#honestly his legs are a bit long but he's the second tallest character in the whole series what else what i supposed to do

[aridemon]

The entire cast of Strive, drawn from memory

[bloody-oath]

What would go down at a slasher slumber party (slashers of your choosing, though selfishly hope you'll include Bubba, of course)? I'm thinkin' either a collage-age frat party, or else a childhood or awkward adolescent sleepover at somebody's house, lol. ^_^

I’ll do all three types! It would be a sin to leave Bubba out… When in doubt though, stick to the main four!

**Mild self-harm and animal abuse mentions (Stage 2: Freddy – 3, Stage 3: Jason – 3)**

Stage 1: Childhood Slumber Party

Jason Voorhees

⋆ Has been at the party for 0.5 seconds and already misses his mother. If he can speak, he accidentally calls the host’s parent ‘mum.’ Didn’t even notice it until Freddy felt it was his duty to almost piss his pants laughing over it and made sure everyone else in the room heard it too.

⋆ Enjoys playing with Bubba the most. Shares his snacks with the Texan boy and makes an E for effort macaroni-and-string best friends bracelet. He was somewhat disappointed when Bubba ate his friendship offering though. Demotes his companion to ‘very good friend’ status.

⋆ Brought teddy along but only takes him out when the lights are turned off at bedtime, so no one notices. Sleeps soundly, but he’s devasted when he wakes up to find his pal’s fur shredded. Doesn’t hesitate to wail on a suddenly disturbed, half-awake, arms-flailing Frederick, all the while Michael pretends to rest with the tiniest visibility of a smirk present and a stolen vegetable knife under his pillow.

Michael Myers

⋆ Possesses the biggest urge to peek into the rooms he’s not allowed into, such as the off-bounds adult bedroom. Will randomly disappear during mid-playtime and sneak in anyway though. Doesn’t steal anything, just removes family photos from frames and rips them in half.

⋆ Likes to play dress up. Doesn’t pretend to be a character or act differently. Simply enjoys disguising his identity. Will stay in the costume until it’s time to go home. Might go home with it too though. Chooses not to interact with the others much. Silently judges them. Thinks Freddy is a bit of a twat.

⋆ Pays close attention when the twat starts sharing ghost stories though. Loves them, not frightened. Plans to scare everyone when it’s time for bed. Does so and makes a scared shitless Bubba cry. Didn’t expect such an exaggerated consequence but enjoys seeing him suffer. Has good dreams that night.

Freddy Krueger

⋆ He didn’t bring a toy to the party, but like hell he’ll be leaving without one. Keeps an eye out for anything good enough to permanently borrow. Stuffs his pockets with sweets to take home since junk food is forbidden at his house.

⋆ Cheats at every game he participates in. Asks everyone to tell him a secret about themselves but no one trusts him. Experiences a serious sugar high and becomes wildly fidgety. Challenges Bubba to a wrestling match and begins to lose until he plays dirty and bites his opponent. Whines when he gets sat on for his dismal sportsmanship.

⋆ Was outside and somehow managed to catch a rat with his bare hands. Breaks the critter’s neck and brings the dead rodent inside to show his buddies what he accomplished. Everyone reacts badly, except Michael who nonchalantly claps, impressed.

Bubba Sawyer

⋆ Takes him a while to feel comfortable around the others. Has a particular liking for Jason and asks the quiet boy if he’d like to play Tick-Tack-Tooth. Isn’t sure about Michael and watches him from a distance. Has already had enough of Freddy and covertly hopes he has a hazardous mishap and needs to be sent home.

⋆ Relishes having a break from his annoying brothers. Gains a huge stomach-ache from wolfing down on too many lollies. Spends the next hour groaning on his back with much regret. Pouts at the menace for suggesting the others should tie him up and suspend him in the air as a makeshift piñata. Goes back to munching on confectionary as soon as he begins to feel better. Might learn his lesson after the fourth time.

⋆ Excels in the arts and crafts fun. Creates masks for everyone to wear. Can’t wait to show his family what he’s made all by himself. Especially adores using the face paint. Clumsily knocks over a pot of dye and damages the carpet. Freaks the fuck out because he knows what happens if he ruins anything at home. Squints, trembles and braces himself for the belting. Everyone else just stares.

Stage 2: Awkward Adolescent Sleepover

Jason Voorhees

⋆ Still misses his mother and feels even less confident to socialise. Was the tallest as a kid and still is. Feels marginally proud to retain that achievement. Didn’t want to run into Freddy again but he’s glad he can at least hang out with Bubba. Wondered who was behind the white mask and later realised it was ‘that kid’ he knew from childhood. Forgot Michael’s name.

⋆ Brought some homemade cookies he and Pamela baked together and could honestly smack a shrimp bitch when Freddy disposes of them in the bin. Coolly composes himself. Kind of wants to exhibit his amateur muscles and use his superior strength on the asshole though. Shows Bubba he’s been building up and behaves timidly when his old chum praises him for his efforts.

⋆ Glad no one tried to sneak in any intoxicating beverages or street medicine. Wonders if he’s being too optimistic but genuinely sees his allies having bright futures. Moderately worried about that Michael boy though. Spends the rest of the evening following everyone else’s lead. Got a headache after listening to Freddy talk so much shit and can’t sleep with Bubba snoring like a freight train.

Michael Myers

⋆ Hates being dragged along to another wretched sleepover. Noticed Freddy grew about an inch taller. Throws shade the entire time. Tries to escape the premises but changes his mind when he hears a scary movie being played in the video player. Thoroughly enjoys watching the violent scenes and mentally takes a few notes.

⋆ Teaches the squad how to make a rope noose. Encourages everyone to put it around their necks to make sure they fit. Isn’t being suspicious at all. Brought his knife collection to the gathering and flaunts his favourite daggers. Points out which blades he’s specifically going to use to slaughter each one of them. No one takes him seriously.

⋆ Figures this reunion really does suck and makes a second attempt to leg it out. Couldn’t care less about catching up, hearing how their dreary lives have been or chatting about gross women. Literally gives everyone the middle finger salute and departs. Raids a fast food joint on his way home.

Freddy Krueger

⋆ Wants to compare dick sizes with everyone else. Feels humiliated and provoked when he finds out he has the shortest penis. Swears he’ll be the first to lose his virginity though. Goes into great detail about what his sexual desires are and the porn videos he’s seen that influenced the said fetishes.

⋆ His voice begins to break halfway through telling a joke and he goes from talking nonstop to suddenly being speechless. Wonders if tonight is going to get any worse. Exits the room to practice hiding the squeak when he speaks and re-joins the gang with an abnormal, obviously fake Elvis Presley tone.

⋆ Expresses how he has the urge to hurt himself and others, including the innocent. Says the cravings are becoming harder to resist to older he gets. Adds he’s been experiencing powerful fits of anger and battles to control it. No one acts surprised. Casually changes the subject to masturbation.

Bubba Sawyer

⋆ Found a vintage glamour magazine from Grandpa’s hidden stash and brings the subtly raunchy publication to the sleepover to share with the boys. Becomes aroused a little too easy just by examining the front cover and desperately tries to hide his first-ever erection. Confused and scared.

⋆ Gives a sigh of relief when he goes back to being flaccid. Apprehensively thinks of an excuse to say regarding why he took so long in the bathroom when he reappears in the group. Doesn’t have to use it because no one noticed he even left. Avoids partaking in any lewd discussions or naughty centrefold viewing. Fearful of that accident happening again.

⋆ Doesn’t waver to show off his newly grown body hair though. High-key delighted by his pelt. Compares his super hairy arms to Freddy’s non-existent fuzz and breaks into a chuckling fit. Feels a bit hurt when the shorty points out he’s only getting fatter and uglier though. Never deemed himself to have self-confidence issues until now. Appreciated Jason and Michael playing keepings-off with the bully’s stupid hat.

Stage 3: College Frat Party

Jason Voorhees

⋆ Avoids consuming any alcohol because he knows better. Also denies any offered drugs. Straight up shoved a hoe to the ground when they sloppily asked if he wanted to have some dirty fun. Hates how the party has started but tries to enjoy himself. Ends up hanging out with the stray cat who sometimes chills out on the fire escape.

⋆ Acts as a caretaker and monitors his highly intoxicated buddies. Openly judges them. Tries to have his own little celebration by eating the leftover pizza in the fridge and watching prime time infomercials on the telly. Began to loosen up until Freddy willingly broke the flatscreen and went on to say he can provide better entertainment. Not amused in the slightest by witnessing his frenemy lighting his farts on fire.

⋆ Needs an aspirin and exits the room to get some fresh air and visits his feline acquaintance again. Incredibly disturbed when he finds a hammered Bubba trying to stretch the cat’s skinned face over his own. Feels betrayed and just wants this night to end. Wonders what it would be like to taste alcohol though and pours a single drop of it onto his tongue. Immediately spits it out. Knows this wouldn’t have happened if his mother was here. Acts mopey and continues to miss her.

Michael Myers

⋆ Has no interest in alcohol consumption but doesn’t hesitate to inject heroin in his veins from a used needle he found discarded on the ground. Arrives at the festive dormitory and busts down the door. Extremely hyped and aggravated. Uses said broken wood to go surfing down the emergency exit spiral stairwell. Severely wipes out towards the end of the ride.

⋆ Wants to fight everyone he sees and proceeds to do so. Finally appears back at the party with bloodied fists and two syringes poking out of his arms. Becomes confronted by a worried, sober Jason and gets his ass served to a beanbag for calming down purposes. Thought the pouf looked at him funny and foam pellets go flying.

⋆ Passes out in a bathtub full of vomit, not of his own, and wakes up hours later naked on the roof with now seven needles inserted. Can’t decide if he’s still alive or dead. Spends the rest of the night presuming he’s an invisible ghost. Trolls immensely.

Freddy Krueger

⋆ Wants to play beer pong and won’t stop talking about beer pong until at least one person plays beer pong with him. No one does though, so he faces the table against the wall and verses himself. Gets totally wasted and needs to repetitively inform everyone just how drunk he is.

⋆ Fails to hook up with someone and pursues to suck his own cock. Thinks he does a better job at it anyway. Proposes free pony rides to all the chicks attending the party but results in scaring them further away. Bubba excitedly raises his hand though and frantically searches the dorm for his cowboy hat. Speedily withdraws the offer and explains there isn’t a horse involved. Back to drinking.

⋆ Makes the mistake of walking past a body-length mirror and gets a horrifying glimpse of his reflection. Too wasted to realise that’s how he always looks like and starts to freak out. Yells why no one thought to take him to the hospital because maybe the doctors could have saved him. Just sits ugly-crying in front of the mirror with one hand on the glass and a can of beer in the other. Suddenly perks up when someone asks for volunteers to help steal the opposing frat house’s pet pig though.

Bubba Sawyer

⋆ Overwhelmed. Only has a sip of alcohol, then chugs the rest of the bottle dry. Was going to pace himself but ends up driving the porcelain bus an hour into the party. Wants to laugh, cry, shit, spew, scream and dance all at the same time. Succeeds.

⋆ Can’t get enough of the booze but stays clear of the flying pink elephant inducing pills. By far the most trashed and happiest person in the room. Turns the stereo up to its maximum volume and blabbers about how every song it plays is his favourite song. Very footloose. Starts a conga line and happens to be both at the beginning and end of it because no one else joined in.

⋆ Removes his sweaty shirt and uses it to do the helicopter. Hurls it onto a poor, unexpecting person’s head. Pours bottles of liquor over his bare torso and warily squeals when he feels the fluid seep down his pants, into his crack. Goes on to remove the rest of his clothing and embarks streaking through the sprinklers on the front lawn of the college. Has multiple school officers chasing after him.

[pixelatedrose]

Soulbound Character Descriptions

Well you guys responded pretty clearly!! If there's anything you have questions about, just shoot me an ask! Whether it be plot related, character related, or about the world in general! I can't promise to answer all of them seeing as a lot of stuff is going to be answered in the story, but yeah! Hope you enjoy these physical descriptions of the Soulbound cast!!

Deceit: His scales is represented with vitiligo and is the darkest skinned of the bunch. He has very amber eyes that seem almost yellow in some cases and lighting. He has pretty straight dark dark brown hair and he's the shortest of the bunch clocking in at 5"2. He wears a lot of bracelets and tends to wear longer sleeves and coats. He has a nose stud and wears a beanie just about 24/7. He doesn't have a backpack, but rather a satchel cause he's an aesthetic bitch. He has a few pins on his satchel strap, including a very particular two headed snake pin. He does not have any visible soulmarks. (That we know of)

Emile: he looks like Picani. That's it. Done. HOWEVER!! In place of Thomas's normal hairstyle, Emile has short, curly, bleach blond hair that's dyed a pastel pink on the inner layers. He has round glasses and will sometimes be seen walking around with pink tinted heart shaped ones too, however no one has been able to verify that they're actually prescripted and Remy refuses to talk. He has hazel eyes and wears a golden locket at all times of the day. He's Roman's height, coming in at 5"11. Whenever asked, he likes to proudly show off the tattoo of a rabbit in a bubble that has its place on his collarbone.

Logan: He's the tallest of the bunch at 6"0, and he owns it proudly. He has either very dark brown hair or black hair, I haven't really decided yet. He's fairly pale, but not as much as Virgil. He tends to wear neater clothes, looking much akin to canon Logan, minus the tie. He has rectangular glasses and deep blue eyes. He has two visible soulmarks, one on his left wrist that has Patton's name as well as the date and time he met him, and the other being a big galaxy tattoo that stretches over his left shoulder and covers a quarter of his back.

Patton: He has golden blonde curly hair and light blue eyes. He tends to wear big fluffy sweaters during the wintertime and late fall, and t-shirts and blouses during the warmer times of the year. He has a ton of cute freckles pretty much everywhere and he's slightly more tan, though not as much as Roman. He's the second shortest of the lot, at 5"4 and is adorably chubby. He has one visible soulmark on his right wrist with Logan's name and the date and time tattooed there.

Remus: He has brown hair like his brother, but dyed a strip of it silver and black in the front since he got tired of people confusing the two. He has a scraggly mustache and green eyes. His wardrobe is sort of a mystery. He wears anything and everything that catches his eye, from jean jackets to croptops to fishnet tights to thigh-high leather boots to fluffy tinsle skirts. One thing that does however stay consistent is the thick bracelets he wears on both his wrists, completely covering them. He is- of course- Roman's height of 5"11. He has a spattering of freckles on his face and a mole under his right eye. He does not have any visible soulmarks. (That we know of)

Remy: His outfit is basically canon Remy, like Logan's, however he is known to wear croptops and short shorts too. He has brown eyes (not that many people know since he wears his aviator shades ALL THE TIME) and likes to paint his nails from time to time. He has brown hair, like Thomas, but with the change of the occasional blonde streak in it. He too, like Dee, doesn't wear a backpack, opting for a stylish satchel instead. He has pins and buttons absolutely COATING this thing, from reality tv references, to cartoon ones that Emile got him, to like four different pride ones. He has a silver locket he's never seen without as well as a bracelet he never takes off. If you've seen my Soulbound Canons post you know what that's about. He is actually only a little bit taller than Virgil at 5"7 and honestly doesn't seem to mind as long as you don't keep nagging him about it. He very very proudly displays his soulmark of a rabbit in a bubble as often as he can, wearing low cut shirts whenever possible.

Roman: he has wavy brown hair, his eyes are green and his skin tone is tanned. His wardrobe is pretty staic, wearing t-shirts most of the time with his varsity jacket. Though, on semi-rare occasions, he will wear croptops. He has one visible soulmark of a galaxy that stretches over his left shoulder and covers a quarter of his back. He's the second tallest at 5"11 and is proud of it.

Thomas: as a teacher, he tends to wear loose button-up shirts and leaves the sleeves rolled up. In general he wears what he normally wears. He looks like Thomas. Like. It's hard to get more specific than that. He has two visible soulmarks on him, one on his left arm of rose becoming a ball of yarn, and the other on his right arm, right above his elbow, of the words, "My name's Joan."

Virgil: he is the palest of the gang and has a smattering of freckles he's embarrassed about on his nose and cheeks. While he is naturally blond, he doesn't like it and has his hair purple or black 99.9% of the time. He has blue-grey eyes that can be pretty accurately described as what it looks like to be looking through water at the bottom of a rock-and-stone bedded river. He's pretty thin and gangly, but not in an unattractive way. He wears jackets and hoodies 24/7 no matter the weather, and likes to wear long sleeved shirts 78% of the time as well, layering down further in winter by wearing a tanktop under that as well. He wears black, weathered skinny jeans and combat boots. He has no visible soulmarks (that we know of) and is quite ashamed of that. He has scars all up and down his arms and shoulders as well as some on his chest, sides, ankles, legs, and one or two on his hands. He says they're from the cat he's never owned. He wears canon Virgil makeup everyday and on the days he doesn't, he doesn't tend to leave the house.

