#Who said Joyness is dead it's still pretty much alive :3

[manuinout]

I HAVE GIVEN IN TO MY URGES-

(Btw, Joy and Embarrassment both date Sadness, but these two together are just friends lol)

[lovelystay]

𝑀𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 - 𝐽𝑖𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔🍒 💣1/2

(𝑅𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡)

[Rᴇsᴜᴍᴇ : Jisung is obsessed with you so he asked his parents to arrange a wedding . Your family, on the other hand, is pretty poor so they immediately agree. You don’t like it but can't do something to stop them... there will be some smut but little fluff at the end.]

~Pᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ɴᴏɴ ᴄᴏɴ sᴍᴜᴛ~

Jisung finds everything about you perfect , from your head until your toes , inside like outside , you were the most perfect human he had ever seen . He believed you were his soulmate , lovely and kind with him when even his own « friends » found him weird . You acted this way around him because the little boy was very adorable and cute , but mostly by pity ...

Nobody stayed around him a lot and it looked like you were the only person he would smile and be happy with .

And it was true , Han liked you a lot , you actually think he have a crush on you , he treated you like you were his girlfriend . You weren’t against it though , he offered you a lot of stuff , and your family wasn’t really wealthy , so it was win win for both of you . He gets to be with his « crush » and you get to not pay for food and stuffs and worry about money .

But for jisung , all of this will lead to something else much important , he wasn’t buying you things and treating you like a princess for you to leave him a week later . In facts , he wanted to make you his , completely. To marry you basically. The cute boy was always spying on you by some way, because you were the only person he cared of , and you actually cared of him too . So why not , right ?

He was getting sick every time he had to leave you , jisung always wanted to be by your side , to see you . He thought that secretly taking pictures of you and stay the whole night watching them would make him feel better , but no , he wants to feel you , to hug you .

Being away from you would now bring him into a sudden episode of depression, he won’t have the strength to do anything and can’t smile at all . Seeing you became vital for him .

So he went and had a discussion with his parents . They were worried for him , every time they saw him , he looked sad , hurt and won’t talk at all . They could do anything to bring a smile on their only child’s face again .

So , as soon as jisung entered the big room his mom ran to him . « Hello jisung ~ are you okay ? Do you need anything sweetheart? » she asks in a rush , desesparated to make him happy and figure out what’s wrong .

« Actually , yes . Yes I need something » Han answers . « Can you bring dad , I need to talk to the two of you » he continued .

Han’s mother go upstairs , running to find her husband . She comes back with him still in a rush , dragging him by the arm .

Jisung sits down on the long and expensive couch , he invites his parents to do the same in front of him and starts to talk , «  Mom and dad , I’ve found someone I really love » he ignores his parents surprise and big eyes and continue « I always miss her and I’m sad whenever I don’t see her . You’ve noticed too right ? »

« Yes we’ve did , everything was just because of a girl ? » his dad answers and asks .

« It’s not just a girl , I really feel empty without her , I want her to be mine... »

« We understand , but , why would you say that to us instead of asking her to be your girlfriend ? » han’s mother asks confused .

« I’m going straight to the point , I want to marry her , I want her to be my wife »

« Jisung ! She’s not even your girlfriend ! We do not even know her name... »

« Y/n , y/l/n y/n , do you accept and support it or not ? »

« Jisung , you can’t just do that »

After a long debate going on between Han jisung and his parents , they finally accept . They’ve thought of it , and , it was the only thing that could make him happy . And they were rich anyway , a wedding wouldn’t be annoying financially. Jisung gave his dad your parents number , because , of course he have those basic information, to let them call your parents and convince them .

His dad promised them money and wealth if they would let you marry their son Han jisung . Your parents thought about the offer a lot after the call , they had a debate concerning the wedding . But there wasn’t many negative point . They weren’t going to pay anything and are going to get out of the poverty they were in for years .

Your parents said it was good for you as well , so they called back and accepted.

It was now late and you came back from school , you were exhausted and tired . With the small energy you have left , you run to your room to do what you waited for all day , sleep . But as soon as you jump on your bed to get some rest , you hear the sudden voice of your mom which prevented you from doing so .

« Come down y/n , we need to tell you something ... »

You let out a long sigh , you were sensitive right now and didn’t want to talk to anyone . But it seemed to be important so you join your mom in the living room . Your mom and dad were looking strangely nervous , your mom was playing with her fingers and rings and your dad couldn’t even make an eye contact with you .

« i can’t understand what’s going on but can you please be quick , I’m very tired »

Your dad’s breath was shaky and he sighed like he was preparing to tell you something big and important , which made your heart beat a little faster and awoken you a bit . Instead of your tired eyes they had now your entire attention. They’ve never been so weird around you .

« You know we are pretty poor right ? »

You bob your head up and down agreeing with him .

« Wouldn’t it be great if we would be less poor ? Or even rich ? »

You giggle a bit and say « of course it would be great , nobody would disagree with that »

Your mom smile gently and asks « do you know Han jisung ? You like him right ? »

You were surprised and didn’t understand where they’re point and all of those question were supposed to lead .

« Continue » you didn’t want to respond to that question , you just wanted to know what your parents wanted to say .

« He said he liked you a lot , he wants to ... » your dad say hesitantly.

« To marry you » your mom finish .

« Well I’ll just tell him no , what the hell does that have to do with all of us ? »

« Listen , their parents said he is really sad when he’s away from you , his parents hated to see him like that and they promised us a lot of money if you’d marry him »

Your dad finally confess. You felt horribly disappointed and betrayed by your own family .

« So you said yes to them ?! Did you two even thought of how I feel ? If I like him ?! You don’t even know if he’s a perv or a bad person but you just agreed to literally sell your only daughter’s happiness for money ?! Seriously ? »

« Calm down y/n , it’s even beneficial for you , you’ll finally be rich and live like the princess you deserve to be , Han jisung is pretty handsome too , I don’t understand why you’re so mad » your mom dare to say.

« If I want money I’ll gain it myself , I don’t need a fucking weird rich boy like him to live happily »

You rushed into your room to cry , you hated to show your « weakness » and cry in front of your parents . You try to be quiet and ruin your pillow to muffle your cry in it .

•*•*•*•*•

The wedding is in 3 days , you are still against it , your parents are still for it .

Jisung’s parents prepared everything , you had nothing else to do but wait . They didn’t even have you the location or the instructions, they told you that a private driver was going to get you . The only time you’ll see jisung it at the actual wedding . You would try and run away before the d-day but your parents would never let you . Now you only see them as the worst person in the world , you never want to see them again , you didn’t care how poor you and your family was , how can you sell your daughter for money and force her to marry a random guy you don’t even know .

You were cleaning your room and complaining about your fate when you receive a message from jisung . You open and read them .

Han jisung

[ hi y/n ]

[did they send you the dress ? ❤️ ]

You close your phone and throw it on your bed , yes they did send the dress but you absolutely didn’t want to talk to him , everything started because of him and his obsession for you . Now your family is breaking and you’ll have to be with him for the rest of your life . You start crying again , the feeling that you can’t do anything to stop it made you angry and stressed out .

•*•*•*•*•

During those three days before the disaster , you were alive but dead at the same time . You hated your parents and wanted to make them feel bad about they’re decision by just locking yourself in your room . You know it would hurt them and you did it on purpose , you only ate two meals during those three days . You didn’t want to marry jisung but you’re forced . How could you feel happy or joyful about this .

Your mom dragged you to the expensive looking car , you were going to get prepared for the wedding . When you got there you were amazed , it is so beautiful , it felt forbidden for a poor girl like you to even be able to see such a pretty and luxury looking place . The people working looked like they already knew who you were , they were waiting for you . Many people came and after the greetings they rapidly set themselves to work . Many person were taking care of you at the same time , you felt special but uncomfortable . They helped you put on your dress and heels , made your hair , did your make up , gave you snacks , did your nails etc ...

Everything seemed to be ready and you got back to the car where the driver was waiting . You wanted to cry but held the tears in not wanting to ruin the amazing make up they did on your face . After arriving at the town hall you saw a lot of people you didn’t even recognize that were waiting for you. You were walking and walking with a bouquet of flowers in your hands . The stress made you hold them really tight you thought you were going to break them . Jisung was right in front of you , you could see in his eyes that he loved the way you looked . Everything went good until the moment arrived where you needed to say yes to jisung . You wanted to say no , but you were too scared of the consequences and the silence started to get awkward . You said yes , he kissed you , you didn’t kiss him back , and everyone clapped . The discomfort obvious on your face and the love obvious in jisung’s eyes . After the party that was thrown you didn’t saw you’re parents anymore . They’ve already packed your stuff and send them to han’s parents . Talking about them , they’ve rented a big house for you and jisung , they wanted for you two to get to know each other better . Maybe they should’ve made us do that before getting us married ...

You took off everything , showered and put on your pyjamas . During the wedding and even after , jisung was trying to talk to you , laugh with you , he was clingy . But you ignored him the whole time . So since the beginning of the wedding and a little before you did not have a proper conversation with someone who is now your spouse .

« Y/n » said jisung entering your room .

« Let’s talk »

[ephemeralstark]

The Targets We Paint

Summary:  “Do you really think walking into Stark Industries with a handcuffed kid is a good idea?” Peter asked, “because the second you get in there, someone will alert the emergency services, you won’t get far.” 

 “You’re wrong,” and even though Peter knew he wasn’t, the complete lack of concern in the man’s voice was causing him mild anxiety. “

Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” the man asked, not remaining silent for long, “we’ll see who’s worrying about calling the cops when I’m threatening to blow your brains all over their pristine white floors.”

 Peter swallowed, hard, “shows how prepared you are,” he said with false bravado, “the floors in the main atrium are black marble.” 

-

 Peter knew being Spider-Man put a target on him, but it was a risk he was willing to take for the safety of the citizens of Queens. He just never considered how dangerous it could be to be Peter Parker.

AN: whumptober day 4: prompt - collapsed building. TW for bombs, guns, violence, proceed with caution. Sorry the prompt only appears at the end whoops and this is going to be 3 parts not 2 bc i suck 

Part 2 of 3

To Peter’s horrified surprised the man who was holding him started to laugh, and not a fake sarcastic laugh, but a full-bellied, shoulder shaking guffaw that made the gun against Peter’s temple shake, he could hear the bullets inside tremble. There was no more innocent hope that the weapon hadn't been loaded. 

“Everyone says you’re smart, and you really are, aren’t you?” the man asked. 

“Is this all an elaborate plan to test my intelligence?” Mr. Stark asked and Peter’s eyes jumped to his feet as he watched him slide a foot forward on the marble, trying to inch his way closer without being detected, “because I have to admit there are easier ways to go about that than holding my intern hostage. I’m a show-off, you just had to challenge me to an IQ test or something.” 

“Is this the part where you ask me to let him go?” the man asked idly, his tone so conversational as he ignored Mr. Stark that it sent shivers down Peter’s spine as his Spidey-Sense warned him that he wouldn't be walking out of this situation unscathed.

But what could he do? The man was holding the gun so tightly to his head that if he tried anything, there was a good chance he would be dead before he could so much as turn around.

“Why would I ask that?” Mr. Stark asked him. 

“Don't you care for his life?” the man asked. 

“I mean I’d rather you didn't kill him in front of all of these people,” Mr. Stark said with a small shrug, “and I have to admit that I’ve grown rather fond of his inane rambling, but you don't seem to care about that.”

“Beg me to release him,” the man said. 

“Is that what this is about?” Mr. Stark asked, inching closer once more. “Is this all just a power trip for you?” 

Peter felt the man holding him tense, “a power trip?” he asked, and it was obvious that he was unhappy about the phrasing. 

“Well, you’re walking into my building with my intern at gunpoint as you demand to speak with me, and the moment I turn up you want to hear me beg?”  Mr. Stark said, “I have to admit, it seems a little power trippy.”

“This isn't a power trip,” oh, the man was speaking through gritted teeth now, Mr. Stark was definitely hitting a nerve somewhere. 

“Come on, wait, what’s your name? Is it Dave? You look like a Dave, we’re all going to call you Dave now, right kid?” Mr. Stark said. 

“Uh, he’s holding a gun to my head I don't think I want to do that,” Peter mumbled. 

“Come on, Kid, Dave knows there are at least five guns trained on him by now, if he does anything, he’ll be dead before he hits the ground,” Mr. Stark told him as though that was meant to be reassuring. 

“Maybe I don’t care about making it out alive,” Dave said, but Peter could feel his sudden tension that contradicted his words. 

“Oh, you do though,” Mr. Stark said, “otherwise that bomb would have been set off the moment I arrived in this atrium, you wouldn't be bothering to try and appear more powerful than me, you would have done it instantly and it would be attached to you rather than a device in your pocket.” 

“Stop… talking… about… power!” Dave said slowly through gritted teeth, the volume rising with each word that slipped out.

“You’re a little touchy on that aren’t you?” Mr. Stark asked.

“You keep trying to undermine me,” Dave snapped, “but who’s the one with a hostage right now?” 

“Oh, big deal, you kidnapped a fifteen-year-old, and a pretty lanky, dorky one,” Mr. Stark said, “pretty sure Peter has never done a sport in his life.” 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter said with an offended sniff, “I’m being held as a hostage, are you really going to do me the dirty right now?” 

“Kid, come on, I had to pick you up last week because you tried to climb the rope and fell and somehow missed the mat?” Mr. Stark said, “like come on, that mat is huge, how did you miss? And how the hell did you fall?” 

“I was showing off,” Peter lied - he had actually intentionally fallen so that people wouldn't be suspicious that Peter Parker could suddenly climb the rope, it wasn't his fault that he was stupid and misjudged the fall.

“Why would you pick him up if he’s just your intern?” Dave asked suspiciously. 

“Come on, Dave, keep up,” Mr. Stark said, rolling his eyes, he was now close enough that Peter could smell his cologne, “I told you, the inane babbling grows on you, if you zone him out enough it's like there’s a toddler yapping away.” 

“A toddler?” Peter asked. 

“My name isn't Dave.”

“What is it then?” Peter asked, “because I’m kinda calling you Dave in my head now.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” 

Dave was pissed.

Peter’s Spidey-Senses screamed at him a nano-second before he felt something hard crack against the back of his skull and a dizzy wave overtook him as he fell forward, Mr. Stark caught him just before he hit the ground, which Peter was grateful for as with his hands still cuffed behind his back he would have landed with his face hitting the marble and no way to try and prevent this.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered to Mr. Stark, “I didn't react quick enough, he had the cuffs on before I could think.” 

“Don’t blame yourself,” Mr. Stark replied quietly and he helped the cuffed boy back to his feet, and Peter didn't miss the look of horror as his mentor froze and stared at his own hands that were now tainted with the blood of the kid before him, “you're bleeding?” 

“The cuffs have spikes inside,” Peter said quietly. 

“They wh-”

“Enough waffling,” Dave said with a tone of impatience, “tell your men to put their weapons down otherwise I’ll release.” 

Peter’s gaze instantly fell on Dave’s hand that was holding the wired contraption that looked a lot like what he’d expect a bomb to look like, and then in the other hand was a button and judging from the way his thumb was tensed, he was pressing down which meant… oh. 

“Mr. Stark, if he releases that…” 

“I know, Kiddo,” Mr. Stark said, Peter saw a muscle in his jaw twitch, “alright, just be careful with that thing.”

“Tell them,” Dave said. 

“Right, guys, you heard him,” Mr. Stark announced, “fall back.”

By that point Peter could hear the law enforcement officers outside discussion tactics and planning to make contact, little did they know that it was pointless, Dave was heading towards his endgame and it was growing more and more clear that this wasn't about money. 

“If you ignite that bomb, you’re going to die,” Mr. Stark said, “is that really what you want?” 

“I don't care,” Dave said, “you destroyed me, Stark, you ruined everything, and now… I’m willing to put my life on the line to get my revenge.” 

“Look, this is getting old,” Mr. Stark said, trying to push Peter behind him, not that Peter would allow that, “we’ve already established that you don't want to die, so spill the truth, did you work here?” 

“No,” the man scoffed, “I would never have demeaned myself in that way.” 

“First: rude, and second, then why are you so pissed off?” 

“Do you remember the new theory that Oscorp Industries released?” Dave asked. 

Mr. Stark scoffed and let out a laugh, “of course this is related to Oscorp, and yes, I do. It was flawed and there was no way to prove it without inhumane human trials that would have risked lives and had a high rate of fatalities.” 

“That was my theory,” Dave shouted, “I was queued up for a promotion, I was going to get the funding to prove it true, and then you made a statement to the press about it and they were suddenly watching us.” 

“So you’re mad you were going to be held accountable?” Mr. Stark asked, “sounds like I did all the participants a favour, really.”

“You-” Dave broke off, visibly shaking with fury, “you don't get to say that, you don't get to-” 

“You need to calm down,” Mr. Stark told him. 

That was apparently the worst thing Mr. Stark, or anyone could have said because Dave was instantly furious. He threw everything he was holding against the ground and Peter was able to see the instantly look of terrified regret on his face that told him enough to act. 

Without the use of his hands, he was limited on what he was able to do, so he used his shoulder and rammed Mr. Stark to the ground with it, the older man was taken aback with the shock of the action and fell easily, just in time for Peter to cover his body with his own as a blast radiated from behind. 

It was hot, Peter thought before his attention turned to the trembling ground and he wondered whether they were unlucky enough to be having an earthquake at the same time. He would have considered it further, and perhaps he would have realised that the building was crumbling around him, but he was hit by something solid and the darkness dragged him under so that he was blissfully unaware of anything further. 

