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emerywritesstuff · 11 months ago

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Mondo owada x his gang members

Warning/notice: Bondage, smut, gang bang, death, angst, and I changed the backstory of some characters, so it's not completely canon, just a little accurate, spoilers to game "danganronpa"

Plot: Mondo receives his punishment by the members after they find out that he is the cause of his brother's death while him and Daiya were racing because of a challange to prove Mondo's worth of taking over Daiya's place as the leader.

Enjoy~

“Are you ready to start, my young brother?

“Always ready as a man!”

Mondo exclaimed with a bright smile ready to show the people of the bicycle gang that they could put their trust in him and that he was a guy who was worth taking over The Crazy Diamonds–the most famous bicycle gang in Japan, therefore he wanted to prove that by challenging his brother.

They stand on a big mountain, their eyes falling on the huge height from where they are, but because Mondo is known or well thinks of himself as brave, he doesn't flinch or back away. He kept his legs straight and strong with a hint of excitement on his face for Daiya to make a move with his bike.

“The road..” Daiya said to himself, his eyes blinking twice.

Mondo smirked.

“Hm? Worried? Doesn't sound like you-”

As a response to the mockery, Daiya chuckles–an expression full of satire.

“No worries, just counting how many times I am gonna win.”

Mondo tilts his head, his smile fading.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

His grip tightened on the handle of his motorcycle, sending a spike of bliss, his motorcycle moving slowly forward near the edge.

As soon as the surface lowered, his body was forcing through the wind–their cycle streaming on the thin route. Mondo couldn't help but feel nostalgic with his brother beside him as the good ol’ times that his mind wandered off, causing him to lose focus over his control.

Daiya immediately took custody by driving near Mondo-who panicked over his bike taking off the wrong path.

He locked his eyes, his heartbeat increasing, the passage cutting off until he got pushed away, misleading the official direction.

“Brother…?”

His pupils clenching, his body hovering over the sight of his brother shut down on the floor after he fled from the rim to save his one and only brother.

“No, no, no..” his eyes that showed pride now corrupted in tears–spiteful ones towards himself and melancholic ones as a result of his dead brother. His steps abruptly followed upfront, Mondo holding onto his savior, shaking, crying…falling with emotions outrunning his thoughts.

“W-what do I do, w-what will I say—” he couldn't admit his faults, his brother’s last wish was for him to be the leader and as it was said, a true man always keeps his promises like Daiya did-an inspiration for his little brother.

After a successful attempt to hide the body by digging a hole and burying the corpse inside, there was so much guilt stored in his mind, so much he wished it was him that died so he didn’t have to deal with the intensity of his downfall.

“So how did it go?”

His body shivered taking a turn to meet the voice, his mouth locked not being able to form the words to lie straight to the crew that he was supposed to display his loyalty to.

“I won.”

2 days later

Mondo still felt terror after what happened, but he had to act okay for the sake of his promise to be the leader of this group.

He was doing paperwork in his office, being the boss he is of The Crazy Diamonds. The walls were filled with all kinds of posters with achievements they accomplished together��in the newspapers, too.

Though all that victory meant nothing to him, the shame built in his mind as a parasite overtook it.

[Door click]

He looked up observing who came in and the ones in question were the men in his gang, they stepped in having an intimidating aroma.

“What do you need,” Mondo asked, lifting his eyebrow, curiosity showing.

“You know it would take at least a week before you are officially the leader and claim our faith in you.” one of the men replied-named Niko, a tall muscular man with black fluffy hair.

‘’Yet you are here in this office, acting like you claim this all.” Hiro-dark skinned man with long hair, puffy and Black as well towered over him standing near the office table watching Mondo annoyed.

“Ye, and where is Daiya, we haven't seen him in days!” Jiro joined, tone loud and clear, his ginger shining hair as a result of him standing out from the crowd.

Mondo sighed, rubbing his forehead already driven mad from the first disturbance. He abruptly stood up from his chair and stepped forward to Niko, with a swift move pulled him by the t-shirt.

“Listen here, I am worthy of taking this crowd, I am strong and can take any challenge so why are you three so fucking against the idea.” He yelled out, anger getting the best of him. “And Daiya left…He isn't coming back.” With that, he loosened his clench on one of his member's t-shirts.

