#because I think it reads better like that instead of split up into multiple chapters

[mariposiel]

My Red Son/Reader fic is probably going to go past 10K words, and there’s still a few, major scenes I have to incorporate AJSKDKD

[kafkaoftherubble]

人性的“光”辉

//The Case for "Hikaru's" Humanity

This essay was originally a reblog/response to this post by chronicoverthinker.

I find the complexity of "Hikaru's" expression of love fascinating and nuanced enough for multiple interpretations. Hence, I wanted to put my thoughts out here in a separate post... for my own Garden's archive, to be honest! Hahahaha!

Anyway, I respectfully disagree with that post. Here's why.

Against The Case To Not Judge "Hikaru" As Though He's a Human

What I'm getting at from the bulk of the argument is that "Hikaru" cannot genuinely be described as aroace—or somewhere in the spectrum—because he's fundamentally not human.

I wanna push back on this. I think OP is not giving "Hikaru" enough credit.

The examples OP cited are either from the beginning—when he was very much 90% eldritch and 10% "cosplaying as a human"—or when he's still trying to grasp the deeper layers of being human.

Take his attitude with Asako discovering his secret(s).

OP is right that, during the first incident, "Hikaru" acted like a monster would. But in the second incident, "Hikaru" actually acted differently.

There was a brief moment of tension here—as if there was a split-second clash in "Hikaru's" mind that we aren't privy to. This is related to what I wanna talk about later.

For now, though, this is what happens a little while later... after Asako expresses her grief for the dead Hikaru.

Here, "Hikaru" philosophizes what it means to be a living being who sees death as a totality.

And while he's doing that—

He reached out and wiped the tears off Asako's face.

Bear in mind that "Hikaru" had only shown his most unambiguous benevolence to Emoshiki for a long time, but here, he's showing similar care and benevolence to a friend. A non-Yoshiki human.

That's not all. He also expresses similarly subtle humanity in his interaction with that Medium Ajuma/Auntie (I forgot her name even though I liked her a lot ahahhaha). He values her advice and looks up to her for counsel, contrasting the first time he learned of her existence through Emoshiki's phone. The latter was when he was still mostly a monster; the former was as "Hikaru" steadily gained humanity.

I want to also point out that "Hikaru's" gains are parallel to Yoshiki's losses. Emoshiki is starting to be registered as "not entirely human/living". He is starting to feel the effects of torii gates acting as barriers, for example.

But if we're talking about the thematic confirmation of "Hikaru's" change in his personhood, I think there is an even better one in the manga.

---

The Emergent Dual nature of "Hikaru," Visualized

Above all else, I think nothing illustrates "Hikaru's" clash between humanity and monstrous nature than this panel shown here by my (very one-sided) bro, Mokumoku Ren:

The panel before it was this:

The left side of "Hikaru" shows his Eldritch nature. The tendrils that clue us of his monstrosity are leaking out.

The right side, however... shows a single human tear. The side where he was simply crying as an emotionally hurting human being.

Even the words on the second panel have subtle hints of that duality. Notice that the "monster side" has the word "Kill? Kill?!" While the human side has "it hurts""I have to do somethin'" and "apologize."

The two sides share words, for sure, but when I read it, my immediate understanding was that

the monstrous side is reacting, hence it comes out first. It's automated; the default state Eldritch-bro has been in for many years.

The human side is responding, hence the tears coming out later than the tendrils.

One is "Hikaru's" default, dominant nature. The other? His gained humanity and his budding capacity for self-reflection.

Later in this chapter, we actually see "Hikaru's" humanity—in an unambiguous telling—winning against his default-dominant nature: he chose to respond instead of react. He gave half of his monstrosity to Yoshiki so he could be more human than monster from that point onward.

-----

"I Love You, Yoshiki."

This is how it was played out in Chapter 1.

----

And this is how it plays out in Chapter 26.

In both instances, "Hikaru" makes allusions to how fun being human is for a monster like himself. However, his reasons in the first chapter were superficial ("I have friends! I ate ice cream!"). The second panel, meanwhile, was thoughtful and earned.

You even notice how the first panel's "Hikaru" insisted that he's as good as a real human, while the second—now wised up to what humanity really means—admitted to being a monster and a substitute in origin.

I think "Hikaru" has gained enough humanity to him at this point that, even his self-deprecative " [...] the monster's feelings" is more human than monstrous.

His previous emotions were never this deep; they were copies of OG Hikaru at best while he outwardly insists he's so-totally Hikaru. But here, despite admitting that he really is "just a monster pretending to be human," he displays the sort of realization only a monster who finally gained humanity is capable of discerning. He's experiencing the nuances of a human's thought process, even noting his own lack of understanding concerning love.

This is why I disagree. I think "Hikaru" has enough human-ness to be reasonably considered aroace, at least at this point.

"Hikaru's" inability to understand love, even in terms of familial love or platonic love, is similar to my own. Nonetheless, there are still two dear friends I care a lot about, in a manner similar to how "Hikaru" feels for Yoshiki.

In other words: the way I understand "Hikaru's" declaration of love—per my own subjective experience as an aroace—is that he is expressing "care."

This gets us to the next point I'd like to make.

------

"Hikaru's" Love for Yoshiki isn't Expressed in Hunger

You're right; "Hikaru" hungers for Yoshiki. The exploration and reading of that hunger deserves its own analysis, but briefly, I see it as a metaphor for addiction (or even the violence of mental illnesses?), which can be intertwined with feelings like love.

No matter what it could be read as, though, if "Hikaru's" love for Emoshiki is just hunger masquerading as love, then there is little sense why "Hikaru" would express his love by putting distance between himself and Emoshiki.

His psychological journey up to that point on the beach centered around one question,

"What is the best thing to do so Yoshiki doesn't get hurt (by my monstrous side)?"

In other words, "What is the best thing for me to do so the person I love doesn't get hurt by my addiction/episodes?"

"Hikaru's" love is expressed in his commitment to Emoshiki's well-being. It is how he recognizes the danger of his monstrous hunger. As we've discussed earlier in this post, "Hikaru" is grappling with the duality of his personhood.

I think he is experiencing both care (which is "Hikaru's" version of love, maybe?) and hunger when it comes to Yoshiki.

These two desires interplay with each other... but are also at odds with one another. "Hikaru," being the battleground for these two sides, knows this very well. He also knows what's fueling these two things simultaneously, and chooses to let his care for Yoshiki lead his decision.

I don't think "Hikaru's" love refers to his hunger at all. I think they exist simultaneously, and we're watching this man-of-a-monster make a choice. Despite his origin, he's struggling with the human condition between not letting go out of "love," and letting go out of that same "love."

-----

Conclusion

There is definitely an element of subjective reading here, but I think "Hikaru," at this moment, can be judged as human (and, while we're at it, aroace).

He's got enough humanness that he can be judged through the lens of humanity (though I also agree that one can also choose not to do so, ahahha!).

His inability to understand the sentimentalities of families and friends is not a strong argument for the case of "Hikaru" not being "human enough."

"Hikaru's" love does not equal his hunger. They are not the same sentiments, though they do intermingle and influence one another like all webs of emotions do.

This post may seem like it's about "Hikaru's" sexuality and romantic orientation, but the bigger point I want to argue about is actually "Hikaru's" humanity. I hope to present a different angle to what "Hikaru's" psychology might be about.

-----

I wanna end this with how Yoshiki reacts to "Hikaru's" decision.

The prominence of his wounded arm in the panel and the intensity of his rejection toward "Hikaru's" decision, to me, seems like a quiet echo to how "Hikaru" —90% Eldritch, 10% cosplaying as human—began at first.

The one who's expressing a clinging attachment... is now the human who's starting to gain little supernatural, monstrous elements to himself.

---

Thank you for reading my ramble!

[corduroyserpent]

Tag someone you want to know better

i was tagged by @kukuandkookie 🥰💕

Favorite color: light pink!

Last song: Partner in Crime by Madilyn Mei

Last movie: The Creator (i went in without having seen a trailer or anything and found it very enjoyable!)

Currently watching: uhhhh i just finished s2 of loki (😖) and i'm still watching various star wars shows (😖 and 🥰)

oh! i'm rewatching scumbag system too because i love it

Other stuff I've watched this year: oh gosh let me think 🤔

Stardust

The Dragon Prince S5

Centaurworld (twice!)

Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts

Black Friday and Nerdy Prudes Must Die (AS YOU ALL KNOW!! I'M BEING REALLY ANNOYING ABOUT IT 😂)

Various TGCF episodes, just for fun, it wasn't a full rewatch

Chainsaw Man

One Piece Live Action

Love Between Fairy and Devil

Till the End of the Moon

and more stuff but i really can't remember it all asdfghjkl

Shows I dropped this year/didn't finish: i haven't dropped any shows but there are ones i'm taking forever to finish watching. i've dropped a fair amount of books this year though

Currently reading:

Scum Villain (again. yes. when am i not?)

still working my way thru the original thrawn trilogy (BRING BACK MARA JADE YOU COWARDS!!!)

i started a reread of TGCF but then i accidentally reread all of MDZS instead...oops

i'll count One Piece as "currently reading" since i've been caught up for years and read the new chapters when they come out (anyone else cry over 1098 this morning?)

The Vampire Lestat

Currently working on:

the baby zzl fic (always always always)

bingqiu star wars au (it was supposed to be a one-shot but it's really gotten away from me, so i'm gonna have to split it into multiple parts!!)

a zhushen....nesting.......thing..........

a couple of wen ning/zhuzhi-lang fics

a follow-up to the six balls/zhuzhi-lang thing (nearly shared a wip of this last wednesday but then i got shy)

various hualian wips (these are on and off)

an outline for a mdzs multichapter fic that i'm thinking about writing

aaaaaand my novel (whaaat who said that....)

Current Obsession:

NERDY PRUDES MUST DIE!! YOU GUYS WANT TO WATCH IT SOOOO BADLY LOOK LOOK LOOK I'LL LINK IT OKAY I'LL PUT IT RIGHT HERE (i recommend watching the previous hatchetverse musicals – The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals and Black Friday – first to get the full experience, but you do you!)

also still obsessed with SVSSS obviously

and i got back into MDZS too so that's been fun!

Tagging: uhhh how about @squeeegs and @monroeknoxwrites and @goatpunch2 and anyone else who wants to do it! BUT LIKE NO PRESSURE <3

[not-poignant]

random genuine question. how do you write a book? I've written multiple fanfics successfully and want to be a full time author nothing too crazy but just enough to make a good living. But I'm finding myself stuck when it comes to executing my original ideas. I plan them out well but when it comes to the acts/chapters and actually writing I can't seem to pull the trigger. I understand it takes time and I may just be overthinking but still I'm worried I won't be able to execute.

Hi anon,

You are probably better off asking someone who writes books for a living, because I definitely don't, and when I did publish two novels, they have never done as well as my serials (and writing a serial is very different - for me at least - to writing a book). Like, they did moderately well, but I consider myself a professional serial writer and not a novelist, and those two things are 100% not the same thing. (Which is also maybe where you're struggling.

Writing fanfics successfully can often have zero bearing on whether you can (or want to) write a novel. Writing one is not writing the other! The processes are totally different, unless you were just writing novels and splitting them up into serial chapters and then, well, you wouldn't be here asking this question sdalkfjad)

There are some great novel-writing books out there, and many can be requested through libraries, and many of their authors have blogs or similar where they teach many of their techniques online. There are so many different ways of structuring a novel (and it can change depending on your genre, and I don't know what your genre is either!) I can't recommend any personally, because I don't read them, because I don't really write novels.

When it comes to actually sitting down and actually writing anything of length though, it's sometimes down to asking yourself a few things:

What feelings are happening in you that hold you back? Are you afraid it won't be good? (In which case there's no way but through, anon, you have to write some bad writing in order to get to the good writing, it's a mandatory part of the practice - a garden needs shit/manure in order to grow, lol).

Are you bored because you planned it all out? (In which case you may need to look into writing novels without plotting them first).

Are you more excited for future chapters instead of present chapters? (Write out of order! And make the present chapters shorter).

Are you more interested in fanfiction's regular feedback from readers? (In which case consider creating a reader group for your original writing, or finding a really good beta who can give you that feedback). (I can't get dopamine from writing novels, so I don't write them, I just find the process boring in a way that's pretty intolerable to me).

Is the novel too huge of a road into meeting your characters and setting/s in prose? (Consider writing small oneshots for your characters and world first. Consider writing side characters in the world in a 2-3k fic. Treat it like responding to a fanfiction challenge. It can often make access to the world a little easier).

Is something about the story actually broken? Do you need to go back to the drawing board re: the strengths of the characters?

Learn how to fall in love with your characters the way you've fallen in love with fanfic characters. If they're not strong enough to earn that 'love'/'obsession' - make them stronger. (Although, frankly, sometimes you can only learn that love by writing them. Think of it this way: When you start writing fanfiction, you've already invested hours of time into learning the characters and their depth. You need to invest at least the same amount into your own characters and their stories before you might stumble across that same love).

Outside of that you can apply any number of techniques to novel writing, but ultimately, a lot of it is sitting down and just writing (sometimes pretty terribly) and learning how to overcome writer's block and understanding why it's happening for you.

For me, I learned that the cons of writing novels just didn't outweigh the pros. The lack of dopamine feedback re: readers doesn't play well with my unmedicated ADHD brain, which means writing to no feedback at all tends to leave me extremely unmotivated. And fitting the novel formula re: story lengths ultimately just didn't work with me either, most of my long stories naturally hit or exceed the 250k mark, which is fine for serials, but not fine for most novels outside of epic fantasy or hard science fiction.

So I would also recommend sitting down and asking yourself what did fanfiction give you that made you able to write it? And what do you need novel writing to give you, to make you able to write it? Likewise, ask yourself - do you want to write original novels? Or original serials? There's a good market for both now, and novels =/= serials. Like, they are naturally written in different ways!

Do you think you would struggle to write an original serial the same way that you're struggling with novels? All of these things are important to ask yourself.

But ultimately, just... I hate to say it, but sometimes you have to force yourself through the struggle, and write stuff while groaning because you know it's bad, to get to the other side. It's like learning any new skill - and fanfiction writing does not naturally lend itself to writing novels with everyone! You are learning a brand new skill!! Just because I know how to draw with pencils doesn't mean I know how to paint with watercolours, and I may be even more intimidated to learn watercolours because I know now how long it took to get the hang of fanfiction. Sometimes you just have to actually sit yourself down and be like 'okay I have to get real good at being real bad at something for a little while, even if I hate it.'

Chances are it won't be as bad as you think anyway, and then even if it is, well that's a normal part of writing a novel. That's why the first draft is the first draft, and not the final product. :)

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

2022 Creator’s Self-Love Extravaganza

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2022. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love!

@thelionshymnal dug this one up and while they didn't tag me, I felt the tag in my heart. Therefore, I pulled out the original rules with a little under 24 hours before the calendar flips over to a new year, I think I am safe in saying that my word count for the year is complete.

I did not write a lot this year! Comparatively, at least.* A mere 25,682 words have gone to publish. But it's also been a very disruptive year in that I quit my job of 5+ years, got rid of ALL of my stuff that couldn't fit into a tiny car, drove seven days cross country to a New Better Shinier Job (while writing a final paper), rented a 10 x 10 room above a garage for several months where my cat was very kind by not murdering me, dropped everything to sit at my dad's deathbed, went right back to work the following Monday, finished yet another graduate degree, went on a trip to Maine with friends, moved AGAIN to a much larger much more private space, and uhhh... signed up for yet another degree program. Because I have a problem. Clearly. Oh and I also broke a bone for the first time in my life! It's in my foot! I haven't gone out to do ANYTHING other than get groceries for the last two weeks and it sucks!

2022 has been a lot! More good than bad and overall improvement of everything, but a lot! And I've wanted to write. I've thought a lot about it in the moments before falling asleep! But any progress is still progress and my body comes first these days because in this house we practice self-care.

That being said, what I have put out, I've been immensely proud of. So, in no particular order and without further ado...

On the Event of the Annual Lilias Recruit Hazing Final Exam (ans, gen)

I wrote third person limited! For the first time! It was weird but also a fun to write something where the audience only has the interactions and body language to read.

2. where mended hearts meet (obiyuki, 🍋)

While I haven't been writing proper most of the year, I have been obsessing over @onedivinemisfit's camboy!obi au. It's been my personal problem, like, ever since she first introduced the concept for it and I've been screaming about it every chance that I get. Part of me much much wants to write the whole thing, but also acknowledged that I did not have the time. But also also I knew I was not going to be productive about anything at ALL until I wrote at least a little smutty smut for it. I mean, two consenting adults who are very accommodating of one anothers kinks and traumas? Sign me the fuck up, let's do this.

3. Drabble-Drabble 2022 Challenge (multiple fandoms, multiple pairings, all ratings)

Perhaps because I haven't had a chance to really focus on my writing this year, I wanted to do something uncomplicated. I remember loving drabbles back in my livejournal days. Just being absolutely laid out by 100 words precisely. But I'd never tried it myself so I wanted to give it a shot! I asked and y'all sent in around 30 prompts and I answered 26! It was a blast, highly recommend to anyone out there that wants to try their hand at it.

4. Seven Nights, Night 7 (Hakuouki, Yamachi, 🍋)

I had a moment when I went to see the timestamps of the chapters I worked on this year and it was literally just Night 7 of Seven Nights. It's split into three chapters, but it's 14k words just leading up to the final night, I don't even know what to say, y'all. Yamazaki is just real shy and writing two virgins was a lot harder than I thought (and I already thought it was going to be difficult!). I do really love it, though, they're adorable.

5. Stone Soup (Spy x Family, Yor & Yuri)

I would be remiss if I didn't include the final posted fic of the year (and my first foray into the sxf fandom!). Not only did I write a child's pov, I got to incorporate some real mean food feels into it. All together a real good time! XD

Okay! I've done it! I've said the nice things about me! Now I shall tag people, hmmm... @spoonyglitteraunt @sabraeal @claudeng80 @onedivinemisfit @infinitelystrangemachinex and anyone else who wants a go!

*Word count by year since 2016:

2016- 97,273 2017- 167,645 2018- 138,769 2019- 130,429 2020- 126,435 2021- 91,014 2022- 25,682

[bonesandthebees]

So many thoughts on the latest chapter. I'm probably going to send multiple asks about it. I've been lurking for a while and sent my first ask a couple of days ago (the question about planning vs intuition). Has 🔥 anon been taken yet? If not then I'll be going by it

Onto the analysis! Splitting this up into different characters (or rather Wilbur's relation to them)

Techno: Technoblade definitely knows that he messed up last time and he wants to fix things. He's smart, and he and Phil are almost always on the same page. Through talking to Phil and Tommy, Techno has a pretty good idea of what happened.

Would I be right in saying that out of all of the characters, Technoblade has the most objective perspective? He's obviously going to be biased towards Tommy, because he is to Tommy what Phil is to Wilbur. But it's not that simple, because Techno tends to think more logically while Phil thinks more emotionally (which is shown later in the chapter). Basically, I think Techno makes mistakes, but he's ultimately thinking about things in a pretty holistic view. That's my theory anyway

That's why I think he's so chill about Wilbur not wanting to talk to Tommy. He probably understands why Wilbur's upset, or at the very least, he seems to respect Wilbur's autonomy. He's not trying to manipulate Wilbur towards some goal. He just wants to be well informed about what's going on

(if this reading of him is accurate, then I respect the hell out of Techno in this fic)

Anyway, this all culminates in that comparison with Eret, where Wilbur draws attention to how what Technoblade is doing is very different from what Eret would've done. That brings me back to autonomy and manipulation. Technoblade respects Wilbur. That's the important thing. He respects Wilbur, while somebody like Eret was always somewhat disingenuous. Although it sometimes may be the better move to do what Eret did, pulling Wilbur aside and nudging him to apologize, Technoblade instead values Will as a person and as an adult. He's not going to make Wilbur do anything

When Wilbur is in a better place, I think he's going to end up trusting Techno because of this one small interaction

That was so much longer than I thought it was going to be, so splitting this ask up into parts about different characters

(1/?)

ohohoho welcome to the named anons club flame anon! I really gotta make a list of you guys now so I don't get confused lmao. happy to have you here!!

yeah, you're not wrong in saying technoblade has one of the most objective perspectives in the fic. although he's close with tommy, he also recognizes the situation at hand and is able to take a step back to view the reality of the situation. the thing I want to emphasize is it's not that techno is not emotional. it's actually that he's a lot more emotionally intelligent than phil is. phil feels a whole lot of emotions, but he doesn't really know how to process them. techno is a lot better at managing his own emotions in comparison. and he's definitely seeing things in a more holistic way.

regarding the respect thing, that's actually not something I'm going to confirm or deny. it could be that he respects wilbur's autonomy, or maybe he just doesn't want to get involved. because keep in mind, it's technically beneficial for AE to have the brothers fighting, since wilbur is the one who has been pushing tommy to refuse to join this entire time. not saying that's techno's motivation, but it could be :)

I love leaving things up to reader interpretation lol

[rigelmejo]

Y'all I finished reading 盗墓笔记1 in chinese, what do I read next?! ToT (below are realistically what I feel up to tackling potentially, but I'll note alternatives for when I'm at that reading level ToT)

寒舍 by 夏灬安兰 (pingxie supernatural au, favored because I've read 2/3 of this before so I know I can read it extensively which is faster... though it's like 300k characters so faster is relative)

盗墓笔记2 (upside? It's like 40-50k so short, and I'll probably start picking at this as the alternative reading choice to go back and forth with something else. On the flip side, I just read the first book and would prefer learning some more varied vocab right now)

云村笔记 (yuncun village dmbj story, very slice of life iron triangle living in a village, upside its that slice of life adult vocab I lack and its fairly easy reading, downside its maybe also better as an alternative I switch to when tired of Main Reading material)

苍兰诀 (Love Between Fairy and Devil novel, upside I do think I can handle reading this alongside the audiobook which could be cool, and some xianxia vocab. However it is a bit more challenging since it's xianxia)

琉璃 (Love and Redemption novel. Upside is I was listening to this audiobook today, and like canglanjue I think I could just listen along to audiobook with this. Same challenges/benefits: I learn more xianxia vocabulary but it's more of a slog. It's longer than canglanjue which is Intimidating as I've only finished a 124k characters story so far, nothing longer.)

撒野 (upside: big potential increase in daily life vocab, I can also read this extensively making reading faster. Downside is it is a LONG novel and I'm not sure modern romance teen setting is something I can focus on consistently right now to actually make much progress... it's not one of my fave genres... also the chapters are like 4k characters a piece, quite long.)

镇魂 (upside? Could just read along with audiobook. Downside? It's quite long, like 撒野, and I'm a bit scared to tackle something much longer than 100k... I want to like... work my way up in novel size I can handle... I've finished 20 chapters of 镇魂 multiple times but attention burns out about that far in. Also i love this story so me not knowing every word perfectly may demotivate me, causing me not to finish Again, and ultimately the goal right now is just to read a LOT so... that would not be ideal).

SCI (I do like a good murder mystery, and this series meets several criteria: I can handle reading this author right now without much difficulty, it's in case format so I could read a section then stop for another novel and come back later - dmbj also has this benefit - and I could pick up some modern day and crime novel words, which woulsd benefit me trying to read 默读 and 破云 later. In addition, this author ErYa also has another novel in a different time period, which I'm considering for picking up some vocabulary in that setting. So anything by ErYa is up for potential reading).

