#ill probably write something

[barrel-crow-n]

Margit

So we know that Kaz killed Filip symbolically, with the key to a wind up dog shoved down his throat - the same dogs that Filip used to lure Kaz and Jordie into the con.

In my head, this makes it clear that Kaz had to have done it with the others, too. Why would he do it with only one of them?

Saskia's cause of death is obvious. The ribbon. Kaz strangled her with it, because it was the thing he most associated with her.

But what about Margit? She fed him hutspot. Did he suffocate her by holding her head down in food, or something? Torture her by pouring hot food on her?

[xxplastic-cubexx]

personal happiness or what the fuck ever

bonus:

[umblrspectrum]

updated some ref sheets and also actually made jcj one

[stars-obsession-pit]

“These adoption papers aren’t big enough for the two of us”

“You know we can just… get more, right? People can adopt more than once.”

“No, we must fight to the death for the position.”

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[losver07]

here's the marauders getting their newt results cause i am at a point where i do not want to receive my test markings lol

sirius: i don't want to open it. i will not open it. moons you do it, just don't tell me if it's bad

remus: but you'll know it's bad 'cause i won't say anything

sirius: oh so you assume it's going to be bad?

remus: um... no?

james: uuuugh guys come on it's just paper and ink. look, i'll go first okay?

james: *opens his envelope*

james: HEY THAT'S NOT FAIR

pete: oh god we're all going to die, we're all dead, what if i am dead and this is my punishment what did i do to deserve this it's because i didn't recycle that one time is it oh no oh no oh nononono

sirius: is it... is it that bad?

james: YES, it is. i got a B- charms, i think i'm going to cry

remus: B-! that's good! i was about to have a heart attack you dramatic prat

sirius: dramatic huh? go ahead moony, open yours

remus: oh you must be fucking dreaming honey, i will burn this paper down and throw myself into the fire with it before taking a look at it

sirius: want me to look for you?

remus: please

peter: look mine too sirius please i think i'm about to puke

[huckleberryblossom]

two more owls for my gogverse, queen selene and gladwyn! the current monarch of the great tree and elynora's lady in waiting, respectively

[vcepsis]

Saw this fantastic post from @thebigchoo and it would NOT leave me alone so I had to put my beautiful boy into a Situation. I've been going insane about JJK for the past few months so here is 3.5k of Gojo suffering!! Set in some kind of future AU where nothing bad happens <3

----

Satoru shifted against the chair, the thin felt covering doing nothing to stop the cheap plastic from digging into his back. Even with three layers on, he could feel every sharp, uneven edge, each dull bump and knob. 

Shifting again, his glasses fell just slightly down his nose, letting in the faintest beam of light from the overhead fluorescents. With a bitten off groan, he shoved them back against his eyes with more force than necessary, wincing as the headache spiked anew. 

This had been such a good idea–two weeks ago, when Suguru had first suggested it. He'd asked, then, if Satoru was interested in going with him to some mall in Tokyo with a new clothing store. And Satoru, ever ready to give his opinion on things, solicited or not, had happily agreed. Having Suguru as his own personal model to dress up had sounded like the perfect way to spend their day off. Of course, that had been before Satoru had managed to somehow catch the damn plague.

It had been over a week and things were not improving. Typically his immune system was better than this. He had hoped he'd be on the mend by now, but it had been so busy–his usual three hour, four a.m. nap had been cut to barely thirty minutes between missions. It wasn't surprising that he'd only managed to get worse.

Unfortunately, today was the only day their schedules lined up for a day off for another month. Suguru had offered to take a rain check that morning, frowning at the dark smudges under Satoru’s eyes and the skin rubbed raw around his nose, but Satoru had waved him off. It was fine. He was fine. 

Now, two train rides and three hours later, Satoru wished he'd taken the out when it was offered. 

Sniffling into the dark face mask–swiped from the infirmary on their way out; hopefully Shoko wouldn't mind–Satoru let his eyes flutter shut. Not that it helped; Six Eyes continued to feed him information, stimuli that was very much not asked for. They tended to act up when he was sick, either taking in too much or not enough. Today they were somehow doing both at the same time. The noise of the store pounded at his senses, and he was actually glad he couldn't smell anything–one less thing for his overstimulated brain to deal with.

Something in his chest shifted, and then he was coughing again, the sound ratty and violent. He pressed a shaking hand to his face mask, hoping to smother the sound–because Suguru did not need a reminder of just how sick Satoru was–but it was no use. They could probably hear him three stores down. He cringed at the thought.

Sensing Suguru’s cursed energy, he managed to sit up in time for the door to the changing room to open, Suguru stepping out. Part of the reason he'd invited Satoru in the first place was to get an unfiltered opinion, which Satoru absolutely excelled at. He willed the perpetual fog in his head to clear long enough to at least be somewhat helpful. 

