#he finally had his growth spurt it literally happened overnight

[nightleaf001]

Cat Cross (will post individually in the future)

[0alanasworld0]

Superstar

Request: hey girl can u please make a smut or a fan fic abt amir Richardson he is so fine and theres literally nothing abt him on the internet yet😭 tyy

Warnings: none

“She’s super nice, man! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Super nice and way out of my league! Fucking look at her, dude!” Amir whisper-shouts as the group all take it in turns to take a glance at you in your friend group.

It was a tough pill to swallow but Amir had a point. At 13 he had expected to have finally started showing his dad’s genes: a growth spurt that he felt he very much needed. He was the son of a star basketball player yet one of the smallest in the grade and he hated it. The thing he hated most was the fact that he stood no chance with you. There was no way in hell you would even spare him a glance so he supposed he just had to wallow in his misery.

Basketball certainly wasn’t an option for him so he looked to other options. You once again worm your way into his mind and he remembers something. one of his few interactions with you. 

“Oh hey you left your phone!” He calls out as you’re about to walk away. It was the end of the day and the last thing you needed was to let your phone hang around overnight and lose it.

As he picks it up, he gets to glance at your lockscreen and he’s intrigued. Number 22: Ziyech. He didn’t take you for a football fam but he sure as hell welcomed it. Of course you were cool like that.

He doesn’t have much time to think it over before you turn around and he can feel his heart in his throat at the sight of you. He’s fighting the urge to run away from you because the way you made him feel just wasn’t normal. Oh god you were smiling at him. Think, Amir! Think!

“Thank you so much! I bet I wouldn’t have seen it again if it stayed overnight!” You joke. You couldn’t help but take some enjoyment in his nervous giggles. He really was such a sweetheart but you didn’t want to scare him off. He was shy enough as it was so you thought it would be best to leave him be. 

“Sooooo… Hakim Ziyech?” 

“He’s not Messi but he’ll always be my favourite ever!” You gush, forgetting that you had to get going and continuing to elaborate on your love for the Ajax star. He listened to every word with a smile because he loved seeing you so engrossed and passionate. 

Amir treasured that memory with everything he had. His first of very few interactions with you. He’d somehow managed to keep up with you to the extent where he was getting almost as excited about it as you were. With every question he could see your eyes brighten up, your smile grew wider and you got a little bit louder. 

And that was that. He would try his luck at football. He gathered from your conversations with him that height wasn’t an important factor at all for the attacking positions. Sometimes even the opposite was true. Even his friends were hyping him up for it: he was physically fit enough, quick, a good decision-maker. He may have needed a little work on the ball but he would get there.

He spent hours on the internet looking for tutorials on the simple stuff, getting his friends to help him out and his parents gladly got him everything he needed. His dad supposed that if basketball wasn’t the path, some other sport would have to do.

When he got his chance to try out, he was a little bit messy; made some mistakes but he thought he’d done okay overall. And indeed he did: a place on his school team. Sure, it was as a 3rd choice midfielder but he supposed it would have to do for now.

Although when he had told you about it, he may have omitted the 3rd choice part. On complete accident of course. So when the day of his first match does roll around, he’s a little nervous to say the least. 

It gets to the week before and you’re of course buzzing more than he is.

“This is so exciting! You’re going to become a superstar, I just know it!” you exclaimed, jumping up and down and he could only smile.

“I don’t know about that…” he scratches the back of his head, looking around awkwardly and you furrow your eyebrows.

“Come on! You never know who’s around the corner in these things. They have to get them from somewhere, no?”

“Yeah like Brazil and England maybe! Why would they even think of looking in the land of ‘soccer’ ?!”

“It’s a huge talent pool! You gotta have a little faith and even then, I have more than enough for the both of us!” you bounce up and down on your toes and all he can do is smile. He’s been in love with you for longer than he can remember and here you are at one of his matches, buzzing with excitement at the idea of supporting HIM. How had he managed this one?

Warming up wasn’t much of a priority for him today since he wasn't even expecting to be on the field. So he’d spent a good amount of time simply searching for you on the bleachers. When he finally finds you among the crowd, you’re too busy talking to your friends to notice so he’s happy to just keep his eyes on you. He’s nowhere near as chatty as he usually is and the lack of snarky comments thrown in their way has his friends confused so they all take a second to see where he’s looking and of course they spot you.

“Damn did you invite her?!”

“She would have probably come anyway” he defends but to no avail.

“Nah man, respectfully I don’t think this is the kind of soccer she’s into, you know?”

They all nod in agreement and all Amir can do is desperately avoid any eye contact. Yes, he had invited you here but he didn’t need to be fed delusions about what it meant. 

“Damn bro, I thought you said she was out of your league…” his friend nudges him while the rest snicker. All out of love and relief of course. They’d watch their friend fawn over you for too long so seeing things finally move forward was a huge deal to all of them.

They can’t help but tease him further, all frantically waving and yelling in your general direction while Amir scrambles to stop them. But alas it's already too late and you’re gazing down at the group, eyes specifically on Amir as you smile and wave. He wasn’t nervous before, not like he was playing anyway, but now… he felt like he had to do something. Make you proud. You had given him the idea to try football after all. You had all this faith in him.

He wasn’t feeling anything like this before. The bench was comfortable but he only grew more antsy as the minutes ticked on. Did he seriously invite you here to watch him twiddle his thumbs? Embarrassing. 

But with some perfect timing, he sees his coach beckon him over. His teammates push him off the bench when he takes a little too long to react and against all odds, he’s going on. His 45 minutes to shine. His eyes blur as he runs into position and forgets to look up for you but you’re visibly ecstatic. Your own friends are teasing you for how fond you were over him.

He was nervous beyond anything he could express but he did everything he could to channel that into his game. It felt like a make-or-break in more ways than one, that was for sure. 

It was like a dream. It felt so easy, almost too easy. It was as if… no. He was doing well. And he simply couldn’t believe it. The minutes flew by and he only got more and more confident. He couldn’t even bring himself to care when his teammates were wasting his chances. Because at the end of the day, they were still HIS chances. 5 of them on his debut + some solid dribbles and tackles wasn’t bad at all.

Sure, they had lost. And by a slightly embarrassing margin but all he really cared about was that HE had done well. He had to have impressed you and that was the only thing that was on his mind as he searched for you, finally being able to find you as you made your way over to him.

He could care less about his friends snickering and hollering as he made his own way over, marching towards you as quickly as he could without going into a full-on sprint. Although he was tempted.

He knew you were going to be proud of him but he certainly didn’t expect you to throw yourself at him for a hug. Nearly knocked him off his feet but he manages to recover quickly enough and wrap his arms around you lightly. 

“I knew you could do it, see! You were amazing out there!” oh god his heart was back to being in his throat so he has to choke out his next words.

“I mean it’s only my first game, could be a purple patch for all we know…” you detach yourself from the hug too soon for his liking.

“Absolutely not, you’re gonna go big soon I just know it!” 

He thinks back to your words quite regularly. You couldn’t have had any idea at the time just how right you were. You sounded so delusional back then, like you were just telling him what he wanted to hear. 

But years on, he’s finally reached that growth spurt that he had been praying for all the time ago and he has an agent negotiating with multiple clubs for him. And the best part of it all was that you were still by his side, seeing the fruits of your delusions coming alive. Not a hint of surprise on your end, you were always so sure of him.

Perhaps the only downside was that in spite of his newfound confidence, he was still stuck in that friendship stage with you. He had gained a lot more *attention* over the years but he still only had eyes for you. You still made him so fucking nervous but he had gotten better at composing himself. He had even gotten a little flirty, now being the one to make you all nervous and blushy. And he revelled in every second of it.

“I have something for you!” he reveals as he catches up with you in the corridor. He’s clutching his jersey in his hands.

“Isn’t that going to be a little big on me?” you tease, still taking it from his hands as he rolls his eyes.

“Oh please! You would look amazing in anything, especially one of my jerseys.” he says matter-of-factly and you can only blush.

“You should wear it to my match on Sunday!” you narrow your eyes to challenge him before he elaborates.

“Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaase! It’ll be all the moral support I need. All you have to do is sit pretty!” He tries to bargain but he knows that you would always be there to support him no matter what. He would drop everything to do the same for you as well. 

The interaction doesn’t happen too far away from his friends' lockers and they’re all eager to know whether he’s finally made a solid move.

“Just making sure she’s coming on Sunday! You can calm down!” Amir rolls his eyes, refusing to make eye contact with anyone as he pretends to go through his locker.

“Is that your jersey in her hand?” 

“Yeah I mean she is my best friend, totally normal stuff.”

“Well it would be if you still weren’t madly in love with her. Dude, it's been 4 years. She liked you when you were 5’3 for fucks sake. What makes you think she's switched up when you’re pushing to 6’2?!” 

“Yeah, she sees me as a friend! No need to complicate things!”

“Whatever, man.”

Even further on, more years later and somehow you’re still there supporting him. You had to do it from afar for a good while but the affection hadn’t died at all. You couldn’t be prouder of each other as you fulfilled your dreams. Time would bring you back together eventually, he was sure of that.

An excruciating couple of years apart but he was beyond grateful that he had you there, in person, to support him in the biggest moment in his career so far. Now all he had to do was win. Make the long flight and scheduling all worth your while. Something was also telling him that this would be his chance. He had been waiting for the right moment long enough and he just knew that winning today would be just the confidence boost he needed.

It seemed like a pretty easy task, they had flown through the tournament thus far like it was nothing. He was certainly on his best form and he had looked forward to an excited facetime call at the end of every victory. 

That didn’t feel as certain today though. Things were tough. Much tougher than previous matches and although the whole team were made aware of it before, it was still a shock to the system.

Even with every single white shirt turning into a defender trying to knock him down, trying to intimidate him, he only had one thing on his mind. He didn’t just want to win. He NEEDED to win. He’s been dreaming of the perfect moment for years. He brought you all the way over to Rabat to watch him just like old times. It was so close, he could taste it. 

All they needed was an equaliser. And when the equaliser finally came they needed one more goal to hit it home. Egypt’s best off the pitch, down to 10 men. They HAD to win it now. 

You were just as nervous as he was; heart in your throat, shaky hands. It was a moment you had seen him work his ass off for and you wanted nothing but success for him. An international trophy at 21 felt like the perfect climax to his career thus far. 

Although he had a very clear mind as to where he wanted to stand with you, you had resigned to the friendship role a long time ago. There was a point in time at which you really thought he liked you. Everyone did at the time but with all the girls after him and a lack of movement on his end, you supposed that you were maybe imagining things. Or even worse, that feelings had faded on his end. You didn’t like to consider that possibility at all, it made you sick to your stomach.

He still meant the world to you so of course you couldn’t let him go like that but you always looked back with disappointment. You told yourself that you were more than happy to be his friend, and that the feelings would eventually fade. Yet no other guy made you feel the way he did. No one ever compared to him. You cursed him for the way he raised your standards so high as a mere friend, for the way he always lingered in your mind as the one who got away. 

None of that mattered in the moment because the way the stadium erupted upon the much awaited 2nd goal to put Morocco in the lead. You could feel your eyes well up with tears. Only 15 minutes on the clock and your Amir would be crowned a champion. You always knew. Even if he didn’t, even when it felt so far-fetched and fictional you always knew. Your Amir, your superstar. 

The 15 minutes feel like 15 years and your heart doesn’t slow down in that time until you finally hear that whistle. The noise of the stadium has you almost dizzy and the welled up tears start cascading down your face as reality kicks in. Champions of Africa.

You don’t even have time to think before you start sprinting down the steps and towards the pitch, pass in hand so you could get in as quickly as possible. Amir is already looking around for you so he catches sight of you quickly and begins his sprint towards you too.

The collision is heavy but thankfully he’s strong enough and manages to catch you in his arms mid-jump. You bury your face in his neck as he spins you around. Your head is spinning when he puts you down so you’re grateful for the way he brings you in for another hug, feet on the ground this time. You can only breathe out in relief as you gently squeeze your arms around him and run your hands over the expanse of his back. He reciprocates with a squeeze of your waist and a small kiss to the top of your head.

“I guess you were right.” he laughs. You look up at him, a silent request to elaborate.

“About the whole ‘superstar’ thing, remember? I mean you’re the smartest person I know but telling the future?! You’re something else!” 

You go to respond until you’re interrupted.

“Oh so here’s the happy couple!” none other than the captain chimes in, throwing an arm over Amir as you break the hug.

“You know, Amir has told us all about you!” he tells you loudly and Amir’s eyes widen. You can only smile and blush a little at his implication. Abde only ever joked but the idea of you meaning something more to Amir put butterflies in your tummy.

“I’ve mentioned you a couple times.” he attempts to clarify, shaking his head dismissively.

“HA! That’s such a lie and you know it! He doesn’t shut up, he’s basically obsessed with you I swear-” Amir manages to get a hand over his mouth before he can reveal any more incriminating information.

He manages to drag Abde away and gets a chance to give you a quick hug and a kiss to your forehead as a goodbye before leaving to go with him, reminding you of where to go once the trophy ceremony was over. He puts a thumbs up as you yell a reminder to him to get a photo with the trophy. The locker room celebrations awaited him and they always took a good while. He knew you hadn’t eaten much so he hoped you could grab a little bite to eat while you were there.

Once you’re out of earshot and walking away, he takes his chance to scold his friend.

“Seriously, dude?!” 

“What?! I thought I could speed things up, you can’t let this shit drag on forever, you’re only gonna start resenting each other and grow old and miserable. This is boring as fuck, just man up and tell her because it’s so obvious that you’re made for eachother it’s funny!” Abde shakes his head, walking off and jumpscaring another fellow teammate. Stupid antics aside, the captain had some wise words about him, Amir had to admit. His doubts still lingered and he still felt a desire to preserve the friendship he had built with you, keep it safe from anything and everything that could jeopardise it.

You were proud beyond words. The tears came quickly as you watched him receive his gold medal. You had seen him every step of the way. And even though you didn’t know it, you were the reason he picked the damn sport in the first place. His true passion and calling. Amidst the pride and joy, you still felt a pang in your heart. Years of supporting each other and the idea of your love being limited to a friendship hurt. You caught the way he used to look at you quite often. You, yourself, genuinely believed that he liked you yet years on and one giant growth spurt later, you wondered whether maybe he had lost interest along the way; with his newfound confidence and much larger dating pool. Some of those girls were true stunners and you made it a point to never stare as he conversed with them. It would only break your heart. The real shame was that if you had looked, you would see him reject them as kindly as he could. You would see them walk away slightly peeved and you would see him looking right back at you. Because even with everything that had happened, it still was and would always be you. But your attempts at hiding away and protecting yourself prevented you from seeing the obvious. 

Your back is to him when he comes to find you. The locker room celebrations finally over. He tried his best to not show his impatience in the locker room but they all knew. So he was not-so-forcefully kicked out so he could go to the one person he actually wanted to be around. 

He’s glad to see you eating and looking lively as you talked with some of the other family members that were there. He takes a moment to get a proper look at you while you still hadn’t noticed him. You were only wearing one of his jerseys and some baggy jeans but you still looked angelic to him. He knew you were tired beyond belief, your head probably pounding from the noise of the stadium but you still found it within yourself to smile with your eyes and light up the room like he’d always known you to do. Exhausted but still made those around you smile and chuckle. Your energy and beauty was apparent no matter what and he couldn’t get enough of you. His perception of you hadn’t changed since he was a kid, in fact they had probably only intensified. Even when he had girls fawning over him, his own friends telling him that he was now within your league he still felt so unworthy. Every glance in his direction, every smile, every word spoken, text sent felt like a Godsend. Come to think of it, he never really let himself think like this before, he pushed it away for the sake of preserving the friendship. So he could keep you in the only way he felt he deserved. 

At that very moment, the idea of staying only as your friend sounded like a version of hell. He needed more. All of a sudden, the urge to confront his feelings for you head on had grown stronger. He LOVED you. He wasn’t sure how he had managed to push the reality away for so long but it was so clear now. And you needed to know. 