成化十四年 (novel Sleuth of Ming Dynasty is based on. A candidate because surprisingly this is a bit easier for me to read than 天涯客 - and 天涯客 is one of the priest novels I can tackle extensive reading right now - and I am interested in reading the story. I could pick up setting vocabulary, some case vocabulary, and i imagine it's somewhat split by cases which may help with reading it in chunks... so yes any cases/arcs structure novels will be easier to read since I don't have to commit to reading a full novel in one go, but instead just one section at a time)

???

[theliterarygnat]

THE HUNGER OF THE GODS BY JOHN GWYNNE

2/5 stars | Major Spoilers Unfinished and unpolished

__________________________________

Even if I were to enjoy this book, I would not be able to rate it over 2 stars. There is much in here that shows The hunger of the Gods is unfit for publication as it is an unfinished product. A traditionally published book generally goes through several edits before is goes out to the public, and this has clearly either not received that treatment or the editors did not do their jobs well; whether that be because the publisher didn't let them or not is a different matter. However, my paperback edition published in 2023 contains hella many issues. Dialogue tags either disappear into the nether or appear out of nowhere, sometimes they are disconnect from the dialogue and in the wrong place, characters on multiple times are misnamed or have their names misspelled, there is inconsistent italicization, inconsistent hyphenation, inconsistent capitalization, and many sentences (much like this one) should have been split at least in half if not into threes. I cannot fault Gwynne for this as this type of polishing and finishing is the job of the editors, for them to either do or point out to him to get it fixed. From my understanding, Gwynne's daughter had died the year this book had been published. It seems to me that Orbit, the publishing house, has not given Gwynne the time to grieve and pushed for publication of what is essentially a partially-uncooked meal. It's generally solid, but the lack of these finishing touches adds up to a lackluster product. I cannot blame this on the author, so I will not; I am however looking askance at Orbit.

About the actual content of this novel! I have blogged my experiences with this book on this blog as I went through the chapters, where my most detailed thoughts and critiques of prose can be found. I get somewhat redundant there but also very specific about what isn't working and why.

The pacing is generally better than The Shadow of the Gods, though there is much build-up to a rather short climax. The main reason the pacing works better, despite this book being meatier, is that the characters tend to be in harmony regarding the energy and action-levels of their chapters, making the flow generally more consistent than in book one. Likewise the multi-POV structure feels more natural. My biggest gripe with TSOTG was that it should have been three books instead of one, or at least three short-stories that we read in full one after the other. The head-switching in The Shadow of the Gods felt pointless with how little the stories overlapped. There are multiple scenes in THOTG that we can see from two to three different POVs, which helps make the multi-POV quirk work much better. Some chapters feel less important than others, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense for some of them to be there.

However, there are problems with this book. Mainly, there are underutilized, underdeveloped, and unexplained elements that muddle the story. Raising gods from the dead is done twice, and neither of them amount to anything; not to mention that while the Battle-Grim have the wherewithal to raise Ulfrir from the dead, they somehow don't consider bringing Agnar back at all. That is despite him dying a bad death in book one. We also know from Varg and other sibling-Tainted that Tainted born of the same mother and father have a mental link going on, which lets them know if their siblings are alive, hurt or well, or dead. Glornir, despite being Thorkel's brother, apparently didn't know he was alive, AND didn't realize he died only weeks/months prior?

The characters do not grow significantly (besides maybe Varg and Biórr) and some of them get worse if not stagnant. I will not speak at length about the characters as I have done that enough on this blog and all my issues with them. However, to be short and concise:

Orka is the same the whole two books; stone-hearted, hellbent on getting her son back and willing to do anything it takes to get to him. This isn't really bad when it comes to Orka specifically, but it does get hard to care sometimes. She gets more supporting characters this book, which helps keep her chapters exciting, though there is… not enough drama/emotion there for my liking.

Varg is getting better at fighting and smarter with how he speaks with people (mostly if not only with Sulich) but there are some things that Gwynne does with his character that just do not land with me. He's still the character I enjoy the most because I like the archetype of his character, but there is not much focus on his personal quest, which sucks.

Elvar is much of the same and worse, not just a mercenary slaver but also a slave-owner who will not hesitate to beat her slaves if they cross her. I don't really like how the book kind of gives her everything she wants and didn't care for before she got it; it's handed to her on a silver platter when her character is one of the shallowest of them all. She gets more depth added here, her backstory becoming more prominent, but that only makes her worse. There was no hint of any of that in the first book when that should have come out the second her father started trying to manipulate her in Snakavik. It feels tacked on to make her more interesting. It also retroactively makes the chapter of her trying to decide between the Battle-Grim and her father in TSOTG worse and more stupid, and I already hated the fact we needed to devote a whole chapter to it only for Elvar to have to be told by someone else to not be an idiot. I rant about her a lot during my "live-reading" summaries because there is just so much that does not work for me with this character.

Guðvarr surprisingly tolerable but also the most aggravating of them all. Gwynne kept on trying to make him more pathetic by mentioning him potentially pissing/shitting himself almost every single chapter, which got boring quick, and didn't really have the desire effect. I just started rolling my eyes. He also seemed a little inconsistent, both extremely self-aware at times and bordering on self-hatred only then to genuinely self-aggrandize with no capacity for introspection whatsoever. It's not necessarily unrealistic but I wish Guðvarr's character was more straightened out because while I hated him as a person, he had the potential to be an intriguing character.

Biórr had potential that got squandered in his first chapter. He was not the character I wanted nor expected, and honestly he is worse for it. I had high hopes about him being a strong-willed anti-slavery warrior who'd be among the first to question Lik-Rifa, enough to maybe break ranks, but not really; he's whiny, constantly talking about Elvar and Agnar (made all the worse by my dislike of these characters) and he doesn't have much solid substance to him. Not offensively bad, but he was not someone I really cared about.

Lik-Rifa also lacked gravitas or charisma on the page, being rather two-dimensional and very transparent to the reader. There isn't much to say about the plot. Nothing impactful truly happens until the very end, making it a very, very slow build-up filled with blips of excitement. This story overall is not one I particularly enjoy or care about, but that I will be seeing through when the last book comes out. This is less because I'm genuinely invested and more because the Bloodsworn Saga has been frustrating for me, and I want to know what all of this was for. My hopes especially are that Elvar gets what she deserves (which is: nothing fucking good. she needs a serious humbling), and I want to follow Varg around some more. I also hope that Snakka will actually have some actual presence in that book, because while Ulfrir is on the cover of this one, he does fuckall.

[queen-of-the-night-lights]

Different ( The Bad Batch x OC)

A/N: So after much internal debate I decided I am going to post the first chapter of my OC Bad Batch fic. This is just to test the waters to see if anyone is interested. The story takes place before season 7 of Clone Wars so I apologize to Echo fans. This is also a small self insert OC because I am lonely and love clones.

Warnings: Mentions of prison, crime, and canon typical violence.

Summary: After being caught by the Republic for attempting to steal from various senators Tessa is given a unique prison sentence. This leads to her being forced into various rotations throughout the GAR, but due to her personality not many of the clones like her. Now she has one last chance to prove she’s not difficult to work with, but the squad she is assigned to isn’t what she expected.

Life has so many twist and turns, and for some it happens so often that it feels normal that couldn’t be more true for Tessa. She had an interesting life to say the least. Fleeing her home planet after a political take over, having to split up from her family, bounty hunting, and getting arrested by the republic. That last one would change her life forever. It was supposed to be an easy job, steal a few trinkets from a list of senators and sell them back to people they have wronged. She got greedy though when she noticed one of the senators personal computers had been left out. The codes were rather easy to crack and a quick download later she had the entire drive copied on to a disk.

As she finished an alarm was set off that sensitive materials were downloaded by an unknown source, usually Tessa knew how to override such controls but this code was different and there was no time to mess with it. She ran and got pretty far and made it to her ship. As she was leaving the atmosphere a ship caught her in a tractor beam. Making the decision not to go out by trying to escape she surrendered. Something happened at her trial that she never expected, they offered her a job instead of prison time. According to the senate and Jedi’s present, they were impressed that she had gone undetected for hours and after reading her records had only been caught or even noticed now. The job was to rotate between battalions and fly them for any stealth or special operations.

At first it was weird for both Tessa and the troopers, then as time went most clones were annoyed that she was going with them. She had quite a unique personality and can go from sweet to rude in less than a second. It didn’t help that a lot of troopers just treated her like a criminal, she was but hey at least she was helping and always did her job. One day while assembling her gear back together Commander Cody came in with her new rotation and briefing. “ Hey, Commander what do you have for me this time?” She asked . Shaking his head he handed her the data pad and explained. “ You will be gone on your usual 6 missions with this group-“ “ Who are these troopers?” She interrupted. “ I’ve never worked with them before. '' He sighed, looking at the girl and rubbing his temple slightly. “ No you haven't. I was ordered to add them to your rotation due to multiple complaints about your more recent missions.” She rolled her eyes as she continued to read “ I’m not that bad.”

Cody then started to go into his Commander voice which he knew would get her to listen to him. “ You have not followed orders for the past seven rotations and have made reckless decisions threatening the mission and some of the men.” Looking him directly in the eye she responded “ Commander, with all due respect through that so called reckless ness we didn’t loose as many men as we would have. Sure more were injured, but I’m tired of everyone here acting as though having more men die than just hurt is better. I do what I think is right, even if no one agrees. I get the job done so why should it matter!” The whole “ do what your told” mentality of the GAR always bothered Tessa. It’s why she became a bounty hunter, usually the client didn’t care how your job was done so long as it was done.

Sighing Cody then explained “ You can’t keep doing this. It is rare that we have civilians help in the field as much as you do. You know that the conditions of your arrest and your time can change very quickly and if you can’t change or at least get a higher standing review from a commanding officer they will send you to prison. Do you understand?” The girl averted her gaze and looked at the floor. She knew he was right, and it wasn’t that you had no good reviews, a few divisions liked her. Or at least she thought so. The 501st, 212th, and the 114th seemed to like her okay.

However the Jedi generals of those groups tended to be more understanding of her situation and of how being able to critically think was a good skill to have in the war. The clone commanders of those groups did try to help her, that’s why Cody, Rex, and Wolffe were more than willing to make sure to send her to the proper type of missions during her rotations so that she couldn’t cause too much trouble. “ Yes sir, I understand.” Placing a hand on her shoulder Cody complimented “ Your a good person Tess, but the courts only look at your reviews and data.” Taking a breath you told him “ I know.”

“ Promise me this time around that you are actually going to try with this group. Do what you do best, analyze their needs and what they need from you and do it. Don’t let this be your final group and rotation.” Cody asked patting your shoulder to leave you. Noticing a few fields in the paperwork not filled out you called after Cody “ Commander Cody, there are a few blank spots on here. Some of which are important like what ship I’m taking, what do you want me to do with them?” Turing back he smirked “ Maybe you should go and see them about it. Try to make a good impression before you officially meet tomorrow. “

Shaking her head Tessa let out a frustrated sigh. This was just great, the one squad she knew absolutely nothing about was the one she had to go make a fool of herself in front of. It’s not that she was bad at coming off as professional, she just got flustered easily in “social situations”. She didn’t really have to talk to anyone before and she didn’t like talking to most troopers anyway since they were the only people she was really allowed to talk to. Plus judging by the information given to her, this group wasn’t like regular clones so who knows how they would react. Heading out she made sure she had everything and at least looked clean to meet these people. As she got closer to their door she noticed a weird smell coming from the room. Tessa has gotten used to most smells, sweat, dirt, blood, etc., they never really bothered her. But this smelt like that ten fold.

She knocked on the door and did not expect to be greeted by a tall, lanky, and gray haired man. He didn’t say anything, just stared at you not recognizing who you were. Taking a small breath she started “ Hello, I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but I need whoever is in charge of the group to fill out the blank spots on my paperwork. If I’m to be working-“ quickly the man cut her off turning around calling “ Hunter, its for you.” Tessa just gritted her teeth as she continued to have a polite smile on. Mumbling an “ Okay.” that was barely audible as someone who shared a few more traits with the clones she was used to came to the door. “ Can I help you?” He asked his tone leaning more towards confusion than towards polite.

“ Yes, I’m sorry. As I told one of the others of your group. I need you to finish filling out the blank spaces on this paper work if we are to be working together. Trust me I don’t like filling these things out either, but it needs to be done so that it’s official.” She presented the pad to him that had the pages already pulled up for him. As she continued to explain “ After today I think it can be whoever can fill the information at the time is allowed to provide information, due to how small the team is, but for the start and end of this rotation I need the highest ranked of the team to fill out this information. It’s just a lot of formalities.”

“I’m sorry but who are you?” He asked genuinely. Most of the battalions and divisions were rude when asking this when she first met them. As time had gone on the different groups had heard of her, so when asking this sometimes it was out of disgust or annoyance. He was different, Tessa could tell he actually didn’t know who she was. “ Oh, you were supposed to get a transmission. Anyway, I’m sorry, I’m Tessa Rodamantez. I am going to be your Pilot and Accompaniment for your next few missions.” He glanced down at the data pad and back at you “ Your a what?” Quickly you replied “ I don’t know, they never gave me an official title so I just introduce myself as anything along the lines of “ a pilot that can do other things”. It’s better than calling me “ a prisoner with a job.”” He smirked a little at that, which made you feel better. In her life she felt like to at least make a good impression you have to get someone to laugh.

“ I’m not sure you have the right unit. We don’t work well with others.” He started to hand you the data pad back when you stopped him asking “ Your Clone Force 99 right?” He was a little taken back by the question. You knew who they were, or at least you knew their name. He slowly answered “ Yeah.” Smiling Tessa responded “ Then your the right unit.” This girl was bold, not like how most would talk to them on Kamino or anywhere else. She seemed nice enough it was just weird meeting someone who was a civie instead of a reg or a Jedi.

Tessa continued “ Well, I will see you guys tomorrow for a more formal introduction and explanation of what we are going to be doing together.” She turned to leave when she remembered “ Oh and it was nice meeting you Hunter.” She still had to be polite and she did promise Cody she was actually going to try to behave with this group. “ Wait, you know my name?” Hunter called after her, she pivoted around and replied “ Yes, well I mean I heard the other guy ask for you when I first arrived so I just assumed.” And with that she left not wanting to feel nervous anymore especially before the briefing tomorrow. That’s usually when Tessa would determine the type of person she would be working under and how to best approach things.

After closing the door and walking back towards the beds Wrecker asked “ Who was that?” As Hunter made his way to his section of the room he replied “ Some girl.” Interrupting Wrecker said “ A girl? That’s weird, what she want?” With a sigh Hunter said “ I guess we are working with her for the next few missions. Someone was supposed to send us a transmission about her.” “ They did.” Tech chimed in as he sat repairing some of their recently broken gear.

They all sat there wide eyed at their brother and stared. When he noticed he commented “ What? I thought we all read it.” Shaking his head Hunter “ No Tech, we did not read it. Why didn’t you tell us about something this important?” Tech shrugged and continued working on repaired “ Like I said , I thought we all read it. They sent it to all of us. I’m not sure if whoever sent it wasn't familiar with our group or if they thought all of us should know.” Rubbing the back of his neck Hunter instructed “ Alright Tech, since you're the only one who read it summarize for us. Who is she?”

“ Well like she told you, her name is Tessa Rodamantez and she is a prisoner of the Republic. Arrested for breaking and entering the senate building on Coruscant, as well as the theft of multiple items from various senators. Most notably many top secret files from Senator Orn Free Taa. She claims she didn’t know what was on them, nor was she asked to get them. All she knew was that his computer was on and that it seemed “ fun” to hack into someone’s personal device who was that high up in the senate.”

Wrecker laughed at that before Tech continued “According to these records she was one of the best, which is why she got an obscure sentence. She was very successful at what she did and never got caught, that is until her attempt at the senate. For the past 2 years she has been a pilot for small missions or as an extra pilot for multiple larger ones. She is also used for a long list of tasks that coincide with special operatives, stealth, and a lot of areas we usually cover.”

Crosshair interrupted him asking “ So why do they claim we need her?” “ They don’t.” Tech replied “ She has these six mission rotations before she is transferred to another division.” “ So why are we just now hearing about her?” Hunter asked as he glanced down at the pad filling out the blank spaces. “ Perhaps it is because of her mission reports and reviews. She is not great at following orders and many have stated that she is hard to work with, has an attitude, makes risky judgment calls, talks back to her teammates, has been described as a danger-“ Hunter stopped him knowing that his brother was going to list everything ever described about the girl. “ Okay, I think we got it.”

Tech nodded, wiping up his work station as he put finishing touches on their gear. “ So what you're saying is that she’s a problem that they keep dumping on people until they can figure out what to do with her?” Crosshair speculated as he propped himself on his elbow on his bed. Not entirely enthused about the whole situation of a new person being forced upon them. “ I don’t see anything wrong with her.” Wrecker commented to which Hunter calmly explained “ She’s a criminal Wrecker.” Remembering the first part of Techs spill a “ Right.” Was all Wrecker could respond with.

“ That is why there has been many debates of whether or not she should still be able to work with the GAR. If she can’t work with others then they’ll send her to prison.” Tech explained. “ Well we will just have to stick it out like everyone else.” Hunter said definitely. “ Goodie.” Crosshair said sarcastically, laying back down to try to get some sort of rest before tomorrow. “ Well, I think she sounds cool. We don’t follow orders well either!” Wrecker said as he moved Lula’s arms up and down mindlessly. “ Precisely why I don’t think we would have too much trouble.” Tech agreed, finishing up his work and heading to his bed.

Hunter just sat there reading the paper work she handed him. This was a long document describing different rules and what or what not the Republic is responsible for with this girl. It’s not that they hadn’t worked with other people before, they have helped with backup and a few missions here and there, but this was different. Having someone who will be staying with them for a while twenty four hours a day is going to be really difficult. Tessa is in for a rude awakening with this group. From what it sounds like they have similar personalities which only means that they might clash which is going to be a problem. He hoped this girl isn’t more trouble than she’s worth.

[illfoandillfie]

A Different Kind of Education: I Is For Impact Play (Chapter 8)

ADKoE MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Series Summery:  After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Chapter Summery:   A new week and a new lesson, but also a new challenge. How can you possibly find the courage to talk to your professor about your period?

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, dom/sub dynamics, dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, dialogue heavy, conversations about and mentions of menstrual cycles/periods, discussions of impact play including: spanking, kicking, slapping, punching, floggers, paddles, crops, whips, and canes

Words: 10,391

A/N: Better late than never, right? Big apologies for taking so long to get this one up! Once again I've had to split a single topic into multiple chapters lmao. This one is mostly the theory part of the lesson and a bit of an info dump, but the next part will focus more on the actual smut.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini 

@80s-roger @libsterslobsters @okilover02 @cjand10 @dealorgirl32 @youngpastafanmug @onceuponadetectivedemigod​

You knew it was something you’d have to deal with eventually, that having your period would affect your lessons with Roger. But still you felt reluctant to broach the topic with him. It wasn’t something you generally discussed with people, especially not your professor (even if you were regularly sleeping with him). And you could already hear the lecture he’d give you about why you shouldn’t be embarrassed to tell your sexual partner about your cycle, and about how he’d taught reproduction enough to not be phased by it. The problem was you weren’t really sure how you felt about having sex during it and you knew even less about whether Roger would want to. You were definitely going to have to talk to him about it, no matter how much you didn’t want to. So, wondering when the best time to bring it up would be, you checked the curriculum he’d written for you. Impact play. That was the topic for the week. Roger might consider you clueless about kink (as you’d learnt during the previous week’s munch), but you at least knew enough to know that impact play meant spanking. For a moment you were distracted from your worries about the conversation you were going to have, rather excited by what you’d just read. Spanking was one of those things you’d been expecting to try. When you thought about BDSM, spanking was the second thing to come to mind after bondage. It was one of those things Dylan had hinted at being into. A couple of times during sex he’d given your arse a slap and, though you’d never really asked for it you also hadn’t told him to stop. He never hit too hard and it added a bit of excitement so there was no harm in it. And you suspected he might be interested in pushing it further if you ever suggested as much. So, to know that Roger was going to run you through the basics of it and show you how it felt, you couldn’t help but be a bit excited. And maybe you’d be able to keep things over the clothes to start and you wouldn’t have to tell Roger about your period after all. The good thing with having an implant was that it reduced the duration of your period. It would have been nice if it stopped it entirely but at least it shortened it and made it a little lighter. So maybe you could organise a second session later in the week for the more hands on part of the lesson, and not have to explain at all. You left your apartment feeling happier and excited to see Roger that night. But you didn’t have to wait so long to see him.  

You’d barely taken two steps inside when a familiar voice called out Ms Y/L/N and you found Roger walking towards you, his hand raised in a lazy wave.  “Hi Professor,” you smiled, surprised but happy to see him, “I’m just on my way to class, what’s up?”  “Oh, in that case,” he glanced over to a group of students ambling past you, “do you have time for a meeting before you leave this afternoon?”  Your heart rate sped up at the serious way he looked at you over his glasses, “Umm sure.”  “Good. I’ll see you this afternoon then. Don’t forget.”  You nodded but a new worry had taken over your mind. There was only one reason he could want to talk to you. Your degree. If it was anything to do with his tutoring sessions then he would have just said it when you got to his place that evening. No, it must be to do with your class work. Maybe something had been wrong with your last exam? Possibilities were turning over in your mind as you resumed your path to your first class, each worse than the other. Maybe you’d misunderstood a question and gotten it completely wrong. Maybe he’d had to fail you. Maybe your overall grade had dropped. Maybe he was going to call the whole tutoring thing off because you’d gotten too distracted and done so badly on your recent assessment. You spent the entire day trying not to get too worked up about it, trying to tell yourself that if your work had slipped even a little he would have called to talk about it earlier, that if it really was as bad as failing his subject you’d have discussed it long before now. By the time your last class of the day ended you were somewhere between terrified about what Roger was going to say and relieved that you were about to find out.  

