#an ideal revolt could never take place

[captainsmileyfacej]

Being mad and scared won't help. Donate. Advocate. But don't obsess. Don't do that to yourself. It won't help them. Horrible things happen in the world. But you still have to live your life. You have to live, and do good, and bring some light into the world. It won't help them any more than the obsession would, but you need balance. They need balance. They need to be able to think there's something out there worth fighting for. I need to be able to think there's something out there with living for. Don't let everything be hatred and misery. Donate. Advocate. And live.

[virtuousweakling]

Gyokko and Hantengu both have MASSIVE rejection issues and honestly, it leads to their romantic chemistry without them even realizing it and it's so much more than just "two physically revolting antagonists in the same season." Like this is gonna be complex af but I'm just gonna dive on into it.

Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy: A Gyotengu Psychoanalysis

(TW ⚠️ mentions of the bad things, can't tag em all just expect the bad things) ENJOiOiOiOi 🖤✨

Hantengu

Hantengu was probably possessive AF over his wives, friends and literally anyone who pitied him because it meant he successfully manipulated them and had them in shackles and wanted them to STAY there. Considering the author stated Hantengu would lash out on his partners when he was caught with infidelity and then murder them AND the children he had with them (he repeated this habit like a broken record), he likely had an ideal lifestyle in his imagination where he could rope a person into a relationship, knock them up, keep them trapped at home and continue doing whatever he wanted to do such as stealing and cheating, expecting the partner to be totally cool with everything, cook, clean and basically NEVER disagree with him. Due to him being such a womanizer, he was probably forced into marriage at times by getting women he wasn't in a relationship with pregnant. I almost can't picture this in my mind unless he is young and I say this because his elderly form is so fucking depraved, unhinged and emaciated, he'd have to make someone feel sorry for him in order to have any sex in the first place because I highly doubt Mr. Hantengu is the 87 year old village bicycle getting all that coochie looking the way he did. He probably got rejected as a young boy (he probably scared the fuck out of his parents OR his father was just as neglectful as he was) and has this complex in his mind that the perfect relationship with ANYBODY, coworkers, family, friends OR sexual, is one where HE HIMSELF is in total control and the other person basically can't have any feelings. This is a sad thing, because it means his emotions are so out of control he feels attacked by any sort of rejection, disagreement, anger or conflict regarding his own behavior. And trust me, I relate to this hard, I'm a BPD girlie.

Gyokko/Managi

Gyokko (as Managi) to my knowledge, would fly off the handle when he felt criticized for being himself or anything he did or created. He could not manage his rage for the life of him and when he decided to take someone's life for criticising him, he became addicted to the pattern and felt a sense of release in doing this. It's like he almost gets a high doing what he did/does and associates domination over others as joyful because in HIS mind, he takes whoever rejects his artwork and...well...turns them INTO the artwork. What sets Gyokko aside from the other demons is that his objective is not to just CONSUME the flesh. He legitimately has petty, catty ass beef with people who don't give him the attention he wants and he sees them as a potential tool in his... ✨talent✨ It seems like a sick joke but he genuinely thinks of what he does as being ok. His ideal lifestyle, much like Hantengu, is one where HE makes the rules. Perhaps he is someone who simply cannot harness negative emotions in a healthy way because he has literally no moral compass and has to have constant control over people, his body image, his art and his environment to feel better. He literally NEEDS to be worshipped as the priority in order to survive and if you don't comply, well... Why he is this way is unclear as it can be due to many things but we clearly see in the anime that Gyokko's facial expressions turn to disgust, confusion and sadness when people ignore him, belittle him or contradict his motives in any way. He's so comfortable with a pattern where he can just take whoever does that and hide their body in a pot until he gets caught or butcher them into his own disturbing "art piece." I personally do not see Gyokko as someone who is, like how a judge defied Jeffrey Dahmer, "legally sane and aware of his criminal actions." No, I believe Gyokko to be genuinely unstable and emotionally vulnerable, seeking emotional and egotistical comfort in who he kills and how he kills them.

AND IN CONCLUSION;

Gyokko probably sees himself in Hantengu, and is infatuated with Hantengu's hidden badassery, underestimation and literally NO MORALITY, NONE WHATSOEVER. I find it a hard time writing them in a relationship because I can't imagine two controlling personalities living together as a couple. WITH THAT BEING SAID, I also think there's balance in their relationship and Hantengu gives Gyokko exactly what Gyokko wants in a person: inferiority, self deprecation, anxiety and submission. Gyokko is attracted to how heinous Hantengu can be all while defending himself as if he's innocent because the entire situation caresses and validates Gyokko's own ego and dysfunction. Hantengu sees Gyokko as "oh gee, a big strong pawn in my game who FINALLY isn't human, since you know I hate humans, and he likes me too, so let me just hide behind him and act as if I'm an innocent little mouse who doesn't deserve any harm from anyone." Except unbeknownst to them both, they're fucking gay and extremely perfect for each other.

[toxycodone]

i understand its all joaks and its lighthearted out of love for this character but it is a little sad to see things like laios being a minimum wage worker and having no friends being described as him being a loser when theyre extremely common autistic experiences 💔 because to be honest i think youre really cool and a great writer and i would like to interact more but it makes me go, is that what you would think of me? my life situation’s not too different from that. anyways i hope you have a nice day <3

no not at all I genuinely like being mean to Laios so take everything I say about him with the world's biggest effing grain of salt because I am just. mean to him in particular lol. i like to kick him when he's down. (evil and mean but to blonde men in particular)

but like. i am not cool at all. like...........ill put it under the cut but yeah.

real shit under the cut bc this ask is making me think! im gonna be real w u nonnie

tl:dr if u dont wanna see whats under the cut:

this ask kinda makes me think bc. i think im really mean to laios too bc he reminds me of myself beforehand (zero self confidence and suicidal idealization) sigh and I really hate being reminded of that. so. again. im really biased when it comes to him specifically and that doesn't apply to you or any of my followers.

and for what its worth i am sorry for making you feel that way.

but also. i gotta say I can 100% relate to him and you. this time last year I was working at Starbucks ( i could only tolerate 4 hour shifts bc i would get overstimulated and my coworkers lowkey hated me.) and had like. 1 friend from high school and the years before that I spent turbo online being constantly pushed out of friend groups bc i could NEVER get anything right socially. I swear the first 23 years of my life I never lived. i went thru hs and college as a fucking. like. creature I felt like i couldnt connect w anyone because I was too tormented by adhd + autism and i was INSANELY depressed and coping w lack of control by having an eating disorder and being doped the fuck up on stimulants. (MY PCP gave me 56 mg of concerta and 5mg booster of adderall i was fucking tweaking on the daily </3)

but like. i started going to therapy and a psychiatrist who made me quit cold turkey for my own good and we started treating my depression and debilitating anxiety (i was convinced a stranger was living in my house in secret but also that everyone in public who saw me was revolted by me and genuinely wanted me to kill myself jkdhsfskdjh i told you i was tweaking)

anyways. i was a druggie with no goal in life and living in my own head and now like. i can look at myself in the mirror and not think "hey. this fat ugly piece of shit should genuinely die" and now people in real life LIKE me. I have friends. multiple friend groups, actually. WITH NOT JUST ND PEOPLE. LIKE, A LOT OF THEM ARE NEUROTYPICAL. And i am very open about being autistic with them and i dont have to mask.

and they still like me! and invite me places! and genuinely want to hang out with me! and they think im smart and get uncomfortable when I say im stupid or too autistic to like. be able to be in public.

it still feels like a dream and in my mind im like "they actually are gonna drop you and make fun of you for thinking they were ever your friends" or like "theyre just doing this bc of the stupid buddy system shit or they think you're a pet this is highschool all over again"

but even tho im haunted by this. its....I can say with confidence its not true.

anyways. i know people say this shit all the time but I will say you are very capable of love and not a loser or anything like that. the thing you're missing out on is the right people. i didnt believe this for most of my life and tried to get myself killed because of it but im glad I didn't because it is genuinely true.

i have spent the last <1 year of my life genuinely being alive. and i wouldn't trade it for anything. idk if thats a sign for anyone yeah. take it

[boozeforblues]

Dying Is An Art, Like Everything Else (Serve The Broth Of My Heart To The Tongueless)

Out of body experience to accompany the fact that I'm out of my mind Trying my goddamnest to find The reciprocity that always stares me in the face But is nowhere to be found when we're apart, it's only grace That keeps my insides from revolting against me Telling myself the only other participant in this war is anxiety A pounding head and a flush red face Constant lies whispered at a fever pace About how these drinks are poisoned To rot my organs and leave my bowels voided Arsenic cuts to the quick, only my bones suffer Dispelling every notion that I was tougher Than my preordained outcome, leave me under tarp To familiarize myself with the brutish and sharp Piercing eyes that are fit to pierce my organs Served to a select few in equal portions The secret ingredient kept under lock and key Left in between a rock and me Getting stoned in the old testament sense I always knew I'd have the white picket fence But it's my remains hugging the property lines My insides become makeshift landmines 

I'm searching out signs that spell the end Raging paranoia is my only friend Wondering how many will burst through the door To bind my hands and feet, settle the score Drag me out into the street to give the neighbors a show Slit my throat under the dim glow Of the street lights, drain and bottle my blood Sell it to the masses and wait for the flood Of passers-by to confirm my greatest fears I'm praying you don't, but will it reach the ears Of anyone who could make a difference? Taking solace in the fact that every inference Made on my part is a hint well placed Failure is a test that I've perpetually aced Far too many times to remember And I'm still waiting to be dismembered Serve the broth of my heart to the tongueless The curse that destroys idealism and youngness 

Making friends with despair March me down to the town square To burn me at the stake, all's fair In worry and despair, so let's make sure to take proper care When my ashes are spread out to sea And I never had the good sense to flee When I had the chance, bliss is just misplaced ignorance It always expects its prey to be timorous But I know too much to fight the inevitable And all of my treatment has been inequitable But not undeserved, my mind keeps begging "mind me" No matter the distance, it would find me Shackled and led to the gallows, a public spectacle With no regard for what's ethical Drawn and quartered, 50 gallon drums my fate And I'm headed for an uncomfortable eternity at this rate An obituary that reads 'local man fed to ravenous coyotes' And these keep getting harder to read, I know these Words fill my mind and it's dangerous still Summoning the demons in my head until They present themselves in the physical form Toast to my demise, biblical like a locust's swarm 

Carted off in pieces down the corridor Relax, everything here is just a metaphor...

[luminois]

— 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧;

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐰: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭), 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢).

𝟒𝟓𝟏𝟑 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐩.𝐬.: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ･:*✧ 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

the needle poked the pad of your finger, making you squeak as droplets of blood fell on the scarf you’d been sewing, patching it up out of kindness. the wool was now stained with red.

“shit,” you hissed through gritted teeth, throwing the unfinished piece in the corner of the small room before sucking on the bleeding finger.

the curse had slipped from your lips easily, and you’d done nothing to stop it. you’d discovered it made pain more bearable in a way you couldn’t explain, and your heart didn’t feel heavy because of it. sentences that sounded centuries old resonated in your mind, warning you about your teeth falling off upon speaking such unkind words. you chuckled bitterly, letting your head fall back until it touched the wall. how could you have fallen for such childlike threats? the archangels must have been sure you were nothing but a fool, and at the time they’d been right.

you’d believed their lies, listened to them preaching of saving poor innocent souls from an evil bigger than them, an evil that they couldn’t have understood. but humans knew about sin more than you could have, kept in the dark and fed distorted versions of the truth like you had been.

the truth, the real unadulterated truth, was that the world wasn’t as simple as they wanted you to believe. sometimes war was necessary, it was liberation and revolution, and more often than not peace wasn’t enough. sometimes the only way to do good was to use despicable means, and that was because life isn’t fair. they’d taught you who your enemy was without mentioning the infinite amount of shades of grey existing between the light and the dark, showing you an idealized version of the world. now reality had knocked the air out of your lungs and you were left unarmed, gasping on your own.

in the dark of your room, the metallic taste of blood met your tongue and you were reminded of crimson eyes and searing skin. you smiled at the irony of it all. the only one who had been honest with you, who hadn’t lied to smooth out the edges, who had deemed you strong enough to handle the truth, was your supposed enemy.

in a way, hyunjin had ruined your entire existence. you didn’t have a purpose anymore, you were lost and confused and unable to do your job without thinking of how hypocritical it was, to pretend to know what was best for others without having ever experienced pain yourself. he’d shattered the pink glasses perched on your nose and made you see how diverse the world truly was.

most importantly, hyunjin hadn’t left you alone. you hadn’t ever noticed how fucked up it was that the highest sent their angels all alone to wander through a world they barely knew, without any help or guidance, until hyunjin had refused to leave you by yourself. he had held you and dried your tears, hushed you softly and forced himself to tell you about how sometimes life was also bright and full of wonder. you could tell he’d been struggling to find examples, his handsome face contorted by furrowed eyebrows, but you’d believed him anyways. how could you not?

hyunjin had followed you when you’d wanted to close the bakery and lay down in the shade of your room, only a small window letting the sunshine in. your sheets still held his scent, from the way he’d held you until you’d fallen asleep. you had woken up alone, but wrapped in a sweater too big to be your own.

your eyes traveled to the small desk on the opposite side of the room, where the sweater was placed on a chair. you looked at it for a long second and then got up from your bed, swiftly slipping on your shoes before crossing the space in quick strides. the soft material fell on your smaller figure disgracefully, and you adjusted it until it was hiding the cotton shorts you slept in. you made yourself smaller as you stepped out of the building, wrapping your arms around yourself. earth had become too cold now that you’d gotten used to a demon’s heat.

you wandered through the deserted streets without a destination. some shops had started to open up again, but you’d done nothing more than help clean up the streets, so it wasn’t anything you could be proud of. the town still wasn’t close to being considered a welcoming place but you figured things were just going to work out on their own. your services had never really been needed. you wondered if you’d ever had any other role besides providing temporary relief.

loud noises and shouts had just grasped your attention after turning a corner when a young, disheveled woman ran towards you. you recognized her instantly as the gentle young woman who had helped you revive the unkept communal garden weeks prior. her cheeks were crossed by tears, and the shirt she was wearing had been teared up and was now pathetically hanging off of her figure. she took your hands in a bruising grip, and the panic you saw in her eyes made you tremble.

her voice was broken by sobs and fear, but you managed to make out a sentence between her confused mumbling. “he’s going to kill him, you have to do something!”

“it’s okay, you’re okay,” you said, putting aside your confusion to try and calm the poor woman down. “breathe with me, please.”

she gulped and nodded feverishly, her ragged breaths slowing down as she followed yours, her eyes locked on you as if you were her last lifeline. when she was finally able to talk without difficulty, you asked her to explain what had happened.

“i was walking home, the sun was still out so i thought it was safe, but then a man,” she stammered out, having to take a deep breath before continuing. “he grabbed me and i screamed but he put his hand over my mouth and tried to…”

a sob made her voice break and you hushed her gently, rubbing your hands with hers comfortingly. her next words made goosebumps arise on your skin.

“if it hadn’t been for that boy… oh, i don’t know what could’ve happened.”

“a boy?” you asked.

the woman nodded, her eyes widening with restlessness. “yes! people say they’ve seen you two together, that’s why i came searching for you. he saved me, but now i think he’s going to kill that man, you have to do something!”

she pulled at your hands and repeated her words while you tried to take a decision. could letting that monster die mean that justice would’ve been made? it wasn’t hyunjin’s place to be the judge of his actions, but what if he was none other than the executioner chosen by the highest? your internal conflict was reflected in the furrow of your eyebrows. what was right, and what wasn’t? mere days prior you would’ve answered that question without hesitation, but now things were different. you were different.

at last, you nodded wordlessly and let the woman guide you towards the rowdy noises of the fight. a small crowd had gathered, people shouting and enjoying the display of violence, as if it were a show made purposefully for their entertainment. you had to jostle your way to the front of the circle, elbowing people left and right until you had a clear view.

hyunjin sat on the man’s midriff, keeping him down with his body weight and a hand around his neck. he was holding his throat so tight his knuckles had turned white and the man’s lips were starting to become blue. his other hand was balled in a fist, relentlessly hitting the man’s already destroyed face. his nose was broken and he was bleeding from multiple spots, his blood staining hyunjin’s hands and the concrete below them.

that was hyunjin’s truest form. a demon with his black hair falling over his eyes and sticking to his nape, sweat running down the sides of his face and neck as he bit his lips and breathed hard through his nose from the exertion. his eyes burned with wrath and his inked arms displayed all of his strength. once again, you weren’t scared of him even if you knew you should have been.

he wasn’t taking out the violence nested inside of him on an innocent victim. he was punishing someone that was more monstrous and revolting that hyunjin himself could’ve ever been, and you weren’t sure about wanting to stop him. but a murder wasn’t something you could just walk away from. the people witnessing the scene weren’t going to call the police over an aggression, but if someone died something would have to be done, and you found yourself terrified at the idea of losing hyunjin in such a way. he would have gone back to hell to escape and you weren’t ready to be left alone, without him.

hands tried to hold you back but you pushed them away and stepped inside the circle, calling hyunjin’s name. his fist stopped midair and he turned to look at you, his shoulders raising and dropping as he regained his breath. “angel?”

his eyes followed as you got close to him and grabbed his arm resolutely, making his grip around the man’s throat loosen up. you didn’t seem scared like he thought, but you’d always been full of surprises. he let himself be pulled on his feet, and a smirk curved his lips when you stepped on the unconscious man’s genitals hard enough to make him wail in pain, before leading hyunjin away from the crowd.