Tag List: @joyful-soul-collector @thatavengersbitch @spidey-reids-2003 @clover-roseee @thespydersargon @iron-loyalty @ormbunkar @justme--emily @pookiethefrickinbunn @pillowspace @akalovelymaybe

[kane-m-killer]

Here’s a small horror story draft

________________________________________

Has anyone seen Pete? He’s 25,6’1,black curly greasy hair,pimple face? Used to frequent this subreddit often? I wanted to ask you all if you have seen them cause I’m an old friend of his and I wanted to say if any of you saw him or have seen him.

Run away, Run far away.

No I’m not joking either,Or trying to paint him in a bad light. This guy is serious bad news, and if you won’t take my word for it. First off, good on you for not trusting a random Redditor. Allow me then to start from the beginning as to why the next time I see this man it will be in a morgue when we are both dead.

I met him at a A&A meeting. I was in bad shape when I met him, addicted to drinking at 21 and down on my luck. He was a new member we had to say hi to and he sat next to me once he introduced himself.

I can’t remember the details of the conversation but I know we talked about something boring like the weather maybe.

He was there for a few more sessions until he stopped coming.

I didn’t think much of it until one autumn night when I left the building after the meeting,7 weeks sober then mind you, he was there leaning against the building. It was like he was trying to seem cool but in actuality just looked dumb and a try hard.

But nevertheless I still went up and talked to him, I can’t tell you why but I guess it doesn’t matter now. We talked more and his slow monotonous voice gave an air of disturbed charm to me. I thought he was like one of those guys that are bland on the outside but fascinating on the inside. And strangely because of that we became friends.

Friends for 3 years for that matter. And through all that time he was a good friend, he offered his advice and gave me a shoulder to cry on when needed. It’s just that something about his behavior sometimes really should’ve told me he was trouble.

For example when me and him were at a bar being the sober friends at a party and he was flirting with a girl next to us, me being too tired to be a wingman I stayed quiet but listened to his conversation.

“So what are you doing tonight honey?” He started off with

“Nothing to do with you that’s for sure” she retorted and I held back a laugh.

“…You should shut the fuck up then before I take those hot lips of yours and cut them off.” He said with a voice that I haven’t heard him use ever. It was fucking creepy

“Excuse me?!” The lady said immediately getting up to leave

“I’ll be able to kiss your sexy lips all the time if I cut them off, you sure aren’t using them much if you're using them to talk shit.” He continued grabbing her arm. I was utterly shocked and disgusted with him and got up and punched him clean in the face. He reeled back and gave me the dirtiest look and yelled at me, we argued, screaming at each other for a good minute before we were kicked out the bar for disturbing the peace, he left in his car and I was there with no ride.

I was about to call an Uber when someone tapped my shoulder. It was the girl who Pete harassed, she wanted to thank you for defending her and asked if I needed a ride. We talked on the way to my house and I’ll cut off at this bit to just say Her name is Desiree and she’s now been my best friend for three years.

The reason I’m telling you this is because me and Desiree became close enough to move in together, and throughout that whole move from my mothers house (yes I know, cringe) I haven’t told Pete about her and me, in fact I don’t think I had a full conversation with him since the bar fight. And honestly I was fine with that.

I just wish it stayed that way.

It’s been a couple weeks since I fully moved in with Desiree and I was home alone while she worked the night shift. I was messing around on my phone when I felt eyes on me. Not the kind of eyes you feel from a worried mother or annoying friend but just eyes, cold unmoving eyes.

I got up from the couch and looked at the windows. Desiree had one of those studio apartments with the balcony window the size of the wall. I tried to stare into the blackness that was night outside but of course I saw nothing of anything or anyone. But the eyes still wouldn’t leave me. I looked everywhere in the house but no dice.

The eyes felt like it was amused at me failing to try and find its source. I decided it was just my mind messing with me and I just went to bed.

I fell asleep pretty easily after I calmed down and the eyes almost went away,until I woke up.

Now there’s this thing about humans that can detect if it’s life is in danger. I think my body activated because of that. Cause when I woke up I felt a weight at the side of the bed.

Someone was in the bed with me.

I didn’t dare move, I didn’t dare speak. Anything that could have indicated I was alive save for my breathing ceased. I tried to access the situation but a hard metal object touched my back, it felt like every nerve in my body prepared me for this moment but when the moment came I just froze. It’s such a pathetic thing to do but I couldn’t do anything other than freeze.

I felt the person scooch up to me pressing the knife closer at my back, to the point where I was drawing blood and the person’s chest was touching my back. I could feel their hot breath on my neck that night.

We stayed that way for what felt like hours. I think they were waiting for me to move or show that I was awake or something cause I stayed froze in that position, at that time I couldn’t even feel my body with how hard I was trying to keep it together.

The worst part about it was that they never spoke a word, but their eyes were unmistakable. They were the same eyes watching me from afar earlier now staring at the back of my neck waiting for me to mess up.

The front door soon opened with what I assume was Desiree coming home from work, the person in my bed slowly moved away and came off the bed. Their weight being so heavy I almost flew up when they got up.

While they opened the door out of my room I slowly reached for my phone on the desk. I heard him walking downstairs and typed in a number quickly.

Pretty soon I heard it. Desiree’s phone rings. She picks it up and her sleepy but joyful voice almost makes me cry of relief.

“Hey dude, what’s up? Did you go to sleep early?” She said, I can hear her smile as she puts down her things and opens the fridge. I can’t hear the person who was in her house.

“I’m fine, just wanted to say hi, and yeah…could you do me a favor and go outside real quick?” I said trying my best to not sound like I’m shaking as my body finally responds to moving as I snuck out of bed.

“Um,what? Listen man I’m too tired for any games rn.” She said sounding a little annoyed. I don’t blame her.

“Just, go outside like right now.” I hear a creak of wood on her end of the line “please.”

I raised a glass cup high above my head, the plan came to me during the call as I was straining to listen for the intruder. I smashed the glass against the wall and I heard it double on the phone.

“Now!” I screamed into the phone before hanging up and jumping out the window of my room, her apartment was thankfully on the second floor to the way down wasn’t deadly. But concrete on bare skin hurted like a bitch.

I heard a scream from the window and my heart dropped, but the next thing I saw made my whole body stop again. The intruder was looking at me recon the window I dropped from.

And it was Pete.

Me and Pete stared at each other for what felt like eternity, his dark eyes and pimple faced morphed by the dark room into something hideous to look at. I heard the building door open and out came Desiree with blood coming from her arm.

We both ran away with him close behind. It hurt to move after being still for so long but I had to keep running. We managed to lose him in traffic and alleys and after thirty minutes found a police station. We came in scared and with bloody bare feet, we told them everything and we stayed there for the rest of the night.

Some police went back to the apartment and by a stroke of luck found him waiting for us in Desiree’s room doing stuff that I won’t repeat here. He was arrested for attempted murder and breaking and entering. I later found out he was outside watching me through the window via a ladder. So that would explain the eyes.

But something happened in court and he was let go due to good lawyers from his family. He’s out free and I haven’t seen him since

So that’s why I ask, have you seen Pete? I don’t know if he’s moved to another country or is still around here. He could be anywhere and I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea where to look.

Remember what he looks like. 25,6’1,black hair and pimple face. Don’t trust anything he says to you and just run.

And watch the people you meet in a AA meeting

[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 3, deadly life (Part 5)

Note of the author: ... Heavy stuff incoming. Sensible souls beware.

Chapter 3: What is beyond humans’ control - Deadly life

...

Kaito’s face blanched. Shuichi could faintly see sweat drops on his temple.

"I... I’m...”

He felt bad for the biker.

He was the only one with decent knowledge in mechanics and able to do Keebo’s maintenance while both Tsumugi and Ryoma were sick.

The responsibility of Keebo’s death fell on him.

He was the one responsible.

He was the reason why the robot wasn’t with them anymore.

Even if Keebo wasn’t human, he was still considered a part of the group. And to Monokuma, he was a participant.

He had a conscience -though less developed than a human’s-, he had thoughts, desires, and even though he didn’t express them much, Keebo did have emotions.

The thought of his friend being executed like Tenko and Maki for a tiny maintenance mistake he didn’t have full control upon...

That terrified Shuichi.

Now that he thought about it, how many of them were responsible for others’ deaths? Or even attempted to kill?

Miu tried to, but couldn’t bring herself to actually do it.

Kaito killed Keebo on accident.

Kokichi was the reason why Kaede was the victim of the second case.

Kirumi murdered several people in the past.

Ryoma, as a war mechanic, built weapons that killed people.

That left five people innocent.

Only half the group had never tried to and/or ended someone’s life.

... And he didn’t count the blackened who killed Himiko.

Did they already have blood on their hands before committing the crime?

Who knows.

The courtroom was silent, the others slowly realizing the truth.

Miu was looking away. The guilt seemed to flow back to her. Perhaps a part of her knew how he was feeling.

Ryoma looked angry, but kept his emotions to himself. Now was probably not the time to lash out at Kaito, and he knew it.

Kirumi, Kiyo and Rantaro, even though they were not the most expressive, had hints of pity on their faces.

Tsumugi was staring at Kaito, a neutral look on her face. She didn’t look satisfied by the results, but she didn’t look annoyed either. How could she be so calm in a situation like this?

Angie was hard to read. Was she not caring about Keebo’s death? She was simply waiting for something to happen, but couldn’t bring herself to start the conversation.

And Kokichi... He looked more troubled about what was coming than the fact Kaito was indeed, the second blackened.

They all investigated Keebo’s death to know what Kokichi even had those last few days.

Was the truth even worth achieving? Was it worth putting a “killer” stamp on Kaito’s face?

Monokuma may have said he would have forced them to investigate Keebo’s death anyway, but they still chose to go along with it.

Shuichi had a horrible feeling.

“And now...” Monokuma broke the silence. “I have to complete my part of the deal!”

The others turned back to the bear- except Kaito, who was still looking at the ground.

Kokichi was even more afraid than Shuichi.

“Drum rolls for Kokichi’s condition, please!” the mascot yelled.

Before the remaining Monokubs could start the noise, Rantaro interrupted them. “Just tell us already.”

“Kids these days! No sense of humour!” Monokuma pouted. “Very well! In that case...”

“Kokichi did, indeed, have the despair disease, even though his symptoms differed from the others!”

Shuichi unconsciously held his breath.

“And... What were my symptoms...?” Kokichi hesitantly asked.

“Puhuhuhuhu! Well what would be more suited for you...”

“... Than the reverse disease!”

Shuichi raised an eyebrow. “The... Reverse disease?”

He glanced at the others. They were just as confused... And then his eyes landed on Rantaro. The medic’s face became as white as Kaito’s.

Does he know?

“... Oh no.” Rantaro muttered low enough to be heard only by Shuichi's musician ears and perhaps the two girls on his sides.

“It’s pretty simple actually!” Monokuma continued. “This disease will reverse your talent! So for the ultimate karma who’s very existence rewards good people and punishes the bad ones...”

“An ultimate karma with the reverse disease will punish innocent people and reward the bad ones!”

Shuichi could barely mutter “What does this have to do with anyth-”

Before he realized.

Himiko.

Himiko was the one to care about Kokichi the most.

So much that she stayed around him almost the entire time he was sick.

So much that when she wasn’t at his side, she felt guilty for leaving him alone.

She never was afraid of his talent and the dangers around it.

She still helped him get through everything that happened in the game.

And when they found her dead this morning...

... She was unrecognizable.

Wounds covering her body, bones and joints broken, stabbed in all places, and a grotesque graffiti of angel wings behind her back painted with her own blood.

And all this torture inflicted while she was alive.

They were all wondering what she even did to deserve such a cruel fate...

... But the answer was right here. Right in front of their eyes.

Like a reversed wheel of fortune unable to stop spinning.

Like a blind judge unable to distinct the virtue from the vice.

Kokichi and the disease offered the astronomer a fate worse than death.

And he had no control over this.

Karma rendered an unjust judgement and took the life of the one who deserved it the less.

...

Shuichi’s eyes slowly widened in horror.

The others felt as shocked and terrified as him as they realized the harsh truth.

Even Ryoma and Tsumugi who were the most stoic people of the group were appalled by the reveal.

First Kaede, and now this? Kokichi had finally started to accept his talent thanks to Himiko, and she perished because of it.

What did Kokichi even do to deserve this?

Wasn’t being the cause of Kaede’s death enough for Monokuma?

“Haha... Hahahahahahah...”

The violinist’s eyes shifted to the small boy.

He was hysterically laughing.

For what felt like an eternity, a delirious laughter filled the courtroom, dumbfounded eyes fixated on him.

“What did I even expect? It’s always my fault. It always has been. Whenever something bad happens it’s always me. Whenever someone suffers it’s always me. And if it’s not my fault well guess what? It’s still me somehow.”

The tone of his voice sent chills down Shuichi’s spine. It was like he already accepted it.

How used to this type of situation was he?

How much blood did he have on his hands because of his talent?

“Well! You got your answer now!” He outstretched his arms, a wide smile on his face. A joyful gesture not fitting a normal reaction at all. “If it’s karma that killed Himiko, then you have your blackened! It was about time I pay for every death I’m responsible for.”

Shuichi blinked. “What...?”

"It’s my fault she died, right? Then it’s only fair *I* get to be executed.” he continued.

In his voice wasn’t regret nor sadness.

It was madness. Tiredness. Dreadful acceptance.

A plea to end his life.

When he broke down last trial, it was already hard to look at.

But this was different.

They were all so convinced his condition would be a major clue to the case that they forgot why Monokuma even put them in this killing game.

It was to make inflict them despair.

And he was excelling at doing do.

Rantaro himself was starting to panic. “Hold on, we can’t just execute you, we don’t even know if you’re-”

“Who cares about that! Karma ended her life, end of the story! I’m the culprit you’re all searching for!” He yelled desperately.

“Even if ‘karma’ is part of this, we don’t even know who was the one to kill her. So unless you killed her we have no reason to vote for you.” Kirumi countered.

“SHUT UP! You have no idea what you’re talking about! There is one person responsible for her death here, and it’s me!”

Kiyo tried to calm down the conflict. “I probably will never understand what you went through but we need to-”

“There’s nothing to understand! Himiko is dead because of me and this despair bullshit! I am the blackened here!”

“Then let’s settle this right now.” Tsumugi slammed her hands on her podium.

Shuichi snapped out of his shock. “What do you-”

“Monokuma, I have a question about the rules.” she asked.

Everyone turned to the prodigy.

“Who counts as the blackened in a case exactly?”

The robotic bear laughed, paws on his mouth.

“The blackened is the student who commits the killing. So no matter how much someone is indirectly responsible for someone’s death...”

“... Only the person who does the final blow is the blackened!”

Rantaro frowned. “The final blow...?”

“Or in the case of a poisoning, it’s the person who gave the substance to the victim who is the blackened!”

The courtroom went silent.

“... That settles it.” Tsumugi declared.

No matter how much karma was part of the equation, Kokichi was not the blackened.

The boy looked beyond mad.

“That’s still on me! I’ve seen people die by my fault, Himiko is no exception!”

“Kokichi, please!” Rantaro yelled, surprising everyone.

He winced when Kokichi’s desperate eyes landed on his.

“It’s... Horrible. Even I have never seen such a horrible death before. And I’ve seen a lot of stuff over the years.”

“Then just vote for me already! I-”

“But.” he interrupted. “I refuse to believe an invisible concept such as karma was able to physically do anything to Himiko.”

“We still have a culprit to find. The real blackened.” Kirumi continued.

Angie looked up. “We didn’t talk about Himiko’s death that much, didn’t we?”

Shuichi took a deep breath. “I still... Have trouble realizing someone went that far in a crime...”

“I’m telling you I am the culprit! I am the reason Himiko died! I should count as the blackened!”

Kokichi was not giving up. 

Shuichi had trouble staying calm.

This whole trial was heartbreaking.

"Kokichi, are you the one who drugged me and killed Himiko?” Rantaro strongly gripped his podium.

“No! But I should still count as the blackened!”

“You are not the blackened for this! We have to find the real culprit, Monokuma said so himself!”

“I know I’m responsible for this! Just stop it already!”

“No! We have a murder to solve, we need to do justice for Himiko!”

“No one needs to die other than me here! There’s only one person who deserves a punishment and it’s me!”

“Can’t you see that whoever did this did not have a state of mind that could be described as remotely sane???”

Rantaro yelled desperately.

Kokichi stopped.

“Rantaro...” Ryoma turned to him. “What do you mean by that?”

“The killer could have just stabbed her and leave and yet...” he explained. “... I think whoever did this had lost every little bit of sanity they had. Which is why my theory is...”

“... That the killer had the despair disease and either never told any of us, or lied about their symptoms.”

Shuichi didn’t even know why he didn’t think of it this way. It felt obvious, on second thought.

“And do you think you can rule out some suspects?” Kiyo asked.

Rantaro thought for a second. “The first one we can rule out is Kokichi. Since Monokuma himself told us the real symptoms, and he even defended me about the soporifics.”

The violinist could see Kokichi clenching his fists, gaze to the ground.

Miu raised an eyebrow. “Can’t we also say Tsumugi and Ryoma are innocent? The monokubs pretty much confirmed their symptoms!”

“That’s what I’m doubting.” Rantaro replied. “Do you really think the monokubs would tell us if someone lied about their own symptoms?”

“Are you suggesting we’re lying?” Tsumugi glared at him.

The medic wasn’t phased in the slightest. “Aren’t you the one suspecting me all the time? Or only you are allowed to suspect other people?”

“Let’s not argue right now.” Kirumi interrupted them before things would go wrong.

Kiyo seemed to be pondering for a moment. “... Monokuma, I have a question about the disease.”

“Let’s see, what is your question?”

“Supposing the killer did have the despair disease. Do they remember their own crime?” he asked.

... If they didn’t, things would get really problematic.

“Excellent question! Even though it is tempting not to answer, I shall give you this detail!” the bear exclaimed.

