#with the basement door looming in the background or something

[damiel-of-real]

daily deltarune #53

how did swatch become head butler when they suck at cleaning. all they do is sweep shit under the rug

[typing-catastrophe]

could you write a stanford pines x reader headcanon where the reader is an artist and always draws him and draws in his journals when he isnt looking? maybe he talks to the reader about the drawings and they get really flustered i dunno!!! <3

oohhh! yeesss, that's a great idea! thank you anon ^^ hope this is okay, enjoy!

1.2k words, no warnings --------------------------------------------------

Your little habit started out even before Stanford came back. Dipper saw you sketching in your notebook from time to time, and asked you to draw something for him in the journal. He handed it to you and pointed next to a text he'd written about some anomaly (maybe a Manotaur or the Pterodactyl). First you were unsure, how would you feel if someone randomly decided to draw in your sketchbook? But it actually seemed really fun, and you didn't want to disappoint Dipper. Also it was in the spirit of research and preserving observations. And honestly, what were the odds the mysterious author would ever show up again?

With that attitude you began, whenever you got the chance to, to doodle yours and the twins encounters with the countless strange phenomena in gravity falls into the journal.

Well, oops? Seemed like the universe decided that not long after you started doing so, it was the right time for the author to come back.

It wasn't a big deal really, Dipper kept the journal for most of the time and Ford told him that he liked the additions he made. You weren't sure if he only meant the notes Dipper added, or if he even knew that someone else drew the newly added creatures.

It didn't take long for you and Ford to get to know each other better and spend more time together. Literally everything about him was just so fascinating. From the way he talked about his dimensional travels, anomaly hunts and research, his interest in a shared hobby of yours (dd&md), to the way he held himself. And, even if you were a bit embarrassed to admit it, his looks.

You couldn't help it, he was captivating. So to no surprise, one day you found yourself sitting on the shack's porch, looking over at Ford standing in the yard, working away at something that was too bulky for the basement. You didn't even realise what you were doing until something startled you out of your thoughts and you looked down at your sketchbook, seeing a familiar figure on the open page.

And then it happened again, in the lab. He was explaining away, deeply invested in whatever topic he was rambling about, not really taking in his surroundings. You had started out just sketching his study, but somehow he turned out to be the main focus of it.

One evening you found yourself in the living room of the shack. Ford was sitting on the floor, which was almost entirely covered in graph paper. You had joined him while he prepared the next campaign session, the tv quietly proving some background noise. While he was franticly scribbling away sheet after sheet, you propped open your notebook and began sketching some of the characters that came to your mind. Ford's, Dipper's and your characters and some npcs you encountered on your travels. But looming over all of them, half hidden behind the dm-screen, the scheming face of the man before you took his shape.

The end of the evening was rather blurry, you remembered falling asleep on the floor and being carried to bed, half asleep in someone's arms.

"hmm thank you", is all you could mumble when you felt the soft pillow under your head.

"No problem, dear", you heard a deep voice chuckle.

-

When you thought about it the next morning, a smile crept unto your face and you kinda wished, you would've been more awake, so you could've enjoyed the moment properly.

The smile was quickly wiped off though, when you realised that you must've left your sketchbook in the living room, given that Ford probably didn't bring it with him last night. You panicked and jumped out of bed, stumbling to the door when your gaze was caught by something. Your sketchbook, laying on your desk. You exhaled, glad it didn't lay around for anyone to see. You took it into your hands and opened it to the last page you were working on. But instead of the drawing from yesterday evening, only the one before that stared back at you. Confused, you turned the pages a few times, examined it, maybe someone ripped it out? No, no remnants of a torn out page....

Then, it dawned on you. You left your notebook in your room yesterday. You didn't plan on staying or even going to the living room. God knows how you ended up there, but it definitely was without your sketchbook. Which could only mean one thing...

In record time you were out the door, down the hall and in the living room. Right in time to take in the scenery of Ford staring down at his campaign notebook, opened to the page of your drawing.

"Ahh!! No no don't look!", you jumped forward and put your hands over the drawing. Ford furrowed his eyebrows, looking quite puzzled.

"This? Oh I already saw it last night after getting you to bed. It is incredible!"

Your cheeks heated up. "Oh" was all you could utter.

"It was also you who added the depictions of the twin's adventures, right?"

"Uhmm" You didn't keep your passion for drawing a secret, but you also didn't make a big deal out of it. And honestly, the way Ford was always so indulged in his own mind, you didn't think he was paying much attention to what you were doing. Now you felt a bit stupid for believing he wouldn't connect the - admittedly - obvious dots.

"They really are marvellous. And this?", he gestured to yesterdays page "Truly phenomenal!"

You didn't know what to say. You weren't even sure if you could say anything at all. All you felt was blood rushing to the tips of your ears and a flaming hot sensation in your cheeks.

"I- well uhm, thank you", you managed to stutter "I uh, I actually didn't mean to- uhm, use your campaign book. It was a mistake, I'm sorry."

"You've got to be joking! It's the perfect addition!" Ford exclaimed. "Do you mind if I keep it?"

"Oh", his enthusiasm caught you off guard. "I-, I guess not. Actually, that would mean a lot to me." you admitted sheepishly.

"Very well then! Thank you, dear." He looked at you with a fond expression.

You were about to retreat back to your room, turning around ready to leave, when Ford spoke up again, the smile apparent in his voice. "I also liked your artistic rendition of the twins adventures. Anything else you want to show me?" You froze.

Your heart started beating ridiculously fast. Did he knew? Did he notice you staring at him while drawing? Your thoughts started racing, but came to a sudden halt when he leaned down. His lips were almost touching your ear when he started to whisper.

"Maybe another time." And with that he walked by you, leaving you to yourself.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated

a/n: if you want a second part with romance and/or where ford discovers the drawings of him, let me know! Have a nice day/night!

[sethshead]

For Hamas, being Muslim means supporting Hamas, and people who do not support Hamas aren’t Muslims. If you don’t abide by what Hamas tells you, you’ll lose your job or worse. To keep my father in line, ensuring that he would deliver only Hamas-approved Friday sermons and allow Hamas to use his mosque as a clandestine weapons depot, they arrested my brother and me at least ten times between 2016 and 2019. Sometimes they would speak politely, sometimes they would ask us to comply “for the sake of your sisters,” but always the threat of violence loomed in the background. And several times we were beaten and humiliated in front of our father. They beat him, too, once nearly blinding him.

He was forced to do things for Hamas; move money around, store things, keep their secrets.

As an imam, my father keeps the keys to the mosque and is responsible for safeguarding large sums of money that Muslims give as zakat, the mandatory almsgiving of our faith. Hamas members would take advantage of his duties and use the mosque to stash money, weapons, and equipment.

Sometimes they’d bring a large, wrapped-up prayer rug, which they said had been donated—except my father wasn’t allowed to open the rugs; only special volunteers were allowed to open them or transport the rugs in and out. My father had to open and close the doors and allow the sacred space to be used as a warehouse for Hamas. What choice did he have? It’s a bitter truth that Hamas thinks of mosques as the property of their regime and that they store weapons there.

Once there were big boxes that were marked as food aid. There wasn’t food inside, but something made of iron.

This is part of the tragedy of Gaza. While international activists praise the “resistance” and chant river-to-sea slogans, Hamas treats Gazans as expendable, exploitable cash cows on turf it runs like a mafia.

Not everyone who hosts a Hamas weapons cache in their basement is necessarily a volunteer. That’s what’s so heartbreaking about this. Israel must destroy these stores to defeat Hamas, but innocents will suffer from the loss of homes, houses of worship, schools, medical facilities, limbs, and lives. According to international humanitarian law, it is Hamas who put these people and their homes and neighborhoods in jeopardy; their blood is on Hamas’s hands. But they still suffer, which should earn civilians on both sides of this conflict our sympathy.

Meanwhile, Hamas’s depredations, the threats, persecutions, and executions against Palestinians who simply wish to live their lives, retain some semblance of independence, and avoid the religious fundamentalist meat grinder continues. Again: free Palestine from Hamas. And Israel. But first, Hamas.

[bennydwight]

TGAMM Season 2 One-Word Drabbles

I have a lot of feelings and a random word generator so have some unedited prompt drabbles.

(Mostly season 2 centric, but some could be more ambiguous)

Disturbance

Life goes on, nobody any the wiser, but Scratch can’t shake the feeling that something looming has irreversibly, ominously shifted.

(In the basement, away from prying eyes and wandering hands, an empty soda bottle gathers dust.)

Like

Scratch could forgive the hormones (eventually, as long as he was getting fed), but the minute he heard Molly admit she ‘like-liked’ the kid next door, they were all going to find out really quickly if ghosts could throw up.

Background

It’s sometimes easier seeing life from behind the scenes, never the main character but a helpful supporting role instead. Someone who can see the bigger picture without the singular, blinding spotlight.

(As Libby watches Molly storm back into the gym, Scratch nowhere to be found, she worries for the actors on this stage.)

Shape

Scratch’s malleable build brought endless humour to the family. (No matter what he turned into, he was always exactly the right size to fit in Molly’s arms.)

Victory

He’d done it. He’d gotten Molly to see his perspective, to ditch the ghost hunter forever and remain by his side, her closest friend and hers alone.

(The expressions she adopted when she thought he wasn’t looking didn’t make this feel like much of a win.)

Interface

Andrea truly was a child of technology. She controlled the world through screens, electricity and circuitry as a part of her as blood and bone. She’d seen the power her face commanded, and now, numbers and words blooming into functions and commands under her deft touch, the same power flooded through her fingertips.

Brainstorm

Darryl was no slouch at schemes. The ideas cooking in his head were brilliant.

(The ones he dreamed up with June were genius.)

Week

Monday. Move in.

Tuesday. Barbecue.

Wednesday. A haunted book shop.

Thursday. An invitation.

Friday. A dance.

Saturday. The reappearance of a lonely, aching void in the center of Ollie’s stomach. It never seems to go away.

Prey

Despite their shaky reputation with non-believers, the Chens are among the most highly respected ghost hunters in such circles as people who respect ghost hunters. It is their livelihood, their passion, their purpose. Without it, the Chens are nothing.

Ollie watches one of June’s more lethal traps snap shut and he winces.

(He’s never winced before.)

Right

Andrea’s parents send her to bed without supper. It’s an empty threat, after they’ve retreated to their offices for the evening she has free run of the house, but it stings that they made the effort.

(The right thing is not always the easy thing.)

Authority

The robe hangs off Scratch’s form like a death shroud, and the taste of responsibility leaves his mouth sour. With it comes the weight in his core, like his heart has somehow returned but twenty pounds heavier.

(He is heard. He is respected. He is obeyed. He is terrified.)

Climb

He is a creature of the night, of shadows and deceit, blinded and rattled by the brightness of the sun. He shrinks back into familiarity, but she is impossible to resist.

(Step by uneven, blundering step, Molly leads him back into the light.)

Descent

Then he shows up, and Molly turns farther from him than she ever had before.

(Her radiance flares like a sunspot and Scratch wants to be happy for her even as the darkness drags him back under.)

Cycle

The pressure has lessened, almost to nothing, but Molly still gets an excited thrill the morning she wakes up with blood on her sheets.

(It takes her less than a week before she’s ready to go back to being a child.)

Paradox

She’s amazing. She’s insane. She’s being manipulated. He is. She can’t know. She must. She’s innocent. She betrayed him. Ollie lays awake, staring at his bedroom ceiling.

(Molly McGee puts everything he’s ever known into question.)

Season

“I didn’t think ghosts could get hay fever.”

“Shut up and pass me the antihistamines.”

“Will these even work on you?”

“I’m willing to try anything at this point, and if you don’t gimme now I swear I will wipe snot all over you!”

Mine

Nothing is as vivid after the first memory fades, and Scratch wakes up some nights with a cloud of brown curls bobbing in a summer breeze, the phantom condensation of a cold drink cooling the ectoplasm of his palm, a familiar abyss of the same sensation he’d felt more potently more recently: the day the McGee’s left his house.

(He guards these sense memories jealously. Nothing could take them away from him again.)

[pacificgrimsarc]

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Grace was not a good girl, and Kosa knew that from the beginning. Rehab was a revolving door for her; she was in and out. Never stable. One moment, you thought she had it all together and even convinced yourself that she did—then a moment later, things fell apart. And the moment it switched often happened so fast that it felt like getting kicked in the stomach by a horse, the way it knocked the wind out of you just the same. Kosa had felt this more than once, more than she could count on her fingers, and yet, she still kept going back to Grace. The two of them slow dancing in rock bottom's basement.

She'd fallen asleep the night before this morning without her girlfriend in bed, or at least somewhere in the apartment with her, and that was something Kosa hated doing. If Grace wasn't locked inside under Kosa's watchful eye, Grace would escape. So Kosa would stay awake, despite exhaustion, to make sure Grace never left her sight. Last night, though, Kosa herself felt like she was at rock bottom, too—not reaching out and trying to pull Grace out like she usually was. Kosa wasn't sure how many more auditions she could fail before she pivoted from this sort of life and vowed to do something more grounded, like taxes, like her father. She'd cried herself to sleep.

And instead of trying to comfort her girlfriend, Grace had left. Kosa, deep down, in her slumber, knew that she was gone. Likely even dreamed of the moment that she left, because don't dreams parallel reality anyway when you're stressed? Kosa hadn't woken up, and that was a choice, too—just like it was Grace's to leave.

So, this Sunday morning, instead of meandering to the kitchen and making some grand breakfast like they always did in the movies where everything was going right, Kosa—in her half-asleep daze—set out to look for her girlfriend. Perhaps one last time. This would be the end of their relationship, Kosa swore. She couldn't do it anymore.

Grace always left behind a sort of trail whenever she disappeared, and Kosa drove along it, going through the motions. She only somewhat found it peculiar that their usually-busy neighborhood was quiet, chocking it up to it being early or families being at church. After about 15 minutes she found herself at the end of the trail: this familiar brick two-story house, shittier-looking than the others on the block, the black sheep. Garbage was strewn about the front yard and the cars in the driveway looked like they belonged in a junkyard. With her window only somewhat down, Kosa could already smell the booze and cigarettes wafting from inside the building. Nine times out of 10, Grace was here.

Kosa parked in front of the wasteland, slamming the door shut on purpose, thinking maybe it'd alert Grace (or anyone else, really) if she was sleeping inside. Brows furrowed, she looked up at the house, feeling somewhat more intimidated by it than she typically was. Maybe it was the silence outside, and the silence that loomed inside, that frightened Kosa. She opened the side door, knowing it was often left unlocked, and called out: "Hello?" And at the same time, someone had said hello back.

Then snarling.

Kosa, halfway inside, now shut the door behind her and hurried in. "Grace?"

By the time Kosa stumbled into the living room, it was already too late.

But Kosa knew it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Grace was dead.

Grace was murdered?

Wide-eyed and horrified, Kosa couldn't breathe. She fumbled backward, crashing into a chair in the far corner of the living room, trying to get a grip of anything. But she didn't scream. She didn't start crying. She just stared.

"You—you killed her," Kosa accused, eyes darting to the other girl now. And it didn't even matter that Grace, in the background, didn't quite look like the Grace she knew, but a skeletal, rotten version of herself. The bender she was on must have been bad, and Kosa abandoned her when she needed her the most.

Her eyes welled up. "What the fuck did you do, you junkie bitch?" she asked the stranger, breath hitched, a confused anger simmering. That was the logical way to think. That was the only thing that could explain all this. They were both high off their asses and it led to this. The one time Kosa didn't keep watch...

The scissors the girl held were pointed straight at Kosa. Though they were a whole room apart, she might as well have stabbed Kosa, too. | @someotherdog

@full-tiltboogie / mary esther & your choice of muse! / mary esther parties all night and sleeps all day, only to wake up to the outbreak happening in the living room of the trap house. after she kills the thing that tries to kill her, your muse happens upon them. it's up to you if your muse knew the zombie, if your muse didn't know the zombie but knew mary esther beforehand, if they're all three complete strangers, etc.

the scissors in her hand were so bloody that she might’ve thought they were actually made in that color if she didn’t know why they were red. the body in front of her had stopped moving, its face contorted in a way that turned mary esther’s stomach. she woke up minutes ago on the couch of some guy’s house, having spent the night there getting high and drinking copiously, much like she did most nights. what was unusual was the woman that stood in the corner of the living room, limbs twitching at random, her back to mary esther. groggily, she rose up on her elbow, eyes trying to focus on the stranger in the corner. “uhh… good morning?” mary esther said, forcing herself to sit up, swinging her feet onto the floor. the woman made a noise in acknowledgment, or at least mary assumed she did, before she slowly turned around.

the first thing mary esther noticed was the woman’s milky eyes. then her drooling mouth, a mixture of saliva and blood dripping down her chin. there was some sort of wound on the woman’s neck, right next to the shoulder, and the arm beneath it was unnaturally jutted out. it took a second to dawn on mary that the woman’s arm was twisted around at the elbow. her ankle was similarly broken, almost completely on its side. the woman, or perhaps the thing, screeched suddenly and it caused mary esther to nearly jump out of her skin. at the very least, off the couch.

now completely standing up and completely awake, the woman charged for mary. she screamed, stumbling backwards. mary esther fell over the side table, the wood painfully cutting into the back of her thighs. the lamp on top of it smashed to the ground, giving her a bed of ceramic shards and bits of glass to fall on. “oooowwwww.” she moaned, barely a moment to feel it before the woman was almost on top of her. mary scrambled back on her forearms, grimacing as the shards slashed against her skin. the woman fell down onto her stomach in her attempt to get at mary esther, one hand grabbing for her foot. she kicked out, connecting with the woman’s forehead and forcing her grip to loosen, which gave her the chance to get off the floor.

standing up, she kept walking backwards until she was up against the wall. eyes wide open in fear, she watched as the woman lifted herself off the floor, bending her knees and raising onto her feet in an acrobatic way that mary couldn’t quite comprehend that she was seeing. her hand slowly crept along the wall, sight still on the woman-creature, until she felt something stabby underneath her fingertips. grabbing onto the item, she realized it was a pair of scissors only when she brought it up in front of her to rush the woman and stab her.

mary esther hadn’t known how hard it was to stab someone until she actually tried. she had threatened creeps before, even once holding a kitchen knife to a guy named hector that she briefly hung around with back in vegas, but never truly tried. it was sort of surprising how exhausting it was. the woman kept trying to chomp into her, jaws biting at air as mary held her off with one arm while trying to stab her with the other. after a few minutes of tussling, finally the scissors connected with the unharmed side of the woman’s neck, and she expected the woman to just… fall to the ground.

she didn’t. she kept going. she kept trying to bite.

wrenching the scissors out of the muscle, another thing harder than she thought it was going to be, mary freed the weapon from the neck and instead tried for the temple. another few minutes of dodging snapping jaws, she was able to sink the blades into her head. the body finally dropped to the floor, twitching in little movements as it finally died.

standing above the body, her own was heaving with large inhales of air. sweat collected at her hairline, blood all over her hands and arms—she had to wonder how much came from her and how much came from her. the room was completely silent until there was noise to her right. instantly, mary esther turned her attention to the source of it, scissors raised defensively. “hey, fuck off!” she warned, stepping backwards a few inches. the situation most definitely looked super sketchy, a brazen murder at nine in the morning, but it was self-defense!

[tillman]

[House of Leaves - Mark Z. Danielewski / The Space Between - Christoph Frey / Anatomy - Kittyhorrorshow / Pathologic - Ice Pick Lodge / cs_militia - Kristoffer Zetterstrand / I Am In Eskew (ep. 8) / Silent Hill 2 - Konami / The Haunting of Hill House - Shirley Jackson]

I think its a kind of loneliness. 

Transcripts below the cut. 

God’s a house. Which is not to say that our house is God’s house or even a house of God. What I mean to say is that our house is God. 

[A screenshot of the game The Space Between. A lowpoly image of a door at the end of a dimly lit halway.]

And if we were to dissect a house, we would find ourselves a stomach throat spine and eyes and eyes teeth and sinew and dreams and memories and a mouth that will bite down

The houses that Burakh had locked up were literally in agony, their walls swollen with boils, their windows covered in scarlet mould. There were blisters everywhere; blood mixed with ichor was flowing from the chimneys... Thats how it was.

