#also I do not think this was the divorce I think the divorce is yet to come and it will feel like getting punched in the face 1000 times

[absoluteocellibehavior]

*pulls up a chair*

*sits cutely*

Did you miss me?

Wow, ok. Where do I even begin?! Let's start with Kayne and The Tower itself. You may think that pulling cards like The Devil or Death are gonna be the ones that you're worried about but no. You got a Tower in your reading? Buckle up. The Tower is characterized with massive change, upheaval, and chaos. I honestly could not think of anything more fitting for our "Crawling Chaos." It is a change that affects you on all levels: physically, mentally, and spiritually. A massive, unexpected change that knocks down that stable structure built on unstable grounds. The Tower is also characterized with divine intervention that causes this massive change for your greater good. Well, the greater good is not the case with Kayne but he is certainly divinely intervening. He's got a hand in everything. Playing chess while everyone is playing checkers. He knows exactly how to get the people that he needs in the spots that he needs them without them questioning it. Look at those strings he's got on our little boys down at the bottom!

Going back to what I said about the shaky foundation. John and Arthur are the tower itself in this case. They have built this structure out of necessity. They are bonded to one another. So, their relationship has to be built up with one another. However, with the amount of lies and things kept from one another, this "stable structure" is liable to cracks. Just think about the amount of divorces we joke about. Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. However, any of the massive things that have broken down their relationship back to the roots have been, for the most part, caused by Kayne. For example, Arthur's deal with Kayne causes Arthur to have to start from square one (no matter how unsuccessfully) with Yellow. John's deal with Kayne leads to John having to lie and manipulate Arthur into getting him to New York to the Grey Stone which culminates to another shattering of their relationship. However, after each of these events, Arthur and John have had to build their trust and bond with one another again. Arguably, I would say it gets stronger every time especially with how they are with one another in Season Five. Yet this cycle of destruction and renewal has Kayne looming over it and we truly can't be certain when Kayne's going to knock them down again.

OTHER CUTESY DETAILS <3 First of all, hello Chakra symbolism! We got two going here! The Crown Chakra is represent by the, well, crown lookin thing behind Kayne's head. This is actually something that shows up in the Rider-Waite tarot deck symbolizing energy coming down through the most divine part of yourself. This is just even more fun symbolism of Kayne's hand and intervention in everything. Down at the bottom between the boys, you've got the opposite: The Root Chakra. This is your grounding chakra. Your earthy chakra. A humanly connected one as opposed to the divine we previously spoke of. A major theme in Malevolent is what it means to be human. Both Arthur and John are painfully human, representing "humanity in all its forms" (borrowing a line from the most recent chapter). Over the course of the parts, you have Arthur and John changing and growing into themselves, choosing when to change or staying stubborn in certain areas. All of these choices symbolizing the essence of the human experience. They learn from one another. This leads into the next fun detail. John and Arthur are in the position of "The Creation of Adam", except your expected roles are reversed. John is Adam and Arthur is God. However, it makes sense in this case. Rather than Adam becoming close to the divine through a tainting of a relationship with God and partaking in the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, you have John becoming closer to humanity through his experiences in his bonding to Arthur (not all due to Arthur, mind you). And this little outreaching of hands is happening -- you guessed it -- in front of the Root Chakra.

Last little fun detail. If you don't know, Nyarlathotep in the OG Lovecraft lore often shown as an Egyptian pharaoh. So, we get some of that symbolism with Kayne here with little Eye of Horus designs on his clothing which was tied to the belief of the gods ruling over humankind. This is the left eye but we see Kayne looking out of his RIGHT eye leaning towards the Eye of Ra instead. The Eye of Ra is said to be able to see anything. Which is painfully ironic for Kayne because is this nearly the case except for that pesky little Black Stone, huh?! Fun details <3

XVI The Tower

Who’d want to be human anyway? Who pilots all these crude machines?

[jejelovescats]

My (probably inaccurate) analysis on Spy x Family chapter 109

From what we currently know, Melinda clearly has some kind of hatred towards her husband, now we can say this is because of a potential mental illness (or physical damage that led to a mental illness) OR the (probable) abuse taking place, physical/psychological.

Now, we don't have a proper backstory on Melinda to say that there was any physical damage that took place, especially something so severe to the point it caused her a mental illness. The likelihood of abuse taking place is much more likely since we DO know that she has visited the psychiatry department in some point in the past, somewhere around when the war took place. Now, off the top of my head, there are a number of reasons why she could have visited, first being the pressure and stress of being a first lady, especially in the war period, or is it because she reached a point where she wasn't able to handle her emotions BECAUSE of the abuse?

I would like to focus on the latter since I find it much more probable. Now I did say earlier that physical damage could cause mental illnesses, the phrase "physical damage" doesn't exclude abuse. Maybe the abuse reached a point where it caused her mental distress.

Now I would like to discuss Melinda's relationship with her family, starting off with her children (this will be more focused with Melinda's relationship with Damian since we don't know what she thinks of Demetirus yet)

Now Melinda's relationship with her family is uhhh, complex to say the least. In the bus hijacking arc, Melinda refers to her son as "my treasure" while simultaneously referring to him as "my curse". Now what we can note is that everything was fine up until Damian asked her not to tell his father that he cried, that's when her thoughts started to go haywire.

Now at this point we ask ourselves, "Why are Melinda's thoughts towards Damian like this?" in my opinion its either because he's Donovan's child (which explains why she refers to him as a curse) or that she's afraid he'll be just like his father?

Now the answer to both of these questions crawl back to Donovan. Now we also need to ask ourselves "Where did Donovan and Melinda's relationship stand before they got married?" If it was an arranged marriage, the (probable) abuse would make more sense but if they were originally in love, that's a WHOLE other story. if so we would need to ask

-"what happened to turn their relationship into this?"

-"why did Donovan start treating his wife that way?"

I honestly really do believe that they were originally in love hence Melinda's mind trying to look for any reason why her husband turned into something that brought her so much distress (ergo the "My husband is an alien)

It would make more sense if they were previously in love

Or at least, Melinda was tricked into thinking he loved her

If so, then he had to have an ulterior motive maybe he took advantage of the fact he knew she cared about him?

If Melinda cared so much about a man to the point of risking her mental and (potentially) physical health, then there has to be some kind of history on why she fell in love with Donovan in the first place, why she (probably) never questioned his (probable) abuse , blaming it on the fact that "My husband is an alien" it's like she doesn't want to believe that her husband (a man she loved) would abuse her, although I would really love to know what Melinda thinks of Demetrius, I'd assume something similar what she thinks of Damian.

"Why can't they divorce or why can't she report him?" Well there are a number of possibilities including the fact that if she loves him, she wouldn't want to divorce him and it is evident that she loves him so much to the point she never questioned his abuse hence the "My husband is an alien" since she doesn't want to believe that a person she loved so much would hurt her (again, Donovan abusing her is NOT confirmed yet I'm just saying what I think if it were true) OR she doesn't want to tarnish her reputation because even if she did report him, he could make up a lie for people not to believe her "would you really believe a woman who's convinced her husband is an alien?" since he does have more power over her. That being said, people are more likely to believe Donovan since they only see Melinda as "the former first lady" not a mother nor a wife. As well as the fact that when she reports him with no success, the abuse will most likely get worse.

And I also noticed in her list of symptoms that she had insomnia, is it caused by the fact she thinks husband is an alien? That her mind is trying to block out the fact that her husband is abusive? There's just so many possibilities! I can't wait to see what endo has in store for us!

conclusion: Melinda has a crappy husband and needs a better one bc that's what she deserves and also get her a better therapist this woman is mentally ill you don't wanna make it worse by getting her an unlicensed and inexperienced fake therapist 😭😭

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

There's a conversation we need to have about Jayce, thinking he's once again doing the objectively good thing, somehow finding a way to make saving Viktor's life about himself

Ripping Viktor out of death and into birth, bringing him into the world against his wishes, the Frankenstein and Frankenstein's Monster of it all

But first I have to scream incoherently and cry facedown on the floor for about 24 hours

[softlyella]

Whilst these are all good points, I'd love to add a few more from a more socio-economic viewpoint.

Hope it helps 💓

#1 50/50 was invented to be a punishment

It did not come from a desire of equality, but rather stems from a desire to punish Feminism. And before I go any further, if you're one of those imbecile who think feminism is a movement that hates men please gtfo, I do not have time for idiots or people who can't even research the most basic social movements of our modern society.

50/50 was a response from men who were mad that women had the audacity to fight for the right of vote, of pursuing their education, getting a job and having their own bank account. Most of which has only been a right for women for approximately 100 years.

Prior to the first and second wave of the Feminism movement, women were properties with zero access to education and public freedom.

They didn't have the right to higher education and the education they did received was limited to basic maths and reading, languages if they were rich, and then 'useful' things, such as cooking, embroidery, cleaning methods, child care....

One could argue that's not an education, that's grooming.

Girls also either belonged to their fathers, or husband. If they had none of those it was brothers, uncles, cousins... the only way for a woman to have financial security was through her father or husband. They had no legal rights to own a bank account, and most of the time needed permission from their husbands to have a job.

The first Feminism movement was a fight for the right to vote, so that women could have a say in the path their country was taking, and was spurred on by the working conditions of girls working in factories for little money, zero protection. By voting, women could better their working conditions by choosing candidates who care about lower classes.

The right to education was a fight to help women, especially from lower classes, get better jobs. And not being stuck working with assholes who gave them literal pennies for long hours and dreadful conditions. Both fights were to improve the living conditions of girls.

Women fought to be financially free, and have access to good jobs, so that marriage was no longer the only path for them.

➡️ Fyi if marrying someone is the only way you can have a warm bed, and a roof over your head, food on the table, is it marriage or a form of prostitution?

Are you in a union, or are you being groomed raised to ensure you are handpicked by the best buyer possible?

Food for thoughts 💭

The third wave of Feminism focused a lot of sexual safety and freedom.

Because too many marriages were abusive.

Women were raped and forced to have chidrren after children, when they didn't want to be mothers, simply because it forced them to stay with a man. They couldn't abandon their children.

⚠️ Interesting fact: Funnily enough, it wasn't until that particular wave of Feminism and the discussion around women being sexually abused that the medias started heavily criticising Feminism.

Imma just leave that here.

I'd like to also point out that this phenomenon still happens to this day, many men try to force women to have children, partners tampering with their s/o's contraceptive methods and this is abuse. It's a form of control, it's done to trap these women.

➡️ Ask the grandmothers and great grand mothers about their marriages. How many of them left / got a divorce as soon as they were allowed to have their own bank account? They married cause they didn't have a choice.

