#PROBABLY EVERY OTHER GUESS I MAKE FOR THE REST OF THIS GAME WILL BE DEAD WRONG BUT IN THIS MOMENT I COULD KILL GOD

[cheriden]

˙ . ˚ ₊ 「 liar, liar 」 ꜝꜝ

“ "Thought people wanted college to be over. Looks like they never want to let go.” Soobin jokes. You look down, swaying your feet out of shame for being one of those people.”

── synopsis 。yeonjun drags you to a party and you get caught up in the middle of truth-or-dare.

pairing 。best friend!yeonjun x reader x friend!soobin

.ᐟ genre 。angst (yeonjun) and sort-of fluff (soobin) (and eventual smut)

.ᐟ tags 。yeonjun is an asshole, making out, college au, miscommunication/arguing because none of them want to compromise, i love soobin, drinking and party games

.ᐟ status & word count 。two-parts | 1.73k | masterlist

part 1 | part 2

.ᐟ warnings/notes 。 i did not proofread what's new! reader is gender neutral BUT will be afab once the smut comes along. poll at the end<3

“And if I don’t enjoy it?” You argue, to which the other whines and pulls you next to him. “You will, trust me on this.”

You would, except he promised you the same thing the past three parties ago. 

Yeonjun has been your best friend since diapers— a result of your parents being friends, and though you’d usually say he has your best interests at heart, sometimes his own precedes yours. He tries to get you into new things—clubbing, raving, organizations that require you to be social; you could really see how hard he tries to gain shared hobbies with you. 

Admittedly, it’s a bit unfair for him. He participates in all your activities, no matter how boring they get; and he enjoys them, so much so that he’d come to introduce you to his friends with similar pastimes. Which is why you’re here, but you can’t deny how tired you get of his social scene. It’s a bit too fast and loud for your liking, a point made as the both of you make your way through the sweaty crowd, Yeonjun greeting (screaming) at every familiar person he comes across. He guides you by the hand into the kitchen area, scoping the rest of the scene out. He says he’ll be right back, though it usually takes him 30 minutes to do so. He also says you can come with him. You shake your head and hoist yourself up the counter, palming the pockets of your clothing. You realize Yeonjun kept your phone in his bag. You grumble, mentally preparing to search for him, but the ocean of bodies is getting more violent as the night goes on. With a sigh, you pace around the empty area. You rummage through the cupboards and the fridge, only they’re all completely empty. You’d assume the drink table was somewhere off the side of the living room, and all you do is walk through the barren space. A knock is heard on the doorframe, and you look up to see one of Yeonjun’s friends. 

Soobin is one of the people in his close circle who keeps to himself, and he’s the one you share most in common with. “I’m guessing he hauled you to one of these again.” He comments, sitting on the counter next to you. “I didn’t know there were so many graduation parties to attend in a row.” You mumble. The other laughs, playing with the solo cup in his grasp. “Me neither. Thought people wanted college to be over. Looks like they never want to let go.” You look down, swaying your feet out of shame for being one of those people. You know the reason is childish and troublesome, embarrassingly cliche—but you’ll miss the proximity you share with your friends, namely Yeonjun. Skipped classes and free periods will no longer have you meet each other, to be replaced with a nine-to-five and what’s most probably a dead-end career in different areas of the city as the best case scenario. “Might as well enjoy it before the graduation ceremony, right?” You peruse, nudging his side. Soobin furls his eyebrows “You enjoy sitting here, bored out of your mind?” Rolling your eyes, you get on your feet and extend your hands to the blond. He raises an eyebrow, but can’t contain the smile on his face when he takes your hand in his. 

“I think we’ve made a big mistake.” Soobin whispers, watching the host explain the game. The two of you were stumbling around the house before you were pulled in by a group of strangers, forced to sit down. “We know how to play truth or dare, idiot.” Yeonjun groans across you, uninterested. “Can’t we just play regular spin the bottle or something?” One of his friends chuckle beside him, “So we can all get an STD from you? Yeah, no thanks.” The two argue even more, before the host shakes his head and tells them to shut up. “Let’s just start, okay?” The circle nods, and the bottle twirls around the carpeted floor. 

It lands on Yeonjun—and you have to physically restrain yourself from looking annoyed at the amount of fake ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ that come next. “Yeonjun,” The boy sings, "I dare you to kiss who you think is the hottest person in the room.” The brunette raises his hand, but is shut down. “No, you can not kiss yourself.” With a pout, Yeonjun stalks forward, earning a flinch from you. His gaze flickers to yours for a moment, but your incessant heartbeat suddenly drops when he swivels his head to kiss the person beside you. 

You gulp, and take in one long breath. It seems like forever, you watching him kiss someone else right in front of you. Your eyes are wide, gripping the hem of your bottoms as he pulls away slowly, smirk etched onto his lips as he wipes the string of saliva off it. You’re stuck staring at nothing for minutes, occasionally taking sips of your beer and glancing at Yeonjun to see him unbothered and carefree. His expression makes your stomach ill (though half of it is due to your drinking),  and you’re about to excuse yourself when the snout of the bottle lands on your feet. All of them are watching you, including the brunette’s curious ones. You take a deep breath, and plop down onto the cushion. The girl who’s up to dare you smiles, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I dare you to kiss the person that means the most to you.” But everyone here knows who means the most to you. “Why are we playing truth or dare if everyone’s just gonna be kissing each other anyway.” You deflect with a false laugh, but all the girl does is shrug. “Dunno—still a dare though, isn't it?” You weigh your options. If you did decide to kiss Yeonjun, you’re pretty sure your friendship would be over. If you flee, you’ll not only become virgin-coward-of-the-year, but it’d still be pretty obvious why you ran away. 

But you, in your semi-intoxicated and pressured mind, decide on the third option: Kiss Soobin. He stutters when he feels your lips on his, his hands shooting up in response. You contemplate ending your life there and then, but are surprised when he reciprocates by grabbing your waist and deepening the kiss. Soobin threads his tongue through your mouth and moves his fingers up to your face, cupping the cheeks. He’s warm and sweet and sends tingles all over your body—it’s only when you need to breathe that you separate from him, panting. Though your eyes are still locked into his, you can gauge the reaction of those around you through your peripheral vision: utter shock. It’s this realization that makes you whip your head to none other than Yeonjun, who gets up to tug you with him. “Okay, that’s enough. You’ve hit your limit and we need to get you home.” The group’s protests and boos go in one ear and out the other, as you’re dragged by the arm out onto the porch. Agitated, you shove him away. “What’s your problem? You’re the one who made me go to this stupid party.”

“You’re kissing strangers, get yourself together.” You look at him incredulously. “Soobin is not a stranger, he’s your best friend.”

“He’s a stranger to you. How could you even say he means the most to you when it's so obviously me?” Turning away from him, you hand your head up into the sky. “How full of yourself—and where was this concern during the parties where you left me alone? You didn’t even bring me home half of the time, Soobin did.” “Is that what this is about? You’re getting back at me for that?” You groan, rubbing your hands across your face. “It’s not that–” “Is it payback because I didn’t kiss you?” Laughing in astonishment, you point an accusatory finger at him. “You narcissistic asshole! Not everything's about you! Why would I be jealous of that?” The smug look on his face is nearly enough to send you over the edge, but his next words solidify it. “Because you’re in love with me.” You hide your guilt with a look of repulsion, expressions eerily similar to one another. “Now why would I fall in love with an egocentric, reckless, douchebag?” You spoke, tone dim and low. “Why are we even friends when all you’ve done  is disregard my feelings to fit in with your standards?” Yeonjun buries his face in his hands, muttering. “It's because our parents forced us to. I try so hard to make you feel included, to invite you to everything;” He pauses, narrowing his eyes at you, “But you always wallow in your own sadness and loneliness that you don’t even fucking try.” You scoff, “Try? I’ve done nothing but try ever since you decided you were too cool to hang out with me in highschool.” Crossing your arms, you keep your gaze pinned to the ground and sway back and forth. “I’m fine the way I am. The truth is, you don’t accept me for me. Why would I make the effort?” Now he scoffs, forcing you to face him. “That’s how the world works, you can’t sit in solitude for the rest of your life. I’m helping you when the time comes that you’ll need to make that effort and I won’t be around to do it for you.” His words linger in the air for a few seconds. Deep down, you knew that neither of you would keep in touch if it weren't for academics and proximity. You’d become jaded by reaching out, and Yeonjun would get tired of responding. Solemnly, you turn your head up with your eyes closed. “I don’t need you to babysit me. Just fuck off and leave already.” His lips part in hurt and shock, unsure of what to say. “I don’t need your bullshit either.” He spits. “How could someone like me? How could anyone fall in love with someone as close-minded and pessimistic as you?” He stomps off into his car, leaving you alone with your thoughts as the trees sway and the wind howls. There’s not a single star in the sky, and all you can do is sit on the stairs of the porch as crickets chirp and the house muffles the boom of the soundsystem.

[cherryswisherz]

wilshire

paige x azzi

warnings: kissing, cheating, heartbreak, cursing, semi happy ending, most of this is written as a flashback, long as shit for no reasonnnn

it's the 2024 wnba draft. azzi's my plus one. nika and aaliyah are getting drafted tonight and i'm trying to keep my cool. because tonight is about them, not about me, not about azzi, not about our summer of utter fucking confusion.

lights from cameras flash. i smile, i mog, i pose. reporters are shoving mics in my face asking stupid questions as i guide azzi off the red carpet with my hand in a respectful position on her back. we have to find the girls before the draft starts. azzi wants to meet them before so it's not awkward at the after party. i'm trying to tune everything out but 6 words take me back to june and i freeze in my tracks.

"what's going on between you two?"

-

met you on a saturday knew it was somethin' soon as you spoke it eye fucking across the table, don't think anybody noticed you asked me if I was coming to the city you from maybe we should kick it, i was interested that would be dumb, if i denied

"paige..." that was the only thing she'd said directly to me all night. the rest of the time she'd spoke to everyone, answering their questions about how she met ethan, what her major was, etc. 

i'd been staring at her as she did this. studying the way she spoke with her hands, the flutter of her lashes, the bounce of her curls. her voice was so sweet and she always smiled when she wasn't talking so i could see her perfect fucking teeth. 

"where you from?" someone, i couldn't remember who, asked and she threw a glance my way, looking me dead in my eyes for a split second. 

i knew where she was from. we played against each other every year in high school. i was a year ahead of her. we never really paid attention to each other off the court, but i knew she was a killer player and an acl injury during her junior year took her out of the game for good

"uh- i'm from virginia. arlington county." she smiled as she cut her chicken. "me and paige played each other before i had to quit." she looked at me again, longer this time, and i damn near melted into the chair before she put her attention back on the conversation. 

"yeah she gave me a run for my money." i laughed, and that made her look at me again. she seemed confused, probably because i hadn't spoken this entire time. 

"my schools giving you a run for your money." she giggled and it was the most perfect sound i'd ever heard. "they say you're gonna be back when you guys play us next month. any truth to that?"

the competitive side of me took over when i answered her. "yeah i'll be back to tap dance on yalls ass in your own arena." 

"i guess we're in trouble then, huh?" she asked, her big brown eyes boring into mine.

you and i make sense, you stayed back at my telly we was chattin' 'til morning, vibration was heavy i wasn't drowning or yawning that's when i told you my feelings you told me you felt the same but you got homie you dealin' with damn, i didn't know, that's a bit unexpected but i get it, it's whatever, least i can do is respect it

after that dinner, azzi and i hadn't stopped texting and facetiming. it felt wrong because she was my friends girl, but i couldn't leave her alone. i wanted to be near her even if i couldn't see her in person until my team played hers. 

as predicted, we beat their ass and i made sure to remind azzi of that the whole ride back to her apartment. and when we got there, i took off my hoodie and plopped onto the couch. 

"so what we doing tonight? you wanna go out or stay in?" i asked her, praying she said stay in because i was dead tired. 

"definitely stay in." she said, sitting beside me on the couch. "lets put on a movie or something." 

and we did. we put a movie on. now did we watch the movie? no. 

we started talking, just yapping about any and everything. i was totally wrapped up in what she had to say, whether it was about school, or music, or anything really. i wasn't even tired anymore, she had my full attention. 

but then the conversation shifted to basketball and azzi's mood shifted with it. 

"sometimes i try and run 1v1 with ethan and for a second, i forget that my leg is fucked. for those 45 minutes i feel like everything is how i planned it to be." she looks at her knee poking out of her ripped jeans, then she rubs her scar. "and then i stand on it the wrong way and i remember that i'm not a player anymore. just a fan." the crack her voice forces me to grab her and pull her into me, letting her sob into my chest.

"az, you'll always be a baller. that shit's in your spirit ma." i almost wanna cry with her. "and even though you can't play anymore, you're one of the most beautiful people on the planet. and you're smart and you could do anything you wanted to do, basketball be damned."

a few minutes passed and she sniffled, looking up at me, and i got lost her red eyes and wet lashes. our faces were so close together, i could feel her breath on my nose. 