——— ･:*✧ ———

hyunjin’s place was anonymous, nothing could suggest that there was someone living in it, except for the bed. you observed the sheets in disarray and then looked up to the headboard. the dark wood was chipped, little pieces of it had come off and the wall behind it was worn out, as if the headboard had hit it repeatedly until the paint had started to break. you looked back at hyunjin as he closed the door behind him and the confused look on your face made him chuckle. he raised his eyebrows and you felt your cheeks starting to burn, so you turned away to not let him see. sex, of course.

“i know you’re blushing, angel, no need to hide,” hyunjin said, walking closer until you felt his breath hit your neck. “you look pretty when you’re shy.”

you sucked in a breath as you felt the ghost of his hands on your hips, before he moved to the side and went to sit on his bed. he groaned as he did so and you remembered the task at hand.

“i need towels, and painkillers.”

“there’s towels in the bathroom and i don’t fucking need painkillers, i’m a demon.”

“you’re human right now,” you reminded him as you opened the door to the small bathroom.

“humans are stupid and weak, their bodies are useless,” you heard him say as you ran a couple towels under the sink. “well, except for one thing.”

you turned the water off and walked back to him, gasping as hyunjin took off his shirt. the dark material had hid it well, but now you could clearly see the blood spilling from his ribs.

“is that a fucking stab wound?!” you shouted as you dropped the towels on the bed and kneeled in front of him to look at the injury.

“he barely scratched me, that’s just- wait,” he said, his smile getting bigger as he realized what you’d said. “did you just say fucking?”

you ignored hyunjin’s words and pressed a towel over the injury to stop the bleeding, until he grabbed your chin and made you look at him.

“it’s just a cut, angel, i moved away before he could seriously hurt me or that woman,” he reassured you, stroking your cheek with his thumb. you sighed in relief and leaned into his touch, your skin getting stained by the blood on his hands, unaware of the turmoil building in hyunjin’s chest.

you, his pretty angel kneeling between his legs, caring for his injuries and saying the bad words you’d picked up from him after kicking a man in the balls. forgotten feelings were filling his stomach and making his cold heart beat faster than anything else could, faster than any random fuck or any fist fight. hyunjin had always known you were different, the weirdest angel he’d ever met, and it made you unbelievably beautiful in his eyes. you made him want to be gentle, to make you happy, and it made him want to ruin what was left of your angelic innocence, too. but he could never hurt you, so, for the first time in his centenarian existence, he was going to be soft, just for you.

“is this my sweater?” he asked, running his finger along its neckline.

you nodded, picking up a towel to clean your bloodstained cheek before doing the same with his hands. “you left it at my place.”

“it looks better on you,” hyunjin said, smiling as he saw you bite back a smile of your own.

once his hands were as clean as you could manage and the cut on his ribs had stopped bleeding, you searched for other wounds. the only one you could see was the little cut on his nose bridge, and you figured the man had gotten in a punch before getting his face destroyed. you reached up to clean it but hyunjin’s hands were on your waist before you could do anything.

“get up from the floor, angel,” he said. his voice was almost a whisper as he lifted you up without needing your help.

you sat on his lap with your legs on either side of him, the closeness making your head spin. you watched your hand tremble as you moved his hair away from his face, hyunjin’s hands caressing your back. he now had to look up at you and he felt all of his smugness wash away, his lips parted as he took in every small detail. perfect, from the last hair on your precious head to the tips of your toes. how could you be so perfect for him?

you felt shy under his gaze, the softness in his eyes unknown to you both. “hyunjin?”

“i want to kiss you so bad,” he said. his voice was low and you shivered, your hands tightening where they were placed on his shoulders while his traveled up your back until he was holding the back of your head, fingers carded through your hair. “do you want me to, angel?”

you did, and you didn’t need to think about it. this wasn’t a demon trying to corrupt an angel. it was you and hyunjin, uncaring of the laws of the universe saying you should hate each other, in love. because you could feel it, the earth-shattering love growing between you, could’ve even touched it had you been in your angelic form. the only physical manifestation of it you had right there was your gasping heart and the emotion in hyunjin’s eyes, and it was enough.

hyunjin’s lips swallowed your inexperienced ones, pulling whimpers from you as he bit and licked and overwhelmed you with new sensations. his hands roamed down your body and pulled you impossibly closer. he sucked harshly on your bottom lip and then left a trail of wet kissed down your neck as you gasped for hair, hugging his neck tightly. he bit and sucked on the sensitive skin, and you felt his smirk when he found a spot that made you yelp. angry red now adorned your throat, and the demon looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction before kissing you again.

his hands disappeared under your sweater and hyunjin leaned back to look at you with a glint in his red irises. “what were you thinking when you left your house like this, angel?”

your cheeks burned red as you remembered the cotton shorts you’d been wearing the entire time. they were a flimsy, baby blue material, barely covering your bum while you slept, and the same went for the matching top you were sporting as well. one of your hands flew to cover your mouth as hyunjin’s slender fingers reached your left nipple, toying with the hardened bud while his eyes never left your face. he grabbed your wrist and uncovered your mouth, drinking in your flustered expression. under you, the tent in his pants was now poking your thigh unashamedly.

“were you thinking of me, mmh? going out half naked and covering up with my sweater, such a bad girl.”

hyunjin grabbed the hem of the sweater to pull it off and you swiftly raised your arms to help him, impatient to have his lips back on yours. addictive was one word to describe the way he kissed you, and suddenly you wanted to find out what else he could do to make you feel this way. the fastest way to do so was pushing his buttons, and you’d spent enough time around him to know just what to say.

the sweater hit the floor and you cupped hyunjin’s face. “i’m not a bad girl, i’m your little angel.”

his hands on your thighs slipped under your shorts to grab your butt cheeks, hard. “you are?”

he raised a challenging eyebrow at you before leaning in and mouthing at your covered breasts. you moaned as he sucked on it and then moved up, kissing your collarbones while moving your top’s strap down your shoulder.

“i am,” you stuttered out, “i thought of you so much these days, i even t-touched myself while thinking about you, hyunnie.”

you felt him smile against your skin and come up to kiss you properly, now hugging your waist. you melted at the way his tongue danced with yours, a weight lifted from your shoulders. you’d sinned because of him and you didn’t regret it, knowing he liked it made you feel proud.

“did you like it, angel? did it make you feel good?”

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “it felt a little good but… weird? i don’t think i did it properly.”

hyunjin laughed, and the burning feeling he was laughing at you had your cheeks going red in embarrassment. “my pretty girl can’t even touch herself properly, mmh? that’s alright, i’m gonna teach you how to do it.”

you squealed as he picked you up and let you fall on the soft mattress, your hair spread around you like a halo. his shirtless form hovered over you like a vision as he took off your shorts and pried your shaking legs open. he smirked at the wet patch on your panties before subtly dragging his knuckles over it, making you gasp and tremble.

“look at you, so wet and sensitive for me already.”

hyunjin laid next to you on his side, propped up on his elbow so he could see all of you. you looked up at him with wide eyes and his smile turned soft. “give me your hand, angel.”

he took your right hand in his and led it down your body, from your useless top to your bare stomach to where you needed it the most. you came in contact with the damp spot on your panties and pouted at the uncomfortable feeling, raising your hips to kick them off and they joined the little pile of clothes gathered on the floor.

“close your eyes,” hyunjin said, guiding your hand between your legs, “and think about me.”

you complied, and the first touch made you gasp. your free hand flied to grasp any part of hyunjin you could reach, ending up scratching at his chest as images of him flooded your mind. he whispered instructions in your ear, and a new wave of arousal gushed out of you as he pressed your middle finger on a hard nub. you screamed, your toes curling up at the pleasure.

“feels good, mmh?” he said, making you draw circles around that heavenly spot. you nodded, unable to think straight, but it wasn’t enough. “words, baby.”

“it f-feels good.”

“that’s where you wanna touch when you’re by yourself, but you’re with me right now.”

you opened your eyes and looked up at him, confused by his words. hyunjin chuckled and kissed your temple, endeared, and brought your hand lower. the burning sting of both yours and hyunjin’s fingers pushing into you made you cry out and hide your face in his neck. he hushed you softly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and leaving pecks on your clammy forehead, letting you get used to the stretch.

“it hurts,” you whined, tears threatening to slide down your cherub cheeks.

“i know, angel, but it’s going to hurt even more later if we don’t do this now,” he reassured you. “be my good girl and tell me when it gets better.”

a minute passed until you finally started to relax, and from then on it felt incredible. countless of your moans and whines, muffled against hyunjin’s skin, filled the room as he added a finger and then another one. your tears started to fall when you found that first spot again, pressing against it while hyunjin stretched you open. it felt like your pleasure was building up, your sounds progressively getting louder as you trashed around on the mattress, and then it was over.

hyunjin’s long fingers slipped out and he grabbed your wrist to keep your hand away. his lips drowned your complaints as he hugged you close, your bodies sweaty and burning up against each other.

“why?” you whined, letting your damp cheek rest against this chest. hyunjin’s heart was beating fast and strong, his big hands stroking your back reassuringly.

“i can give you something better, angel,” he said, sitting up before helping you out of your top.

“better than that?” you asked in disbelief, now laying completely naked in the middle of the bed under hyunjin’s hungry gaze. he laughed at you again and your thighs rubbed against each other, instinctively trying to create some friction.

“you have no idea how good i can make you feel, that’s not even half of it, baby.”

you watched mesmerized as hyunjin took off his pants, the clinking of his belt as it fell on the floor making you shudder. every time you saw him you thought he couldn’t get more gorgeous, and he proved you wrong every time. your half-lidded eyes got drunk off how perfect the demon looked standing there, arrogant in the way he touched himself, a moving work of art. his gaze licked down your own body as if it were an actual touch, and you smiled at how beautiful it made you feel.

your legs went willingly when hyunjin’s hands grabbed your thighs gently and made a space for himself between them, but they started to shake when you felt him prod at your core. his fingers had hurt before, you were afraid of the pain you were about to experience.

“angel, look at me,” hyunjin said, smiling softly at the way you were holding your hands close to you in an attempt to reassure yourself. he leaned down to kiss your lips, your noses bumping together and making you giggle. “don’t be scared, it passes quickly and then it feels good.”

“really?”

“you know i don’t lie to you.”

you felt the pain as he was kissing you again, swallowing your cries and pecking away your tears. hyunjin waited for you to relax under him, something he’d never done for anybody else, and held you close as you left marks on his back.

“breathe, baby,” he said, caressing down your sides. “tell me when you’re ready.”

true to hyunjin’s words, it didn’t take long for the tension and hurt to melt away, your flesh going lax as you sighed in relief. he settled deeply inside of you, the sting from the stretch still present but you found it strangely pleasurable, and you hugged his neck before whispering. “you can move.”

“that’s my good girl.”

the demon’s eyes sparkled red and then he set a pace that was brutal, eliciting screams and noises you’d never heard yourself make before, hyunjin’s own moans quickly joining yours. your fingers got tangled in his hair, now wet with the same sweat that was falling on your skin in droplets, his skin absolutely searing.

you wrapped your legs around his waist and your eyes rolled in the back of your head when he changed the angle, finding just the right spot. a string of words barely resembling hyunjin’s name left your throat as he wrapped an hand around it, pressing just enough to make you lightheaded.

“you’re perfect, angel,” he said, his voice low and breathy as he panted. he took your hand in his and brought it to your stomach. “you’re doing so well, you did this, my good girl. right here, feel how well you’re taking me.”

you looked down between the two of you, still gasping for air when you felt it, him moving under your skin, and something loosened. a shudder washed over you and your hands tightened around hyunjin’s neck, both keeping him close and pushing him away as you screamed.

hyunjin only slowed down for a minute, barely letting you catch your breath before picking up the pace again. you whined as the feeling got so intense it started to hurt but he only hushed you down, singing your praises and sweetly torturing you at the same time. you had to endure the same high times and times again before hyunjin started to lose his rhythm, and then you felt warmth flooding you and his body fell on you, covering you completely as his muscles trembled violently.

kisses smothered your wet cheeks, when did you start to cry again? your mind was hazy with exhaustion and still high on the most intense and sublime sensations you’d ever experienced. you noticed how dark the room had gotten and wondered just how much time had passed, but you didn’t really care. every bone in your body ached and hyunjin was still inside of you, contributing to the uncomfortable feeling of laying on a bed dirty with your own blood and sweat. but that was the best place on earth, where the heavy smell of sex met the heavenly scent of your lover.

you stroked hyunjin’s dark hair and he turned to look at you, eyes full of wonder. “how were you the best?”

“the best?” you repeated dumbfounded, your voice scratchy from all the screaming. “you’ve been with people far more used to it than me, i’m sure of it, hyunnie. it’s impossible i did better than them.”

“none of them lives up to you, i’m ruined for everyone else now.”

“you’re ruined?” you said, “what am i, then?”

hyunjin smiled. “you’re my little angel.”

do you want to read more?

banner by @blueprint-han

taglist: @sleepylixie @bobateastay @orphic-chan @aliceu @softieyn @riel-precious @witchylixie @tulipsandfire @anskiie @tpwkjerii @blackkacchan @fournia @parachuuuus @inlovewithasa @skzshortcake @lmxral @peachy-maia @iwanttobangchan @virgothicc @joy-salem @chans-baby-girl

[chancetobeundefined]

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 ... 𝑲𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑬 𝑷𝑳𝑼𝑴𝑩𝑬𝑹

zion moreno  &  trans woman  &  she/her  &  twenty - five  ┊  well, well, well, if it isn't KATHERINE PLUMBER PULITIZER — the human from new york city who arrived in origin five years ago and is a journalist. their fellow residents would describe kath as intelligent & righteous but stubborn & secretive, and associate them with front page news, the hustle and bustle, &&  typewriters ...

Ⅰ. the basics

NAME: katherine pulitzer

AGE: twenty - five

ORIENTATION: bisexual

TITLE(S): n / a

NICKNAME(S) / ALIAS(ES): katherine plumber , kath , ace , king of new york. 

OCCUPATION: journalist

PLACE OF ORIGIN: new york city , circa 1899 ( newsies the stage musical )

POS TRAITS: intelligent , righteous , quick witted

NEG TRAITS: stubborn , secretive , harsh

TROPES: defrosting ice queen , intrepid reporter , one of the boys

Ⅱ. memories

spoilers for newsies ( the stage musical )

content warning for : tba

katherine is taken a long while after the newsboy strike. she was but one of many of the children of joseph pulitzer , famed newspaper publisher. despite her father’s protests , she grew up to be a journalist herself , writing under the pseudonym katherine plumber. however , she was trapped in social pages. as her father’s newsboys began to revolt , it was her perfect opportunity to write front page news and revolt against her father herself. she became one of the strongest allies to the newsies , getting them onto the front page of her father’s rival paper. however , her loyalty was questioned when her family ties were revealed. however , she proved her worth and loyalty once again , writing a pamphlet powerful enough to convince the rest of the children workers in the city to join their efforts. the message was received , and the newsies won !!

Ⅲ. miscellaneous 

katherine is a type of girl who won’t take your bullshit / nonsense. she’s not one to take part in the drama ( though she can’t help but be a bit nosy ).

while first arriving in origin was quite the adjustment , she’s seemingly thriving after 5 years. this raging feminist was truly born in the wrong century ... 

kath let’s off this bold confidence , but really she’s just the ideal example of ‘ fake it til you make it. ’ for that reason , she ultimately tries not to let her persona flip , but sometimes it gets the best of her.

kath does not like to be proven wrong , even when she clearly is. however , truth comes above all and she is , in fact , capable of admitting her wrongs ( but not before some push back ).

entering the 21st century , katherine really took the moment to re - define herself. her father’s name no longer held power , and she could proudly make a name for herself ... though it did take a moment , since she was seemingly start from scratch yet again , but at least there were less hurdles this time. 

Ⅳ.  possible connections

katherine has been in origin for 5 years , so plenty of time to make connections new && old !!

co - workers : anyone related to journalism. unsure what the local paper is yet but ...

interviewees : even hard hitting journalists gotta write a puff piece or two ... or maybe your muse was linked to some local headlines !

friends && acquaintances : kath is big on making all the connections she can make , since you never know when they might come in handy. 

fellow activists : sure , things may seem fine and dandy in origin , but surely there’s something to protest ... and kath loves a good strike. 

exes / former flings : katherine’s been around long enough to leave her mark on the origin dating pool. ( open to all gender identities ! )

flirtationships : not exactly a fling , but manage a bit of flirty back and forth. perhaps a bit ‘ will they , won’t they ? ’ but no one’s quite sure ...  ( open to all gender identities ! )

Ⅴ. ooc

hello hello ( again ) , i’m cinne , and katherine plumber is not only the king of new york , but king of my damn heart. so excited to bring her to origin !!! so LIKE ♡ this post if you wanna PLOT or just wanna LEARN MORE about my fave 19th century babe ♡♡♡

[dwlrmoon]

Astrological Analysis: I.M "Duality"

An astrological analysis of I.M's solo album "Duality" & how his astrological placements manifest through the songs. Changkyun said that he poured his entire soul into this album, so I thought it'll be really cool to dissect the songs in the astrological lens because I'm in love with his artistry.