Anyway, in retaliation to women seeking financial freedom, and getting good jobs, doing very well in their education, and refusing more and more to marry, the 50/50 started floating around, as a form of punishment.

Along with Feminism means I can punch a woman the same way I'd punch a dude.

#2 There is still to this day no financial equality between men and women.

Women are proven to do better in their education and yet are experiencing roadblocks getting jobs, or receiving funds to start their company.

Start-ups seeking financial support are often denied if the CEOs are women, or if there is one woman amongst them. (research your own numbers, critical thinking, reading and analysing information is a skill).

Women are given less promotions as employers are patriarchal cunts overly concerned with the moment they will have children, who's taking care of their child if they're working, and wether the husband is okay with them going back to work.

Women are paid less than their male counterparts. Yet somehow expected to be absolutely perfect.

If a woman gets married, she is often passed up for promotion as managers sees that as her having children soon.

When she does have children, she's forced to take time off, and has an increase of medical bills, food requirements and a decrease of energy.

The child was created by 2 people, and yet too often (ask women around you) the woman tends pays for way more than half of the pregnancy.

Child is born, the mother now has this human to take care of and will be the primary caretaker because men who want 50/50 are often men who can't cook, clean or plan doctors' appointment, and call taking care of their children 'baby-sitting'.

This pushes women to constantly be in their masculine energy: planning, executing and doing. It leaves little to no room for women to be in their Feminine and be more receptive, more in tune with their bodies and emotions.

Women are required to start working part time to be present to pick up their kids from daycare or school. so they earn less money and are hindered from getting promoted.

Women are the ones called if the child has any issue at school. They are forced to take time off, walk away from their work because no one wants to call the dad. Again, a behaviour that jeopardises their financial wealth and freedom.

50/50 men tend to expect a woman who cooks, cleans, takes care of the house and kids on top of her full time job and waits on them, so when their exhausted, overworked, over it wife cannot be a superwoman anymore (legitimately so) they start treating her badly, get abusive, or cheat.

Whatever, a divorce ensues.

The mother will keep the child, because the father most often does want the kids full time. She will need to get a house / apartment big enough for the kids on a single income, which is reduced because during her marriage with 50/50 dude she worked less hours to take care of everything, all alone (house, kids, husband). Meanwhile the father will downsize to a bachelor pad, since he does not need a house / flat that has to have lots of bedrooms as he only has the kids on weekends, every other week etc. Yet, he still has his full salary, a career that was flourishing, with promotions and salary raises.

The mother is now struggling, living in semi poverty, because instead of choosing a partner who valued taking care of her she believed the 50/50 crap and decided to prove she's an independent woman. She put herself through misery trying to met the abusive expectations of someone who did not value her and is now financially struggling because the current capitalist society we live is patriarchal af.

#3 Equality & Equity

Whilst people have learned the concept of equality, and love to wave it around, many (the larger part unfortunately) seem to have passed up upon the concept of equity.

Yet, both are taught in preschool/earlier grades, but it seems selective memory is at play here along with a lack of communitarianism.

Whilst equality teaches us that everyone gets a piece of cake, regardless of age, gender, ethnicity, etc... equity teaches us that if there is a cake available, when deciding whom to give pieces too, if ppl in group A already have lots of cakes at home to eat and plenty of cake whenever they want, and group B only has cake when it's given to them because they simply cannot afford cake, then it would be right to give the cake to group B. That equity gives lieu to equality.

It is one of the core concept of a community of a society that works with each other. For a society to be equal, there is a need for equity.

The same concept applies for example in French school. Every kid attends the canteen, and gets warm meals. However, the price of lunches is different for each family. It is worked out as per the family income, so some pay a higher price, and families with less income pay a smaller price but all kids get the same warm lunch. That's equity (the payment chart with income level) and it gives lieu to equality (all kids at school sit down in a dining hall, and are served the same lunch).

The same concept should apply to men and women given the vast discrepancy between their financial state, the career and financial opportunities given to each. However, this is not applied.

#4 50/50 doesn't actually exist

If you look closely, 50/50 only applies to areas men feel they can dominate women. They do not apply to areas where they want women to submit.

No 50/50 propaganda I have seen includes the fair division of household task or childcare. It is solely about money.

Which is why, and basing this off my first point, I believe it is an ego based punishment. Women emancipated, freed themselves financially and now men are trying to hurt them financially.

A real 50/50 movement would campaign for a complete division on all points that touch a marriage. Not just the financial ones, especially as women have said, over and over than they want men who pull their weight around the house and with the children. They have expressed being tired of weaponised incompetence, and being married single mothers.

To sum up:

If you want to be a woman who lives in her Feminine energy as much as she desires, stop falling for the ego trap of the 50/50. You do not need to prove to any man that you are worth is time and effort. A man that does not understand the value of a woman is uneducated at best, an idiotic ass most likely, a danger to you at worst.

When the society you live in is favouring men in all financial, material aspects, you do not put yourself in a position to match them. You lean into your Feminine energy and receive.

Only you decides what you allow yourself to receive. Whether it is someone who'll financially abuse you and drain you, or someone who will try to make your life easier, more comfortable that's on you.

My advice to women is to not get into any type of relationship where the other person is not making your life easier. Build your own dream life, and if you meet someone along the way who strives to make that road more easy for you (whether that is finically, materially, physically, emotionally, mentally) then they may be worth spending time with.

Also, the male loneliness epidemic is an interesting topic that touches on this 50/50 as it is a consequence of it too. Should you people ask nicely, I might write on it. There have been many studies done on it. And my borderline genius brain has stocked enough information to be able to condense in an accessible manner for those who are interested.

Hope this helps 💕

Why do you think 50/50 is bad

because I wasn’t raised like that, I won’t let my brother have that mindset and nor will my son ever be raised the same way. Any rational and sane woman brings enough to the table, the last thing she needs to do is pitch in financially unless there’s a grave issue. Everyone provides something for their partner and sane women go over and beyond to provide that in other ways. No contribution to any relationship- be it emotional, financial or otherwise - can ever be fully 50-50 because a) measuring these things means you really don’t love each other b) you could not measure them even if you tried due to their subjectivity c) it’s a relationship, not a competition nor a pot luck

Women and men are different and their differences are unique, but work and personal lives at times demand different energies - at work, I have to embody a more masculine persona and when I come home from work I have no intention of being a man in the house too. I’ve been in relationships where I’ve done the whole 50-50 and honestly? It just makes the man lazy and not creative and you end up scrambling for the bare minimum. I remember the first time being courted by a man who was an absolute gentleman and how wonderful he made me feel - that’s when my stance on 50-50 completely switched. He made me feel like a woman, and I loved that feeling. I never felt obliged to have sex with him, I learned how to finally relax and trust someone, it actually made me voluntarily put more effort in our relationship and shower him with affection, than otherwise.

I will never ever be the cool girl who “doesn’t need flowers” or “I’m so chill haha you can do what you want babe” or “of course you can be friends with your ex babe!” absolutely NOT. I like being loved, I like being spoiled, I believe in certain boundaries with friends and families, I am not cool with anything and everything. That’s what makes me inaccessible by many.

If a man who is romantically interested in me and likewise with me, ever tries to split the bill with me…. Not only will he be friendzoned, but I’ll pick up the whole cheque and block him after and think of it as my exit fee. Or if I can’t block him because our families know each other or whatever, he’s automatically placed in the friend zone and I will personally ensure that none of my closest girls ever has to date that miser.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[moongothic]

You know when I originally suggested that maybe Dragon is the one who gave Crocodile his scar and/or took his left hand --if only because [Dragon not recognizing the big scary man with a baby when he was supposed to go see his wife, assuming the worst and acting accordingly] would make for an A-Class tragedy and great fucking drama (something which I would expect to see in One Piece)-- I wasn't fully convinced with the idea, I just considdered it just another option on What Could Have Happened between those two to get us where we are ...But the more I think about it, the more I've started to kind of believe it. And for two key reasons, first being kind of everything we know about Whitebeard, and the second being the basic logistics around the suggested scenario to begin with

By which I mean; if Dragon had indeed gone to see his wife so he could deliver their newborn baby to Garp, but instead came face-to-face with a man he had never seen before but who just happened to have the exact same and very specific facial scar as his wife and/or the same god damn hook... Like I can't say he SHOULD be able to recognize Crocodile instantly, but also, surely either of those features would make him stop for a moment think and/or talk before he'd jump into action, let alone if the man had both the scar and the hook. Of course, there is an argument to be made that maybe Crocodile had a smaller hook originally that no longer fit on his wrist after getting jacked so maybe Crocodile just wasn't wearing any hook at all, and a missing limb isn't an unusual disability on its own, at least not enough to faze Dragon. And who knows, maybe the two were supposed to meet on a dark and stormy night, in which case between the low light and the rain it could've been hard for Dragon to see any scars on Crocodile's face from a distance. These are both reasonable arguments, absolutely. But, as I have mentioned a few times before, sometimes the path of least resistance might be the most likely option as far as story speculation goes. If Crocodile had both his hands and no scar on his face, then Dragon wouldn't have had any way to immidiately and instantly recognize Croc (aside from his fashion sense) as he would've been missing (what we would now considder) his most distinquishing features. Which would it much easier for Dragon to jump into action and attack the strange man without a second thought.

And then there's Whitebeard. Whitebeard, who was kind of famous for stomping rookie pirates only to invite them to join his crew as his "sons", but who also had a weird thing about not having women in his crew (his nurses aside), because he believed "women do not belong on a battlefield". For one, that actually kind of supports the "Crocodile is openly trans" theory because, again, how the fuck would Croc have been pre-t AND stealth as a Wardlord getting his shit kicked in by Whitebeard? Like it's not impossible, as we have discussed many times before (and that is not the point of this post!!), but once again it would be easier to just assume Crocodile was still living as a woman at this point in time. And indeed, that could answer the question of "why would Whitebeard not invite Crocodile into his crew to be one of his children like Ace and everyone else?". If Croc was still living and presenting as a woman at this point, Whitebeard would not have even wanted him in his crew. (Sidenote but since Whitebeard seemed to have no issues with Jinbei hanging around the Moby Dick despite being a Warlord I don't think Crocodile's Shichibukai status should've had any impact on WB's ability to invite him to his crew. To be fair though, Jinbei did join the Shichibukai much later so it is possible WB could've just changed his position on the subject over the years) And that leads to this question; if Whitebeard has that kind of views on women, then would he ever go as far as to severely injure and scar (someone he viewed as) a woman right on their face? With an attack that could have very easily chopped Crocodile's entire head in half like a god damn burger bun if he weren't careful? Do you think Whitebeard would have chopped Crocodile's left hand off and left him permanently disabled if he viewed him as a woman who shouldn't be a fighter to begin with? Yes, to be fair, we do not know the circumstances under which Crocodile challenged Whitebeard into a fight and what kind of a pirate Crocodile had been up until that point, what his reputation had been and if he had done anything in particular to invite Whitebeard's wrath (much like Kid and Barto with Shanks). Like for all we know he could've done something truly heinous and fucked up enough that Whitebeard thought teaching him a lesson was justified.