"i really like you azzi." 

fuck.  i shouldn't have said that.  she has a boyfriend.  her boyfriend is my fucking friend she's probably stra-

"i really like you too p." 

oh?

"but i'm with ethan. and he's good for me."

oh.

anyway, convince him to bring you to me so we can kick it right in front of his lenses, since nothing here is malicious you sat by me in that movie we went outside for them doobies we walkin' off when we talk man, that nigga not fucking stupid

"you should bring azzi to storrs with you." i suggested to ethan. "does she like horror movies?"

"uhhh yeah i think so..." he trailed off then scard the hsit out of m. "AZ! YOU WANNA COME WATCH A MOVIE WITH US?" i guess she asked who all was coming. "JUST ME AND PAIGE!" and then i guess she said yes. "okay paige, we'll be there in like 30." 

at the movies, in the five minutes i was waiting for them, i checked my hair 4 times, rearranged my jewelry twice and made sure my breath didn't smell like lunch. and when they got there i choked on my spit because azzi was wearing a sundress that hugged her in every right way. 

i honestly dont think there could be a wrong way. 

when she hugged me she whispered "i missed you." in my ear and dropped a light kiss on my neck that left me flushed. 

in the theater, i sat between her and ethan but we didn't really pay him any attention

"you look really good paige." azzi whispered to me. 

i looked down at my basic ass outfit (wifebeater and sweats), that i spiced up with jewelry and some fire shoes. "girl, this is lightweight." i whispered back.

"yeah well you look good in anything." 

"you look good too az," 

"you think so?" she's fishing.

"if your boyfriend wasn't next to me we wouldn't just be talking right now." i laughed, taking her bait. 

i got a laugh out of her and then she moved to hit me on the leg, but i caught her hand and tangled out fingers together, looking forward at the screen. she didn't move her hand. just set both of ours in my lap. and we stayed that way for like 15 minutes until she leaned into me and whispered again. 

"i hate horror movies, and he's snoring." she laughed pointing over me at her boyfriend who was knocked the fuck out. "can we leave?"

"yeah i got you." i thumped ethan on the head, causing him to jerk out of his sleep.  "yo. wake up, you're loud as hell. ya'll go home."

when we left the theater we walked out in silence but when we stared to say goodbye, azzi cleared her throat.

"actually, i wanna get something to eat really quick so, e, you can go home." she placed her hand on my shoulder, squeezing a little. "paige can you take me home after?"

my heart sped a little at the thought of being alone with her but i kept it P because her literal boyfriend was right next to me. 

"uh yeah if that cool with you?" i asked, not because i needed his permission, but because he's my friend and i wanted it. 

"yeah of course." he nodded then dapped me up "goodnight p."

"night." as soon as he was gone, i rubbed my hands together and looked down at azzi, catching those brown eyes in a way that made me think i never wanted to lose them. "so... where we boutta eat because im hungry as hell." 

"im not actually hungry, i just wanted to spend time with you." she said, putting her hands behind her back. "but you live here, so you pick."

"oh word?" i raised my eyebrows and put an arm around her shoulder, turning so we were side by side as we started walking towards my car. "imma take you to my spot."

"take me anywhere you like." she said, opening the passenger door, leaving me looking over the roof of my car, trying to keep it together until i got in the driver seat and began to queue a few songs. 

then i got a text. 

ethan: tell az to bring me a to-go plate

ethan. FUCK.

said you can't fully be into me 'cause you with him then why the fuck when we link it's like he doesn't exist? they all know that we're friends but we both aware that it's more everything i got, if you say the word, then it's yours

the party was loud as shit. i was drunk as shit. azzi was drunk as shit. ethan was nowhere to be found. 

"paige i have to peeeee." azzi whined into my ear. 

"okay come on." i shouted, guiding her to the bathroom, which was empty. 

while she was in the stall, i drank some water from the faucet, because i was so fucked up and i think that's why i haven't been able to stop thinking about her.

about how fucking hot she looked in her outfit. about how long her natural lashes were. about how soft her lips looked. about the heat radiating from her body as she danced with me. 

shes so fucking pretty.

"oh my god i feel so much better!" she shouted into the universe as she came out of the stall and started washing her hands. 

i think i just wanted to be close to her again because i moved behind her and hugged her from behind. with my head in her neck, i kissed her softly moaning quietly, "you smell so good, az." 

she turned around in my arms, facing me and i kept kissing her neck, moving to her collarbones, then i pulled away and we just stared at each other for a second. 

it was like a silent conversation, asking each other "are we really gonna do this?"

and i guess the answer was yes, because azzi leaned in and place a single peck on my lips, then pulled away with the speed of light. 

but one wasn't enough. so i leaned back in and enveloped her lips with mine. our mouths moved in perfect harmony, giving me everything i'd wanted since that dinner so long ago. she moaned into my mouth, and i picked her up, placing her on the sink behind her. 

we just kept kissing, caressing each others tongues, rolling our bodies into each others, both of us enjoying the way the other person felt. 

....until she pulled away, pushing me back when i chased her lips. 

"paige we can't." she said, trying to catch her breath. 

"azzi..."

"i have a boyfriend, paige." she sounded kind of sad as she said it. 

"i know az." i said, walking back up to her. "but tell me there's nothing here." i grabbed her hands. "tell me, that these past 3 months, you haven't felt what i feel."

"you know i do paige. i wouldn't have kissed you if i didn't." she looked at me with tears in her eyes. 

you told me when you're with me it's like heroin told me that your confidence went up since we befriended

"when im with you, i feel like i'm floating. like it's just us and that's all i'll ever need. you're-" she sniffled. "you're the only person who gets how much not being able to play fucking sucks. and you made me feel better about it. you make me feel like so much more than a fan, or just a person in the stands. and no one's ever made me feel that way."

and told me that you didn't wanna hurt him

"but ethan, p. ethan is my boyfriend. hes your friend. and he's so good to me. he loves me. and i can't do that to him."

why we doing this?

"so why kiss me then azzi?" i asked. "why the fuck would you let me touch you, or say the things we say, or let me buy you shit? why did you fucking kiss me?!" 

it was harsh, i know but she fucking played me and i was pissed. 

told me this a awkward situation and you just wanna be through with it

"i don't know paige. and i'm sorry." she kept crying. i assume she felt guilty, and i couldn't give less of a fuck. "this isn't easy for either of us. but i think we should just be friends. i don't wanna lose ethan, but i don't wanna lose you as a friend either. 

i snatched my hands out of hers and back away from her so fast, you would have though she had the plague. 

"friend? azzi. you were never 'a friend' to me. i liked you as soon as i saw you in that fucking restaurant. and i tried to be respectful. i tried to respect your relationship but you were the one who made me think you wanted me. you were the one lying to your fucking boyfriend to spend time with me. sneaking into the bathroom to facetime me at 11 at night. you were the one who kissed me. you. it was all fucking you. and now... now youre asking me to be friends? fuck outta here bro." i said, then walked out of the stall and out of the bar.

i know you could be it and everyone around me that care about me can see it i could fuck a trillion bitches every country i done been in men or women, it don't matter if i seen 'em, then i had 'em but with you, it's a feeling

i was still plastered, so i had nothing but time to think about the situation. 

i knew azzi and i could be great, if she just gave it- gave us- a chance. i knew she wanted to. i knew she felt what i was feeling. i'd have known even if she didn't say it. i also knew she didn't feel for ethan, what she felt for me. but she felt an obligation to him. why? i have no idea. but i just wish she would have made up her fucking mind before sticking her tongue down my throat. 

and i know what you're thinking. 

she just wanted to smash.

and that's not true. me and azzi aren't a quick fuck. 

i mean i'm not opposed to a quick fuck. it wasn't a secret that i was bit of a slut. i mean can you blame me? 

d1 athlete, making bank off NIL money. and every girl in every city i went to, wanted a piece of me. who was i to deny them? 

so yeah i guess you can say i got around, but none of that mattered when it came to azzi. she wasn't just a groupie looking for a quick fuck, or to be a basketball wife. she was a baller. if anything she wanted to live vicariously through me and compete again. and i was willing to let her do just that. 

azzi was the object of my affection for three fucking months. i knew everything about her. i fucking craved her. i knew it was wrong. i knew she was my friends girlfriend. but i couldn't quit her. 

my teammates could tell that i had feelings for her too. anytime i was on the phone for more than 10 minutes, they knew it was hr. they picked on my for it, calling me a simp. kk nicknamed me 'sidepiece' which was a nice change from 'community strap' but it stung worse. 

whatever. 

fuck her. 

you said you told him the truth and you never lied now he lookin' at you with them eyes we never crossed the line but he got every right to be a little pissed off he you picked up, y'all got in argument he got his shit off

two weeks after the bar incident, i'd somewhat gotten myself together. figured out how to sleep without her goodnight text. found new favorite spot to eat. slept with someone without seeing azzis face. i'd found a new routine. 

and then it all went to shit. 

"azzi? its 9:30 at night, why are you calling me?" she answered my question with a sob. "azzi baby what's wrong?

"paige... he- he knows.." she cried into the phone. 

"who knows what, az?"

"ethan!" more crying. "he-he-he asked me out no where if you and i had something going on."

"shit." 

"and i couldn't lie to him paige. i told him we never had sex, but-but i told him how i felt about you, and that i kissed you and he just went off." she was crying so hard, i could narely understand her. "he said he should have known not to trust me around you when i told him i was bi, and that you couldn't let him have one thing, and that he couldn't look at me and- and- and-" she started hyperventilating. 

"azzi baby i need you to calm down for me. breathe babe." i mimicked the way she should breathe and got her to calm down enough to listen to me. "azzi. i'm gonna come get you. send me your location and just stay there and stay calm."

"okay..."

i never drove so fast in my fucking life.

i picked you up, your energy off your lips really dry, something is off you asked if i gotta, i asked if you gotta we tripping on our words nobody is lying, hakuna matata we sat in the car and cried for an hour

as soon as i got to the starbucks azzi was at, i looked at her through the window and my heart broke for her. she was in pajamas and a bonnet. those beautiful brown eyes i'd grown so fond d were red and swollen, lashes wet with tears. her soft lips weren't soft anymore. they looked dehydrated, that's how much she'd cried. 

when she got in the car, she didn't say anything. just played with the sleeves of ethans hoodie. 

"do you-" "i'm so-"

we spoke at the same time, then waited for the other to say what they were gonna say. 

"i'm really sorry paige." she whimpered. "i never meant for any of this to happen. i never meant to hurt you or him. and i shouldn't have called you after what happened." she broke down again. "god i'm so fucking sorry." she cried with her head in her hands. 

"hey..." i rubbed her shoulder, "it's fine. you made a mistake and it's okay. "

"i'm so sorry." she just kept sobbing. she was too upset to hear anything i was saying. "i love you too much to have done that to you paige. im so sorry."

and time stopped. 

she WHAT?!

she said she loved me. she said-  no. she's hysterical right now she doesn't realize what she's saying.

ignoring the pit in my chest, i bring her closer to me, making us both lean over the center console. her head fell perfectly into my chest and she let everything she had out. 

as i held her, and felt her whole body shake as she cried, my heart shattered with hers and shed a few tears with her.

on god, i love that girl i'm a sh-, i'm a bad person like, i'm in the wrong, i'm a bad person i had no ill intentions, though shit, everybody got hurt i got hurt

i never meant for any of this to happen. i pride myself on being a good friend, and being loyal to those who are loyal to me. 

and the one time it really mattered, i had to fall for my friends girlfriend. and he really like her too. i think if i hadn't fucked it up, they could have been great. but i did. and it's ruined. 

and all this for what?

for ethan to be hurt? for me to lose a friend? for azzi to feel like shit? for me to have to act like i'm not hopelessly in love with azzi?

and i'm mad private with this side of my life cause people are weirdos, and i just try to keep anyone i care about in the shadows safe from the commentary and spotlight and thoughts cause it's just a story for the people outside of it but i guess you're just another chapter in a book

and here we are, at the 2024 wnba draft in support of my teammates. 3 days ago, i would have been here alone. 

but azzi needed a pick me up and i would rather her be her friend than nothing at all. 

so instead of breaking down about what could have been on a red carpet, i smile, lean into th mic and say, 

"azzi is one of my closes friends. she was supposed to be one of the greats and if she hadn't gotten hurt, she would have been drafted next year. so i just wanted her to see it in real life because she's so much more than a fan. she deserves to be here with us."

i looked at her and smiled, pulling her to the back rooms of the building where nika and aaliyah were getting ready. 

but between the two of us....

i would shoot someone in the face if it meant azzi would light up like that again.

niyah speaks: here we areeeeee s/o my tyler fans CHROMOKOPIA 10-28 !!!! i'm finna do yall requests over the weekend because i have nothing else to do so... be prepared!

taglist: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @1onescu

@mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @authentic-girl03

[sukuna-dees-nuts]

rizzless sukuna pt 5

lowkey this is almost feels like crack at this point 😭

idk what im doing. im just going with the vibes i started with when writing this series lmaoo

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

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It's a beautiful Saturday morning; the sun is bright, the birds are chirping, and Yuuji is currently setting up the gaming console as Nobara and Megumi make themselves comfortable on the couch. His parents are out running errands together and Sukuna is… actually, Yuuji doesn't know and currently isn't concerned with his brother's whereabouts because it means that Yuuji and his friends get the house to themselves for the time being.

