#its nice too when you have people in discord who are pleasant and fun to talk to about it even if theyre not your faves

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Interdigital Heartbeat [指间心音] Date Translation (END 2 + 3 + 4: Call Out)

“C'mon. It's a choice they've made on their own terms. You don't have to feel sad for them.“

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom

✥ Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

Do I want to join the band's celebration?

⊹ I'd rather not intrude ⊹

Although I was very interested in Seed, we were still outsiders at the end of the day.

MC: I think we shouldn't intrude on them…

Osborn nodded in assent. He turned to Liyuu.

Osborn: Go on ahead with your get together. I'll send her home early.

Liyuu smiled, giving us a knowing nod in farewell. Osborn pulled me along with him once more, following the crowd that was leaving the venue and exiting the bar.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The roads outside were deserted and silent, much unlike how it was inside the bar. The faint breeze was refreshing as we mutually slowed our footsteps.

Osborn: I saw Liyuu's SNS that day. They're actually going to disband.

MC: Huh? But why…?

Osborn: Maybe they have more important things to focus on.

I froze, stunned, as I slowly digested this shocking piece of news. I suddenly understood why Liyuu had shedded tears earlier atop the stage.

It felt as if I'd just bore witness to the end of someone's youth. My heart filled with an overwhelming sense of loss and regret that I couldn't do anything about.

Then, Osborn ruffled my hair with a vengeance, bringing me out of my regretful musings.

Osborn: C'mon. It's a choice they've made on their own terms. You don't have to feel sad for them.

I nodded, rubbing at my own wrist in a moment of sadness… only to gradually realize that something wasn't quite right.

MC: Huh? My bracelet's gone.

MC: ...It might have fallen off at the bar.

Osborn: Let's go back and fetch it then.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

However, when we got back to the entrance of the bar, we saw that it was pitch-black inside through the unlocked doors. All the lights inside were off.

Osborn: Wait here for a bit, I'll go look for it.

Then, he turned to enter the bar. I hurriedly called out to him, stopping him in his tracks.

MC: Wait, how do you know what my bracelet looks like?

Osborn: I saw it earlier on.

MC: Is that so…

Never thought that he'd notice even something so tiny on my person...

MC: Um! It'll be faster if we have two people searching for it, so it'll be better if I come along!

Osborn: Sure. Stick close then.

I pushed open the door, the "closed" sign that hung off it swaying at the motion.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The door slowly closed behind me as I entered the bar. The only lights here we're the sporadic lights that shone in from the street outside, passing through the wine bottles and glasses alike.

All I could see was his wide back, standing tall in the dimly-lit environment. I followed closely behind him, almost as if he was the embodiment of my predetermined direction.

After walking for a while, I suddenly caught sight of something glimmering on the ground. I quickly knelt down to see what it was. However, after getting a closer look at it, I realized that it wasn't my bracelet.

Standing up again, I realized that Osborn had vanished before me.

A wave of panic overwhelms me. I decided to call out to him…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E2: If you fail to call him ⊹

Osborn: Calling for me?

A faint voice called out from behind, spooking me.

MC: AHHH!!!!

I hurriedly whipped around, only to see Osborn frowning with his fingers stuffed into his ears.

Osborn: Hey! Overreacting much?

MC: Who asked you to suddenly appear behind me like that!?

Osborn: But, you're clearly the one going round in circles.

Osborn: I've found your bracelet. Let's get back outside.

I breathed a sigh of relief, trailing after him as we left the dark bar together.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E3: If you call him OSBORN (萧逸) ⊹

Osborn: I'm here. Scared? There's a tremor in your voice.

I breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar voice. I turned and ran in the direction of the voice when I bumped right into someone's chest.

MC: Ah!

I'd only gone two steps before a hand shot out to hold my shoulder, steadying me.

A feeling of safety suddenly envelops me, further clarifying the fact that this was really Osborn. I couldn't help but clutch lightly at him.

MC: Where did you go? You scared me there!

Osborn: About two steps away from you. Saw you circling on the spot.

