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anotherwvba · 5 months

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Dreaming After Midnight pt. 4

The atmosphere felt tense, but different in the break between rounds. Dream, the fierce and smug opponent from moments before, now seemed like a totally different person. She casually spat her mouthpiece into one glove as she walked to her corner and grabbed her stool.

Removing her own mouthpiece and sitting on the stool in her corner, Niki was still reeling from Dream’s blows in the previous round. She eyed Dream suspiciously as her opponent carried herself with warmth and charm as she set her stool in front of Niki and took a seat.

After a long silence with Niki getting her bearings back, she finally looked at Dream. Niki’s guard was still up, her body ready to respond at a moment’s notice, prepared for any verbal or emotional assault. “So, what are we doing?” Niki asked with bitterness and snark in her voice, “You just decide you want to have a little chat in between trying to knock my head off and talking mad trash?”

Dream’s eyes met Niki’s in a way that felt oddly sincere and serious. “Niki, aren’t you even a little curious about why I challenged you?”

Niki rubbed her jaw with her glove, still feeling the sting of Dream’s punches. “Oh, I don’t know. You got the urge to beat someone up and thought I’d be an easy target?”

“No. No, Niki,” Dream said with a shake of her head. “It’s not like that at all.”

“Damn right, it’s not!” Niki said, smacking her gloves together hard for emphasis. “When that bell rings, you’ll learn that you picked the wrong girl for a midnight beatdown.”

A chuckle, a soft and joyful sound, escaped Dream’s lips. It sounded odd to Niki, it sounded more… honest. Genuine. Comforting? “Oh, Niki. He was so right about you. A very trusted friend told me about you. Said that we needed to meet.” Dream’s tone softened, “I wanted to see if he was right about you, and I think he was.”

Niki’s anger started to subside, but the suspicion remained. After all, this woman had been aggressively insulting her and trying to knock her unconscious just moments ago. “And who’s this friend of yours? How do they know me? And what did they tell you about me?”

“I, uh,” Dream chuckled lightly, “don’t think he’d like me to give his name. But, he said you are loyal to friends, helpful to anyone in need, always willing to put in the work. He also said that you don’t back down even if the odds are stacked against you. He said that I’d have to knock you out, because there’s no way you’ll quit.”

“I do my best.” Niki looked away, a mix of pride and humility in her eyes. “But sometimes, I feel like I’m what you called me— a fan playing boxer. I’m not some athletic prodigy. I didn’t work my whole life for this moment. I’m a geek that got lucky. When I walk in here,” Niki gaze scanned the dark gym as she admitted quietly, “sometimes I feel like… like I’m an imposter.”

Dream’s voice took on a hint of friendly challenge, “Wait a second. Where’s this coming from? Where’s the defiance and determination you had a few minutes ago?”

Niki’s gaze snapped right back to Dream’s. “To be fair, that was when you popped outta nowhere, challenged me to a fight,” Dream’s eyebrow rose sharply as Niki continued, “sorry, boxing match, and have spent most of the last ten minutes trying to cave my skull in. Suddenly, you’re acting all civil and nice, got me thinking a little, and it confuses the hell outta me.”

“Heh, I can see that.” Dream rested her right glove gently on Niki’s knee, a surprisingly calm and comforting gesture. “Look, maybe your story started as a lucky fan, but that’s not how it’s going to end. You are a truly amazing boxer. And this place,” Dream waved her free glove around, taking in the room, “the WVBA is where you should be.”

“I, um, appreciate that. Thank you.” Niki's humility, though, was still tempered with doubt. “Still, I don’t get it. Why challenge me? To find out what kind of person I am? There’s easier ways to find out. And another thing, you seem to know a lot about me. Who are you, really?”

Dream smiled, absentmindedly tapping her gloves together, “That, my dear Niki, is a long story.”

Niki leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Alright.” Dream’s expression turned a little sorrowful, she looked vulnerable. “I’m never ready for this part. Niki, do you know how the WVBA was founded?”

Perched on the edge of her stool, Niki nodded. “Yeah, of course. It’s pretty common knowledge. I mean, I even uploaded a documentary about it on the website last week. Our production team is really good.”

“Tell me about it, how the WVBA was founded, I mean,” Dream said, her eyes tearing slightly. “I-I know it’s all out there if you look, but… humor me.”

“Well, the league started about 30 years ago,” Niki started, puzzled by the request. “A bunch of boxers that had been given the runaround by the boxing establishment wanted to have a place to fight and compete where the sport means more than the money, and where there’s no behind the scenes political B.S.”

Dream nodded along, a subdued smile on her face. “So far, so good. Keep going.”

Niki shrugged a little, “Not much to tell after that. Hoy Quarlow was selected as the first WVBA President. Didn’t last too long once they all figured out that someone dedicated to the business side of things would be better for the role. And Mr. Sandman won the tournament to become the first champion. He knocked Bald Bull out in the third round. The rest is history.”

Dream shook her head gently. "And that's where history’s not entirely accurate."

Niki's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

A wistful smile crossed Dream’s face, “I was the first President, Hoy was the second. And I fought Tyrell in the tournament finals. I won by KO with five seconds left in the fight.”

“No way!” Niki’s disbelief was obvious. “First, there’s no record of any of that. And second, there’s no way the WVBA would sanction a woman to fight against a man in a competitive match… especially 30 years ago. We didn’t even get a women’s division until this year!”

A mischievous twinkle flickered in Dream’s eyes. “Remember, Niki. I first introduced myself to you as ‘Mister’ Dream.” Niki became even more confused, then her eyes widened as, with a blinding flash of light, Dream disappeared and was replaced by a tall man with short brown hair and chiseled features, but the same smile, the same eyes. Another flash, and Dream, the woman Niki had been fighting so intensely, was back on the stool.

“What? What are you?” Niki’s eyes grew wide with… fear? Confusion? Awe? She didn’t know what. She had no words for the emotions running through her.

“I told you,” Dream chuckled, “long story. Now, where was I?”

“You said you beat Mr. Sandman,” Niki said as she tried to come to grips with what was happening. “So, you were the first champion?”

“Yeah.” Dream’s voice carried a haunting sense of nostalgia. Her face softened, almost as if pained. “That third round. It was the most intense three minutes of my life.” Her gaze went distant, as if she were watching the scene unfold. “He was brutal in the ring. Strong, fast, and smart. Such a brilliant opponent. And so relentless. But I stayed with him, blow for blow.”

Skeptical, but captivated, Niki leaned forward, her gloves on her knees. “How’d you manage to beat him?”

“Timing, Niki.” Dream’s eyes brightened, the thrill of that moment filling her again. “This sport is all about timing. We’d spent two rounds beating the hell out of each other, but I knew if I was patient. Sandman threw a heavy right, I slipped it, and he was open. I caught him clean with a straight right to his jaw, and that might have been enough, but I couldn’t chance it. A swift pivot into a left uppercut and he hit the canvas hard, cold as a block of ice.”

“Incredible.” Niki’s eyes widened. Could this be true?

“For as long as it lasted, it was.” Dream’s features took on a somber set. “Once I got back to the locker room, the adrenaline wore off and the pain set in. It was like… like my body was screaming at me. It was the worst pain I’d ever felt. My ribs burned, my head was pounding, my vision blurred. I got dizzy. Then, nothing.”

“You passed out?” Niki asked with concern.

“I died, Niki.” Dream’s voice was a whisper, barely audible over Niki’s involuntary gasp. With a deep breath, Dream cleared her throat. “It was surreal. In the dark, I heard the roar of the crowd. The announcer’s voice declaring me the new champion. Then, a bright, bright, light and I saw everything.”

Niki’s own voice was a whisper now, “But… you were dead?”

“I was there, but I wasn’t.” Dream’s voice took on a slight echo, an almost spectral quality. “I could see the other fighters, my coach, the medics, all rushing in. Tyrell… Sandman… was in the corner of the room with Quick, Tex, and Viktor, praying that I would make it. They were all in shock and the medics were fighting to bring me back, but…”

She didn’t understand why, but Niki placed her gloves on Dream’s knees, a warm and supportive gesture. Dream’s eyes met Niki’s and she nodded before carrying on.

“They called it. Time of death, 10:36pm.” Tears slowly started to fall from Dream’s eyes. “Tyrell broke down. It was all anyone could do to console him. There was this profound sadness, and I felt it. All of it. They were mourning and they hurt and it was a worse pain than anything I felt that night. And I wanted it to stop. I wished that it would stop.”

“Wait,” Niki asked softly. “D-did you… somehow…”

“I don’t know how or why,” Dream locked her eyes on Niki’s. “My wish happened. Those memories, the night, the fight, my victory, my death… none of it had ever happened. It was like I had never existed. But, I remained, in this form, disconnected for life and, for some reason, bound to this place.”

Niki sat back, her back pressing against the turnbuckle pads. She couldn’t explain why. It didn’t make sense. This story, all of it, was so ridiculous, so preposterous. And she believed. Every. Single. Word.

“So,” Niki looked around, searching for words. “What are you? A spirit? A ghost? An angel? A demon?”

“Good question,” Dream smiled, sniffling back a few tears. “Wish I knew. I have an idea, though. I’ve learned over the years that I’ve been granted abilities that I don’t fully understand, but I think that I’m supposed to guard this place. And people like you. People who will fight with an honest heart and dare to dream.”

“Alright, let’s say I’m buying this,” Niki eyed Dream cautiously, “that you’re some sort of boxing guardian spirit. You just show up at the stroke of midnight, make my gear magically appear, and challenge me to match?”

Dream leaned in a little closer, “There’s more to it than that, Niki. I’m… compelled… to seek out those that possess the true essence of a boxer, the kind of person the WVBA was meant for.”

Niki crossed her arms, somewhat defensively, “So, what? You’ve been scouting me? Judging if I’m worthy or not.”

“In a way, but it’s not about judging you or finding you worthy.” Dream’s voice took on a serene quality as she continued, “Plenty of people are strong and fast and skilled. And those people are successful in this sport, but they don’t… how do I explain?”

“Look,” Niki interrupted, “I’m just an 18-year-old tech geek that loved this league as a fan and was in the right place at the right time.”

“That!” Dream’s eyes lit up. “That’s what I mean. It’s not enough to have a good lead hook or fancy footwork. It’s heart, resilience, passion, and an unwavering spirit. That’s the essence of this league, and I see it all in you.”

Niki’s brows furrowed as she continued to stare at her once opponent. “Surely there’s a… a less painful way to test my ‘unwavering spirit’. You could’ve just sent a friend request, you know?”

Dream chuckled, Niki’s mix of sarcasm and curiosity not lost on her. “True, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Beating the hell out of me emotionally and physically is fun to you?” Niki’s anger was starting to bubble up a little, but Dream’s warm smile and a shake of her head put Niki at ease.

“It’s not like that, Niki.” Dream looked around the ring, a thoughtful look on her face. “This ring is a crucible. Just to prepare yourself for it, you have to push yourself to your limits. Walking into the ring is to walk into a pressure cooker. This sport will break you, break your spirit, break your body, if you let it. I want to see who will crumble under that pressure and who will rise above it.”

Niki shook her head, “But, how’s it a fair test?” Her eyes met Dream’s again, this time with an accusation. “You’re, I don’t know, a boxing entity, with powers and everything. How can any regular boxer stand a chance?”