Nobara kicks off her shoes and plops down in the middle of the couch, resting her feet on the coffee table. Megumi drops next to her, pulling out his phone as he looks around. He glances back to Yuuji as he asks, “Is Sukuna not here?”

“Who cares?” Nobara replies, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Uhh, I don't know,” Yuuji says over his shoulder with a shrug as he gets to his feet. He makes his way back to the couch, tosses a controller to Megumi's lap, and hands another to Nobara. Taking a seat next to her, he sighs, “Probably vandalizing old buildings or something.

Nobara snorts. “Egging houses,” she adds.

“Surely he's done that before,” Yuuji comments as he picks his character and kart.

It’s no surprise that Yuuji and Nobara battle for first place in every race. Both are extremely competitive and weirdly good at this game. Megumi, however, almost always finishes in dead last. He doesn’t care; he never has and probably never will.

“Hey, Megumi, do you ever not come in last place?” Nobara asks with a shit-eating grin, pulling her eyes away from the screen and over to her friend. His brows are pulled together, and there’s a deep frown on his face as he falls off the edge of the map again.

“Do you ever shut up?” he grunts.

Yuuji cackles. “Don’t you play with Gojo?”

“Not because I want to,” Megumi sighs, dropping the controller when he finally finishes the race.

“Well, I guess someone has to give him enrichment time,” Nobara hums and crosses one leg over the other.

The front door opens, and Sukuna steps inside the house. He wipes his face with the hem of his shirt as he walks into the living room. Of course, the last thing he expects to see is Megumi sitting on his couch.

Their eyes meet, and Sukuna feels his heart skip a beat.

Instantly, Megumi’s eyes flicker from Sukuna’s face to his exposed abdomen and back up again. It’s only a split second later that he looks away, awkwardly scratching his cheek as he looks down at the controller in his hands.

“What are you losers doing?” Sukuna asks as he steps into the living room.

“We were having a good time,” Yuuji states without looking away from the screen. His character throws a red shell, hitting Nobara’s kart and allowing him to take first place. “Yes! Take that, Kugisaki!”

“This is why girls don’t like you!” Nobara shouts, shoving Yuuji hard enough that he falls off the couch.

The boy lands on the ground with an oof! but it doesn’t stop his focus from the race.

Sukuna watches the scene play out with his top lip curling in annoyance. As he rolls his eyes, he takes a seat on the arm of the couch next to Megumi. He can’t help but notice that the boy is in last place and after spinning out, immediately drives into a banana peel that he could have easily avoided. Sukuna snorts in amusement.

“Dude, you’re shit at this game,” he says, nudging Megumi’s shoulder with his elbow.

Megumi huffs, opening his mouth to reply, but his words are cut short temporarily as Nobara tries to kick Yuuji’s controller out of his hands. She cackles when she’s successful, only for Yuuji to grab her ankle and pull her down onto the floor with him.

Turning to look up at Sukuna, Megumi states with a deadpan expression, “This is why I don’t play.”

Raising an eyebrow, Sukuna looks over at Yuuji and Nobara who are simultaneously trying to race and knock away each other’s controllers. A grin spreads across Sukuna’s face and without thinking, he reaches down and grabs the controller from Megumi’s hands, their fingers brushing. Sukuna’s gaze briefly meets the other boy’s before he’s turning back to the TV.

With Yuuji and Nobara distracted trying to sabotage each other, it doesn’t take much for Sukuna to quickly catch up to the front, but not without adding a couple teasing jabs to Megumi’s poor choice of character and kart.

“Why on earth would you pick Baby Rosalina and the Badwagon?” he asks with an amused snort.

The younger boy shrugs. “I just hit the randomize button. I don’t care that much.”

“Obviously,” Sukuna retorts. He shoots Megumi a teasing grin.

Megumi rolls his eyes. “The only other time that I play this game is when Gojo forces me and Tsumiki to play with him."

Sukuna grimaces. “Sounds awful.”

“It’s not that bad. Gojo is just a sore loser so Tsumiki usually lets him win so we’re not stuck there all night.”

With a hum of acknowledgement, Sukuna briefly wonders if Megumi would be down to play with him, just the two of them. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea. The only thing would be convincing Yuuji to let him borrow the switch or getting Yuuji out of the house long enough for Megumi to even come over. Well, he supposes that’s something they can figure out after they’ve had their movie date.

“Yes! First place! As I should be!” Nobara exclaims as she finally finishes the race with Yuuji on her tail with a close second.

Yuuji scoffs. “Only because you knocked the controller out of my hand and made me fall off the side of the map.”

Rolling her eyes, Nobara waves a hand dismissively. She leans back against the couch and stretches her arms above her head. “You’re just a sore loser.” Her eyes flicker back to the screen and she sits up straighter. “Megumi coming in 4th place?! And here I thought you just liked losing."

“Whoa, how’d you get so good so fast?!” Yuuji asks with a laugh. He looks over, his head tilting to the side when he sees that there is no controller in Megumi’s hands. That’s when he notices that his brother never left and is instead sitting on the arm of the couch with the controller in his hands. “Hey! That’s cheating too!”

Nobara looks over with a frown as Sukuna is handing the controller back to Megumi. He pushes himself to his feet, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check his notifications.

“Thanks, Sukuna,” Megumi says, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Without thinking, Sukuna clicks his tongue and shoots Megumi a wink. “Any time.” He doesn’t bother sparing a glance to Yuuji as he turns around and heads out of the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom.

A long silence draws out in the living room, both Nobara and Yuuji staring at Megumi in a mixture of shock and confusion as Megumi watches Sukuna go. When he turns back to his friends, he shifts in his seat, growing a little uncomfortable. “What?”

“What was that?” Nobara asks, the game now forgotten with her full attention on Megumi.

“What was what?”

“That!” She gestures vaguely in Megumi’s direction. “With you and Sukuna. He was… nice to you.”

“So?” the other boy cocks an eyebrow. He leans forward and places the controller on the coffee table before sitting back. “Is Sukuna not allowed to be nice to people?”

“No,” both Nobara and Yuuji say simultaneously in the same deadpan tone.

Yuuji pushes himself up to his feet, setting his own controller on the coffee table. He turns to Megumi, hands settling on his hips. “He’s not even that nice to me and I’m his brother."

Megumi shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe he felt bad for me because you two were being insufferable.”

“Sukuna doesn’t feel bad for people,” Yuuji says with a shake of his head. “He’s the one who makes people feel bad.”

Again, Megumi shrugs. “He’s always been nice to me.” He gets to his feet and excuses himself to the bathroom.

Nobara and Yuuji watch as he leaves. The moment they hear the bathroom door shut, they’re both sitting on the couch and facing each other with wide eyes, ready to conspire.

“There’s something weird going on here,” Nobara whispers, tapping her chin with her finger.

“You’re telling me. The other day, Sukuna was making plans to invite someone over when I wasn’t here.” He pauses, looking around to make sure that they’re alone. He leans in a little closer, cupping one hand around the side of his mouth. “And even worse, there’s someone with a nickname in his phone.”

Nobara’s eyebrows shoot up, her eyes widening. “A nickname? What kind of nickname?"

“It said ‘Raisin Boy’.”

“What the hell does that mean?” she asks, her eyebrows instantly pulling together in confusion.

Yuuji shrugs and leans back. “I dunno.”

A look of determination settles over Nobara’s face. “Well whatever it is, we're getting to the bottom of it!”

Yuuji grins, matching Nobara’s determination with a high five. "Operation: 'Find out who Raisin Boy is' is now underway."

[3noa3]

Them leaving you in place

It's one of your only resting times and your least favorite. The other two being when you're not in the party or when the player leaves.

It's not like you hate taking a break or anything, archon knows you're not a workaholic like a few of your acquaintances.

Today the player invited a new friend into his world, low level and all that. After they afk a bit you move to comfort the scared Klee the other player had.

— More under the cut —

You sat stiffly on the chair as the player and her friend chatted among themselves.

The topic has long bored you and you resigned yourself to looking around the scenery of Mt. Aocong, or so you would if the other player's Klee didn't look so distraught.

You already met the Klee your player had but she mostly hung around the Knight of Favonius. The little kid had ample time and support so she got back on her feet after becoming self aware relatively fast but if your guess is right then this Klee probably didn't have the same luxury.

[Oh shoot! I forgot to cook rice!]

[Hahaha! You're dead!... oh wait i had to cook rice too.]

After you discreetly looked into their screen and made sure they left you stood up from the stone chair and approached co-op Klee.

She flinched and looked at you with fear before holding your hands up and showing her you mean no threat.

“Hey uh Klee, you probably don't know me but i know you. You're probably confused so feel free to ask anything.”

You spoke in an awkward albeit reassuring tone. She continues to look at you warily, archons you suck at dealing with kids.

Remembering a trick a Fontainian acquaintance once taught you you proceeded to pull out a mora.

“Here! Do you see this? It's a mora! Oh and where did it go? Right behind your ear.”

You felt tension leave your shoulder after her eyes brightened up with curiosity.

“Ohh ohh, how did you do that?”

She asked curiously as you make a shushing motion with a playful wink.

“Magicians secret, anyway how are you feeling?”

You ask while pulling out a juice from your inventory.

“Klee is a bit scared…”

She replies, looking down and twiddling with her fingers before brightening up as she happily takes the juice you gave her.

“Yeah it's… always scary the first time.”

You then went back to your seat and kept talking to her. She's actually quite nice to be around.

The small bundle of energy happily talked about her adventures, dodoco, and older brother Albedo. You didn't realize how much time had passed until Klee’s player entered the room, left the game and the co-op world ended.

You felt uneasy being left in silence once again but without your player closing the app you could do nothing but stand out in the open, doing some idle animations or dialogue every now and again.

Even when it rained. Even when a lightning struck you. Just standing in painstaking silence...

[szkunas]

SORRY, YOU LOST! ౨ৎㅤtoji fushiguro.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤokay, toji needs to admit it. you’re magical, or something because he genuinely intends to change for you, as stupid as that sounds. unfortunately, he decides to go out to gamble one last time. when he returns, his worst nightmare comes true.

featuring ♰ㅤREDEEMED toji fushigiro X fem!reader.

warnings ♱ㅤANGST ! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH ! no happy ending ! toji is a little ooc i guess ! BLOOD + DEATH ! assassination mentions ! violence + murder ! gambling addiction ! toji thinks about making you a housewife ! marriage mentions

author’s note ♱ㅤhi. im not dead, lol. just trying to post a lot of things together. i took a small time for myself, to rest, and now i think i can come back with writing with these posts and the event! <3 i hope you all like it, its my first time trying to write for toji

WHOEVER WAS THE IDIOT who invented pachinko, toji hates them deeply. it was probably some very bored and very greedy man. the world will become a better place when those tired, money-crazy expressions disappear. until then, pachinko machines and gambling games will squeeze every penny out of him. or not. no more.

there is a clear reason why some countries strongly prohibit betting shops and casinos: betting is one of the strongest addictions that runs through the sick and desperate, emptying them of their worries for a few seconds and taking the money from their wallets in exchange.

technically, gambling is prohibited both in japan and in many other places around the world: but pachinko, horse racing and speedboat racing, as well as casinos, exist through loopholes in the law. after all, everyone’s true god is money, and taking all of this off the market would shake the economy of the country that seems forgotten by any god in the eyes of toji.

he knows that spending a lot of money on bets is not the wisest decision to make, but he always has faith that he will win next time, when the next time never comes. however, he only has a percentage of his latest work. the rest was well sent where it would be safe: to you, who keeps the money safe and secure from a murderer addicted to gambling.

toji knows you want a lot. you want him to give up his life as the sorcerer killer, you want him to give up his stupid gambling habit, you want to settle down somewhere quiet and start a family. and he wants that too, even if his heart of stone doesn’t let him show it.

but, he hopes you understand that the mere fact that he lets you sleep next to him at night is a sign of trust. he trusts you not to open his throat with a knife while he sleeps, which says a lot about how he feels about you.

even though your relationship has lasted a long time by his standards, what scares toji is the fact that he doesn’t want to leave. he wants to stay, he wants to come back to you at the end of each mission. he wants to let you take care of his wounds, and he wants to dry your tears when you cry for him. in fact, he doesn’t even want you to cry unless it’s from happiness or pleasure.

which is strange.

