! in general i am working on my mental health but that’s just a constant ongoing thing haha

I’m always too shy to put myself out there and tag people, but if any mutuals see this and feel so inclined then please jump in if you’re interested!!! I would love to see your answers!! anyways thank you again for the tag!! this was so much fun!! :)