MC: Hey! Meanie!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Even if all I could hear was his voice, I could still imagine the playful look that must be on his face right now. I was beyond pissed, but the ceiling lights had suddenly flickered on.

Footsteps sounded not too far away from us as a staff walked towards us, looking at us with utter suspicion.

Staff: Hey, who are you lot? Event's over.

I only realized in hindsight that I was still completely plastered to Osborn and quickly pushed him away in embarrassment.

Osborn: Do you know that if you have such a big reaction to it, it just makes you look like you're hiding something?

MC: ...Shut up, you.

Osborn raised his head and loudly replied to the staff.

Osborn: Sorry, we came here to find a lost item.

Staff: We're about to lock up, so I'll give you guys another two minutes.

MC: Okay. Sorry about that!

Searching was much easier after the lights came on, but I still turned out empty-handed from the search.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Our two minutes soon passed. I walked out of the door together with Osborn, feeling slightly regretful about it as we returned to the brightly lit street outside.

MC: *Sigh* Looks like I really did lose it.

MC: And I bought it when I went for a vacation abroad last year, at the market of a small village last year too…

Osborn: You remember it so clearly? Do you always get something as a souvenir whenever you do something that leaves an impression?

MC: Yeah.

Osborn: Have you got one for today?

MC: Uh… Not yet…

Osborn raised a hand, waving it before me. A glimmer of light fell from his fingertips just like magic before he brought it before my eyes.

Focusing my eyes, I realized something. Isn’t that my silver daisy bracelet!?

Osborn: Surprise! Now you do.

It was a pleasant surprise. Then, he lifted my wrist, lowering his eyes as he carefully returned the surprise, lost and regained, to its rightful position around my wrist. With the soft light spilling from the street lamps above, I couldn't help but feel that it appeared more exquisite than ever before.

MC: Thank you. It has not changed from being “a bracelet bought from a market overseas”, to “a bracelet that Osborn gave me”.

Osborn: Then don’t go losing it so easily anymore.

MC: Yessir~

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E4: If you call him HUBBY (老公) ⊹

Perhaps it was the impenetrable darkness around us that gave me an unusual surge of courage, but I grew thick-skinned and yelled the one title that I’d usually never even dream of uttering.

Alas, the embarrassing name-call echoed, reverberating through the room for a long while; perhaps due to the area being too empty and quiet….

A familiar chuckle sounds from the dark.

Osborn: Hey, hey. That's a pretty nice manner of address.

Osborn: How about you yell your support to me like this during my competition? Deal? Deal.

MC: You… I'm only looking fun at you! Where'd you go? Come here. I'm scared.

Osborn: Are you? I thought you were plenty brave.

Osborn: Call me that again and I'll come right over.

MC: You—

Osborn: Be good now, dearest~

His purposefully lowered voice sounded enchanting in the dark. It rippled towards me, inciting a pleasant tingle within my being.

MC: You… Shut up, you. Enough of that already…

Osborn: But you were the one who called me that first!

Osborn quietly waited for the call to come. He didn’t seem like he was going to let up on this matter. However, the impenetrable darkness only increasingly unnerved me. I hesitated for a good three seconds before I gathered my courage and called out once more...

??: Are you guys quite done yet?

An unfamiliar voice suddenly cut in, making me freeze dead on the spot. Then, the lights above us flickered to life.

A member of the staff stood atop the stage, glaring vehemently at us with his hands on his hips.

Staff: I’m sick of seeing all you couples! Are you that bored that you’ve gotta come here just to be all lovey-dovey for kicks!?

Wha… There was a 3rd party here all along? He heard everything…

My eyes immensely darkened as I felt utterly embarrassed, wanting to disappear on the spot if I could.

I could hear the sound of Osborn’s footsteps come from behind. So he hadn’t been all that far away from me after all. Unfazed, he calmly walked up to the stage to explain the situation to the staff.

Staff: Huh. A bracelet? Is it this one?

It was only at the mention of a bracelet that I snapped back to my senses. I buried my face in my hands as I slowly made my way over, peering through the gap between my fingers.