he only knew love for one woman, and after her passing, he believed he would never again fall in love with anything other than the green notes that create his happiness and destroy his present simultaneously.

a dead wife and an abandoned child on his resume is not what any woman is looking for in a guy. his difficult personality, his history of lack of commitment, his disappearances for days and his addiction to gambling only make everything worse for him. women are drawn to toji like fish to a hook, but they don’t stay long. it lasts even less if they don’t have money or cut off this source of income from his life.

but when he hears the sounds and clicks of the surrounding machines, he can only think that he would stay with you even if you were living on an old mattress in a dark alley.

because love can be as intimidating as it is overwhelming. it can hit a man’s world with such force that it makes him rise from where he is. make him stop making bad choices and, little by little, improve to give you the life that the woman he loves wants. he looks at the nearest clock and sighs. one last game. one last time, he will spend some stupid change waiting for a prize that never comes.

and from there, who knows? and from there, who knows? stop this idiocy of gambling every last penny, work a little more so you can get by for a few months. maybe start a savings account so when you have kids things will be easier?

he waits, and stops. so many times he has seen the message of defeat on machines similar and different to this one. sorry, you lost. the most common phrase for someone who appreciates dopamine more than money in their pockets. but he is surprised when the winning pattern appears on the machine. a winning one.

toji immediately turns to an employee. okay, that was weird. he usually loses any and all bets. this is probably a sign that this is the right path. who knew, the advice of morally sensible people works. don’t use drugs (they don’t work in his system), don’t overindulge in alcohol (which also doesn’t do anything in his system), be responsible and have a stable job. he just needs to review what he achieves in that last part. sorcerer slaying is not exactly a stable job, which every wife dreams of having a husband working with.

wait, did he just mentally call you his wife? take it easy, clown. first, you have to get past your fifth dating anniversary.

but the idea is undeniably attractive. maybe if he gets some good, well-paying work beyond assassination, you can become a housewife. only if you want, of course. toji will drop dead before he forces you to do something you don’t want to do.

the idea is a little cute — really cute, actually. he loves seeing you coming home from work stressed. seeing you angry makes him strangely excited. it’s like getting turned on by playing with fire, and he just wants to make the flames burn hotter. however, he knows how to respect his space when things get serious. that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t want you in an office job.

reduced to a sad cubicle, an idiotic boss and customers as miserable as you, anxious for the time to leave or for him to pick you up. this is not the life he wants for you. okay, toji needs his own fucking car to pick you up from work. this goes on the list of what to start buying to have a responsible life.

as he changes the balls in the pachinko machine, he watches the prizes carefully. normally, it’s just junk that you sell in a random store to make real money. but there is a kind of golden pendant, a butterfly. he asks the employee and takes the item in his hands. he’s a bit of a muggle and extremely cheesy, in his vision, but it’s only fair that in his last bet, one of the few ones he wins, the prize goes to you.

you, the true angel that exists on earth. you, patient and caring, who accept his mistakes and didn’t abandon him when he gave you a thousand and one reasons to do so. you, who he would like to see at the altar and have children with. fixing his own life and making his life better, that’s what he must do now. for you.

waving to the employee who is already used to his presence — after all, toji doesn’t plan on seeing him again — he puts the pendant in his pocket and walks peacefully home, lost in thought. some idiot bumps into him in a hurry, but he’s so strangely happy he can’t even stay mad.

the guy in question looks like he’s on something, with his hands in his pockets as if he’s hiding a weapon and his pupils dilated. His paranoid face is looking in all directions, and Toji knows that look — he’s trying to run from trouble. probably fucked it up and attacked someone. toji shrugs.

well, it’s not his problem.

he just takes out his cell phone and presses the call button on your contact. toji wants to go directly home, but if you want some food or some other gift, he would like to know now. your profile picture is actually adorable, and he caught himself just a moment before smiling like a fool.

the nighttime streets of tokyo don’t stop as he presses the phone to his ear. cars go too fast, and night lights make the city seem more alive at night than in daylight. two rings, three. you don’t answer, and toji groans, checking the time before waiting a little longer. it is weird. usually you are the one who calls, or you are the one who answers almost immediately. and it’s too early, so you can’t be sleeping.

maybe you forgot your cell phone at home and went out to get something you forgot at the office. it would be just like you. he can already hear himself teasing you. airhead. he gives up calling when there is no answer after four tries. he doesn't want to look desperate.

his steps are lazy, light. he’s gotten used to walking quietly due to his line of work, but toji has his chest puffed out like someone who knows what he wants in life. this is a new and at the same time well-known occurrence. his second chance just fell into toji’s lap. not all men are that lucky. and he doesn’t intend to waste it, risk everything and lose everything again.

may his past have taught him the valuable lesson of staying close and protecting those you love.

that’s why, when he turns down the street and stops in front of your house (which has also been his house for almost two years), he freezes. there are some police cars parked in front of the door. okay, maybe some idiot tried to rob the house. are you okay? the idea of you getting hurt makes his blood boil.

but his heart sinks like a crushed animal when he sees the ambulance present. no. what the fuck is going on? he quickens his pace, not caring about the yellow tapes — oh, god, there shouldn’t be yellow ribbons. not here. not in your home, not in the safest and happiest place in the world. do not cross slaps him in the face, making his heartbeat increase. is that fear, in the back of his head?

he had goosebumps. not the good kind.

a police officer comes over to talk to him, explaining that he can’t be here, that this is a crime scene, sir. but toji is faster, his hand searching for the pendant he bought you through a stupid gambling game.

“sir, i’m going to have to ask you to leave—”

“this is my house, i live here with my girlfriend. what the fuck is going on?”

the police officer stops, as if he didn’t expect that kind of response. he checks something with another officer over the radio, and toji is about to punch everyone to go and look for you. what the hell is going on? he only left for three hours and about ten minutes. this shouldn’t be happening.

his green eyes stay focused on the ambulance, on the house that is being ransacked. your house, god, your wonderful house. he waits for you to come out from behind the ambulance, from one of the doors of the house, for you to come running and for him to hug you. but there is nothing like that. you don’t show up, and he suddenly feels like his throat is closing up.

the officer who owes him an explanation that keeps him calm and tells the truth at the same time — after all, a guy with the size of toji freaking out isn’t what anyone wants to face — gets his attention by gently clearing his throat. he looks like a newbie. excellent. you’re nowhere to be found, and toji is getting explanations from a damn newbie.

“you mentioned you live here with your girlfriend, sir—?” the man inquires, and toji crosses his arms, irritated. “can i ask where you were earlier tonight?”

“fushiguro. i’m fushiguro, yeah, and i live here for, two years now. i was out. buying stuff ‘nd all. why do you need to know?”

the officer sighs, his face sad. “you will need to make a statement later, mr. fushiguro. however, this doesn’t have to be immediately, we intend to respect your time with…”

“with?” toji grits his teeth, nearly snapping. “c’mon. i don’t have all night. where the hell is my girlfriend?”

there are some voices shouting instructions in the background, and toji doesn’t pay attention until something appears in the corner of his vision. he turns his face away more quickly than ever, giving the nervous policeman no time to warn him that he shouldn’t do that. and the sight before him makes him freeze.

the paramedics are zipping up a black bag and putting away the equipment they initially brought. toji is no stranger to blood and dead bodies—his body count is high in more ways than one—but he swears he’s never felt so sick. the butterfly pendant falls from his hands and clicks against the floor, with a slight *clink*.

it’s your body. they are putting your body inside a black bag. god, he only got a glimpse, a second, but he’s sure it’s you. pale, motionless. declared dead.

you, dead.

bile rises up his throat thinking about a million things. If he had arrived earlier, could he have helped? he definitely wouldn’t let that happen, what took him so long with the pachinko machine? Was this random, was this chosen? did they kill you because of him, because of him and his stupid career?

he wonders if you suffered. god, the thought of you scared and screaming as you fight to defend yourself makes toji almost go insane immediately. this is— real. and it is not a nightmare, where he’ll wake up besides you, on the bed. you would smile and comfort him out of his scared thoughts. but no. you won’t ever smile anymore.

never again.

he is so out of it for a moment, it’s as if nothing else exists. his ears won’t stop ringing, and it’s like his head is going to melt at any second. he turns to face the officer, who has been trying to get his attention for apparently five minutes.

“we’re sorry, mr. fushiguro. there was a complaint from the neighbors. we’re still not sure what happened, but it was certainly a homicide. maybe random. as it turned out, someone broke into the house and—”

“murdered my girlfriend.” he completes, his hands clenching into fists. toji excuses himself — and the poor officer can see the pain he’s trying to hide with anger.

he’ll probably get called out for a dozen things. identify your body. give a statement, be ruled out as a suspect, god. like he would even touch you like that. the idea is so disgusting he can’t even process it. but it does not matter. it does not matter anymore. his new, peaceful life? fuck that. you are dead.

and so is his heart. again.

toji walks away from the prying ears of the police, and he hates the fact that his hands are shaking as he calls shiu. and old friend and trustful dealer, he needs to ask two things.

“hey, shiu. when you hear this, give me a call as soon as you can. i am serious. i need another job, as quickly as possible, also.” he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, taking deep, angry breaths. “i need to ask a personal favor. investigate something for me, and i want the name and address of every person involved. alright?”

he wonders what will he use when he finds whoever did this. a gun? a knife? it doesn’t matter, nothing matters anymore. he steps on the butterfly pendant as he stares at the sky and wishes for blood to pay for yours being spilled.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. THANK YOU FOR READING <3

[yuri-is-online]

Hi! Congratulations again!? I feel like we celebrated 300 followers just a couple of weeks ago…

Can I ask for prompt 6 with Floyd, please?

Thank you in advance<3

6. Crowley has decided to put together a murder mystery for the whole ball and you've been the first one "killed." Whoever is playing detective seems really upset about that.

Annon I felt like that too I was really surprised we cleared 500 this fast (⊙_⊙) The last event ran from the end of July to the start of August so you really are not wrong.

Also as a note, if the other annon who requested this prompt for Floyd (along with Riddle and Idia) you are more than welcome to message me with either a replacement or a separate prompt for Floyd. I also have a request for this prompt with Jamil and Ace, so maybe not either of them, I am very sorry (;ﾞ°´ω°´)

notes: they/them used for Yuu, Floyd is swinging his mood as much as he is his fists. The other event requests can be found here.

There is a nigh demonic cackle hissing in a distant corner of the ballroom, it makes you want to ditch your mask and dancing shoes and sprint for the exit.

"As I was saying," Crowley tries again, looking in confusion down at the tiny card that apparently had sealed your fate as if he has maybe read it wrong "Yuu is our first victim tonight! Please see yourself up to the balco-"

"Who did it?" Floyd has somehow appeared just above your shoulder, mask tilted just off of his face. He had been sleeping, completely disinterested in the stupid game Crowley had thought up. It sounded really boring, and it still sort of does. But someone is moving in on his territory, and no, no, no. That simply will not do. You turn to look up at him, tiny shrimpy eyes wide with fright. (note: this is in fact delusion, Yuu is extremely confused, not terribly frightened by their untimely death.)

It's ok little shrimpy, he nods to himself. I'll squeeze whoever did this real good. (further note: this is not delusion, someone is very much about to get badly hurt.)

"Mr. Leech, unless you have the detective card-" Floyd doesn't even bother to respond, he just rolls his eyes and pulls the card out from somewhere. He bites it, keeping it safe between his teeth as he cracks each of his knuckles looking at each and every mask in the room. "Well I guess that settles it, um Mr Leech I trust you know this is a game and won't take things too seriously." Crowley is more than happy to abandon his students to yet another consequence of his own actions, shuffling off towards the gallery and you roll your eyes. Before you can follow suit Floyd catches your hand, his grip is strong, keeping you from really struggling or moving away much at all.

"Um Floyd? I'm dead, I'm supposed to be upstairs on the balcony." You know reasoning is a dead end with Floyd when he's in a mood but there "is no shame in trying" to quote a different eel who you are certain is not cackling somewhere in a corner at just how farcical this little play is turning out.

"Nah," he shakes his head "you're a ghost shrimpy now. And ghosts always stick around their husband's 'till the murder gets solved, 'kay?" It should be sweet, really. But there's this thing Floyd does with his voice when he really wants to hurt someone, "manic" is the best way you can describe the tone it takes, that makes you think if you really did die he would be quite quick to follow. Probably at the end of a hangman's noose. You sigh, doing your best impression of one of those TV dead wife's you bring Floyd's palm up to your cheek and dejectedly lay your head on it.

"My love," if logic won't snap him out of this maybe playing along can "will you be able to move on once you know who is responsible? I don't want you to-"

"Nah." He is more than happy to hold you though, spinning you around to face the audience as he drapes himself around you, chin resting on top of your head. "I'm gonna sacrifice whoever kill'd ya to bring you back." And with that lovely announcement of your impending revival, he singles in on a particularity terrified looking Heartslabyul random and smiles. "Ain't that right guppy? You wanna start runnin?"