He makes his way over, slightly speed-walking because he feared he would lose his nerve if he waited even a minute longer. It takes a little tap on your shoulder for you to finally notice him and the people you were talking to take it as their sign to walk away as you turn around. You immediately wrap your arms around him in a tight hug with your head on his chest. He hoped to god you couldn’t feel the way it was hammering away. You could tell when he was nervous without that but he hoped that somehow you hadn’t picked up on it this once. He reciprocates with the same love and enthusiasm, lifting you up slightly as you squeal. You don’t seem to be letting go of the hug any time soon so he opts to whisper in your ear.

“Can we talk somewhere quieter?” you reluctantly remove your head from his chest as you look up at him, slight concern in your eyes.

“Everything okay?” he nods vigorously, unravelling himself from your arms, holding your hand gently as he guides you away to a quiet balcony. 

It felt like destiny here. The cool, crisp air. Clear night sky, stars twinkling and the moon radiant as ever. It was a beautiful scene but you were still the one he couldn’t keep his eyes off of. He takes a second to get one more proper look at you before he begins.

He takes both of your hands in his and you now feel your heart starting to beat faster. You look down at where their intertwined as a way of avoiding those bambi eyes of his. The way yours looked so much smaller in his. The warmth soothing your cold fingertips and the nails that you had manicured the night before, much to his dismay.

“You’ve been there since I could barely kick a ball, you know?” he squeezes your hands gently, a small smile on his face as he recalls your first encounter. You finally look up at him, giving him a small cute one in return.

“You told me I was going to make it big even then, how did you know?”

“Entuition and delusion, love.” you joke and he chuckles a little, dropping his head down to calm himself before finally getting his confession out.

“It feels kind of like a soulmate thing, you know?” 

“Well yeah we’re best friends for life, aren’t we?”

“Sure but I was thinking of a different kind of soulmate…”

“I don’t follow…”

“I love you, in a soulmate way. You’ve been the light of my life since all the way back then and that hasn’t changed now. It just feels like we’re not just supposed to be best friends, you know?”

“Amir please…”

“I’m in love with you. Like pathetically and hopelessly in love. I don’t think I can do ‘just best friends’ anymore because I’ve always seen you beyond that…” he physically couldn’t get anymore words out so he hoped that would do and he could feel his heart ready to burst from his chest as he waited for your response.

The silence was loud, all-encompassing, almost suffocating and it felt like time had stopped as you tried to figure out what to say. He could see the cogs turning in your mind yet he had no idea what kind of reply awaited him. 

He’s perhaps a little too far in his own head because all of a sudden he feels one of your hands leave his and make its way to the back of his head. He was still trying to process things so his vision was all a blur. The next thing he feels is the greatest surprise. A soft pair of lips on his, like flower petals. Delicate and smooth and so so sweet and addicting. He freezes for a second, asking himself whether this was reality or not. It felt like one of his dreams, his mind was floating as the joy overtook him.

The hand still intertwined with yours lets go and find purchase on your waist, giving a light squeeze as he returns the kiss. It was so soft and gentle that it almost felt as if you weren’t there. Feathlight, perhaps still a little uncertain so he leans forward to deepen it. It was definitely real. He was still floating but it was real. And he couldn’t be more excited.

You take your time with the kiss, doing everything you could to make the moment last and you only part for breath, faces still only a few centimetres away.

“I love you too…” you whisper, still slightly breathless and panting from the previous events. You can only look into his eyes for a second before getting shy and hiding your head under his chin again. 

“Your heart is going at like 80 a minute you know? You should get it checked out.” you joke and he gently pinches your side.

“Can you blame me?” You both laugh together, content in each other's arms, staring out at the Rabat skyline and admiring the twinkling stars.

The moment is interrupted by an audience that Amir maybe should have expected. Of course his teammates arrive to finally witness it.

“It took you lovebirds long enough goddamn! Thought we would be stuck listening to him droning on for years to come, fucking idiot.” Abde shakes his head while the others cackle. You can only blush while Amir gives them as stern a look as he could manage. 

They finally leave after a couple more minutes of them berating him for waiting this long and your small breathy laughs turn into full-on giggles as you learn the true extent of his love. Looking back, you had both been a bit stupid. So scared of nothing when things were so blatantly obvious. But better late than never, you supposed. You finally had each other. You didn’t have time to think about the wasted years as you looked forward to what was ahead. Mutual feelings out in the open: shared passions and desire, a level of love and respect that spanned 8 beautiful years, excitement for the future. As if Amir’s night couldn’t get any better he finally had the prize he had been wanting from the very beginning. His CAN trophy and medal were great but he finally had you. Not just a best friend but a lover. 

You stay in your places for a while, continuing to admire the sky before turning to look at each other again. You narrow your eyes at the cheeky smile that makes its way onto his face.

“What are you looking at?” he doesn’t say a word, taking your breath away with yet another, slightly more desperate kiss which you’re quick to reciprocate. You both smile into it as you soak in the relief of the moment. Years of pining and he was finally yours, your superstar.

Again, very long overdue lmfao. I know the Amir hype has died down significantly since the U23 CAN but i still adore him so i hope u guys like this too <3

[phantom-does-a-thing]

rolan deep is a little too tall. like even in high school, because thats when he got bugged n shit, kian and rand and himself all thought he just hit a growth spurt (“finally” rand joked because rolan was the shortest before buggo time), but everyone else was terrified because rolan had gone from like 5’4” to 6’1” overnight

and also he likes honey because he bee :3

He's like unsettlingly tall. And he's super scrawny and it's almost disproportional. I can't even imagine how hard finding clothes would be for him. None of his pants fit, finding dress shirts or any sort of long sleeved shirt that fits is just so awful. But yeah it pretty much happened over night, after he got bugged he just grew so much. I think he got hungrier too because like whatever growing boy (bug) as well as a lot stronger. Like he looks so weak and frail like any gust of wind could blow him over but he can literally like throw Rand over his shoulder and run. That growth spurt (bug) hit him like a truck. Rand and Kian literally are not concerned by this at all because they love Rolan but everyone else in school is so ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

HE LIKE HONEY BECAUSE HE BEE!!!!!

[saikikusuwoah]

Something Is Up With The Runt

—————————————————————————————————————————-

Not even a Psychic could predict what happened on that day. It started off relatively normal, as these types of days tend to, but it quickly turned bizarre as soon as Kaido entered the classroom. Something was different in his psyche- the thoughts of his ‘superpowers’ were much more prevalent over his other thoughts. He was smiling giddily as he took his seat a few chairs behind me.

‘It’s actually real!’ He thought, his mind racing a mile a minute. ‘I actually have superpowers now!’

It took me by surprise a little, but I ignored it at the time, as it easily could have been, and most likely was, another one of his delusions. The first half of class proceeded rather uneventfully, but Kaido’s out-of-the ordinary thought still stuck in the back of my mind. I just couldn’t put my finger on why it was so odd to me. What could he mean, ‘actually real’? What happened last night that made him suddenly have this burst in enthusiasm for his delusions? It didn’t make sense to me, and for some reason, It was harder now to look into his mind and see what caused this. What was going on? There was some sort of barrier my powers couldn’t get past, I really only could hear his surface thoughts. By the time gym class rolled around, I was sufficiently stumped. Something definitely did change in Kaido’s head overnight. And in his body, too, apparently, as he was now about three inches taller. I noticed the sudden growth spurt as we changed into our gym uniforms. Our lockers were right next to one another’s, and as he undid his combination lock, I was surprised to see that the lock was now below his eye level, unlike it being just at eye level before.

Was I going crazy? Has anyone else noticed this?

“Yo, Buddy. What’s up with the runt? He seems a little weird today,” Nendo said, as he appeared behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder casually.

So I’m not going crazy. Nendo noticed it, and he’s an idiot.

Chiyo’s thoughts streamed relentlessly into my mind as Matsuzaki lined us all up outside the field house.

‘Shun looks so handsome today! I can’t believe it! Now all I need to do is get into some near-fatal accident so that he can swoop in and protect me!’