With a reassuring and gentle smile, Dream placed her forearm against Niki’s knee. “You feel that? Skin on skin. In this form, I’m as human as you are. No stronger, no faster. I have all the limitations you do. When a match starts, I hold back to be on par with my opponent. As the match continues, I slowly become more intense, increasing the challenge.”

The sensation of Dream’s touch was no different than anyone else, though Niki didn’t know what else she should’ve expected. “But, you’re not any stronger or faster?”

Dream sat back on her stool. “I’m bound by the limits of the human body, just like anyone else. I’m as strong and fast as a 5-foot 9, 140 pound woman that’s trained in boxing for 25 years. Gender aside and size aside, the same as I was in life.”

Niki’s eyes started moving along lines, processing information like code on a screen. “So, you’re not invincible? You can be beaten.”

“Of course.” There was a twinkle in Dream’s eyes, a mixture of anticipation and excitement. “The possibility of losing, that’s part of it. The uncertainty, the challenge, the thrill of the fight. I want to bring that out in others and, if I’m honest, feel it again myself.”

“If that’s true…” Niki nodded slowly, realization setting in. “You ever lost?”

“Not when I was alive and not since,” Dream said with a certain bravado in her voice.

Niki stood up, her stool scraping the canvas as she pushed it aside. “Time to change that!”

Dream looked confused as she watched Niki put her mouthpiece back in. “Niki, I’ve seen all I could ever hope to see in you. You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh no, you don’t.” Niki had a spark of excitement and determination in her eyes. “You roll up into my house and want to throw hands and you think we’re just gonna stop with one round to go? I’ve never backed down from a challenge and I’m not about to start now.”

Dream’s grin was wide and warm as she stood. “I shouldn’t have expected anything less. You are truly amazing, Niki Binary. No test, nothing to prove, just the thrill of the ring. Let’s do this!”

“Your test may be over, Dream,” Niki bounced on her toes, warming back up, tossing out punches to loosen her arms. “Mine’s just beginning.”

Dream took her stool back to her corner and set it outside the ring. “This’ll be fun, Niki. Thank you.”

“Just so we’re clear,” Niki narrowed her gaze playfully, “no supernatural shenanigans?”

“None whatsoever.” Dream slid her mouthpiece back in. “Just a boxer, same as you.”

Niki nodded, grinning through her mouthpiece. "Good. Don't hold back then, Dream. I might not have anything to prove to you, but I'm still proving myself. To myself and to everyone who’s ever doubted me."

There was a pause, a moment where Dream went still, looking at Niki with admiration and recognition. Then, Dream nodded slowly and smiled, “You get everything I’ve got, Niki. I wouldn’t dare hold out on such an amazing opponent.”

Niki raised her guard, still smiling, “Alright, then! Ready for your first loss, Dream!”

“Oh, poor Niki,” Dream started dancing around her corner, joyous eyes shining, “Just don’t come crying when I put you to sleep!”

My test is just beginning, but I’m ready, Niki thought to herself, body tensed and ready to fight. “Alright then, final round,” Niki whispered to herself before calling out loudly, voice echoing off the walls of the empty gym…

“Ding! Ding! Let’s go!”

#punch out #super punch out #punch out wii #punch-out!!#super punch-out!!#punch-out!! wii #punch out oc #punch out fanfic #wvba #niki binary #mr. dream

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enchanted-lightning-aes · 11 months

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Behind the Curtains

A/N: just a tale of Tegan and her pals from Lines of A Script to Ignore! Where they’re doing their job and run into some inconveniences.^^

Word Count: 794

TW: None

***

"Is everyone ready for this?" Liandri asks. "I know I am."

"Glad to see someone prepared in advance," Pham grumbles. They flail their arms at the sides. "I should have had a warning label!"

Keeara twirls a lock of her lavender dreadlocks. "Can I be honest? I so did not get any memo it'd be today."

Pham huffs a heavy breath, harrumphing. "See? We are so gonna mess this up! If I'd known we'd be assigned to this, I wouldn't have thrown those previous props for nothin'."

With a shrug, Yu-Phin slides her phone over a table. "You're just gettin' antsy, no need to freak out. We can sort this out before things start."

Tegan drums her fingers along a script's cover.

She'd have an input, however, it might not allay Pham's current issues. They're worked up for today's agenda.

Behind the stage wings, they're lounging across backstage. Surrounded by decorations needing to be arranged across the stage. They're only missing some items to finish the look they need.

Since she worked at Boulevard Theatre, she managed to find a group of friends. Thanks to their mutual love of musicals and plays, they've developed a bond. They may have different skillsets, however, they have a common ground. She hadn't imagined how she'd be involved in such.

Prior to this, she only had two close friends, who she still hangs out with regularly. Despite how they might be busy with their own jobs as well.

Yet she has a balance between all the friends she's got. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

"I mean as long as we do fine," Tegan says, propping her chin at the back of her hand. "We won't have much trouble."

"Who am I to complain? We're gonna get glamorous costumes," Liandri says with a blissful sigh. "A bit of mystery with 1920's Harlem flair!"

Yu-Phin grins. "Yeah! It's what I've been waiting for weeks! If things go well, it's gonna be glamorous and chic!"

"Can't argue with that." Keeara tilts her head to the side, adjusting her cardigan sleeves.

Pham plops down on a crate, frowning. "I suppose I probably need to chill out."

"Just 'probably', huh?" A corner of Tegan's mouth rises.

Some of the others snicker at her usage of air quotes. Pham throws a glare, only knitting their brows together. They tug on their beanie, aiming it at her. As if they'd smack her with it like a glove.

Eh. She'd like to see them try.

"Don't be imprudent, young lady!" Pham lightly swats it on her upper arm, tsking. They raise their head. "Shameful! No one taught you manners?"

The rest of her friends begin cracking up, hooting and hollering at their antics. Tegan shrugs, stifling a chuckle threatening to take over her.

"To be fair, you look like you're about to break into a soliloquy."

"Hey! Take that back! This instant!"

"Whoa, let's not get hasty!" Yu-Phin saunters, blocking Pham's way to her. She lifts a hand. "We got priorities to focus on."

"Of course," Pham mutters, taking a step back. "Anyways, don't we need some backgrounds? I'd have got it done if I'd known."

"We can split into groups," Liandri suggests, her expression placid. As if she wasn't about to witness a beatdown. "Alright: Keerara and Pham, y'all go to a store to buy a background. Or print one."

Keeara nods as Pham crosses their arms, striking a rebellious sort of aura. Tegan flicks a glance at Keeara, who compresses her lips.

Tegan dusts her shirt. "I'm sure we can get this done by tomorrow."

"Yup, the production won't start until next week," Yu-Phin adds, clapping. "For now, we got to set things up."

"Alright, sure." Pham beckons at a path at a corner.

As Keeara goes after Pham, Liandri and Yu-Phin examine the props and things they've got.

They gathered the boxes containing different types of props to set the stage up. It had been a Renaissance-themed sort of play. Masquerade balls and all that jazz.

Initially, she had been hesitant of the concept. It had been rather unconventional even for this theatre company. However, her interest started rising as she reevaluated on what it presented to the table, so to speak.

"Okay then!" Yu-Phin saunters towards a pile of boxes, flourishing them. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Liandri chuckles, patting her at the back. They both squeal and laugh again. Tegan grins, moving her folder back into her backpack.

Someday if she progresses in her job, this will lead her to bigger things. If her own musical launches, she looks forward to these shenanigans on opening night.

With her friends preparing to unpack the décor, Tegan follows them. She picks up a package, scanning on what wonders it contains.

***

#writeblr #creative writing #flash fiction friday #fff184 #enchant: loasti

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wackus-bonkus-maximus · 1 year

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✨👀 director's commentary about the titles of your fics? How you came up with them?

Reblog this if you want readers to come into your ask box and ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines.

Or, send in a ⭐star⭐ to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

ooh selkie this is a fun ask! ty 💛

let's break it down by series, fics, and then oneshots:

series: what makes a monster - this series is very loosely inspired by "the hunchback of notre dame" (at least, that's the soundtrack i was listening to when i got the idea for it). so the lyrics are phrases taken from the disney broadway musical!

a moral like a trinket - from the finale: "and i wish i could leave you a moral like a trinket to hold in the palm of your hand." this drabble-y oneshot is about nathalie finding out adrien is a senti. she didn't know how to find any morality in that, she knew only that she loved him, and so proceeded accordingly and kept his amok, his "trinket" safe in the palm of her hand. what makes a monster - from the opening song and the finale both: " 'now here is a riddle to guess if you can,' sing the bells of notre dame. 'what makes a monster and what makes a man?' " the struggle between senti-adrien and gabriel mirrors that of quasimoto and frollo. who is the real monster in the relationship? where does adrien's humanity come from? does gabe have any? and also it's notre dame, our lady, speaking these lines... which could mean lots of things 👀 what makes a man - see above. this oneshot is really more about adrien coping with the fact that he's a senti and looking to his father for guidance. while in the above lyric 'what makes a man' is about looking for humanity, in this title it's meant to connote adrien's coming of age (or at least the end of his childhood innocence). made with guile and art - from "flight into egypt": "no, it must be a clue made with guile and art/ and she gave it to you because she knows you're smart." in this oneshot, chat noir goes to felix for answers about his senti-ness. felix was made with "guile" and adrien wtih "art." their amoks were made with both.

series: one does not love breathing

keys to the kingdom - “and i will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” (matt. 16:14–19.) in this oneshot, felix has stolen all the miraculous - the "keys to the kingdom" and given them to monarque. they're pissed, and felix is like whatever i had my reasons, but none of them realize this is the beginning of felix's karmic beatdown. collateral damage - when we think of collateral damage we think of civilian deaths or property damage in a military war. well, lb and cn kind of ARE at war with monarque in this oneshot. they've came back from the battle in "strikeback" mostly intact except for ladybug's severe anxiety and paranoia, which she got as a direct result from losing to monarque. second dose - this one is probably the funniest one to me lol. felix got punched by ladybug once in "felix." he gets punched again here bc he mouthed off. en prise - in chess, it is the state of a piece under attack which the opponent can take with a material gain. i think for feligami, wearing their hearts on their sleeves is the equivalent of being under attack, or vulnerable to an opponent. one does not love breathing - "until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. one does not love breathing." - harper lee, to kill a mockingbird. this quote is about taking things for granted, and not realizing you love or need something (or someone) until it's gone. i think that fits well with odnlb; the cast have all lost something/someone and are trying to get it back.

fic: matter of luck - adrien gets himself cursed with bad luck, and the only way to break it is for ladybug to kiss him. getting her to do that is just a matter of luck ;)) this fic is all about good/bad luck & plays with the idea of the original pv. a bad luck curse has always seemed so fun to me! i was excited to feature it in a fic.

oneshots

this again - i really didn't know what to title this reverse love square oneshot lol. but basically it's alya noticing and teasing marinette about suddenly liking chat noir, and marinette's like "STOP" *😡* "NOT THIS AGAIN!" name brand - klsdfjlk ok you know i messed up and almost named this "brand name." but yeah since when we think of a name brand we think of chanel, luis vuitton, and gucci, i figured the gabriel brand would be up there with the other fashion icons. the lipstick lb uses is a name brand lipstick, but she also kisses a name brand boy 👀

from the fanfic writer: director's cut ask game.

