#anyway next time I agree to mod a zine

[getvalentined]

I forgot how much art I did for Chaos Theory. Trying to get it all organized for public posting is absolutely wild—every time I think I've got it all, someone mentions something and I remember oh yeah I did that too didn't I where did I save that?

The cover, one full page illustration, three pieces of promotional art, a logo, a wordmark, all the backgrounds and assets used (and left unused) throughout the project, and four—technically five—spot illustrations.

The spot illustrations are actually mostly full pieces that I drew, cropped to hell, and then added in with a bunch of other details; the most egregious example is that one of them features a grainy photo of Turk Vincent in The Tubes, spilling out of an overfull manila file folder along with a photo of Galian, a 3.5" floppy, notes and stacks of paper with paperclips and binder clips all over. When conceptualizing this, my neurodivergent ass was like "on top of hand-drawing all those other tiny elements to their most minute detail, I really should fully render Vincent in The Tubes if I want this to look right." I proceeded to do so, and then scaled that part of the image down to less than an inch on its longest axis for the final print. It is practically invisible. Why did I do that.

This is on top of doing all the graphics for social media accounts and the shop, stretch goals, announcements, and creating the actual print layout for the zine itself.

I'm literally sitting here like HEY ME FROM THE PAST ARE YOU LIKE…OKAY???

[aifastic]

Party Havoc

Hello, everyone! Sorry for the sudden income of fics but I’ve been delayed by life ;-; I'm proud to announce that I've been part of the wonderful At Ease, Soldier Zine! Everyone did an amazing job, the mods were delightful to work with and I'm really glad that I've been able to contribute. This was my piece!

I hope you enjoy it ♥ Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: T Characters: Soldier, Demoman, Engineer, Scout, Pyro, Sniper, Heavy, Medic, Spy, (RED team basically), Merasmus

Summary: The team organizes Soldier’s surprise birthday party. However, as it’s usually the case with the RED team, nothing goes according to plan.

Party Havoc

"So, is everyone here? No more, no less?" Demo asked, counting heads for the nth time.

"We're all here, pardner," Engineer reassured him, stopping him before anyone could protest—or set something on fire.

"And Soldier's busy outside! I took care of that," Scout said with a smirk. I don't want to know, Engineer thought, for his own sake.

"Perfect!" Demoman clapped his hands, grinning. "Let's get into business, lads: it's Soldier's birthday next week."

"Next week?" Scout counted with his fingers. "Isn't that near to the Fourth of July?"

"Exactly! Janey and I always celebrate his birthday on the fourth. Tradition, y'know."

Everyone nodded; after all, everything Soldier-related is even more of a mystery than Spy. No more than Pyro, though.

"So, what do we have to do?" asked Heavy, frowning.

"Aye! I have a list." Demoman retrieved a torn piece of one of Engineer's blue schematics paper, all scribbled in white chalk.

"Hey!" Engineer protested.

"It was the longest sheet of paper I could find." Demoman shrugged. "So: We have to choose from this list! Who wants to do what?"

Everyone leaned in to check the list.

"I'll get the food," Sniper said.

"If you think you will make us eat roasted lizard or whatever—ugh—roadkill you find—"

"Christ, I was just gonna drive to Teufort to get meat from the butcher!" Sniper cut Spy off, offended.

"Whatever," Scout said. "I'm gonna be in charge of the decorations!"

"Hmmmphmmph!" Pyro elbowed him.

"What? No way! I'm an artist—" Pyro stared at him. "On second thought, we both could do it."

"Hmmmph!" Pyro celebrated, hands up.

"Heavy will take care of gift. I have many Mann Co. coupons to use."

"Alright, that leaves us with… Hm… En gineer will be cooking," Medic declared, and everyone nodded in unison. "And um… I can get the drinks!"

"Uh, I was going to do that," Demoman said nervously.

"Nuh-huh!" Medic tut-tutted. "You," he pointed at him, then to the hastily scribbled last item on the list, "are going to do this."

"Nah," Demo said. Everyone stared at him. "Come on! The man hates me. I hate him. Can't we just not—"

"To be honest? I agree." Scout looked at him. "Why did you add it to the list?"

"I guess…" Demo sighed. "He seems important to Soldier. Somehow.” He threw his arms up in exasperation. “Oh, alright." He gave in. "I’ll do it.”

"Well, I guess that's it. Uh." Engineer hesitated, but they really needed to know sooner or later. "Where's Soldier, anyway?"

"Uh," Scout looked to the ceiling in avoidance. "Did you know that raccoons like sour cream? Like, a lot?"

