#maybe later. and ill just no edit his hair lmao

[kukurubean]

NEXT OPPONENT!

[westside-rot]

Kill For You

Authors note: This was intended to be my first drabble but my brain wouldn't let me stop and here we are with all these words. I'll get it right and stop rambling eventually lmao

Also, I'm dipping my toe into fanfics, having fun with ideas and seeing what sticks so please be nice. It's never that serious. This has light editing so excuse any errors.

Minors dni. I do not consent to my work being copied/reposted anywhere. Stealing is lame so don't do it. Reblogs and comments are always welcome after you hit like lol

Protective husband Toji

Mentions of violence and smut *sorry not sorry*

Choosing an outfit is never easy for you. Most days it’s more like a chore and less like a first step in having fun. The way Toji’s eyes tear away from the video game he’s playing to shamelessly appraise your body is confirmation you made the right choice. Going out tonight was a last-minute decision. With limited time to get ready you opted for a backless navy-blue halter dress that showed off plenty leg without having to worry about your ass being exposed. A modest selection for the club. There’s nothing modest about the way Toji admires your curvy frame.

You pretend not to notice as you drop your phone into your purse and inform him of your plans for the evening.

“I’ll see you in a few hours. Enjoy your game. I love you.” It’s foolish to think you’d get away with a rushed explanation and a quick kiss goodbye. When Toji’s large hand catches you by the wrist you aren’t the least bit surprised to have your departure interrupted. You huff and scrunch up your nose to hide your amusement. The charade ends the moment you lock eyes. With a smirk on your face you melt into his broad defined chest and the kiss accompanying his possessive hold on your waist.

“Now let’s try this again Mrs. Fushiguro. Where do you think you’re going in this dress?”

You can’t answer right away as your husband leads you into one kiss and then another. Soon you’re in a full-blown make-out session. When he does finally let you up for air it’s a miracle you can speak. An even bigger one that your panties haven’t melted right off your ass. You explain how one of your girls is going through a bad breakup and you and the rest of the friend group have decided to get her out of the house for a night of drinks and dancing. Toji hums in what you assume to be understanding. The way his lips ghost over the creamy brown skin of your collarbone, tongue dipping between your boobs says otherwise.

“You look gorgeous my love. Maybe you should change. I don’t think I want you wearing this dress without me around.”

“Baby, I can’t. The girls will be here in five minutes. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve felt pretty in a dress.”

He knows you’re being genuine just like he knows you don’t fault him for the long work hours and long overdue date nights. Giving you his blessing is the first step in making amends. Even though he raises you to your feet and readjusts the bottom of your dress back into place you can see the conflict happening behind his dark green eyes.

“I promise to be good.” You pout and run your fingers over the clipped black hair hanging over his forehead. He growls and pulls you closer.

“Keep your phone on. Should any man dare speak to you let them know disrespect is a crime punishable by death. Your husband is the executioner.”

“Yes sir.” You purr against his lips and erupt into a fit of giggles when he sends you on your way with a firm smack to the ass that stays with you long after you join your friends in the rideshare. It requires some convincing not to fake an illness to stay at home with your husband. Nurturing your friendships is important to you. The last thing you want is to become the friend who forsakes all others for her man. A night away from him will do you both some good. And so you turn your thoughts away from him and focus on the night ahead.

Hours later you’re regretting your decision. It’s not that you haven’t enjoyed yourself. After spending weeks going from work to home you loved every second of existing in your own bubble with your girls. The music had been on point and the drinks were nice and strong. That seemed like a good thing in the moment. By 1am you remember why you could only handle the club in small doses. The men had officially lost any sense of decency. While you understood wanting to end the night in good company, you were tired of having to relay Toji’s message to every man occupying your personal space. The massive ring on your finger should’ve been effective fuck boy repellent. Yet here you were on your fourth insincere apology. To their credit, they eventually cut their losses and backed away. There was always one that refused to take no for an answer. This particular jerk refuses to accept your no, going as

Deciding you’ve reached your fill on corny pick up lines, you and your girl decide to wait for the rest of your group outside. You've dealt with your fair share of thirsty men, none crazy enough to get physical and call you an uppity bitch for dismissing him. Pulling away only gives him reason to tighten his grip on your arm. Before you or your friend can respond with a swift kick to the balls a strong pair of hands pull the man off his feet and cast him aside like a rag doll. Your eyes practically fall out of your head when you realize it’s Toji. He’s too busy making good on his word to acknowledge your shock. While the dumb ass puts up an impressive defense he’s easily overpowered and pummeled to the ground. Every punch he throws is reciprocated with two more that land directly in his face until he's unrecognizable. Toji shows no sign of stopping. Even though you'd bet money you weren't the first woman this piece of shit has put his hands on, he isn't worth a prison sentence.

It's your voice pulling Toji back to his senses. One more punch and a kick to the ribs and he's snatching the man up by his collar to hold the man's bloody face in your direction.

“Apologize for putting your filthy hands on my wife. I’m only sparing you because she asked.

He complies and stammers out an apology through the stream of blood running down his nose into his mouth. You’re disgusted by how little you care about the beating he’s taken. Unlike the idiot before you, no one is going to force you to apologize for noticing how well your husband is filling out his thermal. In the hours since you last saw him his corded muscles appear larger and more defined underneath the black fabric. It looks painted on. The color has always been your kryptonite. Toji is wrapped in it, from his jeans down to his work boots. It’s the black beanie tugged down over his ears that turns you feral.

Toji’s voice cuts through your thoughts with a clear directive you can’t ignore. “Let’s go. All of you. NOW.” He leads you out of the club with your gaped mouth friends trailing closely behind, the crowd parting like water to let you pass. Some women gawk, one gave you a thumbs up, while other voices agreed with Toji’s methods. You have the urge to remind everyone he's your husband but decide against it.

Once in the car Toji instructs you to put everyone’s addresses into the GPS. After that the ride is tense and mostly silent. In the group chat your friends are remain crazy and undeterred as they unanimously decide Toji’s deserves immaculate head on everyone’s behalf.

You bite down a laugh then respond in chat, assuring them you will but you can't pinpoint Toji’s mood. He seems upset with you. Despite being grateful for his presence you’re somewhat annoyed with him for infiltrating your girl’s night out. Exactly how long had he been spying? Why hadn’t you noticed him before? Was he being protective, or did he not really trust you?

It pisses you off that while you’re stewing in emotions you shouldn’t feel Toji is being the perfect gentleman, not only driving your friend’s home but escorting them to the door to ensure they make it inside safely. Upon arriving home you decide you're going to sleep off your frustrations and be a responsible adult tomorrow.

Toji has other plans. Resisting your inner brat, you allow his firm yet pleading tone to keep you in your seat with arms folded across your chest.

“I’m sorry for not getting to you sooner baby. I was trying to be respectful to the hoe asking me dance and got distracted.”

The way your jaw clenches at the mention of the faceless woman proves Toji isn’t alone in his unhinged behavior. In your defense your patience runs a bit longer than his. You certainly haven’t beaten any women to a pulp for getting close. No woman had dared to touch what belonged to you either.

“Sure.”

“I got this bad feeling after you left that I couldn’t shake. Maybe it was nothing. But I rather have you upset with me than ignore my gut and something happens. You’re my entire world. I can't exist without you.”

Suddenly you’re climbing into your wonderful man’s lap to shower him with appreciation one kiss at a time across his beautiful face. You’re a brat that needs to correct her attitude. To further drive home the point you drag your tongue over his scar then back down to his chin, bearing your teeth and latching on. Toji’s lips curve into a vulgar smile but otherwise appears unfazed.

“How do you intend to make it up to me brat?”

His dick, hard and restricted against the crotch of your panties sends a message to put action to words. You comply with eager hands fumbling with his belt as you lean back on the steering wheel. “By letting you use me. You can start by fucking me right here in the driveway.”

He groans as though he’s already inside of you. What you mistake for passion on the verge of release is restraint to keep both hands firmly at your waist. He refuses to touch the intimate parts of you with soiled hands. Another reason to despise the piece of shit from earlier. But you’re too horny to argue. You practically race up the driveway, fumbling with keys to unlock the front door. The kitchen to wash your hands or a shower. You can’t decide. Toji makes the decision for you.

“Take off your panties.” Pulling them down your shapely legs, you toe the lace off to the side along with your heels. You abruptly clamp on the taunt you’ve prepared when you see him kneel before you, presenting his shoulders as a thrown he wishes you to occupy. Always mindful of safety you drape one leg across him and keep the other on the ground for leverage until he demands your trust. You comply. Your husband is a strong man. You’re reminded how much when he straightens his back, hoisting you off the ground, trapping you between the door at your back and the tongue in your pussy.

You close your eyes and surrender to weightlessness, tugging at his hair and mewling your pleasure, vocal but not too loud. You want to hear him lewdly slurp at his meal, burying his face in it like he’s eager to drown and die a satisfied man. His tongue is just as big as the rest of him. You love the way he alternates between the wavelike motions against your clit to stuffing your needy walls. It doesn’t take long to come like this. You whimper his name on its arrival, shudder then relax on his shoulders with your feet set firmly at the center of his back. When he finally sets you on the ground with a suckling kiss to each thigh you follow him on shaky legs into the kitchen.

The energy shifts from two wantons chasing pleasure to comedic and downright absurd. Toji has you pinned in front of him at the sink, his burly figure towering over you in playful competition for his share of the running water all while he struggles to penetrate you handsfree. You wish you could see how silly he looks with his jeans below his ass grinding near your entrance like some inexperienced teenager. The failed attempts have given your abs the workout you haven’t asked for. You’re the drunk one. Toji has no excuse for his antics but you’re honored he trusts you with this silly version of himself, a side the world doesn’t know exists.

"Spread your legs a little wider—push your ass up."

"Give up please." Laughter splutters from you when he notches the head between your folds, almost but not quite. The way he dips and rolls his hips as if he's sure it'll get him where he needs to be put tears in your eyes. "You’re trying to kill me." Resting your head on the counter, you give up attempting to wash your hands to fully commit to laughing. Toji joins in while taking full advantage of the water.

"Not at all gorgeous. I’m trying to fuck you." He doesn’t bother to dry off his now thoroughly washed hands as guides himself to your entrance. He reaches his target on the first try. Neither of you is laughing anymore.

The first thrust is always the sweetest. Especially when you’ve gone deprived for so long.

"There ya go. Shut that pretty fuckin mouth and let me inside." He kicks your legs apart to widen your stance and ruts into your ass. You nearly submerge your head under the water from the impact but recover quickly, stretching your soapy fingertips into the water instead and deepening the arch in your back. It gives him a full display of your ass bouncing off his pelvis and aligns him with just the right spot. He drills you for several heavenly minutes then fucks you into a standing split. Somehow you manage to cut off the water and just in time because he's snatched you off your feet, locking your knees over his elbows to fuck you midair.

There's nothing gentle about the way he fucks you. He fucks you like he's upset, like he's secretly harboring a grudge he doesn't want to speak on. You love it but feel as though you owe him another apology.

Toji isn’t giving you the chance to speak. Even as he walks you into the living room, he’s slamming you down on his dick, knocking the words right out of you. He’s relentless even in the way he places you back on your feet and jerks you around by the hair to segue right back to hard thrusts in one disorienting motion.

"I’m sorry. I’ll burn the dress—Don’t be mad." You wail over the sound of his balls colliding with your ass and frantically attempt to leverage yourself on the couch. He’s quick to restrain both arms behind your back, locking them at the elbow in a one-armed restraint. His free hand snakes your throat. There’s nowhere to run even if you want to. You don’t. He slams into you numerous times before his brain processes what you managed to say.

"What? No baby--just need to feel you and remind myself you’re mine... beautiful and all fucking mine."

"All yours. Only fucking yours." You echo the words. It earns you more sharp thrusts in powerful succession, the intensity forcing you on to the tips of your toes. You chant the words through your delirium and yield as he cranes you backwards by a makeshift ponytail to roughly kiss his way into your mouth. Not the most comfortable position but you love being treated like his personal doll. It doesn’t matter that you watched him mark his territory in the most violent way possible or how ridiculous it might seem to need the reassurance. He's a man, your man, the person you vowed to spend your life with. If he needs his ego stroked, you'll gladly stroke it. Perhaps not in the way he’s stroking your insides but close enough for him to feel cherished and irreplaceable. He deserves it after giving you some of the best orgasms of your life.

All you can do is scream your praise when the third one hits. Every nerve ending in your body feels like tiny focal point detonating at once. The pleasure overtakes you, seizing control of your limbs and coherence. You topple over the couch’s armrest to sob face first in the cushions below. Tremors ripple through your fingers down to your toes now arched and pointed at the ceiling. You fear any sudden movement will remove you from this new blissed out existence. So you don’t. You remain in your wilted position, crying and fully possessed by endless quaking yet aware enough to sense Toji kneeling at eye level. Warm hands caress your face, coaxing a gratified drunken smile to confirm you hadn’t passed out.

"Did I break you?"

“Uh-uh.”

His thumb catches your bottom lip and pries your mouth open. "I’m putting you to bed."

Instantly you muster the strength to speak. "Nooo. Just gimme a minute."

His laughter soothes your rapid pulse and puts breath back into your lungs. You think you won’t need the minute you requested. Not anymore. You only need him to find his way back home. Toji ignores your pleas with soothing kisses to your nose and lips. He guides you out of the awkward position you landed in and carries you to your bedroom.

It's a welcome change to be returned to your plush bed with your husband looming over you, gaze imbued with love you'll never get tired of seeing, removing the dress still gathered at your waist as though you'll break if he handles you poorly. He removes what remains of his attire and rejoins you on the bed. Finally you’re both gloriously naked. You pull him down on top of you, hard lines melding with soft russet contours and entangled limbs sharing a single heartbeat.

He fucks into you slow, takes his time delving to where your soul resides, whispering his devotion against your damp skin. When you reach orgasm for the last time he isn’t far behind you, filling you with his cum, marking you as his. It isn’t until he pulls out, when the urge to watch his cum leak from your spent body is too great to ignore do you realize how turned on you were watching him defend your honor. It’s toxic to wish for such things but it’s a subject you refuse to drop until you’ve talked it out with your husband. Toji will have to be the one to put a stop to your fantasy, that or replace it with something different, something better. Until then you drift back to the present, shut your eyes, and plan out your next outfit.

[fruitybashir]

hey hello 👋🏻 i'm sorry im very shy but i'm a huge fan of the holidate and dopamin (closer) was so fantastic and super hot and i was blushing the entire way through, i've reread it maybe five times by now, i'm sorry if that's weird 🫣

if you don't mind me asking, i'm curious about something? in the holidate and in dopamin, there's obvious hints at some of their kinks or preferences in bed (hair pulling, praise....) and i'm just wondering......can you say more about what kinks they're both into? what you envisioned for them? is there more we don't know about yet? i'm a bit embarassed to ask but i'm so curious

either way, i'm a big fan and i can't wait to see what you post next and have a nice day/night bye bye 💌💕

omg hiiiii <3333 dont be embarassed omg i loveeee when people tell me they reread my stuff, thats how i know it actually was good!!! 🫶🏻💖💖💖

and sure i can talk about it! its nothing super exciting tbh but i do have a certain set of kinks/preferences/likes whatever you wanna call it for each of them, im gonna put it under the cut as per usual in case it gets long.

edit yeah this is getting super long. sorry. dont ask me to yap, i will not stop.

starting with kris:

the very obvious: hair pulling. i think that was made pretty clear lmao. in a non-sexual context he looooves having his hair played with, someone just running their fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at the scalp, playing with a strand or two, anything at all gives him very pleasant tingles and practically makes him putty in your hands. find that spot behind his ear like bojan did and his brain shuts off, you have now successfully tamed your kris, congrats.

in a sexual context that translates to him loving having his hair pulled, its a combination of him liking having his hair played with + liking a certain level of pain. and the combo of that really gets him off. obviously.

pain for kris is like. hes into some level of pain, like the hair pulling and he also likes biting sometimes. in dopamin thats bojan biting his butt, but i imagine sometimes when bojan takes his time exploring kris' body, he takes a bite here or there, kris' neck, the sides of his stomach, the inside of his thighs .. stuff like that and kris is also really into it then.

hes not into any bigger levels of pain other than that like he wouldnt like stuff like spanking etc although thats a combination of not liking that type of pain and not liking being in a submissive position

next point: he doesnt like being submissive. its both just a preference thing plus not liking loss of control. he loves being the one to order the other part around and be the one to kiiind of have the upper hand. im saying that a bit vaguely bc he also isnt really a dom, he wouldnt like a very strong dominant role, he just likes calling the shots and being in control of the situation. idk how to put it. ill come back to this later

hes freshly discovering that hes into feminization, as you can probably tell from that last upload lmao, and he likes it both in a non-sexual and in a sexual context. he likes feminine words of affection, being called pretty, likes thinking about how in certain perspectives and moments people might mistake him for a girl, and he could have shopped online for lingerie thats specifically made for men, and buy panties that actually had some space in the front, but he deliberately chose not to do that, he wanted it to be girls underwear. that was important.

holidate kris is definitely not fully cis, but also not really trans either i think, idk what to call it but yeah. he might be a little trans, hes having some thoughts and feelings and maybe ill let him explore that properly one day but basically he doesnt really know what to make of it yet or how to categorise it, but he knows he likes himself exactly the way he is and doesnt want to change anything. he also likes getting called girl-ish things and thinking about how people might mistake him for a girl sometimes. idk

other preferences uhhh he really likes sucking dick lmao, like he genuinely enjoys going down on bojan and it gets him all worked up as well. he just figured out he loves getting eaten out. he doesnt like bottoming and he also doesnt like getting fingered all that much. and the thing with that is that he likes having things in his ass, but he doesnt like the uhhh motion of it? having a dick in his ass is fine, having that dick thrust into him is a big no no. the lucky thing with bojan is that he has really short fingers so when hes fingering kris, hes focussing on kris's prostate and doesnt move around all that much so that is still something kris enjoys. on occasion. he also generally doesnt like coming more than once, bc he tends to be very sensitive after his first orgasm and the second one is often very overhelming and too much

moving on to bojan:

also fairly obvious: likes being manhandled, likes being told what to do, big on getting praised. he also loves servicing and making kris feel good, it genuinely gets him off when he can just worship kris a little.

bojan loves both receiving and giving oral but he really loves bottoming and coming on kris' fingers. he loves getting a little overstimulated like getting teased for a long time before getting any proper attention so by the time kris finally goes down on him or fucks him, bojan is already shaking with it and desperate. or in the way like in dopamin, literally not being able to fully calm down in between orgasms and still being super sensitive from the first one.

i think the praise thing is pretty self explanatory, he really loves getting praised for doing a good job when he follows kris' instructions, loves being called a good boy, loves when kris keeps telling him how good hes being in general, its a major thing for him

he loves getting fucked classic missionary or riding kris, they tried doggy once but he didnt like not being able to see kris and touch him. he loves watching kris' face when he comes and also before that, he just loves fucking face to face.

also he would love for kris to make real on his promise of fucking his tits, neither of them knows how that would work but bojan is heavily into the idea of it

as for both of them:

ive said it in dms earlier but basically like. theyre both still kind of vanilla with their kinks? like there is a dom/sub dynamic there but its a very mild one kinda.

like how in dopamin kris tells bojan hes gonna make him come on his fingers and then give him no break after, but later he still does give him a break and checks with bojan if hes still okay with it, if its too much etc. or how he keeps telling bojan to use his words, but always forgives him when bojan cant use his words or is too embarrassed to say what kris wants him to say. like theres never any real consequences.

and thats the thing with them: they are so in tune with each other and have a level of trust for each other that they never had with previous partners. bojan likes being bossed around but he wouldnt like if anyone was actually mean to him, hes not into humiliation or being actually punished for something.

kris knows when he says it that its all empty threats and he would never give bojan any real consequences, and bojan knows this as well, but he would also never intentionally misbehave bc he likes following commands.

they work so well together like that bc theyre both fully aware of what they and the other wants out of it, they know the others wishes and boundaries and limits etc, like there is just a level of trust and understanding between them like no other.

also theyre super in love. did i mention that. does that come across. thats not a kink thing but theyre just super mega in love and thats so important to me.

uhhhh i think thats basically all there is to them kink wise ✌🏼 sorry this got so long, oopsie

[twildflower]

Long awaited doodle dump lmaooo its cut off bc i have some i want to spotlight and they make the post too long n i dont wanna like clog up peoples tl :3

Also mature tag is bc i talk abt some rlly uh fucked up stuff under cut

This is like um sorry i was in a silly goofy chinese mode whoopsies i did translate it tho its not direct translation bc uh chinese and english diff umm its kinda weird in english it’s actually more like green saying did gold teach you that again but i like my personal translation better also look at my handwriting that every single person ive known in my life say is ugly as fuck wooooooo

Hehe Silver in Golds clothes and Reds hat :3 i like this alot i was gonna add gold and red as you can see but i didnt finish yet I’ll probably repost it when i draw it

バニバニガール！i love すりぃ’s バニー go check it out its a really fun song about bunny (girl)s also damn. That hand. It does not look like its drawn by me.