Just, looking at all of these notes together, I can't help but to feel that it's actually very plausible Dragon could be the one responsible for one of Crocodile's injuries if not both (if Crocodad Real).

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang’s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. “Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridescent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.

[winchestergirl2]

I was so excited to get to Friday for this chapter, and then I got a damn migraine, so I haven't been able to read it until now. So diving right in...

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, Sheriff. And I’ve told you: I don’t know where she is now,” Diane reiterated with the same infuriating smile. Her gray eyes then wandered to a wall clock behind the men. “At least not yet.”

She's tormenting them. She doesn't know where she is now... but she's going to?? Does her accomplise take them somewhere Diane doesn't know where before they end up in the bunker?

“Am I?” Diane quirked a brow and then sent him an innocent smile. “About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

Oh!! She's done her homework, hasn't she?!

“Too bad. I always liked the autumn sunsets. When it gets dark sooner…” Diane then stretched out her neck.

Her eyes flickered around the bleak, depressing room. “I miss windows. Haven’t seen the outside for days.”

Huh, what is she up to now? Is it when she's being moved, or is there something else going on, too?

Poppernak shot Beau a look, and only when the latter gave his agreement, did the deputy nod. “Yes, Sheriff Arlen.”

Good ol' Poppernak. He's a loyal one!

Oh, our girl's putting up a fight!! Nice move... It sounds like training with Beau paid off.

“Did you know bear traps are actually pretty easy to get out of?” Beau babbles a random fact in his usual manner when neither of you has said anything in a minute.

Thank goodness for Beau and his random facts, and that she remembered it!!

And then, suddenly, Hal Turner stood in front of you with a shovel.

Oh no!!! Seriously, on the edge of my seat with this!

Cassie and Denise to the rescue! That's the cabin isn't it!!

Ok, so they have found his vehicle and the cabin. Thank goodness!! But there's no one there 😔.

Ah, she took a screwdriver... that gives me a little more hope (probably misguided, lol) when Turner appeared in front of her in the woods.

We’ll find her. You’re not losing her again, alright?”

Randy could only nod and hope, but a little tug on his heart told him something different as he glanced at his former friend.

Is that because he thinks they're not going to find her in time or because he's beginning to realise that he is going to lose her to Beau after all.

I really enjoyed that scene in the car between Beau and Randy. Felt like an honest conversation between them where they both learned a few truths about each other's relationships with her.

I have to say I was surprised to hear what had happened between her and Randy. I'm guessing the fact he knew she asked Carla about a divorce attorney adds to his fear that he's going to lose her to Beau if they find her. Also, I'm pleased that conversation made Beau realise he was being an idiot too and gave him the kick up the backside he needed.

Oh wow, Hal stumbled right out in front of them! Does that mean that the bunker is nearby?!

Of course, he removes that screwdriver before they had the chance to get any information from him.

But his green eyes only found an email and darkened at the sender’s name. “Diane just sent me a link.”

Randy, caught in his own spiral, suddenly glanced up. “To what?”

“Livestream.”

I have so many questions. How did she do that???? She's locked up, isn't she? Did Diane have this all planned and set a timer to send the link? Did Hal set it up before he stumbled out in front of them? Or is something else going on?!

Polaris – Chapter 12

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, a heavy dose of angst, kidnapping, violence, injuries, serial killers, death, an awful cliffhanger

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! 🥳 We jump straight into 2025 with an angsty banger 👀

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 12: Through

On one of the sunniest mornings Helena had seen in recent days, the peaceful quiet of the early risers in the Sheriff’s Department was disturbed by one restless sheriff.

Beau was taking his office apart – bit by bit, nail by nail, panel by panel, brick by brick.

The search for you had gone on all night and yielded zero results. You were nowhere to be found. For all Beau knew, you could be dead by now and buried in the vast woods of Montana.

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away.

“You okay?” Jenny checked carefully.

“I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

“Thought you already found that hours ago,” Jenny noted with a raised brow.

“Can’t be too careful…” the sheriff murmured, his focus landing on the pile of pens on his desk. The silver one – had that always been there? He picked it up. “Does this look normal to you?”

Jenny only offered a shrug.

“Never mind,” Beau muttered and reduced the pen down to its individual parts. Nothing. Just a plain, old pen.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“What d’you think?”

At five in the morning, Beau had promised Jenny he’d snooze for half an hour on the couch in his office. He did lie down, stared at the suspended ceiling tiles for about a minute, and then remembered the damn camera.

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy.

How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

“Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you that Randy went into Interrogation Room 2 with Diane…”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah…” Jenny exhaled a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame. “He said you’d deputized him and authorized it, but I had a feeling that wasn’t true.”

Beau ran a hand across his face, rubbing his beard.

Rule #3: She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.

Rule #4: You’re not the boss of me.

“Well, I did deputize him,” Beau admitted. He had given his former partner a long leash, not expecting he’d bolt through the backyard.

“Beau…” Jenny clearly didn’t approve.

“He left me no choice, alright?!”

Well, no choice his guilt could deal with.

The sheriff then left his destroyed office and thundered into Interrogation Room 2 down the hall. Randy wouldn’t get to do this alone. Beau knew there was an ulterior motive – if only Randy saved you, he could also miraculously save his marriage. Randy was a persistent motherfucker. He wouldn’t give up.

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Beau charged in with steam coming out of his ears. For a moment, his anger was so focused on his friend, he didn’t even notice the rising smile on Diane’s lips.

“Good morning, Sheriff Arlen.” Even if Diane’s voice sounded melodious, to Beau it was still chalk on board. “Remodeling the office, are we?”

“You mind?” Randy prompted stand-offishly, glancing up at the sheriff. “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Outside. Now,” was all Beau said.

Defiantly and miffed by the authoritative tone, Randy followed him to the hall.

“Play nice, boys!” Diane’s voice echoed through before the door fell into its lock.

“What d’you think you’re doing? You can’t just talk to our prime suspect without my presence!” Beau roared.

Randy rolled his eyes back. “Didn’t know I needed a babysitter…”

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

“Yeah, which is why I’m talking to the only lead we have! That bitch knows where she is,” Randy countered with an equal amount of fury.

“She’s not gonna tell you!”

Randy only shrugged – cocky in nature and completely unlike him. And Beau then realized something that had changed: His friend wouldn’t back down anymore and bend. Those days were over, and it was probably Beau’s own fault.

“We’ll see,” Randy said stubbornly, his hand wandering back to the door handle. “You comin’?”

Beau inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before nodding – and back into the lion’s den they went.

Diane welcomed them with a sneer. “All made up?”

“Tell us where Turner took her,” Randy demanded with a stern expression and firm voice.

If Randy wanted to play bad cop, the role of good cop fell to Beau by default. And although they had never ever played it that way before, Beau figured Randy carried more anger than even him right now. He might as well let him make good use of it.

“Can’t.” Diane twitched her shoulders. “Hal doesn’t tell me.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe that?” Beau lifted a brow in mock. “C’mon, Diane…”

“It’s true,” she said, smiling. “Call it an insurance policy in case one of you Neanderthals decides to go rogue on me – looking at you specifically, Sheriff Arlen. If you leave your own partner to die in a filthy warehouse, I don’t wanna know what you do to your enemies.” She then looked at Randy, whispering behind her palm, “You know, I think he did it on purpose.”

Beau clicked his tongue and snorted humorlessly. “Alright, Diane, you’ve had your fun. You’ve wreaked havoc… You’ve won, okay? Fair and square. Just give up your partner, tell us where Y/N is, and end this once and for all. Might even get a better deal if you do. Think about it. Murdering an FBI agent doesn’t look good in front of a judge and jury. We have iron-clad proof you killed at least five people in Texas. Capital murder, death penalty… See where I’m going with this?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, Sheriff. And I’ve told you: I don’t know where she is now,” Diane reiterated with the same infuriating smile. Her gray eyes then wandered to a wall clock behind the men. “At least not yet.”

Randy and Beau both followed her gaze and stared at that same clock. Their eyes widened.

“Then when?” Randy prompted.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon.” Diane smirked. “If she makes it out alive, she can tell you in person she’s choosing the rugged sheriff here over you, Detective Nichols.”

Randy’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching and unclenching under the metal table.

“I gave her a fighting chance.”

“Oh, you mean like the others?” Beau had known from the start that it would be useless talking to her.

“They all could’ve gotten out,” said Diane as if she blamed the victims for not being smarter and more durable. “‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk, “Yeah, I know about the cute little nicknames for your deputies too, Sheriff. I wonder how many bugs you’ve found yet in your office. Sure it can’t be all of them. Maybe I’ve bugged the whole station. Who’s to say? Have you checked your trailer yet? The lovely agent’s motel room? No?”

Beau couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling that clutched his heart and twisted it like a boa constrictor. Pain, fear, anger, sadness – a deadly cocktail for anyone. Was this throbbing sting in his chest what a heart attack felt like? Only recently, he’d read an article in the paper about a guy his age who just dropped dead. Was this it for him?

Would it mean he'd get to see you again, though?

“Enough of that!”

Randy’s voice rang in his ears, but Beau couldn’t refocus. He needed fresh air to breathe, his lungs dried up and clinging to every molecule like he’d been deprived of oxygen for days. The small room felt suddenly suffocating as the monster across from him sneered joyfully.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re saying all that horseshit ‘cause you wanna hurt him or me,” Randy said, his voice laced with a darkness Beau had never seen before.

“Little bit of both,” Diane teased with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care either way,” Randy huffed, the deep creases in his brow casting threatening shadows on his face. “Do your worst to me or him. Hell, burn us at the stake if it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, but all I wanna know is where that bunker is. Where is she? Your beef’s clearly with us. Men, right? You know she doesn’t deserve this. Just let her go.”

Diane seemed unamused by the suggestion, leaning back in the metal chair. “You’re right. She doesn’t deserve this. I actually like her. She reminds me of me. But you two did this to her. It’s out of my hands at this point. You don’t deserve her, sheriff,” she said and looked at Beau before her cold eyes shifted to Randy. “Neither do you, detective. I know a lot of things – and not just about the sheriff here. I know what you did to her, too.”

Randy forced a tight smile. “You’re bluffing. I didn’t do anything.”