Sorry for bad formating, I'm on mobile and don't have access to a computer right now. I'll fix it all later and link this to the masterpost (That’s the link!!) as soon as possible. Stay fresh and minty my lovely turtle angels!! 💛

Edit: yes I'm a dork and put them in alphabetical order cause at the time i was really bored okay don't judge me

@anxietea-and-insanitea @just-a-hufflepuff @ambrechandra @sanderssidesweirdo @athenashipsthings @nerd-in-space @badluckkaren @slitherynchiken @icequeenoriginal @hitmewiththatfanart33

Double edit: i...forgot to......tag everything.......whoops

[s-j-ace]

The Same Question

Chapter One

Characters: Shuichi Saihara, Ouma Kokichi

Words: 6738

Summary:

After Detective Shuichi Saihara encounters mysterious thief Kokichi Ouma for the first time, a game of cat and mouse ensues as both men ask themselves the same question. Why exactly does the elusive phantom thief do what he does?

Sequel to the events of That’s the Thing About Airplanes and New Plan!

Read on AO3

 Kokichi Ouma had always found it strange how he could sit in a room full of people yet feel utterly alone in the universe at the same time.

 The thought occurred to him once more as he sat among his crew in a little hole in the wall cafe tucked in the shadows of the city of lights, and it was very much out of character. The scenario Kokichi described to his crew, as they drove away from the Louvre in the beat up looking SUVs they had secretly loaded up with stolen plumbing parts, was that of a birthday party. They were all twenty something Parisians who had gotten out of bed extra early to take their friend out for a birthday surprise. How fun! How quaint! How unsuspicious!

 … but in reality it was just an excuse for Kokichi to try and shake off the weird mood he was in with decadently sugary crepes. He had pitched it to DICE as a sort of celebratory feast of a heist well done, but honestly Kokichi had never felt so bored after stealing something in his whole life.

 For some reason or another he had felt exhilarated on the plane ride in, but as soon as he got to the actual stealing part everything felt all samey and routine again. He even let Queen make off with a painting of some big dumb flowers that he wanted, hoping that it might spice things up, but now it was just lodged under the seat cushions next to a bunch of fancy looking elbow pipes.

 Ugh.

 Now that he really thought about it the painting would probably make escaping Paris even more boring…  News outlets wouldn't run the headline "Pipes and toilets stolen from the Louvre," when they could run the headline "Priceless painting of pretentious looking flowers stolen from the Louvre." It'd make it easier to sell the plumbing because interpol would be keeping their eyes on the fine art black market instead of Craigslist offers for scrap metal.

 Well maybe that was a good thing. Kokichi didn’t want them to get caught selling the pipes, after all. DICE was a bit of a scrappy group from the start and their heists had been decreasing in profitability recently for the expense of spectacle. Bishop told him that their accounts were doing fine and they had enough cash saved up for some frivolous heists, but Kokichi could do math too and thought Bishop’s accounts were slightly suspect.

 They were probably just telling him that to make him feel better. Maybe they had noticed that something was off with him. Maybe they were planning with the rest of DICE to overthrow him as the boss and put someone less stupid and predicable in charge instead.

 No, Bishop couldn’t do that to him. They weren’t a good enough liar. None of them were good enough liars. Kokichi knew them too well. For instance, right now he knew that Bishop and Ace were having a conversation that Rook was waiting to butt in on, Spade and Club were talking about Mario Kart and Spade was acting like she agreed with what Club was saying even though she didn’t, Queen was pretending to be doing some important coding but was definitely on reddit,  King was planning to shove some whipped cream in Rook’s face as soon as he finished his crepe, and Hearts and Jack were leaning in the corner of the four person booth they had all crammed into like a clown car with their legs on top of everyone else’s with Hearts on top of Jack’s lap about to fall asleep while Jack was very noticeably not noticing even though she definitely did notice because Hearts’ boobs were right in her face.

 There was so much lying happening, so much play acting, yet everything added up into an equation that seemed all the more sincere. DICE were genuinely celebrating another successful heist. For them, nothing was wrong.

 That was so bizarre.

 Everything seemed wrong to Kokichi. He felt trapped. He felt like they were all trapped. How could he ever know that his people were genuinely happy when to his knowledge people had to question everything that they found themselves doing. Take, for example, the crepe he had eaten moments ago. He had eaten it in an odd way where he started from the bottom of the crepe’s fold and ate outwards, preserving a perfect ring of outer crepe rind. It didn’t really enhance the taste in any way, seeing as the crepe had a completely even cook, but Kokichi had insisted it did as he ate it regardless because he knew that was in character of the person he had established himself to be. He was the kind of guy who just casually committed food crimes. It’s not that it didn’t still bring him joy to see the faces of his crew scrunch up in disapproval, but it made him wonder if the rest of them realized the same thing about their own behaviors. That they acted a certain way and thought a certain way because of a tacit, invisible social code of who they should be and how they should act towards others, regardless of their own intrinsic motivations.

 It made it hard to tell what lay behind their faces. If they were really happy behind the smiles.

 They had to be happy, right?

 Yeah, if he looked up happy in the dictionary he’d probably see a photograph of King shoving whipped cream in Rook’s ear. Like he was doing right now.

 Everyone was safe and having a good time, and yet Kokichi felt like he was watching it all happen from a far away place.

  Was Rook really angry as they slugged King in the arm or were they just pretending to be angry because they knew that was the part they had to play in the overall scene of this social interaction?

  Kokichi glanced at the other DICE members’ faces. Spades and Clubs were still having their own conversation about a Blue Shell conspiracy theory, but everyone else seemed to be laughing at or pretending not to laugh at King. The thought occurred to Kokichi that he should probably try to match their facial expressions, but upon inspection he found that he was already grinning full force.

 Weird.

 He let the lie lay flat.

 Immediately everyone turned to look at him. That was normal, he was their boss. If he wasn’t happy it meant something was wrong. Except it was also weird. There used to be times when Kokichi was very young where he could be in the middle of a room full of people say anything he wanted at the top of his voice without being heard. He wasn’t the same person on the outside of his head as he was on the inside of his head and he knew that and he used it to his advantage. But would he ever be able to escape it?

 …

 …

  Okay! That was a series wrap on overanalyzing shit and having memories! Time to not think about any of that ever again!

 “I’m bored of crepes.” He whined. “We should go somewhere else.”

 Instantly everyone’s face lit up with excitement. “We should go somewhere else” had become a sort of ritual phrase that now meant “Convince me what our next heist should be.”

 Everyone started talking at once.

 “There’s this casino-”

 “The Taj Mahal! We should do the-”

 “Fort Knox! I wanna-”

 Kokichi raised his hand and the clamoring voices stopped instantly.

 “One at a time, shortest to tallest, and not so loud.” He nodded slightly to the woman sitting on a stool behind the cash register. They probably didn’t have to worry much about her. It appeared that she only understood french when she took their orders earlier and now she seemed to be checking her phone disinterestedly. They had also chosen to sit in the booth furthest from the register so really there was very little chance she would overhear them say something that would get them in trouble, but you could never be too sure.

 “Well, boss. Most esteemed mastermind. You lovely bastard you,” Spades, the shortest of DICE save for Kokichi himself, schmoozed exaggeratedly. Kokichi could tell she didn’t really have an idea but wanted to draw out her turn as long as possible because Clubs had an idea and she was teasing him like an annoying older sister. She was probably going to pull Buckingham Palace. “I have the best idea. The most creative. The most innovative.” Buckingham Palace was so ridiculously easy to get into that there was entirely no point in wasting a trip to Britain on it. There was some drunk guy who just wandered into it and found the Queen’s bedroom. Twice. “It’ll be tough, but with our unique set of skills I think we’ll be able to pull it off.” So when someone didn’t have an idea, to pass they’d say Buckingham Palace. “And it’ll be well worth it. Our names will go down in history.” And then Kokichi would give a funny excuse why they weren’t going. He should probably start thinking of one now while Spades was still blabbering. “The biggest heist of all time.” Hmm… How about… Yeah that was a good one. “Home of her royal majesty herself, Buckingham Palace!”

 Everyone groaned as if this weren’t an entirely predictable twist to Spade’s monologue.

 “Uggh, Spade you know I can’t go back to Buckingham Palace.” Kokichi groaned. “Last time I was there I saw Prince Phillip dressed in a corgi fursuit being tugged around by the queen on a leash. I’m still trying to erase the image from my mind.”

 That got an easy guffaw from Ace and a smattering of giggles from everyone else. Not bad, but he’d come up with funnier before.

       Jack giggled longer than the others. Kokichi knew that meant she was waiting for everyone to quiet down so she could one up him with her own bit.

       He raised an eyebrow. “Something to say, Jack?”

       “Ooh… Well… I was just wondering if that’s the real reason we can’t go back.”

 She paused for a second as if expecting him to “yes, and” her, but he decided to let her fend for herself on this one.

 “I mean. What was it you said to      your     husband on the plane?” Shit. “Didn’t you tell him you wanted him to beg like a dog?” How much of that conversation did she hear? “I don’t know, sounds like Prince Phillip might’ve awakened something in you.”

       “Awwww,” King crooned, “Boss Baby’s first fetish.”

       Kokichi wasn’t really bothered by this implication beyond the fact that, judging from the smattering of snickers, it was getting better laughs than his original comment. He needed to swing this.

       “Puhlease. Who would be into pet play when feral rats are clearly the sexiest creatures on the planet?”

       “Is that why you spend so much time trying to look just like one?”

       “Why Jack, I’m flattered you think I look just like the sexiest creature on the planet, but I’ll have you know I’m married.”

       Hearts was nice enough to take the bit. “To who?”

       “Not that plane detective?” Bishop prodded. Or maybe they said “plain” detective? Maybe it was a pun. Good on you Bishop.

       “No, heavens no. I’m married to Ratatouille himself.” Kokichi’s rather strangely eaten crepe was about to work out pretty well in the grand scheme of japery. He unfurled the remaining ring of crepe edge and put it around his wrist. “Want proof? Here’s the ring. Isn’t it beautiful?”

       “Gorgeous!” Queen enthused. It didn’t seem like he was really paying attention, with his eyes glued to his laptop, but Kokichi appreciated his support nonetheless.

       Jack frowned. “Isn’t the rat from Ratatouille’s name Remmy?”

       “You’re right it’s not Ratatouille, it’s Ratatouille’s monster.” Rook chimed in, definitely quoting a tumblr post.          “No, no, no, I’m not married to the rat, I’m married to the concept of Ratatouille.” He made a romantic gesture. “The one we hold dear in all of our hearts.”

       “Oh, of course, of course.” Ace tried to nod sagely, but the effect was ruined by the big grin on their face. Ace had a hard time not laughing at everything, especially their own jokes.

       Club had been pouting this whole time. With this whole thing about Kokichi being into dogs diffused it was probably time to hear out his suggestion. Kokichi was about to say as much, but before the mirth died down long enough to change the subject, Queen interjected.

       “Uh, boss.” He said, turning around the laptop he had been fiddling with the whole time. “Speaking of rats… There’s one on the news making himself a loose end...”

       On the screen was a distressed looking headline in french accompanied by a picture of the detective himself, Shuichi Saihara.

       Kokichi’s heart leapt.

       Then he noticed that it leapt.

       And that his hand had begun moving to fiddle with the bandage on his finger.

             He stopped himself just in time.

         ---

       Shuichi Saihara had always found it strange how quickly his body could turn on him.

       He had been fine, on the plane untangling his seat belt while alarmed chattering spread like wild-fire throughout the plane.

       He had been fine, explaining to a frazzled flight attendant and captain that no he was not in fact married to the gentleman who jumped out of the plane, who was, as it turns out, an internationally wanted thief.

       He had been fine, making the call to 112 and explaining to the respondent that yes he knew all the police cars were busy with a high profile break-in and that the incident he was reporting was, in fact, related to said break-in.

       And yet, when he sat down, alone on a bench in front of the Paris-Charles De Gaulle airport surrounded by the crisp night air the thought crossed his mind that DICE had robbed the Louvre by now. That they had gotten away, and it was all his fault. All his fault.

       And then Shuichi pulled out his phone and dialled the number of his very good friend Kaito Momota because he was having a panic attack.

       *Beeeeeep….*

       Shuichi knew he was having a panic attack because it felt like the world was ending for no good reason.

 *Beeeeeep….*

       His breathing got shorter. An immense pressure built up behind his eyes, trying to force tears to leak out from underneath them. His hands locked in a vice grip around his phone.

       *Beeeeeep….*

       Three words repeated in his head over and over again like a broken record.      All your fault. All your fault. All your fault.  

             *Beeeeeep….*

       If Shuichi had any presence of mind right now, it might occur to him that there was, in fact, a reason behind this panic attack. That he’d been privy to and partially responsible for so many high stakes cases in his career that the idea of failure made his imagination sick with all the horrifying outcomes his mistakes could cause, including the ones that had actually come to pass. A man looking at him with hatred in his eyes as the police car door shut on him.      All your fault    . A fourteen year old girl hanging from a noose.      All your fault    . The sound of a gunshot in an alleyway.      All your fault    .  The phrase was like the slightest twitch of a finger that could pull back the trigger of a gun loaded with every horrific thing he’d ever seen, heard, or felt. Everything hit his brain in one compact shot and Shuichi didn’t have time to respond in any way except try desperately to avoid going into shock.

       It felt like the world was ending and when the world is ending you call Kaito Momota.

       *Beee-*

       *Click.*

       “...”

       “...”

       “Shuichi?”

       Kaito’s voice sounded groggy and confused over the phone.

       “...”

 “You there, man?”

       Shuichi tried to answer in the affirmative, but he couldn’t seem to force himself to speak. God, he was an idiot. He should’ve just texted. Kaito probably hated him anyway.

       “What’s up, dude? Something the matter?”

       No, Kaito is his friend and things are fine and he just needs to calm down right now.

       “Hello?”

       Okay. Okay. He was just trying to talk the wrong way. His throat was tensed to accommodate his heavy breathing instead of human speech.

       “Shuichi, is that you breathing weird into the receiver?”

       Yeah, okay, see? He was breathing weird. He should… stop that…

       “Ok, dude, whatever’s going on I’m gonna need you to not asphyxiate. Here, breathe with me. Inhale. Two... Three... Four... Five... Exhale. Two... Three... Four... Five...”

 Oh yeah. Shuichi was definitely breathing too fast right now. Panicky fast. Like close to hyperventilating fast. The kind of breathing fast that started squeezing liquids out of your face if you weren’t careful. Not doing that was like the first thing on the not having a panic attack checklist but somehow it was always the one Shuichi forgot first.

 “Inhale. Two... Three... Four... Five... Exhale. Two... Three... Four... Five...” Kaito repeated the rhythm and Shuichi could hear his friend matching it with his own breathing as Shuichi struggled to do the same.

 Inhale. Two... Three... Four... Five...

 As Shuichi counted in his head he felt almost every part of his body loosen to some degree.

 Exhale. Two... Three... Four... Five...

 With the exhale the pressure behind his eyes began to dissipate.

 Pretty soon Shuichi was breathing in a way that the kids these days would call normal. While breathing normally was something human beings needed to do to not asphyxiate, it was quite shocking how physically helpful it was in preventing Shuichi from crying on a bench in front of an airport in Paris.

 He could still feel his heart pounding in his head, but at least his breaths weren’t fighting to outmatch its volume.

 The pounding went away by about the third exhale. He felt his power of speech return after the fourth.

 “... Sorry.” He murmured into the receiver on his cell phone.

 “Nothing to apologize for man. What’s going on?”

 “I. Uh. Am having a panic attack in front of the airport for some dumb reason.”

 “Gotcha gotcha gotcha.” Some shuffling, as if Kaito was repositioning himself on the other side. “I bet it’s not as dumb as you think man. You wanna talk about it, or do you want a distraction?”

 A woman bleeding out on the floor, her face eternally frozen in a scream.       All your fault    .

 “... A distraction is good. Just having, like, intrusive thoughts right now.”

 “Yeah, okay. Gimme a sec to make myself sociable, it’s pretty late here.” Shuichi heard some more shuffling through the speaker. He’d probably woken Kaito up.

 “Sorry.”

 “It’s all good man.” Kaito shuffled around some more. “Hmm… Oh yeah, I had a question at dinner, no one was around to answer.”                “Oh, is Maki out again?” Maki was Shuichi’s friend, Kaito’s partner, and a professional bodyguard. She stood next to people and looked intimidating in a suit for a living. Sometimes she stood next to Shuichi and looked intimidating for free.

 Maki holding a pipe, the end coated in blood.      All your fault    .

 Inhale. Two... Three... Four... Five... Exhale. Two... Three... Four... Five...