"What the hell," Sniper said.

-----

Scout cleaned up the last remains of the mess that Soldier left when he was bathed in sour cream and the raccoons chased him all around the base. "I shouldn't have to do this," he complained. "They asked me to distract him!"

"Mmph mmphmmmphmmph."

"Well, yeah, not exactly but… Done!" He cleaned his hands on his clothes. "Man, we can finally start with the decorations. We should do a big poster! With 'Happy Birthday' on it." He looked at Pyro, a bit subdued. "Uh, by any chance, do you know how to spell it?"

Pyro shook his head.

"Damn it!"

-----

"What do you mean, 'there's no meat'?"

"Sorry!" squeaked the Teufort butcher. "There was a flu that killed all our provider's animals; we can't sell the meat in those conditions!"

"Bloody hell." Sniper put his hat back on and exited the shop. "What am I gonna tell everyone—? Hey!" A little kid eating a sandwich had just bumped into him. "Watch it!" The kid blew a raspberry at him.

Wait a minute. What if…?

-----

"What d'ya mean there's no meat?" Engineer asked Sniper, scratching his head. "What are we gonna do?"

"Well, I went to several places and bought these." He pointed at the back of his camper, filled with boxes of bread, tomatoes, cheese and lettuce, among other ingredients. "Think the big guy can make do with all these?"

-----

To the relief of Engineer and Sniper, Heavy nodded. "Some ingredients missing, but Heavy can do this."

"Thank you, big fella," Engineer said. "We all know who's the best here at sandwich making."

"Thank you." Heavy said. Then he asked, somewhat sheepishly: "Can you help me with gift? I think I made mistake. Ordered too many?"

"Too many?"

"I thought you added coupons together for big discount. It seems it is one coupon, one item."

"Oh. Oh." Engineer said.

"Too many of what?" Sniper asked again.

------

Spy was busy figuring out a way to distract Soldier, as per his task. Soldier was already antsy with all the unexplained movement. "He's paranoid," Spy reasoned. "I could give him another reason to be." He grinned, donning his BLU Spy disguise.

-----

"Ach, I forgot I have been banned out of town!!" Medic yelled, driving Engineer's truck out of Teufort like a maniac, bottles of beer clinking against one another on the back as a mob chased him away.

-----

"For the last time, you bloody bastard!" Demoman yelled. "You are important to Soldier, so you will come!"

"MERASMUS SHALL NOT!" The wizard levitated, making things fly all around them. "SOLDIER IS NOTHING BUT A NUISANCE TO ME! HE SHALL NOT HAVE A HAPPY BIRTHDAY! EVER!" He abruptly stopped, catching himself. "Look what you made Merasmus do! My room is ruined. NOW BEGONE!"

-----

Demoman appeared at the base, falling over the cake Engineer was decorating.

"Bloody hell!" Demo cursed, smashing one fist on the icing-covered floor.

"I hope you have good news because I swear to God, I'm counting down to ten right now," Engineer said.

"I…" Demoman started cautiously.

"It was the third cake."

"... What happened to the others?"

Engineer deflated. "Pyro burned the first one while chasing Scout due to 'artistic differences,' and the second one was 'borrowed' by Medic in order to use it for self-defense against a Teufort man who was chasing him with a fork."

"Woah, that's… Do I want to know?"

Engineer sighed. "Hell no."

"Alright, so Merasmus isn't coming."

"Well, I guess it's better for us, anyway," Engineer said honestly. "It means less trouble."

"I guess so."

They sat on the kitchen floor, taking a breather.

"At least we still have five days left."

Engineer looked oddly at him. "Demo, it's July 4."

"Wait, what? How?!" He thought back of Merasmus. "That bloody wizard made me time travel, bloody hell!"

"Well, the thing is, you're gonna have to help me make another cake in record time."

Demo wiped a hand down his face.

-----

"What does it say there?"

"Don't mess with me! It clearly says 'Happy Birthday'!"

"I wish," Sniper said, squinting at the letters. "This is a 'b' instead of a 'd,' the 'p's look like 'f's…"

"Oh, shut up," Scout muttered, turning beet red. "I bet he doesn't even notice."

"Hmmph hmmph," Pyro told him in consolation.

"Sandviches ready," Heavy announced.

"Awesome. How's the cake going?"

"We're running out of icing!"

"Try to economize it—apply it only on key areas, not on the whole surface."

"Thanks a lot, Doc. What'd ya think we've been doing?!"

"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't crushed the fourth cake—"

"It was an accident, I swear!"

