#but I also suppose every character deserves their own oopsie
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sihtryggr · 6 months ago
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*apparently* Daemon does send B&C after Aemond and they decide to go after Helaena and her children instead.
Like is this the war of accidents and oopsies?
I suppose Helaena will accidentally trip and fall out the window, Daemon will be so excited to see his nephew that he’ll jump from dragon back to hug him but, his sword is just too big and too long and it’ll accidentally jab Aemond through the eye and Rhaenyra will also accidentally wander straight into Sunfyre’s mouth and so on and so on.
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tomboyneedshercoffee · 4 years ago
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Lovedust pt.7 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader
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Summary: It’s the night of the party and Y/N is having seconds thoughts about going but her friend Kim convinces her to go and have fun. While things get more complicated with Peter, Y/N and Josh get closer at the party. 
Word Count: MF 7.7K ( This is my longest piece I-)
Author’s note: YALL HERE WE ARE! THE BIG OOPSIE DOOPSIE OF LOVEDUST! This is probably my favorite part that I have written so far- it’s fairly long but boy did my heart HURT. I would say we have about maybe 2-3 chapters left give or take and I’m so bummed the story is almost over :(. Thank you all for being incredibly kind, your support means so much I can’t thank you guys enough. ALSO hehe there’s a lil easter egg from the first chapter and the chapter with Y/N having a nightmare. If yall pay attention to some of the wording at the end...
Warnings: Underage drinking, adult language, angst, mentions of death
part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || epilogue
You wanted it to be a normal night, one that in hindsight, would’ve worked out in your favor if you were normal to begin with. You weren’t the partying type or maybe, you just convinced yourself that it wasn’t the case since you were hardly invited to them to begin with. 
As if it made any sense, you felt eerily similar to Cinderella at this moment; even though she was one of the worst princesses in your opinion, you still sympathized with her story. The idea of wanting nothing more than to leave the confines of her dusty attic to dress pretty for a ball was something you could sadly relate to. 
While the Avengers complex was by far well above the average means, it was Cinderella longing for just one night away from her complicated life that made you see the story in a different light. 
But after years of wondering what it would be like to go to a real party (now that you were offered the chance to go) it wasn’t the way you dreamed it would be. As you stood in front of your closet, recalling the times you had put on outfits that you thought would be the perfect party attire just seemed like pieces of cloth, nothing more and nothing less. 
Because you didn’t care about the stupid party. You cared about Peter. 
You had put so much blame on him for everything; his feelings that he couldn’t control and his past which he apologized for multiple times. When you had the chance to fix everything, you were too scared to be vulnerable with him and admit that maybe you were falling for him. 
You weren’t a coward, you wanted to convince yourself that you could still move on and have fun without thinking of him but you felt almost embarrassed that you were feeling the opposite. 
“ I don’t want to go anymore. This isn’t right,” You sighed as you turned to your phone that was propped up against your dresser,” I can’t just leave him here while I go off to some party.”
You watched Kim through the facetime call as she put down her mascara to take a second to look at you,” Y/N, you have been talking about this party all week. Hell, I gave you that blue top that makes your boobs look great and you even said you couldn’t wait to wear it to the party!”
You only hummed in response as you moved aside the hangers in your closet to find the top that Kim had let you borrow. 
“ We mentally prepared for this, we watched Superbad and Booksmart in one night to get the full spectrum of high school parties and we even practiced how to play beer pong!”
“ That was on our phones, I’m sure it’s different in real life,” You sighed as you took off your shirt and slipped on Kim’s blue blouse,” I just feel awful about going to a party knowing Peter is just gonna be here all night.” 
“ Y/N, you deserve this party. You’ve worked your ass off for four years and I know how badly you wanted to go ever since we got uninvited to that one theatre party where Timothy Chalamete supposedly showed up to. I know you feel guilty about Peter and yeah, you kinda fucked things up, for now, but you deserve a goddamn break,” Kim practically yelled through the screen, doing her best to hype you up,” if you don’t go, you’re gonna regret it, you and I both know that. So just get dressed, do your hair all cute and shit, put on makeup or whatever you do and go have fun at this party with Josh.”
“ Fuck, Josh! I completely forgot about him, he’s supposed to pick me up in an hour!” You said as you suddenly felt a wave of nerves come over you,” what do I do about Josh? What if he tries to make a move on me tonight?”
“ Do you want him to make a move?”
“ I don’t know...not really but then again, I wouldn’t mind. Don’t hate me cause I know this sounds shitty, but maybe I need a distraction from Peter...is that awful?” You asked as you slipped off your pajama pants and rummaged through your dresser for jeans,” don’t answer that, I know that’s awful to say. Am I turning into a fuckboy?”
“ If you feel empathy than no, you’re not turning into a fuckboy,” Kim laughed as you found a pair of jeans to slip into,” look, I know how you feel about Peter and if you see yourself wanting to be with him than this thing you have with Josh won’t happen. At the same time, even if you do like Peter and you want to have fun with Josh for a night, you’re not a shitty person for wanting that. You’ve been through the wringer with Peter and to be honest, Josh is literally a goddamn angel so I don’t blame you for seeing him as an option. Either way, you’re hot, smart as fuck, and you are a fucking Stark; you don’t owe Peter or Josh anything so do what you want to do because you deserve it.” 
Kim was every protagonist’s wet dream; the side character who had more to offer every time and yet, she practically thrived off of hyping you up. You knew that she had a point, she always did. 
A part of you could tell which way she was leaning in terms of who you would go out with and yet, she only cared that you were making the right choice for yourself and your own happiness. 
“ You really are a ride or die friend,” You said honestly as Kim smiled back,” I’m going to get ready but I’ll see you there okay?” 
“ Will do girlfriend!”
Once the facetime call ended, you leaned back in your chair and stared at yourself in the mirror. 
You didn’t know what your intentions would be for the night and even though Kim had said you wouldn’t be a bad person if you had fun with Josh, you knew you would still feel shitty doing so, especially when you knew that you had strong feelings for Peter. 
As you fixed up your hair, all you could do was replay the conversation with Peter in the rain and how close you were to confessing everything. Looking back, you knew you were stupid for running away, if you really liked him than what was the problem of letting him know how you felt?
Because you knew once he was cured, he wouldn’t share the same feelings for you. 
In every sense of the lovedust, the way Peter felt about you wasn’t natural and yet, it was the lovedust that really made you like Peter back. 
You were just saving yourself from future heartbreak and given your past relationships, you had a reason to be hesitant in being that vulnerable with another guy. 
And yet, you still feel like you owed Peter an explanation. 
You got up from your seat and walked out of your bedroom, making a beeline towards his room. You were sure he was done with testing at this point but after knocking on his door a few times, there still wasn’t a response. 
You opened the bedroom door to find his room completely empty with everything neatly tucked in place as if he was cleaning up for a guest. 
The complex was big but you knew you would run into sometime before Josh showed up so you walked straight out and went to the elevators to make your way up to the labs. As you pressed the elevator button, you felt some unease sitting at the pit of your stomach. 
Something felt off, whether it be your natural woman inclination or just the fact that you were nervous to confront Peter. 
The elevator doors slid open and you walked in before you pressed the button to the designated floor like it was second nature.
Just breath, you’re fine, why are you freaking out?
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and once you pulled it out, you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw Josh’s contact name pop up. 
Josh: I just left my apartment! I’ll see you in 20 min!
Your stomach shifted once again as you replied back before stuffing your phone back into your front pocket. 
Twenty minutes. 
That was enough time to confess to Peter right? 
The elevator doors opened to the lab and you walked towards the main zone with a slow pace, as if the anticipation would suddenly make you feel less nervous. 
Once you rounded the corner to where your dad and Banner were usually working on Peter, you found the room to be completely empty besides for a few lab technicians who were working rather quickly. 
You took a moment to give one last look into the lab before going down the hallway to peek into the other glass rooms to try and find Peter. You had a feeling that maybe you should’ve checked the gym before coming all the way up to the labs but once you found yourself in front of the last room, you spotted your dad and Banner walking out with grim faces. 
“ Dad? Is everything okay?” You asked as their heads whipped around to turn to you,” have you two seen Peter anywhere?” 
You studied your dad’s face carefully but he gave no inclination of what the situation was, a talent he had grown accustomed to since he was your age. You gave up on your dad and watched Banner’s face, a face you always had a talent of reading easily. 
He kept his eye contact anywhere but towards your direction and the collar around his neck was wet, a sign that he was stressed out.
“ Banner, where’s Peter?” You asked again as you looked up at him before moving your eyes toward the room they had just walked out of,” is he in there?” 
“ He’s-”
“Resting. He’s had a day full of tests so we put him in one of the hospital beds just to keep an eye on him,” Your dad interrupted as you watched Banner gulp,” it’s not a big deal kiddo.”
Liar. 
“ Okay...well if it’s not a big deal than I’m gonna go check up on him to make sure he’s okay,” You said wearily as you tried to walk in between your dad and Banner but he took a step to block you. 
“ Y/N, he’s not feeling well-”
“ Why are you lying?” You asked as you looked back at Banner,” what are you two not telling me?”
Your dad kept up the charade and sighed as if he was annoyed,” Kiddo, he’s K.O’d for the night. You know, lots of tests and meds that’ll have him relaxed for a few hours. Maybe you should check up on him tomorrow.” 
You could tell he was trying so hard to keep up the lie and while your dad was a phenomenal liar, you were smart enough to see right through his act. 
All you could do was nod as you played coy,” Okay, that’s fine. Oh! I wanted to let you know I’m going to that party tonight so I won’t be home until later.”
As you were studying Tony, he was doing the same right back at you. It was like a game of chess; who would break first, who had the upper hand, and who was going to make the next move without disrupting their own game. 
“ Alright, just be safe than. Be back before eleven,” Tony said as he patted your shoulder and started walking with you back to the elevator, his hand almost leading you away from the door,” Remember; Beer before liquor, never been sicker.”
You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to know what was wrong with Peter. 
You stopped in your tracks as you turned around to face your dad and Banner, who was still avoiding your gaze. You knew something was up, it was painfully obvious and you weren’t going to just turn over and accept defeat. 
“ Would you ever lie to me?” You asked as your dad inhaled sharply, immediately shaking his head without a second thought,” okay.” 
You peeked your eyes back to the door and before you knew it, you ducked under your dad’s arm and ran over to the room where you were sure they were hiding Peter away. 
“ Y/N, stop!” 
You ran even faster as you practically slid against the tiled floor before throwing open the door to find Peter in the hospital bed. A huge heart monitor was connected to the side that had immediately spiked when you entered the room. 
“ Y/N? What are you doing here?” Peter asked as he sat up in his bed as your eyes traveled to several IV’S that were attached to his forearm. 
The first thing you focused on was how pale he looked. Whatever the hospital gown couldn’t cover showed almost a ghostly touch to his usual lush color. Since the lovedust, he had always had a blushful expression, accessorized with flushed cheeks or red tinted ears but now, there was none of that. 
You could hear your dad and Banner behind you but before your dad could drag you back, you could hear Banner talking your dad out of it to ‘give the kids some time.’ 
You didn’t even bother saying thank you as the door shut behind you, leaving you and Peter alone in the room. You were almost scared to come closer to him, he didn’t look like himself at all. 
You looked towards the heart monitor again which caused Peter’s heart rate to spike up with the thought alone. 
“ Tell me what happened,” You finally said as you made your way over to sit on the edge of Peter’s bed,” it’s serious, isn’t it?” 
Peter swallowed nervously but shrugged like it was nothing,” Your dad was there before anything bad happened.”
You shook your head, you weren’t going to get any information out of him like this. You turned to the side of his hospital bed and picked up a clipboard with his medical information. Peter tried grabbing it out of your hands but you stared him down, as if to say ‘ don’t try me.’ 
Peter backed down as your eyes scanned the sheet carefully, trying to decipher all of the medical lingoes that were vaguely familiar from watching Grey’s Anatomy. 
You felt your breath hitch as you read over the same diagnosis. 
“ You had an acute heartattack because of me, didn’t you?” You finally said as you carefully placed the clipboard on the desk beside you,” because of our argument... and you weren’t going to tell me.” 
“ Y/N, there was no reason to worry you-”
“ You’re so stupid Peter, why wouldn’t I be worried for you? You think an acute heartattack is something as normal as a fucking cold?” You snapped as you watched his heart rate rise. You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair to calm yourself down,” I’m killing you. Loving me is literally killing you Peter.”
Peter watched your gaze fall back to the IV’S while he kept his eyes on you the whole time. You looked absolutely defeated and he didn’t blame you. The way you stared at his arm made him feel like you were trying to somehow reverse the lovedust, as if you could take his pain away. 
And yet, what you didn’t know was that Tony had just come in minutes before you to announce that yes, you could actually take the pain away forever. 
“ What about you? Is it killing you?” Peter asked as you tore your eyes away from his IV’s and locked your gaze on him.
“ Seeing you like this? Of course it’s killing me, I’m not that cruel Parker.”
“ No,” Peter swallowed dryly,” is it killing you that you might love me?” 
Your first instinct was to laugh. What kind of sick joke was coming out his mouth? You tried to force any sound, anything that was a resemblance of something from English translation but your brain mentally stuttered. 
It was as if your mind and words went on pause to let your thoughts catch up to you. Were you really that easy to read or did Peter know you better than you know yourself? 
“ How do I answer that?” You asked quietly as Peter was quick with a reply. 
“ You answer it honestly.”
“ Oh, because you have been so honest with me?”
“ You haven’t been telling me the truth either. You’re a lot of things Y/N, but you’re not innocent.” 
“ Oh yeah? What am I then? Since you clearly know so much about me,” You replied to somehow detour the conversation. 
Peter gladly took the bait as he chuckled,” You’re stubborn. You’re the most stubborn girl I have ever met in my entire life and I love that about you. It makes things interesting knowing that you don’t roll over for anyone, even when you know you’re wrong.” 
You only hummed, he had a point. You had learned that from Tony and you weren’t ashamed about it one bit. 
“ Well, I love how foolishly selfless you are. You always put everyone else’s feelings before yours even when your health is at stake,” You said back as Peter’s smile faltered. 
Oh how spot on you were. 
Cause in this moment now, Peter was between a rock and a hard place. He had information that you didn’t have, information that would seemingly fix everything and yet, he didn’t want you to know. 
The cure for the lovedust. 
“ You’re keeping something from me, aren’t you?” You said after studying his expression for a moment as Peter released his bottom lip that he was holding in between his teeth nervously. 
Yes. 
“ I think you’re the one not being honest with your feelings,” Peter said as a matter of fact,” why won’t you admit it?”
You wanted to swallow your pride because damn it, you didn’t want a repeat of earlier. You didn’t want to chicken out but could you afford to be vulnerable again?
“ Peter...I don’t want to admit anything until you’re in the right state of mind,” You finally said, which was the most honest answer you could give,” after all, we both know what you’re feeling for me isn’t the same as how I feel for you...it’s a side effect of the dust.”
Peter only nodded, even though there was so much to say to you. Peter felt like he was in a slowburn novel, but damn, even at this point there had to be more to give right? If this was a story of two people who were meant to be together, then why the hell is it taking so long? 
If Peter could have it his way, he would rewrite it to where they could be happily ever after in the first chapter but sadly, this was real life and there wasn’t that kind of luxury. 
“You’re right, it’s not the same,” Peter said bitterly as his sympathetic smile faded,” just a side effect.” 
You both understood. As things stood now, it was more of a standstill than anything. A pause, a pitstop, anything to halt whatever momentum the two of you shared.  You felt absolutely broken that he admitted it, his “love” for you wouldn’t ever be the same as however, you felt about him in that moment. 
Just like that, you both knew you were doomed from the start.
You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and you already knew it was Josh. You inhaled deeply as you gave Peter’s hand a squeeze before rising from his bed,” I’m gonna go but if anything happens, call me okay?” 
“ Same goes for you. Be safe,” Peter said in almost a whisper as you nodded before turning to the door. 
You walked out of the room and leaned against the door for a moment collecting your thoughts. You ignored the gaze of Banner and your dad and seemingly walked through the two without batting an eye. 