Cutoff here theres a few doodles im not too proud of/not very uh rated e for everyone/random doodles so they will be under the cut B)

Silver with like ribbon tied on his hair :3

This is based off like a pixiv artist’s regold drawings of like red taking gold’s eye n eating it or smth im very interested in like this specific. Uh. Thing. Niche? Idk i just like the idea of like. Hehe. Stolen eye or smth sorry im very sick in the head :3 i see alot of like amputation and other weird stuff on pixiv too from like all the fandoms ive been in but thats not really my thing i really like this eye thing tho okay what the hell im marking this thing as mature im talking abt way too mature stuff

Eerr random eye doodle that turned into a full thing but i wanted to draw goggles too so eh its not very correct tho lmao also hi yes my ugly ass handwriting again i think its fine as long as its not unintelligible yk I don’t know why like everyone i know well most people say its bad like. Grow up at least its readable >:(

This one makes me want to mark this post as mature but ehhhh nah ‘s fine i think. This was written before the second one sorry. I will just be fr now I have been drawing so many like this kinda faces and sometimes anatomy poses bc!!!! I am drawing. Cool. This is just the one that looks better after a few practices lol. :3 Also i like drew the small part of the hair somewhere but idk where’s that paper my whole school binder is just fucking messy af bc i keep going thru where my doodles are. So yeah that thing is probably never going to be found again until i throw papers away or study for exams which is like a month later i think idk im gonna kms i hate maths im so failing mathswhy is it functions i dont understand shit

The fucking maid day doodle thing its so fucking ugly lmaooooo pls im gonna die

Sorry i did not realized i rambled so much under almost every doodle im very scatterbrained im actually so sorry i dont know why i do this im going to fucking cry i do this with literally anything even in schoolwork okay its so laye i haeto sleep maybe ill edit the long brambles out on laptop tmr my phone is lagging the shit out

[kaidenshenandoahknapp]

this was an absurd amount of effort for what was ultimately an offhanded-joke but i needed to procrasinate lmao

if you watched @henrykathman's "Melody of Moominvalley" stream, (hi, hello, i made the thumbnail art, that was a cool surprise to see in my sub-box lol) Kathman made a comment about being glad no one has made him into a Moomintroll (or Snorktroll, i guess) because he thinks he would look like Snork

i had two thoughts in reply to this VOD:

that's probably because i would assume most video-essayist are on the spectrum of Hemulans (oversimplification: academics) to Teety-Woo/Woodies (oversimplification: big fans, arguably obsessive). you're probably more of a Hemulan? based on how you present yourself in videos? idk, i dont know you in your personal life lmao Hemulan just seems likely considering the hobby being so analytical (and also is easier for me to look at the different styles of since Woodies seem to have less general rules towards their appearance. and Teety-Woo is the only one of its kind that i know of, idk what is Teety-Woo's species and what is Teety-Woo's individuality there. but, like, that's not nearly as fun as my bullshit quiz lmao)

fucking bet

*: assets in not-gif form below Read More

(psa: please do forgive me for misspellings. i am dyslexic and will probably edit this repeatedly for quite some time, but im tired atm so Now It Is Posted)

anyway, i whipped all these up in about 2 or 3 days? idk, my chronic health issues have been a monster lately, its hard to keep track of days rn

but i made:

comics Moomintroll/Snorktroll

90s Moomintroll/Snorktroll and Hemulan

Tales From Moominvalley inspired illustration art of Hemulan where it has those lifeless "bug eyes with tiny pupils" style i love (but that i also understand why Jansson went back and gave them bigger pupils after a certain edition, and drew with more expressive eyes after a while)

why did i do three different styles + 3 different species? because i was torn on which to do and ended up pulling a classic Kaiden-Shenandoah and going "ill do more work and let them choose which one they like best". something something anxiety, i dont know what to tell you, im trying to learn self-acceptance lmao besides, it was fun to do a quicker shuft through style changes than the usual heavier studying i make Google Images help me do

speaking of, i dont often share my references because i worry about clutter, but i want to include it today and i also used less ref than usual, so you get clutter lol

(i learned last time that Tove Jansson doesn' often draw mugs; so i did my best guesses based on the references here + the result of my references the last time i drew in Jansson' style, which was more so her later novel-illustrations, if i remember right, as opposed to today. lots of best guesses today.)

first of all, i guessed on Kathman's eye-color based on zooming in and it was too pixelated to tell for sure even with the eyedropped tool. secondly, very fun tying in the blue hair dye since 90s Snork has a pink edge to his hair and Mr Hemulan has a green edge to his. last of all: i made them with (and without) a light beard/stubble, since i saw Kathman has one now. but also that was enirely guesswork on my part: Tove Jansson drew heavy-duty moustaches/beards or completely facially-hairless characters, no in-between. so i used educated guesses on how to adapt that. and i feel a bit like i did the male version of that one Snorkmaiden lipstick comic for my efforts lmao but hey! i tried!

my only thing is idk which set to upload to instagram, bc doing all the assets of with/out facial hair feels oddly excessive and maybe goes past instagram's images-per-post limit, idk, ill upload these there someday i guess. really wish instagram would let me post a gif but idk how to do that. c'est la vie

you also may notice one of the Hemulan sets includes a magnifying glass. i just thought it was thematically appropriate for someone analytical, especially since one of my references above did have it available for me to also reference lol

as a fun detail, i did a more Police Inspector color palette for the 90s Hemulan design, and a more Moominpappa palette for the 90s Moomintroll/Snorktroll designs. hence why those colors aren't the same

and the last thing is that i made the comic assets yellow-y to reflect the aging of paper and the quality of the photo references i have. (Henry Kathman, if you want to edit them to be white for the aesthetic of something, feel totally free)

here's all the assets i made in total. the gif version felt the most succint but yeah. also, Henry Kathman, if you are reading this: same rules apply. feel free to use these in anything you want, credit would be nice. (also, very sweet that you saw my name change away from my childhood nickname, i appreciate that 🫶). credit in the future can be to either here or my instagram (which i changed to match this hyphen-less url, since tumblr terminated my last blog for unknown reasons) i hope you are not upset that i went against your wishes of gratitude that nobody had drawn you as a Moomintroll/Snorktroll, but i hope the fact that i think you don't look like Snork even as a Moomintroll/Snorktroll helps. i hope you also dont mind the Hemulan additions lmao. but yeah, i wont blame you if you prefer the more human (or arguably Mymble? idk species) style i did beforehand in the last batch and don't use these. that one has way more references with lots of drafts and this is more of me messing around and finalizing the first draft i made each time around lol but i think they came out fun! very silly distraction, thanks for the idea lmao

thanks to Henry Kathman for the fun VOD and the much-(un)needed procrastination excuse. it was a good distraction from a pretty bad flare-up in my disability and a full plte of things to do that i needed an escape from. hope youre having a great day!

[sdvharveybby]

This is a super cliche trope but

Can you do fake dating with Harvey? :D maybe his family in Zuzu have constantly been bugging him for still being single, even more so than usual. and he’s close enough with the farmer to ask if they could just pretend for a day while they visit

I, obviously, kept this platonic between the farmer and Harvey, but man! It honestly killed me to write this. By nature, I tease people quite a bit- so to add that into this, it just made me laugh! I love the awkward Doctor man so much!

Inspiration to this was actually eating together with my family earlier! We are full of roasts and ways to tease each other, so it made this fun and easy to write.

**edit** I totally gave Harveys parents some names, by the way. His papa is William/Bill and his mama is Evelyn (which, now that I think about it. someone is named that in SDV. which is exactly what I wanted to avoid. i love myself) Sorry if the names are cringy, but I did it to make my writing easier. Sorry 😓😭

Please let me know what you think, bby! This ask was so unique, I thought about it- and I have seen this with a comic, but I haven’t seen anyone write it (most likely just haven’t see it yet lmao) but I hope I did this all justice! It was super super fun!! THANKS BBY!!

Word Count: 1796

The phone rung, loudly enough to pierce the ears of anyone in the room as the farmer sat on Harvey’s stool by the radio. They swung around in the direction of the phone to see Harvey answering it, “Hi, this is Doctor Harvey, what can I help you with?” He responded in his usual tone during work hours. It was currently 2pm and Harvey and the farmer normally spent this time together- drinking coffee and throwing around jokes till he had to close. It was nice for the farmer to get a break every day and Harvey normally wasn’t busy around this time, so it kept them both company.

They couldn’t make out the words on his call, but they listen closely anyways, “Oh! Mother, ha- yes, sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice for a second!” He admitted as the farmer could see him grip the phone tighter. His sweet smile seemed strained as he focused on the call, he looked… annoyed. “Ah, yes, business is fine around here. It gets a bit slow during the summer but picks up around fall and winter. Is there… any reason you called?” Harvey sat in his chair beside his table, hunched over as he used his elbow to keep the phone at his ear in place. His eyes searched around his room as he listened to his mother on the other line, never making eye contact with the farmer once. He dipped his head and rubbed the back of his neck before he suddenly stood up, “Ha, uhm-yeah, relationships? Y-yeah! I’m uhm… currently in one now!” He lied as he began to pace as much as the phone cord would allow. Wait, relationship? The farmer thought as they watched him slowly pace back and forth. They sipped their coffee, watching him under amused eyes as Harvey was lying to his family. Seems like his family takes that all seriously! They chuckled to themselves, letting out a small burp from their coffee. Harvey swung towards the farmer and held up a finger in a hushed tone- the farmer chuckled again. “Yes, they’re wonderful. I’m very happy,” He continued to lie through his teeth until a moment later when he stopped dead in his tracks. “Ah, no-no! You don’t have to come out!” He spoke, attempting to persuade his family their visit wasn’t necessary. When he realized there wasn’t any way of urging them to stay home, he accepted defeat and ended the call.

Silence filled the room as his stood there, staring at the ground. “Ah, you all right, Harvey? Sounds like your family is coming, yeah?” The farmer began, taking another sip of coffee. He didn’t respond and still didn’t make eye contact. He sat back in his chair by the table and gave a heavy sigh, “My family has been urging me to get into a relationship ever since I left home,” He softly chuckled to himself, it almost seemed panicked as he did so. The farmer began, slowly, “And you… just told them you’re in a relationship…” he nodded, “and… they’re coming out to visit” The farmer pieced together as they watched him lean his back against the table. He nodded again and rubbed his face with his hands. Another moment of silence ensued, “Okay-“ he started, blushing a bit. “Can you do me the biggest favor I’ll probably ever ask of you?” The farmer knew exactly where he was going with this, but they gave a muffled ‘mmhmm’ as they continued to drink their coffee.

“Can we pretend we’re dating while my family is in town?” The farmer knew what he was going to ask, but when they heard it- they almost spat out their coffee. “Us, really?” They wiped their mouth of excess coffee on to their sleeve- they watched Harvey quickly stand, nervously pacing once again. “I’m not close enough with anyone else in town, and- and, I think we can pull it off!” Harvey reassured them giving a worried smile, “Course- you can say n-“ “I’ll do it.” The farmer interrupted, “-but this totally means you owe me!” They stood, placing their empty coffee cup on Harveys radio. Harvey breathed a sigh of relief, “When are they coming out?” They asked him, “T-tomorrow” he mumbled, and the farmer jumped a bit in surprise. “Wait, really?? That gives us no time to prepare at all!” They argued and Harvey held up a hand to dismiss them. “Just be yourself. It’ll only be for the day since they only live in Zuzu city. If they stay for more than a day, then I’ll just tell them you’re busy with your farm work!” He compromised and the farmer sighed, “Fine. I’ll come by after I finish my work, and then I’ll think about how you can pay me back.” They gave him a wicked smile, but Harvey nodded, laughing it off.

The next day started as any other, but the farmer couldn’t feel but a bit worried about meeting his family. It’s going to be so awkward! What if they ask us to do like… romantic stuff together!? This is a disaster! They thought to themselves as they gave hay to their animals. They finished their work a bit later than usual, but they breathed in deeply to calm themselves down and made their way to Harveys.

When they reached his place, it was about 11am, and they walked inside to see Harvey at the front counter with his head in his heads. “No family, yet?” They spoke as they fixed their jacket and combed fingers through their hair to fix it. “No, not yet” he mumbled without looking up. They approached the counter, “Do you not get along with your family, or what? You seem so nervous.” Harvey looked up to meet the farmers eyes, “It’s not that- it’s just that they worry too much.” He explained, “You’re one to talk,” they teased, giving him a comfortable smile- hopefully to ease his stress. His eyes traced their hair and came back with, “You have a piece of hay in your hair,” He teased and sat up with a sigh. The farmer combed through their hair to find it, “And hey, I’m a doctor. It’s my job to worry, and I’m a full-grown man capable of making of my own decisions.” There was a brief pause before the farmer countered him, whispering, “Could have fooled me.” Harvey laughed. It seemed genuine for how nervous he was. Harvey was known to be a worrywart in town but seeing him nervous and stressed easily made the farmer pity him. “It’ll work out just fine. And they’ll be gone before you know it.”

A knock at the door startled them both and Harvey jumped from his chair to answer it. Standing there was an older man and woman. The man was taller than Harvey by about a few inches, and the woman standing next to him reached about chest height to the man. They both had gray hair and wore casual clothes- t-shirt and jeans, while the woman wore a green colored jacket. “Oh, my little Harvey! It’s so good to see you!” The woman, his mother, cooed to him. The farmer had to stifle their laughs before reaching out a hand to introduce themselves. “Nice firm handshake,” Harvey’s father commented to the farmer. “Name’s William, but you can call me Bill.” Harvey’s mother then chimed in, “And I’m Evelyn!” She smiled sweetly towards the farmer, and they knew where Harvey got his smile from.

Their time together went by really well- Bill was funny and didn’t let anyone catch a break from his teasing, which made Harvey nervous at times, but the farmer had no problem keeping up and teasing back. Evelyn was a sweet natured soul who actively worried about everything Harvey was doing and how he was doing it. Harvey had to explain a few times that he was very happy about where he was at in life, and that Pelican Town residents rarely got ill, and that seemed to ease her worries a bit.

“When are you guys going to get married then, huh? I don’t hear any wedding bells.” Bill joked towards Harvey. Harvey blushed a bright red, almost unable to speak. The way him and the farmer sat- it wasn’t convincing his parents at all. They sat a few inches apart from each other and barely acknowledged they even existed. Through Harveys nervous bout, the farmer scooted their chair closer and held his hand, “We’ve given it a lot of thought! But we both don’t feel like we’re ready.” The farmer remarked, swooping in to save Harvey a lot of potential trouble. Evelyn relaxed a bit, but said, “What’s the hold up? I mean, our little Harvey’s not going to get any younger!” Seeing the way Evelyn acted towards Harvey made the farmer laugh, but they stifled any chuckles to continue, “It’s mostly because I don’t have the farm set up enough to have him move in. It’s a lot of work to keep my farm stable and I want to make sure that he’ll be happy enough there to move in.” They explained, completely lying through their teeth. They tried to give a convincing smile, but with Harvey basically deflating on the spot- they had no idea what his parents were thinking of. “You two plan on having a family?” Bill tested as he watched the farmer and Harvey holding hands- albeit awkwardly. Man, what’s with these guys. Couldn’t we have just kept teasing more about Harvey as a kid? The farmer wished in their head. They opened their mouth to speak before Harvey interrupted, “Let’s just get through thinking about the wedding before starting a family!” He was still colored a deep red, unable to hide any of his blushing towards the awkward questions his family placed him in. Evelyn seemed a bit sad at all their answers but seemed satisfied enough to drop her prying.

After his parent’s interview, the evening went by really well! It wasn’t until it reached about 8pm that they decided to leave. With Harvey and the farmer now alone, they simultaneously sighed. “Mission successful?” The farmer asked, exhausted from putting on the show. Harvey feeling the same way, “I had a hard enough time trying to remember we were supposed to be a couple. You were basically one of them.” He laughed and rubbed his face with his hands. “You have no idea how hard I tried not to laugh when she brought up about how tiny you were as a baby.” He gave a loud moan as the farmer said this, “Please don’t make me remember.” Harvey pleaded, letting out a chuckle.

“Or how about the time you-“

“Don’t do this to me!”

[irenerei]

THING I HAVE NOTICED IN FALLIN’ FLOWER MV

The MV killed me in so many ways and I loved all the details and symbolism that tally with the lyric. It will be long so...

I did an short analysis of the lyric, can be found here 

The MV killed me in so many ways and I loved all the details and symbolism that tally with the lyric. Too bad I dont have good pausing skills so please play the MV while reading this if you like.

The chains that holding back Hoshi and Minghao tally to lyric about hardship endured during summer and rainy days. Or, i personally would think the chains are actually roots. I mean trees are rooted right?

Minghao and Hoshi’s intimate dance, notice that Hoshi is stretching out like a branch while Minghao’s twisting upwards to signify growth

A flash of Minghao and Hoshi’s dance that they are on the ground look like struggling it maybe symbolise bud growing out from the soil.

Wonwoo chained, i will express this further in the wonhui moment later

Woozi with Color stripes? looks like he is an artist struggling to express what it is his ideal of beautiful. It tally to lyrics and his life as producer and songwriter (PS : Black hair woozi majestic af)

Also I noticed that they Woozi 2 items, paintbrush and camera. Both are art producing tools, does it signifies Woozi capable to play instrument, songwriting and dance and sing? I think so.