MC: Uh… Yes. Thank you.

Staff: Take it and go; stop being all lovey-dovey in here!

Flushed red, I lowered my head in embarrassment. I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t even make out a word. Osborn only smiled as he placed his hand around my shoulders and led me out of the bar.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Another two weeks passed after that.

One night, Osborn and I were having dinner at a place near Warson when his phone suddenly lit up with a message.

He took one look at it, his face gradually morphing into one of suspicion.

Osborn: It’s a number I’ve never seen before, telling me to go to “Chimes Piano Shop”. They say I have something there.

MC: Oh? How curious.

MC: But, Chime’s Piano Shop? That’s just nearby. Won’t you know if it’s a scam or not if you just drop by and pay them a visit?

Osborn: Okay, Miss Directionless. How about you lead the way this time?

MC: Hey! This place is around my workplace! Don’t you underestimate me!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After we’d finished our meal, I easily led Osborn to Chime’s Piano Shop, a place that was located deep inside an alley.

Peering through the glass windows of the shop, we could see that it was brightly lit inside. Its interiors were tastefully furnished with a mix of retro and trendy, and there were a variety of brand-new instruments scattered around, being displayed out on the floor.

No matter how we looked at it, it was nothing more than an ordinary piano shop. Hence, we pushed open the doors and stepped inside.

The bell hanging from the door made a pleasant jingle, alerting the clerk to our presence. The uniformed clerk raised his head, smiling as he made his way towards us.

Clerk: Oh. You must be Mr. Osborn, right? I was the one who sent you the message earlier. I’m a friend of Liyuu’s.

Clerk: He left Guangqi City a couple of days ago and placed his electronic keyboard here before he left. He said that he hopes to entrust it to your care.

Osborn: ...An electronic keyboard?

Clerk: Over here.

Following the clerk, we stopped before an electric keyboard that was placed in a corner.

It was clean, but old, considering its slightly outdated style. It stuck out like a sore thumb despite having been placed in a corner, like an old man that possessed a good many stories.

Osborn: He wants to put something this huge in MY house? Gee, he sure knows how to trouble someone.

Clerk: He’d also said that you can give it to someone else or even leave it here for sale if it’s inconvenient for you to take it.

Osborn wearily rubbed his temples before he turned to question me.

Osborn: Do you know how to play?

MC: Oh… Just a little.

Osborn: How about I give it to you then? It's your idol's beloved keyboard.

MC: Don't want it.

He was teasing. I glared at him in dissatisfaction, taking a serious tone with him.

MC: This is the keyboard that Liyuu has used for many years, it must mean an awful lot to him.

MC: I think maybe he doesn’t intend to give up on music.

MC: You’re the one who gave him the motivation to do it, so I think that he’s hoping that you can take it under your wing. To protect and take care of this important dream of his.

MC: Who knows, maybe he’ll come back one day to reclaim it from you!

Osborn: That guy… He’s still as whimsical as ever even after all these years, huh.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Osborn glanced at the keyboard, helplessly shaking his head, as if what stood before him wasn’t his friend’s keyboard, but rather, his friend himself.

After a while, he sat down on the sofa before the electronic keyboard, slowly lifting the heavy black cover that had hidden the keys of the keyboard from view.

The keyboard had been maintained well, but the keys all shone brightly from years of wear and tear, inflicted by years of practising.

His slender, yet strong, fingers slid across the keys, gently pressing on a few.

The black and white keys played a series of pleasant-sounding notes. He lowered his eyes in thought as the sound reverberated in the air.

Osborn: "Take care of his dream for him"? ... I'm not all that noble.

His tone was reminiscent of a sigh. I shook my head and walked up, standing before him.

MC: You don’t have to bear any responsibility for this, Osborn.

MC: You might not understand, but…

MC: Some people just have to exist and do whatever it is that they wish to do. That in itself is something that those who do matter will find solace in.

You fixed your gaze firmly onto him as the thought ran past your mind.

And you, Osborn; you are that existence.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After a while, Osborn sighed, seemingly having come to a compromise about it. He covered the keyboard and stood back up once more.