At least she’s acting somewhat normally.

Matsuzaki gathered us all together near the basketball net and explained the rules of scrimmage to us and instructed us to get a ball and break into teams.

Basketball isn’t really my thing, so I tried to get on Hairo’s team so that I wouldn’t have to try too hard. Of course, I ended up on his team, but… so did Kaido. Finally, for the first time today, Kaido approached me, a smug smile on his face. He laughed mockingly as he approached me from behind.

“Saiki, While I slept last night, I found myself gaining a new ability. I awoke this morning able to control this new power and summon it at will! Wanna see?” Kaido said, taking on an air of seriousness at the start, while the last bit dropped that act and switched to an excited question.

I said nothing, but that was because social convention stopped our conversation there. Matsuzaki had called attention and began the game. At this point,I was thankful to get away from that conversation. Even if it did mean I had to play a stupid game of basketball. Our team did not do well. During the game, I could hear Kaido’s distracted and muddled thoughts. He was still hung up on wanting to show me his ‘new ability’. As the game ended in my team’s horrible defeat, I simply shrugged it off and went to go change in the locker room. I thought it was weird that I didn’t see Kaido in the locker room with me, but I was able to pick up his thoughts from about 10 feet away.

‘Oh my god, oh my god. He’s gonna hit me!’

The bravest of heroes, I see. Takahashi and his scumbag friends were all surrounding Kaido, angry expressions on their faces, as they had apparently mistook Kaido’s offer of a handshake and a ‘good game’ as a threat somehow. They were insulted by Kaido telling them ‘good game’ for some bizarre reason. I considered turning myself invisible, as I was going to be the last one out of the locker room, and I didn’t want to be spotted by Kaido, but one of his thoughts suddenly alarmed me.

‘H-he’s asking for it at this point! O-ok, here we go!’

“You messed with the wrong person, Takahashi. You angered The Jet Black Wings!”

What I witnessed as I left the locker room was certainly unexpected. Kaido was standing, facing Takahashi now, wiping a small amount of blood from under his nose. Takahashi’s mocking laughter that had erupted after Kaido referenced his Chunibyo was soon quelled as bluish flames began to surround Kaido.

“What in the hell?” I whispered to myself.

The blue flames grew larger as Kaido chucked to himself and pointed forward at the boys.

“You’ve made a big mistake. BLACK BEAT!”

And then…. it appeared. It looked transparent, like a ghost. It took the form of a very muscular man with dark blue skin and blackish-blue hair covering its eyes. Red bandages were wrapped around its thighs and arms, much like Kaido. It’s most noticeable feature, though, was that it was floating above the ground using giant eagle-like black wings. Takahashi seemed extremely confused, as his thoughts were asking why Kaido’s hair was floating up as if being blown by a fan and why he was on freaking fire. However, he wasn’t freaking out about the man that could only be described as a ghost that was behind Kaido.

Until it hit him. Literally. The ghost, or as Kaido referred to it, ‘Black Beat’, began to throw multiple punches in rapid succession at Takahashi, effectively knocking him out cold. As his dirtbag friends fled, carrying a barely conscious Takahashi in tow, the flames around Kaido faded away, and he was left staring satisfactorily at the fleeing boys, smugly smiling, his arms crossed over his chest. He begins to say something about his power as he walks away, until he turns around and sees me, frozen in place, with the most confused look on my face that I’ve ever had.

[corcordium1983]

The character development of Michael Langdon

Ok so since AHS Apocalypse was recently released on UK (global?) Netflix, and I hadn’t seen it before, I want to have a quick chat about Michael Langdon’s character development. We see that he had an overnight growth spurt as a kid, and just woke up in a teenager’s (or possibly young adult’s) body one morning, while he still very much had the mentality and maturity of a child. This carried over until his warlock days, he’s still petulant and wants to prove people wrong, to prove that he’s superior et.c. He seems to have a slight upswing in confidence here, possibly because he has a coven backing him as the Alpha, but is still not particularly mature (look at the way he runs to and hugs Ms. Mead, for example). He then seems to have a decline after his wizards betrayed him and Ms. Mead was killed. I think he’s just genuinely lost in the world, and acting the way a lonely, scared boy would - he tries to turn to his daddy father. Being rejected even by him, he seeks comfort and companionship wherever he can, which happens to be in the LaVeyan cult. During his cult days, he still seems quite petulant and immature (e.g. his outburst over dinner when he’s getting tired of people asking him what his plan is), and his naïvety shows when he literally lets two drug addicts manipulate him into starting the apocalypse. He’s meant to be the antichrist, impervious to human people’s deceit and above their nature. So that’s where we’re at when the apocalypse starts. Michael is still immature for his... face? He’d most likely be a teenager at this point, and very much acts like it. My main question is - what happens between the end of the world, and Michael’s arrival at Outpost 3? I can’t recall exactly how long it is between these two points (I think it’s at least a year, but no more than 2/3), but Michael seems to have matured immensely. The Michael we’re first faced with in the series is more grown-up; not only is his hair grown out, but he also appears to have had a sexual awakening (I’m referring to that crotch grab, and that wink in the final episode - he’s very much playing on his own sexuality in these moments, not to mention the whole rubber suit ordeal). He still turns to his daddy father for guidance during a moment of uncertainty, when he’s faced with the prospect that a witch might have survived the apocalypse, but he no longer seems quite the desperate kicked puppy he was before the apocalypse. In essence, I just want to know what the hell happened that made him turn into this self-assured, sexy as hell antichrist that has everyone falling to their knees in worship (because, as we already know, he’s a snack). Maybe it’s being in charge of an outpost/the sanctuary? Maybe it’s the absence of people trying to manipulate him, which lets him grow into his own? Whatever it is, I’m sorry we weren’t shown it.

[slusheeduck]

Hope you wanted some Ernesto headcanons

These are extensive because I can’t write a whole fic right now because I’m STILL AGONIZING OVER THE OTHER ONE (and also I still have sick-brain, so let’s see if this stays coherent.) (Also worth mentioning: this is all in context of my fic, so yanno, YMMV)

Ernesto was a very careful child who dreamed about being like the heroes he would read/hear about but was always too scared to actually DO the things he wanted to. 

Sees his chance to be the hero with Héctor--he may only be seven years old, but he’s an easy target for just about anyone, what with being so small and the whole of Santa Cecilia knowing (by way of a very angry tía) how his papá was a worthless travelling musician who left his poor, now-departed mamá to have their child alone. So when he catches a group of kids jeering at him, he starts to step in. But then they start jeering at him, and he crumbles under the pressure. That’s when Héctor surprises him by jumping in and yelling back at them. (”Doesn’t that bother you? When they say mean things right to your face?” Ernesto asks afterward, to which Héctor just shrugs and gives a big, gappy-toothed grin as he replies, “They’re the ones actually looking for me. I think that makes me pretty popular.”)

Even though his attempt to “save” Héctor didn’t work out, Ernesto still decides it’s his duty to take care of the younger boy. Héctor is over the moon that someone as old as Ernesto wants to hang out with him, and they’re practically attached at the hip from that point on. They compliment each other perfectly: Ernesto is the one who has grand ideas for adventures, and Héctor’s the one crazy enough to actually go on them. This gets them into a lot of trouble--they’ve almost died at least three times by the time Héctor’s 12--but the more time Ernesto spends with the other boy, the more confident he becomes. 

Until they get it in their head to be musicians.

Ernesto’s the one to suggest it when he’s thirteen and Héctor’s nine. His mother gives him a beautiful guitar for his birthday, and he’s lousy at playing it. Héctor, on the other hand, can figure out the songs they hear in the plaza without any music. They both learn how to read and write music from the mariachis that come through; Ernesto practices and practices and practices--he keeps sheets and sheets of music with him, learning and relearning them over and over until he memorizes them--but Héctor can make up a tune at literally any moment. (It’s not fair, Ernesto thinks to himself more than once. He’s still a kid, he never practices, but he’s so much better than me. Why can’t I be like that?) As much as he loves his hermanito (because what else could Héctor be after being inseparable for so long?), there’s a little seed of resentment that starts to grow in him.