Joshua being caved in a room. And Joshua have band aid on his face with small flower stick to his cheek. I have 2 ideas on this.

1. Hoshi’s lyrics “Wound will heal and bud will grow”

2.  If the MV is an AU of SVT, Joshua’s appearance might considered an mutant and then he locked himself away. Noticed how the room was all pieces that got shattered, he must have broken them to express his anger. To elaborate further, Joshua is the one of the foreigner in the group his culture is definitely different, who knows it tally to him struggling to fit in and worrying about if he is the weird one. In short, self doubt making oneself ignoring own beauty wtihhin  (Chinaline are foreigner too but I am talking about East and West Culture)

Seungcheol one was *deep breath. Idk I resonated alot. I do know this MV was filmed before he took rest from his activities, but him with white cloths surrounding and covering him from surroundings symbolise his hardships as a leader so much to me. It’s kinda like packaging up yourself so that others does not see the fragile side or yours. Just because being fragile/ having mental illness/ being weak is not mainstream enough. Also SeungCheol with his lines tally to SVT enduring trainee hardships so that they could debut and meet us Carats.

DK’s scene. I am not sure about this, but notice he is standing at center and globes are circulating around him. I hope I am wrong it signifies loneliness alot to me. Yes i do have friends or people around me but they dont really understand me and does not see me through aka does not really see the beauty. Or what if the globe are not friends, rather than those online backlashing  and evil commenting people?

Also DK scene seems to be the same set as Dino’s. what if globe are the hyungs? lmao. BUT in Dino’s scene we did not see globe 

Or if we wanna bring it deeper SVT, DK = SVT = idol and the globe orbiting are normal civilians/netizen.

Vernon’s scene somewhat reminds me of Thanks MV when they are in a room doing makeup lol. Maybe its the color scheme. Notice that Vernon also have flower growing from his hand. Tally to Vernon’s Korean-American blood in him. So for now English speaking line have flower growing from their body parts. ALSO THEIR ROOMS ARE CONNECTED!!!! (Camera work or editing  but omg)

Jun scene again i will express it during the wonhui scene. But to mention a bit, I am sure Jun = flower at this point. welp he is beauty he is grace XD.

Jeonghan being the angel chained was ommfph!!! I cannot wait for From of Therapy to react to this lol. I am think Jeonghan’s role in here is truly a fallen angel with his wings got vanished for some reason or whatever. So Angel without wings, still beautiful mainstreamly? Not quite. But still beautiful.

Mingyu on a plank with flowers around him. He is visual of the group after all do we need more elaboration?? lmao. But notice that the plank have noting to support on, its floating. So to me it kinda felt like South korea boy band industry rapid growth and such. His good looks of course is not going to stay or being talked as a topic forever. Visuals are not necessarily everything. OF course I am overeading on this but discussion are welcome.

Seungkwan scene, omg I cannot believe how simple yet beautiful it is. The message that I resonated was simple. As Seungkwan went through diet and exercise and health control with vitamins, I think he is admiring and has his own ideals of “beautiful”. He is holding the flowers dearly and also tightly, signifies his stubborn and dedication to be like the “beautiful= flower”

Ah mirror/reflecting glass, this is why I felt it is an aftermath of Fear MV. From Fear lyrics of fearing what I am, to embracing own beauty as flaw makes a part of it too. But the mirror thingy then turns to things for them to step. So, stepping your ownself/accepting your own self? i guess??

Mingyu having a flower shower is soft but rude af, also title callback

ALAS THE WONHUI MOMENT. So I mentioned Jun = falling flower/petals of sakura or other , so in my opinion Wonwoo = soil/ground. Notice that Wonwoo in earlier scene is holding to some dusts. For me it symbolise sakura/petals rot and turns to dust while the ground could only watch it fades away. Hence the whole Wonwoo’s angst acting on earlier scenes but when he saw Jun his expression got gentler. It is kinda like an annual rendezvous thing, “Hi! its been a year~!”  “I told you I will be back again *smiles”

That is why i felt it is a lowkey Wonhui fic, well played.

Them boys all gathering as one symbolise they got out of their shell (their respective scene = shell) and embrace beauty, making a LARGER PICTURE OF BEAUTIFUL.  yes I am implying SVT = BEAUTY here.

In short our boys are all beautiful entities, and thank you destiny making them gathered together to be as one group. 

I hope I did not miss anything, but if I do, its open for discuss.

[cashmereminter]

I Think I’m Going To Puke (Simon Minter)

requested:  Yes! Thank you! Requests are open Hi, there love! Can I get Simon & number 11 xx 11.“I think I’m going to puke…”

who: Simon Minter (Miniminter)

word count: 1,980

This is edited but poorly and also maybe this is a part one? I’m willing to do a part two of this if someone is interested in me writing that!

I’m not sure how I feel about this lmao. ________

You stared at the plastic stick in your hand in shock. You couldn't move. The only thing you could do was hold the stick in your hand. Even breathing seemed harder than it should be. You took the test as a joke. You were hanging out with Freya and Kirsty, Kirsty had a scare, and after buying about ten tests (and only using two to make sure she definitely wasn't pregnant (just late)), both you and Freya thought it would be jokes to take a pregnancy test. There was no way either of you could be pregnant. Of course not, you were safe, on the pill, and always made sure Simon was protected as well. You weren't dumb. But apparently, you had messed up somewhere because the little test in your hand said, in big bold letters, pregnant.

"Y/n! What's it say!" Freya called through the door, laughing with Kirsty in the background. The blonde was joking, but she didn't know your test didn't read out a big N O. You snapped from your thoughts and tossed the test in the trash can and left the bathroom hastily. The two girls looked up at you with bright eyes, ready to laugh and joke about how yours was negative too, and Kirsty was simply overreacting about being two days late. "Well?" Freya asked jokingly, raising one of her perfectly done eyebrows at you.

"I-I'm feeling ill. I think I should really just go home." You said, reaching to grab your bag. The two girls just looked at you with confused glances, but you just shook it off, grabbing your bag and your phone and leaving Freya's apartment without another word. You didn't bother getting an Uber home, as you just wanted to be alone with your thoughts for a while. You were nowhere near ready to be a mother and you were almost certain Simon felt nowhere near ready enough to become a father. You were both young and had only been together for about a year and a half. Sure, you loved him dearly, but children didn't have a place in your five-year plan. He was going to continue working with the Sidemen and making videos on his own. It was what he loved and you didn't mind. Even though sometimes there would be times where you couldn't see each other for a while, that was just apart of being in a relationship with Simon. As for you, you wanted to work on your career and just be young. You wanted to go out with friends and get drunk. You wanted to do the things a young person should be able to do. And now you were being tied down by something growing inside of you. You didn't notice the tears in your eyes until you stopped to look at yourself in a shop window. It was then that you decided you should just get a taxi home. You were way too tired to be walking anymore, and your apartment was quite a ways away. You don't know what you were thinking when you started walking in the first place.

Once you made it to your apartment, you walked inside and dropped your keys on the counter, sliding down against the wall and running your hand through your hair. How were you even supposed to tell Simon? 'Hey! We're having a baby even though we've never discussed this and our futures really don't have space to put a baby.' It sounded almost like a joke to you. Then a thought hit, maybe it was just a defective test. You pulled out your phone and did the only logical thing you could do at the time. Opened your Postmates app and postmated five other tests to your door. You locked your phone afterward so you couldn't rethink your decision. About fifteen minutes later there was a knock at your door. You opened the door to see a poor guy holding the bag nervously. You paid hastily and grabbed the back, shutting the door in the kids face so you could hurry into your bathroom.

With shaky hands, you waited for all the tests to be finished. The toilet seat was extremely uncomfortable, but so was the sinking feeling that you may be a mother. Soon, the timer went off o your phone signaling you to look at the rest of the plastic sticks. Tapping your fingers against your thigh, you bit your lip and finally stood up, deciding it was better to get it done and over with. Sure enough, all five tests read prominent plus signs, two lines, and just straight forward, the word pregnant. You sniffed but nodded your head. You just had to let it sink in. You needed to figure out what you needed to do. Who to tell. What to do. Just as panic was starting to set in, another knock was at your door. This time you had no idea who it could be since you hadn't ordered anything else and you definitely didn't invite anyone else over in your state of mind (though the idea of Freya coming over sounded lovely. She could always calm you down). You walked out of the bathroom, sticks in hand, and to the front door, not bothering to look through the peephole before throwing the door open, ready to curse out whoever it was.

The sight of your boyfriend at the door made your heart, stomach, and confidence drop to the floor. He stood with a bag of his own, but you could see it held flowers, candies, and a movie rental. He must've stopped at the store. You slowly looked up at him, noticing the concerned smile on his lips, and how his hair was messy. He probably was editing before he decided to come over. He looked tired, meaning he probably hasn't slept yet and wanted to fall asleep on you. That's what he always did. Overall, Simon looked like the boyfriend you were in love with, and that somehow made your heartbreak.

"Y/n?" Simon spoke. You shook yourself from your thoughts and looked up at him properly, realizing he must have been sleeping to you. "Freya said you weren't feeling well, but you didn't text me or call me. I was worried." He said, making his way into your home and closing the door behind him. You simply shuffled back, gripping the necklace you had on tightly, trying to swallow all your fear. "Are you okay? You look really pale?" He asked again, stepping closer to you this time. That's when he noticed the tests poking out of your grip. "A-are those pregnancy tests?" He asked, dropping the bags on the counter.

"I think I'm going to puke." You said, avoiding all the questions, dropping the tests onto the ground and then running to the bathroom for the second time. Simon followed after you, walking into the bathroom and grabbing your hair to hold back whilst you threw everything you ate lately back into the toilet. He rubbed your back softly, at least tried too. You noticed how shaky his hands actually were at the moment. You finished, flushed the toilet and then sat on the ground, not looking up at him until you felt him move to sit beside you. "I'm sorry." You whispered.

"There's no reason to be sorry Y/n, it takes two people to do this. We both should have been more careful." Simon said quietly. He was nervously tugging at his hair now. You hadn't even said the words, yet you both knew what the situation was. You were pregnant, with his child, and you didn't know what to think.

"This isn't how this was supposed to go." You whispered back, turning your head to look at him. The rims of his eyes were red as if he wanted to cry, and you didn't blame him for that. He reached over your lap and grabbed your hand, rubbing the back of it softly with his thumb as he brought it over to his lap. His hands were huge compared to your own, which was always something the two of you liked to joke about, and now the only thing you could think of was the fact that a babies hand would look much tinier in his hand. You were shaken from your thoughts as you felt his lips touch your knuckles. He looked into your eyes now, trying to read what you were thinking, but even you weren't sure. With everything racing around in your head it made you dizzy.

"You're right, it's not how it's supposed to go, but we can figure it out." He breathed out. "Things can't always work out perfectly, and sure our story is going to be out of order to some, but this is just how it was meant to go for us." He said. He wasn't sure if he was convincing you or himself, but somehow it was working. His hand dropped yours into his lap, letting you grip the edge of his shirt nervously as if you were holding him down so he couldn't run away from you. His fingers trailed up your arm and then down to your stomach where they danced around a moment and then he stopped and laid his palm flat against your belly. The movements made you tense, but the feeling of his warm hand against you made you melt almost. It was calming to feel him touch you in this stressful time. You were not far along at all, not even showing at this point, so Simon wasn't going to feel anything, but it was a warm sight to see.

"Parents." You said out loud after a moment of him just touching your belly. He nodded in response, looking away from your torso and up to your face. "Can we do that Simon. I don't want to stop you from pursuing your career. I don't want to change things. I love you, I don't want you to leave." You rambled nervously. Simon furrowed his eyebrows and shushed you silently. He moved his hand from your belly now, instead of placing it on your cheek to make you look up him me. When you looked up, his lips caught yours, making your heartbeat return to its normal pace.

"The only thing this is going to change is the fact that there's going to be more to love." He said, nodding slowly. "I mean, I'm sure other things are going to change, but I'm still going to be with the boys and filming. It's my job, I can't stop that. And you're going to continue with school and work." He said. It amazed you how easily he was taking this. He was obviously trying to be calm for the two of you and somehow it was working. He was good at this though. He really grounded you and helped when things got to be too much. "It's going to take some getting used to. And we have some things to talk about and discuss but we can do this Y/n. I promise you." He said confidently. Instead of answering you simply pressed your lips to his once more, wrapping your arms around his neck in an embrace. Once you pulled away he rested his forehead against yours and caressed your cheek with his thumb. After another moment of silence Simon pulled away and looked down at your stomach again, placing his large hand over your belly button (a habit he caught onto almost instantly after finding out).

"Family channels are banging right now actually." He said, trying to lighten the mood. His famous smirk rested on his lips making you giggle. You smacked his arm and scowled, shaking your head instantly.

"Simon Minter I am not exploiting our unborn child for views."

"Worth a shot."

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (3)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, youtuber phil lester, dan howell is not a youtuber, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.1k (this chapter), 9.5k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Interviews used to be Phil's least favourite part of this job. The research was always captivating, the filming was always fun, the editing was always challenging, but talking? To people? About things? Absolutely not.

He still doesn't love doing it, but he's long past the point of begging Martyn or Ian to pretend to be him on the phone.

The curtains in Phil's room are open for once, letting natural light in so he doesn't look as dark on the Skype screen. His eyes keep drifting to himself, distracting him as he tries to fix his hair or laments not getting out of his pyjamas. This is his fourth interview of the day, and he's starting to hate the process with a renewed fervour.

"Okay, thank you," he says, clicking out of the screen record window. "Can I message you here if I have any further questions, or would you prefer this to be your final statement?"

"Oh, um," the girl says, her eyes round with some kind of emotion that Phil can't be bothered to parse. "No, no, that's... that's all I saw. I don't have anything else. But you can still... message me, if you like."

Ah. Phil makes a face that he hopes reads as apologetic and not panicked. "No, I - sorry. Gay. Just interested in your ghost."

"Oh!" she says again, looking more puzzled than Phil thinks she has any right to after a forty minute conversation where he mostly just asked her clarifying questions that she kept dodging. She tucks some of her long hair behind her ear and shakes her head. "Sorry, that's just - you haven't said that online."

Phil isn't very good at knowing when people are lying to him, but now he's definitely suspicious of the half-assed testimony he'd gotten from this girl. He sighs. "Okay, you know who I am, then?"

"I mean, I looked you up when you messaged me about a video and all," she says. "Wanted to know if you were a creep or, like, legit."

Okay, that's fair enough. Phil supposes that if he were a girl in uni and a stranger asked to video chat, he'd also do a little digging first. He still doesn't quite believe her story, though - most of it matches what she'd written on Facebook, word for word, and she didn't go into detail on anything she claimed happened.

"Right, of course," says Phil, feeling awkward and exposed.

Her eyes are wide and blue and she can see into his room, into his life, and she's giving him this look like she thinks she knows something about him. He hates this feeling.

"That a secret, then?" she asks.

"No," Phil says. "It's just not relevant to my job. I don't have a lot of ghouls asking me out."

She doesn't laugh. Phil is getting more and more uncomfortable by the second, and he's wondering if it's worth it to hang up on a potential lead - no matter how dubious her claims - when she says, "Well, alright. I won't tell anyone anyway."

"Thanks," Phil says automatically. He doesn't particularly care if she does or not, but he does want this call to end as soon as possible. "And thanks for your time. Message me if you think of anything else you forgot to mention about the Wilkins place or if you know of someone who's seen something."

Before she can even respond, Phil hits end on the call and groans, resting his forehead on his thumbs for a moment.

Unsurprisingly, this is giving him a migraine. It doesn't take much to make the twinge of a headache turn to insistent throbbing, because Phil's body hates him and overreacts to everything.

Phil takes a couple of deep breaths before he comes out of hiding. He attaches the final screen recording to the email he's already got open and ready to send to Martyn. After a moment's thought, he CCs PJ and Sophie in and adds, Nobody sounds credible except the second person to me, so... it's not looking good lol, before hitting send.

He takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes for a moment. Interviews are still draining for him, especially when they don't go as planned, and Phil's starting to get the impression that there's nothing to even find at the Wilkins place.

But. Phil pauses, considers his options. He hasn't interviewed everyone, has he.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Phil shoves his glasses unceremoniously back onto his face and opens Tumblr. Winnie hasn't said anything to him so far today, so Phil feels only a little like he's bothering them when he shoots off a quick, Hey! I just finished interviewing the sources you gave me and most of them aren't very promising. Would you consider letting me ask you some questions to round out the video?

me?????, Winnie replies almost immediately. i didnt even see anything?? like im happy to answer questions but idk how much use ill b in an INTERVIEW

I know! And you don't have to lmao so don't feel pressured or anything but you know so much more about the place than they do. Everyone claimed that they didn't know other people were having paranormal experiences.

oh bullshit, Winnie says. Phil is surprised into a huff of laughter.

There's a part of Phil, fuelled by anxiety and uncertainty, that worries Winnie is just pulling an elaborate joke on him. That part of him feels a little more at ease every time he actually talks to Winnie. They just seem... genuine. And maybe Martyn would disagree, would blame Phil's desperation to see the best in people, but there's a reason Phil doesn't tell Martyn everything.

Before Phil can agree with Winnie's colourful derision, his laptop beeps again. i look like an ogre rn but i can voice chat if you rly think itll help

It would!!, Phil assures them. The tender spot behind his eyes twinges again, serving as a reminder. Can I call in like an hour? I've got a headache from the screen lol

sure i really have nothing else going on today

--

So it's later in the day, late afternoon light still streaking through Phil's window, when Phil sits back down at his computer and adds the Skype username Winnie gave him. His head still hurts a bit, but it isn't all-consuming now that he's had another coffee and some painkillers. The padded headphones feel good to put over his ears, blocking out most of the typical noises from such a full house and a busy street, and Phil just sits in the blissful quiet for a moment before he sends a voice call request.

It gets picked up almost immediately, and Phil presses a smile into his palm before he says, "Hi! Can you hear me alright?"

There's a beat. Phil waits, in case Skype is lagging as usual, but he's opening his mouth to repeat himself by the time he gets a response.

"Yeah," says Winnie. "I can hear you."

Phil isn't really proud of himself for being surprised by Winnie's voice. It's just. He knows his viewer demographics, okay, and he has a rough grasp on Tumblr demographics, and the name - alright. It isn't his proudest moment, is his point, because he's expecting a much higher pitch for absolutely no good reason.

In addition to that, his brain automatically tries to classify Winnie's voice as very obviously masculine, and Phil has to push back against that.

"I can hear you, too," Phil says cheerfully, not allowing his anxieties to spill over into the conversation.

"That's good, probably," Winnie says. There's another beat of silence, and then a huff that might be laughter or a sigh comes through Phil's headphones. "Sorry, I - I'm not trying to be fucking weird, this is just surreal."

"Is it?" Phil hums. "But I haven't even asked you about ghosts yet."

A snort - definitely laughter, this time - follows, and Phil is so glad that he's able to put Winnie at ease even if his brain is betraying him. "That's true. I guess it's gotta get weirder from here."