REMINDER

Observed & analyzed through western tropical astrology; we are missing information due to lack of confirmed birth time, so I can only deliver using the traditional 7 planets (mainly the personal chart) without a house system.

DUALITY

Having the album entitled "Duality" with songs expressing this topic (esp. the title track) reminds me of his Aquarius placements, mainly the Sun. I.M has his Sun in detriment, meaning that his Sun is "weak" or uncomfortable in that sign. As the sister sign of Leo, Aquarius symbolizes celebrities, fame, the star in tarot, as well as hopes & dreams. Aquarius can represent notoriety & infamy while simultaneously having the stereotype of the loner or outsider, not wanting to be perceived or "understood."

Using traditional rulership, Aquarius is ruled by Saturn who also rules Capricorn. If Capricorn rules authorities & conformities, Aquarius is the rebellious younger sibling refusing to conform & rather revolt, deviating from the norm. I.M placed his artistry in precedence; convincing SSE to use God Damn as the title track despite the profanity requiring him to release this album digitally in addition to him creating the tracks in his own style that may or may not be in line with k-pop or Monsta X.

GOD DAMN

In true I.M fashion the song & MV are very concupiscent, & since I already talked about the duality that is expressed through this song, let's talk about the MV specifically. Pisces rules escapism & addiction & his Pisces Venus was very on brand to go with alcohol as the imagery of getting high to hide from his frustrations. This piece is highly self-reflective & he encourages listeners to read between the lines, it's quite Saturnian in nature. I also love how the lyrics have that duality of hating & loving whoever/whatever that is ruining/comforting him—I really associate this with his Martian Moon (him assigning Misbehave as the song that represents him is so... Aries Moon).

HOWLIN'

No more taming 'bout my color I swing 'till I get, what’s the problem? Problem I ain't follow simply what I see I go follow what I need 'Cause I see that I'm loyal Imma go on my speed, even I'm slow

The 1st verse reminds me a lot of his Saturnian + Martian energy—no more wanting to be someone he's not, doing his own thing without care of what others may think. However, the last 2 lines really highlight the fixed modality of his Aquarius: I love that he says he's loyal even if he goes on his speed which can be slow; he doesn't care as long as he gets there.

I don't celebrate 'till I make it till the end Ain't time for the 'hol up' You want me be a shade but I'm made for a big wave Ain't time for the 'hol up'

This song has a lot of Saturnian themes esp. the chorus. It reminds us that Saturn rules time—he doesn't succumb to the challenges & distractions or "hold ups," rather focusing on his goal & only celebrating once he reaches the mountaintop. Saturn is karmic, it takes its sweet time to give you your rewards that you must work laboriously for. He knows he's made for something bigger (Aquarius), & with his perseverance (fixed), determination & passion (Aquarius Mars + Aries Moon), he will be rewarded despite all the struggles (Saturn).

Don't call me, I'm drivin' I just wanna keep on ballin’ Even though when you are hatin’ Woah Grab me when I'm fallin’ 'Cause I make myself so lonely You know that I'm howlin'

However, Saturn can be extremely isolating & Aquarius is akin to the underdog. Of course we don't know where his placements are, but his Pisces Venus contributes to that isolation. He feels lonely & he knows that, but he inevitable makes himself lonely which Aquarius natives can do when they develop that mentality of me v.s. the world sometimes. Keep in mind that Aquarius rules community yet the outsider, showcasing that wanting to be alone while wanting someone to be there for him. Saturn is burden & he's a lone wolf used to being alone carrying all that burden himself.

BURN

The night has become cold and now it's a meaningless fight I don't wanna waste my time on the past time Endless shot, let me head to the top I don't wanna waste my time on the past time Burn the accumulated emotions, burn Burn everything without leaving anything, burn

An Aries Moon anthem? I find that Aries placements love having fire/burning imagery if not in their songs then in their MVs. Aries is Martian, cardinal & fire by nature, which means that Aries Moons may get irritated fairly quickly—a quick temper? But they get over it super quickly, kind of like blowing off steam & then letting it go right after. The Moon rules our emotions, & I think the lyrics speak for itself here. The allusion to the fight is very Martian as well.

I'm mixed and complex, yeah I don't know myself well, eh Yesterday I couldn't empty it out, yeah I'd rather burn it, yeah The tears that fell are oil Make the flame burn higher Pour it out, no more regrets Burn it all up and high, yeah

I really enjoy I.M's introspective & intrapersonal nature; he always says he doesn't know himself well & accepts that rather than fighting it. He accepts all facets of himself, & that's very refreshing. The 2nd verse made me chuckle a little bit because the first 2 lines look Aquarius while the rest is Aries. Not to mention he has an Aquarius Mars conjunct Sun, so, more Martian energy there. Cardinal + Martian give me that attitude he portrays very well in this song—throw some more oil, let it burn more so that there'll be no regrets. Another Aries placement who wrote something like this? Yoongi.

HAPPY TO DIE

I could die right now, yeah I can never lie, yeah You bring me to sky Let me be yours till I die When you say goodbye, yeah Bury me on your heart, yeah Don't you say that word Could you keep it till I die? You brought me back to the real love I wanna get lost here forever

There is so much to unpack in this little song... The chorus is a mixture of Saturnian commitment & Aries headstrong, passionate reckless energy motivated by his romanticist Pisces Venus. The title itself, the whole concept of this song, is fundamentally Pisces (his DSC would be really cool to talk about here, if we had the birth time, but we don't, so).

We're childish like we were when we used to play back then I let go of rationality as if I'm drawn by the wind I don't know what this feeling is Even if I try to pretend I don't know, everything seems to be obvious, yeah I don't know, I like it the way it is I don't know me well, I don't know I guess it's not a lie that I really like you I'm happy to die right now

Verse 1 truly has my heart in a grip. He has a rational & intellectually-minded Saturnian Mercury & Sun, yet once he's in love he gets enamoured & childish, rendered completely irrational. It's giving me Aries meets Pisces—of the moment, idealistic, just overwhelming emotions taking control of his Saturnian mind, which I find funny because he has Moon square Mercury.

Things of mine might go away and shape Will just change, but don't you change When I'm low, could you make me not alone? I could die right now if we were just this crazy about each other

Pisces is sentimental & can represent past lives, that feeling of being stuck in the past? Pisces Venus is visionary & idealistic, they're more in love with the idea of love than love itself sometimes. Here we see that theme of isolation again, his Aquarius could play a role here, but his Pisces placements are also desperate to be loved. The last line, like said before, is utterly Pisces because Romeo & Juliet is known to be a Pisces type of relationship, plus with that Aries Moon... it just makes sense since Aries Moons love the rush & passion.

시든 꽃 FLOWER-ED

Somehow I have no strength to resist I stay right where I am It's not like I'm longing for someone But I'm standing there

Personally loving how his songs gradually grow more & more Piscean? The overwhelming emotion of yearning with no one to long for is so Pisces/Jupiterian Venus in general. Like I said, they're idealistic & in love with the idea of love more than anything—not the happy kind of love either. I notice that Jupiterian Venuses play with the theme of wanting a lot, mainly because they are ruled by the planet of expansion. Distance is a huge theme in Jupiterian signs, & they idealize that.

When you step on me like it's nothing I desperately want you to come back and hug mе I deeply remember your smilе that laughed at me While I was being illuminated by you

Because Pisces placements love the idea of love & the feeling of longing for someone they can get into the habit of sacrificing themselves, hence their association with the hanged man in tarot. They are too focused on the fantasy of love to take off their rose tinted glasses.

I don't really blame you I know your days by my side Have faded away Please don't disappear, oh

The hand that held me, the eyes that captured me are all blind The scattered hands, the shining eyes are gone

I don't know what else to say here, like, I think you guys understand how these verses really depicts his Pisces Venus very well... With a Venus conjunct Saturn it can really emphasize isolation & rejection as well—this aspect feels like they are deprived of love, so they crave it desperately even if it hurts them which is a theme of Pisces. Him titling this track "withered flower" in Korean is so Pisces Venus of him overall.

[rein-ette]

Hi! Could you give us some modern day German bros hcs?

Yes. Absolutely. Thank you for asking, this is one of my favourite topics ever.

I know canon says that Gilbert lives in Lud’s basement and mooches off of him, but may I assert that Gilbert actually lives in the basement of his own house, which he bequeathed to Ludwig, while he spent time rotting in Soviet prison. The house, along with a significant (but diminishing) majority of Lud’s savings were all originally Gilbert’s fortune, only gathered after saving every penny of his officers commissions for centuries. Now, this isn’t to say that Ludwig mooches off Gilbert either, because Lud does work his sweet muscular ass off and earns a respectable wage from the federal government. And it’s true that legally, Lud did inherit Gilbert’s property in the West. But Gil still has every right to live in a house he bought, and he only chose to take the basement floor because 1) it seemed kinda mean spirited to make Ludwig move out of the master bedroom after living there for 3 decades, and 2) the “basement” floor is a complete flat in and of itself, so he and Ludwig can both have some measure of privacy.

Warning: way more rambling ahead

As for living fees, I hc that Prussia fulfills a role in government as the state of Brandenburg. Others may disagree that Brandenburg should have its own “national” representative, an idea I’ve toyed with myself, but I’ve settled on the interpretation of history where Prussia is Brandenburg for several reasons. The main one is that while Prussia is a geographical expression referring to the area around Königsberg that is now Russian/Polish, Prussia is also a historical, political, and cultural entity. Berlin has been the seat of Prussian power and the symbol of its culture, ideals, and traditions from the very beginning — what we think of when we say Prussia (the historical state) really began as Brandenburg, who’s ruling family (the Hohenzollerns) subsequently acquired Prussia (the Polish territory) and saw an opportunity to crown themselves King, using the Prussian title as a convenient “excuse” (for various political reasons). In short: the name “Prussia” is misleading — the state of Brandenburg-Prussia has always been more Brandenburg than it’s been Prussian.

I DIGRESS. The point is Prussia also earns part of his wages for himself from the Brandenburg state government. He doesn’t work nearly as much with the gov as the others (Arthur, Francis) do though: mostly 'cause the government can function by itself and doesn't need much advice from Prussia, who's wealth of experience is not readily applicable to like, park-building and such anyways. When Lud becomes overwhelmed Gil also helps out with his paperwork, but -- and this is, I believe, rather idiosyncratic to the German gov -- Gil does not often attend functions in an official capacity. Since the war, the new German government has wanted for obvious reasons to distance itself as much from its past as possible, so having too many people know about Gilbert's real identity, or even having him work to closely with the PM just feels...wrong. Officially Prussia may now simply be the state of Brandenburg, but its clear that's not all he is. He has the Old World air, the kind of presence that reminds humans he is the collision of a thousand lifetimes all at once, a breathing monument to history. And so for the modern German state, which has struggled so desperately to throw off the shadows of its past, to associate closely with the embodiment of Prussia is just not great for everyone involved.

This brings me to another dynamic that I've wanted to explore in a fic for a long time: how terribly young Ludwig is compared to the nations he works with. I mean, Germany only became a thing in 1871, less than 200 years ago. While I hc him to have existed for a couple decades before that, slowly growing under Prussia's care, this man is still younger than either Alfred or Matt. And yet he has to work closely and on equal terms with nations that are more than ten times as old as he is. Of course, former colonies like Al and even younger ones like New Zealand also work on equal terms with older countries like England now, but Ludwig has the added disadvantage of needing to protect a legacy. He may be young, but the cultures he now represents are not. He does not get to start afresh. He does not get to revolt against imperialism and forge his own destiny. And unlike former colonies, the day Ludwig truly stepped out of his brother's shadow and became a nation in his own right was not a day of victory but of defeat. All this weighs heavily on him; essentially, Ludwig carries the same two-thousand burden of history his fellow Europeans do, but without the corresponding two thousand years of experience. And do his colleagues go easy on him? Of course they fucking don't. His colleagues are people like England, France, Denmark, Netherlands...they're fucking menaces is what they are, and they don't baby nobody. You can either make it or you can't, and despite being the age of these nation's children, by the simple virtue of being European Lud is expected to be able to play by "their rules" -- to know the ins and outs of ancient relationships, traditions, and beef from the Middle Ages -- the whole shebang. If America fucks up in a world meeting the Europeans will whisper "Well he's still just a child", if Ludwig fucks up in an EU meeting he has simply fucked up, period. No excuses. This is the world they grew up in, and they expect Ludwig to be able to navigate it too.

Of course, this has it perks as well. It means that unlike former colonies, Ludwig doesn't have to deal with as much constant condescension and patronization. Lud is not their child or their friend's child -- at most he is a younger brother, and by taking on the mantle of Prussia and the other German states Ludwig is automatically an equal. But there were still moments where Ludwig felt out of place. In the first few decades after the war, these mostly occurred in more relaxed, social situations -- parties, informal negotiations, the type of diplomacy that takes place over drinks and behind closed doors. This was the gentleman's club, a place where the lingering sense among old European powers that they are members of the most exclusive and desirable social group in the world was strongest. While various forces such as the EU, globalization, decolonization, and Americanization have eroded this kind of gate-keeping, there remains instances where Ludwig is sharply reminded of his age. Its often the small things -- a glance across the meeting room, an old joke, a shared memory. Maybe Ludwig hears through Gilbert that Francis is more stressed than he seems. Maybe Ned succeeds in persuading Arthur of something in private when Ludwig couldn't. Maybe he visits Austria and is surprised to see Spain is also there. Among any group of old friends there is always a sense of "us" and "them", and while Ludwig may have taken his brother's political place in Europe, socially Prussia is a kind of "us" that Ludwig will never quite achieve.

I hate to end this on such an abrupt note, but I'm afraid if I don't I will never stop talking. Thanks cake for enabling me, and if anyone wants a part two hit me up. I haven't even fucking gotten to PruAusHun yet, or all the other German siblings.

[oiphity]

rendezvous between two individuals with questionable morals <3

     The crisp evening air rustled Melisande’s curls as she waited at the designated rendezvous point. Their meetings always took place at night since, well, fraternizing with a persona non grata in the eyes of the government she worked for wasn’t exactly ideal for its already shaky reputation, to say the least. Did she care? Not particularly, especially when that government would be overthrown in a matter of months. With that in mind, she could afford to acquaint herself with the woman who was supposed to be her enemy.

     Red heels clacked against the marble tile of the ornate balcony. Each footstep echoed, preceding the arrival of their maker. Melisande turned towards the source of the rhythmic noise and smiled. "Good evening, Hina."

     Hina returned Melisande's amorous look with one of her own. "Hello, darling. How are you on this sublime day?"

     "I'm decent. How about you, my love?" Melisande asked, taking Hina's hand as the two of them began walking side-by-side. 

     “Only decent?” Hina frowned slightly. “Well, I hope my presence makes your day even the tiniest bit better. I’m doing well myself.” 

     Classic Hina. Of course her presence would vastly improve Melisande's day. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, after all, both in appearance and personality. “That’s always good to hear. Now, to get straight to the point of our meeting, I believe Freyja and Sigfrieda’s efforts to hide their little interpersonal conflict are faltering.”

    Now Hina was especially interested. “Oh? How so?”

    “Well, for one, Sigfrieda could barely restrain herself from being completely and utterly passive-aggressive towards her supposed partner-in-command at the latest council meeting," Melisande explained. Oh, it was such a sight. Sigfrieda was throwing out backhanded statements left and right, barely preventing her face from contorting into an expression of unbridled rage. Freyja was trying to do damage control, but she absolutely failed miserably. Pure entertainment.

     Hina considered this for a second, a contented smile dancing upon her lips. “Hmm. It seems like her true colors are finally starting to show.”

     “Indeed. I'm sure she'll give us quite a performance when she inevitably loses her composure." Had Hina ever witnessed that happen before? Melisande really did wonder, but she knew she shouldn't ask when they had such limited time to converse. Maybe another time.

     Hearing about that would be absolutely wonderful. "I eagerly anticipate it. Please do share every detail of that occurrence with me."

     "I'll be sure to. I know you'd be the first person who'd want to hear about it," Melisande replied, laughing slightly to herself.

    Hina chuckled. Ah, the spite she possessed for her creators was limitless. Every single little inconvenience they endured satisfied her immensely. "That certainly is true. Now, do you have any more information you would like to share with me?"

     Melisande thought for a second. Of course, there were things going on all over Concordia, but much of it wasn't interesting or relevant to their objective. "Well, the situation in the Southern Province is getting worse. Nothing is being done to alleviate the famine caused by the latest drought. The population is in revolt."

     Hina smiled in satisfaction. "Good. We can use this to our advantage. Freyja and Sigfrieda's perfect little façade is finally beginning to crack." 

     "Indeed. I'm sure you know what you can exploit in particular to favor your goals." If not, well, Melisande knew Hina could easily find out. She had her ways.