"Guns are arriving."

"Guns?!"

Engineer sighed. "Heavy wanted to gift Soldier something practical. He bought one too many killstreak guns."

"Black Box. Practical. Effective."

"Loaded. Those weapons come loaded."

"Bah. We have ammunition all around the base. Nothing's gonna happen," Scout reasoned

"I hope so," Demo said. He went back to applying icing to the cake but he abruptly stopped. "Wait, where’s Spy?"

"Distracting—"

The wall of the main hall suddenly exploded, debris flying everywhere. When the smoke cleared they all saw a bunch of Black Boxes scattered on the floor, next to Soldier who was choking… was that BLU Spy?

"I finally got you, maggot! Your days of playing hide-and-seek are over!" Spy's disguise disappeared and revealed his true features. "Wait, what?"

A chunk of the ceiling fell onto the (fifth) cake.

"Surprise!" Scout yelled, waving at the poster that proudly announced… 'naffy dirdbay.'

"Yaayy," said everyone with different degrees of enthusiasm. Engineer was too broken to say anything, staring in despair at the place where the cake used to be.

Soldier threw Spy to the side. "You remembered my birthday!"

"How could we forget, Janey," Demo said, putting him in a headlock.

Spy coughed loudly a few meters away from the floor.

"You put a lot of effort in this and I couldn't be prouder of you! Every single one of you is an honor to America!"

"We're glad you liked it, mate."

"Hmmph hmmmph!"

"Uh, we had cake but—"

"Please don't say anything else about it," Engineer muttered.

They were all going to grab their sandwiches when a puff of green smoke filled the room.

"Oh god, now what?"

"MORTALS!"

"Merasmus!" Soldier grinned. "You came to celebrate!"

"Not at all! I came to RIGHT YOUR WRONGS!" Merasmus's voice echoed in everyone's ears. He took from between his robes a birth certificate. "This impostor's birthday is in MAY!"

"What?!"

"I WILL MAKE YOU SWALLOW YOUR WORDS, MERASMUS!"

"MAKE ME IF YOU CAN, SOLDIER! MAY DESPAIR RAIN UPON ALL OF YOU!"

"... Alright, fellas, what about we kick this son of a gun's behind?"

"Hell yeah." Everyone nodded and ran to get their supplies.

-----

"BEST! BIRTHDAY! EVER!" yelled Soldier as he spun around in a hurricane that Merasmus commanded, shooting rockets at him with one of his many new killstreak Black Boxes.

"Happy birthday, Soldier," everyone yelled back, grinning despite themselves.

[miss-tc-nova]

Priorities - Hermod x Reader

Hey! I finally finished it! I’m kinda iffy but it was fun. I chose Hermod because I’ve had this concept in my head for a while and I didn’t think Bragi, Eraqus, or Xehanort fit the story. 

As for the Christmas zine, It’ll probably be posted well after Christmas and after the Christmas zine when the mods give the green light. But I will probably post a different Christmas related one beforehand. 