“As much as a case where the murderer doesn’t remember their crime is interesting and has a lot of potential, for this case, if the killer did have the disease, they do remember their crime!”

“Then in that case we can rule out Tsumugi. She was the first one to tell us that she didn’t remember the last few days.” Kirumi explained. “And I don’t think Ryoma would have agreed to follow her and fake amnesia as well, if she was lying.”

“We can also rule out Ryoma in the process. He was with Rantaro and I for the first part of the investigation and told us the same.” Kiyo added.

“So we got Kokichi, Tsumugi and Ryoma out of the equation. Which is a start.” Rantaro concluded.

“However we can’t keep trying to rule out suspects like this.” Ryoma raised a hand. “If we don’t solve the murder as a whole we will get nowhere.”

Shuichi unconsciously nodded. “That’s right... I think that’s the best for now.”

“We have to solve Himiko’s murder entirely.”

[drusillab]

Evermore favorites!!!

1. Marjorie - the production is flawless but I really love how is talking in your own head to your loved ghost. it really hurts to listen but it doesn't end me because "what died didn't stay dead, you're alive in my head" and that's sad AND a very well needed hug. Growing up my grandmother said really awful things about my grandfather and I came into deep resentment and it affected our relationship very much and I felt I could never know him for what he was by myself and now I never will and I wish I had so I guess I just long that.

2. Tolerate it - it breaks me apart listening to this one because I'm not good showing affection and I always think I would be invading their private space, maybe they don't want to be touched or don't want to be touched by me and this song is 4 minutes of this fear in the most vulnerable way.

3. Champagne problems - by the title I didn't like it but then started to play and I felt on my bones, this song is heartbreaking because its the perspective of someone who let their loved one down, it's the heartbreak for breaking a heart. the lyrical self of the song is mourning the love they weren't ready for, they recognize the pain because its a pain they feel too. I love that.

4. 'tis the damn season - it's just a lovely song about a feeling that is deep but not so lasting, it's forever but not all the damn time, it's for old time sake, it's not about staying or waiting, it's about living that love when you can and they let it go. It's ephemeral. A fleeting love.

5. Happiness - "I would love you for a lifetime, left all behind" happiness could be the 1 if the 1 had more hurt and sorrow, it's amazing how it's recognizing that when you don't make the other a villain, you can find what it really was. It never denies the hurt and some sort of hate that went on that relationship but it recognize the beauty of it, remember the good and the bad and forget all too. I think it's a beautiful way to moving on.

6. No body no crime - maybe it's not fair to be this low because I love to listen, love to perform, I feel such a badass.

7. Coney island - this song definitely makes me go on fetal position. "wondering where my baby go" like WTF HAPPENED TO OUR LOVE? It's reminiscing an old lover, it feels like a movie that doesn't stop playing in your head, the mistakes show more often, where it went wrong, why your baby are gone.

8. Long story short - I LOVE HOW PLAYFUL AND JOYFUL THIS SONG IS and it's all happy Jaylor and it's happy and awesome

9. Evermore - to be honest, I wouldn't mind if Bon Iver skip the session they record this because I just love how Taylor sings this one. I relate so much having anxiety and feeling like this feeling would be for evermore and how freeing it is when you realize it won't.

10. Dorothea - I claimed this one when I saw the tracklist and at first it didn't hit me deep but now I'm all hearts and butterflies and blooming flowers because is so romantic and lovely and lovable. Its feel like a love song stuck on love book "you'll always know me, dorothea" and uhuu and how Taylor sings just make me go soft 💜

11. Gold rush - if anyone, other than me, actually see this list, I'm gonna get hate apparently. Also not a song that stuck with me when I first listened but it has grown in me, how you don't want some little pretty shiny thing that everybody desires, falling like flying until you hit the ground and break, something so beautifully unreachable, the perfection of someone, you just don't wanna because it's better feel comfortable with someone than feeling all the time the blush and that everybody is jealous, that's not good vibes, like "thanx but no"

12. Willow - it's definitely the song I would use to perform magical rituals to tie my fate to my loved one's and I'm here for it, losing my shit over ever single version, my favorite has been lonely witch remix but moonlit is also everything. Just to clarify, I still love this song full heartly, evermore just has many songs.

13. Ivy - it's still growing everyday in me but let's be honest, I'm not smart enough to understand this song. Is being covered in ivy good? There's moments that this song sounds lovely when she can't because her pain fits on your freezing hand taking hers when is promised to another but then there's coast is clean and somebody gonna burn this house to the ground. Why does she sound so bitter saying she's drinking her husband's wine? I don't get it but it does sound beautiful and has a amazing production.

14. Cowboy like me - I love the beginning and the melody so much but I just didn't connect with, it reminds me that movie with Scarlet Johansson that she's a social alpinist that falls for another and it ends badly but I do think it's beautiful how the two cowboys are lonely, always wanting things and then want each other and stop feeling abandoned because they could be together if they give up their old plans, it's a nice thought

15. Closure - it does sound bitter and in other moment in my life, I would've related more but I just didn't because I'm always looking for closure but the production doesn't go well with me but I would be head over heels to a acoustic version

••• I want to remember how I first heard evermore because I can barely remember which songs of folklore spoke to me the most when I first listened. I thought I didn't loved evermore as much as I did folklore I would die for the first twelve and I can barely understand how willow is twelfth song because I heard a zillion times.

•••• Taylor had a interview with zane and said that tolerate it it's very much inspired by Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier and I nearly died BECAUSE THE NOVEL CROSSED MY MIND LISTENING YAY!! I feel so connected with her

[hajimes-erect-ahoge]

Postmortem- Chapter 3

Now it's Kokichi's turn to wake up from the simulation!

ao3

Two weeks had passed since Saihara, Harukawa and Yumeno woke up from the simulation.

The trio had reconnected with their former classmates, making a nearly flawless transition from the simulation back to reality. This was in part due to them not experiencing death in the simulation, since the other participants had to deal with the fact that they weren’t actually dead despite believing that they were. Nonetheless, the trio was welcomed with open arms by the other participants, being congratulated for ending the killing game for good. So far, their recovery was going extremely well.

The same, however, could not be said for Ouma.

Unbeknownst to the other participants of the killing game, Ouma had woken up about a week ago. This in and of itself was a spectacular feat; The nurses had not expected him to wake up at all, let alone make a full physical recovery. Yet here he was, bouncing up and down on his hospital bed with the same joyful expression that he wore during the killing game, as if he had experienced no trauma at all.

When he first awoke, he was just about as dazed and confused as the other participants had been, and nearly fell to the ground after exiting his pod. Had a nurse not been there to immediately escort him to his room, he may have collapsed right there. The physical trauma he had experienced during his “death” had taken a toll on his body, leaving him feeling aches and pains through his whole body.

It was a miracle he could even walk, albeit barely, said the nurses.

Ouma hated being pitied, looked down upon like he was some poor little thing that needed to be taken care of. However, in this situation he had little choice, the searing pain coursing through his body going straight to his head and clouding his judgement. Thus, he allowed the nurse to help him walk to his room.

Once there, he was briefed on how Saihara and the others had ended the killing game, how Kiibo had destroyed the school and how Shirogane was the mastermind as well as just an artificial intelligence program. Normally, he would have watched these events transpire along with the rest of the participants that had awoken, but due to his traumatic death, he was still unconscious while this occurred.

Ouma had taken the news surprisingly well. He was calm throughout the whole explanation, receiving all the information given to him with a blank expression on his face. The nurses then left him alone to process the information, and advised him to go to the dining hall to see the others. Ouma, however, had refused to do so, demanding that all his meals be brought to him. Due to Ouma’s poor physical condition, the nurses begrudgingly accepted, bringing him three meals a day.

Despite the nurses bringing him food every day, Ouma barely ate. Whether it was just a natural habit to eat very little, resulting in his small stature, or if he was feeling down was unknown to the nurses. Sometimes a nurse would accompany him for a meal to keep him company, during which Ouma would claim he was fine and enjoy his meal normally. But when the nurses weren’t there, he hardly ate, dropping the gleeful facade he held even around them.

Not once had Ouma left his room since waking up. His room, like all the others, was equipped with a bathroom, and his meals were brought to him, so he had no reason to leave. The nurses just assumed he was feeling ill and didn’t want to move around too much, but after a week had passed, they started getting suspicious.

No one had asked about Ouma, and the nurses hadn’t informed the others that he was awake, so he had no visitors. He barely ate, and only left his bed to use the bathroom and to shower. Despite spending so much time in bed, there were bags under his eyes, and his face was drained of color. The nurses were genuinely concerned for his well-being, and collectively made the decision to tell the others that Ouma was awake, hoping that someone would come talk to him.

----------

The hospital they were in was designed and owned specifically by Team Danganronpa, so it was equipped with a variety of facilities for the participants until they got back on their feet. That included a recreation room, along with the dining hall and hospital rooms.

The recreation room was spacious, big enough to hold all of the participants of one killing game. There was a TV so that they could connect with the outside world, a foosball table, several towering bookshelves and a plethora of chairs and couches, even including bean bag chairs.

Chabashira and Yumeno were huddled underneath a blanket on the couch, watching a sitcom with starry eyes. It seemed to be an activity that the couple could enjoy together, although the rest of the group found the sitcom to be cheesy and overrated. Shinguji was reading some book about anthropology, never ceasing his studies, while Yonaga seemed to be painting. Saihara was reading a novel, presumably a mystery novel, while Harukawa sat by his side in silence.

Momota plopped down on a bean bag chain between Saihara and Harukawa, making an overly dramatic display of sitting down with a loud sigh. Saihara and Harukawa exchanged an amused glance at this.

Having received no attention from the other two, Momota sighed again, this time crossing his arms with a prominent pout on his face.

“Ah, is something wrong, Momota-kun?” Saihara spoke up, setting his novel aside.

“Of course something is wrong!” Momota complained loudly, voice booming throughout the recreation room. “No one wants to play football with me!”

“Oh, do you mean foosball?” Saihara glanced at the foosball table across the room, “I could play with you if you’d like-”

“I’m not talkin’ about foosball!” Momota smashed his fists together, frowning more deeply. “I mean football! Amami and I found a football in here earlier, but he said it was too cold to go outside and toss it around!”

“Of course no one wants to play football with you,” Harukawa sighed, “It’s the middle of February.”

“Who cares about that?!” Momota shouted, growing more and more frustrated, “A real man doesn’t care about the cold!”

Harukawa just shook her head, “You’ll catch a cold if you go out in this weather, you idiot.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I wouldn’t mind playing with you when the weather gets nicer…” Saihara attempted to console the sulking boy next to him.

The trio’s conversation was interrupted by a nurse walking into the recreation room. She cleared her throat before speaking in order to get everyone’s attention.

“Ahem… Um, I know not everyone is here, but I have an announcement to make.”

Shinguji and Yonaga looked up from their respective activities to direct their attention towards the nurse, as well as Chabashira, Yumeno and the trio sitting in the corner.

“Ouma-kun has been awake for some time now, but refuses to leave his room…” the nurse began. “I just thought everyone here would like to know, since you can’t be released until everyone is feeling better.”

It was quiet for a few moments before Harukawa spoke up, narrowing her eyes at the nurse.

“...You’re telling me he’s been awake this whole time, but just refuses to leave his room and come face the rest of us?”

“Well, not this whole time. Only for about a week or so,” the nurse responded, avoiding Harukawa’s piercing gaze.

Harukawa crossed her arms and sat back in her chair with a huff. “...Hmph. I was hoping that piece of shit would never wake up.”

The tension in the room was so palpable that it could be cut with a knife.

“Don’t say that, Maki Roll. You know he hated the killing game as much as the rest of us.” Kaito reasoned.

“That doesn’t excuse his actions… He got you killed, you know!” Harukawa was seething with anger, nails digging into her palms as she held her fists tight.

“...I know. But… it isn’t fair to judge him for what he did in the simulation. We all did some pretty horrible things in there…” Momota trailed off before continuing. “And what matters most is that we’re all alive now! So there’s no need to worry about what happened in the killing game!”

“What about what he’s doing to us right now? By keeping himself in his room this whole time he’s been delaying our release.” She clenched her fist, a look of pure fury on her face. “I bet he’s doing it on purpose just to screw with us!”

“Everyone, please calm down!” the nurse interjected. “Ouma-kun still hasn’t fully recovered yet, so I’m sure he isn’t trying to harm you guys… Please give him some time to feel better before making such harsh judgements.”

Harukawa glared at the nurse, all of her hatred being redirected towards her.

“...We understand. Thank you for informing us of Ouma-kun’s awakening.” Shinguji spoke, aiming to dismiss the tension in the room.

The nurse simply nodded before bowing and exiting the room.

It was silent for a few moments before anyone spoke, the tension in the room hanging over everyone’s heads. Eventually, everyone went back to their respective activities, the trio just sitting in silence.

Saihara held his chin in his hand, gazing directed away from the other two.

“...I forgot about Ouma-kun.”

Momota just awkwardly scratched at the back of his head, as if to say “I wish I could say the same.”

“We’re better off without that asshole anyway. I hope he never fully recovers.” Harukawa spat, venom laced in every word she spoke.

Momota had an uncharacteristically serious look on his face, staring pensively at the ground.

“Momota-kun? What’s wrong?” Saihara asked.

“...Nothin’. It’s just…” Momota sighed before continuing, linking his hands behind his head. “I wonder if Ouma really meant what he said in the hangar. Y’know, about wanting to end the killing game and stuff.”

“Hmm… I guess there’s no way to know for sure. Unless-”

“I got it!” Momota sprung up from his seat with a newfound determination. “I’ll just have to talk to him myself!”

“Ah, I’m not sure if you should go talk to him yet.” Saihara countered, “We should probably let him rest for now. At least for another day or two.”

“...I guess you’re right.” Momota said dejectedly, sitting back down.

Throughout the whole exchange, Harukawa had remained silent. When she finally spoke up, it startled both of the other two.

“If we keep talking about that piece of shit then I’m leaving.” she said curtly.

“Don’t be so down, Maki Roll! Come on, let’s go play some football!” Momota offered with newfound vigor in his words.

“...You already know my answer.” Harukawa shook her head.

Momota chuckled heartily, while Saihara just smiled at the couple’s antics.

Ouma-kun… I wonder what the truth about you really is…

Saihara’s thoughts were interrupted by a strong hand on his shoulder.

“You coming with us or what, bro?” Momota asked.

“H-Huh? Sorry, where are we going?” Saihara stuttered, still a bit dazed from being so deep in thought.

“To the dining hall! I’m starving!”

Saihara smiled and stood up, walking to the dining hall with the other two. Whatever the truth about Ouma was, it would have to wait until he decided to leave his room. For now, Saihara was content to spend time with his two best friends.

[entwinedmoon]

John Torrington: A Portrait of the Stoker as a Young Man

(Previous posts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8)

Different forms of art have depicted Torrington in different ways. In my last post I discussed how in music Torrington seems to be depicted as either some sort of restless spirit or reanimated man-out-of-time, with a focus on his death and the eerie undead appearance of his mummified body. There’s not much of a focus on what he was like when he was alive, with the inspiration for these works coming from the image of his dead body. Sadly, we don’t have any pictures of what he looked like when he was alive, but that doesn’t mean people haven’t tried to imagine it. In fact, Torrington’s depiction in visual artworks often focus more on what he was like when he was alive, with various attempts at reconstructing what he may have looked like before he died and was buried on Beechey.

One of the first attempts at recreating what he may have looked like comes from the Nova documentary “Buried in Ice.” At the very end of the documentary, there are artistic reconstructions of Torrington, Hartnell, and Braine. I’m not entirely sure who the artist was, but the credits list an illustrator, Wayne Schneider, and he may have been the one to draw these. I can’t find the illustrations outside of the documentary, so please forgive the bad quality of the screenshot I had to use below.

Here we have a John Torrington who looks aged before his time. He was only twenty when he died, but judging by the state of his lungs, he probably had a hard life, so he may have looked much older than his years. This is a very serious-looking Torrington, as if he were standing for a portrait or daguerreotype for several minutes and had to stay completely still.

This drawing also gives him almost shoulder-length hair. Owen Beattie was a technical consultant on the documentary, so he probably had a say in what the recreations of the Beechey Boys may have looked like. This makes me think that the hair length shown here is most likely how long his hair actually was. Yes, I know, I’m going on about his hair again, but due to the confusion over what his hair looked like, it tends to vary across artistic depictions, as we shall see.

Another thing of note in this recreation is the noticeable lines around his mouth. In the pictures of Torrington’s mummified body, there are prominent lines around his mouth, but how much of that was due to postmortem distortions and how much would have shown on his face in life is hard to know. The artwork above is not an official forensic facial reconstruction, and even official reconstructions are highly subjective, so this is just one possible interpretation.

There’s another artistic interpretation of Torrington from around the same time. Remember the children’s book Buried in Ice? Well, what’s a kid’s book without some illustrations?

Now that’s the face of a man who got sick of backbreaking, lung-destroying labor in Manchester and said, “Screw it, I’m going to the Arctic.” The hair here is similar to that depicted in the documentary illustration, but the lines around his mouth are softened. The illustrations for this book were done by Janet Wilson, and she brought a liveliness to Torrington’s face that the somber drawing from the documentary greatly lacked. He still has a slightly careworn face, but he looks closer to his actual age. Janet Wilson also did wonderful detailing on the shirt that he was buried in, which he is wearing in her drawing. The kerchief tied around his head in death is here tied around his neck—and I love the inclusion of the blue border around the kerchief, which is not really noticeable in the photos from his exhumation but is noted in the reports on his burial clothes.

I’m fond of this picture because it gives Torrington some personality beyond that of a sad, tragic victim. It makes him seem like a real person who lived, with a bit of a sly and carefree attitude. He also gives off a kind of back alley salesman vibe, like he knows a guy who knows a guy who could sell you a kidney. But I especially like it because he’s smiling as he’s speaking, and after seeing picture after picture of Torrington’s frozen death grimace, I would love to know what he looked like when he smiled.