     "Of course. I am never unprepared," Hina replied, perhaps a bit teasingly. She realized their interaction had to come to an end, though. How unfortunate. Well, she could do nothing but deal with it at this point. The two of them would have all the time in the world to spend in each other's company once those wretches were overthrown. She sighed. "Well, darling, our time together tonight is waning. Do not falter yet. We're too close to achieving the world of our dreams to stumble now. Keep working as you already are and you will be generously rewarded, I assure you. Farewell for now, my dear."

     With that, Hina winked and disappeared in a short display of crimson-colored magic, leaving Melisande alone with her thoughts once again. 

[aboveallarescuer]

It’s commonly (and rightly) acknowledged in the fandom that Tyrion shouldn’t be Cersei’s valonqar because 1) it makes for great dramatic irony that Jaime, the one brother who Cersei would never allow herself to suspect, fulfills the prophecy and because 2) it would, to some extent, validate Cersei’s abusive and dehumanizing treatment of Tyrion.

These two reasons also explain why it makes a lot more sense that Dany (rather than Sansa or Margaery) is the YMBQ.

If it were Sansa or Margaery, the story would lose its dramatic irony because Cersei already previously considered them threats. Meanwhile, in AFFC, Cersei hears news of dragons and slave revolts and quickly dismisses them. In other words, she could’ve been made aware of Dany’s threat, but she will only take it seriously when it’s far too late.

Throughout AFFC, Cersei was excessively suspicious of Margaery’s intentions and even distorted the truth in order to rationalize to herself why she should have her rival arrested on false charges. Cersei’s need to prove to herself that no young queen can match her probably also informed her cruelty to Sansa, from her order to kill Lady to her constant abuse and mistreatment of Sansa while she was held hostage in King’s Landing. All of this is to say that, like with Tyrion, making either Sansa or Margaery the YMBQ would mean justifying Cersei’s victimization of them since the YMBQ prophecy, like the valonqar’s, would make Sansa or Margaery a legitimate threat to Cersei. This wouldn’t happen with Dany because Dany will only meet Cersei after her power has already been realized.

This leads me to an additional third reason why I think Dany fits the YMBQ prophecy better than any other candidate: it challenges the message of the Good Princess Evil Queen trope, which consists of idealizing and rewarding the younger woman who doesn't deal with the pressures of ruling and villainizing the older woman who previously wielded power. Dany is already queen, but she is a good one, which we know thanks to the choices she’s made primarily motivated by her compassion when she got to hold power. Dany is already queen, but she is a capable one; yes, she made mistakes during her tenure, but they don’t make her an awful ruler, they make her character an understandably fallible but still largely competent ruler considering her management of Meereen’s economy, her efforts to fortify the city, her reasons for making the peace treaty and her overall decision-making process. Dany as the YMBQ validates the message that having power and agency and influence means having to make hard choices and occasionally erring, but that it is still, ultimately, a good thing.

This is not to say that Sansa could never be an effective ruler, only that many of her fans idealize and reward her because she looks pure and virginal and feminine “enough” and wasn’t ever placed in a situation where she had to wield power and deal with its negative consequences. Also, I know that the prophecies surrounding Cersei have sexist implications against her because there are too many Evil Queen tropes being played straight with her, but there’s a time and place to criticize the author’s writing. For now, I just want to recognize and appreciate the ideas that I speculate that he deliberately intends to come across.

TL;DR Dany is the YMBQ because: 1) she’s the one candidate that Cersei was shown to dismiss and whose identity, like the valonqar’s, will take Cersei by surprise; 2) she was never victimized by Cersei, so Cersei’s abuse wouldn’t be justified by the narrative in any way; 3) she is not a helpless princess who is easy to idealize because she never had any power to begin with (or hard choice to make to begin with). Instead, Dany is a good, competent and experienced queen who, by subverting Evil Queen tropes, gives us a positive outlook of women in positions in power.

There are maaaany other reasons as to why I’m pretty confident that Dany is the YMBQ, but I’ll save them for a very long meta that I’m currently writing with @rainhadaenerys.

[butwhatifidothis]

r/Edelgard seems to have completely turned against Claude now. But the weirdest part is that they keep calling him an imperialist, while at the same time denying Edelgard is one.

It was only a matter of time before they did honestly. While Dimitri and Edelgard more directly oppose each other ideologically, even if it’s merely stated as so by the game Claude and Edelgard are presented as being “closer aligned” in terms of ideals, and any character shown to be a potential ally to Edelgard is seen in a good light in their eyes and any character that is shown to be unable to be an ally is a villain/bad person, so he was given some leeway until recently. 

Look at how they bend themselves trying to make AM the villain route, how they sometimes completely discard Rhea’s words in favor of Edelgard’s despite the former literally being present when history was happening and the latter having Imperial Telephone tell her the totes fer reel correct version that happens to paint humanity as pure good, at how Edelgard’s treatment of Seteth and Flayn is excused and sometimes justified, at how Dimitri defending his land against an invading force that has the explicit goal of conquering them is painted in the worst possible light. It’s a consistent tendency to put down every character that could even potentially make Edelgard look bad... so Claude was never going to escape this treatment forever, since he arguably makes Edelgard look the worst. Not because of what she did to him - that trophy is being valiantly fought by Dimitri and Rhea - but because of his actions and goals and accomplishments compared to hers.

Remember Edelgard’s supposed goals, according to her stans? Claude does them, with far more peaceful results. 

“Reform the Church” - Edelgard gets rid of it entirely in the majority of her endings and has it state-sanctioned if she does allow it to stay all the while actively persecuting the faithful in the Empire during the war, Claude always has the Church around and it is stated to be going through more natural reforms under Byleth and Seteth’s guidance and like the rest of the non-CF routes gives refuge to the said persecuted faithful. 

“Unify Fodlan” - Edelgard forcefully unites Leicester and Faerghus back under Adrestia’s banner and erases their cultures while doing so, Claude unites Leicester, Faerghus, and Adrestia under a new banner (the United Kingdom of Fodlan) with no explicit mention of the erasure of the former nations (unlike “the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Church of Seiros both vanished from the people’s memories” like in CF’s ending narration). 

“Reveal the truth of Fodlan’s history” - Edelgard only tells a “truth” that goes directly against everything established by the game’s foreshadowing and never looks farther into what she assumes to be true, Claude finds the actual truth and does so by asking Rhea, someone who would for sure know the truth of what happened (all while risking the chance of her blowing away his previous assumptions of what’s been happening)

“Reveal the truth of Fodlan part 2″ - Edelgard/CF has multiple instances that reveal that portions of history are being deliberately covered up (Dorothea/Edelgard endings revealing censorship, Ferdinand/Byleth endings revealing certain battles not being recorded “ History books extol Ferdinand's success as a lord of his territories, but they do not make mention of the hard-fought battles he endured alongside his wife. Thus, half of his life's work is lost to time”), no mention of such things happening in Claude/VW’s endings

“Better relations with Almyra” - this is a throwaway line in Edelgard’s story that is completely optional and easy to miss as well as never appearing in any of her endings whatsoever (as well as any mention of bettering foreign relations), this is Claude’s entire goal which he is stated and even somewhat shown to have accomplished in the course of his story

“Looking out for the weak” - Edelgard intentionally strips the weak of support by taking away most any semblance of a church and explicitly states that the weak will inevitably learn how to grow strong by themselves, Claude acknowledges the Church’s importance to the people even if he personally doesn’t like religion and explicitly believes that strength is found by relying on, opening up to, and believing in friends and close ones

“Looking out for the weak, part 2″ - Edelgard explicitly states that she is completely willing to sacrifice her men as well as the people of Fodlan as a whole in order to achieve a greater good and then goes on to endanger her people, Claude explicitly states that such methods are too bloody and goes on to go out of his way to protect the people through evacuation or by placing himself in front of them or keeping them out of the fighting entirely

“Achieving a peaceful Fodlan” - The majority of Hubert’s endings reveal the need to constantly spy on the populace and/or put down rebellions/assassination attempts, the only mention of something similar occurring in VW is putting down Imperial loyalists + TWS’ attempts to disrupt the peace

“Wanting help from others” - Edelgard never attempts to reach out a hand in friendship to anyone at any point of the game, Claude tries multiple times to do so with Dimitri and actually succeeds in doing so in AM (not to mention him giving his help to and asking for help from the Church in non-CF routes)

This is just what I can readily think of off the top of my head, but we see that Claude manages to accomplish much of what Edelstans say Edelgard wants to do with better results, and that’s not even getting into how Claude needs no “softening” from Byleth in order to be a more approachable person, how he never initiates fighting towards Faerghus (as in, not the Kingdom army but the nation itself, unlike Edelgard) and never tries to conquer it whatsoever (again, unlike Edelgard), how he keeps his word and assists in helping Rhea despite not liking or trusting her unlike how Edelgard claims to want to make peace with Rhea despite thinking that her and her kind need destruction, how Claude mourns the deaths of his friends and allies while Edelgard says nothing if any of her friends and allies die (even Hubert, someone she’s known for close to 20 years, one of the longest relationships of the academy students’ circle. she says nothing of his passing) save for Bernadetta whom she can set on fire, and, again, other things that aren’t coming to my right off the cuff. He makes her look horrible

And, well, ya know what that means. Claude’s actions can’t be actually good, because they make Edelgard, the hero of 3H, look bad, so there has to be some kind of catch everywhere. 

Claude bringing in Almyran reinforcements, with the approval of the Alliance’s most renown general, to help secure Fort Merceus in a more secure way (and is actually shown to have possibly actually helped in pulling off the ruse, seeing how SS tried the same thing without them and failed)? Him doing the same in some of his endings, where he sends Almyran forces to help settle the Imperial revolts that are happening? This is actually him trying to invade Fodlan, sending Almyran forces as a show of force and establish Almyra’s superiority over Fodlan, not him showing that Almyra wishes to help Fodlan reform so that their centuries long feud can finally begin to be properly set aside and allow for positive change to occur between the two countries.

Claude keeping the Alliance out of the war? This is actually him biding his time to strike back against both countries so that he can win the war and he only succeeds if he manages to trick Byleth and the Church (and Dimitri, in AM) into helping him, not him recognizing that the Alliance is weak even if fully united (let alone in the divided state they’re in) and wanting to keep his people as far away from the war as possible.

Claude giving the leadership of Fodlan to Byleth? This is actually him giving an ambitionless puppet rulership so that he can control Fodlan through them (even though even pre ts he doesn’t believe Byleth has no ambitions and will full on deny the belief that they don’t) and not him putting his faith in Byleth that they will be able to rule Fodlan justly

Claude showing concern over his friends’ wellbeing? This is actually him only trying to make sure his “tools” are kept up nicely, not him genuinely caring about those around him.

Claude coming across as insensitive in his Jeralt’s diary scene? This is actually proof/a hint of Claude’s true persona as a manipulative sociopath, not a genuine fuck up on his end (or, if you want to be nicer, a look into how he himself deals with traumatic events, though that’s up for interpretation so not the main point)

Claude saying that he wants to be supreme ruler of the world to Edelgard? This is actually him outright revealing his plans and showing regret that Edelgard managed to thwart him.

Oh, and we can’t forget how Claude actually wanted to wage war himself and was only stopped by Edelgard, and how he stole all of the progress Edelgard was making in changing Fodlan’s society, and how he never would have been able to do anything without Edelgard, and how him not siding with Edelgard is proof that he never wanted the best for Fodlan, and how the warmongering Almyrans would never want to make peace with Fodlan with that being more proof of Claude’s “true” ill intentions since he’d totally know that’d be the case

The second to last point being, of course, the only time you should take Claude at face value. And again, these are just the points that readily come to my mind as of right now. 

Like I said, there was no chance in hell Claude was going to stay in r/Edelgard’s good graces, given how so much of his character directly shits on Edelgard’s. Friendship ended with r/Edelgard, now Dimitri and Rhea are Claude’s best friends.

[jadienjaystoriesandart]

Legit the recent Tales of the SMP gave me Clue Vibes that I just had to write this out. You're welcome. So I decided to take the characters, give them backgrounds and motives for murder. Same campy fun that the Clue Movie has.

Sir Billium Blade the Third: A man of many words that include mostly making fun of commoners and poor people. Having come into his wealth when the Nether Portal closed for a while, his family used the gold they had to become rich rather quickly. He travels in his spare time, never staying in one place for a while. He's made enough enemies on his travels and possibly enough to kill to get rid of another.

His houses are filled with many objects he comes across in his travels, many of which some people love to get their hands on. Many that should belong in museums but sit ideal as objects of his wealth. it is also stated that there might be proof that he has ultra motives for his occasional get-together, covering up past murders in his home?

Traits include - Smart, Wealthy, and Charming. Cunning? Devious? and Silver-tongued?

Mister Boo (The Butler): This boy grew up only knowing servitude, his life was to the Blade Family. And still, yet he has to pay off his family's debt to the Blade Family for passage to this part of the world. Basically, an indentured servant. So long as he follows the rules, life isn't so hard, and Sir Billium rarely comes to this mansion. He's a man of few words if he is even allowed the speak. And has enough of a grudge to the Blade Family to kill for a taste of freedom. But, would he even have time to plan for murder with all the things that need to be done?

He knows this house like the back of his hand, all the passages, hidden rooms, and knows how to get from one end to the other without being seen. His main job is to make sure that the house is spotless and always ready for guests, along with serving Sir Billium.

Traits include - Quiet, Reserved, and Shy. Undetectable? Calculative? and Unforgiving?

Lord Sebastian Halo: To this man, fine wine is just one of many luxuries that only the rich can understand. Having gotten his wealth through means of deceit and trickery of those lesser than him, the Halo Family name is one that is both feared and praised. Having made the majority of the magical inventions still used to this day, Sebastian enjoys the high life of his family name through drinking and partying to his heart's content. However, he's also a man who knows all to well the people his family has stepped on to get where they are. And of the secrets that could kill to tear down his family's prestigious name.

The Halo Family is not a clean name, it's one bathed in the crushing of dreams and blood to get at its high standing. One being that Lord Halo, the founder of the family, made deals with darker beings to get the best deals. Also that he sacrificed people to this god for power as well. Proof of this is hard to come by, but it's very true. And one might also question the sanity of this family.

Traits include - Mysterious, Adventurous, and Witty. Ambitious? Delinquent? and Obsessive?

Oliver Arecaeshire Smichalist Cumbucket: Growing up in the land of Britain, a miserable island one might say if they don't live in it, Oliver has seen plenty going on in his small world. From wars, to family functions, and even betrayal. One might dare say he's well adverse in the arts of manipulation and conning. His family wealth comes from the Casino and the business *cough*Monopoly*Cough* they have on the gambling of people. He's lived long and seen many things come and go to have become jaded to life, but still eager to prove his families name to all, even if it is a silly name.

This family, though silly in name, has many secrets to hide. From bribes to the government to keep their hold on the gambling of people. To making sure alcohol was not outlawed so they could continue to drive up sales on the small island. Laugh if you will, but this family holds an iron grip on their area. Though not near as wealthy as the Blade Family, they are still high class. Oliver no doubt is aware of what might happen should his family's secrets get told. And it's has been thought he has killed once before.

Traits include - Discreet, Intrepid, and Eccentric. Liar? Paranoid? and Manipulative?

Lady Lyaria Chu: A beautiful and seductive women in her own prime, and heiress to the Chu name that hails from the west. She is well aware of her statue and well aware of how many suitors would fall at her feet for a taste of such wealth. It might seem odd that she has married three times and each of her husbands have mysteriously vanished. And that each of her husbands leaves everything of their name to her. Having no children, and being only in her late 20's Lady Lyaria has much to look forward to her in her youth and beyond. Her family name goes far back in the western area, having started as simple tailors that now make dresses for the wealthy everywhere.

Lady Lyaria had met Sir Billium when he visited her family's area and got to know him very well. Finding her seductive methods worked little on the cold man. But indeed they struck a chord with each other in their shrewd way of thinking about how the lower class is. It's a wonder to many about her ever-increasing wealth and expansion of her company could be due to the fact she murders her own husbands. But if word of that ever got out, she might have to silence a few people herself.

Traits include - Beautiful, Seductive, and Flirtatious. Ruthless? Greedy? and Narcissist?

James Napity: Coming from a lower wealthy family who only know of the Blade Family due to contracts with them through the Assassins Guild. James fought tooth and nail to make sure he and his family were safe from harm that could come to them. But in the end, it truly was all for not. Peasants revolted, and though James's family had done nothing to these wretched commoners they still sought to burn down his house. His family died as a result, and his wife blamed him for the fire, leaving him. His bitters grew to the lower class after that, the only kind-hearted man grew cold and hateful.

Before this though, he had met Billium as a childhood friend, though they rarely, if ever, got along. James found the other to be rather mean spirited and violent for his taste, but now he can see why. Though his family only has connections to the Assassins Guild as their dirty little secret, they haven't really used this since the time his great great great grandfather was head of the family. Since then, they sought better ways to grow their wealth and look where that got them.

Traits include - Calming, Perspective, and Philosophical. Wrathful? Jealous? and Cold-hearted?

Sir Karl Jacobs: What a strange man, no? His name hasn't ever been heard, yet this streamer is said to be rather wealthy. Not much is known about him which makes him even more enticing to the guests. He seems to just be here at this party for fun and nothing more, getting to know each of the guests. But isn't that just the thing? A strange man shows up from nowhere and seems to suddenly start murders at a party? Who's to say he's not here just to gain wealth through their deaths?

