#don't have anyone to share it with so I end up halting my own interests because I'm being overbearing

[catcatb0y]

Not having a definite hyperfix is AWFUL. My brain is a bunch of grabby hands reaching out and out and out. But there is nothing there. No reward for trying and trying and trying.

I feel so hollow that it's horrifying. It hurts.

[darktangledwhispers]

There is collected horrors upon me. (Kurapika X Reader) N-S-F-W

𝕿𝖂: 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋-𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖒, 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉....

I am randomly here now. Don't mind. Just read why don't you?

☂ Collecting your thoughts, racing through your head, you hated this horrid nightmare that kept replaying over and over. He always managed to be one step ahead of you, in everything. His color-changing eyes delved with the witness of torture beyond no imagination, blonde and never-ending soft hair that practically glided through his fingers every time he was stressed. That's what lured you in and now he is right there. In your reach. But managing to look so far away. The pain in his eyes was like no other. How could you manage to fall for someone that's barely there in their own mind?

He looked up at you, his attention not set on the wet cement anymore, but on your apprehensive figure. His lips were parted, you seemed to be staring at them for too long because once he spoke, the movement had startled you.

"Did I interest you that much?" His slick voice escapes his mouth, sounding deeper than before. "I was worried you would stop following me." He stood up, managing to almost tower over you.

You scoffed, feigning disinterest before turning your head back to him. "Why would I ever stop? You're my only lead." You look at him with desperation almost, hoping he won't run this time. Although that was a silly thought. He rarely stayed long enough for you to collect yourself. He always left you breathless. The scent of him caught in your throat as he leaned forward, his eyes flickered down to your lips before looking back up. Kurapika had never once smelt anything around bad. He always smelled like the fresh crisp smell of honey drizzled all over redwood, a sweet but harsh scent, it always made you picture a beautiful forest that had the best dark secrets.

"Why haven't you tried to make me tell you anything yet then?" You didn't expect to hear those words come from him. It left you a little shocked. How hasn't he disappeared yet? It used to be so easy for him too. Now he hit the nail on the head... And so unexpected.

"Why haven't you told me anything if you knew?" You managed to come back with a witty response, a raindrop hitting your nose but you never let your gaze move away from him, afraid that if you even blinked, he would be gone. A smile appeared on his face, only for a split second before he went back to his usual deadpan expression. It tugged at your heartstrings, your knees feeling a little heavier than usual.

"You're right. But what if I liked seeing your skill (F/N)?" Once your name left his lips a shiver ran down your spine.

"How do you know my name?" Your voice wavered now, a little frightened at how he managed to find out. It would've taken a lot for someone to find your name, if not years. You barely told anyone your name.

More raindrops found their way onto your burgundy coat and on Kurapika's reddish-pink nose. It looked like he was really cold from the flush on his cheeks. He looked down, not giving an answer.

Thinking that he would escape now, you sighed and your shoulders dejected, looking at the grey bricked sidewalk. You turned. "You've seen my skill enough then. We weren't supposed to get close like this. I have an objective. So do you." Before you knew it, cold harsh words left your lips. Kurapika's eyes showed a tinge of discomfort to them, the curiosity leaving and replaced with what could only be described as worry. His newfound interest, leaving him? Oh, that wasn't a good thought at all for him. But you didn't know your effect. You thought it was just your silly mind... Playing tricks...

Your dark cerulean boots hit the scattered puddles on the ground, leaving the traumatized blonde on his own, his mouth agape slightly. Was he the one being left behind now? No. That couldn't happen. That wasn't happening. He tensed up as he chased after your disappearing figure, a new feeling taking over him, desperation.

His black dress pants were getting wet on the edges and his shoes becoming littered with water droplets. Your confused (E/C) eyes entered his sight as soon as he came to a halt, only three feet away from you. The boy was confused, it was jumbled all onto his face. Why was he following you? He did have one objective. He needed to focus but you were the only thing on his mind lately. That's why he led you here... Right?

"You can't leave. I haven't said-"

"Yet you can when it's me the one talking." You interrupted him, a glare sent his way. He looked down and then back up, his breathing rigid, his brown eyes flickering to a scarlet which made you stop everything altogether.

"I was afraid." The truth practically dripped from his lips from that moment. His eyes showed all the vulnerability. Why was he opening up to you like this now? Why is he trying to mess with you? You gritted your teeth, shaking your head. "Please leave."

"Why?" He asked, stepping closer to you, realizing he's managing to get through to you. He knew it was wrong to slowly force you to open yourself to the idea of letting him talk but he needed to speak his mind. You were giving in to his little trap.

"You're making a mistake Kurapika. You're making me make a mistake." You shook your head and backed away, trying your best to understand what he needed to say so badly but there were no clues. "You're giving me the wrong idea..." You muttered, your heavy breathing could be seen in the cold air, letting off a fog.

He slowly walked to you until he was only a couple centimeters apart, his scarlet eyes staring deep into yours. You were getting lost in them, your breath hitching. His face... So close... It reminded you of when you first saw him, standing on the rooftop, peering down at the auction house. It was only until later on, you had realized that he had become the Mafia leader. You knew then he could help you but you didn't realize that he was going to try to help in multiple ways. Especially like this.

"Who told you it was the wrong idea?" He had no idea what he was saying, he just followed what his heartbeat was telling him and it was pointing to you in over a million different ways and languages in his head. His lips were slowly coming closer to yours, the rain had picked up but both of you were too distracted to notice. His nose touched yours, the excitement erupted in your stomach as the Kurta pushed you against a wall of one of the buildings. Good thing he picked this time... The city had no one wandering around at this time.

"Back away Kurapika..." Your voice gave it all away, how unsure you were, how much you wanted this boy's lips on yours. It expressed everything to Kurapika at that moment and he took it as a sign to move forward, his lips crashing onto yours.

They were soft, the slight taste of liquor was on them but not enough to cringe at. You made a note of that. 'Guess he likes to indulge in his own regrets...' You gripped onto the lapels of his suit, a groan muttering out his mouth and into yours. You could feel the wetness of his hair against you from the rain, the raindrops mixing in with the kiss before you pulled away. There was a relief of some tension as you looked into his eyes. But they were still burning red.

It was obvious. He didn't just want one simple kiss...

He wanted more.

Everything from then on was a blur, from the trip to his place, to how your clothes slowly littered his marble living room floor, to where you were getting observed by him... Underneath him... His intense gaze never left you, every little inch he observed of your skin, littering kisses, a little lovebite. You'll never get the feeling of his teeth lightly grazing and latching onto your skin ever out of your mind. Never. He was intoxicating. Everything about him was intoxicating you.

"Keep looking at me like that... So I can keep it in my head forever..." He whispers, his lips pressing against your neck now as his hands explore the sides of your body. Rough and still soft... It made you shiver as you looked at the white ceiling. His bed was huge and it made you wonder how he even slept in it lonely but that thought quickly got suppressed in your mind as he found your sweet spot. A moan left your lips unexpectedly, his grip tightening on the bedsheets once he heard what he'd been waiting for. He continued to abuse that spot, his teeth pressing in now, the taste of your skin messing him up slowly. You groaned.

He stopped once he knew left quite the mark on you, his kisses becoming rougher and his hands clearly impatient as they started to travel more. Sounds kept slipping out of you, driving him to slowly lose it. He couldn't take it anymore.

He gripped onto your wrists tightly, marks were going to be on them later, a foreign feeling pushing into you and before you know it you were screaming because of him. He changed his rhythm every time he knew you got comfortable, his own expression twisted in pleasure. There was a little blood surrounding his mouth. You knew he didn't mean to... He couldn't help it.... He just used his canines too much... And you didn't care.

"Kurapika..." You muttered against his collarbone, your nails pressed against his back. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he tried his best to not hurt you again. He was afraid he would go too rough.

"I... love you..." Kurapika looked into your eyes, both of you shared your feelings through a kiss, his grip tightening fully as he couldn't hold back anymore, using all his strength until he made you tremble underneath him... Until you made his back bleed with scratches... Until he knew you wouldn't be able to speak that clearly the next day... He wanted those little reminders of this night to stay with you for a little longer and to stay with him too. He never wanted to forget this.

As soon as your second time flooded through your body, that's when he let go himself, letting everything out inside of you. The feeling making you shake before he collapsed next to you.

Both of you panting. You looked at him, his hair was sticking to his forehead and his eyes back to that beautiful hue of brown. Not that his scarlet wasn't just as beautiful.

"You d-didn't let me say it back..." You huffed, pulling yourself closer to him, trying your best to recover, and like he predicted, your voice was raspy.

"Your face was saying it for you." His laugh danced through your ears like a sweet melody as he moved some of your hair behind your ear before kissing you on the forehead and getting up. "Let me get you cleaned up." His arms were felt under you before you were lifted into his hold, his smile staying on his features longer than before.

You couldn't say anymore, your vocal cords were already strained enough and he understood. He didn't even question why you didn't speak while he cleaned your body. He kept a sincere gaze, washing every single spot, not missing anything. That was until he came across your old scars, a finger tracing them before a concerned gaze met with you.

"You hurt yourself?" Kurapika's voice held a hurt but gentle tone, of course, there were multiple scars on him but he could automatically tell when it was self-harm. He couldn't just leave that.

A sad face decorated yours, looking away, and he decided to bring it up another time. "You're still beautiful." He reassured you. "I won't think anything less of you. Just informing you." He looked up at you with a warm smile and you looked at him in awe, tears brimming your eyes at the sweet words. It was like he read your mind. With that, he pulled you into a hug, soon dressing you, making sure you're comfortable and then laying with you. And as you started to fall asleep, he comforted you on the way there.

"Your secrets are safe with me... (F/N)..."

[doorbloggr]

Sunday 25/9/21 - Media Recommendations #19

Contents:

Twilight Princess (Manga)

Dr Stone (manga/anime)

Lately, I have had a lot I want to write about on this blog, but lack that activation energy to actually start writing an article. Ideally I will at least word vomit more onto the blog in the coming week or so, because I have the topics in mind, just unsure how to start any of it.

Media Consumption has also slowed to a crawl, but I'm getting back into it. This week I wanna discuss a manga series I've been reading slowly as it has released, and an anime I have long been reading the manga for.

The Legend of Zelda Twilight Princess (Manga)

Akira Himekawa

Zelda fans have a unique schism between their fans that many other longer running series may not experience. Because most games star a relatively unique cast of characters, a unique spin on the world, gameplay, and even artistic style, what your favourite in the series is will throw you into a hard debate against fans of other games. There's this post i saw somewhere(?) once where it was said your favourite Zelda game is the one that came out when you were 12, presumably because this is the one you experience first, or at least earlier in your Zelda journey, and I can completely relate to that.