"I'MSOSORRYHADNOIDEAITWASYOUOKTHANKSB-" The student vomits up his excuse and starts sprinting for the door, Floyd hot on his heels cackling with Riddle close behind, screaming at both of them for "breaking the rules of the game" but no one, least of all Crowley really seems to care.

"Considering all the ways this could of gone, I take this as a complete success!" You really hate how you can't say that he's wrong.

[igglemouse]

authors note: ignore the day, it's wednesday!

It's me again! Yep, still very pregnant and like usual craving pancakes as if my life depends on the. They are a good way to start a Wednesday morning, I guess they are a good way to start any morning. Stacked fluffy syrupy goodness!

As for my past well, life is all about moving forward, right? So let's do that. Not talking about my past and no dragging up my history with former and now very dead drug lords. Whatever happened in Selva stays in Selva and that's where I'd like to leave it.

Oh, you want to know if I feel guilty about it? Of course not. It was either me or him and as far as I'm concerned I've saved so many lives by eliminating that man from humanity. The world is better for it. Still...the blood...

"Wow, you are...scowling?" I remark in a somewhat tentative tone. It's rare to see Pascal's face twisted like this. Furrowed brows, dark eyes fixed on the plate as if it had wronged him, and without a word he's stuffing my glorious pancakes into his mouth. Not even savoring how perfectly made they were. It feels like he's just here to eat and nothing else but I can't help but ask; "Everything okay?"

His jaw tightens on a mouthful of food and I can see his adams apple drop as he swallows it as if he's a snake, ready to strike. "Did you see what they were saying about me last night?"

I blink. Of course I did not. As you know I do not follow fútbol. So I give my head a little shake. "No?"

This man kicks a ball for a living and I still do not get it. The world cares so much on every pass, every kick, every tackle, every card, and for me it is just a game. One he's going to make a lot of simoleons playing yet still. At least it brings me to the present and away from my past.

"On social media they-" he starts, still pissed, but I aim to cut him off before he gets going.

"Mi querido, you really can't worry about what others are saying about you, random people. Most of those guys probably wish they were you. None of it is true-"

"If you saw my recent games maybe you'd know some of it is true," after that he goes quiet and clearly wants the conversation to end so it does.

Since moving in with Pascal I've learned that when he is in a bad mood the best thing I can do is give him space and let him be. He likes to stew or better yet, he likes to work out his anger. Which is exactly what he does after breakfast but this time he's juggling the ball instead of taking it out on the now overused treadmill.

I spend some time cleaning the place since it's getting a little dirty and dusty and I do refuse to live in a dirty place!

So you could say my day was off to a so-so start. Nothing terrible but nothing amazing either. I expected the rest of the day to move along as usual and basically just be a buffer before the big day comes. You know, delivery day.

Unfortunately, it was not going to be a great day because the moment I opened my mailbox there was a letter addressed to me and letting me know that since I do not have a permit to operate my food stand in the park that I could no longer do so.

That's odd. It was pretty visible and no one stopped me then but I think we all know what this is about and who is behind this. Not sure there is much I can do. I could get a permit and open it back up but I really don't need this right now so consider the matter tabled.

But the day continues on, like it always does, indifferent to how I'm feeling and I'm feeling very hungry of course. I'm happy to dive into more pancakes and another meal as my mind is restless. Thinking and planning and worrying. She's close, I can feel it, she's just as restless, likely planning her own escape and I hope and pray to the watcher that she's ready for the world.

Across the table there is Pascal. Firmly seated and glued to his computer and his fingers tip tapping quickly on the keyboard. It sounds like he's replying and likely to a troll. I hope not. Word of advice, trolls live under the bridge and their entire goal is to stop you from crossing it. They are stuck there, under the bridge, hoping that you stop long enough so they can pull you off your path.

I scoot over to him, grabbing his attention with just my presence but his eyes are still locked on the screen so I clear my throat to take all of his attention. Once I have it I tell him about the situation with my food stand, the bad news and the uncertainty of what I will do moving forward. I'm thankful I have him because if I were still living alone I'd be in deep trouble. His response to it all is a little concerning.

"You're going to be a mother right?" He says, as if that just explains it. As if the rest of my life is so obvious now. "I doubt you'd have time for that thing any ways."

I am blinking at him and sitting up a little straighter and doing my best to take in what he's just said to me. "Time? It's not just 'that thing' to me, it's my passion!" Oh, my voice wavers a little, so I have to stop to make sure this doesn't turn into an argument. "Y-yes, you're right, I'll be a mama first, always, but that doesn't mean I can't do other things too."

Now it is his turn to look surprised, as if he would never suggest such a thing although he literally just did. "Oh, Frida, I didn't mean it like that," and for a moment I believe him to be innocent.

"Yeah," I begin again. Softer now, forgiving what I hope to be a slip up. "It's just...I was really enjoying it! It was mines. It was a testament to my drive and..." I stop and think about it. I could bring it back. Maybe one day I will but perhaps this is a sign too? "I think I'll start a SimTube channel. Martin can't take that away from me and-"

Pascal raises a brow and I realize this might be the first time he's heard of this plan of mine. "Oh? Why is that? Wouldn't that also take a lot of your time?" His tone isn't harsh or anything but the words still worry me. What is trying to say here?

"Y-yes," I stammer, quietly wondering if the question is innocent or if it should concern me. "But again, I don't want to be just a mother, you know? I still want to advance my career, my culinary career, you know?" I ask hoping he understands, giving him another chance.

"I just don't get it," he says but there is a soft edge to his tone now. This is something I didn't expect. Maybe the trolls have him frustrated? "I'm going to sign a new and bigger contract soon so you really don't have to work at all."

I think my heart skips a beat. He did just say that, right? Younger me wouldn't have had an issue with it. Oh no, not at all. The idea of some professional athlete picking me up off the streets and providing everything for me sounds nice. Sounds perfect. Oh and by younger me I mean me a year ago. Now? Well, now I know I can survive by myself. I appreciate he's going to be rich some day but still I want to me more than just his sidekick.

"Oh?" so my reply starts off snappy. "And what will I do with all that time?"

"I dunno?" he mutters in such a nonchalant way that it kind of ticks me off. "I just hear being a mom is a full time job so why have two? Just a suggestion, that's all."

But no, that's not all. I don't like his attitude towards this and so instead of letting the conversation get dropped I pick it up. "So you just want me here taking care of your children and home or-"

"Well Frida," Pascal is not bothered by my annoyed tone at all. "I'm going to be a world class athlete. Seems like its a privilege I'm offering," I'm about to say something because that feels almost like an insult to me. "It's not like that, I promise. Just saying! I think your first priority should be to our child and then the culinary stuff comes after, right?"

"Yeah..." I say glaring at him because he's right. A mother's first priority should be to her child, that is true, but isn't it true for the father as well? "I'm going to start a Simtube channel," I say with some determination.

He shrugs and smiles as if it makes no difference to him.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking. That red flag is so big that it could cover a field but...it's just words, in the end, and no one is perfect.

I'm going to have this baby soon, VERY soon, and I'm driven to give her something I've never had. A family.

[afyrian]

no. 7 - not so stormy night masterlist

    "it was a dark and stormy night-"

  "that's seriously how you're going to start your story?"

  "well yeah! it's a classic, all good horror stories happen on a dark and stormy night!" atsumu leans forward on his bench, a few of the boys leaning in as well, eager for the story to begin. 

  you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest. truthfully, you didn't know if you could do much better, but watching his smirk grow creates a pit in your stomach. "not true, a story can be creepy without a touch of stormy weather," you lean forward, staring atsumu right in the eyes. 

  maybe challenging him wasn't the best, especially when all he can do is smile at you. it's eerie under the fire light, like he's waiting for you to try to prove him wrong. try being the key word, "okay, so, how would you tell a scary story then?"

  as soon as the words left his mouth, sweat starts building up on your palms. you bite your lip, tapping your shoes against the ground, already feeling the pain of trying to mess with atsumu. "okay... well actually, there's an urban legend from this camp, if you don't remember," you cross your legs, leaning against them as you give a small smile.

  "long ago, when the camp was just a set of boy scouts and their leader, one of the boys were murdered just outside of the camp's property line. in fact, just past that tree line there, is where he was murdered," you point into the dark, staring out as your eyes clearly begin playing tricks, looking as if a figure were standing there. 

  "he wondered off in the dead of night by himself after hearing a ringing. it was sharp, like metal hitting metal, except he was the only one who could hear it. the other boys were sound asleep, and only awoke to his screams. now, every year, one boy or girl will hear that ringing noise. and every year, this story is told to prevent it from ever happening again," you lean forward behind the fire, a key to the main building in hand.

  very carefully, you begin tapping it against a metal water bottle you were holding, making sure to keep it close to yourself. immediately you could tell the kids were frightened, hearts racing as they begin to hear the metallic noise. "but it's all just an urban legend, or at least, that's what i've been told... i can tell another you like."

  "no thank you!" amaya immediately replies, some laughs coming out of her peers, "i'd rather not hear anymore."

  "well, if s'mores and a creepy tale are all you guys wanted to do, it's probably time for lights out. especially cause in the morning we have some games and activities for you guys," atsumu rests his hands on his knees, gaze flickering over at you.

  "yeah, and when getting ready, make sure you commit to the buddy system! and if you hear any metallic noises... make sure to stay with your buddy," you raise an eyebrow, staring out at the group as they quickly dissipate into their respective peers.

  you start to get up as well, knowing you may want to say hi to hitoka before the night ends. however, before you can even take a step away, atsumu is standing up with you as well, grabbing a bucket of water. "i stand corrected, i guess you don't need a stormy night to accomplish horror.. although your example did have a dark night," he mentions, dumping the water on the fire, listening to it sizzle out.

  the only other lighting around you are two small lanterns that you both brought along, "thank you, i appreciate the twisted apology that you somehow formed. let's just call it fifty-fifty then?"

  talking to him, especially after such an interesting evening, feels almost relaxing? never in your life would you believe yourself to feel relaxed while talking to atsumu. to laugh with him over s'mores (something he introduced to the group after a trip) and have a semi-regular conversation.

  "alright, that's acceptable... and yes, i apologize for doubting your story telling abilities," atsumu bows slightly, reaching his arms out like he's the main actor in a theater production. 

  "why thank you good sir!" you bow as well, laughing outwardly and instantly regretting it, "i- i should head back. check on the girls and make sure they're not entirely freaked out."

  his smile quickly lowers, hand reaching for his own lantern. you can tell that there's something in the air, a sense of enjoyment. however, you can't help but worry where that would lead you. finding yourself acting 'friendly' with atsumu could completely negate everything he did to you. did against you.

taglist (open): @lemurzsquad, @froyaoya, @localgaytrainwreck, @guitarstringed-scars, @girlkissersco a/n: hehehe i actually loved writing this

[ykiwrite]

kiss of death

desc: new years kiss and a death wish

words: ~1k

characters: wednesday x reader

*aged up characters

"Let's try on 3, yeah? One, two...three!"

The sound of fireworks being sent off flying hardened the loose grip you had on the cup in your hands.

Trying desperately to blink away the haziness out of your eyes, fearful you somehow missed the countdown until Bianca's voice reassured you.

"It's fine, not midnight yet. I promised i'd wake you up anyway."

Connecting the dots you realized you must have fallen asleep on her shoulder. Accompanied by a crackling fire that radiated warmth on this particularly cold, last day of December night, it's a no brainer why so.

By lying against the wooden bench in the Nevermore's green meadow, it granted the view of almost everyone's actions.

Some were drinking and eating while others were howling. Looking over to the side, some were ecstatic and others questioned how time passed by so quickly. Not much changed during the time you rested your eyes.

Seeing Enid being deeply infatuated with Ajax' storytelling made you wonder where did Wednesday disappear.

Next to you, Bianca muttered something under his breath before leaving the place you shared.

"Where are you going?"

"Your girlfriend has been staring at me for the past hour you've been sleeping." Pointing her head toward the place she was standing at. Eyes meeting hers, you found her with Yoko and most of the Nightshades occupying the drink booth. Odd.

"Besides i think it's safer for me to catch up with Kent over there. See you for like, less than an hour."

Watching her walk away left you alone with your thoughts for a minute at most. Wednesday was confidently marching over, prepared to steal a freed seat. It made you laugh knowing the whole time you slept on Bianca's shoulder her sanity was probably decaying from afar.

With your bodies bumping as she sat down, she handed you a bloody red liquid that filled the cup.

"What is this?" you questioned. Sniffing the liquid you could distinguish barely anything.

"It's specialty of Yoko's. We got it for free."

"Oh, so that's why you were with them."

"Yes, and she needed me for taxidermy tips."

You weren't going to ask further. Not that interested in the subject of dead animals.

Mirroring the two of you, Enid and Ajax didn't stop talking for one second. Except Enid who just got quieter, being focused on painting his nails black.