[A painting of a map from CS GO, militia as seem from outside of the normal boundaries. Across the top is an archway of marbled pink, under that is a house cut off by darkness overtaking the rest of the page besides a single blue tunnel running off to the right.]

These places have been with us since the beginning of time, he said. So-called haunted houses. The rooms where we step inside, and shiver, and quite impulsively we can’t wait to get out, because something - the dimensions, the acoustics - is so horribly wrong to us that we cannot bear to exist within it. We can build a cell consisting of exactly the right length and width and angles to elicit a response of horror and absolute despair in its inhabitant. Why does it never occur to us that the same might be possible in the construction of a street...or a village...or a town?

[A screenshot of the game Silent Hill 2. A blond man is staring at a window covered up by news paper. On the newspapers is written in what looks like blood;��“There was a HOLE here, It’s gone now.”]

“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against the hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.”

[A screenshot of the game The Space Between. A woman is sitting in the dark. In the background blacked out buildings with few lit windows are obscured by hanging cloth. The text “Sometimes walls don’t have to be out of matter.” is displayed on the bottom.]

It may grow angry. Its basement may fill with churning acid like an empty stomach. And its gorge may rise as it asks itself, through clenched teeth, "what did I do wrong?" It may grow bitter. It may grow hungry. So hungry and so bitter that its scruples dissolve and its doors unlock themselves.  While a house may hunger, it cannot starve. And it so in fever and anger and loneliness, it may simply lie in wait. Doors open. Shades drawn. Hallways empty. Hungry.

[A screenshot of the game Pathologic. The Polyhedron, a massive pointed structure looms above a field with scattered graves. Clouds circle the top of it as it pierces both the sky and earth.]

[palidan-sheep]

Messy rant about Until Dawn’s and the Quarry’s atmosphere and scares and which one I think is better. 

I’m an avid horror fan, I enjoy the thrill and anticipation for what’s to come next. I'm not such a huge fan of jumpscares but I can enjoy them.

For example, Until Dawn- I absolutely enjoyed it when Matt was looking through the binoculars(?) and the Wendigo decided to play a game of peek-a-boo. Also when Mike was exploring the sanitarium and walked out into a room and sitting right there, perched on a table like a lil good gargoyle was a Wendigo. Those were some pretty good jumpscares.

But I’m glad that The Quarry didn’t need such a heavy reliance on jumpscares. I don’t recall many of them too but I do remember the plethora of times where I felt like I had just witnessed a jumpscare.

The feeling of my stomach sinking to the bottom of the world, my blood running cold, the hot and cold flashes I got, having to cover my eyes with my hands. Countless other things that I can’t describe because whole fuck, the enter game had me sitting on the edge of my seat.

I loved the tension and suspense the game had and would trade away anything just to experience it again. It was so much fun and I absolutely love every moment of it. Even if some part were predictable, I adored it.

The motion-sensor lights in the scrapyard. Despite knowing that a werewolf was gonna crawl it’s way into the yard, my heart still sank when I saw the lights flick on form Dylan’s perspective, it felt like I was in his place tbh.

I absolutely hated the face-cam shots of Emma when she was on the island and recording herself. I had to look away form my tv screen because I dreaded the idea of something suddenly appearing right behind her or something just looming in the background, stalking her. Also we knew that something was up in the attic of the treehouse and yet I still had the shit scared outta me when Emma opened up the trap door and out popped Max.

I could kinda feel the severity of the situation at hand when Ryan was trying to free Jacob from the cells down in the Hacketts basement without freeing Nick. One wrong fuck up and oh boy, someone was going to die. 

I’ve seen a few people complain about the lack of jumpscares in the game and whilst some people want all the jumpscares, I think that jumpscares can often cheapen the vibe/experience because I have gotten kinda immune to them. Sure some will occasionally get me but if it’s a nonstop stream of them then I get use to them and no longer feel scared. I’ll use little hope as an example, it was just kinda nonstop and now I’m not even phased by them and I’m only half-way threw the game.

The Quarry gives off -* chuckles* ‘I’m in danger’- vibes. I knew something was bound to happen and yet I was still scared.

In conclusion- I enjoyed The Quarry’s scares and atmosphere more then Until dawns.

[shurisneakers]

shut in [4]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, threats

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: greetings everyone!! how are we all doing? i have nothing to say here tbh so anyway stan sam wilson being a lil shit whenever possible. 

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You hung up the call, trudging back to the house, discarding the battery along the way.

The air had a chill to it and there was an occasional breeze that went past, rustling leaves providing an eerily comforting background score. The temperature tended to rise as the day went on but nights were especially cold due to the abundance of trees. 

Even though the stress of the situation you were in constantly consumed all your waking thoughts, you still found the time to appreciate how beautiful your surroundings were. 

The last few days were barely memorable. Sam and you tended to stay out of each other's way unless your meal time coincided or you watched the local news together. The schedule had worked out favourably.

He wasn’t very hard to live with.

Most of the time.

His commentary and small jokes were never-ending but were not as unwelcome as you initially thought. It brought some much needed light into your otherwise dreary day. When it came to figuring out how to do laundry due to your now extended stay or whose turn it was to do it, things got a bit messy but were resolved quickly.

He used to disappear often for hours on end. You never concerned yourself with going after him to find out where he went, figuring that unless he was hatching a plot that led to your demise, he was entitled to his own privacy. He’d return a while later, calmer than when he left.

It was fine. Nothing to write home about. Neither of you were dead yet.

“What are you doing on the bed?” You were reconsidering your last thought when you walked into the bedroom to resume your self-interrupted sleep, only to find him face down on the sheets. “It’s my day today.”

“Just give me some time. I’ll be out of here soon enough.” His voice was muffled as he spoke into the sheets.

“You can take all the time you need tomorrow when it’s your turn.” You swatted at his legs, earning a grunt of chagrin from him.

“Go eat some soup and maybe you’ll calm down,” he fired back, unmoving.

“Today’s not soup day. Which you would know if you paid attention to our schedule. That we made. Together. The same schedule which says it’s my turn today.”

He groaned, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. “My back’s killing me. Just give me a few.”

“Why, what’d you do?” you asked curiously, letting go of his leg.

“Combat training. Took a few beatings, fucked up my spine.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It comes and goes.” Sam finally rolled onto his back, giving you a view of his face. His bone structure was amazing, even from quite possibly the ugliest angle you could have over him. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

You just stared at him as he linked his arms behind his neck, elevating his head to look at you. He had a small stubble that was starting to grow longer. You wondered if he would shave it. He looked good regardless.

“How’s your beloved?”

“Huh?”

“The person you keep sneaking around to talk to on the phone. I’m not your dad, y’know. You can talk to them inside the house, ‘m not gonna ground you,” he quipped, a small, teasing smile on his face.

“He’s not my lover. Just... an acquaintance.” You felt the awkwardness starting to set in after you trailed off. “Anyway since you’re awake, we need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What happened that day. We’ve been avoiding it but we need to figure out what went wrong. Or at least a clue.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, wincing as he sat up straight. “How do you want to do it?”

“Just talk me through how you got put on this mission and what exactly happened that day, I guess.” You took a place on the bed, leaning backward on your hand for support.

He nodded, delaying for a second to collect his thoughts before beginning.

“So basically-”

The sun was particularly relentless that day.  

The ringing bell above the door of his favourite coffee shop was a welcoming sound. The barista smiled at him in greeting, asking if he wanted his usual to go.

His park bench was empty as it always was. Sam liked to think of it as a small gift from the universe; the fact that it was perpetually unoccupied.

He liked to sit there and watch people’s day go by. His iced coffee-

“I don’t really require that much detail.”

“Patience. I’m getting there.”

It was arguably one of the most peaceful days he had had in awhile, and he was hoping to keep the streak going. Nothing seemed like it would phase him, not even the phone ringing, drawing his attention away from the scene in front of him. Caller ID didn’t trace who it was.

“Hello?”

“Wilson.”

Sam gripped the cup so hard he thought it might spill over onto his jeans.

“I told you not to call me, Ransone.”

“But honey we had such a good time last night,” he faux cooed, “You know I have needs-”

“I’m not getting involved in your stupid organisation, Vincent. I told you I’m done,” Sam broke in, not wanting to waste time listening to his stupid dramatics.

“Listen here, Wilson.” The swift change in his tone was looming, threatening. “You’re done when I say you’re done-”

“Wanna bet?” Sam took a sip of his coffee. “I thought we made it clear in Detroit that we’re done. Honey.”

He added the last part out of pure spite just to get a rise out of him. Much to his glee it seemed to work as Ransone let out a deep exhale before continuing.

“That was before we found out there’s a mole in my gang. I want you to kill him.”

“This is way below my pay grade. Have one of your interns do it. Your shitty murder warehouse hasn’t seen much action in a while.”

“This is Pierce we’re talking about. If he’s working for another organisation, his ass is going to be so guarded, these kids couldn’t wouldn’t even get past the gate. Besides, you know my murder warehouse is for special guests only-”

“Man, it must suck real hard to be you right now,” Sam didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence. He finished the last bit of the drink he had left, gathering his things before standing up. “Find someone else. I’m out.”

“You might want to reconsider that. We found him.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said steadily, grip on the phone tightening.

“I think you do, though. Had us fooled for a while there, thinking he’s dead. A little more research, some cash into the right pockets and boom! There he is, clear as day.”

Sam felt a chill go up his spine.

“He doesn’t know we know. We’re just keeping an eye on him for now.”

“If you even fucking think of touching him-” his fists were balled up, struggling to keep his anger from rising.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Ransone laughed. “I’ll just have one of my interns do it.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Ransone. It’s not somethi-”

“Do this hit and I’ll leave him alone,” Ransone interjected. “You’ve worked so hard to pull him from our radar, Sammy. It would be a shame if it all went to waste.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. Suddenly the day didn’t seem as bright as it was a few minutes ago.

“I’ll text you the details. You tend to leave me on read so I thought I’d make it more fun. Do you want the confetti with the message or the lasers-”

Sam just hung up the call, feet firmly rooted in his spot. He had no idea what he was going to do.

The notification of a new text alerted him. Pierce’s address along with the exact timeline of when he’d be home.

It was across the country. If he botched the mission on purpose, Ransone wouldn't be able to find him for a few days at least, much less reach him. He could go on the run-

‘Do it or he dies.’

His train of thought was interrupted by a picture that made his blood boil.

Especially when it exploded with the stupid confetti effect.

“Okay, basically he threatened you with something to go do the hit.” You didn’t ask him what exactly he was threatening him with and Sam didn’t really elaborate.

“Yeah. Didn’t leave me with much of a choice. He’s batshit fuckin’ crazy anyway, I knew he’d do whatever he felt like.”

“So you ended up going.”

Pierce didn’t seem to get many visitors. Not that anyone could be blamed, this guy was one of the biggest pieces of shit Sam had had the misfortune of meeting.

Over the two days he had staked out in front of the mansion to find out if this guy had as much security as Ransone had boasted of, Sam had come to the conclusive truth that no, he very much did not. He had a standard home security system which was lacklustre compared to the rest of the house.

Maybe he just assumed that being a senior member of the mob would garner some fear to his name. Dumbass.

He found the tall shrubbery surrounding the property to be out of the line of sight of the camera, and climbing it wasn't very hard. He landed softly on the manicured lawn, adjusting his gloves and checking his surroundings before pulling his gun that was secured in the waistband of his pants.

He removed the safety, keeping it close to him as he stalked through the front yard.

The red car parked at the side earned an eye roll from him. If he had one, there was no doubt there’d be more. He just had to find a basement or garage.

Walking around the house, he kept close to the wall, searching for any opening to the basement.

It didn’t take long before he found a set of stairs to the exterior entrance of the basement. He checked to see if anyone was around before making his way down them. The lock was unsurprisingly easy to pick.

The basement was mostly dark save for a few strategic lights placed to highlight the magnificence of his several race cars. The man was moved slower than the second coming of Jesus. The cars just seemed like an overcompensation.

The switchboard was not difficult to find. He pulled open the cover, glancing at the switches before turning all of them off, plunging the whole basement into darkness. If his security system was as outdated as Pierce was, it would have turned off along with the rest of the house.

“Oh, that’s why the cameras weren't working when I showed up.” Bits that seemed amiss were beginning to place itself together the more his story progressed. “I assume you entered the house through the window on the side?”

“Sure did.”

Your guess was right. He’s the reason why it was ajar by the time you arrived.

As soon as he entered he had his gun raised. Scanning the room as he went past, his senses were dialed up to eleven. If he was really under the protection of Serpentine, they were doing a terrible job. He had gotten in completely unscathed.

As he made his way deeper into the house, the sound of some movie playing became louder. But he had cut off the power supply to the house.

His eyebrows pulled together tightly into a frown, he made his way down the hall towards the sound. No one was in the dining or living room he canvassed.

Finally, Pierce’s silhouette became clearer. He appeared to just be sitting there idly while a smaller screen played in front of him. It wasn’t a TV, just an iPad.

If Pierce was asleep it would just make the job easier. Gun raised, Sam made his way into the room silently.

Pierce was still. Sam raised the gun, taking a step closer.

A floorboard creaked.

He immediately cringed, shoulders tensed as he came to an immediate stop. It seemed like forever as he waited for Pierce to wake up, to brandish a gun and try and defend himself.

He didn’t.

Taking a step to the side, Sam moved diagonally. Each one was slow. Ready for any sudden movements from his end.

He finally stopped in front of Pierce.

A bullet hole in his forehead. Eyes open. Chest still.

He was dead.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sam breathed out, lowering his gun. Pierce’s glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. He didn’t look like had been dead for too long.

A soft thud in another room made his head snap up. It was in the same direction from where he came.

He silently moved backwards to the corner of the room, hoping that the darkness was enough of a disguise as he saw someone stalking down the hallway.

“And that’s when you come in. Thought you were comin’ back to make sure he was dead.”

“I had just got there. Saw that everything was off, and just assumed it was a power outage.”

“What about you? How’d you end up there?” Sam had his legs crossed, leaning forward to listen to you.

“Ransone told me that there was a spy who was sending information out for nearly two years. Needed him gone and he wasn’t sure if his other agent would show up-” you mentioned to him- “I guess that’s you. Told me I had an opening at 8pm. When I got there, the CCTV was off. Found the window open so I just used that.”

You were replaying your memory, step by step to remember what exactly you had seen. 

“Heard the movie playing, found no one when I went down the hall. I saw the car keys on the island, which came in handy later. Entered the room, pushed his head with the gun and he just slumped over like a damn rag doll. That’s when you made your grand entrance.”

“Got one chance to make an impression. Had to make sure I looked cool, emergin’ from the shadows and whatnot.”

“It doesn’t make sense though.”

“Ouch. Thought it was pretty legit, actu-”

“No, no-” you waved him off. “Not your entrance. The henchmen thing.”

He paused, mulling over what you said. “If he was working for Serpentine, he would have been more careful. Why did they show up after he’s dead?”

“I don’t think they work for Serpentine. If Pierce was giving them information, they wouldn’t kill him.” You had good reason to be confident about that. You thought you did, from previous assessments.

“Unless they were scared that he’d switch again,” Sam suggested. You looked up from your fidgeting fingers to him. “Didn’t want any of their secrets going back to Ransone. They got to him before we did.”

“Why’d they shoot at us then? If they killed him and left, why’d they wait for us to show up? Why did they try to kill us?”

“I think we’re ignoring the important thing here,” he paused. You looked at him expectantly, prodding him on. “How did they know we were coming? They should have killed him and disappeared but they expected us.”

You tilted your head. “Are you saying-”

“There might be more.”

“Pierce might not have been the only one,” you finished. “There are more spies.”

“Tipped ‘em off. Told them we were going to be there.”

“And killing us was just to poke Ransone with a stick,” you murmured, eyes downcast, fidgeting with your fingers again. “But that just seems random. It doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this makes sense, sweetheart.” Sam scoffed, leaning back again.

“We’re missing something. There’s something wrong.” You looked at him. “If it’s just a random attack, why did they release our face to the whole fuckin’ country? Why are they specifically targeting us?”

“Finishing what they started. Covering all their tracks from that day. If we’re not dead, we’re a liability.”

“What if it’s not Serpentine at all? What if it’s another gang?”

“Serpentine has the most motive.”

“We don’t know that.”

He looked at you incredulously. “I think there’s substantial evidence to suggest they fuckin’ hate us. Besides, they’d want me dead specifically.”

“Why?” you inquired, eyes narrowing.

He opened his mouth like he was going to explain but closed it a second later, leaving you guessing.

“Fine, but it doesn’t mean they’re the only ones who do.” You made a point to ask him later or at least conduct your own research into it. 

“Okay,” he said, shifting to lean on his elbows, “who else could it be? If Pierce was working for Serpentine and Ransone found out, sends someone to kill him, it’s essentially an attack on one of their own members. I’d say that's a pretty good motive.”

“I don’t know. Hydra doesn’t like us either. There’s Ten Rings too. But Serpentine just doesn’t work out.”

“How are you sure?” he asked. “You a spy for them too?”

You rolled your eyes at him as he raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t make sense. What if we’re missing something? Did we go through everything?”

“I just went through my entire story down to the most irrelevant details. Twice. Nothing’s missing on my end.” He pushed himself off the bed, taking a long stretch before looking back at you.

“I think we should do it again. Just to make sure.” You rotated your torso to look at him. “We can figure it out-”

“You’re going to lose your mind if you keep at this any longer for today. Take a break.”

“I can’t take this lightly. Everyone’s out there looking for us and there is no one we can trust-”

“And going through our stories for the third time today is going to solve that how?” He had his hands crossed over his chest like a stern parent.

“I’m sorry but our faces are probably plastered in every damn police precinct in the country,” you snapped, “And I think that us remembering something some stupid detail might actually help rather than, I don’t know, taking naps and eating sandwiches. So no, I’m not going to drop it. Because I actually want to get out of here.”

You didn’t mean to sound so angry with him. He had told you everything twice already and patiently answered questions that you had. You didn’t think he was lying. You had no way of knowing but you hoped that some sort of allegiance was being formed between you both.

There was silence for a minute, leaving enough time for the guilt to creep in when he didn’t fire back. It’s what you expected.

“I’m not asking you to drop it. I’m saying take a break,” he said calmly. “You’re thinkin’ enough for the both of us anyway.”

You let out a small exhale, forcing the edge to retreat from your voice.

“I’ll be back in a while.” With that he turned around and left the room. A few minutes later you heard the backdoor open and shut.

Great.

You massaged your throbbing temples, eyes closed. He was right. Your mind wasn’t clear and you had been at this for hours. You wouldn’t be able to think critically.

Or at all.

You dropped back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to your face. The coolness of the fabric felt nice.

You just let out a sigh, turning to your side to hopefully get some sleep.

_____

You woke up what seemed like hours later to a dark room.

It took your eyes a while to adjust stepping out into the hallway illuminated by the light in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice rang out. “Made you a sandwich.”

You rubbed your eyes groggily, looking where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a sandwich on the table. He sat at the seat adjacent to it.

“Thank you.” You contemplated sitting next to him for dinner. It would be a first.

In the end you just grabbed your plate, giving him a half smile before making your way to the couch. You settled on sitting on the floor instead, leaning your back against the foot of the sofa.

The TV was already halfway through playing Megamind so you just let it continue, mindlessly chewing on the bread. As far as peanut butter sandwiches go, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Wilson,” you called out sheepishly, eyes not leaving the movie. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t right.”

“It’s okay.”

How he let go of it so easily was beyond you. The sandwich was surprising too, but you took it, not wanting to change his mind. He couldn’t have poisoned it. You had checked his stuff.

You sat in silence for the rest of the movie. Your mind kept slipping in and out of thought but it was a comfortable atmosphere you found yourself in.

After the credits started rolling, you went to leave your plate in the sink. Sam brushed past you, grabbing the blanket at the foot of the couch, launching himself onto the cushions.

“What are you doing?” you asked, puzzled as he snuggled in.

“Going to sleep?” He tilted his head to look at you.