Tony felt guilty knowing that you had caught him in a lie but he really thought he was doing his daughter a favor. Once he knew you were gone, Tony walked through the door to find Peter deep in thought. 
Tony shut the door behind him and walked over, taking a seat in the chair beside Peter’s bed. No one said anything for a moment but Peter was the one to break the silence first. 
“ I didn’t tell her about the cure. I don’t think she would even want to...” Peter admitted as Tony nodded. 
Tony crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, his mind wandering in every direction,” Good call. Thor said our time is fleeting so we need to make sure it works.” 
Peter shifted nervously in his spot,” You and Banner won’t stop finding a different cure though, right? Just in case?” 
“ Yeah, just in case.” 
                                                       -------
“ You look nervous,” Josh pointed out once the two of you pulled up into the driveway of Amber’s house,” did you want to wait a second before we walk in?” 
You shook your head as you tried to swallow any nerves that were building up in your throat. You couldn’t believe you were actually about to go to a party after everything that has been going on. 
“ No, I’m fine...It sounds stupid but I don’t really do parties so this is all kinda new,” You admitted as you took in another deep breath. 
“ It’s not stupid at all. If it makes you feel any better, I usually get pretty antsy before preforming but now that I know you’re going to watch me, I feel less nervous,” Josh smiled warmly as you started to feel your senses ease,” parties aren’t as scary as you think. Yeah, there are always a lot of people I don’t know but seeing a familiar face is always reassuring.” 
Josh had a way of calming you down that no other person could do so easily. You wondered if someone else had said the same thing to you like Kim or Peter and if it would have the same effect but maybe it was just exclusively Josh that had that sort of charm. 
“ Okay, I’m ready.”
The funny thing was, you really thought you were ready until you stepped into her house. The floor vibrated along to the beat of whatever song was blasting along the speakers and the smell of alcohol and weed felt almost suffocating. You were immediately overwhelmed with the amount of people already there and of course, you hardly recognized anyone from school. 
“ Here, hold on tight,” Josh intertwined his fingers with yours as he led you both through the crowd of teenagers almost too effortlessly. 
He led you outside and you thanked god the stage that was set up for his band was in the backyard. You walked along the poolside, following closely behind him before you felt someone splash you with water. 
“ Hey what- Kim!” You shouted excitedly as you let go of Josh’s hand to crouch down beside the pool to where Kim was swimming in just her bra and underwear,” you’re not even wearing a swimsuit? You dirty bitch.”
Kim laughed as she rested her hands against the edge of the pool,” Took you two long enough. Joshua, how are you this evening?” 
“ It’s going good Kimberly, I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” Josh teased back as Kim playfully rolled her eyes,” Y/N, I’m gonna check in with the guys real quick. Are you cool to stay here for a second?”
You nodded and shooed Josh with your hand,” Go, I’ll be fine.”
Josh gave you one last nod before jogging over to where his band was setting up. His bandmates had seen you walking over hand in hand with you and were now giving Josh hard pats on his back, as if to say ‘ nice job.’ 
“ He’s so respectful it physically hurts. Like I know the bar is so low for men but Josh checks every box. It’s annoying,” Kim sighed as you dragged a lawn chair from the grass and put it next to the edge of the pool to continue talking to your friend,” I would kill to be in your shoes right now. Oh to have two, brown-eyed guys fawn over me!” 
You couldn’t help but laugh as Kim dramatically placed her hand over her forehead and all you could do was shake your head,” Whatever, you didn’t even like Peter. You said so yourself he was a total douchebag.” 
“ Was a total douchebag and look, not that it’s any competition but I’m hashtag, team Peter. I’m a sucker for a good enemies to lovers trope,” Kim sighed as you felt your chest tighten up at her proclamation. 
You moved your eyes away from Kim as Josh came back over to you,” Did you want me to get you a drink?”
“ Thank goodness yes-”
“Y/N you should go with him,” Kim insisted as you turned to give her an odd look,” don’t get me wrong Joshua, I trust you but ya know, parties and alcohol and...men. Just to be extra safe.” 
You wanted to drown Kim on the spot for even insinuating that Josh would do something as terrible as spiking your drink but luckily, Josh gave a sincere nod. 
“ Of course, that’s not a problem. Men really are the worst,” Josh said casually as the two gave each other a little salute,” ready Y/N?”
Josh interlocked his hand with yours once again as he led you back into the house and through the kitchen as some people called out to greet him. 
“ Look at you Mr. Popular,” You teased as Josh squeezed your hand before opening up the fridge.
“ This is your first time drinking right?” Josh asked as you nodded, almost embarrassed,” Hey, that’s alright. You and I are gonna stick to the light stuff tonight, these taste better anyway.”
Josh pulled out three bottles of Mike’s Hard Lemonade and popped off the bottlecaps with a bottle opener before pouring it straight into two plastic cups. 
He tucked the third bottle underneath his arm as you watched him curiously. Josh caught you eyeing his actions as he handed you the cup carefully. 
“ Why not just drink it straight from the bottle?” You asked as you watched Josh take a sip,” I feel like we’re hurting the environment.” 
“ Looks cooler in a red solo cup,” Josh admitted bashfully as he clinked his cup with yours. 
You took a small sip, expecting it to burn like how it was always described in coming of age books but surprisingly, the fizzy taste of citrus wasn’t overpowering in any way. Josh raised his eyebrows and playfully nudged your shoulder,” See! It’s good, right? If you drink enough of these, I’m sure anyone could get tipsy but the goal of this party is to actually remember it the next day.”
There was just something about Josh that made you feel so much safer than anyone else. He didn’t tease you for never having gone to a party before or having alcohol; if anything he did his best to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. 
“ You’re being unreasonably cool, you know that right?” 
Josh smiled as he reached for your hand instinctively for the third time that night,” Only for you baby.” 
Smooth smooth Josh. Like putty in his hands, he led you back to the backyard but the whole time, you felt your heart practically melt at him calling you baby. 
Was it pathetic how easily you leaned into his touch? Maybe. 
But god, he really did make things harder for you. You had come into this party with your eyes on another guy and yet, Josh always managed to turn up the charm whenever necessary and you ate it up. 
Josh might be the charming, golden boy but you knew you couldn’t be too naive. Everyone had flaws, maybe Josh’s was that he was too nice and too friendly, or possibly him being a complete lightweight was the only thing holding him back in life. 
Lucky bastard. 
Once you made it to the backyard, you found Kim with a towel around her body, sitting on one of the lawn chairs. Josh walked over and whistled at Kim to look up from her phone, to which he handed her the bottle of Mike’s and she sounded a quick thanks in response. 
“ I’m gonna warm up with the guys. We’re only going to play a quick set but after, I’m all yours,” Josh promised as his cheeks started to get red at his own words but he turned back around at an attempt to hide his face. 
You took a seat next to Kim as you felt your heart practically skip a beat,” He’s really something isn’t he?”
“ Mm, he’s something alright,” Kim sighed as she struggled to open up the bottle,” dumb bitch, he didn’t bring a bottle opener or something?” 
“ It’s the thought that counts!” You said back as Kim popped the bottle cap using the metal part of the lawn chair.
As you listened to Josh’s band start their first song, you couldn’t help but feel guilty on how you were feeling. A part of you was holding on to the idea of you and Peter being a possibility but things were always so complicated with him. 
There was more to lose in being with Peter and it was painfully obvious that Josh made things so incredibly easy. You didn’t need to walk on eggshells when you were with him and sure, things were new and always changing but Josh could eventually be a person you could lean on. 
You reminded yourself that Peter “loved” you and that you did feel something for him that Josh couldn’t make you feel, but it wasn’t real love and that alone completely sobered you up from your moodiness,” Cheers Kim.” 
She watched as you drank whatever was left in your cup but Kim only ooo’d, knowing it wasn’t enough to get you drunk. 
You shook your head as you tried to think of anything but Peter. Tonight was your night to be free and you didn’t want to have to worry about who would be waiting for you once you got back home. 
And yet, deep down, you wondered why a part of you felt like it wasn’t right to hold Josh’s hand. Maybe because you knew you liked holding Peter’s more. Even as you looked up at Josh who stole a few glances your way, you silently prayed that it was Peter up on that stage instead. 
“ I can’t do this,” You said after a second of overthinking everything as you pulled your phone out of your pocket,” I need to text him.” 
“ Um fuck no! No drunk texts, that shit is so embarrassing Y/N!”
“ This is less than 5% alcohol, I am definitely not drunk Kim,” You mumbled as you slapped her hand away and pulled out your phone to text Peter,” I thought you were on team Peter?” 
Y/N: I need you
Y/N: *address*
Kim watched as you texted Peter but before you could send it, Kim leaped out of her seat and snatched the phone out of your hand,” I swear-! Yes, I am a new fan of team Peter, although Josh is getting major brownie points, but I have been a loyal member of team Y/N way before anyone else. I’m doing you a favor, what is texting him going to solve?” 
You pouted as Kim slipped your phone into her bag, unbeknownst to the both of you that the message had accidentally sent. 
“ Now get the hell up and lets dance bitch!”
                                                         ------
You and Kim had perfected your mental state to a tee; not drunk enough to trip over air and make complete fools of yourselves but tipsy enough to where even the slightest look at each other was enough to make you break out into a fit of laughter. 
You still ‘danced like people were watching’ but you managed to still let loose enough to where the music flowed so freely between your fingertips. 
“ Josh you guys were great!” You shouted as you pulled him into a surprise hug, which he happily accepted,” I think I’m officially your number one fan now.”
“ Wait in line,” Kim scoffed playfully as she grabbed her bag from the floor,” I’m gonna go get a cheese plate or something. Don’t do anything gross while I’m gone.” 
You shot her a prompt ‘ why would you say that’ with your eyes before turning back to face Josh. You weren’t sure where things would go next but he took your hand and led you to the other side of the backyard to a wooden bench, claiming that he just wanted to rest a bit after singing for so long. 
The bench was small enough to where your thigh was against his but you didn’t mind the contact. 
“ Thanks for coming out by the way. I know these type of things are pretty overwhelming but I’ve been having fun so far. How about you?” Josh asked as you exhaled deeply. 
“ I’m glad I came...thank you again for convincing me to come out here. I feel like there’s been a lot of stuff going on at home and it’s kind of nice being a normal teenager for once,” You said honestly as Josh rolled his shoulders back. 
You could feel how nervous he was next to you but for the most part, he didn’t really show it from his facial expression. 
“ Can I ask you something?” 
You nodded, trying your best to be as cool as possible but all you could think about was how dry your mouth felt. 
Oh fuck, the million-dollar question was finally here, wasn’t it? Was he going to reveal his feelings? What if he was going to make a move?
“ Is there something going on between you and Peter? The other day when I came over, it felt...intense. I didn’t want to overstep by coming over or anything,” Josh hesitated as he tested the waters. 
Oh. 
Well fuck, that question was just as nerve-wracking as the others. You wanted to be as honest with Josh as possible but at the same time, you didn’t want to ruin any chances you had of possibly having him around if Peter didn’t work out. 
You knew that was such a shitty mindset but Josh had a way of making you feel so comfortable and you weren’t willing to let that go. 
“ I thought I had something with him but it’s complicated,” You answered honestly,” you saw him, he’s...sick and I feel like the sickness is making him feel things that aren’t actually there. I don’t know, it’s so weird to explain.” 
Josh bit his bottom lip nervously as he hung onto your every word,” So his feelings for you aren’t there like he thinks it is?” 
God, it sounded so simple the way Josh said it when it was so much worst in reality. Of course, it would be way easier to tell Josh everything from the toxic relationship you and Peter had to how the lovedust was emotionally and physically a toll on both of you. 
For obvious reason, you could never reveal that much to him. 
“ Yeah, exactly that,” You sighed, sounding a bit too disappointed and Josh had caught the shift in your voice,” feelings are always so complicated.”
“ Not all the time,” Josh said quickly as he caught himself,” I mean, liking someone doesn’t have to be complicated. Sometimes it’s really easy because love shouldn’t hurt, you know?” 
You only nodded because you could tell Josh had more to say. He took this opportunity to shift his body to fully face you and you scooted your back against the armrest so you could show him that you were attentive. 
“ I mean, when I like someone, all I think about is how much I like being around them. Everything else kind of just falls away and it feels all warm like how the books describe it,” Josh could feel a blush creep onto his cheeks yet again but he knew there was no point in covering it up now,” it’s a cliche but I think when you have a crush on someone, everything just falls into place... And I feel that when I’m with...you.”
Your heart practically drew closer to him because what is going on, this was different. Even though Peter had generally been saying the same things to you for days on end, this was more. 
There wasn’t some magic space dust that was making Josh confess his feelings, it was just pure humanistic drive to step out of one’s comfort zone that had tugged on Josh harder than ever before. 
As if time had slowed down, you watched closely as Josh placed his hand onto your knee before leaning in, getting dangerously close to your lips. Josh stopped only a mere centimeter before your lips touched, as if to give you a chance to back away and yet, you stood still. 
You were trying to make sense of what your heart and your gut were telling you but you thought back to Peter admitting to you that the love he felt for you was a side effect of the lovedust, nothing more and nothing less. 
Peter would never like you back. 
That’s what pushed you over the edge and so, you closed the gap between you and Josh as you kissed him back. You could feel Josh smiling against your lips but the pure sensation of the kiss didn’t last. 
Kim had witnessed everything in slow motion. The text from Peter, indicating that he had entered and was heading to the backyard to watching Josh lean in to kiss you. It was like a sick hypothetical they always asked in ethics classes when presenting the Trolley Dilemma and yet, she barely had enough time to make a decision. 
All she could do was shout but it was a little too late. Peter saw everything. 
He saw you close the space between your lips and Josh’s. He saw Josh smile against your lips. He saw you pull away before leaning in for more. 
Peter knew what was coming next, he practically braced for the pain that he knew was coming because just earlier the same day, he had a miniature version of it. But he never expected the pain to be this unbearable. 
His ribs felt like someone had just swung a bat into the center of his chest and he could feel every bone splitting into various small fragments that were too small to ever glue back together. Each little fragment of whatever was left had seemingly pierced his heart in a thousand different places as more and more pressure starting to build in his chest. 
He couldn’t even let out a cry for help, not even a whimper because no air could come in through his mouth. 
The fear alone made his chest tighten up to the point where he felt his lungs almost give in from inside of him. His vision was the next to get blotched out with a violent array of reds and oranges, moving at a fast kaleidoscopic rhythm that sent Peter deeper into a panic.
The last to give was his legs; the dizziness from the complete distortion had made his knees buckle from the pain, sending him straight into the pool. 
You heard Kim cry out first as she pushed her way through a crowd that was blocking the door. You moved away from Josh to find the commotion and even though you couldn't see who fell into the water, you knew deep down who it was. 
You ran over to the edge of the pool and without a second thought, you dived into the water. Josh quickly followed behind you; it took him only a second to kick off his shoes before he jumped in after you. 
What scared you the most was how eerily quiet it was underwater. You could hear some muffled shouts but that’s not what was so quiet. His body was motionless in the water, there was no sign of struggling or thrashing or convulsing like how it was in the movies. 
Everything just felt slow as you desperately reached your arms out to swim faster to him. You only had one focus once you wrapped your arms across his chest and kicked up to the surface. In your mind, you were already going through how you would start compressions on him once you reached the top. 
You were panicked and scared but you knew you had to pull yourself together, pushing away any thoughts of how far gone Peter could be. 
You broke the surface with Peter in your arms as you called out to someone, anyone to take him from your arms. Kim and one of Josh’s bandmates helped lift Peter’s lifeless body onto the concrete as Kim quickly called 9-1-1. 
Her hands were shaking as she tried to press the three buttons and after an eternity, they picked up the phone. 
You scrambled up from the pool and hovered over Peter’s body and without a second thought, you started doing CPR. 
For a moment, that’s all you were thinking. Like a machine, over and over again on an endless cycle, chest compressions, open his airway, give rescue breaths. When you found yourself thinking about how panicked everyone else was and how pale Peter looked underneath you, you continued to give compressions until you felt like your arms would snap from the pressure. 