 “Yeah, that’s our Maki Roll. Busy as a bee.” There was a scritching sound over the phone that could’ve been static or Kaito itching his stubble. “Since I was cooking for one last night I made Saturn-ghetti.”

 Shuichi wrinkled his nose instinctively. “Ew.”

 Saturn-ghetti was what Kaito called regular spaghetti with one big meatball in the middle. It sounded tame enough now that Kaito made the big meatball on his own, but when he first introduced Shuichi and Maki to the concept it was in their college’s cafetorium and he had just taken all the meatballs from a regular spaghetti and meatball dish and mashed them all together into one big ball in the middle. Shuichi had quite literally seen murder scenes less gruesome.

 “Hey man, I don’t judge Maki Roll for dipping fries in shakes or you for dipping bread in soups.”

 “Dipping is normal Kaito. You’re supposed to dip carbs. Everyone does it. You’re the only person in the whole world who mushes meat.”

 What about that guy who used a meat tenderizer to mush his victim’s faces in…

 “Why would you want to eat tiny meatballs?”

 “So you can eat them with the spaghetti.”

 “Can’t a guy just have a separate meat and noodle experience? You can’t even process the flavor if you eat both at once!”

 “They’re supposed to go together. Otherwise, you would just make a meatloaf.”

 “Well I don’t have a recipe for meatloaf Shuichi, I have a recipe for meatballs.”

 “Do you mean meatball, singular?”

 “Yes, I do. Glad we can both agree that’s what I mean since it’s the best way to eat spaghetti. Anyway, back to my problem.”

 “I thought this was the problem.”

 “Saturn-ghetti is not a problem it’s an art. My problem was that when I was making the noodles I realized that I had forgotten what that metal bowl thingy is called. You know, the one with the holes in it.”

 “If only that had stopped you.”

 “Yo, I’m serious! I have no idea what it’s called and it’s been driving me insane all night.”

 “Do you mean a strainer?”

 “No, I know it strains stuff but like there’s a different name for it. Like. It sounds like cauliflower? Except not because it’s not a vegetable.”

 “A colander?”

 “Yeah, that’s it! Jeezus Louizus that was driving me crazy. You’re a lifesaver man, where would I be without you?”

 “Uh probably googling ‘another name for noodle strainer.’” Shuichi didn’t really see how knowing what the metal strainy thing is called could save a life. Maybe if you were getting murdered and had one chance to write down the name of the culprit and you knew their name was the same as what that metal strainy thing is called but you forgot what it was. Wait, no, in that scenario you still got murdered. God, what was wrong with him? Did his brain always have to jump to murder right away?

 “Nah,” Kaito said with conviction. “I wouldn’t be half the man I am without my awesome sidekick around to back up.”

 At the familiar phrase, Shuichi felt his heart warm and the tight ball of anxiety in his gut loosened in turn. “Sidekick,” was admittedly an odd term of endearment for a friend of almost ten years, but if you knew Kaito you knew it was a word that meant something to him. To him, having a sidekick means having someone who you backup no matter what. Even if they make mistakes or aren’t sure of themselves quite yet. Because you believe in them. No matter what.

 “I wouldn’t be where I am today without you either, Kaito.” He sighed. “Not that that’s saying much…”

 “What do you mean by that?” Shuichi could hear the frown in Kaito’s voice.

 “Ugh. Nothing. Or. It’s just.” Inhale, two, three, four. Remember to breathe. “It just feels awful to be having a freak out like this again. I haven’t had a panic attack in like a year. It just feels like sometimes that I’m doing okay and I’m not still some stupid teenager still freaking out because I feel a little guilty about a guy being in prison and my parents not being around because of me and then I have a panic attack at an airport and it feels like I’ve made absolutely no progress at all in dealing with any of my anxieties at all and even though I’ve tried so hard to change who I am I’m still the same pathetic kid I’ve always been.”

 Keep breathing. Exhale, two, three, four.

 “Hey man, it’s okay. We all get those days sometimes. You feeling up to talking about it now?”

 “Which part?”

 “Like, why you were freaking out. It’s usually not for no reason, even if it seems like it.”

 “Uh.” Yeah okay. Breathing was really helping to clear out his head. He was feeling more in control of his general brainspace than he was a second ago, which was good. “Honestly it’s not the worst thing that could’ve happened. No one died. All that happened was the Louvre got robbed.”

 “Yeah, okay that doesn’t sound that bad.”

 “But on the other hand, it was the      Louvre     that got robbed. It’s a national treasure here. The whole country is going to blame me for it.”

 “Wait, sorry, what’s the loo in French again? I know it means the toilet in the UK, but does it mean something else in French?”

 “No, not the loo. The Louvre. The famous museum.”

 “Oooh, yeah. Right, right, don’t listen to me I’m tired.”

 “Oh, sorry-”

 “No, no, keep going. Listening to my sidekick’s problems is more important than catching forty winks.”

 “Uh. Right. So I’ve been tracking DICE for a while now, right?”

 “Uh-huh, the clown guys, I’m familiar.”

 “And I know Maki thought I was crazy, but I knew that they were going to pull this job on the Louvre, right? And so I get on the plane and this weird guy sits next to me. He breaks my seat and pretends to be married to me so that the flight attendant upgrades us to first class.”

 “What the hell?”

 “Is that weird? I couldn’t tell if that was weird or not.”

 “No yeah, that’s shady as shit. Do I need to come to Paris and tell him to step off for you?”

 “No, uh, you’d probably have a hard time finding him, because it turns out? He was the thief the whole time?”

 “Whaaaaaat.”                “Yeah, apparently I was just shooting the breeze with a criminal mastermind and I’m such an idiot I should’ve jumped out of the plane after him without a parachute.” Like that guy they found impaled by a lamp post...

 “Hey man that’s on him, you can’t blame yourself for the existence of criminal- wait did you say he jumped out of the plane?”

 “Yes.”

 “Like, while you were in the air?”

 “Uh, yeah, through the emergency exits.”

 “Duuuuude that’s super dangerous. I don’t know how high up you were but the pressure change could’ve caused all of the oxygen to suck out of the cabin.”

 “That’s… Alarming…”

 It also brought up some interesting questions. Shouldn’t the pilot of the plane have been able to tell that there was a life threatening pressure change in the cabin? Or did DICE do something to tamper with the equipment? Did they manage to jump out at an altitude that wouldn’t be lethal to everyone in the cabin through chance or calculation? In the latter case that might add to the traits profiling the group, the ability implying at least some form of higher education. What about other sources of information? Maybe they bribed the pilot? He’d need to be interviewed. Shuichi would need to make that suggestion when the police got here. They’d probably also want to do a forensic analysis of the drug that was used on the passengers. There’d most likely be some trace of component that they could utilize to locate possible business contacts or country of origin for the thieves. Knowing their flight information was also a great advantage, it meant they could track down several forms of ID. Even if they were faked it would allow for higher scrutiny on future flight paths if Interpol decided to pursue this investigation seriously. Toilets wouldn’t really keep their attention, most investigators at the Smithsonian were more concerned about the mammoth than all the stolen picture frames, so unless DICE made off with something more valuable this time around Interpol probably wouldn’t waste time sending agents over. Then again Agent Ishimaru was the agent in charge of the DICE case now and he was very thorough when it came to his investigations. If Interpol showed up, maybe Shuichi would get a chance to look at the next note when it was sent to them, like he had in America...

 “Hey, am I supposed to be able to track everything it is you’re muttering to yourself there or is that just for you?”

 “Oh, uh,” Hghk he was muttering out loud. “Just for me, sorry. Stuff about the case.”

 “Oh, yeah, okay cool, cool, cool.” Kaito paused for a moment. “Wish I could be there to back you up in person, man. Hurts my soul as a man and your friend that I didn’t support you all the way on this Louvre thing when you brought it up before.”

 “What?” Oh, he meant that thing that Maki said about him needing a vacation. “No, no it’s understandable. I was running on like… fifteen minutes of sleep and fourteen cups of coffee when I told you two about my theory.”

 “Man, I just want you to know that no matter what we’re always here to support you. Even if we get it wrong sometimes we’re just worried you know. Also, you need to sleep more.”

 Shuichi frowned. “You make it sound like you and Maki are my parents.”

 “Nah, parents suck. We’re your friends. Much better.”

 Shuichi laughed at that. “Yeah, okay, fair.”

 Was that a siren Shuichi heard? Maybe?

 “Kaito I think police are gonna be here soon. I gotta go.”

 “Oh, yeah, okay. You feeling better now?”

 Shuichi paused to take mental stock of himself. He tried to remember how he felt before he came outside. Things were fine, he was just doing some damage control. By all means this incident was a break in the case rather than the wrecking ball to his career his more panicked thoughts were trying to convince himself of. He was fine. Things were fine.

 Except…

 “Uh. Yeah, mostly. I guess maybe I’m just tired?” Yeah he was definitely tired.  His eyes felt like they’d just spent the last ten years trying to watch the wind on a mountain peak. “I dunno. Logically I know that everything is fine and I’m doing alright, but that part of me that feels like I’ve failed and I’m going to mess everything up forever is still there no matter what I do.”

 “Hey man, you know what I always say. There’s nothing you can do about the past, but you will always have the power to change what’s happening right now. You’re my sidekick and a brilliant detective to boot, you can do anything.”

 “Right. Yeah. You’re right.” It didn’t really matter that DICE had gotten away with the heist on the Louvre. Plumbing parts and paintings were replaceable. What Shuichi’s investigation had always been concerned with was the amount of unregulated capital DICE was accumulating and what exactly the shady organization was planning to do with it.

 “Now tell me what it is you wanna do right now.”

 “I… I’m gonna track down those thieves.” That would have to be the next step of course. There’d probably be some evidence at the Louvre if the police would let him take a look…

 “Heck yes you are!”

 “And I’m going to figure out what they’re up to.”

 “Hell yeah you are!”

 Shuichi laughed a little at Kaito’s unwarranted enthusiasm, but he let the mirth drained from his expression when he looked up to see the police cars he heard before pulling into the lane in front of the airport. An officer stepped out of the first one and Shuichi stood to wave her over.

 “Ah, the police just got here. I gotta talk to them.”

 “Fuck yeah you do!” Kaito exclaimed with the same level of pep talk energy he’d said every other encouragement with. “Go get ‘em Shuichi!”

 “I will.” Shuichi said, not entirely sure.

 “You will.” Kaito said, completely certain.

     I will.     Shuichi repeated to himself as he hung up and made his way over to the police officers. It seemed like there were three cars. That was kind of odd considering the 112 responder said it’d be two cars. Wait, was that last one a news van?

   Shit.

---

 Parisians are in shock after the theft of Dutch painter Van Huysum’s priceless, centuries old  painting “Vase of flowers in a niche” from the musée du Louvre just this morning. The following interview was conducted with M. Saihara, a private eye known for the recovery of a stolen mammoth skeleton from an american museum, called the Smithsonian, just a few weeks ago.

 Journaliste: What can you tell us about the robbery at this time?

 M. Saihara: It is the working theory of the Paris Police force that the culprits behind the break in at the musée du Louvre are the internationally wanted criminal group known as DICE. These police sketches have been released of two members of this group. If you spot anything or anyone suspicious, please report it to the Paris Police Prefecture.

 Journaliste: Are these the same criminals who robbed the Smithsonian in America a few weeks ago?

 M. Saihara: I believe so.

 Journaliste: Is it likely that the robbers are still in Paris?

 M. Saihara: Very likely.

 Journaliste: What are the chances that the stolen piece will be reclaimed?

 M. Saihara: We don’t have enough information to determine that at this time. Just know that the Paris Police Prefecture is doing everything they can to return it to the people of Paris.

 Journaliste: What of the criminals? Is it likely they will be caught?

 M. Saihara: If I have anything to say about it, yes they will be.

 Journaliste: M. Saihara, do you know if-

 M. Saihara: Je suis désolé Mademoiselle, I must be going now. The Paris police will most likely release a more elucidating press statement when more information is received. Bonne journée.

 Journaliste: Merci, M. Saihara.

       Kokichi Ouma exited out of the google translate tab he’d opened up on Queen’s laptop. At the end of the article were two police sketches. Jack’s didn’t look all that accurate (thank god for contouring) so Kokichi supposed they could all breathe a sigh of relief on that front. Now, the sketch of him on the other hand…

       King whistled and Kokichi realized the taller DICE member was leaning over his shoulder to peer at the screen in front of him. “That detective really got a good look at you.”

       Kokichi scoffed, not wanting to raise unnecessary alarm. “Please. The nose and eyebrows are all wrong.”

       “He really got down the bird’s nest though.” King pointed out, reaching to muss up Kokichi’s effortlessly stylish coiffure.

       “What’d I tell you?” Kokichi preened. “No living creature could forget a face like mine.”

       “You’re right,” King quipped back “It’s a face that haunts nightmares.”

       “A face only a mother could love.” Rook chimed in.

       “And yours gave you away after just one look!” Chirped Bishop.

       “Hey maybe that Saihara guy wants to try lovin’ it instead.” Queen interjected suggestively

       “Okay, okay, can it everyone,” Kokichi raised his hand to silence the spontaneous roast. “I’m thinking.”

       “Club,” He pointed at his second shortest croney.. “Where are we heading?”

       Club, who to his credit had been extremely focused on being polite and waiting for his turn and had definitely earned a heist after mixing ten liters of knock-out drugs in the back of a plane, exclaimed, “Theresthiscasino-” like he had been holding his breath, “-andtheyjustgotthesefancynewlightfixtures and, and, alsothesevintagearcadeconsoles-”

       “Sounds cool.” Kokichi’s tone didn’t give away the fact that he had no preference as to where their next hit was and only had getting out of Paris in mind. “Where’s it at?”

       “Uh. Like, Reno. Which is in Nevada. I think.”

       Kokichi frowned. “Nevada? Is that like a country in South America or something?”

       “Nah, it’s one of the United States.” Informed Ace, the only member who ever got genuinely interested in sight-seeing and therefore the only one who looked at maps that weren’t building schematics.

       Kokichi squinted at that. “We were just in the states. You know I’d rather jump off a building than rob the same place twice.”

       “Boss, you know, actually Nevada is further from D.C. than France is from Ukraine.”

       “What? But aren’t they in the same country?”

       “Yeah, the U.S.A. is just broken like that.”

       Ugh. Weird. Maybe Kokichi should also look at a map of the world some day.

       “Fine, okay, I guess since you twisted my arm, we’ll have to go to Reno.” If Kokichi remembered correctly telephones calling from France started with the area code of one of five regions. Paris had the code of 01, but if they were on the western outskirts it may be 02, or 03 on the eastern outskirts. Then the rest of the phone numbers were eight more randomly assigned numbers. “Let’s head out. Queen, do you still have that program for a spam call bot you showed me three months ago?”

       “Uhh maybe, but I’d need wifi for that.”

       “Okay.” He stood up, pulling out his phone to do some quick googling. “We’re gonna split in two groups. Red smiles with me in group one, we’re driving out to the Tours Val de Loire Airport down south. Make sure you have the right cover story IDs, it’s a three hour drive so prepare yourselves. Bishop, you’re going to have to do my makeup in the car. Everyone else will be in the other van with Queen, group A. After you’ve found a source of wifi, you five will be calling in some false reported sightings. Not too many, but enough in specific places we won’t be going that it’ll misdirect the police. I’ve written down the phone number rules for France on this napkin. If it seems like we’re in the clear you can overflow the system if you want to. Message us with progress updates and we’ll confer about flights and cargo control after group one has reached Tours Val de Loire. Group A will take off from the Orly airport and we’ll meet at Reno-Tahoe International in a few days. I've sent a message in the groupchat with everything I’ve just said, so don’t worry if you missed a detail it’s all there verbatim. Let’s get rolling.”

       “Yes, Boss!” The members of DICE said with varying levels of conviction.

       Kokichi handed Queen the napkin he had written on as the rest of DICE started to stand up from the four seater cafe booth they’d all crammed into like a clown car. He grabbed another napkin that he would use to write the next note to interpol. What would the six layers of cipher be this time? What about a set of random symbols equated to numbers that would represent the coordinates of katakana strokes in a one unit box which would then translate to english letters in a polyalphabetic cipher which would reveal the riddle? Wait that was only five layers. Eh, he could work on it in the-

 Kokichi saw detective Saihara’s photograph on the monitor out of the corner of his eye and his swirling thoughts came to a momentary hallt..  It seemed like the picture had been taken hurriedly outside of the Paris de Gaulle. It was blurry and a little dark. All Kokichi could really see was that his shirt was half untucked and his hair was so messy you could hardly tell he had eyes. Kokichi found himself wishing he could get a good look at those eyes. Just to tell what the detective was thinking.

 Not that it mattered.  

       Kokichi closed the computer and slid it over to Queen as he exited the booth.