#ask game #fanfic writer: director's cut #odnlb #one does not love breathing #wmam #what makes a monster #littlebug valentines day zine #matter of luck #this again #name brand #writing #titles #title inspiration

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i-can-even-burn-salad · 2 years

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Heal my Wounds: Masterlist

Retrieving some possibly magic rocks should have been an easy mission. Unfortunately the rocks turn out to be not magic, and the mercenaries assigned to protect Josephine’s group are a nuisance. And while their leader’s refusal to follow her orders starts out as a mere annoyance, it culminates in a tragic accident.

Between grievous injury and disgrace, both of their lives fall apart. Josephine might never hold a sword again, and Valadan is back on the streets with nothing to his name. As he insists on helping her get back on her feet, Josephine realizes that there’s more to him than his rude behavior. Similarly, he finds that she isn’t the spoiled princess he thought her to be.

Together, both of them might heal — if they can overcome the damage they've done to each other's lives.

This one is once continuous story, using the prompts of @whumpshaped ‘s July prompt list write me a novel. I dropped the box with them and picked them up in the wrong order. They’ll be posted from July 1st to August 2nd.

Didn’t make it to a full novel, does a novella count? 👉👈

Approximate total word count: 44k

Major warnings: Lady whump (environmental/accident), crushed, broken bones, blood, alcohol, some general violence, self destructive behavior, crude language, so much guilt, misunderstandings, sexual innuendos, heterosexual love story*

*please for the love of god this is a joke. There’s no sex, just some kissing.

It’s not too whumpy. Actually, it’s a love story with some blood and much angst sprinkled over it. It’s set between Thorns and Undeserved. Yes, despite the chapter titles, it does have a happy end.

Individual/additional warnings will be tagged on each chapter. Let me know if I’m missing anything, or if you need any clarification.

Story

Moodboard

Playlist

Ebook Version!

Journey

Entertainment

Breaking Point

Scream

Self-Sacrifice

Darkness

Rescue

Itching

Helplessness

Hospital

Hostility

Meeting

Routine

Beatdown

Outside

Relief

Fresh Air

Secret

Goal

I’m Fine

Progress

Starvation

Displayed

Blame

Questions

Someone New

Reflection

Home

Opportunity

Symbolism

Fight

Resignation

Bad End

Rain

Real

Epilogue

Forgiveness

Characters

Josephine

Bio

Portrait

Valadan

Bio

Portrait

Both 💜

Valadan & Josephine, commission by antisoxialxconstruct

They also got tags. These:

Josephine is no princess

Valadan doesn’t like glass

[ID: The banner for Heal my Wounds is a photograph of a mountain landscape. Across it is written the title of the story in a white to bright blue gradient with a black outline. The font looks handwritten. The other images are purely decorative lines. The same is true for all Heal my Wounds story posts. End ID.]

#Heal my Wounds #masterlist #Wheeee it's finished now so time to put up and queue... 33 posts. Welp.

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basedkikuenjoyer · 2 years

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OP TCG Musings

Cynical cash grab that will likely never have enough of a playerbase in the area to be worth the investment (if my early 30s ass even had the time) it may be...it has come to my attention that the One Piece TCG will allow one to play the Akazaya Nine from the first set. Which means naturally I will be picking it up from the first set now.

Seriously though, around 2014-15ish I had a rather hot run as a semi-pro MTG player. At least made enough in winnings I was coming out a little ahead even with a couple trips for tournaments a year. Always loved CCGs, my teen years lined up with Yugioh’s first competitive scene and I pushed the short lived but amazing YuYu Hakusho game from 2003 hard. Tricky to tell until I can get a proper feel for the game, but looking at the cards and the rules it looks like you do have a solid deck out of the Kozuki. Like, I mean it could be a breakout competitive one if there is a scene for that.

If that sounds like a topic that interests you, I’m going to pop off with a deep dive gut reation from that vantage point.

First off, one of the best things a Kozuki/Akazaya deck has out of the box is options. From Japan we know the first two sets and starter exclusives. Only looking at what we’ll get for inital releases. This is hilarious, but the Akazaya have options for one amazing reason off the bat; an actual choice between leaders. Because the Akazaya cards check if Oden is your leader...and Yamato counts as Kozuki Oden!

Awesome, but it means in this early stage we’re one of the camps who has a choice to make. A real one. Oden’s ability is being able to discard a Wano card to reuse the like, mana/resource thing. That plus support cards that let you draw cards and a certain sibling pair who are phenomenal, aggressively costed creature control? Pretty solid base for a control deck. Especially since Ashura piggybacks well off of Kiku/Izo’s abilities as a big attacker. Denjiro also plays nice with Oden’s ability by doing it more.

That said...Yamato’s a tantalizing choice too. He has a very aggressive ability. Kawamatsu and Tsuru are some nifty low cost characters and you still have that cheap draw spell. I don’t think you quite have the same support here just yet, but a little bit of power creep down the line can get you the foundation of something like Zoo archetypes in Magic. Lightning fast beatdown.

Either way, Kin’emon is the magical one in either build. He gets to bring a buddy with him, Kiku being perfectly costed. In the first build, great for establishing a board presence without investing as much. Keeping more resources open. But he also seems just the right cost for Yamato to use him as a nice closeout before the game goes long.

I am also quite impressed how well all of this jives with the series and my interpretation of the group as a whole.

(Uhhh...disregard some of that. Yama’s not a leader. My bad. Akazaya are still a great early control deck though and we will get a good Kin leader in set #2)

#one piece #one piece tcg #one piece ccg #akazaya nine #kozuki clan #kozuki oden #okiku #samurai control

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frontproofmedia · 5 months

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What's next for David Benavidez?

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By Sina Latif

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Published: December 06, 2023

What's next for David Benavidez?

On the night when Showtime’s pay-per-view output bowed out of the sport, a real star of boxing was born inside Mandalay Bay last week.

It has been a gradual process for David Benavidez. Still, his impressive win against Caleb Plant in March, his first real top-tier opponent, evidenced his potential at the elite level. Then, his statement-making six-round beatdown of former two-weight division champion Demetrius Andrade last week hammered home that point. Now, all of the boxing fraternity has been clamoring for Benavidez to face one opponent and one opponent only.

We know this is who Benavidez wants, too. Saul ‘Canelo’ Alvarez will most likely next be seen in May 2024 for Cinco De Mayo, and everybody will be calling for a Canelo vs Benavidez showdown.

With back-to-back wins against Plant and Andrade, Benavidez is doing something similar to Tim Tszyu at 154 lbs, who is chasing the super welterweight king in Jermell Charlo. If you cannot secure that fight against the top guy, then stay active while beating all of the top contenders and force the champion’s hand, creating a demand for a fight to crown the genuine No.1.

Even with everything he’s achieved, Canelo’s legacy also needs that fight now. An unwillingness to face Benavidez, widely viewed as the biggest threat to Canelo south of 175 lbs, would be a stain on Canelo’s legacy. It has now got to the stage, with yet another statement made by Benavidez, that the world is demanding an all-Mexican showdown.

Benavidez’s breakdown of Andrade eliminated any remaining doubts that Benavidez was the biggest threat to Canelo’s throne at 168 lbs. Benavidez wants the fight, and the fans want the fight. There is nowhere else for Canelo to turn. Canelo has never been one to turn down a challenge and now is the time for a huge legacy definer for both men.

Against Jermell Charlo, Canelo showed that he is not done yet. He has plenty left in the tank. He responded to those questioning whether he might be in decline with a dominant performance.

“Nobody can beat this Canelo,” Álvarez said afterward in the in-ring interview following the Charlo win. Now, many hold the belief that Benavidez can beat this version of Canelo, and Canelo needs to defend his throne.

It is the timing that makes this fight so fascinating. We have seen Canelo peak and reach the top of the mountain, and he is now arguably slipping ever so slightly but still very good on his night. We have not seen Benavidez reach the peak of the mountain yet, but he is marching up there. For Canelo to defeat Benavidez, it would take one of his absolute greatest performances in his Hall-of-Fame career, if not the greatest, to pull it off.

David Benavidez has options outside of Canelo Alvarez.

Benavidez is the man to show us if Canelo still has the fire and desire like old, and Canelo is the man to show us whether Benavidez has the makings to be the greatest fighter of his generation like he states he wants to be known as.

If Canelo vs Benavidez does not happen, there are other options for one of the most exciting fighters in the world.

David Morrell Jr does not have a significant following yet, but Benavidez vs Morrell would undoubtedly be a fascinating match-up.

In terms of the eye test, Morrell checks all the boxes. He has the poise, skill set, ring generalship, and power. The rangy Cuban southpaw has shown to be the complete package, capable of giving Benavidez problems. However, the 9-0 Morrell has yet to display his skill set against solid opponents.

Morrell has been calling Benavidez out for a while and holds the subsidiary version of the WBA super middleweight belt. You never know; Benavidez is a Morrell win away from basically cleaning out everyone but the top guy at super middleweight.

Jose Benavidez Sr, David’s father, stated prior to the Andrade fight that if the Canelo fight cannot be secured next, Benavidez will target light-heavyweight titleholders Dmitry Bivol and Artur Beterbiev.

Both are captivating, albeit dangerous, options. Last year, Canelo learned the hard way about Bivol’s ability, losing a unanimous decision. Moving up in weight to face a boxer as skillful, disciplined, and smart as Bivol can prove to be a real step back in someone’s career and a confidence dampener. Of course, we are talking about Benavidez here, not Canelo, and as the age-old saying in boxing goes, the very accurate saying, ‘styles make fights.’ Benavidez is taller and naturally bigger than Canelo.

These attributes can only be helpful for Benavidez against Bivol, and he may have a style more naturally suited to combat the Russian. Silky, slick boxers can often come undone against pressure fighters who allow no real space and time for them to find their rhythm, which Benavidez has done consistently throughout his career. Nevertheless, Bivol’s ring generalship and footwork would provide a significant challenge for Benavidez to overcome. Bivol’s work with that lead hand is exceptional, and he has brilliant control of distance. It would be a very difficult challenge for Benavidez, but Benavidez has always spoken about this fight with confidence, and he genuinely believes he is destined to be remembered as a great fighter and great fighters take great risks.

Regarding Beterbiev, that would have the makings of an absolute barnburner of a classic between two of the sport’s unstoppable forces. Beterbiev, the unified 175 lbs champion with a 100% KO ratio, is a fully-fledged light-heavyweight monster and would be able to match Benavidez’s physicality. Beterbiev obviously carries power, but his boxing ability is underrated, with great counter-punching ability, brilliant angles, a great judge of distance, with very good footwork and timing. Would Benavidez be able to handle blows from such heavy hands, the likes of which he will have never faced? Benavidez throws combinations that are hard to read, with speed and power and is relentless. Whether Beterbiev, at 38, would be able to keep up with Benavidez’s pace is interesting.

Jermall Charlo returned on the Benavidez - Andrade undercard with an easy unanimous decision win against Jose Benavidez Jr, looking impressive for a man out of the ring for two and a half years, but there was obvious ring rust, and Charlo may not be so eager to jump in with David off the back of that devastating performance against Andrade. If Charlo is keen, he is a very well-accomplished two-division champion and, on his night, one of the best in the business. Charlo has one of the best jabs in boxing, with experience and athleticism, and knows how to sell a fight. The fans would undoubtedly love this fight. Benavidez has expressed interest in making this fight if he cannot get Canelo. For now, momentum and timing favor Benavidez, and we shall see whether Charlo shares Benavidez’s desire to make this fight happen.