Karl is just a happy go lucky man and portrays as such. But have no idea how even he ended up here and just hoping to understand why he's here. Karl sets about to solve this murder while knowing he's a suspect himself.

Traits include - Funny, Happy-go-lucky, and sweet. Strange? Sly? and Thoughtful?

(Did include Drew as he’s pretty straight forward, unless you guys can think of something.)

[yoosea-mysme]

Me: I’ll try to participate in as many Mystictober days as possible

My depression: no

Mystictober 2021 | Day 6: Bomb/Cupid

This takes place during day 7 of Seven’s route. Slight AU where Unknown was a bit more prepared. Slight angst.

He nods to himself, looking down at the unconscious body before him. It’s going to be a handful to get her down the building without arousing suspicion, but he trusts he can get it done in time. At last, he’s unstoppable. At last, he’s proven useful, and She will be proud of him.

He doesn’t mean to, but he glances down at his injured hand and winces in disgust. Getting her UP to the roof through the window wasn’t any easier. She kicked and screamed and even bit him, consistently claiming the members of the RFA would come save her, waving her hands in distress to the CCTV, unknowing that no one was there to watch over her anymore; in the end, he had to knock her out to get her out. Not ideal. Completely brainwashed by their lies, that poor girl. He feels almost bad; it’s him who’s made her mingle with them, after all. But now, he’ll undo that fault, and she’ll soon be cleansed by Mint Eye.

Having calculated how to best carry her down, he carefully slides his hands under her, watchful not to hurt her any further. The Savior is going to want her in one piece, after all.

Just then, as he prepares himself to leave, he hears a sound coming from directly down them, the apartment they’ve just left.

A stranger has been located.

He smirks. It took him so much to figure out the redhead’s algorithm, undo and redo his code, twist it to his liking, but after much effort, he’d finally found a way.

The redhead would notice, after all, and as soon as he did, he’d do anything to fix it and get his dirty hands on the girl, force her back into the falsehoods that always leave his mouth. So, since he couldn’t stop him from coming altogether, Unknown did the next best thing: alter the setup so that instead of rejecting strangers, as soon as the redhead brought it back online, the security system would recognize anyone from the RFA as an enemy, and activate immediately. Including the disgusting redhead himself.

Sensed location of stranger…

The redhead is running frantically around the small apartment, warning a stranger who isn’t here to leave and let the girl be, unaware it’s his own presence the system is reacting to.

Adjusting target…

By now, he’s realized that something is wrong. He’s seen the shards of glass on the ground, he’s noticed his lady is missing, and that there is no one else inside to be apprehended. Unknown’s smirk grows. He knows he should be taking his chance to flee with her while she’s still out cold, to get away from him as fast as possible before he has to see his revolting person again, but he can’t help it. He wishes he could take a peak to the stupid look on the stupid man’s face right now.

Backing up all information…

The redhead’s voice rises, loud enough he can make out every word he says all too clearly now, and Unknown can hear the fear in his voice. The dread of knowing you’re about to lose something precious that you may not get back, and that it is most likely your fault, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Unknown knows that feeling too well, but he’s put it behind him now, thanks to the Savior.

20 seconds left. 19 seconds. 18 seconds.

Yet, instead of snapping out of it, running out of the apartment as he expected, and wasting his time elsewhere, allowing Unknown the time to disappear with his prey, the redhead remains down there, calling, begging, for someone who isn’t there.

17 seconds. 16 seconds, 15 seconds.

Unknown frowns.

He’s screaming her name, again and again, with the same fervor she called for his help earlier. Growing increasingly frantic, desperate. And Unknown finally realizes that he’s not going to come out of the apartment, not without her. Bomb or no bomb.

His hold on the girl tightens, shifting her weight in his arms ever so slightly.

He’s not going to make it.

A small smile forces its way to his lips. For years he’s wished he could end him with his own hands; this isn’t the way (the many ways) he’d imagined, but he supposes it would do. The Savior will be even more proud. She has him anyway, she doesn’t need the stupid redhead, and without him, the RFA will be weakened.

This is good.

14 seconds. 13 seconds, 12 seconds.

This is really good. Unknown nods to himself again, self-assured; yet, the sleeping body becomes heavier and heavier in his arms, almost too much of a burden for him to bear.

11 seconds.

He’s not leaving.

10 seconds

Why aren’t you leaving?

9 seconds.

Unknown breathes.

8 seconds.

The girl’s body is lowered to the ground, hitting it more hardly than he’d hoped. With a pained moan, she opens her eyes, and finds herself alone.

7 seconds.

Inside the apartment, the redhead has his eyes closed. He tried. He failed. She’s gone. And now, he’ll be gone too, because to the end, he was a good-for-nothing disappointment who can’t protect the ones he loves.

Good, he deserves to disappear.

Suddenly, there’s a sound at the window behind him, forcing him to turn in a hurry. Before his eyes, a man he knows too well, yet had never hoped to see, holding a rope leading to the roof.

Without hesitation, his face closed but determined, Saeran holds out his hand to his brother, and Saeyoung can only stare in disbelief; followed by one weak, tired yelp.

“Saeran…?”

And one given order, implacable.

“Come.”

[prettyboylovemail]

[Hana + Juzo] As Long As We’re Alive

FINALLY! I finished this fic that I’ve been working on all week!

I recently rewatched the Danganronpa 3 anime and wanted to figure out how my S/I would fit into the new killing game! Including interactions with my favorite character from the anime cause I can’t help myself 👀

(Also, for a bit of context: This takes place following my S/I from DR 1 surviving the Hope’s Peak Killing Game!)

As such, this will include anime spoilers!! Keep that in mind!

I worked super hard on this, so I hope you guys enjoy!!

Also a big big thanks to @duncanlovemail​ for helping me do some final edits and tweaks!! ❤️

—

In a split second, her life flashed before her eyes.

There were some good memories, sure, but mostly bad ones — memories of the last killing game she’d been forced to play overshadowed her happiest moments. And now, laying on the floor, staring wide-eyed at the tip of a katana, she could only remember the moments where she’d been this close to death.

But this time, she didn’t think she’d get to make it out alive.

There was a brief rustling sound from somewhere nearby, but Hana barely noticed it. It sounded as if someone was walking by and she silently begged that it’d be an ally. But as the footsteps grew fainter, she realized that she didn’t have any real allies left, and that she was only going to be left for dead. 

The man behind the corner kept walking. He’d seen the fight, or rather, the one-sided attack, but he paid it no mind. With a scowl, he left Munakata to finish his work. Who cares how many insignificant people died? As long as he made it out alive, then Juzo would slaughter every other person here. If it meant that Kyousuke would be victorious, then he didn’t give a shit about the rest.

Then why?

Why did his chest tighten up at the sight? Why did he feel a twinge of guilt leaving her to die? It’s not like that girl was anyone special or important — just some rookie from another division — so why did he feel like a piece of shit as he turned his back on her?

“Dammit, Juzo, this isn’t like you,” the man muttered to himself through gritted teeth. “Get ahold of yourself and keep walkin’. It’s none of your business.” It wasn’t until the next thing he heard that he stopped in his tracks, listening.

“Please, I-I’m not on the side of despair! I d-don’t want to hurt anyone! Please, believe me!!”

The girl’s voice sounded desperate, like she was crying. Juzo swallowed thickly, trying to take another step, but feeling his entire body stiffen up. Her voice rang through his ears, echoing in the empty hallway, the sound piercing his chest like a knife. 

“PLEASE, DON’T KILL ME!”

The man’s fists balled up, squeezing every ounce of strength that he could muster.

Shit!

“Kyousuke!” Juzo’s voice boomed through the hall as he spun on his heel. He felt the weight of his entire body shift and slam to a stop in front of the scene. Munakata paused and glanced up at him with no change in his cold expression.

“What is it, Sakakura?”

“Don’t worry about that one!” Juzo stepped forward, placing himself between Munataka and the helpless girl, frozen on the ground. “Your target is Makoto Naegi, isn’t it? Why waste your time on a brat like her?”

“Why are you interrupting?” Munakata’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Have you fallen to despair, Sakakura?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course not. But you know as well as I do that it’d be useless to kill this girl. She’s just some random kid, she doesn’t have anything to do with your plan.”

“She’s a survivor along with Naegi and the others. She’s in cahoots with them and as such, must be eliminated.” The katana glistened as Munakata turned it towards him. “And I will kill anyone who gets in my way.”

Juzo sharply inhaled. Was it really worth it, saving this kid at the threat of being turned on himself? He sent a glare behind him, seeing the frantic eyes of the shaking girl beneath him. Her eyes begged for him to save her, but pleading normally didn’t work on him. He turned back to Munakata and grit his teeth.

“What the hell’s gotten into you, man? Do you realize who you’re pointing that blade at?” Juzo raised his voice slightly. “I’m on your side, but right now, we need to focus on the real objective!”

“This is the real objective!”

There was only a moment to react. Time seemed to slow as the blade was swung, but not at him. The katana grazed past Juzo and towards the ground. He felt his heart stop as he reached out and—

“AGH!!” Juzo grunted out loud as the pain of steel cutting through flesh surged through his hand. Blood poured from the wound and it took all his might not to flinch back. He turned towards Hana, cowering barely a foot below the blade, and yelled. “GO!”

She took a sharp breath and squirmed away from the line of attack, barely able to keep her balance as her legs pushed her backwards. “W-What are you doing?” she managed to ask with a feeble voice.

Juzo gripped onto the katana with his opposite hand, keeping it in place as to not cut further into his hand. “Don’t ask stupid questions! Get the fuck out of here!! NOW!” His voice blared through the halls, shaking Hana out of her daze. She stood as quickly as she could and ran, hastily turning the corner. 

“Sakakura! Why are you letting her escape?!” Munakata shouted. “You’re a traitor to the cause—”

“No! I’m not!! Just listen to me for once, god dammit!” Juzo pushed back against the sword, yanking his hand away from the blade and jumping out of range. “Naegi is still on the move right now! Once you get rid of him, you can exterminate the rest of these stupid brats, you hear me?” There was a pause. “I won’t get in your way again, but we’ve gotta track down that bastard Naegi first.”

Another pause as both men decided their next move. When Munakata backed down, Juzo did as well.

“You’re right.” Munakata sighed, lowering his sword and re-sheathing it.

Juzo let out a sigh as well. “Good. Now come on, let’s go search for the brat.”

“Alright…”

—

The two men walked down the empty hallways, searching, scanning every corner for an enemy. Neither of them said anything, and the atmosphere was only growing more tense with every passing minute.

“Kyousuke,” Juzo started, breaking the silence between them, “those wounds don’t look so hot. We should find you a first aid kit.” When he didn’t receive any response, he paused, before making an attempt to change the subject. “Hey, so—”

“What’s on your mind?” Munakata stopped

“Well, uh,” Juzo began, “Kimura’s been killed. Kizakura got poisoned, too. Oh, and Ando was stabbed by one of the survivor brats...” his voice trailed off. Munakata hadn’t reacted to a single thing he’d said and it was starting to throw him off. Did he care that their comrades were dying? Juzo glanced away. “I… just… thought you oughta know…”

“Tengan, as well.”

Juzo’s eyes widened, “No joke?”

Munakata’s voice was cold and unwavering. “I killed him myself.”

It took a moment to process what he’d said, but it was unmistakable. Kyousuke had murdered the chairman. Of course, Juzo was always on his side, but this… didn’t seem like him. And his best friend’s icy demeanor was really concerning him. He knew that Munakata was willing to do anything to achieve his goal, but this—

“Right, sure…” Juzo turned away, putting on a smile to hide his uncertainty as best he could. “Hey, that’s good! This is what we wanted, isn’t it? To purify the foundation.”

Munakata said nothing, just stared at his friend’s back as he continued.

“Heh. ‘Bout damn time. This baby’s in your hands now, chief. You’ve been promoted.” When he still received no response, Juzo continued further. “No one in their right mind is gonna contest it. The revolution’s over, and the spoils of war are all yours! I’ll help, of course. We’re gonna fix the Future Foundation! After that, the world.”

Finally, after a couple of moments, Munakata spoke. “The world, you say…” Juzo turned to face him. “Hey, Sakakura. We go back. You’ve been at my side for years in fact, since we were students.”

“Uh, yeah…?”

Munakata’s eyes closed. “We had our share of good times, the two of us, and Yukizome, of course. Eyes always on the future. Three friends intimately bound together by the same ideals.”

Juzo paused.

“Our mentors were supportive. Tengan always found the time to give me advice. I held firm that the world could change. That I could be the one to change it.” Munakata balled his fist, opening his eyes, but kept them focused down. “That conviction hasn’t left me. It’s as strong as ever…”

“Yeah, sure…” Juzo also looked away, “Hey, it’s strong in me too, ya know. Always has been.” He returned a determined gaze to his friend. “Backing you up’s been the whole point of my life. I take a lot of pride in throwin’ down for your ideals.”

“I know you do… And you’re right, my friend,” Munakata said with a heavy expression. “Without your unwavering support, I would’ve never made it this far.”

There were a couple moments of silence before Juzo spoke up again. “Look, I— There’s something I gotta get off my chest, okay?” His heart began to race. Why did he suddenly feel so nervous? Was it because he was finally going to say it? Finally going to tell Kyousuke how he’s always felt? Or… was it something else? Something more… disconcerting…? “To be totally honest with you—”

“Enough!”

And in a flash — before he could even react — a sharp, searing pain surged through his stomach as Munakata’s fiery blade pierced through his midsection. He coughed, blood erupting from his throat and filling his mouth with the revolting taste of iron before spilling from his lips. The smell of burning flesh filled the air in an instant.

What…?

“K-Kyousuke…”

Blood quickly spread from the wound and in the next second, Juzo’s feet gave way beneath him and he collapsed onto the cold ground. He lay there in agony as the severity of the situation hit him. He choked and gasped for a breath, craning his neck, struggling to look up at the man who’d betrayed him. “W-What the hell, man? Why… would you… do this?”

Munakata’s voice was just as cold and uncaring as it was before, and it sent a shiver down Juzo’s spine as he lay on the floor beneath him.

“You know why. You know exactly why.”

And with that, Munakata turned… and left. His words hung in the air over Juzo, who lay face down, cursing himself as he felt his senses begin to weaken. He didn’t bother to watch his friend leave him there. He couldn’t bear the sight.

Why did it come to this? 

Dammit!! Why?!

Then everything faded to black.

—

Hana staggered through the halls, dragging her injured ankle beneath her. It’s not that bad, she told herself, as long as she could keep moving. As long as she was still alive. Her thoughts drifted back to earlier, when Juzo had saved her life. It’d been almost two hours since then, and the next time limit was approaching soon. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stumbled.

Why was she so useless?

Even in the previous killing game, she couldn’t do anything to protect her friends. She couldn’t save those she cared about. She just had to stand by and watch as the ones precious to her died brutal deaths. 

That included him…

Hana stopped and pressed her back to the wall behind her as the tears she’d been trying so hard to hold in fell down her cheeks. Why did she have to think about him right now? The girl felt her knees weaken, and she slid down to the floor with a heavy breath. Here she sat again, completely powerless to stop the deaths happening around her, unable to do anything besides cry. She despised her weakness. 

It might be better if I just sit here… and wait for someone to come and kill me…

As if on cue, the sound of footsteps pulled her out of her thoughts. One? No, two people, she guessed. Were they enemies? Friends? Hana’s thoughts raced. Should she run? Stay put? What would she do if someone attacked her again? Was… it even worth fighting back?

It wasn’t until she heard the sound of familiar voices that she stopped.

“Kyousuke, those wounds don’t look so hot. We should find you a first aid kit.”

Juzo? And Munakata is with him?

Hana froze up in a cold sweat. Juzo had saved her once, but he was still loyal to Munakata. If they were still together now, then— Her hands began to shake. He wouldn’t spare her again.

The sound of footsteps stopped as the two men continued talking just around the corner. Hana wondered if she should run, but her body remained stagnant, completely paralyzed.

“Tengan, as well”

“No joke?”

“I killed him myself.”

Munakata had gotten to the chairman already? Then, there was nothing stopping Munakata from killing everyone else too. Had he already killed Makoto too? Hana kept listening, as silently as possible.

“Look, I— There’s something I gotta get off my chest, okay? To be totally honest with you—”

“Enough!”

The sound that came from around the corner was enough to make Hana’s blood run entirely cold. The sound of metal plunging through flesh. The sound of Juzo crying out in pain. A heavy thud. 

No way…

There’s no way…

“Why… would you… do this?”

“You know why. You know exactly why.”

Hana’s hands clasped over her mouth to keep herself from gasping. Her entire body shook and she felt dizzy. She knew that they weren’t aware of her presence, but hearing that felt… directed. If Juzo hadn’t stepped in to save her, if he’d just ignored her and left her to be killed, this wouldn’t have happened. 

Juzo is going to die because of me.

Just like before—

I can’t do anything.

This is my fault!

Footsteps faded as Munakata walked in the opposite direction. Once she was sure he was gone, she risked a glance around the corner and saw Juzo lying on the floor, unconscious and bleeding. Her legs moved on their own as she rushed to his side, frantically checking his wounds. Thankfully, the stomach wound had mostly cauterized due to Munakata’s blade, but he was still bleeding out slowly. Hana took off her jacket and tried tying it around his stomach in a hurry. “God, please,” she gasped. “Please don’t die.”