Ernesto has the awkwardness of hitting puberty early, but he grows into himself fairly young. By the time he’s fifteen, girls are looking at him. He’s not interested, but musicians need to flirt. He starts perfecting his de la Cruz smile and finds that suddenly people like him quite a lot. His confidence goes through the roof.

When Ernesto’s sixteen, he begins an apprenticeship with his father in woodworking. He hates it, but there’s no way for him and Héctor to be discovered in Santa Cecilia. He grudgingly accepts his fate, still dreaming of fame but utterly discouraged. He and Héctor still play together and talk about what they’d do if they were famous, but he doesn’t have the same joy as his friend.

When Héctor’s fifteen, his tía finds the notebook with all his songs and wastes no time in throwing him out. (“So what happened?” Ernesto asks when Héctor climbs into his window.  “Oh, what I was expecting. ‘You’re just like your worthless father, I knew it’d come to this, to think my sister died for an ungrateful cabrón like you.’ It’s nothing she hasn’t said before, but this time I don’t have a bed. Can I stay with you for a couple days?”)  

Enough’s enough, Ernesto decides. They’re young, there’s still plenty of time for them to become the famous musicians they dreamed of being. It’s time for them to grab their future seize their moment. After a lot of fighting and being more or less disowned, he leaves the family business, and he and Héctor scrounge up enough money to buy the tiniest shack in Santa Cecilia.   (“You really think we can survive on our own?” Héctor asks the first night they spend in their Casita de la Música. “I can’t even cook rice.” “Of course we can.” Ernesto leans over to muss up Héctor’s hair exactly the way he hates. “Haven’t you heard everyone in town? ‘Ay, Dios, Ernesto y Héctor! There’s never been two more unstoppable boys!” “I think they say ‘insufferable,’ amigo.” “Well, either way, they’re not getting rid of us so easily.”)

The first year they live together is a dream. They’re hungry and their clothes are badly patched, but they’ve never been happier. Ernesto uses the little bit of woodworking he remembers to salvage a broken guitar. He gives it to Héctor, and from that point on, there’s music at all hours from the two of them, whether they’re in the plaza or in their shack. They start actually performing, playing off of each other and dancing with their guitars and flirting with the girls who are in the plaza. And they start getting noticed.

Things get a little sour for Ernesto, though, when Héctor turns sixteen. Overnight, it seems, he shoots up a whole foot, and it’s hard to be the big, protective figure when the little chamaco is now a solid two inches taller than him. 

Worse than that, though, is that--around the time of his growth spurt--Héctor becomes a romantic. While three months ago he’d been just as disinterested in the girls that flocked to them as Ernesto was, now he has a new “soulmate” every week. He tries to woo each one with a song; it’s not always successful, and more than once he gets into scuffles with the fathers, brothers, and suitors of this week’s object of affection. It’s an unnecessary distraction from their important work. (A few times, though, Ernesto can see that it works--even with his gangly limbs and still-cracking voice, Héctor is charming with his wide grins and beautiful playing, and he catches a few girls looking at him and quietly swooning to the songs written for them. In those cases, Ernesto has to take things into his own hands to keep Héctor from straying too far. With Sofia, a wink and smile from himself dashes away all thoughts of Héctor--If she’s really so fickle as that, she doesn’t deserve him anyhow.   With Carmen, he may have mentioned in passing that she had so many admirers, and did she ever see the way the herrero’s son looked at her? And then ah! Qué pena! The herrero’s son proposed to her not long after, effectively pulling her out of Héctor’s range.   Luciana’s a little harder. She actively flirts back with Héctor, giggling and coyly glancing at him from behind her fan. He catches the two of them talking a few times, both mooning over the other one. At home, Héctor dreamily talks about running away with her, and that’s when Ernesto decides that things need to come to an end.  Word travels fast in Santa Cecilia, and somehow it gets out that Luciana Sanchez was planning to elope with that Rivera boy. So during their daily performance, Señor Sanchez personally comes out to the plaza and gives   Héctor a black eye before announcing that his daughter would NEVER marry some musician’s bastard son. Luciana, whether due to pressure from her family or her own feelings, is horrified that Héctor would think that she’d elope with him. She leaves soon after to Oaxaca, apparently to marry some wealthy farmer.)  While Ernesto hated to see his hermanito wounded--emotionally and physically--it quelled Héctor’s passions. Now he could focus on the music and, more importantly, not leave. At times, Ernesto is painfully aware that he’s being selfish. But his career depends on Héctor. Sure, he can sing, and he can play the classic songs he’d been practicing since he was a boy, but Héctor makes the most beautiful new songs. Those songs are what make people listen to them. Without that, he has no chance at becoming a star. But it’s more than that. Héctor, he knows, is a gift--performing with him is one of the most joyous things imaginable, and his never-ending optimism keeps Ernesto focused on their future. He should want to share that with other people, but he doesn’t. It’s always been Ernesto y Héctor. He rarely says it, but he adores him. The very idea of losing him is terrifying; after so long together, he’d be tossed into some dark unknown if Héctor wasn’t at his side. (”I’d move heaven and earth for you, you know,” he says one night after too many drinks at the cantina they’d played at. Héctor snorts as he slumps against his shoulder, shaggy hair tickling Ernesto’s cheek. “I know you’re the strong one, but let’s not push it, amigo,” he says, voice frustratingly light compared to how serious Ernesto is. “I mean it.” It’s the only way he can think of to convey how he feels for the boy--the man, now--beside him. He rests a hand on Héctor’s head, for once not mussing his hair. He stays put for a moment, then asks quietly, “Wouldn’t it be great if it were just the two of us forever? Just Ernesto y Héctor and no one else.” “Mm. It’d get lonely, hermano. Neither of us wants that,” Héctor mumbles, pressing his face against Ernesto’s shoulder before going limp and breathing softly. He never could hold his alcohol. He’s wrong, but there’s no way for Ernesto to tell him that. So he doesn’t.)  

He thinks Imelda is a safe focus for Héctor. He’s still irritated that his amigo can’t focus on their careers, especially when things are finally picking up for them. But Imelda clearly doesn’t want anything to do with him; he’d get discouraged soon enough, and then it’d be off to a life of fame and fortune, and Héctor could flirt with any girl he liked--they’d be too busy for him to spend too long with any of them, but he’d still be romantic enough to write those love songs that the crowds loved so much.

He panics when Héctor shows him the ring, that’s why he calls Imelda a cabrona. He panics even more when Héctor starts to fight him--he’s not a fighter, he never has been, and he’s terrified of getting hurt. But more than that, he’s hurt that Héctor--Héctor, who’d been by his side for over half their lives now--would turn on him like this for some woman.  (He’s not sure if punching Héctor’s mouth was an accident or not, but he’s sick when he realizes he’s ruined Héctor’s wonderful smile, and sicker still when he finds himself thinking, Now she won’t love him anymore. He has to stay.)

Eventually, it’s clear that it’s gone from Ernesto y Héctor to Imelda y Héctor. Ernesto wants to cut things off, to save himself the anger and frustration of hearing about how wonderful Imelda is and how beautiful Coco is and she really ought to meet her Tío Ernesto. Héctor wants to give up on their dream--he doesn’t say it, but it’s still loud and clear. He makes beautiful songs he doesn’t want to share. He stays in and writes letters instead of schmoozing and making connections. He’s not at all the Héctor he’d been a year ago--that one is dead, as far as Ernesto’s concerned. Maybe that’s why he tries to steal the songbook. It’s self-sabotage, he knows--but they’ll fight and it’ll be easier for them both to close the book on their friendship. (That’s what he tells himself later, to make himself seem like the selfless hero. In the moment, he wants to learn the music to “Remember Me”. He’s a half-second from ripping the page out to memorize it when Héctor comes back into the room.)