You don’t know how much time has passed but enough to where there would’ve been a sign by now. You sobbed for Peter and kept calling out to him, your voice shaking like a child, the same child who lost her parents all those years ago. The same child who held that heavy towel, pressing it against her fathers chest to stop the bleeding- no. 
You couldn’t think about that, this was different. You could save him. You kept reminding yourself over and over as you did a round of chest compressions, opened his airway, and gave more rescue breaths. Over and over. Non-stop. 
Again and again without hesitation. 
At this point, you couldn't stop your mind from thinking of Peter and the possibility of him actually dead. How long was he under? What had happened before? He must’ve seen the kiss- oh my god you killed him. 
You can feel it, building up inside of you like an unstoppable path set ablaze like pure lava. 
You thought about never hearing his laugh again, the one where he would grip his sides so hard, he would wheeze like an old dog toy. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths. 
You thought about him never calling out your name, whether it was followed by an insult or a loving comment about how you made him feel. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths. 
You thought about never touching him again, his strong arms holding your shaking body when you had that awful nightmare or how perfect his hand fit in yours when you two walked together in the rain. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths. 
You thought about never telling him how you actually felt, how stupid you were forever letting him get away because it was him all along. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths. 
It was always him. 
You were in love with Peter. 
And suddenly, almost finally, Peter jolted up and coughed up the water from his lungs. 
You stopped the compressions and held your own breath as Peter continued to cough up more water, his eyes squeezed shut. 
“ Peter? Can you hear me?” You called out between your choked cries as you snapped your fingers close to his ear.
After a moment, an agonizing moment, Peter nodded, as everyone else collectively let out the breath they didn’t know they were holding. Peter opened his eyes slowly, taking in everything like it was his first time seeing the world. 
“ Oh thank god, don’t worry, help is coming. Stay awake for me, okay?” You sighed in relief as you tucked a strand of wet hair behind your ear,” I’m so glad you’re okay.” 
When his eyes lock onto yours, he feels an odd sense of deja vu that he can’t explain. His chest isn’t tight anymore, his hands don’t feel as clammy as before, his mind feels almost cleared. 
He focused on your eyes while everything else drowned out around him. Your pupils, they’re big and they’re filled with a heavy deal of worry but there’s something else. Your eyes, he’s looked into them so many times before but why is it different? 
As shaken up as you are, you manage to cup his face carefully to console him, or more so yourself. Your hands are shaking but they’re warm against his cheek and he can’t help but reach his hand to lay across the hand that’s cupping his face. 
Peter feels his face flush, but this time it’s different, it’s...euphoric? Peter wasn’t even sure if he was saying the word correctly but that’s how he felt. 
Your eyes, he’s so enamored by the way you’re looking at him. You were worried of course, but no, there was something else. 
“ You’re safe Peter, you’re okay.” 
“ Don’t worry I got you.”
“ Just breath for me, okay?” 
There it was, the same deja vu. You had said that to him before, or maybe he had said it to you before through broken sobs when you had the nightmare. 
Peter’s breath hitched as it all finally hit him, he figured it out just by holding your deep gaze. 
Oh my god.
The lovedust had worn off, it was gone. All the anxiety and nerves from having it in his system had disappeared, evaporated off of him almost. The chest pains and the shortness of breath had gone away but Peter still felt something pulling, tugging at his heartstrings. 
The lovedust was gone, he knew that well enough.
 The only thing he could feel as he stared back at you was a pure, undivided, longing for you. 
That’s right, Peter Parker was still hopelessly in love with you, no lovedust required.
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kyoomiii · 4 years ago
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♡ Weight Insecurity [hcs]
-  ➣. . . ❝ can i request the weight insecurity with sugawara, nishinoya, kenma, and bokuto?  ❞
― requested by: @ anonie ​ ―
- ✎ characters ❝ sugawara, nishinoya, kenma, and bokuto ❞
- [ trigger warning(s): heavy mentions of insecurity ]
- ⚘ genre ❝ fluff, angst ❞
❝ i’m so sorry you had to wait so long anonie. but i hope you enjoy this~ 
๑•́ㅿ•̀๑)ノ also i may or may not have gone a little overboard on bokuto’s... 
oopsie ❞
-kyo ♡
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The gentle breeze that flows through the warm spring air is delightful against your skin, Sugawara’s small hums to an unknown tune filling the space as the two of you walk hand and hand to the vending machine. 
Despite the relatively quiet atmosphere, you don’t feel the least bit uncomfortable, rather the opposite really. But, then again there was always something about Sugawara that was so welcoming and soft- even mere strangers couldn’t help but fall into his warmth.
Your gaze trails aimlessly, the thought dancing in your head as you listen to his hum. Quietly, your eyes begin to wander over his features almost absentmindedly.
It’s then you begin to truly realize- The boy is absolutely beautiful. Whether it be his smooth unblemished skin or the tiny little beauty mark that’s settled right next to his eye. His appearance is nothing short of a delicate beauty. 
The longer you stare, the more you come to realize just how unreal his beauty is, something so pure seemed to belong to nothing short of a prince from a fairy tale. And though it never bothered you in the first place, you find yourself growing anxious.
Anxious because while you know Sugawara is beyond breathtaking, as shown in his countless admirers from all grades. You’d never truly realized just how gorgeous he is- and though you put him above wanting someone solely based on their appearance, you feel as though he could definitely do better- and maybe one day he will.
And now, as you come to a stop, despite being far from close to the vending machine. The loud thundering of your heartbeat drums through your ears. 
You can only watch as a girl- perhaps a 2nd year, catches Sugawara’s attention. Cheeks flushed, and hands folded neatly in front of her. Her lips are moving, but you can’t seem to catch what she’s saying. She’s pretty, big doe eyes, small, and thin- a delicate beauty, just like him.
Drifting in your own thoughts, you don’t even seem to notice as she walks away, somewhat dejected, though seemingly not too upset. 
“y/n? Is something wrong?”
The sudden call of your name startles you, but you can’t say that you weren’t expecting it, after all his observation skills are one of the many things you love about him, and with that you know there is no use lying. 
“Koushi- am I pretty?”
Wide-eyed and jaw-dropped, he can’t help but stop his tracks, his eyes carefully watching as you observe the retreating girl. 
“Oh y/n...Of course, you are. What makes you think you aren’t?”
“...I-... Well. I just think you could find someone better… You know, someone who is prettier- I mean, I’m not exactly… As beautiful as you are. And I think you deserve someone who fits that. Someone breathtaking and… thin.”
Not once, throughout your entire ramble do you look at him. Your eyes seemingly glued to the direction in which the girl has left.
But even so, Sugawara cups your rounded cheeks in each of his hands. His movements are slow and calculated as he turns your attention back to him. 
Hazel eyes boring into your own, and suddenly you feel vulnerable. Stripped bare to your insecurities, as his eyes, search what seemed to be the deepest spaces of your mind.
And though you don’t take your eyes off him. You are caught completely surprised as he places a gentle kiss to your lips, his thumbs caressing the soft plump skin of your cheeks as he takes the air from your lungs before pulling away slowly, and carefully as if you were glass.
“You are beautiful just the way you are okay? I love you and only you, and no one can change that, because you are gorgeous both inside and out and I am so so so lucky to have found you.  So please y/n… Try not to put yourself down like that ever again. You are amazing, and I’ll make sure you see that every day of our lives.”
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The sound of volleyballs hitting the hardwood flooring followed by the shouts of teenage boys seemed to be nothing more than background noise. Your mind too adrift to focus on the intense practice happening just before your eyes. 
Instead, you find yourself completely entranced by her. How someone could hold such an elegant beauty was something you felt you’d never be able to understand. Even in the almost suffocating heat of the gym, and the faint smell of sweat, she looked completely flawless- almost as if she were not of this world. 
You suppose you could understand just why Nishinoya was completely at her mercy. She was nothing short of perfection, a true beauty- whereas you felt as if you were nowhere close in comparison to her. 
And the sudden realization has a stream of worry trickling through your body. You knew she’d never shown interest in Nishinoya, but, even so, she didn’t need to. She had him wrapped around her fingers, whether she acknowledged it or not. 
You felt as if you were being paranoid, Kiyoko would never try to hurt you. And Nishinoya, the ever-loving goof who’d stolen your heart was no doubt in your mind faithful, he too would never do something like that. But, no matter how hard you tried to push it away, the small ache that maybe one day he would return to her, settled itself deep within your chest.
The feeling of hands around your waist startles you, shaking you from your thoughts. 
A small smile graces your lips at the feeling of Nishinoya’s lips against the plush chubbiness of your cheek.
“Something on your mind?” 
Unsure of how to say it, you nod silently. Your lips pursing as your fingers find his own, fiddling with them as you search for how to voice your thoughts.
“Kiyoko-senpai… She’s pretty isn’t she?”
The silence that follows is quickly replaced with the thundering of your own heartbeat as you wait for his response. 
But after what seems like an eternity- which was really only a couple of seconds. You can slowly feel yourself being swallowed up by the floor. The walls begin to cave as you subconsciously shift, subtly trying to escape Nishinoya’s grasp.
“She is.”
You can feel them. The tears that gather in your eyes.
“But so are you.”
Turning to look back at Nishinoya, you are met with his signature grin- bright and warm as always, and his eyes- they shine like the sun as he gazes at you.
“Yuu…”
“I mean it y/n… Yes, Kiyoko is beautiful- But so are you. And I have eyes for only you. You mean so much to me, and it hurts to know that you don’t see it. I think you are really cute y/n. Don’t you dare think any less of yourself ever again!”
The tears that wet your cheeks are no longer of sadness as the widest smile you’ve ever had graces your features. It makes Nishinoya’s heart flutter more than he ever thought possible.
“You’re so sweet to me Yuu.”
“It’s what you deserve~”
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The soft glow of Kenma’s t.v illuminated the otherwise dark room as the clicking of the controller in his hands followed by the sounds of the video game he was currently playing filled the relatively quiet space.
Your eyes trailed after the small avatar that scurried across the screen. Head leaning against Kenma’s shoulder as you nibbled on the small snack between your lips.
You thought it was silly really. To be jealous of a digital 2d character on a screen, but even so you can’t seem to help it. And the fact that Kenma spent most of his days glued to some sort of device, a pretty maiden with a body of a goddess displayed before his eyes seemed to only worsen that insecurity.
However, you could never find the heart to tell him that, knowing just how much his games meant to him, and to make him feel bad for something he probably didn’t even take notice of, or had the ability to control was unfair. So for his sake you would suck it up.
The gentle tug of your shirt sleeve catches your attention, drawing you from your thoughts. A small smile tugs at your lips as your eyes meet Kenma’s.
“Which outfit should I buy y/n?”
Your eyes trail back to the t.v, the character displayed shifting between two outfits of Kenma’s choice, both equally form fitting to highlight the character’s flawless curves.
You find your smile quickly turning into a frown, however one glance at Kenma has you trying to play it off as if you were merely thinking.
“What’s wrong?”
The sudden question startles you, but then again you should’ve known better than to hide from Kenma’s attentiveness. He could catch even the smallest changes of details in people, especially you- someone he has grown fond of.
That doesn’t stop you from trying though. Quickly putting on a smile and shaking your head.
“It’s nothing Kenma, just thinking I suppose.”
He doesn’t believe you, and he shows it in the form of a scrunched up nose and a small almost unnoticeable pout.
“You’re lying… But I guess if you don’t want to talk about it we don’t have to.”
A wave of guilt washes over your body, but, you can’t seem to find the words you want to say. Instead you curl your legs up to your chest, and to Kenma you look like an absolute ball of fluff as he continues with his game, choosing an outfit at random.
It’s not brought up again, not even as you feel yourself grow increasingly frustrated, nails digging into the plush skin of your thighs.
“-Kenma can I ask you something?”
Startled by the sudden noise, Kenma jumps slightly, looking over at you questioningly, not ignoring the way you stare almost longingly at the avatar on his screen.
“Would you find me more attractive if my body looked like that?”
He’s unsure of what to say, shifting nervously as silence engulfs you two. The only sound for a long while is the music track of the game. 
“Oh- I’m sorry… I’ve made you uncomfortable… I- Just forget I said anything.”
Shaking his head, he takes your hand in his own. A small shrug coming from his shoulders as his cheeks flush pink.
“I guess if you wanted to… But truth be told, I like you the way you are y/n. You’re beautiful.”
His words leave you speechless. A small flush matching his own coloring your cheeks.
“Thank you Kenma.”
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There was no other way to describe Bokuto other than a pure ball of sunshine. Bright and welcoming with people flocking from all over just to bask in his warmth. And it didn’t hurt that he was quite the looker too. Truly someone special, and way out of your league in your opinion.
In moments like this you wonder how you got so lucky. With your head resting on Bokuto’s shoulder, your gaze directed out the window as he rambled on about something only he could make interesting as the two of you waited for class to begin. The sound of his voice calming, despite the energy that seeps from every word.
You don’t even notice the teacher enter the room. The only thing to catch your attention is the gentle nudge from Bokuto, and the wide grin you love so much before he heads to his assigned seat.
“Today we will be working in pairs.”
Before you had gotten with Bokuto, the announcement would have made you groan. But, one glance at him from across the room seems to make the assignment a little more bearable.
“-I’ll be choosing your partners today.”
And of course you should’ve known better, the feeling of dismay tugging at your lips in the form of a pout as the teacher lists off the pairs.
Disappointed, you can’t help but sigh, glancing over at Bokuto once more who sends you a small apologetic smile as he meets up with his partner. A girl you have come to recognize as someone who was admired by many for her appearance and sweet, sunny personality. 
The sight of them together doesn't bother you much, however, the small ball that sits at the pit of your stomach can’t be helped as she smiles up at him with a grin that almost seemed to rival his own… You had to admit, they were cute together.
Sucking it up you decide to push the thought away as best as you can. However, it doesn’t seem to be as effective with the occasional glance in their direction. It was like watching two angels, pure and bright. 
Luckily, the end of the class as well as the school day, arrive faster than you had expected it. And with a new found energy you find yourself bounding over to Bokuto- who you find happily conversing with his partner, the topic having changed from school to general personal topics. 
And much to your dismay, it doesn’t take long to notice the hand on his bicep. Her small frame leaning in close to his, eyes shining as if hearing about his assignment for a different class were the most interesting she had ever heard in her lifetime. 
You watched with wide eyes, suddenly nervous to approach the pair that shone like the sun. 
So instead you wait, busying yourself with some other mundane tasks, because surely he’ll be done soon- Bokuto has always been social anyway, it would be rude to suddenly pull him away now, especially when he looks like he’s having a good time.
 But seconds quickly turn to minutes, and Bokuto has yet to pull himself from her grasp. And you find yourself growing tired. 
Timidly you walk up to Bokuto, hand gently tugging his blazer, which he seems to immediately understand.
“Ah- See you tomorrow r/g/n-chan.”
Bokuto takes your hand in his own, bidding the girl goodbye with a small wave as he practically drags you out of the classroom.
The walk home is quiet, much too quiet for Bokuto’s liking. The tension thick in the air as you walk a distance away from him rather than holding his hand like you normally do.
“y/n-chan? What’s wrong?”
Stopping in your tracks, you direct your gaze to the ground, pout present on your face as Bokuto reaches out to hold you soft jawline, turning your attention towards him.
“Do you like her?”
Shocked his brows furrow.
“Ehhh? What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know… She’s just so pretty and nice- You two looked like you were getting alone… And I figured it was only time for you to want someone… Like her.”
Bokuto frowns, his hands moving quickly to engulf your plump body.
“Don’t you ever say that… You’re beautiful too- if not more. I don’t care if she’s skinny- or whatever! I only have eyes for you, no one else… You’re so silly- to not see just how gorgeous you are…”
“Thank you for making me feel better. I love you Kou.”
“Of course y/n… I love you too- forever and ever.”
“That’s quite a long time.”
“I know, but that’s okay- I want to spend it with you, and no one else.”