There’s another artistic reconstruction which I found on YouTube. It’s by artist M.A. Ludwig, who has a YouTube channel (under the name JudeMaris) dedicated to facial reconstructions of various historical figures, including all three of the Beechey Boys. Here’s Ludwig’s interpretation of what Torrington may have looked like:

He looks much younger here than in either of the two previous interpretations. This John Torrington looks like a young man ready for adventure, with hopes and dreams of a long future. He has slightly shorter hair in this interpretation, but also, he’s blond. I’ve noticed confusion online about the color as well as length of Torrington’s hair, with a lot of people these days thinking he’s blond. I think that may have something to do with the wood shavings he’s resting on in photos, which as I discussed in a previous post, some people have confused for his hair. I’ve also encountered a few versions of the usual photos of him where the lighting looks different, resulting in the few visible wisps of his hair looking much lighter than official reports have described them. Interestingly, the blond hair makes him look younger and gives him an innocent and almost naïve appearance, completely different from the sly, I’ve-got-a-bridge-to-sell-you Torrington from the children’s book.

Now I’m going to move on to an artist who is well known to Franklinites. Kristina Gehrmann (@iceboundterror​) is a German illustrator and graphic artist who specializes in works with a historical or fantasy setting. She has drawn many pictures inspired by the Franklin Expedition, and I have bought several of them from her shop on Etsy, including three different versions of the ships Terror and Erebus sailing in the Arctic or caught in the ice. Currently, those three pictures are on my wall next to a large painting I inherited from my grandparents of two non-Franklin-related ships that I pretend are Terror and Erebus anyway (I call this wall The Boat Place). Gehrmann also wrote and illustrated a graphic novel in German about the Franklin Expedition, Im Eisland, published in three parts and available through Amazon. But if, like me, you don’t speak German, Gerhmann has made an English translation, titled Icebound, available for free here.

Gehrmann has actually drawn two slightly different versions of Torrington, one of which is more like the artistic reconstructions shown above and the other is of a fictionalized Torrington in the graphic novel Im Eisland. I love both of her interpretations, but they are of two different styles. Let’s start with the graphic novel version.

Im Eisland uses a manga-like style, so this version of Torrington is based in that. It gives him a wide-eyed, youthful—and joyful—appearance (when he isn’t dying of consumption, of course). This is the happiest and liveliest Torrington I’ve seen. The manga art style results in some simplified features and a rather modern hairstyle, but there’s nothing wrong with using some artistic license to better convey the personality of a character.

Gerhmann’s other illustration of Torrington is possibly my favorite, even if it might not be the most accurate:

This is a lovely illustration, and it really plays up Torrington’s youth, making him look almost angelic. I’m going to be completely honest—he is very pretty. This version of Torrington is an incredibly handsome young lad, and if Torrington really looked like this, then I think he probably would have been very popular in life. I could go on, but I probably shouldn’t.

I also love the amazing detail on the shirt. You may have noticed some slight variations in these recreations when it comes to his shirt, and I think that’s due to the fact that his shirt looks downright complicated in the few pictures we have of it. There are horizontal stripes and vertical stripes. There’s a high collar and buttons and all these folds that it can be hard to see exactly what it looks like, and unfortunately there were no textile experts present during the exhumation, so there was no one to lay out the shirt and take a closer look at it before redressing and burying him. But every time someone gives their best attempt at figuring out the puzzle that is his shirt, I’m happy, and this one looks very close to how it may have actually looked. My one issue with this picture is that his hair is short and blond, which doesn’t fit the description provided in the autopsy report. But the facial features look true, so I tend to overlook that little nitpick.

This version of Torrington, by the way, is probably the most well-known interpretation. In fact, when you search for John Torrington on Google, this picture crops up:

I have even seen online articles about Torrington that use this picture as a reconstruction example. This is in no way an official reconstruction of him, but it is by far the most popular. (And yes, I bought a copy of this picture, too.)

While reconstructions of what Torrington may have looked like when alive are common among artists depicting him, there is some artwork that uses images of his mummified body as inspiration instead. Irish artist Vincent Sheridan has a gorgeous collection of work inspired by the Franklin Expedition. Several of these feature the mummy of John Torrington, including an etching aptly named “John Torrington.”

Torrington appears as a ghostly apparition in many of these prints, alongside the repeated imagery of a skull, two very physical signs of the human cost of the expedition. While most of the bodies of the men lost have yet to be found, their bones scattered or buried across King William Island, Torrington’s body is a stark reminder that this tragedy did happen, and that these men did die, not just vanish off the face of the earth. I’ve described Torrington as the poster boy for the expedition before, and here his death seems to represent the death of everyone who sailed with Franklin, his face a haunting piece of evidence for the fate that met them all.

Now, I’m not entirely sure how best to transition between that solemn reminder of death and this last piece of Torrington-inspired artwork that I would like to mention, so I’m just going to dive in. This next artwork also uses the image of Torrington’s mummy as inspiration, but in a completely different manner from Sheridan’s work. I refer, of course, to the John Torrington plushie.

This adorable little mummy plushie was created by craft artist Nancy Soares, aka sinnabunnycrafts on Etsy (@sinnaminie​). Whether you think a plushie of a mummified body is in good taste or not, you have to agree that this little guy is freakin’ cute. I might be slightly biased, though, because he was originally crafted for a custom request from my sister as a birthday present for me. But now anyone can buy him or his Beechey buddies. This little guy even made a special appearance during John Geiger’s presentation at the Mystic Seaport Museum’s symposium, Franklin Lost and Found.

I think the fact that there’s a plushie of John Torrington is amazing. People used to take pictures of the recently deceased and use their dead loved one’s hair in jewelry to remember them, so this isn’t that different. To me, at least, it’s a memento to honor him, reminding me that Torrington was more than just a boy who died but a boy who once lived as well.

It is also super adorable.

Next: Torrington as depicted in literature. Spoiler alert! He dies. A lot.

<<Back | Next >>

Torrington Series Masterlist

[zairapvrker]

the next generation // avengers!5sos pt. 2

Author’s Note: I’ve had this in my notes for a year now and finally decided to post this! Of course I wrote this right after IW so everything that happened after (Captain Marvel + Endgame trailers) isn’t included. I was inspired by this pic I saw on twitter and I don’t know who to credit for, if it’s you tell me! Also, I’m posting this in the next three days before Endgame ends me.

Warnings: time skip, swearing, angst, unedited.

you can find part 1 & 3 in the masterlist

In a matter of seconds, Calum had locked the training room and all of you were wondering around the compound.

«Alright so, I’ve been working on somethings» he clapped his hands once he was back walking side by side with his friends. Gesturing for them to follow, he led them into the lab.

«Holy fucking shit, man!» Michael exclaimed as soon as he saw what was laying on the table.

Luke flinched visibly, then he smiled a little. «I have to agree with you on this one»

You stifled a laugh, observing the suits intently. They looked like copies of the ones your parent’s had, yet different.

«I found my dad’s latest projects and updated them. Then I started putting together the suits using prototypes he left behind during his researches» Calum proudly said while watching the awe in our eyes while we studied the suits.

«And why exactly did you do this?» you said finally focusing on him, a wide smile still printed on your face.

«I had spare time» he shrugged and waved it off like it was nothing.

«Let’s go before I change my mind» Ashton announced, grabbing his suit and weapons.

All the while, things seemed to get worse for the world’s mightiest heroes.

They had successfully evacuated the area of all civilians, Thor, Tony, Sam and Rhodey were taking care of the main source of problems, while the rest of the team contained the army from escaping into the safe zone.

Or at least, tried to.

The scene you arrived to witness was not great, nonetheless you started making up a plan.

«I’ll go help my dad with that giant piece of alien ass» stated Calum. «Ash, you stay up on the roofs and shoot some arrows at that thing when I tell you to» the boy nodded in agreement, containing a laugh at his words.

«Tell me to, when exactly?» he asked then.

Calum rolled his eyes. «Fine, when we look like we might need some extra shooting where we can’t go. To your discretion»

Ashton finally held back his laugh and nodded in understanding.

«I think they might need help when some of the army escapes out of their reach. They’re not enough to stop them from going into the safe zone» you stated, just as one escaped Cap’s reach and ran, before Bucky shot him down.

All nodded in agreement. «Mike I’ll need you to come with me and web as many of them down as you can. Maybe throw in there some electric webs, or I don’t know, build a web wall to stop them?» you sounded a bit uncertain with that. Could he really make a web wall?

«You got it, Y/N» it was rare and quite strange to see the joyful boy so serious, but matters called for him to be.

«And I do what, stand there and watch?» asked Luke.

«Well, if you can use that shield as your father can you can go and help Y/N and Mike» Ashton instructed. «In case something goes wrong»

All nodded once again.

«Well, if we don’t die» started Cal, masking his face with his iron suit. «Our parents will kill us»

All smiled at that, knowing it was the truth, before sprinting into action.

You arrived with Michael near the borders of the zone that was being attacked, everything seemed calm, so you two ventured nearer to the fight.

«Mike, if you hear anything you have to tell me» he nodded. The boy had inherited all that were his father’s abilities and super hearing right now was a great advantage.

As you proceeded, Calum flied directly at the source of the fight, already searching for the way to shut it down.

On closer inspection, this thing only looked like some sort of alien technology - almost like a giant and fighting spaceship - and Calum knew instantly he only had to search for the “off button”.

«What the hell!» Tony screamed, startling the rest of the team that was listening from the comms.

«Stark, please, if it’s not something of vital importance-» started Steve, before being interrupted.

«Looks like our kids joined the fight» he simply said, looking down at his son who was fighting too, searching for something.

«She’s dead» simply added Natasha, knowing better than to look around for her daughter when she was surrounded by an alien army. She knew she could make it on her own, but worry washed over her anyway.

Meanwhile, Luke had gone in a different direction - after warning you and Mike - and was already fighting alongside with Peter, who was having some trouble since he was left alone taking care of escaping aliens in one zone.

«Guys, do you think they already know?» you asked as you were fighting against one of said aliens.

«I can basically see Mr. Stark refraining from killing Cal while focusing on the main problem» Ash almost laughed.

«Very funny» said Cal then. «Instead of laughing at my misfortune, do everyone a favour and please shoot an arrow in the back of this alien asshole»

It was tough, but you thought you were having it easier than the rest. You and Michael had done a good job at clearing the area from all the escaped members of the alien army, and were now near the center of the fight.

On the street opposite to the one you arrived from you could see Luke and Peter, meaning that they too had done a good job at clearing the opposite area.

«Guys, almost all of the army is now centered solely near the thing» informed Ashton from your comms. «Cal, have you found a way to stop it?»

«We’re working on it» he answered shortly.

You were still pretty far, but you could see him fight and work alongside his dad. That put a smile on your face. You were clearly distracted and before you could see it you could hear just a warning scream.

«Y/N!»

An alien had kicked you in the chest, causing you to fall to the ground. «Motherfucker» you muttered mostly to yourself as you stood up, dodging a punch.

You were throwing hits everywhere you could, but unfortunately you were doing more of a dodging work.

Suddenly, the alien fell to your feet. Your eyes shot up and you saw Bucky there with his gun. He nodded at you, before his aim drifted to another bunch of aliens.

Quickly, you made your way as close as you could get to the rest of the team.

«You alright?» Michael landed beside you, startling you a bit. «I tried to tell you but it was too late and-»

«Don’t worry Mike, Bucky took care of it» you flashed him a smile to ease his nerves. «Now it looks like Luke might need some help» you pointed where the blond boy was.

Peter was called to help elsewhere, near Bruce, and had reluctantly left him alone.

«You sure you’ll be okay?» he asked, but before you could answer the eyes of his suit widened and he pushed you aside as quickly as possible, going down with you, webbing an alien to the ground before an arrow shot him down. It took you both a second to get up on your feet.

«Thank you, now go!» you encouraged. He lingered a moment, before nodding and appearing the next alongside Steve’s son.

As the battle went on, you found your way near your mom and fought in her area.

Through the comms you knew that Calum and Mr. Stark were closer to a way to shut down the alien technology by the minute, that Michael and Luke with the help of Peter and the protection of your dad were setting as many web traps as possible so that Ashton, Clint and Sam could take care of the alien army easily.

«Hold on a little longer, we’re almost there» you could hear the tiredness in Cal’s voice, this battle was definitely taking longer than everyone expected.

«Please, hurry up» you muttered, as once again you dodged an alien weapon that was thrown at you. As you went to kick the alien that threw it your way, a burning feeling took over your left arm, making you wince in pain. Looking over, you noticed a wide gash. Deciding to ignore the feeling as best as you could you landed a blow right on its head, making it fall to the ground. Everyone seemed to be giving their fullest effort in order to finally win this over, but it seemed like it could last only much longer before any of you gave up.

«How the hell am I supposed to do that?» he shouted shocked. «You told me to go help with shooting at aliens!»

«We have two Spidermen, pick one and ask for a ride. Stop making such a fuss!» instructed Luke, shutting them both up.

Shortly after, you saw Clint’s son back up on the highest building in the zone, following Cal’s shouted directions.

It couldn’t have been longer than five minutes, before you heard a cheer through the comms and the order to leave towards the more isolated streets and alleyways.

«Why?» asked Michael halfway through his cheer of victory.

«Because if you don’t this fucking thing is gonna fall down on your head, you idiot» answered Calum. Their playful banter had always made you laugh.

He was right though, all the aliens fell down like they were dead as soon as the main one was shut down and now the giant spaceship like alien was starting to fall down too, piece by piece.

It was like watching a building crumble.

You ran through the dead bodies to the nearest alleyway that was safe enough to hide in. Catching your breath you noticed that also Luke and Michael were there, their backs resting on the opposite wall from the one you were resting against.

You smiled at them. It was over. You won. You were all alive and only had minor injuries. Just as Ashton ran into the alleyway too, standing beside you, Mike seemed to notice something off.

«Oh my fucking God, Y/N!» he stopped smiling as soon as his eyes landed on your arm. Luke did too and you watched as both their faces fell. You waved it off. «Don’t worry, it’s just a cut, it’s gonna heal»

«It looks really bad» the blond said, coming closer, followed by Mike and Ash - who was looking over worriedly.

Michael took off his mask, revealing his worried face. «We should hurry back» he said inspecting your wound.

Luke saw it before any of you did, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop it.

One last alien had stepped into the alleyway, what looked like a knife in his hand. The blond shouted something you couldn’t hear, pulling you into his chest as Michael webbed the alien to the ground.

An out of focus Ashton ran into action, shooting and arrow right through the alien’s head. The last you saw was Cal’s suit landing near you, his mask coming off as his horrified face was revealed to you.

Then it all went black.

[blaze-art]

Dearest Departed (And Returned): A Christophe/Ze Mole x Dorian

Notes:

.Contains OC x Canon, don’t like,don’t read

This is my first time writing Ze Mole (and Kenny),so If i screwed up his accent,I apologize

This takes place in an alternate timeline where Dorian was in South Park during the movie (in the regular timeline,she moves in during season 4) 

"Though I die..."

"Please don't go..."

"La Resistance lives on..." Holding Dorian's hand and smiling at her as she cradled his body in her arms, Christophe aka Ze Mole suddenly went limp and he let go, bite marks all over his skin, dripping with blood. He was dead, killed by guard dogs...all because a certain fatass didn't turn off the alarm. While the boys went along their merry way to stop Kyle's mom, she stayed behind. It took a moment for Dori to process what just happened, but when it hit her that her newly formed crush (that she just met) was gone,tears dripped from her eyes and onto Ze Mole's shirt. Picking him up with all her might and carrying him on her back, a tatic her friend Kiara taught her, she didn't want to just leave him there, she wanted to pay respects and bury him. Which she did so, in a part of the woods, as the whole war went down, under the noses of everybody, she used his shovel to dig a shallow hole, about two inches deep, so in the off chance that he does come back from death, he wouldn't have a difficult time digging himself out of his grave. After doing so, she laid his body gently in the hole, crossed his arms, and kissed his cheek one last time. "I will win this...we will win this...for you..."