The Legend of Zelda Twilight Princess was the first Zelda game I played, and it has been my number 1 or 2 in the series consistently. Compared to the games that came before it, it was darker, had a richer world, and just a grander scope. But today I'm not here to explain the game, I'm here to talk about the manga.

Akira Himekawa is a pseudonym for a pair of female manga artists that have been writing manga together since the early 90s, and I know them well for their Legend of Zelda adaptations. They have covered most of the main games everyone knows, Ocarina of Time, Majoras Mask, A Link to the Past, and even a couple volumes of Four Swords Adventures. Their most recent work has also been the most long and in depth adaptation, my first Zelda game, Twilight Princess.

Like all of their Zelda adaptations, Akira Himekawa's Twilight Princess follows all the same plot beats as the main games. The order places are visited, the main characters Link encounters, the dungeons and their bosses, but the mangaka add... more to the world. Link has a deeper back story explaining what led to the start of the adventure. What in the games are essentially blank slate NPCs become characters in their own rights with personalities and arcs and motivations. The Twilight Realm, which is essentially just a dungeon in the game, is fleshed out as its entire world, with society, and lore.

In the game, Link is cool, and a bit of a himbo, but the manga's take on him is so much more interesting. He's a brooding edge lord, with a damaged past. He's a do-gooder, but he's also flawed and suffers from caring too much. Link is a character full of regrets who constantly bounces between "become a hero to prevent the atrocities of the past coming back" and "give up so that you don't make things worse". I understand that the games leave Link as a blank slate so that players can fill in their own ideals, but seeing Link as a fully fleshed character with his own motivations is cool as hell.

The supporting cast is similarly fleshed out compared to the game's take. Zelda, Illia, and Midna have complex motivations and evolving personalities. Midna was already a great character, but the manga truly does not skip out on making her deep and interesting. The "Resistance", for those who've played the game, are all multilayered characters now, all with arcs that are actively explored as they actually go help Link on his adventures, instead of just telling him info and leaving him to it. The dungeons do not take nearly as much plot time as they do in the games, essentially minimal theme building and then boss, but this works better for the format in my opinion.

If you like high fantasy manga, or are just a Zelda fan, I highly recommend this series. I haven't finished reading it, but Book 9, which I think is the final in the series, has recently been released in English. Obviously playing the game first is a good background, but I think you could 100% enjoy the series without it.

Edit: Finished book 9 and there's definitely at least one more book to go.

Dr Stone (anime/manga)

Inagaki, Boichi; TMS Entertainment

Ok so must I remember wrong because I thought I recommended this one, but apparently I never talked about Dr Stone before, which is a complete travesty. But now I am both up to date with the manga and most of a season deep into the anime, and I have A LOT to talk about.

As those who have also read my dinosaur blogposts will understand, I am a big science nerd. Biology, palaeontology, space, chemistry, it's all so interesting, and sometimes I struggle to understand how a passion for science is not a universal human experience. I share that in common with the main character of a manga I've been reading for maybe a year now, Dr Stone.

In Dr Stone, the world of 21st Century humanity is brought crashing to a halt when a bright wave of mysterious light blankets the entire planet, and everywhere on the entire globe, humans have been turned to stone. 3700 years later, a young man who has kept his mind active within the stone forces himself awake and breaks out. Around him, nature has reclaimed the Earth and millennia of human progress has been all but buried.

Senku is a young man of science, and spent years obsessing over every scientific domain he could comprehend in order to one day travel to space. In this stone world, armed with this wealth of science progress in his mind, Senku begins efforts to restart the scientific age, and free every single person frozen in stone. He starts with a mysterious acid that breaks down the stone. Then he develops tools, machinery, electricity, and eventually, he wants to push humanity back to the space age within his lifetime. Senku may be a know it all, but knowledge only gets you so far. Thanks to the allies he makes, a wealth of expertise will be harnessed to bring his dream to fruition.

Dr Stone is a must read for anyone who enjoys Scifi. Although the rate at which progress is made seems absurd, every single scientific process the kingdom of science works on is real science. Although post apocalyptic themes establish the base for the story and the supernatural force that turned humanity to stone is the main adversary, Dr Stone is a very scientific story based on real Earth and its just... exhilarating!

The scope of the story begins on the small scale in primitive villages, but the story eventually reaches a global scale. There are adversaries at each step, those who wish to rule the Stone World with might, free of the tyranny science had in our age, and there are also those who wish to use science as its own form of might, but Senku and his allies want to use science for the benefit of everyone. So that one day, all of humanity will be restored, and that eventually, he will get to moon.

I will refrain from speaking any further on story specifics because you really should experience the plot for yourself. So I will end with the presentation itself. The art and format of the manga are beautiful. Character designs are rugged, stylised, and exciting, it's very easy to determine what a character is all about just by their unique appearance.

In the last week, I have begun watching the anime, as it has been long enough since I started reading that I can experience parts of the plot anew. The anime is very beautifully made, the world is lush and beautiful, and characters move in such a fun and interesting way. I'm watching the English dub, and characters sound exactly like the voices I had for them in my head.

If you have even an inkling of interest in Dr Stone after reading what I've said today, you should definitely experience the story for yourself, 1 billion percent.

[xpao-bearx]

《This story series is also on my AO3 acc @ Paoloca》

SUMMARY: The bachelors of Selphia conjure up a plan to decide who truly deserves the beautiful princess' heart...if Frey can only choose one of them, that is.

PAIRINGS: Frey x Vishnal, Frey x Kiel, Frey x Doug, Frey x Arthur, Frey x Dylas, Frey x Leon (Polyamorous Ships)

RATING: Mature/18+/Romance & Smut. Please bear these in mind if you are uncomfortable and do NOT report!

NOTE: I have been an avid fan and lover of the Rune Factory series for a looong fooken time now and with RF 5 coming up (who else can't wait?!?!) along with my bursting inspiration, I decided to do something a lil special~ 💖

This story is actually one I wrote--or at least TRIED to write as I didn't finish it--many years ago on my old Wattpad acc (I have a new one now). As such, I'm taking the basic plotline from the original idea I had and simply making it a bit better especially now that I'm older + more mature (pfft yeah sure "mAtUrE" xD).

I sincerely and deeply love ALL of the amazing bachelors on RF 4 and as someone who absolutely ✨A D O R E S✨ reverse harems, I really *personally* don't think that Frey has to choose! And so, here's a naughty + sweet story that'll kinda just delve into my--and I'm sure others'--fantasy ;)

I hope ya lovelies will enjoy this story series and your wonderful support is always very much appreciated! 🥺💕💕 Also, feel free to fangirl/fanboy with me anytime~

P.S. Please forgive mah pathetic ass in advance if I ever portray any of the characters wrong, I promise to do my best!!

"The Princess' Harem"

Part 1: The Game

☆ALL CREDIT GOES TO THE TALENTED ARTIST☆

Summer 1, the dawn of a sweltering season. But most of all...

Beach Day!

Ah, yes, a most wonderful holiday to take a dip in the refreshing water and don the most attractive swimsuits that perfectly hugged one's form! And while it was understandable for the gentlemen to gawk and admire the lovely ladies, it seemed that all the bachelors of Selphia were completely ensnared by one warrior princess in particular...

Frey's tinkly laughter carried in the air as she happily swam around in the lake with the other girls. It was certainly a gorgeous day, yet none could quite rival the turquoise haired beauty's radiant smile.

"Haa... The princess is SO beautiful~" Vishnal sighed dreamily, his violet eyes turning into hearts.

"A goddess among mere mortals!" Kiel piped up cutely.

"You guys are so lame! But, uh... Y-Yeah, I agree, I guess." Doug conceded, face flushing as scarlet as his hair.

"I am a man, after all. Therefore, I must say I agree as well." Arthur cleared his throat, propping his glasses.

"You are all perverts..." Dylas grumbled, though he couldn't help but shyly sneak a peek at Frey.

"My, my~ You're such a bad liar, horsie. Calling us perverts when you, yourself, are one~" Leon chuckled, smirking.

"Who're ya calling horsie?!" Dylas snapped, but couldn't start an argument when all of them heard a splash and saw Frey emerge onto shore.

"Princess!" Vishnal beamed, not wasting a single second as he dashed towards her with a towel much like an excited puppy. "Are you done swimming?"

Frey gratefully took the towel, wiping her drenching body with it. "Yes, I am! And once I change into my clothes, I'm going to be checking the requests."

"You're ever so diligent, Frey. I truly admire that about you." Arthur smiled as he and the rest of the boys approached their beloved girlfriend. Arthur's glasses then flashed as the sun reflected on them, and he quickly grabbed that splendid opportunity for his gaze to drop and hyperfocus on Frey's nearly naked body. He barely managed to suppress it as he almost shamelessly licked his lips, fully taking in and very much appreciating her wet and fit physique.

"Oh, it's nothing! I'm only doing my duties." Frey giggled, embarrassed as her cheeks tinted pink. "But other than that, how come you guys aren't in your swimsuits? It's boiling!" She frowned worriedly.

"Why, is milady that eager to see me in all my glory?" Leon purred, standing in front of her in a flash. His teal eyes sparkled mischievously, as one of his hands reached forward to run his fingers through her long hair. "If you want to see me that badly, I'd rather 'perform' a private show for you tonight~"

Frey became as red as a ruby, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly like a fish out of water. She tried to speak, but no words came out as she could only stare up with eyes as wide as dinner plates at an amused Leon who was enjoying this situation far too much.

"Oi, knock it off!" Dylas growled, wrapping a protective arm around Frey as he glared sharply at Leon. "She's gonna go fishing with me after she's done, anyways!"

"WHAT?! No fair, you can't hog her all to yourself! If you guys are going fishing then I'm going, too!" Doug huffed, snatching Frey away from Dylas.

"No way, you dumbass dwarf! You're not invited!"

"Well, I am now, you fucking nag!"

As the two handsome idiots bickered like an old married couple and fought over Frey, she could only release an exasperated sigh. Honestly, she loved them both, but there was really no use trying to talk any sense into them. The best anyone could do was just wait it out until they inevitably get tired.

But as Doug and Dylas were yanking Frey from one side to another like a ragdoll, they suddenly stopped. It seems that everyone else halted, too, and the air blew bitter cold. Frey, oblivious, could only raise a brow before she finally realized--or more like felt--what all the boys were staring at.

She looked down, Doug and Dylas' hands accidentally cupping each one of Frey's breasts. All of the boys were a thousand shades of crimson, and Vishnal even started to have a nosebleed.