       As he handed it over, Queen gave him an odd look, like he had noticed something. “Where’d you get that cut, boss?” he asked.

       “I punched through a window with my bare hands, just to feel something again...” Kokichi replied, putting on an exaggerated grimace.

       Queen gave him a look that said ‘what did I expect’ and followed the rest of the gang out of the shop.

       The Louvre heist was as good as over. He’d gotten away with it already.

       Kokichi wondered if any of the heists to come would be at all helpful in the war against tedium he had been fighting his entire life.

 “If I have anything to say about it, yes they will be.”

 Kokichi realized he was fidgeting with the bandage on his finger.

 …

 Good bye, Paris.

[boboricha]

Rating: T

Words: 1.8k

Pairing: Gen

Summary: 5+1; 5 lives Kuwabara lived and 1 time he isn’t alive yet. A reincarnation fic. 

I.

He’s trying to keep his breathing under control. If he doesn’t, he’ll bleed out. Then he won’t be any good to anybody. Especially not these poor kids, these kids who have lost their mother and father to these fucking demons. 

In his chest, his heart aches for them, for everyone who had to suffer in this life. 

It aches for the older sister that never was given the chance to marry, have children, and grow old.

All because of one man’s god complex. 

Inhale, exhale. Concentrate. Find the blood vessels. Stop the bleeding. Can’t die yet. Not until these kids are safe. 

Gripping his katana tighter, he locks eyes with his enemy. 

A man mustn't run from a battle. 

Racing forward, with a blade colored gold, he goes to sever the demon’s neck. 

He hopes, in a future life, for the power to cut through anything.

II.

Kurama blinks as he stares down at the manga that depicts four characters ready for battle on the cover page. 

If he were anybody else, he wouldn’t have thought much of it. Even Yusuke or Hiei would have probably never spared it a second glance. Honestly, for a second, he even thought it was a stretch to think that it could be the four of them together. Maybe he’s getting sentimental after all these years, wishing for the four of them to reunite and take on the evils of the world like the good days.

But no, the nine-tailed fox character with squinting eyes and a sultry smile resonates with him. 

So he picks a copy up and takes it with him to Yusuke’s ramen restaurant.

By the time he’s finished reading it, he’s sure of it.

This is their story.

Of course, it’s a stitched-together tale. The works of editors and other influences are clear. Obviously, there are embellishments. It’s a telephone version of their tale.

But it’s their tale nonetheless.

With trembling hands, Kurama takes a closer look at the authors and can’t help but let out a wet laugh.

Yusuke pops his head out of the kitchen and looks at him curiously. “What’chu laughing about over there Kurama?”

Kurama lifts up the manga and points right at the names of the authors with a bright smile.

Written by Kawahara Kazuko and Kai Yumi. Drawn by Kawahara Kazuko. 

III.

Yusuke is bored as hell. 

To be fair, that’s how he feels most of the time nowadays. 

Fuck demon lifespans.

That’s how he ends up wandering around town aimlessly, trying not to think about how the lack of a need to care about time feels more like a noose than the freedom it’s supposed to be.

He’s passing by the edge of a new park when he hears a vibrant sound from a violin.

Then there’s the strike of the keys on a piano. 

A duet.

Yusuke could care less about music, especially classical shit (that was definitely more up Kurama’s alley and back in the day, especially during a study session). 

But something is pulling him forward. 

He sees them in a little stadium at the center of the park and every fiber of his being knows these two auras. 

Her hair is black this time, but her eyes are a warm brown like the first time he met her. The violin is nestled under her chin and her fingers dance over the strings, her body swaying with the song. She might be taller than him this go around.

His hair is blonde (and though Yusuke misses that vibrant orange, he’s still glad to see his friend’s hair still sticks out like a sore thumb). Unfortunately, it’s not coiffed, but cleanly cut. His jaw is softer but his cheekbones are as sharp as ever. His frame is still as huge as ever, and his long fingers show mastery over the piano keys. 

He knows jack shit about music, but even he can tell they’re no amateurs. The crowd that’s settled around the little stage tells him as much. 

He feels his mouth go dry and his throat threatens to close up. 

Yusuke’s never been so glad to have been bored.

IV.

Hiei’s been trailing him for a couple of days now.

Honestly, he’s disappointed. Back in the day, at his best, Kuwabara would call him out for being a stalker in a matter of minutes, even when he suppressed his energy. It had become a bit of a game, not that Hiei would ever admit that. Obviously, this reincarnation would require a significant amount of training before he could be half the man he used to be. Hiei is both annoyed by the idea and anticipating it.

So far, all Hiei can conclude about this Kuwabara’s life is that it is quite bland. 

The boy goes to school, hangs around with his adolescent friends playing catch or going to the arcade, then goes home to diligently study before going to bed. 

He lingers in the shadows as another day goes by. Orange and pink bleeds into blue as the sun starts to set in the distance. 

In a minute, Kuwabara will make a sharp right and keep... that’s not a right. 

Hiei leaps off his branch to follow. 

When he sees the teen’s destination, the fire demon can’t help but think that really, he shouldn’t have expected anything. 

The human opens the door to a pastry shop, and a bell jingles to welcome his presence. From the large window, Hiei observes as the reincarnation moves behind the counter and puts on an apron before disappearing into the back of the store.

Assuming that it would be a while before this Kuwabara came back from his apparent job, Hiei chooses to take a nap. 

It’s about three hours later that the high school student leaves the pastry shop, waving goodbye to the owners. A bag, no doubt full of extra sweets, hangs off his arm. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he whistles as he heads toward what Hiei knows is his home. 

Right before he crosses the threshold, Kuwabara turns, digging into the pastry bag, pulling out a delicately made cupcake. He bends to place it on the ground before straightening up and looking directly at where Hiei is hidden in the brush of the trees. There’s a smug look coupled with a wide grin and if there was any doubt in his mind before about this being Kuwabara, it’s gone, replaced by the feeling of wanting to murder the buffoon. 

As if feeling his malicious intentions, Kuwabara cackles. 

“You’re not as good as ya’ think, ya’ stalker. I’m a nice guy though. So I’ll let ya’ have this as a consolation gift. It’s handmade by yours truly. See ya’ round.”

With a final smirk and a two-finger salute, the cheeky fucker is gone.

The cupcake is terrible, he tries to tell himself. 

V.

He’s fucking eleven. 

Yusuke, for one heartbreaking moment, wishes he didn’t find him this time around. There are no locks of hair for Kuwabara to even attempt to coif. He’s the smallest he’s ever been in all his lives. His parents have to wheel him around.

When he tells Kurama and Hiei about it, they go seek him out on their own terms. 

Hiei comes back looking shaken and absolutely furious. The fire demon is ready to rip open the heavens to tear Koenma a new one. 

Honestly, Yusuke would be right behind him the moment he tried. 

“He reeks of death,” Hiei mutters.

Kurama goes and comes back with pained eyes. He’s clenching his fists so hard they’re trembling. 

“I visited him while he slept. He… he’s so frail. He only has a couple of months left.”

Yusuke wants to punch something. But how the fuck do you punch cancer?

So Yusuke settles for just… loitering around the hospital. He smokes outside the door and gets yelled at by the nurses. 

Kurama keeps visiting while Kuwabara’s sleeping. He leaves flowers.

The stubborn bastard doesn’t admit it, but Yusuke knows Hiei’s taken up residence at one of the hospital’s tallest trees. 

It’s only three months before his aura flickers away like a candle blown out. It feels like a stab in the gut in a way the other times Kuwabara left them doesn’t.

It’s not even a couple of hours after that, that a cat is nudging Yusuke’s leg, a letter tied to its collar. 

Thanks for keeping me company. I missed you guys. See you next time.

+1

“You ass, took you long enough.”

“Shut up Urameshi. You know how many times I’ve had to go through this shit? You can deal with waiting a couple of years.”

“You look well Hiei.”

Yusuke’s arms are crossed, and he’s tapping his toes against the ground. Kurama’s leaning against a tree, fiddling with a rose petal. Kuwabara is sprawled out on the floor, gazing up at the clouds in the sky. 

“Hmph, I suppose you expect me to apologize for not perishing earlier?”

“Urameshi’s just pissed that he died earlier than you.”

“What was that you piece of shit -” 

“It’s comforting to know that even after all these years, you two still get along like peas in a pod.”

“Enough of this prattle. Isn’t there somewhere we have to be?”

“Oh my god, yes, finally. Let’s go.”

Kuwabara lurches himself up into a sitting position. “You just got here! Don’t you wanna, I dunno, look around or whatever?”

“Smell the roses?” Kurama remarks cheerfully, choosing to ignore the exasperated looks on his teammate’s faces. But then he turns more pensive, before stumbling upon an epiphany of sorts. A self-satisfied, knowing smirk is directed towards the shortest member of the group, causing Hiei to bristle. 

“Ah well, there’s always next time,” Kurama lends a hand to Kuwabara, pulling him up. They start walking together towards the end of this realm. It’s not long before they stand together in front of a blinding light. “Really Hiei, after all these years, you could stand to be more honest with us.”

“Shut it fox, I will cut you.”

“Huh?” Yusuke and Kuwabara both look at Kurama curiously.

Kurama’s face is damn smug at this point. He cups his hand over his mouth to mock whisper to the two former delinquents. “He’s just eager for all of us to be reborn at the same time. He missed us.”

“You’re an absolute fool if you think that’s the case. If I’m eager to do anything then it’s to get away from the lot of you as fast as possible!” 

They’re laughing and wrapping themselves around Hiei as they walk into the light.

[washedupfae]

A Break Down of Pink Diamond / Rose Quartz (Spoilers)

I am sadly amused, watching the fandom flip flop on PD/RQ's character, when I believe we are missing some key points here. She is not a one dimensional character. You can not just say she is evil or good, and in this post, I will try to explain why.

Pink Diamond was the youngest of the Diamonds.

I believe this fact to be true. We have all seen (Stop reading now of course, if not sooner, for spoilers if you have not watched the series up to and through the movie) how the other Diamonds treated Pink through Steven's visions.

They treated her like a child, and though she did have brattish behavior, I do not believe all of her intentions were evil. Of course what happened with Spinel was indeed cruel, but we will come back to Spinel soon.

When you examine her outfit and compare it to the other Diamonds, we can begin a break down here. She is, clownish at best.  Smaller, prone to temper tantrums, and selfish.  White Diamond, the tallest and clearly most powerful of all (Until Steven of course, different sort of power though.) Stands in a radiant display of authority. Next we see Yellow Diamond, militaristic and commanding, everything about her speaks of order and control. Blue Diamond, the one I believe to be the closest to ever understanding Pink among the Diamonds, while still lofty and thinking herself better then other gems and life forms, has the most empathy of all, a regal lady. Then there is Pink.

From her pom pom slippers, to her poofy sleeves, this outfit of hers (which I cringed every time Steven wore it) just speaks of childishness. She is of course the smallest and most likely weakest Diamond, and is treated as a child time and time again. She is scolded, locked away, and even has her Pearl taken away and replaced at one point.

Next lets take a look at the combined ships.

The Diamonds each have a personal ship, which they can use in times of need or otherwise. White has the head and torso, which to me symbolizes her status as  being in control of the entire gem populace including the Diamonds. Blue and Yellow both take the role of arms and hands, being the force of power for the Diamonds to take control while Pink? Pink has the remaining lower half and legs of the ship.

Now why is this? Could it mean that by being beneath the other Diamonds, Pink supported them? They clearly did not do well on a personal level without her. I do believe that during the good times, Pink kept the Diamonds grounded, some what. With her childish nature and pursuit of fun, she was an outlet for the Diamonds to relax and enjoy their status and power.

Grand parties, time spent just the four of them , and so forth. But over time, I feel as if there may have been a distance grown between Pink and the other three, and I think it begins with Pink's first Pearl.

Now lets take a glance at the Diamond Authority symbol. Pink is once more at the bottom. Do you suspect that she ever grew resentful of this fact? No matter what she did, she was never good enough for the other three? It is something to think on. As you can see from supporting characters such as our Pearl, the Pebbles, and Spinel, Pink was supplied with gems (or whatever the Pebbles are) who would keep her preoccupied, but in the end it was not enough.

My Opinion on Pink and Rose.

As I have watched the series, I have seen Rose go from a heroic character on a pedestal, to a thorn in everyone's side. Pink was mysterious in the beginning, so little was known of her and her shattering. We just, for a long time throughout the series, how Pink was mourned, but no one really said anything about her.

There was a build up, to show compassion from Pink and Rose. Pink saw something in Earth that she did not want destroyed, had a zoo (can not remember if she designed it, or if one of the other Diamonds created it for her) of humans, which she maintained, as well as her pleas for the Earth not to be destroyed by the gem's methods (as well as the Cluster, but my memory fails me at when this was put into play) of stripping the land barren, thus leaving nothing behind when they were done. Human kind fascinated her.

As the story progressed, we see through Steven's eyes, how he comes to realize that his mother was not what everyone portrayed her to be. She was not a gem of mercy and selflessness, but was indeed selfish and easily forgot about problems she left for someone else to take care of.

But for one second, dear readers, we need to remember something.

Pink loved. She loved the Earth. As Rose she loved humanity, she loved Greg, and she loved Steven so much as to give up her very existence for him. She is *gone*, we have seen that when Steven's gem was removed. Pink/Rose is gone.

Now, lets go back to Pink for a moment. She was indeed, childish. What she did to Spinel is unforgivable, and yet at the same time, you can see what lead her to this point. Pink was being pushed and denied by her fellow Diamonds and had no more time for games and play, and yet Spinel was created to need constant attention.

Pink was exasperated. She made a horrible decision, as she did many times over, and it caused a heck of a lot of pain.

But I honestly do not think this made her evil.

Pink/Rose, was a character who went from having everything and nothing at the same time, to one who fought for what she cared for. She made so many mistakes and did not return to clean up her messes, leaving them for others (Mostly Steven), but I do not think she always had bad intentions. Maybe she had plans to return for Spinel, who knows? Maybe, she did not expect the war to keep her away from the Garden so long.. can you picture Spinel in the war?

Yes she should have gone back for her. Even if it wasn't safe, she should have done something, maybe send Spinel to the zoo to play with the humans, or back to Home World. Leaving her to rot in the Garden was a cruel act, but I just can not accept that she meant to leave her there forever.

I would like to explore Rose a bit more later on, from what I have seen of the show, she has some interesting characteristics, and I honestly want to take a look at her memory, I am convinced that she may have suffered from something.. I am not sure what, but something which may have caused key things to be forgotten, or perhaps she was just so full of wonder that she honestly did forget about Spinel.

Who knows?

But I ask you to keep this in mind. Pink/Rose was not evil. She was childish, selfish, and forgetful. She showed compassion, leadership, and love. Each character in the show has flaws, and that is what makes this show so fantastic. It is not cut and dry as one may think at first, heck a lot of 'filler' from season one actually proves to be story structure later on!

I do not think we can really lay Pink's memory to rest just yet.

[retvenkos]

“i am flawless, thank you for noticing”

requested

HOW I IMAGINE THE PHYSICAL APPEARANCE OF THE NEXT GEN. HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS...