Before leaving his makeshift resting place, she took out a piece of paper from the notebook in her backpack, wrote a little letter for him in her best handwriting (as it is usually sloppy,being that she commonly writes pretty fast), folded it into an envelope and gently laid it onto the dirt. She left shortly after, reluctantly of course, she looked back a few times before inserting herself back into the action, taking his shovel with him as a reminder... [Shortly after the war] Christophe opened his eyes, all he saw was darkness around him ,his body laying flat with his arms crossed, he pressed against the "ceiling" to have dirt fall onto his chest and exposing some light from where he touched, quickly but surely, he dug his way out of the darkness to see the bright sun beaming down, everything seemed so peaceful...Was it over? He didn't know what happened,all he remembered was being surrounded by hell fire and then, soon after, everything went white. He noticed a piece of paper in the shape of an envelope in front of him, opening it up and reading it, his heart fluttered and he smiled as he read... Dearest Christophe (or Ze Mole,if you prefer) "Even though we just met, I miss you dearly...I wish I told you sooner that I love you, when I saw you, to me, It was love at first sight (sounds cheesy,I know). Now that your gone...I worry i'll never know if you felt the same. If in the off chance that you are reading this, alive and well, or via your ghost, I was the one that buried you. I wanted to pay my respects, I couldn't just leave your body lying there. If you haven't already noticed, I took your shovel with me, as a reminder of you, If you want it back, come and see me, I may or may not have put it somewhere for safekeeping" "If you ever felt that nobody ever loved you, don't forget that I do..." "Te amo" (I love you) -Dorian <3 Dorian...It made his heart pound and cheeks blush, realizing that she loved him, going so far as to treat him so well even when he died, unlike the others, who had mild contempt for him at best (with the only other exception being Kyle) and utter disdain at worst. He wanted to see her again ,not only to tell her about his feelings, which he kept locked up for a long long while, but also to see if she was alright after the whole ordeal. Sure the peaceful looking scenery of the world did tell him everything was alright, but he wanted to make extra sure she was in good health. Getting up from his shallow grave, he left the woods to see his beloved Dori, the only problem is that she didn't enclose any address or really anything about her whereabouts, he had no clue where to find her. On his way to the town however, he ran into a familiar orange parka wearing blonde, they met when they were in hell, now both of them were walking the plane of the living once more. Mole felt maybe he knew what went down, since Kenny was the one to go to Satan while Mole stayed behind. "Hey there Mole, good to see you alive and kicking again" Kenny greeted him, hands in his parka pockets. "Kenny...what 'ze hell happened?" Christophe asked puzzled. "It's a bit of a long story, so i'll sum it up, I wished for Satan to bring everything back to normal, and he did. "I see..." Mole replied with a subtle grateful tone. Kenny looked down at the paper Christophe was holding "What's that?" he asked, pointing to it.  "Oh, 'eet's a letter from Dorian, she left it on my grave that she buried me in" Mole answered "Any idea where she could be?" he asked, hoping to get some insight on her location. Kenny shook his head, but his face brightened with an idea. "Instead of you coming to her, we can have her come to you. Think of it as a little surprise, imagine the look on her face when she sees you" Kenny suggested. "After all, she did make a grave for you, there's no doubt she would visit it" he added with sincerity. "'Sounds good to me" Christophe agreed to Kenny's idea. [A few hours later] School was done for the day, normally Dorian would just waltz on home so she could play her favorite video games, watch videos, and draw. But this time, and all the times afterwards...things would be a little different. She walked along the grass lined path of the woods, like clockwork, she knew exactly where she needed to go. Holding a bunch of flowers she picked that day from the fields outside the school, she strolled towards the grave of her beloved Christophe, who knew someone you only knew for a while leave such an impact on you? When she arrived, she was met with a sight that made her heart stop for a bit. The letter she left was missing and the hole was uncovered. Part of her wanted to believe what she'd hoped for, but a nagging part of her brain made the conclusion that his grave was robbed, she felt like she let him down when she felt a little tap on her shoulder. Quickly she turned her head,expecting to be told the terrible news at best and be attacked at worst. What she saw made her heart stop once again, then beat so fast, it felt like it was going to jump out her chest. "Mon cheri...I'm back..."

As soon as he said that Dori hugged him so fast, crying tears of joy into Ze Mole's chest. Christophe patted her on the back in with a comforting and glad grin. "I-I don't know what to say...I....I'm so happy to have you back!" Dori said through her joyful tears. However her expression dimmed with doubt "Wait...is this real? Or...Or am I dreaming?" She asked with uncertainty, half of her was expecting she would wake up in the classroom to the sound of nothing but Mr. Garrison's lecture. Ze Mole gave her a reassuring smile, "No, mon amor, 'zis is very much real..." he replied softly. In an instant Dorian's face sprang back to pure exuberance. "Thank the stars you're alive!" she exclaimed with cheerfulness. "Don't thank them, Mon cher, thank Kenny" he told her, looking at Kenny, who was standing close by, winking at Dorian and grinning. "Thank you so much! I am eternally grateful, how can I ever repay you?" She thanked with such gratitude after realizing that what he did brought reunited the two again. "No need" Kenny replied with much humility. "Te amo, amica mea" Dorian professed affectionately  ("I love you, my darling" in Latin) "Je t'aime aussi, mon cher" Ze mole responded lovingly ( "I love you too, my dear" in French) Then the two kissed, then pulled apart for air. It was only for a few seconds, but to them, it felt like minutes had gone by.  "By 'ze way...do you still have my shovel?" Christophe asked "Oh! Yes! It's in my room, we can go fetch it if you want" Dori answered, remembering that she kept his shovel with her. And so,the two lovebirds sauntered over to Dorian's house, their hands intertwined with each other, and so a love bloomed that day, a love that would have ceased to be if it weren't for a certain immortal blonde.

[sethrine-writes]

Come What May - Ch. 3

Pairing:  Captain America/Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Words:  2685

Warnings:  Violence

Summary: There’s quite a few coincidences that happen throughout anyone’s lifetime. It just so happens that you’re experiencing far too many in a short span of time to be considered mere coincidence - and others are also beginning to take notice. Just how many times can Captain America actually save you before things take a turn for the worst?

A/N:  Three days in a row? How lovely! I’m far from a consistent updater, however, so daily updates won’t be a normal. I just have a pretty good backlog of chapters, and I’m eager to keep the story rolling!! Remember, you can suggest a one-word or small phrased prompt, or even an idea for a future chapter!

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Chapter 3 - Déjà Vu

A little over a week had gone by since the incident at the bank, and everything had seemingly gone back to normal. Well, mostly normal.

You refused to stop into a bank for the time being, choosing, instead, to do online transactions until you regained some comfort in being inside one. Andrew, at least, was happy with this decision.

Just as you had suspected, Jennet was more than understanding and had given you three days off, of which you attempted to argue was too much, but there was no changing the woman’s mind. The break was good for you, as it allowed you to feel comfortable in your own skin once more, but you sure were ready to get back to work.

As it was, you were on your lunch break on a Friday, deciding to pop into the little family-owned and operated sandwich shop just down the street from your place of employment. It was a good place, one you would easily recommend anyone who asked, and the owners were just the best. They took the time to know their customers on a personal level, of which made the place feel like home.

First thing you stepped into the shop, you were instantly greeted with warm smiles and a happy call of your name. If anyone noticed the slight yellowing of a bruise against your cheekbone, no one called attention to it.

“Ah, it’s so nice to see you again! The usual?”

“Sounds good, Maury.”

You chatted with the man as he and his wife set about preparing your order, finding out that his daughter was pregnant with her first child, the third grandchild out of their four kids. Business was good, as you suspected, their car had finally been paid off, and Jesse said hello and wanted to know if you were still single, of which you answered honestly, but had to kindly decline any sort of courtship.

“It’s okay, we understand,” Cathleen assured you with a wave of her hand. “He’s a no-good noodle, anyway, stubborn and hardheaded, like a brick.”

By the time you were out the door, you had been coerced into taking a small cup of soup along with your sandwich of choice, free of charge. You were thoroughly flustered, though you were happy with all the new information and well wishes thrown your way.

The rest of your day was filled with good vibes, and by the time you signed out of the network and gathered your things, you were in a grand mood. Maybe you’d grab a bottle of wine on your way home, have a nice bath and watch bad crime videos to end such a lovely day.

The closest convenience store was just right around the corner from your apartment, and they just so happened to carry your preferred choice of wine. You made your way there with a little bounce in your step, entering with a smile and a polite wave to the cashier on duty. He looked bored to be there, but at least he was attentive to the other shoppers when they approached him.

Your attention turned to the aisles as you made your way toward the back area where beer and other alcoholic beverages were stored. You scanned the selection of wines, face lighting up when you saw a full stock of your favorite brand on the second shelf. It was a bit on the pricey side, even for a convenience store, but it was good, and after such a delightful day (and a previously hellish one over a week ago), you deserved a good bottle.

With wine in-hand, you made your way to the checkout counter, having been caught behind three others, the woman checking out holding a fussy looking baby. As she made to swipe her card, the baby let out a startling cry, causing the man in front of you to step back in surprise, and you, in turn, doing the same.

By accident, you bumped into someone behind you, unaware that there had been someone there.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…mean…oh.”

When you turned with your apology quick on your tongue, you were met with a familiar, scowling face, though his eyes were much more amused than seething, this time around. Faintly, you could feel your still-bruised cheek give a dull pang in remembrance.

Well, shit.

This was not the sort of déjà vu you ever wanted to experience.

“Hello there, sugar. Why don’t me ‘n you take a walk?”

“I’d rather not, but thanks.”

“You don’t got a choice, I’m afraid,” he said liltingly, pulling out a gun from his coat pocket.

Well, at least he learned to keep a hold of it, this time. Not that doing so was helping you any in this situation, but good on him. He was learning. Just as you would probably soon learn never to go into any building ever again, lest you wanted to have a gun pointed at you.

With a shaky breath, you gripped the bottle in your hand tightly and followed your captor’s movement, his gun pressed firmly to your back as he led you with it to the exit. Just as you opened the door, the cashier called out to you, annoyance apparent in his words.

“Ma’am, you have to pay for that. Please, don’t make me call the cops.”

“Let’s not do that, now,” your captor replied with a wicked smile, grabbing your arm firmly as he positioned the gun on the cashier and shot. Screams of terror rang throughout the store as other customers ducked down, making themselves as small as possible. You looked on in horror at the splatter of blood against the wall, hoping beyond all hope that the man wasn’t dead.

“Anyone else have a problem with the lady leaving?” your captor called out, pointing his gun at the others in the vicinity. “No? Good, then we’ll be on our merry way.”

The gun was pressed once again to your back as the man led you out of the store and into the chilly night.

“Alright, sugar, keep moving,” he ordered as he all but shoved the barrel against you, the hard press of metal a clear reminder that you were one of the unluckiest ladies in the city at that moment. Oh, and you were probably going to die this time.

“You didn’t have to shoot that man,” you spoke up, but not too loudly. You had already almost been shot once by this man due to your snarky mouth, and you weren’t planning on pushing him over the edge.

“He was bein’ mouthy, wastin’ my time, and I got somewhere to be.”

“Surely it’s nowhere I need to be,” you said almost hopefully, though the following laughter was enough to stop all wishful thinking.

“On the contrary, you were personally requested to attend. As much as I’d love to pay ya back for that fuck-up you caused me and my crew at the bank, orders are orders. Now, keep your mouth shut. I may not get to kill ya myself, but I ain’t afraid to hurt ya.”

You did as he said, keeping quiet for the remainder of the trip to wherever he was leading you. As you walked, you contemplated all the information you had gotten from him.

He wasn’t the leader, after all, just another lackey in control of even lesser ones and following orders from someone higher up. Whoever it was, they knew who you were and wanted you alive, apparently. Probably so they could kill you on their own for messing up whatever job they had their men attempting to execute.

Your captor led you on in silence for another two blocks, turning from a semi-busy street down a dark alley. He stopped you with a firm jerk to your arm before a rusted metal door that looked like the back entrance to what you could only assume to be some sort of club, judging by the dull thumping of base from beyond the brick walling. He gave the door three firm hits with his fist and waited.

No one answered.

“Fuck, those idiots! Where the hell are they?”

He gave three more hits to the door and waited, once again facing the same outcome. He was quickly becoming angry.

“Why the fuck do I need to be here if they ain’t gonna show?”

His fist made contact with the door harshly, the metal denting slightly with the effort put behind the hit. The sound caused you to jump back, the bottle of wine in your hand almost slipping from your grasp.

“Whelp, looks like there’s a change of plans,” he said suddenly, forcing you to turn and face him. There was a joyful glimmer in his eyes as he pointed the gun at your face, your eyes widening at the turn of events.

“Since no one wants to show, guess I get to do what I wanted to, in the first place. Any last words, sugar?”

Oh, shit, this was it. You were going to die. You were going to die after such a good day, all because of a messed-up day you had at the bank over a week ago. This man, whoever he was, however he got out of whatever imprisonment he was being held in, had somehow found you and was now going to kill you over a stupid, clumsy moment you had.

Well, might as well die with some sort of dignity.

You swallowed thickly as you shook your head, eyes on the verge of closing so you wouldn’t have to see the flash of the barrel.

Something moved from behind your captor, a large, tall something on two legs, moving towards you slowly, almost cautiously.

“S-someone’s behind you,” you muttered quietly, your words breaking as your lips trembled with pent-up fear. The man before you scoffed, clearly not caring for your words.

“Not fallin’ for that one again, sugar. Ain’t anyone around to save you this ti-“

“Hey, you, what’s going on?”

Your captor turned to glance at the source of the voice, his arm lowering the gun a fraction to hide it from view. He was distracted, clearly not in the mood for company, but if you didn’t do something quick, the other guy would possibly be dead, too.

In a fit of courage, bravery, possibly stupidity, you called out to the other man.

“Get out of here, he’s got a gun!”

Your captor turned to you and gave an angry grunt as he turned to face the other man obscured in the shadows of the alley, gun poised to shoot.

“Sorry, buddy, no witnesses allowed!”

Before your captor even had a moment to think about pulling the trigger, you wrapped both hands around the neck of the wine bottle you’d been holding and swung with all your might, the glass connecting with the side of his head and shattering as it sent him crashing into the wall. The contact was enough to knock him out, his gun falling from his limp hand with a clatter against the grimy cement and gravel.

“Oh God, oh my God,” you began chanting as you nearly collapsed from the rush of adrenaline leaving your body, instead leaning heavily against the brick wall of the nearest building. The man who had found himself upon this unfortunate situation quickly rushed to your side, a warm hand gently taking hold of your upper arm to steady your swaying form.

“Are you alright, ma’am? Did he hurt you?”

You looked up at the man, at the sound of a familiar voice, and couldn’t help but laugh at the concerned and very surprised blue eyes staring down at you.

Wow, this really was déjà vu, wasn’t it?

“I’m fine, Captain,” you said, side-eyeing the unconscious man lying on the ground. “He didn’t hurt me, but…there��s a convenience store clerk who he shot, about three or four blocks back on 35th and Archwell. God, I hope he made it.”

“Alright, give me a moment,” he said, pulling out his cell and calling the police, giving the locations of both the convenience store and the alleyway you both stood in, making sure they knew that a medic would be required for both locations. When he replaced his phone, his gaze was back on you.

“Are you sure you’re fine? I can take you to the nearest hospital, or we can wait until the police show.”

“No, I’m fine, promise. I just…wow, this has been the scariest and strangest two weeks of my life, let me tell you.”

You let out a long breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your eyes shifting to that of the gun, glinting ever so slightly from the lights at the end of the alley. You turned to the good Captain then, eyes roaming over him in concern.

“Are you okay? He didn’t shoot you, did he? It was so stupid what I did, I know, but I didn’t want him to hurt you, too. And I figured, hey, I guess I could waste a perfectly good bottle of wine against his head-”

“He didn’t shoot me,” he assured with a small smile stopping your ramblings. “I guess you saved my life this time.”

“I did say I owed you one,” you blurted out without really thinking, a moment of silence passing between you before you let out a chuckle, the man before you doing the same.

A sudden shift from your unconscious captor had you shooting up from the wall and right into the arms of your blue-eyed savior, his hands securely latching themselves around your waist as he shifted between you and the dangerous man. Your captor moved a bit more, but did not wake from the slumber you sent him into, his mind possibly too deep in shock from the good smacking it received.

You gave a relieved chuckle as you leaned your forehead against the muscular chest before you, finding comfort in the small contact.

There was a sudden flashing of red and blue light coming from the entrance of the alley, signaling that the police had arrived. They were quick to apprehend your captor while having a medic view him before a stretcher was issued to carry him away, most likely to the hospital until he regained consciousness. All the while, the good Captain held you close, ensuring the medics that you were fine, just shaken up.

As the police began wrapping up the happenings, asking the Captain brief questions about the incident, he looked to you with mild apprehension.

“Is there anything you need, anything I can do for you?”

“I just…I would really like to go home, now.”

“Of course. Do you mind if I…escort you back, then? I think I’d feel better knowing you got home safely. Or if you’d rather an officer, I could-”

“Please do,” you answered before he could finish his sentence, pulling away, save for your arms around one of his, as he led you out of the alley.

He was a complete gentleman the whole way, asking light questions to get your mind off what had just occurred, something of which you were grateful for. It felt like no time at all when you both turned on your street and entered the building that housed your apartment, catching the elevator to the third floor where you guided him to the last door on the right.

He stayed until the very last second, wishing you a good night and waiting until you had your door shut and locked before leaving. With his exit, he left behind a peace of mind you had lost over an hour ago.

After a long, hot shower and two shots of cinnamon whiskey your brother had gotten you last Christmas, you were more than ready for bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, dreams easy and plagued by only a kind smile and lovely blue eyes.

The next morning, you found out on the news that the convenience store clerk was going to be okay.

------

Tag List:  @just4muggles, @achishisha, @pinnedandneedled

[arielleyoga-blog1]

Positivity

When I first decided I wanted to write a blog, I asked my instagram buddies what topic’s they’d like to hear about. And one that I got more than once was “How are you always so positive?” 

Which was surprising to read more than once, as well as flattering. One of my friends, who I think is the bubbliest sweetest angel on earth specifically said “Even when you’re having a hard day or going through a tough time you’re so positive and joyful. How?!”

And it got me thinking...am I actually that positive of a person? And if so, just like they asked...how? I think the first part has to do with my natural disposition: I have always been a super sweet kid. I always cared about other people, and animals (animals more duh), and have ever since I was little really seen the good in everyone and wanted the best. That’s definitely just part of who I am, I think. However, it’s not all of who I am.

I mentioned in my last blog that I suffered from clinical depression in college. Before that, when I was young I had some body image issues and eating issues. I’ve always had issues feeling confident: in fact, this blog is really REALLY hard and scary for me. I just don’t feel like anyone cares. My mind instantly goes to “Why would anyone care? Who am I? I’m not special.” While it’s natural for me to see the good in others, it is also natural for me to see the not-good in myself. So the jump from that to depression took one thing: the death of my friend Scott Preston. 

Scott and I met freshman year in high school and we just clicked. We were definitely an odd pair of friends, but I saw the good in him and loved him very much.  He ended up leaving our school, but we stayed in touch and I’d go hang out with him sometimes at lunch or after school on the days I had my mom’s car. 