He’s not entirely sure where the poisoning plan comes from. It wasn’t as spur of the moment as he told himself it was later. Maybe it was to take revenge on Héctor for leaving him for Imelda. Maybe it was to ensure that he was the one that ended things between them. Maybe it really was just to get that songbook. What he did know was that poison was the coward’s way out; there’d be no way for Héctor to fight back, and that’s how he wants it to be. An easy, painless way to end things between them. There really wasn’t an alternative; he couldn’t seize his moment if Héctor kept getting swayed by family, and he couldn’t become the star he wanted to be if he didn’t have Héctor’s music. There wouldn’t be any fighting, just his success. (It’s not as easy or painless as Ernesto thinks it’ll be. He imagined Héctor would look like he was sleeping; he’s not prepared for empty brown eyes and twisted gangly limbs. He tells himself later that he was cool and composed as he dug a shallow grave and threw Héctor in, because he was doing what had to be done to succeed. He ends up believing most of the lies he tells himself, but that one never sticks. On his worst nights, both in the Land of the Living and the Land of the Dead, he remembers with absolute clarity the way he mussed Héctor’s hair and hysterically made a few jokes as he dug the grave, as if Héctor were tricking him like he always had. But he wasn’t, not this time.)

Ernesto is never quite the same after that. Because now, there’s no “Ernesto y Héctor”. It’s just Ernesto de la Cruz, Mexico’s most famous musician. Because with Héctor, he could never truly seize his moment. With Héctor, he realized now, he was still that cowardly little boy who couldn’t even defend a seven-year-old. He was still the teenager who could never be as good as the little chamaco that hung around him. Now, he was free from all of that. So, no matter how he’d felt about Héctor before, there was just resentment now. He had been just another barrier to Ernesto’s quest for fame. Now Ernesto could be the hero he had always wanted to be. Now, he knew, he was better off with Héctor dead.  (Funnily enough, that lie never stuck, either.)

[rebellingstagnationblog]

“Little Drummer Boy” by Josh Groban (Day 26 of 31)

For @viridianrebooted ( @viridianvenus ) because I couldn’t resist writing more young Gosalyn and Drake. 

On a scale of Christmas in the hospital to literally any other Christmas with Gosalyn, this one ranked just above the hospital year.

Because he’d had to spend Christmas. In a hospital.

-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Drake flopped onto his side with a snarl, grabbed his thin hospital sheet, and tugged the material over his shoulder.

Or he would have if his wrist wasn’t broken. And his head wasn’t killing him. And if his back wasn’t spasming.

But he did manage to pull the sheet over his chest. It didn’t quite reach to where he liked it to rest under his beak, but he’d pulled it up. Indignantly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Mallard. I wish we could discharge you, but the fact that your head hasn’t stopped hurting may be a sign of something more serious. It’s only one night of observation—”

“Yeah, on Christmas Eve.”

The doctor smiled in sympathy. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be here, too.”

“It doesn’t,” Drake muttered.

“Well.” The doctor shrugged. “I’ll leave you, then. We need you to rest as much as you can, so I’ll be turning out all the lights in here and I’ll need you to keep the TV off.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Drake groused, glaring up at the doctor. “Just lie here in the dark alone on Christmas Eve?”

“Our nurses are down the hall and will check on you every few hours to make sure you’re all right.”

Drake crossed his good arm over his chest and glared straight ahead.

“If you need anything, push the call button on your bed. Try to rest, Mr. Mallard. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, the doctor left, softly shutting the door behind him after shutting the lights off.

Drake continued to stare ahead at the blank wall with one framed photo of a seaside mounted in the exact center. Not that he could see the seaside now with all the lights off, but he could make out the dark outline of the frame and he knew it was there. Taunting him. Like it somehow knew water that had been Drake’s downfall.

Not a villain.

Not some selfless act of heroism.

Just an accident where Drake had slipped on ice, broken his wrist, threw out his back, and smacked his head so hard on the pavement that the doctor wanted to keep him in the hospital overnight.

Of all the ways to go.

And now he wouldn’t even be home for Christmas. Gosalyn and Launchpad would have to celebrate without him. Not that Gos would have many gifts to open. That’s where Drake had been, finishing up his shopping. Christmas had snuck up on him this year; between fighting off all the villains over the past few weeks and decorating for the holiday and working with S.H.U.S.H. on some new crime fighting tactics, he’d just run out of time.

Cue rushing around on Christmas Eve, slipping on a patch of ice outside the mall and falling backwards. He’d thrown out his hand to break his fall and was aware of a sharp pain in that wrist as he’d made contact with the ground before blacking out.

Christmas was stupid.

He hated it. There was no point to it. All it brought on was stress and worry and a crazy amount of pressure to out-do yourself from last year.

The last reason might just be a Drake thing, though. He’d always been competitive, especially with himself.

A soft knock on his door made Drake tear his eyes off the shadow of the painting and look at the intruder.

It was Launchpad, smiling and looking sheepish as he ducked into the room. “Visitin’ hours are almost over, but I wanted to see ya all the same. How ya feelin’?” He glanced back down the hall then closed the door behind him.

“Peachy,” Drake grumbled, burrowing down further under his sheet. “I get to stay here for Christmas.”

“They told me,” Launchpad said, his voice gentle. Sympathetic. “Sorry, DW.”

Drake closed his eyes, not wanting Launchpad’s sympathy. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his daughter and forget this whole thing ever happened.

Speaking of….

“You’d better get home, LP. Bad enough I’m stuck here and can’t be with Gos. I don’t want her to be alone on Christmas Eve.”

“Well, that’s the thing….” Launchpad said, his dark outline shifting side to side at the foot of Drake’s bed.

Drake was immediately on high alert, sitting up and ignoring the twinge in his back. “What did she do?” Drake asked, already running through the possibilities and how he’d be able to break out of the hospital to get to her.

“I resent that!” came an all too familiar voice. A small head popped up at the foot of the bed next to Launchpad. “Who says I’ve done anything?”

“Gosalyn Mallard!” Drake scowled, but just seeing her — well, the general shape of her — already soothed his frayed nerves. “What are you doing here, young lady?”

“Gee, it’s almost like my Dad’s in the hospital or something,” she said, tone laced with sarcasm.

“Why’d you sneak in?” Drake pressed, highly suspicious. When it came to Gosalyn, it was always safe to question everything. “Why not come in with Launchpad like normal?”

“Because if the nurses don’t know I’m here, they can’t ask me to leave,” Gosalyn said, sounding entirely too smug for her own good.

“They… what?” Drake asked. attributing his inability to grasp the concept to his possible brain injury.

“Like I’m gonna let you stay here alone. It’s Christmas Eve, Dad.”

“Which is why you should go home with Launchpad. You can at least have Christmas morning at home—”

“Without you?” Gosalyn asked, her head shaking side to side. “No way.”

Drake sighed and glanced at Launchpad. “LP?”

“I only signed myself in on the visitor’s log. I’ll be back in the morning to take you both home.” Launchpad moved to the door, saying, “Merry Christmas, DW.” Not waiting for Drake to protest, Launchpad left, closing the door behind him.

Gosalyn walked around the bed, coming to stand by Drake. He could just make out her large green eyes from the lights emitting from the heart monitor.

“Did you put him up to this?” Drake asked, something in him wanting to fight even though having Gosalyn with him for the night was already making him feel better.

“He didn’t fight me much,” Gosalyn said, eyes tracking over him. “Are you in pain?”

“Nah. The doctor just wants to keep me here for observation.”

“That doesn’t sound good, Dad.”

“I’m fine, Gos.” Drake shifted, ignoring how his back protested. “Go home with Launchpad. There’ll be nothing for you to do; I can’t even have the TV on.”

“But you’re here,” Gosalyn said. “Can I lay next to you or will it hurt too much?”

“Gosalyn—”

“Dad. I’m not leaving.”

Drake glared at her in the dark. He saw her cross her arms and that just wasn’t fair, one of his arms was in a cast.

“You won’t hurt me,” he finally said, his need to have her close winning over his want to do what was best for her.

As Gosalyn climbed up onto his bed, he said, “The nurse is supposed to check on me every few hours.”