Teddy Lupin

okay, so teddy is very tall - like 6′2 (188 cm)

also, their hair is pretty magical

it’s usually blue but when victoire kisses them it turns pink also, like i said earlier, it perpetually sticks up in the back, and it curls around their ears

brown eyes

and i headcanon a latino! remus lupin, so teddy has some really clear, tanned skin

Victoire Weasley

so homegirl is part veela, so we know she’s really pretty but not the prettiest - louis holds that spot

she’s like a carbon copy of her mom, but with a couple of differences

she has freckles all over her arms and a bit on her face

really long, blonde hair that holds a curl really nice

she’s also pretty tall, i’m thinking around 5′11 (180 cm)

that doesn’t stop her from wearing heels though

Lysander Scamander

so i have already mentioned that he has kinda curly light brown hair and big blue eyes

i also mentioned that this boy has a serious freckle problem

but don’t worry fam, he can make it work

his hair is on point most of the time, always styled and it looks effortless even though he probably spends a decent amount of time on it

he’s probably like 5′9 (175 cm)

Lorcan Scamander

blue eyes and dirty blonde hair that is longer - he can pull it into a tiny bun and dominique definitely is the one who does it for him all the time

doesn’t actually have any freckles on his face, just on his back, arms, and legs

his nose is slightly crooked - you can tell it used to be really straight but then he broke it twice playing quidditch and once because lysander threw a book at him when he was being annoying, you know, like brothers do

5′9 (180 cm)

Dominique Weasley

has really clear skin, and a cute button nose

shoulder length blonde hair and hazel-ish eyes that go from bright green to brown

shorter than the rest of her siblings at 5′6 (168 cm)

she is really pretty too (i mean, have you seen her parents) but she usually tends to downplay it rather than perpetuate it like her sister

but she frequently experiments with her hairstyles and looks good with literally everything

wonderful face shape

Molly Weasley II

cheekbones that could kill a man

a reddish brown bob with hazel eyes

a small nose that’s kinda pointy

she definitely has a widow's peak

5′3 (160 cm)

Louis Weasley

 a blonde with really bright blue eyes

he’s around 5′8 (173 cm) which makes victoire the tallest something she mentions on the daily

he definitely has bigger lips that he’s kind of insecure of, but literally, everyone loves them

his nose is a long one and his skin is very clear

Fred Weasley II

so we all know this boy has amazing dark skin because he looks so much like his mother

his hair is curly and red and so help him god, if you do not ask before touching it, it will be the last thing you ever touch

deep brown eyes that are set behind his glasses

his facial expressions are all george though

5′8 (173 cm)

oof

James Sirius Potter

so i’ve already mentioned his god awful hair and his hazel eyes

it’s dark brown, btw

and like, he’s short. like, 5′5 (165 cm) short

albus will make fun of him so hard.

he’s one of those kids who always looks like they could be up to something when he’s honestly just thinking about chicken nuggets???

his hair - once he grows into it - is an effortlessly messy but beautiful look and literally, everyone (except fred) is jealous of it

green eyes (it’s a potter curse)

also - dimples

Albus Severus Potter

so he has the darkest, jet black hair. 

he keeps it nice and tidy and actually tries to look put together so that people will remember him for something other than having the name of people who died

he doesn’t want to ride on the coattails of anyone else’s fame - he wants to be his own dude

and we know this boy has some crazy green eyes

like, harry’s eyes were green, but nothing is this green

and our boi was short for a hot minute, but in fourth year he just sprouts

we’re talking a solid 6′0 (183 cm)

he very rarely ever stands up straight tho, so whenever he does it’s really intimidating

Rose Granger-Weasley

okay, so being the daughter of ron - the most freckled of the weasleys (fite me on this) - this girl has some freckle issues

like, you could split her freckles onto three separate people and you would say that they had a lot

furthermore, she has some wonderfully curly, dark brown hair

the only difference is that it’s not too frizzy, which hermione was so happy about she almost cried

(she still has issues getting her hair to be tamed)

our girl is about 5′4-5′5 (163-165 cm)

also, i headcanon a black! hermione, so our girl has the most beautiful, dark skin

Scorpius Malfoy

first of all, our boy has some sharp cheekbones

be careful albus - you just might cut yourself

but he’s always so polite and smiley that it’s not something that makes him too regal looking

his eyes are a grey-ish blue but are big and so very kind

he has blonde hair like his pops, but it’s less slicked back and severe

he’s overall just softer than his dad but almost a carbon copy

5′7 (170 cm)

Lucy Weasley

light brown hair that has a natural soft wave to it and is super bouncy

round, coke bottle glasses that are actually really cute

they make her brown eyes big and wide

what a sunshine child, she lives in pastels i swear

5′4 (163 cm)

soft features that make you just smile

Hugo Granger-Weasley

we’ve already talked about his curly red hair briefly

but my lord, is it a mess

it bounces all over the place and is kinda long so his bangs kinda fall in his eyes - which are brown and big

honestly, he’s kind of a heartthrob, guys

his freckles are all concentrated on his face, most notably his nose

they would be his defining trait if he wasn’t smiling all the time

he’s lighter than his sister but still has a nice tan to his skin

(and y’all can fight me on this, biracial kids can be a myriad of colors)

he’s a solid 6′0 (183 cm)

Roxanne Weasley

okay, so first of all, homegirl has some long hair

i guess you would call it wavy, but it’s most defining trait is that it is thicc

and it’s jet black and beautiful

eyes?? 10/10 hazel and piercing

and she has all of her mother’s passion behind them

and she’s tall and lanky like her dad

and she is one of the few to be freckleless, but homegirl has enough charisma she doesn’t need any

she’s also taller than her bro, which she’s very proud of - 5′11 (180 cm)

Lily Luna Potter

she has reddish brown hair that’s in a long bob

it’s straight and actually kinda thin

also, she’s taller than james sirius and they make fun of him for his height at every given opportunity - she’s like 5′7 (170 cm)

carries on the potter legacy with green eyes

a lot of people say she looks like her grandma, lily.

which of course means a sprinkling of freckles

but more so means a kind smile that can turn on you in seconds

AND FLUFF ENSUES. (also, their names are in order of their age in relation to each other, so there’s that)

[princess-faelivrin]

It’s a very abridged list of characters, BUT I wanted to make a post about my interpretations of some of the CoH characters despite the fact that Nobody Asked. Apologies in advance for 100000 blocks of text and yelling. 

TÚRIN

Call it projecting, ‘cause I guess it is, but Túrin has always been half-Asian in my head, in terms of appearance. I don’t know if I do a good enough job of showing it in my art, but Morwen reminds me of my Taiwanese mom and Húrin of my white-passing dad, so my Túrin takes after his mom. He’s stated to have grey eyes, so grey eyes he will have, but I tend to draw them dark enough that they almost look black. Aside from that, he’s tallish with unruly also-almost-black hair and a tendency to wear dark colors, which... might also be projection except for the tall part. It is what it is. 

Anyway, personality-wise... I mean this with all the love in my heart, but Túrin’s a dumb emo. Actually I partially take that back-- he’s a smart emo, smart and charismatic enough to be a natural leader with a good head for battle, but a ridiculous emo nonetheless. 

As stated in the Childhood of Túrin, he was kind of a weird kid, too old for his age and slightly unsettling, with a quick temper and an ability to hold grudges, but he cared deeply for the feelings of those around him and had a strong protective instinct for his little sis Lalaith. He’s also shown to have a leaning towards pity throughout his life, for anyone hurt or sad or at a disadvantage, which is really sweet and kinda makes me want to cry. 

Later on, Túrin is clearly pretty impulsive and can be ruled by anger, like when he smacked Saeros in the nose with a cup (which is valid) and lashed out at Beleg when he tried to give him bread. He felt bad about that second one pretty quickly, but I think it’s mentioned a couple times throughout CoH that people are scared of Túrin because of how quickly his mood can go south. 

On the other hand, despite the fact that he keeps directly and indirectly killing them, Túrin actually does really love his friends. Obvs he loves Beleg, and he loved Sador and probably Nellas too, and during the Nargothrond chapter he tries his best to look after Gwindor and Finduilas and try to figure out what’s making both of them so damned sad all the time. He fails, of course, because he’s too oblivious to notice the romantic tension so thick you’d have to use Gurthang to cut it, but he tries and that’s what counts. 

BELEG

I think it might just be because of fanart, but Beleg as I see him has silver hair. Between Beleg and Mablung, the consensus seems to be that one of them has dark hair and the other silver, so my Beleg is the silver one. I have actually no idea what color his eyes are, though. Hazel? Who knows. He’s taller than Túrin, that’s for sure, with long legs and broad shoulders. I like drawing him with a little white flower pin on his clothes. 

He seems to be a pretty cheerful dude, probably the most cheerful in all of CoH, which is good for him, I guess. He laughs when the outlaws see him and go “oh shit, who is that?” and lets them be in suspense for a second or two before going “haha, sike, it’s me! Beleg! I have food for y’all starving dudes.” Thus, he’s a good foil/companion to Túrin’s depressing nature and his death removes a lot of the scant happiness in Túrin’s life. 

Something I love about Beleg is that he’s very forgiving and just like... a ridiculously nice person for the situation. Beleg doesn’t hold anything against Túrin, doesn’t hold anything against Andróg either (which is pretty impressive,) and immediately decides to give Gwindor lembas and take him along for the ride after finding him under a tree in the forest. 

The big important thing to Beleg’s personality, imo, is that he’s very loyal (to Túrin specifically.) Despite being told it’s a dangerous idea, he goes and looks for Túrin in the wilderness, and even Thingol is well aware he won’t be stopped. It also outright says that where Túrin is concerned, Beleg “yield[s] to his love against his wisdom” to be with him. He’s straight up referred to as the most steadfast of friends, which is really sad because it’s like a sentence after he dies, but there it is-- Beleg is a good friend and a loyal one. 

TÚRIN’S FAMILY

I already mentioned the fact that Túrin’s family reminds me a lot of mine, which definitely influences my perception of them, but anyway: 

Morwen is a fairly angular lady, who has dark dark hair pulled into a chopstick bun behind her head and a pair of raven-feather earrings that gleam in low light. She’s the parent that Túrin got his unsettling edgy aura from, and her Displeased Face is enough to scare any intruder out of her house. She loves her kids and her husband, but she’s stern so sometimes it’s hard to tell. 

Húrin is the neighborhood guy who knows everyone and who everyone knows in return. He’s kind of a square-looking blond guy, like Van Hohenheim from Fullmetal Alchemist except happier and more of a jock. He apparently can play the harp, which is cool, and he probably has lots of stories from being out and about with the elf-host. He loves his kids and his wife and likes to joke around sometimes with Túrin because he’s so straightforward and less inclined to humor. 

Niënor outstripped her parents and her brother in height, and ended up the tallest of the family. She has her dad’s blonde hair, and is slightly more square shaped than her mom or her brother. She’s also half-Asian, but you have to squint. She doesn’t fight like her brother, and is acutely aware of the Túrin-shaped hole in her mother’s life and heart and the matching shadow cast over her own life. However unlike Túrin she is in some ways, she has the same occasional fiery stubbornness and penchant for anguished theatrics, albeit on a smaller scale. 

Lalaith... poor kid. She was charming and cute but didn’t last long. 

MABLUNG

My Mablung has wavy-ish dark hair in a similar style to Beleg’s, and has a slightly less willowy build, for lack of a better way to compare them. He’s got dark eyebrows to better express how utterly unimpressed he is with whatever dumb shit is going down in Doriath, and probably a few not-too-flashy piercings. He’s very dignified in posture and appearance, but not like... pretentious, because he fights people in the woods on a regular basis. 

Out of Túrin’s friends, Mablung is probably the most akin to the Responsible One, with Gwindor at a close second. He’s less willing than Beleg to drop everything for a friend, and requires more evidence to support it, but he’ll still do it after thinking it over and will probably beat himself up about not having gone for it sooner. 

On that point, poor guy takes too much onto his own shoulders and ends up feeling shitty and miserable when he fails at something that he could not have possibly succeeded at. This is demonstrated in terrible, heartwrenching fashion throughout the story, when Mablung asks Thingol to fire him because he lost Morwen and Niënor, to which Thingol says “what no, you’re too good, we need you” and Melian says “don’t feel too bad about it, ok?” (he ignores the last part and continues to feel bad enough about it that he looks for Niënor for Literal Years.) Also on that topic is the scene in which Mablung sees Túrin dead and stands there like some sort of Beleriand Benvolio, realizing that all his friends are dead and that “thus with words have I slain one that I loved.” 

NELLAS

I almost forgot her, can you imagine? You probably can, because she’s a minor character who disappeared like a third of the way through the story, but let’s not talk about that. She’s a forest girl, so I imagine she likes to wear a lot of nice leaves on her head, and/or make a bunch of flower crowns and then drop them in fright if anyone happens to find her in the process. She has dark brown hair and big, curious eyes, and is short and slight even by human standards. 

Nellas has... hardcore dirt lesbian energy. It’s implied that she had a crush on Túrin, but honestly, I doubt that very much. In my head, she and Túrin were just really close pals, and she taught him about how to live in the woods and how to rescue worms from the rain. Her moment of glory, basically, is going into the city once and immediately proceeding to freeze up from anxiety in front of the king. Is that a mood? Yeah and I love her. I hope she’s okay.  

ANDRÓG

I realize he’s another minor character, but he is a very compelling one to me specifically, so. As I imagine him, he’s a fairly lean young dude with a hungry-wolf look about him, which is sort of a mixture of desperation, suspicion, and plain snappishness. He has dark eyes and hair a little darker than what could be called ‘mousy brown,’ tied back in a short ponytail. He also has a frequent scowl and generally is a little bit scary, although he isn’t exactly physically imposing in the ‘tall and buff’ sense. 

There really is no other way to describe Andróg’s personality than ‘he’s a particularly mean tsundere.’ He’s just... full of rage and repressed Feelings for Túrin and possibly also Beleg. Unfortunately, these feelings manifest in Being A Bitch And Generally Not Nice. It takes him so long to admit he can’t actually hate Beleg that he literally just up and dies after doing one (1) nice thing. Why do I like him? It’s anyone’s guess tbh. 

GWINDOR

Ah... yes...... the character who nobody talks about but who I love with my whole heart and soul. To start off with appearance, the only canon things about what he looks like is that he has dark hair and looks older than he would otherwise because torture. Immediately post-imprisonment and during it, I imagine his hair is short, but beforehand and a while after, it gets back to being long. He has a bunch of scars from all that too, and generally has the bearing and amount of grey hairs as a substitute teacher who nobody listens to. I draw him with grey eyes usually, but saw @bisexualturin‘s hc of him having had violet eyes before and I’m kinda in love thanks. 

In terms of who he is as a person, we don’t know much of what he was like before the Nirnaeth, but as I see him, he’s always had a fiery streak and a slightly acerbic sense of humor. Being tormented for 14 years forced him to mellow out some, by which I mean a) how the hell are you supposed to keep your sense of humor after that and b) as shown in his arguments with Túrin over tactics, he’s now extremely wary of head-on battle. 

He’s fundamentally someone who wants the best for the people around him, and who loves both Finduilas and Túrin very much despite feeling hurt and miserable over the fact that his opinion is now worth nothing to those in charge and the sense that he’s not good enough for anyone (much less his two best friends) in his current state. Overall, his dying speech is emblematic of the very Oof Ouch and Complicated feelings he ended up having toward Túrin, namely “you’re a dumbass and probably should have listened to me, but I love you and I am going to try my damndest to give both you and Finduilas as much of a chance at life as I can, even here as I bleed out in your arms.” 

Which brings us to... 

FINDUILAS

Finduilas is sweet like honey chamomile tea and her whole being radiates soft sunlight. In my mind, she’s somewhat round-faced, with really fluffy golden hair, sparkly freckles on tan skin, and a liking for wearing light blue clothes that match her eyes. She smiles a lot and possibly gives off actual light??? Also my heart is full of affection for chubby Finduilas. General consensus is Soft. 

Canon-wise, whether she’s more introverted or extroverted is kind of up to interpretation, as all we’re really given is that she worries about Túrin when he’s out fighting and “wishe[s] not to add one tear to [Gwindor’s] suffering.” I tend to think of her as sunny and gregarious, with way more game than her dad, and with endless reserves of empathy, sympathy, and compassion for the people she loves. 

As a Finwean princess, she absolutely has the capacity for badassery, which makes me very into the idea of Túrin rescuing her post-Nargothrond as per Gwindor’s request and the two of them going on a road trip of doom. But unfortunately, we don’t get to see another side of her in the book. 

I usually just put the book down and cry after the sack of Nargothrond, so I’ll just do one more character: 

ORODRETH

Ok, so Finduilas has to have gotten her Vanyarin hair from her dad, clearly. But since Elves can probably change their appearances based on willpower to some degree, Orodreth’s hair is nowhere near as fluffy, and is a darker honey-blonde than Finduilas’ gold. He’s one of the plainest-looking Finweans by virtue of the fact that he perpetually has this look on his face that makes him seem like he wants to melt into the floor and go back to Aman. Which he kinda does. 

Unfortunately, Orodreth didn’t do much in the story except be a doormat to like five different people and then die, but I still like him for whatever reason. Way early on, before Húrin or his kids were a thing, Orodreth was still himself, aka someone who asked nicely for people to not make bad decisions, and predictably didn’t get listened to. Sure, some of Fëanor’s terrible boys took over his hidden elf city, but what was he going to do? Fight them? No. He’d rather just Not. 

...I feel bad for him. He literally did not ask for Any Of That. 

that’s all y’all, I am so sorry for making you read the entirety of the inside of my head as it has been for the past four months 

[fanfics4all]

The Northside Serpent: Part 9

Request: Yes / No

Request are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Sweet Pea x Keller!Reader

Word count: 3586

Warnings: Little bit of cursing and some smut 

Y/N: Your Name

Summary: You’re Kevin Keller’s little sister when you’re mom left to go to war and your dad started cheating (I’m making it so he’s been cheating since season 1) You started rebelling; dying your hair, getting a nose piercing, tattoo, and hanging out on the southside.

A/N: I almost forgot about this! I’m sorry! Dumb sickness making me forget!

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

It was morning and the three of us were sitting at the table eating breakfast in silence. My dad was pissed at me for going with the Serpents, but when is he not lately. He was just giving me hard disapproving looks and Kevin just looked really awkward.

“I told you to stay away from them.” Our father said and I sighed.

“I’m not doing this again.” I said getting up and putting my dishes in the sink.

