#one would think that; considering one information given on one of the prologue pages; some people would like to debate about the new previe

[thatonecrookedsmile]

I know that at this point the release of the third novel is practically around the corner (and I know I'm also very late to talk about this) so there's really no need to post about it. But I haven't seen anyone commenting on this on Tumblr before, which is kind of surprising, I'm not going to lie. (And I checked the tags and I used the search bar, I didn't find a soul who posted this before. Either that, or they posted it and I didn't see it (words/tag filters working maybe))

Anyway.

SO,for those who are excited for the new book and didn't already know this (either because you don't use Twitter, haven't seen this here on Tumblr before or are behind on the news) a new extended preview for Bendy: Fade to Black was released a while ago!

The first preview had already been shared here back in June, and it only had the first chapter of the book + the first page of the second chapter. This extended preview has the prologue of the book, chapter 1 and more extra pages for chapter 2 (I don't think it's the entire chapter,tho)

(Also, the book has 33 chapters in total. Nice)

Again,I know it's too late to be able to talk about this at this point (I got busy in September and was prevented from talking about it before), especially since this book is coming out like. This week lol. There's not much point to talk about this now. But repeating myself, I didn't see anyone commenting about this here on Tumblr. I checked the tags and used the search bar, and nope, nobody. Which is surprising considering the other official (I think?) things people decided to share here. And hey, maybe there really is someone out there who doesn't know that this preview hasn't been released (because I'm sure at this point some of you reading this will have already seen this preview before I posted it here) so consider this post as a helping hand/a reminder perhaps.

And just so this isn't just *a* post sharing the preview, here's a reminder for everyone to remember to tag your spoilers if you're going to talk about the new book! And for those who won't be able to read this book anytime soon (Me), remember to mute/block tags and words so as not to be spoiled! I have to definitely do that after posting this.

But yeah, that's all, have a good night everybody! (or day, whatever time you are reading this)

[goodluckclove]

I'm writing a new thing!! I don't really need advice I'm just excited about starting it. They're gay and one of them's a shapeshifter the other has a culturally engrained fear of shapeshifters given that as defenders of the wilderness/ basically very local gods they tend to fuck up anyone who's in their space. I also dong know how to start books which is an issue my beginnings are always weak. How do I start a book. Do I describe the sheep? He's a shepherd btw which I think is fun because the shapeshifter often takes the form of a wolf or coyote. It's also set in a relatively high fantasy setting (no elves and shit just weird magic and a different landscape) that vaguely corresponds to the late 17 or 1800s (they've got some guns i think, they ride horses and trains might exist). How do I start a book. What do I start with. Where do I start. There's no real solid beginning I've got in mind, just a dude trying to take his sheep over a large area on his own. Help please I do actually need advice

Well you see, Ghostie, everyone knows that the first sentence of a novel is the most important part of the entire story. It has to contain the main character's name - in fact, it has to contain the names of every character in your cast - and it has to provoke intrigue and resolve it in a satisfying way without being a too long and jesus christ i can no longer keep up this bit.

I'm annoyed by people who say you need to have a super profound first line. I mean, they're good when they happen. If you can think of one that's great. But if you can't you aren't fucked right off the gate. If your first line isn't something people will get calligraphed onto canvases to hang on the walls of their boring houses (Is this a thing? Did I just make up a type of person to hate?), it doesn't mean your beginning won't be good.

You want to hook the reader. That's what all the guides say, right? They describe a person picking your book off the proverbial shelf and leafing through the first page to see if it's something they'd be interested in. That's solid, but then some go on to make it seem like you have maybe ten words before they either buy the book or toss it across the room in disgust. I'm not saying this is never true. I'm just saying that, personally, that type of person is probably not someone who'd be interested in me or my stories to begin with.

Usually when I'm considering a new book I'll skim the first few pages and then a bit throughout the middle, just to see if I like the prose. I do not put that much weight in the beginning, but it's always a good sign when the general scene feels purposeful. It doesn't have to be a car chase/diamond heist/sex scene/murder. I read someone somewhere saying that you have to start with something exciting and it took like an hour off my life I was so angry.

Here's one out of a billion angles to tackle this puzzle from - where does the story start for you? What is the inciting incident to the inciting incident? This feels like something easy to answer, but oftentimes what you come up with might feel a little inconsequential.

A beginning scene - like, for instance, a prologue centered around only sheep and coyotes - does not necessarily sound interesting on its own. But in a world where shapeshifters usually take on those forms it both sets up the world and establishes a mood. You can play with how much information you give people in the world.

Using my book as an example because I've been watching my editor @hoard-sweet-hoard react to it in real time, at one point he commented that he didn't know if the Eddie in my initial prologue is the same guy as the Edgar in Chapter One. And I was like yeah man that's the whole goddamned point of the book you tiny little king of fools. I wasn't at all that mean. I made a really good sandwich for dinner so I'm feeling extra rowdy. But the point is that I focused less on the action and more on the feeling it would create in the reader.

With that mindset the action doesn't really matter. If it's mundane it can be comforting, or tiring, or numbing, or eerie, or unnerving. If it's far removed from the world we know it can be fantastical and whimsical and sexy, maybe? I don't know. God that sandwich was good. I'm getting really into bagels lately.

Also, from purely the perspective of a writer, you might think of a better beginning midway into the draft. So you can also go back and make a weak start much stronger. You can skip the beginning entirely if it's really fucking with your life. Come back to it later. Who will stop you? Me? I don't even know how to find you. And if I did, you could easily kill me. You have that vibe and I am very clumsy.

Also also start posting excerpts when you get going because that shit sounds rad as fuck.

My bagel had egg and bacon and a hash brown patty and caramelized onion. Man has done a lot of sin, but it is almost neutralized by the insight we once had to caramelize onions. They have a unique flavor that I can only describe as eating the house of a beloved grandmother? Or maybe just the way that house makes you feel?

Yum.

[theneighborhoodwatch]

Hi! I am real new to Welcome Home and was piecing together all the stuff on the site until I realized, someone already did it!!! So thank you for this excellent collection of information! However, there was one thing I noticed that I did not see mentioned anywhere, and I am not entirely sure it is relevant but I wanted to get peoples thoughts.

The "About Us" page mentions that Ronald Dorelaine is likely the creator of the show (or Playfellow, or both?). Dorelaine is an interesting surname and I couldn't find any information about it ever having been used as a surname. I messed around with anagrams and found "R. Dorelaine" is an anagram for "Ed Lorraine", which are the first names of the famous American demonologists Ed and Lorraine Warren - specifically, their collective career is responsible for a LOT of American horror, especiallg that which seems to share some themes with Welcome Home. Most notably IMO is Poltergeist, Amityville Horror, and Annabelle.

The Warrens were Roman Catholic and often participated in cases where they were tasked with assisting in investigating and/or exorcising some kind of demon or malevolent spirit from a house that, in its own metaphysical way, has "come alive". Considering the use of some demonology references (Baphomet/Tarot/"as above so below") as well as christian imagery (the cufflinks), and the obscure nature of Home's intelligence, I wondered if this was unintentional or maybe something more!! :)

It could be totally grasping at straws, but I thought it was a cool coincidence nonetheless and was curious what people (who've been familiar with the source material longer than I, lol) might think!

OHHH - this is more in the realm of speculation, i think, but that is a REALLY interesting find... my personal theory for the time being is that "dorelaine" was chosen as a surname for ol' ronnie bc of its similarity to "darling," (or in-universe, the other way around) i don't think i can really confirm whether or not either of these are intentional yet, though - both because so much of welcome home is still either under wraps or in development, and because as much as i fantasize about being a proofreader some day, i'm not the one writing welcome home. i also wanna reiterate that the cross cufflinks were scrapped, like, Right before the website first went live, and any cross imagery seems to have been relegated to home himself - although that's still significant in this context, given the third paragraph.

also! to answer your question of "so is dorelaine or the playfellow workshop the creator of the show?" - older versions of the "what's welcome home" page listed both as the show's creator interchangeably, but after the january 14th update, it only lists the playfellow workshop as the producer/creator, meanwhile ronald dorelaine's name is relegated to the "about us" page, and with more ambiguous phrasing to boot (i.e. "he must be the creator [of welcome home and/or the playfellow workshop" rather than "he is the creator.")

tl;dr: is it intentional? i have no idea. is it a really neat observation regardless though? absolutely yes.

this whole thing, though, does get me thinking about the concept of haunted objects/locations in the context of welcome home. ever since the january 14th update, the website itself seems to be acting as a prologue to the rest of the story, and so far has been playing out as a much more typical horror story than one would expect - there's a plucky everyman research team, mysterious lost media with an even more mysterious creator, and a strange puppet (or at least, the most prominent of the bunch) seemingly haunting their website for reasons yet unknown. i believe this is intentional, though - from the way clown himself describes the project on his website, welcome home seems much more interested in the puppets' perspective than anyone else's. the question is no longer "wouldn't it be fucked up if puppets killed you?" but "wouldn't it be fucked up to be a puppet?" in that sense, i think it's strangely appropriate that our introduction to this project - to these characters - is filtered through others' perceptions of them. even wally, who you'd think would be the obvious exception, seems hesitant to reveal too much right off the bat (or equally likely, he's being as straightforward as he can be, and there's something very very important he isn't taking into account.)

i don't think welcome home is a Literal ghost/posession story, if it is such a story at all - i feel that would be too easy, almost, to have everything be explained by "a ghost/demon did it" - but i have to wonder, if we frame the events of welcome home (or what we've glimpsed of them so far) as a haunting Of Some Sort: are the neighbors doing the haunting, desperate for communication but unable to leave the town that was built for them even after it stopped being of any use to its creators? or are they themselves being haunted, their existence both sustained and horribly limited by human interference, shaped by ideals they barely even comprehend? is it both? "as above, so below" - commonly understood to be talking about celestial mechanics's effects on terrestrial happenings (the seasons, the tide, etc.) i have seen it also summarized as "what happens in a higher realm or plane of existence also happens in a lower realm and vice versa," and that is interesting, isn't it? i cannot speak to the presence of demonology in welcome home proper, as the baphomet imagery seems exclusive to some relatively Ancient concept art for a version of welcome home that has long since been scrapped, but the fact that "as above so below" seems to have survived in some form is very. smiles wide showing my teeth and gums.

[newtie-patootie-bootie]

Masquerade (Prologue)

Summary: This is your third season and your aspirations on finding love are dwindling but news on Lady Whistledown’s society pages say that there is to be a foreign royal in attendance to the season. Could this royal dignitary be the one you’ve been waiting for, or could there be a mysterious stranger lurking in the shadows, waiting to pluck your heart for his?

Disclaimer: I do not own Bridgerton nor The Mandalorian- all rights go to the owners and creators of their separate stories.

Warnings: None just yet, enjoy my writing as I lead up to the story!!

|| Please do not repost or plagiarise my work ||

| Chapter 1 |

“Dearest, have you read the newest Lady Whistledown?” Your mother burst into the drawing room with a flurry of her skirts, clutching the article in her fist as you, your brother and your father took in her frazzled form. 

Her eyes were alight with excitement and she was nearly vibrating with delight, “no, Mama. I haven’t.” You answered her, eyebrows pulling together gently and she barrelled forward, slapping the scandal sheet in your hand. 

You abandoned your needlepoint on your lap and opened the reports gingerly, perusing the freshly printed words with increasing distress:

‘In related news to this year’s promising season, my dearest reader- my sources say that a discreet candidate was called on by the Queen herself!

In a show of good faith and generosity to the newly signed trade agreements between the Crown and the elusive, yet breathtaking realm of Mandalore; it seems that this mysterious suitor has touched foot on our verdant lands in search of one of this season’s blossomed flowers to pluck for his own. 

I have heard that this particular aspirant is eager to secure an acceptable match, perhaps with the season’s named Incomparable? 

Or, perhaps there will be a sweet winter blossom that bloomed so richly as she was presented to Her Majesty, the Queen for her third season. Could the magnificent daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Wintere snatch such a lucrative title from Miss Daphne Bridgerton?

I so do adore a good rivalry between two influential families and as such, I would like to express my most exuberant notions of good fortunes to each family and may the best woman win.

This intrepid author would also like to disclose that there should be a number of severe competitors at the Danbury Ball this evening- and even worse, bloodthirsty mama’s charging forward with energetic hopes to secure the prospects of such an exceptional suitor.

After all, it is not everyday you are offered the chance to become a Queen.’

“She has named our dearest daughter a ‘winter blossom’, no doubt in reference to our family crest, darling!” Thomas’ eyebrows lifted at the high praise and yes, it was true. The family crest consisted of blooming hellebores and a snowy owl taking flight. “She also named our daughter to be a worthy adversary of the season’s Incomparable, Daphne Bridgerton!” Elaine gushed, taking a seat beside her husband and her skirts pooled with the air trapped but she seemed nonplussed as did Thomas who watched her with an adoring smile. “Isn’t that wonderful, darling?” 

“I’d consider that a high honour indeed!” Thomas boasted proudly, raising his teacup to you and a sigh left your lips, ever world-weary. 

“Looks more like a wilted weed to me.” Your brother teased and earned a reproachful stare from your parents, Ryder shrugged off the blistering glare from your mother before turning back to his book. 

“Mama,” you implored, the paper crinkling in your tight grip, “do not put any stock into Whistledown’s scribblings- she has a tendency to exaggerate and her words incite challenge when there is no need for it.” You scoffed, tossing the offending scrap on the plush cushion beside you, “she has surely just made Daphne and I targets for the 200 other girls for the entire season!” 

Ryder stood from his place across the room and moved closer, snatching the crinkled sheet from the pillow and plopped himself down, taking in its contents for himself, “Cressida Cowper is going to eat you alive, dearest sister.”

“Please do not remind me of Cressida Cowper, do I not appear distressed enough for you to cease your mistimed jibes, brother?” Your tone heightened, echoing somewhat in the drawing room.

Ryder’s smirk softened into a worried frown and took your hand in his in a soothing fashion, soft thumb massaging the space between your knuckles, “apologies, sweet sister. I only wished to make light of your situation for your own piece of mind.” 

Sighing, you whispered your own apology at your sudden snap and you hummed softly in thought before a mischievous grin curled against your lips, “if anyone should feel concerned about Cressida Cowper’s intentions, I would think you to be more perturbed than I, older brother. The heir to the Duke of Wintere, a monumental promise of success to any willing debutante, I’m certain.” Ryder shuddered at the thought of the ill-mannered girl setting gladiatorial eyes on him and the notion of the high prospects he would bring to the mart. Immediately abandoning your hand, he burrowed himself deeper into the seat beside you and flicked the sheet out dramatically.

It was an indiscreet attempt to occupy his mind elsewhere as he kept his eyes firmly on the black print, yet he took not one word of the information in.

“Darling, this is good.” Your mother’s voice gently eased you from you and your brother’s banter as she reached forward and took your hand in hers, “this means that suitors will now take notice of you, and if this king hears word of your beauty in Whistledown’s musings, then I believe we should all be thankful to the woman, do you not agree?”

Your fingers curled around hers but your eyes remained downcast at your half-sewn needlepoint and you sighed softly, “I don’t see the need for such articles to be published. There will be enough dramatics to satisfy the weak-minded all season.” 

“Your mother and I only want what is best for you, little owlet.” Your eyes raised to meet Thomas’, his gaze warm, tone loving as he levelled you with an adoring smile, “if it eases your mind, I have come across some news of this new ruler during my time at the club. I have heard he is just and fair. An honourable gentleman if somewhat mysterious as Lady Whistledown reports. You have nothing to lose by dazzling him with your grace and charm- but you have everything to gain if you succeed in wooing him. You have no need for tricks or deception to win the attention of any suitor, for you are perfect just the way you are.” Tears blurred your vision, threatening to slip down your cheeks. Your frown turned into a watery smile as your father placed his warm, large hand over you and your mothers, “and I shall be there to protect you and only agree to a match deserving of a jewel such as yourself.” 

You sniffled back the forming tears before smiling warmly, “thank you, Papa.” 

“There is no need for gratitude, dearest. This is a father’s duty; one I aim to fulfill to the highest regard-” Your father’s words were cut short as one of the servants walked into the drawing room.

“Your dresses have arrived, Your Grace, my Lady.”

“Ooh!” Elaine shot up from her seat, clapping in excitement before grabbing your hand and hauling you upstairs to your room, “we must find the perfect gown for tonight’s fete!” 

Your sputtering and half formed protests carried down the hallway as Thomas opened the newspaper that had been sitting untouched in his lap, chuckling indulgently, “ever the child, your mother.” 

Ryder shook his head in amusement, a smile curling his lips.

"Have you read the newest Whistledown? Foreign royalty searching for a suitable bride? I suspect this season will turn out to be exemplary.” 

"I heard that this King's treasury is one to rival the Crown itself."

"I heard he has a son, yet there is no mother that has come forward to claim the child. A most scandalous affair, indeed!"

"I heard that their land is rich in minerals. Some type of iron that is nigh indestructible! I'd wager it'd fetch a high price."

"Daphne Bridgerton locked in a violent competition with the Duke and Duchess of Wintere’s daughter? How delicious."

"I have never heard of this Mandalore, is it near Scotland?"

You were barely able to contain your ire for the gossiping hounds polluting the air of the ballroom. 

Your jaw ticked imperceptibly and you fought the urge to roll your eyes so hard you would be able to see the back of your head.

Their whispers were anything but that as you walked past each intrusive mama and daughter as they revelled in the rumors etched in the latest scandal sheet authored by Lady Whistledown, containing information of a supposed king attending the ball. 

Your eyes scanned the ballroom and made contact with the youngest Featherington- carving a path for her, her rounded figure swathed in a bright, eye-catching yellow gown that suited her complexion and figure little, yellow beads and jewels glittering in the lights overhead.

You caught her eye and her shy demeanor slipped somewhat as she smiled, excited to see a familiar face and you curled your arm through hers and locked them together, “why have I not seen you on the dance floor, Miss Featherington?” You asked and Penelope sighed. 

“I am just admiring the view, Lady Dalton,” you raise one brow at the title and her tiny frown curled into an indulgent smile as she corrected herself and called you by your given name, “you seem to have taken the room by storm when you joined the dance floor, every bachelor here has his eyes on you and Daphne tonight. I would think many of the suitors here are bursting at the seams for your hand- and it is your third season as well.” 

“No doubt to Lady Whistledown’s meddling, I’d wager. I have already entertained enough male suitors tonight. I shall take my leave of them for the time being,” your tone changed to a slight whine which served to incite Penelope’s rich giggles, “have you taken your turn about the room?” 

“I’m afraid I am not as carefully provided for as you, my Lady. Father has decided to forego these events and my mama is not quite so attuned to my aspirations to ensure a well-rounded tour.” 

“Well, then, allow me, Miss Featherington.” You hummed politely, smiling brilliantly at the shy girl who returned the gesture just as brightly and you led the way about the hall. Nodding your head politely to every suitor that greeted you, you curled closer to Penelope, “I see your mother is surveying the hall with Lady Cowper and Lady Edgecomb.” Penelope’s world-weary exhale betrayed her true thoughts and you ran a soothing line along the back of her hand with your thumb, “the determination of rumormongers is indeed boundless, are they not? Perhaps, we shall next be blessed with the sight of them suspended from the rafters with ear trumpets to survey even the most meagre pieces of gossip.” Penelope giggled, covering her mouth with her hand daintily as she did so, bowing her head. 

“Ah,” Anthony Bridgerton exclaimed, his arm encircled with Daphne’s as they stepped in front of you, “Miss Featherington, Lady Dalton.” 

“Penelope,” Daphne spoke your names warmly, her bright smile widening as she curtseyed perfectly.

“Lord Bridgerton, Daphne.” You and Penelope greeted in unison, curtseying elegantly though you felt your arm tense as Penelope teetered on her feet in an attempt to keep her balance. You rose rather quickly to save her any embarrassment, “how fares the hunt, Daphne? Many of the most eligible suitors have presented themselves at this fete, don’t you agree?”

“Oh yes, my Lady.” Anthony spoke over his sister, answering for her. “Quite a well-rounded affair. Why, I can count every worthy bachelor on each finger of my left hand.” Daphne stared at her brother, aghast but your tinkling laughter could not be hidden with a well-placed hand over your mouth.

“I could only hope that you could spare a finger for my own brother, my Lord? Is he not worthy of your high praise? I would hate to inform my father of this scandalous news!” You teased slyly, a sparkle of mischief in your eyes as Anthony chuckled.

“Of course, my lady. Ryder Dalton, heir to the title Duke of Wintere is honest and true. A man worthy of the title he will one day inherit.” You bowed your head gracefully at the praise.

“Did you read the latest entry of Lady Whistledown’s scandal sheet?” Daphne asked, head inclined slightly in question and your lip curled in irritation, earlier humor forgotten.

“Unfortunately, dearest Daphne. What does this author hope to accomplish by sowing dissension among peers? It is only going to be harder for us if we are to be locked in this invented rivalry until the season ends. Not to mention that all other 200 fine young women will see us as common adversaries to quarrel for a desirable bachelor.” You shook your head and sighed wistfully.

“Perhaps, Lady Whistledown’s sources were incorrect in their counsel. I have yet to see a comely King from a foreign land in our midst.” Daphne teased and you chuckled, nodding as you looked about the room but gazed over no fanfare nor buzzing enthusiasm.

“Nor a royal guard. What do you think, Penelope?” You hummed and the young woman beside you almost wiggled with excitement to be counted.

“I believe that Lady Whistledown is breeding a development early in the season to incite challenge.” You voiced a wordless agreement and Penelope continued, her fingers still clinging to yours, “Her Majesty is one to be enthralled and I would think that the public invitation to this monarch of Mandalore is an attempt to bring about said excitement.” Penelope’s curls bounced around her rounded face as she spoke and you took her words in with great thought. 

“A compelling view, if I ever heard!” Anthony complimented and Penelope bowed at Anthony’s flattery, “if you ladies will excuse us, we still must take our view of the room.” 

“Ah, we shall keep you no longer! Happy hunting, my Lord. Good luck, Daphne.” You sympathised genuinely and Daphne huffed in agreement as her brother pulled her away. “That was excellent, Penelope. Sharp wit, indeed!” 

Your words were met with sweet giggles from your friend as you continued your turn about the room, dance cards dangling delicately from your gloved wrists in and quizzed Penelope on the memory of her miniatures, impressed with her skill to point out each suitor with ease.

Once Penelope tired of walking, she took her rest by the edge of the dance floor and you bid her luck before striding to the refreshments table in search of a beverage to quench your thirst.

Your eyes remained locked on the small glasses of lemonade, unbothered with taking care in your surroundings- you were shocked to feel someone knock into you rather forcefully. You stumbled, unable to right yourself and you could feel your traitorous feet tangle around each other. 

Time seemed to slow to a complete stop, though your mind ran freely and aware. A frisson of fear crackled down your spine at the premature embarrassment of the predicament you were just about to drop yourself in just as you felt strong hands slip against your back, righting you almost as quickly as your legs betrayed you. 

“Oh, goodness, please do excuse my-” your apology trailed off into stunned silence as you took in the unfamiliar man you could call your savior. This stranger that had his arms around you in a most improper fashion and you know you should untangle yourself from his touch immediately but the heat of his large, ungloved hands bled into the exquisite material of your gown, through your corset and seared directly into the flesh of your arched back.

His clothing was much the same of every suitor attending, nothing unique or flamboyant to stand out amongst the countless other candidates. The slight crinkles in his suit brought an air of indifference- as if he cared little for the state of his dress. What persuaded you to fully take in his form, was his sun kissed, bronze skin that shone deep in the synthetic light of the chandelier accompanied by the ornate lights mounted on the wall; so striking and different from the many men that boasted pale complexions and youth.

You could see the ruggedness in the etchings in his skin, the lines that betrayed his advanced age compared to the others in attendance. The hair atop his head was rich and dark with slight streaks of gray, airy soft curls that adorned his head like a crown, wild and untamed. The same dark hair that graced his head, also carved around his jawline and upper lip, small patches of hair scarce in some places- so unlike the pronounced fashions in high society and you found yourself preferring the unkemptness. His eyes were a harsh change from the softness of his hair, striking and bold. They glittered like dark gems in the gentle lights as he perused your features, intelligent yet curious as he took you in with a cool countenance and thick brows pulled together in an expression of concern.

A prominent nose curved down with a hooked slope, rather large but it suited him and you fought the urge to caress the curved bridge with your fingertip. Pink lips parted, thin but pillowy as the tip of a red tongue slipped between to hydrate the slightly chapped flesh. 

It set him apart from the rest, a beauty you so desperately wished to explore.

Just as you studied this unfamiliar man, he also took your form in. 

His gaze was not leering like many of the bachelors loitering about the room- nor a lecherous grin curved those sinfully soft lips as he drank in your appearance with ease, noting every detail and micro expression with rapid ease and forced himself to cease the ever growing notion to tighten his arms around you, drag you closer to his chest when he felt the way your body curled into his touch, seeking the warmth he provided on a subconscious level. 

Clearing his throat softly, he righted you on your feet and took a step back, bowing at the waist and a soft curl slipped in front of his handsome features, concealing his left eye, “forgive my impropriety, my Lady,” his voice was deep, rasped and foreign and those same lips curled around each word with an elegance none of the men here could hope to match, “my intentions were pure, I assure you. I did not mean-” 

“-t-the apologies are mine, my Lord. I did not see you.” You cut off his apology, your usual confidence abandoning you and curtseyed softly before you both straightened in tandem, “please accept my most sincere apologies.” 

“Only if you accept mine, my Lady, as I was the one to knock you.” This man raised his eyes to meet yours, a small smile playing on his lips at your stunned expression. 

Realising how unladylike you seemed, you quickly smoothed your expression into a serene smile and bowed your head gently, “well then, I accept your apology, my Lord.” 

“And now, I shall receive yours.” He bowed once again, though his eyes never once strayed from yours, his hand coming to brush back the curl that slipped in front of his face, freeing his eye from the obstacle. “Quite an affair, is it not?”

You turned to look upon the room and the dozens of bodies packed in the lavish ball and the bodies moving in rhythmic synchronisation as they flounced around the dancefloor, skirts billowing and waistcoats whipping. “Yes, my Lord. It is certainly a promising fete.” You ripped your gaze from the dancers and you looked back to the mysterious suitor that you know for a fact his profile has never graced your miniatures. “I do not believe I have had the pleasure, my Lord.” You introduced yourself and he bowed his head in a nod to your status. 

“Din Djarin, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Lady.”

You did not miss the way he left out his title, not many men did. It was refreshing to meet someone unbothered by status and titles. You smiled brilliantly and for a moment, he had trouble remembering how to breathe. 

How did people do this?

“What brings you to London, Lord Djarin? I do not believe I have seen you here.” You certainly couldn’t recall seeing those mesmerizing, yet prominent features etched in your miniatures.

“I’m in town for business, mostly- but I thought I would attempt to join the fray of finding a beautiful woman to make my bride.” Din’s eyes found yours when his lips curved out the word ‘beautiful’. You could feel your cheeks heat and quickly brought the tiny glass to your lips and took a long draught- almost emptying the glass entirely. It was unseemly on your part but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care, you needed to soothe your drying throat and tame the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“And what better place to be than a cotillion for ambitious debutants who are searching for the perfect match?” Betraying your inner emotions, you struck up kind conversation, performing an air of confidence and strengthened your resolve. A wide smile stretched his lips, revealing perfect, straight teeth and the act of a simple smile brightened his features. Your heart slammed against your ribcage in response, your steely courage cracking in half with little to no effort.

He took a sip of his own lemonade just as a pair of gossiping mama’s walked past you both, talking loud enough for you to overhear their conversation with minimal exertion- if any, “and where, pray tell, is this so-called king?"

"Perhaps, Whistledown's sources were wrong. You can never trust a scandal sheet these days, I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be a charlatan." 

You swallowed the sigh you desperately craved to release and inwardly shook yourself free from the coils of irritation that started to constrict around you before turning your attention back to the mysterious lord, only to notice his eyes were following the rumormongers and you helped yourself to a portioned sip of lemonade in an endeavor to quell the heat burning within you. A certain dark fire heated his gaze, stoking a reaction in you. Something deep and primal you had never experienced before and you suppressed a shudder at the ferocity clearly displayed in those deep, dark eyes.

“What are your thoughts on this foreign monarch, my Lord?” You barely managed to choke out, Din’s eyes snapped back to you as your question hung in the air and you swallowed subtly as his piercing gaze burned through yours.

“My thoughts?” He rasped, shifting on his feet in a show of subtle anxiousness. His earlier fire dissipating and awkward trepidation took the forefront.

“What do you make of the rumors surrounding the arrival of a ruler of a distant land coming to London to participate in the season?” You tilted your head in innocent curiosity, “surely, you have heard of this mysterious King hailing from his distant realm?”

“Rumor articles and gossip do not interest me, but yes, I am familiar with the topic you wish to discuss.” His smile twisted his lips into a forced stretch- barely passing for genuine and you weren’t sure as to why he seemed so uncomfortable when just moments earlier he was quite at ease conversing with you.

“And what do you make of his scarcity when his arrival was rumored to be a most certain guarantee? I should think the King would be thankful for not attending. Overbearing mothers and their equally simpering daughters have proven to be nuisances at the best of times.”

“Is that so?” Din looked at you, surprise colouring his pleasing features at your unfiltered response, “are you not disappointed that you may not meet this ruler and further your prospects on the mart?” His hand gestured subtly at his side, the barely touched lemonade sloshing dangerously close to the rim, “it would be a high honour to catch the eye of a king, now would it not?”

You chuckled, ducking your head for a moment, reflecting on your answer before opening your lips, “as silly as it may sound, I wish to marry for love.” You raised your hand, noncommittal waving it about, “I realise it will never happen, you do not endure two seasons with silly notions of love intact. I must maintain a status beholden of my title and secure a proper, advantageous match. But I can operate under the illusion of hope, can I not?” Din’s eyes cast down in thought, your words were soft, spoken quietly as if you were afraid another may overhear- whether by accident or on purpose, he could not say.

But the sincerity in your eyes could not be overlooked, the innocent yearning for a future that could very well be out of your reach sparkled against the hues of your irises. 

“Perhaps your aspirations will be met, my Lady.” Din smiled kindly and you hummed in thought, but your brilliant smile was dim. Working up his courage, he set the small glass of his barely touched lemonade on the refreshment table and vaguely gestured to the dancefloor, anxiousness twisting his features almost comically, “w-would you care to dance?”

His hand was large, rough with thick fingers. They were working hands, familiar with hard labour and you shivered imperceptibly at the thought of those hands running down the expanse of your naked flesh. 

You took a few steps forward, maintaining a respectable distance for propriety’s sake. With a smooth movement, you gently leant around him- his eyes never left yours as you placed your glass on the refreshment table beside his.