Your hand was shaking as you knocked on Roger’s office door and pushed it open at his word.   “AH, Ms Y/L/N, shut the door please and take a seat.” he said, shifting a stack of papers to the side of his desk. It was only once you were sitting that he seemed to look at you properly, “Are you alright? You look a bit pale.”  “Professor I’m so sorry, I swear if something was wrong with my last exam then it wasn’t because of our lessons and I promise I’m not letting them distract me at all. I put so much time and effort into studying and if-”  “Woah, woah, hang on. No one said anything was wrong.”  Your breath caught in your throat and it seemed to take you twice as long as it normally would for you to understand what he’d said, “There’s not? Then....why am I here?”  “It’s about tonight’s tutoring session.”  “Oh?”  “I wondered if you’d be okay making a small change to the plan.”  “S-so nothing's wrong with my work?”  Roger shook his head, “Your work is impeccable Ms Y/L/N. Sorry, I didn’t realise you’d assume the worst. I had no intention of worrying you like that. I was intending to mention it this morning but you seemed to be in a bit of a rush and I didn’t want anyone to overhear so...” he gestured vaguely towards you with his hands.   You let out a relieved chuckle, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders, “What was the change you wanted to make?”  “Do you know what we’ll be focusing on this week?”  “Impact play, Professor.”  “Very good. And do you know what that entails?”  “It’s like spanking isn’t it?”  “Spanking is definitely part of it, yes.”  “Cool. But you’re not wanting to switch topic are you? Only I’ve been kind of looking forward to this one since it’s like proper BDSM stuff....or like, not that other things aren’t I just mean that spanking is part of what I initially imagined, y’know?”  Roger held up his hand to quiet you, “I understand what you mean Ms Y/L/N. And it’s not that I want to change the topic, I just wanted to change where the lesson would take place.”  “Okay...” you were a little surprised by that. Where else could he have in mind when your lessons were supposed to be secret.  “I thought we might have the first lesson here.”  “Here?!”  “Keep your voice down, Ms Y/L/N. Not here exactly, not this office. In the first-year bio room actually.”  “Why? Isn’t that kind of risky? What if someone saw?”  Roger shrugged one shoulder, “It might be, but I think what I intend to show you could be covered as a biological experiment. Let me explain,” he said upon seeing your confused face, “So, as you no doubt remember, first years do a lot of dissection of various animals, working their way up to human.”  You nodded, remembering hours spent bent over various carcases and cadavers.  “Well, I thought it might be beneficial to show you some of the impact play tools we can use, demonstrating how they work and what effects they can have, but I don’t want to demonstrate them on you straight away. Luckily, it just so happens that one of the animals my first years are studying right now is pigs, so I thought we might use a pig carcass instead. Pig and human flesh are quite similar so you should get a decent sense of how being spanked with various tools will look and the impact they would have on your skin. We can compare being spanked by hand to flogging to a crop and so on. All without experiencing any pain at all. Of course, it is a dead pig so it won’t be exactly the same and you probably won’t see the same levels of bruising you would on a living human being, but it’s a good starting point. Plus this way you could try wielding the tools too, so you can get a sense for how they feel to use them and how much force is required to make them work.”  You were taken aback by the explanation and had to stop your jaw from falling open as you listened. But Roger waited patiently for you to think it over and you quickly concluded it was a good plan. You could easily write it off as related to your dissertation if anyone saw and asked what was going on. It wasn’t at all related but Roger was about the only person who knew what topic you were researching so no one else would pick up the lie.   “Okay then, let’s have the lesson here.”  “Excellent. You really don’t mind hanging back?”  “Not at all.”  “Good. I think we should possibly wait until a little later before we start, just to let the place clear out a bit. Perhaps we could get some dinner and eat it in here before we head down to the room. You can tell me how you’re getting on with your dissertation.”  “Okay, I like that idea.”  “Shall I duck out and get us some food then? What would you like?” 

After what could only be described as a minor argument about the merits of Mexican food, you and Roger eventually settled on a nearby Greek place. He tapped the order into Uber Eats and then went to wait for the delivery out on the street so the driver wouldn’t have to find their way through the numerous carparks and laneways on campus. You ducked out to your own car to drop off your bag full of books, though you kept your laptop to make notes on. It would also make your story seem more legitimate if anyone did stumble onto the lesson and ask what was going on. The thought of the lesson made you smile. Partly because you were keen to learn about the topic but also partly because you knew there was no way sex would be part of it. Roger would definitely draw the line at fucking his student in his classroom where anyone could catch you. And if you were going to be spanking a dead pig then you wouldn’t be asked to remove clothes or anything like that. So you wouldn’t have to discuss your menstrual cycle with Roger at all. You’d just say you were busy until later in the week when your period stopped and organise the follow-up lesson then and Roger wouldn’t be any the wiser. It was perfect. That, in addition to knowing nothing was wrong with your actual schoolwork, put you in a very good mood and you could have whistled with joy as you made your way back to Roger’s office.  

By the time you’d finished eating, the sky outside the window had changed from a mix of warm pinks and yellows as the sun set and was gradually darkening the longer you watched. It was only when Roger glanced at his watch and saw that it was a quarter to seven that he decided the building would be empty enough for your lesson to start. He grabbed his own laptop as you grabbed yours and then led you along the corridor and down a set of stairs, taking you towards the back of the building where the hands-on biology lessons were held.   Roger made sure the door was shut and locked before dumping his belongings onto a desk. “Can you give me a hand?” he asked, before moving to the door to a walk-in freezer at the back of the room.  Together you hoisted a large pig carcass onto a cart and wheeled it out into the main room.   Roger then ducked back into the freezer returning, after a little rummaging, with what looked to be a child’s toy crate. It was made of yellow plastic and seemed light enough that Roger had no trouble hoisting it onto one of the desks, but it was not full of children’s toys. You couldn’t see everything immediately but poking out of the top was a long black handle with a leather flap hanging off the end.   “Is that what we’ll be using then?” You were eyeing the box warily.  “Yup,” Roger began pulling the items from the box one by one, laying them out on the desk, “I brought the box in earlier and hid it down here so no one would stumble onto it. I didn’t want any awkward questions. Or to have any of them stolen since they’re mine,” he added with a chuckle.  You looked over the collection with interest, some of the objects familiar to you and some only vaguely recognisable, “Is that a hair brush?”  “It is,” Roger winked playfully, “Kink can be very D.I.Y and the back of a hairbrush makes for a good makeshift paddle. The front of the hairbrush can be fun too actually. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m going to go through everything individually, explain what they are and what sort of effect they have and I’ll demonstrate them on our piggy participant. There’s also a few things I don’t have which we can run through at the end, sound good?”  “Sounds great.” You sank into one of the nearby seats, pulling your laptop towards you, ready to take notes.   “Right well. Impact play is a BDSM practice where one partner strikes another for sexual gratification. As you rightly said earlier this includes spanking but there's a little more to it than just that. You can slap your partner, punch them, kick them, whip them or flog them. There’re numerous ways to play with impact and as with all BDSM it’s important to negotiate what you want before you start. Being struck can leave marks of course. Brusies, welts, scratches, right through to cuts that draw blood. For some people, the marking aspect is an important part of their enjoyment, and they might go so far as to intentionally make the marks more apparent. But whether or not you want visible marks might be influenced by your job or the season or your social life or any number of other things. Personally, the marks are secondary to why I enjoy the forms of impact play I partake in. But my feelings aside, the nature of our lessons and the secrecy required, means I won’t intentionally be marking you anywhere that isn’t easy to cover up. If you even want to try it out. You might see everything today and decide it’s not for you and that would be okay.”  “I don’t think there’s much danger of that Roger. Dylan’s spanked me a little before and I’m interested enough to try more.”  “In that case then, you should know that physical pain is part of impact play no matter what aspect you try. And it can bring up more mental pain too, depending on the individual. Which is why I want to start with testing some implements on this pig. We can go through a few things and you’ll get a sense of them and then we can talk about what you might actually want to try or if any of it seems wrong for you. I’m also going to be much more diligent with your safe word in these lessons than any before. So what is your safe word?”  “Pizazz, Roger,”  “Good. Remember you can use it whenever you need to, even today. If things get too much for you I want to know.”  “I know. I promise I’ll use it.” You were struck by how serious Roger’s tone was but understood it, after the conversation you’d had during your previous lesson. And, for the first time, you wondered if this would be a topic Roger would find hard to teach.  “Thank you. I’ll check in with you every so often, especially when we move onto the practical lesson and you’re experiencing it firsthand. So, if I ask you what your safe word is, I need you to respond as loudly and as quickly as you can. It’s a way for me to gauge how well you’re coping and to make sure you’re still capable of using it.”  “That makes sense.”  Having assured himself of your understanding, Roger took a deep breath and smiled again, “Well, I have a range of different implements you can use here today but we’ll start with the most basic,” he held his two hands in front of him, palms towards you, fingers wiggling, “Hands.”  You smiled at his showmanship but your gaze lingered on the offered view. His hands had always seemed quite lovely, even when he was just teaching you biology. The way they moved so delicately as he demonstrated necessary scientific processes for the class, or rapidly twirled pens around his fingers to impress new students. Of course, you’d felt them too since you’re first private lesson, the way he caressed you and held you. His fist tightening in your hair and his fingers plunging into you and making you moan and the way he’d gently stroke your skin as you were both regaining your breath. You were excited to feel the power in them as he spanked you.   “Spanking is entry level impact play. Everyone and their mother has heard of it. It’s a common thing to see in pornography and even in Hollywood movies when they want to show sex as kinky. And because you don’t need more than your hands it’s easy to experiment with. Do you want to see what it looks like?”  You nodded and Roger stepped closer to the pig, angling himself so you could see.   Suddenly there was the sound of a clap as Roger’s palm hit the pig’s flesh.   “See how my hand was open and my palm was flat?” Roger demonstrated again but slower so the hit barely made a sound, “But what if I do this?” He hit the pig again but changed the position of his hand. The sound of his hand colliding with the pig was deeper the second time around, “If you cup your hand, curve it slightly, you can change the way the spank feels and sounds. Just like clapping.”  You experimentally clapped your hands together, first with open palms and then with each hand cupped so that the fingers wrapped around the back of the other.  “Now you give the pig a try.”  Feeling a surge of nervously excited butterflies, you got out of your seat and took your place at the pig. With a breath and a swallow you quickly brought your hand down. The slapping sound seemed to echo in the quiet room but it wasn’t as crisp as the noise Roger’s hits had made. With a look to Roger for permission, you tried it again, creating a slightly more impressive sound.  “Good, now cupped?”  You did it again, curving your fingers in a bit and bringing it down again. It felt more awkward than the open palm hit had so you repositioned yourself to hit the pig from a slightly different angle and tried once more.  “Don’t be afraid to pull your arm back further. The more your rear back, the more force will be in the spank. Like this,” he pulled his hand back past his ear and swung down hard, the spank echoing around you. “Of course, you can also spank from a nearer point too. Spanking, and a lot of impact play, is best if you mix it up a bit, don’t stay in one rhythm too long, do some spanks with your fingers spread, or change how hard or fast they are. I might give a sub two or three hard hits each with a pause between but then I’ll switch to a more rapid series of spanks that don’t have as much force behind them but come faster.”  You nodded and experimented with taking your arm back further, testing out ways to change the strength of each spank, until Roger finally called you to stop.  “How did that feel?” he asked as you took your seat again.  “My hand tingles.”  “That’s normal,” Roger laughed, “in fact it’s one thing I really enjoy about spanking by hand. The sub isn’t the only one who feels the spanks, the dom gets some of the pain in his hand too, especially if the intensity ramps up or there's a section of quick-fire spanks. And that can a) help the dom understand what the sub is feeling and work out how long the scene should go and b) brings a sort of intimacy to the scene that is harder to achieve with a tool.”  You hummed as you noted down what he’d said, “Have you ever spanked someone so much you injured your wrist or anything?”  “No.” Roger shook his head, amused by the question, “My wrists are pretty sturdy. But a few times I’ve been left with a stingy, tingly hand for an hour or two. Which brings me to an important note about pain. There are two main types of pain you can experience in impact play. We refer to them as thuddy and stingy.”  “Thuddy and stingy? What is this, an afternoon kids show?”  Roger rolled his eyes, “The names are simple but they explain exactly what they mean. Some types of impact will have a stingy sensation which is usually superficial. It won’t go deeper than the first few layers of skin and probably leaves the skin feeling warm and a little tingly or like sunburn, y’know? It’s typical of spanks and slaps. Thuddy pain is deeper, it gets into the fat and muscles and tissue and aches more. And I’ll go through which tools cause which sort of pain as I get to them. Generally though, people who enjoy impact play have a preference for one or the other.”  “And your preference is what?”  “Thuddy. Definitely. Although I prefer inflicting stingy.”  You hummed thoughtfully.  “Now, I’ll go into details about ways to actually incorporate spanking into a scene later. We can talk about it while we’re negotiating our scene. Today is just about the practicalities and sensations involved in the different types of impact play. So are you okay to move on?”  “Yup, definitely.” And then, sensing Roger might ask, you added, “Pizazz.” feeling pleased when you saw him smile. 

“I don’t expect us to delve too deep into them but I think I should touch on kicking, punching and slapping. Kicking and punching are things I’ve not done. They can, obviously, be quite painful. But they’re pretty self-explanatory. From what I understand about it, and what I’ve heard others who enjoy that kind of thing say, kicking and punching can both be very intimate, similar to the way spanking by hand is, but in a more primal or animalistic way. Punching is, of course, done without any accessories but kicking often includes footwear of some kind. A lot of time it’s something like a steel-toed boot or something with a bit of weight to it.”  “That isn't something I want to try.” You’d learnt a lot about how far kink went so weren’t completely shocked that some people would enjoy something as forceful as kicking, but it did take you by surprise to hear Roger talking about it.  “What about slapping?”  “How is that different to spanking?”  “Well, you’re right, they are similar. But slapping generally refers to slapping on the face whereas spanking is usually on the, uh, derriere. Of course you can slap or spank other parts too. For clarity’s sake, if I say slapping assume I mean on the face whereas spanking is anywhere else on the body.”  You thought about it for a second, “I’m not sure if I’d be game to try it but I do want to know more.”  “Slapping can be fun. Again, it’s not one I do a lot but I have played with it in the past. It comes in handy for particular scenes and there’s a fairly bratty sub I’ve worked with who responds really well to it. The most important thing to know is that if you are slapping someone’s face only ever aim for the cheeks. There’s a lot of fragile places around the face and it’s close to the brain so you need to be careful not to do any lasting damage. Never hit the temples because you hit them with enough force and it can kill a person. Nose and ears are off limits too, anything that is important.  You knew enough about biology to know Roger wasn’t making those rules up for fun. Noses were easy to break and hitting an ear too hard could damage someone’s hearing. But face slapping did still intrigue you. 

“Well, I’d say the next – let's call it the next level – of impact play is paddling.” He picked up what looked to be a wooden plank with a handle. It was an inch or two longer and wider than his hand with small holes cut out in a repeating pattern over the flat side so you could look right through it. “They don’t always look like this. Paddles come in lots of different shapes and sizes. This is a wooden one but they’re also frequently made of leather and sometimes the leather ones will have one side that’s a little more padded than the other. That gives you a bit of versatility with the pain. You can start off lightly with the padded side to get you in the zone and then during the scene switch it to the firmer side that hurts more. Or, if you don’t have access to a paddle at all, you can substitute a hairbrush.” He picked the hairbrush up and waved it back and forth.  “And that-” you pointed at the hair brush, “will feel the same as that?” you pointed at the wooden paddle, not quite able to reconcile the two in your mind.   “Not exactly the same but close. Honestly you can get really creative with impact play and not spend any money to get nearly the same results. I mean a plastic hairbrush might take a few extra hits or a little more force to really bruise someone but they’ll still end up sore from it. Or, if the hairbrush doesn’t do it for you, dig through your draws and see what else you can find. Wooden spoons, cutting boards, rulers, leather belts, spatulas, rolling pins, ping pong paddles, anything you can get your hands on. Just be mindful of how easily they’d break or them causing more pain than you expect.”  Again, you weren’t necessarily surprised by the lengths people would go to for sexual gratification, as Roger had put it, but it was a bit astounding. Still, you noted it all down just in case.   “Now a paddle generally falls under the stingy category but you do tend to get a deeper bruise than with your hand. Different factors could alter the way it feels too. If you put less force into it the pain will fall more on the thuddy side, same goes for if your hits are slower. But the pain call also be influenced by the size of the paddle, the material it’s made out of, the texture of it.”  “Texture?”  “Sometimes paddles have added texture, so they aren’t just a smooth, flat board. They might have metal studs that are more raised than the surface of the blade – the part you hit with – or ridging that will imprint the skin. This one has holes in it which definitely changes the feeling, makes it more intense. As you strike and the blade hits, the holes do two things. They stop any air cushions forming that would lessen the impact and they sort of push the skin into the holes which means the pain isn't completely even along where was hit. Plus it also leaves these cool circle marks behind which is fun.”  You realised you’d held your breath through the explanation, eyes following the paddle as Roger waved it through the air and ran his hands over it unconsciously. You hoped he had something more beginner friendly at home, though you couldn’t pretend you weren’t turned on by the way he wielded his weapon.  “Using it is quite similar to spanking but your hand isn’t hitting, it’s holding onto the paddle handle. So you just pull back,” Roger’s arm went back and the paddle swung backwards,” and then hit,” he swung his arm forward, the paddle cutting through the air and landing directly against the soft flesh of the pig. It made a satisfying thwack sound on impact and when Roger’ brought it back again you could see the circular patterns he’d talked about.   He demonstrated a few more times before he handed the plank to you.   It was heavier than you’d been expecting, solid wood, but the handle fit into your palm comfortably. You ran your hands over the flat part, what Roger had called the blade, and felt the holes with your fingers. The weight made it a little hard to swing but not impossible. You managed to mark the pig as well, stroking the circular imprints with your fingers.  “Try the hairbrush,” Roger said, swapping it for the paddle.  Its handle wasn’t quiet as long, but it was lighter and you found your hits were harder with it, without you even trying.   “Something to be aware of if you use an ordinary household item, or even just a different sort of impact toy. Because it’s lighter you can pull it back further and swing harder. A dom has to be aware of how much is going into each hit and how much their sub can handle.” 

“So what’s after paddles?”  “Floggers.” Roger picked his up off the table, “This is a fairly typical flogger. As you can see it’s made of black leather. It has the handle which is the thickest part and then a number of smaller tails. The tails is where you get the most variation which can be a stylistic choice or just a side effect of its price and overall quality. There’s a trick for knowing if a flogger is good quality or not. It should be pretty evenly balanced between the handle and the tails, so you should be able to do this,” he held out a finger and balanced the flogger on it carefully, the handle pointing out one way and the tails dangling over the other.   You thought for sure it would tip forward onto the tails and tumble to the ground but it hung there perfectly.  “Sometimes there will be more tails or they'll look different but no matter what, it should be balanced.” Roger gave a practiced flick of his hand so the flogger leapt into the air and he was able to catch the handle before it fell. “From a more stylistic point of view, you could get a flogger with less tails but they’ll be made of braids of leather which makes them heavier and thicker. Braided tails are also likely to have knots in the ends which can be a bit scratchy and even draw blood. They don’t have to be made of leather either. Rubber floggers are also popular. The tails on them tend to be more rectangular in shape, still flat but they have more edges and it actually feels like you’re being hit with more tails then there really are. And if you’re looking to really fuck someone up you can get hemp floggers. Sometimes they’ll look similar to this leather one but hemp is fairly stiff material and sometimes the tails will be shaped so that they’re sort of squiggly rather than flat lines. The squiggles hurt like a bitch, especially if they have knots at the end. Definitely start off with simple leather and work up once you’re more experienced.” Roger dragged the ends of the tails over his hand as he spoke, “I’d say this falls into the more thuddy type of pain. It can cover a large area of your body since the tails spread out and each of them creates an individual pain point. And because you’re being hit six or seven or nine or however many times at once, you can build up quite a rapid movement over a short period of time.”  You eyed the dancing tails as Roger moved his hand through them, “How long are the tails? Isn’t it a bit dangerous to have so many bits flying in all directions?”  Roger laughed, “Well yeah, kinda. I mean, that’s BDSM for you though, it gets dangerous which is why we’re all obsessed with safety. It’s a good thing to have noticed though, well done. The tails on this one are on the shorter side but some floggers will have much longer ones which means the dom can stand further back and still inflict a lot of pain. But you’re right, you do have to be mindful of the length and where they’re flying because a longer tail can potentially wrap around to somewhere you aren’t intending to hit. For instance, if you’re standing behind a person and flogging the back of their shoulder, you don’t want one of the tails to fly past their shoulder and around their neck. That would be incredibly painful and probably not what they expected or wanted from the scene.”  “So you have to take into account the length of the tails when you’re negotiating the scene then? And know where on the body to focus the hits so you don’t risk causing the wrong sort of pain and ending it early.”  “Exactly. That’s why negotiating the scene is important. Then both the dom and the sub will know what they want to achieve, what they want to get out of the experience, and they can tailor things to fit better. A lot of doms who are into impact play are likely to have multiple versions of their favourite toys – I myself have a few different paddles at home, I just didn’t bring them all in with me today – so by talking through what you want they’ll be able to choose the style of toy that will best fit the scene.”  “So how do you use a flogger then? Is it the same as spanking and paddling where you just swing your arm forward?”  “Sort of. Floggers have a few different ways to use them. There is of course the single strike option where, yeah, you do just hit them like you would with a paddle. I find that you don’t need to bring your arm back so far though, the movement comes from your elbow more than your shoulder.” Roger bent his arm so his hand and the flogger were roughly head height and then brought it down on the pig, “And you can change the angle of your single strike so that you hit them overhand or underhand or from one of the sides.” He demonstrated each direction as he said them, first bringing the flogger down from above, then swinging it up from below, then from the right side and finally a backhanded hit from the left. “But you don’t have to just pick a side to hit from. Paddles and hands are limited in how you can swing them but floggers have more movement. One way to use them is to swing them in a circle.” He moved back towards the pig to demonstrate, standing side on so that the tails whipped around and struck the pig, “I like starting off with circles because you can keep the pressure quite light. The tails sort of brush over the sub as they pass and it can be a good way to slowly build up. And then you can move into a figure eight as you get a bit harder.” Roger shifted his circles so they made a sideways eight in the air, subtly adjusting his stance so that the tail swished over the pig’s skin on both the forward and back motion.   You watched, awe-struck by how easily Roger swung the flogger, falling into a rhythm quickly. It wasn’t hard to imagine how he’d suddenly change the speed or the force of the swing when you were least expecting it.  

You were brought back to the present by Roger clearing his throat as he stilled the flogger, “The figure eight is why you should practice your backhand swing as much as any other. Because the tails will hit the sub on both the forward and back swings and you want them to be as even as possible.” He flipped the flogger in his hands, holding the handle out to you.   It felt smooth and cool in your hand, lighter than the paddle had been. You swished it experimentally, trying to get a sense of how it felt in motion.”  “Show me your overhand hit.” Roger said, leaning back against the nearest desk to watch.   You tried to imitate how he’d swung it, elbow bent, flogger raised.   It must have been good enough because Roger nodded and said, “how about underhand?”  He kept calling out different directions for a while, testing your reactions but you felt it helped you get a better grip on the toy and you found yourself adjusting how you held it so your movements became more fluid.   Roger watched you as you tried to keep up, his eyes locked onto your hands. Had you been looking, you might have caught sight of him subtly adjusting himself in his pants.   Finally, he seemed satisfied that you could successfully single strike from any direction and asked you to try the circle and figure eight motions.  They were harder to start, more awkward as you tried to work out the best way to move the flogger, and you caught Roger chuckling.”  “Oi, stop laughing,”  “Do you want some help?” he was still smiling but his request was genuine and when you nodded he stepped towards you. One of his hands moved to your waist as the other lay over yours on the handle of the flogger.  You tried not to grin too much as he did exactly why you’d hoped, and you felt him so close behind you.  “Like this,” His arm gently directed yours, the flogger beginning to move in a smooth circle.   “Oh, not so hard then,” you laughed, half turning to face him, “Y’know if someone walked in now this would be pretty hard to explain.”  His eyes darted to your lips, “Good thing we locked the door then.”  You hummed, waiting to see if Roger would close the gap.  He did a few seconds later, leaning in to kiss you softly. But the movement caused you both to forget about the flogger, your hands falling out of rhythm, and the tails whacking against your outstretched arms as they fell.   “Ow,” you both groaned, Roger stepping away from you.  It was disappointing but the disappointment was a little confusing. Surely you weren’t hoping for your professor to kiss you when you had no intention of sleeping with him that night.   Roger laughed, “Maybe that’s enough of the flogger today.”  “Might be for the best. Good thing I was so bad at it, otherwise we might have been really hurt.”  “You weren’t that bad. You actually looked good with it before I brought in the circles. Quite sexy really.”  “Thanks,” you said softly, trying to hide how pleased you were at that praise, “What else is there then?” 