Scott smoked pot a lot: but so did a lot of my friends. I didn’t...yet. So it wasn’t a big deal or alarm for me. Scott also, like me, got migraines. So, one day when we were hanging out after I had surgery on my hand, he asked for my extra vicodin. Again, being the sweet-seeing the best in people-young girl that I was, I didn’t even think about it. Plus he said it was for his migraines. I gave him the vicodin. 

A week later, his dad came in and yelled at him about his grandmother’s medication being missing. After his dad walked out, he admitted he was taking her meds from her. All I could muster up was “Scott, you shouldn’t do that. You should be careful.” And about a month later, he crashed his Dodge Ram into a tree almost killing himself and his friend. He went into rehab and I just kept waiting to call. Feeling responsible somehow. My feelings of guilt for not saying more kept me from calling. And my need to be liked and not upset people is what kept me from saying more that afternoon when I had the chance. 

I talked about him to my new college friends, and really was planning on calling him soon. And then, I got a phone call that Scott was dead. And I took it all on as my fault. I became incredibly depressed and was in danger of seriously hurting myself. I got help, saw a therapist who sent me to a psychiatrist and got put on medication. Then more medication. Which made me numb. But not depressed. When I smoked pot it brought me up enough that I was my old self. But I didn’t want to be taking antidepressants and smoking pot to feel normal. So, I made the decision when I ran out of meds to just not renew my prescription knowing that the chances of my depression coming back was pretty much 100%. 

And guess what? I was right, I relapsed. And something else happened in my life that was pretty terrible. But I remember that when that second event occurred I said “Losing Scott took me to a dark place, and I will not give this other person the honor to mean as much to me as Scott did and pull me back. I’ll get through this.” I talked A LOT about my feelings. I journaled. I did yoga. And I let myself cry when I wanted to. Eventually, I came up for air. I personally give yoga all the credit: But I think my willpower had a lot to do with it too.

Ever since then, it truly has been a “It’s not worth it to go back there” mentality to me. I know what it’s like to want to end it, I know what it’s like to hurt yourself, I know what it’s like to live in this dark cloud where you feel nothing but sad and empty. And life is too short to live that way. 

So how do I stay positive? Well, I constantly focus on the things I HAVE!

We live in a culture that thrives off of us being in a “lack” mentality. Like sheep. “I don’t have time” is usually the thought when we wake up. I don’t have energy, I don’t have enough money, I’m not skinny enough...when I make this much money or have this phone or this car...blah blah bullshit. YOU HAVE SO MUCH. 

I always focus on the gifts of my life: which truly are plentiful. I’m healthy. I have use of my limbs. I can breathe without machines. I live in a country that for the most part allows me as a woman to LIVE (right now some horrible stuff is happening in the South and Midwest) but: I was able to get an education. I went to the top public college in the country UCLA, thanks to loans that I’m still paying off, grants, and work study. I work hard and I am grateful I get to work. I get to vote. I can wear whatever I want. I have a strong amazing mom that supports me even when she doesn’t agree with me. My list goes on!

And when things have gotten bad: like when my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer and my whole world came crumbling down, I found a way through. I cried, I was scared.  I journaled and I prayed and I thanked God for finding it early and for giving us the opportunity to get her healthy. I focused not on my fear or her cancer, but on her recovery even before we knew if that was a thing. I was thankful I had friends that I could call when she told me so they could rally around me for support. That bought groceries and meals for us, that helped ME get through it: because as an only child of a single parent it was a lot to handle. It’s a lot to handle no matter what: it’s cancer. I was thankful that I had the ability to work through my fear and sadness at my job. Teaching yoga helped me, and even more so being able to talk with my students about it: in fact, one class two of my student’s asked me straight up what was going on: Mellisa and Heather. And they both had dealt with very similar things and were there for me. What a blessing!  Now, every time...okay, not EVERY, but almost every time I get frustrated or annoyed with my mom, I remind myself that I’d rather her be here alive and healthy to drive me nuts than for her to be gone. I’m so grateful she’s cancer-free now! Oh moms! 

I focus on the good. It’s a HABIT you have to cultivate, like working out and eating well. BUT it makes it so when you get in a car accident: you’re grateful it wasn’t worse. So when you’re in traffic: you’re grateful you have a vehicle and a place to go. When somebody is a dick: you’re grateful you aren’t them and don’t treat people like that. 

Things can ALWAYS be worse. And for me, they have been. So what a gift it is to have this moment, and to choose to focus on how fortunate I am and how much I have.

I make a conscious decision to live life through a lens of gratitude and abundance, not of lacking. You can do that, too! I know the best way to start, is to every single day think of 5 things you’re thankful for. You can do it in the morning in bed, or before bed in a gratitude journal, OR BOTH! Also: tell your friend’s you appreciate them out of the blue. When you put that good out there, it comes back to you!

And that doesn’t mean I don’t get sad or mad. But when I do, I just let that happen. I feel it, because that’s important. I’ll usually vent to my husband or one of my best friends. And then eventually, I breathe and let it go and focus on the good. It’s not always easy. There are times where my mind is like “yes I know this could be worse...” but my heart is still upset. But eventually, you get there.

Also, sometimes, I think of a friend I’ve lost-like the amazing Laura Allio. And if I’m about to complain about something, I remember how much I wish she were alive to be able to bitch about it...and also that she wouldn’t. And that it’s a gift to even be able to complain, or move my body when I’m tired, to have a job to have to go to...yada yada. And that will get me right back on track. 

My mom always used to say to me growing up (because she had quite an emotional daughter that cried a lot) “Is this going to bother you in 3 days? In 3 weeks? In 3 months? THEN LET IT GO!’ lol And she's right. As mom’s tend to be. Most of the things we get SO bogged down by, don't affect us a few days later. So why let it taint the day you’re living now? Another thing I did that was SO helpful with journaling are mantra meditations. So I pick a few mantra’s I like and I play some binaural beats from youtube. I sit with my eyes closed. I inhale, and on my exhale I say the mantra. Sometimes out loud. Sometimes in my head. Certain mantras will INSTANTLY create a smile. Here are some of my favorites:

 “I deserve love.”

“I am the light.”

“My income is constantly increasing.”

“I allow my life to move with ease and joy.”

If you haven't heard of Louise Hay, I HIGHLY SUGGEST looking her up. One of her go-to’s is to say “I love you (enter your name here)” while looking in the mirror. She has an amazing little book called “Heal your body” where she gives you mantras for actual ailments your body! It’s AMAZING! I’m thankful for you. For your support. For your time. For reading this. For being here in the world. Remember to choose to look at how abundant you are! I mean, you’re reading a blog on the internet right now! WHAT IS THAT?! There are people in this world that don’t even have clean water, not to mention the ability to sit somewhere (because so help me god if you are driving I will come after you) and read a blog post about positivity!

Thank you thank you! 

[coffee-for-himchan]

Warm On The Inside (Himchan) // “With You” series, pt.1

First part of the winter-themed 6 scenario series called “With You”. Featuring a thing I love and a thing I don’t love at all - coffee and snow. I doubt it’s hard to figure which one I hold a grudge against, even if not a too big one.

Summary: Snow was everywhere, which was about the worst there could be. With your body beyond frozen but your heart even colder, it wasn’t hard to hate everything around. Until you bumped - literally - into another, just like you. Someone a little frozen on the inside, but more than that - not keen on snow. Someone who just happened to make all around melt.

Part 1(Himchan) // Part 2 (Yongguk) // Part 3 (Jongup) // Part 4 (Daehyun) // Part 5 (Youngjae) // Part 6 (Junhong)

You'd always hated the snow.

It wasn't a burning disgust towards the white flakes that were twirling through the chilly, cool air, coating the earth in an innocent-looking, pure layer of hopefulness - it was rather mild disappointment at the fact your favorite time of year had passed, and all that was left now was to wait until the very last bits of winter wonderland would fade away and would reveal the ground underneath once again - maybe the feeling of being cold would fade with along with winter too.

Although this thing you felt in your chest was a whole other type of "cold". Not the cold you could feel when stepping out of the house in non-seasonal attire, and not the type of cold you could mend and cure with something as simple yet inviting as a heater or a fireplace.

"Feeling cold on the inside" - that's about how good you could describe it. Unwilling to open up. Frozen in your tracks when it came to getting to know people, because encounters had never resulted in anything good. Unable to crack a smile. Tired of every new day, even more tired of remembering all the ones that had already passed. Empty. Devastated. Drained of emotion.

Cold all over the soul, not bothering to actually pay attention to the physical cold until your flesh turned a light shade of pink, screaming bloody murder at every single touch of it and needing desperate attention in the form of anything that could possibly warm it up.

Simply unable to process. Needless to say, the winter didn't help.

It was supposed to be a pretty time - kids playing around outside, families gathering together for the festive days. Going gift shopping and picking the best presents for the people you loved the most, just to remind them once again with a subtle hint that you cared. Eating the best festive foods and drinking warm, seasonal beverages just because hey, why not, since it’s all here already? Sweaters and coffee as familiar melodies flooded all places, calling out for everyone to be joyful. Hopeful promises as laughs filling the air. A good time for almost everyone, yet you knew what the snow neatly coated and hid under itself, and couldn’t be fooled like the others.

It hid nothing but the plain, painful truth.

Everything under it was dead and drained, and it was just a cover up. The beautiful that hid the tragedy, the innocent mask on the face of the aching truth. The perfect hide-up for all the caused destruction. For all the wilting nature had to experience after the last wave of late autumn heat had gone with the wind, for all the dying of flowers and such as they encountered with the cold and simply froze, saying goodbyes to the sun for what seemed to be forever. For all the trees that rose like painfully sharp daggers up into the skies now, without showing any signs of being alive, and for all the creatures that could only manage to survive in the warmer months of the year, having died without a chance of survival.

You refused to be fooled by this cover-up. And refused to like it for reminding you of how frozen you were yourself, so you never even intended to pretend to like it, same as you refused to unnecessarily leave the house during this season. 

That is, until you met him.

He was just the same as you when it came to this aspect - you could hear him hissing lightly every time a snowflake hit the nape of his neck, gracefully falling past the collar of his fluffy coat, and you chuckled lightly as you saw his nose and ears turning a light shade of pink, signaling he needed to stop putting his body through the torture of being outside when the thermometer displayed a negative number on itself.

He was just like you, and for the first time in years you felt how truly melting someone’s presence could be.

He was far from being the grumpy person he sometimes seemed like - he was rather a little closed in. Being social and talkative was usually his forté, he had admitted to that at some point, but things weren't going all that good in life recently, and he simply wanted to take it easier. Realizing a lot of those people he had around every day didn't matter, as they never came back to him when he wasn't just out having fun, but was out having troubles. Figuring out he didn't need that many different faces to fill up his everyday life as they never really were of any significance, and would only eventually either forget him or cause him pain. He just needed a pause from everyone, or, well - almost everyone, as while taking it, he had more or less luckily stumbled into you. And something in his chest had told him that taking a pause from you was about the most wrong and absurd thing he could do.

He bumped into you. Literally.

Three times.

The first was at a zebra crossing in what seemed to be the very dusk of morning, since the sun rose so late at this point of year. Work was only a few blocks away from your house, and while everyone seemed to prepare for the holidays, you were planning on taking a few extra assignments. "While all of you get a round of soul-healing, I'll at least get a promotion," you thought, and scolded yourself for sounding harsh even in your thoughts, but only for a little. It wasn't far from being the truth anyways.

It was only a mere encounter, a little interaction, yet it turned out to be something that would occupy your mind for a little. The foggy atmosphere made it hard for you to see the traffic light, but as it turned green and you set your foot on the street, you slightly shoulder-bumped into someone while in the middle of the rather crowded crossing.

The stranger, being much taller and of a significantly more massive built than you were, turned his head while walking past, and you were a little disappointed to, despite all of that, not catch a proper glimpse of his face.

But his voice, low and with a little mixture of melodic and nasal, crawled in through your ear and made itself at home, lingering in your head for a little longer as you hadn’t heard another like that one yet.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's.. Alright."

The second time was at a coffee shop. Lunch break had you on the edge of your nerves, as well as everything else that day. Too bad that unnecessary diet you'd gone on was still a thing, and since you craved something you couldn't quite eat, you got a little frustrated and simply opted in for coffee and nothing else instead.

It was another bump into you, this time around from behind, while standing in line to order a drink. And, once again, you heard it.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

You turned to inspect his face, and all of a sudden felt your cheeks heating up. He was a little taken aback, just like you were, but the little smile on his face indicated he was glad coincidence had brought you together again. “He remembers,” you thought to yourself, a little puzzled on what was so memorable about your voice only that it had stayed to linger in his mind for longer. But then again, what was it about him that had stuck in your mind? You figured that maybe he’d thought about you too, the same way you’d thought about him for a bit earlier today.

But all other thoughts faded away as you looked at his features, and understood you'd never seen someone as genuinely pretty as him. It sure set a sense of uneasiness into you, as you felt a little insignificant and out of place here with him. Yet when the smile stayed plastered on his petite, doll-shaped lips, and a cute little dimple-like crease formed right under his eye, you felt like there was nothing to worry about. 

"Twice already today, am I right?"

"I suppose, yes."

"Not to bother you with my presence, but I'm simply rather on the clumsy side, and the universe must've chosen you as my next victim," he said, and you chuckled a little, covering your mouth with your hand as a reflex. He sure knew how to make himself seem interesting from the very first few words spoken.

"I don't mind," you replied, looking up at his face and feeling your heart fluttering a little, "After all, it doesn't bother me. Better bump into me that someone who might get offended by it. Or won't take it well."

"So I can keep doing this?"

"Sure," you chuckled a little, making him chuckle along. Gosh, even the way his whole body moved while laughing was so eye-catching, and you were a little taken aback by the lack of stares directed at him. He radiated such a sense of warmth and simple joy with his presence, and you felt yourself enjoying it.

"Would you like to order now, miss?"

The voice of the barista brought you back to reality, and you hoped she wouldn't think of you as annoying for talking while standing in line, not even noticing how it was your turn to order all of a sudden. Yet when you turned her face displayed none of that - it rather screamed "Yes, agreed. He's cute as hell. Do something about it or I might."

"Mocha, please," you shyly told her, seeing as her gaze wandered from you to him and she thought of what to say.

"And you?"

“Mocha as well, if that’s alright, please," you felt him leaning over, resting his frame on the arm that he'd extended to place his hand on the counter, just a little behind you. It occurred to you that the barista must've thought you two had come in here together, and that made you blush even more.

His presence was quite comfortable, yet burdening. Like a ray of sunshine he had managed to blind you with a mere look, and you felt a little stupid, a little happy because of it. And as your mind kept wandering this wasteland of what used to be feelings once, the barista had already approached with two coffees in hand.

"I'll get it," you heard him say, and wanted to insist, yet felt a little embarrassed to do so. There were people behind you two in the line, and the barista was still giving you a rather curious and interested yet nice and loving look. So he paid, and handed you a cup, offering you to go and sit down with him for a moment before he'd have to depart - apparently, work was quite demanding, and he shouldn't stay around at all. But he liked this place, and his new company, so he'd decided to gift himself with some fifteen free minutes to get into a little bit of trouble afterwards. He figured it could be worth it.

"You really shouldn't have," you told him, sitting down opposite of him and trying your best not to do any of the regular - to fall down, to say something wrong, snort while laughing, tell an inappropriate joke on the wrong time.. Basically, your aim was to make yourself seem normal.

"Let this be a "sorry" for all the bumping," he chuckled and took a sip, directing all of his attention on you as his head found a comfortable position to rest in on his hand.

Like a kitten, he was so cute when sitting across of you like that. Eyes slightly narrowed and lips a little puckered as he talked, filling the empty space between you two with a pleasant, nasally voice. His hands seemed rather large, and held the beverage in a funny fashion, making it seem so small when compared to how you held yours. Yet his love for coffee was the thing that amused you the most - so simply adorable, but most of all - so similar to you.

Fifteen minutes had gone with the wind way too soon, and he left you sitting alone to reflect of what had just happened. You watched his frame walking outside into the chilly street, and he turned, waving at you through the large windows lightly before disappearing within the masses of people. He was gone, yet the memory of him remained for a little longer as you recalled the last bits of conversation that had gone on just minutes ago.

"I never caught your name," you told, leaning in to rest your head on your arm. It was strange, how you immediately felt so comfortable beside him, even though you always felt rather tense around strangers. But he was a little different - a little friendly, a little clumsy and strange, but most of all - beyond eye-catching and interesting. And lovely.

"I'm Himchan," he simply told you with a smile, taking in your name just a second later the same way you took in his - with care not to forget. And as you recalled it all and realized, you cursed to yourself a little.

He'd left a name, but not a number. He was gone, and this time seemingly forever, as there was no way to reach him now.

Or so you thought, up until the third encounter - this one being a little accident on festival grounds.

Another bump, and another apology and response in the already familiar voices had caught your attentions, and you turned to him, feeling all fuzzy when you saw how his face lit up, as if he'd seen an old friend after years of being parted.

"(Y/N)!!"

And with that, you were suddenly enveloped in his arms. Getting hugs in general was rather pleasantly comfortable, but his embrace was something. As his body met with yours, his little laugh filling your left ear as he took a minute to feel your presence - it was all so new and unusual. Yet you could picture it happening again clearly. He'd sparked an interest.

"Oh god, I forgot to leave you my number today, I'm so sorry!" he swung your frames from side to side and babbled, making you chuckle as you felt your stomach filling up with butterflies, "So stupid of me, but I was in a hurry. I came back later, but you weren't there anymore, and I thought I wouldn't have the chance to meet you again-"

"You went back to look for me?"

Realization hit him like a rock then and there, and he froze, shyly disconnecting his frame from yours in a second. But the look on your face cleared at least half of his embarrassment and concerns, as he could see you were clearly all for this idea - you didn't mind at all.