Suguru looked almost embarrassed, though Satoru couldn't understand why. His latest outfit was a crop top that showed off just enough of his abs to be tasteful, the hem of the high waisted pants creating something almost teasing. Satoru could feel how the three other people in the store stopped dead at the sight, and Satoru couldn't blame them one bit.

Clearing his throat, Suguru raised an eyebrow, though there was a faint blush across his cheeks. “Well?” 

“You look hot,” Satoru rasped and–yikes. Suguru winced.

“Were those even words?” he asked, though the spreading blush suggested he heard it perfectly well. 

Satoru coughed again, trying to clear the gunk out of his chest without devolving into another full fit. But his throat was on fire, like it was coated in glass wrapped in barbed wire.

“We'll go to that juice stall you like after this,” Suguru suggested, and Satoru flashed a quick thumbs up. Truthfully, the idea of any kind of food made him nauseous, but he wasn't about to mention that. Not that he would be able to taste it anyway.

“Seriously,” Satoru said after a minute, trying to push past all the crap in his lungs, “it looks good. You should buy it.”

Suguru hummed in response, still distracted. His enthusiasm for this trip seemed to be dissipating at the same rate as Satoru’s deteriorating condition, and it made something like guilt pool in his stomach. This was supposed to be fun, Satoru reminded himself. He tried to sit up straighter, tried to conjure up some more of his usual energy, but his head was pounding and he couldn't breathe through his nose which was somehow running and congested and everything hurt. 

But dammit, it was their day off. “Try the blue one next.”

Suguru frowned, not looking convinced, but Satoru waved him off with a flap of his hand. 

He leaned his head back against the chair as the door to Suguru’s changing room closed. Letting his eyes shut, he sniffled again, groaning softly as it did nothing to help the congestion. His head felt like it was stuffed with concrete, and he rubbed his nose through the mask with the palm of his hand, grimacing as it only exacerbated the wet feeling around his nostrils. A sneeze had been hovering somewhere in his sinuses since the morning, and he took a hitching breath in anticipation as the feeling surged, but it backed off at the last second, somehow adding to the congestion.

Letting out a sharp sigh, Satoru blinked his eyes open, shifting against the chair again in a vain attempt to find a comfortable position. But every notch and groove was digging into his skin, the fluorescent lights were like needles in his eyes even through his blacked out glasses, and every spike of cursed energy around him was clocked by Six Eyes in excruciating detail. Maybe this was hell.

The door to the changing room swung open then, Suguru stepping out in his street clothes. Picking up his head where it was still resting on the back of the uncomfortable chair, Satoru raised his eyebrows. “What–”

“I'm over this,” Suguru cut him off, a few of the things he'd tried on draped over his arm, including that crop top, Satoru noted. “Let's pay and get out of here.” 

“If you're sure,” Satoru replied after a beat, too tired to argue. The relief at leaving mixed with the guilt of cutting the trip short, causing his stomach to churn. 

At the counter, he offered to pay, but Suguru just scowled at him. “I didn't bring you here for your money,” he said sullenly.

Satoru didn't know how to express that he knew that. He wasn't trying to baby Suguru or patronize him. It was just the only way he knew how to apologize for forcing them to leave early. Originally he'd planned on hitting a few more stores, then getting dinner together, somewhere nice, but that plan had been thrown out the window when he'd barely been able to drag himself out the door that morning.

So instead, he just shrugged, stepping away from the counter so the clerk wouldn't have to hear his incessant sniffling. 

The cough snuck up on him this time, and he stumbled out of the store as it ripped through him, pressing his fist against the mask. His lungs burned with the effort, the coughs crackling and painful. Leaning against a wall, he desperately tried to catch his breath as the fit subsided, pushing up his glasses to wipe at his watery eyes.

A hand touched his back, making him jump. Whirling, he turned to see Suguru, hand still outstretched and eyebrows raised in surprise. 

Ugh. So Six Eyes had to tell him that there were exactly four people in the store across the way, but not that someone was coming up behind him? What the fuck. 

“I–uh–are you okay?” Suguru seemed at a loss, and Satoru couldn't really blame him. When was the last time anyone–anything–had gotten the jump on him? 

God, he was tired. The noise of cursed energy surged around them, smothering him like a tidal wave, pounding relentlessly against him. Somewhere nearby, a glass broke, and he winced as it felt like the shards were lodging into his brain.

The bag from the clothing store crinkled in Suguru’s hand as he took a step towards him. Suguru touched his elbow, and Satoru tried to focus on it, letting it anchor him in a sea of stimuli. 