“Am I?” Diane quirked a brow and then sent him an innocent smile. “About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

With a thick swallow and a glare swimming in his hazel eyes, Randy nodded. “We’re done here.”

Diane let out a long, suspenseful sigh, not bothering to engage further. Her icy heart wouldn’t melt. Her eyes flickered around the bleak, depressing room. “I miss windows. Haven’t seen the outside for days.”

“Yeah, and you ain’t gonna,” Beau huffed. He had quietly listened, his heart rate slowing down as his head started spinning with questions. You had never told him anything. He had never asked. It had been an unspoken rule to not talk about your marriage. Beau always figured knowing too much would only make it worse.

“Too bad. I always liked the autumn sunsets. When it gets dark sooner…” Diane then stretched out her neck. “Anyways, nice chatting with you boys, but it’s time for my beauty nap now. Which one of you two cowboys is gonna accompany me back to my cell, hm?”

The men shared a look and then wordlessly rose, leaving the room. In the safety of the hallway, Beau ran a hand over his face and took his first deep breath.

Air. Lungs. Brain. Without toxicity, he could finally think straight again.

“Well, this was pointless and a waste of our time. Happy now?” Beau huffed with his newfound lung capacity.

But Randy’s brow was furrowed. He was thinking. “Actually, yeah… Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, bunch of narcissistic bullshit. She’s not gonna tell us where Y/N is,” Beau muttered bitterly. If possible, he wished to never converse with that psychotic witch again. There was only so much he could handle before snapping her neck.

“She said that she doesn’t know where Y/N is now,” Randy pointed out. “Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe Y/N’s not in the bunker yet. Turner might keep her somewhere else and wait till he can move her.”

“At sundown,” Beau mused, Diane’s words haunting his mind. “He’ll move her when it’s dark.”

“Which means we still have a couple hours to find her,” Randy finished the thought.

“Popcorn!” Beau yelled down the hallway. The sheriff found himself in better spirits. He hadn’t used a silly name for his most loyal deputy in days, although it ached a tiny bit to say it now. “Any properties in Newton’s name?”

“Yes, sir, several,” Mo replied.

“I need a list of all in the area. Get a team together and search ‘em. One by one,” Beau ordered. “Warehouses, cabins… Take it all apart. I don’t care.”

“And also see if any properties are in Hal Turner’s name and add them to the list,” Randy suggested.

Poppernak shot Beau a look, and only when the latter gave his agreement, did the deputy nod. “Yes, Sheriff Arlen.”

The obnoxiously loud sound of birds woke you from a deep slumber. Groggily, you pried your eyes open and found the first few beams of sunlight warming your face. For a peaceful moment of dazed bliss, you had no clue where you were or how you got here.

There was a thumping, searing pain in your skull, hammering away at your sanity like the ticks of a clock. Your neck and shoulders hurt from tension till you realized you were bound to an old wooden chair, a harsh and creaking surface underneath you. Your behind felt both sore and numb.

Glancing around the room, you noticed you were in the living quarters of a small cabin. A fireplace sat to your right. Above it, a cuckoo clock that showed shortly past noon, and you realized that must’ve produced the bird noise that woke you. The stinging sunlight reached your eyes and filled you with hope.

Hal Turner hadn’t locked you into a bunker yet.

“You’re awake. Good.” Turner entered the room with a bottle of water and a sandwich, throwing the items unceremoniously onto your lap. “You need to eat. We’ll leave soon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where they all went,” he said and came up behind you. Turner wasn’t a man of tall stature. Small, middle-aged, nervous. Non-threatening.

Diane’s little ant.

He cut your ties, and you could tell his hands were shaking. They didn’t treat the others like that. Entertaining a victim had never been his job before.

Sedated, dumped, marooned.

That had been the pattern, and you hoped this little off-course adventure would pay off with your freedom. Your gaze drifted down to a lonely brown belt buckle.

Unarmed.

With free hands and Turner still vulnerably behind you, your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck. Fortunately, he wasn’t as heavy as Beau in training when you jolted him forward, jumped up, and rammed his face straight into your knee.

Unconscious for the moment, Turner tumbled to the ground, and you sprinted through the front door. You hoped it would give you enough time to find an exit.

But all you found was a vast sea of trees – towering pines that reached heavenward with no neighboring houses or roads in sight.

There was a shed to your left. Tools. You needed weapons.

And, most of all, you needed more goddamn time to think your way out of this one.

It wasn’t long till you heard the front door of the cabin slam open, heavy and angry footsteps aimlessly searching before they slowly circled closer to the shed.

Fortunately, your little hide-out had proved itself useful – and fully stocked. Turner had arranged his tools in a neatly organized manner. Nothing seemed to be out of place, screwdrivers hanging on the wall from small to big, pliers, drills, hacksaws… Your weapons of choice, however, fell on a hammer and the heaviest, biggest wrench.

Lurking behind the small barn door, you lay in wait till the old door creaked open and Hal Turner walked through. He only blinked at you wide-eyed before your first hit with the wrench landed across his right cheek. It was hard enough for blood to spew out of his mouth, and as he tumbled forward, you delivered your second blow – the hammer, this time, slamming against the back of his head.

Dropping the tools, you decided to take your chances and make a run through the woods for it. You still had a few fleeting hours till dark. If you just kept going, maybe you’d make it to a road or a town somewhere before you froze to death.

What a great outlook…

However, you didn’t even get farther than a few yards from the house before a sharp pain seared from your ankle throughout your entire body. Falling harshly and bracing yourself on the cold, wet leaves, you screamed out and looked down at the culprit – a bear trap.

Well, points for Hufflepuff!

Apparently, you had underestimated Turner. Ahead of you, you also spied some tripwire. Great. This place was a giant death trap – and you had already hated the woods before all of this.

Getting back onto your feet was not only hindered by the giant claws in your flesh but also the iron chain attached to the trap that tethered you to the ground. So, with your freezing hands, you dug out the metal stake that served as your anchor.

Then, the fucking bear trap – you knew this one would hurt like a son of a bitch. Carefully, you inspected the oozing wound, the razor sharp edges deeply clutching your skin at your lower calf and ankle. For a moment, you even swore you could feel the tips of their pointed teeth drilling into your bone. You tried to pry them apart with your hands but gave up on that idea rather quickly once the jaws cut your fingers.

Glancing at the shed, you saw the door was still ajar. It was quiet in there. Either Hal Turner was gone, solely unconscious, or currently bleeding to death. The shed was your Schrödinger’s cat. As long as you didn’t know which one it was, you still had time.

Taking several deep breaths, you closed your eyes and remembered the trip you took with Beau when you were back in Houston. The two of you drove camping in Piney Woods. For a few days, you were gone and unknown to everyone around you. You could just be you and him. No one had to hide anything. No one had to feel guilty. In those short days, you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Did you know bear traps are actually pretty easy to get out of?” Beau babbles a random fact in his usual manner when neither of you has said anything in a minute. He glances at you, a happy smile on his face as he intertwines his fingers with yours during a stroll through the green and lush forest.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, all you gotta do is not panic, get up on your feet, and press your weight down on the springs at the bottom. Just pops open and you can pull your leg out,” he explains with a popping sound, turning the little lesson into a show-and-tell.

“Don’t panic…” you mumbled to yourself and sat up. “Get up…” With a strained groan and your palms supportively on the ground, you heaved yourself to your feet. You winced as you put pressure on your injured leg and, therefore, tried to shift your weight to your good one. The main problem was the next step: “Press down.”

Mentally, you braced yourself before you slowly started to put pressure on the leg again. The jaws moved and wiggled in your flesh, but the pain was too much too bear. You bit down on your tongue as tears strangled your eyes.

Alright, next try.

If slow was too painful, then maybe the bandaid method was the way to go. Quick and painless, as they say. You inhaled and exhaled through your nose as you raised your foot a few inches above ground, making sure the springs would hit the uneven surface properly. Then, you kicked down.

The trap sprung open, you pulled your foot out, and released a primal scream that echoed through the quiet woods, surely disturbing whatever lived there.

And then, suddenly, Hal Turner stood in front of you with a shovel.

Diane’s listed properties came up empty. There was still no sign of you. Turner, on the other hand, had only booked a motel room in his name but hadn’t been seen there in weeks. So, Beau figured he had to be staying somewhere if he wasn’t sleeping in his room.

At four o’clock, the sheriff was close to a breakdown when all leads petered out and the daylight was almost gone. But then Cassie and Denise stormed the station, both out of breath, and brought forth a document that showed a property north of Helena in the name of a Diane Turner. It was a remote cabin in the middle of the woods, which also happened to be close to the location where the ambulance had picked up Randy.

Ding, ding, ding!

Beau gathered the whole cavalry and raced there as fast as he could. By the time he was ten minutes out, the sky had grown dark, the woods pitch-black around him. Switching on the Jeep’s headlights only added to the uneasiness in his stomach. His passenger was quiet next to him, but Beau could tell how worried Randy was by the way his left leg anxiously drummed against the floor mat.

Both of them thought it was too late to save you.

An access road, all dirt, led up behind the cabin, only making it a short hike. Turner’s vehicle had been parked at the fork where it reached pavement. They seemed to be on the right track. After all, if Turner was here, then hopefully so were you.

Beau and Randy were the first to arrive, the cabin inside dark without a single light on, not even a candle burning in the smudged windows. Carefully, the men stepped on the porch, the property around them quiet and undisturbed, but the front door was an inch ajar. Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest.

They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

The floorboards creaked under Beau’s boots as he treaded down the hallway. The cabin was small, only consisting of one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen and bath. While the men checked each room, Beau already knew you weren’t here anymore – if you’d ever been here to begin with. Maybe Diane had sent them on a wild goose-chase, another sick game created by the mind of psychopath, while you had been locked in a bunker all along, waiting for him to find you.

How much air did you still have left? Would he get to you in time?

“Beau!”

His partner’s voice drew him from the bedroom to the living space, his mind still rattling with the unspoken fear of losing you. His green eyes then focused on the beam of Randy’s flashlight as it shone on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, a set of cut plastic ties on the floor next to it. There was also an uneaten sandwich and an unopened bottle of water scattered on the ground.

And then, there were the trails, the little drops, and the sheer pools of blood everywhere that made his gut churn. Was it all yours?

“We need to get forensics here,” Beau said with a thick swallow, already pulling out his phone to call Jenny.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Randy said with a lump in his throat, his eyes transfixed on the little red pond by the tips of his feet. And although it was dark, Beau could see the color drain from his partner’s face.

“I know.” Beau bobbed his head quietly, gently clasping his friend’s shoulder as he held his phone to his ear.