“You sit down right-” Before he could finish his phone went off. He answered it, had a short conversation then hung up.

“I have to go, someone apparently cut off General Pickens’ head.” He said and put his dishes in the skin as well.

“I bet it was your little Serpent pals.” He said and I glared at him. I held back since I didn’t want to have yet another fight with him. He left not long after and it was just me and Kevin.

“Let’s just get ready for school.” He sighed and I nodded. I ran up to my room to get dressed.

I decided to wear a simple, plain gray crop top, a simple black skirt, some cute heeled boots, and my leather jacket. For makeup I did some neutral eyeshadow with a wing and a dark neutral lip. I put my hair in a bun and grabbed my bag.

Kevin drove us to school and we met with Veronica, Betty, Archie, and Jughead in the student lounge. Veronica asked us to meet up with her and Kevin made me go instead of me seeing my boyfriend.

“I already invited Archie, but I want you guys to be there, as well.Usually these kinds of events, baptisms, confirmations are family-only, but since it's all about me and you guys are my chosen family, I pulled a few strings and reserved you a pew.” Veronica said, she was talking about her confirmation and I honestly couldn’t care. Being in a room with a ton of Lodges? No thanks.

“What is the dress code?” Kevin asked and looked at me, I rolled my eyes at him.

“Catholic chic. So, dresses for the girls, veils optional, and coats and ties for the boys.” She said with a smile.

“Jughead Jones and Betty Cooper, please report to the principal's office. Jughead Jones and Betty Cooper to the principal's office.” Principal Weatherbee said over the PA.

“What’d you two do?” I asked with a smirk.

“Probably the article I wrote.” Jug said rolling his eyes, The pair got up and left the lounge.

“You will you two be there?” Veronica asked looking at me and my brother.

“I do-”

“Of course!” Kevin said cutting me off.

“Great! And don’t worry Y/N I’m sure we can find a suitable dress for you.” She smiled and I just smiled back biting my tongue.

“I gotta go, class and all.” I said grabbing my bag and leaving. Ii went to my locker and grabbed my books. Someone came up behind me and grabbed my waist. I was about to turn around and punch them in the face when I heard who it was.

“Hey baby.” Sweet Pea’s voice rang through my ears. I smiled and turned around.

“Hey babe.” I said wrapping my arms around his neck.

“So, did your dad yell at you?” He asked and I sighed.

“No but he really wants to.” Sweet Pea kissed my head and I smiled again.

“He was on the Southside today asking if we had the head.” I rolled my eyes.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Wait you think we took it?” He asked shocked.

“What? No! He told Kev and I about it this morning and he said he thought it was you guys.” I said. Sweet Pea nodded and the bell rang.

“Well, we better get to class.” I said shutting my locker. Sweet groaned as I pulled him along.

After school I had to go home with Kevin or my dad said he’d groand me for months. So here I was sitting at home with my homework finished and bored out of my mind. I was in the living room with Kevin, I was on my laptop while he was watching something on T.V.

“Are you excited for Veronica’s party?” He asked out of nowhere.

“No, I don’t wanna be in a room full of Lodges.” I answered.

“Come on Y/N! You hardly hang out with us anymore, I’m starting to think dad’s right about the Serpents.” He said.

“What?” I asked annoyed and shut my laptop.

“Might I remind you that you dated a Serpent!”

“Yeah and look how that ended! He turned out to be an assistant to murder!” Kevin said. I glared at him ready to have a screaming match with him when our dad walked in.

“I got Pop’s for dinner.” He said and walked into the kitchen.

“This isn’t over.” I growled at Kevin then walked into the kitchen to eat. We were all sat down eating, none of us talking to each other when my phone rang.

“No phones at the dinner table.” He dad said. I ignored him and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Your dad just payed the Southside a visit again!” Sweet Pea growled.

“What?” I asked confused and looked at my dad.

“Hang up Y/N.” He warned me.

“Yeah, eviction notices, we have 2 weeks!” He yelled pissed.

“I’ll come by in a minute, don’t worry okay?”

“We’ll be at the Wyrm.” He said then hung up.

“What the hell dad!” I shouted annoyed.

“You’re evicting the Serpents!?”

“It was an order by the Mayor-”

“You mean your girlfriend!” I growled and narrowed my eyes at him.

“There’s a lot of back rent Y/N, it’s about time they get out of here anyway.” I stood up and walked to the door.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He shouted at me.

“Away from here!” I shouted back and slammed the door behind me. I ran to the Wyrm and once I got there I was out of breath. Toni, Fangs, Jughead, and Sweet Pea noticed me and motioned me to come over.

“Did you know about this?” Jughead asked annoyed.

“I had no idea! If I did don’t you think I would have told you?” I answered. Loud footsteps rang through the bar and everyone turned to look at the stage. FP stood up there looking just as unhappy as everyone else.

“We all got the eviction notices, but I swear to you No one is goin' anywhere. But the heat's been on us since Pickens Day and they're using that damn statue as an excuse to turn it up. But if we're gonna fix this, I gotta ask: Is anyone in this room responsible for cutting off Pickens' head?” He asked loudly.

“Why don't you ask your son what he has to say?” Tall Boy called out.

“What is your problem with me, Tall Boy?” Jughead asked annoyed.

“You wrote the article that started this mess. You and your posse fired the opening shot at Pickens Day.”

“It was a peaceful protest, Turncoat.” Toni said sassily.

“That accomplished nothing. So what's to say that you and your boyfriend didn't go back that night with a ladder and hacksaw-”

“Hey!” Jughead shouted and got in his face.

“We didn't do it. Hell, Tall Boy, you're the tallest guy in this room. You wouldn't even need a ladder.” Jughead accused.

“Sweet Pea is dating the Sheriff’s daughter, how do we know she didn’t do it to set us up!” Tall Boy growled.

“She wouldn’t do that!” Jughead said before Sweet Pea could say anything, he did pulled me closer to him though.

“Jughead Tall Boy, the last thing we need right now is to turn on each other.” FP announced breaking the two up. Jughead turned back to us and we walked away.

We spent some time trying to get our minds off the situation at hand but it wasn’t entirely successful. Jughead ended up going home early because he was too frustrated.

“Hey, Quinny, shouldn’t you be getting home too?” Fangs asked and I shook my head.

“I do not want to go home, I really can’t deal with a fight tonight.” I said.

“So where are you gonna sleep?” Toni asked confused.

“I’ll text Betty or Veronica or something.” I shrugged.

“You can stay at my place.” Sweets said. I smiled up at him and nodded.

“I’d love to.” He smiled then lifted me up over his shoulder.

“Then let’s get home!” He said and made his way outside.

“I’ll drop some clothes off for you in the morning!” Toni shouted and I smiled back at her.

We got outside and Sweet Pea put me on his bike, he handed me a helmet and I put it on. He got on and started it up, with in seconds we were on the road. The drive to his trailer was short which I was sad about since I loved riding on his bike. Sweets got off and took both our helmets off, then once again, picked me up. He took me inside and dropped me on his bed. He walked up to his closet, taking off his shirt and began looking through it. Once he found what he was looking for he turned around and tossed it to me. It was on of his flannels and I smiled.

“Do you want me to leave the room or…?”He asked while taking off his pants. Instead of answering him I just got up and stripped down to my bra and underwear. Before I could put the shirt on Sweet Pea came up behind me and his hands started trailing over my body. They made their way up too my boobs and he gently groped them. I gasped at the feeling and arched my back causing my ass to grind into Sweet Pea’s member. He groaned and began kissing my neck. It started off as sweet kisses but quickly became hungry, nibbling kisses. I moaned, never have I felt this good before. Sweet Pea turned me around and picked me up. I wrapped my legs around him and he placed me on my back on the bed. Our lips connected and it was a passionate, hungry kiss. Sweets started grinding against my clothed core and I moaned into his mouth. His hands traveled to my back and unclipped my bra. He grabbed it and tossed it to the floor. He kissed down my jaw to my breast and gently took one of my nipples in his mouth. I moaned when he began to suck on it and pinching the other with his hand. I arched my back making me grind against him. Sweet Pea moaned and the vibrations made my nipple harder. He kissed his was back up to my lips and moved his hand down to my underwear. He slid his hand in but I stopped him and pulled away.

“Sweets, wait.” I breathed and he looked down at me confused.

“I’ve never done this before…” I said with a blush and looked away. He pulled his hand out and brought my face to look at him.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He whispered.

“I’m sorry…” I said and he just smiled rolling over to his side. He got up and grabbed my bra and his flannel. He handed them both to me and I put them on. Sweet Pea got back into bed and pulled me to him, kissing my head.

“You don’t have to be sorry, just know that when you’re ready I’ll be here.” He whispered and I smiled up at him.

“I love you.” I whispered.

“I love you too.” He whispered back and connected our lips.

The next morning Sweet Pea cooked breakfast and Toni and Fangs came over. As promised Toni brought me some clothes and makeup. I thanked her then went to get dressed.

She decided to give me a very Toni outfit, it was a pair of black ripped skinny jeans, a bralette, sheer polka dot shirt to go over it, and I wore the boots I wore yesterday . I wanted to add some color so I did a blue and black smokey eye with a wing and a bold blue lip.

I walked out and the three Serpents looked at me. Toni smirked while Sweet Pea and Fangs stared at me shocked. Toni walked up and hugged me.

“Close your mouths boys, you’re drooling.” Toni said still smirking. Sweet Pea walked over to me and pulled me to him.

“Looks like I’ll have to keep an eye on you today.” I giggled and shook my head. The three of us drove to the Wyrm to hang out, since it was the weekend.

Everything was normal and fine until Tall Boy walked in with Penny Peabody… The whole bar went silent and everyone stared at them. Sweet Pea pulled me behind him and growled. Tall Boy, FP and Penny sat down at a table and everyone gathered around. Sweet Pea kept me close to him the whole time. It was a few minutes later when Jughead walked in with a poster.

“All right, order of the Ophidians.” He said then turned to look at everyone.

“Jughead Jones. Did you really think you'd see the last of me?” Penny asked with a smirk.

“What's the Snake Charmer doing here? Dad?” Jug asked but FP looked lost in his thoughts.

“No, I brought her in, to help us.” Tall Boy said with a smirk.

“We don't need Penny's kind of help.”

“You don't get a say anymore. Since you broke Serpent law and hurt one of our own kind. Penny was about to tell your dad. Show him, Penny. Show 'em all.” Tall Boy said and Penny rolled up her sleeve, slamming her arm on the table. A huge scar that was about the size of her forearm.

“Oh my god…” I whispered and turned away. Sweet Pea held me to him but I tried to push away, he just held me closer.

“That used to be my Serpent tattoo, until your son sliced a chunk outta my arm and left me bleeding in a ditch in Greendale.” Penny said.

“But I'm still willing to help the Serpents. Tall Boy showed me those eviction notices. They're legit. Luckily, I can think of about 41 ways to stall the process. And I'm talking years.” She added and I turned around with wide eyes.

“What's your price, Penny?” FP asked.

“Blood for blood. An eye for an eye. I want back in with the Serpents and I want him kicked out.” Everyone stared at her and FP leant back in his chair.

“Oh, yeah, one last thing I want his tattoo carved off. And I want to do it myself. With a dirty knife.” Penny said and I went to object but Sweet Pea covered my mouth. FP sent his son out of the bar. Sweet Pea, Toni, and Fangs pulled me out.

“Are we just gonna let this happen?” I asked.

“No, but there’s nothing we can do right now.” Toni said.

“You need to go home, it’s not safe for you here right now.” Fangs said.

“Like hell I’m going home!” I shouted.

“Fangs’ is right, you need to go home babe.” Sweet Pea said.

“But-”

“No, I’ll take you home.” He said and picked me up.

“Sweet Pea put me down!” I said and pounded against his back.

“Y/N, listen to me, you need to go home where I know you’re safe!” He said scolding me. He looked seriously at me and I sighed giving in. He gave me the helmet and we drove off. He dropped me off at the end of my block like always. I got off and handed him and started walking away when Sweet Pea pulled me back and turned me to face him.

“I just want you safe…” He said quietly.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know but I was a part of what happened to Penny and I don’t want her to hurt you.” He said moving a piece of hair behind my ear. I sighed and nodded.

“I know…” I sighed. Sweets tilted my head up and placed his lips on mine We pulled apart and he let me go.

“I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.” I said back and he drove off. I jogged to my house and walked in. Kevin and my dad were at the table and when they heard me come in they rushed towards me.

“Where have you been?” My dad asked more worried than mad.

“I stayed at a friends place…”

“I’m just happy you’re safe.” He sighed relieved that I was finally home.

“You two get some sleep, you have Veronica’s party tomorrow.” My dad said and the two of us went up stairs. I changed into my pjs and went to bed.

The next day Kevin and I got dressed for the party thing. Kevin wore a nice suit and I wore a black dress with black heels, I also put on some heart earrings my mom gave me and an infinity necklace to match. For makeup I did a simple eye with a wing and a glitter cut crease, then for lips I did a pink nude color. Kevin drove us to the church and we walked inside meeting up with our friends.

Once it started we all took our seats and Josie walked up to the front. She began singing. Veronica walked down the aisle also singing. Once she got to the front the two of them stood next to each other and sang together. We watched Veronica renounce satan or whatever then we all went to party. Kevin and I talked with Betty and just kinda sat around. Jughead and Betty had come up to me saying they were leaving.

“Is this about Penny? Is Sweet Pea okay?” I asked worried.

“He’s fine and yeah it’s about Penny kinda.” Jughead said.

“I’m coming with you.” I said standing up.

“Y/N, no.” he said stopping me.

“Jughead, I may be a Northsider but the Serpents are my family and I am not gonna let them vote you out and hurt you.” I said standing my ground. The two looked at each other and sighed.

“Okay, let’s go.” I followed them out and sent a quick text to Kevin saying I was leaving.

Jughead dropped me off at the Wyrm and I waited outside. Betty and Jughead went to go check up on their lead they got on the head. I could hear them voting on weather Jughead should stay or not.

An hour later Jughead and Betty returned along with FP. Jughead was holding the missing the head and he had a pretty big smirk on his face. I smiled at them and followed them inside.

“Stop the damn vote.” FP shouted making Tall Boy turn around. FP grabbed him and tossed him in a chair. I walked over to Sweet Pea and he pulling me to him.

“What the hell were you doing at the dump last week, Tall Boy?” FP asked.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Tall Boy said.

“I'm talkin' about you cutting the head off the Pickens' statue and stashing it at the dump where you were seen, dumbass. So start spilling!” FP growled.

“Why'd you do it? Someone put you up to this?” Jughead asked.

“What's the Northsiders doing here? This is Serpent business, it's on Serpent land.” Tall Boy growled.

“They’re here because they’re one of us.” Jughead answered and I smiled up at Sweet Pea.

“You haven't answered my son's question: Why'd you do it?” FP shouted.

“'Cause I'm tired of seeing the Serpents goin' soft under your rule. Then Hiram Lodge came by, wanting to stir up some trouble. He said if I took the head, he'd get McCoy and the cops to swarm all over us, 'cause some chaos.” Tall Boy answered.

“So Hiram Lodge asked you to start a mutiny and you helped him, why?” Jug asked.

“I figured it'd be my chance to get rid of you, sunshine. And if I got rid of him, I could get rid of you, too, FP.” He said and everyone looked at him pissed.

“And then, what, you'd become leader?” FP asked walking behind him.

“He and Penny. You're a Judas, Tall Boy, and an idiot. Jug said.

“You betrayed your own kind, Tall Boy. You broke Serpent Law. What should we do with this lowlife?” FP shouted.

“Strip him of his jacket. Exile him.” His son answered.

“All those in favor.” Everyone including Betty and I raised our hands. FP laughed and got next to Tall Boy’s ear.

“Looks like this piece of trash and I got a long ride ahead of us.” After that FP took Tall Boy out of the bar and everyone cheered. Sweet Pea pulled me to him and kissed me with a smile on his lips.

“Y/N you should probably get home, it’s late and after yesterday I’m sure your dad is keeping tabs on you.” I sighed and nodded. Sweet Pea took me home again and Kevin walked downstairs.

“Where’d you go?” Kevin asked.

“I went with Betty and Jughead somewhere.” Kevin just nodded. I walked into my room and went to bed.

Tag list: @54fangirl @southsidehufflepuff @xrosesareredx @cvvlxx @skeletalwolfcat @demigodofthesun @depressed-octopods-art @nalayrene @yourfavouritefuckup @staygoldsquatchling02 @sataninsatin @im-socialy-awkward-no-joke @dark-night-sky-99 @aframeofbones @fly-slytherin-queen @jojokoko0717 @nixdunbarhale @wanderlust-and-poetry @theyouthfulmoon @seasiren96 @nixdunbarhale2 @misskarynie @emo-godess-loves-you @serpent-stan  @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @cuddlememerrick  @blueandgoldaus @southsidefandoms @hiya-imthatgirl

[wendynerdwrites]

500 Elephants

Prompt by @drilling4mana​ "Against the backdroppe of a worlde gone madde"

I see you, Honey. Enjoy your Discworld AU.