“Come on,” Suguru said softly, wrapping his long fingers around Satoru's arm in a loose hold, gently tugging him along. Satoru went willingly, doing his best not to trip over his own feet.

The noise started to fade as Suguru led him away from the busiest stores, taking him towards a more secluded part of the mall. They passed a bathroom, and Satoru took his arm back. Turning, Suguru raised an eyebrow in question.

“I'm gonna–” Satoru jerked a thumb towards the bathroom, not waiting for Suguru’s response before making his way in. Six Eyes told him it was empty–he could only hope it was right, though he didn't fully trust them today. Wasting no time, he practically ran inside, desperate for a moment to himself.

He pulled down his mask, relieved as the sensation of material on his face eased. Swiping a few paper towels, he blew his nose, though it didn't put a dent in the congestion and just made him cough in the aftermath. The paper towel was rough, scraping across the sensitive skin. Why hadn't he thought to bring tissues? 

The urge to sneeze spiked again, and he tilted his head back to–nothing. Not even pushing his glasses onto his head to look into the ugly lights of the bathroom helped tease it out. 

Tossing the paper towel into the garbage with more force than necessary, he caught his reflection in the mirror. No wonder Suguru had volunteered to leave early. His already pale complexion was a shade or two lighter, making him look downright lifeless, though there was a faint flush developing high on his cheeks. His nose was pink, except for around his nostrils, which was an angry red. And his eyes–ugh. Red rimmed and watery, their usually bright sheen was now dull and dark, which was obvious even behind his glasses. 

Fuck. He shouldn't be out in public like this. 

It was embarrassing, honestly, how easily he was falling apart. He was supposed to be the strongest. How his family would sneer at him if they saw him now, undone by something as mundane as a cold. 

He sniffled aggressively, but still had to snag another paper towel to angrily swipe at his nose as it threatened to run down his lip. His throat burned, his eyes throbbed, he couldn't breathe right, his chest felt heavy, he'd been on the edge of a sneeze since he woke up and it was all driving. Him. Crazy.

A door in the women's bathroom slammed, and Satoru had to bite back a groan. The surge of cursed energy was back, and even if this part of the mall had fewer stores, it was enough to overwhelm him. Three teenagers walking by, their energy wild and unrestrained. Low level curses crawling around the women’s changing room twenty feet away. A child crying across the hall a spike in energy two stores down as a couple bickered the dripping water of the faucet in front of him the rattle of the pipes in the walls a sudden wave of energy from the food court–

“Satoru?”

Whipping his head up, he saw Suguru standing by the entrance to the bathroom, concern in his dark eyes. 

“You've been gone for a while,” Suguru said, gaze flickering from his face to his hands as he walked slowly towards him.

It was only then Satoru realized he was gripping the edge of the sink hard enough to turn his knuckles white. 

Something wet rolled down his face, and he only had a second to be horrified at the idea of his nose running before Suguru’s hand cupped his cheek, his thumb wiping away–a tear, it was a tear. Oh. Was he crying? 

“Satoru?” Suguru said his name so tenderly. When was the last time he was treated softly when he was sick? He remembered being ill as a child, receiving the best medicine and the finest doctors, every need taken care of. But had anyone held him, or offered any kind of comfort? Maybe a few of the maids, if they were feeling particularly sorry for him, but never his parents. Had anyone touched him with gentle hands the way Suguru was now, like he was something precious? Not a commodity to be cultivated or a god to be shaped?

“You're a bit warm,” Suguru murmured, brows furrowed. 

Satoru went to reply–maybe with something cheeky like I'm always hot or something embarrassing like can we please go home–but instead, all that came out was a choked sound. He felt another tear run down his cheek, and Suguru dropped the bag he was holding, bringing up his other hand to fully hold Satoru’s face, eyes wide in alarm.

“Satoru?!” he said again, more urgently.

“I–” The cursed energy surged again as a group of people walked by the bathroom, and it was all too much. He wanted to scream, but his throat was too raw to handle it. His hands flew to his head, knocking his glasses off in the process, and he couldn't hold back a frustrated sob.

Suguru acted immediately, wrapping a hand around his arm and tugging him into the bathroom stall, bag forgotten on the ground. Kicking the door shut and throwing the lock closed, Suguru yanked the cover of the toilet down before pulling them down to sit on the top. Despite Satoru being taller, Suguru managed to maneuver them so his face was pressed into Suguru’s chest, one hand on the back of his head, the other around his shoulders.