“Use the bed.”

“It’s your turn today.”

“Your back’s fucked up. I’ll take the couch.”

He didn’t budge.

“Go on.” You mentioned to the room with a shrug of your shoulder.

“You’re not going to let me argue, are you?”

You pressed your lips into a straight line to hide a smile, shaking your head lightly.

“Well, okay.” He let out a small noise as he got up. “Guess I’m sleeping business class tonight.”

Sam walked past you, careful not to bump into you. You swapped places with him, making your way to the couch, readjusting the blanket that was haphazardly left there.  

“Y/N.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye, only to fully turn when you caught his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

You just nodded, tossing the blanket over yourself as he switched off the light.

Next part

[crimsinsky]

Sooo I might be obsessed with Jackie and Hyde dating without the Kelso intro... I wish you would write a story where Hyde and Jackie date without her having dated Kelso first. I would love to see Hyde introducing her as his girlfriend bonus if he introduces her to red and kitty!

I'm sorry it took me so long to finish and that it's so long, I got carried away.

Slight trigger warning- nothing happens but attempted non con by background character.

********************************************

The school was deserted for the most part and Hyde was over it. But Forman had to get stuck staying late to work on a project today of all days.

There was nothing remarkable about today, Hyde was just in a bad mood and if he could blame someone else then he’d take the chance.

He was down to counting the minutes that Forman said he’d be done but it was too late, he needed a smoke. He wasn’t stupid enough to do that out in the open at school, you never knew who would narc on you, but he had a pack of cigarettes in his pocket and a craving he needed to tackle.

He was heading off behind the bleachers, Forman would know to look for him there, it was where he always smoked when he got stuck waiting on him.

He heard a commotion, just what he needed his usual spot taken by some horny losers who couldn’t get a room.

“Stop it,” the girl said firmly.

“Come on baby.”

“I am not your baby and I said no.”

Never one to stay out of a fight, Hyde rushed forward.

“Get your hands off of me,” the girl shrieked.

“Hey,” Hyde pulled the boy off the girl and punched him in the face.

He went down hard.

“I think she said no,” Hyde loomed over him. He’d never even seen this kid before, but his blood was on Hyde’s knuckled and streaming down his face.

“Man whatever, she’s just a fucking tease.”

The girl came over and kicked him in the stomach, making him double over on the ground and wheeze.

“You’re a disgusting pig,” she said and started to walk away.

He wheezed, “You can forget about me driving you home.”

“You think,” she shouted before turning back and kicking him in the shins for good measure.

Hyde kept a reasonable distance but didn’t want to leave her out there all alone.

Nearing the parking lot she stopped walking and turned toward her savior.

Hyde got closer.

“Thank you uh… I don’t know your name,” she said shyly.

“Hyde.”

She snorted, “That’s not your name. No one would name their kid Hyde.”

He knew he should have been more annoyed but her change in attitude caught his attention. Though he was still a little annoyed, “It’s my last name.”

“Then what’s your real name?”

“Are you always this big a pain in the ass?”

“Usually yes, so what is your name?” She asked again.

He could have just walked away after she got to safety, but here he was playing 20 questions with this irritating cheerleader. “Steven,” he growled, “but my name is Hyde.”

“Was that so difficult?” Now she looked almost timid, “Thank you, Steven Hyde.”

There was something in the way she said it, the way she looked at him, the way she looked so small. She’d gone from kicking ass to joking, and now she looked not exactly scared of him, but definitely unsure. All his irritation with her melted.

He softened his voice, “Are you okay?” He looked her over, she didn’t seem like she got hurt but you never knew.

She nodded, “I’m fine, he yanked me behind the bleachers and everyone else was gone. I’m really lucky you were here.”

“Well, I don’t think he’ll try it again with you,” He tried distracting her with humor, “did you break a rib or something?”

“No, that’s too far to the side, I might have got his gallbladder though.” She said brightly as if she were simply stating that today was sunny out.

“Hyde,” Eric shouted from the parking lot.

“Hold on a second,” he told her.

He must be a complete God Damned idiot for what he was about to do. Well, Red did always say he was a dumbass.

“Took you long enough,” Hyde growled.

“Sorry mom, my partner nearly burned down the chem lab, it was stay late or fail the semester.”

“Whatever Forman, look can you drop her off at home?” Hyde gestured towards the girl watching him curiously. He’d told her to hold on so she would. Either way, she was curious about him.

Eric raised an eyebrow, “What have you been up to while I was in class?

“Fighting actually.”

“Yeah, that makes the most sense, but sure I can drop her off.”

Hyde ran back to her, “You want a ride home?”

“You’re seriously offering to take me home?”

“Well, you’re ride seems to have left for some reason.

“That would be great actually,” she said relieved. She hated walking home after practice. After school, she didn’t mind, but now it was a little late to be walking alone and with what just happened she didn’t want to be alone.

She followed him to the parking lot.

“So Hyde who’s your friend?” Eric asked. It was so rare that they ever saw Hyde talk to a girl let alone offer her a ride home Eric was not about to squander this opportunity.

“Uh,” he realized in their fighting over his name he never asked her for hers.

“I was wondering if you had any manners,” she said coyly to Hyde. “I’m Jackie Burkhart.”

“I’m Eric,”

Jackie turned to Hyde, “See how easy that was Steven.”

Eric’s face nearly split in two, “Steven, have you been rude?”

“You want me to hit you because I will.”

Eric smirked at him, a silent promise that he would bring it up again.

They got in and Styx started blaring from the radio.

“Styx really?” Hyde groaned at Forman.

“I’m driving, it’s my car, I pick whatever music I want,”

“Maybe Jackie doesn’t like Styx.” He was hoping that having ears that worked she would agree with him.

“They’re not bad,” Jackie said. “But I like ABBA more, they’re my favorite.”

Hyde rolled his eyes. “You cannot be serious?”

“I am, they’re amazing.”

Eric had a perfectly awful idea, this cheerleader seemed to be annoying Hyde and he was taking it probably because she was a girl. But his torture could go a little farther.

“Hey Jackie, some of our friends are hanging out at my house if you want to hang out for a while?”

“Really, who’s there?”

“There’s that foreign exchange kid Fez, Kelso, and my girlfriend Donna. We’re probably just going to watch TV but someone is bound to do something stupid.”

“Alright, it sounds fun,”

Hyde shot him a look that meant he’d kill him. Well, he hadn’t done it yet, so Eric didn’t worry about it.

When they walked into the basement they saw two boys trying to duct tape fireworks to a suit, and a redheaded girl with her head in her hands.

“Is everything okay?” Hyde asked Donna.

“I hid the matches but they’re still stupid,” Donna said without looking up.

“Hey, everyone this is Jackie,” Eric announced.

At that, Donna looked up.

“Oh thank God, another girl.” Donna was desperate for anyone who was not one of her stupid friends to talk to. “Please save me from this idiotic amount of testosterone.”

Jackie made a beeline for Donna and plopped down next to her, “You must be Donna, Eric talked about you on the way over.”

Kelso finally looked up from his firework suit.

“Oh my god she’s hot.” He jumped over to the couch. “Since you’re a cheerleader we should totally go out,” Kelso said.

Donna sighed, “I told you, stupid.”

“Why?” Jackie looked up at him blankly.

“Cuz you’re like super hot.”

“I know that, but why does that mean I should go out with you?”

“Burn,” Fez looked to Eric hopefully, “did I do that right?”

“You’re getting the hang of it buddy.”

The girls chatted and tried to ignore Kelso and Fez.

“We were talking about going to the disco in Kenosha, that seems like it would be up your alley.”

“Absolutely, when are you going? I will totally go.”

“Donna, really, disco?” Hyde asked, he hated disco.

“Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean we all can’t be seen in the only club within three hours for a night,” she shot back.

“But who are you going with? Like you shouldn’t go alone,” Kelso said trying to push himself into their conversation hoping to get an in with Jackie.

“Hmm, I’ll go with,” Jackie’s eyes roamed the three single boys landing briefly on each of them, and lingering a little longer on Hyde.

“Donna. She did invite me after all.”

“You can’t go with Donna, you have to go with a guy?”

Hyde smirked at Kelso not getting his way.

“Who said I do? And I don’t really know any of you, so Donna will you go with me and these boys can do whatever?”

“You know what sure, except Eric definitely has to go with us because of the car.”

“Because of the car? Really, is all I am to you a set of wheels.”

“No, just when we want to leave town.” Donna turned back to Jackie, “We’re going on Saturday,”

“Perfect. Do you have a dress we could go shopping before then?”

“That would be great.”

They hung out for a while until Jackie finally called her dad to pick her up before her curfew. “I have to get going, but this was fun,” she stood and headed for the door, “It was nice meeting everyone.”

Once she was gone it was like the volume dropped three decibels.

“So, looks like Donna has a new friend too.”

“Jackie’s cool, energetic like crazy but she’s cool. Though she did call me a lumberjack because of the flannel shirt.”

“How did you meet her?”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Eric grinned idiotically, “Our boy Hyde here met her while I was stuck in the Science Lab. Now how did that happen?”

“Get bent,” Hyde replied.

“Manners like that, no wonder she agreed to hang out here. She was totally swept away,” Eric kept egging him on.

“Some guy was hassling her and she was alone alright,” Hyde crossed his arms and went back to watching TV.

“So you swoop in and try to get some with heroic gratitude nice,” Kelso said.

“Hey, Kelso come here,” Hyde waved him over.

Kelso stood beside him and Hyde nailed him in the side.

“Sorry, ow,” he pouted.

“Say something like that in front of Jackie and she might do worse, she did to the guy that was bothering her.” Hyde suppressed a smile.

He didn’t smile, but still, the memory of her as little as she was, kicking the crap out of that guy, it made him kind of fond of her.

Hyde humiliated himself over and over, he didn’t know why he did it. He also didn’t know why he was going to this stupid club, other than watching Kelso get rejected that never got old.

But Red saw right through him and Kitty spent the next few days teaching him to dance. He wasn’t great but he could manage.

Plus he’d seen Kelso dance before. Hyde was practically Fred Astaire in comparison.

Hyde was waiting outside for everyone since Donna wanted to see Eric’s reaction to her in girly clothes.

He looked up when he heard a car door shut.

She was stunning. Gone was the cute little girl he’d found behind the bleachers, she looked radiant with her hair curled but loose ringlets framing her delicate face.

“Wow, you look beautiful,”

Her smile turned almost shy at the praise. “Thank you, you clean up pretty good yourself.”

“Yeah, well.”

Before he could say anything else Forman and Donna came outside and they were followed by Tweedle Dee and Dumb.

“What no flowers?” Jackie asked Donna.

“You asked me remember?”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right.”

“Hey, stop trying to steal my girlfriend,” Eric joked realizing he too didn’t have flowers for Donna.

“Don’t be so hasty Eric,” Kelso said. “Just see where the night takes it.”

Everyone except Fez hit or kicked him at once.

“Alright everyone in before my mom tries to get pictures.”

“I’m not sitting next to Michael,” Jackie declared.

“You take window, I’ll sit beside you, that work?” Hyde asked.

“Yes,” she agreed easily.

“Great let’s get in the car and go.” He desperately wanted to get going before Mrs. Forman found them all.

Kelso asked her to dance, which Jackie refused, she’d watched him dance alone on the floor, she wasn’t sure if he was going to hurt someone and she didn’t want to be liable.

Fez asked her next when she refused he and Donna went to the dance floor.

He was a great dancer, she admitted.

The truth was she didn’t want to dance with them, she was interested in someone else.

“Why aren’t you dancing,” Hyde asked her,

“I didn’t want to dance with Kelso or Fez.”

“But you want to dance?”

“Yes,” she said honestly. She had that timid look from a few days before and he couldn’t help himself.

He had after all spent days learning these stupid dances. Might as well use it.

“Come on,” He held out his hand and she took it immediately.

They danced closer than Fez and Donna did.

Jackie felt the rush of being so close to him electrify her skin.

“You’re a really good dancer,” Jackie told him.

“Thanks, so are you. So why weren’t you dancing before?” He wanted to hear it from her, she’d nearly ignored Fez and Kelso but put up zero fight to dancing with him.

“The right person didn’t ask me.”

“And I’m the right person?”

She smiled up at him, and his breath caught. “

You just might be, Steven Hyde.”

She annoyed him, but she intrigued him more. She was bossy and bratty, but she’d won over Donna and maybe even Forman. There was just something about her he couldn’t help wanting to discover.

“You want to go out sometime?”

“Like on a date?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, on a date.”

“I would love that, Steven.” Jackie stood on her toes and kissed his cheek gently.

For some reason, he didn’t mind her calling him Steven. It was weird that he didn’t, but something told him he’d have to get used to that.

A few weeks later

“Red, Mrs. Forman, can I talk to you for a minute?

“No,” Red growled leaning over the engine of the car.

“Sure, Honey what is it?”

“I just wanted you to meet someone,” He waved her over from inside the house, “this is my girlfriend Jackie.”

They’d hung out in the basement a few times but they tended to go off by themselves to get to know each other without the hassle of the others.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jackie said nervously. She knew how important the Forman’s were to Steven.

“Steven,” Kitty jokingly scolded, “you didn’t tell us you had such a cute girlfriend.”

“Don’t tell her that, she’ll get a big head.”

“Steven, I already know I’m cute. And thank you, Mrs. Forman.”

“See,” Hyde reiterated.

“Yeah, well I need to fix this cute carburetor,” Red went back over to the cruiser.

“Do you need some help?” Jackie offered.

“I think I need to go get my camera,” Kitty said rushing off into the kitchen.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Heart-Shaped Box 💟 6

Warnings: noncon/dubcon sex, obsession, possessive, breeding, sex pollen, spanking, oral, menstruation.

This is dark!Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: You accept a job as an au pair, but not all is as it seems.

Note: Okay so probably the last chapter until the weekend. I gotta work, I gotta go do social shit I’m not into atm, I gotta live my stupid life. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter. You make me so excited to write and all your encouragement and awesome comments and memes make it even better. Know that I am forever thankful for all of you and the energy you put into this series is just as important as mine! Love you all. <3

Leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

You weren’t allowed upstairs again, though you were no longer bound. You were brought your meals as usual and your pills. It didn’t stop. The undeniable longing. It remained even when he was touching you. When you were lost in your lust; writhing and pleading for more. And when he finished, he left you worn across the mattress as you lingered in a haze of desire and shame to sink into a fitful sleep.

Each day was the same as the last. A perfect predictor of the next. Even in your dreams, his hands were on you. It all blended together. You were slowly drifting away. Far from content, you were compliant. If it kept him from tying you up, from leaving you helpless to the unscratchable itch, you did it. Lied to your own mother, debased yourself for a sliver of relief, surrendered to him entirely.

You lost count of the days. You didn’t care. It didn’t matter. There was no way out. Besides, you were just as guilty as him. You let him use you. You didn’t fight, not hard enough. It was easy to smother your pleas with a single touch. To subdue your body with his. Maybe, you wanted this too.

You groaned as you rolled over. Your stomach hurt. Cramps. And your back was wracked from sleeping heavily on your shoulder. You opened your eyes and gasped at the figure standing over you. James watched you passively as you woke. You were still naked. Had been for a while. He hadn’t brought you any clothes.

He tore the sheet from around you as you sat up. His eyes narrowed and he sighed as he stared between your legs. You looked down. You were bleeding. Had it really been a month? You gulped and glanced up at him. He shook his head and turned away.

“Breakfast,” He pointed to the table as he strode past it. “I’ll get you something to wear.”

You watched him go and slowly got off the bed. You pulled the sheets from across the mattress and bundled them up. He returned as you left them at the corner of the bed. He handed you a pair of panties and a plain black dress. He didn’t look at you.

You took the clothes and went to the bathroom. You cleaned yourself up, searched out a pad, and dressed. He was at the table when you entered and you sat across from him silently. His fork scraped the plate as he shoveled back the omelet.

“I…” You stopped yourself before you could begin. Were you really going to apologize to him? You should be relieved. You didn’t want a baby; his baby. And yet, his disappointment worried you. His could barely conceal anger.

“We’ll try again,” He grumbled. “Eat.”

You picked up your fork and used the edge of it to cut out a bite of egg. You stared at the table.

“You still have to take your pills,” He said. “Don’t worry, I’m not afraid of a little blood.” You blanched as you looked up at him and nearly choked on your eggs. “I’ve read it helps with the cramps. Maybe the mood swings too.”

You rolled your eyes at him but stayed quiet. You ate in silence.

“I’ll have to up your dose though,” He said. “And you need to eat consistently. It’s wasteful and counterproductive.”

You let out a long breath and scowled. He was really annoying you. You didn’t want to think about this right now. Your uterus was slaking off quite painfully.

“You get a day.” He declared as he cleared his plate. “Now finish your breakfast.”

“Yes, sir,” You muttered. 

💟

You had one day. One day to lay in bed and try to ignore the cramps. You got your meals on time but James didn’t linger. For that, you were thankful. You couldn’t tolerate both your body and him at once. You slept heavily despite the pills and when you awoke, you were almost refreshed. Until you heard it.

The subtle metallic whine of the faucet and the spray of water as it pattered onto the porcelain. You sat up as James emerged from the bathroom. He wore only a pair of grey sweats and his biceps bulged as he crossed his arms. His jaw ticked as he stared down at you.

“Come on. Time to get cleaned up.” He said.

You blinked at him dumbly and didn’t move. He sighed and moved closer.

“I’m not going to tell you again.” He warned. “So hurry up. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

You frowned and stood. You stepped past him and he turned as he watched you. You yelped as his hand met your ass. He slapped you so hard you had to catch yourself on the door frame. He was close behind as you entered the bathroom, steam coiling from behind the shower curtain.

“Get in,” He yanked the hem of your night shirt. 

You pulled the cotton over your head and let it fall to the floor. You heard another rustle behind you and glanced back as his sweatpants gathered around his ankles. He tilted his head at you and nodded to the shower. You slowly slipped out of your underwear, careful to fold the fabric over the pad.

You stepped into the shower as James followed. You reached for the loufa and he caught your hand. “No sense cleaning up just yet,” He pressed himself against your back and you felt his arousal.

You dropped your arm and lowered your head. His hands ran down your arms and you shivered. His fingers crawled along your lower back and he gripped your hips. He pulled you back a step and kicked your feet apart. The water flowed down your face and you closed your eyes.

He guided his cock along your ass and prodded at your entrance. You arched your back and reached out to catch yourself against the tiled wall. He pushed inside you smoothly. You hissed at the ripple it sent along your spine. 

“See how easy it is to be good,” He growled as his metal fingers hooked around your shoulder, his other hand still firmly on your hip. “That’s all you have to do is behave.”

He jerked sharply with the last word and you held your breath. His pelvis slapped against your ass loudly as your wet palms slipped down the tile. He bent you lower as he drilled into you harder and harder.

“But if you’re bad…” He snarled. “You can stay down here for good.” 

You pushed your head back as you bit your lip. You hummed as the current flowed through you. As he plucked at your core so expertly. Your arms shook and your voice grew louder and louder. You moaned as his hand slid around your throat and he pulled you back against him. He had you on tiptoes as he rutted into you.

“Tell me you’ll be good,” He rasped. “Make me believe it.”

“I’ll be good.” You gulped out as the water rained down your face and chest. “I’ll--be--goooood.”

You clawed at his wrist as you came. Your entire body spasmed as you murmured. You leaned your head back against him as he slammed into you. His heavy breaths mixed with the steam and encased you in flames. He turned suddenly and pushed you against the tile, your chest crushed against the cool wall.

He grunted as he plunged into you. He twitched as his entire body rumbled and he swore loudly. He leaned on you as he came and his hand slowly fell from your throat. He shuddered as he pulled out of you and cum and blood gushed between your legs. 

You didn’t move from against the wall immediately, not until you felt the scratchy loufa against your arm. You looked over as James offered you the sponge. You pushed yourself from the tile and took it wordlessly. He pinched your ass as you turned to face the shower head.

“Mmm mmm,” He hummed. “I am starving. I think I’d like some bacon for breakfast.”

💟

Make breakfast; check. Wash the dishes; check. Wipe the table; check. 