Anyway, enjoy a little Halloween mayhem with out sweet boy. 

~~~~~

              The grip around my shoulders tightens and his body goes rigid. Slate eyes closely follow the shambler but tension lets up only the slightest when they pass.

              “Hey, you okay?”

              Feeble is the attempted cover-up. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

              Halloween is fast approaching and the citizens of Scala Ad Caelum do what they always do: celebrate. Jack-o-lanterns line the streets, fake spiders and ghosts hang from all heights, and there’s a skeleton on every block. As for the more extreme, there’s a group of people who rent the town hall every year to put on a haunted house. Seeing as this is my favorite time of the year, this annual attraction is always a must-see for me. But this year, I’ve been invited by the keyblade warriors-in-training to tag along with them. There was one person who didn’t seem quite as thrilled though—he’s my boyfriend and he’s not exactly excited to be here.

               “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I tell him, trying to reaffirm my words by drawing gentle circles against his hip. “We can go home if you want; I don’t mind.” I actually do but forcing him into something that makes him this anxious is borderline bullying.

              There’s a little more sincerity in this smile. “No, it’s alright. Besides, you’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”

              The corner of my lips pulls back. Oh what this boy wouldn’t do for me.

              This is where Smarmy Fluffcoat makes his entrance. “What are you lovebirds talkin’ about?”

              “Just talking about how amazing that kettle corn smells,” I answer. It’s actually my friendship with the redhead that led me to meeting the rest of the key kids, so I know full well that he’ll never shut up about it if he learns about Hermod’s unease.

              “Uh, right,” Hermod agrees. A peck lands on my temple. “I’ll go get some.”

              “Thank you, sweetheart.” I watch him amble towards the stall with kettle corn, giving a wide berth to the walking dead doing their thing.

              My boy re-joins the line, treat in hand, and the group screws around waiting for our chance to experience the fright. My brain keeps careful track of his behavior while also diverting the attention of our friends away from said behavior. But then the time comes: we’re next to enter the haunted house. At the front waits a woman who greets the visitors and runs through her spiel.

              “And just remember, don’t touch the actors; they won’t touch you.

              “I’m sorry, what?” A trace of fear belies Hermod’s feelings. “There are people in there?”

              I tug on his arm. “It’s okay. They’re not allowed to touch us,” I murmur. “Last chance to back out,” I whisper.

              There’s a nervous gulp but no answer. Pulling back the curtain, the woman coos, “Have fun guys.”

              Without waiting for any of the guys, Urd and Vor charge ahead. Bragi follows with a shrug and I take one last look at Hermod before leading him in, leaving Xehanort and Eraqus to bring up the rear. Only a few steps into the darkness, we hear Urd stumble.

              “Watch your step guys,” she calls back.

              Bragi follows with, “What is this?”

              My foot suddenly sinks, causing me to teeter. Hermod immediately pulls me back, putting a steadying arm around my waist. “Are you okay?!”

              “Yeah,” I laugh. “It’s a mattress.” Hermod wobbles but follows me across.

              Just as he steps off the obstacle, a light flashes on beside us, revealing a rotting face. The zombie screams and my boyfriend leaps back, stumbling into Xehanort who trips back onto the mattress. Eraqus helps his buddy back onto his feet and I manage to pull Hermod away from the terror.

              As we go through halls of dim light, spooky props, and loud noises, actors continue to vex us. Shocks and surprises earn shouts from everyone but most of us laugh it off. Unfortunately, Hermod’s obvious anxiety earns him quite a bit of heckling and it takes stepping between him and the actor or dragging him into the next room to de-escalate the situation. Nevertheless, his stress levels are visibly climbing—each encounter becomes more and more dramatic and I’m not exactly sure what he’s going to do when he hits his breaking point.

              “What’s the hold up?” Bragi asks, addressing our pause.

              “There’s a wall here,” Urd answers.

              Vor adds, “It’s squishy.”

              “Squishy?” Eraqus wonders out loud.

              “Yeah, it—woah!” Suspenseful silence overtakes us while we wait for Vor to explain her exclamation. “Hey, there’s a hole in this wall.”

              “Oh, it’s probably one of those squishy walls you have to push through,” I explain.

              “Oh yeah,” hums Bragi.

              One by one, we squeeze our way through, but the other side isn’t very welcoming to nervous visitors. When I finally escape the squishing trap, I find a very dim light at the far end of the hall. As we go, I can’t help thinking that this hall is suspiciously dark and even more suspiciously empty.

              Hermod’s hand disappears from my grasp and I’m jerked back sharply. Blinding light fills the room along with half a dozen screams but I recognize the back facing me. Worried these fight-or-flight instincts will end badly, I dart around him, throwing my arms around his waist. The erratic movements in his chest cease but I can still feel the chaos in his heart.

              “Keep moving!” Xehanort urges.

              Both his clammy hands remain clasped in mine while we move forward.

              There are only a couple rooms after that yet Hermod keeps his tension under control. Finally, we make it out of the haunted house with little more than a slightly dusty Xehanort and an abashed Hermod.

              The group wanders out of the path of the attraction exit, but I sneak my sweetheart off to the side.

              “Hey, are you okay?”

              Again, with the forced smile. “Yeah. Thank gods it’s over though.” A hand starts in my hair, sliding down to my cheek. Remnant trembling mars his fingers. “Did you have fun?”

              “I did.” Wrapping him in another hug, I nuzzle against his chest. “Thank you.”

              Suddenly, Bragi bursts out in a fit of laughter.

              “What in the world?” I murmur.

              “Not good if Bragi’s laughing,” grumbles Hermod.

              A little stall is stationed, with strings webbed along the top, perfectly displaying newly developed photos. These are images of that suspicious hallway and it clicks: the bright flash was a camera. That’s when I notice the picture all my friends are laughing at. Yes, Urd and Vor are surprised and Bragi is nearly choking Vor while Eraqus and Xehanort at the back look like deer in headlights, but it’s Hermod front and center. He looks ready to fight while I’m barely visible behind his arm.

              “Dude, what the hell were you doing?!” Bragi cackles, pointing at battle-ready Hermod.

              “Looks like he was ready to kick some ass,” snickers Xehanort.

              Glancing to my boyfriend, I see him wear an uncomfortable shade of red across his cheeks.

              Vor turns on him. “You’re a keyblade wielder-in-training. Why are you freaking out?”

              His shame is getting the better of him. “Th-That’s different; these are ghosts and zombies and demons and I’m not allowed to do anything about it!”

              His friends pick and poke at him, only agitating his ego.

              Loudly cutting in, I announce, “Well I’m flattered.” Various eyes watch as I pull the picture from the line and give the vendor a handful of munny.

              Smarmy retorts, “I’m sorry, did you happen to notice your boyfriend is a scaredy cat?”

              “Did you happen to notice, so are you?” I say, pointing at his murder attempt on Vor. “Besides, he acted on instinct to protect me.” Meeting Hermod’s gaze, I can’t help but smile. “That makes me feel pretty special.” His surprise turns to a sheepish smile. The photo whaps Fluffcoat. “At any rate, I’d hate to be your date to a haunted house. I’m surprised Vor’s still breathing to be honest.”

              Urd takes the photo from me and suddenly, everyone is ganging up on the redhead. I take this opportunity to slip away, Hermod in tow. A beautiful autumn tree hides us from bystanders.

              “Did you really mean that?” the boy whispers.

              “Yeah. Did you see the death grip he had on her?”

              He frowns. “No, the part about me…”

              My touch proves much softer and smoother against his calloused fingers. “Of course I did. It’s nice to know that you’re looking out for me.”

              Now that is a real smile. “You’re too important for me to let something happen to you.” Foreheads bump together. “You’ll always be my top priority—even if the others tease me.”

              Around his neck slink my arms. “Even if I do?”

              It’s a sigh, but also a smile. “Even if you do.”

              “My hero.”

              His lips, like his hands, are a bit rougher than mine but Hermod’s kisses are always gentle and sweet. My stomach squirms, leaving me with a happy high.

              Before he kisses me a second time, I tack on, “And I’m not teasing.”