"ACK! S-Sorry..!" Doug and Dylas exclaimed in unison, abruptly pulling their hands away as if they were burned.

"O-Oh, uh, it's f-fine..!" Frey stuttered, not being able to meet anyone's gaze. "I-It was just an accident, after all!"

"Are you sure you're alright, Frey?" Kiel asked, holding her hands into his gently as he studied her face in concern. "These lowlifes didn't hurt you, did they?" It was rare for Kiel to be angry let alone badmouthing anyone, but it was clear from his tone how upset he was. Honestly, Doug and Dylas were a little scared...

"Y-Yes, I'm alright!" Frey nodded vigorously, smiling brightly. "Seriously, guys, don't worry about me! I'll see you all later, okay?" She hurriedly gave each one of them a chaste peck on the cheek before making her way back to the castle.

"So..." Leon began, a fake smile plastered on his lips as his eyes held no emotion. "I wonder who the true perverts are now?"

"H-Hey, it was an accident! Besides, it's all this moron's fault!" Dylas retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at Doug.

"MY fault?! If you just invited me in the first place, none of this would've happened!" Doug shouted furiously.

"You guys...touched...the princess' b-b-breasts..." Vishnal muttered, totally lost in his own world as he was slowly deteriorating from existence.

"Oh, my..." Arthur let out a heavy exhale. "I'm sure you two already know this, but as soon as Frey is done with her tasks then you both must apologize to her again. Accident or not, it is completely unacceptable for a man to touch a woman without her consent."

"Hey, y'know, I've been wondering..." Kiel cut in. "Do you guys ever think if Frey is just being strung along by us?"

"What do you mean?" Doug frowned.

"Like, didn't we confess to Frey at different times? And at every confession, she rejected all of us. And later on, it was only then we found out that we all shared the same feelings for her."

"So, what's your point?" Dylas pressed.

Kiel sighed, staring pointedly at the taller man. "Don't you find it a bit weird that now, we're all in a relationship with her? I know that being in a polyamorous relationship with Frey was something we all consented on from the very beginning, but why the sudden change of heart?"

"Isn't it obvious? Being in a polyamorous relationship means that Frey likes all of us at the same time, which is fine. Maybe she was just too shy at first to admit it." Leon shrugged.

"That may be true, or...what if she's only with us out of pity?" A wave of realization washed through everyone, and a certain pang of sadness settled in their hearts. "Frey is such a nice person, it's possible she only agreed to be with us since she felt bad for rejecting us. And now, she doesn't know how to break up with us for fear of hurting us even more."

"There's also one other possibility..." Arthur spoke up. "What if she actually likes one of us, but can't exclusively date that person?"

Dead silence. Only the faint sounds of the lake thrashing and birds chirping, before Vishnal was the one who first woke up back to reality.

"So... What are we supposed to do?" He questioned softly. "I feel so terrible... If what you're saying is true, then I don't want to continue on like this. I love Frey, but I can't ever bear the thought of hurting her!"

"How about a game?" Leon suggested.

"Now's really not the time, foxy." Doug rolled his eyes.

"No, no. You've misunderstood." Leon shook his head. "I'm talking about a game to see who Frey truly likes or doesn't like. And that way, we won't have to be hurting her and suffering like this anymore."

"Hmm... An interesting proposition." Arthur hummed thoughtfully. "I don't quite like referring to this as a 'game', but colour me intrigued. What's your idea, then?"

"Alright. So, we each get one whole day to spend with Frey. Completely alone, and no one is allowed to bother anyone else. As long as Frey is okay with it, then we can do whatever we want with her. Going on dates, exploring...you get the idea. Finally, by the end of the week, we'll all ask her how she feels and who she had the most fun with. Her answer will then determine what will happen afterwards."

"Hmph. Okay, that sounds good." Dylas nodded, agreeing for once. "How can we settle who goes first and last, though?"

"I think it would only be fair if we go in the order that Frey met us. So it's Vishnal, me, Doug, Arthur, Dylas, and then Leon." Kiel offered.

"All in favour?" Arthur asked, and everyone collectively voiced out their approval. "Good. It's settled, then. May the best man win!"

"Speaking of, I forgot that the castle is undergoing construction! So please excuse me, I'll have to get going now!" Vishnal grinned, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

"Wait... I just visited Ventuswill earlier with Granny Blossom." Doug furrowed his brows before gasping. "That bastard..! He went to go have a headstart with Frey!" He immediately chased after the conniving butler, but not before his shoulder got bumped hard by Dylas.

"If anyone's gonna get a headstart, it's me!"

"Oh, shut the hell up, HORSIE!"

Arthur sighed deeply, rubbing his temples stressfully as Kiel only chuckled sheepishly. Leon simply watched the scene, his fan hiding his smirk.

'There is a saying: Save the best for last~' Leon thought satisfyingly to himself.

[bootyyy-shaker9000]

Give Me A Chance

D.Danny x G-N! Reader [Oneshot]

Relationship: Pining - Romantic

Warnings: Slight Cursing, A Suggestive Joke, Fluff.

"Here ya' go, Big Mama!" Heaving five large worn-sacks of what you expected to contain Yokai goods, the three partners-in-crime grinned triumphantly. "Managed to loot them flashy broads from a few blocks down, slipped in and out no problem."

Big Mama's features gleamed in awe as she watched the rugged men stroll through her lobby, nearing towards her with her prize. "Oh, splendid! Well, I'm sure you are well aware of sorting your share."

From your positioning nearby Big Mama's grand table, you inspected them as they lugged three of the five bags of plunder onto a convenient marble surface.

Mickey bobbed his head in affirmation. "Sixty per cent on your end, Boss. Just like we promised ya'!"

"Formidable work, boys. I once again thank you for your service." The woman's gaze wandered, examining the stash as she wavered her hand over it all. "Now, I'll just have my assistant here take care of this while you fellas make yourself acquainted."

The mention of your given role had peaked your attention, giving the Mud Dogs a once over before making your way to the table. Big Mama placed a delicate hand on your shoulder, her mouth nearing towards your ear whispering: "Keep a close eye on them for me. Don't want their grubby fingers finding themselves somewhere they shouldn't."

Your eyes trailed up to Loathsome stretching out on a nearby settee with Malicious gawking at the fine art that scattered across the lobby's walls. While Dastardly - the only Mud Dog that had "conversed" with you on multiple occasions - perched his elbows on the tabletop's edge with body facing towards you, awaiting your arrival.

Your over-watch would basically be unnecessary when you already have the rat's eyes watching your every move. Not that you minded his attention (to an extent), you just had no idea what enjoyment he was getting out of it.

"Will do, Chief."

With that, Big Mama made her way out of the area with a rhythmic sway of her hips. While in turn, you stalked over to the pile of moolah you were set to examine, having to position yourself beside the dapper rat; who seemed all too eager to stay close.

"So uh," Dastardly adjusted his footing, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "How's work been holding up for ya' recently?"

You halted your inspection to take a subtle glance around, Danny taking note of it on the spot. "The coast is clear, doll, don't worry 'bout it."

He nodded reassuringly with his brow quirked before you dragged out a long inflated sigh. You flipped your back to the table, the small of your back resting on the table's edge as you mirrored the rat's laid-back stance.

"It freaking blows. Literally the most boring job known to pretty much anyone." You combed your fingers through the roots of your hair, giving your scalp a small rub in the process. "It's shocking how exhausting it is to do absolutely nothing, seriously. I'd rather be on my feet actually doing something, you know, like you guys. Being an errand boy or whatever."

"Errand boys?" An offended scoff was sent to you in return, the sound already making the corners of your lips turn up. "I'll have you know it takes a lotta skill and precision ta' do what we do half the time."

"Yeah and the other half you just spend it aimlessly goofing around."

"Meh, whatcha gonna do?"

You chuckled before lazily hoisting yourself up onto the counter, careful not to get an ass full of coins by avoiding the bags of loot. "Hey, I wasn't exactly saying it was a bad thing. It's gotta be fun at least."

With your body slumped, you held your position with your palms pressed to the marble surface. Peeking out from your downcast gaze, you caught a glimpse of Dastardly inching himself closer to your side. The left side of his hip rested on the slab as he dug his hands deep into his pockets, eyeing your form intently.

"Y'know... We could have some fun, just you and me."

Your head struck up in an instant. "Woah there, Casanova. Try to keep it in your pants, you're supposed to be a professional."

"Whaddya m-" His brows drew together in confusing before his cheeks tinted as the realisation dawned on him. "Oh! Oh, shi- no! Jeez, toots, I just meant 'fun' as in taking you outta' dinner or catch a show or somethin'."

A brazen grin made its way to his lips, his nostrils slightly flaring. "Unless that other offer is on the table then-"

"-It isn't."

"Well," Faltering only for a moment, his thin lips stretched back into a small smile but it didn't quite reach his dark eyes, "how about that date then?"

You just... Didn't understand.

"What makes you so interested in going out with me?" Your brow raised in question, tapping your index finger anxiously on the cold marble. "We've barely even talked."

Bashful, Dastardly brought a clammy hand up to rub the back of his neck, giving his tendons a slight message. "Heh, that’s kinda the reason why, toots. I can't figure you out."

The man let out a sigh before slumping back onto the edge of the table, crossing one ankle over the other as he shifted his weight.

"Usually, I can look at someone and read em on the spot, but you don't put too much of yourself out there. Every time I'm here you give me feelings I ain't totally sure on how to handle, but I sorta like it. I always wanna hang out with you and do stupid shit without the boys taggin' along, it doesn't even matter what we do!"

You winced as he got excitable the more he went on. "Danny..."

"Just hear me out, please." He set his hands out in front of him to figuratively set you on pause. "I wanna get to know ya, and a part of me thinks you wanna get to know me too. So, if you're willin', lemme take you out so we can get to know each other. Outside of all this."

Of course you wanted to get to know him. He was this mysterious guy in a striped suit that would waltz in and out of your workplace every week and actually take the time to notice you around. You couldn't help the curiosity that welled deep in your belly every time you caught him eyeing you from across the room.

You just couldn't wrap your head around the fact that he actually wanted to know who you were. Not just one of Big Mama's collaborators. Not just the associate that idled around wherever your boss lurked. Just you. You couldn't help but be fond of the man for wanting to do so.

Though you were still cautious of his intentions...

Huffing lightly, you replied. "So there are these guys that have been pestering Big Mama, right? They've been digging at her to pay up whatever expenditure she owed them, and obviously, she did. Holding up her end of the bargain as always."

"And this has somethin' to do with the date thing because...?"

"Lemme finish. But as you also know, that woman isn't one for letting someone give her such a hard time without 'semi-retaliating'..."