Your roster of tasks was simple enough. You went about each under James’ supervision. He loomed in your peripheral as he watched you. His blue eyes were intent, wary. This was a test. He was waiting for you to slip. Just once and you’d be back in the basement.

Next on your list; laundry. Easy enough to figure out the machines. He showed you where the soap was and the softener. His gaze felt heavier as you bent to load the clothes into the machine. His hand grazed the bottom of your ass, your panties barely hidden by the short skirt he’d selected for you. He was quick to retreat as you closed the washer and grabbed your list once more.

“Um,” You reread the next bullet point. ‘Dust the office’.

“Well,” He intoned. “What are you waiting for?”

You shrugged and went back into the hallway. You found the duster with the mop and broom in the kitchen closet. He let you guide him to his office though you paused before it. You remembered that day he’d caught you in there. You hadn’t been nosy enough, you mourned.

“Go on,” He reached around you and turned the handle. 

He nudged the door open and waited for you to enter. You slowly crossed the threshold and glanced around the office.

“Top of the shelves get dusty,” He said as he passed you and sat behind his desk lazily. “Shouldn’t take too much, though.”

You started with the bookshelf and lingered on the aged photo. It was him and Steve, long ago. A war-era jeep in the background and several other nameless soldiers. You replaced it and continued on. The top shelf gave you pause; What to Expect When You’re Expecting, Pregnancy and You, How to Track your Cycle, The Science of Fertility…

You turned away and went to the mantle of the artificial fireplace. You dusted as you ignored James. When at last you went to dust his desk, you couldn’t avoid his gaze. You peeked up at him and he seemed all too amused by you. He sat forward in his chair.

“You’re doing well but… you’re awful quiet. I need you to answer me when I speak to you.” He said. “You know the rules.”

“Yes, sir.” You replied as you ran the feather over the luger. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” He smiled. “When we have guests, you may call me James, or Bucky if you’d prefer it.”

“Guests?” You lowered the duster and shook your head.

“Not to worry, that won’t be for some time,” He sat back and the chair groaned. “You should focus on yourself.” His eyes drifted to your stomach. “On your duties.”

You swallowed and went back to dusting his desk. You were quiet again and he cleared his throat.

“Yes, sir,” You forced you as you neared him. “I understand.”

“You must,” He caught your hand as you brushed over the side of the desk. “It can take some time but there are… means of assistance.”

“And…” Your heart began to race. ���If I can’t?”

He smirked. An unsettling smirk. “Let’s hope that’s not the case.” He let go of you and pointed to the corner of the desk. “You missed a spot.”

💟

Several days passed. Ticked off like tasks on your list. After the first day, James left you to work on your own. He’d check in momentarily but didn’t hover as he had. The front door was locked and the latch did not turn. You tried several times but found it as impenetrable as that below. 

And so, you went about your routine. Tedious and dull. As you got to the upper floor, you felt drained. You were tired of it. The same shit every day. Cleaning what was already immaculate. Tiptoeing around your keeper. You yawned as you entered the children’s room. A grim omen of his plans.

You sat on the lower bunk and held your chin in your hands. You had finally stopped bleeding. Your hips weren’t so sore and you felt somewhat normal. Normal? Is that what this was? You rubbed your forehead as you thought. You could feel the walls coming down. He was slowly chipping away at you; slowly taking what was left of you.

You looked up and saw the ballerina on her single leg, the dinosaur and his stumpy arms, exactly as you’d left them. You were so stupid. You huffed as you stood and knocked the toys over. The dancer fell and her foot snapped off as the dinosaur bounced under the bed. You kicked the ballerina again and grunted in frustration.

What were you doing here? Day after day of this domestic bullshit. You were going crazy. Crazy enough that you contented yourself with your hours spent above dusting and vacuuming like it was some prize. Crazy enough that you obeyed James without argument. Crazy enough that you let him use you over and over.

You stomped over to the shelf of teddy bears and swept them onto the floor. You tore the drawers out of the dresser and emptied them onto the fluffy rainbow rug. You dropped them one by one and jumped on them until they broke. You stripped the beds and threw the sheets onto the pile of wood. You ripped the heads off the plush animals and added to your collage of destruction. You stood out of breath and stormed over to the window and tore down the curtains.

“What are you doing?” The voice made your blood freeze. You asked yourself the same as you slowly turned around. James sighed as you stared back at him. “You know what this means.”

“I-- I’m sorry,” You gulped as you kept to the other side of the heap. “I was just--- James…”

“Get over here now,” He sneered. “If I have to drag you, it’ll be worse.”

“I’ll clean it up,” You pleaded.

“Oh, you will. But first, you will get over here.” He pointed just beside the bunk bed. “Now.’

“Yes, sir.” You whispered.

You clasped your hands together and hung your head as you stepped around your mess. He grabbed your arm as you neared and pulled you close. His hot breath singed you as he hissed in your ear.

“Bend over. Hands on the bed.”

You slowly bent and placed your hands on the bed frame. He was quick to tug your skirt up past your ass and your panties down. He tutted as he groped your ass and slid his fingers between your legs. He drew away, a thick silence strangled the breath from you.

“You’ve been a bad girl.” He said. “Not only have you made a mess but you’ve lied to me.”

“I didn’t--” Your voice cracked as he brought his hand down across your ass.

“You didn’t tell me you were done bleeding.” His metal palm left your skin hot as he pulled away once more.

“I… I’m sorry, sir.” You croaked. “I… I’m just… I don’t know.”

“Shhh,” He hushed you as he struck your ass again. “The only thing I want you to do is count.” He spanked you again your legs trembled. “That’s three.”

He brought his hand down again and you squeaked out a ‘four’. Each number came with more effort, more pain, and he didn’t stop until you were speechless and sobbing. He slipped his fingers under your collar and pulled you up.

“Knees,” He ordered you. You fell to the floor weakly. “Go on.”

He glanced down and you followed his gaze. The bulge in his jeans betrayed his excitement. To your shame, you felt your own slick along your cunt. Your hands shook as you reached out and unbuckled his belt. He watched your fingers as you nervously undid his fly. Your ass brushed against your heels as you knelt before him and you flinched.

You shoved his pants down, then his briefs, and he sprung out. You gripped him firmly and ran your hand along his cock. He stopped you, his metal fingers firm on yours.

“Mouth only.” He warned. “Make it good or I’m strapping you to the bed.”

He let go and you dropped your hand. You shuddered as you raised yourself on your knees. You hovered your lips before his cock and he poked you with it. You opened your mouth and took him slowly. Impatient, he jerked his hips and you gagged as he hit the back of your throat. You swallowed and forced yourself to take all of him. So deep you couldn’t breathe.

You slid back and then forward again. You spread your spit along his length and pressed your tongue to his shaft. He groaned and his hands rested on the sides of your head. You grabbed the front of his pants as you began to rock against him. You built a rhythm as your gulping created a sickening beat. 

He buried himself entirely and held you there as your head began to pulse. You struggled for air and you feared passing out. He glided out, only long enough for you to inhale before he slammed in again. You did your best to keep time with him, to try to measure your breaths, as you clung to his thick thighs.

He stopped again and pulled out entirely. He shoved you so you fell back on your ass and you coughed and wiped the spit from around your mouth. 

“Up,” He snapped as he stroked himself. “Now.”

You stood and he grabbed your shoulder with his other hand. He spun you around and pushed you towards the bed again. You ducked your head and barely missed the top bunk as he bent you over. His wet cock slid into you and he sighed. He thrust once and spasmed. He leaned against you heavily and grunted. His cum added to the gush of your arousal.

He shoved you off of him and you fell onto the bunk, your legs hanging over the edge. You heard the quiet snap of elastic, the glide of his zipper, and the clink of his buckle. You slowly turned over and reached down to touch the puddle flowing out between your legs.

“Great,” He shook his head. “You’ve gone and messed the bed too.”

You bowed your head. “Sorry, sir.”

“Sorry to me?” He put his hands on his hips as he turned to the room. “You’re the one who’s gotta clean all this up.”

[fletchphoenix]

First Impressions, Worst Impressions

High school Varigo AU? High school Varigo AU. That’s all I will say - I hope you guys enjoy it and if you thought the first one was slow burn,,,,you’re in for a treat <3

Also gives me a chance to show off my OC’s Jeremy, Isla, Elora and Zander! I love them all dearly. Anyway, onwards with the chapter!

TW - Strong Language (i think? I cant remember.)

------------------------

   From the second Varian woke up, he knew it was going to be a bad day.

  His alarm rang from under his pillow, him groaning and turning on his phone screen to shut it off, blinding light immediately shining straight into his eyes and leaving him frazzled for a second. He grumbled as he sat up, Ruddiger hissing in disapproval before sinking back into his slumber. Lucky bastard could sleep all day, but Varian? Nope. Varian had school. Brilliant. He’d gotten so used to being able to just lie in, not expected to attend for the last stretch of tenth grade after...the incident. Varian sat up and stretched, letting out a loud yawn before reaching to grab his clothes off the chair by his bed, it creaking in protest as he shuffled. Admittedly it was rather old - he might have to buy a new frame from Ikea or something like that. 

  He stumbled around the darkened room, reaching for the curtains covering his window and pulling them open to give him a little bit of light. He liked his room - it was in the attic, so he had a whole story to himself and it was quite spacious, able to fit two desks in his room. One sported his papers and various textbooks he’d used to keep up with school, and the other an old TV monitor along with a Nintendo Switch connected to it. He’d play on it a lot after Rapunzel got it for his birthday, the console soon becoming addictive during his extended absence from school. He’d played it every time he’d finished his work...no matter now, he thought. He had to get ready to return to that..horrible place.

  Once he was dressed in his blue shirt, a black undershirt and some jeans, he packed and grabbed his backpack and began to walk downstairs happily, sparing no glance to the different frames on the walls of the house. He trailed down the hall, opening the first door on the right and heading in quietly. In the kitchen stood Rapunzel, humming a small tune to herself and Eugene sleepily rested his forehead against the back of her neck and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. Varian sauntered in and dumped his bag on the floor, sitting at the table with a frown on his face. “Good morning to you too.” he muttered as Rapunzel plated his breakfast and handed it to him. “I still can’t believe you’re making me do this.” he commented as he ate.

  “Look, Varian..please give it a chance. If it doesn’t go well, we can go back to learning from home just..please. You promised you’d try.” Rapunzel pleaded, sitting opposite him at the oak table, the faint sound of a clock ticking filling the background of their tense conversation. Varian let out a groan and a sigh before reluctantly agreeing, turning his head away as Rapunzel cheered happily. He knew it was time for him to go back, despite everything that happened, but he didn’t know if he could. Sophomore year was rough to say the least and he didn’t know if he could even face his peers after everything that had happened to him. Still, a promise was a promise, and if he did this, Eugene and Rapunzel promised he could use the basement as his own personal lab, so that was a bonus. 

  “Okay kiddo, let's get you to school.” Eugene muttered sleepily, placing a kiss to his wife’s forehead with a soft smile as Varian followed him, his bag over his shoulder and sliding his headphones over his ears. He couldn’t really say he was excited - quite the contrary actually, dreading his return to the building, but he knew he had to do this for Eugene and Rapunzel’s sake. He just..prayed he wasn’t too far behind and that he’d be sat next to moderately decent people in his subjects. Last year, he was sat by Vex in English and she’d just bullied him the whole time, repeatedly calling him a nerd or short even though she was smaller than he was. He would hate to be sat beside her again, being as she made life hell for him. Of course there was no way she could’ve known what was going on in his life at the time, but it still sucked to have someone be a constant insult machine towards him relentlessly.

  He slid into the passenger’s seat, pressing the door lock and leaning back in his chair silently. Turning his head, he saw Eugene’s eyes boring into him, instinctively flinching back from him at the look. “Eugene..what are you doing.” he questioned, the man still looking at him with his lips tilted into a frown. Was there something on his face? Did he have a nosebleed or something? Had he offended Eugene? 

  “Kid, don’t feel pressured, alright? I get it’s been rough and a long time since you’ve been back to school, so if it gets too much for you, please just let me know and I’ll come pick you up. We just..we really hope you can do it. It’s what you need after being alone for so long.” he explained as he began to drive, opening the windows to let the August air breeze through the window and blow Varian’s hair around wildly. Varian shrugged and looked out the window, playing with the hem of his shirt quietly. He was sure he could handle it, after all it’s not as if he could just suddenly get killed on his first day! Right? Ugh, now that he thought about it, it was always a possibility and he could just spontaneously die on the spot in the middle of chemistry class-

  “V. I know you’re overthinking now. I can literally hear the cogs in your head going wild. Just relax, okay?” Eugene broke his train of thought, a slight smile on his face. “You’re gonna be fine, trust me, kid.” He reassured him as they pulled up outside the towering, intimidating building Varian knew oh so well as Corona High. His breathing started to quicken. Could he do this? He didn’t know if he could do this anymore, the mere thought of going back made him sick to his stomach. He doubled over in his seat, Eugene leaning over to trace reassuring circles onto his back and whispering comforting words to him. “Kid, don’t freak out. It’s just a building..okay? You’ll be fine. Trust me. Just breathe.” Varian regained his breath and nodded to Eugene, exiting the car and heading towards the looming building, fear building a deep, dark and seemingly endless pit in his gut. He took one last deep breath before his hands reached out, pushing open the immaculately cleaned glass doors and throwing himself into the fray.

  Immediately, he went towards his home room. From the look of the note he had, it was Room 256 with Mrs Ophelia Thorne. At least she sounded nice on the phone call, he recalled as he called to ask about his reintroduction back to school. He was apparently having an escort between lessons called Nuru, even though he’d insisted that he didn’t need that, having been to the school before. She persisted, however, saying that she’ll be able to ‘show him the changes around school’ and ‘be like a friend towards him’ as if he needed that. He’d agreed so he could get off the phone and go upstairs to continue with the work he’d started in his free time. It was on the old study of alchemy and, though research had been discontinued, he loved the sound of it. Transmutation fascinated him to no end, so the research never felt strenuous. However, he knew it wasn’t really that interesting to most. Still, he loved the subject with all his heart and would for as long as he lived.

  He kept walking down the halls, weaving through people before standing in front of Room 256, his hand moving to grasp the doorknob. He twisted it slowly and gently opened it, twenty or so pairs of eyes instantly fixating on him along with the chocolate brown eyes of a medium sized woman with matching wavy hair to the shade of her eyes. “Oh, you must be Varian! Welcome sweetheart, your seat is on the third row, second seat in! Next to Nuru and Zander please!” she cheered in her sing-song, upbeat voice. He could’ve sworn she was a princess if she wasn’t a school teacher, alas he walked to his seat, dumping his bag on the floor and sitting down at the desk. He looked to either side of him in silence.

  The boy to the right of him had clearly dyed, vibrant red hair and his eyes fixated on his phone hidden under the desk. His ears were littered with various piercing, the only ones he really noticed and recognised were the lobe, helix and industrial. His clothes consisted of a red and black sweater, cuffed jeans and some rather large boots on his feet, a black, denim jacket covered in patches hung over the back of the chair. He looked pretty cool, his name apparently Zander, according to Mrs Thorne. He raised his eyebrow, watching as the boy looked over at him and raised his eyebrow. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he muttered before turning back towards his phone. Varian’s cheeks flushed when he realised he was staring before turning away to look at the girl on his left, only to find she was staring at him. 

  The girl in question, Nuru, had a dark blue turtleneck sweater and a hair clip shaped like a star holding back a small section of hair from her face. She also wore a grey shirt and tights along with high top sneakers on her feet, coloured the same blue as the sweatshirt she was wearing. She looked at him with wide, orange eyes and a wide smile. “Hi, I’m Nuru and I’m gonna be showing you around. Well, I suppose you know that already being as Mrs Thorne didn’t need to explain..your name is Varian, right? That's a cool name. Sounds a bit like variable or variant. It’s unique.” she trailed off rambling, Varian’s mind losing it’s interest in her until she laid his timetable out in front of him. “Oh, so you have chemistry first with Mr Crick. He’s really nice - Zander’s dad, actually. And then you have Mrs Crick for English, but she just lets everyone call her Elora, her first name. Her and Mr Crick are married! They got married a while ago actually-”

  As Nuru went off on her second tangent about school, a smile made its way onto Varian’s face. Finally the day was starting to get better! Chemistry for his first period was like a dream come true, especially with Mr Crick. Though he was a young teacher, Mr Crick, or Jeremy as his mother used to call him, was very close friends with his mother before the incident. He could remember him being a sweet guy, albeit a little awkward and socially inept sometimes, but still a sweetheart. He always offered to give Varian extra work if he wanted it or to just be someone to talk to. Although Varian never took him up on the latter offer, it was nice to know someone other than his family cared about how he was holding up. It was nice he got married too - he remembered Elora joining him when he was invited over to dinner sometimes and their kids coming too. 

  The ringing of the bell in the hall made him rush to his feet, eager to get going to his lessons as Nuru took her time in packing her things up. “Can’t she just hurry up?” Varian murmured to himself as he waited impatiently for Nuru to be ready. As soon as she was, he bolted out of class and let Nuru pull him by his wrists past lockers and other students, a colourful and unique cast of characters. They’d walked past so many people, including Vex and a small, black haired boy dressed in a red hoodie that was far too big for him, but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest as he happily chatted to his friends. Varian took in his surroundings until Nuru abruptly stopped, him walking into her by accident. “Sorry-” he began.

  “Here’s your classroom. I’ll come pick you up at the end to walk you to second period, but until then I’ll see you later!” She called out as she began jogging away. Elated, Varian opened the door and stepped over the threshold, relishing at the sight of a proper lab again. It was the one thing he’d missed about school, having all the proper equipment here as opposed to the ageing equipment he was stuck with at Rapunzel’s house. He smiled widely at the familiar sight of a lanky, raven haired man leaning back at his desk. Varian ran over with a smile.

  “Hey Mr Crick!” he almost yelled, not realising how loud he was and the man flinching slightly. Varian bit the inside of his cheek, opening his mouth to apologise before the older man chuckled and shook his head. 

  “I already know you’re gonna apologise, so don’t. There’s no need. It’s good to see you back in school, Varian.” he began, resting a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder with a smile on his face before looking away to his desk, picking up a sheet of paper and scanning it. “Okay, so you’re next to Hugo.” he declared after a few minutes, gesturing to a smug boy sitting at a desk. Varian raised his eyebrow, thanking Jeremy before moving away to sit down beside his new lab partner. 

  “Hey there, hairstripe. The name’s Hugo. The pleasure is all yours.” the blonde said, looking at the onyx haired boy smugly. From the second Hugo spoke, Varian knew he was going to suffer this year, just like he had with Vex. Bleached blonde locks were tied into a ponytail, revealing an, in his opinion, terrible undercut underneath. Obnoxiously large glasses sat slightly tilted on his crooked nose, the eyes behind them an emerald green colour. He wore a moss green hoodie, a dandelion undershirt peeking out from underneath, along with baggy blue jeans and some sneakers that, just like Nuru’s, matched his hoodie. A thing that piqued his interest, however, was the boy’s prosthetic arm, sitting blatantly out on the table, Varian fixing his gaze onto it and tilting his head slightly.

  “ Oh, that little thing? Well, it’s my prosthetic after I tragically lost my arm in the accident that killed my parents.” Hugo explained, dramatically leaning against Varian with the palm of his flesh hand pressed against his forehead. Great, Varian was next to a theatre kid. Just what he needed. “Tragic, right?” Hugo commented with a grin.

  “Oh yes, oh so tragic.” Varian rolled his eyes and shoved the other boy off him, already ready to kill him. As much as he loved Mr Crick...why did he have to sit him next to the most dramatic annoyance on earth? As far as first impressions went, Hugo...really wasn’t making a good one at all. He glanced back over at the boy again, whose head was propped up by his right arm as he grinned at Varian. 

  “Well, aren’t you gonna tell me your name, hairstripe?” he asked, leaning slightly closer into Varian’s personal space, causing him to cringe. This was going to be a VERY long year by the sound of things. 