~~~~~

Nova’s Kingdom Hearts Masterlist

[kimmysfandomblog]

Oooookay so 3, 10, 11, 12, 17, 32, 38, 39, 42 and that should be enough lol

Oh man XD Thanks so much, Chloe! I think I quite agree, it’s enough :P

I answered 3, 17, and 32 here! And 39 here!

10. Which was your favorite trial from THH?

I think that the 5/6th trial is an obvious one!It was something built up throughout the game (and it gets a bit ridiculoushow many times we hear about “MukuroIkusaba, the 16th student, hidden somewhere in this school. The one theycall the "ultimate despair."” It put’s Naegi’s and Kirigiri’slives on the line, with Naegi ultimately getting chopped off because he got soclose to the truth that the trial was a farce. And then saved, because of luck?He did a good deed and Alter Ego saved him for it? I guess Kirigiri’s optionwas more of a dream ending than anything canon, anyways, so it doesn’t matter.I remember how hyped I was, because for once no one was actually technicallyblackened… no one actually killed anyone since Sakura’s dying wish moved themthat much. I’m still not really fond of some things, like Hagakure thinkingKirigiri was a ghost in the 5th trial? And I have a few otherthings, like how they all decide Naegi was guilty in the first place. Kirigiriwas pushing them to that conclusion so she could show the trial was a farce inthe first place, and she wasn’t expecting the mastermind to cut the trial shortand lie about who killed Mukuro. I still kind of feel pretty bad about thatpart in particular, although she’s clearly super angry it turned out that way,she really didn’t want Naegi to be voted the blackened. The 6thtrial, though, I really liked the reveal of Junko, not even being the “Junko”they met, and how her face was covered in every picture… As a person whostarted off with the anime, I didn’t exactly have time to catch that particulardetail (I should rewatch it sometime honestly, see how much info was reallyleft out). The world being in an apocalypse… a little bit less exciting I guessthan the Junko reveal. And Naegi being proclaimed the Ultimate Hope was cheesy,but kind of expected and in that moment, it was empowering!