"That's kind of, like, the subtitle of my whole channel," says Phil. After a moment, he frowns. "Subtitle? No. What's the thing, on the poster -"

"Tagline," says Winnie. They sound so amused and warm and, okay, they've got a nice voice. That's not gendered. Phil can think that. "You're thinking of a tagline, you buffoon."

"Tagline," Phil echoes gratefully.

"Don't you," Winnie starts, then stops abruptly. They don't finish the sentence, but Phil can kind of guess what they were going to say. There's the sound of some rustling, like Winnie is getting comfortable, before they change tacks. "Again, I didn't see any of this alleged ghostly activity with my own eyes, but I know the hot goss."

Phil opens the recording program out of habit, nodding even though Winnie can't see him. "That's still really useful at this point," he says encouragingly. He clicks a couple of buttons. "And, yes, I do have an English degree. Thank you for not asking."

Winnie laughs, the sound of it filling Phil's headphones and making it feel like they're in the room with him. It's warm, like everything else about their voice, and absolutely contagious.

"I didn't want you to think I was, like, a big stalker," Winnie says, and Phil can hear the grin in their voice.

"Eh, I know you watch my videos," says Phil. "So I figure you know some stuff about me. You probably know that I'm going to ask this, too, but - is it okay if I record our conversation? I don't need to include it in the video if you don't want me to, but it's still useful for me if I don't so I can, like, actually remember the things you told me."

"Yeah, sure," Winnie agrees easily. They hesitate, for a moment, and Phil waits for whatever the caveat will be. "Uh, can I still swear?"

The question surprises Phil into laughing. "Yeah, you're fine. I can bleep them out."

"Then I am all for it. Ask me the ghost questions, ghost man."

Phil presses record and glances down at his notebook, where he's scrawled some disjointed questions alongside his usual doodling. "Uh, okay. Yes. I am totally a professional."

"If you say so, mate," says Winnie.

"Hush. Okay." Phil finally gets his brain back on track and taps his pen against a question near the end of his list. "So, Winnie, you did all this research into the Wilkins place on your own downtime, but you mentioned that you've been hearing murmurs about it for a while, right?"

"Not that long, actually, I've only been hearing about it since term started," Winnie says, and Phil is struck by how comfortable they suddenly are now that there's a guideline. Or, maybe, now that there's a non-Phil audience. "Which I thought was pretty weird, since I'd been there a couple times since I moved here, and it's a spooky fucking place but nothing to write home about."

That's more or less exactly how Phil feels about the situation, except that he doesn't remember the Wilkins place to be scary at all. Maybe it's gotten worse in the years since, or maybe he's just got a higher threshold for empty, decrepit homes than Winnie does. Either way, he's not sure if he should be relieved or suspicious that their thoughts on it mirror his own so well. He starts a spiral in the corner of his page as he considers the answer.

"So, you never got the impression that it was haunted before?"

"I - can I be perfectly honest?" Winnie asks, and then doesn't wait for a response. "I don't get the impression that it's haunted now. I dunno if people are just making shit up or if they're doing too many drugs, but we all know that ghosts don't actually exist."

Phil snorts. He does have a fairly large number of skeptics who watch his videos to argue in the comments about logical explanations for his findings or to just enjoy watching him fail so much, but he hadn't really expected that from someone who sent him a sourced essay on the topic of ghosts.

He's recording right now, so he's not about to give away the fact that, yeah, he kind of does agree with Winnie on this one. Instead, he keeps his tone neutral and says, "You don't believe in ghosts."

"I don't believe in most things that can't be explained by science," Winnie says, so matter-of-fact that Phil has to smile.

"I don't really believe in science," Phil says, mild.

A beat. "Excuse me?"

"I said I don't believe in science," Phil repeats, doubling down on the joke so he can hear that incredulous pitch of Winnie's nice voice again. "I mean, isn't it all just as made-up as anything else? People just tell us stuff exists and we have to believe them?"

"We believe them," Winnie says slowly, "because it's a fact."

"How do I know that?" Phil asks. He knows how off track he's already gotten, and he decides to cut this part out before he sends the file to Martyn or his friends.

"Because you can. See it. With your eyes." The genuine bewilderment in Winnie's voice is very funny. "Like. What the fuck, Phil. If someone drops an apple and it hits the ground and they're like, 'oh that's gravity', how are you supposed to say, 'uh, no it ain't'?"

Phil leans back in his chair a bit, his spiral turning into an apple. "Because, what if that's just what the apple wanted to do? It's not like we know any of this for sure, Winnie."

"You're fucking with me," Winnie says, but they don't sound very certain.

"I am," Phil admits happily. "Do you remember the first incident that kicked off the Wilkins place rumours?"

"You," Winnie says, and then cackles. They lean away from their mic as they do, but the sound of it still makes Phil feel some secondhand giddiness. He wonders if their laugh has a volume limit, or if it's just going to keep getting louder the funnier Phil is. He is so tempted to put that to the test. "Fuck. You little fucker."

Phil hides his own giggle in the palm of his hand and clears his throat, trying to get back into the professional mindset he'd forced himself to be in for the four earlier interviews.

"Do you need me to repeat the question?" Phil asks. He can't resist teasing, just a bit.

"No, fuck off," Winnie chuckles. They take a deep breath and let it out on a hum, low and thoughtful. "So, there was this shindig during fresher's, which I obviously didn't go to because I'm not a fresher and I'm too old to go to shindigs, but people were talking about how the house was making weird noises. A girl I know - I linked you to her Reddit post - said she saw someone just standing outside the window watching them, but, like, is that really a supernatural occurrence in Rusholme?"

"It's not. And she hit on me as well, so I'm not sure her judgement is trustworthy."

"Sounds like her. Sorry. Anyway, nobody really thought 'ghosts' as much as they thought 'rats in the walls and a pervert on the street', but then - this one didn't get spoken about online. I don't even know how valid it is."

"Word of mouth is how most ghost stories get passed," says Phil. "I'm not going to hold you to citations on rumours."

Winnie huffs a laugh. It's soft, quiet, and Phil almost wishes he could say something ridiculous to make them cackle again. Unfortunately, he has a job to do.

"Fair enough. Well, some idiots spent the night there to see if anything weird would happen," Winnie says, and Phil feels a bit attacked, "and three separate dudes had sleep paralysis."

Phil hums and jots some messy notes down. "In the same night?"

"At the same time," Winnie corrects him. "The other idiots were trying to wake them up for a long time, apparently. They're convinced that the guys who fell asleep were just pulling a prank on them, and maybe they were, but that's when the ball really got rolling."

Out of everything Phil has heard today, this is the most compelling story so far. Maybe that's a good indicator of the Manchester students being full of it - maybe there truly is nothing to find in the Wilkins place - but it piques Phil's interest anyway.

"For someone who only believes in cold, hard science, you're good at telling ghost stories," Phil says.

"Thanks," Winnie says, sounding pleased with themselves. "Learned from the best."

Phil is suddenly very, very glad that this isn't a video call, because he can't stop himself from smiling like an idiot. "Oh, is that what they're calling me?"

Another cackle. Phil doesn't remember the last time he made someone laugh so much without tripping over his own clown feet.

"I never said I was talking about you."

"Uh huh."

"Oh, shut up," says Winnie, and Phil can still hear the laughter in their voice. "Don't you have a bunch of questions to ask or something?"

Phil does. He has a whole list of questions that he should be following. He chews on his pen and looks at the doodle-covered list of things he's meant to ask Winnie. His head still hurts - maybe the extra caffeine didn't help after all - and all he really wants to do is take a nap.

"Yeah," Phil says, reluctant. "I've just got, like, a migraine. Can I call you back another time? This was a really great start."

"Oh, yeah, sure," says Winnie. They've dropped their voice down to something soft, like they're worried that they'll make Phil's headache worse.

"I'm actually going up to check the place out this weekend." Phil isn't sure what makes him say that. He meets up with sources in person, sometimes, but usually only if they've seen something with their own eyes. He just feels comfortable talking to Winnie, far more than he'd felt talking to the other students he'd interviewed today.

Phil doesn't actually extend the invitation, and Winnie either doesn't pick up the hint or doesn't care to.

"That'll be good," they say, still soft. "Get some rest, Phil, you can call me back when your brain stops trying to drill a hole through your temple."

After Phil says goodbye and hangs up, he sits at his desk for a long moment. It feels too quiet, all of a sudden, his padded headphones blocking out all the ambient noise around him. It's good for his head, but Phil is still weirdly disappointed.

[emybain]

After Archenemies 3/?

In honor of not getting on Tumblr tomorrow, here is part 3 of whatever this is to anyone who liked the first two parts. In all honesty idk what this part is, and it might be a little soon for what follows, but I wasn't planning on making this fic long anyways so...yeah. Here is part 1 and here is part 2 if you care. feel free to check out my other works also! enjoy! warning: I dont really edit these that much, so please be kind if you see errors! this is also shorter than what I usually write, just fyi.

Edit: heck i forgot to post the links to the previous parts...ill do it later lmao

Nova’s communicator band had gone off three times in the past hour. She had taken it off and set it on her mattress after it first went off. She didn't need the distraction, especially if that distraction was Adrian Everhart.

“Why are you still staring at that thing?” Nova looked up to see Honey in the doorway of their shared room, leaning against the cracked door frame. She was examining her polished nails. “If you look at it any longer, the filthy Renegade will be able to turn back to normal.”

Nova pushed back the chair she was sitting on in front of Honey’s vanity where Danna’s butterfly was currently trapped. It remained immobile for the most part. When Nova would start to worry if it had died, it would crawl around its little prison. “Just thinking.” About her uncle. About how they would be able to free him from the Renegades. About Nightmare. About a certain Renegade boy.

She closed her eyes, feeling a headache forming at the base of her neck.

“Well, you can think and answer your little Renegade buddies.” Honey gestured towards the communicator band resting on top of a jewelry box. “That ringing is driving me nuts. I can hear it all the way downstairs.”

Nova rolled her eyes, but picked up the band nonetheless. “It’s only gone off three times, Honey. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Me? Not dramatic?” Honey laughed, the sound like bells. “In your dreams, sweet girl.” She strutted into the room, reached over Nova, grabbed a magazine that was open on her vanity, and sauntered back out. Her perfume lingered, stronger than ever. Nova waved her hand in front of her face. Vintage fumes were the last thing she needed for her aching head.

Her communicator band went off again, and she heard Honey yelling from the first floor to shut it off before she did. Nova looked down at the device, scrolling through her notifications. The first one, nearly an hour ago, was from Adrian.

This is last minute, but we’re meeting in the HQ library in about 30 minutes, Let me know when you get here. It’s about Nightmare.

Nova froze. That couldn’t be good. This was it, she thought. They figured her out, and this was Adrian trying to lure her into a trap to arrest her.

Taking a deep breath, she checked the next message, which was sent twenty minutes after the first.

Nova? Are you busy? If not, please respond.

The third one was five minutes after the first.

Of course you’re busy. You would’ve responded by now. Ignore my last message.

The most recent text was sent two minutes ago.

Nova? We’re all here. You’re not dead or something, are you? Please tell me you aren’t because I would be really upset.

Nova snorted, shoulders relaxing in relief. She believed she was safe, for the time being. She bit her lip, thinking of a response.

Hey. Sorry. Turns out I’m pretty sick, and my uncle took anything that could distract me so I could rest.

Nova thought back to a few days before, when she had pretended to feel under the weather in order to have an excuse to leave the visit to Max. She couldn’t stand to be there any longer without being weighed down by the guilt. It was a believable lie. Besides, she didn’t have time to do detective work with Adrian on her secret identity, nor did she have the patience for it. The quicker she and the rest of the Anarchists figured out a way to free Ace, the sooner she could drop the ridiculous Renegade charade.

Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want me to come by later to give you some company?

The smile that grew on Nova’s face was inevitable, along with the giddy spark in her stomach. She suppressed it though, and denied his offer, pushing away all thoughts of being able to curl up against Adrian while they did something as mundane as watching a movie.

No, thank you though. My uncle is pretty strict whenever I get sick and doesn’t like visitors. Maybe another time?

She received a response almost immediately.

Definitely! I hope you get to feeling better, Nova.

It was so sweet. Nova’s heart ached. Even though she wasn’t sick, she had a feeling she would feel better soon anyways.    

Thanks, Adrian.

Nova sent the text. She debated on whether or not to send something else. Something came to mind, and she immediately cringed. Then Ace’s words floated through her mind. Earn his affection.

Well.

With a defeated sigh, Nova reluctantly sent a text with a heart.

Sweet rot, her IQ just dropped by 20.

Downstairs, Honey started singing. Nova suspected she was cleaning; she tended to sing when fixing up the old house. Nova groaned. Honey wasn’t a terrible singer, but it did not mix well with Nova’s pounding head. Maybe she was actually getting sick.

Standing from the vanity, Nova brushed off her leggings. The butterfly was moving in its prison, crawling lazily along the side of the glass. Nova bent down to eye level with it. She could’ve sworn it made eye contact with her.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she murmured. “Maybe in a different reality we’d be friends.” She meant it, much as she hated to admit it to herself. Danna was a lot like her; it was a shame they were too alike, for that’s what got Danna trapped in the first place.

Nova sighed and rose back up. She took off her communicator band, then reached for her coat lying on the bed and headed downstairs. Honey’s trilling voice grew louder. She was singing some song about the beauty of the southern countryside.

Leroy was seated in the dimly lit kitchen, surrounded by lab equipment. Nova saw the samples of Agent N she had snatched in the past few weeks. He nodded in Nova’s direction as form of greeting, too engulfed in his work. As Nova suspected, Honey was cleaning. She was standing on a towel on top of the counter, wiping a wet rag across the higher cabinets.

Nova cleared her throat. “I’m going for a walk. You guys need anything while I’m out?”

They both chorused a “No.” Nova nodded.

“I’ll be back, then.”

“Hey, Adrian...um… come check this out,” Ruby whispered hesitantly from the computer across his. Adrien looked up from his communicator band, the faint trace of a smile on his lips from Nova’s last text. The heart was unexpected, and frankly, not like Nova at all, but it radiated Adrien’s body in warmth. The concentrated set in Ruby’s eyes made the smile fade, however.

They were in the Renegade library and archives, doing research on Nightmare. Adrian had about five open tabs about her most recent sightings and activity. One of the tabs was an article discussing the identity of the Anarchist, but the information was of no use to Adrian.

He got out of his chair and walked around the table to stand behind Ruby. Next to her, Oscar leaned over, craning his neck to see the screen. There was an unopened file in front of Ruby.

“So I was thinking about what you told us, about Nightmare being Ace Anarchy’s niece?” Adrian nodded, and Ruby continued. “Well, his last name is Artino, correct?” Adrian nodded again. “I looked up the name, and well, I guess you should see for yourself.” She clicked on the file. It was a report from about ten years ago filed by his own dad, Hugh Everhart.

Four people found dead. David Artino: age 31. Tala Artino: age 30. Evie Artino: age 11 months. One unnamed man: age unknown. Suspected Anarchist or Roach affiliation.

Forensics confirm all deaths were a result of direct trauma from bullet wounds, without prodigy interference. Prints found on the gun matched both those of the unnamed man and also those of Alec Artino (alias: Ace Anarchy).

There is reason to suspect the deaths of the three family members were done as a killing for hire. The motive for the homicide remain under investigation. See the full report as filed by Hugh Everhart (Captain Chromium) here.

Additional notes: The eldest child, a six year old girl, was not found at the scene. Neighbors have reported no knowledge of her whereabouts. A report has been made to the Renegades missing persons unit.

Oscar whistled lowly. Ruby had highlighted the last paragraph. She was watching the two boys, lips pursed. Adrian read the report, over and over again. Something about it wasn’t right.

“Was the girl ever found?” Oscar asked. Ruby answered his question by opening another file. This one was a missing persons form, dated ten years ago. 

Name: Nova Jean Artino

Age: Six (6) years old

Height: Unknown

Weight: Unknown

Description: Black hair, blue eyes, parents were Italian and Filipino.

Status: Not found

If any information is known, contact the Renegades Missing Persons Unit.

Below the information was a fuzzy picture of a girl, taken by an outdated camera probably. She grinned at the person behind the camera, a wide gap below her upper lip where two front teeth should have been. In her arms was a newborn baby, fast asleep in her sister’s arms. Adrian let out a small gasp. He took the mouse from Ruby and zoomed in on the girl’s face. Her features were chubby, but the hard set of her jaw was unmistakable.

“Great skies,” Oscar breathed. “That’s not...it can’t be..”

“It is,” Ruby confirmed, disbelief in her voice. “That’s our Nova.”

[doomedhowell]

Let The Games Begin [Repost]

Summary: The Hunger Games is happening once again. Phil Lester has never been interested due to his grandpa shielding him away from most of it. But now, Phil wants to learn more about the Games. Then, he meets a boy from District 6 who has been chosen to take part in The Hunger Games. Phil becomes attached, and he’ll do anything to help keep this boy alive. Genre: AU, Angst with a happy ending Word Count: 8,586 Triggers/Warnings: swearing, minor character deaths

A/N: I wrote this way back in 2016. I recently rewatched the hunger games, and decided to read this again. Then, I realized that there were so many mistakes and decided to edit the whole thing. I only edited the fic, didn’t change much (but I did add a few things here and there). I hope you enjoy this fic (because I low actually do, and would love some feedback on it lmao).