  “It’s Varian. And can you please stop calling me Hairstripe? It’s really, really annoying.” he commented, already annoyed with the boy sitting next to him. He really didn’t want his favourite lesson to be ruined by an inconvenience like him. 

  “Mmm..nah. I think I’m gonna keep calling you hairstripe. It sounds better than whatever you said.” He smiled and turned his attention to the front as Mr Crick began the lesson. Varian leaned against the desk and groaned in annoyance, resting his head on the table and shutting his eyes as the boy beside him kept poking him with his pen under the table. This was going to be a very long lesson. 

---------------------------------------

  By the time the lesson was done, he just wanted to go home. Hugo was literally just Vex, but less insulting and more genuinely annoying. Oh well, at least that was the only time he’d see him all week. Sure, it was his favourite lesson with his favourite teacher in the world, but at least he only sat with him for one lesson this week. 

  That was until Mr Crick started talking.

  “Okay class, we have a senior project, so I’m gonna be announcing the pairs!” Mr Crick declared as he brought out a list. Varian zoned out as he waited for his name to be called. Finally, he’d be able to work with someone else other than this narcissistic, rude, egocentric- 

  “Varian Ruddiger, you will be working with Hugo Atkinson!” 

 Varian felt his heart drop and Hugo’s face twisted into a smirk.

  Oh no.

  No way was he going to work with Hugo Atkinson on a school project, involving the other coming to his house regularly and talking in a close proximity out of school hours even though he hated the guts of the guy sitting next to him. He stood up as everyone started to leave, making his way to Mr Crick. “Mr Crick, you can’t be serious I-I can’t work with him! He’s annoying and-and don’t even get me started on how goddamn dramatic he is!” he began to rant before Jeremy’s hands rested on his shoulders. 

  “Varian, you’re a bright kid and, surprisingly, so is Hugo. You two will make a really good team just..please give him a chance. Okay?” he pleaded, Varian giving in with his arguments and nodding in submission. He didn’t believe for a second that Hugo possessed more than one brain cell, but hey, miracles can apparently happen, right? He reassured himself as he headed out of the classroom to find Nuru.

  Nuru who was currently insulting Hugo outside the classroom. 

  “Oh my god, Atkinson, you’re such an inconvenience-oh hey Varian! Are you ready for the best lesson ever with the best teacher ever?” she said with a smile, grabbing Varian’s wrist in a clamp like grip and pulling him along the hall, the students seemingly parting to make a path for them. Much to Varian’s misfortune, Hugo followed after them with his stupid, smug grin on his face. 

  “Heya hairstripe..so we’re together for the project? How about you come over mine tonight and we can start working tonight? I’ll pick you up at the gates if you want.” he said with a grin and a subtle wink, causing Varian to cringe.

  “How about you come over to my place? My sister will want me back, since..y’know, first day back and all.” he explained, praying Hugo would agree. Luckily he did and relented in his following, letting Nuru drag him along to the english classrooms. The smaller boy let out a relieved sigh, focusing on Nuru and picking up on sections of her incessant rambling, something he was shockingly used to now. 

  “Oh, he's a massive playboy, probably fooled around with most girls and boys in the school. He treats them like shit too - uses them till he gets bored, then moves onto the next pretty thing that he can find.” she rolled her eyes and let go of Varian’s wrist, him speeding up to match her pace. “Here we are. I hope you have a great lesson, V and I’ll see you later!” She ran off and, once again, Varian stepped into the class and was told exactly where to go. 

  The rest of the day went swimmingly. No Hugo..just complete and utter peace. Sure, he had Nuru to drag him along, but he’d met Zander’s twin sister, Isla and she was an utter sweetheart (he sat by her now in math). He’d also seen Vex in the hall a few times, but as usual she paid him no mind and just continued doing her own thing. Typical Vex behaviour. And now it was the time he was dreading - the end of the day.

  He made his way through the halls, his eyes focused on the glazed floor before arriving in front of the familiar glass doors and seeing a familiar, lanky blonde standing outside. He waved to Varian, a smirk on his face as the boy left the building. “What took you so long, hairstripe? I was thinking you’d abandoned me.” He asked, laughing as they began to walk side by side.

  “Got held up - let’s just go.” Varian muttered in response, kicking a rock across the sidewalk. All it was was a few weeks working together after school. It would fly by, right? He took one look up at the smirking blonde and frowned.

  At least he hoped so.

[sorashiro001]

BlueShift's Stream from Other Side of The Screen

POV you are a bored Twitch streamer and decided to scroll through your recommendation stream page on Twitch. 

A Freemanverse Casual-Competitive Gaming AU Oneshot.

You are bored. Not much of your favourite streamers were going live in Twitch and you need your daily entertainment. Sleeping is futile, so you decided to check on your recommendation list. One of the recommended streams caught your eyes immediately with their title.

  Day 1 of attempting to stream peacefully (VetExpert asleep, STFU)

BlueShift (5k viewers)

You remembered BlueShift, he was one of the top 20 AWPer in CSGO and one of the top pro players in NA Region. He then retired from the game to become a streamer after getting benched and replaced by his old teammate but quickly getting another attention when he showed up again in the pro-league scene, this time in R6S. Many of his fans weren't happy with his decision to ditch his old stage, but it was a refreshing starting point for some of his older fans.

Another name in the title also one of the reasons the stream caught your eyes.

VetExpert? That name echoed through your memories, reopening some of them. You remembered how enthusiastic your gaming friends were when you asked them about that name. Apparently, the username belongs to a prodigy at FPS games, from the first Counter-Strike and Call of Duty franchise to their latest ones, pulling out one-tap shots and out-of-box strats. The man also rumoured to be a genius in his academic days, getting his PhD at a very young age in MIT, yet you're confused why he threw his potential away and turned into a pro player instead.

You quickly shook those thoughts out and clicked on the stream, oblivious to the chaos awaiting behind the screen.

"Dagnabit, their Ash is blind as hell."  The familiar southern accented voice filled your ears as you watched the man, currently playing as Smoke, throwing his gas canisters to Bank Garage in Basement and watched as the yellow toxic gas filling up the area widely. Seconds later, Blue got three confirmed kills with his gas. "Poor whoever those two followin' that dumbass."

You could hear a crackling noise from the game's voice chat, this time it's from his squadmate; Hawkeye01.BMesa.  "TOUCH THE FINAL TWO AND YOU ALL DEAD TO ME!!!"

 Damn, he's one loudmouth fella-

And just like that, 4th round finally ended with the final two headshot kills and the game ended in Blue's team victory. You caught a glimpse of the last killcam and stared in awe as Hawk obliterated those last two attackers with Vigil's double-barrel BOSG shotgun in just two headshots. The voice chat erupted in cheers of disbelief or simply laughed along, while Blue chuckled in amusement and Hawk grunted in satisfaction. In the end, Hawk's Vigil stood up in the middle of his team victory screen as the MVP. Blue flashed the scoreboard, and you felt your jaw dropped.

Hawkeye01.BMesa got 17 kills and 0 death, followed by BlueShift.BMesa 3 kills and a single death.

This man got at least 2 aces in the match.

Holy shit, what kind of monster is Hawk-

Even before you finished your thought, a medium brunette-haired man barged into Blue's room and quickly threw himself into the streamer, knocking him out from the chair and let out a pained groan. The screen then shifted from the game's home screen to a full view of his room. The room's size isn't too big nor small, a Black Mesa esports jersey is hanged on the wall right behind him along with posters of his old CSGO team members and a single bed with a blue-orange sheet cover. On top of it, however, you could see another brunette, this time with short messy hair, was sleeping peacefully while wrapping his body in a puffy orange lambda-symbol blanket despite the chaos happening in there. A pair of black square-framed glasses sat on the nightstand beside the bed. You guessed he's VetExpert from the stream title alone.

"Ross, I'm still streamin' here-"  His panicky voice was interrupted by the brunette man's oddly-familiar hysterical laughter. The brunette man stood up tall and fixed his glasses' position, looming over the southern streamer while smirking, full of his ego.

"Who cares?! I beat your highest kills!!!" The man cackled out loud, his rattail-tied brunette hair swayed as he grabbed a beanbag chair and threw it on him.   "You fuckers finally witness my fucking pure fragging skills, unlike those cowards at last time major."

What does this man mean by- oh.

 He's talking about those 17 kills.

 He's that fucker Hawkeye01.

You quickly check the stream chat and witnessing a chaotic clash between two sides. There are the ones that spamming PogChamp and Popcorn emoji, and the others spamming random copypastas to "Ward off Ross' shitshow", while you and (maybe) a handful of people could only type "???" on it. There even Bits spams and multiple donation notifs with its TTS mostly consisting from "Ross get the fuck out, I'm playing Minecraft!" to "GORDOS YOUR BOYFRIEND GOT ATTACKED BY A FUCKING FIEND WAKE UP!"

 ...Wait, who's Gordos?

As if on cue, the short brunette haired man sat upright, rubbing his eyes while yawning widely, and effectively stop the current chaos somehow. Those two froze in their place, eyes staring at the short-haired brunette as he also staring back at them. The freshly-woke up Vet blinked twice before signing something, he points at them and formed his hand to make ASL fingerspelling of O and K with added confused expression. Both men went silent for a moment, then nodded in sync. It seemed to please the sleepy man because he went back to burying himself again inside his puffy blanket. The room went deadly silent, only sound of Blue's CPU fan could be heard.

You thought it was over, but you were wrong. Badly wrong.

From the background, you heard a loud fire alarm noise accompanied by panic screeching and angry screaming, sending both men scrambling out from the room. Between those muffled panic screams from outside the room, you saw another brunette, this time he's way bigger than other brunette men, busting down the door, grabbed Vet out from the bed with his blanket, then put him on his shoulder like a sack and ran out again. White-grayish smokes slowly seeping in through the door and filling the bedroom, successfully getting on your nerve. You quickly opened the chat again and found another two separate sides, this time in betting who's the one cooking and causing the fire (most of the name in the bets were either Dean and Antoine-whoever, you didn't know about them much) and some of them mentioned that they'd called the team's "Administrator" (or as the chat typed; @min. that's one strange username, you thought). As the smoke was getting thicker, you decided to spent your own Bits for the TTS to gain the chaotic chat's attention.

[privatepolar] is giving Bits x500: "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN PLEASE???"

The chat slowly sent fewer messages after that TTS message, saved for the bets and small amount of copypastas, but somehow it raised a red flag inside your brain.

What comes next almost short-circuited your brain cells.

[OwOGamer] is giving Bits x10: "Bet u r a newcomer to this stream. Don't worry dis 1 is milder."

WHAT DO THEY MEAN BY "MILDER"?! THIS ISN'T A SERIOUS THING FOR THEM???

[helpmeimdying] is giving Bits x50: "Yo should we tell them about how gordos obliterated ross with a crowbar?"

WAIT, WHAT THE FUCK?! ISN'T THAT SUPPOSED TO BE ILLEGAL??

[Ashe.R6] is giving Bits x100: "nah lets go with wayne chase tf out of dean for cussing in front of joshie (1/2)"

Oh, this one isn't sound too bad- wait why it's got split into two parts-

[Ashe.R6] is giving Bits x100: "then john tackled wayne to ground along w/ barney and antoine sandwiched them all (2/2)"

...You could feel your sanity slowly draining out the longer you listen to Bits TTS' robotic voice as if to mock you for being the only sane one here. You silently begging to whatever the ones that took your sanity away for a peaceful death.

The last thing you heard in the background was a sound of the fire department's siren as the stream came to a sudden stop.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, you subscribed to his Twitch channel.

Screw your sanity, you wanted to see more of the mayhem behind BlueShift's stream.

You lightly chuckled to yourself.

You've become the very thing you'd feared, and you don't regret it at all.

[shannaraisles]

Honor Among Thieves - Chapter 1

Lorna Lennox busted out of Kinloch Hold, survived the Blight, and just wanted to stay out of the Chantry’s clutches for life. Now she’s the Herald of Andraste, and people keep trying to kill her. Worst of all, the bodyguard Leliana found for her is all kinds of tempting. Is there really honor among rogues and thieves?

[Read on AO3]

Note - yes, I’m back! I actually wrote something! Amazing, innit?

Chapter One

"And what will you give me, little mage, for helping you to escape your gilded cage? This is no small thing you ask for."

"I don't have anything, but I will do anything. What do you want?"

"Mmm, now let me see ... Ah! I have the perfect payment."

"What is it?"

"Your life, pequeña. Do not lose it, or fritter it away on the undeserving. Live it, and I will consider the debt repaid."

"Herald?"

Lorna snapped out of the memory, blinking to look across the war table at the Nightingale. Her side was aching as she leaned one hand onto the rough wooden table, aware of the curious concern in the eyes of the other three who stood with them.

"Are you well?" Cassandra asked, frowning as she tilted her head to look closer at the elven woman beside her.

"I'm fine," Lorna insisted, straightening up despite the pain in her ribs. "Nothing a good sleep won't cure."

"This incident was too close for comfort."

Cullen looked agitated as he spoke - she could have sworn that was guilt flickering in his gaze as well. For all their shared past, she did not know the man any longer. The young templar she remembered had been twisted and broken, put back together inexpertly, and was now clearly trying to find his own path. That hadn't stopped him from outing her as a mage the moment he remembered who she was, though.

"How did they get through?" Cassandra was asking, an uncompromising tone in her voice.

"New recruits," Cullen said in a dull tone. "There is no means to check their backgrounds or motivation as yet. I am in the process of putting those systems in place, but it does mean our flow of troops is going to slow down considerably."

"Leliana?"

The redheaded spymaster looked grave.

"It is as Cullen says," she agreed. "They were local Fereldans, not the sort we have been looking more closely at. I have sent more agents out into the area around Haven to uncover if there are any more assassins on their way here."

"If I may," Josephine interjected, before anyone could restart the circular argument that had been going on for a little over an hour now. "I believe, Mistress Lennox, that you should remain under guard for the foreseeable future."

"I have things that need to be done, Lady Montilyet," Lorna objected. "I cannot stay in a gilded cage if we're to help the people and close the rifts. I won't be caged again, not willingly."

"I have taken the liberty of contacting an old friend who would be willing to join the Inquisition in the position of bodyguard," Leliana said, apparently ignoring this comment from the Herald they were supposed to be protecting in the first place. "He would be nothing more than a companion to you in your travels, but your life would be his first priority."

"Aye? And would he do as I tell him?" Lorna asked suspiciously.

"Probably not," Leliana said with a faint smile. "He would do what he is contracted to do."

"Contracted?" Cullen glanced sharply at the spymaster. "Who is this old friend of yours?"

"His name is Zevran Arainai," she told him easily. "He was once an Antivan Crow, and is now ... not."

"I have heard of him," Josephine added. "His reputation precedes him. He would be an excellent companion for the Herald on her journeys."

"And does the Herald get a choice in this?" Lorna asked acerbically.

"At this point, no," Cassandra said. "As much as I wish to keep you alive, I cannot be by your side at all times. These attacks have come in many places, most recently here in Haven itself. We need someone to be at your elbow, day and night."

"How is this not caging me?" Lorna demanded, annoyed with the way they all seemed to be in agreement without her consent. "I don't need a human man looming over me every hour of the day."

"He is an elf," Leliana told her. "And he is very good at what he does. I believe you have already met him once, during our visit to the Fereldan Circle during the Blight."

Lorna blinked, stared at her in shock. What will you give me, little mage? The smooth warmth of that voice she had never forgotten drifted through her mind once again. It couldn't be him, could it? The elf who had helped her to break into the basement during the chaos following Uldred's takeover of the tower ... was he the bodyguard Leliana had contracted for her?

"About so tall?" she asked, raising her hand a few inches above her own head. "Blonde hair? Tattoo on the left side of his face?"

Leliana smiled. "Indeed."

"I remember him," Cullen said, though his tone was pained. "Can he truly be trusted with the Herald of Andraste? He is ... very forward."

"If I want to fuck him and he wants it, I'll fuck him," Lorna told the commander bluntly, inwardly delighted by the sound of Josephine choking back a laugh. "There's nothing you can do about that, commander."

Cullen's brows drew together, but Cassandra stepped in quickly.

"Then you will accept this elf as your bodyguard?" she asked Lorna.

"Aye, he'll do," Lorna agreed. "So long as he knows the truth of all this. I'm no Herald of Andraste. I'm just incredibly unlucky."

"He will not worship you," Leliana assured her. "And he will be here within a few days. We have been in contact for some weeks."

"You knew there would be assassins coming?" Cassandra asked her sharply.

"It was not unexpected," Leliana said. "The methods, however, were unpredictable. I thought to have Zevran here as soon as possible. Lorna's injury is not something I am prepared to see repeated."

"Likewise," Cullen said. "I have raised security - no one will be permitted to enter or leave the village itself without the consent of at least one of the four leaders in this room."

"There you go, caging me again." Lorna frowned across the table at him. "You can't help wanting to lock up a mage, can you?"

"That is ... I didn't ..."

"These are precautions for your safety," Josephine interjected smoothly through Cullen’s fumbling to try and excuse his draconic regulations. "Once Master Arainai arrives and takes up his position, these restrictions will be relaxed."

Lorna bit down on the urge to growl, carefully not looking over at Cullen as he subsided in defeat. Instead, she pinned her gaze to Leliana.

"He had better get here fast," she said. "Our people are trapped in the Fallow Mire; I'll not leave them indefinitely on the whims of an assassin."

"He will be here," Leliana insisted calmly. "You should rest. That is the only way you will heal with our current supplies."

"Go to bed without supper, got it."

Rolling her eyes, Lorna turned away from table, pushing her way out into the chantry proper. She got halfway to the door before she realized that one of the templars guarding the door to the war room was walking with her. She opened her mouth to snap at him ... and remembered what she had just been told.

"Wonderful," she muttered, walking out into the chill air of Haven. "One bruised rib, and I'm back in the Circle."

[zen3to5]

J/H 4-27: Love, Wisconsin Style

And here we go - Season 4 finale!

I didn't know when I started this project just how I'd end Season 4, and it was tricky to figure out. The goal was, without changing anything about the end of Season 5 (there will be a few Season 5 scripts coming, but none past the halfway point of the season), to make the ending of Season 4 give more weight to Hyde's insecurity and paranoia about Jackie and Kelso there. Feedback on how well that goal was met would be most welcome.

(I should say that I like the end of Season 5 quite a bit as it is. But, this being a project all about finding connective tissue between two different points in the show's run, I went a little further with that here.)

FF.Net AO3

***

SHOW TITLE   MUSIC NOTE: “Whatcha Gonna Do” by Pablo Cruise.   INT. HUB - DAY   A sunny afternoon, but the Hub is almost empty – it’s still school hours. But there are two customers – ERIC and KITTY. Eric leans against the counter as he talks with his mother. “Whatcha Gonna Do” plays on the jukebox.   ERIC: So Mr. Hammond said it was fine for me to miss class, ‘cause I’m already getting an “A.” So just as you suspected, Mom, I am better than everybody.   KITTY: All I know is that my little boy was very brave at the dentist today. Wasn't he? Yes he was, my widdle snickelfritz.   ERIC: Okay, Mom, when a man reaches a certain age, the baby voice no longer comforts him. It urges him to kill.   The door opens. In walk DONNA and CASEY. Well, Casey walks; Donna nearly falls over her feet trying to get through the doorway. She’s giggling fit to burst, and a large cup is in her hand. As she stumbles, she knocks over a chair.   Casey rights the chair, steadies Donna, leads her toward the nearest table.   CASEY: Okay, let's get you some coffee. Nobody pukes in the Trans Am.   As they walk, Donna finally notices Eric and Kitty.   DONNA: (gasps) Mrs. Forman! Uh-oh, you look mad. What did Eric do? (to Eric) Bad Eric!   KITTY: Donna, why aren't you in school?   CASEY: No worries, I called her in sick. Told ‘em, “lady troubles.” No questions asked.   Donna starts to giggle again and loses her balance. Casey and Eric money to steady her.   ERIC: Hey, easy there, wobbles.   KITTY: (to Donna) Have you been drinking?   DONNA: I hope so. 'Cause if not, this whole place is a-spinning! Hang on boys, it's a twister!   She twirls her finger around and pivots on her feet, rocking back and forth between Eric and Casey as they try to get her upright.