The sheriff then informed Jenny of their findings, telling her to hurry any lab results along. The sooner they knew whose blood it was, the better. As he hung up, he noticed Randy following a trail of blood to the door, leading further outside. He shone his flashlight through the dense foliage before it landed on a little working shed to the right.

As Randy creaked the door of the shed open, with Beau behind him, both thought there was a high probability they’d stumble upon a body in there – if not two.

Instead, the shed was disappointingly empty.

Beau whistled lowly as the light hit the neatly arranged wall of tools. “Well, that’s some freak level organization.”

But Randy’s brow furrowed as his light landed on the ground behind the door. “There’s a hammer and wrench on the ground.” He knelt down to inspect it closer. “Got blood on it. Lot of it.”

Beau chuckled lightly and ran a palm over his face to keep the stinging tears of hope inside, which only confused Randy.

“What’s so funny? Y/N might be dead,” Randy said sourly.

“That’s not Turner’s doing,” Beau argued and gestured at the tools on the ground, his heart flooding with a tiny bit of relief. “Look at the wall. Why would he kill her with tools? It’s way too bloody. Guy like this can’t handle the mess. He had a perfectly fine gun. Would’ve been way cleaner if he wanted to.”

“So, you think this was Y/N?” Randy thought for a moment before nodding. “The ties inside were cut. The food and water on the floor… Maybe he cut her loose and she took advantage of it? I mean, it does sound like her.”

“Yeah…” Beau’s eyes then musingly drifted back to the wall. “Is there a screwdriver on the ground somewhere? There’s one missing here.”

“Nope, nothing on the ground,” Randy replied once his flashlight search was complete. “You think she took it with her?”

“Let’s hope so…”

“But if Y/N managed to overpower Turner, why isn’t she here? And where’s Turner? And if it happened out here, why is there so much blood inside?”

Beau licked his chapped lips, his brow returning to their initially creased position. “Maybe she didn’t take him out for good.”

“You thinkin’ she knocked him out and escaped?”

“Yeah, and then Turner woke up, went back into the house before taking off after her through those woods,” Beau shared his theory. It would explain the vast amounts of blood inside.

“So, your theory is she’s lost and being hunted?” Randy cocked a brow.

Beau only offered him a shrug. “Best possible scenario.”

“Great.” Randy scoffed. “What’s the worst possible scenario then?”

Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think we both know.” Licking his lips, he patted Randy’s shoulder. “But let’s not think about the worst right now. I’ll get a team going to search these woods. We’ll find her. You’re not losing her again, alright?”

Randy could only nod and hope, but a little tug on his heart told him something different as he glanced at his former friend.

“It’s been three hours,” Randy huffed frustratedly as they passed the same street sign to Helena down the mountain once more, driving up and down the roads around the cabin in an endless loop, hoping and praying a miracle would happen. “Don’t you think we would’ve found her by now? If she’s hurt and inside those woods, we should be in there looking for her.”

Beau passed another sigh between his lips. There had been three hours of that, too. Patience was a not only an eight-letter word but a bitch as well.

“Neither of us is any help there. We don’t know those woods. You don’t even a phone, Randy,” Beau said with a bit more firmness in his voice, causing his partner’s frown to deepen. Saved by the bell, Beau’s phone chimed in his pocket with Jenny’s angelic name popping up on the screen. He pulled over on the side of the road before picking up.

“What you got? Uh-huh… You sure? What did they say about the cabin? Okay… Both of ‘em? How far? Which direction? Alright… We’re close. Driving back up there now.”

Randy held his breath till Beau hung up, trying to guess the content of the phone call by the various facial expressions of the sheriff. Then, he asked, “Good news or bad news?”

“Hard to say,” Beau replied, his eyes fixed on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He swallowed the lump in his throat, gave himself an encouraging nod, and started the engine, trying to sink every bad theory that surfaced in his mind. “Forensics came back. Our theory was partially correct. The blood inside the cabin was mostly Turner’s.”

Randy raised a brow, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. “Mostly?”

“Evidence points to her not escaping. Turner might have gotten to her before she could even leave the property. They found a bear trap with her blood on it,” Beau explained slowly, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Dogs picked up a trail, leading into the woods. Forensics confirmed both of their blood on that trail.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve followed her. She still could’ve escaped,” Randy replied and knew full well it was only sugarcoating the truth swimming in the lower pits of his belly.

“Could’ve…” Beau nodded and swallowed heavily. “But then again, if she did manage to escape, how did her blood end up inside the cabin?”

Defeated, Randy licked his lips, expelling a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, guess my hopes are little too high. I mean, how the hell would you get out of a bear trap?”

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

“Uh-huh. I remember. I’ve spent a lot of time with you…” Randy smacked his lips, fingers tapping his thigh. “You guys went on a trip together?”

Beau’s mouth opened on reflex, but he stopped himself from replying, shooting a scrutinizing look at his partner. “Yeah, uh, just the one, really. Shoulda been more…”

Regrets seeped to the surface. If Beau had known he had only a finite amount of time with you, he would’ve enjoyed and appreciated every last second of it. He should’ve spent less time in his head. He should’ve taken you out on more dates. He should’ve been the best he could be. Instead, he wasted so much time and couldn’t even remember why in retrospect.

“What makes you say that?” Randy’s question rang both with curiosity and pain. His brown eyes stared stubbornly ahead and focused on the dark road.

Beau blew a long sigh. “Well, I wasn’t always the best–,” he hesitated a moment before saying the word, “–boyfriend, I guess.”

If Randy was upset by the term, he didn’t let it show. Maybe he was sticking to Rule #2. He quirked a brow and glanced at Beau in the driver’s seat. “So, on top of stealing my wife, you’re telling me you didn’t even treat her right?”

“Guess so,” Beau admitted quietly, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and ignoring the subtle jab. “And I didn’t treat her badly, by the way. Just could’ve tried harder. Felt guilty because she was your-, well, you know… And the divorce got kinda messy, too. I just wanted to stay clear of complications.”

Exasperated, Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “This is not really making me want to give you my blessing…”

Beau huffed a chuckle. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it’s not. You don’t deserve her.” Randy clicked his tongue, pensively bobbing his head. He then finally admitted, the words sounding almost sour, “Neither do I. You might be as big of an idiot as me.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise, his focus briefly swaying from the road. “What d’you mean? You guys were perfect together. Is this about what Newton said?”

Randy’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Y/N never told you?”

“Told me what?”

Randy chewed on his lower lip before pushing out the words that had plagued him for three years. “She wanted to leave me.”

Beau shook his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. She loved you. You should’ve seen her after she thought you’d died.”

Randy inhaled sharply, his head spinning with regret and heart filling with hope. For the past years, he had wondered if he’d ever get another chance to fix things with you.

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Beau listened and nodded. He remembered the set dinner table, the lovingly prepared food, the candles – it didn’t seem like something one would do if they planned on leaving.

“No, I don’t think she would’ve left you,” Beau noted, although his heart stung when he said it out loud.

“I overheard her asking Carla for a divorce lawyer. Pretty sure she was,” Randy retorted. “Seems silly now. She was already out of my league. I should’ve just given her what she wanted. I don’t even know why I didn’t. I should’ve just shut up and been grateful.”

“That’s what I would’ve told you to do,” Beau muttered, his brain trying to keep track and process everything. Why had you never told him any of this? And more importantly: “Why have you never told me?”

“Guess I was embarrassed.” Randy shrugged. “And I already knew what you would’ve said.”

Secretly amused, Beau cocked a brow. “What? That you’re an idiot?”

“Exactly.”

“And Carla knew?”

“I guess.” Randy gave another shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, they talked all the time. Well, mostly it was Carla complaining about you, but still…”

Beau’s brow furrowed into deep lines. He should’ve been more surprised than he was. The only thing that really baffled him was the fact you had still agreed to date him after hearing all of that. What else didn’t he know?

“I thought they met once a week for book club?”

Randy shot him a pitying look. “Dude, there was no book club. Only three bottles of wine.” He then exhaled a long sigh, stretching back into his seat. “Maybe it’s good she didn’t pick anyone. She deserves someone who can give her what she wants.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” A little offended, Beau raised his brow. “You know, when she came back a few weeks ago, I swore I’d make things right. I wouldn’t let her go this time.”

But Beau broke that promise. He pushed you away to stay clear of complications. His heart twinged.

“And you think she wanted to live in a trailer in the woods of Montana?”

“Doesn’t matter. I would’ve given her anything she wanted. No questions asked,” Beau stated simply. “I was happy when I was with her. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing.”

“So, what? You planned on marrying her? Kids?”

Beau twitched his shoulders, his eyes not drifting from the street. If he glanced at Randy only for a beat, he couldn’t ignore his friend’s reactions any longer and still remain honest. “We never talked about it, but... If that’s what she wants, then yeah. Don’t even have to think about it. You really were an idiot, you know?”

“I know that. Thank you,” Randy huffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “Still not getting my blessing, though.”

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

“You’re one to talk.” Randy scoffed mockingly. “I met your friend Denise at the station. We had a long chat. She almost talks as much as you. Sounded like you tried to have a say in who Carla should marry. Little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“That’s different,” Beau retorted defensively. “We have a kid together. Whoever Carla’s seeing is also gonna be in Emily’s life.”

“So, you don’t even care a little about Carla’s well-being? ‘Cause Denise said you killed her new husband,” Randy countered cleverly.

“Of course I care,” Beau admitted frustratedly. What did Randy want to hear? That he was right about everything? Well, except one thing: “And I didn’t kill Avery, by the way. Might have been slightly responsible for his death, sure, but I didn’t kill the idiot.”

“Seems to be a pattern for you. Maybe Diane was right,” Randy muttered wryly.

Beau licked his lips and sighed. “Listen, I know that devil woman is good at getting into someone’s head, but you gotta believe me, man. I did not leave you to die. If I had known–”

“Whoa, I know,” Randy interrupted him with an amused chuckle and two placating hands. “I was just joking. I knew you didn’t hand me over to the cartel on purpose in some evil ploy to get with my wife. That would be insane.”

Beau gave a nod, accepting his answer with relief. “Well, good.”

“Look, I’m not delusional, contrary to what everyone’s thinking. I know things happened while I was away,” Randy admitted. “I figured she had moved on. For three years, I actually hoped she did. I wanted her to be happy. Just didn’t think it be you, I guess. Probably shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I kinda knew you always liked her. Just didn’t think any more of it, you know?”

“And there wasn’t more, alright? I promise,” Beau assured him, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. He never thought Randy would’ve suspected anything – not that there really ever was anything. But had his tiny crush really been that obvious? “One of those things, you know? Just ‘cause I find Michelle Rodriguez attractive doesn’t mean I seriously expect to date her. I didn’t know it was more than that till I spent some time with her.”