In the past, Canelo has brushed aside the possibility of facing Benavidez, but he can’t brush it aside anymore. “Who has he beat?” is not an argument that can hold up any longer. Canelo has always fought the best. We can’t question his mentality. Benavidez is undoubtedly a huge challenge, and there is no reason to think Canelo’s philosophy has changed.

Benavidez’s life will change with a Canelo fight. A fight for the undisputed super middleweight showdown is not only a legacy-definer for Benavidez, but it’s the one that pays like no other, too. It’s not just about the belts for Benavidez. It is facing Canelo for the belts that matter.

As fans, not only stylistically but with the timing of the fight, it would be an absolute pleasure to witness.

If Canelo does not fight Benavidez next, he is not being the great champion he should be.

“I’m definitely entering my prime. The passion I have for the sport,” Benavidez said as his voice broke and tears filled his eyes. “I just want to make my dad and my mother proud of me.”

(Featured Photo: Amanda Westcott/Showtime)

#SL #David Benavidez #Canelo Alvarez #Demetrius Andrade #David Morrell #Dmitry Bivol

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mtg-cards-hourly · 3 months

Photo

Fog

Artist: Harold McNeill TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

#mtg #magic the gathering #tcg #$0.40 #harold mcneill #fog #beatdown box set #instant

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flamingredanon · 2 years

Note

(A prompt in which Toppat leaders and Henry and ellie plus Sven and Burt try out the government's new form of interrogation. It's not fun.)

Reginald, Right, Ellie, Henry, Sven and Burt all woke up in an interrogation room, with the last memory all of them having is being in a shoot out with the government before everything went black. They were a little confused as to why all of them were in the same room, like that's not how interrogations work...

That's when the door to the room slid open and in came in was none other than the... Charles?

Henry: Charles?...

Ellie: oh it's you! What the hell is going on?!

Charles smiled, a confident thing that made the 6 feel a little uncomfortable.

Charles: What do you mean what's going on? This is an interrogation.

Right: well ya kinda doin a bad job at it.

Charles: well that's because I haven't started yet.

It was then that Charles moved out the way and a soldier walked in carrying a small box and a carton of milk?. Henry recognised the man instantly as Rupert.

Ellie: What the fuck is that???

Charles: Oh, the thing that'll get you to talk.

Charles rumaged through the box once Rupert set it down on the small table. Pulling out a.. triangle.. plastic thing. The triangle was black with red patches that kinda looked like a blood splatter design, written in white, stereotypical spooky letters were "The One Chip Challenge".

Burt: Oh I've heard of those.

All of them looked at Burt now, his criminal friends giving him a look of 'go on'.

Burt: um.. It's this big triangle chip thing that's like.. the spiciest chip ever made.. it's a challenge.

Ellie: Wait wait wait- the thing that your using to make us spill the beans is.. a spicy chip? Really?

Ellie burst into laughter and everyone else wasn't amused. Charles looked unbothered, shrugging.

Charles: I guess it does sound funny but... It won't be fun when you eat it.

One by one, each Toppat was given a Chip and instructed to eat ALL of it, in one go. They were not allowed milk or anything to soothe the heat. Which confused everyone because there was a carton of milk on the table but ok...

Charles: you may eat now.

Ellie: this is gonna be easy.

Henry: My stomach is not gonna like me after this...

Burt: down the hatch I guess.

Right: this is so fuckin stupid...

Reginald: sorry taste buds... But it is for the clan.

Sven: 🙏

And that was exactly what they did. They ate the chip. It tasted like shit. But no bother, this is gonna be easy...

Right?

*It was far from easy...*

After around 3 minutes, everyone was feeling it now. Henry was on the floor, curled up and occasionally rolling around, groaning. Right and burt were leaning against a wall, looking up whilst panting and tearing up. Ellie was pacing and panting, throwing curses into the air. Reginald and Sven were crying silently, panting and unable to stay still. Charles looked amused but sympathetic.

Sven cracked just after 5 minutes, sobbing and drooling all over the place, he reached for the milk, only to be stopped by Rupert, grinning at him.

Rupert: no milk, sorry.

Then the questioning began....

Charles: Why were you Toppats at the local mall today?

Sven, still panting: They were having sales!

Rupert: A likely story, what were you all doing there for real?

Reginald: We... we were just... shopping... we do that from time to time... now give us the milk!

Charles: Don't believe you. You Toppats had to be clearly up to something.

Burt yelling from across the room: They had sales! I needed a new snuggie and it was 50% off! This is torture!

Rupert looked at Charles before looking at the pained Toppats: You are all good at this. Even in pain you manage to lie.

Henry had enough of Rupert and Charles' shenanigans, getting up with tears in his eyes and lunging at the duo, beating them half to death while everyone else ran to the milk.

And it turned out the carton of milk was empty, having the rest of the Toppats join in the beatdown untill Galeforce unlocked the door and everyone else running free while Rupert and Charles made a mental note to never try that again.

#lizzyask #henry stickmin #right hand man #reginald copperbottom #charles calvin #rupert price #sven svensson #burt curtis #ellie rose #food mention #spicy #hot chip #pain #torture #interrogation #mild violence

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 287: Family Reunion

Previously on BnHA: The Tomura For One VS Deku And Pals clusterfuck reached new levels of clustfuckery as AFO possessed Tomura’s body and stabbed Kacchan and Endeavor. Shouto was all “good thing I leveled up offscreen so as to be able to fly around whilst carrying 400lbs worth of people”, and did just that and it was like, damn, son. Meanwhile Deku’s rage went Mach 100, and he kicked Tomura’s ass for almost two whole seconds, but in the process he apparently forgot that IF TOMURA TOUCHES HIM THAT IS VERY BAD, and so he stupidly let Tomura touch him and Tomura was all “GAME, SET.” Fortunately for Deku, his quirk plays by its own rules, and so the chapter ended with us cutting to the METAPHYSICAL OFA/AFO PARANORMAL DREAMSCAPE OF MYSTICAL BULLSHIT, where AFO!Vestige was all “lol Tomura y u mad”, and Nana!Vestige was all “SUP DEKU, YOU’RE JUST IN TIME, LOOKS LIKE IT’S ASSKICKING O’CLOCK.” I’m paraphrasing a bit, but that’s more or less the gist of it.

Today on BnHA: AFO is all “well if it isn’t Tomura’s grandmother who I murdered that one time”, and Deku is all “?”, and AFO is all “fucking vestiges, man, wild”, and Deku is all “??”, and AFO is all “ANYWAYS GETTIM TOMURA”, and OFA is all “NOT SO FAST”, and Deku is all “???”, and really, same. AFO then goes off on some wild tangent about how Deku is unworthy because he couldn’t protect everyone and needed help from OFA and got mad about his friends being stabbed, which is such a cold take it gave me hypothermia, but it ends up not mattering since Deku and Tomura both wake up seconds later with OFA still in the possession of its rightful owner, HOW ABOUT THAT. The chapter ends with the LoV approaching on Gigantomachia’s back with Dabi practically salivating at the mouth, and Toga trying to reignite an old fandom blood feud. Toga why would you do this to me. Toga.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS

[CROWD LOSING THEIR MINDS] FINALLY THE NANA HAS COME BACK TO BNHA!! IF YA SMELLLLL WHAT THE NANA IS COOKIN!!!!! [RINGSIDE BELL CHIMING WILDLY] [LOUD AIRHORN NOISES]

“chapter 287: mistake” omg. yeah I’ll say you made a mistake, AFO. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THESE FLEETING LAST MOMENTS OF YOUR SHITTY EVIL LIFE

(ETA: so in all seriousness this must be referring to AFO’s belief that All Might/OFA made a mistake in choosing Deku, right? “I can’t believe you went and chose this shounen manga protagonist as your champion, what were you thinking.” I’ll just put this out there: however many comic books AFO read as a child, it clearly was not enough.)

wow Deku how slow are you

yes you’re inside OFA you dimbulb, did you think your clothes suddenly vanished out of the blue and the ghost of Nana just randomly appeared in the real world by some freak coincidence?? can you believe this kid. breaks his arms a measly 10-15 times in a row and all of a sudden he can’t think straight, get it together Deku

but also brb having a moment at the fact that his thoughts immediately run back to Kacchan, even with all of this nonsense going on and Nana about to lay the beatdown on AFO’s potato-lookin’ ass. forget that noise, all he wants to know is whether or not Kacchan is all right. fuckin’ geez. AM I OVERREACTING HERE A BIT. probably

(ETA: ALSO!! the way he just trails off!! “Kacchan is...” and then he can’t bring himself to complete the thought. oh my god my heart.)

HOLY SHIT

okay,

damn but this man sure knows how to ruffle my feathers. as eminently detestable as ever!!

could it be any clearer here that AFO is not on Tomura’s side?? for a moment I thought he had actually grabbed him by the back of the head in order to get him to look. but nope, he’s just resting his pointing hand on top of his head instead while he’s all “HEY TOMURA LOL IT’S THE GHOST OF YOUR DEAD PATHETIC GRANDMA”

for those keeping track at home, this would be the first time that Deku has heard this information -- that Tomura is Nana’s grandson -- and possibly the first time Vestige!Nana has heard it as well. Nana died when Kotarou was still a child, so for all we know the Vestige!Nana didn’t even know she had a grandson, lol. TODAY ON “MAKESTE RANTS AT LENGTH ABOUT THINGS THAT WILL PROBABLY BE ADDRESSED WITHIN THE NEXT THREE PANELS”, anyway moving on

lmao for the record I fucking LOLed at this giant question mark immediately bubbling up over Deku’s head

no idea what AFO is about to ramble on about now, haven’t read that far yet. but let the record show that Deku’s immediate reaction to hearing “BTW NANA IS YOUR ARCHNEMESIS’S GRANDMA LULZ” is everything I could have hoped for

(ETA: fandom nailed the shit out of this one with the confused Mr. Krabs meme lmao.)

okay so now AFO is monologuing at length about how he would sometimes have “riveting dreams” about the previous owners of all the quirks he stole. but once he gave the quirks away they stopped bothering him?? holy moly let me just take all the notes

okay so he’s saying that Vestiges are created whenever someone has their quirk stolen by AFO. but if they then disappear when he gives the quirks away, does that also mean that whoever receives the quirks also gets the original owner’s Vestige bundled in every time?? that would be wild okay hold up let me read the rest of this

so he’s saying that the Vestiges are actually the “consciousnesses” of the original quirk owners, which have become embedded in their dna or something. SOUNDS INCREDIBLY DUBIOUS TO ME LOL but on the other hand this is a world where children can be born with airplane heads, so my disbelief can hardly afford to pick and choose what it’s gonna be suspended at! anyways though, how does he know he’s the only one who was able to converse with them? did you conduct detailed six-month follow-up interviews with everyone you gave quirks to or what

and if it really is the case that this ability was formerly exclusive to him, isn’t that more evidence than ever that OFA and AFO are actually THE EXACT SAME QUIRK oh whoops am I getting ahead of myself again, sorry

MEANWHILE TOMURA IS ALL, “GRANDMA?”