[READ ON AO3]

“Grandpa Snow, are we going to find out who all the tributes are today?” Sixteen year old Phil Lester asks as he excitedly walks into his grandfather’s large office. “Yes Phil, we are going to meet the tributes,” Snow answers, sighing as he looks over at the small boy. “Can I go with you to the arrival?” Phil asks hopefully. “You know you aren’t allowed to go,” Snow says. “But grandpa, I never get to go. Can’t I go just this one time?” Phil begs. “Tell me, why do you want to go so badly?” Snow asks curiously, crossing his arms against his chest as he leans back in his chair, watching as his grandson sits down in the chair in front of him. “Because,” Phil starts. “Everybody else gets to go and meet the tributes, and everybody else gets to go to the parties and mingle with each other, while I’m stuck here in this boring mansion.” “Boring?” Snow scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “You should be grateful you live in a place like this.” “No, I am! I’m sorry, Grandpa,” Phil says quickly, “It’s just… it gets a bit boring sometimes. I’m lonely.” Whilst Phil truly did love living in this mansion, he is constantly stuck in it because his grandpa protective and he doesn’t want anything to happen to him, which Phil does understand considering how many deaths a day there were in the districts and even sometimes the Capitol. The mansion is still boring and Phil doesn’t have any friends because he can’t exactly go anywhere. “Phil, you know it’s too dangerous for you,” Snow says. “I’ll stay close to you then. Hire a bodyguard… or something,” Phil shrugs. Snow finally sighs in defeat, and thinks quietly for a moment. “Alright. You can go… but just this once. But, I cannot babysit you. I’ve got very important things to do with the Games drawing nearer each day. Understood, Philip? If anything happens, you’ll be brought straight back to the mansion,” he warns. Phil gasps and nods excitedly. “Thank you, thank you!” He exclaims excitedly, standing up. “Now go and find Vivian. She’ll help you find something to wear for tonight,” “Thank you so much Grandpa! You won’t regret this,” Phil grins and then instantly runs out of Snow’s office, off to find Vivian, who is basically like a mother to Phil. She cares for him, and she’s just their maid. Phil’s parents died when he was very little because of illnesses, so he was forced to live with his grandpa, who just happens to be the President of the Capitol, President Snow. You either love and adored him, or you hated him. Sometimes people told Phil they were sorry for him, that he had to live with the old man. But honestly, Phil doesn’t care what those people say or what they thought of his family. Grandpa Snow cares for him, and that’s all that matters to Phil, since he’s pretty much the only family he has left. **** “Phil, you look dashing,” Snow says once he sees Phil walk down the stairs, wearing a white suit. Phil smiles as he looks up at his Grandpa, not being to stop himself from blushing. “Thank you, Grandpa. Vivian picked it out for me. It’s weird wearing a suit though,” he says. “You’ll get used to it. Now, come. We need to get going. Hurry up,” Phil smiles, and then he follows Snow out of the mansion. **** Now they were waiting for the tributes from each district to arrive in the Capitol. Phil’s very excited, although surprisingly, also nervous. He can’t help but feel sorry for all these kids, because he knew that all but one were going to survive The Hunger Games. Phil’s definitely very thankful that he doesn’t have to go through any this, since he was the President’s grandson. “They’re coming!” Phil squeals excitedly as he sits in his seat next to Snow. “Philip,” Snow warns as he gave Phil a stern look. “That’s not how we behave.” Phil immediately goes still and looks down at his hands. He completely forgot that they were pretty much in front of the whole Capital and the districts, and he really doesn’t want to embarrass his grandpa, but can you blame him for being so excited? This was his first time witnessing this event live. Phil looks up a moment later and smiles when he hears Caesar Flickermen speaking, and then he sees the districts coming in. He sits up a little bit more so that he can get a better look of everyone. “Here from our sixth district, Daniel Howell and Louise Pentland!” “Wow, look at him…” Phil whispers quietly to himself, his eyes went wide with shock, as soon as he saw the brown haired boy come out. He’s the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen. Phil has never told anyone that he’s gay, especially not his grandpa. Because he knew that he wouldn’t get a supportive reaction. He didn’t want to jeopardise any of the life that he’s living right now. Besides, it isn’t a big deal… what boy would be interested in him, anyways? Phil doesn’t pay attention to any of the other tributes, he can only keep his eyes on Dan Howell. **** “This party is huge,” Phil whispers quietly to himself as he looks around. It’s now after the arrival of the tributes, he’s finally at the welcoming party that’s being held in the Capitol. There were so many press and paparazzi here. Everybody wants to see and talk to all the new tributes. Phil never knew that it was such a big deal, even though he had a small idea of it. “Oh, sorry…” Phil mumbles as soon as he accidentally bumps into someone. He looks up and his eyes immediately went wide with shock when he saw that it was none other than Dan Howell himself. “I-It’s okay,” Dan speaks quietly, blushing deeply. Dan isn’t used to speaking to many people like this, because even though he came from district 6, he’s terribly shy and reserved, and likes to keep to himself. “You’re Dan Howell? From District 6?” Phil asks. “Nice to meet you.” “Who are you?” Dan asks, blinking a few times. “Oh, sorry about that. I’m Phil Lester, President Snow’s grandson,” Phil introduces himself, smiling. “You’re President Snow’s grandson?” Dan asked, clearly shocked to hear this. “Yeah… I get that reaction a lot,” Phil says, sighing quietly. “So, what are you doing here then?” Dan asked. Normally Dan wouldn’t strike up a conversation like this, but he can’t help but be quite interested in this boy. Phil seems like someone that he would get along with. He only has one best friend back home, and that was Louise. The fact that he’s going to lose her absolutely breaks his heart. Either she and him would die in the Games, or only one of them would live. “I never get to go to these parties, Grandpa Snow is very protective of me,” Phil explains. “I asked him if I could come tonight and he finally said yes. I’m really glad that I got to come tonight though.” “President Snow, protective of someone?” Dan scoffs. “I find that hard to believe,” “I wish people wouldn’t talk about him like that in front of me,” Phil mumbles. “Oh, I’m sorry… it’s just… can you blame me? It’s his fault that we’re here in the first place,” Dan says. “I guess I can understand that,” Phil nods. “But that’s not how I see it.” “Well, you actually live with him and see him more often than any of us… so maybe you see a different side to him then us,” Dan says, sighing when he hears his name called. “I guess that’s my cue to leave. Will I see you around?” He bites his lip. He hopes this wouldn’t be the last time he sees Phil Lester. “Yeah,” Phil smiles and nods. “You definitely will.” “See you later,” Dan bids goodbye, and then turns around and walks away without saying another word. “Lester,” Phil looks over and then he sighs when he saw that it was one of the bodyguards that Snow hired for him. “What now?” Phil sighs, crossing his arms against his chest. “President Snow wants you back at the mansion as soon as possible,” “But why? The party is just getting started! I want to meet all the tributes,” Phil argues. “Tributes aren’t here to be your friend, Lester. Let’s go now, or we’ll do it the hard way,” Phil huffs angrily, walks pass the bodyguard, and storms out of the room. Phil already knew what would happen if Snow got angry or upset with him, so he wasn’t going to argue with anyone. He isn’t an idiot. He’s actually seen how his grandpa treated people from the other districts. And Phil definitely doesn’t want to get on his grandpa’s bad side. *** “How come the tributes have to do this?” Phil asks curiously. “We need to evaluate them so we can learn what their special skills are for the Games,” Plutarch sighs, as he crosses his arms against his chest, Phil’s been asking a million questions about the Games, which is already annoying Plutarch. Phil is definitely a curious person, and he isn’t afraid to show that. Phil raises his eyebrows, but then shrugs his shoulders. Phil has been showing a lot of interest in the process of The Hunger Games, so Snow finally is allowing him to tag along with Plutarch for the day. Phil hopes to see Dan today as well. It’s been a few days since they have last run into each other and Phil misses him, even though they have only spoke a few minutes, Phil can’t stop thinking about the boy from District 6.. Phil knew there would be a chance that he would never get to see him again, which is one of the main reasons why he wanted to see him again, at least once more before the Games. “Dan Howell, District 6!” Phil’s head immediately perks up when he hears Dan’s name being announced. He bites his lip nervously as he looks over at the door, and then he takes a deep breath when he sees Dan walk out. “You have ten minutes to perform your skill,” Phil hears a voice call. Dan glances up and smiles a little when he sees Phil, to which Phil gives him a little wave and a smile. Knowing that Phil is there definitely calms Dan’s nerves a little. *** The next day they’re at the training center, where the tributes spend the day training for the Games that will be starting in less than four days now. Phil can’t believe how soon the Games were happening, and part of him is a little sad because a lot of the tributes were quite nice and lovely. Phil looks around the room, seeing that all the tributes were already working and training. He smiles when he spots Louise across the room, and he instantly walks over to her, where she is working on trying to start a fire. The only thing that’s currently on his mind is Dan, he wants to see Dan at least one more time before the Games start. They barely know each other, but Phil is so attached to the boy. “Hi,” Phil speaks once he reaches Louise. Phil knows that Louise is Dan’s best friend from back home. Louise glances over when she hears the voice and smiles shyly when she sees Phil. “Hi,” “I’m Phil,” Phil introduces politely before he shakes hands with Louise. “Do you know where Dan is?” “He’s over there,” Louise tells him kindly as she points over at Dan, who was currently throwing knives into one of the walls. Phil looks over and raises his eyebrows as soon as he sees Dan. He really didn’t expect Dan to be so good with knives. Though Dan did get a ten for throwing knives at the evaluation. “Thank you,” Phil gives Louise a smile before walking to Dan, being sure to stay back a little though, as Dan was throwing knives, and Phil doesn’t want to get in his way. “Hi.” Phil finally speaks after a moment. Dan looks up in surprise, not expecting to see Phil in the training center, especially with the other tributes, “Hi,” Dan replies, not looking Phil in the eyes while speaking. “Can I help you?”  He asks, a bit harsh. Dan surprises him with his harsh tone. Before, Dan seemed so open to talking with him. “Um, not really, it’s just that… I didn’t expect you to be so good at this.” He shrugs. Dan gives Phil a fake sad face, and then scoffs,  “You watched me in the evaluation, you should know…”  With that, Dan walks away. He doesn’t want to get to attached to Phil, after all he is going to die. Dan looks for Louise, he knew where’d she be, and of course, he finds her with the camo paints. Before this all happened, Dan would watch her paint for hours back in District 6, he found peace in doing so. “Louise?” Dan speaks quietly, trying not to startle her. Louise’s head perks up as soon as she hears Dan’s soft voice. “Oh, Dan!” Louise exclaims excitedly. “Look at this… it’s absolutely amazing,” she picks up her hand and places it against a fake willow tree. Her hand perfectly blends in with it. Dan smiles slightly as he watches her show off her skill. Of course Dan is very happy for Louise, having this beautiful skill that would be useful in the Games… but, they both knew that she wouldn’t be the one winning the Games and with that depressing thought, Dan lets out a sad sigh, and then he plops down next to her. Dan needs a break anyways. Phil was hurt by the way Dan had just treated him. He doesn’t understand why Dan had just done that, and then walked away from him without saying another word to him. He thought they were friendly towards each other? Perhaps Phil said something before that upset Dan, or he did something wrong. Phil has absolutely no clue, and honestly, his feelings were hurt. Phil sighs as he nervously stands there, looking around, unsure of what he should do now. He was hoping to talk to Dan a little more, but it seems that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe Phil could try one last time. Phil hesitates before walking over to where Louise was, glancing at Dan once before looking back at her. “What are you doing?” Phil asks curiously, watching Louise. Louise looks over at Phil and age gives him a friendly smile. “Oh, this? Camo. It’s paint, and you can paint on yourself so it helps you to hide from the others. It seems to work. I’ve done this a lot back in District 6, right Dan?” She looks up at Dan and frowns slightly when he just shrugs. The way he was behaving now is totally unlike him, but she tries not to worry about it and focuses on her training. Phil sighs quietly as he watches Dan, and then he looks over when his bodyguard walked over to him. “You’ve been ordered to leave Lester,” the bodyguard says. Phil frowns. “But Grandpa Snow said I could stay for a few hours,” he protests quickly. “This is very serious, Lester. We’re getting complaints you’re distracting the tributes from their training. You’re going to have to leave so they can train for the Games. You, out of everyone, must know this,” Louise gives Phil a sympathetic smile before she returns to her training. Phil looks back at Dan one last time, before he follows the bodyguard out of the training center. Phil just hopes that he will be able to catch Dan one last time before the Games. He feels determined. *** “This place is so cool!” Phil exclaims as he walks into the tributes center with President Snow. “Settle down Phil, we talked about this,” Snow warns, looking down at Phil sternly. “S-Sorry grandpa,” Phil mumbles. “Where will I go while you do your um, business?” “You’ll stay down here and Vivian will watch you,” Snow tells him. “Grandpa, I’m sixteen years old. Do I really need to have a babysitter?” Phil groans. “The night before the Games? Yes,” Snow sighs. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” “Okay,” Phil smiles as he watches Grandpa Snow walk off with a few other important people. “You’ll let me know if you need anything?” Vivian asks. Phil nods in response. “Of course. I’ll just be around here somewhere. Can I go outside?” “I suppose, but stay close. President Snow will have a fit if you go off too far,” Vivian shakes her head. “I know,” Phil sighs as he watches Vivian walk into one of the lounges. Phil looks around quickly, and then his eyes light up the second he sees Dan walk out of the elevator. Even though Phil is still pretty upset about how Dan treated him a few days ago, but he still wants to say hi at least one last time before the Games, and hopefully they’ll be able to talk a little more this time. Phil takes a deep breath before he walks over to Dan. “Dan. Um-” Phil hesitates as Dan looks up at him, hoping that Dan won’t blow him off this time. Dan seems to be in a much more calmer mood this time “Um, I-I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what happened the other day at the training center.” Dan starts to open is mouth to speak but quickly stops himself and looks down at his hands. “No it’s okay, I was the one acting cold towards you. I should be the one apologizing to you,” Dan lets out a small breath before continuing, “It’s just… I didn’t want to get attached to you, because you and I both know that we won’t see each other again after the Games start.” Phil and Dan were silent for a moment before Phil speaks up again. “Look Dan, I know you don’t want to get attached to anyone but can we at least pretend to be friends, just for tonight, please?” Phil hasn’t gone against his grandfather’s orders for nothing. Dan is someone that he cares about. Dan looks up and Phil, and luckily gives him a nod. Then gently pats the spot next to him, waiting for Phil to sit as well. They sat for a while, listening to the slight breeze and the people of the Capitol below them. “Hey Dan, can you tell me about your life back in your district?” Phil asks quietly. Phil has always heard stories about what happened in the districts, but he never knew how much of the stories were true. Dan is quiet for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I guess I can, but you know it might take a little bit…” He hopes that will get Phil to change his mind, as a lot of bad things happened in his past back home. But Phil just lays back and says, “Then we better get started.” Dan leans against the pillar behind him and tries to pick a place for him to start. The day his dad unfortunately left comes to mind, he finally begins speaking. “Well... the week I turned twelve years old, me and my little brother, Alex, went to visit my dad at his job. He fixed trains and he would make sure that the control systems worked. We looked for his train, and when we finally found it, people were crowded around it. I grabbed Alex’s hand and pushed us to the front and when we got there…” Dan’s eyes stung, as he’s trying his best not to cry. The memories were painful to relive. “My dad… H-He was mangled in between the train cars,” he stops for a moment. “Neither of us could move as we watched the peacekeepers dragged his body away.” Dan finally looks up at Phil, who looks almost as if he was crying, and Dan wonders why he himself wasn’t crying yet. He has just talked about his father’s death after all, maybe it’s because at this point he had nothing to cry about, his life was pretty much over. “I-I’m sorry Dan, that must of been really awful for you and your family. I can’t even imagine what that would be like to see that at such a young age,” Phil frowns. Phil has also lost his parents at a young age, so he definitely knows what Dan is going through, in some ways. But Phil doesn’t remember his parents. Phil looks over at him and asks if he would continue the story, Dan nods. “After that, Alex  stayed in most days. He would help my mom clean the house or make all of us dinner, and I learned how to use throwing knives to hunt for my family…” He closes his eyes for a moment, remembering what it felt like to go running through the forest, being happy and free back in District 6. ”Then, I started writing. I found that I was really good at it. I would write whole stories in a day, sometimes I would go out into the woods and write there. I found it much easier. For some reason, I loved the trees. Every day I would just run through them for hours.” At this point, there were no stopping the tears now. Dan desperately wants to be home with his family. He would give anything to smell the pine trees again, he hates how life played with him like a puppet. Nothing was okay anymore, nothing at all.

Suddenly, Dan feels a pair of arms snake around his waist, and he’s shaken out of his thoughts. He looks and sees that it’s just Phil wanting to comfort him. Phil’s warm, and he even smells faintly like that smell that he missed so much, Phil is lucky that he doesn’t ever have to go through the Games. ”I’m so sorry Dan… I really am. I know you can win. Do it for your brother, do it so you can go home and run through the forest again.” They stay hugging. And, for a single moment, Dan thinks that maybe he actually has a chance of winning the games, for the first time since his name was drawn at the reaping. “Phil, I’m getting tired,” Dan yawns after he spoke. “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up,” Phil has a faint blush on his cheeks. Though, a huge part of him wishes that he could stay with Dan all night, but he knows that Dan needs as much sleep as possible. “It’s okay. I didn’t mind being out here with you. Actually… I was thinking maybe would you come with me. I don’t think that I can sleep on my own after talking about my dad,” Dan looks down at his hands shyly. “Of course. Come on then, let’s go!” With that, Phil gently grabs Dan’s hand and they walk to his room, luckily nobody sees Phil go into Dan’s bedroom with him. He was sure they would have gotten in trouble. Phil manages to stay for a few hours with Dan, slightly thankful that Dan had fallen asleep before he left, because Dan was still a little shaken up after talking about his father’s death and District 6. Phil desperately wants Dan to win now more than ever. He truly cares about Dan, even if they have only known each other for less than a week. Phil just feels so attached to the boy, and he absolutely hates that Dan is going into the Games, there’s a ninety nine percent chance that he isn’t going to make it out alive. But, Phil has hope. Phil believes in Dan, that he’ll make it through to the end. “Where have you been?” Vivian asks with frustration when Phil finally walks back out to the entrance. Phil blinks a few times, Vivian startling him slightly. “Um, I=I was... outside,” he’s partially telling the truth. He has been outside, but he can’t tell her that he’s been upstairs with Dan, cuddling, specifically. “Outside? I looked everywhere for you. We’re supposed to be leaving in fifteen minutes,” Vivian sighs and shakes her head. “This is exactly why President Snow never brought you to these things, you know?” Phil frowns as he looks up at Vivian. “I’m sorry, alright? I just got distracted is all. This place is massive, and I can explore it for days. I’m always stuck in the mansion so I was kind of taking advantage of being outside while I can be,” he mumbles. “It’ll only get worse when the Games start.” “At least let me know where you’re going to be at next time,” she warns. “Okay,” Phil crosses his arms against his chest and sighs. “Sorry for snapping… but can you blame me? It’s the night before the Games start and things get crazy during these times. President Snow would literally murder me if anything happened to you,” Vivian says. “Do you think I could go with Dan before he leaves for the Games?” Phil blurts out. “Dan? As in Dan Howell?” Vivian asks, and Phil nods. “Have you been speaking to him?” “Um, well… kind of, not really. We’ve only spoken to each other a few times-” Phil quickly tries to lie. “But… I want to see him one last time before he goes into the Games. Please, can I?” He asks hopefully. “That’s something you’ll have to talk with President Snow about,” Vivian says. Phil begs and pleads before President Snow finally agrees for him let him to be with Dan before he enters the arena. Dan told him the night they were cuddling that nobody would be there for him. Their mentor is going to be with Louise, and so Phil feels bad that nobody will be there to comfort Dan. Dan and Phil only have two minutes to spare with each other before the Games start. Phil’s very nervous, but he can’t even imagine how Dan’s feeling at that moment. Dan must be so nervous and so scared. “You look amazing,” Phil whispers as he stands with Dan. “Thanks,” Dan blushes at Phil’s kind words. “I don’t feel amazing though. I’m about to go into battle.” “I know,” Phil sighs sadly, and then he hesitates before reaching over and taking Dan’s hand in his. “Aren’t there cameras around here?” Dan asks, immediately looking up at Phil with wide eyes. “I’ll deal with my grandfather later. I just want to be with you,” Phil mumbles. It’s silent for a moment between the two, before Dan suddenly flings his arms around Phil’s neck and hugs him tightly., surprising Phil by his action. But, Phil doesn’t hesitate to hug the boy back. “You’re going to win,” Phil whispers as he holds onto Dan tightly. “How can I?” Dan cries, sniffing a few times. “You’ve seen the other tributes…” “Hide, okay? Just hide and you’ll be fine,” Phil takes a deep breath. “Only go out when you need to.” “One minute…” Phil closes his eyes as he continues to hold Dan, knowing that he needs as much comfort as he can get right now before all hell breaks loose in the Games. Phil wishes that he could just take Dan far away from here and take him somewhere where he would be safe, with no chance of being killed by anyone. “Okay Dan, just get what you need, and then get out. Don’t kill anyone unless you have to. Just go hide, and make sure you have enough food and water to last you. You don’t have to kill anyone,” Phil whispers, knowing that killing is the one thing that Dan has been worrying about this whole time. Dan nods and he takes a deep breath before he pulls away from Phil. “Thank you…” He whispers as he looks up at him. “For being here for me today, I mean. I didn’t have anyone unlike Louise does. Everybody loves her and nobody cares about me-” Dan sighs sadly. “I care about you… I wouldn’t have been anywhere else,” Phil smiles. “I know you can win this.” “You seem to be the only person who has faith in me,” Dan sniffs. “I know the other tributes want to work with you, so if they offer you a deal, take it when you need it, okay? I’ll be cheering for you no matter what happens though,” Phil promises. “At least I know someone will be cheering for me,” Dan mumbles. “Of course. I don’t care about those other tributes. I only care about you,” Phil tells him. “Do you really mean that? Or are you just saying that?” Dan asks, tilting his head slightly. “Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?” Phil asks, blinking a few times. “Thank you,” Dan hugs him one last time. Phil steps away when the countdown from twenty seconds started. He watches as Dan got into the tube and then it locks. Phil waves to Dan, while giving him a smile of reassurance. “Good luck,” Phil says, even though Dan probably couldn’t hear him. Twenty seconds later, and Dan’s gone. Phil sighs as he closes his eyes, hoping and praying for Dan to be okay and he would make it out alive, because Phil knew that Dan can do it. Dan just needs to have a little confidence and faith in himself. When Phil gets back to the mansion, of course his grandpa has quite a few things to say to him about being in contact with Dan this whole time. Phil knew his grandpa wouldn’t be happy about it. “I thought I told you, Philip. You were not supposed to be speaking to any of them,” Snow warns. “I’m sorry grandpa, I just… I couldn’t help it!” Phil exclaims, sighing. Of course Snow would have found out about him and Dan. Nothing ever stays a secret around here. “Couldn’t help it? You were acting as if he were your boyfriend,” Snow snaps. “He’s not my boyfriend,” Phil mumbles, looking away. “A boy like him would never date me…” “Excuse me?” Snow asks, the words Phil spoke shocking him. He’s never heard Phil speak like that, and he doesn’t like what he’s hearing either. Phil never talks to him about his personal love life. “U-Uh… nothing. C-Can we just watch the Games?” Phil asks, his cheeks turning bright red.