MAIN CREDITS   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY   THE CIRCLE. “Bad Time” by Grand Funk Railroad plays on the record player in the background. Eric is related the events of the last scene.   ERIC: So, my mom and I were at the Hub getting ice cream, and we caught Donna with Casey, skipping school. And she was drunk. In the middle of the afternoon. It was like Sue Ellen on Dallas!   Pan to Hyde.   HYDE: (to Eric) You went to the Hub for ice cream with your mommy? (laughs) Why would you tell me that?   Pan to Fez.   FEZ: Hyde, the point is he went for ice cream. Without us! (to Eric) You cannot pick up a phone?   Pan to Kelso   KELSO: Hey, if we’re gonna burn Forman, can we hurry it up? You guys know I’m hiding from Jackie. The longer I stay in any one spot, the more likely she is to catch me, and then I gotta deal with her wanting to get married. TO ME!   The record player skips. Kelso jumps at the noise and bolts for the stairs.   Pan to Eric, who watches Kelso run upstairs before turning back to the Circle.   ERIC: Guys, my mom's over at the Pinciotti's right now telling Bob about Donna being drunk. You can't do that kind of stuff in the middle of the afternoon. It'll mess up with your... your... your thinking thing.   Pan to Hyde.   HYDE: Yeah, you gotta stay sharp, man. That's why I keep myself pure until 3 o' clock. (checks watch) Two o'clock. That's why I keep myself pure until two o'clock.   He lifts up his hand; his watch isn’t even on.   HYDE (cont’d): I'm not wearing a watch.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - DAY   A short time later. Hyde, Eric, and Kelso play basketball as best they can with the El Camino in the driveway. Kelso keeps shooting nervous glances down the street in both directions.   ERIC: (to Hyde) Hey, you know what? Donna getting busted is actually great for me, because now she's gotta realize what a jackass Casey is. And when she dumps him, I'll be standing right here with open arms and a gentle “I told you so.”   He mistakes Hyde’s frown for agreement.   ERIC (cont’d): Oh yeah, that could happen. After all, I made that girl a woman.   Kelso, dribbling the ball, bounces it into the hubcap of the El Camino. The clang makes him jump back and look around frantically. Eric puts a steadying arm on his shoulder.   ERIC (cont’d): Kelso, you know you can’t hide from Jackie forever. Shouldn’t you just talk to her about this?   KELSO: Eric, marriage is not a “this.” Marriage is not even an “it.” Marriage is the death of “it,” as in “doin’ it,” and me and my lightning rod in the pants have a lot more doin’ it to do!   Hyde takes the basketball from him, starts to dribble, looks down the road toward the Pinciotti’s house.   HYDE: (to Kelso) Hey, man. Here comes Jackie.   KELSO: RUN!   He shoves past Eric, rounds the El Camino, and cuts through the garage.   Once he’s gone, Eric and Hyde share a laugh; it was a false alarm.   ERIC: So, Jackie wants to marry Kelso. That’s gotta hurt, huh? Say, when you get them back together again, maybe you should offer to perform the ceremony.   HYDE: Not this time, man. I mean, marriage in high school? That’s too weird, man. I’m staying out of it.   Something over Hyde’s shoulder catches Eric’s eye. He strains to get a better look.   ERIC: Here comes Jackie.   HYDE: (scoffs) Come on, man. I’m not falling for that.   But it’s no false alarm this time: JACKIE marches right up behind Hyde.   JACKIE: Where’s Michael?   Her shout makes Hyde jump and drop the ball. He turns to look at her; she is one pissed off girl.   HYDE: He’s not here.   JACKIE: Oh, don’t you give me that! I know that idiot still thinks the upstairs hall closet is a good hiding place!   ERIC: (nods) Every game of hide-and-seek, ages 5 to 12. And he managed to get stuck under the bottom shelf every time.   JACKIE: Look, he can’t blow me off like this! He proposed, I heard him. (holds up left hand) And he is putting a ring on this finger even if I have to chase him all the way to Minnesota!   She tugs on Hyde’s arm.   JACKIE (cont’d): Steven, I need you to help me look for Michael.   HYDE: Excuse me?   Jackie nods to the El Camino.   JACKIE: He can’t go far on foot and his van can’t outrun your car. Come on, let’s go!   HYDE: Jackie, I’m not driving you all over town looking for Kelso. I don’t even wanna look in the hall closet.   JACKIE: (pouts) Fine!   She elbows past Hyde, goes around the El Camino.   Hyde shakes his head, turns to Eric. Before either of them can speak, they jump back at the revving of the El Camino’s engine. Jackie’s head sticks out from the driver’s side window.   JACKIE (cont’d): Move it or lose it!   ERIC: (to Hyde) Did she lift the keys to the El Camino off you?   Hyde pats down his pockets. His jaw drops.   HYDE: I taught her that move!   ERIC: You’ve created a monster.   HYDE: I know! And the worst part is, that was kinda hot!   Eric throws his hands up, shakes his head, and turns to go inside.   Jackie honks the horn. Hyde frowns at her, she scowls back, and he slowly makes his way around to the passenger’s side door.   CUT TO:   INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM – DAY   The aftermath of Kitty’s news relay. Donna sits on her bed, arms crossed, as BOB and JOANNE loom over her. Bob is in a rage.   BOB: (to Donna) What the hell’s going on with you? You’re grounded! No arguments!   DONNA: Dad, I’m not grounded.   BOB: Okay, well, then whatever you think is best.   Joanne rolls her eyes.   JOANNE: No! Not whatever she thinks is best. (to Joanne) You are grounded!   DONNA: Hey, You're not my mother! You have no say in what I do.   She stands, storms out of the room.   BOB: (to Joanne) Well, she’s got you there.   He shrugs and leaves Joanne shaking her head.   CUT TO:   INT. HUB - DAY   Late in the afternoon. The sunlight coming in through the window is starting to turn to evening gold. “More, More, More” by Andrea True Connection plays on the jukebox.   Fez and Kelso sit at a round table near the center of the floor, Kelso’s head jerking this way and that as he scans the crowd.   FEZ: Kelso, you seem tense. I think living in a home with so many siblings does not provide you with enough privacy to relieve yourself – if you know what I mean.   KELSO: It’s not that kind of tension, Fez. Being a one-woman man is one thing, but – but I can’t get married! I’m 18 years old, and way too hot!   FEZ: So just say so. Go on, be a man!   KELSO: That’s just it. I’m not a man. Which is why I don’t wanna get married! But... well, a lot of people don’t know this about us, but Jackie’s pretty much in charge.   Fez raises his eyebrows; Kelso doesn’t notice.   KELSO (cont’d): If she says she wants to get married, then it might happen! The only way it won’t happen is if I’m not around when she does.   Something out the window catches Fez’s eye; he leans for a better look.   FEZ: Here comes Jackie, driving the El Camino.   KELSO: RUN!   He throws himself out of his chair, sending it flying back to the door. He scrambles on all fours to reach the bathroom door, and we cut to:   INT. HUB BATHROOM – DAY   Kelso hurries inside, throws open the bathroom window, backs up just enough to get a running start, and launches himself cleanly through the window.   KELSO (v.o.): (laughing) Man, that was awesome!   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - NIGHT   An emergency confab. As Kitty ices a cake at the stovetop, Bob talks with RED and Eric by the island. BOB: And then I told Donna she was grounded, and she said no!   KITTY: (looks up) She said no?   ERIC: Can you do that?   RED: No.   BOB: I need your help, Red. I gotta get Donna away from that guy!   ERIC: Oh, Dad, you know what's good? Threaten her with the old foot in the ass!   KITTY: You know, that Casey. How could such a bad influence live in such a handsome package? Bad people should have a big scar and an eye patch so you could recognize them!   BOB: The problem is, you know, there's a point where your kids realize you can’t do nothing to control them.   ERIC: There is?   RED: (to Eric) No! Now stop listening. (to Bob) Bob, I don't wanna get involved. I've got enough problems with the fourteen kids who think they live here now.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - NIGHT   Immediately following the above. The El Camino pulls into the driveway. There is a dent and a long, red streak across the passenger side.   Hyde exits out the driver’s side door, and Fez and Jackie exit out the passenger’s side. Jackie immediately crosses to Hyde.   JACKIE: Steven, you get back here! We aren’t done yet!   HYDE: Yes, we are. When you ruin the paint job and take out a fire hydrant, that’s the end of El Camino privileges for you, young lady!   Something down the driveway catches Fez’s eye.   FEZ: Someone’s coming.   They all turn to look. It’s Donna and Casey, out for a walk-and-talk.   CASEY: So the guy’s trying to tell me that his Z28 is the same car as my Trans Am except for the decals.   DONNA: How can people be so ignorant?   The patio door slides open. Bob marches out, followed by Eric, Kitty, and Red.   BOB: I see you Donna! I see you!   DONNA: Dad!   BOB: Don't you “dad” me. You're not going anywhere, not with this guy. You're grounded again!   Hyde, Jackie, and Fez huddle together. Fez brings out a box of chocolate-covered raisins.   FEZ: (to Jackie & Hyde) Candy?   JACKIE: Please.   She helps herself to a piece.   DONNA: Dad, I'm gonna do whatever I want with whoever I want whenever I wanna do it!   BOB: We have to have a talk right now, Donna!   CASEY: Mr. Pinciotti, sir, let me just say you're making a lot of sense here, and I think that when I bring Donna home tonight, you two ought to sit down and really hammer this thing out.   Everyone’s on bated breath as they look to Bob.   BOB: (beat) Okay, that sounds fair.   Everyone but Donna groans together.   ERIC: What? You're just gonna let her go off with him?   BOB: What else can I do?   RED: Oh, good God, that's it! Everybody in the living room. (no one moves) NOW!   That does it. Everyone moves to enter the house. Red holds up a hand to block Jackie, Fez, and Hyde.   RED: Not you.   He enters the house. Bob, having been behind Fez, stays out with the kids. He takes a raisin that Fez offers.   Red sticks his head out the patio door.   RED: Bob, get in here!   He heads back inside, Bob in tow.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – NIGHT   Tough love time. Eric stands by the front door with Bob. Donna and Casey are on the couch, the reluctant center of attention. Red stands behind his chair, leaning on it as he yells.   RED: Donna, what has gotten into you? Skipping school, showing no respect for your father -   BOB: That's right!   RED: Shut up, Bob.   Kitty hurries in from the kitchen with a big snack bowl.   KITTY: Okay, here's snacks!   She sets the bowl down on the coffee table.   KITTY (cont’d): So, anybody need a drink?   CASEY: I'll take a rum and coke for the road.   ERIC: Hey, hey, buddy? A little tip? I think booze is what got you in trouble in the first place!   RED: (to Casey) How could you take this girl out drinking in the middle of the day!   CASEY: You know how it is. All the older girls were at work.   He chuckles at his own joke and jostles Donna with his shoulder. She doesn’t look amused.   ERIC: Can I say - this guy is not boyfriend material.   BOB: I agree. You're not going out with him anymore. You two are done!   DONNA/CASEY: No!/Alright.   They look to each other.   DONNA: What?   CASEY: You gotta admit, this has been a real hassle. I mean, it was fun, and you're a great girl, but let's just call it a day.   ERIC: Wait... you're breaking up with her?   DONNA: Casey, I thought you said you...   She looks around the room. She leans in close to Casey and drops her voice.   DONNA (cont’d): You know... you said you loved me.   CASEY: I have this thing where I say stuff I don't really mean.   DONNA: Casey...   CASEY: Look, Donna, I see what you're getting at, and I'm not that type of guy.   He pats her knee.   CASEY (cont’d): Mrs. Forman, let's say we rain-check that rum and coke.   He stands, pats Eric on the shoulder, and walks out the front door.   Eric looks to Donna.   ERIC: Donna, I'm... I’m really sorry.   DONNA: You're not sorry. You got exactly what you wanted.   She stands, moves to the kitchen door. She throws it open, knocking into an eavesdropping Hyde, Jackie, and Fez. They fall back toward the fridge as Donna runs from the house.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT   Eric is alone, brooding on the couch. He stands when he hears the door open. Kitty enters, with Donna.   KITTY: Eric, there's someone here to see you.   ERIC: (to Donna) Hi.   DONNA: Hi.   KITTY: Okay, can I get anyone a snack?   ERIC: Mom.   KITTY: Right, right. Have to stop doing that. (laughs)   She makes a quick exit. Eric and Donna look to each other.   ERIC: (beat) So, um... how are you?   Donna crosses to him.   DONNA: Humiliated. I'm such an idiot. I got dumped in front of the whole world. I don't... I don't even know what I said to your mom at the Hub and I hate that she saw me like that. What is wrong with me?   ERIC: Hey, nothing. Look, your mom left. Come on – you’re allowed to freak out.   DONNA: Everybody warned me about Casey and I fell for him anyway. He's such a jackass!   ERIC: I really, really wanted you to figure that out. Just not like this.   DONNA: Eric, I'm just... (sniffs) I'm so sorry.   ERIC: Hey.   He pulls her into an embrace. Donna nestles her head into the crook of his neck as she breaks into tears.   DONNA: I was so stupid!   As they pull apart, Donna brings Eric into a deep kiss. He just starts to give in when she pulls back and gives him a desperate look.   DONNA: Eric, we should be together.   ERIC: Wait, what?   DONNA: Let's just, like, forget all this other stuff happened.   She embraces him again.   ERIC: Wait...wait.   Eric pulls away.   ERIC (cont’d): Donna... I mean, if you come running back to me now, I... Donna, I can't be your second choice.   DONNA: But you're not! Eric...   He bows his head. Even as her tears come again, he won’t look up.   Donna turns, runs to the door. As she opens it, Kitty spills into the basement. She quickly stands and feigns confusion.   KITTY: Oh! Where am I?   She zips back out the door, and Donna follows.   BUMPER   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - NIGHT   Hyde and Fez inspect the damage to the El Camino. Fez’s candy box is balanced on the rim of the flatbed. Jackie paces up and down the driveway, her eyes fixed on the road. Behind his shades, Hyde rolls his eyes.   HYDE: Jackie, just go home.   JACKIE: No! I know Michael has to be here some time. This is the only place he can get popsicles without one of his brothers trying to push the stick up his nose.   FEZ: (nodding) It’s true. And believe me, that is unpleasant.   Hyde sighs, crosses to Jackie.   HYDE: Jackie, this is nuts. Shotgun weddings are for rednecks who knock up trailer trash and then get caught by her dad. Look, man, whatever you thought you heard, Kelso doesn’t want to get married. He’s not around because he doesn’t want to see you.   JACKIE: Yes, he does, Steven! He told me that -   HYDE: That he wanted to get married? Kelso? Michael “I didn’t know that firecracker would blow up the toilet” Kelso?   Jackie’s eyes begin to water. She searches for words and can’t find any. Finally, she shakes her head.   JACKIE: No. No, he didn’t. I got carried away, and I tried to control him, like I always do. (begins crying) But he wouldn’t even talk to me about it?   She rushes to Hyde and throws her arms around his neck. Hyde throws his own hands up in the air.   HYDE: Every time.   FEZ:  (to Jackie) Hey, he got the last two break-ups! Give someone else a chance!   Hyde gives Fez a warning look.   FEZ (cont’d): I know, I know. “Go home, Fez.”   He begins slinking away, makes it halfway down the drive, then doubles back for his box of candy. He shoots Hyde one last dirty look before taking off.   Hyde holds Jackie loosely by the arms and gently pushes her back.   HYDE: Jackie... come on, man.   JACKIE: (through tears) What kind of relationship is this when he tells me he wants to be together forever, then runs away as soon as I want a commitment? And after everything I put up with because he couldn’t get over that one kiss, when I never made him go through anything like that when he cheated on me. Well, enough is enough. I’m over him for good.   She wipes furiously at her tears. Hyde shifts on his feet; he’s skeptical.   HYDE: What did you want that kind of commitment for, anyway? You’re in high school.   JACKIE: You wouldn’t understand. Steven, you’ve only ever had meaningless flings. I’m not like that, okay? I want love. True love. And Michael and I have been together so long, that I just thought -   HYDE: Jackie, you’ve never been with anyone else. Even after the last time you two broke up, you didn’t see anybody, not really. Now, come on, man. You’re young and free now. Play the field. I told you before, you can find someone better than Kelso.   JACKIE: But Steven, I’ve never felt anything for anybody else.   HYDE: Anybody?   Jackie looks up from wiping her eyes. She sees Hyde standing right in front of her. We cut to:   JACKIE’S POV. She looks at Hyde’s chest, showing through the open buttons of his shirt...   At his mouth as he smacks his lips...   At his shades, as one eyebrow goes up...   END POV. Jackie grabs Hyde’s head in her hands and pulls him down into a rough, deep kiss. Hyde gives in, snakes his fingers through her hair as Jackie runs her hands up and down his body.   They break apart. Hyde coughs, adjusts his shades.   HYDE: Huh. (beat) Jackie, you’re on the rebound, and this didn’t take the last time we were here. If you’re just looking to get back at Kelso -   Jackie throws down the door to the flatbed of the El Camino and points.   JACKIE: Get in.   Hyde looks from the flatbed to Jackie. She holds up his keys in her free hand.   HYDE: Hey, you keep stealing my keys, it’s gonna stop being a turn-on.   Jackie gives him a look.   HYDE (cont’d): (laughs) No it’s not.   Jackie throws herself at him. Her weight sends them crashing back into the flatbed.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - NIGHT   Eric is in a chair from the kitchen table, turned to face the living room door. Red and Kitty stand over him, both furious.   RED: Let me get this straight: Donna wanted to get back together and you said no?   ERIC: I said no.   RED: You said no!   KITTY: (beat) Dumbass!   ERIC: Look, I have my reasons, okay?   KITTY: What could they be? What could they possibly be?   ERIC: Casey dumps her and she comes to me? Okay, I'm not a rebound!   RED: So you're too proud to take her back? And what do you have to be so proud of? You're not an athlete. The only smart thing about you is your mouth. And look at you!   KITTY: Red, Red, he looks fine! He's just so darn stupid! I'm very upset.   ERIC: Well, stop, okay? Because I already feel bad enough as it is.   KITTY: Well you should!   ERIC: Well, I do! I love her.   He stands, starts to pace.   ERIC: God, why do I always have to screw these things up, you know? Why does everything always have to be my way? That's why we broke up in the first place.   KITTY: Well, we've all known that for a year!   ERIC: Okay. Okay, I have to tell Donna how I feel.   He doesn’t move at once.   RED: Then go!   Eric nods, heads out the patio door.   Kitty leans on Red, and he puts an arm around her.   KITTY: Oh, Red!   RED: I know. We're never gonna get him out of the house.   CUT TO:   INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT   The lights are off, but the door is open. Eric runs inside.   ERIC: Donna?   No one answers. Eric steps inside, looks around.   Bob and Joanne enter. Eric crosses to them.   ERIC (cont’d): Oh, hello, Mr. Pinciotti, Mrs... I'm sorry, Joanne, I don't know your last name. I have something to tell you guys. I love Donna.   JOANNE: Well, she isn't here. We don't know where she is. (beat) And it's Stupack.   ERIC: Well, if it's okay, I'll just wait.   He sits down on the bed. Bob crosses to him, pats his shoulder.   BOB: Sure. I always liked you.   ERIC: Oh, thank you, sir.   BOB: But do me a favor. Don't play with her undergarments.   He and Joanne exit as Eric settles in.   CUT TO:   EXT. HUB PARKING LOT - NIGHT   Past closing hours. Kelso’s Samba slowly pulls into the lot. Kelso sticks his head out, looking left and right. He brings the van into park, gets out, and stretches.   Donna walks by, a knapsack slung over her shoulder. Kelso crosses to her.   KELSO: Hey. Where are you going?   DONNA: Bus station. I'm going to my mom's in California.   KELSO: Oh, my God. You're running away.   DONNA: I don't know what else to do.   KELSO: No, I know how you feel. I feel trapped in this town. There isn’t any place I can go where I’m not gonna eventually run into Jackie. And when that happens –   He hums a few bars of the wedding march, then mimes hanging himself.   KELSO (cont’d): Hey... hey, you know what? I'll drive you. We'll both go to California!   He slaps Donna on the shoulder and goes back to the van.   DONNA: Kelso, are you up for this?   KELSO: Hey, if the Beverly Hillbillies can do it, so can I.   Donna chuckles and nods.   DONNA: Great, let's go.   They both climb into the van. Kelso starts ‘er up, and they take off.   CUT TO:   INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT   Eric lies back on the bed. He plays with the pillows, twiddles his thumbs, and checks his watch.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY   MUSIC NOTE: Theme from “The Beverley Hillbillies.”   On the road for California. Donna sleeps while Kelso drives. Kelso glances over, sees that Donna is asleep. He reaches a hand back for her chest. She wakes up just in time to smack him away.   DONNA: Kelso! I'm not gonna tell you again!   KELSO: I was just reaching for my soda. Damn!   DONNA: I should have taken the bus.   END.