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bluebellhairpin · 4 years ago
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No More
Fantasy AU!Levi Ackerman X Fem!Reader
Part One - No Feelin’ - Part Three - No Regrets 
A/N: SO I wrote a piece for a Discord Event and ummm I wrote a part two? instead of anything else I have backed up? In my drafts? And ask box? Oopsie? - Nemo
Summary: A year past, and word from you has been scarce to none. After leaving Levi high and dry last time, he’d been preparing for your return ever since. What he didn’t expect was to see you so suddenly - sitting atop the throne he was supposed to protect. 
Warnings: Violence. Language. Character Death. Blood (I feel I should emphasise this one, it’s... gorey. For me). Mentions of rape. Slight Misogyny. More of my bad poetry. MC says Zeke has a small pp. 
Listening to: ‘MORE’ by K/DA (slowed) - ‘When I go it’s for gold yeah, they cool but I’m cold. I don’t fit in the mold, I’m a rebel.’ 
Series Masterlist
Masterlist 
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There was something about the eerie silence that followed your first ‘visit’ that set Levi on edge. 
He remembered how quiet you were as his subordinate. How you stood back and watched when you could, but managed to surprise everyone when you had to get in and get dirty like all those others training to be a knight. He wondered what he could’ve done to change things, to have stopped you from becoming that monster he fought in the throne room. 
He knew there was nothing he could do about that now, but something about those last words you spoke to him - ‘find your advantage’ - they just stuck with him. 
He knew the sword he was given was special. That it had abilities that no human blacksmith could’ve given it. It gave him strength. Immunity. It could heal, rebuild, and it gave him the ability to endure. Yours was not like that.
The people the King put in charge of studying it said it was destructive. That everyone who tried to wield it in the past had suffered nothing but pain, and in trying to control the power it held they’d only succeeded in killing themselves. 
Levi knew that you were not like them. Not before. Not a year ago. He knew, not now either. 
“You’re very diligent in welcoming me back, Little Captain.” 
And how he hated it. 
He was left frozen in shock, watching you as you sat atop the throne - legs crossed, the fingers of one hand tangled in the hair of the old king’s body-less head, while the other held that damn sword. The crimson of his blood matched your tainted skin, dribbling down your arms to match your bright veins, and the color of your dreaded blade. 
It was like the color of corruption was red, and you were so soaked in it that it stained the floor. With that thought he could almost fool himself into thinking it wasn’t the king’s blood at all.
Except for the stench of it. It was like he was punched in the face with the reek.  
“Oh don’t look so surprised,” you said, tutting at him and waving the kings head in his direction, “I thought you would’ve been preparing for my return.” 
“You weren’t supposed to come back.” 
“Oh, but the king was sitting so nicely on his throne just then, I had to.” You said, letting the head drop to the floor. It rolled down the stairs, meeting it’s limp and pale counterpart. “Can you just imagine my joy when he was here to welcome me with a pretty little concubine between his legs. I couldn’t help myself!” 
“You’re insane!” he said, taking his sword in his hand and rushing up the stairs to be met with the tip of your sword at his throat.
“Ah ah,” you said, “You pledged your life to the crown, to serve and protect. I killed the old king, now the crown is mine.” 
He grit his teeth, cursing himself for not noticing. For not being fast enough. Then, and now. 
“Bow. To your new Queen.”
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Levi would never admit how easily he obeyed you.
Despite knowing he had the power to over-power you, he didn’t dare use it. 
The old King - Fritz - had not been laid to rest. As far as he knew you had him turned to garden mulch. Him and anyone who decided you weren’t fit to wear the crown. 
He had to say, the rebellion that broke out once your position was made public - from those that wanted you gone, and those who thought that meant they could break the law because you did - was silenced much quicker than he’d seen a rebellion be silenced in his whole life. 
You slaughtered those who stood at the castles gate, pushing those who wanted you gone with a heel to the back of their heads. They who rebelled against you had a choice - die like those who banged on the drawbridge, and have their blood and innards join the muck in the moat, or submit like the knights. 
Then you took to the streets and made those who deserved it pay back what they had taken. If they stole from a market stall, they returned with interest. If they decided to rape, their manhood was taken. If they decided to kill, they paid with their own lives in turn. 
So despite your aloof yet demanding nature, your lack of empathy, and love of - putting it lightly - a hunt, you made peace reign over the kingdom. That was something all the knights could admit.
“She’s kinda hot though.” His eyes snapped over to a newer knight, Flotch, who was muttering to Jean, who was in turn doing a very good job of ignoring him. “You know, if you take away the creepy eyes, and those nasty veins on her arms. I’d tap that.” 
He had to resist from groaning. Of course there’d be people lewding their new ruler - a murderous one no less - and one of such people had to be one of his subordinates. 
“Seriously though, look -”
“- Watch your tongue, young one.” A voice said, and Levi did a doubletake to find you behind Flotch with a clawed hand around his throat. “Diminish me to a piece of flesh like that again and I’ll brand your forehead with a big fat ‘M’.”
“W-what’s that supposed to mean?” he slurred, his own grip now ghosting over yours.
“‘Misogynist’.” you hissed, tightening your grip on his throat before withdrawing, leaving dripping red marks behind. He stood still for a few short moments, then doubled-over, clutching his neck and letting out garbled noises of pain. 
“Serves him right.” Jean said, stepping past Levi and over Flotch’s legs to follow you as you walked away. 
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“Something needs to be done about him.” you mused. 
“I agree. For once.” Levi said, stepping to his side to face you before mumbling an addition, “I bet his ass looks as hairy as an ape.” You barked out a laugh - loud, and as smooth as whiskey.
“That would account for the little monkey he’s hiding in his basement.” you said, leaning down to hush the comment in his ear. Levi could tell that there wasn’t an actual monkey, nor a basement, and a rushed glance down Zeke’s body also told him it wasn’t entirely true, however you had been everything but subtle about anything anymore. 
“Do you want war?” Zeke asked, covered eyes narrowing over at you. You tutted him, reminding Levi about the time you directed such an action at him - taunting with his failure of protecting the old king. 
“Would you go to war over a dick joke?” 
He wouldn’t. That Levi knew. No one was petty or childish enough to go to war with another whole-ass country just because it’s ruler said your dick was small. But Zeke was unpredictable. 
“I’d advise against it, personally.” you said, tapping your nails along the oak table, “It’s so mediocre. If I were to go to war with you I’d do something much more grand.” 
“Like what?” 
You smiled, wide and wicked, and Levi was reminded again of who you were. You’d beheaded the old king like he was just an unneeded piece of paper. You’d painted the castle moat red. Despite the good that was no doubt still there - somewhere - you were still very much evil. 
You were still corrupt. 
You raised a hand, performing a universal signal that meant to wait, and then a man came in. Huffing and sweaty, with eyes wide and broken. 
“Ze- you highne- Sir.” 
“- What?” Zeke asked, turning in his chair. Clearly unimpressed.
“Our capital. They… She attacked it!” Zeke turned back around, now looking much angrier.
“What?”
“Oh, it’s nothing major.” You said, waving him off as if he were just a child complaining about his socks not matching. “But your place of residence might have a few scorch marks now.” 
Zeke stood abruptly, drawing his sword, and causing a chain reaction. You mirrored him, drawing your own - abhit longer and glowing red in aggression. Levi drew his, as did the other guards, Erwin and Miche. And the two with Zeke drew theirs as well. 
There wasn’t a single person in the room that didn’t have a sword on them, and not even Levi could say he wasn’t on edge. But you? You just laughed, lowering your weapon.
“Okay, this is stupid. Let’s just -” 
“If you call burning my city ‘stupid’, then I’d love to know what you’d call me lathering your streets in your blood.” 
“Oh,” you cooed, “Looks like I struck a nerve. Or maybe you’re on your period?” 
“Quiet!” He yelled, pushing his sword closer to you. “Or do you want me to slice off your tongue.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
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He tried. 
And much like anyone else who crossed your path, he was lucky to have just left with his tail between his legs. However, him being Zeke, had to leave behind something to be remembered by. 
This particular time it was in the form of a huge gash, spanning across your shoulder and up your neck. 
Despite your all-powerful nature, the power your sword gave you was not one that could heal. It took what it was given, and it corrupted it. So even if all Zeke gave you was a scratch, the power of your sword meant it took that scratch, and made it into a cut. Oozing blood, and pulsating with a pain that made you wince with every heartbeat. 
You skulked away towards your chambers, a bottle of alcohol in your hand, and closed the door behind you. 
Levi knew that it could very well kill you. That’s what you were warned of. It would give the kingdom a chance to regain a sane ruler. It would be good if you died. 
‘From chaos to healing, is where to gain the sealing; 
Where they be kneeling, you’ll have no feeling.’ 
Those were the words you told him the first time you met. But later, after you started ruling and he became your own personal guard, you told him there was more. There were ruins. Books. A whole civilization even. Those two phrases were just a part of a whole. A whole that you knew. 
‘The one who stops the war, to try and reach the core;
Along the gentle shore, they will gain more.’
There was more to that sword than just corruption, and there was more to his sword than just healing. 
Leaning against the wall outside your room, he took his sword in his hands, watching as the symbols along it’s blade glowed up at him from the interaction. 
He could save you, but would it be worth it? 
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leaderoftheduckresistance · 4 years ago
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The Many Long Reasons I Hate Riverdale Season 5 Episode 7
1) Military Propaganda
What the ever living hell is up with the military in this show? Who signed off on this? Is the US Military sponsoring these episodes? We have no idea what the hell The War™ is about. We have no clear understanding of what war Archie is fighting in, nor who they are fighting against; however, we are told to assume that the US army is the good guys because military=good. Every single character from the military this season is treated this way, as if the military is some holy organization capable of doing no wrong. And Archie rising to become a Sergeant in the army is some noble goal that we should be happy about for him. Someone is assumed to be a good person simply for being a veteran; they are described as an “us” to counter some supposed “them.” There is a massive delineation between who is considered “good” and who is considered “bad,” and it is purely based on which side of the war you are on. However, and I will repeat this, we do not know who the US is fighting against. This framing of the military is pure propaganda meant to illicit a positive view towards an organization that has not shown any sign of deserving that praise.
2) Riverdollars
WHAT THE EVER LIVING HELL IS THE DEAL WITH RIVERDOLLARS? I really need every single person reading this to understand that I hated every single moment of this plotline from beginning to end. They are creating a company town. In essence, a company town is a place where currency is controlled by a central body - ie. instead of using the traditional currency of the country, they have created a new currency that only applies to that one town. And instead of getting paychecks in legal tender, you get paid in the company’s private currency. It is a horribly exploitative business practice that essentially traps people within the town. Because if your paycheck is not legal tender, then when you leave, you are broke. You have absolutely zero usable money outside of that city. And within that town, you must buy from company stores, pay rent for your house to the company, get healthcare from your company, etc etc. You get the point. It is a system in which workers are subservient and dependent on the company for their very survival. Many historians have written about company towns as a modernization of slavery. They are awful. They are disgusting.
Unless you are in Riverdale. Then they are amazing. I have no idea why they chose this direction, but they have glorified company towns. They have framed it as Riverdale’s salvation. That is. disgusting. How dare you transform something that has exploited labor and workers for over a century (because company towns still exist) and making it into a happy little plotline about taking on the big guy. No. F*** you. Veronica has created a system in which she is the sole person in control of the economy; she has created a system in which people are dependent upon her currency. This is not an act of good faith. This is much worse than most things Hiram Lodge has done in this show. And to exploit your students, children, into becoming the main catalysts for this system only makes it worse. This is not a positive topic; you disgust me.
3) Education
Okay there is some legitimate educational theorists that argue that schools should teach students to be active members of their community. Scholars like James Beane and Michael Apple have written entire books arguing for the benefits of engaging students in the democratic process, and many of their examples involve lobbying and working with local governments to achieve desired results. There is legitimate educational theory that Riverdale could have delved into for their plotline here. BUT INSTEAD THEY DIDN’T. Every single democratic educator I have read (which by no means is the opinion of everyone) has agreed that the initiatives that students work towards must originate from their own views and desire to enact social change. In Riverdale, though, that is not how this class is being taught. Veronica came up with the initiative and the method by which they were going to accomplish their goal. Then they had the audacity to frame the students as bad people for participating in the initiative THAT VERONICA TOLD THEM TO TAKE PART IN. I feel like I need to stress this point: Veronica did not use them printing more money to teach them about economics. Instead, she shamed them and forced them to do PHYSICAL LABOR to atone for their sins of having independent thought. It is almost the direct opposite of any beneficial educational theory that exists; Riverdale is shaming students for displaying initiative and critical thought while reinforcing that the job is to just do what the teacher says. That is not education. That is recruiting a bunch of underage worker drones to fight in your war with your father. I will stress this again: Veronica is not helping Riverdale; she is simply instating herself as the new dictator. She is the bad guy in this plotline. And the concept that the show portrays this as good teaching brings me physical pain. I will repeat: This is not education. This is abusing your students. Don’t glorify this.
However, in Riverdale’s defense, this style of teaching does line up with the general teaching methods of poor, inner city, schools. Scholar Jean Anyon has written an essay about how inner-city schools teach children to respect authority and follow steps rather than critically think. That lines up with how Veronica is teaching her class. Do I think that was intended? No, but it is right.
Ya know what isn’t right? The racial demographics of Riverdale High. The US schooling system is intensely segregated (if you’re interested, Jonathan Kozol’s “The Shame of the Nation” covers the topic very well in my opinion), and if you were to have two cities right next to each other, one that is wealthy and affluent and another that is intensely poor, you would see a racial bent where, on average, at least 90% of students at Riverdale High would be Black or Hispanic. This has been a problem in Riverdale for years - most likely, Southside High should also have been predominately minorities - but coming after their multiple statements about a commitment to having POC in their show, it is absolutely shameful. How the HELL do you write a season about institutional poverty and education while perpetuating the myth that somehow white people are most affected. It is ignoring and silencing the very real social problem surrounding education in poor neighborhoods, and I would not be so upset about this IF IT WERE NOT THE CENTRAL THESIS TO THIS ENTIRE SEASON. It is awful. It is destructive.
4) Little Concluding Bit
I have more I could talk about here, like how the writers don’t seem to have any care for actual economic theory and how printing 10,000 more Riverdollars would not cause inflation. Or how running into a burning building in front of your students does not teach the right message. Or how firefighting training started with workout drills instead of, ya know, how to put out a fire. Or how the Serpents being minorities and still having the arc of “you think they’re bad but actually they’re good people” could actually have been an interesting commentary on how society views (primarily minority) students that become parts of gangs. But I have to stop somewhere. 
So let me conclude with this thought: this episode was my single least favorite episode of Riverdale ever. It is probably not their worst; that title probably goes to how poorly they handled trans people in Hedwig. But this one struck me personally. This episode glorifies exploitation of labor/workers, the US military, and provably destructive teaching practices while sweeping under the rug full histories of racial, social, and global inequality/tragedy. I want to look every single writer that touched this episode what the ever living f*** they thought they were doing here because what they actually did is intensely destructive. Sometimes you just perpetuate dangerous societal beliefs; oopsie daisy. 
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wndmxmffs · 5 years ago
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Frankenstein
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For the Spoopy Selebration and my wifey @sunlightbby​
Pairing: wanda maximoff x gender neutral!reader
Word Count: 1K+
Warning: i mean, wanda builds a companion out of the body parts of dead people? also some dark victorian themes; quite a one-sided relationship and dark!wanda; suicide
Summary: in which the character builds the perfect companion and falls in love with them, not realising how abusive their relationship actually is
A/N: so this is the second one-shot out of the 6 for halloween! honestly, i don’t think that i’m going to finish all of them by halloween night but i’ll try to post them this week! hope you understand. i know this is quite rushed and worse than most of my fics but i still hope you’ll enjoy :// this turned out darker than planned again oopsies
Wanda was peacefully walking around the dirty streets of London quite close to midnight in her simple dark blue gown and small hat that cast a shadow over her beautiful face, making sure she would get home safe. She did have drunk men yelling after her but she couldn’t care less about them- she simply continued her walk home, knowing that she would be able to start her experiments tonight. Wanda hid her cold hands deep in her pockets where she could feel the small glasses of chemicals she still needed for her work. She smiled to herself quietly and called out for a cab to take her home as it was already starting to rain in the city centre.