Osborn: Alright. I'll take it for your sake.

He looked me up and down playfully, his dashing eyes slowly curving upwards in joy.

Osborn: But, you've got something wrong here.

MC: Huh?

Osborn: How could I ever "not understand"?

Osborn: I’ve already long since found the one who’ll safeguard my dreams and aspirations for me.

I froze. I was just about to ask just who this person was when he bent down slightly, his piercing pale green eyes staring deeply at me.

Just as I took notice of the little figure being reflected within his orbs, I heard the notes of a keyboard ringing out in the air, resonating with my heart.

It was then, at that moment, that the answer to the underlying question hanging in the air was self-evident.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #For Night For Freedom #指间心音 #Interdigital Heartbeat

[pjstafford]

Letter to The Truly Like Lightning Book Club

I’m a person who likes to write, but I know I sometimes make spelling or grammatical mistakes which annoy people. I apologize in advance.

I do tend to be pretty open and honest about my feelings and I do feel deeply.

I kind of like social media to be upbeat and positive. I don’t really like to knock it too much when it isn’t. What’s the point!? Social Interaction between humans is sometimes problematic no matter what form it takes.

I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. When it is triggered I have a flight response. On Twitter that means making my Twitter footprint smaller. I want to be smaller to protect myself. Yesterday, though, it seemed like I was being told that as small as my footprint had gotten, I wasn’t small enough. What do I do now? How small can I go before I’m gone.

I truly don’t know where to go with something that is not a life threatening problem, not a rocket science issue, but is a little thing about a book club. I believe it was The Who who sang this is not a social crisis, but just another tricky day for you. This morning is a Tricky day. I am really wondering...

Do we cancel the book club?

Do we have a steering committee to organize it differently?

Do we go off twitter?

Do we have a different facilitator?

Should I leave social media, maybe shave my head and take a vow of silence?

How I feel about this is extremely foolish and really desperately sad with just a smidge of anger.

I feel foolish because I thought the book club was going really, really well. I have loved the discussion. It has deepened my understanding of the book which I already enjoyed. It’s been fun. Imagine my surprise to find out there are issues. The sad and angry piece is a little complicated. So let me put the issues out first since that is what the club needs to discuss today. This is the fourth book club I have facilitated on Twitter. It has been my most pleasant experience until today. Every club has been formatted exactly the same. Apparently this one might need some restructuring.

1. When is the appropriate amount of time following a book’s publication to allow to pass before doing a public book club where people who may not be in the book club could still see the discussion? People who might read the book in the future or had started the book and wasn’t as far along might have spoilers. It’s a valid concern, but Twitter isn’t known for being a spoiler free zone. If a program drops on the East Coast two hours before my time, before I can watch spoilers exist on Twitter. However this book dropped February 2 and we waited until March 1st to begin the book club. We have a # but when people respond they don’t always use the #. Also some people don’t follow me and they are not part of the book club but because people retweet the questions they were showing up on people’s timeline when they didn’t want them there. So the compromise we arrived at was no body can retweet any question or response and every response must have the #. I’m still confused, though, about the rules. Movies/television =immediate spoilers acceptable, books= a month to six weeks is too soon. I was told it’s not a matter of rules but being nice. Ok. I want to be nice but what is the appropriate time because sometimes I don’t read a book for years? If we postpone the book club for six months, a year, three years, thirty? With the compromise reached, why do I care? Because why are we being so quiet and circumspect about a book I think people ought to know about and read. Sometimes social media helps create a buzz. What a shame that a book club that is reading the book critically and in depth is, to some degree, being told to not be so loud because, you know, Twitter is a spoiler free zone. To be clear, I think the persons who raise the concerns did so for legitimate reasons and out of concerns for future readers of the book, but when we talk about the reasons I am sad and angry you will see why this upset me we much. it’s not their fault but I responded poorly and I’m still coming down from my PTSD spiral.