(Although it was hard not to say Sakura’s trial for thisquestion, simply because gosh I LOVE Sakura)

11. Which was your favorite trial from SDR2?

I flipflop between trials five and six, honestly XD I’llchoose the 5th Trial though for now! Trial 5 had my top threecharacters playing really important roles, and it made me appreciate Komaedaand Nanami. I was touched Nanami wasn’t really fighting the fact she wasblackened and there was a mystery to her and Komaeda that is unresolved, andeverything about the trial was a rollercoaster of emotions XD This is great forHinata’s character, as well, as he actually is able to understand Komaeda’splan. The trial breaks my heart in how cruel it was to all of the characters,Komaeda dying horrifically through a plan he made himself, and Nanami, a personso against the killing game, ended up killing someone unknowingly… and Hinatahad been so close to Nanami, and probably the closest person to Komaeda on theisland, that it’s hard not to feel bad for him, too, for his losses. Not to saythe others who died were less, just that they weren’t as close to him. And thenof ourse, the actual plan was chaoticgenius. That was a really wild ride of a trial!

12. Which was your favorite trial from V3?

The only one that really held my interest in a more positiveway was probably the fourth one! Because the rules of the virtual world meantthe creators didn’t have to defy actual laws of physics and, well, commonsense, it actually makes sense.Mostly. The one thing that I guess doesn’t is where Kokichi got the flashbacklight? Anything to do with Kokichi leads to plotholes in the story, I swear… Thatand Miu’s partnership with him is ??? Still, I found it to be an emotionaltrial because… it was really not Gonta’s fault even when it was… I really likedhim, he was really sweet.

But yeah, this trial is the only one that I’d say was a goodmurder case in V3, with the others kind of just working through chance? Pureluck? Idk, they were just so weird…

38. Which character doyou feel is too popular amongst the fans, in your opinion?

Ouma… and look, I really don’t hate him at all, but thereasons people say they like him don’tmatch up. “He’s a complex character!” No, he really isn’t… the creators of thegame explained next to nothing about him and his past. Any bit of complexity isprojected thoughts on his character. My prime example is when someone who knowsJapanese had said that Spike Chunsoft had gave a hint that Ouma hatesmurder/killing, which the translators of the game “removed,” when it waseventually proven by native Japanese speakers that there was no suchcomplicated connotation. So everyone to this day keeps spreading this rumoraround that Ouma hates murder/killing as if it was an integral part of his character.

And my honest thoughts on why people like Ouma is… becausehe likes guys and is dismissed by his classmates. He has a crush on Saihara,clearly, and might have had crushes on Rantarou and Momota. His continueddismissal by Saihara and the others serve as the base for people to project their story on Ouma, with them addingmeaning to him to make him out to be a more complex character. They willed him to be important. They ignoredthe plotholes he creates by having knowledge of things we don’t know why heknows, or having a flashback light from a room a keycard opened, which we nevergo to see where that was, or writing a complete script for Momota for the trialin the three hours he had left to live… This isn’t a complex character- this isthe creators of the game making a decision not to explain important details becausethey can get away with it, as he is a liar. The problem with a liar is that younever really know him at all. You canonly guess.

What I dislike about Ouma is the fact that people arepolicing that he is a complex character based on, well, not that much. He doesn’tgive that much, so they make up things to make him seem more complex than heis. The reasons to like him should be his personality, how silly he is, thefact that he’s a great actor… and it can be that you think you can relate tohim. But just in general, I just don’t like the hype around Ouma and peopleputting their noses up at others who have differentinterpretations of Ouma.

42.  How do you feel about the Danganronpafandom as a whole?

The Danganronpa fandom as a whole… it’s done me a lot ofgood, even with all the bad it’s done, too. Through this fandom, I came out ofmy shell. I’ve never been confident enough to write for a fandom and post it. Ihad, once, when I was in middle school, but with a fandom as large as Naruto,the work got drowned out and it wasn’t all that good, honestly, so I nevertried again XD I absolutely would never have created fanart for the fandom,either XD It was rough in the beginning, but I found my artstyle!

But most importantly of all, I’ve met some really incrediblepeople! It’s because of these friendships I’ve made that I got the courage todo more. I could write, I could draw, I could create pixel art, I couldanimate, I could run events and participate in them, I could become a part of azine, and I could mod a zine… All ofthese things I never would have had the courage to do alone. And even outsideof fandom, they would support me, validate my frustrations, congratulate me onmy victories, listen to me, laugh with me…

I met some important people who I’ll never forget. I havefriends who I hope will stick around for long past the fandom. And well, I foundsomeone I actually really love through this fandom as well ^^ (he runs eventswith me on the Hinaegi blog

I’ll admit, my active participationin the fandom is pretty weak these days with me getting sucked into playingPokemon in my free time instead… but Danganronpa’s left its mark. Even with allthe bad of fandom “discourse,” fandom drama, and some really rude people onsome rare occasions, it was worth it to have found the confidence and supportthat I did!