When she finally got home and changed into her lab coat which she always sterilized before using it, she took the old and mouldy stairs down to her laboratory. The heavy wooden door always made the most terrible sounds every time she opened or closed it and she knew it needed some oil to function properly again but she always forgot to take care of it- she was way too invested in her new project.
Wanda stepped into the dirty basement of her manor and couldn’t help but smile brightly as she looked at you, the creature she was working on- you were the most beautiful thing to ever exist- according to Wanda, at least. She motioned towards the huge door and it slowly closed while creaking horribly. Wanda walked towards you while you were peacefully sleeping on her metal table and looked at you with deep loving and caring in her eyes. You only needed the liquids in Wanda’s pockets to finally come alive and have a (quite slowly) beating heart. 
So, Wanda quickly started working, and soon, you opened your glassy eyes. Wanda looked at you, completely mesmerised by your beauty and she knew she had accomplished something new and fantastic- but she didn’t want to show you to anyone. You were only hers and Wanda needed to keep you safe from the curious and judgmental eyes that filled London. She needed to hide you away and make sure that no harm would reach you- ever. 
You turned your head slowly towards your maker, then looked down to see your body which Wanda thought was beautiful even though it was built of body parts of dead people. You were not supposed to feel any emotions, but suddenly, a huge wave of sadness and anxiety flooded through you and you looked at Wanda with actual tears in your eyes.
“What have you done?” You asked her with your otherworldly voice cracking mid-sentence and disgust in your big Bambi eyes.
Wanda put a hand on your shoulder and another on your left cheek while smiling at you gently, trying to calm you down.
“I’ve made the most beautiful creature alive,” she whispered, wiping away a tear from your cold dead cheek. You shook your head, still crying before feeling strong and warm arms enveloping you in a hug. Your E/C eyes widened and you didn’t know how to respond to the gentle gesture. You had only been alive for a few minutes but somehow, you had already known you were not deserving of love- you felt like a real monster. And little did you know that this all happened thanks to your maker who knew that you would give all your love to her this way.
When you pulled away and looked her deep in her beautiful eyes which had wrinkles in their corners from smiling, she made you believe that you would be loved in this world. 
Months had passed and Wanda had spent all her time with you- she made you pretty clothes, dressed you up and even did your make-up when your skin started rotting, making you believe that she truly thought you were beautiful. You admired, no, adored her and wanted to give her the world- you always made sure you entertained her well and made her feel loved, all the while forgetting about yourself. You had never realised that Wanda created you for her own advantage and didn’t care about your well-being once she had someone to take such great care of her. You just gave and gave and agve your love, while Wanda kept experimenting on you, making you more and more perfect each day, completely going mad. She abandoned all her work just to create the perfect companion who would do as she wished. And yes, Wanda did fall in love but not with you, as a ‘human’ being- she fell in love with her dreams of the perfect companion. That’s why she kept advancing you, forgetting about your well-being. What started as an odd friendship had turned into an abusive relationship where you were suffering more and more each day until one day, you had had enough.
Wanda had just arrived home from the bookshop and she headed towards the front gate with a beautiful smile on her face before she noticed you standing on the edge of the roof, ready to jump. Her heart almost flew out of her chest at the sight and she lwt her new books fall into the mud next to her feet. She couldn’t let you jump to your death, risking the fact that she would be lonely all over again.
“Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?” She cried out, lifting her skirt to step closer to her home, so she could rush up the stairs to you. You raised your hand and told her to stop where she was standing or you would jump. Wanda stopped and sobbed, looking around helplessly. You meant the world to her in the most selfish way possible. 
“I don’t need you anymore! I never did! I was blind enough to believe you but now I know the truth. You’ve  never loved me, you witch! All you ever cared about was yourself and that’s all! You created me, this monster because you had felt lonely and never cared about my feelings! I’ve loved you completely but you only needed me for your own well-being. Well, this is over now. I have suffered enough, Wanda. And I know you will burn in hell for all you have done!”
Wanda quickly ran with tears flowing down her cheeks but all hope was lost. The last thing she saw before collapsing to the ground was your body made of different people hit the ground with that terrible voice.
Please, leave your feedback in my comment section or my inbox. It would mean the world to me. Thank you!
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boyslaughplus · 6 years ago
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Devlog #35 - Narrative Structure & Dynamic Personality
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(This same devlog has been posted on the 7th March already, but Pectin forgot to share it here, oopsie! >-<’’) Hello! It's time for another devlog, this time about Brassica's narrative structure and the way you can influence the protagonist's, Saffron's, personality (and all the consequences this has). PECTIN had to take a break from this devlog due to scheduling complications, but he'll be back with more character design insights next time!
Before we begin though, we just wanted to quickly announce that we'll be at the A MAZE. festival in Berlin in just over a month! This will be our first time attending such an event without also exhibiting one of our games so we're excited that this time around we'll get to see more of the event itself and meet lots of new people. So if you're there as well, feel free to say hi to us!
But on to the main part of this devlog:
Narrative Structure
As I explained in the last devlog, visually Brassica's presentation is very much inspired by puppet theaters. Just as the UI and the text box size had an influence on the writing itself, the overall presentation did, too. To further reinforce this idea that the player is like the audience of a play, we decided to make the narrator their own character this time. In the narrative, they're technically the one pulling the strings and telling the story but for most of Act 1 this isn't very apparent yet. From the beginning it's clear that the narrator is separate from Saffron, but the first time they actually address the player directly is at the very end after the curtain has already fallen again.
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Since the narrator doesn't appear in the story itself, we had thought about other ways to include them in the narrative since it wouldn't make much sense to make them a character but not give them any significance outside of telling the story. In the context of a theater performance it made the most sense to us to let the narrator (or performer) and the player (or audience) interact with each other. Especially in children's theater it's fairly common that the actors will ask the audience to do something or ask them a question to keep them engaged in the play. In the format of a visual novel this seemed like a great parallel for the choices so we decided to treat them similarly.
Aside from improvisational theater, the audience usually doesn't have much say in the actual course of a play though, so this was another issue we had to address. The most interesting idea to us was to create a rift between the story the narrator wanted to tell and the story the audience wants to see. Initially we had planned to treat this more like a conflict and almost made the narrator the antagonist. Because the player would basically force the narrator to change their story, they would in turn expect the player to take it in a direction that is coherent and makes sense. With this idea, in-game choices would have been a lot more stressful and we would have had to include various forms of a fail-state at all branching points so even if it might have been interesting in theory, we quickly realized that for the kind of lighthearted story we wanted to tell with Brassica, it didn't really fit and actually took away from the experience.
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So instead we decided to keep the basic conflict but make the narrator and player collaborate in telling a story both of them are happy with. This immediately made everything more positive and while there's definitely less conflict now, we have planned a few things to still make the most of the theater concept...
Since Act 1 serves to introduce the actual story of the "play" so to speak, the parallel narrative about the narrator is mainly in the background. In the beginning of Act 2 you can already see a few more instances where they directly turn to the audience (or vice versa) but our main focus will still be with the story of the princes. In the coming Acts however, there will definitely be more of these moments to make sure the theater concept isn't just a visual gimmick. But I'll go more into detail on that once you could actually see it all in-game!
Dynamic Personality
Something else we had planned fairly early on, was the fact that Saffron is our first protagonist whose personality the player can directly influence. Because he still takes part in conversations this is only to an extent, but on top of his base personality, there are three distinct nuances of Saffron that you can go for:
Internally we call them "lawful", "daring", and "soft" and pretty much every choice in the game (that isn't just between the narrator and the player) is recorded to keep track of whichever of these is the most prominent in any given playthrough.
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So at various points in the script, we check Saffron's current personality and depending on the result, the story can change. This varies between minor wording differences, whole unique sections of dialogue or narration, or actually different events although the latter is also the rarest case.
In practice, moments in the script where this becomes relevant can look like this (slight spoiler alert for Act 2):
if checkSafAlignment("daring"):    saf "Actually, I think I disagree.{w=0.3} You're not just anybody else to me." elif checkSafAlignment("soft"):    saf "A-actually, I don't treat everybody like this..." else:    saf "Well, everyone deserves respect, regardless how strange they may be."
Essentially Saffron always says the same thing here but when he's daring, it is kind of one of those "This isn't good, it's great" kind of sentences, while his soft version mostly sounds nervous and the lawful one rather rational.
An example for greater variations due to different personalities would be this (also Act 2 spoilers):
menu:    saf "W-well uh...{fast}"    "I suppose it might be interest~":        [...]    "I uh, was just checking on you":        [...]    "*faint*":        $setSafAlignment(2)        if checkSafAlignment("soft"):            "On the spot Prince Saffron fainted, overwhelmed by the other prince's question."            [...]        else:            "Prince Saffron tried his hardest to faint in order to escape the predicament of answering the question."            "But unfortunately he only managed to feel a little dizzy."
This second example also shows that even though the choices themselves already have an effect on Saffron's personality, the actual results could still vary depending on previous choices. So in this case, going for the "soft" answer might only work out as expected if Saffron is already soft.
Of course either of these variations have to fit into the general flow of the dialogue and narration and eventually have to return to the main branch, but even so they should make the overall experience more interesting and hopefully also add some surprises to the same events on different playthroughs!
Aside from script variations, Saffron's personality also influences the romance aspect of the game as both Hans and Ode have different preferences and might take more of a liking to a certain version of Saffron. We don't intend it to be very difficult to romance either of them (after all this is a Marry Tale!) so this takes the form of a bonus and Saffron's personality isn't the main deciding factor for which route you will get.
So yeah, those are about all important things to say on the matter! We are still in the process of finishing up Act 2, which was a little delayed this week due to administrative work we had to take care of at the studio but we will let you know when we have the release date for it!
We'll be back with another devlog in two weeks, so as always, thank you so much for reading and for your interest in our games <3
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elizas-writing · 6 years ago
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We’re about 3 months away until the long anticipated release of the one, the only, the extraordinary, Kingdom Hearts III! Almost 14 years of waiting with about a dozen side games and HD re-releases are finally building up to this grand moment for video game fans. And like most other fans out there, I needed a serious catch up to remember all the convoluted lore and relive all the good times and bad with our favorite Keyblade wielders and Disney team members.
Since I don’t have all of the games on hand, much less the time to play the ones I own, I went to the wonderful world of YouTube and over the course of two months binged through about 30 hours of content, right from the very beginning! It was so much fun to relive all the series highlights, finally watch the newer content in the HD re-releases, and pick up on the little details I missed the first time around. And I thought I’d share some of the wonderful thoughts going on in my head during my binge.
Without further ado, here are Eliza’s silly but honest taglines, asides, observations, and comments of the Kingdom Hearts series!
Kingdom Hearts
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The OG most ambitious crossover
I’ve been in this world for three hours and CAN’T FIND THE NEXT CHECKPOINT.
I know we jab at Chain of Memories for its awful gameplay, but I legit-erally didn’t finish the Atlantica world cause I had no idea where the fuck to go next. Even for a 2002 game, the mechanics were a nightmare sometimes.
Sometimes having every other world set up like a labyrinth is too much work than it’s worth.
Seriously, you have to talk to Aerith a million times to get Curaga. How the fuck were you supposed to know that without the Internet or a strategy guide??
Came for the bizarre mix of Disney and Final Fantasy– stayed for the characters and mildly convoluted story.
Just gonna add this in with the other “the power of friendship” crap I love.
  Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories
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Worst. Fucking. Fighting. System. EVER.
You ever wonder how the board meeting went for this game?
“So it’s, like, 50% the same game again, but shitty.”
I’m here to button mash, not strategize like Magic the fucking Gathering
This is the one where all the hot villains show up, right?
Just don’t let Axel’s bad boy facade fool you. He’s a finger guns bisexual with bad dad jokes.
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10/10 will steal your girlfriend, boyfriend and nonbinary significant other
Every time someone says “memory,” take a shot.
Also, are we never gonna talk about where Pluto went with that letter? Are we supposed to accept he just comes and goes however he pleases?
  Kingdom Hearts II
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The best one. You can’t change my mind.
One man’s convoluted revenge scheme at the cost of, like, 5 teenagers’ mental well-beings.
I’ve only known Roxas for 6 days, but if anything happens to him, I’ll kill everyone in this room and then myself.
So Ansem wasn’t really Ansem. You see, he was this scientist’s apprentice who– aaaaaand I’m lost.
If your fandom experience at this point didn’t include calling Xemnas “Mansex” or listening to Dr. Bombay’s “My Sitar” to cope with Demyx’s 2nd boss battle, you did it all wrong.
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We all made fun of Demyx for needing a notecard for his mission, but my work desk is a cluster of reminders and sticky notes, so I can’t judge anymore.
The beginning of the longest, most painful wait for a sequel.
I’m sure Haley Joel Osment is a chill dude, but who the fuck allowed him to sing?
  Kingdom Hearts: 358/2 Days
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Area Man Tries to Balance Life Between Work, Broken Marriage, and Two Adopted Kids in Existential Crises
Spoiler Alert: It ends horribly for everyone involved
When the realization set in that he became a father
Saix being a bitch
Family drama
Seriously, Saix, the last time I saw a man this pissy about his friend spending time with someone else was The Road to El Dorado. And Tulio and Miguel were supposed to be a gay couple.
Well, that was a depressing ass backstory on why Roxas has two Keyblades
“Who am I?!”
Anyone out there still calling Xion a Mary Sue better apologize to my daughter in the next five seconds.
The Organization’s HR complaint box probably looks like a tornado blew through it…
At least they seem to have good enough health insurance since their youngest members tend to fall into month long comas.
  Kingdom Hearts: Birth by Sleep
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Remember when Xehanort was a scientist’s apprentice who went AWOL? Think again, bitch!
The point where you realize this is all just a long, cruel, brutal DnD campaign
It’s best if you just don’t get emotionally invested in any of the characters. No one has a happy ending.
How one man’s total lack of self-awareness and critical thought dooms the universe
No, seriously, I’m sorry, Terra is a massive idiot. Master Xehanort doesn’t even have to try hard to manipulate Terra; he’s just that goddamn dense and does a lot of stupid shit on his own. These are facts.
I can’t even handle the secondhand embarrassment of his Neverland visit where he thinks Peter Pan is after the light when he was guarding a literal treasure chest, like, that’s just too dumb.
I still love him and wish him a wonderful redemption, and he definitely didn’t deserve losing his friends, family and his free will, but there were so many avoidable stupid disasters if he didn’t just blindly trust the wrong people.
Terra is the physical embodiment of “I am not a clever man.”
Forget the darkness in his heart– I’m more concerned about how many worms are eating his brain.
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Terra, this bitch just asked you to cut out the heart of a 14-year-old girl, and you just went “chill.” Did you already forget your last oopsie with Aurora?
Loving mother left to clean up her husband and son’s messes…. all of them…
She’s about a couple steps away from becoming a wine mom to get through this shit.
As you can see, the main difference between Ventus and Roxas is that one is a literal ray of sunshine who did nothing wrong, and the other is a mass of anxiety who says “fuck” more often than he’s allowed to.
  Kingdom Hearts: Coded
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The one everyone forgets existed.
Guys, I just wanted to know what Mickey’s letter said. I didn’t ask for another whirlwind adventure.
The most outrageous excuse for a midquel, but dammit that last bit in Castle Oblivion… I’m gonna need a moment to recollect myself.
Yeah, if this bit didn’t get you emotional, get out of my house.
What do you fucking mean Xehanort isn’t fucking dead??
  Kingdom Hearts: Dream Drop Distance
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Wait a minute, all Terra and Aqua had to do for their Mark of Mastery was hit some balls and spar each other. Why do Sora and Riku need to go through coma nightmares and fever dreams??
Just… just give up questioning the lore…
So Ansem the Wise made a copy of his computer, and that’s a sleeping world where Jeff Bridges exists, I– I’m done.
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And if this didn’t break your heart just a little bit, we can’t be friends.