“WHY AM I HERE, WELL LET ME TELL YOU A STORY, GRANDSON. YOU SEE THAT MAN GROWING OUT OF YOUR RIBCAGE THERE? WELL IT’S JUST THE FUNNIEST THING, ACTUALLY”

WAIT SO IS HE SAYING THEY’RE SOULS OR NOT??

this makes it sound like they won’t ever get to rest, which sure sounds like a soul thing to me. well whatever, soul, consciousness, I guess it’s just semantics at the end of the day

anyways though, so this asshole is finally done talking (I’m sure that won’t last), so now we can finally have the heartwarming reunion we’ve all been waiting for

sigh

-- actually, no, not “sigh”!! you know what!! because Tomura says “whatever the reason”, but that’s only because he doesn’t actually have a fucking clue about the reason. like, I don’t know if the knowledge that AFO killed Nana would be enough to give him pause, but if he knew the whole story and knew that AFO was behind not only Nana’s death, but the rest of his family’s deaths as well... now that would be a whole different thing

anyway. but at least it’s becoming clearer now why AFO spent all that time raising Tomura up as his heir and brainwashing him even though he seems to have been planning this body takeover the whole time. it’s all because he loves making people miserable! yaaaaay

btw HAS NANA HAD THE EXACT SAME MOLE ON HER CHIN AS TOMURA THIS ENTIRE TIME WTF. am I just the least observant person who ever lived lmao

lol wtf

ground: [randomly starts exploding]

Deku: “ONE FOR ALL IS BEING ERODED!!!” LOL IS THAT WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE, OKAY THEN. I’ll take your word for it

y’all I cannot fucking get over this “AFO growing out of Tomura’s hip socket like a fucked-up ventriloquist dummy” shit though

you do realize that absolutely no one can take you seriously right now, right?? it’s important to me that you know this

WHAT’S THIS NOW

seems like SOMEONE has had it up to here with a certain SOMEONE ELSE’S bullshit lmaooo bye Felicia

I SAID GOOD DAY!!

you guys why is he not dying!!

-- OH DAMN

love how Deku is just lying there like “YOU KNOW THOSE DAYS WHERE YOU’RE LIKE, THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN.” poor Deku

(ETA: where in god’s name is OFA Prime standing. why are my thoughts fully consumed by this lmao.)

are Nana and OFA Prime even doing anything?? why are they sticking their arms out like that. wait hold up is this all a big metaphor for the back-and-forth going on between Tomura trying to steal OFA and OFA being all “actually no you can’t, please enter your password and click on all the boxes with bicycles in them to prove you’re a human first”?

OH SNAP OFA PRIME SAID NO THANKS

“SORRY BRO WE’VE ALREADY MADE OURSELVES AT HOME HERE”

I have only just noticed that metaphysical!Deku has the same scars as actual!Deku. and yet his arms are not currently broken! that doesn’t really seem consistent to me but whatever!! maybe he saved right before the boss battle, that would be smart of him

anyway, that’s great and all that OFA Prime is here helping out, but I really wanted to see Nana fight AFO in a one on one though so I’m a bit disappointed. also why is it only the two of them?? where are Banjou and the others. of all the times to be sleeping on the job

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THIS MAN

WOULD YOU STOP. WOULD YOU JUST QUIT IT ALREADY

oh shit hold up

doesn’t this confirm that the reason he wanted to transfer his power to Tomura is because he believed it would make him strong enough to finally take OFA because of Quirk Singularity? jesus christ. and here he was so sure of himself. but it turns out he doesn’t actually know shit! you can’t just fucking take OFA like that ya dingdong that’s not how it works

(ETA: SO, A THOUGHT -- is there any sort of subtle hinting here in the way that he words this? “if your strength is combined with mine”, as opposed to “if my strength is combined with yours”? no idea if the admittedly-so-small-as-to-be-almost-inconsequential distinction between those two sentences exists in the original Japanese or not, but I find it very interesting that the English wording implies that he’s the one adding Tomura’s strength to his own, rather than vice versa.)

now he’s insulting Deku!!

excuse me sir WHO ASKED YOU anyway. and never mind that being consumed by an, AND I QUOTE, “unquenchable” rage is your protege’s whole THING, and that he also needed your help to avoid being burned to a crisp a short while ago. where do you get off I swear

(ETA: also just want to point out that in the panel before this one he says that he’s been “watching through Tomura”, which pretty much confirms that his consciousness or whatever is alive inside of him all the time. Tomura is definitely not getting rid of this guy any time soon.)

WOW

first he calls Kacchan useless, then he calls Deku a simpleton, and don’t even get me started with Nana. just, you guys. this man is just... a very, very rude man

NOW OFA IS ALL “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT MAKES HIM SUCH A GOOD PROTAGNIST YOU BUTTMUNCH” AND OMG PREACH

“DESPITE HIS COMMON SENSE” sdfkllk my man he already has one brother roasting him, take it easy guy

AHH WHAT

IS THIS BACK IN THE REAL WORLD

YEP

hahaha nice try Tomura

so Deku’s all “I didn’t lose my power! BUT” and I assume the “but” is the part where his arms are still broken and shit, and meanwhile Tomura’s body is almost healed up now finally

they’re both wiped out and now AFO is again petitioning Tomura to let him take over goddammit

“you won’t lose your mind” yep, he sure won’t! scout’s honor!! pinky swear!!

meanwhile Deku is getting fucking desperate flkjl;k my baby. and Machia is going to show up any second now too, probably. what else can fucking go wrong at this point

oh shit I shouldn’t have asked

get ready to rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuumble, probably

OH MY GOD

WELL AT LEAST SOMEONE HERE IS HAVING A GOOD TIME. jesus

so as soon as he heard Endeavor was there he got all, “TIME FOR THE BIG REVEAL”, is that right? WELL JOKE’S ON YOU TOUYA, YOUR DAD DOESN’T SEEM ALL THAT CONSCIOUS AT THE MOMENT, SO THAT’S GOING TO DRAIN A LOT OF THE TENSION FROM THE SCENE WHEN YOU GO ALL REVERSE DARTH VADER ON HIM AND HE’S ALL “ZZZZZZZZ”

meanwhile Toga is having unsettlingly quiet angst

jesus christ Toga this is all we need right now

“WAS JIN-KUN NOT A PERSON” sdkfjlk Horikoshi I swear. please have mercy on this fandom. this is the debate that refuses to die!!

but seriously ffs, the issue isn’t that Jin deserved to die, it’s that the countless people whom Jin would have either directly or indirectly killed didn’t deserve to die either. people don’t only become people when you attach names and faces to them! we all loved Jin because we’d gotten to know him, but that doesn’t mean his life was inherently worth more than the lives of all the people he would have killed. sometimes there’s just no good answer

like, it’s just crazy to me that because the heroes are all “we want to protect everyone!” but then aren’t always able to do so because that’s literally impossible, whereas the villains are all “we don’t care about anyone other than the select few people that we actually like!”, the villains somehow wind up getting the better PR. it just so happens that it’s infinitely easier to be loyal to the interests of a few people as opposed to ALL THE PEOPLE. like, no shit, it’s easier to stick to your moral code when you barely have a moral code. and so the villains can kill thousands and no one bats an eye, but if a hero fails to save even one person they’re hypocritical moral failures. like what the hell

BUT ANYWAY, sorry to go off on a tangent there lol, it’s not really a big deal. I’m just preemptively trying to stave off more discourse about it lol but who am I even kidding

anyways lol, but of course they won’t kill you unless they have no choice, Toga. but when it comes to catch-22 situations, it’s a bit much to infer that the heroes don’t consider the villains people just because they opt for the choice that spares more innocent lives. I sure as hell don’t want my babies out here killing people, but to say that they can’t no matter what or else they’re no different from the villains is just...

anyway so the chapter has now just ENDED, just like that!! on a shot of Ochako’s face!

I SENSE ANOTHER THROWDOWN COMING. and it had better not be a total letdown like the last one! NANA BARELY DID ANYTHING HORIKOSHI, WHAT THE FUCK. I started out with such high hopes lol

but I will settle for Toga VS Ochako, and Deku VS Tomura: The Sequel: Shouto’s Revenge! SPEAKING OF HEROES WHO HAVE NO QUALMS ABOUT MURDERING PEOPLE lmao

#bnha 287 #shigaraki tomura #all for one #shimura nana #midoriya izuku #one for all #lil bro when are you gonna get yourself a proper name so I can tag you #himiko toga #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #ofa the first

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rovelae · 3 years

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Behind the Scenes of “Hologram”

Today marks exactly one year since I posted arguably my most popular fic. “Hologram” is a postgame Saiouma one-shot about escapism, loneliness, and running away from the past. I put a lot of myself into this fic and I’m blown away by all the love it’s received, not only on AO3 but in Discord servers and other social media. All that excitement made me keep thinking about it, so I thought I’d share a (very self-indulgent) behind-the-scenes of sorts about how I wrote it, as well as what I think of the story.

This essay will contain spoilers for the whole fic, so if you’d like to read it first, you can find it here. Of course, if the tags scare you off, that’s valid, but you might want to skip this post too since I’ll be quoting it throughout (so, just to be safe, expect the warnings I’ve posted on AO3 to apply here too).

If you’re a Lorde fan you’ll recognize the lyrics in the fic summary – “Nothing’s wrong when nothing’s true,” from “Buzzcut Season.” The inspiration for this fic came to me while I was on my way to an early shift at work, and I needed a good song in my head to give me the will to live for the next eight hours. Not sure why I chose that song in particular, but maybe part of it is because I like imagining stories to go along with the songs I listen to, like AMVs playing in my head, and I’d never been able to pin down exactly what this song reminded me of.

The mood of the music is really what compelled me – there’s something lonely about it, and the lyrics sound like the singer’s trying to convince herself that everything’s okay even when all evidence points otherwise. There are “explosions on TV”, and “The men up on the news / They try to tell us all that we will lose,” but “we live beside the pool / Where everything is good.” Despite everything going wrong, despite the notes of fear creeping into the pre-chorus, the character will “play along… in a hologram with you” and “never go home again.”

From there, it was an easy jump to “postgame Saiou” and that was that.

There’s a cloud of seagulls hovering in the air around him, and a dozen or so more standing just out of reach, staring him down with beady black eyes. Kokichi takes a slice of bread from the loaf he’s holding and tosses it to one of the birds, watches it catch it and stumble under the weight, watches its head bob as it tries to swallow the whole thing at once. It gets remarkably far before four other birds descend on it, shrieking wildly.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles into his folded arms, wondering if Shuichi would get the reference.

He really wishes Shuichi was here.

Kokichi upends the rest of the loaf of bread onto the sidewalk and laughs at the resulting chaos until his chest aches.

To start off, I wanted to create the same lonely mood from “Buzzcut Season” in Kokichi’s simulation. He’s not exactly trapped there, but he’s refusing to leave, because as long as he’s on the fake Jabberwock Island, he can pretend the killing game never happened. The trade-off to that escapism is that the only people he can talk to are the NPCs, who aren’t complex enough to be remotely interesting to him, and Usami, who… well, tries her best, but is more of an informational / moderation program and can’t offer him what a therapist could.

The only thing Kokichi has to look forward to is Shuichi, who he’s convinced is an extremely lifelike computer program rather than the real thing, because the real Shuichi would definitely hate him for everything that happened during the killing game. He’s so locked into this line of logic that he doesn’t let himself consider that Shuichi has forgiven him – he doesn’t even have a good answer for why the Future Foundation wouldn’t just keep the supposed Shuichi AI on indefinitely, believing it’s their way of baiting him into leaving the simulation.

It’s not a healthy or sustainable lifestyle in the slightest, but Kokichi stubbornly refuses to do anything but wander the islands aimlessly, passing the time with ice cream and feeding seagulls until the next time he can see Shuichi.