“Good to know,” was all Randy said, crossing his arms with an uncomfortable clear of his throat. “Definitely surprised Y/N likes you, though. She always had a pretty low opinion of you. Said you were doing shitty police work and I should be more careful. Guess she was right..." Beau shot him a darkened look but refrained from taking the bait. Randy pursed his lips. "Look, I know I’m a pain in your ass right now. You’d probably love to get rid of me.”

“Well, hey, that’s not–”

“What, true?” Knowingly, Randy lifted a brow. “I would if I were you.”

Beau only nodded, not admitting out loud the thought had certainly crossed his mind. “So, what are you thinking now?”

“Still want her to be happy,” Randy said quietly.

All of a sudden, Beau then slammed on the brakes, both men jolting forward into their seatbelts. A loud thud echoed through the car as something heavy hit the Jeep’s hood. For a moment, the sheriff thought he’d run into a deer before blinking his eyes at the bloodied and muddied image of Hal Turner.

“What the hell?!”

Turner was in rough shape, pantingly and deliriously stumbling around the car and onto the road, shielding his eyes from the blinding headlights with his palm. Blood dripped from various places from his head and body before Beau’s eyes narrowed on the metal tool stuck inside his neck.

“Guess we found our missing screwdriver,” Randy noted as the two men jumped out of the car, guns drawn.

“Where is she, Turner?” Beau prompted sternly, his finger itching to pull the trigger for everything he’d done to you. But knowing where you were was more important than a vendetta. Turner could only speak while he was alive.

And the man seemed to know it, too. Before the sheriff could call for back-up and an ambulance, Turner sneered and raised a hand, gripping the screwdriver tightly.

“No, don’t!”

Beau’s plea came too late. Hal Turner pulled the makeshift weapon out of his throat and collapsed to the ground, bleeding out within seconds.

Randy’s fingers landed on the man’s pulse point. He glanced up at his partner with a shake of his head. “He’s gone.”

Throwing his gun angrily into the rustling brushes, Beau gripped his temples and screamed into the void of the dark woods. Desperation clawed on his mind and heart. The fear of losing you for good took him prisoner. With labored breaths, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed his tired eyes. Turner had been his last lead. He knew more wouldn’t be coming.

What now?

A sanctimonious beep of his phone drew his attention. A small part of him prayed it was Jenny, informing him you’d emerged a few miles up the road – bloody like Turner, but otherwise fine. Alive.

But his green eyes only found an email and darkened at the sender’s name. “Diane just sent me a link.”

Randy, caught in his own spiral, suddenly glanced up. “To what?”

“Livestream.”

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain – JANUARY 10

Another cliffhanger, and it looks like Diane's still having the last laugh 🙈

What did you think of this part? Were you surprised by Randy's revelation? He might've changed his mind on a few things 😉

See ya next week for the freaking finale 🤍

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[hey-heigo]

Chapter 17

continuation of byakuya's no good very bad worst shit ass day of his life (so far)(!!!)

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

this chapter went a little different from how i originally planned bc I was going to make byakuya much more stupid. but. he needs to fly off the handle several times later so. we can't let loose all at once

to be very fair to makoto he did not want to do that. and yet. here we are

the king of kings!! @digitaldollsworld

Content warning tags: ableist language from various characters, Byakuya's panic spiral, mild self-harm reference

< previous - from start - next >

Time seems to grind to a halt. His breath is still caught in his throat, halfway through a relieved sigh as he had been waiting - expecting - for Makoto to help him. To pull up some vague, hidden piece of evidence to clear him of any suspicion, to cleverly point out some irrefutable proof that had previously lay unseen.

But instead - his heartbeats feel too heavy. His breathing feels too light, deprived of any real oxygen. His head pounds in the same way it did when he was struck earlier, with a dull, pulsing ring that washes out everything around him.

He prided himself, once, on being able to read a person’s intent. To judge just when and why they might choose to abandon him, to cross him, to try and use him for their own intents. For that reason, he supposes, is why this sickly, sticky feeling of dread is so new to him. He’s never known real betrayal before.

His eyes dart around the room, but the others don’t seem to believe Makoto just yet. Even Owada seems taken aback, stock still and quiet. Only Kirigiri seems unsurprised - or maybe, he was only imagining it, the tranquil quality of her silence. As if she were merely observing it all, far out of their reach.

“Seriously??” Syo’s voice is a grating jeer. “You’re telling me this whole time he had no idea what I looked like? No wonder he didn’t fall for me at first sight!”

“I…don’t think that’s the reason why,” Hagakure says, though he seems utterly bewildered. “But, that can’t be right, right? I’ve seen him reading loads of times. And he practically lives in the library, y’know?”

“Yeah, and he can do things just fine for himself.” Asahina says in agreement. “I mean, he does his own laundry and stuff, and he knows this place way better than me at least. I didn’t even know where the A/V room was during the first motive, I just sorta followed him.”

“Yes, this is sort of…” For the first time, Celeste sounds genuinely surprised, her usually unphased demeanor wavering, her accent slipping for a moment. “Ahem. While I did note that he sometimes seemed a bit…eccentric, so to speak, nothing of his actions suggested that he was impaired.”

Their skepticism is a small relief. He nods jerkily, unable to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth to verbalize his agreement. But it’s a small, pathetic movement that goes unnoticed, hardly amounting to anything in this large courtroom.

And their disbelief only goes so far. Ogami speaks up now, for the first time since the trial began, her low voice immediately silencing the whispers.

“I performed a concussion test on him earlier,” She says, gruffly. “As Kyoko had asked me to. He was lucid when answering my questions, and he didn’t seem to exhibit any symptoms that couldn’t be attributed to other reasons.” There’s a slight creak of wood, as she shifts her weight on the stand. “However, I did notice that his pupils were…strange.”

“My- what?” He sputters now, too suddenly, too loudly. He reaches up to touch slightly-trembling fingers to a closed eye, feeling the smooth bump of the cornea twitching beneath the thin skin of his eyelid as if he might be able to identify the damage that way. Why hadn’t she mentioned this earlier? Why bring it up now? “What do you mean, ‘strange’?!”

There’s a slight, panicked edge to his voice that he hopes no one catches, but this was the first time he heard that there could be physical evidence to his affliction. “It was a bit hard to test without the proper tools, but I noticed that they do not react much to changes in light.” Ogami explains. “The shape is also slightly…off. If I had to describe it, I would say that there is…a warping around the edges.”

“And you didn’t think to mention it?!”

“I assumed it was either due to the head injury, or, it was genetic.” There’s an apologetic note to her words. “Given your usual behavior, I…didn’t think it was important.”

Not important. As if she could know what was important here.

“I. Am not. Blind.” He snarls stiffly. “Obviously, I have never taken a close enough look at my own pupils to notice that deformation, but it has never affected my daily life. I am not disabled, nor have I ever been.”

“I find it hard to believe that you have never been aware of it.” Kyoko remarks, tone clipped. “I can’t imagine someone of your status being ignorant of anything concerning your physical health.”

“Then you can rest easy knowing that I am perfectly healthy.” He snaps back, venom flying off his words.

Distantly, he knows that he is digging a pit for himself. That admitting to this would help clear him of any suspicion at all. But he doesn’t care; he would rather die than suffer such indignity. That was what he’s always known, taught by his butler, and then reinforced by all his surroundings afterwards, his siblings, his father - better to perish and let your enemies cry with relief and count themselves lucky, than let them mock you as you dig your own grave.

“You should just admit it already. You are drawing this out to be unnecessarily long, or would you rather doom us all?”

“I don’t see why I should cooperate with someone who has been making mindless accusations at me all this while.”

There’s a tense, snappish tension between him and Kirigiri. A livewire current. A piece of elastic stretched taut. He glares, and to him, her blurred form looks like that of a reared snake.

“Um…” Asahina speaks up, her hand tentatively raised. “If Byakuya’s really blind, can’t we just test it?”

“Excuse me?”

“I-I mean! Not saying that you are blind, or anything,” She says this quickly, carefully, like soothing a spooked horse. “But, we’re not going to get anywhere if you two just keep arguing back and forth, and it’ll be really quick! Like, Sakura, can you hold up a few fingers?” She complies silently, one arm remaining crossed across her chest, the other raised to her side. “How many is she holding up?”

He tries not to squint, but he has no idea. Two? Three? It's nothing more that a blurred, brown shape. “You can’t be serious.” He almost laughs, but the sound he makes is derisive and bitter.

“Y-yes, this is-! Unfair!” Now it’s Yamada, speaking up again. “In case no one else has noticed, Mister Togami is lacking his spectacles! Asking such a thing of him…it’s akin to bullying!”

He’s oddly assertive about this, and Byakuya watches as he pushes his own glasses a little higher. For some reason, being considered something of an equal by Yamada irritates him further. “Shut up.” Who asked for his help.

“Yes, be still please,” Celeste sighs dismissively. “We are playing a game with our lives. This is hardly the time to be discussing moralistic issues.” There’s a slight metallic tap as she raps her silver finger guards against her rings. “But you do make a point. Byakuya does not have his glasses at the moment. It would be difficult to try and confirm anything without them.”

Thank goodness for those with common sense. He doesn’t look to his side, where she was standing, but he swears that he can see her eyes glancing at him, the unnatural red of her pupils bright on her pale face. “Yes,” he agrees, seizing upon it. “And they were broken earlier, thanks to Owada. Nearsightedness runs on my mother’s side, and the former Togami head was farsighted. I will admit that much, is that what you wanted? Kyoko?”

He’s rambling. He’s aware of it. But there are a few nods exchanged, and Asahina scratches at the back of her head awkwardly, as if embarrassed. Kirigiri, however, is still unmoved.

“No. When I say you are blind, I do not mean without your glasses. Or there wouldn’t have been a point in bringing it up in the first place.” Kirigiri shifts her weight slightly, the sway of her stance accompanied by the creak of wood. “Even without your glasses, you cannot do tasks such as reading. I imagine you’ve managed everything else by means of careful practice, but this is the one thing you can’t manage on your own.”

“Hey, Kyoko-” Makoto looks nervous, unsure whether to face him or her. “That-”

“And how do you plan to prove this?” Byakuya snarls. He feels a small flare of triumph, even despite everything, the looming threat of death. “As we found before, I don’t have my glasses. Did you happen to pick those up as well? Did you repair them for me while you were at it?”

Instead of offering a retort, or any sort of reply, she sighs. A soft, tired sound.

“Makoto.” She isn’t facing the other boy, but her tone is firm as she addresses him, and a little exasperated. She doesn’t say anything more, but Makoto seems to understand, and his hands drop to his sides.