The fandom is far from dead, rude people may still exist,but at least at the moment, I’m pretty comfortable where I am in it with the otherpeople that have made my stay a welcome one!

[katzuyas]

what living feels like

written for @softviktorzine which I had the utmost pleasure of being included in, thank you so much to the mods and all the participants bc this zine was truly made to be Good and Wholesome 💕🙏💕🙏💕💕

read on ao3

There is nothing worse, Victor thinks as he shakes the already wheezing bottle of conditioner, than being empty.

The life you lead, the work you do, the time you spend simply... existing. Not living, because life is where you breathe and your heart beats inconsistently – sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes even when it stops; living is vibrant, like skating. Existing is... Victor looks at the empty bottle in his hand, an unhappy curl to his mouth. It's exhausting, he decides.

But what is even more exhausting is taking care of your hair properly when the world just seems to be out to run you dry. Huffing through the stream of water running down his face, he rinses what measly remains of product he has somehow managed to put in his hair and then turns off the water with a heavy sigh. Before the mirror, he waits for the surface to clear, and then assesses the damage.

"Well, that's great," he says to his own reflection, which looks just as jolly as he feels.

He doesn't bother blow-drying: it can't get any worse than it already is. He drapes a towel over his head instead, hiding the mess from view at least for a short while. He steps into the bedroom in a dire need of cuddles to finally start the day right, but the universe is once again dogging at his heels.

The bed is empty.

The covers are haphazardly bunched up in the middle and they look as sad and abandoned as Victor feels. To think that Yuuri, who loves sleeping in so much, would leave him all alone... save for a fluffy tail that peeks out from underneath the sheets.

Victor doesn't bother fighting his grin. At least one of his boys has not forsaken him in these trying times.

He jumps onto the bed, gathering the shape hiding there into his arms at the very same time as Makkachin starts squirming in surprise. Victor laughs quietly and lets him free his head. Makka's tongue is lolled out when they finally look each other in the eye and Victor's grin widens.

"Hello there, sleeping beauty," he croons, heart filled with years of affection that's still vibrant and unchangeable.

Makka's tail thumps on the mattress as if he's saying hello right back at him. The dog stretches, from the paws to the tip of his tail, and he's so long and shameless that he almost pushes Victor off the bed. Victor chuckles as he shifts to let Makka have more space, like he has always spoiled him before and will continue to, forever. They lie together for a moment in amicable silence, Victor's hand stroking the soft curls of Makka's belly that rises and falls with the power of his breaths.

The towel that's wrapped around Victor's head comes loose at some point and it unravels slowly, until it only hangs in place by the memory of its shape. It will fall off soon and Victor's curly hair will slip from their confines, but Victor resolutely decides to ignore it till that happens. He doesn't feel like dealing with it more than he already has, at least for now.

Instead of wallowing in self pity any longer Victor turns his face to nuzzle Makkachin behind the ears and ask if he wants breakfast yet, but his eyes catch on the glasses that still sit on the nightstand. Yuuri must have forgotten to put them on when he got up, but... his loss is Victor's gain.

He grins, placing the glasses atop Makkachin's head.

"Oh, Yuuri, how much you've changed!" Victor gasps in pretend shock. "You're all furry and cuddly! How did that happen, my love? You poor thing! Turned into a beast!"

Makkachin's jaws open and he pants his morning breath at Victor. Victor's nose wrinkles when the smell hits him, but then he laughs, because, really? They are both such silly geese. Even if one is a dog and another a human.

"Don't worry, my Yuuri," Victor assures, all serious. His lips twitch with the laughter he tries, and fails, to withhold. "I will still marry you, even if you're a furry monster... or if your breath smells like dog food."

At the mention of food Makka's ears stand up and Victor snorts. Of course, that would be the way to his first love's heart. He boops Makka's nose softly with a finger and chuckles to himself when Makka's whiskers twitch.

"Oh, I know!" Victor realizes suddenly. "We need a true love's kiss to turn you back! Don't we, my sweet little cupcake? Do we? Yes, we do!"

Makkachin tilts his head like he's confused, but Victor's voice makes him just as excited even if he understands nothing of what his ridiculous owner says. Victor takes his face in his hands and rubs his thumbs over fluffy cheeks, which makes Makka's eyes close in pleasure. The fluffy tail is moving, back and forth, back and forth, and Victor smiles, a small, private smile that's tender and loving, and all for his precious Makka. He kisses the smooth patch of fur right above Makka's nose and Makka licks at his chin as if he wants to return the affection.