“There's only one more that I can demonstrate but then there’s a few others I’ll touch on quickly too. So the last one I own is a crop.” He picked it up off the table, his fingers sliding along the length of it’s handle as he spoke, “This one I would put in the stingy category. It’s fast and sharp. Again, you can get crops in a few different styles. They will all have a handle like this, long and thin and probably with a slightly thicker point towards the end that’s easy to hold onto. The difference will be in the bit you hit with. This one is based on the sort of riding crop that's used on horses, so it’s quite plain. There’s just this loop of leather which hangs off the end. But others can be more decorative. I’ve seen crops which had ends shaped like hearts or that had studs pushed into them. Some of them are padded and some have a more rounded shape. We like our variety.”  “It looks scarier than the others I think,”  “Yeah, they’re quite intimidating aren’t they. And if you do it right, it’ll make a noise through the air, which just adds to how intimidating it can be.”  “Can you show me how to swing it now?”  “Absolutely. Now, you want to stand a bit further back with a crop because there is such a long handle. And the magic is in the wrist with these. You just flick the wrist and...”  You could hear the whooshing sound of it flying through the air before it cracked against the pig.  “Now some crops are more bendy and some are more stiff so, if you get one, you’ll want to practice swinging it a bit before you use it on a person, to get a feel for it. The flexibility of it might dictate how you stand or how strong the swing has to be. Give this one a go though.”  You felt oddly powerful as you took the crop and tightened your fist around the end. For a moment a vision of you decked out in leather dominatrix gear popped into your head and you nearly laughed. Unfortunately, the intimidating whooshing noise Roger had achieved was not as easy for you to make as you’d hoped, and the imagined power soon dissipated as you struggled to make the weapon sing.   Roger however was not disappointed. “It takes practice,” was what he said when you lamented your inability to create the sound, “And you don’t have to have the sound to make a good hit. It’s just kind of cool.”  When you still seemed disappointed he sighed.  “If it’s any help, I can’t always make the sound either. And besides, I wasn’t intending to use that one on you, unless you really, really want to. I mostly brought it to show you as an interesting part of your theory lessons. And so you’d have a sense of what a cane is like, even though I don’t have any of them to demonstrate.”  “A cane? Like....caning? Like what Victorian kids used to have done if they misbehaved or whatever?”  Roger laughed, “Kind of, yeah. It does have a history in corporal punishment. Which, might I add, wasn’t just for Victorian kids. It was still a thing when I was a kid. We didn’t get caned, more likely to be whacked over the knuckles with a ruler, but still. I don’t think it really left schools until the 80s.”  “Jesus,”  “Yeah. Occasionally I do wish I could bring out a ruler to shut a kid up,” he winked in jest, “Anyway, caning for BDSM is similar and uses the same sort of tool. A cane, funnily enough. Canes are long and thin like a crop but without the leather flap at the end or the more padded handle area. Traditionally they’re made from rattan which is a type of plant, but you can also get synthetic canes which are covered in leather. In my experience synthetic canes are actually harder. Not to use, I mean in the way they feel when you’re hit with them. The traditional rattan ones require a lot of maintenance though. You have to water them between uses, literally soaking them in a bath of water so they don’t dry out and break. But the benefit with a rattan cane is that if you get it home and realise you’d like something a bit shorter, you can cut it off yourself and just sandpaper down the rough edge and it’s good as new.”  “So are there any different version aside from synthetic? All the other toys had lots of variety.”  “Hmmm, not really. Most of the difference will be in how thick the cane is, which can effect the feel of it a lot. A thinner cane will sting when it hits and the force will make the skin hug the cane so it leaves these long marks behind. A thicker cane though might sting less but it’ll still hurt a lot, just more thuddy. And you tend to get more bruising from the thicker ones.”  “And do you use it the same as a crop?”  “Mostly, yes. The biggest difference is that you can use a larger section of a cane. The crop has the specific bit at the end to hit with whereas a cane doesn’t have that limit. The most important thing to remember is to try and aim a little short of where you want to hit because if you hit with a part of the cane six inches down, those top six inches are going to hit as well, and with force behind them they will wrap around the person’s side or arse or whatever until they make contact. But other than that, it’s a similar motion from the wrist and uses a similar amount of energy. And canes can make the cool whippy noise too.” 

“Is that everything then?”  “One last one, really quick. Whips.”  “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of whipping in kink.”  “Yeah, it’s one of those things that gets mentioned a lot even if comparatively fewer people are actually into it. But everyone’s heard the phrase chains and whips in relation to BDSM. There's a few different varieties of whips but I don’t really know enough about them to know the difference. They all look like whips to me. Very cowboy. But they’re one of the more intense versions of impact play. The pain they cause is quite sharp and stingy and will be very localised to a specific point because they have the one tail, as opposed to floggers which have multiple tails. Whips are very capable of breaking the skin though and feel very intensely painful. I do not recommend them unless you discover you’re a masochist and you’ve tried everything else impact play has to offer.”  “No need to tell me twice, Professor. Definitely do not want to try whips any time soon.”  “That’s very reasonable. And that is all of the impact play options I wanted to go through. There’s a little more to cover regarding safety before I let you go for the night, but how about we put the pig away and hope no one notices it’s been marked by crops and floggers.”  You chuckled and quickly moved to help Roger push the trolley back towards the freezer, locking the dead pig away securely, and to help pack up his toys.  When everything was tidy again you re-took your seat, Roger taking the one beside you. It made the end of the lesson feel less like a lesson and more of just a casual chat, the topic of which happened to be BDSM.   “The most important thing to remember when trying impact play is which parts of the body are safest to hit.” He paused for a moment, considering you, “But you’ve been studying biology for a while now, Ms Y/L/N. Care to guess which parts are safe and which parts you should avoid?”  You hadn’t expected to be asked so took a moment to consider your answer, “Well, the arse obviously. Ummm.... I guess I’d assume the best places to hit are the bits with more meat on them.”  “Very good. Entirely correct. There’s a reason most people think about spanking on the arse and that’s because it’s one of the best places to spank. Well, that and the fact that spanking is used so frequently in punishment scenes where you bend the naughty girl over your knee. But, yes, hitting the arse is good. Hitting the thighs can also be good, though the bit just under the arse cheek where it connects to the thighs hurts a lot. Which isn’t to say don’t ever spank there, just be mindful that it’s going to hurt more than directly on the arse cheeks. The pecks or breasts can be good places to hit, even the upper back where the shoulder blade is can be good. What about places to avoid hitting? Any ideas what those might be?”  You hummed in thought, “I’d imagine you wouldn’t want to hit the spine since it’s so important.”  “Right again Ms Y/L/N. The spine is definitely something to avoid. I don’t like hitting on the back much at all because there's too much important stuff there but I do know some others who don’t mind using a flogger there, especially while warming up before things get too intense. There are also the kidneys to watch out for,” he moved his hand to press against the spot on his own back, “because, as you no doubt know, part of the kidneys stick out under the ribcage so aren’t fully protected. Then a little lower down, just above the arse, is the tailbone which should also be avoided.   “What about the neck? That would be bad to hit too, right?”  “Yup. And that’s something to watch for if you’re doing anything on the shoulder blades. The spine of course runs all the way up the back of the neck and hitting there can do some very serious and lasting damage if you’re not careful. I know some people who will only flog the shoulder blades if the sub is wearing a collar because that adds a bit of protection around the C5 and C6 vertebrae but even so, better safe than sorry in my opinion. The front of the neck is also not good to hit since that’s where the vocal cords and all that is.”  “Which is why you have to be careful with a flogger’s tails, right?”  “Right. But what about on the front? Is there anywhere else you’d avoid?”  “Pussy,” you said with a laugh.  Roger laughed too, “Actually, depending on how it’s done, spanking a pussy can be quite enjoyable.”  “Wait really?”  “Yeah. I prefer doing it with my hand since you can feel when it makes the sub wet but it’s not totally unusual to use paddles or crops or even floggers down there too. I’m sure some people whip as well.”  You gulped at the thought.  “The biggest area to avoid on a person’s front side is the diaphragm and middle of the chest. There’s a lot of important stuff in there and a lot less tissue than elsewhere.”  “Do people get badly hurt doing impact play?” you glanced over the list of places Roger said to avoid. It made it seem like almost any spanking was running the risk of more than just some bad bruising.   “Sometimes.” Roger said seriously. He paused for a moment, thinking, and then continued, “Things can go wrong. And when you’re playing with intentionally hurting someone, things going wrong can be very serious. I won’t pretend there aren’t stories of people trying impact play and ending up paralysed or worse. But if you’re careful, if you pay attention and only hit certain areas and are mindful of how hard you’re hitting, then you’re going to be fine. And that’s why we come up with safe words and talk through scenes before we do them. So that you can minimize those risks and have a chance to communicate any worries or concerns.”  “But how can safe words help if you say them after you’ve already been hurt too much?”  “Well, for one, even if you’ve been hurt badly, using your safe word can stop things from being made worse. But you don’t have to wait until you’re hurt to use the safe word. Yes, if I spank you four times in a row and the fourth one feels so bad you can’t go on, then you should use your safe word before I give you a fifth. But you could also use it after the third hit when you aren’t sure if you want the fourth. And safe words aren’t just about physical pain. If you start off excited but then feel anxious after two hits you are well within your rights to safe word. You don’t have to wait until the damage is done. And, obviously, it’s not always easy to tell if that one hit more is going to be enough to make you want to stop. You can’t always know if the next hit is going to catch your neck wrong and do serious damage. But if you feel at all worried that it might, speak up. Not just worried either. If you feel distracted or you think I’m not paying enough attention to how I’m spanking you, or if I move to spank and area you don’t want me to touch, tell me. There is no wrong reason to use a safe word, even if we’re only a few minutes into the scene. I’ve said before that I’d rather you tell me to stop than for us to go on and you not feel comfortable, and I mean it.”  “I know, I guess I just never really thought about it being for mental stuff as well as physical.”  “Mmm, I should have checked that.”  “Well, let’s face it, you probably tried and I just didn’t pay attention. But, y’know, you’re very good at reassuring me when I start to get nervous.”  “I hope that’s a good thing.”  “It definitely is. I think if I didn’t have the reassurance, I’d chicken out of some things.”  “As long as you’re aware of the difference between some healthy nerves and anxiety that could be a sign you should slow down. And that you keep telling me how you’re feeling.”  “Of course I will.”  “Good girl.” 

An understanding seemed to pass between you as you sat in near silence, eyes on the other. Until Roger drew in a long breath and stood up.  “Right well, I think that’s just about everything. Obviously we weren’t able to see the levels of bruising that different implements can cause but it’s kind of dependent on the individual anyway. Everything can influence the severity of bruises and other marks. Tell me what a bruise is.”  “It’s broken blood vessels under the skin which cause discolouration.”  “Bingo. Now, obviously being spanked with a hand will leave less obvious bruises than being hit with a crop will and usually a paddle will bruise less than....i don’t know, a leather belt. But there's lots of factors to consider. The sub’s age, diet, the colour of their skin, their hydration level, how much sun exposure they’ve had recently, stress levels, hormones. And the biggest of all is how much stimulus they receive on that part of the body. The more you hit a spot, the deeper it will bruise. So, don’t expect bruises and marks to appear exactly the same every time you make them. There are some ways to heighten or lessen marks left during BDSM, but I’ll go through those when you’re ready for our practical lessons. And we’ll also go through some ideas for popular scenes and positions before we settle on what our scene will look like.” Roger seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, “Of course, it’s not so late we have to stop. If you did want to start testing out some light impact play, or if you wanted to revisit a previous topic, you’re more than welcome to come back to mine.”  “No,” you said much too fast, the suggestion catching you completely off guard.  “Okay, no problem,” Roger said, his eyes downcast.  “I didn’t mean...just that tonight’s not great timing.” You’d really thought you’d got out of having to talk about it but you could see Roger was going to ask what you were talking about when on a regular tutoring night you’d likely still be in his bed. All the same you couldn’t quite make eye contact as you explained, “My period started last night, that’s all. Makes things a bit awkward.”  “Oh is that all?”  You shrugged, “Yeah.”  “Well there’s no need to feel awkward or embarrassed about that. And there’s no reason to hide it from me. Aside from the fact that I’ve been married and had kids, I’ve also been teaching biology for longer than I care to count, so I’m very familiar with the reproductive processes and the reality of the menstrual cycle.”  “I knew you were going to say something like that.”  “Because it’s true. And besides, periods are important to factor into our lessons because they can change how you’ll respond to various kinks. Fluctuating hormone levels can change how much you enjoy or desire sex, as well as the physical sensation of different forms of touch. A lot of women find breast stimulation uncomfortable in the lead up to their period because their breasts become tender at that stage of their cycle. It can also make vaginal sex undesirable, at least in the first couple of days if not longer, whether because of a physical discomfort or pain, or just because it makes sex messier and more annoying to clean up after. The hormonal shifts in a menstrual cycle can also effect libido too, either stopping you from feeling aroused or causing hyper arousal. And all of that is important to consider, especially when we get to other things like orgasm denial. So, don’t feel you have to hide your periods from me, okay? I want to know if something is going to effect how enjoyable these lessons are for you. And plus, I factored periods into the timeline, remember? If you want to postpone for a week we can.  His little speech did put you at ease a bit, the weight of admitting the truth no longer as heavy now that he knew, but it still wasn’t an especially comfortable conversation, “Well, I should be okay to go in a few days.”  “Would you be up for having sex on one of the last days of your period when your flow is a little lighter? Or would you rather wait until after it was finished?”  You tried not to cringe too much upon hearing Roger talk about your flow, “After I think. I don’t know. How do you feel about it?”  Roger shrugged, “If we were just having sex without the kinky stuff I’d be okay with period sex. It’s a little more effort since we’d need to put towels down and all that but I’m not completely opposed to it if we’re both in the mood. However, I think since we’re playing with BDSM it’s probably a good idea to wait.”  You nodded, glad the topic was almost settled, “Yeah, that makes sense. I think I’d feel too self-conscious to enjoy any period sex but you’re definitely right about the BDSM stuff. Just makes it easier for my first time trying things out if I’m not worrying about, um, bleeding everywhere.”  Roger gave you a reassuring smile which made your heart flutter, grateful he hadn’t made things too difficult or drawn out, “That’s settled then. We can put a pin in all of this for now and come back to it when you’re ready.”  “Thanks. Will Friday suit? I think I should be right by then.”  “Friday sounds great.”  “Really? You don’t have to, like, pick up the kids or anything?”  Roger shook his head, amused, “No. It is technically my weekend with them but they’re both staying at friend’s placed over night so I won’t see them until Saturday. Friday we can start testing some things and if we need to, we can come back next Monday and go through more. And I finish a bit earlier on Fridays so maybe we could start a bit earlier.”  “Yeah that works for me.”  “Great. I guess we should get out of here then.” Roger ushered you from the classroom and walked beside you all the way to the carpark, your footsteps echoing down the corridors. He chatted to you quietly about non-kinky topics, as if you’d merely ended up walking the same direction by accident, just in case anyone was looking.   You were almost sad to reach your car, drawing the conversation to an end, “This is me.”  “One last thing, Ms Y/L/M.”  “Mmm?”  “For homework-”  “Homework?”  “Yes. For homework I want you to watch some porn with impact play in it. You’ll find a few examples linked in a document I’ve dropped in our folder but feel free to find your own too. It can be spanking by hand or flogging or any other form of impact we discussed today, whatever turns you on most. Because I want you horny when I see you on Friday. I want you to spend all week thinking about naughty sluts who get spanks, knowing you’ll soon be one of them. I want you excited to be hit and wet at the thought of me spanking your arse and cunt while I fill your holes with cock. Is that clear?”  Roger had leant closer as he talked and your stomach did a backflip as he stood up. All you could do was nod, completely lost for words as Roger chuckled and walked into the dark towards his own car.   

[missyasf]

Game Of Hearts

| 3 |  

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 9.5k

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Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together! 

3rd Day Sojourn 

“Looks like we got a smartass here don’t we?” 

You felt torn on whether to intervene or not. Chishiya, was by no means a hero or a prince charming. You didn’t need to know him to know he was going to be the last person to save you out of good will. Not like you needed saving regardless but you couldn’t help but wonder what his motive was. 

Chishiya still had that cold smirk on his face, as if extremely amused at the furious Niragi you had held him up by the jacket, even face to face he not once had a change in expression, as if he just genuinely didn’t care about whatever Niragi felt. 

“Probably because I am smarter than you.” Chishiya lifted his chin a little a devious icy smile on his lips like he was getting a rise out of the way Niragi simmered and growled at him, his hands tightening around his jacket and you were briefly worried if Chishiya didn’t shut up that he was going to be beat into a pulp. No matter how smart he was, he couldn’t outwit his way from getting throat punched. Although...you wouldn’t deny a secret part of you would find that mildly funny. You also wanted to throat punch him on certain occasions. 

“I believe that’s enough Niragi.” Everyone paused at the sight of someone new arriving, Ryu had gotten out of the pool to stand next to you and Hiroko as he whispered, “That’s number three, Kuzuryuu. He often keeps everyone in their place when Hatter isn’t around.” 

Niragi stuck his tongue as he began to cackle, letting go of Chishiya. Breathing in relief you relaxed a little as everyone did the same. Just within a split second though you could hardly comprehend the sight of Niragi immediately decking Chishiya right across the jaw who was knocked off balance. People were already intervening as you stood there gaping. You didn’t think Niragi would actually punch him. 

You had thought Chishiya’s expression would’ve changed but much to your disbelief it was as if he was even more settled into his resolve, grabbing his jaw as a viscous smile appeared on his lips, spitting out blood as he goaded, “So you agree then? Anyone with half a brain would be able to reply instead of resort to violence.” 

Did this man really wanna die on his first day in the Beach? 

Niragi was pulled away and back to his group with steam practically pouring out of his ears, attempting to get back to Chishiya before he was yanked back by perhaps the most physically intimidating man you had ever seen, “That’s number 2, Agni, the leader of the militant sect.” Hiroko clarified to you but it fell on deaf ears as you hurried over to Chishiya, now feeling immensely bad that regardless of his intentions he was hurt for what? Gloating? Was his ego truly that big, “God are you insane!?” You cried out in a whisper kneeling down, your maternal instincts on overdrive as you grabbed his face immediately checking for any bruising. 

Chishiya almost like a cat that didn’t want to be touched pulled away from your grip unappreciative, “I don’t like annoying or stupid people.” He replied immediately, his eyes leering ungratefully, “And he was ruining a perfectly good day for me. If you think I’d care for someone like you then you’re more delusional then you look. Besides it’s just blood, it’ll go stop.” 

Ouch.

You rolled your eyes at him deciding to not take his words to heart though a tiny part of you wondered if he only said that due to the conversation you both had last night. Or maybe he just really didn’t care. Regardless it didn’t matter, “He had a fucking rifle!” You whispered angrily, “I get it, we aren’t best friends but I don’t wanna see you get shot you asshole.” 

“We aren’t friends at all,” Chishiya replied coolly, his eyes analytical and calculating, his gaze like ice that glared you down as if you were his new target for a reason unknown, “We aren’t even acquaintances. We’re just strangers and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I don’t need your concern or care, so stay out of my way.” 

You felt thoroughly indignant at his words as you clenched your jaw, “You know what? I doubt you’ve ever had anyone care for you and I can see why. I hope he hits you harder next time you jerk.” This man drove you utterly insane! And you couldn’t even understand why. Chishiya was so cold and for no reason…! 

Walking back to your pool chair you snatched your shorts, “Y/n…! Y/n! Are you okay!?” Nanami hurried to your side, you had forgotten all about your sister being in full range of the horror show she had just finished watching between you and Niragi. Probably too scared to try and intervene and you didn’t blame her. Had it been anyone else besides your sister in your shoes you would’ve kept to yourself as well. 

“I’m fine, I’d say you should check on Chishiya but apparently he doesn’t need anybody!” You flailed your arms before plopping down on the seat still mad, “What a…! A…! Pathetic, bitter way to live! He’s so conceited!” You curled your fists as you pulled your shorts up before buttoning them as you grabbed your sheer cover up jacket. 

Nanami frowned as she grabbed her hands, “Well…” You whipped around in anger, silently staring at her, just daring her to try and come up with some excuse for this guy. Nanami, was a soft hearted person, she never wanted to judge a book by it’s cover and always gave the benefit of the doubt. You admired that about her, but you sometimes wished she was a bit more….realistic with people, “I’m sure he’ll come around.” She decided to not pursue her original words as she offered a weak smile. 

“You can deal with that if you want, but I’m done with him. Anytime I try to be relatively nice, I just get spit in the face.” Huffing you crossed your arms, “I’m going on a walk.” And true to your words you did, you needed to be by yourself for a while to clear your head after what had all transpired just minutes ago. 

“Originally I helped run a ranch but I wanted to see all the sights so I moved out of my pops and came here to the city!” The music was loud in here and so many people were dancing, makeshift stripper poles had been made and honestly. You understood the Beach was supposed to be an escape, but that didn’t make it a bit of a pathetic sight to see people attempting to swing around and accidentally break it. Multiple times. 

You were currently sat at the table with Akari, Hiroko and Ryu everyone having a fairly good time and the longer you talked to Hiroko the less intimidating she became, “I don’t really remember much to be honest,” Akari scratched her head as she hummed, “Just that after I finished putting groceries up I saw fireworks out of my window.”

You straightened up in curiosity, you had seen the same thing! “Yeah we all did,” You slumped at Ryu’s words as he frowned, “Nobody can remember anything after seeing them except waking up here in the Borderlands.”

“What were you guys before this…?” You asked, not wanting to linger for long on just where you were, in a city that was a replica of Tokyo with only a handful of what? A hundred people, maybe a little more? You didn’t have the mindset right now to even try and grasp what was going on or what had happened. 

“I was a lawyer,” Hiroko answered first, her expression clearly proud and you’d imagine why, this meant she was older than you! “I did quite a bit of traveling around and dabbled in attorney work for awhile...That’s what my dad wanted me to go in as,” She rolled her eyes, “But I found I’m better at building a case.” 

Somehow...you weren’t surprised, you smiled regardless wrapping your arms around yourself, the more you talked to them the more comfortable you began to feel, “One morning I was late to getting to the courthouse and this idiot ended up spilling coffee on me,” Hiroko’s words may have been harsh but she looked Ryu with the softest expression you had ever seen her wear.

Obvious fondness in her eyes, “It was by chance he did that I like to think it was by fate I ended up meeting him again except he was behind the counter at the coffeeshop I always went too.” 

Ryu’s cheeks dusted pink as he gave an awkward smile, “I worked evening shifts but got switched over to mornings, best decision I ever made! I’m currently in my last year of college for being an art curator!” 

“A cure what now?” Akari cocked her head to the side and for some reason the three of you busted out laughing at her as she parted her lips, “Hey don’t laugh! I’m being serious! Is that some kind of professional coffee maker?” 

You closed your eyes giggling as you shook your head, “What about you Y/n? What were you before all of this?” You paused for a second at Hiroko’s question as the table quieted down, suddenly your memory swiped back to the night of the fireworks. What happened at work, how you were supposed to go to class the next day. How your night ended early.

“Ah…” You rubbed the back of your neck as you sheepishly smiled, unsure of where to even begin. It wasn’t that...you were ashamed of your work you just- felt often misunderstood by people. Anytime you said you were a sex worker you either recieved wild looks and suddenly you were treated lowly or people- men in particular would begin to send you uncomfortable innuendo’s. 