2. Perhaps, the problem is that Twitter isn’t the appropriate forum for a book club. Maybe Discord or private messages or zoom. Yes. This is the fourth book club I’ve hosted on Twitter. I was asked in March last year if I would start a book club due to quarantine. They’ve all been successful so far. Why do I feel so silenced? Again I don’t think the person who suggested this meant anymore than oh, let’s solve the spoiler problem. But I have a particular reason for not wanting to be silenced.

3. Some people have read the full book already and want to talk about the book in its entirety. I see that. I really do. I just have never had a book club like that. That means waiting longer. Some people like the chapter a day. Should we do multiple book clubs ?

4. Are the questions too serious? The subject matter is complex. Would a different facilitator be more appropriate? One who wouldn’t highlight the controversial and serious issues!

Why am I sad and a little angry? Why did my PTSD kick in outside of it being a bad year and a stressful time at work and I’m tired? Haven’t had a day off I a long while. (No complaints I have a job). I’m tired.

April 2017 I started the Twitter account @hearteyes4david. I had help but it was mostly me. I kind of love David Duchovny’s writing. I have blogged about it and have said someday he will have a break out novel. I believe Truly Like Lightning should be it. But the account showed love for all things David and I believe it gave some fans some fun. I enjoyed being a part of it. We had newsletters and contests. But for me, I an first and foremost a fan of David’s writing. I write. I admire writers. His writing should not be diminished by his other careers. In March of last year with the lock down I was asked to facilitate a Miss Subways book club, then the lock down went on so we did his other two books. Twitter and hearteyes have been my happy place in this year. It’s hard when your happy place feels threatening.

I was fortunate enough to get an advance digital copy of the book to read. Wow. Different! Great! It is not because I am 😍. This is one of the best books I’ve read this century. I am an avid reader. I have a critical eye. I wrote a spoiler free review. Almost immediately a fan contacted me. Because of spoilers you shouldn’t have posted this. Why don’t you do a DM for those who are interested? Don’t do spoilers. It’s a spoiler free review. This fan continued to tell me that it would be best not to post about the book. ( you know, spoilers). Then fans who had not read the book but knew for a fact that every other page was full of sex scenes and drugs and it was essentially exactly like Californication (not remotely) started saying nothing should be posted on the 😍 page about this book. Then a fan who hadn’t read it complained about how it handled religion and said it would cause her personal pain to see anything about this book on the 😍 page. I kept saying. I actually don’t care if you read it or not. My suggestion is you mute, block or unfollow the account if you don’t like the content. “But the pain, could we at least not do the book club? “. 🥺🥺🥺. I was convinced that rather than have the controversy on the 😍 page I would choose to leave my happy place account I had created to start a small account and my fan related activities became far more focused. It might not seem like much, but the decision to leave 😍 was hard, but I wanted to talk about this book. These aren’t the only reasons but the three pronged fans really angry at me for a book I didn’t write which wasn’t even published yet was challenging during the holiday season of 2020. I made my Twitter footstep smaller. I passed the account to Charmion who is doing great.

So then I waited till March to talk about the book. In the meantime “fans” who hadn’t read the book, immediately started to spread lies and mistruths about the book including selective out of context screen shots. So much for “Spoilers”. Still I waited until March. So now I have a smaller account followed by 100 people which very few “super fans” know about and about 5-7 of us are talking about this book. That’s it. For 18 days we have discussed the difficult, complex flawed characters and how the book demonstrates that these characters actions caused harm to other characters and yet left us with empathy for all. We have not always agreed. It’s a book club. Reading one chapter a day.

Yet somehow we are too loud. My tweets were being retweeted. You know, have to be concerned about spoilers. Were there 15 hate filled tweets from people who shared screen caps they were sent of random out of context paragraphs, people who proudly say they haven’t read the book, don’t need to, they’re experts, 15 for every one of mine. Of course. But I’m too loud. You know. Spoilers

So I am sad. Desperately so. I walked away from an account I had poured a lot of love into because I believed in a book I wanted to talk about. After being pretty involved in the fandom, my current activities are pretty narrowed. I’m not sure I can continue to facilitate the book club. I guess my days involved in “fandom” outside of being a fan are drawing to a close. My happy place is kind of gone.