"I presume you got your well deserved rest." Studying her face, you could see the hint of envy. The idea of teasing her about it sounded perfect if it wasn't tossed aside by the view.

With your mouth hanging half open and ready to speak, you were rather hypnotized. Blame the still present drowsiness of sleep for this or whatever other reason unknown.

The fire she was staring at emphasized her entire complexion. Which was more than perfect. Of course, words do no justice compared to what you see in front of you. The game of shadows and orange light did wonders one doesn't witness every day.

"You're staring."

"Yeah...i am. Can i kiss you?"

Effort to pass by Wednesdays stubbornness did not work. Unamused she stated, "I'm afraid if you do i'm one step closer to transforming into my mother and father."

"That's not a bad thing."

"It is, they can't get enough of eachother it makes everyone nauseous."

"You just described us, word to word."

"No, that is just you."

Sinking deeper in the back with your figure using Wednesdays as support, together you watched and judged the New Years' preparations unfold. Nevermore was running around setting up the scene tirelessly.

"How much longer?"

"About fifteen minutes."

Ideal time for sentimentality to introduce itself. Remembering all of the memories this year so far made it difficult to not become emotional.

"Don't think about it too much. We're just one step closer to death, which is a relief." Said Wednesday, noticing a shift in you.

"I guess so. You know, when the day comes, i want us to share the sweet kiss of death side by side."

You trailed off, "If you accept the invitation."

As someone with no fears, your statement made Wednesday completely motionless. From her higher ground, she looked down upon you. Deciding it's not it, sliding lower to your level so she can meet you eye to eye.

Now she understood why you were staring from before.

"Gladly."

~

"Come on you two, less than five minutes- gosh, are you okay? What happened?" asked Enid when she saw your face that went through 7 life crises in a timespan of ten minutes.

"It's nothing. Your roommate picked the worst time to become the very image of her parents." You told her wiping away the remaining tears.

"Wednesday? I'm so sorry, i never knew she could be sappy. I can talk to her if you want?" Enid comforted you with an arm around your shoulders.

"No, no. I have to live through this. It's one time event."

Just like Enid was being led by Ajax's hand, you were by Wednesdays.

Choosing a spot to lean against a pillar that held Nevermore walls allowed you to see the final products that will go off in minutes.

"30 seconds guys!"

The crowd was still, waiting.

"10 seconds!"

The fireworks were being lit in advance. Doers running back just as fast as they come. Only numbers chanting could be heard.

You turned to look at Wednesday.

"3..."

"2..."

"1..."

With no steps needed to be taken, Wednesday took a leap and swiftly pulled you towards where lips met. It was too loud and too quiet. Too bright yet too dark.

Hands sneaked, holding the back of your neck that relocated to your face. Concept of it all left you clueless what to focus on.

The feeling was familiar, welcoming, safe like she carries you around in the palm of her hand with such fondness.

Overwhelming mix of everything happening besides your embrace made you pull away hesitantly. A smile escaping, closed eyes and foreheads bumping,

"Happy new year."

~

"It's gonna be a good year. I know it." Yoko said taking a sip of her drink while observing you from the side.

"Why so sure?"

"Look at them. Wednesday Addams shamelessly showing off PDA. We're not even half as bad as they are."

Divina nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

notes: as always, thank you so much for all the support! i wanted to close off this year with this one.

next one will most likely be about jenna because i can't stand her (i love her) and i hate writing about her (i'd give up anything for her)

[pepsiiwho]

The Hulkenberg Problem

Hi metaphor refantazio fans. It's me, your favorite contrarian eyesore. (Advertisers have made me change this opening greeting)

As I've played this game I've found myself enjoying every character, flaws in all (the more flaws the better truthfully) but theres one that for the life of me I just can't get behind. Somehow in a game with characters with single portraits, a few voice lines and little to no significant plot relevance, one of the first confidants you make does nothing for me. I guess I just wanted to air my grievances a bit here and offer hypothetical writing solutions as I see fit. This is an open discussion, somewhat, so feel free to respond to the points shared here, but I'll warn you I don't respond to name calling lmao

Spoilers for end game kinda <3

So, mmm. Where to start.

Blanket statement for this post; TLDR: Hulkenberg feels like the physical manifestation of every problem I have with the game on a thematic and structural level and I think in a tighter story that's more willing to interact with it's chosen subject matter, could make her to be a standout character above the rest.

As I see it, Hulkenberg's (Hulk) story is on its head, really interesting. She was the personal guard of the, at this point in the story, ever elusive and mysterious Prince figure cursed to wither away. We know nothing about the prince save for 3 things:

MC (Will) adores him, for some fucking reason. We're talking a loyalty so strong that he's willing to go on a, self proclaimed, suicide mission to reinstate him.

He's cursed and left in a comatose state that, seemingly, has no real cure and leaves him catatonic

The world thinks he's dead.

Now, obviously, once we've gotten to the end of the game we know that the points above are all defunct. But, in the beginning of the game that's all we know.

I can't speak for you, reader, but I had wondered: "why is he at the sanctuary? just for safety?" "Is his father not at all curious about his body and where it was?" "what happened the night of the curse exactly?" and this just floated around my head until we meet Hulk— the personal knight to the prince and, presumably, his closest aid just based on proximity.

I think a natural question, when you first hear Hulk's story and then compare it to your mission and Will's truth in this world is— why weren't you invited onto this mission?

You're telling me the prince's personal tutor and sword teacher got to know his location and status before his knight did ? That doesn't make sense at all.

Okay so now more questions pop up from this silent implication: "was Hulk just incredibly inept?" Well, maybe. But when she reunites with the other members of the princes's team they assure her she was a wonderful aid. so, probably not?

"Had she shown herself to be too incapable of protecting the prince to join?" well if that's true Grius shouldn't have made the cut either. He failed to protect the prince just as surely as Hulk did.

"it was a quick thing, they couldn't bring everyone or it would raise suspicion" sure, this is the most reasonable option, I guess, but again— how did gruis make the cut then if it was only a few people allowed? I can't imagine he was a more useful team member than Hulk. She was his assigned knight! Ordained and everything! Would Hulk have raised too many flags? If so why not recruit her once everything had died down a bit. Hell, she goes off and throws herself into finding the prince and/or his killers for years apparently and no one batted an eye. They couldn't have reached out in that time?

But this is good! this is great actually. Already, without saying a word we the audience are told 'She wasn't picked.' And we're left to sit on that.

Where I think the game stumbles after this is shooting their resident elf girl in the back by giving her 'anime woe' disease, as I've coined, which is the disorder when you have (1) thing that's happened to you and you harp on it— tirelessly.

You've probably seen this a lot, it's everywhere in Japanese fiction (or at least the contemporary stuff that blows up into an international and online audience).

In Hulk, it shows itself through every other word being about her grief and failure, failure to the prince and the crown and the people for letting things get this bad. She isn't special here, Strohl and Heismay have the same problem (parents dead and son dead respectively) and its... grating, in them too, but I can't fully articulate why Hulk feels so offensively boring in comparison. If I were to try, I think compared to the grief of loosing someone irreversibly whom you loved (a parent or child), Hulk only loses her charge. Which she thought to be her duty of course, but this listlessness does nothing for her character.

Heismay, in his grief, becomes a recluse and racist who wants nothing to do with he world that scorned him, stole his son and tramples on the effort he did for the crown and common folk alike. He's aged with this grief and it's soured him even though he seems, generally, affable. Strohl is harder to place just because he was so young when it happened, so his grief has just fundamentally formed him as a person, but you see his behavior is shaped around this grief inside him. It's the core. He's impulsive and unable to sit aside for second chances, instead preferring to, say, run into the fire and do what he can. These two have been changed by their pain, irreversibly.

In comparison... Hulk is just... moping. She has, seemingly, changed very little since her time working for the prince. She's still happy and loves food, still serious but has a goofy side around those she respects and still speaks highly of the crown. Sure she could have changed from before, maybe she's less serious now but that doesn't make sense. It feels very one note. you complain endlessly about this failure, this loss that changed you and left you adrift, but really how lost are you? You're horribly casual during this journey. You, who wants the prince alive more then anyone on this damn ship— save will— are gallivanting around and partaking in local delicacies long enough to be distracted. It sends mixed messages.

Not to play trauma Olympics, but if you told Heismay that waiting at the end of this journey is his son, alive and well, I can't imagine he'd be enjoying any moment of leisure. Same of Strohl.

Right okay so what the fuck ever she's an inconsistent character. so what? that's why you hate her?

Well, kinda? More then anything I hate her eyes, but that's neither here nor there— 

but lets get into the fix. So on my YT channel I've talked about my problems with the game and fixes I wanna make, and here's another:

We need to rework her. Here's my pitch.

Hulkenberg is the oldest daughter of some dukedom, somewhere, and in the kingdom's employ as the prince's aid and personal knight. Though she is strong, she is haughty and sees the work to be her destiny and as such grows lax and unappreciative of what she's doing. She's a bold foodie who enjoys music and dancing more than weaponry and the job is a bit tiresome. But she is devout to the crown and her family are sanctists to their core. So her allegiance, at least outwardly, is less for the prince, and more for the institution itself.

fight happens, its a shit show. The prince is cursed and 'dies' on her watch. Because of this she is ousted from the royal guard and stripped of her titles, seen as a failure for her inability to save the prince. Wanting to prove herself, she goes on this journey to find the prince and fix her mistake, to repent for her failure that has haunted her since it happened.

What this new backstory does is:

1) explains why she wasn't taken along. This version of hulk is too tied to the church and powers that be to just disappear and never seemed to have much affection for the prince past pleasantries. It's too big a gamble to let her in the sanctuary, so less capable parties have to follow in her stead.

2) This would explain why she's left to her own devices. She's too important to her family to just be murdered outright and too strong to be assonated either, so covert options are out. Stripping her of her importance and ostracizing her from the life she knew keeps her quiet. this hulk is seen as a loose thread that needs to be cut, lest she grow discontent and cause fuss.

3) It allows for her to change from the more care-free version we'd learn she was. This failure stripped her of everything and now she's a husk of herself. But she can get it all back if she can get the prince back. Make up for her failure.

In this version of the story you'd get glimpses of who she used to be, brief flashes of the cute young woman who was left behind with the prince's corpse. Maybe not great waifu bait, but it's more fun so sue me.

I also need her to be a racist.

But, that's for the next post. This ones already way too long. If u want more my ask box is always open. mwah

Hope you enjoyed <3

[katyspersonal]

Midra for the ask meme :3

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

Thaaaat guy! God, this makes me sad to think about.. in a good sense. And nostalgic. I want to erase SOTE from my memory just to experience the emotions I first had when I've found Abyssal Woods and this guy.

Favorite thing about them:

He is a NERD! He lives up to his title as 'sage'! His Manse is 90% library and other like 10% is actual living area fhdhds It is SO many books everywhere!

You KNOW that it was not simply a storage. He DID read every single book he had. I don't know, like... every room is full of book shelves and piles of books. It is impressive.

Not only that, but also the whole Manse has the narrative of messing with the Insight not meant for humans (or anyone, for that matter). There were records of forbidden knowledge everywhere, no wonder Inquisitors decided to burn it all down, for everyone's sake!

I love that he is really wise and educated, but ALSO a madman! And a more sympathetic kind of than, say, Micolash! He KNOWS he fucked up, and maybe he hoped he could've made Frenzied Flame work. He and his people suffered from religion-driven oppression long enough. Why would not he turn to the force that can take away "every sin and affliction"? Why not wish to "destroy all that divides and distinguishes"? This is a super good example of 'good intentions road to Hell' thing, and told so well through environment and buildup alone, too! god.

Least favorite thing about them:

This one actually makes me sad... It is hard to explain, but it is how 'limiting' his story is. Or rather, 'self-contained'.

When I first discovered the Woods, his manse and himself, I was ECSTATIC. You all probably remember my reaction, and how I could not shut up about both him and his lore! And Nanaya and his followers! I've had the Elden Ring loredigging of my LIFE. I remember how much emotions and joy of discovery I had like it was yesterday. I was super thrilled to figure out what happened, and wrote this ( x ) post. And then.....

Yeah, you see, it isn't anything new for Soulsborne games to have the player to find a character at the VERY end of their story. They are already dead when we arrive, we just make it official with our battle. However, most of the characters can be easily extracted from this fate in our imagination! You can imagine that they live anyway. You can slightly tweak the timeline events so it is not that bad. You can play with their past enough, you can pit them to interact with other characters with ease, you can play with AUs...

Midra feels different. He is very strongly 'locked' onto his fate. He is very contained within his manse, his story is limited to Inquisitors, Horsent servants and his family. And Frenzied Flame.. *sigh* "Saving" him from his fate is not something ordinary. Or, maybe, MY EYES ARE YET TO OPEN and I just haven't found the right way yet?