 “Ah…! Y/n!” You straightened up at the muffled screech that sounded like your sister as your eyes shot around the room only to find Nanami fumbling towards you with a whine, suddenly hiding behind you as you frowned standing up, “Good! Good! I’m glad you’re here!” She chuckled nervously as your expression contorted. 

“Where is that bitch!?” 

Oh...why did this seem vaguely familiar, “What did you do?” You hissed as you turned to Nanami as she rubbed her neck sheepishly only for you to whirl back around again at the sight of a raging woman, the most notable feature her breasts nearly spilling from her loose bikini top as she pointed an accusing finger at your sister, “Why don’t you stop being a slut trying to get with MY boyfriend and take it up with me!” 

“Nanami!” You hissed as she cowered behind you, her lips tugging into a pout as she poked both her pointer fingers together with a frown. You had an obligation as a big sister to at least try to defend her before feeding her to the wolves, “Maybe you should give that energy to your boyfriend...Wasn’t he the one supposed to stay loyal?” You raised your brows as you spoke. 

You shrieked as you ducked down, a beer bottle flying above you as the girl raged on. 

“That’s Kokona, resident miss possessive.” Hiroko leaned back in her seat as she sipped her drink, obviously this wasn’t too odd of a sight as she shrugged, “You might wanna run.” 

You brows raised at her words only to see Kokona gathering three other men around as Hiroko snorted, “She’s got a whole pack of guys willing to do her bidding.” 

“Y/n…!” Nanami whined, grabbing your arm as you watched the three men approach, you looked between Nanami and them as your lips parted in a half sincere apology. 

“...Sorry Nami that's what happens when you try to sleep with someone's boyfriend!” You shoved past her as you heard her yelling at you as she split off on the other side of the room. People did nothing to effort to try and move out of your way as you shoved between them, ducking down as weaved through the crowd in hopes of attempting to lose them, you really didn’t want this to become a reputation for you and your sister. 

Diving into a booth seat you felt the stares of two men as you offered an awkward smile, “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to not get killed…” You offered a quirked smile as you grabbed the long island tea off the table, tipping it towards them as they all bubbled out cheers as you took a long sip, your eyes carefully watching over the crowd as you spot the one guy that must’ve been sent after you. 

After all you weren’t the one that Kokona wanted to kill, it was a pretty common occurrence you had experienced except...at least the woman before wasn't psychotic enough to actually try to kill you. You supposed the Borderlands were different. Very different. 

“Hey you should totally hang with us! We got your back babe.” You looked up at the dorky grin of the man you had sat next to your lying figure, which you were trying to use the table as coverage, “No extra cost needed beside a good laugh!”

You offered a weak smile, “I’m Y/n!” You introduced, endeared at the oddly innocent smile on his face as you awkwardly shifted, “My sister tried to sleep with someone's boyfriend and I somehow got dragged into it.” 

“Kokona’s a mean one,” The guy across the table hiccuped as he lifted his glass, “I’d stay away from her if I were.” You lifted up onto your elbows as you glanced up at him, his eyes heavily dilated before you realized he had obviously been as high as a kite and drinking...No wonder they looked so out of it. 

Watching the three men rally back together you quickly pressed back against the seats as you closed your eyes, “Yeah, I can tell...Is she like this with everyone....?” You grabbed the glass once more for another sip, needing something to take the edge off of this whole day. If your sister wasn’t so horny you wouldn’t be in this position right now!

“Nah, mainly girls.” The one beside you waved a hand, “She’s pretty cool otherwise, a little ruthless though. She gloats about her speciality being hearts a lot so she thinks it makes her automatically superior since most of us are spades or clubs players.” 

Sitting up a little you tilted your head in confusion, holding the drink you now claimed as yours as you drank it once more, “Specialty? Are venues specified towards…? What? A certain type of suit?” 

“No! No! Nothing like that, specialty just means what you naturally have a knack for! All games are still random at each venue,” The guy beside you sloshed his drink, obviously semi drunk himself as he explained, “That's why Hatter sends a team of four or three where each person has a specialty in each suit- except there isn’t a lot of hearts player, because we haven’t really encountered any…” 

Jiggling your drink you looked down at the ice that was slowly melting as you hummed, “Okay that makes sense.” You nodded remembering Hatter mentioning this was well, it would only be natural that the longer you survived you’d have a preference for a suit. 

“Hey aren’t you new?” The guy across the table pointed a sluggish finger at you, “Shouldn’t you be a little more...freaked out…?” 

You offered a weak smile as you glanced away, “Oftentimes in traumatic situations hysteria doesn’t always hit first, it’s likely that my psyche is still in shock and hasn’t fully processed what I’ve seen the past day…” The guy across the table squinted his eyes as he nodded with his lips parted as if in awe at your words, “It’s a mental thing,” You waved at your head, “To try and keep the psychological state of my mind in one piece.” 

You wouldn’t deny, there was a certain part of you that felt numb to everything and a smaller part of yourself wondered how you could intake all this information without going hysterical. But...the way you saw it was if this was your reality now, there was nothing you could do to change it. It was better you just got as much information as you could and try your best to adapt if you were going to live on. 

Glancing out over the crowd you noticed the men had disappeared once again as you offered both the guys a smile, “Thanks for letting me stay! But I’d better get going.” You gave a small nod, getting up as you held the glass, looking down at it as you frowned...You really hoped this wasn’t laced with anything or else it was going to be a very long night. 

Pushing through the crowd you couldn’t find Nanami anywhere but you did spot the girl you had sent three guys after you both like a fucking dog. Squeezing the glass you took a long drink as you approached her, “Kokona,” You called out with a smile as you waved, her eyes sharp as she immediately glared you down, “Listen…” You approached her with an easy smile, “I’m not here to make enemies, my sister is young and she probably didn’t realize it was your boyfriend…But like I said, you don’t really want a guy like that around…”

“Listen here you walmart knock off barbie,” Kokona pointed a sharp nail at you making your lips part a little in surprise at just how aggressive she was, “I don’t give a fuck. I don’t have the time or patience, here of all places. I’m sure you understand right?” She offered a gritty smile, “So tell that bitchy little sister of yours to stay out of my sight if she doesn’t want her hair ripped out.” 

Pressing your tongue to your cheek you looked away for a second before down at your drink...Well, she asked for it. 

You without a second thought held the drink up before splashing it all over her, “Say what you want about me I don’t give a fuck,” You stepped closer to her as you offered a gritty smile of your own, “But don’t ever say anything about my sister. I’m sure I’ll see you later.” You waved a hand as you turned around, walking back to the table where Akari, Ryu and Hiroko looked like they were all preparing to duck for cover at the show Kokona had put on for them unknowingly.

Setting the glass down at the table you collapsed in your chair as you whined, “Why are women so unfriendly here!?” 

Hiroko snorted as she shrugged, obviously not bugged like you were about it, “In this world it’s either kill or be killed, a lot of people don’t have time for niceties anymore. You’ll get used to it. Besides, Kokona is just a bitch to everyone. Don’t take it so personal.” She shrugged, “While you and Nanami were getting chased down we were talking…” 

You frowned as you looked up at all three of them as Akari smacked the table, “We should all go out for a game tonight! I know! I know, counterproductive especially with our visa’s stocked for the next few days but I think it’d be fun!” 

“Fun!?” The three of them paused as you sat up in your seat, looking at them all like they were insane because they obviously had to be, “Fun!?” You repeated again with even more emphasis, “Guys…! You- you could die!” 

“We could die just trying to breath here,” Hiroko scoffed as she shrugged, nonpulsed at your reaction as she picked her nails, ‘Besides you don’t have to go, I get it. We were all like this when we were new too. But I figured we’d make a good team logically. My speciality is diamond, Ryu’s is clubs and we just found out Akari is spades. And we have you, our wild card to figure out what you’re good at. It’s unlikely we’d die. By statistics at least.” 

You rubbed your neck, feeling a little more at ease with Hiroko’s rationality as you mumbled, “Well what about Nanami…?” Your eyes washed over the crowd, finally spotting your sister against the wall sipping something trying to act like there weren't three guys after her. 

“I doubt you’d want her to go?” Hiroko raised her brows, “Besides she still has three days left on her visa, she’ll be fine. Again, I’m not gonna pressure you into going, if all you’re gonna do is panic you probably will get lynched.” 

Her words made you puff your chest a little as you looked back to Nanami before back to the table, well...if they all had a strong suit then why not? “Alright, I’m in!” Who knows when you’d get the opportunity again to get more days on your visa in a considerably safe group. 

“I get it you’re like a walking model but seriously?” Hiroko leaned against the bathroom wall as she sighed picking at her nails, “You weren’t even in a full bikini.” 

“This has nothing to do with vanity and everything to do with comfort!” You called back, pulling up the loose sweatpants, “I’m not going to possibly go into a game that makes me run while wearing swimwear, I don’t hate myself that much!” You pulled the loose t-shirt over your head before pulling out the maroon jacket as you walked out, stuffing your swim attire in the bag. You had been at the venue for the past five minutes now, having not crossed the threshold but you still have time before it closed. 

“How many people have showed up?” You asked as you stood next to Hiroko who dropped her hand as she looked at you rolling her eyes as she sighed, standing up as you both walked to where Akari and Ryu were discussing the possibilities of what the game would be tonight. 

“Eh, like four? Maybe? I think that guy you know is in there.” Hiroko shrugged casually, “Looks like a good setup for a spades game, they typically have a bigger group number.” 

“What?” Your brows furrowed, what guy? Your mind drew a blank briefly as Ryu stretched out with a nod.

“Well if we’re all ready to go then let's head inside it’s almost six.” Ryu nodded once more as everyone followed behind him, you tossed your bag against the wall, it’s not like you had to be worried about anyone stealing in this climate. Your heartbeat picked up as you crossed the threshold. 

Noticing indeed four other people here before your lips parted and your face screwed into irritation, “Really!?” You muttered under your breath, immediately turning away from the familiar white hood as you stubbornly crossed your arms, “Hiroko why didn’t you say it was him!?” You hissed a whisper to her. 

Hiroko looked between you and Chishiya who was on his phone, earbuds in and ignoring the outside world before she tried to hold a laugh, “Did you two fuck or something?” You immediately flailed at her words making both her and Akari start laughing at both your misery and anger as you glared at her in unappreciation. 

“You think i’d fuck someone like him!?” You hissed out, “No, he's a total jerk! I…! Why can’t I go anywhere without him showing up!” You groaned as you crossed your arms, “Whatever, maybe he’ll get his guts ripped out tonight.” 

“Ouch, that’s a little harsh.” Ryu frowned, innocent as ever as he held his hands together, before offering a cute smile, “I’m sure he’ll come around, we’re all a part of the beach after all.” You sourly crossed your arms as you looked at the clock, striking six just in time for you to get tonight started with whatever death trap awaited.” 

Somehow, you doubt Chishiya held any loyalty to any of you at all just because you all slept in the same hotel…

The TV on the wall lit up as everyone's attention turned to it, obviously nobody was new here tonight as no one spoke to each other.

Game

Difficulty: 3♡ 

“A heart's game?” Ryu mumbled, his brows furrowed as he looked between you all as you gave a little shrug, your face twisted in concern as you wrapped your arms around yourself, “Well at least it’s a low difficulty! I’m sure it won’t be too hard to solve!” 

“The game you will be participating in is Blind Man's Bluff. Everyone will be required to wear a blindfold for one minute where the tagger will pass their tag off,” The screen depicted a faceless man passing quite literally a name tag off to one sitting down “Tags pertain to who is a player and who is the tagger. You will have twenty minutes to complete the game. It’s a Game ‘Clear’ if the tagger is discovered before the end of the last round, it’s a Game Over for the players if the tagger remains undiscovered.” 

Rules:

After each tagging sequence players will remain seated to take off their blindfold and find out if they have been selected as the tagger.

Blindfolds must be worn and kept on for the whole minute during the tagging sequence or it’s a Game Over.

Violence against other players is strictly prohibited and will result in a Game Over.

Players must remain seated for the whole time period of the tagging sequence or it’s a Game Over.

Game Clear conditions: If the players find out who the tagger is before the time runs out or it’s a Game Over for all players.

Tension had risen in the air a little as you felt your throat become dry, everyone immediately looked at each other somewhat suspiciously as the doors opened to the school gym, it was dark and empty outside of eleven chairs lined in a circle, all backs facing each other. 

“It could be worse.” Hiroko whispered to you as everyone grabbed a blindfold off the table that stood off in the distance, “As long as we just keep passing the tagger off to someone else we should be fine.” 

“Unless one of us gets picked by the end?” You quirked a brow as you rubbed the back of your neck, chances of that happening was one in ten but still, “I don’t like those odds Hiroko.” 

Hiroko only snorted as you both walked up, grabbing a blindfold as your eyes darted to the tags that laid out. Your brows furrowed at the stuffed bear with a blindfold on, his name tag ‘Rikku’ that took up his whole stomach, grabbing a tag as you turned back to face Hiroko.

“All we have to do is get a confession out of the tagger, it can’t be that hard.” Hiroko shrugged as she grabbed her blindfold as you puffed a breath of air, you hadn’t known her for long and despite knowing she was a lawyer before all of this...it was just still hard to imagine unless she was pressuring. Not exactly your method of going about stuff like this. 

Walking to a chair towards the left side of the room you sat down, crossing your legs as you looked up at the two clocks, one at twenty minutes that began ticking away and another holding at one minute. 

Looking towards your left your gaze immediately snapped back forward as your lips curled a little at the insufferable sight of blonde hair who made no effort to try and speak to you. 

Was he just sitting here purposely to annoy you? Because if you got tagger you would most definitely put it on him next. 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

Putting on your blindfold you tied it in a loose knot as you relaxed back into your chair, not being the tagger was perhaps the boring part of this game, the whole minute passed by and you briefly felt something press against your blindfold before it left. 

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now.” Taking off your blindfold you flipped it over only to find the tag player stuck on it, attached magnetically as you pulled it off, proceeding to wait the ten seconds before the scoreboard went off and everyone stood up. 

“Maybe we should start easy and just show who has a name tag?” Ryu coughed a little as he scuffed his shoe against the ground, rubbing his neck as he frowned, everyone, as if it was possible, became all the more tense. 

You looked around at all the blindfolds that were being held, “I don’t think that will work, we've most likely all been provided a nametag, the only odd man out is the one with tagger. But they’ve most likely hidden it. All we can do is just take a guess of who it could be.” 

Nobody spoke for a moment making Hiroko heave a sigh as she cracked her neck, “Alright I’ll do it, I’m used to this in court. What about you!” She suddenly pointed to a shorter girl who had been fiddling with her skirt, suddenly jumping at the accusation. 

“What!? I’m- I’m not the tagger!” She squeaked out, nervousness suddenly on her expression and many of the wolves of the group were definitely preying on her right now as Hiroko puffed a breath crossing her arms. 

“Then why do you look so nervous?” She raised an accusing brow, making you shift in your spot, crossing your arms, you couldn’t agree with Hiroko’s approach to this that was just stoking fire to an already stressful atmosphere where everyone was quickly beginning to pin the blame on each other. 

You could only stand there and watch as everyone began to argue as you pinched the bridge of your nose, “We’re never gonna get anything solved if we go about it like this.” You muttered to yourself as you sighed.

“If you’re that confident in doing better then you should assert yourself more.” 

You turned to Chishiya who was also standing not quite close enough for you to say he was next to you, but close enough. Your eyes squinted into a glare as you spoke, “Right and how do I know you’re not the tagger?” 

“Because I would’ve tagged you next if I was.” Chishiya shrugged casually making you clench your fists as you let out a noise of irritation, you hated that…! Annoying smirk of his! Despite not knowing him for long you could get the idea he obviously got off on annoying you and it only fueled your irritation that much more. 

“The feelings are mutual, stranger.” You hissed as you crossed your arms, “And I’ll have you know I am not going to insert myself into...that!” You waved your hand at the sight of two of the men now shouting at each other, the taller one immediately grabbing the other by the shirt, “Because at that point you’ll just be accused with any sort of logic.” 

You puffed a breath as you wrapped your jacket around yourself, “And besides, this chaos is a great scapegoat for the real tagger to just sit back and watch everyone pick each other off-” You paused as you turned to Chishiya as you silently berated yourself, why were you even rambling to this guy!? He was a total jerk and you were not about to let go of this morning where you were only trying to help, “Why are you even talking to me? Didn’t you want us to...what? Stay strangers?” 

“I’m...not talking to you?” He raised his brows, his lips quirking into an infuriating half smile as if he had a point making your lips pucker together and your jaw clench in effort to try and keep your obvious anger to a minimum, “It’s not my fault you won’t shut up.” He had the audacity to shrug. 

You couldn’t help but stomp your foot as you glared at him, “You know what!? I get the feeling if you didn’t care you would’ve gone and sulked in the corner the whole game. In fact, I bet you like listening to me ramble. After all the whole day and a half I’ve known you that's all you do other than instigate unnecessary fights!” 

Chishiya’s gaze narrowed a little and you watched his body coil a little away from you at your words, “In what world would you think I care to listen to you?” His lips twitched into cruel smirk as he spoke, “Besides your irrational anger and blabbering, you don’t have an ounce of sense or logic in your body. You're probably best suited for hearts because all you do is spill emotion.” 

“That is not what hearts are about!” You retaliated as you threw your hands even more frustrated, “Why are you so defensive the moment I say anything in relation to you possibly not being some emotionless humanoid!? I get it,” You flailed your arms as you spoke louder, “I was a total dick for comparing you to a sociopath! Okay? I can admit that, and usually I can understand where people are coming from but- but you!? I genuinely don’t get you! At all! One moment you wanna pretend like everything's cool between us and then the next you wanna act like a total asshole! And that’s not cool!” 

Chishiya had looked away from you heaving a loud sigh making you stomp your foot again, here you were exerting all of your emotion into him and he really…! 

Your fists curling only to realize just how silent it was...you turned to look at the crowd of people who all had stopped fighting and...Oh...you felt your face become hot as you wrapped your arms around yourself in embarrassment...Were you really that loud…

“If you and your boyfriend are done arguing we have more important things to solve!” A man pointed a finger at you with a hiss making you curl away, your ears burning at his words as you snapped back, “He is not my boyfriend! Besides you aren’t getting anything done just yelling at each other,” You turned away from Chishiya now unable to even look him in the eyes at the moment, “The real question is who has been silent up until now? The tagger would obviously sit back and watch because why would they insert themselves when you’re doing a great job at killing time.” 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

Clenching your jaw you sat in your chair as everyone proceeded to do the same, it was now silent as you put on your blindfold, now angry and not even at the game. You wasted your whole time, not even arguing with Chishiya which somehow made you feel even more angry. 

It was like talking to a wall.

Crossing your legs you curled up against yourself, mad just...Why were you even mad? You shouldn’t be letting someone like this get under your skin. You briefly wondered why it bothered you so much. Come to think of it, you supposed it was for the exact reason you said. 

Chishiya, puzzled you to no end and you had never experienced that with someone, ever. You couldn’t figure out what he was thinking nor find an understanding as to why he was so back and forth with you. Maybe it was your misinterpretation? But...You shook your head a little despite your gaze darkened from the blindfold, it wasn’t that. 

It was obvious, for whatever reason, he was holding himself back, From what? You didn’t know, but for now…

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now.” 

Pulling off your blindfold you looked at it, the same tag remaining of Player on it. You needed to focus on finding out who the tagger was, really this was like a game of hot potato, chances of the tagger getting killed was just as high as all the players dying, and who would want to take that chance? 

Maybe some, you stood up after the scoreboard went off and the original clock resumed as you turned around facing everyone to judge their reactions, Hiroko and Ryu were the same and so was Akari to your knowledge. Your eyes briefly flickered to Chishiya who had remained seated, his hands in his pockets, he also...You doubted yourself briefly, you couldn’t rule him out. 

“Who here wasn’t talking last round?” You asked, looking around at everyone, who obviously everyone immediately began speaking much to your frustration, you couldn’t expect someone to answer honestly which only meant...Puffing a breath, “Alright, how about this, let’s all trace a conversation with one person we talked too last round.” 

...You’d just have to manipulate the tagger into confessing

First you’d need to trace who was absolutely not the tagger and narrow it from there, “I’ll go first as an example since everyone seemed to hear last round,” You looked away briefly, a somewhat awkward smile on your lips, “I was talking to Chishiya about why he’s such an asshole. You don’t need his confirmation given everyone saw it, but typically you’d need someone to vouch for you in order to confirm you were talking. Now to those that didn’t talk, it doesn’t make them guilty, just more suspect.” 

“Me and Ryu were talking to each other about who the possible tagger was.” Hiroko spoke up, pulling a hand around Ryu’s waist who looked a little flush as he nodded, semi shy as you nodded yourself. That answer wasn’t too surprising. 

“Well I was talkin’ to this fine gentleman here about how I wasn’t the tagger.” Akari waved a hand to the guy beside her, who still leered but nodded in confirmation which cleared the both of them. You had hoped...this would keep civil, but as everyone went around, there was bound to be some who just genuinely didn’t remember because they were arguing with everyone, and those who were lying…

Which meant by this deduction things were narrowed down, for most people the chance of being found out you were the tagger is too stressful to be worth possibly being the only one to live in the end, thus handing it off, which meant there was...what? One in third chance each round the tagger was someone new? There were a few people you had to suspect that could have held the tagger without giving it up. 

The guy towards the middle who was very strangely calm during all of this with very empty looking eyes, and then there was the other man more towards you left who had been calmly de-escalating the situation but you didn’t miss the undertones of manipulation. It was one in third chance they could be holding it. Which meant you’d need to make sure they weren’t.

Walking over you stood more near Hiroko and Ryu as you watched two guys begin arguing again, “Every time I think we’ve made progress, it always ends up getting disturbed.” 

“Well that is the way of the world.” You kept a straight expression at the man who offered a smile that looked so unnatural to his empty eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a bit creeped out at how...insanely calm he was. You could get a sense of tension from at least Chishiya, granted it was most likely from you. 

“I’m Y/n,” You introduced, “Sense we should all be working together I figured it’d be best we at least learn each other's names.” You offered a sweet smile as you wrapped your jacket around yourself in effort to try and look unsuspecting. 

“I see how much anger you have inside you know? It’s quite obvious, from the way you lash out at others when you don’t get the response you want to the way you feel entitled to everyone's feelings, that’s not good for your health you know?” Your lips parted a little at his words, not even offended because...while he was right in some ways...he was very wrong in others, “But I understand your nature is tedious and complex, for all we not the same way?” Okay...this guy was definitely a psychopath, “I’m Sunato Banda, pleased to meet you.” He offered another smile. 

Empty eyes, disturbingly calm demeanor, even with your lives on the line he wasn’t disturbed at all, it wasn’t that he didn’t care. He just wasn’t affected, at all, like this could be a walk in the park for him. 

Psychopath, definitely. 

You’d need to be careful if tagger got in his possession otherwise he’d lie straight through his teeth and he’d never blink twice about it and you and everyone else would be unsuspecting about it.

“Well, us humans are very complex,” You nodded offering yet another smile making effort to look almost starstruck at his very poor deduction skills, again, somewhat correct, otherwise wrong. Afterall, how could someone who feels no remorse, truly understand the complexity of human nature? “Do you by any chance know who the tagger would be?” 

You’d need to make yourself look weak, pliable, if you were to get any use out of this guy, all he knew was how to do was take advantage of people, obviously, Banda offered a sly smile as he looked out over the room, his eyes washing over everyone, “Him,” He pointed a finger, “He keeps adjusting his coat as if he has something placed in there that’s uncomfortable.” 