A gentle scent curled into your nose, blessing your senses with the subtle hints of sweet spices, oak and . . . a touch of gunpowder.

A heady, peculiar scent and it suited its wearer perfectly.

You slid your gloved hand into his, fingers slipping against his palm. The gossamer material caught on the rough skin of his palm and his lips upturned into a grin. “It would be my pleasure, Lord Djarin.” He grinned and you helped him by pointing to the card around your wrist and he made a soft ‘oh’ sound before taking hold of it and let go of your hand to grip the tiny pencil- thick fingers swallowing the dainty stationary and you smiled as he filled the Canon Galop Quadrille with his name in sharp, messy strokes.

“Shall we?” He let the card and pencil drop as his fingers snaked up your wrist slowly, feeling every dip and hollow before clasping your hand gently and leading you to the dance floor. “I must confess, I’m not accustomed to dancing all that much. I pray you forgive me if I fumble.”

You chuckled softly as you joined the other couples on the dancefloor and took your places. You smiled at Din who shuffled in place subtly, waves of anxiety pouring out of him, “I will not judge you, Lord Djarin. You have my most sincere promise and if you have any issues with the steps, I shall guide you. Do not worry.” He looked at you, your soothing tone calming the raging storm of distress inside him and he reciprocated with a smile of his own. 

The music began to play as you curtseyed to the other couples and took your place in front of Din, your hand slipping into his and a strong muscular arm wrapped around your back, large hand splayed across the expanse of your skin and you suppressed another shudder at the addicting heat he emitted. With a gentle nod, the tempo in the set increased and you began to skip about the room with practiced ease.

You gently tilted in a different direction, silently alluding to the next movement and he carried you effortlessly through the throngs of couples, winding around the dancefloor perfectly.

Giggles erupted from your throat, this particular dance always brought out the child within you and Din smiled at the sound, finding that he wished to hear it more often. “I dare say, my Lord, that you move quite well for not being accustomed to this particular dance.”

“I’m rather accustomed to a life outdoors, perhaps it has aided me well.” Din murmured, tightening his hold against your back.

You twisted and twirled around the dancefloor, weaving around bodies and as you separated to complete the next act of the dance, your eyes never left his and the mysterious man seemed more than content to hold your gaze and then you were back in each other’s arms.

“Perhaps, we could discuss the matter of dancing etiquette further, at a more. . private venue?” You asked quietly, alluding for him to call on your home. 

Before he could open his mouth to reply, a loud thump hit the ground and the music paused abruptly and you both stopped, all the guests' gazes swivelled to the ballroom doors as they were thrust open violently.

Gasps and shrieks rippled across the room as two armoured warriors marched forward, spears in hand and their features concealed by unusual helmets, stark colours streaked across the material in a wash of deep reds, browns, yellows and teals along with similarly handprints. A dark- completely opaque visor stretched across their helmets before spanning down, splintering the armour in half.

The curve of their coloured breastplates indicated their feminine physiques, pieces of vibrant painted plates clung to the thick, almost tribal clothing they wore beneath- sharp hues of red and brown adorned their bodies, hems tied tight with pieces of dark leather around their wrists and calves. Fur lined the capes around their shoulders as the thick material flowed to their booted feet, the leather scuffed and worn- creased from years of dedication and physical labor. 

Yet your eyes remained trained on the pure silver spears they held at the sides, pointed ends lifted straight in the air as they slammed the butts of the weapons down against the polished floors in tandem. 

A loud metallic ringing filled the ballroom and harsh bootfalls began to echo. 

Din stiffened in your arms before gently extricating you from his hold, the both of you turning to face the open entrance.

You swallowed harshly as a hulking figure took the space of the doorway, silver armour gleamed in the lights above, clearly displaying the pure gold accents weaved through the chest plate and accompanying pieces- dark clothes thick and concealing any form of skin to be shown, brown gloves worn, flaxen tips stark against the deep colours.

Just like his guards, he was not unarmed. But unlike carrying a spear of his own- you did not miss the pure obsidian claymore sheathed around his back. The hilt was brilliant against the darkness of the blade- made up of what seemed to be the same material that adorned his body. 

His helmet was simple- unlike the tribal colourings of his people, his was silver- notes of gold bled through the seams of the visor, framing it with its simplistic beauty and fur lined his shoulders, gold chain clinking against the silver metal and the crimson cape billowed behind him as he continued with his heavy gait. 

“Is it him? Surely not!”

“I expected a fanfare- yet this is not what I had imagined.”

“Do they dress like this in Mandalore? Will I have to?!”

“Look at them, so primal!”

“Why do they carry weapons? So uncivilised.” 

Whispers filled the hall as the foreign stranger stopped, his helmet scanning the room.

“The twenty-fourth monarch of our sovereign land,” The guards called, demanding silence from all in attendance, “The First of Clan Mudhorn and sole ruler of Manda’yaim. We present our king, the Manda’lor.” Their fists beat against their breastplates as they turned and faced their leader and bent their knee to the floor, heads bowed in respect. “This is the Way.”

The dark visor continued to survey the hall until it stopped-

-directly onto you.

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes caught your reflection staring back at you from across the room, you could no longer feel Din’s presence beside you. A quiet, rasping voice rang true from beneath the ornate silver helm, so familiar and yet completely unplaceable.

“This is the Way.”

[nsheetee]

Can you plz do a part 3 of idol! jisung x idol! reader💚💜

Prologue || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Final

summary: you don’t notice that jisung gave you some hickies from the night before until after you’ve already gone out in public. once your fans get ahold of the pictures of your hickies, speculations arise about who gave them to you.

details: some swearing, mentions of stray kids

you and jisung fell asleep

it was probably a bit stupid of you considering the heavy situation you’re in

but when you two laid down together, his steady breathing and warm embrace knocked you right out

you woke up by a knock on your door, one of your members peaking their head into your room

“jisung? wake up, it’s time to go.” the door shut after that, silence filling the room

you roll over and check your phone

4:29am

“seriously? you have to leave at 4 in the morning?” you groan, sleepily sitting up with jisung at your side

he hasn’t opened his eyes yet, just licking his dry lips and running a hand through his bed hair

despite your annoyance, you smile at the scene and lean in to peck his cheek, in your sleepy haze you miss and land on his jaw

jisung snorts lightly, opens his eyes, and looks at you, loving every out-of-place hair and lazy flutter of your eyelashes

“I don’t want to leave.” his words are a bit too heavy for 4am, and it sobers you both up

“I don’t want you to leave.” neither of you know when you’ll see each other next, or under what pretenses 

you both unwillingly get out of bed and walk to the front door, there waits jeno and renjun

“c’mon jisung, we need to sneak you back into our dorm before 5. you own us a meal for getting up at the ass crack of dawn to come get you.” renjun throws a mask and a black hat at jisung, which he catches and puts on

jisung turns to you one last time and takes your hand in his, squeezing it a bit

“everything will be okay. we’ll make it work.”

and with that, the three guys leave and your dorm is blanketed with silence

you lock the door after them, and then look at your hand that jisung just held

he slid a squarely folded piece of paper into your palm during that quick touch, and you unfold it to read jisung’s scratchy handwriting

“saturday night, 11pm. park next to the the place we had our first date.”

the little piece of paper only brings more questions

you just spent the night with him, why didn’t he just tell you to meet there? why did he have to skillfully slide the information into your palm?

and why did he want to see you saturday night, and so late in the evening, too?

your curiosity rises even more when you realize that your group next comeback happens just a few days before

what is your boyfriend planning?

you sluggishly walk back to your room, putting the piece of paper into your bedside table and dropping into your bed face first

you land in the spot where jisung slept in and bury your face even deeper into the covers, hugging a pillow

it’s not the same as actually cuddling with your boyfriend, but it works for now

wishing that jisung, jeno, and renjun got back to their dorm safely, you doze off and once again fall into a deep sleep

it only seems like a few minutes passed when you’re woken up again

this time around, there’s a harsh banging on your door, much louder than the knocking that woke you up earlier

“what is it?” you groan loudly, hugging your pillow tighter to your chest

“you better not still be asleep. we have choreo rehearsal in 20 minutes.”

you shoot up in a sitting position, looking at your clock to conform that you indeed have choreo in 20 minutes

the drive to the studio is 10 minutes

on a good day

you run your hand over your face and force yourself to get up, a throbbing in your knee telling you to put on some ice later since your bruise is still fussy

you don’t think too much, just do everything in your power to make yourself ready for rehearsal in 10 minutes and then run out the door with the rest of your group’s members 

and since this day just keeps getting better and better, you’re greeted by several fans and news reporters at the entrance of the studio, no doubt wanting to catch sight of you or your members right before your next comeback 

although you love your fans and wouldn’t be in your position without them, their presence at the moment makes you emotionally tired, not prepared to deal with this so early in the morning

you make the walk from the car to inside the studio, which should’ve only taken a few seconds but instead took a few minutes, and quickly forget about what’s happening outside

you focus on practice, on making yourself better, and on honing your craft

during break time, you’re laying down on your back with the random hoodie you picked up this morning over your head, taking deep breathes and nursing your knee

“y/n, get up” you hear mia, your leader, say from above you

cracking open an eye, you look up and see her with one hand on her hip and the other holding her phone

after you sit up, mia pulls off your hood and gasps as she looks at you

“geez, I know I don’t look that great right now but you don’t have to make that face...” you grumble at her overreaction and she rolls her eyes

“no, dummy, your bruises are all over the internet. how can you not cover them up?”

“it’s just a knee bruise, what’s so special about it?” you look down at your leg

“not that one,” mia groans, pointing to her neck, “those.”

you turn around to face the mirror on the wall and gasp, making the same face mia had given you just a few seconds ago

“oh, no.”

under the lighting of the studio, you can see the patches of dark spots that cover the sides of your neck

you try to recall how they got there

a blur of what you and jisung did last night runs through your mind and you faintly remember him kissing your neck

but you didn’t think he would leave such dark hickies from just a few kisses

you and jisung must’ve underestimated just how strong he is

nevertheless, embarressment rises in you

you really just want to go home now, maybe sleep the rest of the day, or week, away

“wow, look at our little y/n,” dani, the oldest member of your group grins and sits down behind you on the cold wood floor, hugging you from the back, “so grown up.”

“please,” you try to push her away, “I'm so stupid. I need to be more careful.” 

from the paparazzi catching you and jisung kissing on the street several weeks ago and to now, with hickies all over your neck, you must be the most careless idol in the whole industry

“hey, don’t say that.” sooyeon, who is the visual of your group, says and slides closer to where you and dani are sitting on the floor

“your boyfriend gave you those. sure, it might seem embarrassing to have such a personal thing be known to the public, but c’mon, you guys are dating... what does everyone think you two do in your free time? hold hands under the table and kiss each other’s cheeks?”

“she’s right.” dani mumbles, “no need for shame. you and jisung did nothing wrong.” 

your members’ words make you feel better, until kara, the only foreign member of your group, speaks up

“well, actually,” all of the attention turns to her as she looks up nervously from her phone

“what?”

“people don’t think jisung gave you those.”

you and the other three members all tilt your heads simultaneously 

“they think i.n. from stray kids did.”

the comment alone almost gives you whiplash, and you rise to your feet and walk over to kara, looking at her phone

an article is pulled up on the screen, and right on the top of the page is a picture of you from this morning, hickies and all, and next to that is a picture of i.n. from what you assume is also this morning, some hickies on his neck as well

it seems that by some strange coincidence, you’ve been wrongly accused of dating stray kids’ i.n. 

“okay, I'll admit to sneaking jisung up to y/n’s room last night, but which one of you rats snuck i.n. up there, too?” mia asks and sooyeon throws a plastic water bottle at her feet at her lame excuse of a joke

“what is this?” you ask to no one in particular, reading the words “dating scandal” fly across the comments section of the article multiple times

“if you think about it, the company never made an official statement about you and jisung, and you two were out of the public eye for a while.” dani thinks out loud, leaning back on her hands

“and it is pretty strange to see two idols with hickies on their necks in the same morning. when does that ever happen?” mia adds on

“but I've never even met him before! this doesn’t make any sense.”

“y/n,” kara tangles her hand in yours to reassure you, her next words speaking truth and stunning everyone into silence, “the tabloids don’t care about that. they only care about the story, and for anyone other than us, it’s very easy to manipulate a few small details to spread a whole fake story.”

you can’t help but slowly sink down to the ground, your thoughts starting to consume you

what will happen to your career now?

will this ruin your groups comeback?

and the question that’s in front of all the others:

how is jisung going to react to this?

[revalise]

After the Sun [M] | 01

Pairing: Chrollo Lucilfer x Fem. OC

Genre: Romance and eventual smut

Rating: M

Words: 2500+

Notes: Huge thanks to Sky @pixiewombat for beta reading this chapter! 

All characters are humans unless otherwise stated in their description. Hence, Zazan is human in the story.

Masterlist | Prologue | 02

Chrollo Lucilfer gets everything he wants, when he wants-even if it means undergoing extreme measures. Nothing bothered him, until an aphrodite, Astra Gerber, appeared one night and stole from the infamous thief. In return that Chrollo doesn’t report her, he strikes a deal. But it could be more than what Astra bargained for. 

BOLD

“What do you mean your necklace was stolen?” Pakunoda eyed Chrollo carefully as he sat behind his desk at his penthouse, looking over the magnificent, illuminating lights of Yorknew City, while she stood in front of him.

“It just was stolen,” he deadpanned.

Pakunoda clicked her tongue. There was no way someone could steal from Chrollo—a bandit himself, and a good one at that.

She thought to herself for a moment. ‘Is he planning to steal the poor girl’s hatsu?’

Once, he had charmed the pants off of a girl who could write fortunes and stole her ability. Despite his obvious antics, he wasn’t found out, thanks to the girl’s inexperience. But when he managed to get a hold of how it should be done, he started doing it again and again. 

Pakunoda didn’t complain. Chrollo’s Bandit’s Secret was a trump card, not only for him, but for the rest of the group. When Chrollo noticed the drastic advantage the ‘strategy’ gave him, he started using it more often. To him, it felt like a shortcut.

And who would expect someone so sophisticated and pretty-boy looking?

She sighed and put the folder down on his desk.

Chrollo had asked Pakunoda to find the girl who had stolen his necklace. He remained vague about it, but knowing Chrollo, it might be something extremely important. 

He looked over the files, silently reading their contents, taking them in just as he consumed  knowledge from his ancient books. His fingers traced the letters of the name written in bold on one of the pages.

ASTRA BEATRIZ GERBER

Pakunoda gazed at him with suspicion. Meddling with this girl could endanger the nature of the group. She was nowhere near a simple girl, alright. The girl spelled trouble.

She was the illegitimate child of an acknowledged former lawyer, Martin Gerber, before he took over the Gerber family dynasty.  

This information wasn’t exactly kept a secret. It was silent gossip within the small circle of socialites and elites. Illegitimate children weren’t news to the circle. Three out of five families in the circle had a case of their own. But it so happened that the Gerber family was known to be conservative—faithful to their betrothed, or as painted by the media.

Nevertheless, it only took that mistake to have the head of the family, Rod Gerber,  wavering in his trust in Martin. To his dismay, this almost cost him the whole dynasty. Fortunately, Rod was a good man, unlike his son. To secure his position in becoming the next successor as the eldest, Martin had to keep the child and take her as his own.

It shamed Martin to do so, keeping an illegitimate of his own accord. Though his wife was noticeably against it, she had to agree if she wanted to be the wife of the very powerful man. Cleverly, she argued that it would bring discomfort to her family if the child were to live in the same house as them. Rod then agreed that Martin would just have to sustain the needs of the child in the mother’s care.

Chrollo took all of the information  in, almost feeling bad for the girl, if  it weren’t for his own experiences.  

The same thought as Pakunoda had crossed his mind. Her father had connections in law. If Chrollo, say for example, met the girl’s father and he decided to look deeper into Chrollo and his background, it wouldn’t really be a problem. The group knew how to cut their ties. They eliminated those who had seen them. But if worse came to worst, this could have blown the group’s cover. 

The Phantom Troupe weren’t regular thieves. They were thieves with intellect that calculated their every movement. Before they acted on anything, Chrollo, who had a personal philosophy of theological dualism - the balance between good and evil - that influenced his decisions, would first weigh his options. His actions were always calculated.

It was not that they feared the law or the man himself, but the Phantom Troupe managed to blend in with the crowd, no one knew of who they were. And the group loved being free despite the criminality they commit.

From the moment he first laid his eyes on her, he knew she was trouble.

But none of the information stopped him.

***

Zazan promised Astra dinner. But it was way past dinner, and the staff of the three-star Michelin restaurant she had booked kept going back and forth, assisting and asking for her order, which she refused to give until her aunt arrived.

Her aunt, Zazan, was her father, Martin’s, little sister. For all her life, she was her mother figure. Zazan always had her back whenever her father didn’t. Her aunt loved designer and luxury items, and was a designer herself. Hence, her love for luxury and designer.

To state it simply, Astra was given to her aunt after she lived with her dad for two years when her mother died. She was only six then.

She remembers how much scorn she received from Martin’s legitimate family, and how she was treated as less than a freeloader, being an illegitimate child. Not once did her father defend her from them.

After all, she was a nobody, aside from the Gerber blood running through her veins.

Astra, at four, never spoke with anyone, not even the maids that served the family in their mansion. She remained quiet, hiding inside her room, but doing everything she was told—even standing for hours, with no food and water, beside the silver knight decorations in the hallway of their house because her older half-sister told her to. She ignored the numbing sensation in her knees until a helper saw her.

That was, until Zazan returned to the city and took interest in the meek, little girl she once was. And for the first time in two years, she spoke and her voice sounded hoarse. Her words were: “Can I come with you?”

From then on, Zazan took her as her own. Martin had no objections, nor did his family. In fact, the situation was in their favor. In his father’s eyes, as long as Astra wasn’t disobedient or brought problems—more than she already had, being an illegitimate—upon the family, it’d be fine.  

However, it seemed Astra grew up to be a spitting image of Zazan’s personality. Astra grew bolder, braver, and stronger, all because she had Zazan to look up to. But Astra wasn’t nice on a daily basis. She was nowhere near a saint.

“May I take your order, miss?” a smiling boy, who looked a few years younger than Astra, came to assist her. But a girl, wearing the same uniform as him, came to them, gripping his arm.

“Sorry, miss.” The staff leaned in closer to the boy’s ear to whisper, “I’ve been trying to take her order. She’s waiting for someone, but I think she got stood up.”

“Oh...” the boy muttered “Too bad, she actually looks pretty.”

He turned his attention to Astra, about to apologize, when she interrupted him.

Astra laced her fingers together, her elbows on the table, and rested her head on her hands. With a sarcastic tone, she said, “If you’re going to talk shit about me, consider doing it somewhere else where I can’t hear you.”

“S-sorry, miss…” the staff muttered, afraid. All of their customers had power, because only the rich could afford the place. They feared they could lose their jobs. Most of all, they knew who Astra was. They knew of her influence.

“But thanks for complimenting my looks.” Astra flashed a grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “Get me some champagne.”

They scurried to give her what she wanted, too obvious in wanting to leave her sight.

Astra leaned on her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. She clicked her tongue in impatience. For once, she regretted asking for champagne. She felt the urge to leave. To elites like her, hunger didn’t come, anyway; she’d still have a lot of food at home. She could leave before they gave her champagne, and leave cash three times the bill, but her pride made her stay.

And she hated to admit it, but she really needed to see her aunt. She needed someone.

She needed someone to hold her at times she felt like slipping away.

As Astra waited impatiently, a man sat at the opposite end of the table. It happened so quickly, she didn’t have the time to process it. The man looked studly in his crisp suit. He wore a white shirt underneath, topped with a dark blazer and slacks.

“I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” He asked in his most polite tone while he pulled at the opening of his blazer.

Her eyebrows shot up and she clicked her tongue, but she tried to maintain her composure. After all, it was a restaurant for the high-class. Manners above all.

“Sorry, you must have the wrong table.”

The man chuckled. “Oh, have you forgotten about me, miss? Allow me to reintroduce myself,” he grinned, “I’m the man you stole from a few nights ago.”

For a moment, perplexity was etched on her face, ‘Bitch, which one?’ 

Yes, the man looked a little familiar, but with the amount of people she was acquainted with, it was hard to keep track of the long list. 

“Oh, I see,” she said plainly. “I must’ve stolen from you when I was drunk.” 

Astra leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. She whispered, “You see, I have a habit of doing those when I’m drunk.” She flashed her sultry smile. 

Her hands reached for her fuchsia devotion bag made of python skin. It featured an exclusive bejeweled personalized heart closure, inspired by the techniques of fine jewelry, which etched her initials in it.

ABG

Astra clicked her tongue when her eyes met her initials on her bag. She laughed inwardly at how she sent it back to Italy when her initials weren’t in bold.

“How much was it? I could pay for it right now.”

The way the man grinned at her assured her that it’s done for. Game over. She wins. Whatever she did, she got away with it. Not because of her pull and connections, but because of her charm. And she knew it. She grinned at this. 

“Actually,” the man began, “I have other things in mind.”

“Oh,” Astra had a knowing smirk. She knew of what the man could possibly ask. It was no different. He was no different from all the other men she’d met before. ‘A night, perhaps?’

“Let’s hear it,” she said sultrily. 

It was the man’s turn to lean closer and rest his elbows on the table. He laced his hands together and flashed a smile. “I was thinking of jail time.”

Her hypocritical smile dropped. She was rendered shaken. Just as quick as the change in her mood, the sourness and bitterness of being embarrassed in front of the mysterious man in front of her, she showed her true colors. 

‘Where the fuck is my champagne?’ she thought.

Her back rested on her chair and she crossed her arms. “Name?” her tone was as rude as it could get. 

“Now we’re talking,” the man chuckled, and he rested his back on his chair as well. “Chrollo Lucilfer. I believe I already told you that. I’m hurt you forgot about me so easily.”

Astra didn’t reciprocate the demeanor Chrollo was showing. While Chrollo looked composed and polite, Astra, on the other hand, was irking in anger. 

“What do you want?” she spat, so rudely you wouldn’t think that it was the same woman who had been flashing sultry and inviting smiles.

“Nothing much, actually,” he grinned but it didn’t reach his eyes. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll discuss the matter, and I promise you it’d be done with.”

If it were only a few minutes ago, she would have gone with him at that very moment. She would’ve taken him to some backroom and let them do their business. But it was different now. 

To her, it seemed like the man didn’t want any physical relationships. He was danger, nothing else. 

“And if I refuse?” 

“Your scandalous actions will not only be known by your father, Martin Gerber, but your little circle as well,” he replied.

“I’m impressed. You’ve done your research about me,” she scoffed. 

One of the staff who assisted her earlier appeared with champagne in her hands. She kept her head down, but kept a shy smile and gave continuous glances toward Chrollo as she poured the liquid into their respective glass.

“Thanks, miss,” Chrollo flashed the girl a sweet smile. 

Astra could have sworn she saw the girl almost curtsy at that. She rolled her eyes. 

When the girl left, Astra arched her brow. Chrollo on the other hand, ignored her demeanor. “Shall I order you some real food?” 

He was about to call the staff again, but Astra stopped him. “I’m not hungry.”

For a moment, Astra almost regretted her actions because Chrollo might be hungry. But if it’d be the same staff who keep annoying her with how they tried to get the man’s attention, forget it. 

‘What is with this restaurant anyway? Why are they always the same people?’

Once the foam settled on her champagne, she drank it quickly, picked up her bag, and stood up. When she looked over at Chrollo, who still sat on his seat gazing at her, she scoffed. “I’m coming with you. Wait for me outside in a moment.”

“You’ve said that before,” he replied, reminiscing to when she said the exact thing when they met the other night, and then she was gone with his St. Peter’s cross necklace.

“You seriously have something on me. Do you think I’ll run away from you?” Astra argued. “Besides, you’ve done your research on me. So I expect you to appear wherever I am.”

“I don’t believe you,” Chrollo stood up. “Wherever you’re going, I’ll come with you.”

Astra rolled her eyes. If she didn’t have something, it would obviously be his trust. And she had to get it no matter what, if she wanted to get out of the situation quickly.

She turned on her heel and Chrollo followed closely behind her. Suddenly, something rang from Chrollo’s pocket when they stepped out of the restaurant and into the lobby of the luxury hotel. Astra turned her attention to it and then to his eyes looking back at hers. 

“Go,” she nodded at him in a dismissive manner. “I promise I won’t leave.”

Chrollo eyed her carefully, weighing the sincerity of her words, to which she responded with widening her eyes at him. There was a faint smile in Chrollo’s face before he finally took his phone out and turned his back on her. 

Astra lightly shook her head. She didn’t notice, but there was a small smile on her face as well. And just as if the timing couldn’t be more perfect, someone she knew all too well appeared in front of her, looking down at her, mocking her.

“Dad…” she whispered.  

[writingmyselfout]

Because I Could Not Stop for Death - Chapter Ten

Language: English

Rating: Teen+

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter

Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Reptilia28′s Don’t Fear the Reaper Challenge, Manipulative Dumbledore, Black Hermione Granger, Slight Ron Weasley Bashing

Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Chapter 10: Gimme Some Truth

Summary: The will.

MINERVA McGonagall was not generally known for impatience. In fact, quite the opposite: she was quite possibly one of the most patient women in the world, Muggle or otherwise. So it is with an uncharacteristic sense of impatience that she wakes early Saturday morning to get ready for her day back in London. When she realizes just how early, she forces herself to take her time with eating breakfast before taking the time to leave a reminder to her prefects and the Head Girl, a Gryffindor 7th year girl, that she would be away from the castle most of the day and they were to reach out to either Professor Flitwick or Professor Snape should the need arise.

In truth, she doesn’t anticipate anything of great importance occurring on the first weekend of the school year, but she’d also been teaching for long enough to know that when it came to hundreds of adolescent witches and wizards, it was best to prepare for the worst just in case.

She considers, briefly, letting the headmaster know of her plans but opts not to. His own weekends were usually busy, often resulting in him rarely leaving his office or leaving the school altogether for business elsewhere. Even if this were one weekend in which he was free enough to note her absence, she’s not inclined to give him advance notice of her plans. Perhaps it was paranoia, but considering his attempt to maintain guardianship over Harry, she thinks it possible that he might try to dissuade her from looking into the will, which she was determined to do. 

Finally, she heads out. The school’s security measures means she’s unable to leave directly from Hogwarts to Diagon Alley. Instead, she goes into Hogsmeade, greets a yawning Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks, and borrows her fireplace to Floo to the Leaky Cauldron in London. Most of the shops that made up Diagon Alley kept regular opening and closing hours, including those on Horizont Alley, Knockturn Alley, and Carkitt Market--side shopping areas--with only a few exceptions. Among those exceptions were the Owl Post Office and the Gringotts Money Exchange in the Carkitt Market, and the Healer Shop, Leaky Cauldron and Gringotts Bank directly on Diagon Alley, which were open all day, every day, for the convenience of their patrons. Some of the locations on Knockturn Alley likewise kept such hours, but McGonagall was not one to frequent that district, so which is knowledge she does not, nor cares to, possess.

What matters is that at eight o’clock in the morning, there are few out and about on Diagon Alley, but Gringotts Bank stands at attention at the end of the street, ready for its customers at all hours. And at this particular hour, there are few enough people even within the bank to ensure that she can be attended with little to no delay.

If there is one thing about Gringotts to be appreciated above all else, it is their efficiency. The goblins are not interested in wasting time, and are remarkably good at ensuring that all spells corresponding with Hogwarts and Ministry of Magic records are always working so their own documents are always up to date. They therefore are already well aware that guardianship has moved from the Headmaster to Harry Potter’s Head of House, one Minerva McGonagall. 

Upon stating her business, a goblin by the name of Nagnok is called to lead McGonagall to a room off of the main lobby. It’s a small office, with two chairs facing a desk behind which there is a chair, then a set of drawers set against the wall next to a back door. She’s instructed to take a seat as they would return shortly with the documents in question, then they leave through the back door. They are gone for less than five minutes when they return with a large envelope which, in place of a wax seal, has a string and button seal. Nagnok takes a seat at the desk, modified so that he is eye-level with the witch, and passes the envelope across the desk.

McGonagall looks at the envelope for a moment, then undoes the tie to open it. Inside, tied neatly together, is a small stack of papers with two envelopes slightly smaller than the one they’d been in sitting on top. She undoes that tie as well, places the original envelope and tie to one side, then separates the items before her. She sets down first one envelope, then the next, and finally the pages in a stack together. 

The first letter has Harry’s name written across it. When she flips it over, there is a gold wax seal with the image of a crest pressed into it. McGonagall realizes she has never seen the Potter family crest; had in fact never thought, as with most wizarding families, that there was none. The practice dated back to the twelfth century, and with the exception of families that had dealings with Muggle royals and received recognition from them, wizards and witches typically earned them for great contributions to the wizarding world after which the crest was magically included in Muggle records so as to avoid its use among Muggle nobles. McGonagall doesn’t quite remember when its usage fell out of favor and stopped being bestowed, simply that it was mostly only seen for institutions. Each wizarding school, for instance, and Gringotts as well as the Daily Prophet possessed their own heraldry. Not that she could recall what it looked like, but she was certain some of the older, wealthier families such as the Blacks and Malfoys similarly possessed their own unique family crest and coat of arms. 

She runs her fingers over the wax, feeling the small indentations of the different charges on the small shield imprinted there, and Nagnok advises, “That is spelled to only allow Mr. Potter to open the letter.” 

“I’ve no interest in reading a private letter addressed to my student,” McGonagall informs him, setting the letter aside. The second has no name written on the outside, and the wax seal on the back on this one is red and broken, indicating it had been opened before. She assumes by Albus, and she opens it and pulls out a folded parchment, surprised to find it completely blank. “Is there nothing written in this one?”

“As you can see, it is blank, but we were instructed to include it unaltered with the other letter and will. Albus Dumbledore also did not know what to do with it.” Nagnok grinned, amused, and McGonagall had a feeling that he took enjoyment at their befuddlement. There was likely a spell of some sort that only the guardian, or guardians, James and Lily had wanted for their son would know how to surpass. 

She put the blank parchment away, setting it aside with Harry’s letter, and turning at last to the will itself. The topmost page was clearly the bank’s, providing information on when the will was last altered, when it went into effect, the date it was first accessed, and a blank spot at the bottom denoting when will was fully carried out. As she set the page aside, magically adding today’s date as the last time the will was accessed. 