I’m angry because this book deserves to be critically read on its merits. I’m angry because I don’t like my voice to be silenced. I’m angry because I think there are fans who actually like the book who are in fact concerned about spoilers, but they don’t realize by silencing or at least quieting the discussion of fans who have read and want to discuss the book, they are only allowing the space for the haters voices to be heard. I’m angry at myself because every step of the way I should have handle this differently. I’m angry because I shouldn’t care so much. It’s not a Jan 6 insurrection, climate change, or world peace. It’s a book by an author who don’t need me to fight these battles.

Finally I’m simply confused about where or what to do. With an account of 100 followers some people who don’t follow me think I’m too loud because I’m posting about something they don’t want on their feed (David’s book) and someone might repost me. Because I feel threaten by people telling me too get smaller my response is to try and get smaller. So I shouldn’t post about David’s book because there are people in he fandom who don’t want to see posts about David’s book. Ok. I should come on Twitter and never interact because that way no one will ever see a post from me they don’t want to see🤷‍♀️. Mercy, I’m on a lobbyist, have you guys seen the political stuff I post on my other account? Yep, probably just the fandom stuff I need to walk away from except for, you know, being a fan, but never discussing it.

[moody-bloosh]

the first snowfall (Risotto Nero)

Hiya! This is for the Secret Santa event from staruplatinum’s discord uwu. @kyrare , I hope you like this soft and sentimental holiday fluff with Risotto. <3 

The holiday season had always been difficult for him. It always brought back painful memories for him, a warm, sumptuous dinner, a family he had once been a part of, a family he had turned his back on. For what? For revenge, for justice that had not been adequately served.

The season always had a way of stirring up old wounds, wounds he tried so desperately to forget about and seal away. The memory of a smile from someone he would never likely see again, the feeling of easy belonging, these were things he had lost the right to, things he had thrown away.

He had long since come to terms with the fact that the path he walked was a solitary one, one where he would need to continually trade away his humanity. Meeting you though was a paradigm shift, before he knew it your lines were intersecting and tangling. And there was nothing he could do to break away from it.

Because then, after meeting you, celebrating the holidays weren’t all that bad. The feelings of inadequacy and regret would ease up on him. He could never truly stop thinking about it, that was his curse, that was the burden he was meant to carry, after all. But he had learned to be kinder with himself, he had learned to think of different, more pleasant things because of you. It was one of the many profound and transformative effects you had in his life, he supposed.

Upon closer introspection, he had found that you were making a lot of the more difficult things in his life a bit easier to tolerate. You were his solace, the one bright spot in his dark world, the only warmth he would receive in the biting cold reality that was his life.

You made him feel almost human again. Which was saying a lot for someone like him, who was deeply entangled within the dark and seedy underbelly of the mafia, doomed to walk the narrow road of crime and vice, of shadow and death.

Risotto could come home to you on a tough day, feeling like the blood on his hands would never be washed off, and then you would come by and flash him that warm smile of yours and he would feel like he can still be forgiven even though he knows deep down that he will never be.

You make him believe that he is still worthy of good things, of beautiful things, of clean things.

To him, you were tenderness and acceptance in a world that had been anything but that for him. You were soft, butterfly kisses all across his face, ’just because.’

“Because you looked like you needed a kiss,” you tell him as you pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“Because you are just too damn adorable,” you say as you kissed him right on the tip of his nose.

“Because I want to,” you say as you placed a chaste little kiss on his lips.

It was waking up at ungodly hours of the night for a midnight snack only to find you sitting by the refrigerator light stuffing your face with the leftover takeout.

“What are you doing?” he asks, trying to stifle a laugh as you chow down on the takeout.

“I got hungry,” you said. “Do you want a bite too? I saved you some food at least.”

He finally laughed then as he found a spot beside you and together, the two of you polished off the leftovers.