You followed his line of sight to what looked like a business man in a suit and bowler hat, he did in fact, look quite nervous, “And why not call him out?” You asked, tilting your head exaggerated as you brimmed with curiosity. 

Banda turned to face you, a bright smile on his face as he closed his eyes, “Well I personally hope he’ll tag me next, I quite enjoy seeing a large build up in bodies.” 

..Oh...oh wow…

You gave a small nod, forcing a smile as you held yourself before excusing yourself from him, well, at least it definitely wasn’t him for now. Otherwise you’d be in trouble right now. And now you had a prime suspect. Some could overthink that and argue that perhaps he was lying just to get you off his trail. But personally? There was no way it’d be him, he wouldn’t do something like that. You got the feeling Banda, was a simple man. 

You turned to find the two guys from before who were tussling suddenly growl, one throwing a punch and before he could even fully hit the guy a deep red laser broke through the ceiling, you were frozen for a half a second at the sight of it shooting through the top of his head. Everyone was quiet as they looked down at the sight of a now dead body. 

Right...that was a rule, violence was prohibited. 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

You scurried back to your seat, sitting down as you pulled up your blindfold, “It’s that guy wearing the dumb bowler hat.” Your head looked towards you left despite not being able to see, Chishiya’s voice was quiet as he spoke, “While you were busy wasting time, I watched the real tagger- that school girl place it in his back pocket.” 

“The tagger can do that during the round?” You whispered back perplexed at the idea, how could you have missed that? Unless...she placed it right as you approached Banda? Thus him seeing the man realize he had been tagged and now nervously adjusting himself?

“There aren't any rules stating otherwise, makes it fair game.” Chishiya replied, he immediately quieted at the sound of footsteps tapping on the floor, they were definitely on your side of the ring. Your breath hitched a little at feeling something press against your forehead. Oh shit before the sound of footsteps walked away. 

“We just need to watch for him next round.” Chishiya spoke once more as you leaned back in your seat, trying to find a reason for why you just felt what you did. 

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now. Final round will be next round” 

You hurriedly took yours off as you flipped it over looking down at it, 

Tagger

Motherfucker. 

You quickly grabbed it off, at first trying to push it into your pocket only to realize they were fake. God you hated women’s clothing, your eyes shot to the clock that only had five seconds left, with nowhere to put it you shoved it down your bra as you collected yourself. Okay you...you could make this work. 

But now you were presented with a plethora of options. You honestly didn’t think it would be passed off to you. But now...you...you could keep it...You stood up as the scoreboard went off, but...Everyone else would die. Or...you could confess and you’d die. These options were not great. Next round was the last round, so if you gave it up...you’d be reassuring someone’s victory. 

You stood next to Chishiya as his eyes kept with the man from before with the bowler hat, “He might have gotten it passed back to him.” His eyes narrowed a little onto the guy. 

Do you find a way to discreetly tell him? Or would that also count as a confession…? It wouldn’t be a confession if you made yourself suspect. But...you couldn’t honestly trust Chishiya, not after his unstable display of distrust in you. 

“He could be,” You replied, leaning in a little as you watched him, he appeared relieved once more, he was the one freaked out about this after all...you felt a brief wave of guilt inside you at what your mind had suddenly come up with. 

With Chishiya’s suspect still on the man, all you needed to do was plant it back on him and pressure a confession out of him next round. 

You were very much going to hell after this. 

“He was the one that started accusing last round too and made someone die,” You hummed as you stuffed your hands in your pocket, “That guy also thought it was him. He’s definitely good at reading people,” You thought back to the way he tried to read you, which was somewhat accurate, but people like you and him, you couldn’t always accurately read each other. Except you weren’t insane like him, “At this point we don’t have much to lose.” 

You could see the cogs turning in Chishiya’s head as he stared menacingly at the man who looked at him and jolted a little at such an intense stare, “If I were the tagger by this point,” You were treading on very thin ice at the moment, “I’d keep it just for myself, instead passing it off. He’s gone this far without anyone really pressuring him. It’d be the smartest move by now.” 

“Then we’ll settle on him.” Chishiya replied, his gaze cold as he glared down at the man who mindlessly fixed his tie, trying to look cool despite being intimidated, clearly. He had a weak mentality, if you couldn’t break him next round, Chishiya most definitely would. 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

You supposed he was good for something even when you couldn’t trust him. 

Sitting down in your chair you put your blindfold on and waited a second before taking it back off, standing back up as you carefully stepped as quietly as you could, pulling the Tagger out of your bra before you walked over to the man who had just tagged you before pressing it against his blindfold, you watched his lips quiver as he let out a quiet, “Please…!” 

Your expression went cold as you turned around, glancing at the clock before you walked away and sat back down in your chair, putting your blindfold back on as you waited for the announcer once more. 

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now. Final round.” 

You took the blindfold off, looking down feeling content at the Player tag as you stood up along with Chishiya who’s eyes went between you and the man before he pushed his hands back into his pockets, “If you’re all done pointing fingers and wasting time,” His gaze became a little more cool as he spoke, “Then we should go ahead and show who the real tagger is.” 

Both you and Chishiya glanced at the man who was now looking insanely nervous, sweat dripping down his neck and if this wasn’t life or death, you would’ve felt a little bad...Some parts of you still did, but it was either all of you or just him. 

“He does look pretty nervous.” Hiroko narrowed her eyes on him and from this moment forward you knew it was game over for him, quite literally. With all three of you there was no way he’d survive, crossing your arms you lifted your chin a little, “Say, weren’t you the one who got really defensive when the finger got pointed at you last round?” 

“I’m…!” He flailed a little, wiping his brow with his hand as he suddenly pointed an accusing finger at you, “It’s her you want! She’s a manipulative bitch!” You pressed your hand against your chest in fake hurt as you raised your brows, “She’s the one pitting everyone against me when she’s really the tagger. She’s going to leave you all to die.” 

The majority of eyes fled to you as you shrugged, “Why would I do that when I could just give it to you?” You gave a wickedly sweet smile as you giggled a little, “And watch it all go down. I mean, you must be agreeing now?” You raised your brows as you goaded, “About being the tagger?” 

“I…!” He struggled with his words, now glaring at you as you raised your brows once more as you shook your head, “I…! Now you’re just doing this on purpose! Trying to get into everyone's head and make everyone die! Can’t- can’t you see what she’s doing!” He cried out as he backed away from everyone. 

“I dunno’ you seem pretty guilty to me.” Akari shrugged as she poked her tongue into her cheek, not looking the least bit remorseful for the guy as she leaned her weight onto one side. 

“I get it,” You shrugged as you laughed a little, “You’re probably that kinda guy who’s never really stood up for himself, you probably got bullied as a kid and let yourself get run over by people all the time, even now, and now in desperation you attempt to hold your own and yet...” You tilted your head with a frown as you mocked, “You still can’t do anything right. I guess that goes to show, that people like you just never have a spine. If you can’t assert yourself now with your life on the line, you might as well die now. Because let’s face it, people like you only end in two ways, either spineless pathetic existence or you become the abuser out of a sick need to regain what you lost as a kid.” 

Reverse psychology, worked in the most simplistic ways. 

That seemed to get him to snap, you watched his eyes dilate and pure unfurled rage cross his expression as he shrieked, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You know nothing about my life! You know nothing about me! And because I’m the tagger I’ll get to watch all you pathetic people die! Who’s in control now!?” 

It’s a shame he couldn’t take control of his life in any other circumstance. 

Everyone paused and even he himself paused at the realization, his eyes welled with tears that made something deep in your heart lurch, your eyes squinting a little as your expression wilted a little as the red laser broke through the roof shooting him straight through the top of his head. His body crumpling to the ground. 

‘Game Cleared’

Everyone was still for a moment before you looked down at the blindfold and then to your hands, the memory hazy yet the memory of red staining them still so clear as you felt ringing in your ears and your vision blur for a moment as you let the fabric slip through your fingers. Running a hand through your hair you wrapped your arms around your jacket as you walked past the body, briefly looking at the once timid man who obviously let others run his life.

“Sorry.” You whispered quietly as you stepped over the corpse, “Come on, let’s go. I don’t wanna stay around here.” You looked towards the other three who nodded, also looking semi apprehensive as well. 

Now that the moment was over, the cruel reality was back to remind you that you just gaslit someone into admitting their own suicide. It was hard to not feel innately disgusted with yourself despite your reasoning that you and all of your friends would’ve died if you had. Still, what you did was okay. You were supposed to help people like him, not encourage them to snap. 

If you didn’t feel conflicted before you certainly felt conflicted now, looking at the register you ignored the visa print as you grabbed the playing card off the table. 

And as if mocking, this was only a three of hearts. You couldn’t imagine what higher level games looked like with this. You’d definitely need to be careful in the future, “Y/n! Come on, let’s go!” You looked behind at Hiroko nodding towards the exit. 

“You guys go on, I’ll catch up later.” You looked down at the card again, Hiroko frowned at your figure, wanting to say something but she understood, the first few days of the Borderlands were never easy. With that, she left. Besides you needed to get changed before you headed for the beach again. 

Walking out of the exit you grabbed your bag that was, just as you anticipated, still against the wall, leaning down you opened it up as you began digging through to try and find your bathing suit top. Stuffing the card inside you furrowed your brows, why did the electricity have to go out so soon? 

“You could’ve kept the tagger and won but you didn’t. Why?” 

You paused your search at the sound of Chishiya’s voice, sounding like he was- not interrogating you but definitely investigating. You resumed once more as you shrugged, “I could’ve.” You agreed, and it did cross your mind after all, “I thought about it,” You admitted right after as you pulled out the swimsuit top, “But maybe to some degree you were right,” You stood up as you turned to face him, “I am spilling emotion constantly. And if there was a chance I could’ve saved all of us in turn for one? It didn’t seem like that big of a reach to do really…” You looked away from him as you grabbed your neck, feeling a bit sheepish, “It was by chance you had spotted him before and it was by luck that I was given tagger for the last round. I knew all you needed was just mutual confirmation in your assessment before initiating the end.” 

You sighed as you looked down at the elastic material in your hand as you frowned, “For what it’s worth, I would’ve probably done it to him regardless of whether he had been the tagger or not. It doesn’t take much to break the weakest link. That’s probably the saddest part to be honest.” 

You grabbed your backpack off the ground as you looked up at Chishiya before back towards the entrance where others slowly began to filter out, “I doubt he even realized the trap I set him up for,” You smiled wryly as you shook your head, “People are so easy to mislead, I forget sometimes, the power that can hold.” 

You turned around, intending to go change, “What were you before all of this?” You looked back at Chishiya, his gaze cool as ever and his eyes scanning over you as if in search for an answer that didn’t exist. Briefly your heart jumped in nervousness, did you dare tell the truth? 

Laughing you let out a sigh what was the use in hiding in this world? There were no laws and honestly, who could judge you? “I was a prostitute.” You looked away, feeling somewhat bashful as you awkwardly rubbed your neck, you could tell that was not what Chishiya had been expecting you to say.

 “Oh…!” Your lips parted suddenly feeling even more stupid at the realization that was not what he meant by his question, “You...You probably meant what I’m majoring in...sorry. Uh-” You gave him an apologetic smile that was more out of your sake of humiliation as assuming. Clearing your throat you turned back over your shoulder as you gave him one last look, holding up the three of hearts as you answered, “I’m a major in psychology ♡ ” 

[whumpersdump]

Project Rebirth - CH3: Storage

This chapter is heavily inspired by The Machine from @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi (which is awesome, btw. Whumperflies each time I’ve read it). There is also a brief implication that such a thing exists in this work’s universe.

Also I should mention beforehand, the whumpee’s “youth” is mentioned by whumper, but they are not a minor.

[ Previous ] -- [ Masterlist ]

TW: forced intubation / loss of bodily autonomy /restraints / muzzle / blindfold / pet whump (institutionalized) / dehumanization / drugging (brief, though on the graphic side. Two sentences) / sensory deprivation / starvation (mentioned, non-graphic) / intimate whumper (I think?)

Subject One / Whumpee’s POV. Whumper and his staff need time to prepare the program based on the evaluation. During the short second stage of the Project, the pet has to be stored away. Of course, with pets, no time can be wasted. So, Whumper has found a use for it. Instead of being locked in cage for days, Subject One will be locked in their mind.

Whumpee trashed against the restraints as whumper pushed them through the hall. The jacket was looser now, they basked in the extra breathing room. Toby had given them something that made their muscles all weak, but they fought that like they fought everything else.

They hadn’t found a way out yet, but it wouldn’t take long. They were used to straitjackets and restraints. Drugs, not so much. Most trainers didn’t have the budget. Most trainers had never seen someone like them. Whumper thought he he could break them, but whatever horrors he inflicted, Whumpee would find a way to let it fuel their rage instead.

When Toby split off into another hall, that only became easier. Now they wouldn’t have to listen to the feigned concern in his voice. And the name. Subject One. They had many names over the years. It was the only thing they submitted to. They didn’t have their own anyway. Not that they remembered. This one sucked the most. It wasn’t even a name. Toby never lied, he was too much of a goody-two-shoes for that. They were getting a new one.

Whumper opened a door to a white room. He clicked Whumpee in place and looked down on them. “This’ll only be for a few days, so we won’t bother with food. Use your time wisely,” he warned. “Thoughts can help the learning process a lot.”

He leaned down and began re-tightening all the restraints and the jacket. They were tighter than before. Whumpee couldn’t move at all anymore when Whumper was finished. They’d still come out on top, though. Just watch. 30 escapes, they could make 31.

Whumper turned on a camera. “Don’t mind this,” he said. “You are a test subject after all.” He cleared his throat and faced the camera. “Welcome to stage 2,” he told it. He went on about the specifics and all the reasons he wasn’t talking about them for ages, before turning back to Whumpee.

“Now, usually we don’t put subjects as young as Subject One on tier 3. Normally younger pets respond well enough to the large amount of restraints, and the impressiveness of this operation. It’s not my favorite method, but it’s rather easy to replace their youthful defiance with fear.”

Stupid to think the two can’t exist at the same time, Whumpee thought.

Whumper continued. “With this one, that would cause the opposite effect. This one we’re cutting slack. For the duration of their storage here they can fight as much as they like. We’re prepared for it. No punishments, no threats. This one will need to get worse before they can get better.”

He pushed a button on the wall.

Whumpee’s pulse skyrocketed as they began to tilt backward. “First, the earpieces.” He pushed two blobs into Whumpee’s ears that—despite their small size—blocked any and all sound. Then, he removed the muzzle.

Bad choice. Whumpee screamed and cursed as loud as they could. Sure, Whumper wanted them to. They didn’t care. They always fought. That way they could never be tricked into doing the opposite. They never heard themselves struggle, but Whumper did. That didn’t stop him though. He smiled, turned to the camera and continued speaking until he turned back around holding a small tube.

Whumpee shuddered, understanding what was about to happen. What was about to be taken.

It wasn’t the first time they would be trapped like this. With their chest rising and falling at someone else’s commands. There was a trainer once. A private one. Like all the others, it didn’t work. Or… it didn’t last. They’d been trapped for months, multiple times. No wonder they almost broke. They had a talent, though. They could build themselves back up. It only took them a week last time. They could do it again.

The intrusion came through their nose, first. They fought it. The foreign object whumper plunged down. Every second of it they gagged, and chocked, and pushed against it. It didn’t budge, they knew it wouldn’t. When was in, Whumper squeezed their cheek and reached for a small device Whumpee didn’t recognize. It pricked into their neck, and fastened like their collar did.

Whumpee couldn’t move their head because of all the straps, but they still caught a glimpse of the clear liquid that sunk through small tubes, toward their neck. Their body went limp, for the second tube. Whumpee couldn’t fight it. The flow toward their neck had stopped already, but it hadn’t worn off yet. Whumper pushed it down their throat effortlessly. But the air didn’t come yet. Whumpee had to live off tiny breaths for what felt like eternity.

Whumper held the tube up and picked a strange muzzle off a table. It had two straps at the back, and and two holes in the middle. The edges were lined with a soft plastic. Whumper weaved the largest tube through one of the holes, followed by the smaller one in their nose, and pushed the muzzle against whumpees face. He buckled the two straps. One around the back of their head, and one over the top.

Their breath returned, no thanks to their own efforts. Whumpee’s chest moved up and down, along with the rhythm the object in their throat demanded. There was no defying it. They tried. All they managed to do was tire themselves. Nonetheless, they kept fighting. Even if it didn’t work, they would never be so weak as to stop. They didn’t care Whumper didn’t mind. They fought. They always did.

Whumper leaned over them with a mask. It had a pre-shaped top—that would go over their head—and a strap at the bottom. The last part, Whumpee read of his lips. Which was likely the reason for said mask. The tried to turn their head, but they were stuck. Stuck under the restraints, the foreign rhythm in their breath. Whumper’s lips shushed them, though Whumpee couldn’t hear the sound.

The mask went over their eyes, perfectly molded to their face. It forced them shut with a dull pressure. Even blinded by the mask itself, they couldn’t open them. The top of the mask fit perfectly on top of their head. It couldn’t shift down. The bottom strap clicked to the other ones that lied in their neck. It couldn’t shift at all.

They couldn’t see, hear, feel. They didn’t have to worry about breathing. Thoughts, Whumper had talked about. No. They wouldn’t be alone with their thoughts. They were stronger than that. Breathing. Resisting. That was what they did.

They fell asleep. That was their mistake. Whumper had kept them up for days at a time with all the tests and questions. Now they fell asleep, and their breath complied. With Whumper. They fought. Until every muscle went sore, they fought. Until everything hurt, they fought. They lost their breath for a second when they shifted the tube. Over and over. Until a pressure on the muzzle pushed it in the right position, and they couldn’t fight it again.

Even worse, their stomach rumbled. They hadn’t eaten in days even before this situation, and this didn’t help. They fought against the feeling like they fought everything else, but it didn’t end. So they ignored it. This was temporary. Whatever the real procedures behind this program of Whumper’s were, they would find a way to come out on top.

Though Whumpee had no way to track the time, their stomach told them they had been there for a while, after they woke up for the second time. Memories floated through their head. Memories the trainers had tried so desperately to extinguish. Memories Whumpee had tried so desperately to extinguish. Memories that made them shake even if their entire outfit was designed to prohibit it.

They couldn’t feel anything other than the fabric of the jacket over their body. Even that feeling faded. Touch. That was what had made Toby so annoying. He kept touching them. Little squeezes, or a stroke over their head. Whumpee wanted to gag at the thought, but in the past month they’d gotten used to it. Now, they missed it.

The silence made it worse. They cried, they whimpered, they sobbed. But heard none of it. They’d never hidden their fears. Never had to. They chose fight. Always. No matter what happened, they would fight. They would always end back up into someone’s hands, but still, they fought. This though, was getting harder and harder to fight with each second that passed.

They were tired, full in their head. Their mind was loud, their body rigid and tense. They needed calm, they wanted calm. They craved calm.

“Subject One,” a voice in their head said. No, that wasn’t right. It was in their ears. The earpieces. The voice came through again, freeing them from days of utter and complete silence. “Tonight is your turn to be Reborn.”

Whumpee shuddered, then fought.

~

Taglist, I guess?

@suspicious-whumping-egg @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Things We Supposedly Lost in the Fire

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Grief, barely suicidal thoughts, fire

-Words: 4K

Author note: Tom and Y/N don’t really age, I think of them as like Barbie and Ken, never aging. Final chapter will be up tonight around 9-10 PM PST. Sorry for the wait, you guys are so patient. Love ya.

Chapter 16: Things We Supposedly Lost in the Fire

Words: 4K

There you were, standing alongside your husband, daughter and friend as the building before your eyes erupted in a blaze. Smashing windows as the remaining members of Wilson’s mob, funneled their way out of the burning warehouse. Coughing up all the inhaled smoke.

One by one, people bursted out of the doors gasping for fresh air. Their lungs constricted from the dark ash that bled through the sky. You just stood there, next to your family, taking in the sight before you. As sirens rang through the air

The smoke and flames kept raging on, but there was still no sign of Parker.

That was 5 days ago. Now, you were in the present, trying to survive. The fire that took 3 days to put out, claimed the lives of your son Parker, Carter Wilson and multiple men.

Everyone was dealing with Parker’s demise differently. Harrison and Henry had so generously offered to stay with all of you for the time being. You took them up on that.

You refused to leave your room for a week, barely acknowledging Tom and Rosie. Tom would try to get some reaction from you, but you would lay there, catatonic. Oblivious to the outside world. Maybe coming down for a cup of coffee but then heading straight up back to your room.

Parker was your baby boy, words couldn’t express how you were feeling. A piece of you was missing.

You would walk down stairs and catch a glimpse of all the photographs perched everywhere, showcasing you, Tom, Rosie and Parker’s greatest moments. Everything reminded you of him.

The car keys flooded back memories of first teaching him how to drive. You were so scared. Every parent feels the same but it is hard to relinquish control of your car and put your life in someone else’s hands. You would flinch anytime he broke a little too hard. Always pushing on your imaginary brake.

“Ok, now put the car in drive. Make sure you keep your foot on the brake.” You began, instructing Parker how to drive.

You thought it be best if Tom taught Rosie and you taught Parker how to drive. You didn’t need twice the amount of heart attacks. “Ok, what next?” Parker asked after shifting from park gear to drive gear. Or so he thought.

“Give it a little gas now.” “Ok….” Parker barely touched the accelerator and the car shot backwards.

“PARKER! AAAAHHHHH!” You screamed as he lost control of the car. He slammed so hard on the brake, sending you flying into the dashboard. Your head knocked into the front, instantly creating a splitting headache.

“Oh, mom are you okay?” Parker questioned, preparing himself for your outburst.

“No, switch seats I’m driving home. That’s enough for today. The problem was you were in reverse and you hit the brake way too hard.” You explained with a calm voice, inside you were seething with anger. Pressing your hand to your head to try and subside your head.

“How did I know R stood for reverse, it could have been the R in drive?” Parker mocked sarcastically. “Honey, I love you but your dad is going to teach you from now on.”

You drove home safely and immediately went to the kitchen for an ice pack. Your head was throbbing. Tom greeted you, he was reading in the living room.

“How did the first lesson go?” Tom asked, noticing the scowl with adorned your face.

“Why don’t you ask Parker?” You snapped, pressing the cool ice pack to the soon to be bump on your head.

“Ok.… Parker any idea what your mom is talking about?” Tom inquired, knowing to not press you with anymore questions.

“I may have gone a little too fast and slammed on the brake,” Parker mumbled

“There’s more to that story,” you barked. Of course Parker was leaving the part of going in reverse instead of drive.

“I may have picked the wrong gear…” Parker divulged.

“HE WAS IN REVERSE!! NOT DRIVE!!” You shouted.

“Oh—“ Tom started to say but was cut off by you again.

“And then when he braked, he stopped so hard my head hit the dashboard.” You explaining, throwing your hands up in fury to point at your head. Tom started to chuckle. He tried to suppress a laugh but you were not having it.

“Are you laughing?” You thundered.

“Umm… no.” Tom’s entire expression totally changed as he saw the daggers you were shooting him.

“Tom, it’s not funny. Our son doesn’t know the difference between drive and reverse.”

“Guys, I’m still right here.” Parker chimed in as you spoke of him as if he wasn’t in the room.

“SAY SOMETHING!” You snapped at Tom’s defeating silence.

“Parker be more careful next time.” Tom explained to Parker.