Had the potential to just be Kingdom Hearts III if Nomura wasn’t too deep in perfecting those renders
We’re gathered here today in the bonds of just a couple of guys being dudes.
But seriously, there is zero heterosexual explanation behind Sora and Riku’s Sound Ideas coming together to make “Dearly Beloved.”
So is Ienzo really gonna gloss over the fact Lea stood by while a clone sucked out his life force? … Okay…
I’m still bothered by the fact Young Xehanort and Haida from Aggretsuko have the same English voice actor, because they’re total opposite energies.
  Kingdom Hearts X [chi] Back Cover
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“Traitor!”– Ben Solo-Organa, Star Wars VII: The Force Awakens
I’m surprised no one took a step back and said “Guys, maybe the Master was fucking insane and trying to dupe us all with this Book of Prophecies shit.”
I’m sorry, I can’t trust anything the guy says or does. He put his FUCKING EYEBALL IN A KEYBLADE FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES.
Not to mention, he purposefully made them keep their roles a secret from each other which made misunderstandings pile on top of each other, like, dude!
I’m sticking to the theory that there was never a traitor, and he just pulled this out of his ass for the drama of it all.
Does no one in these games sit down and talk through their problems like normal people do? Again, worms in the brains…
Friendly reminder that cute Keyblade wielder avatar you made likely died in the Keyblade War.
I have nowhere near enough time to wade through like 900 quests worth of content in an ongoing game, and I don’t know how much I’ll need for Kingdom Hearts III…
Like, apparently Ven time traveled?? The fuck??
“What’s in the box?!”
  Kingdom Hearts 0.2 Birth by Sleep A Fragmentary Passage
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If you thought that title was a mouthful, wait for the onslaught of feelings!
“The things I do for love.”– Courage, Courage the Cowardly Dog
The most beautiful and emotional game demo in the universe
I wanna eat all the rocks
I just want my wife to come home and be able to rest.
“Please, God, just let me have one good day?”
“Oh my God, you again?? Give it a rest buddy!”
Kingdom Hearts III is RIGHT there! I can see it, I can taste it, I can smell it, it’s so goddamn close that I can hear the angelic choir singing Kumbaya. I haven’t been teased this bad since BBC Sherlock series 3.
  Kingdom Hearts III (based on all current information from trailers and conventions)
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You get Norted, and YOU get Norted! Everyone gets Norted!!
Impractical zippers and belts are so 2005. Now everything is about plaid and excess buttons.
“I want to see my little boy (Here he comes) I want to see my little boy!”
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What is he doing? His best. Also, get a load of the detail work on his hands.
Xion and Naminé are on the box art, so they have to be in the game, BUT WHY AREN’T THEY IN THE TRAILERS YET? WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DAUGHTERS?
“The ending is going to be difficult for fans to handle.” I’m sorry, Nomura, but I forgot how to read for a moment there and will be in a horrible state of denial for the next three months.
If you’re calling that Heartless doll your waifu, congratulations, you’d be the first to die in a horror movie.
For fuck’s sake, it’s emitting black smoke and has the penetrating eyes of death. It must be burned.
And there you have it, folks! Most every silly thought that went through my wonderful brain through my Kingdom Hearts binge! It was worth putting off many of my other shows to refresh my memory on the lore— as contrived as it is multiple times—, see all my favorite characters, relive the greatest moments, and get pumped for what’ll come next in Kingdom Hearts III. I can already tell it’s going to be a great one, and I can’t wait to start playing!
Funny Observations of the #KingdomHearts Series We're about 3 months away until the long anticipated release of the one, the only, the extraordinary, Kingdom Hearts III!
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thalassomania · 7 years ago
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so here’s my super-duper belated @danganronpasecretsanta​ gift for @ofdesperationis​. it’s not finished--i’ve been a complete mess for a while now and i’m becoming aware that i may never be able to get this done.
but i wanted to submit what i have because i wrote approx. 14 pages and 8600 words. there was supposed to be more here and maybe there will be at some point but here’s everything i had.
trigger warnings include a lot of unreality, violence, and way too much despair. also spoilers for dr1, sdr2, dr3, and probably ndrv3 but i can’t remember at this point. i’m sorry, agh... i hope this is suitable at best. i can send other plot details too if need be.
main characters: junko enoshima, mukuro ikusaba, izuru kamukura
Junko Enoshima was a queen.
“Princess” was far too childish of a name for her, “empress” was nice but altogether too serious, and “Her Glorious Majesty of Despair” was apparently a mouthful. Being called a queen was precisely what she wanted, and she lived for it.
Any queen of her stature deserved a palace, and Junko was proud of her own. She placed a gloved hand over her forehead like a makeshift visor as she observed the castle's towers, stretching upwards into the sky. Her home was perfect, just as she was; unfortunately, though, her garden was still in need of work.
With a sigh gently carried by the breeze, Junko returned to her task. She turned toward her rose bushes and gingerly trimmed some wayward stems, wielding an oversized pair of rose-gold scissors and humming to herself. She paused occasionally to pluck a rose and place it in her cascade of pinkish-blonde hair, slowly becoming the closest possible approximation to a human bouquet.
As she reached out to pick another flower, her routine was interrupted with a sharp jab into her finger. “Ah!” she exclaimed, pulling her hand back. A thorn had made a minute hole in her pristine white glove, and a droplet of blood had begun to stain the area.
It was so charming that Junko couldn't help herself—she let out a stream of giggles as she held her pricked finger in front of her face. There was something uniquely endearing about it, especially when she considered what would happen if her blood didn't clot. Each time she raised her hand more ichor would fall from it, until anemia got the best of her and she collapsed, as if sleeping, into the garden that had caused her untimely demise.
The despair of the idea—killed by the flowers she loved so dearly—was intoxicating, as was the smell of the roses in her hair. She twirled, her magnificent skirt almost catching on the rose bushes that surrounded her. As her shoes pressed into the grass, she thought of the roots below stretching downward further and further, just as her tendrils of despair had ensnared those who dared stand in her way....
“Shh. Over here!”
Speak of the devil. Junko came to a quick stop and lifted her head in the direction of the noise. The rustling of the leaves couldn't have been more obvious. With her scissors piercing the earth like a sword, she lifted her skirt and began a silent patrol through the garden. There was at least one intruder in her midst—likely two, one speaking to the other—and she wasn't about to let such things slide. She couldn't deny loving the feeling of her personal spaces being soiled, but she loved spreading that despair to others even more.
There were two of them, as it turned out. Two small girls, too young to have wandered off on their own unless parents weren't an issue; good parenting was in short supply, Junko supposed. The taller of the two had countless clovers woven into her twin braids, so long that they reached her ankles and occasionally tangled with various twigs and other such trappings. The shorter ducked under an obscenely large hat, perhaps to shield her pale skin from the glow of the sun. They were smiling and giggling to each other as they wandered through the garden, and Junko smiled to force down an imminent surge of nausea.
“Hey. Hey,” the taller said, grasping the tiny hands of her companion. “This is nice, right? We can still find places to play.”
The other blinked dully, seemingly half-awake. “Uh...uh-huh.”
“There are still some good places.” The taller grinned. “Let's stay hopeful, alright?”
A slow nod. “'Kay.”
Junko could only watch their banter for so long before uncomfortable memories surged in her chest and she found it impossible to restrain herself. Sweeping her hair back behind her shoulders, she rose to her full height and looked down upon her unwanted visitors. “Excuse me! Just what do you think you're doing here?”
The taller girl jumped in surprise, immediately looking up to face Junko. Her smaller companion followed suit. “S-So sorry, Miss! We...we were just—”
“Intruding where you don't belong is what you were doing,” Junko corrected, folding her arms across her chest. “You have no idea just how much time I spend in this garden each and every day! I'll have to make you pay for entering my private quarters....”
“Please don't, Miss!” The taller girl's hands curled into fists. “We didn't do anything wrong! We were just looking for a new place to play, ma'am...I mean, Miss...I mean—!”
“Hush, child.” Junko stepped closer, light as a spider's web on the wind, and cupped the girl's chin in her hand. Blood smeared across her skin as Junko's gaze darkened, possessed with an ability far beyond anyone's understanding. “Feel as I feel.”
The briefest of locked gazes was enough to change something in the little girl—the light in her stare faded as her shoulders relaxed, her face devoid of expression.
The other girl fidgeted, lifting the brim of her hat to get a better look at her friend. “Nnah...Tenko, what's wrong?”
A sharp turn caused Junko's fierce eyes to meet hers. What little strength rested in her face melted almost instantly, replaced with an uncanny flatness. “...Ah....”
“That's better, isn't it?” Junko chirped, rising to her feet once more. “Maybe you'll think twice next time you try sticking your noses where they don't belong.”
“...Himiko...” the one called Tenko mumbled, her voice soft, “...what are we doing here?”
“...playin'?” Himiko replied, as if she had forgotten the reason she had gone outside at all.
“This is...no fun.” Tenko reached out to take Himiko's hand, but seized her wrist instead—the motion was sudden and painful for both parties, and she immediately set her free. “Let's go.”
Himiko nodded silently, her hat bobbing as she did, and the two children stumbled back into the woods. Junko felt the heaviness settling over their hearts and sighed happily; after all, girls their age were a breeze to turn. She took a deep gulp of the despair permeating the garden air, letting it fill her lungs and settle inside her like a newfound friend.
“Junko?” A voice from somewhere inside, calling her name. “Junko? Where are you?”
Excitedly, Junko let her head tilt upward—she'd know that voice from anywhere. “Coming!” she trilled, spinning around to fetch her scissors.
As she danced out of her garden and into the castle, a few clouds of greenish mist settled around the woods. Beyond them, all anyone could see was the dilapidated remains of what had once been grand buildings, the sorry chunks of asphalt that had once been streets, and most importantly, an entirely decimated campus that had once been known as Hope's Peak Academy.
The clink of a porcelain teacup against its saucer brought Junko back to awareness. Time ceased flowing in her personal chambers—she had no idea how long she'd tuned out her sister's incessant rambling. Regardless, she cocked her head and tried to pick up at least a few words so she wouldn't get chewed out.
“...and environmental conditions are steadily deteriorating, with at least two surviving species of flowers finally giving in over the past week. Though their loss is unconfirmed, they will be assumed extinct until they are rediscovered somewhere in town.”
“Mm.” Junko sipped her tea, which had gone unpleasantly lukewarm. Despair flooded her thoughts. “How sad.”
“Very.” Mukuro Ikusaba bowed lightly, her hands linked. “Is there anything you'd like me to say to the general public on your behalf?”
“Nah,” Junko replied, casually placing her saucer on the miniature table before her. “Honestly, I couldn't care less.”
Mukuro's cheeks turned a blistering red. “S-Sister...please, listen to me. I've been handling your affairs for months now—the least you could do is respect the effort I'm going through.”
“Respect?” Junko giggled into her palms. “What made you ever think I respected you, or even cared?” With a delighted cackle, she stuck out a leg at just the right angle to kick a teacup off the table.
“Ah, hold on,” Mukuro said, darting forward to pick up the discarded pottery as it landed on the carpeted floor with a soft thunk. “Let me—”
“Oopsie!” Junko sprang to her feet and pressed her shoe onto the teacup. It shattered under the sudden weight, splintered shards littering the area around her ruby-red heels. “Seems as if I took a wrong step...upupu! Still feel like cleaning up after me?”
Mukuro lowered her head, her dark eyes glinting with recognition as she familiarized herself with Junko's latest method of pushing her. “With pleasure, dear sister,” she said as she cupped the pieces in her hands, the off-white color contrasting with the black leather of her gloves.
“That's more like it, mm?” Junko leaned back in her chair, coated in enough overly ornate decorations and fabrics to be called a throne, and grinned. “Finally, a task befitting of someone as lowly as you....”
For a brief moment, Junko could taste her sister's despair on her tongue. In the next moment, Mukuro charged at her and threw the teacup's remains straight into her face like a grenade. “Aieee!” she shrieked, flailing ineffectively. “You got me!”
Mukuro instinctively backed away from the thrashing mass of lace, velvet, and porcelain fragments. “It seems as if I have. Feeling the despair yet?”
“Only in the way you know best,” Junko replied as her body relaxed. “Sadly, you're still a bit too predictable...I daresay I'm feeling a whole new form of despair just watching you struggle.”
Mukuro folded her arms across her chest. “Tsk. Fine.”
“I'm growing bored....” Junko stood up, brushing the last of the teacup from her skirt. “I think it's playtime!” With a gleeful twirl, she picked up a large plush rabbit from the foot of her throne and wrapped her arms around it. “Isn't that right, little one?”
“Playtime...?” Mukuro paused, uncertain, before the reality of the situation came to her. “Oh, right. Enjoy yourself, then. I'll be cleaning the kitchen in the meantime.”
“Just because you tell me to do it doesn't mean I will! Hm...maybe you should be the Super High School Level Maid,” Junko called as she left the room, stroking her plush's floppy ears. “All you need is a short dress and some revealing panty-shots.”
Mukuro had an indignant reply prepared, but bit her tongue to stop from embarrassing herself further; after all, Junko had already slammed the tearoom door behind her.
The Despair Castle—a tentative name, but a fitting one at the very least—had more than its fair share of rooms, and Junko had reason to love each and every one. Her bedroom always smelled of incense and allowed her to sleep on the finest of mattresses the world over. Her bathroom gave her a place to bathe in water saturated with rose petals, and she couldn't stop herself from chuckling at her warped reflection in the marble tiling. Even her dining room, which didn't need to be anything more than drab as drab could be, was decorated with flags in garish colors, paintings several feet tall, and custom dinnerware emblazoned with bear-shaped symbols.
Junko's playroom was by far her favorite, though, since it was the one room she didn't have to share with anyone; more accurately, the only room no one else was allowed to enter without her explicit permission. Even Mukuro grew boring after a while, and her toys were always waiting for her when she needed a change of pace. Sitting in the center of the circular room and surrounded by massive pillows and plush dolls, Junko hummed a surreal little tune and ran a brush through her seemingly endless locks of hair.
“Hm...oh, I'm sorry! Do you want a turn?” Junko asked the doll sitting in her lap. She used her free hand to tilt its resin head up and down in a gesture reminiscent of a nod and, with a cheerful smile, began to brush its hair instead of her own. The brush lightly tugged at the doll's pink hair, which ended in graceful little curls at its shoulders—the treatment wasn't doing it any good, but Junko didn't seem to mind. She found a strange sense of comfort in the rhythm of the brush and the way the curls sprang back into place each and every time.
“Feels nice, huh?” Junko asked the doll, moving its ball-joined arms up and down. “Bet you feel pretty silly for having failed me, Ryota.” She turned it around so it faced her, and she found herself earnestly smiling at its lifelike features—the “Ryota” this doll was modeled after had been captured perfectly. She admired the thin lines around the mouth and the faint dark rings underneath the eyes, chuckling even now at the anxiety visible in its features.
“Mhm! Pretty silly,” she repeated to herself as she placed the Ryota doll down beside her. “A panicked mess, too scared to do anything but cry like a baby...I'd be feeling the despair already if I were you. At least you're not alone, right?”
Giggling to herself, she lifted a smaller china doll with a nurse's uniform onto her lap. “That's right!” she said, in a purposely high-pitched voice to imitate this new arrival. “At least you're not alone! We'll never be apart anymore...we can cry together...!”
“You heard the girl!” Junko said to the Ryota doll, placing the nurse next to it. “You and Mikan can be together, okay? It was what you really wanted...or, at least, what she really wanted. I guess you can't really move without some divine intervention, but beggars can't be choosers. Now then...who else wants some special playtime with their queen?”
“Ooh!” Mikan chimed in. “I think Nagito does!” Junko rested on her stomach, now at the doll's “eye” level, and angled her arm so she was pointing to a wall-mounted shelf.
“Oh, really?” Hopping to her feet while trying not to dislodge anything in her pillow fort, Junko grabbed a white-haired porcelain doll and cradled it in her arms. It was well-worn from hours of its owner's brand of play, its hair brittle and paint chipped in places; despite the damages, though, its tired smile remained intact.
“Is she telling the truth?” she asked the doll, stroking its chest through its shirt. “I'd hate for anyone to be lying to me....”