That was too close, and Phil can’t allow his grandpa to find out about his real sexuality. **** Dan’s stomach is churning, a feeling of nausea arising in his throat as he ascends in the tube. His eyes were hurting with the artificial light when he finally emerges, blinking around at the other tributes as the last ten seconds were counting down. Dan can’t believe this is actually happening right now, even though he’s been preparing for the Games for almost a week now. Louise catches his eye from across the field, and then she gives him a smile and a nearly miniscule nod. Just from that, Dan can tell that she’s was going to be meeting him wherever he went. He then quickly looks at the items in the middle of the arena, taking notice of a certain bag with a few throwing knives, which would be excellent if Dan can get his hands on those throwing knives. The entire arena is silent when the clock down struck zero. And then, all hell broke loose.   With as much stamina and agility as possible, Dan takes in a small breath and leapt, falling into the grass with a harsh sting in his legs. He wills himself to ignore the pain. A second in, and he’s already hurt. But, he’s ignoring the way his ankle twists under him as he sprints to the middle of the arena. There were tributes all around him, screaming, and his ears were ringing as the first canon strikes the air. The first death. Dan reaches out as he nears the bag, grabbing it with a shaking hand before stuffing the throwing knives into the bag as soon as he gets them. He’s almost pleasantly surprised at how utterly easy this seems. That is, until something hit his back with a large thump and threw him to the ground. He falls onto his stomach, the breath being knocked out of him instantly. Then, someone’s on top of him, pressing his face into the dirt to where he could literally taste the mud, gritty and covering his tongue with the disgusting substance. He thrashes his arms and legs, bucking in an attempt to throw the person off, but all he achieves is turning his body around so he can see who exactly is on top of him. He recognizes the girl from District 2, beautiful platinum hair in a messy bun and black eyes full of death. She’s much stronger than him, that much is obvious, from having years of training for this exact moment. She grins evilly as her arms wrap around his neck, Dan can feel her nails pressing into his skin now, choking him and he’s already preparing himself for his death. This is it, he decides, flailing his arms in an attempt to throw her off. To no avail. Five minutes into the games and I’m already dead, Dan thinks. Just as the thought fills to his head, a thud resonates through his ears, and the girl falls limp on top of him. A hand then pulls him up, forcing him to stand though his throat is sore and he couldn’t stop coughing from being shoved into the dirt and mud, and then the same hand was forcing him to run. He looks up through teary eyes to find the blonde head of Louise in front of him, practically dragging him to the forest. “You saved my life,” he gasps once they’re finally far enough away from everyone else, his free hand gently stroking at his already now sore neck. Half of his body is aching and he’s done nothing. “Of course I did, you numpty!” She snorts. Dan briefly wonders how she wasn’t worn out from running, but doesn’t question it as there were more important things to worry about. “We’re not friends for nothing.” “I really thought I was going to die,” Dan breathes, trying to catch his breath back. “Good thing you’ve got me to look after you, huh?” Louise grins. “I think we’re pretty far from the others…” “We should find a place to hide,” Dan says. “A tree or something.” “A tree? You think a tree is the best place to hide?” Louise asks, raising her eyebrows. “If we hide in a cave, then it’ll be too obvious. We have to be high up,” Dan explains. He’s already getting a headache and becoming stressed. Dan doesn’t want to leave Louise, but it’s obvious that there is absolutely no other choice. They’d both be dead if they stay together. “So, we’re sticking together then? Is that a good idea, Dan? Only one of us can win this whole thing... and I really don’t want to have to be the person to kill you,” Louise says quietly Dan takes a deep breath, nodding in agreement to Louise’s statement. “I suppose you’re right…” “We both have different ways of survival. I’ll be fine. Just, be careful?” Louise steps closer to him and she pulls him into a hug. “Here-” She holds up the bag she had in her hands and hands Dan a bottle of water. “Are you out of your mind?” Dan asks, his eyes going wide. “I have one for me as well, so no need to worry,” Louise smiles. “Don’t do anything stupid.” “Shut up,” Dan laughs, surprising himself. But, this is Louise. She can make him laugh in any situation. “Good luck, Louise.” He watches as Louise turns around and she starts heading off deeper into the forest, his heart breaking at the thought that this can be the very last time that he sees her. Louise is too pure and innocent to have to go through something like this. Someone like her shouldn’t be here. Dan looks around and sighs, feeling of devastation washes over him when he realizes that he no longer has the throwing knives that he collected earlier. Now, he only has the bottled water that Louise gave him, which he’s very grateful for. This should last him for a day. Maybe even two days if he’s careful. Dan walks around for nearly an hour until he finally finds a tall enough tree that he can use for hiding, and climbs to the top, hoping that nobody saw him climbing the tree. Hopefully, he’ll be safe here for awhile. **** Relief. That’s how Phil feels once he sees that Dan’s finally found someplace safe to be in the arena. Phil’s been watching him all day on the television, only taking breaks when he absolutely needs to. “It’s late, Philip, you need to go to bed,” President Snow sighs as he stood in the doorway of the lounge, where Phil has been watching the Games all day, watching Dan’s every move. “But, I don’t want to miss anything,” Phil whines, though you could tell by his voice that he was tired. “With the way things are going now, I highly doubt you’ll miss anything,” President Snow says. Phil bites his lip as he looked over at the television again, debating quietly to himself. “Okay, how about this… as soon as anything interesting happens, I’ll wake you?” President Snow suggests as he crosses his arms against his chest. “It’s late. Go to bed. You need sleep.” “Fine,” Phil groans before he finally turns the tv off. “Promise you’ll wake me up if something happens?” He takes a deep breath. “I just need to know if he’s okay.” “I told you I would, didn’t I?” President Snow raises his eyebrows. Phil pouts, and then he stands up and walks out of the lounge to go to his bedroom. The only thing on his mind is Dan, and hoping that the boy is okay. That he’s safe. When Phil wakes up in the morning, he quickly finds the nearest tv he can find, and turns on the Games, and he’s happy when he sees that Dan is still alive. They have already announced deaths that happened on the first night, and Phil’s heartbroken when he sees that Louise didn’t make it. Phil doesn’t even want to imagine how Dan felt when he saw her picture up in the sky. Though, it’s bittersweet because Louise was a lovely girl, but Dan is still alive. “Why do I have a feeling Howell will be the one to win?” Phil jumps at the sudden voice and sighs in relief when he looks over only to see that it’s just Vivian. “You think Dan will win?” Phil asks, sitting up a little on the couch, trying to hide his smile. “Perhaps,” Vivian nods before she hands Phil his plate of breakfast. “He’s a very smart boy.” “Oh, he is. I know it doesn’t seem like it at first looks but… I’ve seen him, he’s very smart,” Phil nods, and quietly thanks Vivian as he takes the breakfast plate from her, setting it beside him. “So, what’s gotten you so attracted to this boy?” Vivian asks as she crosses her arms against her chest, smirking slightly as soon as she noticed Phil’s cheeks turning bright pink from blushing. “What do you mean?” Phil asks, biting his lip nervously. “I saw how you were with him when you were saying goodbye to him. It’s obvious you care about him,” “Well… of course I care about him,” Phil says. There’s no point in denying that he cares about Dan, because it’s the truth. He does care about Dan. “But, that doesn’t mean anything?” “Okay, if you say so. But, you should watch yourself. I’m not sure how President Snow will feel about this,” “It’s not like he would do anything to me, right? I’m his grandson. We’re family,” Phil frowns. This talk with Vivian did not make him feel any better about telling Snow about his sexuality “You’d be surprised. Just, promise me that you’ll be careful?” Vivian asks softly. Phil nods and gives her a reassuring smile. “I’ll try my best,” he tells her. “Eat your breakfast. Don’t let it get cold,” Vivian warns before turning and walking away. Phil sighs and glances back at the tv, biting his lip as he keeps his eyes on Dan. *** As days pass by, Phil’s getting more anxious and scared for Dan the longer he’s in the Games. It’s been five days since the Games have started, and there were now only six people left in total. Dan’s doing pretty well for being on his own while other tributes teamed up with each other. Of course, Dan’s seriously injured and starvation isn’t helping either, and Phil desperately wishes he could help him. But, President Snow wouldn’t allow it as he has already helped Dan with fresh water once. “We can’t do anything?” Phil asks, crossing his arms as he stands in front of his grandpa’s desk. “No, Philip. Don’t make me tell you again,” President Snow snaps. Phil sighs sadly. “But, he’s the only one fighting on his own!” “That’s his choice. He chose to stay up in the trees the whole time while the other tributes made alliances with each other and now he’s the odd one out,” President Snow says. “It’s kept him alive, hasn’t it?” Phil asks. “And he’s only come down when he needs to.” “But the other tributes know that he’s hiding in the trees now,” President Snow points out. Phil bites his lip. “Well I have faith in him. He’s going to win. I just wish I could help him,” “I’ve got more important things to do. Go find Vivian and get yourself lunch,” Snow tells him. “Fine,” Phil huffs before turning around and going to find Vivian. Phil can hardly think about eating when the only thing that’s been on his mind for a week is Dan. Phil desperately wishes that he could do something to help, but in reality, he knew there was nothing, because even though he’s President Snow’s grandson, he still doesn’t have the power. Only just a few more tributes left. Phil has faith that Dan will be able to win the The Hunger Games, and make it back home safely. He’ll get to go back home to see his family. *** Dan can’t believe that he’s made it this far, considering he nearly died within’ the first five minutes. Two people left. Him, and the boy tribute from District 1. So far, Dan’s been hiding up in a very high tree and he’s doing a good job at keeping himself hidden, while also keeping his eyes peeled for the only other boy left. Dan desperately wants to go back down and try to find him, and kill him, but he was terrified of making a mistake and ending his life completely. But, Dan is starving, and he hasn’t been able to eat anything in over two days now. Dan needs to take a risk, and be brave. Dan needs to be the one to end this whole thing. All he can think about is going back home to his family, and making his mother and his brother proud, and he wants to be able to see Phil again and thank him for everything that he did for him in the Games. Because without Phil, Dan would most likely be dead. Phil went out of his way to help him. Dan takes a deep breath as he finally steps foot onto the ground for the first time in over two days. His legs are wobbly, but that’s to be expected when he’s been sitting in a tree with having no food at all. It’s almost completely silent in the arena, and the silent terrifies Dan more than anything. Anything can happen at any given moment from this point on, so Dan needs to keep his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. It’s completely exhausting, and honestly... Dan can’t wait to sleep again without having to worry about being attacked by another tribute. That is, if he actually won the Games, of course. Dan walks around for over an hour or two, trying to find food and fresh water. Dan stops dead in his tracks and he sighs. He looks around and then he squints his eyes when he sees a pile of leaves that seem to have an object hidden inside. He carefully walks over to the pile of leaves, being careful to not make any loud noises that will get him into trouble. Dan gasps as soon as he sees what the object is and quickly grabs it. A bow and arrow with a couple of arrows still left in it. Dan assumes it must have been left over from one of the other tributes. Now Dan actually has a chance of winning the Games. He can’t believe his luck. “Well, well…” Dan jumps up at the sudden voice and quickly points the arrow at the boy from District 1. “Williams,” Dan speaks, his voice cracking as he spoke, as it has been days since he actually spoke. “Howell,” the boy speaks with a smirk on his face. “Looks like it’s just you and me.” “Yeah,” Dan breathes. “Looks like it.” His eyes didn’t leave Williams, not once. One wrong move here, and he can find himself dead. He’s so close to winning the Games. So close to making his way back home. Williams chuckles and shakes his head. “Might as well end it here,” “Don’t you dare take any steps further,” Dan warns as he grabs a bow and points the arrow at Williams. “You know it’s not nice to steal things that don’t belong to you,” Williams says. Dan blinked a few times. “What are you talking about?” He asks. “That’s my bow and arrow you have there,” Williams tells him, nodding at the object. “Well maybe you should have kept it hidden better. It’s mine now,” Dan snaps. “Do you even know how to shoot a bow and arrow?” Williams asks, raising his eyebrows. “Should we find out?” Dan asks. His hands start to shake. Of course he’s shot a bow and arrow before, but he’s not what you would call an expert. He’s never practiced shooting one for real. Never in his life has Dan killed someone, and he knows that he’s going to hate himself afterwards. But, Dan needs to end this. He wishes there could be another way out of this, but there simply isn’t. “Go ahead Howell. Kill me. End it all now,” Williams says. “You’re not even going to try to fight?” Dan asks, his heart breaking a little at how Williams is giving up. “I’ve had plenty of time to think while being in here. In the Games. I think I’d rather be dead than continue living in this type of world. So yes, I’m asking you to kill me,” Williams whispers. “There can be another way. We can get through this together,” Dan tries. “There is no other way, Howell. Just fucking kill me!” Williams shouts loudly. Without thinking for another second, Dan pulls the bow back and finally shoots the arrow, his eyes widen as he watches the boy fall to the ground. Dan gasps with shock and he falls onto the ground himself, and he quickly backs up against a tree, pulling his legs against his chest and letting tears pour out of his eyes. “Congratulations Daniel Howell,” Dan snaps his head up as soon as the voice speaks. “You are the winner of the 77th Hunger Games,” Dan sobs loudly and buries his face in his arms as even more tears pour out of his eyes. Dan won. He actually won The Hunger Games. He’s going to be able to go home to his family. It’s bittersweet, because Dan only won the Games by killing an innocent boy who begged for death. And, Dan can only hope that in the end, it will all be worth it. 10 Years Later; Dan’s eyes slowly flutter open when he hears a door open, and he spots his husband, Phil Lester. Dan can’t help but smile at the thought of the man, even though he’s extremely tired. “Sorry love, did I wake you?” Dan pushes himself up in sitting position, and leans back against the headboard. “What time is it?” “Midnight,” Phil answers as he walks over to the bed. “Did you have another nightmare?” “Yeah,” Dan mumbles as he rubs his eyes tiredly. “Nothing I’m not used to though, don’t worry.” “I’m sorry sweetheart,” Phil says before crawling onto the bed next to him. “I wish there was something more that I could do to make you feel better.” He wraps his arms around Dan and holds onto him. “What were you doing?” Dan asks quietly as he rested his head on Phil’s chest. “It appears your son is having trouble sleeping as well,” Dan chuckles. “I guess Noah gets it from me, huh?” He looks up at Phil and smiles tiredly. “Christmas is next week,” Phil reminds Dan. “We don’t have a tree yet.” “That was such a random thought,” Dan can’t help but laugh. “No it wasn’t. Come on, you know Christmas is always on my mind,” Phil grins. Dan rolls his eyes and then he pushes himself off of Phil’s chest, and sits up. “What’s wrong?” Phil asks, frowning as he watches Dan carefully. “It’s been 10 years since the Games,” Dan said quietly. “The image is still…” He takes a deep breath, trying not to allow himself to cry. He’s already cried too much over the past. “I know,” Phil whispers as he reaches over and grabs Dan’s hand. “I know, and I’m so sorry.” “I wish we could have done something different. I never wanted to-” “I know,” Phil pulls Dan close to him again. “But things are different now. Things are better. For all of us.” “Do you think my dad would be proud of me?” Dan asks, looking up at Phil with watery eyes. “Absolutely,” Phil nods. “I know he’s up there, smiling down at you. You changed the world for the better, you’re the reason why The Hunger Games no longer exist.” Dan remembers the day clearly as if it were yesterday. Dan remembers how angry people had been after Dan had won The Hunger Games. War broke out, and they had actually won against The Capitol. They were able to change things for the better. No more Hunger Games, and Dan couldn’t be more grateful.

In the process, Phil had to lose his only family member that he had left. President Snow had to be killed. Looking back, Phil understands now that he wasn’t a great person despite the fact that he was family. “I’m just thankful our son doesn’t have to go through what we went through,” Dan says. “Me too, Dan,” Phil closes his eyes. “Me too.

[storytellingandtea-blog]

:D :D :D “no questions, no lies” + Itachi/Shisui

Soooo this turned into a full-on oneshot. I think this might be the longest thing I’ve written that isn’t abandoned and/or a WIP lmfao. It is 3 am and I just finished this, so it’s probably got mistakes and typos and such. I’ll probably edit this up and re-post this to Ao3 at some point, if I don’t hate it in the morning. I was really tempted to just leave if off on the angst and have it as a maybe hopeful, maybe bleak ending, but I thought I’d be a bit nice, since I know you like HEA lmao. That said, I do think the ending paragraphs with the hopefulness are the weakest/most rushed-feeling bit. I was initially intending to end it just at the last text divider thing. I hope you still like it, though

AU: Time travel, aged up Itachi (he’s probably in his mid teens around the massacre). Probably OOC.