“Get up on the box, Snow!”

Jon fumes. He does that a lot these days. In between bouts of wondering what he’s even doing here, why he came to Summerwood in the first place, and why he’s still here.

Every moment of this is demeaning. He stands out in the hot sun, holding a cheap wooden sword, dressed like an idiot, acting like a fool with exaggerated expressions and motions, for twelve hours a day at least, while people either shout at him to do things or attack him with brushes and sponges to keep him “camera-ready.”

At least with this picture, at least, the “hero” he is playing is not a knight or centurion or some other type of warrior that requires heavy metal armor. That’s agony. In this, he’s a pirate king with a ridiculous name and linen, wool, and leather for his attire.

They produce these so rapidly, sometimes at the same time, with them shooting scenes for one film for two hours, then a costume change to shoot a scene for an entirely different film. Mr. Baelish keeps the audience in by churning them out by the dozens. In the three months Jon’s been a “star”, he honestly has lost count of how many pictures he’s made.

Now they want him to stand on a box for this scene in the seraglio of the evil prince that his dashing pirate hero was to rescue his lady love from.

“Why, though, Marsh?” Jon asks the director. “Aren’t I supposed to be fighting? I can’t do that standing on a box.”

“We’re shooting the big kiss scene right now, and you have to be taller than Sansa.”

Jon cringes. These scenes are always awkward. “But I’m already taller than Sansa!”

Not by much, true. Sansa is the second tallest woman he’s ever met, after Brienne. But the brevity of their height difference was never an issue before.

Marsh sighs, looks from behind the camera, and rolls his eyes. “I know, but Baelish says he wants you even taller. He says this picture is our first color feature and so it has to be more epic than anything we’ve done before. Everything bigger, and that includes you. Also, he doesn’t want people comparing the height difference between you and Sansa to the one between Oberyn and Sansa. He says the hero has to seem as tall as the villain or no one will believe that you’re man enough to fight your way through a world gone mad.”

It doesn’t take Jon even half a second to realize the obvious gaps in logic here. Oberyn is much taller than him, true. And they can put Jon atop as many boxes as they want, but…

“What about when we’re fighting?” Jon asks, “I can’t fight Oberyn properly atop a step stool. How do you intend to hide our height difference when we’re moving around together?”

Marsh groans. “You know, I think the glamor is going to your head, Snow. You didn’t ask so many questions before.”

Glamor. Ha! Jon is still sleeping on the lake shore.

He stares Marsh down coldly, who reluctantly relents. “We’re making boots with lifts in them right now. They’ll be ready tomorrow.”

“But---”

“----Jon, would you just get on the box, please?!”

Everyone turns towards the costuming tent a few yards away.

Emerging from it is Sansa, whose appearance renders Jon speechless before he can think to reply. His co-star is bedecked in a style that Baelish has dubbed “Dornish concubine” (much to Oberyn’s annoyance). It comes with gaudy gold and amethyst jewelry consisting of a collar, arm bands, a circlet, anklets, chandelier earrings, bangles, and a bracelet that Baelish calls a “slave bracelet” and Oberyn angrily insists is called a “Haath Phool”.

Her bosom is practically erupting out of a bustier of midnight and gold brocade that stops just under her breasts and has a line of coins hanging off the underwire. A long, pleated matching skirt hangs low in her hips. Two generous slits crawl up the front so that no matter how she stands, at least one of her long legs peeks out. Indeed, as Sansa marches out in her curly-toed slippers, Jon gets to see the full length of the slits, which go all the way to the coined belt and reveal enough for the costumers to apparently to make Sansa some matching pantalets.

But, for modesty’s sake, she has a veil that still reveals her lush auburn hair that tumbles about her shoulders in gleaming waves.

Her march out brings noise. Her ornate garments jingle like bells with every moment and then there are the onlookers, who wolf-whistle and shout out comments that make Jon’s blood boil. He’s going to kill Baelish. The man has been throwing Sansa into racy outfits since he hired her, but this is beyond anything.

She looks less like the average Dornish woman Jon has met, and more like a brothel girl serving a man with a desert fetish.

Sansa ignores the cheering men, her blue eyes fixed on Jon. She comes up close and pokes his chest. “Listen to me, Targaryen,” she says his real name like it’s an accusation, “I have only so much time I can spend out in this sun, and only so much time I can tolerate this ridiculous costume. I want this scene done quick and without incident, so listen to the man and get on the box.”

Jon sighs and, feeling like a fool, steps atop the small wooden crate.

“Maybe it should be the broad directing instead,” remarks Pyp, one of the grips, “It seems like she’s the one who can get things done. Put her in the jodhpurs and the director’s chair and Marsh here in the skirt.”

“Shut up!” Marsh snaps, clearly embarrassed. He sits back in her chair and glares. “Alright, Snow, you’ve just finished killing off Prince Silvaad’s Fifty Thieves single-handedly to steal back your beloved Princess Esmeralda. After weeks of separation and danger, you two are finally reunited, and you embrace her passionately. Sansa, you were stolen by the thief-prince and have been held captive for weeks. You were hours away from being forced to wed the villain. You’ve heard the fighting outside, but didn’t think too much of it before because you’ve become used to your captor fighting someone. But this time, the fighting has gotten much too close to the harem tent. You’ve bravely ventured out from the tent while your maids cower inside, holding a knife, intending to defend yourself if necessary. But to your shock, it’s not one of the prince’s barbarian rivals raiding the camp, but your long-lost love, the Pirate King Flynn Saber---”

Jon and Sansa exchange an incredulous look. When they first saw the script and saw that name, they’d said, in unison, “Really?!” Baelish truly was amplifying everything with their first color picture, including the ridiculousness of the names. Past characters Jon has played were named things like, “Man Without a Moniker”, “Renaldo Gable”, and “Jack Hawke”. But this name is as swollen and exaggerated as Sansa’s bosom.

Marsh pauses when he sees the look they share. “--- Pirate King Flynn Saber. You thought you’d never see him or home ever again. You are so overcome that you swoon right into his arms. Jon, you catch her and kiss her, dipping her back, the usual fare. Sansa, you come to as he kisses you, and, thrilled, you wrap your arms about his neck and close your eyes again. Got it?”

“Yes, but I wanted to point something out,” Sansa states, “If Jon is supposed to have just finished fighting fifty thieves, shouldn’t he be sweating?”

Marsh groans. “Someone get some water!”

A basin is brought and Sansa dabs him with a soaking cloth across his forehead. It’s actually kind of nice in this heat…

Then she undoes some of the lacings of his tunic, exposing his chest.

“What are you doing?!”

Sansa looks up at him. “If I have to expose everything short of my nipples, then it’s only fair that you show a couple inches of skin.”

She has a point. Jon says nothing. If he’d been told last night that Sansa would be pulling his shirt open, he’d have been thrilled. But this hypothetical past him should have known it would be in this context.

Jon spends a lot of time wondering why he came to Summerwood, and, most of all, why he stays. Then Sansa will walk by and he’ll remember the answer to his second question.

It’s yet another miserable irony of his life that he kisses her on a near-daily basis, but have it be in the least romantic circumstances possible. It’s agony. Still, every time he does kiss her, he finds himself hoping that this time, with this one, he’ll somehow communicate to her that it isn’t fake, that there’s something real.

“Good,” Marsh says critically. “Where’s Sansa’s knife?”

An assistant produces a dagger and takes the water and rag from the actress.

“Excellent. Alright, Sansa, get in the tent. Jon, get your sword out. Let’s get going!”

Sansa ducks under the set tent. Jon pulls the stupid fake blade from its holster and raises it above his head and begins breathing deep.

“Ready! Set! Action!”

Sansa charges out of the tent, fist clenched about the raised blade and a determined look on her face. Jon slowly lowers his sword, angry face softening, eyes widening. Sansa freezes for a moment, drops her knife, and covers her mouth. Jon re-holsters his blade as she staggers towards him. After four steps, she falls toward him, eyelids dropping.

At this point, Jon has caught a swooning Sansa at least a hundred times. She’s swooned in every picture they’ve done, sometimes more than once. She’s an expert at fainting, and Jon’s an expert at catching.

But something is off this time. Jon is used to catching her at his usual height, and there’s something off about Sansa’s movements as well. The act is a bit awkward as a result.

Marsh sees this and calls cut. Sansa groans.

“What was that?” Marsh demands. “You must have done this a hundred times! Sansa, what were you doing with your arms?”

Sansa straightens up, looking disgruntled. “Don’t blame me! It’s this!” She gestures to her bustier. “It already barely fits. If I move my arms too much, I could completely pop out!”

The crew looks over and starts gathering.

“Somebody get Sansa some tape or something!” Marsh shouts. “And Snow, why are you barely catching her?”

“I’m taller on this thing,” Jon says, tapping his toe against the box, “It’s upsetting the angle a bit.”

“Well, practice a bit!”

“Let me tape up first!” Sansa says as the material is brought. She ducks under the tent again. Everyone waits quietly and awkwardly. She eventually emerges, looking disoriented.

“Everything secure?” Marsh inquires in an acidic tone.

“I think so.”

“Okay, practice falling a bit until we’ve got it right.”

Thankfully, it only takes a few tries to get it right. Marsh calls for action again.

But this time, when Sansa falls, the tape and the bustier give way on the right side. Her right breast springs out as she falls. Jon barely manages to grab her in time, positioning his arm to block anything indecent from view. It seems only Jon sees it, thank the gods, as none of the crew reacts and not even Sansa seems to realize until Jon turns her body to face upward. Not wishing to humiliate her, Jon leans down and presses his lips to hers, blocking most of her upper body from view. Sansa’s arms wrap themselves around his neck, but she does something new: tangles her fingers in his dark curls.

“Thank you,” she whispers as their lips begin to part. Their faces remain close and they hold their pose, Jon trying to make sure Sansa doesn’t feel anything going on below his belt, until Marsh calls cut.

When the scene ends, Jon pulls her up so she faces him dead on, her modesty protected by their backs. Sansa hurriedly shoves her breast back into place. Both of them blush as Jon averts his eyes. He couldn’t help looking when he was maneuvering to conceal this… wardrobe malfunction… but he should be a gentleman now.

And what he has seen was glorious. It was only one, but gods… The rosy pink of her nipple against the cream of her skin, then way it seemed to burst free from the fabric, then jiggled as she landed in his arms. As Baelish and Marsh have crudely pointed out, Sansa has “The face of an angel and a body for bedchambers.” The woman looks like one of the paintings on the walls of the temple of the goddess Alohura in his hometown. The sort of perfect woman that Jon thought could only be a god and not a real, living person. Even his old sweetheart, Ygritte, had tangled hair and crooked teeth.

Despite the fact that until recently, Sansa spent half of her off-hours working at the diner to pay her rent, her hair never seemed to snag or tangle. She’d pin it up in a braided knot while waiting tables. Jon had the good fortune a few times to witness her releasing her tresses, and they always tumbled out gracefully, falling and spreading like a red waterfall. The messiest her hair ever got was whenever they had to do a scene where they moved fast, like riding on a horse or a few times when Jon had to hold her as he swung from ropes or vines. And even then, it only got rumpled in that exciting, sultry way.

Indeed, despite the absurd names and costumes and plot and sets and… well… everything… Jon is excited to be shooting a color picture. Thus far, all fans of Sansa Stark had witnessed only some of her beauty. This picture will be the first time they see her hair in color.

“Thank you so much,” she says again, quietly, “I think I’d die of shame if I exposed myself to all these people. And while the camera was rolling! Knowing Baelish, if they captured it, he’d probably have Marsh magnify and duplicate every frame and sell it in little brown envelopes on every corner of King’s Landing. I’d never be able to face anyone back home again. Mother already writes pages of complaints about my attire in her letters. And that’s when I’m not playing a tavern wench or an opera singer or something scandalous like that.”

“I don’t think Marsh got anything. Someone would have reacted. Your… Well, it was facing away from the camera when it came loose, and when you turned I already had my arm in place.”

“So you’re more than just a hero on script, then.”

Jon can’t help his grin. Before he can reply, though, Marsh comes over.

“Look, Kids,” he says, rubbing his forehead, “I just inspected the footage and, well…”

Jon’s blood runs cold. Damn it. He’d failed. Marsh caught a shot.

The director reddens. “Look, I’m not usually one for major compliments, but I have to say that this scene is easily the best you two have done. You really are bringing your A-game to this picture if this scene is any indicator. San, you were even better than usual. And Jon… I barely recognized you. Never have you seemed so genuine before. I saw such true passion, desire, shock, fear, excitement. The way you stared and handled her… You appeared so fired up and stunned, but when you held her, you seemed to move so meticulously, and so protectively, but your eyes were so hungry. Fantastic energy there. I want to incorporate that into everything else. Flynn is all action and passion and roguishness, and he wants Esmeralda desperately, but even so, when he speaks to her, touches her, the roughness melts away and he’s as gentle and tender as a lamb. But, you know, a lamb that wants to get her into bed.”

“Uh, thanks,” Jon replies, purposely avoiding Sansa’s gaze, “I… I’ll try.”

“Marsh, can we see the footage? You know, so we might study the intensity of the performance and keep it going?” Sansa asks in an innocent tone.

The director shrugs. “Be my guest.”

They go over to the reel-viewer and watch it. And, thankfully, Jon is right: Sansa’s breast was not caught on camera.

“He’s right, you know,” Sansa remarks to him, “You really are good here. Maybe I should pop out of my top in every scene, eh?”

Jon goes redder than Sansa’s hair. “I… I…”

“It’s fine, Targaryen.” Now she says his real name like an affectionate nickname. “It’s not your fault. It’s Baelish’s, making me wear this nonsense.”

Jon steps back and purses his lips. At the mention of Baelish, his insides seem to harden. Jon hooks his thumbs at his sword belt and gestures with his head towards the large oak tree twenty yards away. No one was there.

Sansa nods and they head over, well away from earshot.

“Um, Sansa, I know it’s probably none of my business, but… well… I hope you never feel forced to… compromise anything… for Baelish. He’s not an honorable man, and he seems to have a certain fixation with you. And, well, word gets around. Not that I was gossiping, but you can’t help but hear things. If he tries anything---”

“---Jon, have I told you about Lady?”

“Huh? No. Lady Who?”

“Lady. My… dog. She’s a giant wolfhound. Enormous. She’s why I don’t agree to have anyone here walk me home. She runs through the woods all day and heads for the studio gates each night to walk with me. I’ve introduced Baelish to Lady. And he knows that if he doesn’t keep his hands to himself, that he’ll be chased down by an enormous hound and have his Littlefinger bitten off. He done anything more than make some lewd comments and insist on some absurd costumes. And ask me to have dinner with him. He is determined to have me. He likes to think himself a sophisticated gentleman, and wants to charm me, seduce me. Even when I was honest with him about how that will never happen, he didn’t care. He’d just decided to ‘change my mind.’ But he’ll never force anything on me, because he knows the consequences. I’ll admit, though…” Sansa crosses her arms over her exposed ribs.

“Like I said, he won’t listen to me when I tell him it’s hopeless. So I gave up on that. And, well, I figure that if he’s going to try anyways, I might as well use it. I don’t lie to him, or do anything for him, but, well…” She blushes. “I have pretended to warm up to him a bit. It’s why I haven’t refused his costume ideas. He wants to gain some relief and consolation by seeing me parade around in a slave girl costume? Fine. He likes me to stay super pale? Alright, I avoid the sun. He wants me to have at least one fainting spell per flick? No issue. I keep him just happy enough, and now I don’t have to spend half my waking hours at the diner anymore and can get a full night’s sleep. I don’t have to worry about being kicked out of my boarding house for late rent. I got myself a proper tent to change in so that I don’t have half the crew gawking at me. Marsh isn’t allowed to bully me. I eat regularly. I got away with demanding a living wage from the studio, some control over my work, and some protection because I let Baelish drool over pictures of my cleavage whenever he wants. We both know that if he ever tries to stick part of himself inside me, that he’ll lose that part of himself, and many others.”

Jon licks his lips and swallows. “I… I see. But what do you think he’ll do when… if… another man enters your life.”

Sansa snorts. “Oh, he’d completely lose it. But that’s hardly an issue. I don’t have the time or the wherewithal for that sort of thing anyways. I spend nearly every waking hour on set, pretending to swoon.”