“No liars here!” Junko piped up, in her Mikan voice. “Nagito told me he wants to be with you all day long, and go with you everywhere in the castle! Maybe even...in your bedroom?”
“Is this true, Nagito?” she asked, her pitch lowering at the drop of a hat.
“It's true, milady,” she replied in Nagito's voice—a bit deeper than her own, and just husky enough to sound sick. “I want to be by your side...forever.”
“Forever?” Junko spun around, pressing the doll against her ribcage. “That's a tall order, sir...Just what would we do together for all that time?”
“Well, if we really had an eternity together, I'd let you brush my hair and dress me in any way you like.” She made the Nagito doll's eyelids flutter cutely. “We could take baths together, and eat at the same table...that is, if you'd be willing to put up with garbage like me for that long. If not, I could always eat off the floor with your sister....”
“Even she's better than you,” Junko retorted, poking Nagito's cheek. “I can't put up with your self-hatred and hope bull for that long. Besides, I'm already spoken for! That reminds me....” She dropped the doll, causing it to land on the enlarged stomach of one of her plush bears. “I think I have someone I need to check up on.”
“Please, oh please, don't leave us!” Junko's Ryota voice was wobbly in a comedic sense. “We need you here, miss Junko! It's not the same without you! I'd rather die than spend another moment alone....” The Mikan doll, humorously, fell onto its side.
“Then suffer,” Junko replied to herself, smirking. Her eyes flashed as she pressed her foot into the carpet, just inches away from where the Ryota doll sat. “And who said you were on first-name privileges? I certainly don't remember saying it....”
“Not me, ma'am,” Mikan cut in, still toppled over. “Maybe he's a glutton for punishment.”
“Is that so?” Junko asked, tapping one finger against her chin. “I have a dungeon I need to visit...I simply don't have time to punish you appropriately! All I can say for now is that you certainly didn't deserve to touch the same hairbrush as your one and only Queen of Despair, Junko Enoshima!” A light kick sent the Ryota doll flying across the room, landing in a corner to be neglected for at least a week. When she didn't have time to enact one of her favorite ironic executions, abandonment was always a good second choice: it would leave her victims wondering when she'd return until the hope left them completely and boredom consumed their very souls.
Desiring a punishment was an entirely different can of worms, though...She pondered the idea of someone sitting in the dark for months on end, waiting for her to come back with an execution she'd spent many a night poring over. At first, the thought seemed too easy, but then she reconsidered: what if she came in, prepared to enact a punishment the likes of which had never been seen before...and then ever-so-casually went for a stab in the heart?
As she left the room, Junko clapped her hands and felt her cheeks flush at the thought of sending someone into such pure, unfiltered despair—it was almost too much for her to handle. Behind her, the lights flickered off and the toys were left alone. At some point, she'd have to order Mukuro to come in and clean up after her, but she had more important topics on her mind than her sister wiping dust from Ryota Mitarai's face.
As a child, Junko had never taken time to appreciate the joy and fervor that came with running down spiral staircases; now, as an adult, she was ecstatic to be given the opportunity to set foot on one. The steps leading to her dungeon went downward in a fast and volatile circle, and she often found herself running up and down those steps until her breaths shortened and her heart raced.
Reaching the bottom gave her heart a whole other reason to race. Keeping one arm draped across the banister to steady herself, Junko peered into the darkness of the room before her. The only source of light was the evening sun filtering in from upstairs, its rays teasing against the stone floor. The so-called “dungeon” itself was always chilly—a coat rack near the entrance held two of Junko's favorite winter robes, in case her impromptu exercise routines weren't enough to keep her warm. All she could make out beyond the rack was a hospital bed and a squarish machine hooked up next to it.
Junko took a series of gentle steps into the dark. “I'm back, darling,” she called, cupping a hand around her mouth while using the other to slip a robe over her shoulder. “Did you miss me?”
There was no response from the bed's occupant, though they shifted slightly. Grinning, Junko strutted closer to the person in question—what had once been a well-meaning, if talentless, teenage boy had been transformed into an emaciated, pale-skinned figure unable to leave their resting place. A small cluster of tubes stuck in their arms kept them from moving much at all, seemingly attached to the nearby machine. Junko closed her eyes for a moment to listen to its slow, soft beeping, which quickened as she approached.
“Kamukura,” she breathed, alighting herself on the edge of the bed. “I'm here.”
The figure tilted their head in the direction of her voice, but didn't speak. Their eyes—formerly hazel, now slowly turning red—fluttered open and fixed their gaze on her.
“It's me,” Junko said, taking on a romantic edge. “Don't you remember?”
The figure winced as they struggled to move, eventually lifting a twitching hand to brush their bangs away from their forehead. Though the tips were brown, most of their hair had become a velvet black that made Junko's body pulse with adoration. She was, however, less than impressed with their response, which came out in little more than a dry whisper. “...who?”
“You forgot again?” Junko asked, stretching her legs across the bed and flaunting the shape of her thighs. “I'm Junko Enoshima. I rule the world, in case you weren't aware. You must be one lucky stud, since I'm madly in love with you and all that.” She held a hand out expectantly, her red nail polish glittering in the faint light. “And you are...?”
Their lips parted, emitting a faint wheeze. “...Jun...ko?”
“I'm Junko,” she said as her hand sank. “I'm the only one worthy of such a name.” She laughed sharply, moving some of the tubes to give herself more space to lay down—she stayed cautious, however, so as to cause them as little pain as possible. “And you are Izuru Kamukura...or, you will be, once your brain works again. Don't worry, I'm waiting patiently for that day; well, I am for now.”
Kamukura's eyes sparked with brief recognition, but it faded as quickly as it had appeared. “...I...am...?”
“Izuru,” Junko purred, snuggling next to them. She pulled at the collar of their flimsy hospital gown and rested her hand on their exposed shoulder. Their skin was clammy, but she'd grown used to it with time. She was more concerned about the state of the bed—it had gone unwashed for weeks, and even with medical adjustments and catheters, the smell of excrement lingered. In truth, her prisoner-turned-lover looked pathetic, but she was willing to ignore it; or, at least, until she remembered to ask Mukuro to clean the dungeon again.
“I...zuru,” Kamukura breathed, their voice hitching on a syllable.
Junko nodded, cupping Kamukura's face with her free hand. “Good job,” she said as she planted a kiss on their forehead. They flinched, but didn't react otherwise.
A moment of silence passed as Junko cuddled her mildly unresponsive partner. The lack of noise was welcoming, and Junko felt a happy sigh pass through her body—spending time with Kamukura refreshed her more than anything. When they could move on their own again, she'd decided she would take them for a walk in the garden and show them the world she'd taken over. She imagined their hair, which she assumed would be waist-length at that point if not longer, idly tickling the rose petals. A sliver of drool fell from her lips.
“Oops! Upupu,” she said to herself, wiping her face on her sleeve to avoid touching the bedsheets. “Hey, hey.” She reached behind Kamukura and lifted their head, fingers brushing across the nape of their neck. “Izuru. Look at that.”
Kamukura blinked slowly, trying to clear their blurred vision. “Where...?”
“Up there,” Junko said, pointing toward the staircase. “You see that? The light?”
Without waiting for a response, she continued. “That's the outside world. You can see some sunlight now, but it'll fade before too long and you'll be alone in the dark.
“That's what despair is like—every night, you hold onto your hope up there...and it fades away. You keep waiting for something different, but it'll never come. And that's what the world is like too. That light is the last of the old world. B.E.—Before Enoshima, as I like to say,” she said, having never said it before. “Get it?”
“Nn—” Kamukura whined as Junko tugged on errant strands of their hair to keep their attention. She curled them between her fingers, ignorant of Kamukura's obvious pain. Even as they cringed and tried to pull away from her, a light press of her other hand on their chest kept them firmly in place—the wires in their arms, too, prevented them from escaping. Junko's face flushed as she felt their heartbeat under her palm.
“The world you knew is gone; that is, if you can even remember what it was like. What lies beyond this room is my world...and when you're better, it can be ours. We won't have to share it with anyone. Not even my sister has to know—we can lock her up here and have the rest of the world to ourselves. No one will be able to tear the two of us apart.”
“Ah...” Kamukura murmured as Junko let go of them, causing their upper body to thump against the headboard. Their gaze drifted, becoming unfocused. “...that hurt.”
“Did it, darling?” Junko asked dreamily, poking Kamukura's cheek as she snuggled against them. “Maybe you're starting to feel again. That's a step forward, isn't it?”
Kamukura slumped back into bed, already exhausted. With a soft giggle, Junko ran her fingers across their forehead—mildly feverish, might have to get that checked out—and kissed their nose. She figured she would work toward kissing their lips, perhaps when they remembered how to kiss back. She could hear someone moving about upstairs, presumably Mukuro, but left her to her own devices; after all, this was her special alone time with Kamukura and she wouldn't let anyone take that from her.
Kamukura stared at the ceiling as the last of the evening light withered and died, their consciousness melting away with it. Junko, meanwhile, felt a smile form on her face as she rested beside her beloved. The machine beeped faintly as the duo's breaths synchronized—then, with little fanfare, the sun set completely and the darkness took them both.
Not all queens necessarily had to look down upon their subjects, but Junko wasn't willing to skip that aspect of her daily life. She had more thrones throughout the castle than just the one in her tearoom, and her dining room throne was particularly elegant—a hand-carved wooden model that rose several feet above the other chairs around the table. Though it took some effort to climb onto the throne in the first place, Junko appreciated the perfect view it gave her of her rather sour mealtime company.
“Aren't you going to eat, sister?” she called from above. “There are starving children in...well, everywhere! In fact, there's one in the room with us as we speak, so why don't you eat before she sneaks another nibble?”
Mukuro's gaze snapped to the silver-haired child sitting across from her. She was thin and all too pale, her once-pristine outfit smeared with dirt and dried blood. Though she had been addressed, she hadn't raised her head or even made a noise of acknowledgment, seemingly preferring to blend into the metaphorical background. Mukuro knew her sister wouldn't have any of it.
“Come on now, little one,” Junko said, idly swinging her legs back and forth. “Why don't you try to snatch a pea or two? Children should eat their vegetables, right?”
“They are healthy, yes,” Mukuro mumbled, patting her cheek with a napkin. “So why aren't you eating any of them?”
Slowly and almost comically, Junko looked down at her plate of chocolate-strawberry cake. “...Well, I'm already grown up! I don't need to worry so much about eating right anymore.”
“You should worry,” Mukuro commented, delicately cutting her ham into pieces. “You want your reign to last as long as you do, right? You won't be around to rule the world for very long if all you eat is dessert.”
“Hmph!” Junko crossed her arms and huffed. “We'll see about that. You!” She pointed at her guest, who flinched but didn't react otherwise. “What do you think your queen should eat?”
The little girl cautiously raised her head just enough to meet Junko's blue eyes. “Ah...um...I think you should....”
“Go on. Spit it out.” Junko flicked a few cake crumbs in her direction. “Maybe I'll give you something nice if you answer correctly.”
“M-Miss Enoshima should...maybe...consider eating some vegetables when she can.” The girl fidgeted in her seat, uncomfortable with being the center of attention. “I-I could provide some for her...I know a few good recipes, a-and if you have the right ingredients, we can—”
Mukuro shot out of her seat to catch the fork Junko had thrown toward the stuttering child. “Junko! Would you really want...would you....” Her features softened as she struggled to find a way to get her sister to stop, while their guest whimpered in fear.
“Would I want what?” Junko asked, pointing a knife in Mukuro's direction. “I certainly wouldn't want to eat any of this runt's horrible cooking!” She laughed harshly, digging the knife straight through the center of her cake. “You're no Super High School Level Chef, are you?”
The child's face paled further. “...no, but....”
With a flourish, Junko leaped down from her throne—trying not to flinch when her boots hit the carpeted floor—and leaned in close. “But what, little one?”
The girl's muscles tightened as she managed a small, disdainful frown. “Kirumi.”
Junko's face twisted into a grin. “Sorry, what was that? I didn't quite catch it.” Across the table, Mukuro sat perfectly still and ready to launch into battle should the situation go awry.
The girl swallowed and stared straight at Junko, defiance shining through her chalky features and muddied cheeks. “My name is Kirumi.”
“Kirumi...” Junko said, drawing back like a snake. “Hm. I can't say I've heard that name before...and now that you're in my clutches, nobody will hear it again.”
Kirumi's confidence faltered. “Wh-What?”
“Take a look at this.” Junko turned Kirumi's head so it faced Mukuro and began rummaging through her dress. This particular ensemble was outfitted with seven different pockets in various places on the skirt, just in case she needed a secret weapon. “My darling sister and I are going to play a game.”
Mukuro pushed her chair out and got to her feet. “I'm not interested, Junko. Actually, there's something I've needed to talk to you about—”
“Ah-ah-ah! Too late!” Junko exclaimed as she withdrew a small, but needle-sharp dart and threw it straight at Mukuro's neck. With almost inhuman reflexes, she stepped out of its way, only for it to embed itself in the wall. “You have to play...or else, little Kirumi might meet an untimely end.”
Mukuro's pupils shrank. “What are you saying?”
“You win the game, and I might let her live,” Junko explained, twirling another dart between her fingers. “You lose, and...well, the prognosis is grim for our friend.”
“Wh-What is she talking about?” Kirumi asked, her bravado fading as she watched Mukuro dodge two more darts at a speed only Junko could match.
“You know damn well what I'm talking about,” Junko said between heavy breaths. Her body temperature rose as she sprinted across the room, tossing darts to and fro in a makeshift dance. Mukuro had to vault across the table at one point to avoid a particularly expert throw. “I saw her give you food under the table.”
“What?!” Mukuro cried, twirling in midair to save herself yet again. “You said it yourself—she was starving! Do you expect me to let her suffer?!”
“As a matter of fact, I do!” Junko said, with a haughty laugh. “Clearly, Kirumi has absolutely no fortitude or strength, since even I could refuse such temptations better than she did.” With no more darts to throw, Junko picked up a plate and lobbed it at her sister. “She had to survive to earn my respect, and you had to maintain your reputation as my despair-inducing sibling. Seems as if you both messed up big-time, hm?”
“Enough!” Mukuro roared as Junko hurled another plate. The sounds of shattering ceramics made Kirumi clap her hands over her ears, though she felt slight relief knowing none of Junko's ammunition had connected.
“I said you had to play,” Junko reminded her, sticking her tongue out in mild irritation. “I guess it doesn't matter, since we're out of time anyway.” She spun on her heel to face Kirumi and threw a steak knife straight toward her. “At least we can have a grand finale!”
Mukuro's breath caught in her throat as she made a flying leap in Kirumi's direction, catching the knife in midair and tumbling to the ground. A glass tipped over, red wine staining the tablecloth. Kirumi watched in horror and amazement as Mukuro got to her feet, a bit shaky but alive.
“Ooh, good job!” Junko said, applauding loudly. “Bravo! Bravo, I say!” She reached out to pat Mukuro's shoulder, but she shrank away from her. “Hm. Fair enough.”
“I've been trying to talk to you,” Mukuro said, taking a series of labored breaths. “Something...isn't right around here. It smells like roses everywhere, even when we're inside...haven't you noticed? A-And...and those clouds...aren't they getting thicker?”
Junko paused, as if in thought, but then sighed and folded her hands behind her head. “Nah. To be honest, I don't really care. If something's going wrong, that's your problem, not mine. And speaking of things that are mine....” She lunged forward and grabbed Kirumi, who squealed and flailed in her grasp.
“What are you doing?” Mukuro said, too worn out to put a stop to Junko's misdeeds.
“Finishing this brat off,” Junko replied, as casually as one would talk about the weather. “Why?”
“I...I won the game!” Mukuro spat, reaching for Kirumi. “You said you'd let her live if I won!”
“I said I might,” Junko clarified, squeezing Kirumi's face and pulling it closer to hers. “Besides, you should know by now that I don't play fair.”
“Junko!” Mukuro tried to grab her and knock her to the ground, but the game had left her weakened and exhausted. She slumped to the floor, her knees aching, as Junko's eyes met Kirumi's.