The tears came hot and fast. Satoru surprised himself by how many he had to shed, sobbing into Suguru’s shirt, clutching chunks of fabric like a lifeline. Suguru just held him, saying nothing, not even as Satoru stained his shirt with a disgusting mix of bodily fluids. But he couldn't stop, too miserable to even try. The noise was endless, his eyes throbbed, his head was too heavy to lift. His sobs burned through his scratchy throat, quiet and painful. Everything felt wrong, and even his clothes–his softest shirt, his most comfortable sweater, his warmest hoodie–were like sandpaper against his skin. 

The only thing that felt right was Suguru’s hand rubbing soothing circles on his back, the other holding his head gently but firmly. Satoru tried to focus on that. He practically begged Six Eyed to cool it for a goddamn second, tried to direct their perception to hone in on the warmth of Suguru’s arms around him, but it only marginally succeeded. 

The crying was not helping his congestion in the slightest, his whole face feeling gross. And wet. Suguru would need to burn this shirt, fuck. Satoru would buy him a replacement. Or ten replacements. Whatever he wanted.

It took a few long minutes, but the tears eventually slowed, Satoru left making sad, broken noises as he tried to breathe through the gunk in his head. 

“Let's get you cleaned up,” Suguru said softly, “and then we'll get out of here, ok?”

Satoru could only groan at the thought of the train. Another three hours to get back. The idea made him dizzy.

“I called the school,” Suguru said, as if reading his thoughts. Satoru looked up at him, lashes wet, trying not to think about how pathetic he must look. “They'll send someone to pick us up.”

Satoru nodded, running the back of his hand across his runny nose, trying in vain to fix himself up at least a bit. Thankfully, Suguru’s shirt was black, any gross stains that Satoru left behind hidden. Not that Suguru seemed to mind. 

Chuckling softly, Suguru reached over and unlocked the stall door with one hand, pulling Satoru up with the other. 

“Come on, I got you.” With the patience of a saint–or maybe God himself, at this point–Suguru led him to the sink, but Satoru pulled back.

“S-Suguru, wait–” The crying had shifted the congestion just right, finally, and he was spinning away from Suguru to catch the resulting sneeze in his cupped hands. Then another, and another. The groan he let out afterwards was half disgusted, half relieved. He winced at the wet feeling in his palms, then shivered as a sudden chill went through him.

Behind him, Suguru sighed, but it sounded affectionate. “Come on, let's make sure your brains are still in your head.” 

“Gross,” Satoru replied, voice crackling with the effort.

Suguru touched his back with one hand, guiding him towards the sink. Digging into his pocket with the other, he fished out a travel pack of tissues, peeling open the package and pulling one out. 

“Here.” He offered it to Satoru, who was still hiding behind his cupped hands. 

“Why d’you have this?” Satoru asked, snatching it out of Suguru’s hand as fast as possible. His shoulders hunched as he blew his nose again, the soft material of the tissue leagues better than the rough, horrible texture of the paper towels.

“Because you're sick,” Suguru replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Oh. Satoru held his hand out for another one silently, hoping Suguru couldn't see the way the blush extended all the way to his ears. 

It took half the package before Satoru felt somewhat human again, though his reflection in the mirror told a different story. His eyes and nose were even redder, his cheeks ruddy from crying. 

Ugh. He felt disgusting. All he wanted was to take a hot shower and then pass out. 

It was only when he was washing his hands, with Suguru retrieving his glasses and the dropped bag, when he saw it–the cursed spirit at the entrance to the bathroom. Once again, Six Eyes couldn't be bothered to let him know. Before he could completely freak out, though, he finally noticed Suguru’s residuals on it.

“One of yours?” Satoru asked, somewhat unnecessarily. Ugh, his voice was officially shredded.

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “Just noticing now?” he asked playfully, the smile dropping off his face when Satoru didn't react. “Holy shit, are you seriously just noticing now?” 

Scowling, Satoru returned his attention to washing his hands, scrubbing a bit more aggressively than necessary. It was embarrassing to be so caught off guard, even worse to be so called out about it. The cursed energy was all mixing into a confusing mess in his sludgy brain, making it harder to tell everything apart. Turning off the water, he flicked his hands into the sink, snagging a paper towel and refusing to meet Suguru’s eyes.

“Hey.” Suguru touched his cheek, pulling his face towards him. Satoru went willingly, despite his annoyance. “Sorry. I was just surprised.” Suguru touched Satoru’s forehead with the back of his hand, frowning. “You're really not well, Satoru.”

Satoru just shrugged, tossing the paper towel over his shoulder, where it landed in the garbage can despite the fact that his vision was going fuzzy. 

Suguru was beside him before he could sway, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I got you.”

He shook out Satoru’s glasses with his other hand, gently sliding them into his face. They rested just the wrong way on the bridge of his nose, igniting the lingering tickle, and he just managed to pull the mask up in time to sneeze into it.