"I mean.. I was passing by anyways, and thought I'd check.." he scratched the back of his head, blushing a little at your silent chuckle. He knew you didn't believe him in the least, yet he appreciated how you decided to play along, since it took the burdens off his shoulders, and simply let him have a good time, trying to hide up the fact he’d in fact ran back into that building half an hour later, panting lightly and making a few curious glances direct at him, none of those being the one he actually wanted to see.

"Now, since I'm pretty sure a fourth coincidence is quite unlikely to occur.. How about doing the thing about exchanging numbers?" he was still a little shy, yet your approving nod was enough for him to hand you his phone so you could type in the few digits that mattered the most to him back then - all of that happening before you agreed to disappear from the “festive wonderland” you’d gotten yourselves into, as apparently he was just as uncomfortable there as you were. Too much joy for your grumpy frames.

That's when it kicked off, and took on a rather fast approach, messing with your head all along the way. You'd never met someone who'd genuinely caught your eye this much, and since he had, it was a rather interesting experience. You met again for another coffee the next day, making the same barista throw you another interested look, and continued going out every other day you could. 

You found out he hated snow as much as you did, and even though quite some of your meetings were held indoors because of that issue of yours, you had to admit the weather outside was a little more bearable with him by your side. How the snowflakes tangled into his hair and made you want to ruffle it lightly, and how he never took gloves along, at some point making you shyly offer him to hold your hand for warmth purposes, which you did now always ever since the first time you’d offered and he’d done it without hesitation or doubt.

This was a friendship that evolved just in a few days and weeks, as you made sure to give it a good kick-start with long evening conversations over the phone or in a cafe, getting to know each other at an alarming rate. You simply felt so good beside him, and this happy atmosphere around you two made it a little special. To him as well.

Suddenly, you started slowly realizing what the whole holiday cheer was about. Realizing you'd always been more on the grumpy side simply because you were almost always alone, and slightly regretting your choice of taking up all those work assignments. Your favorite person had finally come along, and as you had someone to feel happy with but had no time, you felt a little jealous of the ones who did have tons of time. Hell, the extra work wouldn't even lead to all those promotions you were aiming for, so you decided to take it easy. It wouldn’t pay off, so you wouldn’t break your head over it. 

Every time you met he held you in his embrace a little tighter and a little longer. Texts turned out to be without stopping anywhere mid-day, becoming a constant thing that only died down while you were working or asleep. And as you started waking up to good morning texts, you started blushing every time it happened - he really acted rather like a boyfriend.

It took him only three bumps to get you to give him your number, and it took him only a little more than three weeks to make you give him something more.

In the timespan of three weeks, he had you completely head over heels fallen for him. Completely and utterly submerged in daydreams where his breath itched at your face as he told you how lucky he was to have such a coincidence happen to him during the time of year he disliked the most. How his hand caught your chin as you were about to turn away in embarrassment, and how instead he simply gave you one of his gorgeous smiles, softly pecking your lips and telling you he liked spending time with you so, so much.

As you dreamed about it, you couldn’t believe it would actually happen.

You had no clue it would happen when he picked you up that evening, smiling brightly and laughing a little as you playfully snuggled your face in the crook of his neck while giving him a welcoming hug. You were even more clueless about the further events while walking down the pretty, decorated streets. But you started getting aware at the end of the night, when everyone around seemed to be as happy as ever, but his smile shone a little brighter, indicating something you’d wanted to be true all along.

He was so damn attracted to you it physically hurt.

And it only showed more at the way his arm constantly wrapped around you while walking, his head constantly leaning in and whispering little things and nothings others shouldn’t know. Not because his words were special or anything - because it was a conversation meant to be held only between the two of you, and he wanted to keep it as personal as possible. It showed at the way you two shared all of the street food you’d gotten, and didn’t mind mixing up your beverages, just to be generous. It could be seen at how at ease and peaceful he felt as he watched all the different street performances and engaged into activities with you, simply being out of the house on Christmas eve with someone who’d came into his life more than simply recently, but someone who’d managed to dig out a place in his heart to fit themselves in, not even letting him oppose.

And as you turned to him at some point, having walked two steps in front of him as you tugged on his hand for him to come along prior to that, he felt like he wanted to let you know. So as he pulled your arm and made you chuckle, gently making your fame crash into his, he thought he’d risk it. Now or never.

“Himchan-ah, I-” instead of getting anything out properly, you felt his arms wrapping around your tightly, and you didn’t even have time to process before you felt his lips lightly covering yours.

It was a rather shy kiss - something that could maybe more appropriately be considered a peck, but you knew where his sudden shyness was coming from. If he was at least half as head over heels for you as you were for him, he had to feel anxious about this. Three weeks - was that enough to fall in love with someone? It had to be, or so he thought it felt like at least.

“I like you,” he told after another slow, soft peck of your lips, and patiently waited. His face stayed close, and his eyes remained shut as he let his lips curl into a smile and waited. Waited to hear the obvious.

“I-i.. I k-kinda like y-you too..”

And he didn’t need more or less - he simply let out a chuckle at your sudden anxiety, and mended it all with another brush against your lips - this one actually resembling a true kiss. He moved freely, and made you completely give in within seconds. His heart started beating a little faster as your hands reached for him, resting on his chest before one went to cup his face softly, and it got even faster as you kissed him back the way he wanted you to do it - showing exactly what all of this was about. Weirdly well-timed and strong-from-the-very-start attraction.

A lucky coincidence, and two people who had nothing to loose, yet a lot to gain if they tried it out. If they simply trusted the fact this could work, and could trust each other enough to let into the deepest corners of your hearts. Yes, that’s exactly who you were.

“It’s snowing, Himchan-ah,” you told him quietly afterwards, your faces still as close as ever and lazy smiles being thrown all over the place as you stared into each other’s eyes. He tried to concentrate on his surroundings, and found it to actually be true. Have you really been kissing for ages, or had it started snowing in a minute? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t even care all that much about it, or so he’d figured.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, of course it does!” you laughed, feeling him swinging your frames from side to side, “You hate snow, silly.”

Yet the look on his face showed he couldn’t possibly hate anything at that moment. He was completely filled up with affection - like a toy that was stuffed with it’s filling - and all his attention was directed at other things that resembled only good. He indeed felt snowflakes hitting the nape of his neck - his sensitive spot that he always complained about when snow fell on it - yet he didn’t have enough time to spare it even a single thought. In fact, it even felt pleasant.

“Who knows at this point? I feel like I could literally love everything right now, I’m all warm on the inside.”

You chuckled at his remark, yet understood clearly what he meant by that. You couldn’t help but admit it was inevitably the same to you.

Senses? Yeah, those had came back not too long ago, and same had happened with your interest to everything that was happening around. Tiredness became a second plan thing as you didn’t want to let it ruin your time with him, and same had happened to all the other negative emotions.

Unable to process? Not anymore.

And as you looked around a little, you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful the world seemed, coated in a layer of plain white. It hid all the broken and unpleasant, and kept it warm, so it could blossom the next spring and set beauty and life into all the surroundings. It was the symbol of hope and all that will eventually follow. It was a big, thick blanket, wrapping up all the broken and frozen things and letting them stay there until they could be fixed up again.

And looking at him, you realized everything was maybe better than you originally thought it was. You weren’t completely senseless - in fact, you felt all of your senses tingling after he’d kissed you, even the ones you’d forgotten about. And maybe you hadn’t even been that frozen on the inside all along... Or no, you have. He was simply much better at this than any heater or fireplace, setting a spark in you, and filling you up completely with all the needed - a sense of peace, affection, but most of all - warmth that only his presence could offer. A fuzzy and homey feeling that remained only when he was around.

He kept you warm, just like the snow did to all of the sleeping nature.

“And you made me all warm on the inside as well, surprisingly. Thank you,” you looked up at him gratefully and hopefully, knowing he returned the favor.

Knowing he’d unintentionally fallen in love as well.

[x-negan]

Lost And Found - (Negan Fic) Chapter 2: Choices

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1

Summary: Elise has difficulty choosing between reality or a fantasy.

Word Count: 2,215

Warnings: Swearing (not a lot), Angst

Author’s Note: Hey guys, here is chapter 2! I had a bit of difficulty writing this one because I generally have trouble wording things and overthink every sentence. I only want to publish good chapters. Never will I half-ass anything, I want you guys to enjoy reading this! No Negan this chapter SORRY( this is a slowburn) but he is mentioned. He will finally make an appearance in Chapter 3 (not really a spoiler but y’know just a heads up). With that being said, ENJOY ! :)

No beta reader for this chapter, I apologize for any errors or mistakes!

“Wake up Elise, you’ll be late for your first day at work!” a familiar voice boomed.

I opened my eyes, only to shut them again once a ray of sunlight made contact with my yet unadjusted corneas. Rubbing them gently and hoisting my upper body from what felt like a bed, examining my surroundings.

“What’s going on?” I thought silently, jerking my head from left to right trying to comprehend what I was seeing, it was my old room. From my old house when life was simpler. Daylight shined in through a crack between the blue drapes, it’s tint of color coating the room.

I snapped my head to the right when I heard the door to the room open, jumping off the bed and grabbing the nearest object— a pen that previously laid on the nightstand.

But there she stood, confusion in her stare. “What are you doing sweetie? Stop foolin’ around and get ready. You fought real hard for this job so don’t go messing it up now ‘cause you want 5 more minutes of sleep,”

It was my mom.

My breath hitched, I stared her up and down in disbelief as the hand that held the pen fell to my side. My body which was tense relaxed at the sight of her.

How was she alive? How were we back here?

“Job?..”  I queried in nearly a whisper. It took me a second to remember  she was referring to the job I had landed as a secretary at a journalism company before the apocalypse. It was a small position but it promised a good pay. Her medical bills were increasing and her monthly salary wasn’t enough to pay them off.

“Earth to Elise? Honey what’s with you this morning?” She strolled to where I stood, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. My eyes met with hers, tears threatening to slip out, I must be dreaming.

“I thought you were dead..” My voice breaking as I admitted. Her lips formed a soft smile, her eyes giving the most tenderly look. “Only in that horrible world Eli, here I’m alive,”

“What do you mean ‘here’?”  Was I right about this being a dream?

She relieved her hold on my shoulders and sat down on the corner of the bed pulling on her right ear gently. This was enough to confirm my doubts, I knew her all too well. She had the habit of tugging on either one of her ears every time she felt the need to confess anything.

“You’re unconscious, you have been for two days. This is a dream but it doesn’t have to be sweetie..”

I gave her a look of uncertainty. She sighed softly before continuing, “If you decide not to wake up then you could live here with me forever. I know how much you missed me—missed this. Back when life was normal,”

It all sounded very tempting, to simply stay in this moment when everything was uncomplicated. To not wake up to a life where people killed each other for a can of food. She was alive here, and I was starting to doubt if I ever wanted to wake up.

I scratched at my scalp gently, staring at the ground running my digits through my hair as a way to get the lone strands that had fell to my face out of the way.

I was actually thinking about it.

“Those Hillsiders aren’t your family Elise, I am.” She said contemptuously. I looked up—her words unsettling me. The people at Hillside are very close to me, they had kept me safe and made what was a shitty life not so shitty.

She knew nothing about being alone for weeks, worrying about not living to see another day. Not sleeping due to fear of being attacked or killed. Life before Hillside was hell.

“They are my family, they’ve done so much for me when all you did was die.” I snapped, soon regretting my words. It’s true that I didn’t resent her for dying, but she hadn’t been there for me anymore.

Her kind eyes became a darker shade as she stood up from where she sat. In a blink of an eye I felt a cool breeze pass over my body, causing me to shiver.

We were no longer in the comfort of my bedroom—but in the woods.

“You were always ungrateful,” she hissed, each stride she took towards me was a time her expression grew sinister.

This wasn’t my mother anymore.

“That man should have never saved you. If he had left you to die we could have lived together forever, but it seems that I’ll have to do it myself.”

She raised both her hands and placed them on my chest, harshly shoving me backwards. I lifted my hands as they grazed hers, hoping she would hold on to me.

But there she stood at the very top from where I was moments ago, smiling as I continued to descend. The only thought running through my mind being,

“What man?”

My eyes fluttered open, I darted my vision all around the room in worry I was in yet another dream but to my relief I saw Jessie sat across from the bed I laid in. He had fallen asleep on a armchair. I wasn’t going to bother waking him, but the sound of Rosemarie walking in caused him to anyway.

She caught a glimpse of me and hurriedly made her way to the other side of the bed. “Oh my god Elise! You’re awake!” She nearly shouted in excitement.

Jessie stood up and rushed to my side as if he didn’t believe it to be true.

“Please don’t yell.. My brain can’t take shouting at the moment.” I swallowed hard, my throat painfully dry.

Jessie made note of my struggling to even swallow my own saliva and quickly picked up a glass of water from my nightstand.

I began to attempt sitting up, grunting with each movement I made, my body felt extremely sore and the pain in my left thigh wasn’t any less worse.

“Hold your horses cowgirl, you took a really big fall. Rest for now, okay?” Jessie said with firm persistence.

He lightly placed his free hand on my shoulder, ushering me to lay back down as if I was fragile glass waiting to break. I lifted my head slightly enough to take a few small sips as he tilted the glass cup downwards.

Resting my head back down on the pillow I sighed softly, exchanging glances with them as they both stood over me. Worry in their expressions.

The room was quiet, neither of them could form words. So I took this opportunity to ask the nagging question in my head,

“How did I fall?” I was definitely sore, but I couldn’t remember falling from anywhere or anything to make me feel such discomfort. My dream was only that— a dream.

A pretty shitty one too.

“You fell off a cliff Elise! Broke 3 ribs, have multiple deep scratches on your skin and even had a branch that skewered your leg!” I blinked a few times, trying to process the words that left Rose’s mouth.

“Thank goodness you’ll still be able to walk, Lauren says no major arteries were hit.” Rose assured with a bright grin.

Lauren was the only one at Hillside with knowledge about medicine, she was practically our doctor. Whenever anyone became sick or hurt, she was the one to nurse them back to health.

From what she’s told us, she wasn’t a surgeon before the apocalypse, simply a nurse in training. She doesn’t even know how to handle a surgical knife, so now I’m left to hope she knew what she was doing with my leg.

Though no matter how much I tried to remember, my mind continued drawing blanks. I apparently nearly died yet here I was with not even a clue as to what went down.

My lips parted a bit, a breath escaping. I lifted my right hand to massage my aching temples. Rose’s yelling—which I told her to keep at a minimum had managed to bring on a migraine. Only to feel a tug before my hand even reached the side of my head, I was attached to an IV drip. I didn’t even know Hillside was equipped with these until now.

“Who found me?” I asked, I wish I could remember what happened that day. What exactly went wrong, and who saved my life.

Rosemarie and Jessie both looked up to each other on cue, as if agreeing on something in silence for a drawn out second before directing their gazes back down at me,

“I did silly.” Jessie teased softly, something in eyes contradicting what he said.

Who was I to doubt my best friend? Of course he was the one to save me, he was always by my side. But there was a small feeling inside my chest, a small part of me didn’t believe him. It felt like someone else had the person who found me nearly dead,  but I couldn’t recall and it was of no use to think back on it.

“Thanks for saving my life, greatest friend award goes to you.” The three of us chuckled, my effort at a joke paying off. I winced slightly in between laughs, my ribs were hurting like hell and laughing only added onto the botheration.

If I hadn’t woken up from the dream it would have been a selfish move on my part. I have two friends that stand by me and even care for me— had Hillside. A near death experience didn’t make me realize it, it solidified it.

The handle of the room’s door clicked, slowly turning as the door gradually opened, Giana entered holding a bowl of what I guessed was soup. She glanced over to me, a smile shaping her lips. “A little birdie told me you were finally awake.. Or maybe someone heard Rose’s shouts and relayed it back to me,” She joked approaching the side of the bed where Rose stood giggling to herself.

“I brought you something to eat, you must be hungry.” And I was, I had been out cold for 2 days with nothing in my stomach, I was bound to be starving.

I eagerly nodded in response, the soup’s aroma invading my nostrils.

“Uhm could you two leave Elise and I alone for a bit? I need to fill her in about what happened,” Jessie and Rose’s expressions had gone from joyful to grim.

As requested by Giana, both of them left the room, leaving us alone.

She placed the bowl on the nightstand, the bed dipping as she sat down near my legs. I was becoming worried, Giana was always cheerful; normally never serious. As I was seeing her manners shift, I knew something grave had occurred.

“While you were unconscious, a group of survivors came to the community threatening to kill us if we didn’t agree to their proposition. They want half of our supplies.” With my eyes closed, I took a deep breath, internally waiting for Giana to continue.

“I agreed to it, Elise.” She said in a dry tone. I popped my eyes open, my glare showing I was more upset than she anticipated.

We barely had any supplies of our own yet here she was, telling me she was ready to hand half of it over to a group of assholes.

“Why would you do that? We don’t even have much to give!” I argued.

Giana exhaled a small breath as she held onto the bridge of her nose.

“You’re setting us up to starve and d—” I was cut off when she stood from the bed and took my left arm into her grasp. I winced at the sudden harsh gesture, my eyes darting up at hers.

This wasn’t like Giana, but I could tell the stress from knowing herself already that the community was at the brink of starvation and then having to give supplies that her own people desperately needed to others, was building up.

“I did this so that we wouldn’t die! They said they’d kill every single one of us if we didn’t comply!” She objected in a panicky tone. She realized a few seconds later how rough her hold on my arm was before she released her grip.

Her appearance became gentle as she went on,

“It was the same day you were found and brought back. The leader of the group was the one to bring it up. I couldn’t refuse him, Elise.” Her eyes closed as she softly caressed the section of my arm she had so bitterly grabbed.