Warnings: Very heavy angst, dark themes. Mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, self-worth/self-image issues, general Itachi angst.

Word Count:  ~4,400

Ao3 link: Edited version is up! Read on Ao3 for best experience b/c I keep losing my formatting when I try to paste the updated version in here xAx

Mandatory link to my new ItaShi playlist: here

Fic is below the cut

Shisui took a sudden pause from their frantic dash through the trees, a determined glint in his eyes as he took the opportunity to Shunshin to his cousin’s side, hand reaching forward.

“Itachi… what..?” Shisui gripped Itachi’s shoulder and forcibly stopped him, hauling them both down to the ground as gently as he was able, fixing Sharingan red eyes on the younger man. So much had happened in the past hour that it took him much too long to process things enough to even question what the ever-loving hell had happened, though it did speak for his level of trust in his cousin, as well. Even so, he still didn’t know where to start “What is going on? I… are you hurt? What— what did you do? Why are we running? My eye — how..? Danzō? The-the foundation?”

A face much too old, too tired, too… bereaved, yet reservedly fond in the same way it had been for years gazed back at him, unable to meet his eyes. A familiar stranger.

Strained lines on his face, a voice too deep, too haggard and husky for someone so young, replied, a taint of blood and death on his breath , “…I— I cannot, Shisui, do not ask this of me. Not-not until it is safe for you in Konoha. Do not force me to lie to you. Do not force me to make you forget.” His voice trembled. Trembled. Shisui didn’t want to think too hard into what could have broken Itachi this way. There was no other way Shisui could begin to describe it. At some point, the fragile points in his dear friend had shattered, when he wasn’t looking, and no one was there to pick up the pieces, to soothe the jagged edges. Shisui, busy, perhaps willingly blind, Sasuke too young, his parents too caught up in their troubles… They had failed him, and Shisui had to make it right, regardless of what Itachi seemed to believe of his own actions. There was little that Itachi could do that would turn him away. It kind of hurt to think that the young man didn’t seem to believe so. That he could think so poorly of himself, of their bond. Of him. Shisui refused to even consider that Itachi had, in fact, done something unforgivable. He simply wasn’t that type of person.

“Itachi…” Shisui sighed, and bit his lip when he saw the expression on Itachi’s face, deciding against pushing the issue, for now. He’d just have to do his best to help, without knowing anything beyond what he could read off the familiar stranger’s face.  “… all right, ‘tachi. Just… please. Are you… are you injured? Surely we’re far enough away for me to look you over?” Shisui pressed all the concern and hurt he could into his tone, refusing to feel guilty as he resisted the urge to rub his still-throbbing eye, the one that Itachi had re-implanted not half an hour ago.

He had lost time, waking up in a cave with Itachi by his side some time after falling into the water, impact shocking his body like a block of ice. (In another world, another time, Shisui had given a final, parting gift to Itachi before falling to his death. Itachi had refused to allow it, not again.)

His right eye had been aching when he bolted into consciousness, but was most definitely there behind the careful wrapping around his head. Itachi was hovering above him, but oddly unable to meet his uncovered eye. Things had been… odd with Itachi for the past week, he was even more reclusive than normal. He’d just surmounted it to the tough situation they’d found themselves in, and that it could wait for a more opportune time, that they could talk about it later. Evidently, that had been a mistake. Itachi had an expression he’d wished to never see on his face., body language defeated and weary.

Itachi passed him a water skin after he was certain his cousin was able to sit up on his own before he spoke. Or attempted to. A violent cough echoed through the space as Itachi turned away, taking a moment before he spoke again in a deep, raspy tone ,”We have to go, as soon as you’re able. You need to finish healing, but… it’s not safe here”.

Itachi looked away, seeming hesitant, before rasping “I will manage. They only scraped me. I need rest, but no more than you do. There’s a place we can hide out for a while not too far from here, abandoned by Orochimaru long ago. It still has protections that will serve us well once I get us past them…”

“…I don’t like this, Itachi. You should know you can confide in me by now, surely. I won’t press, but you should know, I’ll always be here for you, on your side. You know that, surely, especially with what’s been going on recently. I hate to see you hurting like this… I hate that you think you have to hide from me, that you’ve been hiding for weeks, if not longer. Let me help you”, Shisui responded in a rushed breath, pained. As always, the words Let me love you remained almost reluctantly unsaid, a painful lump in his throat.

If anything, Itachi looked even more broken and… guilty by that admission, his bloodshot eyes looking even less focused than they had been the entire all-too-hectic night. “No questions, no lies, Shisui”, was all that he managed to that, his eyes moist to accompany his broken tone.

Damn you. Damn you Itachi, and damn your martyr complex. You’re killing yourself, I know it. Damn your parents, for forcing your pacifistic ass into Anbu. Damn this world for being so unfair., for not allowing someone so inherently pure and wonderful, someone with so much to give to live without tarnishing his hands and soul. Without being forced into hating himself for what he’d had to do.

Shisui fought back the words from surfacing, fingers digging into Itachi’s shoulder unkindly, before he forced a nod. Something about Itachi’s almost-amused huff, the most he’d seemed like himself in much too long, told him that the younger man had picked up on at least some of the things that went unsaid. Shisui wouldn’t have been surprised if he had. For all his lack of social grace, at times, Itachi was still a genius, and they had had at least one or two conversations of a similar nature in the past.

“Lead the way”, he finally managed, giving up on meeting Itachi’s gaze in the silence. Whatever was going on, whatever had happened, he’d help Itachi. He wouldn’t allow the man he loved resign himself to… his hatred..? He was making a tactical retreat on the issue, though he would never give up. He’d just have to combine his years of reading Itachi, his experience with his ability to subtly needle Fugaku into spilling sensitive information. Shisui was determined. He would bring back Itachi from the precipice or no return he was wavering on, regardless of whether it was partially on purpose.

Shisui had been in this abandoned lab for… a week and a half, he supposed. For all that Itachi had claimed to need rest, he had disappeared that first morning, some time before he’d woken up. Needless to say, that really put a damper on his plans to figure out what the damn hell was going on, how Itachi was holding up with his illness… That period of time had been filled with high amounts of stress, anxiety and concern. Itachi had left him supplies, and a brief note to stay put as he ‘needed to take care of some urgent business’ and ‘there was no need to worry’ and ‘he’d be back as soon as he was able’. Even so, even having no clue where Itachi could have gone, that this was the most likely place for them to intersect again. Shisui was ready to tear his hair out, and just fucking bolt in search for his wayward cousin. In fact, he was making his way out of the hideout when he spotted the limping, battered Itachi.

He inhaled sharply, dropping everything before he Shunshined to Itachi’s side, carefully manoeuvring him onto the only bed in decent repair in the lab as he looked the younger man over. Itachi was… unwell would be the understatement of the century. Shisui felt numb as he tried to figure out the best course of action, his fingers already shining with the green of healing chakra. While hardly the most skilled, Shisui had very good chakra control, as was a necessity for his mastery of Shunshin, and he was able to substitute for a field medic in a pinch.

It had been concerningly touch-and-go for far too long as Shisui worked, Itachi fading in and out of consciousness. For his poor condition, Shisui found it very concerning that he could trace little back little of the damage to any external injuries, hoping that it was simply his lack of experience that prevented him from determining the cause of the internal damage, the blood building up in both lungs, despite no apparent evidence of a puncture.

Shisui had been wiping the bloody tear-like streaks caked on Itachi’s face when he finally awoke, after hours of too-hesitant chakra manipulated healing. “Oh, thank the Sage. Itachi, you’ve worried me sick. Haven’t I told you not to vanish on me..? I’ve had over a week to think all this over… nothing to do but think, really. And I still don’t understand what you think could be so horrible that you’ve been hiding it from me. I would never turn my back on you, I swear it. I lo— You mean the world to me, you’re family. I just want you to heal, you’ve been hurt, and I don’t know why or how, but I’ll make it better.”

Itachi seemed overwhelmed, and strangely pained at the barrage of words, as if they were poised to cut and maim, rather than reassure. Disoriented from just waking up, he hesitated for several beats too long, long enough that Shisui finally had hope for the first time in over a week that things would truly be okay. They weren’t, though. Itachi clammed up, the moment he realised they’d made eye contact, and he flinched away, like a kicked puppy,. He stiffly sat up, reaching into his tattered robes, as-if to retrieve something, “Before anything else, it is safe to return to Konoha, now. However, perhaps, more importantly, I… I am so, so sorry, Shisui. No questions, n—“

“Damn you, Itachi, damn you!” Shisui snarled, tears of irrational anger burning down his face as he made to box Itachi in the ear, only to stare in stunned, pained disbelief as the man he loved dispersed into a flock of crows, leaving behind only a scroll, and a whisper of I’m sorry. Not even a vague imprint of his chakra remained in the air. It felt like a goodbye, like an ‘I’ve done what I need to, and now I’m ready to die’. It felt like a ‘don’t look for me’, it felt like a betrayal of trust. It was a visceral, incomparable pain.

An inhuman noise tore its way from Shisui’s chest as he collapsed on the bedding that would forever be marked by Itachi’s sweat and blood, unable to do or feel anything beyond the hurt, pain, concern, worry, fear, anger, desperation.

It was probably hours later that Shisui finally hauled himself into a sitting position, though it had felt like an immeasurable eternity. He was stiff and sore, face sticky and sore from crying, eyes burning from a Mangekyō he wasn’t able to de-activate. He tugged at his own hair, hoping the sharp stabbing pain would distract from the ache in his soul, and forced his attention onto the scroll, laying deceptively innocent, now on the floor.

Shisui hesitated for a few moments, biting his lower lip raw, before lifting the scroll, and rolling it open. A familiar seal greeted him, and a pang, somehow deeper and more painful than the pervasive ache, struck him. He brought a thumb up to his raw, sluggishly bleeding lip, and smudged it onto the base of the seal, speaking in a broken, stuffed up tone, wavering, “No questions, no lies”. The familiar feeling of Itachi’s chakra caressed him for a moment before vanishing, leaving him with a sheaf of papers, neatly bound, and another, smaller, yet more intricate seal that he didn’t recognise. Setting it aside, after a cursory glance, he turned his gaze to familiar, if rushed handwriting, feeling himself go strangely numb, the further he read, starting to shed tears he thought he no longer had.

Shisui. Shi-nii… Shi-chan…

I hope you find this legible, as my sight has been fading as quickly as my health, as of late.

Oh, Sage. I do not know where to start. Much as I hope my letter finds you well, that you will not despair over one as undeserving as I, I know better than to hope. And for that, I am sincerely sorry. I am so very sorry, for so many things. Alas, I am too much of a coward, too selfish, too tired, too torn, to have the strength to face you as I share the deepest trenches where my soul used to reside.

Until then, please, allow me one last bit of completely unfair, harmful selfishness. Much as someone as you is undeserving of my taint, I love you. I still love you, even though I shouldn’t, after all I’ve done. I no longer deserve to, and yet. And yet. I loved you ever since we were small children, though I suppose it was different, back then. You were ‘just’ family. ‘Just’ my big brother. You did so much for me, you not only put the effort forward to understand, but you actually did. It meant the world to me, back then, when I could not express myself to save my life. I still do, now, no matter how needlessly difficult it had made the past few weeks, hiding my darkness from you. Time passes for all of us, however, and, well, over the years, you grew to mean so very much more to me. I think I realised that night, on the roof, under the stars… I am still deeply mournful I was unable to tell you before I was no longer worthy of earning your love.

Before I delve into the brunt of this retelling, please know, none of the blame is with you. It is my choices, and the choices of people beyond our control that have led to this. None the less, I have done things that are unforgivable, and that I wish not to taint anybody else with. I know that you’d try to forgive me, spin my actions in a way they are redeemable, but I know better. I don’t wish for you to taint yourself, your morals, your soul, with forgiving such a creature as I. You were my heart once, and I do not wish to force you down such a dark path. I must be cruel once more here, my heart. Please care for Sasuke, like you once did for me. With my actions over the past month, he will be having a very tough time.

The brief of it, well. I am from the future. One where I did many unforgivable things. One where I massacred our entire clan, save Sasuke, after you fell down a cliff, eyeless, and drowned. One where I forced my brother into madness to gain enough strength to kill me. I will not try to excuse or explain myself, lest I manage to make you see myself and my actions in a brighter light than I deserve. I have sealed my most important memories of the years that should never again come to pass in that scroll. You can activate it the same way you did my storage seal.

It contains memories of our clan, of my time as a missing-nin with a rebel group, of the upcoming war. I have dealt with Madara, and inhibited Zetsu’s plans to the best of my abilities, so you have time. Once again, I am sorry to push this on your shoulders, dear heart, for I am cruel. You are the only I can trust to take action. Please, don’t make the same mistakes as I. Don’t go it alone.

Ever since I had returned, into my younger body, around a month ago (I am still uncertain as to how it happened. One moment, I was dying to Sasuke’s hands, the next, waking up in the compound), I put forward my best efforts in an attempt to even slightly redeem myself, to prevent the darkest happenings of the future in any way I can. Danzō is dead, as are my father and many of the elders. The details I have also enclosed in the scroll.

As I’m sure you’ve been picking up on, I have not been completely well for some time. At this age, I already had the early signs of my illness, though I was not aware of it, at the time. The deterioration seems to be occurring faster in this timeline, than originally. My organs are under strain, my eyes failing, both from illness and Mangekyō use. Even if I were not tainted beyond saving, beyond redemption, I would not want others to see me like this, make them suffer for me. Much as I acknowledge what I am doing to you is unforgivably cruel, I hope you can begin to understand my reasons. Please be well.

I have left to die, Shisui, do not search for me. I do not deserve your forgiveness, I do not deserve healing. Please. Move on from this, be happy. That is the best thing you could ever do for me, dear heart.

With all my sincerest apologies and remaining soul,

Itachi

It had been just a fortnight since Itachi had vanished, and plans were very well underway for the future, based on the memories Itachi had left. After all, a determined Shisui was a productive Shisui, almost scarily so. Many of the pitfalls of Itachi’s future were unlikely to come to pass with all their contingency plans, upon contingency plans. It doubtlessly helped that many of the key players were dead, or had changed allegiance.

Many, including Shisui, himself, were angry with Itachi, but not for the reason the man himself likely thought. Shisui was so very unexplainably hurt by Itachi’s choice to leave, much as he understood it, in a way. He hated the fact that the man had been so hurt, so consumed by the family madness by the time he returned, that he no longer put any stock in himself, causing to push everyone who cared about him away, feeling undeserving. Unthinking of the harm he was doing to those that found him dear. They would have much to talk through, much to heal, the both of them, but for all his hurt, he couldn’t blame Itachi. And he found it even more painful that the young man had thought his actions irredeemable and unforgivable, considering his forced hand, and less-than-sane mental state at the time of many of these choices. He just wanted to wrap up the man in a stifling hug, and never let him go. It ached. He refused to think about the possibility of Itachi already being gone, of it being too late. He hoped that Itachi felt the need to resolve more things before death caught up with him, that he hadn’t killed himself, or just laid down to die somewhere.

He’d managed to convince Tsunade to return, for all she claimed it was temporary. Hiruzen was hoping to convince her to take over the hat, but that was hardly Shisui’s main concern — she had agreed she’d tend to Itachi, if— when they found him. While she couldn’t promise anything, due to the unreliable nature of the details Shisui had told her, she was convinced she could reverse most, if not all of the damage, if it hadn’t tipped over to the point of no return.

Shisui had gathered the best tracking teams in Konoha, and they were finally ready to depart. Each person had a Hiraishin seal, and access to a messenger summon so that Shisui and Tsunade could appear on location as soon as Itachi was found, and get him stabilised, and to Konoha as soon as possible.

Hiruzen felt a great deal of guilt over the Uchiha, and Itachi’s fathe, specifically, both in the man’a original timeline, and this time around, which allowed Shisui to press a lot more than he would have been able to otherwise, considering the differences in their station. This allowed him access to the forbidden scroll of the village, allowing him to learn the technique for near-instantaneous travel created by the Nidaime Hokage.

And here they were, setting out, two weeks after he’d last seen Itachi, the moment the situation was stabilised, and he felt confident enough in his new Jutsu. Much as he had been antsy to leave in pursuit immediately, he knew it would have done little good without any ability to help Itachi, considering he had little clue of his condition. Shunshin was amazingly useful, but it could cover only so much distance, and was very rough on passengers. Not to mention that his healing would only go so far.

Shisui was determined, hopeful as he watched the teams quickly advancing through the forest. There was no way the greatest trackers in Konoha, supported by Jiraiya’s lauded spy network would be unable to find Itachi. If he was still out there, he’d be brought back, no doubt about it.

If. Oh Sage. No, no, no, he had to still be alive, right? Such a bright flame couldn’t go out without any noticeable change to the world, surely. He had to still be alive.

…right..?

Shisui startled as a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Tsunade didn’t offer any empty platitudes, but her steady presence helped settle his spirit. He wouldn’t allow himself to wallow in despair at what if. He had to have hope, especially when Itachi didn’t.

The next time Shisui saw Itachi, he was… in surprisingly good shape, considering his state the last time he’d seen the man, though much too pale, his face worn.

According to Kakashi, he seemed in the middle of tracking someone, who he’d later found out was Black Zetsu, before he found himself restrained by Konoha-nin. While initially panicked, and intent on escaping, Kakashi ended up talking him down, after he convinced his team to leave them to chat. While not as close as Shisui and Itachi, Kakashi had played an important role in Itachi’s life after he’d entered Anbu, as he’d been the young Uchiha’s commanding officer. Being similar in many ways, as well, had helped them bond. In the time that it took for Kakashi’s ninken to deliver the go-ahead to Shisui, Kakashi explained what had been happening ever since ‘his little vanishing act’, and started to explain why Itachi was wrong for believing he was unforgivable and irredeemable for his actions.

While Itachi was visibly reluctant to agree with Kakashi’s words, he was listening, and it was oddly plain to see that he was starting to take the words to heart. Kakashi had imagined it helped that he was notoriously allergic to feelings and speaking honestly, and that he’d shared some of his own deep wounds and failings. My actions aren’t unforgivable, according to you. Your situation isn’t much different than mine. What makes you so tainted? Learn to forgive yourself, kid.

Itachi leapt to his feet the moment he felt Shisui’s chakra signature, seemingly uncertain for a moment whether he wanted to bolt away from, or to Shisui. His innate impulse, built over many years took over, however, and he Shunshined straight into his cousin, following him in his fall to the ground. He clung tightly to the feeling of warmth, safety, home, for the first time in a long time not pausing to question if he deserved it. Silent tears trailed down Itachi’s face as his half-blind eyes met Shisui’s, willingly, for the first time, ever since he’d returned from the future, “I— I’m so very sorry, Shisui. I have caused you so much —“

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you utter dingbat”, Shisui near-sobbed into Itachi’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you thought, for a moment, you didn’t deserve me, that you deserved to die in a ditch somewhere. I fucking love you, too! Did my feelings not matter in this..? If you dared die, I’d have found a way to bring you back, just to kill you myself. You… you…. I’m so happy and relieved you’re okay… I just… you… we have a lot to talk about, but please. You deserve to live, and heal. Please, at least, try for me, even if you don’t think you deserve it for yourself yet”.