“That’s it? Seriously?… Next time, you drive with him and you will feel my frustration and pain.” You sighed, giving up on this fight.

Life was so much simpler then, you were just trying to raise two wonderful kids. Helping them along the path of life, but there are always detours. You never expected life to have this many bumps. You especially didn’t expect your son to not live a full life. One full of wonder and joy.

Tom had his own way of mourning. He began to relish in his kills, channeling all his emotion into running the mob. Spending night after night bashing in skulls. Coming home with blood drenched clothes.

You understood everyone worked through their grief differently but his way seemed unhealthy. Tom had a few quarrels with anyone associated with the Wilson mob. He blamed them for the death of Parker.

Tom was currently, in his warehouse torturing some poor sap who was a well known capo of the Wilsons. “Tom, give it up. He’s not going to talk,” Haz told Tom as the continued to torture one of Wilson’s soldiers in front of him.

Carter had died along with Parker in the fire and Tom didn’t really know who the new leader was. All he knew is that he still wanted revenge.

“He’s right, you should just kill me. I know to keep my mouth shut unlike your dead son,” the soldier barked, warranting a swift strike to the jaw.

“Don’t you ever fucking mention him again. Your leader killed him. I should do the same to you to receive a smidge of compensation,” Tom snarled as he wrapped his hands around his throat, cutting off his airway completely.

“Tom, come on. He’s not worth it. Let him go,” Haz pleaded as the man started to turn blue.

“Haz, I can’t. How can I let him walk free, when he is the reason Parker is dead?” Tom explained, loosening his hands.

“That was Carter, not some menial soldier. He probably has a family like you,” Harrison talked Tom down.

“You’re free to go,” Haz concluded as he untied the poor man in front of them. He bolted for the door as quick as possible.

“Haz, I can’t do this. I need Parker here. He was supposed to be doing this. Not me… I feels unreal how much I miss him,” Tom cried.

“I know. We all miss him.”

“I couldn’t even protect my own son. Do you get that? And this can’t be the end. I can’t just move on, knowing I’m supposed to bury him tomorrow,” Tom swore.

“Tom, it will get better,” Harrison consoled him.

“How? I can’t just have an open ended statement. I need a solution. Something to fix this ache in my heart. How can I make this pain go away?” Tom pleaded.

“Tom, there is no answer. You just have to try and work through your grief and eventually move forward.”

“You know, Parker asked me the same thing right after Charlotte died. He needed the pain of her death to be lifted from his shoulders. I told him he needed time, but I lied. I knew he could never move on. That this would stick with him for years to come. That’s how I feel right now. There is no remedy except trying to make those bastards pay. Can you let me do that?” Tom exclaimed.

“Tom, I… yes, I can. Only because I know that is what you need right now. Someone to have your back. And I promise I always will.” Harrison tried to comfort his grieving friend but it was hard. Hard to explain to Tom that it only seemed like his world was ending.

That night Tom came into your shared room looking half dead. He had black eye and bruises that littered all over his body. From that moment you knew you both couldn’t keep living like this. You couldn’t keep shoving down your feelings and refusing to face the world, same with Tom but instead of shutting people out the was instigating fights left and right.

“Tom, I need to talk to you,” you sighed as Tom entered the room

“Yes, baby. Anything. I’m just happy to hear your voice,” Tom replied, surprised you were speaking to him. This was his first verbal conversation with you in days.

“We need to make a change, we can’t keep living like this. It isn’t healthy,” you began but was faced with a heart broken Tom.

“Y/N, don’t say that please,” Tom pleaded.

“Tom, we aren’t moving forward. We’re stuck.”

“No, Y/N we can move on from this. Please don’t leave me.”

“What? Tom, I would never. I need you more than you need me,” you questioned.

“Seriously doubt that. Baby please don’t scare me like that again. If I don’t have you. I don’t have anything,” Tom whispered as he came to your side, wrapping his arms around you.

“Tom, you’ll always have me. But what I was meaning to talk about is, I think you need to step away from the mob for a while. You aren’t dealing with losing Parker healthily. Killing people for sport doesn’t help process your pain.” You said, trying to fight back the tears.

“Y/N, I’m not ready to accept it. He can’t be gone. Our son can’t be gone,” Tom cried out.

“Tom, I’ve been feeling the same way. Instead of working through our grief together, we’ve been fighting our own battles and it is doing more damage than good. I’m drowning here, I need you. I need you next to my side to help me through this because I wake up most mornings and have thoughts that I should never think about. Like I don’t want to live this life anymore or live at all.”

“Love, I didn’t know. Y/N, I don’t ever want you feeling that way.”

“I know but I don’t want to feel this way either. We need to get away. Eventually far from the mob, maybe travel like you always wanted to,” you sniffled, wiping away tears.

“Y/N, you know I want that but, I can’t just leave. Our life is here,” Tom explained.

“I’m not saying now. But I can’t live out my days in this house, all I see is him and everything that we’ve lost. I can’t do it anymore. It’s killing me. Don’t you see that? I need to know that we will have our happy ending somewhere other than here. Once Rosie has graduated. In three years, we leave. Please give me that, you pleaded.

“Y/N, I promise. In 3 years we can start our happily ever after.” Tom agreed. You finally had a date in mind. You needed to find happiness somewhere else that wasn’t tainted with Parker’s memory.

Everyone was suffering, Rosie however was very good at hiding it. She was the rock when Parker passed. She knew if the roles were reversed, Parker would be there for everyone.

She threw herself in the mob and other aspects, refusing to let herself break down like the rest of her family. She was mostly consoling Henry. Henry had a hard time adjusting to life without his best friend. He tried to be strong for Rosie but nights she would find him crying himself to sleep.

“Are you coming to bed?” Rosie asked as Henry was held up in living room.

“I don’t think so just yet, I have to finish this,” Henry sighed in frustration, while lounging on the couch.

“What is it?” Rosie asked, coming over to snuggle with him.

“Parker’s eulogy. Did you finish your’s?”

“Umm, yeah I did.” Rosie responded, in reality she hadn’t even thought about it. Planning on making it up as she went tomorrow.

“It’s just killing me. To actually think of him as gone, especially because of tomorrow. I’m not ready to say goodbye,” Henry cried, trying to fight back tears.

“I know. I miss him too,” Rosie responded. Henry started breaking into a fit of sobs and Rosie moved to comfort him. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Why are you not sadder? I haven’t once seen you break down, like everyone else,” Henry sniffled.

“I don’t know, maybe I just went through the stages of grief quicker. I’ve already accepted it.”

“Ok well, glad you aren’t as sad as me. Then we would have two blubbering messes. I know this probably a huge turn off,” Henry muttered, stopping to blow his nose. She chuckled in response but Rosie knew something was off. She shed a few tears looking at the building blazing that night but she hadn’t cried since.

Quickly changing the subject to not seem like a heartless wrench she asked. “What are you writing about? Can I have a sneak peek?”

“That’s the hard part, I was trying to think of a story about Parker and I’s friendship but I keep coming up blank. Either he wasn’t actually my best friend or I’ve just repressed all memories about him.”

“Oh baby—,“

“It’s ok. I’m okay.… I’m sorry Roo, but could you help me?”

“Of course, what do you have so far?” “I have the title “Parker’s eulogy,” and that’s it,” Henry said, reading off the words written on the paper he had been staring at for an hour.

“Oh okay, well. Maybe you should talk about a funny story between the two of you.”

“Ok, I have one. Once upon a time…”

“Henry, you can’t start a eulogy with once upon a time.”

“You didn’t let me finish, once upon a time I met this boy and he had the most adorable, and at the same time, beautiful sister. She is so perfect in so many ways. I grew hopelessly in love with her. To this day I still am.”

“Aww, as much as I love that story it barely mentions Parker.”

“Roo, it’s too hard. I can’t sit here and reminisce all the times we spent together. I can’t write down stories that I’ve already lived. I can’t tell them to others and start referring to him as a ‘was’ and not a ‘is’. I’m not capable of telling the story of how one year where both our families went skiing, Parker and I snuck on a black diamond slope without permission and both ended up with a broken leg. Or the story of how I knew Parker and I would be best friends forever, I shouldn’t be the only one telling it, he should be here too. It’s not fair. Why could’ve it been me?”

“Henry, don’t say that. I don’t know what I’d do without you. But that seems like a good anecdote, write about that.”

“Rosie, you don’t get it. I can’t, I physically can’t do it… I’m sorry but I don’t understand why you aren’t sad. It’s weird. My best friend is dead and the weird part is that HE WAS YOUR BROTHER and you don’t even seem the least bit bothered by it,” Henry thundered, his sad voice morphing into an accusatory one. “Sorry, I was just trying to help…. I’ll see you tomorrow, night.” Rosie finished quickly excusing herself without so much as a goodnight kiss. She knew Henry was going through something but he didn’t have to take it out on her. She quickly made her way to bed and waited for the next day to come.

The day no one was actually prepared for.

The day of Parker’s funeral. Everyone’s final goodbye to your son.

Everyone managed to dress appropriately, in all black to symbolize your mourning. The day however was rather beautiful, a bright blue streaked across ever corner of the sky. Not a single cloud in sight, which was near impossible thing in London. Parker would’ve loved a day like this. For one he wouldn’t be at a funeral, especially not his own. He would be at the beach or going for a bike ride under the gorgeous sun.

The weather kind of taunted you. How dare the day be beautiful the day you bury your son. You knew it was silly but it felt like a cosmic joke of some sorts.

People started gathering at the cemetery. Nikki, Dom, Harry, Sam and Paddy were already there to help you and everyone else get through that day.

Nikki was mostly concerned with helping Rosie. She knew you had been a little checked out lately, no fault of your own, you were grieving. Nikki just wanted to make sure Rosie was dealing with her emotions, not shoving them aside.

“Rosie, I understand if the eulogy will be too hard. I can read it for you,” Nikki offered, catching a glance of Rosie going over he eulogy underneath a tree. “No, it’s ok. I should be the one to do it,” Rosie exclaimed.

“Parker would understand. All your emotions couldn’t be more valid. Have you allowed yourself to cry over him yet?” “Don’t worry I did. Odd question though, thought you’d be wanting me to be strong. I have been for everyone else.” “Rosie, you don’t have to with me. I’m here for you, flower.”

“I’m fine grandma, I should check on mom.”

“It’s okay, I’ll send Harry,” Nikki concluded, grabbing her phone to shoot Harry a text.

“Mom, I gonna get Y/N to eat something” Harry said, calling out to Nikki.

“Really, how?” “I came prepared. Granted it is only chocolate but baby steps. How’s Rosie? Is she freaking out about the eulogy?”

“She says she can handle it. I believe her. I just don’t know where that girl got all her strength. Certainly not from us.”

“I have a clue…” Harry explained, his eyes wandering to you sitting in the front row.

“Come on, the proceedings are about to start.” Nikki said, pulling her son to meet everyone else, atop the small hill.

The person officiating the ceremony was standing behind a chestnut colored casket, about to be lowered into the ground. There were 3 chairs, for you, Tom, and Rosie. Everyone else stood as they witnessed Parker be lowered into his final resting place.

Tears manage to fall throughout the entire day, but they came more frequently as Rosie stood up to deliver her eulogy. Rosie somberly walked near the casket, passing the dozens of roses on top. She was clutching to her note cards, her guideline to the hardest goodbye ever.

“My brother was the greatest person I ever knew. He had already dealt with so much loss, it is unfair that we are gathered here today to mourn him. I’ve been trying to think of what to say, maybe an amusing anecdote or embarrassing story. Maybe one where he demonstrated bravery. But I think I’ll just say what all of us having been thinking. It feels unreal that he is gone. He was my twin and I can honestly say not having him beside me, feels like a piece of me is missing.” Rosie began, fighting back the urge to cry.

“He would always manage to bring a smile to my face even the darkest of times. I’ve celebrated every birthday with him, every school event, my entire life with him. We were supposed to be the same age till the end of time together. I miss him more than I can bare but we have a chance to honor him and not mourn, it is what he would have wanted. My brother was always there for me, especially at my weakest. From carrying me into the house after I fell on my tricycle and skinned my knee to comforting me with cupcakes and ice cream after a break up. We all need that person in our lives. And Parker was my anchor, my savior and my best friend. If you have that person now, please give them a reminder of how much you love them. Parker and I both know I should I’ve said more often, he the same. I’m sorry P. And with this flower, I finally say goodbye to my guide post, my better half, my brother. We will always miss you.” Rosie finished and quickly wiped the tears that had fallen with the back of her hand.

She glanced over at you, bailing into Tom’s shoulder. Her words moved you to a whole other level of grief. This whole time you had been grieving for yourself. It’s not selfish, but you realized just how bad everyone else was hurting.

After the funeral, everyone made it back to the manor for the reception. Hors d’oeuvres made their way around to guests, conveniently managing to skip you. Harry was still getting on your nerves, hoping you’d eat something.

Harry would constantly bring food beneath your nose, waving an assortment of healthy snacks and candy in front of your face. He was determined to get you to eat something even if chocolate melted in his suit pockets.

“Hey, Y/N/N. How are you holding up?” Harry asked, finding you staring blankly into space. “I’ve definitely been better,” you responded, chuckling at your current state.

“Y/N, can you please eat something?” Harry asked, shoved food in your face. “I’m fine, thank you though,” you blatantly stated, probably for the tenth time.

“Come on, I have your favorite,” Harry smirked. “You have MnM’s?” you quipped, your ears perking up.

“Yes…”

“Ok give them to me.” You nearly lunged to grab the bag from his hands. In truth you had been starving yourself, you were hungry but couldn’t find the will to eat. Sweets were sure better than the fancy finger food your cook was serving.

Everyone else seemed to be within their own world. Tom had immediately gone back to talking shop, more like who are we gonna kill next week. People seemed to disappear, one in particular, Rosie. You asked Henry, to try and find her. He scoured the house in search of her and eventually found her in Parker’s room. For days the door had been locked, no one wanted to confront the reality of his bed not being slept in or his clothes not worn. It would reaffirm that he is gone and it was going to take a long time to heal.

“Rosie? You in here?” Henry whispered, knocking softly on the door. It creaked opener evening a distraught Rosie, crying on her bed.

Tears streamed down her face as she croaked out, “Hi.”

“Oh, Rosie,” Henry consoled as he moved to embrace her. She broke into a fit of sobs.

“He’s gone. He said he was right behind me,” Rosie looked up, with puffy red eyes.

“Shhh, it’s ok. I’m here,” Henry said, moving to bring her in his arms.

“I should’ve never left him behind. I keep blaming myself. If I never left him, he would still be here.”

“Roo, baby. You can’t do that.”

“I know, I know but I can’t do this. I’m not ready for him to be gone,” Rosie cried, into Henry’s suit. Tears never bothered to stop coming. She completely broke with him, all the pain and grief she had been hiding was now in the spotlight. Rosie wasn’t ready for a goodbye, none of you were.

Everyone eventually came to the same conclusion, that all the scars in your heart will heal with time. Even though the sadness never fades, you learn to grow with it.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @dummiesshort @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @allthisfortommy @bi-lmg @quaksonhehe @housepartyprotocol

[otonymous]

A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part I: A Matter Of Convenience

Description: An extraordinary man arrives to shake up your ordinary life Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings: robberies and mentions of firearms, physical violence, mild depictions of bodily injury, blood and masturbation, profanity Word Count: 1650 words (~8 mins of action, drama and the start of a slow burn 🔥)  Author’s Notes: This multi-chapter fic is dedicated to the lovely @op-peccatori​​​, one of the winners of my Follower Milestone Celebration!  Thank you so much, Nana, for requesting a mafia AU story starring everyone’s favourite lavender-haired man 😆 This is actually my first time writing an AU fic, and the experience thus far has been incredibly eye-opening and lots of fun!

For this piece, I wanted to localize the AU to better fit the world of MLQC, so instead of using a traditional mafia setting, the events take place in the milieu of the triads and “black societies” that are more likely to be found in corresponding parts of the world.  For those who are interested, Wikipedia has an incredibly comprehensive article on triads and organized crime.

This piece turned out to be much longer than I anticipated and is still ongoing as of the time of this post!  That being said, I hope you’ll join me on this wild ride 😂 As always, wishing you all a very happy read 😊

Jump to Chapter(s): Two | Three | Four

“Put the money in the bag and no one gets hurt.”

A black duffel bag is thrust onto the counter before you, panels wide open like a gaping maw.  You look up at the man in the bomber jacket and the only things you can process are:

One: his nostrils are flaring.

Two: why bother trying to be nondescript by dressing in all black if you’re going to leave your face uncovered during a robbery?

“I ain’t playin’ around, little girl.  Put the goddamn money in the bag right now or else I’ll shoot—”

WHACK!

The man’s eyes widen in the split second before his face crumples, teeth yellowed and uneven protruding in an ugly grimace.  His hand flies to his head, trying to stem the blood already streaking down his face when he collapses onto the counter, taking out a display of collectible miniature keychains next to the register as he does.  They scatter, some rolling across the floor before being stopped by a pair of purple Chuck Taylors tapping out an impatient rhythm on the linoleum.

You look up from those sneakers in a daze, eyes following the silhouette of a pair of jeans so worn in places you doubted the rips and tears were purely for aesthetic purposes.  And if you’d had to guess, you’d say that purple was your saviour’s favourite colour, given the lavender hair that fell over his eyes the moment he pulled back the hood of his sweatshirt, also in a shade of violet.  His other hand — clad in a fingerless leather glove — gripped the skateboard that had just connected with the head of the would-be robber, still groaning before you.

Pop!

You startle at the sound, heart slowing only when you see the pink bubble deflating between the young man’s lips before the gum is pulled back by the tip of his tongue.  And from where you stood — glued to the spot behind the counter — you swear you can detect the hint of cinnamon.  

He crouches, picking up the gun that had slid out of the thief’s hand when he was unceremoniously hit from behind, and when he chuckles — the sound dangerous and cocksure — it ignites something deep within you.

“Tsk, tsk.  Can’t very well go around robbing people with toys guns, now can you?  Especially not on my turf.  Piece of advice: don’t mess with Boss Li’s territory or else I’ll be doing more than just breaking your head the next time around.  Don’t let me catch you here again.”  

Letting out a pathetic whimper, the robber snatches the empty bag from the counter, running for the doors in such haste he almost trips over his own feet.  The electronic refrains of the door chime still ring in your ears when you realize the man has already made his way to the beverage dispenser, one long finger pressing the Pepsi button before switching to Coke, both drinks mixing in the same paper cup.

Smoothly stepping over the mess on the floor, he places the drink on the counter right next to a smear of blood.  Mind still reeling, your customer service instincts take over.

“H-hello.  Just this?”  

He nods, popping a purple straw through the plastic lid before fixing you with his amber eyes as he pays, a hint of a smirk on his face.  And that is when it hits you that he is actually…actually…

…incredibly gorgeous.

An intense wave of heat washes over your face and you can’t help but look down.  By the time you’ve worked up the courage to lift your head again, he is already at the door, merging with the dark night beyond.  He throws up one hand in goodbye, not even bothering to look back when he says, “Relax.  That guy won’t be bothering you again.”

You hear his skateboard hit the pavement, listen to it rolling away.  Only when the sound completely fades do you remember to breathe.

There was a certain tranquility in working late-night shifts at the 24-hour convenience store — aisles empty save for the occasional customer breaking the monotony: high-strung lovers grabbing last-minute condoms and overworked salarymen buying the beer and discounted meals they subsisted on.

And though your coworkers complained bitterly about the graveyard shift, they were more than happy to pass them on to you, making up every excuse as to why they were unable to show up during those times.  It was unnecessary, really.  You didn’t mind it, even preferred the solitary calm it afforded.

Until now.

Your peace has been shattered, replaced by something that made your hands ball into nervous fists — fingers gripping at the hem of your polyester uniform and wondering for the first time ever whether blue stripes made you look ridiculous.

Because for the first time in a very long while, there was something, someone, to look forward to.

Night after night, it’s the same.  Repeated glances at the clock above the magazine rack, your breath growing shallow to see it approach 1:30.  Heart leaping into your throat to hear the automatic doors slide open followed by the scuff of purple sneakers, tracing a path through the store.

Since the night of that foiled robbery attempt a month ago, he has visited like clockwork and you still haven’t figured out how to remain calm.  So you find contentment from behind the safety of the counter, watching the man with lavender hair — soft, even when lit beneath a harsh fluorescent glare as he stands at the drink dispenser, always filling a cup with Pepsi first, then Coke.

Only ever buying the same thing every time.

This strange ritual lasts all of ten minutes, fifteen at most.  And it takes just as long after he leaves for the hairs of your body to cease standing on end, as if electrified by the intensity of his eyes on yours.  

That gaze of molten gold stays with you even when you return home in the early morning hours, pulling blackout curtains across your window before falling into bed to pretend your hands were his: tracing the outline of your lips, caressing the swell of your breasts, dipping between your legs.

And when your breath falters in a quick succession of shudders, you wonder at your own sanity.  Because in spite of your suspicions about the guy with the purple hair, the warning signs that pointed to his obvious involvement with the triads that extorted money from local businesses as ‘protection fees,’ you still couldn’t help but think about the man who visited you every night without fail.

“You’re hurt—”

“I-I’m fine.  Just…just ring this up, will ya?  I’m…in a rush…”

One arm crossed over his abdomen, he places the cup onto the counter as if it took all the concentration in the world — his efforts squandered anyways when his hand spasms at the last minute to send dark liquid sloshing over the lip.  He hadn’t even bothered to put a lid on.

“…Emergency responders have just arrived on scene and are dealing with scores of injuries.  Eyewitnesses describe what appears to have been a violent clash between rival gangs in a longstanding feud over contested territory.  The police are seeking help from the public in locating several key suspects believed to have fled the scene.  Please do not approach them under any circumstances as they are considered armed and dangerous…”

The news anchor’s face on the wall-mounted television is replaced by another: that of a youthful man with lavender hair and multiple piercings on his ears — challenge exuding from amber eyes.  You scramble for the remote on the shelf behind you, mashing the power button until the screen goes black.  And in the eerie silence that descends upon the store, all you can focus on is the laboured breathing of the man slouched before you.

Skin pale, beads of sweat dot a face drained of colour save for the crimson protrusion above his left eye — soon set to transform, ironically, into his favourite shade of purple.  He tries to suppress a cough but it is too late: you’ve already caught sight of the blood spreading out from beneath the palm pressed to his stomach.

“It’s on me tonight.”

The words leave your lips without second thought as you make for the storefront, flipping the light switch even as you reach to turn the lock on the automatic doors.

“No, don’t…don’t get yourself involved…”

Ignoring his protests, you gingerly place his arm over your shoulder, doing your best to support his weight as you make an awkward attempt to hobble together towards the back of the store.

Suddenly, the darkened interior is lit by flashes of red and blue and you are pulled in the direction of the nearest pillar, a strong arm flexed as it tenses around your waist, holding you to him in an intimate embrace.

He is close…so close that your senses are flooded with him: the heartbeat thunderous in your ear, leather and sweat tickling your nostrils; the scent of blood thick enough you can almost taste it on your tongue.  The hand on your hip — grip firm in a way it almost seemed possessive, and you are ashamed to find that you can become aroused even in a situation like this.

When you finally gather the courage to look up at his face — seeking a sign in the tension dissolving from the firm set of his jaw that the police cruiser had passed — you are shocked to see his pale lips stretched into a smirk instead.

“You know...I’ve been coming here every day…for weeks now…and this is the most you’ve ever said to me.”

He is still smiling when he passes out.