Victor chuckles and scratches Makka's cheeks some more, humming the wedding march to himself on a whim. It's silly of him, he knows, but somehow the thought of the wedding, his and Yuuri's wedding, has crawled into his head and doesn't want to leave. Not that he wants it to.

He imagines Yuuri in a beautiful suit, fitted to his body like a glove, and matching with Victor's own. He imagines another set of rings, another set of vows, the sweet kiss at the end of the ceremony...

"What... are you doing?"

Victor's so deep in the land of daydreams that he doesn't notice the moment when Yuuri comes into the room. He doesn't notice him watching them with a fond smile, either. What he does notice, however, is the amusement crinkling Yuuri's eyes while he squints at Makka and then at Victor.

"Marrying the love of my life, of course," Victor answers, smiling wide – wider than before because now Yuuri is here. Finally.

"Ah," Yuuri says as if that has explained everything.

And it did, Victor realizes when Yuuri sits on the bed next to them. It does.

"Is that supposed to be me or Makka?" Yuuri asks, nodding at his glasses that still crown Makka's head.

Victor hums in thought, before he grins and says: "Both."

Yuuri laughs, a soft, gentle sound that warms Victor's heart and cheeks altogether. He looks back to Makkachin to distract himself from the beautiful sight that Yuuri makes as he glows with affection in the morning light.

"What do you say, Makka?" Victor asks, stroking one of Makkachin's ears. "Think you can share?"

There's a tail wag and a loving pant of smelly breath, and Makka stretches forward across the bed to lick at Victor's face. Victor giggles at the same time as Yuuri huffs a small laugh. Victor rolls onto his back to save himself from dog kisses, but he doesn't seem to realize that something even more devastating is waiting for him there – Yuuri, who lies himself next to them, takes Makka's place and leaves his own kisses all over Victor's face as if he's trying to kill him.

It's not a competition, Victor wants to tell them, but when Makka licks at the sensitive spot on his neck, which is the only place he can reach, and Yuuri continues to press his lips across Victor's grinning cheeks, all that Victor can do is give into helpless giggles. It's difficult to breathe after a while, but Yuuri's breathy laughter and Makka's cold nose play an irresistible harmony of joy and acceptance on Victor's skin and he just can't help it.

So he laughs, and laughs, and laughs, until he can't laugh anymore because his lungs are full and his heart is swollen: with happiness, with love, with warmth.

"Enough," Victor finally wheezes. He pushes weakly at Yuuri's shoulder, but it's a faux gesture – he never wants him to move if he can help it, but the necessity to breathe is a little stronger in the moment than the love that fills him to bursting. "Enough, please!"

Makkachin boofs and Yuuri laughs. He shifts back, but the warmth of his body lingers and seeps into Victor's limbs with ease. It's comforting, safe, and Victor relishes in it.

"Really?" Yuuri asks.

His eyes look into Victor's with unbridled fondness, but his lips curl up in a teasing smile all at the same time. It's an expression that Victor both loves and fears: loves, as he loves all the sides to his Yuuri and the affection he sees mirrored back at himself feels like everything he's suffered through has been worth it for just this one glance; and fears it, because it pushes his heart into unhealthy pace that makes his blood ring in his ears.

Just like it does now.

"Didn't you say just yesterday that you'd never have enough of kissing me?" Yuuri's eyebrow lifts, and Victor needs to forcibly stop himself from arching up to kiss it. "Or did I hear you wrong?"

"Yuuri," Victor whines.

He's rendered speechless beyond that, but that seems to be enough anyway. Yuuri chuckles at his predicament, the cruel man he is, and ducks his head into Victor's neck to hide his own rising blush, thus depriving Victor of his second most beloved sight: Yuuri's flushed cheeks. Instead of indulging him like Victor so wants him to, Yuuri presses his lips here and there on his neck, and it tickles, but Victor is more than happy to suffer through this touch of sweet, torturous pleasure.  

There is nothing worse than being empty, Victor thinks while his cheeks hurt from smiling and his face and neck are flushed beyond simple joy. But there is nothing better than this, he agrees with his heart, just as Yuuri shifts up to press another kiss onto Victor's cheek. And nose. And the space between his eyebrows.

Victor turns his head to catch Yuuri's lips and Yuuri smiles into the kiss.

This is it, Victor knows. His heart beats fast, but even, and he knows what he didn't know a year ago. He knows what he didn't know he didn't know. He knows, now.

This is what living feels like.