"I'm reckoning that's where the boys and I come in." The rat roughly adjusted the collar of his shirt, loosening the top button. "So doing this job is the only way I'm going to have a chance with you, huh?"

You couldn't help the nip of guilt that caught you. "See it as more of a test, Romeo."

Hopping off of the counter with ease, you manoeuvred yourself in front of the man, setting your hands on his lapels. You fixed his blazer with a slight pull while straightening it out in the process.

"Do this particularly important job, then I'll consider..." Your eyes reached up to meet Danny's, observing his pink-tinted features for a brief moment. "The date thing. Deal?"

Despite feeling grateful for the offer, he sounded slightly defeated. "Consider?"

Tugging gently on his lapels, you brought your mouth up to his ear, keeping your voice hushed. "It's a definite yes if you get your ass back here quick enough."

His ear flicked back as his dumbstruck eyes stared at you in what seemed to be a mixture of disbelief and excitement. Coughing out to compose himself, he turned away from your form to face the two Yokai that loitered across the room.

"Aye, boys! D'ya hear that? We got a job to do, move yer hides!" Danny ushered them to the exit with a vigorous waft of his arms, ignoring any annoyed protests.

Before leaving the building himself, the suited man pivoted on one heel to bid you a due, with a smug tip of his hat. "See you soon, sunshine."

In return, you gave a simple short wave of your hand goodbye. Though you couldn't help but reflect the flashy grin that he held onto your own features.

The realisation only just settling in, you sprung up to halt him from leaving the lobby. "Wait, Danny! I haven't even told you the job yet!"

Almost cartoonish, the Yokai poked his head back through the door way. "But I just- i just made a big deal with the leaving thing! And no- oh y'know what, I'll be back tomorrow!"

"Okay!" A hearty laugh escaped your lips as you watched him leave for the second time, leaving you desolate.

Maybe he's worth that chance.

[ohtobealady]

#20 and Cobert. I don't know if you're still doing this but thought I just send a prompt because I really love your fanfics^^

Thank you so much! I’ve been rewatching a bit of Downton lately, and I have this new little tiny thing of a headcanon. I won’t go much into it here because it’s an interesting little bud that I may want to water and let grow. Try this. I hope there’s something there that you like. It is very much a bit of a Cora + Violet scene. (Wish we had more!) *throws Drabble at you and runs*

——///——

# 20 Things You Said that I Wasn’t Meant to Hear

The thunder outside of the dining room made the usually large, gaping space between the four of them smaller - suffocatingly smaller.

They’d already mustered through six different topics of light conversation: Patrick’s plans for the upcoming hunting party, Mama’s visit with the vicar earlier that day, if anyone had heard anything of “poor old Mr. Granger” (whom Cora had never heard of at all), the delicious chicken they ate, Rosamund’s most recent letter, and the weather.

Cora felt as if it had all come full circle there — it began with small rumbles of the storm and the pittering of rain against the windows, and now it had ended with larger rumbles and gusts of wind.

For his part, Robert said very little. He had inquired about the hunting party and made an offhand remark about Rosamund being able to afford her own groceries, but beside that, had kept mum. Cora always kept mum on nights such as these. She felt she’d at last learnt her lesson, that her observations during light conversation between courses was not appreciated. After all, it was all for appearances’ sake.

Cora lifted her eyes from her dessert and looked at the people around her — her husband, her mother-in-law, her father-in-law — and she pushed out a breath of frustration through her nose.

She’d been married for six months. She had had countless dinners such as these: these odd, formal affairs of just the four of them, servants in every corner, never leaving the room. Of course they had had formally laid dinners in New York and Newport, but her Mother was never one for duplicity. She’d send the servants out, to be rung in by a bell when they were finished with their meal, and then she and her brother and mother and father would eat and eat well. They’d sometimes not speak at all. But here, appearances mattered. It was behind the closed door of the library where the facade fell away, and Cora felt a headache coming on.

“Now then, I think it may be time to let them get in here.” Violet stood, and as rules demanded, everyone stood and put their napkins down. Cora instinctively walked around Robert, following her mother-in-law into the library, but then turned, as Robert and his father did not follow her in as they usually did.

Cora looked at Violet. Her mother-in-law yawned as she sat on the red sofa and gazed into the fire, clearly not as interested in this breach of routine as Cora was. She could see, too, from her vantage that Robert and his father were just outside the door, as it was cracked open. But Cora was at a poor angle. She moved to make as if she was selecting a book, though the titles on the spines were next to impossible to read in the dim, flickering light. She could see now, however, through her slow but deliberate steps along the bookcase, that Robert stood just there, and Patrick had his arm about him.

There was another low rumble of thunder and Cora turned to look over her shoulder, at Mama. She still stared into the flames.

“...spoken with Murray today. He asked how I felt things were progressing.”

Patrick’s voice was too deep to whisper properly. The words carried through the remains of the growl of thunder and into their space. Robert’s words were more difficult to decipher. But her name — she very clearly heard her name from on tongue.

She stopped her browsing, and breathing, and stood, trying to hear better.

Robert again. “— I don’t need any lectures on the matter —“

The rain was much too loud.

“ — sure there is nothing amiss. If disharmony exists now, it does not —“

“Cora?” Violet called her. “Can’t you find anything?”

Cora turned back around to her mother-in-law and forced a smile. “No.” She opened her mouth, to add some sort of commentary, but failed. She closed it shut.

“Mmm,” her mother-in-law hummed quietly. “Perhaps it isn’t a night for reading, then.”

Cora turned her head back toward the door. Patrick was speaking again. She could hear the low timbre of his words. And then the lower roll of more thunder. Cora felt her mother-in-law’s attention trained upon her, and felt the awkwardness of the moment increase with every second that ticked forward. So she smiled a small, “You may be right,”walked to the red sofa, and sat.

Of course that wasn’t true. Every night seemed to be a night for reading as of late. Robert had nearly all but stopped coming into her bedroom since they had to share a room at Grantham House in late June. She wasn’t sure what she’d done. One night they had spent tangled in one another, the headiness of the London season and several glasses of champagne working to create a feigned sort of easiness between them. They’d kissed, and laughed, and Cora had quietly whispered how much she longed for him. And then the next night, she found herself alone, Robert sleeping in a separate bed that hadn’t existed before.

Another boom of thunder, and this time, the window panes shook slightly.

In the stillness that followed, Cora noticed a more deafening silence. She turned her head back toward the door, but apparently rather conspicuously, for Violet spoke.

“They’ve left.”

Cora felt her face grow hot, and she thought seriously of coming up with some story that would excuse her strange behavior. But she didn’t. For one, she was a terrible liar. And secondly, she understood that her mother-in-law knew better.

“There is something I need to say, and then we can have it done with.”

Cora was alarmed at this. She looked up at Violet, who was sitting straight, tall, her strawberry blonde hair a deeper red in the firelight. She looked imperial. “I’m only going to ask you one thing, and then we’ll leave things be.” Violet held up her hand, almost as if she was halting Cora’s next thoughts before they had time to manifest. “This is in no way meant to embarrass or insult you. If anything, it’s only meant to clear the air. After all, I believe I may already know the answer; but of course, validation is appreciated in situations such as these.”

Cora took a breath in. Her heart raced. “Yes?”

“Are you refusing to have Robert in your bed?”

“What?” The breath that Cora took in pushed out in a fierce response. She opened her mouth to speak again, but could not. Everything she wanted to say to defend herself turned her chest into hot patches of red, her neck feeling suddenly as if it had been burned, both from indignation and mortification. She must’ve made an unintelligible noise, for Violet had to speak over her.

“My dear ... my dear,” she quieted her. “There is no need to explain a thing.”

There was another rumble of thunder and glass trembling. Cora wanted to cry. She didn’t know how to leave, but she wanted to. She stood, she looked around her, and made to exit. She managed a strangled, “I’m going up” and forced herself to keep some semblance of composure as she moved as quickly as she could from the sofa.

But then, a gnawing, churning thought and Cora paused, abruptly, and turned, very slightly, to Violet. She kept her eyes on the mantle, for she daren’t look at her. She’d cry. She knew she’d cry.

“Did Robert say ... that is ... Was it Robert who ...”

Her voice trailed off. She hated the way she’d asked it. She hated the way her eyes now stung with tears. She hated that this was a conversation she was having with his mother of all people.

Mercifully, Violet didn’t let the silence linger long. “I can’t be sure who has spread such an unseemly and nasty rumor, and were you an ordinary girl who did not carry such a weight as the succession — not to mention the entail with it —, then it would be of little consequence.” Violet paused, and Cora suddenly felt an odd ache in her chest. She looked down at her mother-in-law’s feet. Another thunder rolled in the distance. “But no. It was not Robert.”

The rain outside made the room smaller, but the suffocation Cora had felt in the dining room did not exist here. Instead, the smallness now felt like shared understanding. Shared experience. And for the first time since she arrived, Cora felt as if her mother-in-law was speaking to her, and not simply at her.

Cora met Violet’s gaze. She nodded. “Thank you.”

Violet didn’t smile, in fact, she looked away from Cora, but she nodded in return as she stood and straightened her glove. Cora walked to the door, and just as her hand was at the knob, Violet’s voice gave her pause.

“If I could offer some advice....” Cora looked back at her. “It may do you both some good to remember that we aren’t the only eyes and ears beneath this roof.”

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x OC} Chapter 16

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Swearing

.....

Chapter 16

My whole body was electrified from his touch, heating me up from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Grasping each other like our lives depended on it.

It had been a long time since I felt like this, only, this flame burnt brighter and the butterflies beat harder.

One hand in my hair and the other at my waist, pulling my body flush with his own. Mine still settled on his cheek and the other gripping his shoulder, keeping him down here, grounded with me. 

His tongue brushed over my lip, prompting me to invite him further. Tasting a hint of moonshine as his tongue danced with mine.

I hummed an involuntary moan, not realising until I heard it. His grip softened then and before I knew it he was pulling away, his hands retreating and taking a few steps back.

“I - I’m sorry, I - shouldn’t - I” He stammered, looking everywhere but at me. 

I took a step closer, slowly, like I was calming a spooked horse that wanted desperately to flee.

"Arthur, don't - " 

He mimics my movement, stepping back "No. It's not right. It's not what you want." Then he turns to walk away, I’m still rooted to the spot.

"Don't just assume to know what I want," I call out to his back prompting him to stop and finally look back at me.

"I aint a good man."

“Then you don’t know enough about me,”

My shoulders slumped in what would appear as defeat, but I was shocked that everything he has done to help me in these few months, he doesn’t see as good, noble actions. A kindness not many would be met with.