Thanks so much for reading!  Hope you all enjoyed it and please stay tuned for part 2!  Check out more of my work here! 📚

(Updated): Jump to Chapter(s): Two | Three | Four

[the-darklings]

coa one year later & self-reflection

(*drags out a creaky metal chair and plops down on it heavily*)

Hi. It’s me, ya boi skinny--

Wait, wrong one. Do over.

Hi, it’s me, Kat, and I’m not dead. Clearly. Today being one year anniversary of COA has kinda put me in a reflective mood, so I guess I decided to sit down and just...talk about some things, thoughts and feelings I’ve been bottling inside for a hot sec. Especially given how radio silent I have gone on here and people deserve a bit of perspective. 

And before anyone starts worrying, it’s all good, and I’m still around and currently in good health for the most part. 

So, let’s take it back to the start. Regardless of how dramatic it may sound, we need to go back a year for that. 

By technicality alone, COA actually turned one year old on October 12th. That’s when the first part was posted. However, the reason I’m treating today as the aforementioned birthday is simple: I had no intention of this story ever being more than a short two-parter. I told this to the discord gang already but COA was only going to have two parts. V was going to die in Tokyo and the rest of the story follows glimpses of John throughout the movies and it’s her ghost that haunts him. Skipping ahead, it was going to have a bittersweet ending of John eventually dying, having completed his task, only to be greeted by V, Daisy and Helen in the afterlife. A peace of sorts. Then, I realised that, well, no. I have more to say on this world and intrigue about this placeholder character V kept growing. 

November 1st happened and I made a very last minute call to continue COA but with the added pressure of doing it during NaNoWriMo 2019. And boy did I. Most of the story was figured out during that very intense month. I posted Part 2 on this day a year ago because I was so eager to share it. Perhaps, in retrospect, a bit too eager. 

For those of you who may not know this, I work as a writer full time for my actual every day job. I’m the main writer for an original webcomic called In the Bleak Midwinter on Webtoon.com and have been for almost two years now. Getting what is essentially your dream job is amazing. I’m very lucky on that front but it also taught me stark realities of having your job and only hobby overlap. It’s a dangerous creative mix. Especially because I was not used to being constraint in what I create or the feeling like I have to please anyone else. Writing as a job is a whole other avenue of creative exhaustion. I love my job a lot and am very, very lucky to have it but it doesn’t change the fact that those initial stages made me fall back on COA a lot for creative freedom that I craved so desperately. To an unhealthy degree looking back on it now. 

But going back to November last year. NaNo time. I did it. Finished on the 24/25th I believe. A juicy final count of 52k+. All while maintaining a weekly update schedule for a fic that usually hit around 10k per update, if not more, even during those early days. Add writing an original story on top of that. Writing every day for hours on end (we are talking 10-12hr days) without any time for other hobbies or time for myself in general. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing. Losing weight and sleep in the process. I think the thing that convinced me that I should continue doing so is the fact that the outpour of support for COA ended up surpassing anything I ever expected or even dared to hope for. I’m not a huge numbers person but the outpour of love and just sheer investment in the story and characters blew me away. John Wick fandom is on the smaller side and has been going through downtime when I posted COA so my expectations were...well, small tbh. I like keeping expectations low to avoid any disappointments in general. But I’ve also always had an issue of being a massive 0 or 100 kind of person. If I love something, it consumes me. In this case, it brought me as much joy and freedom as much as it was steadily pushing me towards the ultimate crash. 

That being said, I can’t thank you all enough for every comment, like, reblog and message and fanart. You’re the reason I got this far. With your support. It brightened some really dark days for me.

But. 

To be frank, it’s never been about you guys. I never wrote or pushed because I felt like I had to appease anyone. That creative mindset is pure poison and I long since learned to let go of it. I kept pushing and kept working myself to the bone because I liked it. I liked how reading peoples’ responses made me feel. I liked the addictive nature of reading all the comments and theories after an update. I loved the idea of brightening peoples’ days and giving them something to cheer them up after what might have been a shitty day. Even if that was at expense of my own time/well being. But for a long time, it wasn’t. I love writing a lot but facts remain facts. 

It was beyond unhealthy and burnout wasn’t a question of if but when and that when was approaching at neck-breaking speed. 

So we come to the end of November. Part 4 has just come out. People were invested and I was invested alongside them. I was just finishing up Part 5 which (back then) was the biggest single chapter I’ve ever written and god I still recall my sheer dread because that was the beginning of Santino being established as a LI. Looking back on that now, it’s downright hilarious how worried I was about the reception of him and V together after John.

So honestly, I hit burnout at around Part 8. Because that’s the first time I recall struggling with writing a chapter. Part 8 came out on December 28th. I had a brief break for holidays. But my mistake was not taking longer back then. Because I continued writing with a barely healed burnout. Followed by almost a year of struggling and continuously creating through that state. It wasn’t like I eased off the pressure, either. Oh, no. The chapters grew in size, the world and the characters with it. AUs amassed quickly and while I adore every single one - again, I didn’t know how to pace myself well enough.

I’m spiteful though. The more the chapters struggled the more I pushed against the burnout. By the time Chicago arrived, however, I knew I was in trouble. I ended up writing 43k+ in a span of 2 months, I believe. And while to some it may not seem like a lot given the time frame, it’s a lot when you’re burnout to a crisp & writing an original story for work + deadlines. Which I was burned out and then some. Chicago was something I was looking forward to writing for months. I have built it up since Part 4. It was a long time coming. So while I’m still proud of it, I would be lying if I said that some scenes were not sacrificed for the sake of keeping to my invisible schedule that no one but me actually cared about. You guys have always been patient. I never felt pushed into anything. It’s always only ever been me doing the harm. 

Chicago was the downwards spiral for me mentally. I felt like I was failing to live up to my own expectations. That people were drifting away from it. I was plagued by the thought that the story I poured so much into was falling apart and growing weaker. Which this has always been an issue with me: I am my own harshest critic. Always have been. In fact, I’m a downright mean little fucker when it comes to just tearing at myself. I know writing is for fun - and it is - but I still like the idea of being proud of my work which only made everything worse despite the love each update received. 

This takes us to the beginning of June. Specifically, June the 2nd. Or, as I like to call it: Kat Makes Another Impulsive Decision but This One Actually Works Out For the Better. On this day, I created the COA Discord server. And damn, I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting when I did ngl. I did it for fun and as an escape more so than anything. But somehow it ended up being the best decision I made in a long while. I know some of you are reading this. So love you lots, dorks. It’s such a privilege to be able to call so many of you my friends even outside of COA now. That little community has given me some of the best memories from this year and helped me to crawl out of my own metaphorical pit I was stuck in. Mentally, I’m doing much better than I did beginning of this summer. Which could be summed up as a constant self-hatred cycle and a feeling of inadequacy. 

That, however, does not mean my burnout magically disappeared. If anything Chapter 17 just put a nail in the coffin so to speak. 2020 has been a shitty year just across the board for obvious reasons I don’t need to go into here but that can only partially be attributed to my mental state. Chapter 17 was...exhaustive. To say the least. But I was determined to stick with my vision and not split it up. I was also starting to be a bit more forgiving towards myself in terms of how long I may take to write it thanks to guys on discord though the feeling of failure and worry never quite faded fully. I’m proud of Part 17. Truly. But that was also when I hit rock bottom creatively on COA. It drained me completely. 

I tried writing Part 18 for weeks after, day in and day out, not getting past the first scene and hating every word I wrote. So I took a deep breath and stopped. Figured I let it marinate and wait instead of trying to piece one of the most crucial chapters in this story like some Frankenstein monster two sentences at the time.

So my solution was simple: give myself some distance from it and write other things. Get my spark back. Of course that’s always a good idea. Having multiple creative escapes is the best thing you can do for yourself creatively. There was just one tiny little problem. 

I was still burned out. Still am. The problem went deeper than just being burned out over COA. I was burned out over writing itself. 

Which is an issue for a person who only has writing as a creative outlet.

I don’t have any other way to express myself. So I was stuck in a runt, trying to write because it’s the only thing that makes me genuinely happy even when I really shouldn’t have. And let me tell you. It’s a shitty fucking feeling. My burnout worsened. I had a thousand ideas but every time I tried to get them down it felt forced, fragmented, and weak. Repetitive and dry. Now, this is also in part because English isn’t my native language, so my vocab is limited as a result, but I hit that sweet rock bottom in that regard, too. 

So, I worked on V (but in her OC form Clara), Lucien and The Elites. All those characters have grown so much since you last read about them. I have multiple original projects planned down the line that will feature all of them existing in their own world, with their own stories and no longer constrained by JW canon.  

Which, finally, takes us to the end of October and beginning of November 2020. 

I was convinced that the best course of action was to do NaNo again but with an original story this time (involving V). Suffice to say, it took a grand total of maybe 5-6 days and hating every second of writing it while also feeling like this project I’m so passionate and excited to write (still am) is just...going down the toilet to be blunt, to realise I may have made the wrong call. 

Still, the stubborn ass that I am, I pushed through. Convinced I can get into it if I just keep going. The realizations that I am sharing with you right now won’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for a rather curious turn of events about a week and a half ago.

I recently bought a gaming laptop, all in preparation for Cyberpunk 2077 dropping ofc. But, in the meantime, I kept recommending a game to a friend on the COA server. That game? Far Cry 5. (It’s a blast to play btw, just a side note.) And playing it brought back all the feelings of nostalgia from the days when I used to write for that fandom. So I revisited some old work. Checked the stuff I never published and that has been sitting ducks in my docs for months and hoo boy. Let me tell you it was a vibe check of the worst kind. 

The stark difference in the prose and the ease with which it flowed was...startling. It made me remember why I love writing so much and how proud I used to be of what I wrote back in the day. Which is not to say I’m not proud now, but it was just such a sharp dip in quality it was impossible to ignore.  

So I didn’t.  

I paused NaNo, moving it to another month. I paused writing for everything but work, which with our season coming to an end I will also get a rest from soon, too. I kinda paused in general. For the first time in a while, I finally forced myself to switch off. Rest. 

The reason why I haven’t been on here is simple: guilt and not having energy to be on here. I like making my blog a safe space for everyone. Similar to escape it has become for me. I couldn’t pretend I was fine when I wasn’t. I felt obliged to perform and being here became exhausting. I haven’t been checking my inbox. Haven’t done much of anything except occasionally dropping by and reblogging a random post so people know I’m alive.

And that’s that, folks. That’s where I am currently. Resting. Completely exhausted mentally but resting. Getting my energy back. 

So where does that leave us, huh? If you read this far, dunno what to tell you. Thanks, I suppose. It’s still odd to think people actually care about my existence sometimes.

I know what you’re likely thinking, too. So does this mean COA is never gonna be finished? What is gonna happen to it? Are you abandoning it?

The answer: no. 17 out of 25 chapters and 250k+ in, I’m too far in not to give it a proper conclusion. Not because I owe it to anyone other than myself. I want this story to be a stepping stone for my future as a writer. I want to prove to myself that I can get this done and finish it. As of right now (as you can no doubt tell with how long it’s been since last update) it’s on a soft hiatus while I rest. This rest? Not sure how long it may last. Right now, my plan is till mid December at which point I will reevaluate. Ideally, I finish the year with an update. But my New Year’s resolution is to finish COA. That timeline has become a little more murky now but, again, ideally it’s within the first quarter of 2021. Will that happen? I don’t know. And I don’t want to make false promises, either. 

All I’m saying is that it will be done. I’m just no longer sure how long, exactly, it may take me to reach that Epilogue. I don’t expect many people to stick around for however long it may take me, but if you do, thank you. Truly. I really and deeply mean that. 

So what’s on the cards for this blog in the meantime? Well, CP77 is coming out in under a month (if it doesn’t get moved again lmao rip) and I expect that to be my soft return to posting my writing on here again. We will see where the muse takes me, if at all. Regardless though, I’m excited. 

One doctorate thesis later, here we are at the end of this really long rambling session. I hope that this has given you some perspective on things going on behind the scenes. I spared you some of the gorier details but I think this post has been long overdue. I suppose I, myself, was just too unwilling to face these things despite knowing about them deep down for a while now. I’m too self-critical not to notice but acting on correcting this behavior has been a whole other matter clearly. 

Thank you for reading this post, my writing in general, and supporting me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still around. More is on the way in the future. I’ll be seeing you all real soon. And all my love to all of you. 

Love,

- Kat.   

[butwhatifidothis]

I did it! Finally fucking did it! I 100% the support log for 3H….Holy shit, that took longer than I was expecting, lol. 

(Long rant, so heads up.)

I came in thinking “Oh they finally time-locked the supports, so I don’t have to have the damn cursor mocking me every time I open the menu like in Awakening and Fates, hurr hurr”. No no no no no. At least for Awakening and Fates, it was on my dumb ass for pressing the S-support and saving when I knew I shouldn’t. First off, if they wanted us to regain supports for Byleth in NG+, why the heck are supports for characters like Edelgard, Rhea, Dorothea and Lindhart locked? I don’t mean time-locked like the post-TS supports in a regular playthrough, I mean deadass “you can’t buy this, period” locked. “Oh it’s because you haven’t advanced that far in the story yet”. I can buy post-TS supports for the other characters, what makes El and Rhea exceptions?! The only thing that would be lost is that I don’t have to replay their entire route to get their S-support twice. It’s not like there’s enough differences between Bylad and Bylass to warrant the supports being locked, none of the characters specify a specific gender in their dialogue, and as far as different models go, changing models during a cutscene is coded into the game, so that should be no issue.  

After going through the monastery option enough times, the hubworld is in this weird limbo state where it feels like it was made specifically for Byleth’s benefit (faculty training, recruiting party members, etc,) but the rest of the party seems to benefit from it instead (Instructions, Motivation points, etc). The Explore vs Battle options just don’t mix well, which feels like poor design choice. You can focus on auxiliary battles to raise your party’s level, but at the cost of potentially missing out on more party members. You can instead focus on the monastery to recruit party members, but at the cost of Byleth falling behind due to splitting activity points between recruiting and faculty training, and being in the monastery means less time grinding for levels. This isn’t as much of a problem in NG+, but if a game needs NG+ to lessen a design problem, then that’s more of a sign to me that the idea itself needed more ironing out. 

 As far as using the monastery to raise support points goes, the hubworld definitely needs a revamp. The only (good) options available are Meal Time and Choir Practice, with the latter being limited to once per week and the former making me think that the monastery must eat their own weapons to survive due to how fucking scarce food ingredients are. Getting meat and fish isn’t too big of an issue so long as you have enough money, but produce might as well be an urban legend. There were too many times where I had 60+ fish/meat, but produce was at fucking 1. I get that they wanted to be “realistic” in having seeds grow once per week, but if it’s at the cost of a gameplay element being nigh unplayable, then some more thought needs to be put into it. Sothis is a goddess of life and time, maybe her powers allow Byleth to make plants grow faster. Just something to make this section actually playable. 

The final thing I wanted to talk about when it comes to the monastery is that, for some baffling reason, it is entirely possible to lock yourself out of key events like S-supports or being able to choose CF, simply by skipping to the end of the month. I’m not sure why this is a thing. It’s not like the game was designed with speedruns in mind (I mean, it is possible to beat a route in an hour, but fuck me if I ever succeeded in that), and nothing happens like a prompt popping up that you have to explore the monastery during that month or even limiting your options to just Explore (which the game has done before). This is especially weird for the quest in getting Jeralt’s ring (how to access S-supports), since Byleth is supposed to be sad in this month, so not being able to do seminars or Byleth being undeployable during auxiliary battles would make sense. 

The option to choose CF is even worse though, because at least for Jeralt’s ring it’s a Red Quest that doesn’t allow you to finish exploring unless you complete it. For Edelgard, however? A dime-a-dozen quest prompt you can entirely look over and skip. No prompt by the game, no indication to talk to Edelgard, nothing. FFS, Rhea’s tea time quest was given more thought. At least her quest marker is a unique color. 

(End of rant…sort of) 

…So anyways, that was my experience with the game, lmao. Now you or someone else may be thinking, “nonnie, if you had this many problems completing the game, why did you bother?”, and the answer to that good question is…I’m not completely sure, lol. I know there’s more than one reason why, so bear with me here. I know part of it is due to sunk-cost fallacy (“I’m already this far into the game, I might as well fully complete it”), but I think a bigger reason is because I knew ahead of time that the routes were so similar to each other that there was little point in having a route split to begin with (except for CF, but who gives a fuck about that?). Despite all of my bitching, I do really like 3H even if I admit that it’s my least favorite FE game that I’ve played so far. I guess a part of me just wanted to like the game more despite my issues with it. 

Now that I think about it, maybe the main reason was for fear of future mainline games. People are fear to like whatever part of a game that they wish, but I do think that 3H introduced some fundamental storytelling flaws that I’d rather not see repeated in the future, with me focusing on 3 in particular: 1) The Monastery, 2) Route Splits and 3) Byleth. 

Aside from what I already talked about in regards to the monastery, if we are going to get another hubworld in the new FE title, have it to where it doesn’t conflict with how the rest of the story is presented. Is it better to simply tell us that the Western Church is xenophobic in an easily skippable side quest early on, or is it better to show us? Enemy Western Church NPCs going after foreign party members like Dedue or Petra more aggressively and calling them “animals” or the like, the map having Duscari NPCs locking themselves indoors for fear that the Western Church will persecute them, things of that nature. Is it better to tell us that there has been civil unrest in the Empire and the citizens revolting against Edelgard, or is it better to show us? Enemy Adrestian Civilian NPCs, assassins specifically going after Edelgard in a map, maybe one where a large farmland has been stripped bare. Things like that. 

I’d rather do away with the Persona-calendar/Monastery hubworld, but if they are here to stay then they need enough content in it to keep the player engaged for 20-odd chapters, because there isn’t enough content in Garreg Mach to even hold up 12 chapters. Speaking of more content, if there’s going to be another route split in the next title, then there needs to be enough differences in the routes that actually warrants having a route split. Fates already did this well in having the route split be early in the game, along with the plot and story maps of each route being different, you could even skip to the route split moment on subsequent playthroughs, so 3H’s approach in having to play the same 12 chapters 3-4 times just felt like a massive downgrade. Playing multiple routes should feel rewarding rather than tedious, is what I’m trying to say. 

Finally, and most importantly, I know that no one at IS is reading this but on the off chance that someone is - please, for the love of God, do not make another blank-slate/self insert main character like Byleth. Or at the very least, don’t have them be the focal point of the story, it’s a big reason why AM just works better than the other routes. For a game like FE, “self-insert” and “protagonist” goes as well as oil and water. Now, out of those three flaws listed, the Byleth one is what I’m hard set on. The monastery and route split flaws, my opinion might be flexible within reason, but the Byleth one…not so much, lol. If we really do get another self-insert doll for a main character, that alone is going to make the next game a hard sell for me, because seeing all the praise Byleth got (and has been getting) makes me fear that IS is going to take the wrong lesson from this and think they don’t have to put effort in making their protagonist anything resembling an actual person and their audience will still lap it up. It would be one thing if I just hated the character, but I don’t. I’m disappointed, which is even worse.

…With that said, it’s still better than whatever the heck Cap’n’Crunch is doing. Okay, rant over. For real this time.

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I agree with a lot said here! But I do have a few disagreements, though they’re mostly my opinion than anything else lol

And this first one is probably like, extremely unpopular given how much shit I’ve seen flung at this aspect of 3H, but like… I actually really like the Monastery? Like yes, absolutely, it should have done more to not shelter the player from how bad the war is and it should change more with the world instead of being in this mostly limbo state where apparently seasons don’t real. I definitely also have those complaints, but to me, the Monastery was fine for the most part. A lot of the issues you brought up, like supports and Faculty Training and supplies for eating, weren’t a problem for me almost at all. My only real gripe is with how hard it is for Byleth to get training in Flying, Mounted and especially Heavy Armor without NG+ unlocking weapons ranks, since they don’t have access to Weekly Chores. I do believe I still managed to recruit everyone while only unlocking C in Faith on my Maddening playthrough of GD, but it certainly wasn’t easy. But I feel a lot of the problem people have with it are on subsequent playthroughs where they’re trying to do things like 100% any aspect of 3H, which yeah is gonna exacerbate the issues tenfold. Cuz like, while those three weapons ranks I mentioned are hard for Byleth to raise, on Normal mode you have unlimited auxiliary battles to help with all the other ones. 

Like, I wanted to get Claude’s Dex to the max amount right? Just cuz I felt like it. And in doing that I found out just how tedious it is to get levels once a unit gets to a certain point, just cuz while Normal Mode gives you the Retreat option that lets you keep exp so you can drop a unit down on a yellow spot and get a decent boost in exp… you can do that like, twice or thrice on a story chapter. Once if it’s auxiliary (and not the freebie one). And that’s if you even have internet. And using the greenhouse to get Ailiell Pomegranates was a pain because they weren’t really guaranteed even if I used nothing but the right seed - doing that is more consistent, but not always, and I usually only got one anyway. It was annoying! But I was also doing a specific thing that’s gonna heighten the flaws in the system that I never would have noticed - didn’t even notice - unless I did that. The flaws are still there, don’t get me wrong! The Monastery definitely still needs improvement, battles still need to be a little more streamlined for future playthrough, but the flaws can seem a bit bigger than they are once you do certain things outside of a casual playthrough, know what I mean?

But, for example, when replaying 3H on hard mode and looking to recruit everyone after my no recruitment run, I didn’t come across any dilemma over “recruitment or Byleth being good, pick one.” That was the run my Byleth was usable, in fact - my first blind run that was no recruitment (save for Shamir) had my Byleth be pretty much completely useless while literally everyone else was fine. Also never came across problems with supplies for cooking (or at least not any big enough to comment on). So like, while these (and the above stuff) can certainly be problems for players trying to do everything everything in 3H, at least from my experience I just haven’t come across them. The monastery itself definitely needed a better story implementation, but yeah. I could’ve just been lucky tho lmao

I don’t mind how they implemented trying to get on CF at all tho lol. If you’ve been playing the game like it suggests you do - supporting characters and exploring the monastery  there’s no reason for players to have missed getting on CF. If players wanted to ignore one of the biggest aspects of the game I don’t really feel that bad for them when they miss out on very achievable things. Plus, CF’s requirements are nothing in terms of FE’s madness when it comes to getting on a route. It may be more specific than any other route, but like I said, playing the game as the game tells you to would naturally land you in it (the only thing that might be a bit unfair is that I think if you talk with Edelgard at all that month you have to decide right then and there, and then the whole month is lost. Kinda ass). 

Binding Blade, for example, requires you to do specific things that few first time players would think to do in multiple, random chapters in order for you to get the best ending. With absolutely no warning as to when these chapters happen and what to do in them. And some of these requirements are not fun lmao, I’d prefer how they did it with CF than with how they’ve handled ~secret~ stuff before personally

Pretty much agree with everything else though! While 3H is actually one of my more favored games in the series, I’ll be the first to admit that its storytelling is in dire need of improvement. Having the story and lore of the game just be spat out in lore dumps and this or that NPC just isn’t that good. Or if they are going to do that, at the very least give some visuals to go along with it! Imagine how much impactful Rhea’s story would have been if it was in a visual format, like CGs and/or a cutscene. It still would be an info dump, but at least we can see for ourselves how horrific the Red Canyon was for her! And I do not want another avatar in whatever next mainline game we get, personality or not. We’ve evolved past the need for self-inserts that all the characters Just Like lmao

But thanks for sharing your thoughts!! And sorry that it took so long for me to get to answering ;w;