Niko chortled, not terrified by Mondo's outburst at all.

“What's so funny, is that you are testing my patience, hm?”

“Fine, you can prove it with one challenge and we will let you control this team.”

Mondo's expression slightly softened–confident smile returning.

“Sure, bring it on…And if I don't pass?”

“We won't place our belief in you as you haven't proven your true masculinity to join us.”

“Aaaand, you might have to do something for us!” Jiro jumped in again, being the bold hyperactive guy he is.

Mondo waved with his hand, full of himself “Yeah, yeah, yeah just get it over with.”

~~~

He and the gang pulled over to a strange forest–wind caressing the trees–his body shivered in the breeze. As they proceeded with their bikes forward, the road stopped at a certain place with a building up front.

“What's this?” Mondo asked.

Niko smirked-a filthy one on his face with a spice of wrong-doing, his body stood up from his engine, steps were causing crunching noises on the fallen leaves scattered around the road.

“Now, now~” He brushed his fingers against Mondo's chin, his body flinched by his silky touch yet a straight and tough expression remained still through this all.

“Don’t tell me you are scared, Mondo.”

His heartbeat sped up, spreading blood through his veins fast too, body warming up but what stopped and slowed down was his breathing, reacting to–Niko–the man that kept him in his knees with his hand caressing his chin, after to his jawline.

Mondo got rid of the grasl with a quick slap, causing Niko to put his hands in the air mockingly on behalf of his daring character.

“Let’s go in.”

~~~

So Mondo, by a click on the handle of the door to the warehouse, entered the centre as the first one, the dark empty place sending a chilly tender despite his layering.

As the rest followed behind him, Jiro found the light switch-brightness filling the room, causing the members to look around further.

It was not-so-empty, but there were a few boxes, some cogs, and overall useless and rusty scraps thrown across the floor.

It was clear no one went to this place for a long time and it's just abandoned in the middle of nowhere.

“I thought we would have a race or something-”

Before his full sentence was spoken, a rag of cloth tightened itself around his maw, causing him to cough out.

“Mmf” He muffled, a slurred speech letting itself out from his almost-shut lips.

His eyes widened in shock, his reach grabbing on whatever was holding him back from fully opening his lips, pulling by the fabric out, and then he realized.

“Pfft-”

He turned his head, watching Hiro furiously, angry, and even fearfully.

“Whth esh thsh?!” though his mouth was clogged with the cloth, he was still a little understood.

Hiro leaned closer.

“That's the challenge, now don't refuse if you want to show off that you are capable of what's about to come,” Hiro whispered, his rough breath tingling Mondo's ear–his straggling still trying to escape the grasp, The dark-skinned man rolling his eyes as a response.

“Why are you two staying behind? Help me out with this guy.” He hissed, his harsh personality resulted in the others quickly obeying, holding Mondo down–knees buried low on the ground. The fingers clenched hard onto his skin, leaving behind marks.

“Why esh thsh hhphnhningh?!” Some more slurred sounds served their ears, Hiro exhausted to explain, so with a jerk of his mane, he made Mondo stare up.

“Don’t worry little one, this is just a game to test your willpower.” an evil grin arose.

And so with that, Jiro pulled out some rope, which had quite a crusty fabric, later a metal ball and chain to keep Mondo’s legs in place. Niko nodded and followed with a hold of the rope as his hands crawled to Mondo’s wrist–behind crossed, tying the material around.

It didn't take much longer for him to attach the chain to his feet. Therefore, with just a click, it was hugging his ankles sticking them to the ground.

After their finished job to corrupt Mondo, they let go of him, taking their step back to look at their work, and with a smile one announced.

“So what do you think?”

Their watch remained on their future leader-the one staring back, his body shuffling weakly, the drool created by the clotheted wrap around the corner of his mouth, his resistance to speak or move his jaw smoothly, causing the drop to run out under his lips.

“Let me explain the rules, shall I?” Jiro broke the silence-leading his way towards him, placing a foreign object next to his face, still proceeding with his talk.

“if you click on this button by just pushing your face against it to go off before the time runs out, we will untie you, though you will lose the challenge…” He paused after his remark.

"But."

“If you don't, directing the time to run out without you doing so, then we shall give you your desired reward.” He patted his cheek with his soft hand, to which Mondo growled gritting his teeth.