"I know bad men, you aren’t one of them" 

I recoiled at that. I am certain the man I have slowly gotten to know, to call a friend, someone that I care about isn’t the one he is saying he is. Either that or he is a great liar and better than he makes out. But why?

“It’s getting dark.” With that, he turns on his feet and begins walking towards camp again. I followed a few paced back, my eyes on the ground the whole way trying to understand what just happened.

Once at camp we parted without a word or even a glance, my hands clammy and my mind reeling from confusion and to be honest - hurt.

…..

Instead of dwelling or loathing in self-pity, I made my way to Dutch, who was sat reading by his tent, with a proposal he may be interested in.

The Braithwaites owned prized horses and Hosea mentioned John and a few others planning to relieve them of a few of those said horses.

I explained to Dutch how I knew about other Braithwaite horses, some even more special, being held in stables near a local creek. Secretly hidden away and only to be viewed by notable buyers. Mentioning I had been there once before. He thanked me and planned to have a few men go over and scope out the area.

Many had congregated around the fire as the evening set in but I had no intentions of joining them tonight. Fixing my gaze over at Arthurs tent, the canvas drawn closed and the dull gleam from the lantern seeping out from under it. Should I go and speak with him? Try and clear everything up?

No - No point. My emotions were still reeling as made evident by my still pounding heart and clammy palms. Instead, I made my way to my tent to turn in for the night.

It was then, being in the confines of my own private space that the events from tonight finally dawned on me. I shot and probably killed multiple people tonight. It weighed heavy on me in a way dissimilar to killing that O’Driscoll a week ago. It was all in self-defence but the conversation and that damned kiss in the woods, not moments after killing, and aiming to kill. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

Franks a killer, Arthurs a killer. I’m a killer.

To have no second thought on what I was willing to do with a gun in my hand and then fling myself into the arms of a friend like I was living in some lunatic action-romance novel. What a complete fucking mess of a woman. Of a person.

This couldn’t be who I really was.

I slumped onto my bedroll, my reflection finally taking hold as the tears began to pour and my chest tightened. This is the life I have chosen to live.

I tried to keep the sounds of my sobs to a minimum and waited for the restless night to eventually pass into daybreak.

The next morning I woke before anyone else, no point in trying to get any more sleep. My eyes scanned the camp and made my way to make a fresh batch of coffee. The weight still heavy and the back of my eyes burning.

But I didn't waste any time to let my mind wander again, deciding to get one with whatever chores I could to keep myself busy.

A couple of hours later John approached me as I was trying to stomach the tasteless oatmeal that was breakfast. He and Javier checked out the stables I mentioned during the night, said it was legitimate, a few guards and workers but nothing they couldn’t handle. They planned on robbing that place after the manor, which was happening today. I hope they get something worthwhile out of those horses. The Breaithwates are known to be nasty folk and deserve to be fucked over.

I wasn’t expecting this given that I had no part in helping to steal them. He noticed my hesitation, pushing the notes into my soaked hand. “You told us, you get some.” 

I was sat with Karen and Abigail as they worked on mending the never-ending pile of damaged clothing. I was elbow deep in a wash bucket, suds overflowing as I relentlessly tried to beat the dirt out of the fabric. It could get so hot here it wouldn’t be long until the clothing I was currently wearing would need to join the others in the bucket.

John, Javier and Arthur had just returned from stealing the horses, the three of them stood at Dutchs tent before John made his way over to us.

Expecting him to start a conversation (or argument) with Abigail I was surprised when he stopped in front of me. A clip of notes in his hand.

“Here's your cut. Those were some fine horses.” He said as he handed the money to me.

It wasn’t until I heard the unfamiliar laugh that my attention was drawn back to him. Stood with Lenny beside the fire, fully engrossed in whatever the other was saying. I never heard him laugh like that, completely carefree at that moment. A deep feeling making me wish I could be sharing that happiness with him, and even being the cause. My shoulders slumped as a shuddering sigh escaped me. I didn’t realise I had stopped what I was doing, arms motionless within the water and eyes fixed on him until Karen’s hand was waving in front of my face, pulling my attention to her and Abigail. Both of them watching me intently. 

Shoving the fold into the breast of my blouse like the lady I am I looked up to John with a grateful smile “Thank you, John.”

He shrugged with a smile and wandered off.

Soon after Arthur passed by, murmuring a “Good afternoon, Ladies” without even looking my way. The other two returning the pleasantry but I kept quiet, my focus now back on the task in front of me. Pushing back the slight pang of hurt with a deep breath.

“You alright there, Bella? Got a bit distracted?” Karen inquired, the pair with a knowing look on their faces.

“No, I’m fine. Just...I’m sick of sweating, you know?” I turned back to the shirt in my hands, ringing it out and hoping they would continue what they were doing. Real smooth Bella.

“Yeah, and we were born yesterday. Come on, you know you can gossip with us. Us girls keep our lips sealed.”

I looked at her as she knelt closer to me, her features blurry. 

I shook my head, the loud thoughts now running through my mind. The shirt in my hands being twisted to an inch of its life.

Abigail’s hand rested on mine, halting the torture I was inflicting on the fabric.

“Sweetheart, what’s happened?” her voice was soft and quiet, easing me in a way only a mother knows how. 

“I done something stupid,” I whispered, just enough for them both to hear, Karen glancing in the direction of the fire. Abigail curled her other arm around to gently stroke my arm. 

“Talk to him. You’d be dumb not to see that you two have gotten close since you being here.”

“The men here are surely the most dim-witted I’ve ever met, and I’ve robbed fools from right under their nose many times,” Karen exclaimed with a smile on her face making me huff out a quiet laugh.

So it was that obvious huh? They didn't even need to ask who I was talking about.

@kashasenpai​

If you want to be included in the taglist just shoot me a message :)

[damejanai]

Dameraji

2020.09.16

S:Probably, when this episode goes on air, it won't be the case anymore but

K: Uh huh

S: But recently, I've had quite many spiritual experiences recently

K: Oh i was scared right there

S: ?

K: I thought you were quitting or something

S: No no no no, why would i do something like that?

K: That scared me, thought you were going to say, 'when this goes on air, i won't be here anymore'

S: Hhahahaha that blew up

K: I was so shocked

S: That's funny, but you know, I often say I see feathers, right? I still see them now and then, but recently, I'm not kidding, crickets keep coming to me. When i'm watching TV at night... well I'm not watching TV but

K: What are you talking about?

S: You know like, my TV is like...that...

K: You are just watching the screen

S: Ah yesyes, that's scary! It's like I'm a psychopath or something!

K: So Soma san you were just watching screen when..

S: When I watch movies at night, there would be the tapping sound on my window, there would be nothing, and after a while i would hear it again.

K: Uh huh

S: And when i open the window, the crickets would be like, 'Let me in!'

K: That's so dramatic

S: I think there is a huge tree near my window, and so there would be tons of them there growing.

K: Ahhh, they would fall nicely at a 45 degree angle

S: And it's easy for them to come in but not go out. I realised that recently, they are not really coming anymore. I was wondering why, and it has been hot recently, so I've not been going into the veranda much. When I went out, I realised that the tree, wasnt there

K: Ehhhhh!??

S: It was totally trimmed, I guess there were tons of complaints coming from other residents about crickets coming into their houses too

K: Would they trim it because of complaints?!

S: It has a very clean haircut now.

K: I don't know if I should probe into it this much but is that tree within the estate?

S: Yes yes , it is, so it comes under their management. And actually I dont miss them at all and, i feel lucky in fact

K: And also it's nothing spiritual at all, just that the bugs are gone

S: Ahahahahaa

----

~About year end times and visiting their parents'~

S: It's hard for me to move around, like my hometown is in Yamanashi

K: Actually my parents home was in tokyo but they have moved to kanagawa actually, so they're like telling me, not to come back

S: Ahahahaa

K: And they got a cat, when I'm allergic to cats. And also since they're in Kanagawa, they might have some resistance to come to Tokyo. So, I can't go back!

S: Are you in contact with them?

K: Ahhh well yes

S: So that was when they told you that, they were getting a cat and stuff, and therefore

K: Telling me not to come back

S: I don't think that's what they think wwww

It's a tough time huh

K: Yes it's a tough family situation

S: Ahahahaaa what's that

K: Why are they going further away though...

S: I actually talked on the phone for 2 hours with my parents, after a long time, they seemed really happy i think. After that I think i heard from my sister that my parents told her about how i called them

K: Ahh

S: I'm usually the kind that doesnt contact people. So i guess this situation sort of makes us try to keep in contact. So not all's bad

K: I see, when i go back home, I'm like doing a radio show alone for 2 hours

S: Ahahahaaha

K: When i go home, I talk non stop, for like 1 hour and we laugh and laugh and then I'll be, 'Okay, I'm off'

S: Ahahahaa you're providing them one slot of entertainment

K: I'd be like, 'wasn't it fun?' , 'bye bye'

S: Does your style of talking take after any of your family members?

K: Nope

S: Ah

K: Totally no one. I'm the only one who talks this much

S: Ah, so they're rather quiet, all of them

K: My dad would talk when he's excited but is usually the listener. I don't really understand what my mum says at all

S: wwwww what does that mean?

K: Maybe we're similar?

S: Ahahahhaa

K: My younger sister doesn't ever come out of her room

S: Stop that

K: My elder brother keeps bullying others

S: wwwwww ok but

K: Maybe it's a hybrid, I'm all of those things at times

S: Well but you're nice on the inside

K: Yes I am! So is my family! Hahahaha

S: Haahahha

~~

Q. There are not many events nowadays but it seems like there are many recordings and filmings these days?

K: No?

S: wwwww well in general for voice actors, probably all the recordings that were halted have resumed  maybe

K: By recording, what kind of recording do you mean?

S: wwwww what do you mean by what kind?

K: Well there's after recording

S: Ah ah ah, Ok then count it in

K: Ah, okat then Yes, it has increased

S: Ahahahaa

K: Yes, it's great. I don't really have recording for like songs

S: I think ive gotten more reading jobs nowadays, and I've always said i liked reading, but i had one where i had to read out everything myself, it was, really difficult

K: I guess you have to create and ups and downs right, that's tough right

S: And i think, it's not too good if you create too many ups and downs

K: Ahhh, it's difficult to decide when to hold back

S: Yesyesyes. And usually i would read books for leisure and books for work differently.

K: I see

S: And recently I end up thinking a lot when reading, like how should I make it more interesting

K: Ahhh that doesn't sound fun

S: Totally

K: When I have fun doing YouTube, versus when I use some editing methods because I feel it's good for my videos

S: And it goes on for hours, well it happens for radio as well, like 3-4 hours, to be immersed in one story for rhat long, we don't have it that much

K: Uh huh

S: Like... i want to improve my concentrating ability

K: Ahhh that...