Once she’d finished securing her makeshift tourniquet as much as possible, Hana wrapped her arms around the man, attempting to pull him up just enough to move him, to no avail. She just wasn’t strong enough to lift him, and dragging him would only cause more damage. “Damn it…” the girl cursed, frantically searching the area. She didn’t want to leave him here, but there was no way she was going to be able to carry him to safety by herself. She had to get help or—

“I’m not going to let you die, I promise.”

Hana stood and ran down the hall, looking for anyone who would be willing to help. Maybe if she found Makoto. Or Koda— Izayoi should be with her, right? Juzo said that Ruruka had been killed, she could only guess that Koda’s the one who’d done it. If she found the two of them, they could help—

“Please. Please. Anybody.”

—

Hana’s eyes fluttered open slowly, a groggy dizziness overtaking her as her vision attempted to clear, and she scanned the area around her, disoriented from just having woken up. She glanced down at the bangle donning her wrist, still displaying the forbidden action she’d been cursed with, and let out a deep sigh. She’d made it through another time limit alive.

Thank God…

She filed through her memories, trying to remember everything before she’d dozed off. She’d found Juzo laying on the floor, bleeding, after his falling out with Munakata; that part was clear. But after that— Hana frowned— she couldn’t really remember much. She postulated that the time limit had stopped her from finding help, and she figured that if Juzo were still alive, that she wouldn’t know where to look for him. She could only hope that he’d survived.

The girl staggered to her feet, slightly swaying from a lack of balance, and stretched her arms into the air. “Alright,” she muttered to herself, “what to do now?” 

For a moment, she considered looking for an ally, someone who’d be willing to team up with her, but the thought was fleeting. With her forbidden action being as fragile and deadly as it was, Hana figured that it’d be best to stay alone for now, what with Munakata on the hunt. She counted the number of known victims in her head, trying to figure out who was left. 

Makoto, Kyoko, Hina, Koda, Izayoi, Munakata, Ryota, and, maybe, Juzo. 

Including herself, only nine people remained alive out of the starting seventeen. She grit her teeth. Too many people had died already. 

History was repeating itself.

Suddenly, there was a screeching sound, signalling the overhead speakers turning on. Hana glanced up, trying to find where the noise was coming from, before a voice came through. 

“Makoto Naegi.”

Munakata—!

“If you’re awake, I assume you’ve figured out what Kirigiri’s forbidden action was.”

She took a sharp breath and her body went rigid. Kyoko…? Her forbidden action? Hana’s eyes widened with shock. 

Is Kyoko dead?!

The voice on the speakers continued, but Hana was only half listening as she repelled the urge to throw up. The pit in her stomach only continued to grow as she heard Munakata call Makoto to confront him alone. He was planning to kill Makoto, she’d already known that; but now, with Kyoko dead, he would be falling right into Munakata’s trap, spurred on by emotion and his relentlessness to push forward. That’s just always how he is — how he was back then too — and Munakata would be anticipating that.

Hana rushed from the room she’d taken shelter in, scanning the halls for anyone else. If Munakata was able to use the loudspeakers, then he should be in the broadcasting room, so if she just avoided there, then she would be fine and she could get help to back up Makoto. It wasn’t much, but she had to try.

The walls around her were broken and beaten to hell, with blood splattered against the dark concrete and rubble scattered across the floor at every turn. The sight made her nauseous, but she had to keep moving. No matter what, she had to push forward too.

As she turned a corner, Hana bumped into something solid and lost her balance. Her ankle twinged with discomfort and she let out a pained groan as she fell backwards. “Agh… shit.” Noticing movement in her peripheral, her eyes darted up to see what, or rather who, she’d crashed into, and she was hit with a wave of relief.

“Damn it. Can’t get anywhere without runnin’ into one of you brats, huh.”

“Juzo!” Hana exclaimed, half from the reassurance to see him alive, and half out of worry that he was still loyal to Munakata. Although, she considered, after what happened between them, she couldn’t say for sure that he was still on Munakata’s side. “How are your injuries?” As the girl stood, her eyes drifted to his midsection; the tourniquet she’d wrapped around him was gone, but his wound wasn’t actively bleeding anymore. Juzo must’ve noticed the concerned look on her face, as he only scoffed in return.

“I’m fine. What’d’you care anyway?”

She made a dejected noise of acknowledgement and glanced away. “Sorry, is that a bad thing?” When he didn’t reply, Hana let out a soft exhale. “I saw what happened… between you and Munakata. I know it’s not really my place to intervene, but I couldn’t just… leave you there, ya know?”

Juzo sighed, a low growl escaping his throat, “So you saw all that.” He looked down at the ground, an expression on his face that was somewhere between anger and sadness. He clearly felt betrayed. Understandable, all things considered. “Fuck,” he cursed as he sat on a nearby slab of rubble, “this whole thing is such bullshit! How did it get this far?”

Hana stayed silent, watching the man in front of her. He was normally so aggressive and strong, but seeing his posture fall and his confidence crumble, it filled her heart with a nostalgic sadness. The same feeling that she had before, before that sickening execution, seeing someone so strong that she had nothing but admiration for collapse into weakness and despair. That feeling of helplessness as she couldn’t do anything but watch from the sidelines. It hurt to see the same thing happening yet again.

“I’m sorry…” Hana spoke gently as she sat beside him. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and keeping her gaze fixated on the floor. “...for what happened. If you hadn’t had to save me, he wouldn’t have—”

“Shut up.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t have to save you. Hell, I thought that I should’ve let you die back there.” Juzo spat out his words with no hesitation. “Even I wondered why I bothered to step in.” Hana didn’t say anything, and only kept her eyes on the ground. “But what’s done is done. And even if I didn’t come to save your sorry ass, Kyousuke already had it in his head to betray me. Leaving you there wouldn’t have prevented anything.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Hana mumbled. “You two were so close. Why would he have tried to kill you if he didn’t think you were on Makoto’s side?”

There was a pause.

“That’s the question, ain’t it…” Juzo sighed. “I gave everything to show him I wouldn’t hesitate to kill for his ideals. I really would’ve killed that bastard Naegi with my bare hands to prove that.” He slumped over, raising his wrist to clearly see the band hanging from it, “If it wasn’t for this damn thing, I could’ve done it by now.”

“But would killing Makoto really have put a stop to all this?” the girl questioned, sending a glance over her shoulder.

“Dunno. Don’t really care either, at this point.”

Another pause, this one longer than the last.

“Then, let’s end this game.”

“Huh?” Juzo scowled at the girl. “What do you mean by that?”

Hana’s eyes glinted with determination, “The attacker is still out there, right? That’s why there’s a new victim after every time limit. So if we can find and stop the attacker before the next time limit happens, then the game should end!”

“Forget it. If you wanna get yourself killed, then go right ahead, but I’m done.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t give a shit what happens to the rest of you.”

“But you want this game to end too, don’t you? Or would you rather just stay locked up in here forever?”

“Tch. Even if you think you could find the attacker, how would you be able to stop them? They only show themselves when everybody’s knocked out, so how do you plan to fight them?” He gestured down to Hana’s leg. “And with your busted up foot, I doubt you’d be able to handle yourself if push came to shove.”

That seemed to make the girl back down, as her shoulders slumped in realization. “Well. I don’t know yet. But I still want to try, ya know?” Her eyebrows knitted together. “If I don’t do anything, it’s only a matter of time before everyone is killed off one by one. I don’t want to let that happen again.”

Juzo groaned in frustration, “Right, I get it. You’re trying to play hero just like Naegi, aren’t ya. Cause of that other killing game, right?” Hana kept quiet. “Jeez, you brats are all the same, thinkin’ you can change things by stickin’ your necks out. So damn annoying.” 

He gave her another harsh glare. “So what if I entertain your little suicide mission, huh? How do I know you aren’t just pullin’ a fast one on me, trying to get me to lower my guard?”

“What?”

“Say, hypothetically, that you’re actually the attacker. What makes you think that I can just blindly trust anything you have to say?”

Hana paused and stared at his face before sighing and closing her eyes. She moved her wrist into view, showing off her bracelet, and the message that circled around it in big, red letters. 

SUSTAINING AN INJURY THAT DRAWS BLOOD

“I haven’t shown anybody this,” Hana said quietly. “I’ve been too worried that someone would use it against me, so I’ve been avoiding everyone else.” Her voice was soft, yet full of resolve. “Earlier… even if I could’ve somehow escaped from Munakata alive on my own, one tiny cut from his blade would’ve been enough to do me in. If you hadn’t come when you did, I would’ve absolutely died... one way or another. All it would take is the smallest drop of blood, and I would be dead.”

“So, what?”

“So that means that I’m willing to put my trust in you. Maybe that’s a dumb decision, but I don’t want to doubt people anymore! And if I don’t do anything, more people will just keep dying. If that means taking a few risks, then so be it.”

“Yeah yeah, I heard you the first time. But unless we can get these stupid bracelets off, we can’t do shit. You’ve gotta accept that.” Juzo paused. This girl, as annoying as she could be, was persistent to say the least — more stubborn than he would’ve given her credit for. It reminded him of before, back when Chisa was still alive. She was persistent and determined, just like that. She wasn’t the strongest person, far from it. She was emotional and irritatingly cheerful sometimes, and the look that Hana had on her face right now looked exactly like her. 

Juzo glared at the girl for a moment, studying her expression for any hint of ulterior motive. It wasn’t like he thought she had it in her to play mind games, but with everything that's happened up to now, he couldn’t underestimate anyone. Not again. 

“Tell me something. I’ve been wondering for a while. ”

“Hm?”

“Why do you keep following me around, anyways? You’re not gonna confess your love or something, are you?”

Hana was clearly caught off guard by the question, but found herself giggling in reply. She brought up her hands to dismiss the implication. “No, no way. Believe me, I don’t have any interest in you like that.” She gave him a smug look. “Plus, I don’t really think I’m your type—”

“Get on with it.”

The girl laughed, “Got it, sorry.” A moment passed and she gazed off somewhere down the hall, a forlorn look gracing her features. “Well, it’s just that…”

“...?”

“...You remind me of someone. That’s all.”

Juzo gave her a questioning look, but she paid it no mind. “So that’s it, huh.” He’d be lying if he said the sentiment wasn’t at least a little bit mutual, but he’d rather die before saying that out loud. “Well, I couldn’t give a damn about that.”

“I know.” With a soft chuckle, Hana kept her eyes down. “It’s kinda silly, isn’t it? To try and keep someone’s memory alive by projecting them onto someone else… it’s stupid to think that’ll help anything. But even so… it’s given me a little bit of courage.” Hana faced Juzo with a bright, albeit somewhat forced, smile. “So it can’t be all bad, right?”

“Tch…” The man clicked his tongue in annoyance. “If you say so.”

The sound of a distant rumbling caught both of their attention and they shot to attention. Juzo jumped to his feet, while Hana’s entire body straightened up.

“That has to be Munakata! He should be fighting Makoto right now,” Hana exclaimed. “We have to help!”

“I told you to forget it! You’re already hurt. You shouldn’t even be walking around so much, much less trying to fight,” Juzo snapped back at her.

“But if I don’t, then Makoto’s going to die!”

“So be it! If he decided to confront Munakata, that’s his own damn business! This isn’t your fight to meddle in!”

“I’m not going to sit back and let another one of my friends get killed!” Hana shouted, standing on her wobbly legs. “If you’re going to still side with Munakata after all of this, then fine, but I’m going to try to help my friends!” She only made it a few steps before a hand gripped her wrist and forcibly yanked her backwards. 

“Don’t be stupid! Just stay here and don’t get in the way, otherwise you’ll end up dying too, you hear me?!” Juzo yelled, squeezing the girl’s arm tight so she couldn’t break free. “If you’re so fucking concerned, then I’ll handle it.”

“What are you talking about?” Hana asked, wincing at the pain in her wrist. 

“You said it yourself! The tiniest cut would be enough to kill you, wouldn’t it? So just find somewhere to hide and stay put.” He released her arm and the girl pulled back to rub the spot he’d grabbed. At this point, Juzo didn’t even know what he planned on doing, but all he knew was that this stupid girl was going to get herself killed if she tried to fight Munakata again. Regardless of how he personally felt about the matter, he knew that her determination would be useless in this situation. “You’ve already done enough, so just stay outta sight and don’t die, got it?!”

Hana stepped back, a confused look on her face, but ultimately didn’t make any more attempts to oppose him. She exhaled softly and nodded. 

“Okay.”

And without a second thought, Juzo ran off into the darkness.

—

Shit… Why’d I let myself get roped into this…?

Juzo breathed heavily, grasping at his sleeve, soaked in blood, as he staggered through the dark halls. He figured it was almost time for the next time limit, although he couldn’t be sure of that anymore. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the throbbing pain surged through his left arm, and he risked a glance down to where the bangle had once been. With his hand now gone, he was free from risk of being poisoned, but the cost of passing out from the pain wasn’t far behind him. 

“D-Damn...it…” he muttered through strained breaths, “This is… all ‘cause of… that girl…”

He thought back to their earlier conversation. He had no initial plans to take what she’d said to heart, not like this, but seems that today was full of surprises, wasn’t it? All that shit he’d said before was just a means of shutting her up at the time, but after pondering it for a while, he realized what he had to do.

He’d set off to find Munakata and Naegi, to stop them from fighting, by however he deemed necessary. Whether that be by stopping Kyousuke again, or by killing the brat that started all of this, he would end this damn game. It wasn’t until the beeping of his wristband caught his attention, to signal that the time limit was fast approaching, that he remembered Hana’s plan. As reckless as it was, he knew that if one of them were to be able to pull it off, it would be him. That’s when the solution to get rid of the bracelet came to mind, and if it took a drastic measure, then that’s what he’d do. So he endured through the pain, biting the fabric of his jacket, grinding it between his teeth as he did what needed to be done.

But now, as he wandered the empty halls, with only the ominous glow of red from the monitors to guide his path, he wondered if he’d made the right decision. He had barely any strength left, why waste it on trying to fight off the attacker when he should be preserving it just to stay standing? Bullshit...

That’s when he heard it, the sound of screaming echoing in the darkness. Was somebody getting attacked? It almost sounded like—

Juzo took off in a sprint, dashing through the hallways. Anger surged through his body like electricity, but he skidded to a sudden stop at the sight before him.

Makoto Naegi, kneeled on the floor, a knife poised to his throat. 

In a split second, Juzo was at top speed again, his strides slamming into the ground with every step.

I don’t think so, you little bastard!

One swing was all it took to knock the knife from the boy’s hands. He paused in confusion, looking around for a second before Juzo gripped him by the arm and raised him to eye-level, slamming his elbow to Naegi’s throat. He writhed and flailed under the pressure of being choked, but Juzo didn’t waver. 

“You’re the man who defeated Junko Enoshima. If you think I’m going to let you kill yourself, then you’re dumber than you look!” he growled, pressing his arm further against the boy’s neck. “You hear me, you little punk?! Not now. Not ever!”

After a few more seconds of struggling, Juzo released Naegi, letting him fall to the floor in a heap as the boy coughed and gasped for air. He looked up at the man in confused distress. “H-How are you even—?!”

Juzo picked the knife from the floor, gripping the handle. “You wanna die so bad, then allow me.” He raised the blade, fully intending to strike and end this right then, but stopped himself mid-swing when Naegi recoiled. He looked pathetic, like a small animal cowering in fear of its predator. Juzo scoffed and dropped the knife, his feet collapsing beneath him as his strength started to waver. “Dammit…”

“How are you still awake?” Makoto asked, staring at Juzo intently. That’s when the boy noticed the crimson-soaked sleeve and gasped, “Y-You cut off your arm?” He looked at the man with concerned eyes. “Well, that’s one way, I guess.”

“Figured I could make the scene before it happened…” Juzo muttered, his energy depleting quickly, “I could meet whoever’s behind this god-forsaken game face-to-face. Take out the attacker and be done with it.” 

Naegi’s eyes widened when he realized Juzo’s intention, and paused. “There is no attacker. There never was.”

“...Huh?”

“It was suicide. The victims— They were all brainwashed into killing themselves by what they saw on the monitors.” Juzo followed Naegi’s gaze up to the glowing monitor. “When the time limit was up, we were all knocked unconscious. But whoever was closest to a monitor got woken up by a special signal from their bangles. Awake and alone, they were subjected to a video. After that…” his voice trailed off, leaving the implication as it stands.

Juzo slumped over, his expression darkening. “Who did this? What sicko piece of shit thinks this is entertaining?”

“That, I don’t know. At least not yet.” Naegi raised a hand to his chin in thought. “But they wouldn’t even need to be here for it to work.”

“What are you tellin’ me? They could’ve set this up? Controlled it remotely?”

“Probably.” Naegi straightened up, sending a determined smile over in the man’s direction. “On the bright side, at least we don’t have to suspect each other anymore.”

Juzo could only laugh at what he was hearing. Rage boiled through his veins, and it took everything in him to keep himself in check. “So what are we supposed to do now? It’s all a shell game. We’ve been manipulated from some unknown other place. Killing each other like a bunch of animals.