The details too small to see on the wax seal without much closer inspection were now enlarged and clearly visible. The next page had the full coat of arms and crest in all its magicked glory at the top of the page, before the official writing announcing the document to be the last will and testament of James Potter and Lily Jade Potter nee Evans. The shield of the coat of arms is black, with one large green chevron and three gold chevronelles. At the bottom is an open, azure book with black script that appears briefly, only to disappear again. The coat is charged with three red stags in the right corner, and two grapevines with a wheatsheaf, all three tawny in color, in the left corner. Above the shield, a stag with a caduceus makes up the crest, standing on a wreath of black, green, and gold, with a banner over it with the family motto in Latin. Briefly, she thinks she sees a hint of silver on the edges but the outline of the shield is black, and the lions on either side are gold with a red sash. She’s confident that the lions, considering their colors, are meant to represent Gryffindor, and she smiles. James had once mentioned, while Lily was pregnant, that he was sure to give McGonagall another Gryffindor to look after as all his family had been Gryffindors. She wishes she could tell him he’d been right.

She moves on, not wanting to dwell on things she could not change, and begins to skim through the documents. The will isn’t particularly long, so much as it is filled with legal jargon that makes it tedious to read. Ultimately, it outlines what items constitute the Potter estate, with related legal documents where necessary included with the will. Among such items was a London property that dated back to the 1600s, the cottage in Godric’s Hollow which was an ancestral home older than the London property, and the Gringotts vault, and the two deeds and Gringotts contract for each. There was also a small list of family heirlooms, with equal parts valuable and sentimental items, with a note as to whether it should be found at one of the properties or within the vault. 

All of this McGonagall skims over, until she finally reaches the section she’s been looking for, which states that should James and Lily pass before Harry was of age, guardianship is to be passed on to his godfather, Sirius Black III. In the event that he is unable to carry out his duties, Harry is to be given into the care of Frank C.J. Longbottom and Alice Longbottom, or Remus John Lupin. There is not a single mention of Lily’s sister anywhere to be found. 

Then there is a section regarding the funds in the vault. Once Harry’s old enough to go to Hogwarts, he’s allowed access to the vault directly, but until such time his key and the funds were to be overseen by his guardian. In that, Dumbledore had been adhering to the will, since he’d had the key, and it probably had been best to not give it to the Dursleys. McGonagall cannot imagine the Muggle pair coming to Diagon Alley to stand face-to-face with goblins, but stranger things had been known to happen in the pursuit of wealth. Granted, as she continues reading and notes that in order to protect Harry’s interests, funds removed from the Potter vault by anyone other than Harry would require an annual accounting to verify its use was in regards to needs directly associated with raising Harry, with a generous allowance to accommodate additional expenditures not directly related to Harry, but likely intended in the case of Harry going to one of his parents’ bachelor friends who might not be able to work as much if they were single-handedly raising a child.

“I have some questions,” McGonagall finally says to the goblin, who has been looking over papers and now looks up at her. “At the time of their deaths, all of the people noted here as possible guardians for Harry Potter would have been perfectly capable of carrying out those duties and being notified. Why, then, was Mr. Potter’s physical guardianship passed on to relatives not provided in the will, and magical guardianship given to Albus?”

“That would be the doing of your Ministry of Magic,” Nagnok informs her, the tone and sneer on his face making it clear how he feels about their interference. “Emergency provisions were put into place to allow for government intervention in the carrying out of wills and guardianship where they felt it best served the safety of the wizarding community, the Statute of Security, and-or the individual or individuals involved.” He’s clearly reciting the mandate from memory. “This was to be effective for two years starting October of the year one thousand nine hundred and eighty-one. It was extended an additional six years, and finally expired just prior to the current Minister of Magic taking office. Instead, it was decided that the provision would only continue to apply to Mr. Potter due to the extraneous circumstances, and there was no interest in challenging it.”

Of course there hadn’t been; the boy’s Muggle relatives were oblivious to the fact that he’d inherited a fortune, or that there had been a will at all left behind. McGonagall had a feeling that, had they known guardianship had been meant for others, they might have jumped at the chance to pass Harry off. It annoyed her to think that Albus had used his influence as such, and prevented Harry from going where he might have been wanted.

He could argue, for instance, that by doing so he had saved Harry from falling into the hands of his godfather, Sirius. However, Frank and Alice Longbottom had been perfectly capable at the time of taking in Harry. And with a child of their own the same age, Harry would have had at least a few happy years before the Longbottoms were captured and tortured by rogue Death Eaters fleeing the law, still trying to locate their defeated leader.Harry then would have likely stayed under the care of the formidable Augusta Longbottom, who was no doubt a strict woman, but one who would have done a much better job at raising Harry than his Muggle relations had done. 

Remus Lupin is the only one listed who might still take guardianship, but that as far as she knows lest Dumbledore failed to mention, the man has never reached out regarding Harry either. She could guess why, and thought it likely that even if he had known about being a possible guardian for Harry, he would have relinquished said guardianship to Dumbledore easily. But he is the boy’s only connection to his parents left, and she wonders if she can convince him to take up the mantle his friends had intended for him.

Moving back to the list of heirlooms, she taps a finger at the symbols indicating their locations. “The items listed as being in the Potter vault, of course, I’m sure are present and accounted for; this is Gringotts, after all.” It isn’t mere flattery; McGonagall is certain that if anything had been removed from the vault at any point after the will’s creation, they’d have noted as much. Their records were always meticulously kept. “Would it be possible to get verification that the items that should be here or at Godric’s Hollow are where they should be?”

“For a fee, we could provide services to do just that,” Nagnok advises. “However, bear in mind that Godric’s Hollow was for a time cordoned off by the Ministry as they dealt with the...aftermath of the Dark Lord’s attack.”

She recalls. “Then they let reporters and tourists visit, like it was an attraction instead of the site of a tragedy.” She sighs, still annoyed by it. “Are you saying it’s possible the Ministry, or some other party, removed items from the cottage?”

“Thieves and looters are not uncommon, even today, but especially in times of war.” 

Quickly and efficiently, she begins to gather everything altogether. “I presume I will be able to take this with me, in order to review its contents with Mr. Potter?”

“Fine.” Grumbling, Nagnok reaches out to take the Gringotts page, grabs a quill to sign it, and then passes both the page and the quill to the witch to do the same, as there is now a new record indicating that the will is being removed from the Gringotts property by Harry Potter’s acting guardian. “Please note we have a copy of the main will, and should there be any attempt to destroy or alter these pages, our records will be adjusted accordingly. We highly recommend, once Mr. Potter has seen the contents, that the will be returned here for safekeeping until he is of age.”

McGonagall nods in understanding, says she will be in contact in regards to contracting their services to verify the heirlooms not currently at Gringotts, and soon after is walking back outside. It’s perhaps been an hour since she arrived, maybe a little more, but foot traffic on Diagon Alley has already begun to pick up significantly. Nevertheless, she simply stands there for a moment, gathering her thoughts, trying to decide what to do next.

She can go back to Hogwarts, will in hand, and give everything to Harry. She would have to explain what the will says, certain that the will itself will be difficult for an eleven-year old boy to read and comprehend himself, but he would have it. He would know. There have already been so many secrets kept from him, she’s loath to continue the tradition, but she also does not want to do anything that might hurt the boy. What if Remus does, in fact, prefer to relinquish his rights as guardian? What if the London property is no longer habitable? What if he asks to go see the cottage in Godric’s Hollow? What if there’s something in that letter, written just for him, that prompts questions she can’t answer? Or an heirloom that they can’t locate? 

“Enough of that,” she scolds herself. She is worried about scenarios that may not happen, and as a former Gryffindor and the current Head, even if the worse were to happen, she would face those challenges as she always did: directly and without hesitation. 