“Ooh, feisty I like it.”

The members left the chamber by turning off the glow, the room back to its ravenous colours.

Mondo-stuck laying helplessly on the ground, watched the room disappear as only the darkness was with him, watching him.

Now, what was so scary about this for Mondo, you ask?

Nyctophobia.

His panting hitched, and he froze, as if–as if he was scared, Mondo was afraid, for the first time in his life, he felt the only emotion he never understood–it was unfamiliar to him and weak.

He knew he couldn't give in. He had to show his masculinity for the gang–his brother, but the fear of something jumping from the dark messed his thoughts up, paranoidly eating him.

[noise of a fallen object]

His head made its way up, using his neck muscles, gaze pinning on that sound, though he couldn't see a thing. His anxiety devoured its way to his dome, leaving the only option at this moment.

Give up. Give up. GIVE UP.

Paranoia screaming at him at the top of its lungs, finding its way to break him and render him unable to listen to his true voice.

The alarm went off when his phobia won over him, tumult growing.

“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Jiro and the others forged back in after a failed attempt.

One of them switched the lamp on, giving Mondo a sigh of relief, sweat oozing, his breath back to normal.

“And here I thought, you would be able to hold yourself longer.” His voice echoed. Mondo didn't take his orbs off him. Instead, he watched like a hawk, his expression still not recovered after what happened.

The aching sensation–being kept in the same position for so long because of the tight support attached to his frame to keep it still.

The fabric was removed from his mouth, letting him speak, but all he could let go of was his horrendous coughing. There was no threat, no nothing, just a desperation for air, his past lips planted shut.

“What do you want?” Mondo gave a clear question after his rally, knowing it was not only the employment he was gonna sacrifice.

Hiro with his usual expressionless profile followed up, tauntingly stepping forward.

“We found the body, Mondo. Stop playing.”

Mondo’s drag stopped his facial recognition tightening, muscles almost quivering after the words he never wished to hear were sent to him.

They watched each other—Mondo shocked, Hiro unsurprised, he knew it before they even dumped him here.

“Please forgive me, I never intended to-”

“Forgive you? Do you know what you di–”

“Hiro” Niko cut him off, making his way to pleading Mondo, who lay on the floor, unable to crawl his way out nor move. He knew what happened to the members after they appeared dishonest to their leaders, so he closed his eyes, ready for what was about to come.

Nothing happened.

After a moment of zilch, he opened up only to see Niko fixing his hair strands behind his ear. He couldn't understand why he was doing nothing yet.

“I know you didn't do it on purpose.”

A spark of hope appeared.

“But you gotta pay for your wrong-doing.”

His touch went down to his body, caressing his abs, making Mondo flinch with sensitivity. The smooth skin showed itself as a pure blessing to his fondle, so resolved for his ways to please him.

“What are you doing…” He let out a small whisper, catching Niko's attention back to him.

“You want forgiveness?”

Mondo nodded, a smug face appearing on Niko.

“Then give me your body.”

“What.”

“Mondo.” His brush made its way to his stomach, again Mondo shivering in weakness to his gentle caress. “You are such a beautiful man. It would be a shame not to have a taste of you.”

He leaned closer.

“But I won't continue without your approval.”

Mondo was confused at the moment, he couldn't understand what just happened, was him letting them have control over his body be the only option for him to keep his position for the sake of the promise for his own and only brother.

It's the least thing I could do for him after what happened

Mondo made his one last nod, allowing all of this to happen, which only gave Niko and the others joy from this, to the extent of excitement. Jiro put the fabric back to keep Mondo shut, which only caused him to muffle.

“Shh.” Jiro put his finger over his mouth signaling for Mondo to calm down.

“Relax.”

The three members made their way around Mondo, watching him like prey for their pleasure.

Hiro, the oldest of them, took his place in getting rid of the clothes, them going off with a plain movement while keeping his stare, Mondo's nervousness making him titter. The jacket was the first to pass, but not completely, his upper chest was vulnerable, making Mondo squint in pleasure, feeling the air graze his skin.

“Oh, don't look at me like that.” His tone is guilty, but his intentions are quite the opposite, satisfaction from the control he has over his endangered state.