He dreams that DICE is here in the simulation with him, smiling and carefree as they explore the weird music venue. One of them has gotten the karaoke machine working, and another found a box of kazoos and maracas in the back room. Kokichi already pities anyone unfortunate enough to walk by the building tonight.

“Not going to sing, Joker?” one of his DICE asks (over the sound of their youngest member shrieking through seven kazoos at once), sitting on the bench next to him.

“Some games are more fun to watch than play,” he answers, leaning back on his hands and sighing.

“Like a killing game.”

The warm dream-atmosphere turns cold then, and Kokichi’s head snaps over to look at him—but his brother is gone and Kaito’s looking back at him instead, blood in his teeth and face ashen pale.

“You... we don’t have to do this, man,” Kaito says, but it’s a lie and they both know it, and he doesn’t want to look behind him because he knows the machine’s looming over him with its unyielding steel and slow slow slow descent—

“You’re not real,” he snaps at dream-Kaito, who doesn’t respond except to lift him up again. “Nothing’s real, none of—PUT ME DOWN! LET GO OF ME! DON’T PUT ME BACK IN THERE!”

“Death is more mercy than you deserve,” Kaito says, and Kokichi claws and bites and kicks his way out of Kaito’s grasp like a wild animal, only to end up in front of a prison cell full of—

DICE, his beloved DICE, trapped and hurt and afraid, bloodied and beaten and helpless.

“Why didn’t you save us, boss?” says his second-in-command, clutching the bars with bleeding hands. “Why didn’t you do more? Now we’re all dead and it’s because of you.”

Moments like this are my reference to Buzzcut Season’s pre-chorus, where the not-okay starts to creep into the illusion. Despite Kokichi’s valiant efforts to forget, he’s still dealing with the aftermath of seeing his family hurt and in danger, watching his friends die, orchestrating the deaths of two of them, being killed himself— and then being told every bit of it was made up to entertain an audience who sees nothing wrong with that picture. Running away is not the way to heal from trauma, and one day soon it’s all bound to come crashing down around him.

“Do you know what this … island paradise represents, Kokichi?” [Hinata] asks, and Kokichi’s really not in the mood for a lecture but he continues anyway. “Jabberwock Island … was the setting for the fiftieth season of Danganronpa. The golden anniversary, they called it. It was my season.”

Kokichi hunches over, hugging his arms over his torso and stifiling a scream. He does not want to think about this right now—

“They wanted it to be the best season of all, which, unfortunately for us, meant it was also the bloodiest,” Hinata says. “Twice as many participants, deadly traps hidden across each of the islands— they even changed the way the motives worked, like when they told Fuyuhiko to cut out his own eye so Peko could have a quick death instead of suffering for days.”

“Do I look like your therapist, porcupine-head?” Kokichi hisses. A sharp pain is pounding into his skull, and there’s a bitter, metallic taste at the back of his throat. A taste like poison and blood.

“There was so much going on that the simulation malfunctioned,” Hinata says. “When people died, their Ultimate talents downloaded themselves into me. I’m told that the stress of so many personality grafts came close to liquefying my frontal lobe. I’m lucky I woke up at all… especially considering more than half of the others didn’t.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kokichi grates out through the static building in his head. If he opens his eyes, will he see the beach or the dull chrome of the machine closing in on him?

“Because I know how much you want to forget about what happened,” Hinata says. “Believe me, I get it.”

….

“These things that happened to us… we can’t erase them, no matter how much we want to. Some things have to be remembered.”

I’d mostly like to leave Hajime’s season up to interpretation, but there are a couple things I wanted to say about it. I imagine Danganronpa is like the Hunger Games in that it’d go all out for big anniversaries. So, there were twice as many participants for the Jabberwock Island beatdown that was probably subtitled “Bloodbath Bay” or something equally appealing. The game’s formula changed from a focus on the mystery and the trials to “look at all these kids massacring each other a la Lord of the Flies,” and since the VR system wasn’t equipped to handle that many people and their deaths, it malfunctioned, giving Hajime way too many Ultimate talents and putting half the cast into comas from which they never woke up.

Viewers either absolutely loved or absolutely hated this season, depending on whether they were DR fans because of the “blood n’ guts” factor or the “mystery and psychological thriller” aspect. Team Danganronpa faced quite a bit of backlash for actually causing the real-life deaths of half its participants, but were able to weasel their way out of serious legal repercussions because of the waivers the participants had signed beforehand (plus a lot of bribery and falling back on their longstanding popularity). So, the cast of Season 50 failed to end the killing game, but helped provide great evidence for the “Danganronpa is morally wrong” argument.

Hajime works as a victim liaison for the Future Foundation and has been trying to take down Danganronpa since he got out of it. He’s like that in a few of my fics, actually; I like the idea of Hajime acting as a big brother of sorts to the V3 cast. It’s especially entertaining to imagine his interactions with Kokichi— though maybe not so much in Hologram, since to Kokichi he’s a representation of the past he’s trying so desperately to forget and the future he refuses to acknowledge.

“SHUT UP!” He launches himself at Hinata, his hands wrapping around the other man’s throat as he uses his momentum to slam him to the ground. “SHUT! UP!”

“Ko— ghk—” Hinata coughs, eyes wide with surprise, but aside from moving his hands up to grip Kokichi’s wrists, he doesn’t seem all that worried about fighting back.

The thought only fuels Kokichi’s rage until he’s choking Hinata so hard his knuckles are white. “If you want me out of this simulation so badly, you can kill me,” he snarls. “I’m never waking up! I’m never leaving, do you UNDERSTAND ME?”

Hinata grimaces, the outline of his avatar flickering, but he still doesn’t struggle, and Kokichi hates him all the more for it, despises him with a seething malice that festers low in his stomach. He wonders distantly if he’d actually kill this man in real life. Or if he’d be able to stop himself, feeling like this.

Kokichi’s breakdown here is more out of fear than anger. Like I mentioned, Kokichi sees Hajime as another piece of what’s hurt him, and no matter how Hajime tries to help, Kokichi will always remember Danganronpa whenever he sees him.

Warm yellow-orange light casts a relaxed, cozy glow over the dining hall. It’s an ambience compounded by the flickering candles on the table, which seems overly idyllic, but Kokichi will let it slide because of the adorable way Shuichi flushed when he noticed them as they sat down. Well, if he’s being honest, everything about Shuichi right now is adorable, from the way his hair keeps falling into his eyes to the way he’s nervously fiddling wth his chopsticks. Kokichi wishes he could keep staring at him forever.

Ah, not… not in a weird way, though, just… because Shuichi’s beautiful, and when Kokichi looks at him he can forget everything bad that’s ever happened, can create some new and brighter world to exist in.

This is an idea I wish I’d had room to explore a bit more in the story— that is, just how far Kokichi will go to pretend everything’s fine. I thought about making him border on delusional, like having him talk to people who aren’t there or forget what’s actually happening around him because he’s so lost in his fiction-within-a-fiction. It would have creeped Shuichi out a whole lot.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much room for that past the plot I’d already nailed down, so I focused on his loneliness and escapism instead. I do touch on it later in this scene, though— the couple paragraphs where he slips into fantasizing about being a phantom thief having a surreptitious meeting with his detective under the not-so-subtle supervision of his DICE. There would have been a lot more of that if I’d gone with the ‘delusion’ stylistic choice, to the point where even the readers would be confused about what’s real. Maybe I’ll look into writing something similar in a future story.

Eventually, Shuichi sets down his bowl and looks away with a little sigh, and Kokichi clenches his teeth because that’s the sigh he does when it’s time for that conversation.

“Um… Kokichi?”

Kokichi’s only response is to exhale the breath he’d been holding in a quiet hiss.

“I-I know you don’t want to, but… but I really need to talk to you about something,” Shuichi says. “Please?”

“My Mr. Detective can talk about whatever he’d like!” Kokichi says with a lilt to his tone that makes it sound more sarcastic than he wants it to. He takes the last bite of curry and wishes that it burns hot enough to hurt.

“It’s about Kaito.”

This more serious part of the date scene is meant to reflect the little bridge in “Buzzcut Season”:

“Cola with the burnt-out taste

I’m the one you tell your fears to

There’ll never be enough of us.”

It’s a part of the song that sounds especially bittersweet to me, a bit of self-awareness between the insistence that everything’s okay.

Really all I think I managed was to reference it when Kokichi’s internal dialogue comments on his drink being “so sweet it tastes burnt” and then later not tasting like anything. But hopefully the mood’s still there.

“Tell him… that I have nothing against him,” he says.

“That’s … not a lie?” Shuichi presses.

Kokichi shakes his head idly, still not raising his gaze. “I wanted to wreck the killing game and he wanted to save his friend. We both got what we wanted. I’d say the end more than justifies the means.”

Was that a lie?

(I don’t want to die Shuichi I’m sorry I’m sorry save me Shuichi please I’m sorry ithurtsmakeitstop—)

His fingers tighten into clawlike shapes, nails digging sharply into his forearms.

I really don’t think Kokichi would have anything against Kaito, even if here he’s not being completely honest with how much he’s affected by what happened. It wouldn’t make sense to him to hate Kaito for something he himself proposed, but I think there’d still be a subconscious barrier between them. Too much history.

“Don’t go, Shuichi, I’m so sorry, I— that was so dumb, what I said, please don’t be sad anymore.” He’s not sure if he can’t breathe because of the exertion of running or because of the hysteria boiling over in his head. “Please don’t go, I didn’t mean to hurt you— please don’t leave, Shuichi, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Kokichi….” Shuichi’s tone is strange, soft and pitying, like he sees something Kokichi doesn’t, and he shakes his head slowly as more tears follow the paths of the others.

Kokichi goes to his knees, ready to grovel if that’s what it takes, but Shuichi follows him down, closing his other hand over Kokichi’s, and then they’re both crying and he doesn’t know why, and all he can do is repeat a mantra of I’m sorry and hold on as tight as he can.

It’s horrible. Shuichi’s horrible. Shuichi’s wonderful, and kind and lovely and perfect and Kokichi hates him, Kokichi adores him, and it doesn’t matter because Shuichi’s not actually here but Kokichi doesn’t want to be alone, just let me pretend some more, please, please let me have this—

“I’ll… I’ll stay,” Shuichi says at last. “I can stay a while longer.”

You shouldn’t, Kokichi wants to say, but his mouth won’t obey him. You shouldn’t stay if you don’t want to. I don’t deserve having you here. I’m not worth your mercy.

But there on the bridge, crying tears of relief, he soaks up as much mercy as he can get and hopes it’s enough to drown him.

I wanted to create a contrast between them that highlights just how the isolation and trauma Kokichi’s experiencing has affected him. He has an almost unhealthy reliance on Shuichi as “the only thing that makes this world bearable,” and panics when faced with the prospect of being alone again so soon. Part of why Shuichi’s crying is because he’s realized the extent of Kokichi’s desperation. It’s not that he thinks Kokichi’s apology is insincere, but that he’s hardly heard him apologize for anything before, so Kokichi going this far has him realizing how bad things really are.

The door rumbles and slides open when they approach, revealing the bright light of the log-out point that took Shuichi away every time, that would wake Kokichi up in his real body if he walked into it. Shuichi stops just a step away from it, biting his lip as if searching for something to say, but before he can find it, Kokichi reaches out to tug at his sleeve.