S: Well....Kaito kun are there any types of jobs that you have more now

K: Not really... anything... it has been the same

S: So it has really gotten back to normal

K: Yes. I think I've had more free talk sort of gigs now

S: wwwwww

K: So, what do they see me as?

S: Well but you know you are able to do freetalk for 2 hours at your parent's house

K: No no no but well the freetalk at do at my parent's house goes like, 'this and this happened at work, haha, my partner for radio is this sort of person, he's really irritating

S: Wait wait, stop stop, can i rewind?

K: Ok ok ok, so like what i say at my parent's house goes like, 'my partner for radio is really irritating' something like that

S: wwwwwww

K: Hahahaha, just a little

S: You simplified it huh, from just now

K: I don't even remember what i said

S: But Kaito kun is someone who can just talk about something interesting when the time needs to be dragged a little

K: Really?

S: Isn't that so?

K: Freetalk is like... if there's nothing interesting that happened in your daily life, there's nothing to talk about so

S: Yes, that's true

K: So, i only say what comes to mind at that point

S: Yeah yeah

K: So, sometimes i read comments like, 'Kaito kun said this and this some time ago but now he's saying this and this'

S: Uh huh

K: But what i say is different at different times. So, recently I felt the need to accumulate things to talk about

S: Yes, that's also what you thought of due to this increase in free talk related gigs

K: Yes yes

S: And so you're actually

K: I wanted to note down stuff so, use my secret twitter account that I use for ego searching

S: Wait wait, why, why? Just use a notebook or something

K: Well but, I feel like tweeting them

S: Ahahahhaaa I don't get it! Your ego searching account

K: It has 0 followers, is unlocked, and has no interaction with anyone

S: I see I see

K: And I would tweet photos of my animal crossing game for my own keepsake

S: Ahahahaha huh? That's kinda scary

K: So I'm using it in place of a notebook now. My recent note was 'Human nails degenerate too fast, don't they?' They break all the time and it's painful and bloody', and I don't even remember what that was about

S: Oh my god

K: Scary right?

S: Totally scary, Posting animal crossing photos and leading to this is also scary. What's that about human nails?!

K: The fact that it's scary... already becomes a topic

S: I see I see, you noting down things and don't remember anything about it

K: And the fact that the first tweet was something really scary

S: Ahahahhaahaa

K: Hahahaa

S: But it's an account you would like to keep lowkey

K: If it gets circulated due to a bug or something that would be real bad

S: Please be careful!

~ Dame raji photo studio ~

Topic: Please express your favourite 4 word idiom with your body as much as you can 

[DOWNLOAD]

Please download from this link:

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1Yp5Xdwi4_z03jPajH9BEbL7R02brXk8P?usp=sharing

[gwynplaine89]

Smile and put on your best face

Multi-chapter fanfic. Arthur X Sophie.

I own NOTHING. Todd (aka God) does.

Will be updating regularly.

Chapter 1: A chronic underachiever

The bus is full. Seems like I will have to stand this time. No, wait. There's a free spot in the back. I drop myself on the last seat. I'm still in pain due to the beating I took this morning. Some kids assaulted me outside the music shop. They stole the sign from my hands and ran away. I followed them but they ambushed me in an alley, beat me down and hit me. There were five of them. I know the broken sign will be deducted from my paycheck. And there's not much one can deduct from that salary anyway...

The way home is long. All days resemble each other. Always the same route, the same streets, the same lights, the same people. But sometimes, and only sometimes, there's something different, something that catches my attention. A little boy. In the front seat. He turns around and watches me with curiosity. He seems to be very interested in me. He's the only one in this bus for whom I'm not invisible.

I had washed my face earlier and removed all the clown make up, but it doesn't matter. Kids, unlike adults, posess fantasy. Just by making some funny faces the boy is already laughing. Suddenly, his mother turns around and looks at me in anger.

- Stop bothering my child!!

- I wasn't bothering him...I'm sorry...

I was just trying to make him laugh. People always seem to be upset...

And suddenly I feel laughter crawling up my throat. Oh no...please no, not now.

- HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA

The woman turns around again.

- WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT??!!!

- HAHHAHHAHAH no....no HAHAHHAH. I'm not...I'm not laughing. HAHAHAHHA. I'm s-sorry. HAHAHAHHA.

I need air. My throat hurts. I can't speak. My hand reaches to my pocket, I grab one of my "presentation cards" and hand it to her. Normal people always carry those with them. They say things like "LAWYER", "DOCTOR" or "CEO". Mine is a bit different.

"Excuse me if I laugh. I'm sick. My laughter is involuntary.

Please kindly return this card"

The woman reads it, looks at me with mistrust and hands me back the card. My laughter slowly calms down, but I've already made her uncomfortable. Her and everyone else here. I feel all those eyes on me. There's still two stops before home but as soon as the bus halts, I get off. I sit down on a bench at the stop and wait for the next bus.

A man approaches and sits down beside me. He carries a newspaper and begins to read. Thomas Wayne, who is running for mayor of Gotham, is on the cover. I laugh a bit upon seeing him because I remember that my mom has a weird obsession with mailing him letters. And then my laughter gets out of control.

- HAHAHHAHAHHAAAA

I cover my mouth with one hand to smother the laughter. But I can't.

- What's wrong with you?- he says, visibly annoyed.

I just shake my head no. I try to say something but again I fail. My laughter only gets worse and louder by the minute.

- HAHHAHAHAHAHA

- WHAT'S SO FUNNY, ASSHOLE??- the man yells, throwing aside the paper.

Again I reach for my card and hand it to him.

The man reads it. Now he is the one who laughs.

- You're sick?? Hahhahaha.

- Yes, Sir...

- Really?? You poor thing...HAHAHHAHA YOU THINK I'M STUPID OR WHAT??- he yells.

- N-no!! I...

The man tears the card into pieces.

- No!! Please...I need it!!

It was the last one I had left over.

- Fucking freak!!- he says and throws the pieces of paper in my face.

Great, in just one day I managed to get myself beaten up, have  some deducted from my paycheck, and my last card torn. My life is such a success.

People are not only impatient...sometimes they are cruel just for the sake of it.

I let the next bus pass me by. Despite the fact that it's gotten dark and it's winter, I think I prefer to walk today. The cold of men is worse than the cold of the night. It's a voluntary cold.

Chapter 2: Penny and Murray

To get home it's necessary to climb a set of never ending stairs. It's something I'm used to, but every step hurts due to the punches and it takes me twice as long to get to the top. From here, I continue to the right for two more blocks. The wind blows intensely and I fold my arms over my chest to protect myself from the cold because my yellow sweater doesn't keep me warm enough.

It's hard to make way through the garbage that threatens to bury all of Gotham. The rats, on the other hand, are something one gets used to after a while. Personally, I don't mind them. I think they suffer the same luck we do. They just wander around desperately in search of a bit of food and shelter.

The building where I live is a damn horrible shack. It's old, collapsed and it sucks. Inside are at least two hundred appartments where people live cramped together like sardines. Mine is number 8A. There's barely enough space to fit in my mom and me. But, in spite of it all, it's the only good moment of my day when I get here, home.

- Happy, you're late! What happened?

Happy...that's what my mom calls me. It's ironic...Mom never leaves the house, her health is very fragile and she needs my help for almost everything. She can no longer work. Her name is Penny. I always prepare dinner and take it to bed for her. There's only one bed. Sometimes we share it and sometimes I sleep on the couch in the living room.

- I missed the last bus...- I explain while I take off my shoes and warm her a bowl of soup.

- Come quickly! The show is about to begin!

Every night before going to bed, we watch Murray's show. It's the best part of my day.

Murray is not just a comedian, he's the best comedian there is. He is everything I dream to be one day. When I watch his show, I often imagine that I'm there, that Murray invites me, that I tell hilarious jokes, that people applaud me and I make them laugh. Mom says that my purpose in life is to spread joy and laughter. It's something I take very serious. Mom and Murray are all I have, they are my company every night when I get home.

- Will you not eat, son?

- I'm not hungry.

- But look how skinny you are...eat a little, yes?

- Don't worry, mom...I'm fine.

After the show mom goes to sleep. I stay up for a little longer. I light a cigarette and take off my shirt. In days like these, I'm careful not to do it in front of mom, so that she doesn't see the bruises on my body or how terribly skinny I am. She doesn't need to know that people hurt me in the streets or that a clown's salary doesn't buy enough food for the two of us.

I try to write my diary, just like my therapist said. It's mostly lose thoughts, insignificant stuff that comes to my mind during the day. I don't wish to see anyone and at yet I need someone to speak with...and I solve the problem by talking to the paper. That said, it's not always easy to write down my thoughts because words have limits and thoughts don't have them.

For today I write a single line:

There is a certain amount of punishment in the mere fact of existing.

I am a clown, and to complete myself, or perhaps to complicate myself, I am also a dancer. Sometimes I start dancing in the dark, alone with the street lights peeking through the window. I don't need music, one carries music on the inside. I always picture an audience that admires me and says "Arthur, you're such a great dancer!"

-"Thanks!"- I reply and wave to my public.

How amazing it would be to be like Murray and fascinate the crowds every night. How awesome it would be to feel the sincere appreciation of the people. Their respect, their admiration, their love...How great it would be, even for just one day, to belong to the world of the happy.

[the-hybrid-lua]

So I get taking things you read online with a grain of salt. People lie, viruses get spread, and statistics can be presented in incredibly manipulative ways, we need to watch out for things.

With that said, I am tired of damn near everything I read getting the sarcastic "that happened" or "and then they all clapped" when I look at some of the notes. While I don't think every story happened, I feel that dismissing every story on that basis feeds into an idea that those interesting things never happen at all, to anyone, no matter what.

That might not seem like a big deal, but it does change people's perception. The people posting the stories end up getting notes and replies just saying that whatever happened didn't; to someone who may be insecure, someone posting because they felt good about what happened and wanted to share, that can hurt pretty badly. The people looking for a bit of fun or petty revenge may enjoy looking at the stories, then as soon as they look at the notes they get bombarded with all the people saying the story is fake, so those things don't happen ever, and there goes some of the fun that they are seeking out, along with the idea that those cool/inspirational/petty stories never actually happen, so why attempt to find them, even if it made the person happy to read them.

Obviously not everyone will be like that, and some cynicism can be helpful in critical thinking skills. But at the same time, dismissing everything outright changes how people will interact, and dismissing everything fails at developing critical thinking in the same way that accepting everything does.