“Ugh”, he couldn't help but moan. 

“Bless you,” Suguru said, amusement in his voice, though he squeezed his arm tighter around Satoru’s waist. “Let's get out of here.”

-----

“I'm sorry.”

Satoru blinked his eyes open, looking up at Suguru from where he was nuzzled into his side, Suguru’s arm around him in a way that could almost be called protective. The drive so far had been quiet, save for Satoru’s sniffling. Luckily the driver hadn't said anything when they came to pick them up, even if this was a gross misuse of school time and property. “For what?”

“I should have insisted we stay home,” Suguru said, sighing softly, the guilt in his voice unmistakable. “I shouldn't have dragged you out like this.”

Satoru hummed softly. “It's okay,” he said, hardly even audible with the way his voice kept cutting out. He coughed softly into the mask, but snuggled up closer. “I like spending time with you.”

Suguru’s arm tightened around him.

“Y-yeah,” Suguru said, a bit breathless. Then he smiled down at Satoru, warm and affectionate. “I like spending time with you, too.”

“Even when I'm all gross like this?” It was supposed to be a joke, but it came out more sincere than Satoru meant.

“Always,” Suguru responded, without hesitation. “Though I would rather you weren't feeling so shitty.”

Satoru hummed in response, letting his eyes close again. He rested his head on Suguru’s shoulder, and Suguru’s hand came up to card through his hair. 

“It was worth it to see that crop top,” Satoru murmured, and Suguru just laughed, the sound low and affectionate. 

[voiceofthe]

princess concept i've been thinking about is like. let's just go all in on those options that are like "no i'm fine with the world ending." you go down to the basement and tell her that you were sent to kill her because she's going to end the world, and that's why you're going to get her out of there. the princess, momentarily shocked and wanting to protest, quickly readjusts to the idea. the narrator completely flips out and tries to take over as quickly as possible. i'm tentatively calling the chapter 2 of this the harbinger with a chapter 3 being the dawn

[slttygeto]

random thought that i needed to share because my love for gojo is bigger than my body, but he is the definition of “to be loved is to be changed”. going from this arrogant kid who is considered to be “bratty” to this bubbly teenager who wants suguru’s attention on him. he wants his praise, his love, his validation, he wants suguru as a whole and for that to be taken away from him all of a sudden changed him. being loved changed him, gaining and losing it made him who he is today. in a room filled with people who think so highly of him, suguru’s love and support would always matter the most because its suguru. suguru loved and changed satoru.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Fanfiction anon again. Do you think I portrayed the dissociation aspect well enough? I don't have a lot of experience with writing in general, let alone things like that and I don't experience it myself very often so I'm not sure if I did it correctly? Does it show properly in your opinion?

I don’t have a dissociative disorder either, and it’s been awhile since I’ve heavily dissociated in that matter (used to in the past, big chunks of clear memories missing from my 20 year life span although I have a general idea of some events I suppose (and regained some memories at a later time)), but I could tell that you were describing dissociation pretty much immediately.

I’ve tried looking around for things to help writing characters with dissociative disorders (and trauma, as these things can tend to go hand and hand), and I’ve found a few things that could possibly help you if you want. I don’t know how accurate they actually are, but it’s a start:

How to Write a Character with a Dissociative Disorder when You Have a Dissociative Disorder

How to Depict Stress & Trauma by Narrating Dissociation

This Tumblr post, Writing Dissociative Characters.

How Can I Write About It if I Wasn’t There? 8 Tips for Writing About Dissociation.

Tips & suggestions in this Reddit thread. This one too.

[phantomdreamss]

thinking thoughts about a roydick no capes au..maybe i’ll share once i get my thoughts in order in a doc (may or may not be an underground fighter roy x dancer dick au👀👀👀)

edit: just a warning there will be so mich angst, these boys cant catch a break apparently

[triglycercule]

horror is so BLESSED he's the only one out of the murder time trio that has actual good people trying to influence his story 💔💔 dust and killer were both driven to INSANITY because of the choices of their respective humans but horror??? every time without FAIL the polls for horrortale's plotline have always ended in a good place for aliza (either by bettering her relationships/reputation or for her to just. not DIE)

horrortale's potential alternate timelines my beLOVEd🙏🙏 they're SO lucky that we're being kind and benevolent hehe (≧ω≦) now where are the aus based off the possible different outcomes that could've happened in horrortale HUH???? (like how aliza couldve killed toriel or chosen horror's puzzle or gone with undyne to the core........)