The most important task to tackle was attempting to locate Remus Lupin, wherever he might be. She could ask the headmaster, who she suspects has kept a running tally on the whereabouts of all the living former members of the Order not currently working at Hogwarts, but she thinks she’ll leave that as a last resort. She has her own connections in London; friends, former students, or the parents of ones, with whom she might be able to find something out. Particularly those who had been familiar with James Potter and his group of friends during their time at Hogwarts. McGonagall thinks it would be ideal to speak with him face-to-face, but if she’s unable to do so, then the next option would be to try to write to him and hope that he can be found by owl. If that fails, and only if that fails, she will turn to Albus for assistance.

~~~

WHEN she has returned to Hogwarts, it is shortly before dinner. She is tired, frustrated that she’d managed to find three students who’d gone to school with James and Lily, two of whom had been Gryffindors, and yet none knew anything about Remus Lupin. The man, for all his friendliness and general good nature, had kept few friends during his time at school, and of those, none had made it out of the war alive except the one responsible for the others’ deaths. She would have to write to him, which meant deciding how much to put in a letter versus waiting until she could speak to him. McGonagall doesn’t want to admonish him for his lack of interest in Harry to this point, no doubt believing as she had that he’d been well in hand under Dumbledore’s care. However, she does want to impart on him the gravity of the boy’s upbringing, and that he was likely the boy’s best hope of getting away from the Dursleys. He was the last person named in the will, so without him, next of kin took precedence. 

If only James hadn’t been an only child.

Then there had been the added frustration of realizing, upon a second look, that there was no address in the will or the deed itself for the London property. She would have to submit an inquiry to the Ministry of Magic, but considering the state of things before their deaths, she wonders if perhaps the London home was also put under the Fidelis Charm. Without that secret keeper, forget finding the place herself, how would they be able to send someone to confirm the heirlooms that should be there?

“Hello, Professor.”

“Good evening.” She looks over at the student moving past her in the hall, notes it’s one of her Gryffindors, and says, “Ms. Spinnet, if you can locate Mr. Potter, please have him come to my office.” 

The girl answers in the affirmative before she runs off to do as requested, and McGonagall heads to her office. She’s decided; she will tell him that she has the will, but wishes to look into a few things before sharing it with him. Hopefully his trust in her will extend into believing her when she says she thinks it’s for the best. 

She’s a few lines into her letter when there is a knock on her door. McGonagall is only mildly surprised when the one who comes in is not the student she’s waiting on, but the Potions Master. “Severus--” She’s only just started to greet him as he’s closing the door, when there’s more knocking a small, messy-haired head peers in around the still open door.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Yes. Do come in, Harry. Have a seat.” She motions at the chair across from her, and Snape opens the door further to let him in. The Potion Master then looks back, raising an eyebrow at his colleague who nods for him to stay. She watches him close the door but remaining close to it, as if to ensure no intruder will come in.

“Is this about my parents’ will?” Harry asks.

“Yes. I was able to obtain their will from Gringotts, however there are some things I’d like to look into, now that I’m privy to its contents. I’d like you to wait until then for me to share it with you, all right?” She has set the quill down to one side, letter momentarily forgotten as she clasps her hands together on top of her desk.

Harry is quiet, considering. “How long will that take?” he asks after a few moments.

“Hopefully not long,” she tells him, but admits, “But I don’t know exactly. It may be a few days, or a few months.” She meets his gaze steadily. “I do promise that, one way or another, you will know before the school year ends.”

Silence again for a beat, then another, before he nods his head in agreement. “Okay.” 

“Thank you. Now go on, dinner should be starting soon.”

She sends him off with a smile, after which Severus comes over to take the seat he has vacated. “These things you would like to look into; anything I might assist you with?” 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Remus Lupin is nowadays, would you?” She knows the answer, even before Snape’s lip curls in disdain and he scoffs, answering in the negative. It had been highly unlikely, she’d known that, but it was worth a shot anyway. “Well, he is the only one left in the will named as a possible guardian who could possibly take the role.” Severus’s raised eyebrow and incredulous look perfectly convey how he feels about that, but she continues anyway, “If he declines, then it would go to next of kin and Harry remains with the Dursleys. 

Snape sighs. “I assume you are going to try to write him?” She nods, and he continues, “I suppose I could reach out to some acquaintances of mine that may be able to locate him, just in case.”

She nods her head, grateful. “Thank you.”

“Is that the only matter?”

“Unfortunately, no. Before they went into hiding, the Potters were living in London. I’ll be sending an inquiry to the Ministry to see if there are records as to where, but as the address is missing from the deed itself, I suspect it may not be so easy.” She reaches into her desk, where she has stowed the will for the moment, and pulls out the blank envelope. “I suspect this might have additional answers, but as its magicked, I’ve no way of reading it.”

“May I?” McGonagall passes it over and Snape looks it over before pulling out the blank parchment.

“According to the goblin at Gringotts, Albus was equally befuddled by this blank letter, so it’s probably safe to assume that it’s not a simple matter of invisible ink or the like.” 

Snape nods his head in agreement, passing it back once he has replaced the parchment in the envelope. “I’ll look into what spell may have been used, and whether there’s a potion that might negate it.”

“That would be helpful,” McGonagall agrees, putting the envelope back in her desk. “Otherwise, we can only hope that Remus may have the answer. Other than him, the only one who might help is--”

“Black,” Snape finishes.

“Precisely. And I don’t fancy a visit to Azkaban, though I doubt he’d be keen to be of assistance.”

“Assuming, of course, that his sanity is still intact.”

“Excellent point.” Ten years surrounded by dementors. McGonagall shudders at the thought, and despite his crimes, she pities the man who’d once been her student and James Potter’s best friend.

Story Notes:

Chapter title is a John Lennon song. Hopefully, this chapter doesn't disappoint.

And look, I have no idea what the “J” in Lily’s name actually stands for, so I went with Jade for the obvious connection to her eyes. I didn’t want to put too much thought into it, lol.

For my own edification, and because I couldn’t actually find an answer to this, does anyone know at what point it was no longer required for the heir who inherited the family crest/coat of arms to change it in England? If anyone knows, or has better research skills and can actually find the answer to that, please let me know ‘cause I’m curious. I frankly spent way, WAY too much time looking up information on heraldry, especially considering what a small part the Potter crest I created plays in this and the artistic liberties I took with it anyway, hahaha.

In canon, Harry’s family has no known family motto or crest, which is not impossible but Linfred (the oldest family member we know of) made enough of a reputation for himself that he was able to leave a “significant gold pile” to each of his SEVEN children, laying the foundation for the Potter fortune; and his work was influential enough that some of his remedies/potions were the precursors for stuff in modern use (Skele-Gro and Pepperup are specifically named). Plus, his eldest went on to marry THE granddaughter of Ignotus Peverell, one of the brothers who inspired the Tale of the Three Brothers. Their names were lost to history, sure, but considering there’s a story about them, it means they would have been influential/famous enough in their own time to have warranted that kind of attention. His granddaughter would not be so far removed from his time to not warrant respect due her station, and a marriage to match, considering the attitudes of the time (assuming witches/wizard society was classist, which I think they would’ve been considering current attitudes in canon).

Anyway, I’ll stop rambling now.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Bloodstone | Part 7

Summary: You knew all about the ring your grandmother had told you about and yet when the stone fell from it one fateful day, you weren’t truly prepared for its return, nor who it came back with.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

Genre: fantasy / romance

Warnings: bit angsty in this part

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

You hadn’t been one to believe in the stone’s love story but when Namjoon’s lips met yours, you definitely felt something between you. It was a current so strong that whenever you weren’t connected to him in some way, you felt lonely and cold. He was the source to your warmth and your smiles now.

You knew what you were feeling wasn’t realistic. There were age-old powers at play here. The stone had hooked you both together and you could understand Eliza a whole lot more now. Even if you didn’t want to look at Namjoon, you found that’s all you did.

However, Namjoon was still puzzled by your ancestor’s response to his father. Glancing up at you and smiling gratefully at the tea you handed him, Namjoon then sighed. “I don’t understand. Given how magical this feels for us, how could Eliza do such a thing to my father?”

He had been reading the journal most days now that you were certain the pages would disintegrate from all the turning back and forth he was doing. Reaching out for the journal after sitting down beside Namjoon, you placed it on the couch before taking his hand and linking your fingers with his. “Maybe what they felt was different.”

“She speaks of how strong the feelings were. I doubt she was underwhelmed by him in any way.”

“I’m certain ours is more than just the stone,” you offered and watched his perturbed frown curl up into a slow smile. You grinned and leaned over to kiss one of his dimples. “For one, Eliza wasn’t as lucky as I am to see your dimples every time you smile.”

“My father didn’t have them,” he agreed, turning to brush his lips over your forehead tenderly. “But you’re right. I’m sure my father thought she was rather fetching but to me, you’re…”

“I’m…?” you prompted cheekily when he trailed off, now drowning in your gaze for the umpteenth time. It made you giddy whenever Namjoon looked at you as if the whole world was visible within your eyes.

“You’re breathtaking,” he whispered and abandoned the mug of tea to the coffee table before pulling you into another mind-blowing embrace.

Maybe Eliza gave his father up because she was worried one more make-out session would end her. You certainly wondered the same each time Namjoon captured your lips and reached out for your soul. Each time you arrived at Nirvana quicker and decided if this was the end, it was a beautiful way to go.

Thankfully, just when it felt like you couldn’t take anymore, Namjoon pulled away, breathing heavily. “Enchantress.”

“You kissed me first,” you pointed out and Namjoon grinned.

“I still stand by this apartment, as you call it, being magical. It seems when we’re alone together all I want to do is be wrapped up with you.”

“Shall we go get some fresh air?” you proposed, nuzzling him with your nose when he tickled your skin with his staggered breath. “We could go and see Yoongi at his comic store. I’m sure he’ll have some new information for us as well.”

Namjoon seemed reluctant initially but the prospect of further knowledge on the stone and your situation did intrigue him enough to clamber to his feet, pulling you up with him. You mentioned to him that you’d just get changed and darted down to the bedroom, stopping in front of the photograph on the wall of your mother and grandmother. You beamed at them both as you fingered the glass pane that kept you from touching the photo beneath it.

“I’m not sure what you meant by challenging every part of me, but I’m grateful you entrusted me with the bloodstone, Grandmother.”

“So this is a comic store?”

Smiling at Namjoon as you led him inside Yoongi’s store, you nodded. “Pretty neat huh?”

“I’m not sure what to think of it.”

“I think this place is wonderful. A nice retreat from the world outside these walls at times,” you mentioned, waving at Yoongi when he stepped into the front of the store, pushing his glasses back up his nose before sighing.

“Nice of you to visit finally, Y/N. Normally you’re retreating here every day. Thirteen days away is rather impressive.”

You flushed with colour, glancing at Namjoon before stepping over to your best friend. “I’ve been otherwise engaged.”

“I’m sure you have. The stone will have infiltrated all of your measly sensory system by now.”

Namjoon stepped forward protectively when he sensed Yoongi’s sour expression. Placating him with a shake of your hands, you then rolled your eyes at your longest friend.

“Don’t be salty.”

“Why should I be salty? You’re the one falling into your own grave.”

You recoiled with his sentence, narrowing your eyes on Yoongi. “Grave? What are you-”

“I’ve found some more hidden gems in those books of yours. Come out the back, you definitely need to know what you’re getting yourself in to.”

Yoongi wasn’t Namjoon’s favourite human to be in the company of. He was prickly at best, and whilst you seemed unphased by his tone changes, Namjoon wondered how you could be close friends with someone like him. Perhaps, since he saw Yoongi’s feelings as a problem in your current predicament that didn’t exactly make Namjoon thrilled to be in his company anyway.

However, when Yoongi took you behind the counter of his store and motioned that he stay behind, it bothered Namjoon more than he liked to admit. He eyed the rows of colourful book fronts with distaste, kicking his feet up across the floor immaturely.

You weren’t gone for long, and when you rushed out from behind the counter and grabbed onto his hand, you felt like ice.

“Are you okay?”

“Yoongi, I’ll talk to you later, okay?!” you called whilst you dragged Namjoon outside, walking as fast as you could down the sidewalk away from the store.

Staring at the side of your head, Namjoon watched as you battled with inner turmoil, gradually smoothing your expression over, your steps slowing with this effort also. When you were some distance from the store, you began to smile and finally glanced up at him.

“There’s a park nearby, do you want to go for a walk with me?”

“Will that calm you down?” You nodded immediately and Namjoon smiled gently. “Then yes, I would love to go for a walk with you.”

It was mostly silent aside from a few remarks at the flowers in bloom. Namjoon, however, cared nothing for the flora around you both and wished to know what was going on in your head. You had barricaded yourself mentally, and even the stone couldn’t help him connect with your inner desires right now. It left Namjoon concerned for your reaction. Why weren’t you telling him of what was discovered today?

He had considered perhaps you had fought with Yoongi and that was why you weren’t talking about it. However, with the stolen glances in his direction that he caught, he could tell the anguish you were attempting to mask away from him had nothing to do with Yoongi.

But more with what he said about you both.

Gesturing to a bench under a tree, Namjoon then guided you to sit down beside him. Turning towards you, he clasped both your hands within his and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Do you feel better?”

“Some.” You swallowed and pasted your smile back on your face. “Would you like to come have a picnic with me here tomorrow? I think the weather’s meant to be nice.”

“That sounds-”

“Maybe we could go see a movie too. You know, the television at home shares of them there but at a movie theatre, the screen is the size of an entire wall. And we can eat snacks and snuggle up together and watch something you can’t see on TV yet.”

You continued hastily. “And ice-cream! We should definitely go for ice-cream after the movie. It’s a must. I wonder what your favourite flavour will be? Mine’s vanilla chocolate chip. Yoongi always says how boring I am with having such a basic flavour as my favourite, however…”

Namjoon merely stared at your breakdown when you realised who you had spoken about. Blinking your emotions away rapidly, you tried to salvage that of your positive ideas with a nod of your head. “The nightlife. You haven’t experienced any of that yet!”

“We have time to do it all, Y/N,” Namjoon patiently answered, rubbing circles over your hands. They trembled within his grip. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“No. You’re right. I won’t let you go,” you answered in a clipped tone. He could sense the desperation behind your words and frowned.

“Y/N, what’s going on? What did Yoongi show you?”

“Oh that?” you answered, waving it off and laughing. “It was fiction, just a silly old story he had found. I don’t believe in it at all.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“Me? I’m not upset. I just want to do everything with you.”

“We can do everything together, I promise.”

Staring up at him vulnerably, you then shifted your gaze to the faint glow under his shirt and nodded. “We will, won’t we? Everything will be fine.”

Leaning over to hug you, Namjoon tried to remove the chill from your bones. “I won’t ever leave you, Y/N.”

No matter how long Namjoon held you, it didn’t seem enough to convince you, however.

_________________

Part 8

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[BTS Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[devourer--of--books]

tagatha dating simulator au

- It’s sunday night and local college student, Agatha, hasn’t sleep in two days, practically glued to her chair at the library, trying to absorb the maximum of information she possibly could before finals on monday morning.

- Sitting across from her is her roommate and best friend, Sophie, who doesn’t seem nearly as concerned, playing a game on her phone. Mostly because she already failed half of her courses and is considering dropping out of college to pursue a modeling career, why try at this point-

- Agatha appreciates that Sophie is keeping her company, she really does, but even if her friend was using headphones, Agatha can still hear the background music and the voice actors very clearly. That on its own was distracting enough, but it was always the same lines, with the background music looping as Sophie restarted the game prologue over and over again.

- Around the fifth time she hears the app-staring-exclamation ‘milady!’ her eye starts twitching.

- By the twelfth she slams her book shut, earning herself a glare from all the remaining students in the library.

- “How terrible do you have to be at a game to not be able to get through the prologue?” she whisper-shouts, taking the sit beside Sophie, looking at the screen.

- “That’s not the problem,” her friend defends, proceeding to explain the game.

- Trial by Tale is a recently released dating simulator that has managed to gather a cult-like following. The game was praised for its diverse range of LIs, well-written routes, stellar voice acting, high-quality art style and a beautiful soundtrack. It was apparently highly addicting as well, as Agatha had never seen Sophie be that invested in... any game... like, ever.

- Basically, the main character was transported inside a fairytale-fantasy-like world, where they were introduced as a ‘reader’ to compete in the ‘trial by tale’, a inter-worldly tournament, set up by a mysterious entity (a magical pen known as ‘the storian’), in which the winner would be granted an unconditional wish.

- “Original,” Agatha snorts.

- “Can you just shut up and listen?”

- During the prologue, the main character meets most of the main LIs and according to the player’s decisions, the game would put them into a specific route, based on affection levels with each datatable character.

- There were about thirty bad endings for the casual route (where the player either made stupid choices or didn’t gather enough affection with any LI), ranging from mildly sad to terribly gory. Then, each route had five early bad endings, that could happen during the trial, resulting in the main character’s death. 

- If the player managed to win the tournament with the LI, bargaining with the storian for the survival of two competitors, then two new endings would be unlocked: a normal ending, in which the reader would wish to go home and a happy ending, in which the reader wished to remain forever in the fairytale world living happily ever after with their partner.

- “And that’s where it gets weird,” Sophie pauses, opening up the Trial By Tale wiki page. “Every single LI has a walkthrough and seven possible endings.”

- She shows Agatha a bunch of characters, offering some commentary on their personalities and backstories. Then, she pauses at the last. "All but one." The character is the prettiest, if not a bit too perfect. ‘Tedros of Camelot’, it says on the top of his page, his basic info and biography listed to the side, but it’s full of gaps, blanks and ‘???’s. It was mentioned that he was a dateable character, yet no  walkthrough was provided.

- “Why doesn’t it say anything? Has he not been released?”

- “No one has managed to get his route so far, but according to the game developers, it’s possible. We don’t even know what his voice sounds like.”

- “And you think you will because…?”

- “I’m me. I’m getting Tedros’ route even if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”

- Agatha decides to leave her be, going back to the books, while asking for her to at least lower the volume.

- An hour or so goes by until Sophie grows hungry and decides to leave the library, going back to the dorm. After that, Agatha finally manages to concentrate, and time goes by in a flash.

- In fact, it passes so quickly that she’s not even sure what time it was. When did everyone leave?

- Her phone is dead and the clock on the wall is frozen at midnight. Probably broken, Agatha decides. It couldn’t be midnight, the lights were still on, the library closed at 10:30pm sharp and no one came to kick her out. She was tired, but she wasn’t deaf. She calls for the librarian.

- All the lights turn off at once. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t freak her out a bit.

- Then, she notices a blue glow from under the table. Please don’t let it be a demon.

- It’s a smartphone, with a bedazzled case, a loading blue screen emitting the light. Trial By Tale’s soundtrack starts to play and soon enough the words appear. Touch anywhere to start. That was Sophie’s phone. Which would be fine and normal and okay if Agatha wasn’t pretty sure Sophie left with it. 

- The music starts to loop, and Agatha uses the light to guide her to the entrance, only to find it locked. Every other exit was blocked as well. Ha. Funny.

- Eventually, she surrenders, clicking on the screen, trying to close the app. The last thing she hears is ‘milady!’ and everything turns black as she feels the floor disappear from under her feet, her consciousness fading as she fell into an abyss of darkness.

- She wakes up lying on grass, near a gate, the words Trial By Tale engraved on top of it.

- She pinches herself, feeling it sting as she stared at the gate, pinching harder and harder to the point she nearly screamed in pain. The gate was still there. Agatha focus on her senses. She’s never able to smell things on her dreams.

- This place smells like dirt, pines, dried blood and iron. 

- It’s a dream, she tries to convince herself. Very vivid dream, but it’s a dream.

- A bunch of floating text appears in front of her: Welcome, competitors!

- The storian tells Agatha everything Sophie already told her: it’s a tournament, in which 40 teens from different fairytale kingdoms, including the reader world, must compete amongst themselves for survival during 24 hours. You could pair up with someone, forming an alliance, but there could only be one winner. Then, the world froze, turning black and white, three options appearing in thin air:

A: I’m a boy 

B: I’m a girl 

C: I’m neither/both/something else.

- Agatha experiments. The text didn’t respond to her voice or gestures; she had to touch it. B. They disappeared up in smoke, being replaced by a new choice:

A: climb over the gate early 

B: go in as soon as the gong goes off

C: run into the woods

- All of those sound horrible, she’ll hang around here, thank you very much.

- Agatha decides to pick B, because it sounded the least likely to get her killed. Tapping the option, color returns and more texts appears, telling her the rest of the rules. Apparently, all forms of magic and weapons were allowed, as it was a tournament to the death.

- Well, she had neither a weapon nor any magic, geez, things were certainly looking up.

- A gong can be heard and Agatha waits for her legs to magically move according to her choice. 

- They don’t.

- She debates on staying put for a few minutes, maybe way too many, but then she remembers: casual route endings vary from mildly sad to terribly gory. Agatha doesn’t wanna find out which one she’d get by sticking around.

- Her future now depends on her romancing one of these pieces of code. Thankfully, it was just a dream, right?

- Inside the arena (?), she gets some other choices, which Agatha uses to her advantage, trying to figure out which LI she was going for and how to win them over.

- Hort, according to her friend, was the easiest to please and the most boring of them all. Nicola was efficient and Sophie had managed to unlock her happy ending without a walkthrough. Aric was a psycho, and so was Japeth. Don’t pick Rhian, her friend had warned. Anadil was a hard one to guess without the walkthough, Hester was super hot and Agatha’s type but that could go very wrong (clearly her type wasn’t working out, as she was painfully single) and-

- Is that Japeth or Rhian? She can’t tell, but he’s coming her way.

A: introduce yourself

B: try to kill him

C: hide behind the rock

- She chooses C, but climbs a tree instead, because he surely would be able to see her behind the rock, was he blind or something?

- “You sure are taking your time choosing,” a voice whispers from the branch above her, nearly giving her a heart attack, “...first time player maybe? Or just dumb?”

- Tedros, the mysterious character, was looking down at her, resting on a higher branch. 

- Agatha glares at him before blurting: “You’re shorter than you look on your CG.”

- He chokes. “You can hear me?” 

- “Why are you british?” she notices the accent, given how different it sounded from all the other voice actors. 

- “I’m bi,” he frowns at her in offended confusion.

- (The himbo energy in this bus is astronomical.)

- They bicker a bit and Japeth grows suspicious of the hushed conversation, nearing the tree. Tedros asks for her help taking him down. Agatha is like, sure, whatever at this point, just trying to forget that Tedros broke the fourth wall. It’s a dream, don’t overthink too much.

- She distracts Japeth, and Tedros tries to ambush him, but it backfires horribly, resulting in Tedros now being a few seconds away from dying a very very painful death.

A: run away

B: ally yourself with Japeth

- Agatha hesitates over option A, convincing herself that Tedros wasn’t a real person. He was a just a character in a game. But while the entire world is black and white waiting for her answer, she swears his eyes remain icy blue. 

- Trick of the light?

- She presses A but throws herself towards Japeth, colliding with him. Agatha ends up being stabbed in the arm, but otherwise fine, which is more than Japeth can say, as he fell into a conveniently located black hole. That hurt like a bitch, how is this a dream?

- Tedros is shook.

- “What did you do? How did you even-” he eyes the blood in her arm. “You’re bleeding!” Tedros rips his shirt to wrap it around the wound, and Agatha does her best not to stare at him while he tends to the wound.

- A blue ribbon in the sky tells Agatha she is now on Tedros’ route. A ribbon they can both read.

- “That’s… troublesome.”

- “What, is your route cursed or something?”

- “...”

- “It’s totally cursed, isn’t it?”

- They argue a bunch and Agatha tries to ditch him but ends up almost dying twice. Tedros saves her, and insists that since he accidentally gave her his route, he’ll help her stay alive for as long as he can. 

- Together they figure out that Agatha’s ability to disobey the game choices might be able to uncurse his route, hopefully sending her home by the end and resetting the game as it was meant to be, allowing people play his route.

- Agatha is pretty sure Tedros is not telling her something, but she kinda does owns him her life now (“2x1, sucks to suck, reader.”) and he offered to share some of his food and hiding spot with her. Doesn’t hurt that he clearly knew how to fight and had a big sword, while Agatha had.... free will and nothing else apparently???

- They end up talking over fruits and water (we love a healthy king) in a cave and Agatha finds out basically every other character’s backstory, learning a ton about the context of these trials as well as what the game felt like for the characters.

- According to Tedros, every other character was doomed to repeat the same route and actions following the reader’s choices, only to lose all memories by the end, as the game reseted. They were all blissfully ignorant of the fact that this was, in fact, a dating simulator. All of them but Tedros. When Agatha asks him why, he closes off:

- “Every single character has a core wish they want fulfilled. It can be the same wish every time, or it can change once your route resets. My original wish contradicted the memory reset, so no one has been able to play my route at all. And if no one plays, I can’t reset. If you go home and the game resets, I’ll make a different wish and my route should be fixed for good.”

- Agatha doesn’t ask what he wished for and he doesn’t tell her either; it feels like way too personal of a question for strangers eating berries in a cave.

- She does ask him what his new wish will be, though.

 - “I’ll restore my kingdom back to its former glory,” he starts, a certain sadness in his eyes. “They deserve a prince who doesn’t waste time wishing for-” Tedros interrupts himself, telling her about his kingdom instead.

- Agatha knows he’s related to King Arthur due to his name on the Trial By Tale wiki, but she’s surprised that he actually gives her that info willingly. He is indeed the prince of Camelot, but his mother abandoned the palace when he was nine and then his father died a few years later, sending the kingdom into despair and disgrace. 

- (“That’s rough, buddy.”)

- To lighten the mood, she decides to tell him about ‘the reader world’. 

- “To exist in your world might be something then,” he smiles, “I mean, beats hanging around here. You said you have a machine that can play music anytime you want?”

 - Tedros is fascinated with everything and asks her about all sorts of stuff, like about politics, lgbtqa+ rights, tik tok, food, the economy, school and fashion trends. Also, memes, lots of memes.

- They spend like 8 hours straight hidden in a cave, just talking, bickering and actually having a lot of fun. The lack of choices even makes her forget she was still in a game.

- Tedros notices how tired she looks and offers to keep watch while she sleeps.

A: say no as a joke

B: outright refuse

- Agatha taps A.

- “Sure, do you mind if I lean on you though?”

- Is this like a date or are we like doing my route and you’re sleeping on my arm platonically? Tedros is shook, part 2.

- Agatha tries not to fall asleep, but she does take a nap, leaning on his shoulder. Surprisingly enough, an hour later she’s still alive, but her head was now on his lap and he was petting her hair.

- “Hi.”

- “Hi.”

A: get up

B: kiss him

- She doesn’t wanna get up, but she doesn’t really feel like kissing him would be appropriate for the moment. She presses B, yet remains still for next few minutes. Tedros looks a bit disappointed, as if he was waiting for her.

- “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

- “Do you want me to?”

- He doesn’t reply immediately, running his fingers through her hair. “Everyone wants to kiss me. I’m hot, I’m a prince and I’m rich.”

- “You’re gonna need to do better than that to get me to kiss you,” Agatha tells him. “If we survive this I’ll kiss you once, just before we unlock your normal ending and I go home. For a CG.”

- “But then I won’t remember it at all.”

- The comment makes her nervous. Once this is over and Tedros gets his route unlocked, he’s gonna be just another character. He’ll say things like that to everyone. Agatha has to chastise herself for growing attached to a video game character. He’s not real. He wasn’t yours to begin with, you’ve known him for less than a day. Get a grip.

- They stay in silence until another gong goes off, the storian’s text showing up in the air: “12 hours left. Only 10 competitors remain.”

A: stay in the cave

B: leave

- Agatha chooses B and they head out of the cave to see who else was alive, just in time to not be crushed under heavy rocks. Strangely they don’t bump into anyone. What they do run into, though, is a bunch of traps and creatures meant to randomly eliminate competitors. Great.

- Somehow, Agatha always chooses the right option and alters her actions just enough to save them at the last minute. Is she a pro-gamer? One can only marvel at how lucky she’s been getting in this game. No, but like, really, is she? Tedros is impressed.

- At the 6 hour mark, there’s 4 people left, including the two of them. He’s been eyeing Agatha weirdly and she doesn’t know what to think of it because she liked hanging out with him, but at the same time, he is a piece of code.

- There’s like, a dramatic confrontation with the other two competitors, which turn out to be Aric and Hester, not as a pair, but as individuals, and it ends up working out in Tedros and Agatha’s favor, as those two end up murdering each othe while Tedros and Agatha have the advantage of teamwork. It’s a great action sequence, but if you’ve read this far, I’m pretty sure you’re not here for the action.

- Anyway, the storian appears, but unlike the other routes, instead of giving Agatha the opportunity to bargain for them both to survive, her options are:

A: kill Tedros

B: kill Tedros

- Agatha doesn’t tap either. She stays still, glaring at the pen while the world remained black and white.

- Then, the entire arena starts to shake, the game glitching as Tedros moves, his colors fading in and out, his expression tortured, as if just smiling at her was painful, his eyes glowing unnaturally blue. “Let’s get you home,” he mouths, before stabbing himself with his own sword, falling to the floor as the colors returned for good.

- Agatha couldn’t breathe, kneeling beside him.

- “To meet someone who’d love me for me,” he admits, bleeding out into the ground, a single tear running down his face. “That was my original wish. And then I met you.”

- She kisses him on the lips, and as you know, true love’s kiss breaks every spell, heals every wound and transcends the limits of storytelling.

- Tedros’ chest is slowly healing, but just as he gets stronger, Agatha grows weaker, starting to disappear through his fingers in rays of lights, back to the reader’s world, leaving a lonely prince by himself in a bloody arena with a magical pen.

- “Unconditional wish for the winner, hm?”

- Back at the library, Agatha wakes up with a snap, falling off her chair.

- The clock on the wall reads 10pm and the few students left at the library glare at her. She hurries to gather her things in her arms, going back to her dorm trying to make sense of what just happened. It was all a dream. It had to be because her arm is intact. She has been running on too much caffeine, finals start the next morning, she was stressed, that’s all.

- Sophie is still playing the game once Agatha arrives at the dorm, and as soon as she walks in, her friend tells her the news:

- “See, darling, I told you I’d get Chaddick’s route eventually!”

- Chaddick’s route?

- Agatha doesn’t even reply, going straight to bed, still haunted. That night, she has no dreams of handsome boys in caves, neither does she dream of blue-eyed princes bleeding out.

- Monday afternoon, though, a distracted Agatha is walking back to her dorm after taking her exams, when she bumps into someone, nearly knocking her over. She is about to yell at the stranger when her voice gets caught on her throat.

- “To exist in your world might be something,” the familiar stranger smiles at her, “I mean, I’m Tedros Pendragon, nice to meet you.”

[valuentumbrian]

Bull Market On!

Image Source: Mike Cohen.

By Brian Nelson, CFA

It’s very hard not to be bullish on the stock market these days. The prudence exercised by many of the largest companies in the S&P 500 remains unprecedented, in our view. Some of the best companies out there have tremendous balance sheets, as evidenced by huge net cash positions. Perhaps two of our favorite companies, Microsoft (MSFT) and Facebook (FB) are the best examples of this, but Apple (AAPL) still retains quite the large net cash hoard as it works to net-cash breakeven.

As we look at the next couple years, most investors will continue to focus on the Fed. We’ve seen this song and dance following the Great Financial Crisis (GFC) that wreaked havoc on the markets between 2007-2009. Many believed that the markets would have a Fed-induced crisis that would obliterate stocks after the GFC as they tapered and withdrew stimulus, but the Fed executed flawlessly. The bears seized on a municipal bond crisis, and a European debt crisis, but we still had one of the strongest bull markets in history following the Great Financial Crisis -- a bull market that ran through the onset of the COVID-19 outbreak.

Here we are just 16-18 months after the first case of COVID-19 was announced in the United States, and we are not just at new highs in the stock market--but we’ve already made many of them! The “old school” analysis with respect to drawdowns and withdrawals no longer holds in this hyper-intensive, information-driven economy, in our view, where 3-4 years’ worth of price behavior is experienced in 3-4 months. Those pursuing annual withdrawals in retirement in January, for example, didn’t experience any impact from the market meltdown, as January 2021 saw a market much higher than January 2020, despite the most abrupt fall in market history. Bear markets in the future may be even shorter than the 11.3 month historical average, too. The COVID-19 bear market was just 1.1 months.

We crunched the numbers, and a 60/40 stock/bond indexed and rebalanced portfolio has now trailed active stock selection, as measured by the S&P 500 Sector SPDR (SPY) as the midpoint, by 130 percentage points the past 10 years. The 60/40 stock/bond indexed and rebalanced portfolio failed at what it was supposed to do, too. During the worst of the COVID-19 stock market swoon, the 60/40 stock/bond indexed and rebalanced portfolio saved just 8 percentage points versus a full allocation to the largest U.S. equities. From our perspective, it has become hard to justify the 60/40 stock/bond indexed and rebalanced portfolio given its high correlation to equities, the vast underperformance during lengthy bull markets, and the short duration of bear markets when it comes to periodic withdrawals.

The arguments against active stock selection have vanished, in our view. The vast underperformance of the 60/40 stock/bond portfolio over a 10-year and even 30-year stretch relative to a diversified S&P 500 portfolio may be the biggest reason. Not only has modern portfolio theory (MPT) failed in this respect, but quant finance has also dropped the ball in other areas. The huge underperformance of the small value factor during the past decade has shown that it is a fool’s errand to believe that past performance is prologue. The entire basis of quant research can be readily dismissed by the most common disclaimer in this industry warning about past analysis not being prologue, and yet, many continue to fall for the nonsense. Stay away from quant conclusions until they start factoring forward-looking expectations into their processes.

The best of times with respect to cryptocurrency may very well be behind us as well. The alternative asset market isn’t as strong as it was in the beginning of this year, and Bitcoin (GBTC) and other cryptocurrencies have followed suit. A few cryptocurrencies have even zeroed out, and this is the true risk faced by anybody seeking the merits of modern portfolio theory with a small crypto allocation. An asset must have intrinsic value and go up in the long run for MPT to hold merit, meaning that you need a better model than just mashing historically uncorrelated assets together. The model we use at Valuentum is the discounted cash flow model, or enterprise valuation. We then seek to diversify among the most undervalued assets that have strong market backing via technical and momentum indicators.