Itachi shifted over the sniffling Shisui so that the man was positioned in his lap, happy to note that Kakashi and Tsunade had chosen to give them some privacy. He paused, looking at Shisui’s face, and, once he was certain of his welcome, kissed the corner of the other man’s mouth, before pressing their foreheads together. “For you, anything. I have not been in my right mind for a long time now, as you probably know by now. But, after a long conversation with Kakashi, and some searching in myself, I know I should trust in you, if nothing else. If you believe I’m worth saving, I will try my hardest. I love you, and you are my heart, have been for a very long time. I will endeavour to never hurt you again in this way that I have. I pushed you away for one of the things I love most about you, and for that, I will do my best to earn your forgiveness.”

Tsunade, Kakashi, and the rest of the tracking group found the two half an hour later, exchanging soft words and gentle kisses, reluctant to be more than an inch apart at any given moment. They were already starting to heal, as they affirmed themselves, their relationship, in one another, though it would take time for the cracks in their souls to be filled with gold, making something different, yet just as beautiful as it once was. Together.

[tsainami]

wip prep tag #2

tagged by: @isherwrites​ tysm!! sorry it took this long to get to.

rules: answer the questions and then tag as many writers as there are questions answered (or as many as you can) to spread the positivity! even if these questions are not explicitly brought up in the novel, they are still good to keep in mind when writing.

last time i did this it was for cheat (which you can find here), this time i’ll do grave mercy.

FIRST LOOK

1. describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch).

a girl against a theocracy (but for its religion) and a boy against its religion (but for the theocracy) who have very ? confusing ? backgrounds ? (and are vampires) somehow end up meeting while investigating a cannibalistic angel. they end up doing something ridiculous together: unraveling ‘god.’

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)

as far as i can see where the plot’s going, probably a trilogy.

3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?

vampires. religious ones! in priestly/nun-ly (not a word) clothing! which comes in mostly white or bright colors because they’re not fans of black vestments. black armor yes, black clothes no. and since there’s vampires, there’s blood. but also gore. and also cults. and devils, angels, monsters, conspiracy! plus a lot of french gothic architecture.

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

book of the ancestor trilogy by mark lawrence. if you’ve read it, it’s probably obvious.

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel.

i haven’t done any edits for this a whole either rip. it’s not much right now, but here’s its pinterest board.

MAIN CHARACTER

6. Who is your protagonist?

my main protagonist is a girl called ines nenci. she’s a novice at a convent known (or, unknown) to reform young girls whose faith are tainted.

7. Who is their closest ally?

her closest friend is this younger novice named dafne who she constantly worries about and is very protective of. she views dafne as her closest ally, and throughout the story she retains that sentiment. objectively speaking though, it’s probably reuven. after they meet and her fight or flight response when it comes to him calms down lol.

8. Who is their enemy?

the theocracy. namely the ava santi who sits at its head. and also herself.

9. What do they want more than anything?

this is going to sound anticlimactic maybe, but emotional comfort and security. ines really just wants to stop having to be scared all the time. stop having to hold on to anger and allow herself to finally express her hurt and pain after all the years she’s spent oppressing it. she wants to depend on someone and be able to trust them instead of just being the one depended on while in truth she’s just being manipulated. she honestly just. wants. inner peace (lol).

10. Why can’t they have it?

there are many reasons. let’s start with a few minor obstacles in the shape of people who keep her alive solely for the purpose of using her to further their ambitions: 1. the abbess of the convent. this chick keeps ines in her house only to serve as a tool in her plot of overthrowing the theocracy. the convent’s pretty much a facade for this group of heretics to eventually hold some sort of rebellion. but they’re being really dirty about it. 2. the ava santi (aka ye olde pope). he killed her dad. he was also supposed to kill her, but this amazing idea popped up in his brain and he decided “nay, send her to the convent dear men o’mine.” reasons for this is because a) he hates that fucking place and has wanted it dead for years and b) he can’t touch that fucking place because politics and also One Deep and Dark Secret that would cost his position and probs life should it be exposed. 3. the so-called cannibalistic angel she meets, whose reasons for using her are too spoilery to share at the moment. but it’s got something to do with the one ‘god’ of their faith.

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

that she’s cursed. it’s repeated a lot in the first chapter, actually. her dad’s death and some of his last words really drilled it in her. and it makes sense, because her existence is scorned by the faith and she learns more and more about this (with the misfortune of having to witness her papa burn ffs as lesson 1 of all things) as she grows up.

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

she’s got thick, wavy black hair. pretty long (goes up to mid-back i think) and it’s always braided and then tied up into a low bun. she’s always wearing her habit (which is white) and even if she isn’t she tries to wear something close (usually white too) because it makes her feel secure. she has a black cloak she wears when she goes walking around the capital or the woods (that she really and i mean really knows how to work, especially when she’s killing something so not too much of nasty stuff stains her clothes). usually armed to the teeth. hidden blades everywhere. though you can’t really see that i guess. 

sometimes, she carries a sword.

PLOT POINTS

13. What is the internal conflict?

ines is moroi, which is a race that is treated little better than rabid dogs are in montevena. there aren’t many moroi in existence any more because of wars that involved genocide long ago + the fact that as moroi all you have to do to get sentenced to death sometimes is to accidentally bump into someone. anyway, her internal conflict mostly revolves around her struggle between hating what she is and yet having to depend so heavily on it. she wants to separate herself from being moroi, but that’s impossible since she has to face it everyday. even if people weren’t there to remind her, her body can’t lie. she really, really hates it but there’s no other choice but to live with it.

14. What is the external conflict?

everyone is against the theocracy for their own reasons and the theocracy is against everyone. the teams switch up sometimes though and things get wild when a cannibalistic angel appears and the OG residents of the world, the devil-gods, get weaved into the mayhem (did i mention this takes place in an au hell? because it does).

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?  

if ines is put through what she went through as a child, having her world break like that (it wasn’t only her dad’s death, it was all the things about the world she was totally clueless about because up until then her dad had limited her knowledge of it, so her whole life was a big fat lie), it would be B A D. the people currently capable of hurting her that way is an older nun from the abbey named sister aura and dafne.

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

huge spoilers so i’ll be vague. something monumentally of relevance to not just ines or reuven, but the whole world is a total sham. also if you can believe it or not, aliens are involved (but it totally isn’t what it sounds like lmao).

17. Do you know how it ends?

a little, but not too well right now.

BITS AND BOBS

18. What is the theme?  

there’s an absolute truth to everything. but a lot of the times it gets corrupted by people with ill-bred intentions. that doesn’t mean the truth itself is horrible, though. so it’s always good to discriminate and keep in mind that, just like that guy who yells about global warming but clearly doesn’t know what he’s talking about while he goes ‘round the world in private jets that secrete shit tons of shit, sometimes we don’t know everything either.

19. What is a recurring symbol?  

i have no idea. (yet)

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)

a city-state called montevena which is loosely based off of vatican city but much more french gothic and kinda creepy. later the story moves through parts of canza, one of the three sanctified states that reuven is from.

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

yes. predominantly one that occurs in a cave.

22. What excited you about this story?  

the development of the characters. particularly ines, reuven, gabriele, dafne, hazael, mirta and other supporting characters (including the abbess and the ava). it’s just... so interesting. i low-key had a mindfuck about it.

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!  

a copy paste from my previous post on this:

my method is freak out! write a sentence. think about useless things (why would a pigeon be at the city square at night? that doesn't make sense? is it a normal pigeon? what is the purpose of its life?). try not to get distracted (i always do though) and write another sentence. 

the day i’m 92 is the day i finally have two fully written novels with my name plastered all over them in my arms.

TAGGING: @brekkerings @pilipalea @apollchiles (if you guys haven’t done this yet) and anyone else who wants to.

[somedaywellfindit]

literally every question on otp ask meme for Jared and Iris,,, ur welcome

u fuccin,,,,, like Good Choice but p ls @cortezthegamer

Who is the most affectionate?Iris, probably. She has a lot of love to give and, due to struggles to find a partner after her ex, a bit touch starved. When she’s with Jared, she’ll try to have physical contact if possible (when/if he’s comfortable with it ofc). She likes to just sit and hold him tbh.

Big spoon/Little spoon?Jared is the big spoon, Iris is the little spoon. They’ve tried switching it up from time to time but it was just really weird for them. They get used to it over time but it’s still always gonna be Jared = Big spoon, Iris = Little spoon :’)

Most common argument?Iris isolating herself is definitely something they fight about. Jared thinks it’s getting to an unhealthy point since she rarely accepts help, even from her own brother. He wants to help her and he can’t and it’s really frustrating. He understands why she struggles, it’s just difficult for both of them.

Favourite non-sexual activity?Going to the arcade to play DDR!! They love competing against each other in that and people most likely end up watching them. They also go out for milkshakes. They’d go to the theatre too, but probably not That Often bc its expensive lmao. They also cook together, Iris teaching him recipes sometimes.

Who is most likely to carry the other?Idk why but I see Iris carrying Jared ghakj. Jared could lift her but she’s kinda self conscious of her weight so she wouldn’t let him most of the time. He does, however, get flustered when this woman who’s almost half a foot shorter than him carries him bc Wow strong women are Wonderful lmao.

What is their favourite feature of their partner’s?Iris loves Jared’s hair. She loves to run her hand through it. She also really likes his eyes but his hair is her fave.Idk for Jared. Maybe her legs??? idk hbjkhskj

What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?Iris gets super flustered around Jared when she realises she has feelings for him. I mean “wow you complimented me?? time to Fucking Die. you stretch before we run??? i can’t stop lookin at u now lmao” kind of flustered.Jared gets a bit more flirty when he realises he has feelings for Iris. He thinks she’s cute when she’s flustered. She gets super blushy and will probably try to hide her face and he finds it adorable.

Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?The normal ‘babe’, ‘sweetie’, stuff like that. The first time Jared called Iris babe, she was cooking and almost burned her hand. ‘Sweetie’ actually started off as ‘hun’, which was Iris’ go-to nickname for Jared. She changed it because she tends to call her friends ‘hun’ so it got really confusing when Jason, her brother, and Jared were in the same room.

Who worries the most?Iris tends to isolate herself when she’s having a Bad Day (this usually happens when it’s close to when her mother passed away). Jared will worry about her a lot, especially since he doesn’t really know why she does this until Cat or Bree explain it to him. Even then, he still worries and will try to help her.

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?Jared. He remembers Iris’ most common order from the nearby Italian restaurant. He won’t order for her but when she does order, Jared gives her a smug look that screams “I knew it”. She just gives him a small kick under the table and tells him to shut up.

Who tops?Jared. They’ll probably switch like,,,, one or two times? But it’s mainly Jared who tops lmao.

Who initiates kisses?Also Jared. Iris gets embarrassed when she initiates kisses, especially at the start of their relationship. She’d probably get better with it but Jared still initiates them.

Who reaches for the other’s hand first?Iris is very, very touch starved. If she can, she’ll try to hold Jared’s hand, so she’s the one who would reach first. Even on bad days when she isolates herself. She’ll grab his hand when she feels comfortable with touching.

Who kisses the hardest?Jared lmao. He’s passionate and that definitely shows through his kisses.

Who wakes up first?Iris does. She’s used to waking up early due to having to help around the house when her mother was ill, having to get herself and her brother ready for school and to make breakfast for herself, Jason and their mother.

Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?Jared. ‘Ris will try and get him up and he’ll just get Iris to lie down and fall back asleep.

Who says I love you first?Iris. She can’t initiate a kiss but dammit she will blurt out “I love you”. She went bright red, covered her face and just kept saying sorry. Jared just moved her hands away and smiled, then hugged her.

Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)Iris is probably the one who makes lunch for Jared. She’ll leave little post-it notes saying “Have a good day. ♡ “ or just a simple “I love you.” If Jared makes Iris’ lunch, it’ll be stuff saying “Don’t pressure yourself.” or “Have fun!”.Edit: I was told Jared's notes would just say “Bagoom” which is totally true and completely valid tbh.

Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?It’s kinda hard for them to keep their relationship hidden from their friends and, in Iris’ case, family since they share a house with their friends. So Iris tells Jason first and then they both tell their friends about the relationship. Jared tells his family a while later.

What do their family/friends think of their relationship?Almost everyone would be fine with it tbh. If Jared and Iris are happy, then so are they.

Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?Iris will start dancing with Jared when they’re on their own. If they’re out and there’s dancing involved, Jared will start dancing with Iris.

Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?Iris’ parents taught both her and her brother how to cook from a young age, so they’ve gotten really good at it. Jared can cook but Iris does it really well and far more often. He will help though.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?Jared omg. He’d probably use fuckin,, video game ones or something idk. It does, however, get Iris very flustered. 

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?Jared hjjias. He is a flirty bastard and Will use this on his girlfriend. She gets flustered but tbh, she enjoys it.

Who needs more assurance?Iris. She doesn’t like her weight that much (saying she should work out with Jared more) and she needs someone to comfort her when she’s having a bad day (which is more often than she’d like to admit)..

What would be their theme song?Classic by MKTO is their real one.Dabarobics by ElliotExplicit is their joke one.

Who would sing to their child back to sleep?Iris, most likely. She’s got a cousin who’s a musician, of course he’d give her singing lessons. She’ll sing in Japanese most of the time so the child can grow up learning part of their heritage.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?Iris will play games like Overwatch with Bree and Cat or spend time with Saoirse. Jared will watch movies and steal fucKCING LOCKERS WITH DANIEL AND JASON BECAUSE WHY THE H E L L NOT.

one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heartIdk lmao I want these kids to be happy yo

one headcanon about this OTP that mends itThem starting a family together. They’d just be great parents and they’d adore their kids and pets.

[aximili]

For your OCs (you can choose whoever you want): 2, 3, 7, 11, 16, 17, 28, 30, 31, 34, 35, 39, 40. For you: A, B, D, E, G, H

omg thats a LOT so ill just do one person!! uhhhhhh how bout that Piers

How easy is it for your character to laugh?

he laughs a lot but he’s not often actually amused... it’s more to give the impression that he’s at ease. he’s never at ease, & doesn’t find much funny. 

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

definitely reading, he’s one of those people who will fight god over his inability to read everything ever written before his time on earth is done. 

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

the smell of mud & grass, fresh vegetables, quiet country roads, summer wind in your face... they make him think of where he grew up in the cotswolds. & no, he doesn’t enjoy it. he’s not comfortable with having the origin story of a country bumpkin, he finds it very gauche; it’s not the persona he’s trying to create.

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

depends on the context. alone, eg in academic writing? seek clarification. he hates not knowing things. in social situations? pretend he understands until he does. he never wants to have to ask. 

What makes their stomach turn?

sentimentality, & emotional displays. like, people who can’t be cynical and aloof about everything? cringe. 

Are they easily embarrassed?

not really, as in like, he’s good at never having a situation seem embarrassing for him? he’s a v natural leader and always acts as if he’s the one setting the norm, and other people do kinda fold to that. so if he like, tripped over, it would immediately become awkward for anyone who laughed, because he could be hurt, like what the hell. but if it was the other way around, he’d laugh at them, in the spirit of friendship. total double standards.

Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

wow, talk about things his entire character is about haha... absolutely a lie. piers doesn’t settle for unpleasant truths, he’ll do whatever he can to make it so that the truth is what’s easiest for him.

Who do they most regret meeting?

B L A S lmao. tfw u become obsessed w someone, accidentally cause their death, then realise afterwards that you may in fact have fucked up pretty bad

Who are they the most glad to have met?

at the start of the book, at least? sol! he feels like he can use her to wipe away his guilt for blas, both literally (as in, misdirect her enough that he doesn’t seem at all suspicious) and emotionally (as in, make a new start and be a positive influence on her in place of her brother. unfortunately, he still has a twisted perspective on how to be a positive influence on someone). 

How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 

fake it til you make it baby...... lmao he tries but it’s always there, probably because he’ll never confront it bc that would mean facing up to what he’s done and who he’s become as a person. 

How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

almost always! on the surface, at least. he needs to seem like a supportive pillar. the things he secretly thinks are lame, though? he’ll chip away at those. like, he’s always making offhand mean-spirited & dismissive comments about ari’s fields of expertise, mainly because he doesn’t like that they’re much more intelligent than him, and he doesn’t want them to know they have that power. fortunately, ari has an ego of steel & cannot be manipulated! 

How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?

all he SEES is flaws in other people tbh.... if he learnt to just whole-heartedly value the good stuff about others, like most people manage to, maybe he’d be a nice boy 

How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

tbh, piers is emotionally intelligent enough to know he has them. he knows, very deep down, that he’s a fucked up person who doesn’t treat others well. he just feels in too deep at this point, though? he’s been faking who he is for so long, he has no idea who the authentic him is, what would be left if you stripped away all the cynicism and left real feelings. .....god that sounds edgelordy when i put it like that. 

A) Why are you excited about this character?

what i mainly want him to do in the story is be a moral lesson about never trusting guys who treat you like he treats sol, and i feel like... so many YA books out there are unhealthy het romance focused and i really want this to be a rug-pull on that. i just really hope it’s effective. 

B) What inspired you to create them?

omg.... geez, let me think back.... originally, he was a dangan ronpa fan character (well, he remained one for a while lol), and female, and nice. she was a very chilled-out, new agey type, a source of wisdom and calm. he became male when i realised the cast wasn’t quite gender-balanced, and stayed that way since (he really couldn’t not be male, how he is now...). i thought it’d be a great twist for the end of the fangan ronpa for him to suddenly snap and reveal the stress of being the calm one had finally gotten to him. a few more iterations happened, for a while he was very much the secretly eeeevil one, and like... i guess he kinda still is, but i wasn’t happy w that, like, real people aren’t like that, and it would seem a cheap twist. so now he’s more like... the type of person who lowkey bullies his friends and enjoys the benefits of it, combined with the ego of being told he’s very intelligent, plus the typical white male brand of world-weary cynicism that can only result from never having had any real problems. 

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

he’s always had long blonde hair, and that’s definitely a character staple i couldn’t get rid of! however, he used to dress super feminine - essentially because, of course, he was originally a girl and i saw no reason to change the design. it was only later on that i realised like... i���m not at all comfy with my villain being a man who dresses like a woman. that doesn’t sit remotely ok, regardless of its innocent origins. now he dresses much more like a nerdy posh fuckboy, and it suits him better.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

omg its easy to say NOOO but honestly? i can’t pretend he isn’t based a little bit on an amalgamation of cis guys i’ve known who have these emotionally manipulative tendencies hidden underneath a charming nerd persona, so i guess i could certainly see us becoming initial friends. hopefully, tho, i’d see sense and dump him eventually. and nah, he would definitely think i’m pathetic lol 

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

fdjkjkdksdhkfjhsdj uh..... the murderin bit. well, i guess the most disturbing part of his personality, to me objectively, is, yeah, seeing troubled people as potential experiments. being someone’s token mentally ill friend in various ways is bad enough, i can’t imagine how fucked up i’d feel if i found out someone was trying to manipulate me to get worse in the brain. 

H) What trait do you admire most?

i wish i could read as much & be as devoted to my studies..... lol