“Shuichi?” he says, distant as the waves on the beach that he can still hear if he listens closely enough. Shuichi turns back toward him. “Before you go, can I be selfish one more time?”

“Huh…?”

Shuichi doesn’t move when Kokichi steps closer, reaches up to ghost his fingertips over Shuichi’s jaw and around the back of his neck. He lets Kokichi tilt his head downward, lets him hover inches away, close enough to feel their breath mingle in the night air. Kokichi pauses there to give him the chance to pull away. He doesn’t.

So Kokichi closes his eyes and the distance between them.

That last line is a ZEUGMA! It’s a literary device where one word refers to two more in a different way. A popular example is the hyenas’ line “Our teeth and ambitions are bared” from The Lion King. It’s my favorite grammatical trick and I’d love to see more of it in fanfic.

Slowly, he slides his hand down to Shuichi’s shoulder, using it as leverage to push himself away. That hurts even more. He can’t seem to open his eyes, and he feels so weakened, breathless, fragile. Cracked open, hollowed out.

When he finally does open his eyes, Shuichi’s are wide with some mix of astonishment and a dozen other emotions. Kokichi bows his head, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I just wanted to know.”

“Kokichi,” Shuichi breathes, like a bullet through his heart.

“Goodbye, Shuichi,” Kokichi says, and shoves him into the light.

Shuichi’s little yelp of surprise cuts off abruptly as he falls through the door, vanishing into the glow, and all too soon, Kokichi’s alone again in a dream that suddenly seems far too vast. Alone, with the faintest taste of Shuichi’s lips still lingering on his own.

And he thinks, It was enough just to know you.

It’s a lie.

Nothing to say here except that this is my favorite scene and I’m so happy with how it turned out.

Fake sun rises over fake ocean, fake seagulls glide through fake sky while fake wind tousles fake palm fronds. Kokichi lies on his stomach in the fake grass and talks to his fake family in the fake notebook. Gives them fake names and runs through everything he remembers about them. Apologizes, over and over, wishes he could hug each of them goodbye one last time. Wonders if it would be more painful to die or to never have existed at all.

He leaves the notebook of his memories on the seat of one of the Ferris wheel cars on the fourth island, because one time he promised them they’d steal the London Eye together.

He buys a can of fake soda from the fake convenience store on the first island and sits on the fake beach watching the fake waves. Wonders when he’d hit the end of the simulation if he started swimming, or if he’d drown first.

White sand, blue sea, bluer sky. Washed out, like an amateur watercolor painting.

He opens the soda can and raises it to his mouth, but … even the thought of drinking it makes him sick to his stomach. He sets it down in the sand and flicks it over, watching the bubbly liquid run down and sink into the sand. The color’s all wrong, like blood streaked against a metal floor.

He walks the fake streets of the fifth island, passing fake skyscrapers and fake commuters and their fake conversations, until he finally stops outside the factory he’s never been able to bring himself to go into. Smells like oil, and metal and machines and he can hear the sounds and he’s immediately back in the hangar, dizzy on adrenaline and desperation and leaning heavily on Kaito so he doesn’t keel over and die then and there. Kaito says something about how maybe he should sit down for a minute, and Kokichi didn’t agree back then but he does now, goes down on all fours and dry heaves.

When his vision solidifies and he can stop gasping for breath, he sits up and presses his back against the factory wall, covering his ears and hiding his face in his knees. Tries to convince himself not to imagine Shuichi’s there with him, holding his hand again, promising everything’s going to be okay.

“I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you anymore,” or maybe, “Breathe with me, it’ll be over soon. You’re safe now.”

I love you.

He laughs until there’s nothing left in his lungs. He called these little daydreams obsession, before, but now they just seem sick and insane.

I wanted to indicate throughout this scene that Kokichi’s gotten substantially worse. Instead of halfheartedly interacting with the NPCs or finding something to spend time doing, he’s aimlessly wandering the islands, focused on how fake all of it is. Not even talking to his sketches of DICE can make him feel better. The suicidal ideation starts to slip in even if he doesn’t realize it— a fixation on wondering what death is like, purposefully triggering himself by walking by the factory….

The thing I want to talk about most though is the italicized I love you. I left it outside of quotation marks and dialogue tags on purpose because I wanted it to be ambiguous as to who’s saying it. If it’s Kokichi’s line, it’s sudden and almost out of place, like he couldn’t hold back from thinking it anymore. But it could be Shuichi saying it, too. Since it’s outside quotation marks, unlike the previous dream-Shuichi lines, it’s more vague, almost a whisper in Kokichi’s thoughts— like he can barely bring himself to imagine it and even feels guilty doing so, because there’s no way it could possibly be real.

Which do you think?

Eh, I don’t have an answer. When I hear it in my head, they say it at the same time.

“How did you know?” he finally croaks.

Shuichi’s breathing still sounds shaky, too. “Because you said ‘goodbye,’” he says.

Kokichi finally looks up at him in a silent question.

“You never say goodbye,” Shuichi says, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes. “It’s always….”

“‘See you later,’” Kokichi finishes for him. Despite himself, a tiny huff of astonished laughter escapes him. “I didn’t even know, not until a couple of hours ago. And you figured it all out from one word?”

Shuichi bites his lip at that. “You kissed me,” he says.

Kokichi’s stomach twists and he looks away. “I said I was sorry—”

“No.” Shuichi squeezes his hand into a fist and lets it fall to thump against Kokichi’s chest, like he’s trying to knock some sense into him. “It was so honest, and vulnerable, and… and I know how much you hate showing how you really feel.” Another tiny sob catches in his throat. “And so it felt like … like something you’d do if you weren’t going to s-see me again.”

“Shuichi….” Kokichi trails off as Shuichi muffles his cries in his hand again. He’s so breathtakingly smart. There’s no one else in the world who thinks that way, no one else who could possibly be that attentive and that clever. Not a programmer, not a team of shrinks… how can an AI manage it? How is it that Shuichi always manages to take him by surprise? How can he see straight through him when he least expects it?

Kokichi’s hand reaches up to Shuichi’s cheek. Reverently traces the path of the tears falling down it.

“I wish you were real,” he confesses in a whisper.

Kokichi’s stubborn. So, so stubborn. And he’s not used to being cared about, if the way he does everything by himself is any indication. So it makes sense to me that he’ll refuse to believe anything good can happen to him even in the face of convincing evidence. He’s pretty self-hating for someone so arrogant.

Kokichi’s weak, deep down to his core, weak for this man. Already knows he’d do anything for him, and the thought is terrifying—that one person could have that much power over him, even if he doesn’t realize it.

But what if he has realized it? Couldn’t this all be an elaborate ruse, a lie he knew Kokichi would be so desperate to believe that he wouldn’t bother questioning it?

…Shuichi’s never hurt him, though. Only that one time, when he really deserved it. Shuichi wouldn’t … betray him, even for what he thinks is Kokichi’s own good. They’re… different from each other, that way.

But still….

“I’m so scared, Shuichi.” It’s barely a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“You won’t be.” It’s so hard to be skeptical, lost in his eyes. “I’ll be right there with you, for as long as you want. I won’t let you feel like this anymore.”

Promise me, he wants to blurt out. Promise you’ll stay. Promise me you’ll never leave me, Shuichi, he wants to demand, but that’s wrong, that’s manipulative and selfish and everything he doesn’t want to be for Shuichi anymore.

Shuichi, of course, says it anyway.

“I promise, Kokichi.”

…

“Kiss me again,” he says. “Please?”

Shuichi leans in close, then pauses, his brow furrowing the way it does when he catches him in a lie.

“I’ll kiss you again in the real world,” Shuichi says. “Okay?”

Kokichi shakes his head. “Shuichi, please.” Please, I don’t think I can do this. Please, I don’t want to wake up to a lie. Please, one last kiss for me to remember in case it was all fake.

Shuichi reaches out to tilt his chin up and Kokichi closes his eyes, savoring every second, burning it into his memory.

Shuichi’s soft breath ghosts over his lips.

“Trust me,” he murmurs.

Kokichi’s eyes flutter back open, searching his face. Shifting him around on the white board in his head, seeing what categories he fits into this time. Weird, of course. Suspicious, maybe not. Trustworthy?

Trustworthy….

“I do trust you,” he realizes.

Kokichi’s still hesitant to accept all of this— Shuichi kissing him didn’t magically fix everything. He’ll still doubt all the way to the log-out point, but at least now he realizes that this simulation is only hurting him— that if things are to get better they’re going to have to change, too. He’s got a long way to go before he’s all right, but he’s not going to have to face it alone anymore.

And that’s a wrap!

Once again, I’m really proud of this story, and I feel like I grew as a writer because of it. There are a few things I would change if I wrote it again, but for all its flaws it’s still my baby and I like how it turned out.

Thanks again for all your support for “Hologram,” and thanks even more if you actually waded through all this nonsense of a director’s cut. It’s a huge confidence-boost to think that people liked what I wrote, and even wanted to hear what I had to say about it. If there’s any interest, I’d love to review some of my other fics here, or theorize or brainstorm or whatever else you’re into. (Ask me what Byakuya’s Thing is in my superhero AU, I dare you 😉)

I do have a WIP in my folder of bits and pieces currently titled “boy finally gets that kiss”, and it’s a post-Hologram scene from Shuichi’s point of view to just sorta… tie it all together, have them talk things over again… and kiss, of course. We’ll see if anything comes out of that.

Until next time!

#Rov talks #Hologram #Saiouma #Oumasai #Behind the scenes #Director's cut #Fanfic review

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elkian · 2 years

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man i know it’s a staple of the canon and all now but like...

the whole Jason Todd murder is just fucking weird

it feels like,.... fanservice-y?

Batmans’s Greatest Most Memetic Enemy + Robin + Egregiously Edgy Scene

It feels more like a fanfic than an actual canon thing the creators of the serious decided to keep as a cornerstone of the legacy. What’s that about?

Like first of all.... the Joker.

The Joker... what. Beats a child to death with a crowbar?

Why?

I know there’s some movie about it (and the opinions I’ve seen on it have been split exactly 50-50 whether it was great or not), which I haven’t seen yet, but c’mon. The cheesy clown guy kills a child with a crowbar?

Implied to be a long beatdown scene too?

Where’s the joke?

I’ve said it before, but the Joker is badly misused as a concept. His fame has outgrown the actual character in many respects, and it’s a shame, because he could be so much more.

He’s a clown that does clown crimes with clown-themed implements. In every good or at least enjoyable adaptation, he’s trying to be some kind of funny. Not necessarily make other people laugh, but funny.

Where the FUCK does an extended beating of a child with a common crowbar fall into that?

There’s no audience, there’s no clown stuff, there’s no apparent punchline, there’s no reason this should have been the Joker. That’s what I mean by fanservice - it feels like the Joker was picked due to his meta popularity, not actual role in the story.

Where’s the showmanship? Where’s the joke? It’s not funny, it’s not in the realm of funny, and I’ve seen it reused for a couple of other characters or repeats of the same scene like???

Again, I’ve said it before, but turning the Joker into “murderer w greasepaint” is a huge shame considering his popularity makes any other clown-themed antagonist basically impossible for any other series, even DC series.

If the Joker were trying to make some kind of punchline, it would work better. Hell, if he had an audience besides his own followers, it would work better. Setup some fucked-up New Year’s Ball Drop with an explosive and Batman not making it in time! Boom, instant continuity, it fits the theme, it fits the Joker MO in some way. It doesn’t have to actually be funny bc kind of a running thing for many strains of Joker is that he isn’t funny, and is often less funny than the people around him, Batman included.