Inflation is the talk of Wall Street the past few months, but we’ve seen a pullback in some of the prices that have surged. The housing market remains resilient, but lumber prices have come in quite a bit. The auto industry is working past the semiconductor shortage, and the huge ramp in used car sales may now be behind us. Crude oil and gasoline prices have increased materially, but the abundance of shale oil should keep a tight lid on long-term crude oil price expansion. Unlike OPEC, the U.S. government can’t limit production in a free economy, and the invisible hand will act as the counterbalance to high energy prices in time. We like stocks in an inflationary environment, and we love big cap tech and large cap growth in any environment.

Many are expecting net-cash rich corporates to start funneling some of their huge cash positions into the equity markets, and we don’t think they’ll be getting too complicated with their strategies. Share buybacks will be one avenue that they’ll use to deploy the capital, but many will also seek to allocate capital to the broader S&P 500, in our view. Money market funds have surged as a result of government stimulus since the COVID-19 meltdown (there is over $4.5 trillion just sitting in money market funds according to Bloomberg, more than at the peak of the GFC), and there may be hundreds of billions of dollars ready to enter the stock market in the next 6 months alone. Corporations are cash rich, and bond yields are paltry.

Buying demand for equities could set off a huge advance in stock prices, in our view, and the Fed may be fine with this as they were during the 10-year period following the GFC. We hardly experienced any meaningful inflation after the GFC either, but stock prices soared. In many ways, we’re expecting a replay of the 2010s (last decade) in the 2020s (this decade), and the next 10 years may very well be a replay of the Roarin’ 20s, a theme we have repeated before. We expect advisors and asset allocators to buy equities at almost every market dip, and we believe the Fed will support the markets in the event of even modest price weakness. These are unprecedented times, and that means the Fed will remain vigilant in support of equity prices.

Our favorite ideas remain in the newsletter portfolios, and as we noted before, Alphabet and Facebook have been lights-out with their relative price performance so far in 2021. The Valuentum Buying Index (VBI) has also showed its efficacy of late, with Facebook and Korn Ferry (KFY), two of the top ratings on the VBI, soaring. Facebook was a huge gift a couple years ago (in 2018) when it dipped below $150 per share. The market couldn’t have been more wrong on shares, and the stock has now more than doubled since then, trading north of $340 per share of late. Facebook has registered more 10s on the VBI than any other company in our coverage.

Though the meme-stock frenzy has been annoying and reveals the fragility of market structure as it relates to price-agnostic trading, the bias to the markets remains upward, in our view. Meme stock traders are long, advisors and asset allocators are pumping their clients’ money into the stock market on every dip, the short sellers have their backs against the wall, the Fed and Treasury aren’t going to go away, and more stimulus in the form of an infrastructure bill may serve to pad the bottom line of many in the energy and industrial sectors--the weakest sectors in recent years. The markets could go up for a long time yet, and we remain very bullish.

In the Dividend Growth Newsletter portfolio, we’re adding a 5-7% weight in ExxonMobil (XOM) and a 4-6% weighting in Chevron (CVX). In the Best Ideas Newsletter portfolio, we’re adding a 4-6% weighting in ExxonMobil and a 3-5% weighting in Chevron. We like their respective dividend yields, and the strengthening energy markets have only made their future free cash flow prospects better. See here. These changes will be reflected in the next editions of the newsletters, the July edition of the Dividend Growth Newsletter to be released Thursday, July 1, and the July edition of the Best Ideas Newsletter to be released July 15. Due to the July 4th holiday weekend, the July edition of the Exclusive publication will be released Saturday, July 10.

The Best Ideas Newsletter portfolio >>

The Dividend Growth Newsletter portfolio >>

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It's Here! The Second Edition of Value Trap!

Order today!

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Image Source: Value Trap

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Valuentum members have access to our 16-page stock reports, Valuentum Buying Index ratings, Dividend Cushion ratios, fair value estimates and ranges, dividend reports and more. Not a member? Subscribe today. The first 14 days are free.

Brian Nelson owns shares in SPY, SCHG, QQQ, DIA, VOT, and IWM. Brian Nelson's household owns shares in HON, DIS, HAS. Some of the other securities written about in this article may be included in Valuentum's simulated newsletter portfolios. Contact Valuentum for more information about its editorial policies.

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[ginnyzero]

Does Your Story Suffer from Exposition-itus

Exposition. What is it? What does it do? Exposition according to dictionary.com is a noun and the definitions that concern us are numbers 2, and 3. The act of expounding, setting forth, or explaining. And Writing or speech primarily intended to convey information or explain, a detailed statement or explanation.

Or in author terms. Info-dumping.

It is the opposite of action. Action being the dialog and actions that move your story forward.

Now, not all exposition is bad. In fact, there are going to be places in your book where information is necessary. However, if your exposition outweighs your action, it will slow your story down and turn off readers. Especially, if your exposition is in the beginning of your book. Especially since most exposition is in passive voice. A lot of times, I find exposition to be the author starting the story in their own head and explaining everything up to the point where the inciting incident starts, and then not realizing it’s exposition and not editing it out later.

So, here are 9 symptoms of exposition-itus, a readers perspective and in author terms b/c I also happen to be an author.

1) It reads like a history book.

In fact, it might as well be a history book, as the author has decided to spend so many pages on the historical and cultural facts that have brought us to this point in the story. This can actually be disguised as dialogue, where one character is telling the other character everything they need to know whether or not the reader actually needs to know about it or not. This can include things like background, family history, asking what is going on in the other character’s life, and so on and so forth.

Boring. Yawn. Especially if this happens in the beginning of the book. There is no interaction or action, reaction going on for us to care. These are words for the sake of words and the author needs to edit, figure out when or if this information is actually important to the story and then casually slide it in there.

2) It reads like a character sheet.

This is when the author, instead of relying on their ability to show us character traits, decides to tell us the traits of these characters instead.

In the Lone Prospect, I could tell you “Gideon was a man in his mid-twenties exactly (25), fresh out of a medical discharge from the military and wearing his worn out, too thin, farm clothes from his teens that strained against his adult physique. He loved his mother and didn’t want to worry her, but he and his father weren’t getting along. Thus, leaving Gideon looking for a new place to settle down. He was mildly optimistic about it. Oh. And he was a werewolf, so it made things a tad more complicated.”

Or, I can do what I did, wait until chapter three, have Gideon write a letter to his mother while interacting with a duck and hope I conveyed the same information in a way that doesn’t bore you to tears.

In telling us the ‘traits’ of the character, the author makes it doubly difficult on themselves on top of frustrating the reader. If you tell the reader the character is competent, sarcastic, and reckless, then you have to show it too or risk not having consistency in the book. Instead, know your character traits, keep them close to your chest, and simply have your characters act. That way the reader can determine them for themselves, and character consistency is maintained.

3) It reads like a scene summary.

So, you’re reading along in the story and there in the middle of what could be a good scene of character interaction is a paragraph about how there was character interaction because these are all great friends, really! But instead of showing you, the author instead has decided to tell you.

Which completely ruins the point of the reader figuring out these people are good friends.

Again, in the Lone Prospect, I have a scene I could have summarized. Gideon has just been accepted into the pack after a potluck dinner. This turns into a party. And I could have summarized the party; people having motorcycle races over here, the hand to hand combat spars over there, people dancing to loud techno-metal music over here, what is the pack doing with a military grade drop ship in a hangar? Oh wait. Instead, I turned it into a several page scene where you see this all from Gideon’s point of view and actually interact with people.

4) It reads like a list.

Description. It’s difficult. It’s especially difficult when you aren’t sure how to do it. So, authors will often resort to lists in order to get it out of the way so they can get on with the exciting bits, the story. Without considering how much or if the character their using as a point of view character is going to notice such things, or if the reader is going to care.

Most readers will not care about detailed descriptions of clothes. They just don’t. As a person trained if fashion, this is painful, but I’ve come to terms with it.

A list description reads like this, “Gideon was six foot even with light olive skin, short brown hair growing out of a buzz cut and two days worth of stubble, and golden brown eyes that were best compared to aged whiskey. No one gave a damn if he shaved anymore, so why bother. He wore a too thin white t-shirt straining against his military physical trained muscles, and stone washed jeans that were spattered with bleach spots and worn around the knees. His black combat boots were all he had left of his uniforms, outside a few tailor made dress blues he only got to keep because they were tailored, and a mess of ribbons and awards he didn’t give a damn about. The boots were broken in and comfortable and one of his two pairs of shoes. Thus, why he was wearing them with his jeans.”

There are better ways to work in description. This is boring. In fact, it’s probably not even relevant. I don’t think I’ve mentioned he’s six foot yet. I may have mentioned Savannah is 5’2”. Or just that she comes up to his chin and it amuses him.

5) It reads like the author is telling themselves the story up to this point.

Instead of opening with some type of action or dialogue, the story instead opens with a ramble of words about the location, the history, or the characters, or combination thereof. What I mean is, the author doesn’t jump straight into the scene, they are instead setting the stage a lah ‘it was the best of times, and the worst of times, on a dark and stormy night.’

Maybe you could get away with that a hundred or more years ago. You can’t today.

Get to the point.

(This is especially frustrating when you’ve had a decent straight to the point prologue and a chapter, and then chapter two or three we’re on our third hook and it becomes an author ramble.)

6) Passive voice. Passive Voice. Passive voice.

You might notice in most of the points about, there is a lot of the use of the verb ‘to be.” Or it sounds like a newspaper story where the author is rattling off the facts of the incident.

Usage of the verb ‘to be’ slows the story down. Telling us things. Summarizing things, instead of ‘speeding’ the story up, makes the reader feel like the author thinks we’re stupid and can’t read between the lines. (Yes, it’s better to show AND tell emotions. Like, I said, exposition isn’t always bad.) Or, the author simply doesn’t know how to write. Because why would you skip the fun, and yummy character interaction scenes.

Go through your manuscript. Find the verb to be, kill it without prejudice as much as possible. Look for summarization and flesh it out! Then, figure out if you really need that scene or is it a ‘darling’ and needs to be excised with fire. (Or lovingly saved into a separate document for later. Yes. Yes. My precious.)

7) It’s irrelevant to the story at hand…

Many times, when your story suffers exposition-itus. It’s because the information you’re explaining or giving is simply not relevant to the story right that moment. The reader doesn’t need to know the information to get full enjoyment out of the book. And the information given is more or less to show off their world building or sometimes to simply up the word count.

As an author, I recommend taking all your exposition and creating a world building document called a “bible.” This will put all the world building into one place, get the urge to explain everything out of your system, AND give you the benefit of seeing places your world building might be weak. Then you can while you’re writing be able to put the relevant information into the book as the reader and character needs to know it.

Especially if the character doesn’t know the information yet or can’t know the information.

OR

8) It answers all the questions the reader is asking.

This is where the author feels the need to explain everything. The character is in a new situation. So, there is another character who knows what is going on, but can’t get involved for ‘reasons’ training the character. So, the author tells the character and the reader all the information including motivations and enemy capabilities.

And, well, there is the entire book and mystery ruined.

That is only one scenario mind you.

Your job as an author is to set up questions about the character, and the world, and the situation. The character and the reader go on a journey to answer these questions. These mysteries keep the reader turning pages and buying the next book. If you answer these questions in the prologue, or the first five chapters, then the reader has no reason to keep reading the book.

9) The story isn’t moving forward.

One thing about exposition is it stalls the plot.

Your story is like being in an elevator. The scenes that move the story along are like the elevator moving between floors with the chapters being the elevator stopping and opening the doors to let people on and off. Exposition is the elevator stalling between floors.

You’re hanging there, precariously over a long shaft by wire cables, and the elevator has stopped without any way for you to leave as the soothing and yet aggravating music drones on and on. Eventually, you hope, things start moving again.

And so, when the elevator stops at the next floor, the reader gets off and refuses to get back on. Or if they’re really aggravated, they will figure out how to crawl out the top of the elevator and pry open the doors to get out.

Exposition is the ‘dead spots’ of your story. They’re places where the reader starts skimming hoping to get to the next bit of action or character interaction that is relevant. Exposition kills your tension and makes readers set down your book.

If anything, put exposition near the end of your book, “Dumbledore Explains” style or “Elementary, my dear Watson,” mystery style. By this point, you have your readers so invested into the plot of the story, they’ll be more likely to forgive you a momentary ramble or history lesson.

I know I have exposition at the end of the Lone Prospect about different types of motorcycle clubs. One. This is actually relevant information that given the book is about a motorcycle club, you the reader need to know. And two, I’m not planning on addressing it directly by showing the differences until book five! Three, Gideon needed to know this information as it influences his decision on if he’s going to stay or not.

So, I’m hopeful, as an author, you can forgive me for my ramble about motorcycle clubs in the form of Hunter telling Gideon a story. Well, Hunter and Brand because Brand had to get in on it.

Anyways, here are 9 symptoms of exposition-itus. I hope it helps. Please remember, your action ratio should always outweigh your exposition ratio by a large margin. Be precise and be concise. Especially in the beginning of the book where you’re trying to keep readers reading your story.

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

Shed-Skin

Prologue: Waste Not, Want Not

Her plans haven’t been working out. She’s not entirely sure what happened, but She does know something went wrong. Good thing She’s got another one, and all it involves (for now) is waiting. She’s gotten good at that.

Warnings: Spooky Eldritch Shadow Nightmare Monster Mama being Eldritch (She’s doing Her best), referenced antagonist death, implied unsympathetic!Deceit?, vaguely implied gore, SESNMMama’s interpretation of main character death and grief, I’m trying to cover all my bases but honestly this isn’t that bad I think.

Words: 2658

Violet “Writing so good it gets a fandom wiki and fanfics based off it because not only is the world compelling, the characters believable, and the plot fantastic, they’re a fantastic, lovely, genuinely good person who manages to make everyone feel comforted by their mere presence” inspired me after 2 ½ years without writing. And because I’ve been reading LAOFT since… Brother came out I think? (gosh how has it been that long.) I decided to give in and do something for it. And as I started drafting, Putting Others First came out and gave us more of our Evil Just a Snek Boi and inspired me even more, and then I made up like 3 mental pages of true name lore for reasons that at the time of writing this isn’t /technically/ wrong, but two cakes! This cake just happens to consist purely of ultra-specific hyperfixation lore that I aggressively made to fit with my Plans. I could honestly rant about all my fun facts about this for days, but I’m trying to keep this coherent. (Tolkein I love you, but there is a time and a place for excessive worldbuilding) So if you love to hate The Serpent King, but also really like sympathetic Dee, well… So do I. And so, apparently, does my brain. I don’t know how long it will be, but the answer is going to be “too long”. I already have two chapters properly plotted out.

☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧

Something was Wrong. It was Spring, and it was far too dark. She liked the dark, and the cold, but everything had it’s time, and this was not the time. Her Virgil was awake, and Her town had changed, and Her Durant had a ghost. These were not Wrong. Her Virgil had only recently fallen asleep, being awake was his usual state. Her town was always changing, filled with mortals as it was, even with its ever-growing Presence. Her Durant having a ghost was new and unexpected, especially with the state it was in, but not Wrong. And if it was not Her Virgil, or Her town, or Her Durant, then it was Her. Her Forest was Wrong. And She did not remember Her Name. That was not Wrong, or even new or unexpected, but it was something She noticed, as She felt She had in the past. This was more disconcerting than it should have been though, so much that She nearly missed Her Younger Son dying. Key word being nearly.

That was not Wrong, but it was not Right either. It was the ghost’s fault, who was no longer Her Younger’s. Perhaps the ghost was more Wrong than She had thought. Catching Herself before She missed what was clearly Important, She focused, and there It was, the flickering remains of what She had given to make Her Durant. She pulled it back to Herself, returning the essence of Her Youngest to Its source before It could fade out of this world completely. A distant Part of Herself, the Part that still had a Name, felt like she should feel something… painful? Sadness was the closest match she had felt from Her Virgil, but that was Wrong. The thought that She should be feeling was Wrong too, so as with all that was Wrong She pushed it away, crushing it beneath Her Presence.

Turning Her attention to what She had gathered, She focused inward. It was easy to distinguish from the rest of Herself, with sharp edges and a coiling, scale-smooth surface, like the snake It had used to be part of. She started to Shape It, return It to Herself as It had been before She Made Her Youngest, but It would not stick. It molded Itself into Her shapes, broke and tore like Her Youngest’s body, and reformed together at a thought, as the rest of Her would, but It refused to return to Its original state, as part of Her. Unless… It was not? She had taken part of Herself, and Given it to Her Youngest, the closest she could come to Giving a Name, and She had done that as well. She had Named the parts She had Shaped into Her Youngest, and Her Virgil, and His Sisters. It made sense that They were no longer Her, as She had thought. This sharp, coiling, scaly shadow was not returning because It was already complete. It was what was left of Her Youngest, that She had Given to Him, and as a Gift It was not Hers to Take Back anymore. That… Complicated things.

She remembered Her Virgil telling Her that Her Youngest was Wrong, and She was dimly aware of talking, fretting, and explaining. Explaining what had happened. She was not sure She understood well, but She thought She understood well enough. Her Youngest had caused this Wrongness in her forest, this too dark Spring, or at least Her Virgil believed so. And Virgil was Her Regent. She could not return Her Youngest to the Courts while Virgil still lived, it would cause anger and sadness and more than likely end up in Her having to gather Her Youngest’s Essence again, it would not be worth it. She did not want to get rid of It, that would be a waste. Even waiting for Virgil to die would not be foolproof, though She had clearer knowledge of how Her Son was separated from Her, Virgil was still Like Her and could fade like She had. And even if Virgil did die, Her Youngest had not worked as he had been supposed to the last time. Her Youngest would need a guide, but there were none to be had at the moment, and She could not take that mantle on. So She resolved to put away the issue for the moment and turned Her focus to Her Son, and then to the Mortal, Witch, and Spring that seemed to have captivated Virgil. She examined them, curious as to why exactly they had caught Her Son’s eye. Apparently, however, Her interest caused them fear, so She decided to respect Virgil’s desire to have His Loves left alone. She had enough information now anyway.

One was a mortal. Blessed, but a mortal nonetheless. One was a witch, magical, but ultimately mortal as well. One was a Spring, a powerful one at that, but a green-man. Wild. Her Son was setting Himself up for sadness, yet they brought Him such joy. Every one of them was absolutely priceless to Him. This was Important. She pondered on this, though she kept it to the back of her mind. It seemed She needed to be more present, lest She cause Virgil undue concern. Then, so soon, She sensed joy coming off of Her Son like snowdrifts, and excitement. She did not remember Him ever being so happy, so She paid attention.

It was exhausting, forcing Herself to follow the days and nights alongside the Inhabitants of Her Forest, but soon enough it proved itself worth it as She watched Her Son and His Loves bind themselves together, swearing by Moon and Stars and Sun, and Dark and Light, and Rivers and Fire, and Air and Earth alongside everyone else They called Family. For the first time in centuries She Saw and Heard, instead of sensing, and tiring as it was She undeniably did not remember ever being so happy. She was There for Her Son’s Wedding! Time slipped by Her more than usual after that, but She was still Present, still Aware of when Virgil would speak to Her, and that was far more Important.

Then They began wanting a Child. She could not Feel the others, but Her Son felt Wrong, and as with all that was Wrong She wanted to push it away, to crush it beneath Her Presence, to make the Wrongness Right. Well, that was something She could help with. It had been some time since She had Made someone, but not nearly so long that She could not remember how. She was as gentle as She could be as She took what She needed from each of Them, gathering the pieces not all at once, but slowly. They wanted a Child, so she would make them a Proper Child. Bit by bit She balanced out what would make this new creation Different. On the First Day of Autumn, She was ready. The Child would have no Mothers, so a Name Given by a Grandmother would suffice.

I Name You Linda. You Are the Daughter of Winter, Mortal, Witch, and Spring. You Are a Lynx. You Are a Princess. You Are Autumn, Unseelie, and Fae. Wake.

There is less of a difference between Granddaughter Asleep and Awake than She expected, but the Witch-Hazel is blooming, and She must bring Her Son. It takes Pushing and Pulling, but Her Son goes, and brings Granddaughter to His Loves. She draws back. Everything has been going quickly, and She has not thought about what this, Her Son marrying His Loves, Her Making Granddaughter, means. So though She stays alert, Her focus shifts from Her Son and Granddaughter to Herself, and the issue of the sharp coil that remains safely tucked away. She thinks, and considers, and questions, and finally by the end of it all has a plan. All it involves for now is waiting. She has gotten good at that.

☙❀❧-☙✿❧

The Witch died. She has a new word for a feeling, a name for the unnameable pain: grief. He had sworn on his body of Fire and Earth, and had fulfilled those vows. She does not remember it well, but the first time He met Her, He had tried to hide His fear with boldness and brightness, and kept His Spark until He could keep it no more. It is curious, She thinks, how Important one mortal witch could be. She leaves Her Son and the Mortal and the Spring and Granddaughter to mourn. (It feels Wrong, not being able to truthfully think “His Loves”, but this Wrong cannot be made Right. She can only push it away.)

☙❀❧-☙✿❧

Granddaughter was crying. Time was harder to grasp, but the Witch’s death had been three seasons ago. She was unsure of how long grief kept its hold, but Her Son and His remaining two Loves seemed better. She did not want Granddaughter to cry. Without thinking, She reached out a shadow and prodded at Granddaughter’s mind. An incomprehensible flood of feelings and words poured out, like blood from a wound. She cannot understand, cannot translate what She could do to Right this Wrong, cannot speak, but She tries her best, and sends an old picture, one of Her Son and His Sisters and Linda curled up together in an old hammock. It just makes Granddaughter cry harder. She leaves.

☙❀❧-☙✿❧

    The Mortal is dead. No one is shocked, but that doesn’t seem to make Their grief any less. By the Rivers and Earth of His body he had sworn, and she remembers the rivers He had cried on that day. He tried to stay steady and grounded to counteract the Air in his Blessing, to keep Himself rooted even when everything seemed to be crumbling. She cannot bring Herself to feel much of anything, even though every moment She is aware of means a moment from which she can measure the time she has left to wait. She still does not understand. The part of Her that could have, perhaps, felt and empathized with Their grief is gone. But this time She does not ask. She does not understand, but She has learned that some Wrongs cannot be made Right, or pushed aside, or crushed. She does not like it, but lately She has learned She does not like many things, including, to Her surprise, waiting.

☙❀❧-☙✿❧

    Granddaughter is mourning again. This is fresh, a mortal that Granddaughter had cared for had died. This mortal had not been Family, so She was confused in a way She thought she could fix. She reached out a shadow, but this time She did not prod, only wrapped Granddaughter’s wrist; gently, She remembered. She had never properly spoken to Granddaughter before, so She tried to send words instead of images as She asked

    Why do you grieve?

    Granddaughter startled, and couldn’t seem to respond. Flashes passed through Her, memories and feelings that She could only barely understand, until they stopped abruptly and were replaced with something She could.

    He was family.

    She understood what it meant, but did not understand why Granddaughter said that. They shared no blood, and had not bound themselves together through vows or oaths. But She did understand that Granddaughter meant it, and just because She did not understand, that did not mean it could not be understood. She let Granddaughter be.

☙❀❧-☙✿❧

    Time passes. She has moved beyond Ancient, and can barely bring Herself to consciousness most of the time, let alone remembering. She does still remember some things, a blooming Witch-Hazel, Her Son, four pairs of hands bound together with silver, and Granddaughter, but sharpest of all is the Essence She holds that is Of Her and is Her no longer. She cannot remember what It is for, besides that She must Make something, but must wait to do so. There will come a day where Her Plan will be complete, and until then She must wait a while longer. She is simply waiting, season by season, cycle by cycle, until all at once She feels pain. For a single moment She thinks grief, then dismisses the thought. This is not just grief as She has learned to recognize it, this is Wrong. She gathers Herself and focuses on Her Son and His… heartbreak that even now is quickly dulling into shock.

    The Spring is gone, just as broken in body as Her Son in spirit. She switches focus to the pond where Granddaughter and Granddaughter’s Love and the Summer are, and cannot bother being gentle as She grabs Granddaughter’s attention.

    Grandmother?

    Come.

She registers confusion and hesitance and there was no time.

    Come now.

Granddaughter followed Her lead to Her Son and the moment Granddaughter saw the scene, She could feel it. But that did not matter, because Her Son could not live on without His last Love, so rule of Her Forest would pass to Granddaughter, and She was almost done waiting, but Her Son was dying here and now and She had to pay Attention. She tightened around Granddaughter as She spoke.

    Goodbye.

    She knew Granddaughter understood, as Her Son was laid down. She wrapped Herself around Their hands and tried to give reassurance.

    Mercy. Mercy.

    I know.

She forced herself to be Present as she had not been in centuries, Her Son deserved proper Words, and Granddaughter needed the comfort.

    My Son. My Son, Give Me Your Name.

    He was apologizing, and the Summer was soothing Him in a way She was unable to do. Though She could not soothe, this, finally, was a Wrong She could make Right.

    Dear Child. Your Name.

    I am Virgil. Spider Prince of the Winter Court, Lord of the Forest, Bruderspinne, Husband of Mortal, Witch, and Spring, Father of Autumn.

    A moment, a last goodbye, and then-

    Virgil. Spider Prince of the Winter Court, Lord of the Forest, Bruderspinne, Husband of Mortal, Witch, and Spring, Father of Autumn.

    Go Home.

    It is painless, and that may be the worst part. A string has been cut, severing Her Son, severing Virgil’s connection to life and to Her and to Her Forest and the heartbreak She had felt was gone but so was Her Son! She retreats, and thinks that perhaps She finally understands grief.

☙❀❧-☙✿❧

As Her Forest changes, so does She. The Courts are in safe hands and as they are moving on, so is She as She begins to bring to fruition centuries worth of waiting. She knows that this will Right a Wrong, though She cannot remember what or why or how it was Wrong, She knows what and why and how She must do this. She takes the sharp, scale-smooth shadow and begins to work. Some pieces are taken out, and She does Her best to take this essence that She had Shaped before and return It to what She had first Made. It is memories that She most concerns Herself with, and it is difficult, delicate work based mostly off of half-present instincts. She takes immense care, both with cutting the memories and with the parts of Herself that She shapes and shaves off to Give. She tries to Give what She thinks She remembers Her First Creation had, things to soften Its sharp coils. It is nearly done when She lets It shift and slither to the Witch-Hazel. She Makes It a body, a little younger this time than before, and binds essence and form together. There is a child in the Witch-Hazel, who She does not think She should call Her Son, and who is the solution to a very old problem. It takes more effort than She’d like, but She coalesces to speak, to Give Him a Name from a Mother.

I Name You Durant. You Are a Snake. You Are a Prince. You Are Winter, Unseelie, and Fae. You will be Protected. Wake.

The Child wakes. For the first time in centuries, the Witch-Hazel is in bloom.

---

V: this is absolutely STUNNING and i love it so much! oh when i say i CRIED alskjak im so SOFT

[datawyrms]

Still Robophobic?

Chapter 2  while crawling through all of K1-B0′s text so I can inanely chatter and make depth that probably wasn’t there because it makes me happy. and you can’t stop me. Once again I am serious this is all of his text so this is LONG. (and if you didn’t read my first super long post covering Prologue/ch1, you might want to do that first) someone make me work on my fics lol

Also I totally just realized Keebo is totally hiding behind Himiko after Monokuma’s return to life and I just MISSED HIM lol. He trusts Kaede and Shuichi, even when they’re being sketchy as heck and says he’ll think of plans too, because more plans are better than less. shame upon me for overlooking more of his trusting and trying to help nature. MOVING ON.

Cold open with the funeral that starts at Kaede’s portrait so you think it’s current but no this is for our viewing pleasure only...Gonta finds the horse a hint...Kaito abuses a doorbell and shepherds Shuichi out of the room...get to the dining hall and Keebs is muttering questions so he can be the first one talking in a scene again!

K1-B0: Writing...? Gonta: Yeah! Like someone try to hide writing in grass! Weird, right!?

keep shining on with your refusal to do anything but ask questions unless talking to Kokichi or a Protag, Keebo. As Keebo is garbage at people, he has zero reaction to the Hatless Reveal. The human has removed part of their clothing and he does not care. If you’re curious, Maki, Ryoma, Himiko, Keebo and Kiyo are the only ones not to remark on it at all. :v

Kokichi: Kirumi, be my mom! Gonta: Gonta want you to be his mom, too! K1-B0: ...What are you two even saying?

even keebs knows you two are being hecka weird by asking that guys. Which is probably the joke that the robot calls them on this. Or it’s him not getting the point of moms/what they’re asking for...since you know. Built in a lab...(Though he does know, since he made fun of Kaede that way.)

K1-B0: ... Kokichi: Hm? What's wrong, Kee-boy? You're not eating— Oh yeah! I totally forgot you can’t eat! Y’know, cuz you’re a robot! K1-B0: ... Kokichi: Hey now, don't look so down. I'll bring you a broken TV later. K1-B0 I don't want that... I'm not a waste receptacle. Angie: Nyahahaha! Keebo and Kokichi seem to be getting along swimmingly!

Everyone’s eating and Keebo is just listlessly staring at food. Till Kokichi decides to loudly announce to everyone that’s what he’s doing. Which, judging by the fact Kaede had to ask...Keebo might have told Kokichi based on how he says ‘he forgot’ that and no one has really noticed he just watches. It’s been a busy set of days, I suppose. Angie is right in a way, she notices how Kokichi’s poking isn’t getting as much of a response and how the little punk keeps pushing on to get some words out of him. Course, it mostly looks like he’s making fun of him, but that’s Kokichi! for an ‘emotionless robot’ you sure picked out his emotion, tiny terror. Things Keebo doesn’t call robophobic: being told to eat broken electronics. He is pretty down though, Kaede’s FTE makes it pretty clear he’s pretty jealous that he can’t eat. Considering it looks good to him and all. (Who programmed that. Why would you do that.).

Shuichi falls into the depressing narrative ‘everyone is faking being normal’ mode after that conversation, we talk about the horse a hint again/Gonta’s gullibility.

Kokichi: Nee-heehee... Gonta, you're so gullible. Y'know, if you keep being this gullible... You’ll be killed before you know it. Understand? Shuichi: ...Ah! The moment Kokichi said that word, the warm and casual mood shattered. K1-B0: What's wrong, everyone? Is there a problem with Kokichi's advice? Gonta: Oh, Kokichi... You no should say thing like that, even as joke.

Keebs can sorta read the air to tell the mood just got real nasty...but has no idea why because to him it’s perfectly sensible advice. this boy. If someone is tempted to commit murder, logically they’ll try to trick people. Who do you trick? Someone gullible. He knows it isn’t a joke. No one actually answers him either, though he can probably guess by Tenko calling Kokichi insensitive. this is why he’s bad at people, people ignore him aaa

Kokichi tries reminding people hey monokuma is totally gonna exploit your glaring weakpoints lol/ups his dislike score, said bear shows up,  kubz give area unlocks/ make an attack on titian reference with the nape of the neck thing and they skadoodle. (keebo also having a neck weakness...tsumugi....)

Kokichi: Hmmm... Seeing that robot-looking one get left out makes me think of Keebo...

yes keebo, you really, really are. No one else even says anything about this, Maki moves the conversation to the items they just got. Poor guy wants to pretend he isn’t that left out. Oh well...he’ll probably figure it out...eventually... Shuichi gets given the job of rubbing items on things because he is the Protag so Go Unlock Stuff, Boy. Keebo hangs out with Tenko near the to-be-unlocked pool.

K1-B0: That item we received earlier...I think we can use it on this stone monument. Can you try?

Tutorial robot strikes again. There is information I know, so i am going to say it and have no fluff dialogue. Tenko has a pretty sweet little scene with Shuichi here and he’s just beep-boop my protagonist powers know a puzzle when I see it.

K1-B0: The ivy withered in seconds. What remarkable technology... Tenko: Ah! We can get in! We can go in from there, right!? K1-B0: ...You intend to go inside? That course of action seems dangerous. Monophanie: No, it’s not dangerous. There’s just a pool in there.

This is why no one invites you to their DnD sessions Keebo. Sure, it’s true they probably shouldn’t blindly blunder into new places but you literally just told Shuichi how to open the door. ‘Ah, a new discovery. Time to ignore it.’ Of course he’s impressed by tech bordering on magic, which is fun. I wonder if the Kubz got summoned to make sure Keebo didn’t chicken out on exploring :v He honestly seems to trust they won’t lie to them, or at least not blatantly/in ways that would get them killed.

Tenko: What should we do? There may be a pool, but we’re not going for a swim, are we? K1-B0: But...if it is not dangerous, then maybe we should take a look. It is never bad to have too much information. Shuichi: Yes, I suppose you're right...

K1-B0: It looks like there's a pool inside. We should take a closer look. It would be best to know the specifics.

Easily swayed, this robot. Two seconds ago you were all ‘let’s not go in there’ and now you’re This Is Totally Not Dangerous, time to Take A Look. Because the Monokubs said it was okay. It had the opposite effect on Tenko, but she’s outvoted by the ahogeholders. I’d say ‘make up your mind’ but this is how Keebo makes up his mind. If he knows something ‘for certain’, he wants to know more. If it’s iffy, he’s cautious. It does look like he’s indecisive as hell though xD

Shuichi: ...Then I suppose that dream is pretty far away. K1-B0: It’s not necessarily a dream of mine... But swimming with everyone does sound fun. If I tried to swim, I would just sink. Shuichi: ...And that one is even farther.

He tries to relate to Tenko a little bit here, in the swimming is her dream but really he just thinks it sounds fun to be included, he knows he can’t swim...they’re in the same boat in that regard! Tenko actually does want to learn to swim, it comes up quite a bit in URDP. Keebo not so much. He really is more chatty about himself in smaller groups :v

K1-B0: I wonder if the day will ever come when I can swim with everyone... Tenko: Keebo! I was wondering... If you fell off a boat and sank to the bottom...would you be stuck living under the sea, beneath a rock or in a pineapple!? K1-B0: What...? Shuichi: No, I believe that before you'd get too deep, your body would be crushed by the pressure... K1-B0: Please don’t say such scary things, both of you! Or I’ll never set foot on a boat!

K1-B0: ...If I ever get the chance to ride a boat, I will wear a state-of-the-art flotation device.

He’s scared. By both of them. He doesn’t get the reference at all, obviously. His hopeful wondering that he might be able to take part in something gets redirected into either being trapped alone at the bottom of the sea forever or crushed to death. From a question that basically comes out of nowhere! But he apparently is still willing to go on a boat with proper precautions. To not be left out. he just wants to be your friend guys. you could at least say sorry for freaking him out come on. His struggle with Not Being Swim Compatible continues.