“I’ll duck under the bed or something,” Gosalyn said, settling next to Drake and snuggling into his chest. She hadn’t grown much in the past two years since Drake had adopted her, so she fit perfectly as his side. Selfishly, Drake wished she’d stay this size forever, but he knew she was due for a growth spurt soon.

“Not much of a Christmas Eve,” Drake said, carefully shifting onto his side and wrapping his good arm around her. “Waking up and hiding every few hours.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad,” Gosalyn said, tugging the sheet up over her. “Besides, we’ll go home tomorrow, right? Then we can celebrate Christmas.”

Drake sighed. “It’s gonna be a rough Christmas across the board, kiddo. I wasn’t able to get you much—”

“Dad,” Gosalyn said, lifting her head to look at him. “I don’t care. I just want you. Now stop talking and rest. Wake me up when the nurse comes in.” She curled into him, one of her hands gripping his hospital gown.

Drake tightened his hold on her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before burying his face in her hair.

As always, Gosalyn had made Drake question which of them was the parent. Because what did it matter that he didn’t have gifts? They had one another. And that’s what mattered.

He didn’t have the heart to wake Gosalyn when the nurse came in. He prepared himself for a fight because now that he had her, there was no way Drake was letting Gosalyn go, but the nurse just smiled. She said she had kids of her own and gave him a wink before assuring him that no one would ask Gosalyn to leave.

After knowing his daughter was safe, Drake managed to get a few hours of sleep himself, wrapped protectively around his daughter.

-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-

So, yeah.

This Christmas was better than that one. But not by much.

Drake would never get used to Negaduck being in his home.

But it could’ve gone worse, he supposed.

Which he would take with him to his grave because if Gosalyn knew he hadn’t been completely miserable the entire time, she’d never let him live it down.

[kimmysfandomblog]

Ohh, 6, 9, 11, 19 and 25. For all the games, but if it's too hard to pick, you can have one by game :p

Thank you, Serahne!!! ^ v ^

From here: https://kimmysfandomblog.tumblr.com/post/170470327942/lafumiko-hi-people-i-was-searching-for-a-good

Spoilers for V3, so these are under the cut!

6. Favorite plot twist?

DR1: Gosh, it’s a tie between Sayaka being the one killed and even planning to kill to escape the game and Naegi escaping execution!!! Bot of them realy threw me for a loop! I will say that discovering Sayaka was murdered left the greater impact, though, and was the reason I stuck to Danganronpa early on. It blew my mind at the time!

DR2: Hajime being Izuru/the “mastermind” was the most shocking thing to me! I really wasn’t expecting that??? I really came to love Hajime a lot by this point, and was feeling incredibly sorry for him already. When we were exploring the school for the last trial’s investigation and the Hope Cultivation Plan came up, I kinda figured it out. I don’t think I connected the dots completely though, ahaha. Also, just the fact that all of them were evil and responsible for spreading Despair worldwide was such a great plot twist, in my opinion!

DRAE: There weren’t many plot twists in this game, but I guess the most shocking was that Monaca was not an invalid. Like, she was pretty obviously the one running the show, and she was obsessed with Junko, but her faking being handicapped to control both her family and friends for sympathy and to get what she wanted was a genius plan on her part!

V3: I honestly didn’t like them all that much, especially Kaede not being the protag. The ending one where Tsumugi reveals everything is a lie (literally) wasn’t bad or good in my opinion. Like, I wasn’t necessarily disappointed by the ending like I thought I would be (that one was spoiled even before the game released in Japan because I couldn’t blacklist on PC and thought going through Hajime’s tag would be okay :( Damn you, dataminers!!!), I kinda just accepted that this was it. Also the trio being alive was not an exciting plot twist in the least (I love you Himiko and Maki, but your survival kinda makes me go ehhh with how the game ended). I guess that only leaves Kaito being ill and dying before his execution killed him as my favorite! I really liked how that last execution (not counting Danganronpa’s execution) was the reverse of the very first execution we see (Jin Kirigiri’s), and I already loved Kaito. It was nice that Kaito’s final goodbye was a middle finger to Danganronpa’s theme of killing the blackened with an over-the-top execution!

9. Favorite Ultimate Talent?

These are all very tough decisions…

DR1: Ultimate Biker Gang Leader! I honestly would never expect such a talent to exist, and I gotta wonder how HPA was able to gather data for that talent, hahaha. It helps that I found Mondo endearing even if he swears a bit and reacts with violence. He hast a golden heart full of regrets, and I liked his backstory! Also the talent itself is just… really cool.

DR2: Ok, so this is kinda weird, but Ultimate Lucky Student. Makoto was a totally different kind of Ultimate Lucky Student than Komaeda’s, where all-in-all he is an average guy and his luck only affects him sometimes. While that is an interesting talent, it’s not as interesting as Komaeda’s. Komaeda is probably the truest definition of Ultimate Luckster! His luck is tragic. It takes away any personal relationships and turns it into materialistic fortune. It is so powerful it warped Komaeda and his view of the world drastically. Gosh, it is very interesting and gets me wondering what could possibly happen around Komaeda because of his luck in different situations and with different people. Truly, a fascinating talent that I wouldn’t bestow on anyone!

DRAE: There were only a few people with an Ultimate Talent here, haha. I liked that Kotoko was the Ultimate Li’l Drama who actually will not perform for anyone (understandably) and the Fighter of the Group! If that counts, haha. Otherwise we only have Byakuya, Fukawa/Syo, Makoto, and Komaeda (and technically Izuru but he is on the screen for, like, 5 seconds and has every talent, so that would be boring anyways). If I had to choose between the four talents without Komaeda repeated, I think the most interesting would be Syo’s Ultimate Murderous Fiend! It’s really interesting to me that she’s a split personality of Toko. I kinda have to wonder how Toko can get exhausted easily, but Syo can slash and dash, even hurling herself several feet in the air, without breaking a sweat!

V3: It is a tie between Ultimate Anthropolgist and Ultimate Mage Magician! Unlike with the previous installments of the series, I was able to just see the talents before knowing the characters, though, so Ultimate Magician was the one that really caught my eye since I’m obsessed with Fantasy AUs, especially of the RPG kind with that class system! I’ve also always been really fasinated by Magic and magicians in general, haha. After playing the game, though, Kiyo really sold me on the Ultimate Anthropologist talent! I was a Cognitive Science major in the school within the university that focuses on the humanities, so not only am I very interested in human cognitive thinking as individuals and as a group, but I took a lot of history and some anthropology courses. I really nerded out with Kiyo and Shuichi during those FTEs! History/Folklore is truly fascinating! 

11. A character you’d revive?

Alright, this is a tough one for some of these because most of the ones I liked who died died “well,” as in their story was finished and satisfying. I’d surely love to see them alive again, true, but if we are going by canon and I could only bring back one, then it almost feels cheap. Kinda like “DR3 cheap.” That makes most of these characters not my favorites, but ones i felt deserve a second chance/should have survived.

DR1: Ishimaru. He isn’t my favorite character (I’m honestly gonna place him in the “he’s ok!” range), but he clearly didn’t have any satisfying development. You can’t get FTEs from his Kiyondo form, and he dies having done very little as Kiyondo other then some inconvenience regarding Alter Ego! It would probably be super interesting to see what he would do in later chapters, and if he ever snaps out of it in the chapters after.

DR2 (assuming the DR3 anime never happened): Saionji died for nothing, let’s be real here, lol. She was just barely going to reform herself and become a better person, and then she dies, offscreen, on accident. A friend also helped me realize that we never come across her murder weapon. I think that what would have been the best solution was not having a double murder. Plus, it would make it interesting to see whether she is able to forgive Kuzuryuu at all or not, how that affects the groups trust in each other in later parts of the game (since it is really hard to get close to her since she doesn’t trust people easily), and especially her reaction to being Ultimate Despair, as well as her growth spurt.