“But surely you want---”

“---Ugh, you sound like my mother,” she groans, leaning back against the tree trunk, “Quite frankly, Jon, no, I don’t. At least, not right now. I’ve been given the opportunity to be a star in the most exciting thing to happen on Disceros in centuries. Everyone has been flocking to Summerwood for just a taste of this business. People are clawing at each other for a chance to empty the spitoons in a producers’ office. But we’re at the very center of it all. Even better, we’re on track to becoming essential. A few weeks ago, we could easily be replaced by the hundreds of other pretty young people waiting in the wings. But now? Now we’re not two of many. We’re Jon Snow and Sansa Stark, the stars people pay money to see. Before long, they’ll need us more than we need them, because we’ll be the reason they sell tickets. We’ll be the deciding factors in whether or not their pictures make money. They won’t be able to replace us. They’ll have to fight to keep us from wandering to another studio that offers a better deal. And all that while, we’re going to be among the first legends here. We’re being immortalized. We’ll be able to say we were there way back when. Right now, we’re young and good-looking and energetic. Eventually, we’ll both start to wane a bit, and there will be new stars, yes. But that’s why I intend to focus everything on making sure my star burns the brightest while it’s still hot. That I make my mark and stake some claims, make my fortune so that when the day comes that the audiences tire of me, I can just bow out gracefully, retire in comfort, and get on with my life. Then I can worry about husbands and family if I wish. But if I throw everything into this and play my cards right now, get what I need, I’ll be free to do as I wish forever more. So no, I don’t want to waste time with suitors and romance. I get enough of that faking it with you every day. All I want right now is to rise in this business.”

I’m not faking. But he doesn’t say that. “I see. That seems rather lonely, though.”

“I have Lady. And I have friends. Like you.” She smiles kindly. “I just don’t have a lover. And I don’t mind. I didn’t come here to fall in love.”

Jon’s stomach sinks. “You didn’t?”

“No, I came here for this, just like everyone else.”

“Not everyone. I didn’t come here for this.”

Sansa cocks her head. “Really? What else is there in Summerwood, though? What did you come here for?”

Jon looks at the ground. “I… I don’t know. I just sort of… Set off one day. And I felt this pull. I had to come here. Something was happening.”

“This. This is the thing that is happening.”

Jon shrugs. “Maybe I didn’t come here for something, but for someone.”

“Who?”

“I’m not sure.”

Sansa sighs. “Alright. Well… Lucky you, then. If you don’t have your heart set on this, then the business can’t break it.”

“Other things can, though.”

People can.

“Having fun, you two?”

Jon’s skin crawls at the sound of Baelish’s voice. The producer, green eyes glittering, approaches them, a rolled up piece of paper under his arm.

“Hello, Mr. Baelish,” Sansa says, pretending to be happy to see him. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Yes, yes… You two having fun making our masterpiece? Having…” He licks his lips. “...Too much fun, perhaps?”

Jon swallows the bile the rushes up from his stomach. “Hardly. We were just discussing this height thing. I have to admit, Baelish, it is throwing us off a bit. We’re used to working on literally a different level.”

Baelish’s eyes narrow. “Snow, you know what I wrote when you came in for your first audition?”

“Can’t sing. Can’t dance. Knows how to use a sword a little.” This man has told him this a thousand times. “But you still took a chance on me. And it’s paid off, hasn’t it?”

“Sansa’s carrying you.”

“And I’m carrying her. Literally, sometimes. But that’s why the box thing is so difficult.”

Baelish rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He starts unrolling the paper. “I just thought maybe you’d like to see the poster.”

“Poster? But we’ve only shot two scenes!” Sansa cries out.

“So?” Baelish turns the unrolled paper.

Jon wants to tip it to shreds. At least a third of the damn thing consists of Sansa’s bosom as she contorts her back. Jon’s face, in contrast, is barely visible.

SIEGE OF THE SERAGLIO FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FULL COLOR A PIRATE! A PRINCESS! 500 ELEPHANTS! SEARCHING FOR EACH OTHER AGAINST THE BACKDROPPE OF A WORLDE GONNE MADDE!

“We’re trying to find five hundred elephants as well?” Sansa inquires in a tone of false innocence. Jon has to choke back a laugh.

“No! That’s just to draw in the audience! You couldn’t possibly think---” He looks at the poster again. “Damn it!”

“And where are you going to get five hundred elephants, anyways?” Jon asks. Knowing Baelish, the man probably just planned on gluing a trunk and ears onto a gerbil.

“We’re getting one elephant, and just showing it run past over and over,” Baelish retorts, “It’ll be almost as big a hassle as getting those lifts put in your shoes.”

“That doesn’t---”

Baelish has already spun around and is marching away. The two actors exchange looks.

“Why does every picture of his have to be ‘against a backdrop of a world gone mad’?”

“Because he has to convince himself that it’s the world that’s crazy, not him.”

Jon snickers, then sighs. “Are you sure this is worth it, Sansa?”

She bristles. “At least I’m not doing it for nothing!”

Jon smiles at her sass. “Oh, I’m not doing it for nothing, Love, I assure you.”

[idoldanshi]

Idol Danshi 2nd Chapter: The School is the Worst place to find Potential idols, Maybe

He didn't even need Kou to point out Park Min-jun, he already stood out in the middle of the crowd of people that surrounded him. Well, standing out would be a wrong expression; hoards of squealing girls and hollering boys clapping his back practically swallowed him. Nonetheless, the looks that made him so popular shown vibrantly amongst the crowd. Luscious, wheat-coloured hair cascaded down his shoulders in a loose ponytail, his gym attire altered to look fashionable with a v-neck collar and short shorts. When he stretched, his clothes rode up to show off flawless skin.Hachi sighed in the back of his mind. So he was one of those types of people. Stunning, flawless looks and hung around many people, loved by all. Perfect. Sure, that was the ideal idol, but see, Hachi was not an ideal idol, nor would ever become one. Those types seemed like a faraway, foreign alien species to him that he never wanted contact with. Well, he'd give it to Kou for the effort. Still, his overall aura demanded that people around him be captivated by him, an infinite charm that Hachi resolved was worth getting into his group in that day.

"I have this period with 1-D, so I'll be going now." Kou waved farewell to him and ran off towards a boy with violet highlights in his hair. The gym teacher entered the hall accompanied by students pushing... Were those gymnastic mats?

"Mornin' class. Today we're continuing with last week's gymnastics class. So find your partners from last week and grab a mat." Everyone began shuffling around to their partners, chatting loudly, Before he knew it he was left standing alone.

Along with Park Min-jun, whose eyes were darting around frantically searching for a nonexistent partner and looking unnerved by the situation. It wasn't before long that the teacher realised that too."Min-jun, Hachi," she said, pointing to each of them. "Both of you weren't here last week, so pair up with each other." Min-jun swung towards where the teacher pointed at Hachi and stared at him. His mildly confused expression gave away that he had not been aware of the other's existence until then.

Hachi decided to take the initiative to walk over to him with a mat.

"I've never seen you before" Min-jun's eyes swept up and down his body and gave him one of those judging looks that Hachi thought only scrutinising aunts were capable of making. He shot him a pointed look.

"I haven't been to school in a while. I got retained a year." Hachi replied coolly, laying out the mat. He was way too used to this kind of questions by nosy relatives.

"So your brains are as scrambled as how you look," His eyebrows rose and his lips twisted into a condescending sneer.

"I know, and I don't care," Hachi said with a sigh. Min-jun still hadn't dropped that look that honestly ruined the otherwise attractiveness of his face.

"Well, I don't talk to slobbish people," Min-jun said, laying down on the mat. Hachi sighed internally. Why did someone who possessed so much potential have to be so troublesome?

"Aren't you already talking to me now? Besides, I don't care." Min-jun blanched at Hachi's retort and glared at him.

"Just to let you know, PE is my strong subject. Don't get in my way" Min-jun finally managed to sputter out after a few moments of Hachi smirking silently at him.

"We'll see."

Their conversation that only furthered Hachi's internal resolution that Min-jun was really a popular stuck-up queen was interrupted by the teacher yelling instructions about the class. Apparently, they had to hit a certain number of sit-ups as fast as they could, and the increasing range of numbers were ranked from the highest A to the lowest D.

Min-jun was already crawling onto the mat before the teacher finished the instructions. "Hurry up." He snapped at Hachi, laying down.

Hachi put his knees on his shoes and shortly after that, the teacher started the timer. Immediately there was an immense resistance against his knees as Min-jun powered through his sit-ups.

The mental counter in his head sped along until even though they were only one minute into the exercise he was almost done. Some of the negative energy in Hachi's mind faded. He had to give it to Min-jun, he was indeed very strong. He had never felt such intense strength and Min-jun's steely expression didn't seem to be fading. At least that's what he thought.

Was it just his imagination or was the pressure on his knees decreasing? Drips of sweat forming on the sides of Min-jun's face and his breathing became more laboured. His movements had become slower and his face had deepened into a red flush.

"Dude, are you okay?" Hachi questioned after Min-jun let out a worrisome cough.

"I'm fine!" He snapped back, clearly not fine as he could barely get up from the ground. "Only a few more to go," Hachi encouraged, and Min-jun tried to continue, but failed. He laid back and panted heavily, all energy seemingly spent.

Aha, so stamina was the all pristine ruler's weakness.

Around them, classmates were almost starting to finish up. Min-jun's eyes darted around worryingly and tried to pull himself up.

"You don't have to do so many you know," Hachi said as Min-jun tried once again in vain to get up. "Shut up. Someone like you won't understand." He said the last few words in between pants as he finally managed to pull himself to do one more. Wow, so turns out he wants to save his face. Still, it was obvious did not have any power left in him to get through the last few at this rate. His pupils were dilating, his eyes unconsciously closing. Hair once glossy stuck to his face and shoulders from sweat. His breath was falling short, and thinking quickly, Hachi made a decision.

"Teach! Min-jun is done! Grade A!"

Min-jun looked at him with his eyes wide in surprise, but the other students didn't notice anything off and instead oohed and aahed at his fast completion. Even the teacher didn't seem surprised and just nodded in comprehension.Coughing heavily, he hesitated at Hachi's outreached hand, but Hachi didn't wait for a response and pulled him up.

"What was that about?" Min-jun inquired. Min-jun stared him incredulously, mouth agape like a fish.

"Let's make a bet. If I beat you in these sit-ups, I win some of your time and you have to listen to me." Min-jun looked skeptical, but with a huff, he said, "Fine! You have a deal. As if you can."Hachi smirked the first time in a long while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The results didn't even need to announced.

Hachi nearly burst out laughing at the sight of Min-jun's indignant face. Red had coated his cheeks and made them look puffed up, and he looked like he was about to explode any moment. Without saying a word, he grabbed Hachi's phone and took out his own, and when Hachi got it back, it had a new contact saved into it as well as a note.

Hachi blinked, surprised at what it read.

"Meet me at the Okatani at 3 pm this Saturday." Attached to the text was a link to the location of this place, yet Hachi had no idea where that was. The directory described the place to be a traditional tea house that also functioned as an inn.

"The Hill Valley?" Curiously, the name Okatani was formed by the Japanese kanji for those two characteristics, 岡谷. Why on earth such a contrasting name?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hachi now knew exactly how the Okatani got its name now, unfortunately.

The Okatani was situated in a valley hollowed out from a singular hill. That meant no access from the ground, and overgrown grass covered the slopes that surrounded it. In the middle was a dusty street with small old shops, and at the corner was a little tea house with a large cloth banner in front with the characters "岡谷". Behind it stood the tallest building on the street which was the three-storey inn that the inn was attached to.

Annoyingly, it took him forever to climb the hill and by the time he made it to the little inn, it was already 3. Maybe later. He had been climbing so long, his mind had lost the concept of time. His legs ached, and so for what seemed the hundredth time since he started climbing, under his breath, he cursed Min-jun and his ridiculous taste in out of the way places.

Pushing past the cloth banner and the glass door behind it, he entered the quaint little structure, the fragrant aroma of tea wafting to his nose, and for a while, it calmed just a little bit of his spirit. Bamboo made up the interior walls and the warmness in contrast with the cold winter outside formed the cosiest atmosphere. Smoke from the contact of hot steam and cold air curled around. The smell of something delicious cooking instantly created a hunger that had not been present moments before.

"You're late," Min-jun rose from the waiting bench dressed up in a disgustingly pretentious heavy traditional light blue robe. He had the absolutely most infuriating smug smirk poorly hidden behind his raised sleeve, his voice laced with condescension. 
That prompted the start of Hachi's habit to be at least half an hour early to every appointment."Ah! Young master Park! I see your guest has arrived!" A cheery voice sounded from the kitchen, and a waiter in his mid-twenties popped up clutching a menu. Turning to Hachi, he continued, "My name is Chouna Sawahara, and I'm the son of the owner of this tea house and inn. Park here is a welcomed guest of this establishment, and this privilege extends to you too. This way, the two of you!" He guided the two of them towards the main room.

Groups of elderly and families packed the main room enjoying tea and a large variety of colourful tasty looking treats. Tatami mats covered the floor and the customers sat on cushions on the floor before low coffee tables. Along the way, they shouted orders at Chouna for orders of second helpings, third helpings, some even fourth, and Chouna replied them all. Hachi had to admire waiters and their extensive memory.

Chouna eventually led them into a private room right at the back that opened using a paper sliding door. The interior of this room, much unlike the humble appearance of the main hall, was decorated with artsy paintings, skilful sculptures, and banners of beautiful calligraphy. Luxurious velvet cushions were laid out on the floor before a large table meant to hold plentiful food. A fancy chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room below.

Min-jun, looking utterly unfazed by the spectacular display as if it were no more than a daily occurrence, took a seat in a pile of cushions on one end, the thick heavy layers of his sky blue robe fanning out beneath him like a flower. Hachi not as gracefully settled himself into the other pile.

"Well then, Chouna, I'll trust for you to bring me the usual"

"Right away sir," with that, Chouna disappeared into another door that seemingly led to the kitchen.

They sat in silence for a moment. Min-jun seemed pleased for the first time ever and did not look like he would appreciate being interrupted in the cozy atmosphere.

"So…about what we wanted to talk about…" Hachi broke the silence.

"Shh. It's going to start soon." Min-jun held out a hand to silence him. Hachi was about to retort what in the world he was talking about when it happened.

The sweetest melodious singing poured from the kitchen. Much like an enhanced version of the calming effect that the Okatani had, Hachi felt all the worries and tension he didn't even know he had leave his body. Hachi recognised the tune to be a traditional folk song, but the sound was so beautiful the scratchy voice of the original elderly male singer sounded worlds apart.

The two didn't even realise when the singing stopped and the door slid open, too immersed in the after-effects of the music. Out came a server carrying a platter of pots, cups and tea leaves, face covered by a veil.

Wordlessly, the platter was set before them on the table. The tea server gave them a hint of a warm smile under the veil and begun the tea ceremony.

Hachi wasn't very familiar with the upper-class posh tea ceremony, tea so far had been something gulped down after a tiring midnight practice session, but apparently, the crockery had to be arranged in a certain pretentious manner or the ceremony would be ruined. The tea server did what should have been a mediocre task with extreme importance, gingerly performing each task with utmost focus.

At last, when everything had been prepared, steaming cups of tea were placed before each of them and the tea server bowed out of the room.

Hachi took the cup with both hands and took a sip. Steam wafted into his face and it seemed like all was at peace. There was definitely something he was disregarding…

"Right, about what I wanted to tell you today…" Hachi looked up from his tea.

"Yeah?" Min-jun looked mildly annoyed now that the topic for discussion had been brought to the table.

Hachi explained his plans to him, and Min-jun's face cringed, his face twisting into rather interesting formations of expressions.

“Oh my... Sorry, but no way. I’m way too expensive to do something of that nature. You’ve got to try harder than that,” Min-jun popped a powdered mochi into his mouth. 

“But...” His looks were perfect. Where else was Hachi going to find someone like that? And his body was conditioned to do exercise pretty well.

"Let me make myself clear. I am not at all interested in what you are suggesting, I never will, and to think you even considered I would do so is a magnificent error of judgment on your part.  I will never associate with someone who gets involved in such immorality and self-centredness!"

There were sudden loud footsteps and Min-jun took a breather from his rant. "Ah, that must be the food," he said, sitting back on his fort of cushions. Right on cue, both doors burst open. Standing at the door to the kitchen was indeed the server with a platter of hot steaming food. However, at the other door was an uninvited guest, whom Hachi knew was not wanted precisely because he looked like the exact example of someone who lacked basic values and acted on his own selfish wants.

The male was a gross pig of a man all appearances considered. A lit cigar stuck out of the corner of the corner of his mouth, the smoke it emitted stinking its way to Hachi's nose. His face was red and sweating profusely, much like a melting tomato. His pudgy body was squashed into a suit obviously too small for him, squeezing his stomach like a cage with an expanding balloon inside it. With the cigar still inside his mouth, his face contorted with anger, he bellowed, 

"Park Min-jun! I've been looking for you!"