[commentaryvorg]

Danganronpa V3 Commentary: Part 1.7

Be aware that this is not a blind playthrough! This will contain spoilers for the entire game, regardless of the part of the game I’m commenting on. A major focus of this commentary is to talk about all of the hints and foreshadowing of events that are going to happen and facts that are going to be revealed in the future of the story. It is emphatically not intended for someone experiencing the game for their first time.

Last time, as the first trial began, the narrative continued to ignore the actual reason for Tsumugi’s apparent innocence, everyone generally played catch with the idiot ball to pad things out including several people who deserve better, and I started discussing Kaito’s really-not-that-gendered concept of manliness. Then suspicion fell upon Shuichi, who promptly clammed up in fear of revealing the truth to defend himself, just before we went to the intermission.

Monokuma:  “Try your best to nab the culprit. And believe me, that’s no lie. If I lied, it would shake the game to its very foundation.”

Yeah, you’re definitely not going to do that at the end of this trial, right?

But also, that’s precisely the point: Kokichi’s plan in chapter 5 and Shuichi’s reason for retrying this case in chapter 6 both revolve around the idea that proving Monokuma to have lied would render the entire killing game invalid and force it to end.

Maki is still being the one to drive the conversation in terms of accusing Shuichi. She’s just being pragmatic and has no time for any of this “believing in people” stuff; why would she?

Kokichi:  “Did it ever occur to you that Shuichi could have lied about setting the sensor? Hmmm?”

Kaede:  “A… A lie…?”

Shuichi:  “…”

And yet at the exact time Shuichi was genuinely setting the sensor and not lying about it, Kaede was setting up the camera and turning the flash on and lying about that. That’s probably what Shuichi’s freaking out about right now.

Kokichi’s claim that Shuichi never set up the sensor is so he can argue that Shuichi then used the sensor to set off the receiver in front of Kaede on purpose. But Kokichi doesn’t know the receiver had a power supply, so how does he think Shuichi managed to carry the sensor and the receiver around with him all day and not set it off accidentally just by moving around normally?

Kaede:  (I have to do something! I know for a fact that he’s not the culprit!)

Not an exaggeration!

I enjoy the way the podiums can sometimes move about during these trials, and this debate is one of the biggest reasons for it. Just the way it forces Shuichi into the middle of the circle so that everyone is staring right at him – particularly since Shuichi has such a fear about people looking at him with accusation and hatred in their eyes. This must be especially awful for him right now.

(I particularly like this one shot. Shuichi’s frozen up in the foreground, the background focuses on Ryoma, who’s speaking – but in the background there’s also Kaito, silently freaking out over the possibility that Shuichi did it. Kirumi, who’s much less relevant to anything right now, happens to be completely obscured by Shuichi thanks to the angle used.)

Shuichi:  “………………”

“Say something.”

That bit of white noise there is probably Maki again, being blunt and pragmatic as usual. (It’s fun guessing who the lines of white noise could be from; I’ll be pointing out some of the more relevant ones.)

Kokichi:  “Yeaaah, I mean, whatevs. I made a mistake! Big deal!”

Kiyo:  “You speak as if you knew that from the start… Even I was taken in…”

I can’t decide whether I agree with Kiyo that Kokichi actually knew about the contradiction in his argument from the beginning or not. Making the argument despite knowing it’s wrong is the kind of dick thing he’d do, but also I’m pretty sure that at this point he does think Shuichi did it? There is absolutely no indication that he was aware Kaede was the real culprit until that comes out.

And now Ryoma makes the argument about Shuichi turning the receiver off because he happened to learn that bit of information during the investigation.

This argument they put together here (that Shuichi did set up the sensor, turned the receiver off, murdered Rantaro when he went to the basement and then retrieved the sensor so that he could set off the receiver in front of Kaede to fake the time of death and give himself an alibi) is almost a completely flawless argument. It’s pretty clever how the case manages to do this – create a way in which Shuichi could have plausibly done it so that the only way to defend him is not to prove he didn’t but to force him to prove that Kaede did. And then everyone, even Kaede herself, ends up firmly believing that she did it because the evidence pointing to that is seemingly flawless, even though that’s also not the truth and the real culprit is yet another person that nobody will be aware of until they find new information at the very end of the game.

…I say “almost” completely flawless because there is actually an argument to clear Shuichi’s name without Kaede lying or confessing, namely that they saw the bookcase door closing when they ran into the library, proving that Rantaro had in fact been alive when the receiver went off. Nobody points that out in this trial, but even so, it’s almost a shame that that piece of evidence exists to make this current argument about Shuichi’s potential guilt not truly airtight. The writers presumably only put that bit in as a hint for chapter 6 that Tsumugi had just left, but even then that won’t be necessary to prove that she did it.

Kokichi:  “Nee-heehee… So the Ultimate Detective is the killer. What a plot twist!”

You’re not the only person who wanted that plot twist to happen, either, Kokichi. Good thing the other person who wanted it doesn’t exist anymore and got overwritten by an Ultimate Detective who wouldn’t ever kill anyone.

(Also, man, 53 seasons and none of the writers thought to try and do this plot twist, even though they apparently have a lot of Ultimate Detective characters?)

Kaito:  “Hey, you gonna say anything? We’ll all vote for you if you don’t.”

Kaito’s been interestingly quiet this whole time Shuichi’s been accused. This is the first thing he’s said since the intermission, and it’s not even specifically defending him. I might have expected Kaito’s belief in Shuichi to be strong enough that he’d have tried to defend him, but seemingly not. He’s probably been focused on trying to figure out why Shuichi would clam up when he’s being accused if he really isn’t the culprit – Kaito is always about trying to understand people.

Kaede:  (Why won’t Shuichi say anything? Is there… a reason he won’t say anything? … If that’s the case… then it’s all up to me.)

Kaede has probably figured out here that it’s her fault he won’t say anything, because he’s realised she did it and is terrified of admitting it.

Monokuma is having himself a little puhuhuhuhu in amongst the white noise of the debate where you have to lie. He’s probably excited to find out if Kaede will throw Shuichi under the bus for her own survival or not.

You know, Kaede, your lie would probably be more convincing if you didn’t dramatically yell, “I’ll turn this lie… into the truth!” before starting to tell it.

(Yeah, yeah, obviously she doesn’t actually say that out loud since no-one comments on it, but it still comes across as pretty unintentionally silly.)

Kaede:  “S-Sorry, you guys! I forgot to tell you something important!”

She’s also a really unconvincing liar. Shuichi will be much better at it than her when it’s his turn to lie. Plus, her lie is extra bad because it comes with the huge looming question of why the hell didn’t she mention this ten minutes ago when the receiver was first brought up as proof Shuichi did it.

Aaaa but Shuichi’s look of shock when he sees her lying for him, though. He’s probably been terrified this whole time that she’s secretly a horrible person who’s only pretending to defend him and will eventually sacrifice him to get away with her crime, but the fact that she’s willing to go this far to defend him and put herself at this much risk…!

Kaede:  “C’mon, would I lie to you guys?”

Kaito:  “That’d only screw yourself over. If we mess up, you’re dead too, y’know?”

And yet Kaede knows that this lie is all the more likely to get herself killed and that’s exactly why she’s telling it.

Kiyo:  “Or perhaps… you wanted to cover for Shuichi, even at the cost of your own life.”

Shuichi:  “…Huh?”

That’s the first sound Shuichi’s made since he was accused. It hasn’t been confirmed yet, but the possibility is occurring to him that Kaede is still the person he believed in!

Keebo:  “I cannot imagine why anyone would risk their life to lie on another’s behalf.”

Kokichi:  “Words from a true heartless robot! Emotions are only for meatbags!”

And yet you have an even harder time comprehending the idea of risking your life for someone else’s sake than anyone else in this room, Kokichi.

Tsumugi:  “Umm… I agree. I sort of can’t believe that Shuichi is the culprit.”

Yeah, of course you don’t, because you want everyone to eventually figure out that Kaede did it. Note how she doesn’t even present a specific reason for thinking this; it’s not like she’s been acting as if she believes in Shuichi especially strongly or anything.

Kaito:  “Yeah, this ain’t right!”

And of course Kaito believes in Shuichi! Even though he wasn’t speaking up to defend Shuichi earlier, he also wasn’t one of the people contributing to the argument against him.

Kaede:  (We can’t vote for Shuichi, because he’s definitely not the culprit. If we vote for him, all hope is lost… I won’t be able to save everyone…)

Again with her utter certainity. But she shouldn’t be so worried – she must know that even if she can’t convince everyone of Shuichi’s innocence with just her lie, all she needs to do is confess, if it comes to it. She should be absolutely certain that no matter how things go, this trial will never end up with everyone else getting executed, because she won’t let that happen. I guess by “save everyone” she means she’s still hoping to catch the mastermind at this point, and this whole accusing Shuichi thing is just an inconvenient detour she’s trying to drag everyone off of.

The way Monokuma twists the key into the keyhole when starting up a Debate Scrum is extremely reminiscent of Gurren Lagann. Given a certain someone in this game who is also extremely reminiscent of a certain character from that anime, I feel like this is probably deliberate.

I like that Gonta makes one of the arguments in the Debate Scrum. He wouldn’t necessarily need to, since there’s only five arguments for eight people on his side, but he’s contributing! He’s not as stupid as he thinks!

I’m playing on the Vita version, and one of the few notable downgrades is that it doesn’t have the voice clips of everybody yelling “This is our answer!” together at the end of a Debate Scrum. Which is a shame; I always thought that was a cool bit, hearing multiple characters work together to convince everyone else of the truth. Debate Scrums are a really cool idea in general to get more of the characters involved.

Kaede:  “And if that happens… Everyone will be executed… I definitely won’t let that happen, even if it costs me my life!”

Man, that statement of Kaede’s is telling. Why would it cost her her own life to prevent everyone being executed, unless…? It can be passed off as misguided protagonist determination and her temporarily forgetting how things work because she’s so worked up, but it’s more than that.

Shuichi:  “Kaede…”

Look at Shuichi finally saying something for the first time since he was accused, and it’s when he hears that Kaede is willing to die for her crime. She is not the horrible backstabber he was afraid she might be; she is still exactly the brave, selfless person he believed in. It’s this that makes him finally able to face the truth.

Kaito:  “Yeah, it’s just like Kaede said! Shuichi ain’t the culprit!”

Gonta:  “Gonta believe in Shuichi, too! Gentlemen always believe in friends!”

Kaito and Gonta are both so good and so full of belief in people.

Even though Shuichi is speaking again and is laying out his arguments that lead to the truth, he’s still doing it in a pretty roundabout way, like he’s trying to put off the moment where he has to accuse Kaede for as long as he can.

Kaede:  (I see… Shuichi knows… The reason why Rantaro noticed the camera was…)

I love just how strongly this hints that Kaede knows everything that happened even better than Shuichi.

Kaede:  (I know this… There’s only one reason the camera’s flash was used…)

And again. She very clearly already knows and is not just figuring things out as Shuichi explains.

Kaede:  “But the culprit didn’t expect the camera to take another picture when the door closed.”

And Kaede can be sure of this statement because she is the culprit. (Although, they’re all only assuming the second picture was when the door closed – I believe it is actually supposed to be when Tsumugi opened it again from the other side.)

Kaito:  “Hey, Kaede…?”

Kaede:  “What is it?”

Kaito:  “Is… something wrong? You’ve been acting… kinda strange.”

Kaede:  “…Strange?”

Kiyo:  “Your last few remarks carry… more conviction than before.”

Look at how Kaito is the first one to notice this! He doesn’t for a moment want to believe that she actually did it, which is why he remains vague about what’s up with her and Kiyo has to be more specific – but still, he noticed, and he brought it up because he wanted to better understand why. Kaito is so perceptive when it comes to people and always trying to understand them better when there’s things that don’t make sense to him.

The fact that Shuichi and not Kaede is designated as number 1 in the screen where you have to accuse people would potentially be extremely spoilery if it weren’t for the fact that this is the first time we see this screen, when you’re about to find out that Shuichi is the true protagonist anyway.

It’s very appropriate how Kaede’s voice clip for accusing someone correctly, given that this is the only time she ever does it, is “No doubt about it”.

Kaede:  (I’m sorry… Shuichi. You stayed silent this whole time because you realized it already, right? But, you can’t do that. It may be the end of me, but I want my wish to… I’m giving it to you, Shuichi. From now on, you’re going to carry on my wish! You’re going to protect everyone!)

Shuichi:  (Kaede… I know what you want me to do. That’s so cruel… It’s cruel, but… I understand. I’ll do it. You can trust me. I won’t let your wish… go ungranted.)

This sequence where they switch protagonists is adorable and gives me feelings every time. I don’t think it’s supposed to be that they’re actually talking to each other or reading each other’s thoughts – they just both understand each other enough that they’re accurately imagining how the other is feeling right now and responding to that in their own inner monologue.

Also, despite the game making you do so as her, Kaede didn’t actually accuse herself. All that was ever said out loud was:

Kaede:  “The culprit of this incident is…”

…

Shuichi:  “…Kaede is the culprit.”

Kaede must have been trusting that Shuichi was finally about to find the courage to face the truth and was waiting for him to say it so that she didn’t have to. By acting like she was about to admit it herself, she made it clear to him that she is completely okay with being found guilty, giving him the final push he needed to do it.

Gonta:  “Kaede… did it?”

Tenko:  “W-Wait, that’s not possible! Right, Kaede!?”

I like that these two are the first ones to speak up to question this. They believe in her!

Kaede:  “Pft… ahahahaha! Just kidding!”

Ryoma:  “Just kidding?”

Kaede:  “Huh? Did you guys really think I’m the culprit? Psh, come on, guys! Like I could!”

And now Kaede has started deliberately playing the villain. She’s given up on her attempts to corner the mastermind, given up on her own life – but she still hasn’t stopped trying to help everyone. She’s doing this, playing the horrible traitor who would hide their crime and try to get away with it, in the hope that it will unite everyone against her, so that despite how awfully things went, they’ll still have a sense of unity and co-operation once this is all over. And of course, she’s doing it to get Shuichi to face his fear of revealing the truth, because she knows that he’s going to need to do that in order to keep saving everyone throughout the rest of this killing game.

Kaede is willingly turning herself into a monster because she’s selflessly fixated on saving everyone else and doesn’t care at all what they think of her so long as they’re all going to be okay. She is so, so good.

Kaede:  “Shuichi’s just joking around. He wanted to lighten up the mood.”

Yes, because that’s totally an in-character thing that Shuichi would do.

Kaito:  “Yeah, how? You and Kaede were together the whole time, weren’t you?”

I also find it interesting that, again, this is the first time Kaito has spoken up since Shuichi accused Kaede. He did not join in earlier when Gonta and Tenko were questioning if she really did this. Kaito was the one who first noticed she was acting strange, after all, so it seems there’s a part of him that didn’t have as much trouble believing it, based on the way she’s acting. Here he’s speaking up not to question the fact that she would do it, but simply how she physically could have done it, because that at least is still very unclear.

Kaede:  “…I was in the classroom, standing watch with Shuichi.”

“Y-You see!?”

Gonta:  “Kaede never saw Rantaro… then how she kill him!?”

“There’s no way!”

These two bits of white noise are absolutely 100% Kaito. Even if Kaede being the culprit makes more sense to him based on her behaviour than he would like to admit, he still doesn’t want to face up to that. So he’s vehemently latching onto the part where it doesn’t seem to be physically possible to avoid having to think about the fact that her behaviour tells a different story. The fact that he’s stuttering in the first statement and the text is shaking in the second one certainly implies that he is not as sure of himself as he is trying to sound.

Tsumugi:  “Hmm… what a mystery.”

Yeah, such a mystery that you definitely don’t know the answer to. And you definitely didn’t write Kaede with a fondness for Rube Goldberg machines precisely so she’d be able to create a mystery like this.

Shuichi:  (If I’m remembering correctly, there was something off about her then… Damn it, how could I not realize it…?)

Because she’s your friend and you trusted her and had absolutely no reason to assume she might have been secretly plotting a murder. Don’t beat yourself up about this, Shuichi.

Ryoma:  “It’s not like it started rollin’ on its own…”

“Rollin’ on its own!?”

Ryoma:  “…and fell off the bookcase onto Rantaro’s head.”

“The hell are you talkin’ about!?”

These white noise lines: also Kaito. Ironic that the part he’s furiously questioning here is the part that turns out to be close to the truth.

Typical of Miu to have made this aerial diagram of the library and not even remotely have it occur to her that maybe there’s something weird about the sloped path of books leading to just above Rantaro’s head.

It’s a little weird for Shuichi to be having flashbacks and the flashbacks still be from Kaede’s perspective. Would have been kind of neat to instead get a different flashback to what Shuichi was thinking at the time. Still, I can see that the reason they did it this way is to let the player look back at those lines from Kaede’s inner monologue that hinted at what was really going on and see them for what they really meant.

Kaede:  “Impressive… You have a really good memory, Shuichi.”

Shuichi is condemning her to death and all she cares about doing is praising his talent and making sure he feels confident in himself. She is so goddamn selfless.

Tsumugi:  “A setup that complicated is almost like a Rube Goldberg machine.”

…are you mentioning this because you heard the part where Kaede talked about Rube Goldberg machines and want to make sure everyone in the audience makes the connection, Tsumugi?

Kiyo:  “Your words and that smile… Is this your admission of guilt?”

Kaito:  “Hold on! Don’t just jump to conclusions! I’ve… still got a lot of questions!”

Even though Kaede looks to be just about willing to admit things, Kaito is not ready to accept this so easily.

Kokichi:  “Nee-heehee… that’s weeeeeird. Why do you sound so desperate?”

Kaito:  “There’s nothing weird about it! There’s just no way I can believe someone like Kaede would be the culprit!”

Kokichi notes that Kaito sounds desperate because he is – there’s obviously a part of him that can tell, from the facts lining up and from Kaede’s behaviour right now, that this is the truth. But even so, his belief in the person Kaede is as someone who would never do something like this still hasn’t been contradicted. She’s acting as though she did it, but she’s not acting as though she wasn’t really that person who always cared about saving everyone. This whole time she’s clearly been trying to help Shuichi through his issues and guide him towards the truth. So it just does not make sense to Kaito, since it hasn’t occurred to him that she could have done this in an attempt to save them all.

Gonta:  “Yeah! Gonta not believe it either!”

Kaede:  “What?”

And look at Kaede being so bewildered by them still believing in and defending her. She’s just a murderer, right? She betrayed them all! They should all hate her!

Kaito:  “Don’t worry, Kaede! I’ll clear your name!”

Kaito knows she did it and that it’s not going to be possible to clear her name. He just doesn’t want to accept it.

Kaito:  “I refuse to believe that Kaede is the culprit! I still have my doubts!”

Himiko:  “What kinda doubts?”

Kaito:  “Doubts about the noise, of course!”

His doubts aren’t really about the noise. They’re about the fact that someone like Kaede would ever do this. But he knows that’s not an acceptable argument in a class trial, so instead he’s latching onto whatever evidence-related thing he can think of. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he hadn’t actually forgotten that the BGM could have masked the noise and is just avoiding mentioning it in the hope that no-one else will and he’ll have an excuse not to face the truth.

Ryoma:  “Eh, some noise ain’t a big deal.”