He feels just as isolated from the rest of the story and cast as Hornsent Inquisitors wanted him to be, and I can't explain why! I just.. dread the fact that there is not much for me left to discuss about him besides piecing together the story of him and his manse. All creativity is resorted to detalizing his past, but Frenzied Flame is not your ordinary Soulsborne death.. It is ultra super hyper extra uber nihilism. Once it touches you, you are merely winning extra time, body and mind, but not in the way Scarlet Rot does it. I'd need to dial toooooooOOOO far back to get him and Nanaya out of that and let them hang out with the rest of the cast! I guess I just need to "accept" it. I accepted Melina canonically annihilating herself, I can do this too, I guess. Just not yet. Separating him from Frenzied Flame just feels like amputating too much, you know? Yet that darn thing doesn't leave any hope or life... He is just too doomed even for Soulsborne characters standards, unless too much is reversed. I am very fixated on future and possibilities, in the way my mind works. @velvet-apricots is absolutely THE best person when it comes to detalizing his and Nanaya's past, it feels so alive!

Favorite line:

"I have endured... more than enough...". It is both really haunting AND got meme'd by me into infinity, sorry fdhfdhs It has the same energy as 'The night, and the hunt, were long...' except in a more fucked up context. Likewise, Midra is about to be released from torture of endless internal fight that everyone is doomed to loose, but it won't be sweet embrace of death just for him. It will be this for virtually everyone, if he is not stopped! And there is no way he doesn't know... Just imagine how much torment he went through, and for how long, to finally no longer be able to hold it back EVEN for the sake of every living being.

brOTP:

I do sometimes like to imagine him getting along with other nerds or sages/witches, as well as to dial back all the way into shared link between Midra's Manse and Shaman Village! He is intelligent just enough to be an easy target for crazy ideas, but also has a lot of heart... So, he is not on Sellen tier, but also not on Carians tier, but somewhere between. I think he and Nanaya should visit Ymir's palace somewhere in the timeline where Midra didn't mess with Frenzied Flame. :') Ymir is likewise a madman with both a big brain AND a big heart, but could have offered a softer perspective than fucking with the literal essence of non-existence.

Also, being friends with Madding Hand unironically works xD

Choice of Gravebird set is odd, but it connected in my brain that maybe he used to be a gravekeeper at Manse before! (Whether he used to wear something more modest or not is a question for another day fdhfdsh) I would expect someone like this be the second best person for Midra to talk to after Nanaya. Someone adjusted to very depressing and dark conversations, not being worn down by them nor trying to uplift Midra's spirit when he just wanted to rot a bit fdhfd Definitely see him as a favourite servant.

There is also the fact that he is the only one who survived Inquisitors barging in and executing everyone (except for Nanaya and technically Midra himself)! It is a question how, but prefer to imagine that he had the chance to leave and use the gift having lived, to try and put it behind him... but he did not, and chose to stay in the Abyssal Woods, he chose to make him living a problem of every Inquisitor he can hunt down. Because he just valued Midra and his service to him too much.

OTP:

He is literally married! xD There is no really anyone to ship him with besides Nanaya! I feel like any other person who gets considered would just be the third one in their bed at most fdhfhsd (doesn't sound bad actually but you see what I mean)

I have my vision of her reaction and attitude to the whole FF business, and at this rate they're dangerously close to having divorced energy. But even then, his loyalty and guilt before her is the ONE thing that has been keeping him from giving into FF, and I am sure she still loves him too no matter how hurt she was. I wrote a FULL ask meme about their ship ( x ) and I was surprised by how natural it was flowing? They are writing themselves and I don't know how or why!!! It is very hard to imagine them without one another. I kind of see their love as something that allowed both of their souls to truly bloom, otherwise they'd be more bitter, unfulfilled husks living regretful lives that'd feel like they were just wasted.

nOTP:

It is hard to imagine any other ship with him to BEGIN with, let alone something I would not like. xD But I feel like even if some crack ship (for example the crossover between Soulsborne games or a far-distanced AU) took off, I'd find it funny rather than frustrating! It'd just feel like a joke, so why get angry? (but like I said, in the end you just add third person in the bed, nothing more x) )

Random headcanon:

Midra does not like to admit it, but he can and will be somewhat selective regarding what he likes to learn! He might even disregard certain fields of "science" if they do not interest him or do not seem legit or in depth enough! Again, similarly to how Ymir declared the Moon "just the closest celestial object, nothing more". xD

Except, like I said, Midra would not like to be like this, and certainly not before people who are interested in the topic! He holds himself to a very high standard as a sage, and knows he must accumulate various knowledge and give change to everything. He must NOT be selective. Arguing with how his focus works though is hard, and Nanaya is the one who notices whether he is bored or even irritated with something! She knows that 'just be yourself dude your IQ is already like over 500 💀' won't work on him nor she'd try to do that! So she lets him to both complain and finds a way to make the topic that bores him more interesting to invest into! He could never be Gideon fdhsfdhs

Unpopular opinion:

Is this character popular enough to have UNpopular opinions? xD I suppose, maybe my vision of him and Lord of Frenzied Flame state? I basically see them as different characters. Even more separated than, say, Malenia vs Goddess of Rot or Godwyn vs Prince of Death! It is due to assimilative nature of Frenzied Flame... It is hard to explain. I see Lord of Frenzied Flame as something that needs a vessel to manifest, rather than being borne of this vessel! Tarnished as Lord of Frenzied Flame is like 95% the same being as Midra as Lord of Frenzied Flame imo. :p

Well, FF is the force opposite of disparity, so, sure. Though, Lor would copy manneurisms and visceral remains of its vessel while the world lasts! It would not dance so magnificently had Midra not secretly been a good dancer himself. Nobody just ever knew, not even himself sfhhd

Song I associate with them:

I'll have a couple!

For some reason, the 'I will survive' here was feeling to me more like a warning of sorts... so, after Midra, it clicked to me! It gives me this sense of dread he has knowing he is now an enemy of existence itself, sooner or later.

(Turn on subtitles on Youtube, it does have translation, just coded in subs!) Not quite Midra as himself! Rather, just unifying effect of Frenzied Flame itself... so, Lord of Frenzied Flame? But hey, when else I will have the chance to share this one?

Favorite picture of them:

I can't find a really cursed image of him that cracked me up, trust me I looked, so have this funi meme instead xD

( x )

[sonadow4life]

Ok so I'm working on a little fic thing (first one ever yippee!). Heads up I'm really bad at wrighting ESPECIALLY when it comes to complex characters like Shadow. Anyways I would love some feed back. Don't go expecting too much when you read it. It's supposed to be set after Sonic 3. I also don't have a name for it yet. Or a plan. I just started wrighting and was like "yep, this is ok, I'm totally gonna finish this" so I have no clue where it's going. I'll get there when I get there I guess. It follows the storyline of SA2 but also I haven't finished that game so I don't know much about it lol. I think I might just make this story all about Shadows life after what I imagine Sonic 3 to be. Just think of the story line of SA2 but he doesn’t fall and die. He does fall. Doesn’t die. Also imagine it being a bunch of 15 yr olds. Just typical Sonic movie stuff. Tom and Maddie thrown in there where you can. I really can’t explain how I imagine it. It can’t be translated into words lol.

It was dead silent in the house aside from the annoyingly loud tik…tik…tik coming from the clock. Shadow lays wide awake on the Wachowskis couch. Mr and Mrs Wachowski had insisted he stay with them, just until he could find some place to stay. He had tried to refuse, especially after all the trouble he’d caused trying to destroy the planet, and while they seemed a bit hesitant, they persisted and continued to insist he stay with them for a while. Shadow looks over to the clock on the wall, the time reading 3:45 am. Shadow never tends to get much sleep, plagued with foggy memories of the ARK. The image of his sister's pale body lying lifelessly in a pool of her own blood replaying every time he closed his eyes, probably the only thing he could remember in full detail unfortunately. He runs his ungloved hands down his face, letting out a small, quiet whine and trying not to think about it much. Trying not to think at all. 

Tails and Sonic were upstairs in their shared room, Knuckles having been moved down to the basement for everyone’s sake, his footsteps being far too heavy to be walking around at 2:00 am. Sonic and Shadow didn't exactly get along well. They could tolerate each other at best and get it a full blown fist fight at worst. Shadow didn’t necessarily dislike Sonic, as much as he tried to pretend he did at least, but he definitely didn't like him. Totally. Shadow was soon pulled out of his thoughts by a loud creak from the steps, followed by a quiet mumble that he recognised as his rival's voice. Shadow peaked over the back of the couch, making eye contact with a very drowsy looking Sonic. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean ta’ wake ya’..” Sonic slurs lowly, walking the rest of the way down the stairs towards the kitchen.

“You didn’t.” Shadow says simply, laying back down on his side and staring aimlessly at the turned off TV. It was silent for a while before Shadow heard a glass clacking against the counter and a sink turning on, presumably Sonic getting a drink. Shadow shifted a bit, trying to find a comfortable enough position to attempt sleeping. 

[onegirllis]

So, about the new LIS trailer

It took me some time, but forgive me for the delayed response. I had to dig myself out of the fandom grave to actually look around and notice what the hell was going on. I spent another moment pondering if I still care, and with the answer "barely," I came here to write this post.

1) For whatever reason DickNein (yes, I didn't miss the scandal, who is the nazi now?) still doesn't understand what made LIS 1 so successful. It wasn't the diversity; it wasn't the same copy-paste lines; it wasn't the murder; it wasn't the superheroes from small towns with different powers. It wasn't even the lesbians (I know, shocking!). There were merely a few elements that made LIS special: - Magical Arcadia Bay with its residents - The rewind time superpower, which was one of the best mechanics in narrative games since the genre was born - Max, Chloe, and Rachel (not necessarily in that order), and you need at least two to make it work, preferably with Chloe at least somewhere there. - the specific art style and saturated colors (butchered a bit in BTS but then going full SIMS 4 for the rest of the games) - and most importantly - the soul Sure, DontNod could get away with alteration, to no fanfare and sometimes to no success, but their experiments came from the right place. This shit ain't it.

2) For whatever reason, Chloe is now a dog. I know. I know. I understand. Listen, my fellow comrades, I know how it feels when the devs pull put shit like, "Oh, they were just friends and grew apart, but now she named her squirrel after the love of her high school life".

3) Max had plastic surgery. She also decided to be entirely anonymous so that she looked like everyone else. Every model looks the same, and I hope they will have their names spelled above them as they walk around. Otherwise, I have no idea who is who. Frankly, she looks a little bit like Steph had a lot of fun with the entire cast of Sims 4 and then had a baby.

4) On top of everything, the new Max, however, probably now goes as Maxine, is teaching her Polaroid skills at a university. Now we know we are in an alternative universe all along. I hope the tuition matches the useful photography skill set you obtain there.

5) For any other reason unknown, she can dress up as Chloe, who can be dead (see the Ultimate edition). I know Max has a long tradition of dressing up as dead people, but I hoped it would go away with her Botox and other plastic corrections. But hey, we survived Chloe dressing up as Rachel and cosplaying as her dad, too, so I guess I shouldn't even be surprised. Not that it's a low-budget movie, and they have a limited wardrobe. It's a video game, but the tradition of having a mental stroke is still strong.

6) Oh no, another murder I gotta solve! I shall use my powers. Why now? Is it another girlfriend who is into printing photos? Or is it her student? Or both? Max becoming Jefferson would be a nice twist, even if not loved among the community, but I don't think it would get anywhere that dark. It just will get stupid.

7) This is supposed to be a fanservice a little too late and on the wrong foot. I know y'all missed Max. I didn't, but I understand the hype on seeing her on the screen. Although following a teenager in Arcadia Bay was interesting, simply by the shot of nostalgia with every step, here we are following a middle-aged single art teacher (or someone who looks middle-aged to the point that they decided on fixing their face). NO ONE WANTS TO FOLLOW THEIR ART TEACHERS WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

8) The Nazi problem (well, well, well, the turntables). I know DeckNein had to do some cleanup among their staff. I hope they did, but somehow, I doubt it was done for the right purpose. Therefore, I'm uncomfortable giving them any of my money, now or ever. I know, there are worse studios. I know it's stupid, but LIS was always special, filled with this little genuine spark. It just doesn't feel right.

9) The game has the worst UI in the history of modern gaming.

10) And to finish my rant on something even worse, LIS4 is coming just before DontNod's new game, most likely to compete with it on the market. A bit sus, don't you think?

Anyway, dick move, my friends. All of it. Actually, waving dicks around in the air all along. Despite our differences, this ain't right. And God knows how much worse it could be.

[lockpickingliar]

Ouma Kokichi (Cookie) on The Hospital

Nine days ago, I was finally discharged from the hospital. Graduated to in-home palliative care, since my DOA symptoms have slowly reduced enough that I could sit up on my own at times, stomach light solid foods, breathe without assistance for the most part.