Shuichi: This looks like...a storage room? K1-B0: I peeked inside and discovered all manner of pool supplies in here. It is fully stocked with kickboards, water polo balls, and even sturdy rubber inner tubes. Perhaps I can float in water if I inflate them and attach them all over my body. Shuichi: Ah, I think you would look like that tire company's mascot...

shh let him do it, it sounds funny. It’s interesting Shuichi’s willing to say this out loud, he usually keeps his snark in his head. Also, you got a lot of info from a peek Keebo. Thank you for also mentioning rubber inner tubes exist here, as this will be plot relevant later. :p

Tenko: Oh, Keebo! Are you a degenerate male or a girl!? Which is it!? 

Shuichi: Really? How interesting...I suppose I did just assume he was a...he. But Keebo is a robot, so...

Non binary keebo is canon. ‘don’t know’ he/him pronouns on the profile page for the robot.  Because he literally hasn’t even thought about it before. And it doesn’t seem like he intends to either! He doesn’t start rationalizing out which one he might be, just admits he...cares so little it never crossed his mind. but seriously how old are you. how long have you existed and not a SINGLE person asked you Keebo your backstory is super shaky. Or secretly depressing. also i totally forgot Miu gets way too excited by the tennis machine. no wonder she takes so long to drag keebo to the lab :v Shuichi wanders off to unlock everything else, and they all meet back up in the gym.

Angie: Alrighty then, check this out. K1-B0: That is a peculiar-looking flashlight...So, what of it? Angie: Umm, I dunno what it is either. I inspected it pretty good...Nyahahaha, but in the end I couldn't figure it out.

we’ve been here for two seconds and you’re back to asking questions aaa Though the fact Angie and Keebo have actually talked to one another again is good, it helps explain why she might have chosen to add him to her ‘friend group’ -cough- Angie then explains she asked Monokuma, he shows up, sorta explains the flashback lights.

Kaito: Hey! Don’t just give up on explaining after a single sentence!  K1-B0: So...what should we do? Tenko: What should we do...? You mean, should we or should we not use the flashlight? No way! I refuse! It reeks of fishiness!

keebo i’m confiscating your question mark key. Taking relying on others opinions to entirely new levels, this robot. But hey he’s actually been answered twice! That’s better than posing the question to the sound of crickets chirping. Tenko seems to like him better in general after hanging out a bit too. (and the whole ‘is not a boy thing.) Kaito and Kokichi face off in ‘should we use the flashback light’ annnd

Tenko: I'm...staying. After hearing that degenerate’s speech, running away would just frustrate me! Gonta: Gonta also stay... Is what true gentleman would prolly do. K1-B0: I also agree with Kaito. Our defeat is 100% assured unless we stand up to this. That’s... how I feel, deep inside. Just a whisper- Kokichi: You hear it in your ghost? I'm pretty sure robots don't have ghosts, though. K1-B0: ...Leave me alone. 

First mention of his inner voice! Kokichi pounces on that, which just gets Keebo to actually stand up for himself a little, though pretty pathetically. He doesn’t seem all that sure if it’s him feeling what’s right or the inner voice though...calling it a whisper. He’s completely convinced to go along with it though, he’s really more of a follower...but of course the outside world is going to compel the protag to get plot details. then they actually use the light

Shuichi: I can't either...I suddenly realized... I could not remember any important details of the Ultimate Hunt... K1-B0: It’s no use, I can’t remember either. I can only remember being chased... I can't remember anything else at all. 

Way to echo Shuichi’s inner thoughts, Keebo. This whole flashback light should really be confusing him more than it does. but we’ll get to that.

Ryoma: Could the reason be that...we were caught by the Ultimate Hunt? Shuichi:  Caught...by the Ultimate Hunt? K1-B0: You mean, we tried to escape by erasing our memories, but they found us anyway... And subsequently, we were captured as part of this Ultimate Hunt? 

At first I thought Keebo’s ‘returned’ memory might have been slightly different to compensate for the glaring issue but nope! Here he is, stating they erased their memories. and he’s summarizing again lol. keebs. i don’t care if you throw your harddrive in a washing machine, you are going to very quickly re-learn that you’re a goddamned ROBOT. He doesn’t even question this memory, no one does! (ok, kokichi probably caught it based on what he does right after this but otherwise) did you think you were a slightly less ultimate robot how did this even logic in your head. Questions that will never be answered.

Kaito: We just gotta work together. If we cooperate, we'll make it out of here alive. Just like a certain someone said... Shuichi:  ...Kaede. K1-B0: But I believe cooperating with each other is the most logical course of action— Kokichi: *snore* I’m snooooring! K1-B0: ...Why are you sleeping!? Kokichi: Whoa! Huh, what!? Tsumugi: Hey, Kokichi...we're having a serious conversation here. Kokichi: And is it written somewhere that I have to take serious conversations seriously? Kaito: Tch, quit acting so immature! Kokichi: Hm? I’m a teenager...so duh I’m immature. Aren’t you guys forgetting to act your age? K1-B0: But I don't have a biological age... Kokichi: Don't worry about it, Keebo. I'm just talking to the humans right now! K1-B0: ...Grgh!  Kokichi: What were we talking about again? Something about working together to escape, right?

he thinks kokichi is actually sleeping. he genuinely buys it when he says I’M SNORING. you sheltered little robot. He is super bad with people in so many new and exciting ways. Which effectively stops him from being a driving force/leading anyone...which is probably exactly what sleepyhead wanted here. Then excludes him further with the not a human reminder, which Keebo still doesn’t actually contest. No fitting in for the robot, can’t be trusted. That and the conversation gets re-directed to the mastermind among them from this diversion. Use Robot for Free Topic Change :v Keebo doesn’t speak up  again at all after this, but he’d probably have no idea what to say about Ryoma just casually going ‘nothing to live for bye’ so. Free time dialogue time!. First time slot...he’s in the dining hall

K1-B0: ...Shuichi, if you have free time, would you like to spend it with me? There's something I want to ask you. 

Lookit him, taking some initiative and asking Shuichi to hang out. Negative five points because you want to ask questions. he’s a very curious robot. Second time slot he retreats to his room.

K1-B0: There's an area in this school that is closed off. It seems there are other hidden rooms as well. 

There’s a lot of hidden rooms! He really doesn’t talk about anything but current events and the school... Free time ends, kubs bungle the motive delivery, Shuichi watches Kaito’s video...and goes to run off to tell him right away about his sad looking grandparents....

Shuichi: Keebo! Have you seen Kai-- K1-B0: Impeccable timing Shuichi! I was on my way to get you! Shuichi: You were? K1-B0: Everyone is gathering in the dining hall. Please come right away. I'll go get everyone else. 

Keebo’s been promoted to sleepy student fetcher in the meantime, or more likely volunteered to help Kaito when he proposed gathering everyone to talk about it. Good thing Kaito didn’t beeline for Shuichi or he might have actually seen the video :v

Kirumi: Shall we wait for everyone then? Until then, I can provide you all with massages— K1-B0:  Thank you for waiting! We gathered everyone else! Korekiyo: My word...and after I was about to finally experience one of Kirumi's famed massages... K1-B0: Wh-What do you mean? Are you also suggesting that I cannot read the air? Maki: So what is it? Why did you drag us here?

kiyo you’re hurting the robot’s feelings with your massage lusting. Keebo no idea and just assumes it’s a reading the air thing pffft. Getting everyone together to discuss the kubspads is a bit more important, even if they wanted to do something first. Not that anyone is going to tell him that :v

Kokichi: So, what are these videos? K1-B0: No doubt they’re the motives from Monokuma, but why were they all mixed up...? Gonta: Y-Yeah! Why Gonta get Tsumugi's video— K1-B0: No! Don’t say it Gonta! Gonta: ...Hm? Tsumugi: Aah...I heard it... I see... So Gonta has my video... Gonta: ...Huh? Gonta not supposed to say it? Miu: Who fuckin’ cares!? We’re gonna exchange ‘em anyway, right? K1-B0: No, we cannot exchange them. Shuichi: What? We can't? Ryoma: Why not? They're videos of the most important people in our lives. K1-B0: And that is precisely why we cannot exchange them. Although we do not know why our motives were mixed up...As long as we don't exchange them, we don't have to see our motives at all. Himiko: So it’s better to just ignore them... K1-B0: Yes. At least, that is what I think. Tenko: Th-That's true... If we ignore them, then we won't have a motive... Ryoma: I'm against that.

The robot has learned the technique of how to cut people off mid sentence, but was a bit too slow on the draw here. This is basically the first time Keebo takes the lead on an idea though, so of course it’s about keeping everyone safe. poor gonta. Innocently having no idea why the weird robot is suddenly pushy at him. The fact this clicked really quick for Keebo while Shuichi is still half ‘but i gotta show it to Kaito’ is pretty interesting, but makes sense. He’s probably less likely to have that emotional ‘oh friend would want to know this, i must let them know’ moment our detective is having. I expect he saw it as a motive first, and all else second. Kaito is the one who takes over when it comes to confronting Ryoma, because Keebo and conflict do not mix well. because he’s a doormat. He does speak up again though!

Kokichi: Who cares? Ryoma just stated his opinion. Actually...I feel the same way as him K1-B0: Are you...trying to cause trouble again? Kokichi: Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not saying we shouldn't care about killing or dying...But I think it'd be better if we didn't cooperate with each other...Actually we *definitely* shouldn't cooperate with each other!

...because Kokichi speaks up! Kokichi likes to remark on him, so darn it, he’s going to remark back on on the purple terror. He keeps going on for a long time here too. The fact Keebo was one to originally bring the ‘don’t share’ plan up might be why Kokichi goes so hard against it here. he doesn’t trust keebs as far as he can throw him, so anything he wants done must be obstructed. It’s early on enough that he hasn’t really had time to confirm Keebo is as harmless as he says he is (usually.) And hey if it doesn’t work he’s still showing himself as ‘difficult’ for future evil plans.

Kokichi: Anyway, I’m warning you all for your sake. Let's just exchange our motive videos instead of cooperating with each other. K1-B0: ...I cannot comprehend that logic. Kokichi: Well, now that I've said I won't cooperate, I can't afford to be seen with you losers...C’mon Gonta, let’s go.

good job keebo. don’t refute or argue, just state you have no idea how his brain works. He doesn’t speak up at all once Kokichi leaves either, not even when it devolves into Kirumi getting a bunch of orders. He isn’t one of the ones that leaves so apparently he just...watches everyone eat hot pot :v Then it’s time for more free times!

K1-B0: Everyone seemed to really enjoy that delicious-looking tripe hot pot... It's fine. You do not need to worry about me. *sigh*...

oh he literally did. I forgot this line. keebo. why do you do this to yourself. The food thing is...a big thing for him. Is this why you hate vending machines Keebo. Do you think those machines ate the food. In Free time slot two he’s alone still (he’s almost always alone, no matter where he is. Kokichi and Kaito were just in the room he’s in now the previous free time tho.)

K1-B0: I also want to know what is contained in my motive video... But...if a killing were to happen because of that... It would mean that we've betrayed the very wish that Kaede entrusted to us.

I want to know but am putting everyone being safe first. Though also ‘Keebo what on earth could you been shown that would make you thinking killing is okay suddenly.’ Then I’m ‘oh do you mean you don’t trust the person you trade with to not go murder’. Do you have Shuichi’s, Keebo? Is that making you double down on Kaede’s wish, right to Shuichi’s face? Kaito is surprised to know Shuichi has his, there’s nothing saying they had to be ‘swapped’ to match...it’s just interesting to think about. another interesting thing is Himiko and Angie are hanging out in the same room during this free time. V3 is pretty good about foreshadowing future events if you go talk to everyone! Anyway, Keebo shows up in Tenko’s parasol event/bonus scene. 

K1-B0: I am grateful for your care, Kirumi. Kirumi: This is more people than I had been told. Tenko: I'm sorry... I just wanted Himiko to feel like a celebrity, too! Angie: Can I join? Atua says He wants to feel like a celebrity too! Himiko: If Atua wants to be a celebrity, then we might as well invite him too. Tenko: S-Sure... If that's what you want, Himiko. Grrrrgghhh...I just wanted to vacation like a celebrity with Himiko! Shuichi: ...Would a god want to be a celebrity? 

This bit is interesting! Tenko objects to Angie coming, but she must have invited Keebo herself, as he isn’t here to set anything up. He doesn’t spend either of his free time spots at the pool, so it’s not coincidence that he’s there either. Maybe they’ve bonded over their inability to swim. He wouldn't just tag along of his own accord. Tenko then tries to shoo Shuichi away here because of course she does :v

Shuichi: ...What about Keebo? Tenko: Keebo's a robot, so he's neither male nor female! He barely passes! K1-B0: ...I cannot tell if that remark is robophobic or not. Shuichi: Well at the very least, you're better off than I am... 

Want to be included...eclipsing need to be treated the same...Even though he’s self admitted to not being either! :v Keebo honestly doesn’t know what he wants. Shuichi apparently thinks you’re enough of a guy to get turfed out with him Keebo, so that’s probably something you like? It’s nice to see Tenko remembered though, considering she was the one who asked him in the first place.

Kirumi: By the way, Keebo... K1-B0: Yes? Kirumi: In your case, would you prefer oil over tropical juice?

Kirumi: Keebo, Tenko requested I help her feel like a celebrity. And she has included you as one of her guests... I will do my utmost to fulfill her request, for that is how a maid must conduct herself. So please tell me what food or beverages I can prepare so you feel like a celebrity Shuichi: Such pride and dedication... Kirumi's prowess as a maid is showing! K1-B0: Um...I do not require food. And I would not be able to taste it in the first place...

He’s a bit hard to read here! He’s happy with just the offer, but seems a bit awkward about it judging by the sprite being used. Actually being accommodated for seems to put him off a little. It seems he’s fine on oil on the moment so he has no need or desire for it though. Which conflicts with Kirumi’s goal and seems to actually irritate Keebo by pressing. He’s doing the exasperated hands up sprite when he’s stating he doesn’t need or taste food. Would it be nicer to just go ‘okay fine oil’, probably. but he doesn’t since uh. It could just be the ‘I just said no thank you why does no one LISTEN’ getting to him! that and we know keebo has like -10 to tact anyway. That and...asking him what he needs to ‘feel like a celebrity’ probably just sent him thinking ‘THAT’S A FEELING???’ so he just sticks to a fact and pretends he’s not at a loss. Keebo then spends his time more interested in the parasol than anything else, because of course he is. He honestly looks puzzled by it, it’s kinda cute.

K1-B0: Out of curiosity, do you really need that parasol even though we're indoors? Tenko: Of course! If you wanna feel like a celebrity, you absolutely need a parasol! A robot like you wouldn't understand what it means to feel like a celebrity, huh Keebo? K1-B0: Ghhhh... Th-This is a difficult feeling to understand!

Keebo cannot have a nice thing without getting dumped on for it almost immediately after :v He basically admits he doesn’t know what ‘feeling like a celebrity’ is like by trying to justify himself...but really tenko the question was fair and you just go ‘haha robot’ instead of maybe realizing it’s an atmosphere thing not a feeling thing.  In the morning after Shuichi chats with Ryoma...

Shuichi: Good morning, Keebo. K1-B0: Good morning. Um, have you seen Kokichi or Gonta? Shuichi: Ah, I haven't seen them... K1-B0: I see...I saw them earlier...and they seemed to be sneaking around. Given Kokichi's penchant for mischief, do you think he's planning to cause more trouble? Gonta is very earnest but also very naive... Kokichi could easily fool him. Shuichi: That's true... That is a bit disconcerting. K1-B0: ...I wonder why Kokichi is so determined to undermine our cooperation. True, Monokuma does interfere with our attempts to cooperate, but consider this...Perhaps what Monokuma fears more than anything...is our cooperation. That is why I think that Kaede was not wrong. Shuichi: ...I think so too. I’ll always be thankful for what Kaede tried to do for us. K1-B0: That's right! If we all cooperate, I'm sure we will be able to escape this place! If we meet every morning for breakfast, we will slowly but surely become more united. Shuichi: Yeah! K1-B0: Well then, I will go to the dining hall now.

Keebo and Kokichi are mutually on one another’s case and it’s pretty hilarious. He doesn’t call Kokichi cruel or anything either...just mischievous. Even someone terrible at people saw what kind of person Gonta is, and has apparently decided Shuichi is the one who has to hear about his concerns. He’s pretty into the getting along and working together thing, but Kaito really takes the roll from him in most group settings, so we kinda only see it when Shuichi is alone. Though Shuichi maybe uh. don’t be thankful about the attempted...murder...I know that’s not what he means but hahaha it does not read well xD also Kokichi is totally Keebo’s rival, not Shuichi’s. because keebo is the real protag. :v he’s totally Togami levels of dickery to Keebo, who’s pretty Makoto-ish...even if I do read Kokichi more favourably at times for that sort of comparison :v  Moving on to the dining hall.

K1-B0: According to my calculations, not everyone has gathered today. Shuichi: You can see that without doing any calculations...

You know you’re low on the totem pole when Shuichi will dunk on you. Out loud. This is the opening bit for this scene! You couldn’t remark on people missing, no. it is dunk time. Everything Keebo does is in numbers detective, he’s a robot! He doesn’t need to inform you that he calculated it, yes...but he’s trying to impress people and he just sucks at it >> anyway yes people did not come to breakfast.

Tenko: Maybe she's hiding a bunch of kids in there that she's secretly taking care of! Shuichi: What? She's not some stray dog on the streets raising pups... K1-B0: I also saw Kokichi and Gonta sneaking around together. Miu: A couple of virgins sneakin' around sounds like bad news to me!

Keebo reiterates the ‘kokichi is a menace and has gonta with him’ fact for the rest of the class/people who don’t read optional dialogue. Yet he doesn’t mention how this concerns him like he does to Shuichi alone! because that’s not a fact and we’re in a group setting.

K1-B0: Himiko is acting rather odd. I do not fully understand what she is doing...

The Ultimate Mage might not have anything nice to say about him, but he’s paid enough attention to notice the weird ‘calm’ Himiko isn’t normal. Better point it out to Shuichi! and keebo you don’t even halfway understand what she’s doing, it’s ok. Though I suppose 1% of understanding is technically not ‘fully understanding’ something too :v

Himiko: Nyeeeh...as long as I pray like this, I don't need to waste my energy on useless stuff. No matter what happens or what trouble lies ahead, my heart will be calm... K1-B0: I see...It’s escapism. Angie: No... She has merely abandoned reality to speak to Atua. Tsumugi: That *is* escapism.

He found an answer! it’s delightfully cynical and calculated and thus hilarious. He’s doing his little ‘hand up/i’ve deduced something’ pose so he looks pretty proud of it too. Tsumugi of all people backs him up on this! Though I suppose she’d know allllll about escapism! :V gdi moogie. Yet even with his short, matter of fact answer he’s still confused after all the back an forth/ the hug scene.

K1-B0: What’s going on...? Did Angie...do something to Himiko? Angie: Hm? I just undid her brainwashing, that's all. K1-B0: But...Himiko is clearly acting strange. Himiko: That’s rude. I’m not acting strange. This is my true self... I guess Atua's words can't reach robots... K1-B0: Wha—! You're being robophobic again! Angie: It's okay! Atua has compassion for robots who look human! K1-B0: O-Okay... 

Aw. He’s worried about his friend...who doesn’t like him and said we should kill him. this boy, I swear. Very forgiving. We can add one to the ‘times Keebo actually outright said something was robophobic’ count...annnnd Himiko is literally using the reason that he’s a robot to invalidate his concern over her behaviour. i think he’s justified! Not to mention he instantly backs down when Angie basically goes ‘oh Atua would include you’ and doesn’t argue for any other robots here...really just say ‘stop treating me like i’m sub human’, but then they’d just say he is sub human so. robophobic it is :v He just wants to be included so badly...but he’s getting the message as a robot he can’t. and that is sad. of course he listens to angie later, atua and her will include him, even as a robot. Though not at first! The next time he talks...

Angie: No, noooo, that's wrong. It's not enough to simply live here forever. Our lives must also be full of divine purpose. In other words...We must make this academy  heaven on earth! Shuichi: What...? Angie: In doing so...our desire to leave will vanish, and the killings will cease. K1-B0: Are you...being serious right now? Angie: This place provides us all with shelter, food, clothing, and wonderful friends! What more could you possibly desire? Do not give in to your greed.

He’s very much on the ‘no, we are not staying here forever’ train. He can’t parse if she’s being serious or not. He’s also doing the job of reacting since Shuichi is still mostly reacting in his own head instead of out loud. Her argument might compel him a little though, considering how alternate plans of escape haven’t really shown up...

Himiko: Now is the time to demonstrate my powers. My magic is the only thing that can heal your twisted hearts. K1-B0: But in our current predicament, performing magic tricks is quite illogical- Himiko: Nyeeeh, don't disturb my concentration. You gotta learn to read the mood already. And...it's called a magic show cuz I do magic. Not tricks

Cut off again and dismissed! Keebo needs to avoid people shorter than himself, apparently it never goes well for him. Though he does get an unintentional stab at Himiko here by outright ignoring her ‘magic’ bit to clarify that they’re tricks. He isn’t too great at telling a sort of performance could cheer people up, sure...but people really should be thinking of other solutions too. but no we’re gonna dunk on the robot and go ‘shut up you’re dumb’. The fact he still attends when he clearly doesn’t get how it should help, or why...he’s trying so, so hard.

Korekiyo: Kehehe... Faith as intense as this can be quite terrifying. K1-B0: There may be no cause for concern. This does not appear to be related to our motive videos. Kaito: You're only worried about that? K1-B0: Of course. We cannot afford to take Monokuma’s motives lightly. Tsumugi: But...everyone who isn't here could be showing each other their videos, right?

yes kaito, he already expressed concern over Himiko’s behaviour and basically got told to sit down and shut up. Twice. Of course he’s only focused on the only thing he didn’t instantly get shut down over. You should have backed him up earlier! I really do love Kaito, but Keebo never really benefits from Kaito’s good qualities.  Free time again, he’s hanging out on the 3rd floor. Same general area as Maki’s lab...so basically alone, as usual.

K1-B0: A magic show...It seems unconnected to the killing game, so I do not foresee any issues with it... 

Fortune telling is not one of his skills. Though I suppose the show itself has no issues, it’s what happens before...This is also the last FT slot in the chapter so I’m smacking the level one FTE here.

K1-B0: Since you have come to speak to me...I can only assume that you've taken some sort of interest in me. Shuichi: Ah, well...you are a robot, after all. K1-B0: Indeed. Curiosity is a very useful human quality...Very well, I shall humor you. Shuichi: ...Hm. I feel as though he's talking down to me a little... K1-B0: So first, I will explain my functions. As a robot, I'm somewhat extraordinary compared to you. Shuichi: But...I remember you saying something about having the strength of an old person... K1-B0: T-True, but...Considering the tragedy that occurred during trial production, it was a logical design choice.Now first, is my visual acuity. I have 20/13 vision... Impressive, no? Shuichi: ...You think so? I believe that's pretty normal... K1-B0: What are you talking about!? Over 50% of high school students have less than 20/20 vision! But no matter what, my visual acuity will always be 20/13. Shuichi: If it got any worse, I suppose that would count as a malfunction... K1-B0: My next function will definitely surprise you. Shuichi, please raise your hand. Shuichi: Huh? My what? K1-B0: I want you to put your hand in front of my mouth. Shuichi: ...Like this? K1-B0 Haaaaaaaaaaa... Shuichi: ...What the hell is this? K1-B0: Haaaaaaaaaaa... Shuichi: Lukewarm breath grazed across my hand. Well, Keebo is a robot, so maybe not "breath"... K1-B0: How about that? In addition, my warm breath also functions as a dryer. Shuichi: Ah...I see... K1-B0: Now, now, you can't be surprised just yet, okay? Case in point, my hand can turn into a multi-tool! With both hands, I have 20 tools at my disposal! My finger can detect wafting aromas, and even distinguish between different scents! I also have a music player for when I'm bored. I can even play tapes and records. Neat, huh? Shuichi: I'm still thinking about how weird your breath felt, I dunno about your other functions... K1-B0: Don't be too surprised. After all, I am the Ultimate Robot! Shuichi: ...

The start of Keebo’s FTE is almost word for word how he starts with Kaede. This is how he introduces himself to people. This is him being confident and secure. Unlike Kaede though, Shuichi has no qualms in pointing out Keebo’s shortcomings instead of letting him chatter on like he does with Kaede. He spends a lot more time trying to show him new functions, apparently thinking he just needs to show one that’s a bit more ‘impressive’ to get a positive reaction. Like being asked questions, or at least a ‘oh that’s cool’ instead of ‘wait aren’t you weak’. But we’ll gloss over the the tragedy in trial production AGAIN. To the point he takes Shuichi’s baffled silence as a more positive reaction than of the others he got, seeing as he seems to think the detective is impressed...even though we know he’s not. It’s true most people don’t have twenty tools always on hand and a music player that can take tapes and records on them at all times but...it’s easy to dismiss as not that interesting. Even though he’s desperately fishing for validation here. The nicest answer we can get out of Shuichi here...is clearly a lie, to be honest. (Keebo probably uses that music function a lot.)

Shuichi: Y-Yeah...amazing K1-B0: Right? I am Professor Idabashi's masterpiece, after all. The professor's technology has given me the functions to support a life of comfort. Shuichi: A life of comfort... I see. That makes sense. K1-B0: However...My greatest attribute is actually not a function at all.

He takes it as a honest statement and instantly brings up how great his creator is. Keebo...cares about Professor Idabashi a lot. He is bragging, about himself...but everything he is is something his ‘father’ made. Or at least that’s what he thinks anyway...He wants people to know how great his dad is. and that’s sadly sweet. (Since he probably doesn’t exist. or care about him if he was made for this...) The part where he supports of a life of comfort is interesting though. Are you built to bring comfort to the professor, or mostly yourself Keebs? It could be both. It’s nice to think Keebo’s father figure would want him to be able to live comfortably...be able to stand on his own two feet as it were. He might not have a use for many of the functions, but he’s clearly thinks they’re valuable

Shuichi: That's actually pretty normal. K1-B0: Gh—! Wh-What do you mean, "normal"!? What do you know about robots!? The meaning of "normal" is purely subjective anyway! Don't assume your definition of normal is the same as mine! Shuichi: Oh no, he's really mad! K1-B0: F-Furthermore...! My greatest attribute is actually not a function at all.

ahahahaWHOOPS. Good job Shuichi, you genuinely upset him. Because you said his ‘father’s’ work is ‘normal’. Without the context of the ‘nicer’ reply, this can seem really out of left field! Keebo is usually all about being ‘normal’ and fitting in ‘like everyone else’ but here he goes basically spitting fire at Shuichi for it. What do you know about robots indeed Keebo...But hey, we get some of that impulsive side here, getting overwhelmed and just spitting out what he thinks right away. This is WAY more fight than we usually see him give Kokichi, and that guy’s mocking him all the time. probably because he hopes Shuichi is a better/nicer person than him but still. In contrast...

Shuichi: Ah...is that it? K1-B0: Is that it...? You mean, you're not impressed? Shuichi: Well, I assumed you would have more...special...functions. K1-B0: ...W-Well, you know...I *might* have a special function of sorts... Shuichi: ...Might? K1-B0: But Professor Idabashi told me to keep it a secret. I hope you get the chance to see it someday. And besides... My greatest attribute is actually not a function at all.

He just takes it when Shuichi is unimpressed. Clearly Shuichi not being impressed with him is a shortcoming on his part, not the Professor, or his work. Being told he’s lame or disappointing is something we’ve seen a lot of...and apparently that doesn’t trigger his get mad buttons. Think he’s...kinda used to it by chapter 2. Though Keebo will still try and fish for later attention by suggesting he does have a ‘special’ function he’s been told to keep a secret. (Though...what Keebo things is special might not rate such praise from others)

Shuichi: It isn't? K1-B0: You can't tell what it is? It's my compact, lightweight design that makes my various functions possible! This is what truly drives Professor Idabashi's technological revolution! Well? Now do you understand just how amazing I am? Shuichi: I don't know how to respond to his boasting...Maybe someone like Miu would really appreciate his mechanics. Shuichi understandably is ‘ you’re like slightly less heavy than Gonta and he’s way bigger than you Keebo wtf do you mean’. This makes far more sense when you know KEEBO CAN FLY. He’s lightweight enough for that That is incredible. Too bad Keebo doesn’t actually like flying, according to him. Though really, being light enough to travel around where humans can fairly easily when he’s made is metal and carrying quite a bit of hardware is similarly impressive, even if Shuichi doesn’t really see it. He does correctly get that Miu would probably be impressed though! sorry keebo your attempts to look self assured have failed yet again. (As I wonder if Keebo feels he can be above or below humans, but not equal considering how little success he has and how his final FTE finishes but mhm we’ll get there.) Keebo is ones already grabbed by Gonta by the time Shuichi gets dragged in.

Korekiyo: The same is true of the rest of us. We were all seized by Gonta...and brought here. Tenko: But Shuichi's the only one who got knocked out. K1-B0: Gonta apologized for that. Apparently he couldn't slow down in time when he tried to grab you. Shuichi: What is this anyway...? Why did Gonta do this?

Gotta let Shuichi know that Gonta is sorry. Gonta is probably one of the nicer ones to him in general, so it’s not a big surprise that he’s already forgiving the guy for dragging him here, and hoping Shuichi doesn’t blame him either. Since we know who’s to blame....

K1-B0: I do not think Gonta would ever decide on his own to capture us. What is Kokichi trying to accomplish by taking advantage of Gonta's naivete? Regardless, I cannot forgive his nonchalant attitude about using people!

...haha keebo’s being nonchalantly used by tons of people...Anyway he doesn’t blame Gonta for this at all, understandably and is already going ‘what is that little gremlin up to?' He’s been concerned about this exact thing for days but wasn’t able to do anything about it. He even clarifies that even if there was a ‘good’ reason, he cannot stand for Kokichi just using Gonta like this...but unfortunately won’t be able to prevent it the second time either.

Kokichi: Isn’t it great!? Only an evil supreme leader like me could do something so...eeeeeevil! K1-B0: Kokichi...why are you doing this? Kokichi: Oh, I thought we could throw ourselves a little screening party with all our videos. With all you here, exchanging our motive videos wouldn't be that difficult at all...And I wanna see your videos, too, so I figured we could all binge-watch them together! K1-B0: D-Do you know what will happen if you do that? Kokichi: Ummm... Everyone will know their motive and a killing will be more likely to happen? But I like playing on Mean difficulty. Also, I don't run from battles in RPGs, either! I wanna win this killing game! So I'm not gonna run from it, I'm gonna crush it! That’ll be waaaay less boring, don’tcha think?

protag and rival square off. Or more Kokichi monologues his evil plan. Keebo’s the one to confront him about it first...and oh look, Danganronpa reference in regards to difficultly level. I wonder if he suspects he’s talking to a camera already. After all, he decides the gathered group is ‘enough’ for the little viewing party even though Gonta couldn’t get everyone. Five missing people is quite a few.

K1-B0: It seems I must be the one to take care of this. With my talent, Kokichi, I will stop- Kokichi: Yeah, yeah. I don't have time to listen to some robot. Let's see...it's exactly 9 pm. right now. I should be back by nighttime. Welp! Have fun with the bugs till then!

sorry keebo you don’t get to have monologues. He just listed to yours Kokichi, get back here and listen to the whole thing. It is good to see Keebo taking initiative though! Even if...people are not going to be all that impressed even though it works.

Tenko: M-My Neo-Aikido is no match for Gonta's superhuman strength either... K1-B0: ...We still have a chance when Kokichi comes back. That’s when I will take care of this. Everyone, please just endure it until then. Shuichi: E-Endure it—

Hey remember how all the cameras in the game are apparently magically tiny bug bears? So feasibly all CGs could just be shots from them? How are there bugs on the edges on such a tiny camera? ...Well we have a bigger camera at this scene, don’t we! keebo’s totally buried by bugs like himiko is ohno. Keebo might not be able to get bitten, but he’s not having a good time at the insect meet and greet either. He doesn’t talk during it, and his post dialogue doesn’t mention his own feelings. I imagine bugs crawling inside him would be unpleasant though :v Hopefully that didn’t happen. All those armored plates have edges for things to get at though...hm.

K1-B0: ...Thank you for enduring it, everyone. This is the last chance. Please leave the rest to me.

He is gonna help! do your best you funky little robot. Though if anyone had stopped Kokichi from leaving or made him have to listen to the speech Keebo could have done this an hour ago. This is why you back up your robot buddy, kids.

Kokichi: Oh, don't worry about it, Gonta. Just keep watch so these guys don't— K1-B0: That’s it! I won’t let you do as you please! Kokichi: Hm? K1-B0: I didn't want to use this unless I absolutely had to. It eats up a lot of my electricity. But that’s neither here nor there! I will stop you right here, right now! Shuichi: Keebo...what are you going to do...? K1-B0: ... Shuichi: Still glaring at Kokichi, Keebo slowly reach a hand behind his ear...and spun the mechanical parts there. Tsumugi: He's lighting up!? Is he gonna self-destruct or— *whirrr...* Tenko: Huh? What's that sound? K1-B0: One moment please... I'm rewinding the tape right now. Himiko: The tape?

Shuichi: Keebo shouted out and pushed his palm against his ear That's when... ‘Is this your doing, Kokichi? Did you have Gonta kidnap us?’ Was that...my voice? ‘Nee-heehee...he's so simple-minded. As soon as I told him that everyone who hates bugs was trying to get rid of them......he started crying, and said that he would get you guys to love bugs...or something like that.’ Could this be...? K1-B0: So, what do you think!? You just saw my audio recording function for the first time! Tenko: Did he really just whip out an audio recorder like it’s some kinda secret weapon!? Tsumugi: Really? It’s a cassette tape? In this day and age? K1-B0: But it’s metal tape, you know!? Tsumugi: The sound quality isn't the issue! K1-B0: L-Let's just put this aside now. More importantly, it seems to have worked.

Over the top and flashy for...recording audio with very good quality. No wonder it uses so much electricity if he needs to light up to get it to work. Or he was just trying to show off since he’s personally getting back at Kokichi for this actions here...or at least making sure he’ll see some consequences. Not that it matters, he just gets made fun of anyway...even if he tries to defend the tape being metal as a way to seem less unimpressive. 

K1-B0: We must run while we still can! Tenko: Wait! We need to take back our Kubs Pads first! Shuichi: Tenko snatched the Kubs Pads from Kokichi. Kokichi: Awwww... Shuichi: Then, we all ran out of the lab. After leaving the room, I could still hear the muffled buzzing and Kokichi screaming.

yup keebo leads the fleeing out and totally leaves him there to his fate. With audible screams. He might be nice but he’s got limits. and apparently being locked in a room for like two hours being swarmed with bugs is one of those limits! Though I think he’s still more bothered by the ‘using Gonta’ bit. After they get out Monodam takes the pads to return them...

Tsumugi: But out of all of them, we can probably trust that one, right? K1-B0: Shall we go back to our dorms? It is well past nighttime. Angie: Nyahahaha, that's true! We have the magic show tomorrow.

of course you’d think that Tsumugi. We trust the robotic one that kills it’s siblings. Though they are the ‘friendliest’ cub...it just makes me think of another robot who gets determined to kill all their friends for the greater good hm. Keebo just thinks all his human friends should get some sleep, but he’s probably wanting to go charge if that light show just gobbled a chunk of his battery. It must be one hell of a drain if he can go a week normally without worry... Which he somewhat confirms in the morning.

Shuichi: Ah, Keebo. Good morning. K1-B0: Good morning, Shuichi How are you feeling today? Are you still sore from the events of last night? Shuichi: Ah, I'm fine. Are *you* alright? K1-B0: Yes, I’m fine. I’ve recharged the electricity that I used on my recording function. Even so...I'm very happy that I was finally able to use my functions to help everyone! Shuichi: Keebo's recording function... It's not exactly revolutionary technology, but it did help a lot. Yes, thank you, Keebo. You really earned your title of Ultimate Robot. K1-B0: Oh, it was nothing, really. If you ever need my help for anything, please don't hesitate to ask. Shuichi: Ahaha... Yeah, I sure will. K1-B0: So...the magic show is starting soon, yes? Everyone has probably gathered in the gym already. We should get going as well.

Shuichi actually asks if Keebo’s alright! Actual concern instead of more dunking! Keebo asking if Shuichi is okay is not as much of a surprise, but it’s nice to see he admits he’s happy that he was able to be helpful. He wants to be useful. Goes and downplays how he helped in order to keep stressing how ‘please ask me if you need help I WANT TO HELP’ :v Then he’s off to go to the Magic show, which he probably isn’t super interested in but Everyone Should Be There, so he’s gonna go. Also, we learn from Angie that Keebo and Kaito were the designated equipment carriers from Himiko’s lab. I guess it wasn’t too heavy, or Kaito might have been doing the brunt of the lifting. Also, when you talk to Angie before the show...

Angie: Tenko, you’re trembling. I've told you many times that Atua loves all His creations. Tenko: What do you mean, all his creations!? That's way too much love! What about Monokuma, huh? Does Atua love him, too? Angie: Of course. So we must love Monokuma, so that our love will reach him. Tenko: Shaddup already! Robots can't feel love! They can't feel any emotions at all! K1-B0: And yet...I felt a strange pain in my chest after you just said that...