DRAE: Chihiro’s dad Taichi. He and Yuta died for shock, but how sad would it be if he was alive and found out his son was killed? And that his son’s legacy, Alter Ego, survived? Man, what a tragedy! It would have been nice to see him tag along with Toko and Komaru to the adult’s base and maybe try to hack into devices, or slowly give upgrades to Komaru making her life a little easier. He could also join Togami and leave Towa City.  He’d be an incredible asset to Future Foundation, but he would either refuse out of grief, or he’d take time to warm up to the idea, before accepting and becoming the head of any project regarding the Neo World Program/Alter Ego Chihiro, working closely with Miaya, and keeping close to those who had been Chihiro’s friends.

V3: hmmmm, this one I don’t know for sure. It’s between Hoshi, Miu, Kiibo, and… this may surprise you, but Angie as well.

*** Angie Negativity, you can skip it ***

I hate Angie, but she honestly needs the story development. She got the most abrupt ending, another offscreen death, and no resolution. Honestly speaking, if she had a better story and some form of redemption/questioning of her actions, I would like her a lot more. She just never learned that what she did was wrong, and unlike in her FTEs, telling her “no” made her stick more to her own opinion. Like, initially I didn’t like Celeste in CH3, but I actually grew to like her because she had that backstory that made her want to be more than she was, and she anyways accepted her death in the end without being spiteful and ruining the secret of Alter Ego, even giving the others a hint of where she kept him. She was leagues a better character than Angie. Angie, I was starting to kinda accept her after finishing her FTEs when I was still in CH2 (even if I hate the racial stereotypes, what with orgies, sacrifices, etc). She really made me mad when she refused to listen to anyone else and manipulated others to agree with her (I have an extremely soft spot for Himiko and Gonta, so my bias didn’t help her at all). I’ll give her that she’s really sly and a lot smarter than she tries to let on, but  her cutesy personality combined with manipulation to convert to a religion, suggested by light brainwashing using her paintings (and the fact the others were converted overnight), all so that she can get whatever she wants, and then not seeing any kind of downfall: no backlash or consequences because of what she did? It makes me mad. I’m sorry. I hate her and yet, she is one of the people I’d revive, hahaha. Geez, I honestly tried to like her despite my initial feelings I would dislike her, lol.

*** End of Angie Negativity ***

Kiibo dying while the other three survived is something that rubs me the wrong way since he almost never got respect until he was destroying the school, even when he was one of the few character that were actually helpful during the trials. Honestly, if the others survived, which, given the ending, was kinda pointless, then him surviving as well wouldn’t detract from the impact. Seriously, if anyone deserved to survive, it would be him or Maki.

As for Miu, her death felt like a cop out, for some reason. I can’t explain it exactly… I know that her being killed was because they needed her to go after Kokichi, so that they could get him to trick Gonta to kill her, but it feels wrong somehow? Like there was unfinished business? She had the electrohammers, electrobombs, a remote control, and a bug catcher, her more amazing inventions, made after her death. All her upgrades to Kiibo were very useful, but not as amazing. A drone and the camera set up are really simple, too. Her working with Kokichi on these amazing inventions feels like a plothole instead of plausible. It would be really nice to see her survive since, despite being vulgar, she’s really entertaining! And I wonder how she’d react to being told she wasn’t real, nor was she actually a genius inventor.

And I can’t forget Hoshi! He died horribly for no reason. Kirumi could have bashed him in the head with a tennis racket, or against the wall or something, after she knocked him out. There was no need to pin the blame on anyone. The second trial p*ssed me off so much because it was unnecessarily convoluted and cruel for no reason and anyways made no sense. My heart truly goes out for Hoshi. He had a horrible life! He was imprisoned for killing the Mafiai, was a true hero, and I wish he could have learned that he could find something to live for.

So yeah, V3 was the hardest for me this question, hahaha. I honestly can’t choose between these four. BIG SIGH

If this was bot the answer you were hoping for and you just wanted to get a list of my faves who dued, it would go like this: Sakura, Komaeda, Taichi, and Kaito! Priority goes to Sakura since Ko lives post-canon, hahaha

19. Favorite Free Time Events

DR1: Alright, honestly I need to actually play this game myself. I’ve only seen LPs of the game, and the anime does not have FTEs. The only FTEs I recall are Sayaka’s, Chihiro’s, Ishimaru’s, Kyoko’s, Sakura’s, and Asahina’s. I don’t think I can really say which is my favorite, but I really like Sakura’s and Kyoko’s. I just… can’t remember most of their backstories ^^

DR2: DR2 had too many good FTEs. Komaeda’s are probably the ones I liked the most, though? I didn’t care much for Komaeda initially. He was an interesting character, and I didn’t hate him (I was very neutral). I felt like there was more to him, so when I played the game myself after abandoning the LP I was watching, I went after him first and it changed my mind completely! I like it when a character’s background is explained and matches consequences and actions the character makes during the main story, and DR2 did this really well for my taste. Komaeda’s helped explain everything and made him a sympathetic character and helped me to understand him. Of course, it also sparked the Koma/Hina shipping, hahaha. If I had to come up with a runner up, it would be Souda’s for a similar reason! His also ties really well to the main story, especially with not being able to finish his FTEs until like after CH4, after he is done doubting Hajime.

V3: I’m stuck between Kiyo and Maki’s. Kiyo’s had more of an impact on me, though, because it flipped my initial suspicion I would hate him. Him being fascinated with anthropology and teaching Shuichi about it made me seriously love him as a character even though I was sure at the time I would hate him since I was spoiled about the incest plot twist. Maki’s was really well explained and tied nicely to the game’s story. She is kinda like Komaeda, in a way, hahaha. She had a tragic backstory because of her talent, been through hell, lost someone very precious to her, and her talent makes her actively try to avoid people and trust them. And, like I said before, I like FTEs that help explain why a character reacts the way they do (although in her case, a small part of her FTEs do land up in the main story, so I say they were slightly less effective, but tied better to the story)

DRAE doesn’t have FTEs, but there are explained backstories of the kids, and I loved Nagisa. His was the most relatable, with all of that pressure to succeed, never feeling good enough.

25. Saddest Death

DR1: 100% Sakura’s!!! She’s a real gem of a character, and I wish Danganronpa had more female characters that were like her! Anyways, she was so interesting, and not just for how she looks or her talent, but that she was the traitor torn by family duty and her loyalty to her friends. She thought that the best way to end this killing game was by sacrificing herself so that the group would not be split. She was so selfless and loved so much, yet she was treated horribly in her last hours because Monokuma made sure to make her as disliked as possible. And then he spits on her death further by stealing her last letter and will so he could use Hina to make the trial more interesting. My heart goes out to her more than anyone in DR1.

DR2: My gut instinct was to say “Komaeda” or “Nanami”, but truth be told, CH2 wrecked me! Peko’s execution really got to me because, firstly, I never suspected her, and secondly, her backstory with Fuyuhiko and the fact she killed and died to save him made the execution 10 times worse to endure! I hadn’t seen her FTE’s all the way through the first time, but I saw most of them and while she hadn’t been a favorite, she had a cute personality! I really did like her!. What made her death worse was Fuyuhiko’s reaction and him trying to intervene. I’m getting shills remembering it ^^;

DRAE: Most probably Taichi! Though it is hard to choose between him and Yuta, Taichi’s was the one that was most tragic, because up to his dying breath he was so excited to be able to have the chance to meet his son again. I mean, even if he did survive, his son would still be dead, but somehow it just felt worse than Yuta’s since we seemed to get to know Taichi better (he worked at Towa for the company, we talked to him more and his love for his son).

V3: Another hard one, and it is between Kaede, Hoshi, and Gonta… I feel like none of these three should have died, or at least for Gonta and Hoshi, not the way that they did. Gonta’s was the one I felt the most emotional over leading up to his death because of the present feeling of how Kokichi betrayed him and the feeling of how it wasn’t even his fault, really. Kaede’s I felt the angriest at because she was 100 times a better protag than Shuichi and I loved her. It doesn’t help that her death was especially tragic and her execution was gruesome (not that Gonta’s wasn’t gruesome, but it was too weird for me to feel much). Hoshi’s I felt the saddest over during the trial because of just how not-fair this was. I don’t even hate Kirumi, I really hate the writers for the trial because of all the pointless and illogical parts of the case and how Hoshi was murdered, but I ranted enough about it.