[sophiethewitch1]

to everyone in my inbox asking about what we wants next chapter im really sorry it's been ages and there's been basically nothing but radio silence. i dont really have any excuse i just havent felt as interested in writing for it recently and whenever i do write for it i find myself struggling to get anywhere on the next chapter and writing for future stuff instead. for example the published wc is under 50k i think but the actual amount ive written for it is at 75k lololol. its definitely still being worked on, and definitely still a priority, i just can't really promise anything rn :/

[joeykinnie]

Who is the Tetro Danganronpa Pink Chapter 3 Culprit?

hii guys!! its me (again). i decided to make this post so that i can share my own personal thoughts and opinions as to who I think may possibly be the tetro chapter 3 culprit.

this post will contain spoilers, aswell as me ranking characters from least to most suspicious - basically by using process of elimination, ill try to pin down and guess the blackened! this post is kind of long though, so feel free to skip. if not, lets get started!!

for starters, this is my personal tier list:

theres six categories as you can see here. i'll currently discuss each one by one, aswell as my reasoning for putting the characters in their specific tier.

starting off, we have:

already dead: isono, sasaki, chiba, harada, kamimura, tsuno

there's pretty much nothing to discuss here lol. we all know that they're dead, but i still didn't feel like leaving them out. so we are going to move straight on to the next category.

there's literally no way they couldve possibly done this. zero evidence: hiroaki, ojima, mai, hama, watari

this category is basically me saying that i don't think that these specific characters couldve done the murder. i'm now going to discuss each one of them and give my reasoning as to putting them here:

1. hiroaki - hiroaki is definitely surviving this chapter and i think that's pretty obvious 😭😭 he quite literally couldn't have done the murder. he tried to kill himself, he has an airtight alibi with ojima, he doesn't have a proper motive for this kind of murder. it's true that he didn't have a partner during the investigation and he was exploring alone and he may be an asshole sometimes, but this is hiroaki we're talking about. the same guy who gags at the sight and mention of blood and isn't even that knowledgable of the woodshop to the point that he had to go and ask yanagi about it. so, no, I don't think that he could've murdered kamimura, same thing with tsuno. for me, hiroaki is innocent.

2. ojima - pretty much for the same reasons as hiroaki. ojima has an airtight alibi with him and i quite literally cannot even see him ever commiting murder in the first place. i know that many people used to suspect him during chapter 2, but there's no way he could've done the chapter 3 murder. like, cmon. the note to hasegawa, supposedly written by wada? the saw in wada's room and the key?? taking ojima and wada's relationship to account, i don't think that ojima would try to frame wada in any way. its already clear that ojima cares about him, and he was the first one to find out about the okazaki situation, so why just betray wada like that all of a sudden? again, no motive. i don't think that he was the one who set up the woodshop trap either, so I'm confident that he's innocent.

3. mai - there's quite literally no way mai could've done the murder either. she basically carried almost the entire investigation on her back LMAO. I don't think that there's much to discuss here but I've still seen people who think its her.. why? she was in the medbay the entire time because she was hurt and had to rest, she was the one who explored both the boys and girls dormitories, she was the one who investigated both kamimuras and tsunos dead bodies. doing all of this while being the blackened at the same time is quite difficult, isn't it? it would be hard to carry out. so, yeah, mai is innocent in my eyes.

4. hama - I don't even think i have to discuss this. because it's so obvious that its not him. like, this is HAMA out of all people. i don't think hama would ever do fucked up shit like this - all this time, he was trying his best to help everyone. he was the first one to volunteer to guard the crime scene and he made sure the others didn't look so that they don't get disturbed. hama also prayed for kamimura to get sent to heaven... there's zero evidence of him being the culprit. hama is innocent.

5. watari - watari is innocent too. she was the second to volunteer to guard the crime scene and also brought luminol which helped them find a blood streak. like hama, all this time she tried her best to help. i don't believe that someone like watari could ever commit such gruesome murder😭😭 none of those characters in this category could.

phew, finally finished with the second category. now it's time for the third category. we are currently moving to the more suspicious characters.

you can make an argument but it would still have flaws - hasegawa

before any of you say anything - no, i don't think that hasegawa murdered kamimura. no chance. but i have seen a theory somewhere of hasegawa being the one who murdered tsuno only, which is definitely an interesting possibility. so i decided to note it down.

the theory basically comes from the forged note. aka, the one who wada supposedly wrote to hasegawa.

let's look back at the specific contents of the note:

what do we have here?

first of all, we already known that the note was written to hasegawa. the note says that in the next 2 days, hasegawa needs to kill okazaki. if he doesn't, then something will happen to his friend (friend obviously reffering to kamimura). the note then says to hasegawa not to approach them or try to bargain.