y u gotta do this Tenko, he’s RIGHT HERE. or at least apologize! But no, we’re just gonna let Keebo know his emotions he’s feeling aren’t real I guess. You two were getting on okay, so of course he’s upset...but this does also set up a little more that Keebo’s heard Angie say Atua accepts robots twice now.

K1-B0: This is quite a professional-looking set. However, considering how unsettled Himiko is...We might not get to witness for ourselves the skill of the Ultimate Magician. How unfortunate.

Well, he’s impressed by the work his friends did! And seems like he’s at least semi-interested in seeing Himiko’s talent in action, even if he knows it’s trickery, not magic. He’s always ready to be a supportive sort of friend and praise their efforts. not that he gets it back all that much. He does get caught up in the tension of the show and seems to worry a bit after Gonta runs up to the stage.

K1-B0: Um...Less than ten seconds remain...

Notably, he’s also one of the ones who looks to be mid movement after this line...(there’s a lot of CGs for this part, huh)

K1-B0: Look! The piranhas! Tenko: H-Hurry! The curtains! Open the curtains already!

Then Ryoma is shown to be very very dead. Due to how everyone who wasn’t at the show rushes in, there aren't as many reactions before...well.

Kokichi: Yeah, break it. It’ll take too long to drain it by hand. Shuichi: But what would we even use to break— Kokichi: Gonta! Kee-boy! You’re up! K1-B0: Huh? What do you mean, we're up? Kokichi: Gonta, throw Kee-boy as hard as you can! Use that robot like a battering ram! K1-B0: Who are you calling a battering ram!? Gonta: Gonta throw Keebo! Got it! Tenko: Then, I’ll help too! K1-B0: N-Now wait just a second. You don't need to team up now—

K1-B0: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

robot gets yeeted despite protests because guy no one likes says to. Why are all you guys so mean to this poor robot. You could have seriously hurt him! Good thing he’s waterproof, but he still got treated as a thing and probably got nasty blood water all over him >> Does anyone even say ‘sorry’? Or even thank you? NO. being keebo is suffering, like it’s pretty funny but MAN these kids are jerks to him.

K1-B0: I’ve...gathered Ryoma’s body and belongings...in one place... Shuichi: Keebo looks depressed... He *was* just used as a battering ram, so I understand why.

maybe apologize for what happened? or tell Kokichi off, or Gonta for listening and Tenko for just going along with it? no? ok sure we’ll just leave him staring listlessly after carrying the remains of his friend while soaked in his blood, why not. after all he doesn’t have feelings, apparently. 

Korekiyo: In any event...let us begin the investigation. K1-B0: Investigation... So it's really going to start again. Tsumugi: I can't believe it... One of us killed Ryoma...

yes you can tsumugi. Why are you always talking near keebs this chapter. Unsurprisingly, Keebo still doesn’t really like the idea of a class trial and what it means, but I suppose it gives him something to think about that isn’t how he has zero respect around here. Anyway, Maki says ‘nope, i’m out’

Miu: The fuck is that bitch's problem!? She's seriously not gonna investigate!? K1-B0: That seems...rather irresponsible. Korekiyo: She likely assumes someone else will take care of it...and I suppose she isn't wrong.  

Considering you all die if you’re wrong, irresponsible is certainly a word that works. He doesn’t do name calling or anything though, just points out the behavour. She’s busy trying to hide she’s an assassin, but it isn’t like the rest of the kids have too much time to worry about that. Keebo is probably a bit more shaken than he lets on though, he doesn’t confront or talk to Kokichi at all while he’s busy accusing Himiko, and usually he does!

Kirumi: To solve this mystery, we must first learn the trick behind Himiko’s Underwater Escape Act... K1-B0: We have no choice in the matter. Shuichi: He’s right...we have no choice. We have no choice but to find the culprit who killed Ryoma. This investigation is to save all of our lives...because we’re risking our lives in the class trial!

Behold as Kirumi tries to send both protags on a pointless wild goose chase! The underwater trick and how it works turns out to be completely irrelevant! Which of course, Kirumi knows and is banking on. :v She’s sneaky. Anyway, Kaito is Shuichi’s partner for this case...

K1-B0: Although there are many unknown variables, the first thing we need to make clear is...when was Ryoma murdered? Kaito: Well, in the middle of the show, obviously. The culprit knew how Himiko's trick worked and took advantage of it to kill Ryoma. In other words, everyone watching the show isn't suspicious. K1-B0: ...Kaito, you didn’t attend the show either, did you? Kaito: N-No, but I'm still not suspicious. I forgot a promise...so I was just eating breakfast. You got it!? I’m not suspicious! K1-B0: I do not understand how that explanation is supposed to convince me. Shuichi: Keebo does have a point...

Robot is right, ‘when’ the murder happened is one of the most important details of the case. So thankfully, he didn’t just immediately try and follow Kirumi’s ill motivated advice. Apparently if Kaito gets questioned by Keebo his brain just goes into shock. Kaito isn’t dumb but he has this weird habit of getting flustered with Keebo’s blunt questions. Maybe because he’s figured out Keebs wants some reasonable explanations! and he doesn’t really have one and just...tries to justify himself in a way Keebs is not impressed with at all. He doesn’t provide any other information, but that’s not a big shock. Considering he was both at the show and the meet and greet and had to recharge, he didn’t really have a chance to see anything of use for this case. this will be a trend.

Shuichi: The fragments of the broken glass water tank have been piled up. There are so many tiny pieces...Gonta and Tenko certainly didn't hold back when they threw Keebo at the glass.

More proof of robot abuse. but really Keebo doesn’t come up much in this investigation. Kirumi actually shows up a second time to distract Shuichi by giving the ‘clue’ that Gonta was the last to see Maki at 8PM. She really had plans to not get caught. We have no need to hear from our robot friend again until pre-trial time.

K1-B0: ...Is everyone ready? Gonta: Not like we have choice, right? Korekiyo: Kehehe... You are quick to understand. It's as though Monokuma has you trained.

Has all of you trained, Kiyo. But Keebo’s doing his protag job in asking the obvious question to prompt responses :v

K1-B0: I did not calculate that we would gather here under these circumstances again...What would Kaede say if she saw us right now...?

I suppose it is also your job to hope. Though it is a little sad that he’s worried about letting Kaede down. Most of the others are more concerned about the trial and the case surrounding it at the moment, but this is what he’s stuck on. Shame and disbelief. this robot understands empathy very well, okay.  Class trial time :v

Kirumi: But it does point to Himiko being the most suspicious. K1-B0: Ryoma died during Himiko's magic show. Korekiyo: His body appearing in the water tank leads one to think the escape trick played a part. It’s only natural we suspect Himiko. She was the one performing the trick.

oh look who’s the first person to agree Himiko is suspect after Kokichi/Angie point to her. Keebo is just outright wrong here! This is why he is not the detective :v Somewhere along the way he’s decided ‘during the show’ was the time of death, whoops. This is also a bit weird becauseeee after the nonstop debate about the cause of death...

Angie: Ryoma drowned, Himiko changed places with him, and then the piranhas ate him. Right? K1-B0: No, Himiko only had 60 seconds to escape from the tank...Even if they changed places at the start of the show, that's insufficient time to drown someone. Kirumi: If that is the case, then when did he drown?

watch out the robot knows how long it takes to drown a man. But this is why his other comment is weird...he knows Ryoma couldn’t have drowned during the show? I suppose he didn’t know the cause of death...but it’s in the monofile...throwaway line you aren't meant to think about too hard but dang it

Korekiyo: Yes... By that point, he had already joined the ranks of the dead. K1-B0: Could that mean his body was hidden until the culprit made it appear in the tank? Gonta: Hidden...where? Kirumi: The culprit would have had to hide the body near the tank, and then show it during the act.

He gets back on the right track after Shuichi points out Ryoma had to die before the show. I super didn’t notice this the first time I played, but Kirumi is always here to make the correct idea seem unlikely and try and steer conversation away from it! and of course kokichi helps her derail it back to explaining the trick.

K1-B0: How did Himiko escape the water tank? Angie: Maybe she just climbed out and no one noticed.

So Keebo kicks off the non-stop debate about the water tank :v Because asking a question is his favourite thing to do, and he just tried suggesting the body could be hidden, so he’s filled his doing things quota.

Shuichi: The staircase also has an escape hatch, one facing away from us. It’s placed so that the water would not drain from the staircase. K1-B0: In which case, a person could exit and leave water inside the staircase. Shuichi: However, that person would be soaked, meaning that *some* trace should be left...That would explain why there was a puddle around the stairs...

Rephrase for the audience and give Shuichi a gap before he has to launch into another explanation. He’s quick to pick up the logic, but he doesn’t really need to apply it since Shuichi usually does that part too :v

Shuichi: ...It's because she changed her uniform. K1-B0: The dormitory is stocked with uniforms. Did you hide one behind the stage in advance? Himiko: Nyeh... Nyeeeh! Angie: I remember seeing Himiko go to the gym this morning, carrying a uniform and a towel.

He does get to do it here though! V3 is nice in letting the other characters also confirm things without Shuichi’s handholding, but he will still be doing the bulk of it, obviously :v keebs can be smart.

Miu: So Himiko went in the stairs with the body!? What kinda kinky shit is she into!? K1-B0: That seems unlikely. There isn't enough space for two people to fit in there. Tsumugi: Yeah, the stairs are pretty cramped. It'd be hard to fit even Ryoma and Himiko in there.

Keebo makes a point, Tsumugi takes the chance to reiterate it to be ‘helping’ by doing very little :v Angie argues for a switcheroo which leads to the next debate, Shuichi refutes it, leading to

Korekiyo: She had no need to worry about us witnessing her at that point. For the entire stage was hidden behind a curtain. To all but Gonta, anyway. K1-B0: Then the culprit never would have considered hiding inside the staircase with the body.Entering the staircase *after* moving the body is much faster, and seems more rational too! Tsumugi: Then...Ryoma’s body wasn’t hidden in the stairs?

He’s back again to confirm his earlier point was correct! With extra logic on his side thanks to Gonta going where he wasn’t meant to. and yes mugi that is what he just said please pay attention. He’ll keep defending it too, such as in the debate afterwards.

Tsumugi: It wasn't really in the stairs, was it? K1-B0: After all, there was only enough space for Himiko.

Shuichi’s busy agreeing with Korikiyo here since he actually goes into what another option might be other than reiterating it’s not the stairs. Trial goes on, Miu correctly accuses Kirumi but of course, it’s too early and baseless so we need to argue with her.

Gonta: I-Is too soon to tell. We should hear what everyone has to say, right? Miu: Fuck that noise! K1-B0: But, Miu, you don't have an alibi for when the crime occurred either, do you? Miu: Y-You think I’m suspicious? I...don’t even know where the gym is.

oh Miu. Robot is always glad to point out relatively simple contradictions like this and get people flustered. Not one to accuse though, since he might simply not know something...

Tenko: Anyway, among those four, the culprit must be the one who doesn't have an alibi! K1-B0: ...I apologize but given the circumstances, we have no choice but to suspect you. Tenko: Suspect who!? Who’s the culprit!?

Even though he says sorry, this triggers a mass panic debate :v Though it’s the logical thing to do, he can occasionally figure out putting people on the spot for murder can be uncomfortable and apologize for it. This is a friendly robot who is way nicer than most people are to him gdi. Miu, Kaito and Kirumi squabble it out. Keebs ends up being in TWO conversations :v

Miu: I have an alibi! K1-B0: What is your alibi? Miu: When I was running from Gonta...Things got a little...heated if ya catch my drift.

He caught it, and apparently had no interest in following up, as that segment switches to Angie asking after Maki’s alibi. Keebo decides to poke at Kirumi’s alibi instead. which is the weak point for this debate. All business today it seems!

Kirumi: That was five minutes before 9:00 p.m. K1-B0: Did you really leave the gym at 9:00 p.m.? Are you sure you did not stay at the gym?

Of course the bullet that breaks it is Kokichi’s account. Because Kokichi and Keebo get on like a house on fire :v which of course means it’s time for the two to squabble again.

Kirumi: This information could have been told to us beforehand. Kokichi: Sorry! Forgot! I definitely didn’t keep it a secret to make the trial more interesting! K1-B0: Forgot...? It seems far more plausible that you were telling another lie. Kokichi: Unlike robots, we meatbags can't pull out our memories from our hard drive. K1-B0: Was that supposed to offend me? Your irrationality fills me with pity...

Of course, the alibi ends up being worthless since the time of the crime isn’t what the kids think it is. (Later it’ll damn Kirumi but right now? not so much.) It makes Kirumi look like less of a suspect so it’s actively harmful, whoops :v So were you ‘forgetting’ because it won’t help solve the case yet...or just having fun. Either way, Keebo shows that he really needs to install a sarcasm detector, that was REALLY blatant. But sassy robot returns, he goes from angry to eye rolling once he realizes it’s more of a backhanded complement than an insult. ‘Why yes my memory IS better than yours, annoying purple meatbag’. Too bad it ultimately leads to Kirumi being off the hook so Kokichi can get his ‘make Maki and Kaito fightfightfight’ game on but I like this interaction. He gets to feel proud of himself a little :v He keeps this attitude for a bit, considering...

K1-B0: Most of that was unintelligible nonsense, but it would seem that Miu has an actual alibi. Kokichi: Yup. It took a while, but at least we got everyone's alibis cleared up...We should remember all of this, in case we need to recall these events again.

oh no they’re AGREEING. someone check hell it’s probably freezing over. But lookit that swipe at Miu. They really don’t start off on the right foot at all! We get the everyone’s alibi bullet which still ultimately means nothing(for now)...and Kokichi gets the fight ball rolling with a...surprising assist from Keebo?

Kokichi: If one of them is the culprit, then the innocent one should know who the guilty one is. Yeah? Because if you know you're not the culprit, then you can just accuse the other person. K1-B0: Yes, that is true. Kokichi: Which means, there is one person among us who definitely knows who the culprit is! To that someone who knows... Do your best to convince us! Work harder!

He’s still eye rolling here, but offers his agreement. which yes, it is true...if either of the accused is the culprit. Which they aren’t. Keebo doesn’t know this, obviously but it’s still weird to see them ‘working together’, but this happens more often the further we go. Mostly because Keebo will follow anything with a solid/logical backing. Kokichi might be a liar, but he generally has a solid bit of evidence or logic to springboard off of. (even when taking us in the WRONG DIRECTION. if you wanted to pressure maki we could have done this in a way easier way you little gremlin). So really, these two will team up more often than Keebo would with say...Kaito, who prompts his next line.

Kaito: Hmph... You don't get it. This isn't just any hunch...This is an official hunch from *the* Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars! Tsumugi: Wh-What...? K1-B0: How illogical... This is even more difficult to comprehend than Kokichi's antics. Kokichi: You're totally not serious! You can't be *that* stupid, right?

Yup. Kaito is more confusing than Kokichi. Kaito is basing Maki’s innocence on nothing but what he feels, which people can sort of get. We all have ‘hunches’, the backs of our brains picking up on little things that we might not actively be paying attention to, and he’s got a lot of belief and trust to give. We can get it, some people you just want to trust! Keebo doesn’t get it. Error, no input found, please give me a provable, actual reason for that hunch. I kind of think he doesn’t even get hunches himself. He can clearly worry, or have concern, but he might lack those sort of gut feelings on if you can trust something or not. After all, he can actively search through his own ‘brain’ and explain why he feels a certain way, he doesn’t need to just ‘have a feeling’. Kokichi following Keebo up here to slap an insult on an honest statement of ‘i have no goddamned idea what you’re on about’ is just expected :v

Kirumi: So...you do not have any evidence. K1-B0: Only baseless conjecture. Tenko: B-But...I totally get where he's coming from! Cuz I wanna believe in Himiko too!

Kaito’s inspiring speech broke zero ground in the ‘make the everyone understand’ attempt. Whoops. So Keebo’s backing up the murderer pointing out the lack of proof. As it is baseless conjecture. You need a fact, or at least a lie presented as fact to get him to understand what you’re driving at. This is honestly interesting, considering he’s ‘hope’ motivated later on. There’s nothing logical about a meaningless hope! So it feels less like him and more his...helpful voice telling him to ignore logic... Maki fesses up to say she saw Ryoma at nighttime

K1-B0: So Ryoma was still alive at nighttime!? Tenko: I thought the crime took place between 8 and 10 o'clock at night?

He’s not on board yet, but he’s listening! Even though if true, haha we spent all that time talking about stuff that doesn’t matter.

Miu: Quit fuckin' around! You think I'm dumb enough to swallow that line of crap!? Kirumi: Yes, this seems too convenient. K1-B0: But why did Maki wait until now to mention that? Kokichi: Ah-hahahaha! It’s totally obvious! Maki’s sooo desperate that she has to lie!

oh hi kirumi no big surprise you simply go ‘no it is garbage’. Keebo’s the one to offer a way out by asking why exactly she didn’t mention it until now, he’s not instantly saying it’s out of the question. Kokichi follows up to try and press that it’s a lie, answering his question. Which probably just tells him that he should keep listening, since Kokichi lies so much :v

Kirumi: Does this mean you an Ryoma recived one another’s motive video? Maki: Maybe... I actually didn't check the one I got, so I wouldn't know. K1-B0: Maki admitted earlier that she hadn't checked her Kubs Pad. Angie: Then why did Ryoma think that Maki had his motive video? Kaito: If he went around asking at random, he might've asked some people besides Maki. Miu: He never asked me! He probably never asked you guys either, right!? K1-B0: Then...who was it that told Ryoma about his Kubs Pad?

Flexing that good memory, and giving Maki a little backup. After all, Keebo’s an expert in what it feels like to get dismissed :v He them prompts Shuichi to Do His Thing in calling Kokichi out as the one who told Ryoma. (Though he doesn't actually get to make him answer before they get derailed again) Though even though he’s willing to listen and belive she possibly did see Ryoma...he’s still not too thrilled about Maki’s choice to keep it secret.

Korekiyo: *If* that story is true... Maki: ...It's true. K1-B0: Then why did you wait until now to bring that up? Maki: I didn’t say anything until now because I wasn’t in the mood to be suspected.

He’s pointing and everything. He’ll believe you but darn it explain. He wants to understandddd. But still, no name calling or excessive rudeness, because he is a good lad who doesn’t threaten or do such things. She explains not wanting to be suspected buuuut

Kaito: Well, whatever. Either way, let's just believe Maki. Angie: Yes, yes. Those who believe shall be saved. K1-B0: No, we need to wait. There is still more to confirm— Shuichi: Well then, why don’t we ask Kokichi?

couldn’t you wait for him to finish the goddamned sentence Shuichi. Still, Keebo’s not a hasty one, the second Kaito wants to just go ‘good enough’ robot is right back to WAIT NO THAT’S NOT LOGICAL. It does get Kokichi to properly admit he knows who had who’s pads though. More squabbling about believing Maki ensues...

Korekiyo: I find Maki's testimony suspicious. It's far too...convenient for her. K1-B0: This is...difficult to determine. Kokichi: Maki is lying! Like I said before, a liar like me knows their own kind!

Are you trying to convince Keebo, Kokichi? You keep reiterating your point right after he speaks. Keebo is basically admitting he’s completely undecided and not taking a stand either way, but he’s usually pretty wishy-washy...because having an opinion involves what he thinks. and he doesn’t like admitting what he’s thinking very much. Certainly not if he doesn’t have a fact to back him up. Shuichi lies in the following debate. keebo will basically always follow shuichi, he’s the ultimate detective. Though hearing everyone else agree/trust him first probably lets him consider it true more easily. (and kokichi just nudging shuichi he saw that lie but not doing anything about it...)

Himiko: So we're right back where we started... What a pain. K1-B0: However, it should be clear now that the crime occurred after nighttime began. Kirumi:  But then when was Ryoma's body placed inside the piranha tank?

Maki’s testimony + Kokichi’s admitting of telling Ryoma Maki had his kubspad + Shuichi’s lie about overhearing= enough to set this as ‘the truth’ for Keebo. It is true, but here comes Kirumi to instantly derail them to the wrong detail first. When doesn’t really matter right now!

Miu: So did we fuck up by thinkin’ the body got stuffed into the piranha tank? K1-B0: I don't think so. We have evidence to prove that's what happened. Tenko: Then when did the culprit throw the body into the piranha tank?

There is evidence, and even then he’s saying ‘think’. he’s so hesitant to speak in absolutes right now. As he might be wrong :v The whole Maki debacle was confusing for him. But now Tenko is repeating the question Kirumi posed and we go on a merry goose chase and have a scrum debate about it. Keebo’s on Shuichi’s side again. (He always will be, with one exception.) He doesn’t actually have a line though! He just gets to shout THIS IS OUR ANSWER with everyone.

K1-B0: That means it was certainly possible to put the body in the piranha tank from the window... Shuichi: However, I’m also positive the pane dividing the piranha tank was set up beforehand. Korekiyo: That certainly couldn't be tossed in. It would need to be placed carefully. Kirumi: Even if the culprit were to throw the body from outside the window...The window is far too high. It cannot be reached from the floor.

protag explaining tag team. Shuichi speaks more confidently in trials, saying things like ‘he’s confident’ while Keebo is hovering around with ‘possible’. You think our detective is an anxious mess half the time? so’s the robot :v oh and Kirumi is once again pointing out ‘problems’ to try and get the line of thought dropped. It works, considering we start going on about the ladder and whatnot and slam headlong into a logic wall until Maki says ‘okay no, time to talk about Where Die, not how get in fish tank’. You knew too Kokichi don’t you ‘ Why didn't anyone realize this yet?’ me :v

Shuichi: That’s important to remember...it’s not as if everyone here *wants* us to find the truth. One of us is trying to sabotage this trial... K1-B0: Well then, let's discuss the crime scene to figure out who the culprit is. Himiko: That's not a bad idea for a robot. The last time I heard such a good idea was......when Nino told me to move in with her under the bridge to get out of the cold. Tenko: Himikawa Under the Bridge!?

it’s a Arakawa Under the Bridge reference :v Honestly there’s tons of references in the game in general and we can totally blame Tsumugi for them. Keebs is glad to be the one to agree to a new topic though. Then he doesn’t have to state an opinion and can just fish for everyone else’s thoughts! He doesn’t even react to the ‘for a robot’ crack at him. :c Though for good reason I suppose when no one takes you seriously and judges you on a dime. Next nonstop debate to establish the crime scene...

Angie: Wasn't it the dorm room? Ryoma was relaxing in his room when he got attacked. K1-B0: But the cause of death was drowning. There is nothing in his room that could collect enough water.

Refuting Angie’s idea with a pointless weak point. I DO think the white noise that goes across when Miu goes ‘S-S-Sow’ might be Keebo though. ‘This is difficult to watch’ does match his general speaking style, and probable opinion :v

Angie: Hmmm...How did those handcuffs get from the lab to the water tank? Maki: Because Ryoma was wearing them, right? K1-B0: Yes, though they were only visible for a brief moment when Ryoma appeared in the tank. I am certain he was wearing the handcuffs at the time. Kirumi: The handcuffs were left after the piranhas devoured Ryoma

He did it, he said he was certain about something! Good job. Considering perfect memory and the horror that was that moment it was probably very easy to recall. oh dear keebo has perfect memories of all his friends corpses. that can’t be fun. oh and the fun of being THROWN AT THE REMAINS. Kirumi ‘helps’ with the easy logic of handcuffs didn’t get eaten. :v Now we’re working with the angle of body movement now that we know it came from Ryoma’s ultimate lab. Tenko suggests just tossing the body from the pool area...

Kirumi: Your explanation contradicts some things we discussed earlier. The gym window was too high to reach from the pool side, even if one used the ladder. Tenko: That’s right! I apologize! I must go on a journey to reflect on this! K1-B0: We keep hitting dead ends, since we don't know how the body was thrown into the gym... Kokichi: Nee-heehee... Well, that didn't really give us any info about the crime.

So of course the murderer tries to make it sound impossible, since we’re getting a bit too close to the truth! Keebo’s frustrated at this point, he’s eye rolling again with no leads to how it was actually done. He hasn’t considered the new approaches that could be possible now that they know where everything started. Kokichi ‘agreeing’ with him should be a tip off though :v shuichi goes and drives a brain taxi and raises the rope possibility.

Kirumi: Is the rope long enough to reach both windows? Korekiyo: The rope is roughly 65 feet in length. As for the distance between the windows... K1-B0: According to the sign at the pool, the width of the pool is roughly 35 feet...and the distance from the edges of the pool to the windows is an additional 16 feet. Altogether, the sum total length from one window to the other is roughly 50 feet. Gonta: And pool is only thing between research lab and gym windows... Miu: You bet it’s long enough! Heh! That’s what she said!

Chatty when he can do something easy like math! Numbers make sense and don’t confuse him with believing and who is working against them. Miu does basically sum up what Keebo took a paragraph to say tho. Since he needs to show his work. he likes having proof, and assumes everyone else likes knowing how he got the answer too. oh and reminder gonta is still plenty smart, he points out how to do the rope trick here. Then we talk about the zipline-i mean ropeway.

Korekiyo: You say the culprit placed their foot on the windowsill? Isn't that against school rules? It would count as entering the gym, would it not? Monosuke: Last time we got asked that question, we decided it was okay. Stickin' your body through the window is an automatic out, but standing on the sill is— K1-B0: Wait, who asked you last time? Monosuke: ...Eh? K1-B0: It is quite possible that the culprit went to you to confirm the details of their plan... Monosuke: ... ...O-Oh shiiiiit!

He does know how to press on something suspicious! Not too surprising he’s the one to confront a Kub, he even cut him off to do this. Keebo seems to put more stock in what the Monokubs say or do at any given time anyway. Of course, he won’t answer, but it isn’t really necessary. Just confirming someone asked was enough, which that freakout accomplished. Kirumi tries to sidetrack again with the ‘multiple trips’ thing...

Korekiyo: Which is why the crime was committed during nighttime, while we all slumbered. K1-B0: But if the culprit was so careful to recover the rope they used to commit the crime...Why did they leave the inner tube in the pool? Shuichi: I believe that was an accident.

He really, really loves questioning things. This part doesn’t make sense, better ask about it, and hurrah, my detective has an answer ready to go. He might not contribute much himself, but he does provide setup :v Shuichi announces Kirumi as his top suspect...

Korekiyo: That is not yet a certainty. Let us hear her testimony first. K1-B0: Is this true, Kirumi? Kirumi: I cannot believe you would suspect me...If that is the case, then I will have to deny it. I will not let you make the wrong choice.

question.exe is always running. i swear. Still, never just taking it right away, he wants to hear an answer. Snap judgements are not his thing. Even if he does lean towards believing Shuichi. because he has secret protag sensing powers. Trial 2 is such a change from one with how hard Kirumi fights here. since kaede did not want to kill everyone :v Keebs says quiet until he’s heard enough proof to throw his support behind Shuichi again

Shuichi: Just tying the rope to the frame wouldn't cause so much damage. The rope that was tied to the frames must have been weighed down significantly. The frames didn't break, but they were left with distinct marks. K1-B0: Those scratches are proof that you used a rope to carry the body to the windowsill. Kirumi: ... Kokichi: Oh? What’s wrong, Kirumi? What’s wrong, what’s wrong!? Hey, what’s wrong? Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!?

Pictured: two very different confrontation styles. I suppose it makes sense Keebo would be knowledgeable about scratches on metal :v He’ll just state some proof that goes with Shuichi’s statement, while Kokichi attempts to annoy her into submission instead. Shuichi brings up the black fabric/the ‘everyone’ thing and Kirumi slips.

Kirumi: Y-Yeah, so what? You’re still wrong! Your logic is flawed!!! K1-B0: Kirumi...why are you becoming increasingly erratic? Korekiyo: Kehehe... There is such absolute beauty in trying to fight against the truth.

:c He’s confused again. Yelling out questioning perfectly good logic is strange for her, emotionally charged, and he hasn’t really figured out guilt and panic makes people act out strangely. He knows the feelings exist, but not the full extent they can go to. and really it can’t be fun to watch someone so collected start falling apart because they murdered another one of your friends and is going to die for it...

Shuichi: The extra uniforms in our rooms are made of the same material we're wearing now. We can test my theory by comparing the fabric scrap with your glove. Kirumi: Gh...grgh... K1-B0: ...Well, Kirumi? Will you allow us to compare the black fabric we found in the pool with your gloves? Kirumi: U-Uhhh...!

‘will you allow us to damn you’. Keebo, you sound like you’re mocking her if you ask now. but he probably doesn’t quite realize that. comic, kirumi spite votes shuichi...

Tenko: Th-There’s nothing good about this at all...! *sob, sniffle...* Wh-why did it have to be Kirumi...? K1-B0: Truly, this result was unexpected. Tsumugi: How can you be so calm about it...?

This time, the culprit actively tried to get away with it. He might not really know how to feel about the whole thing. Kaede was apologizing, while Kirumi was fighting the whole way (and will keep doing so). He probably would have said this about anyone though...suspecting friends isn’t something he likes to do. and you made him this way moogie shush. 

Tsumugi: You mean like from the motive video? So Kirumi watched hers after all? K1-B0: Earlier, Kirumi mentioned that she had accepted a request...Perhaps that request came from a someone important in her motive video? Kirumi: ... Maki: ...Do you have nothing to say for yourself?

Going to ask more questions to try and understand, as per usual. Kirumi does use this as a chance to try and get away again mhm. Keebo isn’t using any of his distressed sprites here either. He might be coming off as a bit heartless at the moment, poking at ‘why did you kill’ and not even looking shaken. so guess who mentions that after Kirumi drops the ‘prime minister’ bit.

Kokichi:  I don't think it's odd that an Ultimate-level talent could be *that* powerful. I mean, Kee-boy’s talent lets him pretend to be human, even though he’s a heartless robot. K1-B0: How rude! I am not pretending! I am still learning! Tsumugi: U-Uh...I see. Well...good luck, I guess.

Yes, this gets the biggest reaction out of him. That’s normal and easy to understand over ‘how do we feel about this.’ While Tsumugi mocks his attempts to learn because she’s terrible :v and Kokichi is almost another backhanded complement? ‘Pretend to be human’, so you do buy his ‘pretending’ and how he seems very human? even though you keep calling him heartless and emotionless...and getting him thrown at things...

Monokuma: I am the ruler of this world. Nothing is beyond my power. Shuichi: Nothing is beyond your power? What kind of arrogant, ridiculous— K1-B0: That is 100% a lie! It is impossible that he could bring disaster to a country! Monokuma: Puhu... Puhuhuhu

Keebo feels the need to cut Shuichi off here! To back him up, but I wonder if his inner voice was telling him he had to deny that claim. He’s throwing out impossible and 100%, certainties...while Monokuma is mugging for the audience. as he basically is a god in their fake little world. It would explain how he’s changed his mind by the next line...

Tsumugi: Kirumi's got the lives of hundreds of millions of people on her shoulders, right? K1-B0: Logically, Kirumi’s survival would result in fewer casualties than our collective survival would. Himiko: Geez... Maybe it would've been better if we'd gotten the culprit wrong...

He seems to believe it now. Not enough to say anything definitive, but he will say it’s ‘logical’. even though you can’t really assume that. Who knows what the collective rest could do for people? No one :v

Kokichi: Do you really think someone as desperate to live as Kirumi would give up so easily? Of course not. In fact, she probably still hasn't given up, even now. She was hoping that learning the truth would make one of us volunteer to die in her place. K1-B0: ...What!? Kirumi: ... Kokichi: But Monokuma would never allow a blackened to escape punishment, so maybe......she wanted everyone to rebel, so she could use that as cover to escape on her own. ...How about it, Kirumi? Am I close?

This shakes him. Lying over something so important is almost unbelievable. After all, he couldn’t see why someone would lie on someone else’s behalf with their life on the line in trial one. Not really a shock he doesn't consider the opposite being possible too. Keebo doesn’t really...lie. Basically ever. The closest he ever gets is a flustered non answer that is technically a lie in a back route. He still cheers her on when she makes a break for it though.

K1-B0: Run! Please hurry!

He doesn’t really react to the death, he’s prompted to speak by Angie.

Angie: ...Oh? Isn't that what Atua said? All desire, even your desire to escape this place, can corrupt you beyond redemption. K1-B0: It's Monokuma who is corrupt. He is the one who distributed the motive videos. Korekiyo: Those videos were more dangerous than we thought. To have driven Kirumi that far...

He’d still rather blame the obvious antagonist over the people he calls friends. Clashing with Angie here doesn’t stop him from getting roped in later...hhm.

Shuichi: That must be why Kirumi did not want to show the videos. She thought that if everyone felt the same murderous rage that she did...this killing game would be pure chaos. She...wanted to stop it. Kokichi: If that's the case, then we really shouldn't show our videos to each other! K1-B0: That was our consensus from the beginning. Not including you, of course.

Shuichi gives a pretty kind interpretation of her actions, and Kokichi earns some robot sass for his actions. Kokichi likely had his own video and was not driven to any such murder...figured out his own plan might actually be bad too little too late.

K1-B0: For now...we should rest. To me, that seems the most rational course of action.

keebo wants to be morgana. GO TO BED. While you just...sit around awake all night long and think about what happened, I guess. Of course, we won’t do that because we have another reveal to do first.

Kokichi: Maki admitted it during the class trial, remember? Ryoma wanted her to show him his motive video cuz he was looking for a reason to live. But that wasn’t the whole story... Ryoma was blackmailing you, wasn’t he, Maki? K1-B0: B-Blackmail? Ryoma just so happened to discover Maki's true identity. So he used that to blackmail her. I bet he said something like... “If you don’t show me my motive video, I’ll tell everyone what you really are.”  That's why Maki didn't want us to know she met with Ryoma. She wanted to keep her true identity a secret! That’s why she kept quiet until the last minute!

That’s the last thing he does, enables Kokichi by asking for clarification :v Hope you liked to see Keebo do things, as the ‘trio’ forms up he has fewer chances to show up. He’s still got a few in 3, but in 4 and 5 he’s fairly sidelined. Well he TALKS a lot, but mostly just his normal questions :v

hahaha this took way to long why am i like this. when am i going to cover his gifting dialouge. who knows. aaaaaaaaaaa. feel free to yell at me about the robitt. or any of the characters :v Chapter 3 will come sooner than I expect I assume...

[buckyownsmyheart]

Duty [1/12]

CHAPTER 1: Reaching an Understanding

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: None! Maybe baby swear words

Series Summary: Ex-army doctor, and now on-mission-for-the-Avengers doctor, Major (Y/n) (Y/l/n), had prepared herself for anything. That was, of course, until she met a devastatingly charming Sergeant from Brooklyn with a quick wit and a kind smile. I wonder what will happen.

Series Masterlist

Prologue

The next day, things in the briefing room were a little tense. A feeling of unease spread through you as you walked into the room, trying to ignore the subdued murmurs and eyes tracking your movements from agents, healthcare professionals and Avengers alike. You steeled yourself against their gazes, daring anyone to question your integrity before Nick Fury quietened the chatter from beside you. 

“Some of you have already met your new on-mission doctor, Major (Y/n) (Y/l/n), and those who haven’t will have heard about her. She will be helping us keep healthy from now on. There will still be the same team here in the medical bay, but she’s the needed add-on. Any questions?” 

Before anyone had the chance to form a thought that might lead to a question, he continued. “Alright, dismissed. Avengers I need you to remain behind for further briefing and report clarification.” There is a jostling and scraping of chairs as the agents leave the room. 17 gives you a wink on their way out before the room becomes quiet once more.

Fury eyed the room. “Your recent infiltration into the HYDRA camp was successful in giving us insight into their new project, but that’s as far as the success goes. I don’t want a fuck up like this again.” He distributed updated files around the table, and you took the closest seat, next to Black Widow. Looking down at the classified file, you weren’t sure you were meant to be reading this but opened it anyway, your curiosity beating your wish to abide by any rules. And you read.

********

S.H.I.E.L.D CLASSIFIED

PROJECT: MOONSHINE, (accessory to HYDRA), 05 SEPT 2019

Named after the technically legal, but often lethal, home-brewed alcohol, HYDRA have created a facility now known to be located within the EUREKA RESEARCH FACILITY in ELLESMERE ISLAND, 79°59′20″N 085°56′27″W. The base, previously owned by the Canadians before HYDRA took over, is secluded and only reachable by jet, with food, fuel and other supplies brought every 6 months.

Recent information has shown their proceedings, including images [see page 3 through 5] of their testing on human subjects, in an attempt to produce the same effect as the serum, successfully trialled on Steven G. Rogers, but by forms of mutilation and pain endurance, as recreating the serum, as shown on James B. Barnes, was deemed unsuccessful in producing the desired effect.

The methods include electrotherapy, fire exposure, exhaustion and debilitation techniques. These hope to push the cells within the body to mutate themselves to survive the conditions. 

TOP SECRET SPECIAL HANDLING ONLY

1