I didn’t doubt a bruise would form soon, it would be one out of the many that now covered my body like a canvas.

“What was his name?” I grew curious of the man who was bound to ruin the lives of those who lived in Hillside— my family.

Her boots tapped the floor as she walked towards the door, turning to face me once again.

Her voice nearly a whisper,

“Negan” she answered.

She closed the door on the way out, leaving me to repeat the name over and over again in my head.    

That’s chapter 2 folks! I hope you enjoyed reading it and are still interested! It means a lot to receive any kind of feedback or support. 

I’m working on chapter 3 so it’ll be released either next week or the week after that.

If you would like to be tagged or removed from the tag list, please message me!

Tag list: @the-sanctuaryy , @castielwinchester22 , @make-things-beautiful2 , @xagateophobiax , @collette04 , @chiwawha , @neganismyobsession , @dinodiegos , @fxcking-negan

[thewittyphantom]

DSOD Review/Thoughts

Watched DSOD in full, and I’ll stick most of my thoughts under a Read More. Overall, while it’s a spectacle for the eyes and parts of it were very vibrant, as a whole I think it’s just okay. The parts that work work well, but the rest I find  confusing, a bit hard to follow with the various plot threads all happening at once, and very saddening in terms of favorite characters and the series as a whole. I kinda wish it’d been a slice of life movie with duels on the side XD;

The numerous retcons and inconsistencies with the manga AND anime can make following it hard even if you have read/watched all of the original story as well, particularly involving the new villain Aigami, Ryou Bakura, Shadi, and Yugi’s final duel with Atem.

Another thing to note is how the movie was made in the first place. DSOD was commissioned without the creator's involvement originally, but upon being asked to work on it he agreed and took control of the project, being solely responsible for the script, story, and designs. Also, originally it was going to star Seto Kaiba alone, without Yugi or his friends showing up, but adding Yugi and co. made it 3 hours long so an hour had to be cut from the script, which may explain lack of exposition regarding certain plot points. A prequel manga called Transcend Game fills in some of the gaps but seems to have been made back when it was Seto Kaiba: The Movie, as several characters act differently than they do in this movie and Yugi and co. don't appear at all.

While Yugi and his friends have returned to a peaceful life, Seto Kaiba is determined to see and duel the Pharaoh no matter what by excavating and completing the Millennium Puzzle, and both sides are menaced by Aigami, a mysterious classmate of Yugi's with magic powers who is determined to stop the Pharaoh's resurrection even if it means killing Kaiba or Yugi. Yugi's friends mainly have a supporting role, with the exception of Ryou Bakura, who has a role in Aigami's backstory. Nothing of the cut-short Ancient Egypt arc is mentioned, and while Kisara appears in the prequel manga she isn't seen or mentioned in the movie itself. Pegasus does not appear as he was killed in the manga, and the Ishtars only appear in a flashback. The animation quality and music is the best Yu-Gi-Oh has ever seen, and hearing the old voice actors in English and Japanese again was a treat. Aigami also has a very good design and voice, as do his sister Sera and confidant Mani. However, some of the plot threads as presented in the movie don't align with the manga OR the anime, particularly with Shadi, the Ring, and Bakura. Those three are probably the biggest outliers in the movie for several reasons, listed below:

Shadi's appearance is changed slightly, he raised Aigami, Sera, Mani, and the planners, and he has powers he's never had before in any continuity, such as wielding the Quantum Cube, which can directly erase people from existence, grant teleportation for one’s self and others, and send people to other dimensions. He can also transfer these powers to others, which will activate upon the Pharaoh leaving, but they will lose them if the Pharaoh is reborn into the world a second time.

Bakura's father got the Millennium Ring from Shadi instead of from an antique shop/bazaar in Egypt, and was killed by it despite being alive to curate the museum in the manga, which allowed the Millennium World to happen. Bakura himself also tagged along for the trip, despite it being implied in the manga and stated in the anime that he got the Ring when his father returned.

In the manga it was stated pretty clearly that as long as Bakura didn't wear the Ring it couldn't do any harm, but in this movie it corrupts several people without the need to wear it, in Aigami's case without even needing to touch it.

The climax has the Millennium Ring corrupting others, and bonding with Diva to create a reality-warping monster, but how it does so with Zorc and Yami Bakura gone is never explained, nor is it explained who/what the resulting monster is.

Characters who were very active in the manga, such as Joey, don't get to do much at all, with Joey even wearing a dog suit like in an anime arc infamous for putting him down. Ryou Bakura also gets the short end of the stick despite his backstory role, as he doesn't have a dream for the future, nobody asks him what it is, he gets stuck in another dimension for the last third of the movie, and his father is also apparently dead despite being alive in the manga and anime. While Mokuba Kaiba gets some time to shine, his relationship with Seto isn't as close as it was, as Seto is mainly focused on seeing and dueling Atem. Tea and Tristan are mostly filler, but they get off relatively easy, while Yugi himself tends to react more to what Kaiba and Aigami do than act on his own.

How Aigami's powers work is a mystery even if you have read the prequel manga, and if you haven't, then how Kaiba's VR tech works--by constructing solid images and transcending dimensions through his brainwaves and a collective consciousness of duelists--will be hard to follow. Aigami's motivations and methodology in the Japanese version revolve around quantum physics, which are also hard to understand, and his goals sound noble but are pretty selfish, as he wants to remake the world into a place of beauty as fits his desires, get rid of anything in his way to keep his powers, and believes so much in better worlds he feels Yugi’s is static, meaningless, and hateful.

Since the Plana’s powers activated upon the Pharaoh’s disappearance, it turns what was a bittersweet but powerful ending for the original series--Yugi defeating his other self, seeing him off, and proving he could be on his own--into a tragic moment as Yugi almost dooms the world by winning. The Pharaoh leaving causes the whole movie to happen, not only with Aigami's escalating war, but also Kaiba's plot to find and assemble the Puzzle, which is what starts Aigami targeting them.

More significantly, the final duel of the movie also breaks the lesson of the main story by having Yugi need help to win when he couldn't do it alone, despite his entire arc being about standing up for himself on his own and beating the Pharaoh to prove he was ready. (Making this worse is a comment from volume 8 of the bunkoban about a canceled YGO vs GX movie, where Takahashi said that reviving Atem, which he considered, would betray the themes of the original story.)

The movie kinda paints itself into a corner--Atem had to return to stop the Plana since him leaving started it, despite the movie also enforcing the idea that he couldn't return and everyone had to move on, including Yugi and Kaiba. And speaking of Kaiba, there’s the ending to the movie.

Kaiba spends much of the film in an obsessive state, trying futilely to see Atem while being told that he has moved on and isn't coming back, with Yugi recompleting the Puzzle to prove it. (Kaiba is crushed when this doesn't work.)  Throughout the movie Yugi and his friends have moved on from the loss, Yugi gives Kaiba a speech directly telling him to move on, and Atem himself takes the Puzzle to the afterlife with him. Kaiba  decides that if he can't bring Atem back, he'll meet Atem by going to the afterlife instead, leaving Mokuba to run his company in his stead. Whether or not he’ll return or can return is ambiguous, and the movie ends before the duel starts, figuratively leaving us in limbo.

I know all this harping on sounds like I hate the movie. I don’t. I loved hearing the old voice actors again and the new cast, the character cameos and call-backs were cool, the animation and music is amazing, and Yugi and his friends graduating and just hanging out and having fun is really sweet. DSOD is at its best in its joyful, quiet moments when the fate of the world isn’t on the line.

It’s just... When I get into a new series or rediscover an old one I want to learn as much as I can about it so I can fit all the pieces together, like a puzzle. I want to know why things are the way they are, not only out-of-universe, but in-universe. Before DSOD it was fairly simple--the manga did X, the anime did Y, the Toei anime did Z, the video games tend to mix the continuities, and spinoffs either follow the manga, anime, or are set in their own worlds. After DSOD, it feels like pieces are missing from the puzzle, and I’m frustrated by my lack of ability to comprehend it.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it wasn’t set after the ending and thus necessitating new conflicts, or maybe I shouldn’t be writing this review at 7 AM after staying up all night. Maybe I will understand it someday, but for now my favorite YGO movie is still Pyramid of Light. (Joey getting to fight and duel plus Pegasus being involved helps. XD)

[limbotaleblog-blog]

Limbotale

A continuation of Undertale: Genocide route.

I’ve been thinking, I’ve seen so many continuations of the other routes, but none for the genocide route, understandably. But like normal death for us humans, maybe the monsters of Undertale do have somewhere to go when they’re slain. But Heaven or Hell are too typical and cliche, so what about some of the other afterlife realms, like Limbo. There’s so many AUs of Undertale, but only like, one or two of them are really continuations of the original handful of endings. Like I said, mostly the Pacifist and Neutral endings, and yes, I know that Genocide means everyone’s dead, but even that isn’t complete erasure.

What I was contemplating about this “Limbotale” is that every character who’s died still wanders about, still with their old personalities and quirks, albeit everything is more somber and melancholic and even slightly cynical, but generally the same as the lively Undertale timeline was. Although, every character has prominent scars racked across their bodies from when they were mercilessly cleaved by Chara’s blade. The scars no longer secrete blood, and don’t cause the monsters physical pain. Mental and emotional pain, yes, very much so, but they try to set aside the damage that they’ve suffered and go about their lives as they once had. Of course, some monsters may be better at this than others.

One of the main points of melancholy is that everyone remembers, so they’re very wary of humans. Somewhat mercifully, it’s not too severe since they are already dead, so they have the comfort of knowing that they can never die again, at least via normal means of death. The monsters holding the most suspicion of humans are the characters you’re able to befriend the most with during an Undertale playthrough. ie. Sans, Papyrus, Toriel, Asgore, Undyne, and Alphys. Some of the ex villains too, like Mettaton and even Asriel. Remember, Asriel wasn’t always a flower, and I figure that when he’s killed, his dust reverts back to its original body in Limbo.

Also, the point with Alphys, yeah it’s a contradictory thing because she’s never encountered in a genocide run. Maybe when Chara’s free, she finds her somewhere and kills her too eventually? *shrug* Same with the other monsters who’d evacuated from the Underground.

Anyway, just like in Undertale, you have the option to fight or spare everything you encounter. Now that everything’s dead, people mainly cheer themselves up by engaging in sparring matches for sport. Nothing can die, so sparing is technically considered forfeiting, but it’s still labeled as “spare”. For the sake of aesthetics, lol. And the battle system is all the same; monsters still use the same attacks as they had during life, so things can be pretty easy to go through.

So I’ve been going on about how life’s like now for the monsters of the Underground in Limbo, and mentioning the battle system seems like a good segway into the plot of the whole thing, no? Like I said, battles are now friendly competition amongst the monsters, but against humans it’s much the same as before. You see, there’s a barrier between two sections of this Limbo world; one being a residential zone for the dead monsters, and another for the souls of dead humans. Ooh, interesting, no? ewe Anywho, the two races live separated because of the monsters’ stigmatic view of humans, even though the humans are dead too. The monsters still want only to live in peace, and since being massacred by one evil human, this is where their skepticism originates from; the monsters essentially want nothing to do with the humans. But sometimes, members of either race seem to fancy risking interactions with each other. It doesn’t happen often at all, and thankfully the races never really squabble with each other over the rare mingling members, but the monsters do see that some humans are still good-hearted even after death. But of course they still prefer to play it safe and keep the barrier up to at least let them have a peaceful afterlife.

As the story goes of a new foray into Limbotale, one spectral human is interacting with Asriel through the barrier, simply talking as is all they can do. They talk about their lives in their respective residencies, what they tend to do for fun otherwise, how their other neighbors are going about, and so on and so forth. They proceed to converse about how they were killed, and how their lives were like before their deaths. It’s both joyful and solemn for the both of them, and when they come up to talking about random topics, they’re interrupted by their respective caretakers and separated once again. When they’re able to meet up again, Asriel starts coming up with an idea to bring the human into the monster zone, but he’d need to plan how to not have his friend monitored and outcasted by all the other monsters. His main plan involves the human befriending the main characters foremost, being as they’re the most looked up upon by all the other monsters. If they can trust at least one of the spectral humans this time, maybe the stigma will lessen at least for the human for now.

So, the story technically begins with the player going around Snowdin Town, of course accompanied by Asriel, and you can wander around freely as you wish, interacting with virtually anything. I should also mention that Limbotale does take place a few years after the events of the genocide ending, possibly in the wake of Chara reincarnating the world after you give your soul to them. That’s a plausible outcome, no? .3. Anyway, Asriel acts as your sidekick in this world, and he stays with you throughout the whole thing, if only to see to it that you’re not too uncomfortable in the midst of all the wariness and stigmatic fear.

As I said for the battle system, the random monsters who get into battles with you can be spared, and similarly to your hypothetical score in Undertale, every monster you spare slowly lessens your skeptical projection to the monsters, making you more viable to be trusted. Occasionally you encounter the main characters, funnily enough in the same orders, and their battles are more of a test of how determined and faithful you are to show them you’re not out to hurt anyone. This is about as committing as before, but this time there’s more room for error… The local monsters are simple enough to work around, but the main theme of this world is faithfulness, and that’s what the main bosses are testing. You have to be a lot more honest and careful with your choices to win their acceptance. This may seem cheap and cynically straightforward, but remember, all of these characters were brutally murdered by a demon and they won’t forget those scars… So as you go through the story, befriending the characters in general sequence, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Toriel, Asgore, and finally Sans, you gradually gain the acceptance of the whole monster zone. The main bosses do pretty much grow accustomed to you as you go along anyway, but in sequence is as it’s confirmed if they’ve accepted you as a friend.

However, Sans is the one who your choices strictly matter; he’s very cautious of humans, still relatively laid back, but definitely very watchful, to the point where he’s as daunting to be around as he is relieving. Once Papyrus is befriended though, Sans is a little easier to persuade as long as you play your cards right with him. Partially by way of that is successfully befriending his other friends, the aforementioned characters, and when interacting with him himself. Of course, since he’s so analytical and psychological, you have to essentially match his mindset. That doesn’t mean just telling him what he wants to know on the spot. What I mean by that is, Sans is virtually the only one who critically listens to what you tell him, so if you say one thing, and then tell him something that doesn’t quite match up, he will call you out on it, and if his trust for you isn’t sufficient enough, he’ll initiate a very difficult battle with you. But seeing as you probably wouldn’t want to fight him, you need only talk to him three times and then spare him, granted he doesn’t beat you down first. Of course you can’t die in this world, but him beating you has pretty much the same effect as in Undertale, and his trust decreases. If you’re not honest, or even if your own words escape your knowledge as to what you once told Sans, you may find yourself in a lot of battles with him. Of course, he’s also as frustratingly difficult to fight as when he was alive; of course all of the bosses are, relatively.

So Sans is essentially the main monster you would benefit most from befriending, but his battles can range from relatively difficult to borderline unfairly hard depending on where you stand with his friends. Of course this is all easy if you go about the story with pacifist intentions. Curiously enough, his battle on a completely harmless Pacifist run is surprisingly forgiving. By the time you face him for the last time, he should be mostly accepting of you, but you must still be very careful. If you choose to attack him even once, or even by accident, his trust will drop back to below half and make the battle much harder than it should be. Interestingly, if that happens, he won’t be particularly happy about it. Almost disappointed, but indifferent at the same time. You’d think he’d actually be more expectant of it if anything. But if you get through it with no mistakes, the last battle is the point when Sans finally fully accepts you as a friend. If you do happen to blunder up, he’ll likely be the only one who still doesn’t fully trust you. It seems unfair, but understandable as well.

So all this explaining, and there hasn’t really been a point to all this, has there? Hmm, right then, what’s this world looking forward to, you wonder. I suppose there’s not much of a goal for them to anticipate, but maybe making friends with the humans again. I mean, before, they wanted to leave the Underground and live among the humans again, but now that they’re dead with a stigmatic view of them, living among them would be the last thing they’d want. Yeah, this time they’re simply hoping to befriend particular humans who do still approve of them, to come to terms with their death and eventually accept that friends can still be made in the humans.

What’s interesting about this world is that unlike Undertale where if you beat the game, then go through the world by the same route, nothing much differs, Limbotale actually remembers previous playthroughs, even if you’re going down the same route. Albeit, something interesting does pervade, such as of course the new character being unknown to the monsters, but the last human you played as is now an NPC in the world, and they can even be interacted with. They generally tell you things they’ve done and can give tips about things, like qualities on their main friends or comments on the world from a 3rd person perspective. But this only happens if you go through the whole story up till the point where the “reset” option in the main menu says “true reset”. Which doesn’t actually reset anything as it does in Undertale, what it technically means is it’s “resetting” the routine of life in the game, so you’re going through the same script on a different forward in-game point in time. So with each playthrough of the same Pacifist route, your previous humans will get to become permanent residents in the monster zone, sometimes interacting with various overworld monsters too. Also, the monsters remember as well, but beware of course, the stigma will pretty much always exist, hence with each playthrough, you will have to battle the boss characters every time.

However, this world is also very unforgiving if you decide to try and go through with murderous intentions. Well, I say murderous. I mean by getting into battles and choosing the fight option will quickly scare the monsters, and get the bosses on your case almost immediately. If caught, they’ll berate you and Asriel, and then throw you into stupidly difficult battles. Should you somehow survive all this, the monsters all accuse you of being Chara coming back to torture them again. The payoff is hardly even worth it, I’ll tell you now, seeing as it should be pretty obvious even thinking about it. The only thing that does happen for a tormenting run is raising the resentment of the monsters towards humans, dead or alive, and making the next playthroughs more difficult, until after quite a few at least. And besides, that’s supposed to be the whole idea of limbo, isn’t it? To go through and atone for your sins and mistakes?

I wonder if this might clash with the Aftertale AU in some way. >3>