“Do as I do.”
In a matter of seconds, Kirumi's face had gone slack. Her gaze seemed colder, her breaths slower, her body limp in Junko's arms. When she put her down, she immediately stood next to her in a protective manner, looking down upon Mukuro's prone form.
“Now, you...” Junko began, putting her hands on her hips, “...you have no name. You had one at one point, though—and an identity, too. So on the basis of your old life, I'll ask you one more time: you're no Super High School Level Chef, are you?”
Kirumi sneered at Mukuro. “No, ma'am.”
“No!” Abruptly, Junko brought her foot down on Kirumi's, causing the girl to wail in surprise. “You will address me by name, servant!”
“N-No, miss Junko, ma'am,” Kirumi said, trying to keep her voice stable even with the despair coursing through her veins.
“Much better. Maybe you could take care of this pile of garbage while you're here...that is, if you really want to earn my love.” As Junko strutted out of the room, Kirumi tried to yank Mukuro up from the floor; however, she paused when she smelled something familiar in the air.
“...Roses,” she mumbled to herself, squeezing Mukuro's hand with both of her own. “I may have...enjoyed those, once upon a time.”
Outside, Junko's garden continued to grow, twisting around the castle walls and black iron fences. The world beyond her home seemed more distant than before, as the clouds misting the sky grew ever darker.
“Hm.”
“What? What is it?”
“Hmmm.”
Mukuro stood as still as she could while Junko flitted around her, peering at her silky black dress from all angles. The frilled sleeves itched, and the skirt only reached to her knees—Mukuro's bare legs stuck out beneath, planted firmly in the plush carpeting. She would've changed clothes in a heartbeat if her sister hadn't been so insistent about her participation in today's activity.
Junko tugged on the skirt from behind, and Mukuro cringed. “Hm...I think this one shapes you nicely! If only you had bigger breasts to show off...maybe you could actually take your place beside me on the throne!”
“You wouldn't let me even if I did have them,” Mukuro said through clenched teeth.
“Fair enough,” Junko replied, with a chuckle. “You're not the type I'd share the world with anyway—way too selfish, and no sense of humor.”
“Right,” Mukuro grunted. “Sure.”
Junko stood in front of her sister, hands on her hips. “...You don't really like this dress, do you?”
“N-No,” Mukuro said, trying to maintain her composure.
“That's fair,” Junko replied, with a shrug. “Doesn't really match your complexion anyway.” She turned away, wading through a pile of squishy pillows and dolls she had yet to return to their shelves. “Go on and change. I won't look, just this once.”
With a sigh, Mukuro removed the ensemble. Even taking it off was uncomfortable, the lace making her itch even more as she pulled it over her head. Quietly hanging it up on a rack Junko had wheeled in earlier, she let herself relax for a moment. As she stretched her back, she spoke up again: “Junko? I'm done.”
“Mm?”
Mukuro's eyes narrowed. “I said I'm done.”
“Mm, sure.” Junko faced away from her, fiddling with one of her dolls. “Have you met my little friend, dear sister?”
Mukuro tried to keep her temper down—Junko had already grown bored of her and was looking for a new toy. “My dress, Junko. You said you wanted me to try another dress.”
“Huh? Oh!” Junko whirled around, a pale cloth doll hanging limply from one hand. “Of course! You'll like this one, for sure. It's leather!”
Mukuro's gaze drifted as Junko fiddled with the rack, pulling out a black dress that looked ready to squish Mukuro's spine into an entirely new shape. She watched Junko carry the doll alongside her, unable to tear her eyes away from its sad, unsettling stare. Most of its design was simple, complete with blue yarn hair and mitten-like hands, but its eyes were all too real and uncomfortably glassy.
“Do you like her?” Junko asked, shoving the dress into Mukuro's waiting arms. “This is Miaya. They don't make wheelchairs in her size, so she can't move without her queen helping her get around.” She raised and lowered Miaya's hands, making the red scarf covering most of her face bounce lazily. “Isn't she cute?”
Mukuro sucked in a breath as she tried to pull the dress on. “She seems...sad.”
“You think so?” As Mukuro changed, Junko sifted through the clothes on the rack and pressed a polka-dot ensemble against her body. “Check this out. I look like a cartoon character!”
“Mmph!” Mukuro exclaimed as she struggled to fit herself into the dress. “Y-You do....”
“Aw, is that too tight?” Junko was at her sister's side in an instant, messing with the zipper at the back of the dress. “Maybe we should try another one.”
Mukuro's breath caught in her throat. “Another...one?”
“Well, sure!” Junko tossed Miaya at Mukuro with a flourish before ripping the dress off, with extravagant gestures and sudden movements that made Mukuro wail in pain. “Don't you like playing dress-up with me?”
Now clad in nothing but black undergarments, Mukuro felt naked and embarrassed. She couldn't reply honestly—when she considered it, an image of the broken and damaged Kirumi flickered through her mind. “S-Sure,” she forced out, pressing the Miaya doll against her chest.
“You're lying, but that's fine.” Junko threw off her own dress, chuckling at she and her sister's matching lingerie. “You can't really get out of this anyway.”
“Right,” Mukuro mumbled, now burying her face in Miaya's hair. It smelled familiar to her, perhaps like a childhood home...but she only had a few moments to think of it before the doll was yanked from her, and her vision was obscured with another dress thrown over her head.
“My playthings are playing?” Junko chirped, wiggling into a dress of her own. “How cute! Miaya isn't playing dress-up right now, though. She can't move on her own, so I'd have to help her try things on...and this is our fun time! She'll just have to watch.”
Mukuro glanced at the Miaya doll, which was now splayed on top of one of the pillows. She could feel its gaze on her back as she changed, and the more she thought about it the more awkward she felt. She was a child in a fairytale castle, playing dress-up with her sister, but the game had gone on too long and she just wanted to go home.
After what felt like an eternity of trying on clothing, Mukuro finally stood before Junko in a silky black dress with a short skirt. It still had some of Junko's all-too-elegant touches, like white frills and puffy sleeves, but it was generally sleek and comfortable. Mukuro couldn't help herself—she twirled lightly, letting her skirt spin.
“Oh, you like it?” Junko tilted her head back in a fashion model's pose, clad in a similar dress but with pale pink silk and white and black frills. “Glad we finally found something that works.”
“Why didn't we just try these on first?” Mukuro asked, admiring the way her outfit wrapped around her body. “They do match nicely....”
“I guess I just wanted to keep you around,” Junko replied, rummaging through piles of discarded clothing. “Sibling bonding is always fun, don't you think?”
“Sure,” Mukuro said, half-heartedly. Her gaze drifted back to the Miaya doll, sitting in the same place it had before. “Maybe you should invite Kamukura next time.”
“Kamukura?” Junko got to her feet, holding both hands behind her back in a surprisingly graceful fashion. “You'd rather Kamukura take your place here with me?”
“N-Not like that,” Mukuro said quickly. “I just...I have other duties, and....”
“Don't worry! I understand.” Junko giggled. “I'm just glad you reminded me of the finishing touch for today's dress-up game!”
“What are you talking abou—” Mukuro was interrupted with a violent shriek as Junko whipped her hands out, brandishing twin pairs of shears. Laughing loudly, Junko tore into Mukuro's dress and ripped it to shreds in a matter of seconds, leaving a pile of silk and fluff on the carpet.
“Junko!” Mukuro exclaimed,  assuming a defensive position to shield her body. “What are you doing?!”
Junko spun around gleefully and tore into her own dress, creating another pile of fabric to join the first. “There's nothing quite like finding that everything I put you through meant nothing, right? It fills me with an all-new form of despair! Upupu!”
Mukuro cringed and shook her head, stepping away from her sister. Her right wrist was starting to itch, and as she looked down at it she realized Junko had nicked her. She pressed her thumb against the tiny wound and gently licked the blood off. Watching her sister's pathetic motions, Junko continued to laugh. “Well?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Feeling the despair yet?”
With no energy to fight, exhaustion settled in quickly. “Y...Yes.”
“Alright!” Junko cheered, jumping in place with excitement. “My test is complete! I can't wait to try this out on our next visitors...maybe they'll like becoming mannequins!”
Mukuro bit her lip and turned away, one hand pressed against her wrist. The Miaya doll sat and stared at her, a piece of a silky black dress covering part of her forehead.
Long after the sisters' foray into trying on clothing together, Mukuro went to sweep the upstairs floors while Junko wandered into her dungeon. The staircase was littered with rose petals, and the bed itself had a few roses scattered across its sheets. Even the machine Kamukura was hooked up to seemed to have roses growing around it, which Junko considered a rather romantic gesture—perhaps Mukuro had prepared it as a surprise for the both of them?
She nestled into bed beside Kamukura, twirling strands of their brown-black hair between her fingers while they reacted with little more than a half-lidded stare. They breathed through their mouth, each exhale sounding more like a dissatisfied sigh.
“You should've seen the look on her face, Izuru,” Junko said, twisting their hair into a small, makeshift braid. “It was simply...dazzling.”
“I...zur...u,” Kamukura mumbled, trying their hardest to lock eyes with Junko. “Yes.”
“Dazzled with despair,” Junko said in a singsong voice, letting go of the braid to press her finger to Kamukura's nose. “She wasn't expecting the scissors at all. I'm so glad I kept that Genocider girl around long enough to master her techniques.”
“Yes.”
“You could probably learn them too, if you wanted.” Junko leaned in close, her lover's bad smell tuned out slightly by the aroma of the roses. “You're capable of anything, after all.”
A slight head tilt. “Yes.”
“Hm.” Junko propped herself up on her elbows, unable to find a comfortable position. “Do you...remember who you are today?”
“I...zuru?” Kamukura asked, softly.
“I-zu-ru Ka-mu-ku-ra,” Junko replied, sounding out the syllables. “Repeat after me, okay?”
“Ka...mu....” They lost track quickly, pain dulling their senses. “...zu-ru.”
“Good enough,” Junko said, plopping down beside them. “You know you're mine, right?”
“Yes.”
“Mine, mine, mine.” Junko pressed her body against theirs, sleep creeping in with the lightest and gentlest of footsteps. “Forever mine.”
As she fell asleep beside them, Kamukura let their gaze turn to the ceiling. The room was pitch-dark and even colder than usual, and something about the roses was off-putting to them. They couldn't think about it for too long before their head began to hurt.
All they could think of doing was vocalizing—or trying to, anyway. So while Junko dreamed her life away beside them, Kamukura continued to mumble to themself. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes....”
“Junko?”
Her Glorious Majesty of Despair stirred in her bed, but didn't wake up.
“Junko. Wake up.”
She kept on sleeping, tangled in her favorite red sheets.
“Junko!”
Finally, her eyes snapped open and she sat up. “What? What is it?” she exclaimed. “Your queen is trying t—ow!” With a wince, she rubbed her back and felt a noticeable ache. “Ouchies...that really smarts....”
“I assumed something was up.” Mukuro stood before her, looking less agitated and more concerned. “You were making weird noises in your sleep.”
“That's what she said,” Junko mumbled in reply, trying to straighten her spine. “Ahh...How did this happen? Nothing feels right...and I just had the strangest dream. I think. I'm already forgetting it...such despair....”
“Junko.” Mukuro spoke sharply, taking her sister's hand in her own. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Ew, what's this about?” Junko yanked her hand away and stuck her tongue out in mock disgust. “Don't touch me, commoner!”
Mukuro sighed in defeat and reconstructed her emotional mask, trying to be as straightforward as possible. “Junko, answer my question.”
Junko stretched her arms, slowly raising them over her head and lowering them back down with practiced motions. “...Hm? What?”
“Are you feeling alright?” Mukuro repeated.
“...I think so?” Genuine confusion rose in Junko's voice as she tilted her head, her hair bouncing with it. “Aside from whatever that dream was, and the ache in my back....”
“You were shrieking,” Mukuro said, her tone grave. “In your sleep, I mean. You'd stopped by the time I got here, but I could hear you from across the hall.”
“Sheesh,” Junko said, flicking stray hairs behind her shoulder. “I'm such a drama queen. Probably just feeling some unfiltered, pulp-free despair!”
“Please take this seriously,” Mukuro said. “I think something is wrong here. You see, when looking outside....”
“I think you're the one who's wrong. Think fast!” Junko shot up in bed and sprang to her feet, preparing to deliver a mighty kick and startle her sister. As she moved, though, a wave of dizziness washed over her and she found her reflexes slightly inhibited. Having just woken up would dull her combat sensibilities under ordinary circumstances, but this was far more obstructive.
Mukuro quickly swept her leg out to stop her, completely on instinct. It connected with Junko's ankle and she tumbled to the carpeted floor, her hair spilling out around her. “Aieee!” she cried, frantically brushing her bangs away from her face. “Ouchies! Ow!”
“S-Sister?” Mukuro rested one knee on the carpet, though she kept her distance in case this was a prank. “What's wrong?”
“This is wrong!” Junko pointed to her ankle, which was already turning slightly purple with the onset of a bruise. “I should have got you that time!”
“Perhaps we're evenly matched,” Mukuro replied, letting herself smirk for the briefest moments. “You can't win them all, you know.”
“Sure, whatever,” Junko mumbled, surprisingly upset over a bruised ankle. “I get it.” She stumbled to her feet, putting all her weight on her non-injured leg. “Sometimes the underdog has to win for the audience's benefit.”
“I'm...not an underdog,” Mukuro said, averting her gaze.
“Whatever,” Junko said with a wave of her hand. “I don't even remember what we were talking about. You're too boring to focus on, anyway.”
“That's a lie.”
“Which part?” Junko spun around, grabbed a pale pink bathrobe resting on top of her closet, and threw it over herself with a flourish. “'Cause you're definitely a bore.”
“You remember what we were talking about,” Mukuro said, standing her ground. “You're clearly just as troubled by it as I am.”
Junko blinked slowly and swallowed. “I have no idea what you're talking about,” she said, carefully choosing her words. “I'm not 'troubled' at all.”
“We're sisters, you know.” Mukuro folded her arms across her chest. “You can tell me if something's wrong.”
“Forget it,” Junko sang, though she gritted her teeth in secrecy; in truth, she was bothered by her lackluster attempt at a kick. Ordinarily, it wouldn't have been a problem—after all, her back was sore and she'd just woken up—but it felt as if time itself had slowed to incapacitate her. She wasn't sure how to tell Mukuro this, or if she even cared enough to tell her, so she kept it to herself.
“...Forget it?”
“Forget it,” Junko echoed, digging through the bathrobe's pockets in search of a leftover snack. “I want something to eat.”
“Wait, what?” Mukuro raised an eyebrow. “You're...sure about that? I need to talk to you first. Please, look at this....” She approached the window at Junko's bedside and threw back the curtains—the world outside was obscured by soupy, greenish mist. Junko could see her garden if she squinted, but most of the Enoshima Estate was covered.
“...Bad weather,” Junko commented, nonchalantly.
“It's more than that,” Mukuro insisted. “Those clouds...they've never been this thick. Your garden's growing much faster, to the point that it's hard to even leave the castle to go hunting. Something isn't right here, and I need you to know that.”
“I need you to know that I don't care.” Junko swung her injured leg back and forth, trying to balance on one foot as she stood before her sister. “I want something to eat.”
“...Are you sure?” Mukuro asked, her gaze discolored.
“Absolutely-tutely,” Junko replied. “I need breakfast. Come on! Chop chop!” She limped away, trying to look as graceful as possible even when restrained by a sprained ankle.
Mukuro followed along behind her, her tone growing desperate. “But—but, Junko, please—”
“I don't care,” Junko said with a sudden firmness. “I can't think on an empty stomach, anyhow. Hurry up! Breakfast time!”
Mukuro lowered her head, absentmindedly running her fingers across the bandages now covering her itching wrist. “...You just had breakfast before your nap,” she murmured.
Junko turned slightly. “Sorry? I didn't know the underdog was speaking.”
Mukuro sighed, wondering if she'd fabricated the memory. “It's nothing,” she lied. “Just...just forget it, right?”
A light, forced chuckle echoed down the hall. “Yup! Forget it.”
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