We all have unbelievable stories. Hell, I have one about bringing an international youth organization to a halt for 2 hours because I disagreed with the way they were interpreting the bylaws, and another where I pushed through the biggest bylaw amendment in almost 100 years for the same youth group because I felt that it needed to be changed. Unbelievable? The first sounds like someone trying to be Petty and feel important, and the second is the exact type of story that would get the "and then they all clapped" response. Does that mean they didn't happen? Hell no, I remember them clearly, my name is still decently well known in the organization, and I still have the emails I needed/used for the second story.

Even I recognize that my own stories will seem unbelievable to people who don't actually know me. Very few of you reading this actually know me, and of those that do know me, only 5 of you actually know that it's me behind the username. But I'm also coming into this with that mindset, you people are not my friends, you don't actually know me, and whether you belief me or not, I don't care because it happened.

However, the constant dismissal has the potential to be damaging to others, specifically those who don't have that mindset. Which is annoyingly common on this website, and is part of why that dismissal is so exhausting, even to those who aren't personally invested.

[theinvisiblespoon]

Front of a Building - Chapter 5: You Waited Smiling For This

First  Prev  Next 

Yeah, I know, I know, it’s been five-ever. And it’s 1:30am EST. But here’s the thing; I made an outline. That’s when you know you’re screwed. Have fun! :)  Chapter title is from the song “burned out” by dodie. It’s cool. She’s cool. 

Word count: 1938 

Trigger warnings: insanity, manipulation, alcohol mention, fear, anger, surgery and gunshot mention, gun mention, discussion of murder (wkm), brief allusion to violence. It’s gonna be bad in the next one, too.

Ego Manor had three floors. The top floor only held Dark and Wilford. The second floor held the kitchen, storage closets, bathrooms, and the rooms of Bing, the Jims, King of the Squirrels, Bim Trimmer, Dr. Iplier, Chef Iplier, and Silver Shepherd. The first floor held a living room, a library, a recording studio, a clinic, bathrooms and the rooms of Host, Google, Ed Edger, and Yandereplier. It was less of a “manor” and more of a “really big house”, but everyone, if not lived together, existed together.

Dr. Iplier was helping Wilford Warfstache up the stairs to his room after the incident that had just occurred in the kitchen. It left him with more questions than answers, but at least he knew not to ask Wilford about this “William” guy again. He couldn’t say that he didn’t want to try again, however. He needed to know what was happening. And if the cost was the rest of Wilford’s sanity…Dr. Iplier glanced at his charge, who was mumbling softly, barely conscious. The doctor shook his head; what was he thinking? He couldn't do that to another ego, much less one of the oldest. But there was the thing — according to the Host, Wilford and Dark weren't the oldest. According to the Host, it was the Jims, of all people. How much did the Host know? That weirdo seemed to understand more than he was letting on.

"No, hey there, we're going this way, Wilford," he urged, turning the ego away from the banister.

"…it's my fault…" he stumbled, but Dr. Iplier caught him before anything else could happen. "…didn't mean to, I swear…"

The doctor searched Wilford's eyes, but they remained as unfocused as ever. "It's…okay, Wilford. It's okay. Just come with me, alright?"

He said something indistinguishable, and Dr. Iplier took that as a confirmation. As they struggled down the hallway and into Wilford's room, the doctor couldn't help but peek at the door to Dark's room. Three weeks had passed since, for lack of better words, his surgery. Wilford lurched forward before the doctor could get a longer look.

"Alright, alright, come on, in bed, let's go…" The Host had really outdone himself; Warfstache was utterly out of it. With one last push, Wilford fell into his bed, dazed and confused. He muttered something again, but it was barely audible.

"What was that?" Dr. Iplier asked, leaning in.

"…don't leave me here. Don't…" Wilford's face scrunched up at some unseen torment.

"Wilford, it's fine. I'll stay if you need—"

"…please, you're all I have left. I'm sorry, don't leave me, don't…" Wilford finally trailed off, sound asleep.

The doctor straightened up, confusion evident. Who was Wilford talking to? Who was William? What the hell was going on?

He leaned back, rubbing his face and calming his breathing. He needed…he needed coffee, he thought. He needed a drink, he tried not to think. Intent on making his way to the kitchen, he stepped out of Wilford's room, but then stopped in the middle of the hallway. Slowly, he turned to the next door down. Did he dare check on Dark? Everyone avoided the top floor when possible, and no one ever went within five feet of Dark's bedroom.

There were three steps between him and the door. Reluctantly, but fueled by curiosity and obligation, he took one of them. What are you so afraid of? He took the second. It's just a door. Don't be so paranoid. He took the last and raised his hand, but before he could knock, he heard a sharp ringing noise coming from directly behind him. Whirling around, he locked eyes with Dark himself.

"D-dark! I didn't see—"

"Clearly."

"I was j-just, uh, bringing Wilford up, and—"

Dark rolled his eyes and pushed past the doctor, reaching for the handle.

"Wait!" Dr. Iplier caught Dark's arm, who stilled. Slowly, Dark turned to stare at the doctor. He said nothing, but the ringing grew and his eyes flashed dangerously. Dr. Iplier let go and took a reflexive step back.

"What?" Dark asked through gritted teeth.

Dr. Iplier paused. Get out, his mind screamed at him. He ignored it. "Dark, are you okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's been three weeks since anyone's seen you, and well, you were shot—"

Dark's aura cracked, and he muttered something under his breath as he turned the handle. "Leave me the hell alone," he warned over his shoulder, and then the door slammed shut in Dr. Iplier's face.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, but he was still on edge. Before the door had shut, he had gotten a glimpse of the room beyond. It was completely torn apart; splintered wood from some type of furniture was scattered in a corner, the bed was overturned, the mirror was broken, and the lamp was laying on the ground. However, there was one thing left untouched. Not only was it intact, it was covered in dust — completely undisturbed. The doctor shut his eyes, trying to remember.

A pipe? No, something else. Long, with a handle…a silver handle. Not a pipe. A cane.

-oOo-

The Jims were an odd pair. They were always out and about, reporting on one thing or another. No one disturbed them — the Jims were best left to their own devices, doing…whatever they did. As a result of their constant absence, their room was more often than not empty. So, the next day, Dr. Iplier found it easy to slip into their shared bedroom when no one was looking.

The oldest egos, huh?

He had reasoned that there was no extracting any helpful or reliable information from the pair, but as they recorded nearly every event remotely interesting in their lives, their tapes might tell a different story. Looking at the boxes upon boxes of VHS tapes spilling out from the open closet, however, Dr. Iplier wished he could go back to his office and drop this entire thing. Groaning, he settled himself onto the floor and pulled a box towards him.

Title after title previewed nothing but useless footage. He pushed aside a saga of sand castle related film to find a tape labeled "JELLY BEANS?!" An entire box told the thrilling tale of buying furniture at IKEA, and another revealed the secret conspiracy of oceans. After an agonizing two hours later, he was still finding nothing. Each title was more stupid than the last: "WRAPPING PAPER FIASCO!", "BOOKS: THE MOVIE", "CRAYON CANON!!", "CORPSE ABDUCTION?", "BIRDS IN TREES!" — wait. Corpse abduction? Since when was there a death? Dr. Iplier picked up a stack of VHS tapes held together by string and reread the first one again. No, that definitely said "corpse abduction". He sat up straighter and turned the stack to see the rest of the titles. They read "SUSPECT WITH A SHOOTY?!", "DEMONS JIM, DEMONS!!" and "DUMMY JIM REENACTS GRISLY SCENE!" This had to be what he was looking for. Excitement flooded through him, and he eagerly undid the string, pulling out the first tape. He stood up (ow, that did not feel good), stepped over his haphazardly made piles, and slid the tape into the TV next to the closet.

The scene opened up on a shot of a manor. Words flashed across the screen: "Breaking News: Markiplier Manor."

Mark has never owned a manor.

Someone was shouting.

"Jim! Jim!" The camera panned to a shot of Jim, gesturing at his the cameraman — his brother. "Jim, come on! I've got the shot!"

When was this made? Even for a VHS, this thing was old. He glanced down at the other tapes in his hand, but the date was either not marked or faded completely. He frowned and went back to watching the TV. A detective had just come into view.

The Jims had been spotted. The detective was now yelling from out of frame. "Hey! Who the hell are you? You listen, this is a crime scene!"

Crime scene? Not only was there a manor that had never been known to exist, but a crime had been committed there?

The Jims were sneaking into the room. The reporter gestured at an outline of a body, and soon after he held up a gun.

"This is profound, in the least," He was saying.

You got that right.

The tape ended in static. The excitement of success was gone, and Dr. Iplier was once again left with more questions than answers.

In went the second tape; except for more of the detective being shown, nothing helpful. In went the third; nothing helpful was in this tape either. He had begun to give up hope when the fourth tape came into view. The Jims were making their way into a room full of evidence. Dr. Iplier fumbled for the remote but finally managed to hit the pause button.

"Don't trust the Seer," he read aloud. The Seer? Who is the Seer?

He continued the tape, starting and stopping to read parts of the scraps of paper littered across the walls and on the desk.

"…safari hunt gone wrong…mayor in legal trouble…" There were (what he guessed to be) names beneath pictures of people, but he couldn't read them. "Fallen movie star…police remain clueless following celebrity death…celebrity actor in cahoots with beloved mayor…" So the movie star — the celebrity — died, and this guy was involved with a corrupt mayor? "…the colonel did it. The colonel did it, the colonel did it, the colonel…"

He should feel excited for knowing more now, shouldn't he? Why, then, did it feel like being in the eye of a storm?

He let his mind wander over the evidence he just been given, the tape falling into static. Dr. Iplier was lost in thought when he heard the pounding of footsteps in the hall.

"We got it, Jim! We got the shot! Jim is going to be so—" Jim skidded to a halt, his brother nearly running straight into him camera-first. "What are you doing here?"

The doctor was about to retort back when he realized this wasn't his own room. "Uh," is what he settled on instead.

"Hey! Those are our tapes!"

"Oh, I was just—" he clumsily hid the ones he was holding behind his back, but he was saved the trouble of finishing his statement by the cameraman gesturing at the other Jim. He was hovering over a half-empty box Dr. Iplier had stopped looking through. Reporter Jim peered over his brother's shoulder. "Jim, look at that!"

The camera was already pointing at the box, so the Jim holding said camera compensated by zooming in further.

"Have you ever seen those tapes before, Jim?" Jim held up his mic to the box as if expecting it to answer.