“There is a way to prove it.” His voice is quiet. Quiet, and…sad, somehow. Defeated. “Byakuya…please show us your handbook.”

The realization sets in slowly. He’s already been betrayed by Makoto twice now, but still, he finds himself stunned, slack-jawed. This one was the worst by far - not only was he actively helping Kirigiri, he was betraying Chihiro as well, risking revealing everything to that accursed bear. And after all the lengths Byakuya had gone through to protect this secret.

“What are you saying,” He says, and his voice has a humiliating tremor that matches how his hands shake, clutching at the rail. Surely, he’s heard wrong. Surely, Makoto would correct himself, take it back-

“Your handbook. Chihiro, he…he put a program on it that lets you be able to do stuff like tell the time. It also reads stuff aloud. And he did it after the motives got revealed, that night when Celeste saw you guys leaving the bathhouse.” He sounds so somber, so sad and grieving. He won’t meet Byakuya’s eyes. “He did it in exchange for you teaching him how to be strong, and self-confident - which you did, by telling him to go around talking to everyone else today.”

Without really thinking about it, his hand goes to his inner jacket pocket, where his handbook sits. His fingers close around the little device, the hard edges of plastic and metal pressing into the creases of his palm. He feels a little like he’s been shot.

But he doesn’t bring it out. He glares instead, furiously, hatefully, at the boy standing just meters away. He - and Kirigiri too, most likely, Byakuya suspected that Makoto had already revealed everything that that woman - knew perfectly well the importance of Alter Ego, and why it could not, under any circumstances, be revealed. And they knew Byakuya was aware of this too, and they were holding this fact hostage, over his head.

(I could, some sore, beaten part of him thinks with poisonous intent, try and claim responsibility for Chihiro’s murder. I could say that they’re wrong. That I lured Chihiro to the bathhouse with the intent of making him less wary, easier to isolate. That he was so weak and trusting and stupid that killing him was a simple manner. That I mimicked Syo’s modus operandi to throw suspicion off of me.)

The mere thought was shameful, but it was his pride, wounded and bitter, that was seriously considering it, if only for some semblance of control. The barest reassurance that he had any real weight at all in this trial. And all he would need to do is open his mouth and say the words.

But instead, he bites down on his inner cheek, hard enough for blood to trickle out the corner of his mouth, hard enough for the pain to rival the buzzing in his temples. And tightens his grip momentarily, just enough to feel the faint, humming warmth of the handbook against his sweating palm, and exhales slowly.

“...Fine. Fine.” He spits, angry, defeated, exhausted. He’s sick of this. He just wants it to be over. “Yes. I’m blind. I have been so since we first woke up in this school. Are you happy now?”

Makoto looks down, his face shadowed by his hair. Kirigiri tilts her head slightly, a motion that’s not quite a nod but more of a bow.

“Wait, so then-” Asahina’s voice, confused and a little hesitant, pipes up. “If you’ve been…y’know, this whole time, but only after we got to this school…does that mean the Mastermind did this to you, somehow?”

“That’s what I would like to know, myself.” He turns to look at Monokuma, and finds the bear lounging across its throne, a bucket of popcorn resting precariously on the armrest. The repugnant toy giggles, and swings itself upright, spilling a handful of white puffs all over.

“Gosh, I wonder?” The thing taps at its chin, voice taking on a wondering tone. “Of course, I want this game to be fair and give you all a level playing field. I believe in equality after all! …Though this has made for so many entertaining developments, so…I figured I’d leave it as is. Besides, you’ve adapted quite well, haven’t you Mister Togami?” It cackles, paws clutching at its belly. “GIven how well you did hiding it from everyone, I think it’s fine if we leave it like this, don’t you think?”

He wants to cross the courtroom and throttle the stupid thing this instant. All he can do is glare murderously, lips twisted into a snarl.

There’s a sharp clap that has most people jumping. The source of the sound is Kirigiri, whose hands are raised, and pressed together. “Let’s move on.” Her voice is firm, with no room for arguing. “All we’ve done so far is clear one person’s innocence. We still need to identify the real killer.”

And that was it. The most disgusting moment of his life, over just like that, ended by her words. He knows that there’s bound to be some kind of punishment in store for those who interrupt trials, but he briefly wonders if he can get his hands around her neck before Monokuma can react.

Owada jerks at Kirigiri’s words, startled out of his own stunned silence. “W-wait,” He sounds panicked now, and of course he would be. His scapegoat is gone. “Then, if it’s not Byakuya, then who…?”

“Let’s consider what we know. Given how it’s not clear where the murder took place, it would have to be someone who had access to cleaning supplies or water, and has no alibi that can be verified when the murder occurred. For the most part, everyone here has an alibi that can be supported by at least one other person, but there are some that do not.” Kirigiri lists these calmly, and Byakuya imagines her cold gaze, flitting between each person in the room. “Mondo. Do you care to explain what you were doing prior to the body’s discovery?”

The effect is immediate. The other boy rears up, instantly furious. “The fuck are you trying to say? That I’m a murderer?!” He thunders. “Like I said earlier, I was taking care of my bro. You know that. Everyone knows that!”

“As you said earlier, Taka is currently compromised. He can’t give a testimony.” She shoots back without hesitation. “Your alibi is flawed.”

“Yeah? Well - well so’s yours!” He sputters. “Like- Syo might’ve been the one to find you in the bathroom, but that was just before Chihiro was found. Toko can’t say that you weren’t there the whole time, a-and even if you were, maybe the bathroom was where Chihiro died anyways!”

Owada may be stupid, but credit where credit was due, he was surprisingly quick to retort and pick at Kirigiri’s excuse. “I could not have cleaned up a murder scene in the bathroom so spotlessly in the time between Chihiro’s last sighting and the body discovery. As Makoto described earlier, the sinks of the bathroom were all dry-”

“There was that sheet, you could’ve used that before smashing Chihiro’s head over it. And there’s water in the toilets, right? And the girl’s bathroom was right next door!”

“...I’ll commend you for recognizing my perseverance. But I did not kill Chihiro.” She shakes her head. “If the only thing that will clear me is secondhand support to my alibi, then the only thing that needs to be done is to ask a witness. Toko?”

And she addresses Syo now, who just cocks her head for a moment, and shrugs. “I keep sayin’ to you guys, it’s lights out up there. There’s no telling when she’ll be back!”

Byakuya has had enough.

“Toko,” He says first, his voice low and hissing. Then, louder, building into a shout: “TOKO. Come out, NOW!”

“I don’t think it works like tha-” Syo’s words are cut off suddenly, and she collapses where she stands, like a puppet with her strings cut.

< previous - from start - next >

[moeblob]

Anyway I was thinking about Chris a lot lately and I wanted to draw Brent today so why not draw both!

(Angel is Chris' daughter who is like. 6 or 7. And she very happily has announced she will marry Mr. Right when she grows up and Right is just like "yes exactly, see, Chris? One person loves me enough to marry me I love my future wife" and it drives Chris up a wall. Brent normally calls her Angel but sometimes he has to push the button.)

[pleafyistired]

rolls around. im gonna get put down for thinking ancap n commie thoughts again.

[whoisthatmovinginthedark]

I agree with all the above, and that Zhu Yan is a hypocrite, and a liar, but to me that's what makes him interesting. I have my favourites like we all do (it's Li Lun), but I refuse to take sides in this divorce, because I don't think there's a black and white way to go about it. They both seem to act like since the other in their own point of view broke the vow first, they are now freed from it too. And so Zhu Yan seeks to distance himself from the Wilderness and Li Lun is fine to watch it get destroyed.

Zhu Yan really does seem to value demons as less now, and seems ashamed to be one. And Li Lun is the personification to everything that's painful and shameful to him. So he's dissociated himself from everything about his former life, and built a human life for himself. At one point of the story, in his dreams, he imagines settling down at his human mansion with a human woman, and do regular human chores with her. Yet he can't escape his demon's heart.

Li Lun is a proud demon whose life and freedom was taken from him, and to regain his freedom and to destroy the system that was able to do that to him, he's ready to burn everything down. And, when necessary, to hurt anyone, human or demon, to achieve that. Yet some part of him is holding himself back, waiting to hear what his heart needs to hear to give up wreaking havoc across both realms.

I don't tend to think either of them as immature. I see them as just being demon-like with their emotions. Zhu Yan is more experienced with humans, and better at navigating human interactions, so it's not surprising that he comes across as more broad minded to Wen Xiao. Especially since she gets to see the good side of him. But I agree that he has his biases too. And despite what I initially thought, neither of them is over the break-up. The wound is still so raw, that in that critical moment (when sitting down to play the chess game), Zhu Yan just cannot stop himself from saying something cruel. And because of that weakness, it all goes to shit. (But the thing about me is that I love tragedies, I love messily divorced characters, I love it when characters aren't able to speak calmly and coherently about their emotions, so I'm not mad at the story for doing that.)

In my eyes it's also very clear that Zhu Yan and Li Lun still love each other, but it's the love of exes (friends or lovers, however one wants to see them as), and that they both probably hate that they still do. If the love was dead, I don't think they'd be so harsh towards each other, causing more problems. Li Lun wouldn't have visibly melted for a moment like that on the chess scene if it wasn't so. And I can't even say how much I love that Zhu Yan keeps seeing hallucinations where his former and future demon companions are blending together. (He has so much to unpack there.) I love how the same love that pulls them together also makes them hurt each other.

And about Li Lun and Zhuo Yichen, it is very interesting that Yichen never seems to tell anyone abut their meeting by the water canal. And that meeting is one of my favourite scenes in the whole drama. We never see Li Lun more openly, willingly and desperately vulnerable than in that scene. And despite what Zhuo Yichen says to him, I agree, he does understand. It wasn't for nothing. And I don't think that Li Lun reaching out to him was a mistake, or came out of nowhere either. These two have some very special chemistry, and I can't get enough of it.

let me kiss your brain, because, seriously, EVERY WORD in that post about LI Lun IS ON POINT!!!

Was Li Lun behaving like a murderous toddler throwing a temper tantrum? Yes! But he had some good reasons to do so!

Regardless of their "romantic" relationship, ZYZ and LL were first and foremost, friends, who spent 30k years together. Even though they disagreed and even though ZYZ always felt like being a demon wasn't good enough, he wanted to be human, LL still accepted that.

Did LL overreact by killing those people in the clinic? Yes. But, if I saw my people- including children- in cages, tortured, I'd probably snap too. Plus, it irked me to no end that ZYZ was too preoccupied with being outraged at Li Lun for killing guards instead of actually helping his fellow demons. "I will protect the Wilderness"- proceeds to do absolutely nothing crying over two killed torturers while LL does all the protecting.