“Yukizome. Gozu. Kimura. Some video brainwashed them into taking their own lives? All the horrible things we’ve done to smoke out the killer and it’s been us?!” Juzo gripped the handle of the knife in his fist once again, shaking with anger. He slammed the blade against the concrete, breaking it in half. “Son of a bitch!”

There was a long pause as Juzo took a breath and collected himself. Everything he’d done — everything he’d tried to prove — it was all for nothing. This entire damn game has been nothing more than a way for some bastard in a far-off place to enjoy a good show while they all chased their tails like a pack of rabid dogs. Juzo stood again, turning and taking a few steps down the hall.

“What are you doing?”

Juzo gritted his teeth. These fucking brats and their million questions. What did it matter what he did now? Why was everyone so concerned about him and whatever he was doing?! “I have somewhere to be,” he forced out. Really, he didn’t know where he was going to go, or what he was going to do. Nothing mattered anymore.

“Let’s end this game.”

He paused, stopped dead in his tracks. What the hell? Did all these survivor kids have the same brain, or was it just coincidence that this brat said the exact same useless shit that she did? Whatever, he didn’t care. He didn’t have to listen.

But of course, that didn’t stop the words from coming. “If we destroy all the monitors, that should do it,” Makoto urged. 

“Heh.” Juzo sent a glance over his shoulder. “You got any idea how many of those things there are?”

“B-But—”

“Don’t let me stop you. Just don’t expect me to help either.” With those words, Juzo continued walking. That’s right. It didn’t concern him. He didn’t give a shit what the others did anymore. But still, that uncomfortable twinge of guilt in his chest tugged at him. The same one he felt when he saved that girl’s life. Juzo tried to force the feeling down, but it stayed, regardless, and his feet stopped yet again. He remained quiet for another second before breaking the silence. “True story… I wanted you to die. I’d have gladly done it myself.

“See, I’m not a man who can just forgive and forget. I hated you. No, from the moment you walked out of Hope’s Peak High School alive, I loathed you. Despised you,” Juzo growled. “So, I’m not gonna lie, when Munakata told you to kill yourself, I thought, ‘it’s about damn time’.”

“But why?” came the feeble voice of the kid he hated so much, “I don’t…”

“Because…” Juzo glared back at him. “You defeated Junko Enoshima.” 

When he saw the confused look on Naegi’s face, he continued. “Yeah, that’s right. Bitch played me like a fiddle. I knew she was up to something, and I kept my mouth shut.” The anger he’d been feeling surfaced even faster as he balled his fist. “I had one job and I botched it. So this is the result…” Juzo raised his mutilated arm and gave the boy a pained smirk. “It’s all on me. I couldn’t stop everyone dying... I couldn’t kill you for Munakata...

“And in the end...” Juzo’s eyes narrowed, his eyes stinging and his chest throbbing, “he threw me away. Like an old pair of boots.”

“He was wrong! It’s the game!” Naegi called after him. “The man was fooled into thinking you’d gone over to the enemy!”

Juzo kept walking, gripping his injured arm as he stepped into the darkness.

“Tch… No kidding…”

And this time, he didn’t turn back.

—

“Dammit…”

He didn’t think anything mattered anymore. He knew that whatever he did at this point would ultimately be useless. But… even so…

“If I don’t do anything, more people will just keep dying. If that means taking a few risks, then so be it.”

He kept walking. Kept moving. Through the pain and the dizziness, he kept pushing forward. Was this because of that that girl said? Or because of the brat? Or were these his own thoughts? Juzo didn’t know anymore. With every blood-stained step, his breathing staggered. Every motion felt like a hundred bricks weighed on his shoulders. But he had to keep moving. As long as he was alive, then he could fight.

Juzo pushed on, making his way towards the breaker room. His movements were slow and heavy, but determined to make it there. As he stepped through the Monokuma-printed door leading into the hidden room, he scoffed at himself, at the effort he was making. “Well, damn. Guess I’m a Despair now…” he let out a dry laugh that came out as more of a cough. “Wish I could find the humor in—”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before his foot gave way beneath him, causing him to stumble forward and crash into the wall. A cry of pain erupted from the man’s throat as he collapsed and slid down the wall, leaving a bloody trail behind him. And as Juzo lay crumpled on the ground, bleeding out from the wounds he’d sustained, he smiled. “This is what I get for letting Enoshima off the hook…” Everything in him wanted to give up, wanted to close his eyes and fall into the depths of darkness right then. 

But he couldn’t die yet. Not until he’d finished what he said he’d do. 

Not until this fucking game came to a bitter end.

With the last quarter of strength he could muster, he pushed himself onto his knees, draping his body against the breaker room door in order to force it open. He gazed down at the long line of switches. “Always been too much of a softie,” the man grinned to himself.

Juzo reached up, struggling to move through the crippling agony, and grabbed the first switch.

“...‘Least that’s what they’ll say about me.”

—

Hana sat alone with her knees pressed to her chest. It’d been too long, and the silence was starting to drive her crazy. What was everyone else doing right now? Was anyone else even alive? The thoughts that plagued her mind had continued to worry her, but she forced them down.

Everything’s fine. We’re going to make it out of here. All of us.

Then suddenly, everything went black. Hana jumped, startled by the sudden change, but relaxed slightly when the emergency lights came on. The room she’d hidden in was then illuminated a deep red, and the girl stood up to investigate. “Does this mean…?”

She peeked out into the hallway, not seeing anyone nearby. The girl stepped out and her foot swelled up in pain at the sudden movement, but she didn’t stop. Hana staggered along the wall, looking for anyone else to confirm what she’d thought. However, she didn’t have to wonder for much longer. With one final beep, the wristband that’d acted as her shackle for the entirety of the game snapped and fell to the ground. Hana touched her wrist, finally freed from the burden of death, and she let out an exasperated breath.

Is the game finally over?

It only took a couple minutes of walking to notice a few drops of blood on the ground. Her eyes followed the trail, seeing the drops become larger and more frequent as they moved down the hall. The dots began to connect in her head, but she shook them away, not wanting to assume the worst. She followed where they led and was brought to a room she hadn’t been to before. 

“A library?” she questioned aloud, seeing multiple bookshelves lining the walls, “Or maybe a study?” Her inquiries were cut short, however, at the sight of a body coming into view from behind the couch. Hana let out a gasp at the startling sight. Ruruka lay on the ground, a singular gash across her neck, a puddle of blood recently drained from the wound. Her eyes were wide; her expression twisted in shock and pain. She must’ve been caught off guard, Hana assumed.  A closer look revealed something glinting from inside the corpse’s mouth, what looked like a piece of blue candy on her tongue.

They did say she’d been stabbed, but did Koda really do this? She was never the type to murder someone in cold blood, even if it was someone she hated.

As brutal as the scene was, Hana gulped heavily and attempted to move past it as best as she could. Ruruka probably deserved it in all honesty, as horrible as that sounded, but that didn’t make seeing her dead body any easier to handle. Once she met up with Koda and Izayoi later, she could ask them about it, but she shook her head to rid herself of the image. Ending the game was the top priority. So she continued deeper into the room.

The trail of blood, now in large puddles, led into another area, a space behind one of the bookshelves that’d been pried open, it looked like. Hana glanced inside to find a hidden room, one a lot darker than the previous one. She stepped inside, following the trail further until she entered a final door. And when she peered inside, she froze. 

That’s…!

Slumped against the back of the room, one hand on the final switch, lay the familiar figure of Juzo. She rushed to his side to check for any signs of life. Considering the amount of blood he’d lost on the way here, it was unlikely that he was still alive, but—!

“Oh God…” Hana stared into his face, eyes closed and a peaceful smile gracing his lips.

She checked his mouth for breathing. Nothing.

“No, no, damn it.”

Checked his neck for a pulse. Nothing still.

“God, please…”

She pressed her ear to his chest to listen for a heartbeat, every movement more frantic and worried than the last. Tears stung her eyes.

I can’t be too late!

But then—

Bu-bump.

A heartbeat. Faint, but still barely there.

Bu-bump.

Another one, even fainter than the last.

He’s still alive—!

Hana stood, her body shaking and her breathing ragged, and dashed from the room as quickly as her legs could move. “I promised that I wouldn’t let you die, dammit! I can’t fail now!”

She ran and ran and ran, turning every corner at top speed, searching for anyone who could help. Anybody. That’s when she heard the faint sound of voices at the end of the hallway. She didn’t know who, but she didn’t care. “Help!! Anyone, please help!!” she shouted into the darkness, praying that someone would hear her and come to her aid. 

“Fujiwara?” a voice echoed back.

As she ran farther down the hall, multiple people came into view, and tears of relief spilled from her eyes. The figures of her friends, as well as a platoon of soldiers that’d presumably been ordered to search for survivors, relieved the immense weight on her shoulders. “Makoto! Byakuya!” 

Finally, finally. They were saved.

“There you are!” Makoto exclaimed. “We hadn’t heard from you all day, we thought you were dead!”

“Don’t worry about me right now! Juzo needs help!” Hana shouted with as much conviction as she could muster. “He’s in the breaker room! He doesn’t have much time left, but he’s still alive!” She turned to Byakuya and his squad of reinforcements, in tears. “Please, we have to save him!”

Byakuya paused for a moment, taking in the information, before barking an order to his crew. “Three of you, follow Fujiwara to the breaker room and ensure Sakakura’s safety! The rest of you will follow Munakata and Naegi to stop Mitarai! Now! Go!”

“Yes, sir!”

—

The sun peered through the blinds into the hospital room, shining more light on the already blindingly white room. Juzo stirred a bit, then begrudgingly opened his eyes with a strain. He attempted to sit up, but the overwhelming pain caused him to fall backwards onto the bed.

“I wouldn’t attempt to move for a while. You won’t be fully healed for quite some time.”

“E...Eh?” Juzo struggled to see who was speaking to him, and squinted to see blonde hair and the shine of glasses being pushed up the bridge of the man’s nose. “Y-You’re… that rich kid… from the Hope’s Peak survivors…” he forced.

“Byakuya Togami, Future Foundation: 14th Division,” he scoffed, crossing his arms hastily over his chest. “I’d be offended that you don’t remember who I am, but I’ll give you a pass due to your injuries.”

“What are...you doing here? Why am I… still alive?”

Byakuya sighed, “Well, to answer the first question, it’s been about 4 hours since the killing game ended. I’m only passing through on official business to check in on the status of the remaining survivors. Naegi and the other members are also here on business as well, albeit in separate rooms.”

“Tch…”

“And as for the latter,” Byakuya continued, sending a glance over his shoulder, “this one practically begged me to save your life.”

Juzo followed the blonde’s eyes to see a sleeping girl sitting hunched over in a chair in the corner of the room. The man clicked his tongue and pressed his head back into the pillow. 

“She’s the one who found you, barely breathing, and ran all the way to come find someone and led my squad back to your location. Once my team brought you into custody, we rushed you to the medical tent. It’s a miracle that you survived, honestly.” Byakuya sent a sharp glare in Juzo’s direction. “The fact that you’re still alive is extremely lucky. I’d be sure to give her your thanks when given the opportunity.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya,” Juzo sighed, but ultimately didn’t say anything else. 

“Well, now that you’re awake and are showing no signs of falling into comatose.” Byakuya stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It seems my work here is finished.” The man turned towards the door, taking a couple strides before stopping. “We’ll have to hold another meeting again soon to discuss the plans of the Future Foundation, but I would rest while you can. We’ll take care of everything for now.” And with that, Byakuya left. 

Juzo’d only been half listening, honestly, but he got the general gist. Still, he closed his eyes, processing everything he’d heard. The killing game was over, and he’d actually survived it. He had fully expected to die at the time, and had accepted that fact, but he made it out alive, thanks to her. He mentally laughed at himself. It was always thanks to her, wasn’t it? The only reason he was even able to end the game in the first place was because of her saving his life after being stabbed. And it was because of what she said that he kept fighting to the end.

I’m so damn pathetic, aren’t I? When did I get this soft…?

Then he drifted back to sleep.

—

Time will always pass. No matter the hardships, the tears, and the pain, life will always go on. Maybe the memories wouldn’t fade right away, not for days or weeks, even months or years, but with every passing day comes a new opportunity to make the best of your situation. 

Bad memories may linger, but life moves forward.

Hana stepped into the sun, a gentle breeze blowing wisps of her hair into her face. It’d been a week since then, and things have been getting back to normal as quickly as possible. The Future Foundation was still working on rebuilding their headquarters, as well as it’s credibility with the public, and they were still trying to figure out what to do with its remaining members. But despite all of that, the girl smiled at the bright blue sky above her.

They’d made it. Through everything, they’d made it.

“You seem awfully cheery for someone still hobbling around on one leg,” came a man’s voice from behind her. She recognized it instantly.

“What are you doing moving around out here, Juzo?” Hana turned where the voice was coming from. “You aren’t fully healed yet, ya know.”

Juzo scoffed, “I got tired of layin’ around in that stuffy room every day. Can only take so much boredom before I end up wanting to off myself.”

The girl put her hands on her hips and sighed, but made no objection. “Geez. If you keep pushing yourself, you’re only gonna have to stay longer.” She gave him a smirk. “Well, whatever. Just don’t get caught by the hospital staff.”

“Doesn’t matter to me. It’s not like I’m leaving the hospital grounds. Just gettin’ some air is all.”

“I know, but still.” She gestured for him to sit on a nearby bench and he reluctantly obliged, to which she joined him as well. After a couple moments of silence, gazing off into the distance, Hana spoke quietly. “Things have gotten pretty crazy lately, huh…” she muttered, “never expected it to end up like this…”

Juzo stared at the girl as she spoke before closing his eyes and leaning back into the bench. “I get what you mean. For one thing, I figured I’d be dead by now.” When Hana didn't reply, he changed the subject. “Did you guys ever figure out what happened to Munakata? Or where he is?”

She shook her head. “No, we didn’t,” the girl answered, “he wandered off somewhere and told us not to follow him, from what I heard. Mentioned something about bearing his own cross. I don’t think he’ll be coming back to the Future Foundation anytime soon.”

“Damn it,” Juzo huffed under his breath. “He’s always been like that. Thinking that he has to take on all of the burdens alone. He’s such an idiot.”

“I don’t think it’s stupidity.”

“What’re you gettin’ at?”

“I think he’s concerned about you and the others in his own way. ‘Course, I can’t say for sure, since I didn't really know him that well. But it seems to me like he recognizes that what he did was wrong and wants to put some separation between himself and the organization to allow for healing. 

“For both the Future Foundation and also for himself,” Hana spoke gently, “I think he needs this time alone to reflect. We shouldn’t urge him to come back if he isn’t ready to.”

“Don’t get all preachy on me,” Juzo retorted. “I know all that already.” 

The girl airily laughed a little, “Sorry…”

“So,” Hana leaned back, pulling one knee up to her chest, “what are you gonna do now? After you’re discharged, I mean.”

“Hell if I know…” the man sighed. “‘Dunno what I’m supposed to do now.”

The girl hummed in response. “Well… what do you want to do? Plan on looking for Munakata?”

“No. If he decided that he’d rather be alone, then I have no reason to chase after him anymore…” Juzo’s eyes fell to the ground. Before Hana could respond, he continued, “What about you? What are you gonna do now that the Future Foundation’s in shambles?”

“Hm, I don’t know…” She placed her chin against her knee, thinking deeply, “I think I just want to go home… wherever that is now…”

“Yeah,” the man let out a small breath, letting his gaze drift into the distance, “same…” After a few minutes, Juzo spoke up again, breaking the silence. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

He paused, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to mentally piece together the right words, “Why…’d you bother savin’ me back there? I get the first time was to pay me back for helpin you out against Munakata, but—”

“Because… I promised I wouldn’t let you die.”

“Huh?”

Hana brushed a few strands behind her ear and looked down, “I made that promise to myself and I… couldn’t break it, no matter what.”

“What’s up with that?” Juzo snapped back, “You got some kinda hero complex?”

She gave him an embarrassed smile and an empty chuckle, “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just…” she hesitated for a second, “someone I knew was… very stubborn about keeping any promise he made. And I guess that sorta just… rubbed off on me.”

“I see how it is,” the man replied, “one of the kids from the Hope’s Peak Killing Game, right?”

A light blush appeared on Hana’s cheeks as she pressed her lips together and fidgeted her thumbs in her lap. “W-Well…”

“Lemme guess, you had a crush on the guy. Then he died, so now you feel like you’ve gotta keep up his ideals in his place,” Juzo said frankly, not wavering for a second. “Sound about right?”

The small squeak that the girl made, along with her face turning a deeper shade of red by the moment, promptly answered his question. “T-That obvious, huh?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Juzo sneered. “But whatever, it’s not like I care to pry into some brat’s love life.”

Hana glanced away, leaning her cheek against her knee once again, “I know I mentioned it before, but you kinda reminded me of him, ya know. I think that’s another reason why I told myself that I had to save you, no matter what happened.”

“Uh-huh?” Juzo paused, giving her a questioning look. “You’re still not gonna say you like me or some sappy shit like that, are you?”

“I already told you it’s not like that!” the girl huffed. 

“Just checkin’.”