"Tapes? What tapes?" Dr. Iplier stood and gazed into the box, too. Four tapes stood out from the rest, the black cover contrasting against its white title. The doctor reached in and picked them up. "Who Killed Markiplier?" he spoke aloud. He hadn't seen these before. Why didn't he see these before?

"Hey!" Jim protested. "Those are ours!"

"You just said you had never seen—"

CRASH!

All three of them froze, staring at each other in the tense silence. The silence broke, and Reporter Jim was the first out of the room, followed by his brother with Dr. Iplier close at his heels. They burst into the kitchen together, looking wildly around for the source of the noise. Their eyes locked onto the Host.

He was on the floor, clutching his throat, with Google towering above him.

First  Prev  Next 

Taglists: 

Everything: @abbaquiche @ironwoman359 @lemme-talk-to-ya-plants @pain-in-my-aesthetic @princessbelix @punknerdmusings @virgil-loves-princey 

Front of a Building: @darkfixation @forgottenbehindtheinternet @inarticulate-screaming @i-am-not-anon @logicalfixation @nammies @pleaseletthisjimbetaken@readeatfightlove13 @sweetsweetfanfics @theashofwkm @the-asexual-reaper 

As always, if you want to be taken on or off a taglist, just let me know!

[oumakokichi]

I know this is a really simple question and I should know but I don't, but, what were the motives for the chapters?

There’s no need to worry, anon! It’s a simple question butconsidering how roundabout ndrv3 is and how much of it is a subversion onprevious DR games, it’s much harder to follow the “motive” pattern this timearound than in previous games. There was also a lot of misinformation about themotives when the game first launched. I saw many people claiming that ndrv3Chapter 2 was “almost an exact rehash” of sdr2 Chapter 2 for instance, and thiswas absolutely not true. So a lot of things got either lost in translation ormixed up because of rumors and speculation.

I don’t mind explaining the motives per each chapter at all!This will of course delve into spoiler territory, so I’ll put it all under theread more!

Chapter 1’s motive is perhaps the most straightforward andto-the-point motive of any DR game: there’s a 2-day time limit to kill someone.Monokuma tells them that if no one is dead after 2 days, “all people forcedinto the killing game will be killed.” This language is very intentionallyvague and even Saihara speculates on it for a while—but the threat is huge andlooming.

It might seem a cheap motive, even cheaper and dirtier as atactic than the “kill someone or everyone starves” motive in sdr2, but there’sa good reason for it in hindsight. Without someone dying in order to jumpstartthe game, the killing game show’s ratings would plummet. The audience watchingthe game would lose interest. That 2-day time limit is the surefire way to putpressure on all the students, make sure they don’t trust one another, andalmost guarantee that someone will die, therefore kickstarting the whole restof the game into action.

Chapter 2’s motive is an intentional throwback and referenceto dr1 Chapter 1: the motive is literally “important friends and family,” andthey use motive videos in almost the exact same style as the motive videos indr1. Monokuma in these videos even says that they’re “back by popular demand,”alluding once again to the fact that people are watching the killing game showand leaving feedback and input on what they want to see more of.

Unlike dr1, however, the motive videos were intentionallyhanded out differently. Rather than going to the people they belong to, theywere supposed to be handed out to different members of the group, so that noone would receive their own motive video. The brunt of the decision was onthem, then, to decide if they all wanted to share videos and see who their “mostimportant people” were, or if they wanted to ignore the motive entirely andprove that there was “no reason to kill one another.”

Unsurprisingly, however, Monotarou, the “clumsy, forgetfulleader” of the Monokumerz, messed this up. He accidentally gave Kirumi her ownmotive video from the start, and this ensured her willingness to kill—because sherealized she had “the whole of Japan on her shoulders” and decided that if shehad to put the lives of her classmates on one side of the scale and the entirepopulation of Japan on the other, she’d pick the latter. Monotarou’s “accident”I’m sure is probably something that ran entirely according to a script andscenario laid out by the ringleader in order to “make the killing game moreexciting.” After all, even when the Monokumerz are mostly just idiots doingthings for comic relief, they always pretty much follow the same kind ofscripted routine that’s expected of them.

Chapter 3’s motive is perhaps the least relevant in the entiregame, and the weakest. The official motive that Monokuma actually gives them inorder to try to prompt any of them to kill someone is “resurrection.” He tellsthem all that they’ll have “a transfer student” join their group, and that thattransfer student will actually be one of their dead classmates, resurrected andbrought back to them.

This motive is obviously impossible and fake, but the occultundertones do color the whole chapter from that point on. Both Angie andKorekiyo in particular deal quite a lot with the occult and with themes of resurrectionfrom that point on—Angie’s wax figures which she creates are in fact becauseshe believes in the resurrection ceremony, and they’re so lifelike that for amoment when Saihara and the others enter her research lab, they kind of wereafraid she actually had “brought back the dead.” Korekiyo, meanwhile, iscompletely unconcerned with resurrecting any of their deceased classmates, buthe is completely obsessed with the idea of resurrecting his sister. So whilerevival of the dead is a motive which is ultimately just thrown in for show, itdoes highlight some of the chapter’s themes.

Chapter 4’s motive is a bit harder to understand. It’s ahuge and overarching core part of the game, but because it’s not directlypresented but only alluded to until much later, it’s very hard to understand.The gist of it is this: Monokuma hands them a key card and tells them that whatit leads to is their motive for killing. Before any of them can think what itmight go to or use it for themselves, Ouma snatches it and runs off with it,and Momota chases him around for a while only to lose track of him. When Oumafinally meets back up with the group later on, he claims he couldn’t find whatit went to and didn’t use the key card at all.

This, however, was a lie. The key card goes to the electricpanel at the end of the mini-game platformer featured in Chapter 1—the superdifficult, almost-impossible-to-complete platformer which can lead you to a “secretbonus ending” (albeit, a very short one) if you somehow are good enough atplatforming to complete the game by normal means. And the door at the end ofthat platformer leads to “the truth of the outside world.”

This “truth,” as I’ve translated and written about in someof my transcriptions with ne0dym, is that the whole world is supposedly ashambles, ruined, with all their friends and family and anyone they ever lovedalready dead. The atmosphere and sky are horribly on fire and ruined, the earthwas largely destroyed by meteor showers, and even if they get outside, there’sno “home” or “people they loved” for them to go back to.

The point of this motive was that it was so horribly,incredibly crushing that it would inspire even the most upbeat or optimisticmember of the group to become immediately depressed and suicidal. Ouma snatchedthe card for himself in order to try and prevent any of the rest of the groupfrom seeing what motive Monokuma had in store for them (and was understandablypretty impacted by the horrible truth that he saw).

He originally had no plans to show anyone else this “motive”precisely because it was so horrible—however,once he knew that Miu was planning to kill him, he decided to change tactics,and “collaborated” with Monokuma, telling him that if he would “rehash” thesame motive and make it into a remember light, it would “make the killing gamemore exciting.” He wanted Monokuma to put this remember light into the VR worldso that Ouma could share the truth with only one select person, and then thatperson, knowing the depressing, unshakable truth, would agree to help him withhis plan and would kill Miu in his stead. Monokuma agreed because “making thekilling game more exciting” doesn’t count as a rule violation, and he wasn’tdirectly helping or hindering Ouma’s or Miu’s plans to kill one another.

Then we arrive at Chapter 5. Strictly speaking, Chapter 5 isa no-motive chapter until much later. Ouma specifically tries to hijack controlof the game from the real ringleader by setting himself up to be the villaininstead. Because the rest of the group is determined to escape to the outsideworld (which he has already seen for himself) and because their plan againstMonokuma is so incredibly dangerous and risky, he shows them all “the truth ofthe outside world” for themselves in the most blunt way possible, telling themthat there’s no point to trying to get out, and saying point-blank “the killinggame is over now.”

This leaves the group lethargic and depressed, and doessucceed in bringing the whole game directly to a halt. With no incentive to getoutside, and with no people or places to go back home to anymore, there’s noincentive for anyone to kill anymore. And this depressing stalemate is theworst-case scenario to the real ringleader, who only whips up a motive muchlater by creating a fake remember light in which they trick the group (exceptMomota and Ouma, who are holed up in the machinery bay) into thinking they’reall students of Hope’s Peak Academy.

This fake remember light is the motive for Chapter 5,essentially. In a way, you could say Chapter 5’s motive is “Hope’s Peak,” or even that it’s “hope vs. despair.” Because thewhole group is tricked into thinking that Ouma is literally Junko 2.0, and hersuccessor as the leader of the Remnants of Despair, and because they allbelieve themselves now to be “the last remaining hope of the world,” they findtheir motivation to keep going—and this motivation is what jumpstarts thekilling game again. Maki leaps into action to try and kill Ouma specificallybecause she believes him to be SHSL Despair.

Finally, we have Chapter 6. The chapter opens up with Kiibohaving lost his ahoge in a semi-hilarious turn of events where Momota’s failedexecution (failed because he died midway through it from his illness instead)actually knocked the ahoge right off his head. The ahoge was actually anantenna which transmitted the voices and opinions of the killing game audiencedirectly to his consciousness in the form of his “inner voice” which he turnedto whenever he was confused on what to do. Without these voices guiding him ortelling him what to do anymore, Kiibo found clarity of the first time—and decidedthat in order to completely eradicate the despair of the killing game andSaishuu Academy as a whole, he would blow the whole place to pieces, if that’swhat it took.

Saihara and the others are understandably shocked when hestarts trying to blow the whole place down, but Kiibo’s mind is made up. Ifthis is what it takes for “hope” to stop “despair,” he’s willing to do so,moreso after seeing the lengths to which Ouma and Momota were willing to go inChapter 5 to strike back at the real ringleader. But Saihara convinces him thatthere has to be another way, and that there must be some “truths” they haven’treached yet. So Kiibo gives him a time limit of “until the sun rises” and tellshim to uncover whatever he can about Saishuu Academy and change his mind, if atall possible.

“Truth,” then, is probably the best motive for Chapter 6.Saihara investigates the entire school from top to bottom, following a hugetrail of breadcrumbs left for him by Ouma. After turning Ouma’s bedroom, Amami’sresearch lab, the ringleader’s lair, and pretty much every inch of the schoolover, Saihara finds enough evidence that convinces him of several important “truths”they’ve been missing, and demands Kiibo and Monokuma stop their battle andinstead calls for a retrial of Amami’s murder. And that’s where he decides toprove that the ringleader was never playing fair from the start, because Kaedewas unjustly framed and executed for a murder she never committed.

Anyway, these are the gist of all of them. Each chapter hasa sort of underlying theme even in places where direct motives aren’t stated, especiallyin Chapters 5 and 6 where things are happening so quickly. But I hope thisclears things up, anon!