While Hiro was on top of him, undressing his victim, Jiro decided to invite himself in, his palm placed on Mondo’s jaw, shoved off in the right direction, bewitching in pleasure by biting his neck down to his collarbone leaving behind hickeys.

Mondo couldn't remain his voice down, whimpers escaping and forming into swaddling sounds. This, of course, just made Jiro try harder, profiting in seeing a suffering Mondo on his knees.

And so Niko joined too, pinching his nipple and the other, placing gentle kisses like the person he is.

“Ahmh~” Mondo moaned from the intense weight on him, his body giving up on the fulfilment he always craved but never admitted to himself due to his manly nature.

“Your moans just help us keep going, you know,” Jiro whispered in his ear, giving a tickling sensation, which made him melt more, his sumbissive side taking its lead.

Hiro was finished with also pulling down Mondo’s pants, exposing his hard dignity that twitched with desire.

“You are so desperate, so unlike you Mondo, what changed?” Hiro teased him while mocking him slightly.

Mondo didn't respond, just waited for the hooks to explore him, his needs winning over him.

Hiro then obeyed his want, moving behind him while still keeping Mondo on his knees, fingers wrapped around both of his wrists–tightening–to keep them in place, his breath hot against his neck full of marks thanks to Jiro's lustful teeth.

“Jiro, don't exhaust him that much, we will need him for a long time,” Hiro replied to the bruised nape, Jiro snickering, proud of his masterpiece.

Jiro drove his kisses down the shoulder, leaving behind other traces.

Mondo gasped, his body warm–no, hot, burning yet it was not fever but the overwhelming rapture in his body, having its limit maybe crossing it already.

But what was already enough was just the beginning. His back arched in the heat of the moment as Hiro's big length pushed inside without a warning, the tightness clenching and twitching in the entry.

“Shit, you are so tight.” Hiro groaned, his moves quite disturbed and slow giving Mondo time to adjust to the new size.

Though Hiro considered to peek, checking up on him, later regretting it because of how Mondo was reacting, his member trembling, leaking precum, and his body in moisture–sweat running on effortlessly.

It drove him crazy.

So without a second thought, he built his way through, burying himself fully–it felt amazing, like a dream for Mondo, so Hiro started thrusting in and then out, later slamming right back with incredible strength to move as flat as a pancake in his entrance.

“Sh ghth~!”

“What's it, little whore? Good, you said.” Hiro purred, his teeth munching on his ear lobe as if this was not painful enough for Mondo already. Their skin slapped against each other creating erotic sounds as their blows mixed in the air.

Jiro smirked during his mark-making, he stopped with a follow-up to Hiro to distract him by kissing his strait to which Hiro replied with a wail, slowly they glimpsed at each other and their mouths met, pierced together not one to fight the urge to eat one out.

However, it was not enough to stop Hiro, as he kept his fast pace of pounding into Mondo forcefully and fairly. Mondo couldn't hold himself on his joints anymore, his legs abandoning him, But due to Hiro’s tight grip on the wrists, he kept him in place with a pull of the hair in the end, so Mondo whined even more to please Hiro’s ears.

Though Niko wanted to invest himself more, he went down to Mondo’s throbbing dick, his evil regard for it. His lips parted themselves to take it inside–the feel made Mondo heave, the curling hitch withdrawn from his throat.

Mondo felt heavy yet they made him feel easy–to lose control over himself, has he ever thought about this, not even–not even in his wildest dreams but it happened, yet all he wanted now was for it to never end, not until sunrise, until his own very death.

Hiro felt himself pulse, the fumble of longing to release what was about to come to consume him, his moves stiffly proceeding, unable to hold himself much longer.

“I–I am about to come, cupcake.” He murmured with a stutter at the start, his nails digging into the derm of his companion, it was a matter of time until he made his shot and he did, the feeble liniment stuffing itself, small drops departing themselves from his foyer.

Mondo rolled back his eyes, the physique of his–weakly oscillating and so-so calling it a day with a descent on the flooring. The taping material is already soaked from the frizzle, the spit trickling from his mandible down.

His belief of being able to rest and pause for a moment fled when he was again attracted back with a drag from Hiro, his–no their hungry glimpse simply insatiable.

“Oh, you thought it was over?”