“Is true!”

Tenko:  “Of course it’s a big deal!”

“Yes! I’m positive!”

Hee, look at Gonta and Kaito’s white noise here fervently insisting that Kaede must be innocent. (Kaito is not positive. He’s just desperately pretending that he is.) Also props to Tenko for being the other most adamant defender of Kaede. It’s a little awkward in her case considering that if Kaede were exactly the same person but happened to be a guy then Tenko wouldn’t be doing this, but at least because Kaede is a girl we get to see Tenko’s good side come through here.

This whole argument about the BGM is also kind of flimsy considering that Kaede didn’t know there was going to be loud music masking the sound of the shot and went ahead with her plan anyway. She was presumably hoping her target wouldn’t realise what the noise meant until it was too late. And hey, maybe Rantaro did actually barely hear the sound over the music and that’s why Kaede’s shot missed.

Kokichi:  “Kaito, are you done now?”

Yeah, all this ridiculous nonsense of Kaito’s about believing in people, none of that makes any sense, right? Not in Kokichi’s worldview.

Kaito:  “D-Damn it…! So… it’s true, then…? You’re saying… Kaede really is the culprit!?”

This, though, is Kaito more or less admitting defeat, now that he has no more arguments he can think of. He still doesn’t want to believe that Kaede is the culprit… but he can accept it.

Kirumi:  “But we should not blame him for that. None of those actions warranted suspicion at the time, so he might not have noticed.”

Shuichi:  “…”

Shuichiiii, listen to Kirumi. Don’t go blaming yourself for this.

Gonta:  “That can’t be… It’s gotta be mistake, right?”

Gonta, like Kaito, still doesn’t want to believe that Kaede could have done something like this.

Kokichi:  “But if all of that is true, then that’s pretty unfortunate… I mean… it’s Kaede, y’know? She kept preaching about working together, and then she goes and kills in cold blood!”

This is Kokichi very transparently trying to force it into people’s heads that obviously you shouldn’t trust anyone ever because even someone like Kaede who talks about working together and being friends would totally turn around and murder someone in cold blood for their own selfish gain.

Shuichi:  “No, something still doesn’t fit.”

Kokichi:  “Hm? What doesn’t fit?”

Shuichi:  “Kaede… wouldn’t do something like that.”

And this is Shuichi giving the big middle finger to Kokichi’s twisted worldview. Because anyone who doesn’t have the world’s biggest unexplained trust issues should be able to tell that obviously precisely because Kaede is the person she is, she would definitely have a better reason for killing someone than just doing it in cold blood.

Tsumugi:  “But you were the one that said she did it, right?”

Shuichi:  “Yes, I did say that. But murder in cold blood is just not in her character… I truly believe that! I believe in her!”

This is not the only time that Shuichi is going to be certain that his closest friend committed murder and yet even more certain that they didn’t do it for selfish reasons!

Kaede:  “But… why? Why do you still believe in me, Shuichi? Why? Tell me why!”

Because you’re still a good person, Kaede! Even if you yourself can’t believe that right now because you messed up and accidentally killed an innocent.

Kaede:  “Are you still looking away from the truth!?”

Not any more. Now you’re the one who’s doing that, Kaede.

Kaede:  “I’m a terrible murderer. I betrayed everyone!”

A couple of lines from the Argument Armament that it’s easy to miss out on if you do too well at it, which is a big shame because they are excellent lines.

Shuichi:  “Kaede wasn’t targeting Rantaro. She was targeting the mastermind. She was trying to end this killing game… She was trying to save us all. Isn’t that right, Kaede?”

Kaede: “…”

This time, Kaede’s response is not the “good job for figuring it out, Shuichi!” that she was doing before. She didn’t care if Shuichi figured this out. It didn’t matter what anyone thought of her, after she’d failed them and done such a horrible thing.

Kaito:  “So… she tried to end the killing game… by killing the mastermind?”

And now I think Kaito can finally properly accept it, because he has a reason that makes sense. Even if he’s still upset and frustrated that she was desperate enough to take such drastic measures, he understands.

Shuichi:  “…But it’s all my fault. Kaede trusted my detective skills. I told her the mastermind might be there… And that’s why she set that trap. It’s all my fault. She trusted my detective work, and I screwed it up!”

Kaede:  “Stop… That’s not true… Please, don’t say it’s your fault… It’ll be harder for me… None of this is your fault! It’s mine! Everything’s my fault!”

Kaede does not want to die worried that Shuichi is going to keep blaming himself and suffering because of her mistake. Her only priority now is making sure that everyone else, especially Shuichi, is going to be okay once she’s gone.

Kaede:  “I want you to reveal everything that happened and convince everyone… And then… I want you to end this. That’s… my final wish.”

It’s… honestly a little awkward that Kaede calls this request for Shuichi to do a Closing Argument her “final wish”. No, it’s not – her final wish is going to be for everyone to end this killing game and get out of here! There isn’t even really a need to convince everyone at this point – even Kaito has been convinced by now. But of course it’s Danganronpa so we have to do a Closing Argument. I guess Kaede’s really just trying to give Shuichi more chance to practice his detective skills, you could argue?

“I want to help… I want to help you grant Kaede’s wish!”

…I haven’t been mentioning any of the tutorial text for obvious reasons, but this line is cute.

It’s amusing how the Completely Ambiguous Culprit Figure has a very distinctive backpack, making it not ambiguous at all. It does make sense to do that, since the backpack is relevant in a couple of panels.

Shuichi:  “We deduced that the mastermind would return there to let Monokuma out.”

No, Shuichi, you deduced that all by yourself. Have some more pride in your deductions! (Not that he would want to in this case because this is the reason Kaede committed murder.)

Shuichi:  “The shot kept rolling, then fell on Rantaro’s head, killing him instantly.”

Nope! For once, this is a Closing Argument being straight-up incorrect.

I appreciate this panel of Ambiguous Culprit Kaede being horrified by her guilt even as she’s thinking she killed the mastermind. We’ll even get to see this again in chapter 6 with it actually having Kaede’s face.

Kirumi:  “We can at least try to trust the Kaede we’ve come to know up to this point.”

Tenko:  “The Kaede we’ve come to know…?”

Kirumi:  “Even if she did commit a crime, what Kaede has said to us is not a lie. She wanted to protect us, and I firmly believe that to be the truth.”

Exactly! Too bad Kokichi’s never going to change his tune despite any of this. Also, this is Kirumi showing a surprising amount of personal feelings for her standards. Perhaps because the focus is on how Kaede has been selflessly trying to protect everyone else, which is something Kirumi can definitely understand.

Ryoma:  “If that was a lie too, it’d be the last straw for me. I’d have nothing left to believe in.”

Aww, Ryoma! He did want to believe in Kaede despite his grim outlook on things. Seems like she made him want to find a reason to live just a little bit.

Kaede:  “You guys are so nice… Even though I betrayed you all…”

Because you have been so nice to them the whole time and you didn’t betray them!

Shuichi:  “No! That’s not true, Kaede! You were trying to save all of—”

Kaede:  “Nice job, Shuichi! I didn’t expect any less!”

Shuichi:  “…What?”

Kaede:  “You were super reliable back there! But you still have a long way to go. You need to be more assertive. If you did that more often, you’d be a pretty cool guy.”

Aaaaa Kaede encouraging and giving advice to Shuichi even when she’s about to die! And it’s definitely not a coincidence that she did this as a way to cut off Shuichi’s attempt to make things about how she’s feeling – her own feelings don’t matter next to everyone else’s, especially now she betrayed them and is about to die. She doesn’t want this to be about her at all.

(This attitude of hers is incredibly similar to a certain someone else I could mention who’s going to be encouraging Shuichi a lot from now on.)

Shuichi:  “Kaede… why? Why are you smiling like that…? Why are you still trying to get me to be brave? Why, Kaede? Why are you thinking about everyone except yourself!? If you had just been less selfless, you wouldn’t have had to murder… Why…? Why do you do that?”

Unfortunately, Shuichi, you are going to have to get used to having friends who are this heartbreakingly selfless. This won’t be the last time.

Kaede:  “…I’m… sorry…”

And of course, the only response Kaede has is to apologise for the fact that her selflessness ended up hurting Shuichi like this.

Monokuma:  “The heart-racing excitement as the blackened and the spotless finally face off!”

…Like hell they’re facing off right now, Monokuma. You wish.

The roulette thing which announces the blackened slows down so much that for a moment it almost looks like it’s stopped on Gonta, who’s just before Kaede. Which probably gives first-time players a feeling of “man it sure would be awful if it really was Gonta; good thing that’s clearly never going to happen”. This same thing also happens in trial 2 with Kaito, who’s right next to Kirumi. I have to wonder if that’s deliberate.

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[Next post]

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Of Farms Fairs & Fame (Part 13)

The rain didn’t let up in the days to come, in fact, it only seemed to be growing heavier as the days passed. To the point where Azula was growing used to having to drive around in it. The television flickered in the background as she, Zuko, and their father had dinner.

“Reckon it’s gonna stop any time soon?” Zuko asked.

“I reckon that this weather ain’t normal.” Ozai shrugged. “This might as well be a summer storm, the way it keeps carrying on.”

“Honestly, I’m tired a bein’ soaked by the time I get into school.”

Waving his fork about, Zuko replied. “Yeah, same here.”

“Folks on T.V say it’s supposed to get worse.” Ozai mumbled.

Frankly, Azula wasn’t sure how that was even possible. She just knew that she wanted some sunshine back. She hadn’t been able to visit Sokka in days with the roads so flooded. She  and Zuko barely made it to school and she was growing worried that they’d end up having to walk if the road conditions grew any worse. And walking all those miles in the rain wouldn’t be an easy feat.

She stole a glance through the window, but between the rain and the night she could see very little. Lightning provided only a brief glance at the now-harvested fields. “‘Suppose I should check on our cows.” Ozai pushed his chair in. “When I git back you can show me yer song.”

Azula nodded. It still needed to be polished up, but the storms had delayed the contest anyhow. Too much interference with the power to run a decent radio show contest, is what they had told her. Not that she had any complaints.

“What’d you write ‘bout?” Zuko asked.

“Watchin’ the rain with a pig.” She replied. She’d have held Spade up if she could have, but Ozai had a strict no pigs at the table rule. Even if he didn’t, she couldn’t imagine that Spade was going to leave his hiding spot any time soon. The poor thing hated thunder almost as much as TyLee.  

Ozai re-entered with a dripping beard, a mud splashed face, and a scowl. “Cows are fine. I will shower ‘n then you can show me yer song.”

Zuko chuckled when the man was out of earshot. “Them cows never did get along with dad.”

Azula shrugged.

.oOo.

“I’m gonna head off early.” Zuko announced. He could claim that he had to beat the rain all he wanted, Azula knew that it was just an excuse to see Mai. The sky was rather clear anyhow, so it was a poor excuse, but she didn’t call him on it. Instead she fixed herself a bowl of cereal and listened to the weather man drone on. Her father refused to miss the early morning and late night forecasts.

Azula pushed in her chair and rinsed her bowl. “I’m gonna go pick Sokka up.”

“Y’all be careful. You know how the weather can be.” Ozai called from the other room.

She decided to herself that they would have cancelled classes if the weather was of any real concern but she responded with an, “I will,” regardless.

The roads were still a mess of small debris and slush, she’d have to get to washing her car after the weather cleared. But at least they were driveable. By the time she pulled into Sokka’s driveway the clouds were beginning to brew again. Azula sighed, she could have sworn that the weather man had announced, at the very least, a clear morning commute. She gave the horn a good honk or two.    

She caught a silhouette jolt behind the curtain and then it scrambled out of the house. Clumsily, Sokka climbed into her truck, seemingly unphased by the growing grey. “Good mornin’, Azula.”  

She peered at the sky. “Eh...could be a better one.” She heard the first rumble of thunder. “A much better one.”

She backed out of the driveway, unhappy to see a thick rain of muck instead of a cloud of dust. They had driven only to the first turn when Sokka spoke, “min’ if I tern on the radio?”

“Good luck gettin’ any reception.” She lifted her shoulders in a half shrug that didn’t take her hands off of the wheel. Had the roads been a little nicer, she would have chanced a full on shrug. She watched Sokka turn the dial to the left and then to the right. As expected, he only found faint static to show for his efforts. He clicked the radio off.

“So how are ya gonna do that whole concert thingy?”

“It’s been postponed.” She replied. “I ain’t complainin’ though. I’d like to have a lil’ more time with my song. To practice ‘n maybe change some things, ya know?”

Sokka nodded. He gave a jerk at a particularly loud bang sent courtesy of some nasty looking clouds. She thought of poor Spade, hiding under her bed and then of TyLee who was probably shivering, bedbound and home alone for a few extra recovery days. Azula almost wanted to skip school and visit the girl. But she didn’t want to hear another ‘good grades and hard work’ lecture from her father. The rain was coming down now, mercilessly so. “Shit.” She whispered to herself. She wasn’t one for that kind of speak, but she has had it with this weather. She could barely see where she was going.

“Ya think ya should pull over?”

She looked at the time and bit her lip. “Probably.” They should have called classes off anyways. If they gave her a hard time, then they could hear it from her father. She pulled off to the side of the road, put the truck in park, and folded her arms over her chest.

“Thinkin’ that ya shoulda stayed home taday?” Sokka asked.

“Yup.”

Sokka laughed, though Azula couldn’t see what was so funny. Just as soon as it started, the rain seemed to lighten up until it was little more than a couple of heavy drops now and again. But Azula didn’t resume the drive, something chilled her. Something she couldn’t place. She unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the truck.

“What are ya doin’?” Sokka asked.

Azula held up a hand and he went silent. Silent, just like everything else in the field around them. She listened for the rain, for the call of birds for anything. Her tension only grew.

It was so quiet.

So very quiet.

A sense of foreboding stirred in her belly.

She knew this quiet.

It was the same quite that came before Lu Ten’s death.

“Sokka, run.”

She didn’t need to say it, the look of dread on his face and his steady flow of profanities said that he was already well aware of their predicament.

She fixed her eyes  on the sky. A shrill whine cut into the quiet and her heart picked up that much more. It was the kind of confirmation that set what she already knew into stone.  

She looked around almost frantically, everything was flat. So uselessly flat. Not a barn in sight, abandoned no otherwise. She looked back towards the truck, her stomach sinking even further at the horrific rumble.

She could see it clearly, the look on Iroh’s face, when he came knocking on their doorbell to tell his brother about how Lu Ten had been ripped right from his hiding place under the overpass they sought shelter under. It was why her uncle cringed at the first flash of lightning no matter how mellow the storm.

“Whaddo we do?” She barely heard him over the rumble.

She simply grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the truck. She hustled to fasten her seatbelt as that sickly green sky glared mockingly down at her.

“I thought we weren’t suppos’ta try ta out run ‘em!”

“Myth!” Azula shouted. “There ain’t no safe way ta do this one.” After Lu Ten’s demise, Iroh had insisted that they researched tornado safety tips. She had, but that didn’t stop the man from drilling the facts he’d learned into her head. “They say that if you can’t find a place ta hide then yer best chance might be to drive away, fast as possible.” She was pretty sure that, that’s what she had read. Granted most of her sources advised that folks should do such only if they knew for sure which direction the twister was heading in, but she left that out. She also vaguely recalled reading somewhere that there weren’t many options for people facing a twister head on. It was behind them though, perhaps they had a chance.

Azula threw the truck into drive and accelerated, steady but fast. The last thing they needed was for her to flip the vehicle herself. The engine roared, but not loud enough to overpower the freight train rattle of the tornado.

“Shit.” Sokka hissed again. It wasn’t doing anything to ease the anxiety welling up.

“Which direction is it gonin’?”

“I...I think…” He trailed off.

“Sokka!”

“It’s hard ta tell!”

The peddle was practically to the floor, the fields rolled by in a blur. Azula couldn’t recall a time she drove so fast, much less on roads so muddy. Lord help her, what if she lost control? They’d be dead as soon as it happened. The sky opened into a rain again.

No, she realized. It was too heavy to be rain.

The sky was spitting hail at her. She hoped...prayed that the windshield would hold.

“Which way’s it goin’, Sokka!?” She yelled again.

“I think. I think that it’s right behind us.”

She gripped the steering wheel tighter. There had to be a house somewhere, at that point she wouldn’t be any opposed to kicking in someone’s door and rushing into the basement with a, “howdy y’all, fine weather we’re havin’.”

“What’s ma gonna do? What’s Kat gonna do?” She heard Sokka whimper. She didn’t dare glance behind her.

Still she couldn’t help but ask the same about Iroh and Zuko. About her father.

Azula heard a harsh thump and spiderwebs formed on the glass. It was becoming harder to drive against the wind, the streets were flooding with broken fence posts and tree twigs and fragments of furniture, so carelessly chucked about by the twister.  

Through a torrent of unrelenting rain and hail she could see a structure looming tauntingly close. From Sokka’s posture, knelt over in a silent prayer she knew that they didn’t have much time. She threw the truck in park and yanked him from the truck. “Sokka, c’mon.”

Doing so she caught a glimpse of death. It was humblingly large, a stark reminder of just what mama nature could do. There were flashes of electricity as power lines snapped and flailed before getting sucked in like spaghetti twisting around a fork.

Azula dragged Sokka towards the house. He had to be in some sort of daze. “Dammit, Sokka, help me open this here thing.” She kicked at the door. The ‘for rent’ sign flapped wildly. “Fuck!” She shouts as the thing ripped from the ground and lodged itself in the door. It was just enough to snap the man into action. He threw his body against the door until it caved, sending the both of them crashing to the floor. They scrambled clumsily to their feet and frantically searched for the basement door.

Azula pried it open, with the sound of rattling abandoned kitchen utensils haunting her ears. It smelled of musk and mold in there. Like something rotting, a healthy helping of spiders and other critters occupied the space with them. But in comparison they seemed harmless.

The shatter of glass told her that the windows had busted. She gripped Sokka’s arm. As she pulled herself closer, she could feel him shaking. Or maybe she was. More likely, they were both trembling. They  could have been up there, only a moment or two longer and they could have been part of the debris. She heard a particularly loud bang and something poked through the ceiling.

The rumbling was growing softer.

Softer and softer until it was as dreadfully quiet as before the storm.

Azula wasn’t sure just how long they’d stayed put for.

She hadn’t realized she had been crying until Sokka wiped the tears from her eyes. The product of stress and relief. She allowed for a switch, she was now in his arms, his face buried in her hair. Another few minutes slipped by before Azula slowly got to her feet and even slowlier crept up the stairs.

She didn’t know exactly what she expected to see, but it wasn’t a clear view of the mutilated field. The northmost wall had been torn away completely, pipes leaking and remaining boards bobbing perilously. There was an entire motorboat wedged into the floor.

Unsure of how well the structure would withstand, Azula stepped around the wreckage with as much caution as she could. It mattered little that the place had been free of furniture when they entered, it was filled with it now; broken dolls, couch cushions, and lampshades.

“Look at this.” Sokka pointed.

At first she saw only a bike, bent and twisted with a wheel still spinning. She followed his finger further to see combine laying toppled, its cutterbar facing skyward. “They shoulda cancelled class.” Ozai was going to have a fit for sure.

“Ya don’t say.” Sokka muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

She hoped that Zuko was alright, that he’d left early enough to either miss it or be in the school building when the twister touched down. She reached into her pocket, groaning in defeat at the realization that she’d left it in her truck. Which--she looked around--may either be completely gone and swept away or that shiny red thing buried under a heap of trees and part of the roof. It would be one more thing for Ozai to fuss over, that truck was fairly new.

She picked her way through the pile of debris until she found herself a seat, a battered lawnchair. “Make yerself comfy, Sokka, this could take a while.”

The wind tousled her hair, gently and soothingly, a stark contrast to the force it had once been. Sokka rubbed at her shoulders. She noticed a streak of red on his forehead. His cheeks and clothes were coated in mud. She couldn’t imagine that she was in a much better state. She was soaked to the core.

“I’m glad yer okay.” Sokka noted.

She squeezed his hand. The sun beat down and the sound of birds was slowly coming back. The world was coming back to life. What a morning it had been.