“It’s more like… I dunno,” the girl thought for a moment, “you’re both so strong and aggressive and stubborn, but you’ve both got a soft side too. You care about your friends and are willing to do anything to protect those who are close to you. That’s something I really admire, so…”

“Tch, you don’t need to say anything else. I understand.” Juzo also looked away, an embarrassed expression on his face. “I’m not that big a softie.”

“I know, I know. But still…”

The two sat in silence for a while longer, watching a couple birds fly from their perch on a telephone wire. The wind blew softly. Even with all of the chaos happening around them, everything still seemed so peaceful. They still had a lot of work to do; the war against despair wasn’t completely over yet, but for now… 

Things were okay.

With a loud sigh, Hana stood. “Welp! Nothing’s gonna get done if we keep sitting around here.”

“Take it easy. Didja forget you’re still bandaged up too?” Juzo scolded. “You don’t need to push yourself either. Take your own advice for once, will ya?”

Despite Juzo’s harsh tone, Hana giggled. “Don’t worry, I’m alright. I’m mostly healed now. You’re the one in a lot worse condition, but yet here you are still walking around.”

“I’m a lot more sturdy than you are. I can take it.”

“Mhm, sure. You don’t need to act all tough.”

“Shut it.”

“Got it, sorry,” she said with a dismissive laugh. “But, I should really be getting back to the others. Gotta check in on some official Future Foundation business before I go home.” The girl gave a bright grin before turning her back to him. 

Juzo paused before pushing himself up as well, leaning heavily on his crutch. “Right. Duty calls, I guess.” He watched her back for a moment. “Hey, kid.”

“What is it?”

“If… you ever need anything. Just gimme a call, alright?”

Hana smiled softly and nodded. 

“Okay!”

- END -

[dorki-c]

Metanoia

Characters: Dabi and reader

Relationship: Dabi X Pro-hero! Reader

Quote: “Metanoia”

Gift for: @glitterfreezed (Aka photoshop goddess) THANK YOU for being one of my very first moots on this crazy platform! I really hope you enjoy this one shot (as I spent way too much time on it XD) and for anybody reading this: GO CHECK OUT GLITTERS PLAYLISTS!! They are honestly amazing!

Tw: Kidnapping, Use of Guns, Slight nudity

Going on patrol lately has been boring.

Sure, (y/n) wouldn’t pass it up for helping little old ladies get across the road or helping itty bitty children find their parents within a crowd.

But besides that, there was little to nothing to do- no paperwork, no criminals terrorising the streets, or vigilantes on loose- the streets were cleared and scrubbed down from any crime lately.

It was strange.

Nothing has been the same ever since Kamino ward as well.

The moment you found out your lover was a villain; you took great lengths to create distance from him. Not sparing him a second glance or another phone call- let’s not forget you blocked his number- although doing these things made you seem like an asshole; you are a hero.

Heroes do not date Villains.

Its absolutely forbidden.

Though should you have stayed with him, something could’ve happened- he could’ve used you for blackmail, ransom, and maybe trafficking- as terrifying as it sounds, at least your far from your old apartment.

At least your away from that freak. That sadistic freakshow, with his stupid smirk and (beautiful) weird ass scars.

Luckily, the clock had ticked to the hour that announced your release from countless wasted minutes of scrolling through your phone as two feet laid disrespectfully on the hero agencies desk where nobody pointed out the blatant rudeness she was showing.

Even if she wanted to stay here, the female should get home soon. Even if there was no problem during the day, that doesn’t reassure that there will be trouble when walking through the evening.

Where you had the inkling of protection that is provided to you by your muscle memory, nobody should rely on themselves to do a simple task like walking home when there is such a thing as societies creepy-crawly insects withering across the nooks and crannies of cities and flooding the deepest rabbit holes with their sickening ideals.

Just thinking about them brings revolting nausea into the churning acid within the insides of your body as it screams out to stay aware of the footsteps you take, of the glances you throw out, and of your hands gripping the cheap handbag- that you bought on a whim from that one charity shop around the corner of the apartment building- when a hand of yours dipped inside the bag to grip the weapon that laid unaware of whose blood it could spill today.

The three walled mirror room moved down from whatever floor it was on and when opening the doors, a small (and annoying) ping was heard through the (also) small lobby area.

When approaching your apartment door with your guard up and one of your hands swiftly opening the rusted door handle allowing a small gust of air to run into the vacant apartment, the eyes of a human watchdog sporadically darted from one place to another.

Making sure she can securely (slam) open the door, the pro hero steps in one footstep at a time like one of the cliché spy movies before throwing her bag down and yanking the heavy weapon out of her bag.

Its matte black exterior elongated to show the vertical and horizontal bits and pieces of the weapon as (Y/n) rested one of her fingers on the trigger whilst fiddling with the safety lock to make it unlock.

Once unlocking the safety lock of the gun, she leaned it towards the ground, turned around for a brief second to retrieve the key from her apartment door, then kicked said door shut with the heel of her foot.

Even when she investigates her almost empty apartment three times without a peaceful resolve at the end, the female is already sitting on her couch scrolling through another apartment renting website for herself.

It’s pathetic.

She’s on the run from her ex-boyfriend because she knows that if she gets caught by him, there will be a low chance of her escaping from his grasp again. It was quite evident from his group’s little broadcast that if anyone “tries to catch us, you’re going to be caught first.”

What if that applies to people wanting to escape from them?

.

.

.

Stripping herself of the day’s tiredness, the female wore the loosest clothing within her wardrobe and ventured out to the shit-tip of her kitchen- the sink only had a few dishes in it, but, otherwise the trash looked like it got taken out once a year and there were so many letters scattered in piles over the counters.

Sighing at the sight, letting a hand of hers travel up her shirt to soothe an itch on her back, (y/n) shook her head at her own mess and still continued to go towards the fridge to dig through it in order to find the cheap- most definitely shitty- microwavable food she bought from the store only three days ago because to be completely honest, she’s saving up for buying a ticket out of this shit country and living in another one.

Ripping the film cover off of the food’s plastic container, she shoved her shitty food in the microwave and let the annoying beep sound through the apartment while (y/n) went into the small living room, grabbed some shorts that were sunbathing under the flickering yellow bulb and put them on in order to take out the trash.

When entering back into the apartment however, a flash of darkness alerted her body to go limp.

What was this feeling of restraint around her arms and legs? Moving one of her wrists- in an attempt to pull them out of the bindings- a harsh rub of a frictional material bit across the sensitive layer of the underside of your wrist, where it elicited a hiss to very subtly slip from your lips.

That seemingly helped beg a question in your curious mind. “Are my eyes covered?” Although when opening your eyes, a flurry of white blinded you causing a multitude of red freckles to dance across the pale illumination.

Whoever thought not putting a blindfold on you was a smart idea, it seems clear to me that they didn’t watch enough spy movies.

Okay, time to take a look of your surroundings.

First of all, Y/n glanced down to see if she had any major injuries- nope, the only thing missing from her body was her clothes and if that didn’t count as being kinky, then (y/n) doesn’t know what it counts as- along with her feet barely touching the carpeted floor, her ankles were tied to what she assumes to be a wooden chair.

Looking off to the side after shifting her gaze from her feet to her forearm her eyes picked out the surroundings behind her and the type of seat she was sitting in. Wow, whoever kidnapped you, really knows how to do it inefficiently.

Though, if they’ve used cheap ass rope and tied you up to a wooden chair- out of all the chairs in the world, they choose a wooden chair- along with forgetting to put a blindfold on you, they probably didn’t take any precaution when kidnapping you because the criminals probably have back up on hold.

Meaning there was more than one culprit involved and that they don’t expect you to get out of this area due to being outnumbered.

Moving your head upwards once more, the outlines of what seems to be a closet and a drawer were all that you could observe before some sort of jiggling sound was emitted through the silent room.

It wasn’t till the door opened that it revealed somebody that (y/n) didn’t expect. A hitch lodged itself like a six-foot down corpse where only grave looters would be able to find it. Was she seeing a ghost? Perhaps. Did she care? Maybe, however she was trained to not overreact in a situation like this.

“Well, look what we have here…” The metal contraptions that held the person’s tough layer of skin nudged a little in the direction of the muscle’s movement. “…A squirming itty-bitty hero.” The venomous hiss of their voice slipped real close to her ear as the lamp pointing obnoxiously into her right eye was turned off.

“So, this was your doing?” Snapped the hero as the villain sat down on her lap and gently grasped her chin- just like the old days- where his fucked up (handsome) grin shone brighter than the hero on her first debut. Dodging the question, the male let his weight lean onto the female’s thighs as she harshly craned her jutted out facial bone away from his hold.

“Oh, and it looks like your still as feisty as ever.”

“Yeah, I am. Got a problem with it, villain?” The hiss made the patchwork villain only recoil an inch backwards before narrowing his pupils at the nickname and gripping the very first thing his eyes land on, your neck, where the surface of his skin was smouldering to the touch.

“I wouldn’t say that if I was in your position.” He proclaimed as the slimming of her lips straightened out to a thin line, “Now, I’m here to offer you a position and…” From somewhere on his body, he pulled a gun- one of the many similar pistols that you hoarded in your apartment for safe keeping- then pointed it straight at your thinly protected heart where the brush of stainless chilled metal tingled the very fabric of your body.

“…it would be wise of you to listen.” Sure, a gun was pointed literally at her chest- lets not forget that she’s being forced into this position of unwillingness- but hopefully, some otherworldly deity will let (y/n) live one more second.

“Okay, good girl?” You’ve never committed to metanoia before, but at this point, you might as well.

[faraway-in-headspace]

I?? I searched Chicken Choice Judy on google out of curiosity because it sounds oddly familiar like there’s a similar-sounding name and I found 4 websites selling the shirt design. But the descriptions on these pages are BUCK WILD??

Written version of the descriptions under the cut (very long).

[Begin ID

First image states:  Long ago, when I had hair, I was an undergrad living in a house with nine other men. Near as I can tell, three of them (not sure which three) never bought food, just lived off what they stole from the Chicken Choice Judy shirt But I will love this other seven. We had several house meetings about it, but nothing changed. One day, I came in from grocery shopping. By coincidence, all 10 of us were in the kitchen. I started putting my stuff away. 1st thing I pulled out of the bag was my half-gallon of milk. I opened the carton, took a couple of drinks from the carton, then gargled some of it, and spit it back in. I opened my tub of margarine and licked the whole surface. By now, the room chatter had stopped because the other nine jaws had dropped open.) To your original question, those specific topics would take several years to build, as they depend on several layers of pre-requisites, which would require either that more advanced topics such as algebraic topology to be taught in elementary school, or that the buildup process happened blazingly fast during high school – both of which probably stretch the biological limits of what pre-teens and teenagers can reasonably be expected to accomplish. I spit on all my veggies, took the bread out of the package, and licked and spit on it, then carefully put it all back in the plastic bag. Remind teenage daughters to look through them before going on date with the boyfriend, in case they want to use one. I labeled it all and put it away. None of it was stolen. I never said a word, but I made it a point to repeat the performance anytime anyone was around to see it. Others began to emulate my approach and food theft stopped. Even I found it revolting, but it solved the problem. Works even better if you are sick or can at least make your thieving roommates think you are. While some cities are starting to reopen in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, people around the country are continuing to wear masks in public and practice social distancing. Vogue is committed to staying safe, and offering hopeful, optimistic content that highlights moments of camaraderie and exceptional acts of heroism from around the world. We are all looking for a little comfort too—be it a soothing Instagram account or a stylish creator on TikTok. It reminds us of the power of little things.

Second image states:  A couple of guests informed me my office was too minimalist and that they expected more things to be hanging on my wall the Chicken Choice Judy shirt besides I will buy this next time they visited my wife’s and my home. I kinda hope they held their breath while they were waiting for our next invitation. They both went on to backstab me and my wife pretty bad a few years later. Another set of guests tried to squat. I had driven them all the way from Florida to Massachusetts under the impression that they had jobs and a place to live lined up. They offered no money for gas, hotels on the three-day trip, or compensation for the inconvenience and effort. He even tried to weasel out of the dinner he offered as a thank you by forgetting his wallet. The dude got me off the streets years ago and I wanted to pay him back in some way, but my wife and I were in no position to have extra residents in our home. We just don’t have the room or money. I made all of this VERY clear and told my old buddy that we could only house them for a couple of days max. There are MANY other details, but the disrespectful thing my former friend said was wordless. As I was kicking them out and they were angrily loading stuff into my car to bring them anywhere but here, my buddy left his gigantic knife right in the center of my wife’s desk. Like that was supposed to make us change our minds and let them stay? In the days of dial-up, I had a family call and not be able to get through because we were online. They decided to show up unannounced. They literally caught me in my underwear as they were let into the apartment before I could even react to being rudely surprised. Some of my family members have a history of abuse, violence, and stalking, something at least one of the visitors, my mother, was quite aware of since she lived through it with me. Her tagalong friend decided to put in her two cents and tell me I should get a call waiting or a second line because they were trying to call me. That did it! I suddenly forgot I was just wearing underwear and angrily asked my mother’s friend if she was paying my phone bill. My mother-in-law, stepfather and mom’s friend beat a hasty retreat and NEVER did the pop-in ever again.

Third image states:  That was why when we did get to reality shows, Etro and then Dolce & Gabbana plus Jacquemus later in France, it was wonderful. Clothes are all about contact: As a wearer, you feel them on your skin, and as a watcher, you process them with your eye. The watching part can be done secondhand, but the Chicken Choice Judy shirt in contrast I will get this impact will always be second to the real thing. I read some commentators in the U.S. saying, “Too soon” or “Wear a damn mask!” which I always did, but these opinions while valid enough lack perspective. Milan and its surrounding region Lombardy went through what New York did but earlier. Through sagacious governmental management much more effective than that of the U.S., Italy has managed dramatically to flatten the curve across the rest of its territory. These shows just like the reopening of flights, stores, factories, and restaurants were symptomatic of recovery that, far from being taken for granted, is being tended to with vigilance and cherished with gratitude. The digital Fashion Weeks were better than no Fashion Weeks at all, but as an upgrade on the real thing? Nah. Like everyone, I missed the shows in the experiential sense this season. But for the first time since I began covering the collections several years ago, I didn’t miss a single brand or designer’s contribution to Paris Fashion Week. Which is to say, thanks to the Fédération’s online platform, I was able to watch every name on the haute couture and men’s calendars. This brand on-demand convenience not to mention being spared the logistical headaches of zigzagging across the city was pretty great. Also, everything was on time, from the films to the manner in which we filed our reviews. While efficiency can be satisfying, it’s not necessarily exciting. Ultimately, we had to accept that the focus this season wasn’t going to be the clothes but rather the brands conveying some combination of identity, process, and values. And in the absence of standardized criteria as in, showing a minimum number of looks, specifying a time range, it was interesting to observe how heterogeneous these experiments proved to be quasi–ad campaigns versus short films, conceptual or fantastical visions versus raw and documentary style. A proper kimono takes nearly an hour to put on – I’m sure most Japanese girls would much rather spend a few seconds and slip on a dress. Get survey responses from targeted consumers today.

Fourth image states:  Around a decade ago, not long after he started his own label, Massimo Alba made a great mistake. A batch of shirts and T-shirts he was working on that had already been garment-dyed one color were mistakenly exposed to another. Speaking at his showroom presentation this weekend, Alba said: “It’s very interesting to me that so many good things start out as mistakes like this.” That accident was to Alba what the Chicken Choice Judy shirt moreover I will buy this mold-infected petri dish was to Alexander Fleming: a stumbled-upon eureka that led to a career-defining course of the investigation. This collection featured a series of softly tailored jackets, corduroy pants, and shorts, plus light cashmere sweaters that were hand-overdyed two, and sometimes three colors. It’s a process that led to variations in tone that included acid-trip floods of purple on purple to subtle bleeding of magenta across mustard yellow. Like most of Alba’s garments, these dyed pieces appeared at first glance conventionally prosaic. The more attention you gave them, however, the more their exceptional qualities became evident. Take a pale blue jacket, for instance, which at that first glance seemed passingly related to a surgeon’s scrubs. To the hand it was light and almost textureless in its softness: The fabric was a cotton mousseline developed for Alba by Albini. Long-sleeved, in a delicately mottled finish of washed-out sky blue, it made for an ideal mid-summer shake in pink, sleeveless, it was an impactful shirting second skin. Other interesting developments this season included a cotton pant named the Myles with acutely kinking stitched gather at knee-level on both legs and another handsome pant, baggy in white poplin, with patch pockets. A blue tropical weight jacket named the Lenny, after Bernstein, was Alba’s interpretation of a bohemian creative’s ideal piece of workwear. Collarless shirts in ripstop linen and button-up short-sleeves in terry were further finely effective coups de théâtre. Alba is a self-deprecating yet dangerous designer: Try just one carefully chosen piece and that’s it, you’re spoiled for good because nobody else quite compares. The museum in Prague where this portrait is held describes the ring on her first finger as the ring given to her at her wedding. It’s not comfortable. Maybe a lot of girls think that a see-through blouse can attract the attention of boys or they think that it will make her look much smarter. Meghan has no dress sense: no knowledge of fabrics, fit, styles that flatter, proper tailoring, Her father raised her in L.A. Enough said. Her idea of dressing for an event is “dress up” like a little girl dressing up as a princess. Shiny! Tight! Celebrity “fashion” not elegant, just flashy.

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