#fanfics #fanfic #danganronpa #mondo owada #fiction #my writing #story #writeblr #smut

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imgword · 2 years ago

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love, love of mine, won’t you lay by my side

kuramiyu fic; 1.4k; feat. art student kuramochi facing burnout and miyuki as his personal chef/bf/magical tattoo artist

written for kuramochi’s birthday <: hap birth my moon and stars

In front of his easel, breaths ragged, Youichi gives up. He tosses his brush to the side and it clatters on the ground. Jaw tensed, he wipes his hands on his pants and checks the time. Ten more hours. Ten more hours and he’ll be left to dry in the front of the top faculty of his school, pinching his fate with their flimsy words and arrogant guidelines, and their smug—No. Youichi isn’t fucking up for it. Whatever spills from his mind now is effort from a void and every new brushstroke seems fruitless.

He pulls off his shirt and dabs sweat off his hairline as he walks to the open windows of the studio, pressing his forehead against the windowsill to breathe in the thick summer air. There’s a faint rustling of leaves from the trees draped over the campus, and Youichi’s gaze squints at the greenery to give him another idea, even a wilted one.

A breeze answers him. He knocks his head on the window with a grunt before pulling his phone out for a final solution. Ryou might be up to listen to him suffer. It’s better than the static in his head. He unlocks his phone, and on the screen is a text from Kazuya about dinner.

"Dammit," he mutters. He forgot to let Kazuya know to eat on without him.

Kazuya definitely won’t be awake, but he starts tapping out a text to tell him he’ll crash on the raggedy couch in the student lounge with classmates who are probably past the edge of a breakdown. It’s not like Youichi will be able to get anything done back home, and he can add final touches if he stays in the studio, with or without burnout. It’s nice to have the option. And dinner can wait. He’ll survive. He hits send and hears a ping behind him cut through the silence.

Youichi whips around and finds Kazuya in the entryway.

“Kazuya,” Youichi hisses. He falls back, catching himself on the edge of the window with his hands behind him. “What. The fuck.”

“Oops,” Kazuya says, remorse absent, indifference high. He walks into the studio and places a tote bag down on one of the empty stools beside Youichi’s work. “I was about to call you—” He pauses when he gets a look at Youichi, then asks, “You okay?”

“Of course I am,” Youichi says, jamming his hands into his back pockets. He pushes off the window and heads to Kazuya, shoving aside his box of supplies with his shoe. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kazuya laughs under his breath. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Youichi tips his chin up, narrowing his eyes. He gets close enough that his chest meets Kazuya’s. “Liar?”

Kazuya's fingers slide across the curve of Youichi's shoulder. His touch is light, like the first time Kazuya touched Youichi, in a place smelling of hardwood and basil. There was nothing etched on Youichi's skin then, just Kazuya's freehand sketch prepped in blue.

"You can't hide from it," Kazuya says, palm warm on Youichi's bicep.

Youichi scowls and twists around to look at a mirror in the corner of the studio. There are flowers wound up tight on his shoulder blades, a glow coming from the center of each bud, not bigger than a marble. On simpler days, when Youichi's usual life finds him well, they'd be in bloom, wrapping the tops of Youichi's shoulders.

"If I had a shirt on, you wouldn't even know," Youichi says.

"Okay,'' Kazuya says, shrugging. He walks past all of Youichi’s failed attempts for the evaluation. He looks down on Youichi's last, a flood of messy black that Youichi titled: fuck deadlines and fuck judgment. "My work speaks for itself, but so does yours."

"Shut up," Youichi says, stepping back into Kazuya's space. "You're saying a lot for a guy who only cries when he cuts onions—”

Kazuya wraps his arms around Youichi and pulls him close. He rubs his hands down Youichi's back, smoothing out the tension there. Most of Youichi's back is empty of ink, but Kazuya had placed something permanent somewhere in Youichi, drawing a sensitivity that he can only touch. Youichi finds himself slipping, a sigh lodged in his throat as Kazuya presses his thumbs on his hips.

"Kazuya," Youichi says. "What's up?"

Kazuya doesn't answer, kissing the shell of his ear instead. Youichi squeezes him tight when his lips graze his forehead. Kazuya does it again and again, like a ritual, until Youichi’s dependent on Kazuya’s hold.