Then ZYZ proceeded to touch the unknown burning thing and ended up mortally wounding Li Lun. And then sealed him in and deprived him of any choice. And did he go to talk to him after? Nope. No explanation, no "get well" card, nothing. Heck, I think even a shouting match would've been better.

Even if he never went to LL because he was spiraling into depression, that doesn't explain the whole "holier than thou" attitude he displayed throughout the show. Did LL kill humans? Yes, but so did ZYZ (example- that bureau guy whose heart he exploded to prove his point). And then had the audacity to taunt LL and call him names when in reality LL was right in most of his accusations- of ZYZ being a hypocrite, liar, traitor, etc. I'm sorry, but while LL is absolutely NOT free of fault, ZYZ has no right to pretend he is any better.

But the worst of all is that when he got a chance to make up with LL, he let his pettiness and anger get the best of him. He failed to say ONE SENTENCE (we will put your soul into a piece of wood and you will recultivate again in 100 years) that would've made a whole lot of difference, and in the end, he indirectly caused Ying Lei's, Li Lun's, and likely Bai Ju's deaths.

Literally, all they had to do to get LL to stop his antics and even become THEIR ally was for ZYZ to say "sorry I set you on perpetual fire, bro. I missed you". But the "hero demon" couldn't even do that...

If anything, Zhuo Yichen was the one who showed more compassion and kindness to Li Lun than his supposed friend ever did. No wonder Li Lun shifted his focus to him in the end.

It seems that ZYZ was inherently biased against being a demon and valued humans more than demons. Perhaps, it was because of him being the vessel of malicious energy, so he juxtaposed that unfair twist of fate onto all demons (as in, he would not be in that situation if he were a human). Perhaps, he also realized at some point that he could not have the same range of emotions as humans, so he perceived himself and other demons as less. And Li Lun was the personification of demon-ness and all that ZYZ hated about himself, and he couldn't overcome it. Plus, it seems that all demons have a problem with dealing with complex emotions like grief and rage; this is why, in the end, among all of them, ZYC is the most mature one even though he is only 24. If only ZYZ had one tenth of ZYC's maturity and compassion to his fellow demons, the whole story would've played out very, very differently.

And this is why I want to write fix it fics now

Thank you SO MUCH for your addition, especially for bringing up their very last chess match. It’s probably the only moment that makes me genuinely, fucking angry at Zhu Yan. I can even understand his reaction in the clinic—but this? He wanted to be human so badly that he put his pride above everything else, lmfao. How pathetic, how frustrating it was to see him so desperately refuse to call Li Lun his friend, refuse to say that he cared for him, that he didn’t want him dead, that he had a solution. It’s so sad that Li Lun was always open and clear about his grievances, he always used his words to explain why he’s angry.

I guess if Zhu Yan admitted that he cared for this unhinged one, it would show him in the bad light.

I don’t care; I don’t even think he "indirectly" caused Ying Lei’s death. He literally killed him, period. Xiao Zhuo and the rest of the gang were the ones who told Li Lun about the root thing, and the fact that we see Li Lun IMMEDIATELY stop struggling? He went, Oh… sure, I’ll go into the root, we can draw. (Also, if Zhu Yan cared for Li Lun, he would’ve put him in Cheng Huang’s sundial and grown him for 100 years as an apology for the pain. What is 100 years to a 30K-year-old demon? A mere blink.)

And YES, Xiao Zhuo was incredibly kind to Li Lun. Despite saying he never understood him and never would, we know damn well that’s not the case. Baby Zhuo Yichen spiraled into loneliness, bitterness, isolation, and hatred toward Zhu Yan and demons—until Wen Xiao’s words about snow eventually melting brought him back (the same way Xiao Zhuo’s words sobered Li Lun and left a mark on his soul). I’m forever grateful to our precious Zhuo Yichen for forming his own opinion about Li Lun. (Isn’t it fun that he never told the gang about his encounter with Li Lun by that river?) 

Zhu Yan’s hatred, his harsh words, never affected him. Zhuo Yichen understood Li Lun. His journey with Li Lun is one of the most fascinating and interesting. No wonder our director grabbed the two actors and put them in another series together — he’s one of us, a shipper.

I absolutely adore you pointing out Li Lun being everything Zhu Yan hated about himself. His harshness with his former friend comes from his self-pity and self-hatred.

His words, "Li Lun, you’re bitter I have everything, and you have nothing." Despite it being awfully annoying in the moment due to Zhu Yan literally not hearing what Li Lun was telling him, it made me think it’s Zhu Yan trying to convince himself.

And even worse, Li Lun is proud of being a demon. He loves the Wilderness, he loves his home, he loves his people. There’s nothing he loves more than being a demon. He even turned the human he liked the most into one as well.

Zhu Yan is not as broad minded as Wen Xiao claims him to be. He very clearly has his biases. Always thinking about Zhu Yan murdering Xiao Pagoda Ghost that played with them in Li Lun’s illusion. That was awfully cold blooded! 

They’re tragic, indeed, and my heart breaks for them both. However, it makes me incredibly happy that Zhu Yan learned from his experience with Li Lun and stood firmly by his new friends’ sides. And I’m happy Li Lun found one Zhuo Yichen and one little Ying Lei who cried for him and were kind to his pain.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

k, m, n, t for pd and/or suck!!! >:33333

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

-> you know i gotta say wiwi. i have to. that character was Made For Me i swear to GOD . genuinely i cannot think about prime defenders season 2 episode 39 without feeling physically sick bc i love it so much. its the only one i havent relistened to since i heard it the first time. i KNOW its gonna make me cry again so i genuienly have not touched it even though theres things in there i need to hear again for character research. his arc is so like. narratively satisfying in a way that hits me so fucking deep to my core in an extremely personal way. and like. there were definitely some Decisions that i was REALLY ANNOYING about hating when they were brought up because im used to media with bad storytelling/creators that do not care about their characters but. looking back on it i would not change a single thing about it. i love you wiwi so much.

-> FOR SUCK.... its not over yet. so i cannot definitively say. campaign finale comes out tomorrow so my answer may change depending on that but for right now i think i gotta say arthur. i joke a lot about hating arthur for no real reason in particular but. man his story is just REALLY good. not going 2 give you suck spoilers (hehe) but i also really like how shilo has grown through the campaign. hes my little guy :]

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

-> TIDE. TIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TIDE TIDE TIDE I LOVE TIDE SO MUCH. thats my dad thats my best friend i love tide so much dude. every time he is mentioned or on screen i am just like :D HI TIDE I LOVE YOU TIDE

-> grefgore :] light of my life this is how i feel anytime i think about grefgore

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

-> CHARACTER STUDIES. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. I LIKE A GOOD SHIPPING FIC AS MUCH AS THE NEXT GUY BUT PLEASE GOD WRITE THEM IN CHARACTER. EXPLORE THEIR THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS AND WHY THEY MAKE CERTAIN DECISIONS THE WAY THEY DO. this doesnt even go for just pd and suck this is like. true for every single fandom ive ever fucking been in. do you know how hard it is to find character studies in the danny phantom tag on ao3. nobody has even fucking watched the show how are they going to write character studies they just want (<< i cannot legally finish this sentence without getting in so much trouble) I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MY FUCKING SELF AROUND HERE. ALL I EVER WRITE ARE CHARACTER STUDIES BC THATS THE WAY I THINK ABOUT CHARACTERS. I LOVE THEIR MOTIVATIONS I LOVE TO GET INSIDE THEIR BRAINS LIKE A LITTLE PARASITE AND IT IS ALWAYS SURPRISING TO ME WHEN OTHER PEOPLE DO NOT THINK LIKE THIS. (edit im just now reading through this and realized the question says three things. i did not process that. my three things are all more character studies please)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

-> oh dude i have so many hmmmmmmm how to choose just one. i have a LOT of feelings about wiwis original death and i might write something about that when i can get over my shrimp emotions about him. dakota cole audhd truther but that ones pretty much canon anyway so i dont think it counts. vyncent and his relationship with growing up in fantasy world and then being thrown into prime and how he adjusted to that. I think he really lies shitty syfy channel type horror movies that are so stupidly bad. and also plays a lot of video games but again i think thats mostly canon already. i think tide listens to dad rock but also like. ocean man by ween. you already know about my william and ashe being each others emotional support at concerts. i think william and ashe should hang out and do emo kid things more. i also have a lot of feelings about ashe and coping with the crippling loneliness of basically growing up alone and how the pd becoming like INSTANT best friends was so much for him in sooo many ways. you already know how i feel about mark i am in the middle of dissecting him like im in a high school biology class as we speak. uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i know im gonna think of something really good after i hit the post button so stay tuned

[moe-broey]

It's like.

Sharena is Alfonse and Lif's sister (complicated on Lif's end but roll w me here) but neither Alfonse/Lif would consider each other brothers because they're one and the same. I think something similar happened with Peony and Sharena, where they started out as two people but became so intertwined and entangled that they became each other. Alfonse is Sharena's brother, unshakable, by choice now. Nothing will change the fact that, at one point, Sharena stopped swapping with Peony. Nothing changes the fact that at one point, that's the Sharena he grew up with, that he knows as his sister now. And even before then, "What's mine is yours". Alfonse was Peony's brother, so Alfonse is Sharena's brother. Unbeknownst to him, he had two sisters. Up until A Point.

So, in a similar way that Sharena is a sister to both Alfonse and Lif but Alfonse and Lif aren't brothers, Peony is Alfonse's sister but not Sharena's sister. Fused (Sharena and Peony) or Died (Alfonse and Lif). What does this make Triandra to Sharena? Another estranged sibling essentially, just like Peony and Alfonse, especially by "What's mine is yours" rules. Triandra was Sharena's sister. So Triandra is Peony's sister. What does this make Alfonse and Triandra? Technically unrelated. If the divorce game is insane you can have Sibling A be halfsies with Sibling B (eg: shared dad different moms) and Sibling B can have a Sibling C (same mom different dads) and Siblings A and C are literally unrelated (no shared parents between them). To me I like to think of Alfonse and Triandra as distant cousins. That is not how that works in this example but this is my belief based on vibes alone.

And man don't even get me started on how Triandra and Peony feel like half-siblings despite being (presumably) full siblings but Freyja fucking took her sister in the divorce (sibling. Divorce. Well. At least they're not together.)

[perilegs]

ok i might need to force myself to not romance astarion bc i don't want to know what it says about me to turn down karlach, the woman of my dreams, the character made to cater me personally, like, if she was real i'd bring the moon and stars down for the chance to see her smile, she's everything i've hoped for in a rpg companion, what does it say about me if i turn that down for someone like astarion

[kamuro-junrenka]

I need to stop turning every situation i am in into kaigami its actually rotting my brain