********

You looked up to Fury, reeling a little from the information. You shifted in your seat as it felt too hard and your feet placed uncomfortably on the floor. You hadn’t reached the pictures yet but had a good enough guess as to what they contained.

“We’re working with the Secret Intelligence Service, or MI-6, on this.” Fury reported and looked to you as he said it, “They’re working with our team to find out more. Until then we can only wait. Major, you’re dismissed.”

You stood up, maybe a little too quickly, and walked out the door before you were given any more files. You walked to your quarters and flopped onto the bed. Rubbing the heels of your palms into your eyes to try to try and rid them of tiredness, and make your brain deal with the new information. There had always been people capable of causing such pain, but the thought of people intentionally inflicting that sort of torture on many people was enough to make your stomach turn, and you considered yourself to have a pretty strong stomach. In an attempt to distract yourself, you decided to head down to the medical bay, trying to familiarise yourself with your new surroundings and try and lessen the stares people had given you being the new girl. You rolled out of bed, not daring to look in the mirror and walked back out of your room.

Two flights of stairs and several corridors filled with loud colourful art later, you found the bay. The set up was much like a normal hospital ER, with a bleak looking desk at the front. Someone was scribbling frantically behind it, the bags under her eyes indicating their understaffing and overworking, a permanent feature of any healthcare professional, apparently even if they worked for billionaires. She looked up as you approached and gently returned the smile you gave her. 

“Hi Major, what can I help you with?” Her voice carried a slight roughness to it, but not in an unpleasant way. It was an oddly comforting husk that made you feel like she would have perfect control of any situation that arose.

“Hi Angie,” you smiled, reading her name badge. “I wanted to get acquainted with everything, see what’s what and how you guys run things. I’d love to help out as much as possible.”

“Would you meet the people who run the show?” she drummed her fingers on top of the now closed folder, “Dr Cho is currently with someone, but I can find some of the team?" 

Before you could answer, her eyes flickered to something behind you, causing you to turn and see what she was looking at. Your eyes met with piercing blue ones and you couldn’t help but give a sigh.

“Hey Doc,” Bucky Barnes grinned sheepishly, “Been given orders to have my arm re-looked at, would you be able to help?”

Narrowing your eyes at him you turned back to Angie to ask for her opinion, but she was already holding out a file that had a printed ‘James B. Barnes’ on the top.

“Room 4 is empty,” Angie gesturing to a room with the same unbothered air as she busied herself with other tasks, but you thought you could see the trace of a smile. You realised you weren’t going to get any more help on this one, and so opened his file, pretending it had something to do with his current injury. In reality it was a record of his previous injuries, and had zero relevance at the moment, but it kept your hands busy and felt it made you look important and not like you would rather be anywhere else but stuck in a room with him. You made the short walk into room 4, not looking to see if he had followed you, and sat in the chair in front of the computer. When you had fortified your composure, you turned to him. He was sitting on the bed, idly playing with sheet covering it, and now seeing his open face and off-guard composure, there was no ignoring how good-looking he was. He had changed from his tactical gear into a plain red Henley that stretched over his chest, and you could see the strain of the trousers he wore, their blue bringing out his eyes in a way that should be illegal. You averted your eyes and coughed a little, trying to rid the frog that had managed to wind its way into your throat.

He interrupted your train of thoughts, “I’m sorry for yesterday.” You looked back at him with surprise, not expecting an apology. “I was rude to you and I didn’t give you a chance before immediately dismissing you.” He didn’t break eye contact, and in an attempt to distract yourself from the unusual things your stomach was doing, you tried to drop your rigid glare into something you hoped was more comforting and busied yourself washing your hands. 

“It’s alright. I’ve been underestimated my whole life; I’ve now learnt not to take it personally.” You looked up and met his gaze. “C’mon Sergeant, let me see how much I hashed up that arm,” you saw his shoulders drop a few inches. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all, you knew you had a tendency to be a little defensive at times. After peeling the bandage back, you couldn’t help but murmur a few exclamations as all you saw was faint pink section of skin. A small yellowing scab and peeling of the skin around the edges were the only indicators of any injury.

“Perhaps you’re a better doctor than you think,” Bucky said, giving a small laugh. A small smile wormed its way onto your face.

“Mind if I poke around it a bit?” You glanced up at Bucky, “Why did they even send you down here? It’s healed perfectly.”

“Not at all, all yours.”

You worked your fingers around the edges of the wound, massaging the skin and seeing it whiten and then pink, showing signs of healthy tissue and vessels. You felt Bucky’s eyes on you, but had to resist the temptation to look up, otherwise you might fall right into them.

“It’s amazing,” you confessed to him, “I can still feel the dissolvable stitches I put in there but everything else has healed completely. You would expect this sort of recovery within 12 weeks, not 14 hours.” 

“I’ve never seen it heal as fast as this," He motioned to his arm. "Steve and I would have been a little less uptight at the whole situation if we knew.” 

He nodded to the desk, where you had placed his file.

“All the information on my healing and other enhancements,” he said, his tone had hardened slightly, “Are all in there,”

“Oh, the doctors here have already tested you for this sort of thing?”

“Not the doctors here.”

You looked up at him and your face fell with realisation, of course HYDRA had kept records on him. Sympathy and pity gripped your heart, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

He snapped at you suddenly, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not broken, and I don’t need your pity.” You knew he wasn’t pissed off at you, he was pissed at the situation, but doesn’t mean his words didn’t sting you a little bit. Bucky yanked down his sleeve and stood up quickly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” You reached over and gathered the bandage from the bed next to where he had been sitting, “I don’t think you’re broken. You’re healing, there’s a difference.” You looked into his eyes, trying to convey the sincerity you felt with those words. When he didn’t move, you offered a truce, “Let me take out a few of those stitches on top. It might be a bit more comfortable for you.” He nodded and silently took one of the spare chairs. He did have the grace to look a little ashamed at his outburst, but you figured asking for a second apology in 10 minutes would be a bit too much.

You were quiet as you cut the offending sutures, and when you were done, Bucky pulled down his sleeve and spoke, his voice soft, “Umm, you uh-, you figured out how to use Stark’s coffee machines yet?”

“Not yet,” you laughed, “Haven’t been brave enough if I’m honest. Never seen so many damn buttons on a machine in my life!” 

He gave you a small chuckle, “How about I show you? To make up for being an ass. Today and yesterday. I know all doctors and soldiers have a sweet spot for coffee.”

You smiled, he was trying to make amends and you appreciated that. “Lead the way, Sarge.”

-

“You press this button, and then the water should come through this part, and you get your regular filter coffee. Tastes exactly like it did in the 40s, better even,” Bucky said as he pressed the button. Steaming hot air jetted out of one of the pipes on the side, singeing a hole in Bucky’s shirt and exposing the glint of his metal arm as he swore profusely at the machine, and then at his shirt for good measure. It had become apparent in the past 30 minutes that as much as Bucky claimed to be able to work the coffee machine, he actually had as much of an idea as you, potentially even less.

“Looks like it’s going really well for you Terminator,” Sam Wilson entered the kitchen, and as he caught sight of you, he smiled and extended out a hand. “Hi, we sort of met in the quinjet, but I’m Sam.”

You took it, “(Y/n), nice to meet you. You don’t by any chance know how to work this machine? Half-robot over here is about to blow something up.”

Sam laughed and wandered over to where you were stood, pressed a few buttons on the side, and coffee started dripping into the jug. He turned to you and quipped, “You’re really trusting old-man over here with showing you something technological? For someone quite intelligent, you don’t seem very smart.”

You leaned back and laughed at his comment, Bucky however, looked put-out.

He glared over at him, “What do you want, Wilson?” 

“Steve is looking for you down in the boxing ring, says he’s ready to kick your ass again.”

You looked at Bucky, “Steve beats you in a fight?” Then grinned over at Sam as annoyance crossed Bucky’s face.

“Not today he won’t,” Bucky grumbled as he trudged away from the coffee machine, muttering incoherently except for a few words that I’m not sure Steve would appreciate hearing. 

As you enjoyed the bitter and warm smell of fresh coffee, Dr Bruce Banner walked into the kitchen and gave you a warming smile. He too pressed a few buttons on the machine, and a green froth fell into his mug.

“It’s so good to have an actual medical doctor on the team, they all kept coming to me on the battlefield,” he gestured around him, as if the Avengers were all there, “With life-threatening injuries! Expecting me to patch them up and send them on their way! I only dealt with tropical diseases in India! It was an entirely different thing!”

Sam turned to him, “You’re meant to be a genius Banner, what’s the use of your 7 PhDs if you can’t do anything useful with them?”

You laughed at the interaction, “It’s a pleasure to be on the team, happy to help in any way I can.” You paused, contemplating your next words carefully. “This might be a bit invasive, but what’s the deal with Sergeant Barnes? Is he normally this grumpy?”

Sam looked up at you, but it was Bruce who answered. “He’s still getting used to being able to be the good guy. I think he feels he doesn’t deserve it and so lashes out before anyone else can push him away first. He doesn’t like letting people in. Took Sam a bit of time to figure that out too.”

Sam laughed softly, “He’s the biggest damn grump I’ve ever met, but underneath he’s also a softie and an idiot. Give him time, he’ll be more bearable.”

You just nodded, pondering what they had both said. It made sense, he was still decompressing and figuring things out, maybe you could let him off the hook for being such an ass. You stayed in the kitchen for an hour or so with Sam and Bruce, getting the inside knowledge on the Avengers, the ins-and-outs of the compound and where to find the best bagels nearby. If you were wondering, it’s the deli on the right as you exit the compound.

“Right,” You turned to the two men, “I've been avoiding my unpacking, so I should probably get going, but it was lovely meeting you both properly, and thanks for all the information, I reckon I’ve got enough to blackmail the whole team now.” You said with a wink before walking out the door, waving over your shoulder.

-

In your room, your bags stared at you, lying on the floor, daring you to open them. You stared right back at them. You had been caught in this gridlock for the past 10 minutes and couldn’t quite find it in yourself to begin the task. You reprimanded your lack of motivation, and you had just managed to open your bag and sat on the floor, trying to organise some of your junk. You looked at the photos you had brought along, and they made your insides smile. There were some of you and your brother, the rest of your family, and some of your old army section and other friends. You felt a twist of guilt as you realised you hadn’t rung them yet to let them know you had arrived. Your brother, being a hacker, probably could find out that information if he was really concerned, but you felt bad if it got to that. 

After a quick text letting them know you were safe and happy and that you would ring them later, you found yourself being drawn to your gym clothes. Maybe you should be checking out all the facilities that the compound had to offer. It would seem rude not to. Not because a certain someone who had captured your attention was probably still down there, sweating a little and most likely looking quite good. Not at all. You would never. Trying to move your thoughts away before they became slightly perverted, you pulled on some kit, letting your dog tags hang out in the open, clattering on your chest as you made your way down.

The gym was pretty standard, with weights and machines in one corner, cardio down the far wall, and free space with various mats and equipment dotted around. What drew you was the small boxing ring and punching bags dangling from the ceiling in the opposite corner. Unfortunately, no sign of Bucky. Not that he was the sole reason you were down here. You began to wrap your hands and after a quick warm-up you started jabbing at the bag, getting a feel for it again, before tightening your muscles and pushing yourself a bit harder.

“Not sure the bag is good enough for you Major,” Bucky spoke from behind you, appearing out of nowhere and making you jump, “think you might need a more challenging opponent.”

You let up on the bag, steadying it with one hand, “You offering yourself up, Sergeant? Is Steve that much better than you that you’re going to sink to my level?”

“Not sure the bag would agree with that statement, you were giving it a harder time than Steve and I put together,” He provoked, patting the bag with a pretend sympathetic gesture. “I would like to think I could put up a better fight than the bag though.”

Steve rounded the corner, from what you assumed was the changing rooms, and addressed Bucky. “I’ve seen her file Buck, let’s just say she would have had you nose-deep in mud in the 40s. And I’m not going to be putting my money on you today.” You grinned at Steve.

“Alright, it’s on.” You paused, straightening up and chucking him a pair of gloves from a nearby bench, “Don’t think I’m going to go easy on you just because you’ve got a pretty face.” And with that, you parted the ropes and jumped into the ring.

Chapter 2

tags:

@broco8 @nerd-without-a-cause @sebbbystaaan @mcubuckyandsteve @cutepiemimi13 @velvetwonderbucky

(strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you!) 

[hcazj]

made a cover for my whack af mchanzo nanowrimo 2019 novel. u can find it on ao3 via “finding you in the buckass of nowhere” lmao. prologue under the cut but after this i will be exclusively posting on ao3

PROLOGUE

The sun rises high into the sky, casting shadows on everything residing on the surface. Jesse gives a loud yawn before scratching his scrappy goatee and turning the page on a health textbook he was given by Angela by instruction of his residing commander. He didn’t know how the conversation had started, but during a debriefing on the latest mission in one of the meeting rooms, one of the punks on the Blackwatch team had decided to give Gabriel Reyes a run for his money and ask if he had a soulmate waiting back home. Gabe, of course, had laughed in that guy’s face. He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the entire world.

And just as he was laughing, something miraculous happened. The team was visited by none other than Overwatch’s Strike Commander, who not only served as a face for publicity stunts, but also was the head of operations. And the strike teams, hence the title.

“He better not.” Soldier: 76, better known as Jack Morrison, said as he practically kicked the meeting room door open with his boot. He looked pissed. And also had a stack of papers on him. It looked like someone forgot to get their morning coffee. “He’d have some serious explaining to do.”

There were a couple whispers across the table, a couple agents trying to understand the implications of what had just transpired. Jesse swore he saw some of his teammates starting to sweat. The band of Blackwatch agents saw Gabriel Reyes flash his most charming smile. The rascal could look good when he wanted to.

“Jackie, you’re backie. Not in blackie, though. I’m happy you’re openly talking about this, but didn’t we agree not to tell anyone? Also, hey, dinner at 8 in my room.” And then Gabe winked at Jack. Ew.

Jack sighed, crossing his arms, and not so subtly cueing to the assortment of medals pinned to the lapel of his cornflower blue coat. Subtle. He addressed Gabe. “Remember last night? Well, I’ve decided to become the possessive bastard you always wanted.” He gave an intimidating glance at everyone in the room. “How are you kids doing? I’m sure you’ve met me around. Though you probably didn’t think I’d be so involved with Gabe. Like, probably never expected in a million years that I was his soulmate. But yeah. That’s classified information, not a peep out of this room unless you want your life to being an even more visceral piece of hell.”

Someone gulped in anxiety. Someone sneered in ennui. But if Blackwatch owned anything, it was a pile of troublemakers.

Now, Jesse hadn’t been part of Blackwatch too long, but it never took him that long to make friends. Genji--Jesse’s best friend and second best troublemaker in Blackwatch history--decided it was his turn to say something. (Jesse liked to think of himself as the best troublemaker, but that was an entirely different discussion).

“And how are you going to do that exactly? Your boyfriend already has us running laps across the Mediterranean.” Genji sat proudly with his feet resting on the table, and Jack gave him a look of disgust.

Jack excused the moment of insubordination, and walked right past the table and into the arms of his lover. They shared a quick kiss after a moment of lingering in each others arms, much to the dismay of everyone else in the meeting room. And if Jack was good at anything, it was playing games with new recruits.

“What’s up, marido ? What makes my darling husband so sad?” Gabe said, combing his hair through the tufts of Jack’s pale blond hair. It was thin, very much unlike his own, but he liked to try.

Jack laughed, trying to materialize every ounce of theatrics he had stored in his body for this very moment. “My sweet love, I just don’t know how I’m going to live if you don’t assign your soldiers 50 more pushups each every morning before breakfast. They’re not super soldiers like us, but we must make sure they are raised right. They’re like our kids, to me.” Jack lifted a leg off the floor, like he was swooning for real.

Groaning broke out around the table, and Jesse wasn’t sure if his teammates were groaning at the obviously satirical display of affection, or at the thought of actually being assigned even more pushups every morning.

It was Gabe’s turn to laugh. “Aw, Jack. We’re going to have a conversation later on why you’re so touchy today. Let me kiss you goodbye, though.” He planted another kiss on his husband’s nose before resuming business as per usual. Jack begrudgingly peeled himself off of his husband, but not without greeting their personal pet project. He smacked the stack of autopsies in front of Jesse and gave him a wink, before ruffling through the kid’s hair.

Gabe cleared his throat, as the door shut. Radio silence. He looked at Genji, who was making paper triangle footballs to send flying across the room. Genji looked up at him and discarded the paper football into the recycling bin. Gabe swore, some of the people on this team had the attention span of gnats.

“Ok, amigxs. Before we get into the details of the upcoming mission abroad, Jack was serious about our relationship being confidential. Think of the absolute horror you would cause if the UN caught winding that I’m fucking their Strick Commander. Like, maybe it’s funny. Actually, that’s pretty fucking funny. Can I get a laugh track going here?”

Jesse was the first to start hooting and hollering. A round of applause followed. If Gabe getting laid meant a happy Gabe, who cared, really? Sure, it could cause an international scandal, but Jesse liked to take it a day at a time.

“Thanks, caballero. Ok. It might be the funniest thing ever, but let’s be serious. I don’t want to fire any of you, but if wind caught that I’m soulmates with Jack, that would probably raise some suspicions of nepotism. Now we all know that I’m a very accomplished man, with a great piece of ass too, but it could potentially mean getting the pink slip from the higher higher ups. And all of you would probably also be out of the job, since Blackwatch technically does not exist. Really. So please don’t, if you value your paycheck.

“Alright, anyways. Any questions before we begin reviewing these autopsy reports like a pack of lawyers from a video game?” Gabe asked.

Jesse McCree had a question.

He partially raised his hand like a kid in a classroom, but then put it back down as he was contemplating if he should ask it at all, but then fully raised his hand as he thought ‘fuck it’.

“Hey, son. What’s bothering you? No, I don’t have any Nature Grain bars to feed you right now, please wait until after the meeting,” Gabe said. That aroused another short round of laughter from the people at the meeting.

Jesse chuckled too, because he had actually asked for a Nature Grain before in the middle of a mission. But he had a question to ask, and that was very important. “Hey, so, uhhhhh. I don’t know if this is relevant, or important enough, but what in tarnation’s a soulmate again?”

And Jesse kind of knew too, but only vaguely, like the word ‘esoteric’.

Of course, ‘esoteric’ is a word that is used to describe when something is only understood by a small set of people. Like you could call string theory ‘esoteric’, because who the fuck knows what string theory is? But it comes around often enough that people have heard of string theory, if only by name. You could even consider the word ‘esoteric’ esoteric. That was kind of funny. But Jesse was raised in the pit of the South with a single mother, before he found himself living a life of crime. He reconsidered how esoteric the word ‘soulmates’ was.

Like ‘esoteric’, ‘soulmates’ was not a word that came up when Jesse was robbing trains for a living, nor running from the police after a shooting with an opposing gang, nor in the middle of jewelry heists in the heart of Santa Fe. ‘Soulmates’ wasn’t necessary by any means of the word, that word, necessary. But maybe while he had only heard it a handful of times, with no definition to attach to the word, maybe everyone else had.

He felt like he was the odd duck out, and that was hard to do in a group of mother fucking misfits. Like, come on, Genji was basically a fucking cyborg. Gabe had gone through that freak of a soldier enhancement program that probably fucked with his biology in ways Jesse would never understand. Moira, their resident evil scientist, shot floating orbs out of her hands in the middle of combat. What the fuck was that about? Did she hone the essence of Orbeez for the inspiration behind her primary weapon? Jesse had some real mother fucking questions.

And a lot of the times, he asked them too.

But out of all of the unprofessional and obscure questions he had asked in his life, and even just in his short stay at Blackwatch where he could ask some pretty weird things, he had never asked a question that just about floored so many different people all at once. It’s like, he asked the question about soulmates, and the question took the cake. It took the cake and ran away with the spoon and like, eloped with the dish. And fucked the moon. Jesse didn’t think there was a reason for everyone to look so scandalized, though.

Because questions didn’t take cakes, or run with spoons, or elope, or fuck.

Gabe had a face that betrayed emotions Jesse knew Gabe didn’t show often: remorse. Of course, ‘remorse’ kind of sounded like ‘Morrison’ and that was funny for 2 seconds. But it was downright scary. Jesse was the type of person that was always starting something.

2 days ago, he had snuck into the mess hall at 3:30AM to steal a bag of doritos. Last week, he got captured on a mission and had to be rescued from an abandoned warehouse. Yesterday, he accidentally passed a stink bomb so bad, Gabe started coughing and moved their weekly recap meeting outside. And it was raining, too.

“Kid, did you ever take a health class before dropping out of school?” Gabe asked.

Jesse didn’t know how to answer that. “Well, I know how my body works, thank you. Uh, but t’answer your question…. No. What’s that got t’do with soulmates?”

Gabe scrunched his lips, wondering how he could quickly remedy the situation. This is why they paid him the big bucks. Not the biggest bucks, but more than large enough bucks. “Ok, everyone settle down for a hot second. Jesse, I’m going to comm Angela for a textbook you can read. And you probably need some one-on-one lessons on other stuff--yeah, I know you know what sex is but what about STIs? That’s half the battle. How about taking a break this week and just getting through health class?”

“But boss--”

“Trust me, this is way more important.”

Gabe took out one of his comms, one that only a limited amount of people on base had access too. It was mostly used for emergencies, but other times, was used as a quick way to contact anyone on base.  

“Hey Angela! How are you? It’s Gabriel Reyes. I’m great and so is Jack-o’-Lantern thanks for asking. Do you have a this week to give some health lessons to one of our agents? I know you’re friends with our little Jesse. Great. Yeah? Perfect, please put that textbook on reserve. I’ll send Jesse down soon. Ok. Awesome. Over.” Gabe clipped the comm back into his belt. “Ok, anyone else skip health class?”

The room, for once, was a resounding silence. Moira raised her hand.

“You didn’t take health class, O’deorain? Aren’t you a doctor?” Gabe asked.

“Very funny, commander. I was wondering why you did not just ask me to prepare some lessons and generic information for Jesse, and instead contacted Angela Zeigler.” She brought a hand up to her face, and rested her cheek on her long purple nails that looked like talons.

“Hey, doc. You’re coming with us on this mission. You can help out later if Jesse wants.” Gabe sighs and turns to Jesse. “Alright, cowboy. Sorry to do this to you, and don’t let this go to your head, but I can’t just let you go gallivanting into a foreign country with no knowledge about your own body parts. Trust me. Soulmates isn’t something to mess around with. I know you’re stressed about it. Consider yourself on hourly while you lax away while hitting the books this week, ok?”

Jesse sighed and pulled his cowboy hat off of his head. He was disappointed he wouldn’t be going to Japan, but there would definitely be more opportunities for travel in the future. Filling the cracks in his education wasn’t something that he would have completely expected out of Blackwatch.

In fact, he was still reeling over getting fed 3 square meals a day. Being treated with any semblance or respect. Being valued not because he was probably the greatest sharpshooter of his generation, but for his personality and interests. Though playing old Hollywood flicks on movie night annoyed his teammates to no end, people stuck around and watched with him. And that was more valuable than ransacking a jewelry store.

“You can stick around, but I suggest getting around early since the textbook Angela has for you is several hundreds of pages long.” Gabe grinned, trying to whisk away Jesse’s problems.

Jesse replaced the hat on his head, and yawned as he stretched his arms above his head. “See y’all later, suckeroonies. Y’all hear that? I’m being paid to stay on base this week!”

More laughter from the gallery. Jesse got a few pats on the back. Genji flicked a paper football in his direction, and it smacked Jesse straight in the forehead.

“Text me” Genji said with a salute. Gabriel cleared his throat and held out his hand.

Genji sighed as he was caught red handed, and surrendered his stash of paper footballs. A beat passed, and Gabriel remained focused on Genji. Genji took the paper footballs out of the pockets of his sweatpants and handed those over too.

That Genji.

Jesse snuck out the door as the team started talking about the autopsy reports, and was off to find Angela.

And not to say he wasn’t disappointed at not being able to travel with the rest of the team this time, but he tried to stick to the silver lining: gorging on breadsticks. Sometimes they were stale, but hit those babies with an unearthly and disgusting amount of ranch dressing, and Jesse would eat them like there was no tomorrow. Being paid also wasn’t half bad. And getting his question answered certainly wasn’t that bad.

He walked past the kitchen, one of the larger living rooms, and some of the barracks before taking an elevator up a few floors to the right area. Why wasn’t the med bay in the middle of the building?

Angela “Mercy” Zeigler was one of Overwatch’s doctors. She was at the top of her field at a young age, and a dear friend of Jesse’s. While the two could not have come from more different worlds, they bonded over some obscure things like miniature scented soaps. Besides, Jesse got injured so much on missions, they practically had to become friends. Angela was huge on doctor patient confidentiality, but that didn’t stop her from chewing Jesse out every single time he came back needing a cast.

If taking health classes was urgent enough for Gabe to kick him off of the latest mission, it had to be some level of important. How important could the whole soulmates thing be ? The elevator dinged and he followed the path he knew by heart to Angela’s office. He knocked on her door.

“Come in!” someone called from the other side.

He stepped inside. The examination room was just like he remembered it. White walls, with neat stacks of papers and books sitting in the corners by a computer desk. He was always impressed by how Angela worked, nothing seemed to get by her despite the clear lack of organization she subjected her belongings to. “Angie! Reckon you have a moment to spare for an old cowboy?”

She looked up from the paper she was reading and instinctively scanned the length of his body. “What appears to be the problem, Jesse? Ah. You’re here so early. Health lessons?”

“Correcto-mundo.”

She stifled a laugh and motioned to the examination table. “Feel free to take a seat, I’ll set up one of the projects. I have time to give you a quick lesson today, but otherwise believe you are just going to have to read a textbook and call me with any pertinent questions. We should also have a quick quiz at the end of the week just to see if you have retained any information. Where would you like to start?”

Jesse started swinging his legs back and forth, and took his hat off to get comfortable. This would be the closest he’d ever gotten to college. “What the hell’s a soulmate, Angela?”

“Ah, yes. That is a fun topic. Let us begin.”

And that is how Jesse finds himself reading through what has got to be the densest book he’s ever laid his pretty brown eyes on. Reading this thing is like trying to breath in a chunky soup. There’s just too much going on for it to be possible, but some find a way to make it happen. Not many, but some. The sun, now past noon, has travelled lower into the sky during the course of the afternoon. He sits on a cliff by the Overwatch base in Gibraltar, after thoroughly being lectured this morning by Dr. Zeigler.

Jesse rolls over, book in hand, and takes a moment to look over the cliff he’s been sitting at the whole time. The sea beneath him crashes into the crook of the precipice, leaving sparkling moisture behind to glitter in the sun. Who needed to go to Japan for a mission anyways? He sighed.

He glanced back down at his textbook. Jesse swears he’s never read so much in his life.

The connection between soulmates has not yet been properly explained by the lengths of modern medicine .

Great. Just what Angela said.

However, there is one documented process that occurs between a pair of soulmates. When an individual instigates skin-to-skin contact with their soulmate for the first time, their touch will leave a mark in the shape of the touch. For example, if a person accidentally bumps into their soulmate and the two touch shoulders, the initiator of the touch (IOT for short) will leave a shoulder shaped imprint on the receiver of the touch (ROT for short). Though the receiver may not see the mark form on their skin automatically, they will automatically feel a connection to their soulmate. However, the IOT will not feel anything short of some shoulder discomfort during this exchange.

Individuals in Markwell’s case study report that a forming soulmate connection feels like being “stuck in a movie montage” (Markwell 40). The ROT will automatically reel through a selection of events from the IOT’s life, and thus, gaining a better understanding of their fated person .

Hm.

When someone first receives their soulmate marking, Markwell reports, “it is common to freeze up as the memories are being transferred from person to person” (Markwell 41). In order to seal the bond and make it permanent, the ROT must then instigate skin-to-skin contact with the original IOT. Otherwise, any received soulmate marks will slowly fade over time, though never completely disappear.

Soulmates do not have to be romantic couples. Some opt for friendship, or other types of relationships. However, the majority of soulmates do end up spending the rest of their lives together in some form, due to the depth of their unique connection.

It is possible for soulmates to never meet, because before initial skin-to-skin contact, there are currently no medical tools available that accurately predict the existence of a soulmate connection between two people. The next section is a photo gallery of soulmate marks .

Ok.

Some of these were pretty funny. There’s an image of someone with a neon purple pair of lips, indicating that their first contact with their soulmate was a kiss. It was so embarrassing Jesse laughed. On another page, someone just had an imprint of a dark yellow hand on their shoulder. That looked kind of cool. 

Next page.

Soulmate pairs with an incomplete set of soulmate marks are another story. Individuals that have received a soulmate marking, but whom are unable to reciprocate the marking on their respective soulmate, have a greater chance of developing anxiety or depression. Individuals studied have repeatedly reported feeling listless. This has not yet been thoroughly studied. Psychiatrists predict that this is due to a mixture of reasons.

Scary.

Jesse hoped that this would never happen to him. He hoped to god, the gods, the sky, the flowing rivers and the tall mountains. He hoped this would never happen. But fate had other plans for young Jesse McCree.

[storygirl000]

The Many Dates of Marinette Dupain-Cheng: Prologue

Summary: After Adrien proves himself a bad choice as a crush and she decides not to pursue Luka, Alya decides to get Marinette to sign up for a dating service. Though reluctant at first, Marinette eventually gives in, signs up...and gets far more than she bargained for.

(or, in which the author is about to indulge in far more crossover ships than what could be considered healthy)

Ao3 link

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Signing Up

“A dating service?”

Marinette looked at the website apprehensively. “Alya, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Look, girl,” Alya sighed. “Adrien sided with Lila-”

“He didn’t! He just doesn’t want to get in trouble with the rest of the class!”

“-no matter how much denial you’re in over it, you’ve already turned down Luka, and most of the other good boys we know are either fully wrapped around Lila’s finger or taken. This could be a good thing for you.”

Marinette twirled one of her pigtails nervously. “But what if I end up with a date and he’s a complete jerk, or a stalker, or-?”

Alya shook her head. “That only happens in bad sitcoms. Trust me, it’ll be fine! All you gotta do is sign up for an account. Simple as that!”

Marinette thought it over for a few more seconds, then sighed. “All right, I’ll do it. How does this work?”

Alya beamed. “Knew you’d say yes! And it’s all on the information page.”

Marinette nodded, then clicked on the link to said page.

The “Red String Teen Dating Service”, as it was called, was rather simple. For fifteen dollars, you could set up a month-long account – you would get a blind date every day for a month, then choose who you wanted to go on a second date with after the last one. If you were at all dissatisfied, they’d pay you back in full.

And who knows, she thought to herself. Maybe if I do end up getting a boyfriend this way, it would finally get Chat Noir to back off.

Her partner had started getting more pushy in his romantic pursuits over the last few months, insisting that she “owed” him a date for all the help he’d given her. She’d rejected him several times now, but he hadn’t backed down. Even worse, it was affecting his performance in their battles. She’s been meaning to talk to Master Fu about it, but hadn’t gotten the chance.

“Sounds promising,” Marinette said. “Oh! I should probably ask my parents first.”

Alya gave her a thumbs-up. “You do that, and if they say yes, we can start on making your account!”

Marinette nodded, then headed downstairs so she could ask them.

00000

Tom and Sabine had immediately agreed to let Marinette sign up for the service, once they checked to make sure it was legitimate. And so, after paying the 15 dollars needed, Marinette started writing up her profile.

“Let’s see...” she muttered, typing. “Name: Marinette Dupain-Cheng...age: 15...gender: female...height: 5’3’’...weight: 115 lbs...star sign: Libra...hometown: Paris.”

She leaned back in her chair and stretched. “Right, that takes care of the easy stuff.” She then moved to fill out the rest of the required boxes.

Physical appearance: Petite, slim Chinese-Italian girl with black hair in pigtails, blue eyes, and freckles.

Personality: Kind, artistic, somewhat awkward and clumsy, hates liars and bullies

Likes and interests: Design work (especially fashion design), baking, video games, Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, helping friends out

The kind of person I’m interested in: I just want someone who’s nice and sweet, who will listen to and respect me.

Alya looked over the profile and nodded in approval. “Nice. But I think you’re forgetting something.”

“What?” Marinette asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alya pointed at a pair of empty boxes near the top of the screen. “Your username and email.”

Marinette groaned. “Thanks for pointing that out.”

She quickly filled out her email account, then thought for a few seconds, going over various usernames in her head. Eventually, she typed in MariDC, her usual chat handle when talking with friends online.

“Looks like you’re ready to go!” Alya said, smiling.

Marinette nodded and clicked on the “submit” button. After a few minutes, the sign-up screen was replaced with a video, which automatically started playing.

A young woman with short brown hair, brown eyes, and black-framed glasses came into view on the screen, smiling.

“Thank you for using the Red String Teens Dating Service!” she said cheerfully. “Within the next few hours, you should receive an email containing the profile of your first prospective date and the time and place your date will be!”

She then held up a red paper heart. “Remember to print one of these out and pin it to your shirt so your date will know who you are! You can find a link to the PDF for it on our main page!”

With that, the video ended, taking Marinette back to the main page.

“What now?” Alya asked.

Marinette shrugged. “I guess I’ll print out the PDF and wait for the first email to come in. Until then, what do you want to do?”

Alya immediately grinned and pulled out her phone. “I found some great videos earlier that I wanted to show you!”

As Alya pulled up said videos on her phone, Marinette thought about what she’d just done.

She had thirty-one dates to look forward to, but she didn’t know any of the people she was going to date. They could be perfectly nice and kind...or they could all be womanizing creeps. Either one seemed like a possibility.

But who knew? Maybe this would be a good thing for her in the long run.

Maybe.

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A/N: Partly inspired by a Danny Phantom fic I found with a similar premise, partly inspired by the several different crossover pairings I’ve seen Marinette end up in, I’ve decided to write this.

I am open to requests for guys Marinette could date, as I only have six lined up at the time of this writing. The only two rules I have are 1) they have to be within a set age limit (14-17), and 2) I have to be able to realistically fit them into the setting (I might take liberties with this one, but no characters from post-apocalyptic works or the distant past, for example). I also might not use a character if I’m not familiar with the series they’re from. If you have any questions about the setting, feel free to ask.

With that in mind, the next chapter should (hopefully) be up tomorrow, so stay tuned!