the theory is basically hasegawa seeing the note, take it seriously and then be the one who set up the woodshop trap for a murder. its possible that he did it because he did spend time in the woodshop, so he would know about its contents. what's not really clear is that it's already said that hasegawa did not know about the note. when mai asked him if he knew what she was reffering to, he declined. you can say that he probably lied, but that's kinda flimsy, isn't it?? that's not really a proper argument to make, especially when you don't really have enough evidence to base it off.

hasegawa did say a couple of times that he wouldn't try to commit murder, but there's still so many ways this can go. i'm confident that he did not murder kamimura, but i'm not so sure about tsuno. that's why he's in this category - you can make arguments that he's somehow involved in the murders, but it will still have flaws.

personally though? I think hes probably safe for now. innocent until proven guilty.

moving on to the next category...

suspicious but probably just a red herring: yanagi, wada

I've seen a lot of theories about yanagi and wada being potential culprits. while i don't really believe that they could've done it, they're still important to note since there is some suspicious evidence that points to them, so i want to go over them. i'll first start with yanagi.

1. yanagi - I didn't expect yanagi to be suspected, but here we are. i do understand why, though. there are a few strange things which must be discussed. such as: mai not believing yanagi about him sleeping last night, yanagi waking up with no shirt on even though it's freezing, yanagi not being in [overdue], etc. I can argue on a few of these.

while him waking up with no shirt on even though its freezing sounds weird at first, i'm pretty sure it's just a red herring. yanagi is a figure skater, after all. i think that he may be used to cold temperatures and can sleep well enough comfortably if he has enough blankets on him or something.

although i have seen an interesting theory of yanagi not being with a shirt on because he set up the woodshop trap, so therefore when the body is discovered there will be no point in wearing multiple clothing for warmth, because the motive will stop. It is possible since yanagi does know a few things about the woodshop, but i'm more curious as to how did he manage to pull off a trap like that and why did he ever decide to make one in the first place.

as for him missing in a few of the episodes, i think that's easily arguable too. he was taking care of mai, wasn't he? so i think that this can be ruled out.

however... the only thing i don't get is why doesn't mai trust him when yanagi claims that he was sleeping last night. i think that it's definitely important to note, but who knows? it could all be just a red herring. thats why yanagi is in this tier. now lets talk about wada.

2. wada - judging from mai's account, while there is a lot of evidence pointing to wada, there's a high chance of him being framed. honestly, I agree. the note, like mai said, doesn't sound like wada at all. and the reason for there being a saw in his room, aswell as the random key and such is because, again, to frame him.

i've seen someone say that wada could've just lost his shit and kill like all of a sudden, kind of like how he stabbed okazaki and destroyed his pc. but... I don't think thats proper evidence?? wada did immediatly seem to regret it when he stabbed okazaki, so i don't think that he couldve commited the murders.

but ive also seen another theory of kamimura not actually being there during the morning ([overdue]), and instead of kamimura, it was wada dressed up as him, while impersonating his voice. now i dont know why and how in the possible hell would wada do that, but kamimura and wada do look quite similar. such as in height, skin, eyes... you name it.

again, the evidence is kind of flimsy, but there sure are more things pointing to yanagi and wada than hasegawa, that's why i put them in a separate tier. well, who knows. i think that wada will probably survive this chapter, but yanagi...I don't really know about you, man. good luck! moving on to the next category...

suspicious, but i don't get why - tamba

tamba, my girl... i'm afraid that things don't really look good for her. i know that some people may think that tamba wouldn't do such a thing, but there are a few suspicious things pointing to her which we definitely can't brush off.

let's first talk about kamimura's body discovery. tamba said something back then which caught my eye. when they were discussing about investigation pairs, she immediatly said that she doesn't mind with who she investigates with, but she doesn't want to investigate the woodshop. and, mind you, no one even mentioned the woodshop right before that. she was the first one who brought it up. (check if you don't believe me)

that's honestly one of the things which worries me. because why would she say that?? you can, again, pull up the red herring stuff on this, but what about her dissapearance during the investigation? we havent seen her in any of the episodes, except for the body discoveries and when they were at the elevator for the trial. that's worrying me, too!

we also didn't see her during the morning and also in the other episodes before the third body discovery. i don't believe that's something we can skip over. tamba is, at some rate, suspicious, and thats not good😭😭😭

there's also other arguments you can make here. such as, the gyoza and her with the constant poison theories, orr maybe even about the fact how she often doesnt think before she speaks/acts. tamba also has a violent history (her secret), and with the way she snapped at mai before does show her exhaustion.

although, I don't really have any more evidence of tamba being the culprit. and i SINCERELY hope she isn't, either. all we can do rn is just currently pray before the trial comes and then see what her fate is LOL.

last but not least, we have...

top suspect - okazaki

thaat's right, ladies and gentlemen! okazaki hanano - our most likely culprit! who would've guessed!

honestly, there's a lot of stuff pointing to okazaki. its very likely that they're the culprit, but... since the evidence is a little bit tad too much, i don't really feel like putting it all here LOL.