Hell, do the exact same setup but have Robin miss a dodge in a fight and get hit with the damn boxing glove gun! Same results, fits the MO.

Alternately, pick an actually edgy-deadly foe of Batman’s instead of the cheesy clown guy and do it. The elements just don’t work together when you try to cram all of them in.

Hell, Ra’s is supposed to have brought Jason back (at least in some settings?), make him get killed by him or one of the League’s assassins or something. Bam! Instant reason for Ra’s to even be fucking involved! Maybe Jason wasn’t supposed to die and he knows it’ll burn up whatever credit he had left with Bruce, so he takes the nuclear option trying to fix things.

It really just felt like... what’s the word, something-creep. like they were running out of ideas and escalated way too far, and it somehow got popular and now it just keeps being reused ad nauseum.

#elk text #1st #February #2022 #February 1st 2022 #batman #the joker is criminally misused as a concept and i will keep saying tha #t #no i have not read [insert comic issue out of literal thousands of batman comics here]#thx for asking

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xbunnybunz · 3 years

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The terrible, you. (3/5) [Wolf Keum x Reader]

Summary: After Wolf Keum unwittingly rescues you from seedy men in the dead of night, he can't shake you from his side. After a while, he's not sure if he wants to.

Genres: Romance

Date: June 16, 2020

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You did not appear again the next day.

Wolf Keum had not been waiting for you to present yourself. He made sure to remind himself of that.

Yet, the endless chatter of the “girl looking for Wolf Keum” going around Ganghak was grating on his nerves and disallowed him to purge you from his mind.

As someone his classmates could barely bring themselves to look at, he was an awful popular point of contention. You had made a bigger mess than you could imagine.

“I’m telling you, she’s way too cute for him. I’ve seen her working at the flower shop by the underpass, and I don’t think she could be interested in him like that at all, ever. Too bad for him.”

As one of the strongest members of Yeongdeungpo, Wolf Keum’s personal business was always made public business in a matter of days, or in this case, hours. He had first looked upon this with irrational contempt, wondering why his name belonged in anybody’s mouth if they could barely utter a syllable in his presence. After a while, he realized that rumors, while spoken about for the sake of entertainment, could also serve to emphasize his power without much effort on his part.

It wasn’t much different now, though Wolf had to admit he had never been jabbed in the pride regarding his romantic life before. He had no idea it existed until now. It stirred his temper more than dumbfucks shit-talking his fights, and he reasoned that his irritability stemmed from the fact that these slobs would talk about just about anything. Still, he couldn’t settle things like he did back then. Not while he was under Donald Na’s system. It wasn’t as effective than beating the living shit out of anyone who looked at him funny, but it did allow time for his bruised knuckles to heal before the next beatdown.

His friend was quick to snatch the collar of the offender.

“What the hell did you say about Wolf? What do you know? Do I need to knock out your teeth so you think twice before yammering?”

The smaller student squirmed in the iron grip, sweating bullets and eyes darting about to find aid from his friends.

“I- I didn’t mean to! I mean, I wasn’t talking about Wolf Keum, the girl, she-”

“You weren’t talking about Wolf Keum?”

Wolf watched out of the corner of his eye, hands in his pockets, as the student was nearly hoisted from the floor from the collar.

“Who the hell were you talking about then? Geum Sa-Wol? You watch that shit, loser?”*

As the student became a blubbering mess, Wolf swept his eyes over the crowd in the hallway. All eyes were diverted. It was deafeningly silent, a silence that Wolf Keum craved for two reasons. One, it meant he could finally have a few goddamn seconds of peace without her face bouncing around in his head; and two, it meant that although students refused to look up, they were still very much listening.

“Hey man.”

Wolf placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and he could feel the trembling of the other student through his arm.

“Don’t sweat it.”

The smaller kid was set down, and Wolf had to keep himself from snarking at his pale face and wide eyes. Instead, he turned his chin up and offered a sickening smile, his glasses catching the gleam of the fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling.

“I can’t waste time on shit-mouthed fuckers who can’t get the facts straight.”

Wolf reached out to scornfully dust off his wrinkled jacket, enjoying each flinch he induced when his hand landed too harshly or too quickly. He lowered his voice to a dangerous octave, a surge of adrenaline pumping through his veins when he felt the room drop ten degrees in response.

“Her and I have nothing to do with each other, and definitely nothing to do with you. It’s best for us to keep it like that for your sake, don’t you think?”

He lowered his gaze to glower at the shorter student, who, trembling, swallowed thickly and nodded stiffly under his suffocating presence. Wolf remained rooted to the floor, asserting his pressure for a few more long seconds for good measure before giving him a shove.

“Now fuck off.”

He watched as the student took off, tripping over the air in his haste and plummeting into the unforgiving tiled floors with a splat.

Wolf regarded him with a derisive glance and moved to open the door to his classroom, and though it was someone else on the floor, all eyes were on him. He always reveled in the high of scaring someone shitless when he had an audience. Their deafening silence represented their resounding submission to him, but perhaps his most favorite part of all was the contrast of atmosphere immediately before and after he entered another room. The collective drop of shoulders, the perfectly synchronized sighs of relief and immediate whispers of disbelief flooded Wolf Keum with euphoria. It reminded him that his mere presence was enough to instill fear into the hearts of his peers, strong enough to demand subservience, and a testament to his self-made reputation.

It was exactly what he needed now after a long day of conflicting thoughts, which he shamefully had to admit, had made him restless. When he slid the door to his classroom open, he could almost hear the eyes moving from his back to his desk.

In all his years of accruing bloody knuckles and broken noses, he had never once been as stunned as he was in this one soundless and stagnant moment. A crowd had formed around his table, busybodies nosing about and phone cameras shuttering. The moment they heard the door fling open they scattered like roaches, throwing themselves back into their seats and trying hard to seem occupied as to not incur the wrath of Wolf Keum.

Piled high on his desk was an amalgamation of pinks and reds, wrapped delicacies placed upon gift boxes placed upon packages tied to little pink balloons. Wolf took this all in with as straight a face as he could muster, knowing everyone was more sensitive to his presence now than ever before. This included of course, eyebrows arching upwards and his jaw becoming slack.

No one could blame Wolf Keum for his reaction. They had in fact, reacted in the same exact manner- perhaps to a more notable extent. Even for a normal person, a love letter or a small baked treat would suffice as a proclamation of love. But for Wolf Keum, the gifts spread across his desk in a flashy show of affection were tenfold more surprising. It was incomprehensible to anyone that Wolf, the brute occupied with street violence and gang activity, would ever entertain the idea of liking someone, and even moreso shocking that someone could see past their terror and admire him- especially in such an ostentatious fashion.

This revelation was of course, made much more interesting because of the blatant denial that he had anything to do with a girl prior. Wolf knew this more than anyone and gathered his wits to press onward, feeling something strangely similar to adrenaline pulsing through his body and reddening his ears.

“W-Wolf…” His friend stuttered, raising a weak finger to point at the desk. “…What is that?”

Wolf skulked into the classroom, hands deep in his pockets and a snarl on his lips. He had an idea, but couldn’t formulate it into words. He settled for the next best thing.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know, dimwit? I’m looking now.”

“O-oh. Right.”

He approached the table with caution, cringing at the vivid colors and grotesque amount of home baked pastries and sweets. There was an assortment of red cosmos, pink tulips and white daises sitting upon everything, tied together neatly with a thick shiny ribbon pinning down a notecard.

Wolf considered knocking everything over in a fit of confused rage. He considered ordering his lackey to burn it in the incinerator. He considered many things, yet curiosity ate him alive and stopped him from uttering a single word.

He had thought about her all day, damn it all if denying it did anything. She had a strange manner to her that he couldn’t shake and he was enraged when she failed to show up again after gaining his attention. Though no, it hadn’t been directed at her- which was what infuriated him. For the first time in years, Wolf Keum had been disappointed in himself, perhaps for not being interesting enough to earn another visit, or strong enough to impress her beyond a single local market creampuff.

When she didn’t show up again as he had anticipated, he was overtaken by pesky attempts to explain it. He guessed she was shy, he guessed she was nervous, he guessed she came to her senses, he had guessed and guessed until it drove him up the wall and back down again. But even with his reputation and credibility on the line, even while being documented by a sea of students who undoubtedly would share this with friends later- now that just a breath of her existence was in front of him, he had to know- was she back after all? The adrenaline had now inched its way across his body and set his heart and mind aflame, temperatures soaring and burning their way across his cheeks.

“Bro, I can toss it for you-”

“Shut up for a second.”

Wolf ignored the other man, who wisely shut his trap. He was preoccupied with keeping his hand steady as he stiffly reached out for the notecard, a gleam overtaking his glasses. The gold foil note looked strangely out of place in his calloused and bandaged hands, but the name on the notecard was undoubtedly his.

Dear Wolf Keum, Yay!! You found my gifts!! I hope you can enjoy these snacks with all of your funny friends. The flowers are for you though. I picked them from the florist shop I work at myself. I hope you like them! (PS: Put them in carrot juice to make them last longer!) (PPS: or don’t… my boss tells me not to do that in the shop…)

He lowered the card and looked up with a deadpan glower, all the students who had been peering over their shoulders flinched and look back to the front.

He didn’t know what to feel. Wolf Keum was instinctively mad at everything. If the television didn’t work, he was mad. If he had forgotten an umbrella in the rain, he’d be mad and take someone else’s and still be mad. Any slight inconvenience to Wolf Keum was followed by inevitable punishment, and though he was inconvenienced now more than ever with your gifts tarnishing his title in both Ganghak High and the Union, in this moment he felt nothing more than exasperation.

A familiar pipsqueak shitstain voice sounded from the door.

“Woah, she really does like you! How?”

Wolf Keum grit his teeth and felt his hands ball into tight fists at his side, confusion igniting once again to erupt into a bitter and wild, barely contained rage. He was Wolf Keum. Why did he care? Why did he care what a shitty bread shuttle had to say?

He felt his temper raise to lick at the edges of his vision, something of the sort of beast he was used to encountering, but driven by something larger and much more foreign than he was used to. What was it that he, Wolf Keum, was so unfamiliar with? So unable to control?

A creep of red colored his neck, a dash ran across his face, and then he knew at once.

The amount of effort it took for him to sustain regular breathing was fucking bullshit. The way his fists were ready to swing yet ever trembling was fucking. Bullshit.

To onlookers, this Wolf Keum was the same as the Wolf Keum all the days before, face red with irritation, quaking fists itching for a brawl. He was thankful of this, but at the same time hated how he had to hide behind his title instead of living up to it.

Wolf Keum was insecure.

“You little bitch! I’ll rip out your tongue!”

A figure lunged at the smaller boy in the periphery of Wolf's vision, yet he paid it no mind. There was no satisfaction that came from the dull sound of crying and a fists cracking against a nose. Wolf settled into his chair with an aura that filled the room with a cold draft.

With his mood soured, everyone was suddenly reminded that Wolf Keum with gifts on his desk was in fact, still Wolf Keum.

The silence that surrounded the noisy beating did nothing to ease the atmosphere as the pink balloon bobbed softly in the air.

#weak hero #webtoon weak hero #wolf keum #wolf keum x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #the terrible you

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