I was so scared at first. That's a lie. I didn't really think it was something that would ever happen, though. In the beginning, I had no intention of recovering and enjoying my afterlife. I brought this death on myself. I fully intended to atone for everything I had done. For all the people that died on my watch, for the three people—or I guess, two people—that I directly led to their deaths. The people that I killed, either by negligence or direct involvement.

Do you think I'm lying?

But then there I was, settled into an apartment with Ran-chan. Everyone worked so hard to help me to get there. I still have so many medicines to take, little machines and whatnot on hand in case my lungs start acting up, a wheelchair just to go from one room to another. Still, I was out. DICE threw me the biggest party they could, too. A whole shebang with fireworks and everything, partly to celebrate the end of summer, and partly to celebrate this milestone in my recovery.

It feels like a lie, now.

I'm back at square one. Back in that damn hospital room. None of my organs are cooperating, my head is so hazy it's hard to even write this post, and all I can think about is how I failed.

They're dead because of me.

Because I couldn't lead them well enough.

Maybe that discharge was a false hope. Who am I kidding? I don't deserve this. Freedom. A happy afterlife. Not after everything that happened. Everything I did. Everyone I hurt.

I want to die under that press once for every person who died on my watch.

But I'm lying again.

I might deserve it, though.

I wonder if Saihara-chan thinks I deserve it.

This all started because I found out more about him, and what happened after I got here.

Turns out in my universe, my plan actually worked. Crazy, right? I guess the one little detail of me keeping my clothes instead of flushing them like in canon made a major difference. Or maybe Momota-chan did a better job of pulling his weight.

That's probably it.

I'm just glad he pulled it off and broke the system. Ended the killing game. Didn't have to be executed. He still died from his illness, but I can at least rest easy that his death doesn't fall on my laundry list of responsibility.

That's a lie.

If I'd done a better job leading, we might've gotten out sooner, and he might've been able to get to a doctor and live.

I don't feel responsible for anyone's deaths. I did what I had to do to survive...

But that left me alone.

And to Saihara, I always would be.

He meant that. He meant every word. I don't hate him for it, though. I hate him. I could never hate him for being right. I hate him. How could he have thought any other way? I hate him.

Even after I died, nothing changed about how he viewed me. It makes sense, since my plan worked, he never had to go into my room. It's not like he even could, since my room key was with me when I died. If he cared enough, I figured he'd have to find a way in himself. To prove how much he cared. I refused to just give him the answers so easily, after all the work I put in.

He never saw any of that work, though, so it doesn't matter.

They want to bring him here. They want to make him understand. I'm not sure if there's anything for him to understand. I want to talk to him. To make sure Team Danganronpa is gone for good, and if not, to make sure it's burnt to cinders. That's a lie. I want him to move on with his life. I don't want him to be haunted by the past.

I should really stop lying so much. I don't even know where I was going with this.

I wanted my post about my discharge to be happy, y'know. To talk about how grateful I was to everyone in DICE for helping me see hope again. I never meant for this to happen. I wanted to keep getting better for them. Maybe this was bound to happen, though.

This hospital room is just where I'm meant to be for eternity, suffering to make up for everyone I failed.

[howlingmoonrise]

tagged by the fantastic @sunriseverse! thanks sunny!! 💖

under the cut because this one is long

1. why did you choose your url?

i wanted a new fandom penname and at the time adjective + noun names were a thing. i fiddled with several different variations, tried and failed to acquire kaleidoscopicmoonrise at the time (it's mine now!!), and landed on this one. i wanted something a little spooky, especially since soul eater was my fandom at the time - though it doesn't feel like it now that my icon is a lot more sane-looking lmfao

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them.

uh. yeah. a stupid amount (like 30+?), so i'm definitely not naming them all. most active are obviously this howl blog, my main blog @commandersya, this one for danny phantom and gravity falls stuff, @howlingspacegoo gets some activity every now and then when venom stuff resurfaces, and some others i use for reblogging specific reference stuff. most of the rest are for fandom events i've run in the past.

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

since like 2011-2012. i've seen it all.

4. do you have a queue tag?

lmao absolutely not. i don't use the queue function, though on occasion i'll schedule posts to space them out when i'm going through a tag in order not to reblog all of it at once, or for specific dates like halloween

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

this one was for soul eater writing purposes. tumblr in general was because my cousin dragged me into it and then i realized there was a lot of bandom stuff in here (i was really into black veil brides for my first year or two on tumblr)

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

i broke ties with the soul eater fandom in a not great way and wanted to change my icon. yoi provided the perfect yuri expression with the kind of benevolent dictator smile i really like, despite that not being the original intent for it when the animators drew it ✊😔

7. why did you choose your header?

i had to check my header real quick lmfao. jason todd is just an excellent blorbo and when a good artist draws him.... 👀👀👀

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

oh gods. probably my dracula/barbie fic at nearly 3.5k notes. where's that ben affleck cigarrette pic when you need it. alternatively some ancient black veil brides photo/gif on my main blog.

9. how many mutuals do you have?

idk but i cherish y'all 💖

10. how many followers do you have?

dunno 😭 they're split across dozens of blogs so i'm not counting them all

11. how many people do you follow?

1.8k+, though i should follow more. my dash has times when it's pretty dead.

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

probably? yes. just remembered the i bit the butte psoh post.

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

however long i'm online on my laptop, more or less. so a sizeable amount of hours

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

LMAO. i was in both voltron and yoi fandoms, writing for and running events for "problematic" ships. take a wild wild guess.

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

hate them. 90% of the time it'll make me automatically skip it. for the other 10%, if it has relevant info on the op's original post and that little sentence is on the comments then i might go back and reblog from the op just to get rid of it

16. do you like tag games?

love them!

17. do you like ask games?

see above

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i have uhhh. some. olderthannetfic, nemainofthewater, i think also colubrina for a while there, off the top of my head.

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

if friend crushes count then several ✊😔

20. what is the last song you listened to?

the cramps - goo goo muck

21. what are you currently watching?

i am. so bad at finishing things so like a bajillion shows. the double i might drop despite it having been very very good until like episode 30-something. meet you at the blossom i need to finish like the last two eps. wandee goodday i need to finish four episodes iirc. i was in like episode 5 of century of love. i was on episode... 17? of my journey to you, which if i power through shall be for the antagonist sidepair/trio rather than the main characters. i was also at episode 16 of new life begins, which was fairly good and i do want to continue though i keep forgetting i have that tab open somewhere.

22. sweet/ savoury/ spicy?

savoury!

23. what is your current relationship status?

single and ace so not planning on changing that!

24. what is your current obsession?

the spirealm/kaleidoscope of death, and mysterious lotus casebook

25. what are nine albums/ songs you've been listening to lately?

- La P'tite Fumée - Cypher - Brody Dale - Don't Mess With Me - Stiff Little Fingers - Alternative Ulster - Concrete Blonde - Bloodletting (The Vampire Song) - The Cramps - What's Inside a Girl - Linkin Park - Heavy is the Crown - Miyavi & PVRIS - Snakes - D-A-D - Sleeping My Day Away - Aerosmith - Dream On

no-pressure tagging! @junemermaid @a-memory-a-distant-echo @snorlaxlovesme @where-the-water-flows @nemainofthewater

[apex-academy]

Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#20)

“......”

I’m not sure how long he stands there with the rest of us closing in. His gaze flits from person to person, like he’s searching for his master’s approval—or just afraid we’re gonna mob him. As if that’s ever been an option.

“Um, well, if it’s that belated, I might have to check to see if it’s really necessary.”

“The rules don’t have a timeframe, you know...! M-maybe I can open the investigation in a couple of months?”

“MONTHS?! How many MORE of us will be DEAD by then?!”

“Um, none, ‘cuz we’re totally not staying that long.”

She takes one big stomp towards Monochap.

“Just call the stupid body discovery already!”

“U-uwah! But...”

We’ve got him right here. Right at the edge. And with his master right in front of everyone else, there’s not much they can instruct him to do. If this comes down to his interpretation of the rules, he can judge it just about any way he wants. Even if that means pushing the mastermind investigation far past the point any of us would still be standing.

But if it’s up to his own judgment, I know exactly how to handle this. He’s our chaperone—his whole purpose is to make sure we’re playing the game that we’re supposed to be playing.

But, intentional or not, there’s more to him than that single purpose. And that’s what I can easily target.

I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this... But if it can tip the scales, I’ll do whatever I have to.

Several of the others are still clamoring over each other, so I slap my hands together in a sharp clap that startles at least some of them out of it. Enough for me to be heard.

“Monochap.”

“Um, yes?”

“Call the body discovery and start the investigation now. If you do that...”

“I’ll call you my waifu!”

“Gaspu!”

“....”

“....”

Yeah, okay. My trump card is ridiculous. But what here hasn’t been?

“R... Really?”

“Really.”

“Nothing more waifu-worthy than helping your—”

What the heck is the other half of that relationship called? Husbando? Also waifu in my case? 

Master?? O... Otaku???

“—someone who needs what only you can provide.”

“..........”

“Like, yeah, okay.”

“Bring the dude responsible for this crap to justice ‘r whatever, and you can totally be my waifu, too.”

“!!”

“Like, sad little binch waifu, but. Waifu.”

Well, it sounded helpful at first.

“I can also accept these terms, I believe.”

“If I’m, er, understanding the situation correctly...”

“It doesn’t obligate you to marry him if that’s what you mean.” I hope?? “More of a title than anything, I guess?”

“Titles I can handle.”

“I hope you lot don’t expect me to endorse your absurd little christening.”

“As though the holy one herself would designate such honor upon an abomination.”

Yeah, I wouldn’t have expected different.

“I don’t see why it would be necessary for everyone to accede. The fact of the matter is, Mister Monochaperone has no hope of any of us ever referring to him as our waifu if he doesn’t cooperate.” 

Aidan pauses, like he needs a moment to come to terms with the combination of words that just left his mouth. 

“But there’s a chance if I do...?”

“You have my word.”

“Mine as well.”

“Like, both of their words’re way fancier than mine, but same.”

Monochap looks hopefully to the only one who hasn’t spoken up on the matter.

“I...”

“...do NOT agree to call this WHACKADOODLE anything of the SORT!”

“...”

“But I won’t stop the REST of you morons, I GUESS.”

“I’m EVERY BIT as TIRED of this as YOU are.”

“Mmn...”

He’d probably be chewing on his lip if he had lips. Or teeth.

“Well?”

“W-well...”

“I... I’ll do it!”

“Seriously?”

“Heck yeah!”

“You will?”

I really shouldn’t be the most surprised when it was my idea.

“Mmm-hmm!”

“I-I guess I have a lot to get ready...”

“Please excuse me!”

He does about half a curtsy before speeding down the hallway. Upon hitting a dead end, he panics before turning around and speeding the other way until I can’t hear him anymore. I’m not convinced he didn’t just stop in the middle of the hallway once he was out of sight. Guess it’s not too important either way.

The awed silence in his wake doesn’t last long.

“Well. I rather think it’s high time that abomination called off its little game.”

Kanagi cuts off before she can loose a very visible whoop.

“Uhh, called off? But, like, he’s totally doing more of the game-y stuff?”

“But the trial is to locate... the young master.”

“.....”

“So the GAME should be OVER once they get SNIFFED OUT here! Do I have to spell it OUT more than THAT?”

“I think we get the picture, thank you.”

“I may ask for a more exact timetable for this investigation. Mobilizing the current investigators efficiently over so many floors will be, uh...”

“A little tricky.”

“I’ve never wanted to ask, because I feel like he’d give us less time than we’d have otherwise.”

“I suppose I wouldn’t be surprised either way.”

“Do we, like, even gotta get all the floors?”

“We’re totally just looking in the lab room or whatevs, right?”

Mahavir frowns and retrieves his student ID.

“My, you’d have difficulty organizing this lot to examine a single room?”

“Unsurprising, but still pathetic.”

“Wrangling this crowd is a feat no matter how many rooms are involved.”

“It ought to be more than Lab Room A regardless.”

“WHAT? How about you SPEAK UP! Unless you DON’T want anyone to hear you, then SHUT up!”

Mahavir glances between Ichiriki and Tsunyasha, who at least isn’t facing him. I casually step between those two.

“How so?”

His eyes go to his electroID screen.

“10. All rooms with relevant evidence will be accessible during murder investigations.”

“Thus...”

“...If it has to do with the killer’s identity, we should have access! Right?”

I look to the other smart person in the room.

“It’s a valid reading, certainly.”

I start to ask if there’s a less favorable valid reading, but on second thought, why give the young master any ideas they may not already have?

“Good. Let’s see what we can do.”

Is it wrong to be optimistic? Or maybe it’s been so long since I’ve felt that way that I’m completely misidentifying the feeling.

But this is really the end. Us versus the young master. Whoever outsmarts the other wins, and the game is over. And no one else even had to die.

Of course, if we get it wrong...

“..........”

But we won’t. Even if one person here is against us, there’s no way five Apex Academy students can’t win out.

Let’s finish this.

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