Kazuya guides them until they’ve fallen onto the couch near the entryway. With Youichi in his lap, he kisses him until he’s cut through the fuzzy static in Youichi’s head that houses Kazuya’s love alone. Youichi realizes, as Kazuya kisses his temple again, that he’s kissing Youichi wherever Youichi usually kisses him. He’s doing exactly what Youichi would do to him, no words needed.

He laughs for the first time in a week and cups Kazuya’s face. “Stop.”

Kazuya leans back and there’s a shift in his mouth, a frown nearing defense. “What?”

“Thank you.” Youichi rubs the small crease away with his thumb. “I’m okay."

He kisses Kazuya, slowly, opening his mouth to Kazuya’s until Kazuya groans, gripping Youichi’s waist. Youichi pulls back. There’s a peppering of a flush near Kazuya’s glasses, lit up with the red glow of Youichi’s flowering tattoos. Youichi looks down at his shoulders where his tattoos are lit up, lined with gold and crimson, pulsing to Youichi’s heartbeats.

“Better?” he asks Kazuya, raising a shoulder.

“Yes,” Kazuya says, sighing. He rests his hands on Youichi’s thighs. “Stress is a disservice to my hard work.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Youichi says. He combs his fingers through Kazuya’s hair, then adjusts his glasses for him, spotting the darkness underneath Kazuya’s eyes. “You know, you could’ve stayed home.”

Kazuya turns wry. “Mm, you’re an asshole when you get hungry.

Youichi stares down at Kazuya’s lips, arching an eyebrow. “I don’t seem to be the hungry one here.”

“What? I had dinner. I’m fine.”

“Sure.” He raps his knuckles on Kazuya’s forehead. “Me being an asshole motivates you to do your worst.”

“Hey, I’m the nice one,” Kazuya protests, grabbing Youichi’s wrist. “I feed you. I make you coffee.” He nods over to his bag. “I even hand deliver a well-balanced dinner.”

He rises to pull out a bento and a thermos, then shakes the tote bag around to find chopsticks. He gets back to Youichi and sits beside him.

“Oh right.” He pulls out a candle from his pocket and wedges it in the lip of the thermos until it stands in a crooked line. “I can’t light it, though.”

“Keep it,” Youichi says, pushing it away. “I haven’t passed."

“I know that, this is for—wait, you forgot?” Kazuya stares at him confused. He straightens the candle. It looks worse than before. “Well, I guess…can’t make a big deal of it now with your evaluation.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—” Youichi stops.

Behind Kazuya is a large calendar marked with evaluations throughout the month. Between all of it—with small balloons drawn in the square courtesy of Youichi’s favorite classmate, Mori—is the seventeenth of May. Youichi’s birthday.

Youichi laughs. “I’ve blacked out. I really did forget.” He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. “You brought me food for my birthday?”

“Nope,” Kazuya says, fiddling with the cover of the bento. “I came because I needed to see if you were dead.”

“Still kicking.” He slings his legs over Kazuya’s. “So what’re you gonna do now?”

Kazuya hands him his food. “Tell you to microwave this.”

Youichi laughs again, and the stone in his gut lightens. Not enough, but just so that he sees everything a little clearer. He glances at an empty canvas with a small smile, then looks at Kazuya.

“C’mere,” he says, taking the thermos. He plucks the candle out and blows at it, then sets everything aside. He pulls Kazuya in by his shirt and kisses him. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Kazuya says against his lips.

Youichi grins. “Then can you sing for me?”

Kazuya rears back. “Food’s more effort than a song.”

“Not the fairest tradeoff, but I’ll take it,” Youichi says, standing up. He grabs his shirt from his working stool and tugs Kazuya along by the hand. “Let’s go. I’m finally hungry as hell.”

Kazuya stays put. “Wait.”

“Yeah?” Youichi steps back, face turning to him, and Kazuya’s lips are on his.

Then he says, quietly, as if he doesn’t want himself or Youichi to hear him, “Happy birthday.”

#kuramiyu #daiya no ace #my fic #small authors note: this is actually a part of a bigger verse that i never got to finish for a big bang...#kuramochi though has different tattoos #and miyuki's not the only one who can do such magical tattoos #anyway it's fun to write magical things in a small scene without worrying about worldbuilding lmao #also these usually do not have any titles when i write them.......so pls take random lyrics from my krmy playlist instead lol

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