I mean, the framing wada thing could definitely be done by them. although i am curious as to why okazaki would write to hasegawa to kill them specifically. that doesn't really make sense, does it?

but okazaki still knows about the 3d printer and key, aswell as how analytical hasegawa is. so killing off kamimura and tsuno and all the other evidence combined together would not only be gut wrenching for wada, but also for hasegawa. because if kamimuras dead, especially by dying in such a brutal way, hasegawa would obviously be devastated. he would not be in the right state of mind, so he may possibly not be able to contribute to the trial much, because its a lot for him to handle.

okazaki was also the one who picked the pairs. pairing wada and tsuno together could be on purpose, depending if okazaki is the one who set up the woodshop trap or not.

nevertheless, i'm honestly very interested to see what will happen to them, and where their character will go, especially after they got stabbed. (and also if there's an okazaki crash-out i would definitely scream LMAO/pos)

aand yeah. that's it. sorry for the long post.😭😭 and sorry if things may seem rushed, i kind of wrote this at a wrong time. but i do hope you guys enjoyed this, and if you want lemme know your thoughts on this aswell!

[thefactsofthematter]

hello newsies tumblr! i’m back to post a scene i found in a random wip folder, from a fic that will probably never exist in full lol

please enjoy some sad canon era javid <3

-

"...and I know we don't pray the same way, you and I, but your folks said you might not mind it if I sat with you and did this. Only one God, ain't there, so I figures we can ask Him for all the help we can get, every which way. Ain’t no harm in extra prayers."

That's Jack's voice.

David is awake, sort of, but too tired to open his eyes. His body is itchy, but he's too tired to scratch himself. His throat burns, so he doesn't dare try and speak.

He just lays there.

"This was my Ma's." He's placing something in David's hand. A string of beads, it feels like. "I should take the time to sit and pray it more often. She carried it everywhere. Only thing I've got left of her, really."

He wraps the beads around David's palm.

"You start at the bottom, see," Jack continues, as if he knows David's listening, "and you say a prayer for every bead. And you gotta have an intention, right— mine for today is that I'm asking God to get you better, 'cause you're starting to scare everyone, Dave, what with how you just keep getting sicker and the fever won't break. We can't go losing you anytime soon, so you've gotta get yourself better as soon as you can."

He's very sick, David realizes. That's why he can't move.

He's a bit scared.

But it's hard to stay scared for long with Jack Kelly holding your hand, so he starts to feel calm again.

"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti," Jack murmurs.

David hadn’t realized Jack knew Latin. Wonders where he learned it, since he would've left school before the grades they started teaching it. He only went to school until he was eight— he told David that.

"Credo in Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, Creatorem caeli et terrae..."

Jack continues on in words that David's tired brain can't make sense of, but it's rhythmic and soothing. There's a cadence to it like Jack doesn't actually know what he's saying, has just memorized the sounds, probably at church— it's like how David felt about some Hebrew prayers when he was little, just echoing back what he heard others speak.

From bead to bead, Jack mumbles quiet prayers, and David finds himself, somewhere in his fever-addled brain, feeling quite charmed and grateful that Jack would show him this private, vulnerable side of himself. His faith is deeply personal to him, David knows— it's there in the way he never puts on his arrogant show towards the nuns, the way he's quick to take his cap off even on the steps of the church, the way he scrubs the littlest newsies into their very best shape on Saturday nights and drags them to mass on Sunday mornings. David loves to watch him in those short moments before he eats his dinner each day, lips moving silently as he gives thanks.

It's a softer side of Jack Kelly that often stays well-hidden, but makes itself very endearing when it peeks through.

"I think I might be praying for a miracle," Jack sighs, after a long time of quiet whispering, counting along the beads. His voice is a bit shaky now. "But they happens, you know. They said so in the good book. I know it's the very same God lookin' after you and I, and I know He loves you and won't take you away from us here on Earth, not just yet. Ain't your time."

And he takes the beads from David's palm, replacing them with his own hand. He intertwines their fingers and squeezes.

David tries to squeeze back. It's weak, pitiful, but enough for Jack to gasp.

"I knew it," he whispers. "Oh, I knew it, I knew it, Dave. You're there, ain't you? You're listening."

And David wishes he could give him anything more, but he can feel sleep creeping up on him again, so he lets it come. Not much else he can do, but it's nice to hear some hope in Jack's voice.