It was walks in the forest beside your little cottage during ungodly hours of the night because you hated the heat of the day. It was falling asleep in each others arms on the ugly couch he salvaged last summer. It was holding hands and feeling whole, like a long time ago some part inside of the two of you had shifted long ago and it was only clicking into place now.

You taught him what it meant to love and to love without expecting anything in return. He knows he is not the easiest lover to have, after all. Even now there are times when he feels like he is unworthy of you, unworthy of the love and affection and warmth that you lavish so freely upon him. And when he tells you of this, all you can do is cup his face and look him dead in the eye. You tell him plainly, seriously, to put you down from the pedestal in his mind.

“We are only human,” you would say to him, “unworthy of love but against all odds, we find ourselves in abundance of it, so perhaps we ought to just be grateful for it, no?”

Because even you have your moments when you think you are unworthy of him. But in your time together, you have learned something. Perhaps, we are never truly worthy of another’s love, grace, and affection. But maybe that is what love is. It is given simply because.

You made the holidays feel like the holidays again. Because suddenly, the season wasn’t about the painful memories of what he had lost. It became picking out ugly Christmas sweaters to wear around the house and going to get-togethers his other team members had planned. It was putting too much alcohol in the eggnog, because who could stop the two of you from doing whatever it was that you wanted. It was snuggling up by the fireplace and talking to each other about dumb anecdotes.

It was putting too much marshmallows and piling the whipped cream on the hot chocolate high. It was decorating the Christmas tree with scrap metal and topping it off with a voodoo doll. It was snowball fights and building castles out of the snow, and making snow people because the two of you were just too tired to move around and make snow angels.

It was greeting him, “welcome home,” and him feeling like he really was at home.

Risotto finds you lying outside in the yard, a pleasant dusting of snow on your nose. To be honest, he had been frightened when he found you lying outside. His mind immediately jumping to frightening implications. Dashing to your side, it is only when he had gotten closer that he finally took note of the soft rise and fall of your chest, the small puffs of clouds that left your lips, and it is only then that he relaxes.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his brows knit in just the slightest bit of concern.

As if finally considering his presence, your gaze met his and your usual smirk made its way on your lips. There was some snow on your lashes, he noted. Your cheeks were bright red from the cold and your lips were chapped. But you were looking up at him like you hadn’t been chilling outside for God knows how long.

“Ah, Ris, just the man I wanted to see,” you said with a bright smile, that was so dazzling and vibrant in his eyes. “I forgot my keys so I thought I’d wait outside for you.”

“Yes, but by lying out in the snow?” Risotto pursed his lips, concerned as he turned his gaze to the deck he had worked so hard on last spring. “We have a perfectly good porch.”

Seemingly anticipating his response, you cheekily dug through your thick winter coat to produce a pocket heater. And with that, his tension had deflated, his feelings easing into something more whimsical. So that he could indulge you in whatever mischief you had cooking up in that lovely head of yours.

“It’s actually quite cozy,” you retorted smugly.

Risotto chuckled then, pinching your nose to tease as he plopped down right beside you on the snow, “how many of those do you have under there?”

Wrinkling your face in dismay, you managed a, “that’s a secret.”

A raise of the brow, so you wanted to be cheeky today, huh? It was no trouble, he was feeling a little more indulgent than usual, so he played along with you and asked, “do you have enough for me?”

“I may be able to spare a few for you,” you replied, your voice suddenly taking on a haughty tilt as you considered him, he was beginning to shiver, only if you ask nicely though.“

Risotto scoffed, "you’re just asking to stay outside, aren’t you?”

“Well, it is very pleasant out here, with all these pocket heaters…”

You know deep down, that Risotto will not leave you outside. He would drag you back to your shared home if need be, it wasn’t like it would be difficult. You’d seen how he carried the Christmas tree to the living room on one arm. He could just toss you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and be done with it.

But it was fun teasing him, so you stretch out this moment for as long as you can. With another sigh, Risotto lay down on the snow beside you. You noticed the way he bristled from the cold that was quickly seeping into his clothes. Had you been feeling particularly impish that day, you would have called him out on it. But the cold just had a way of taking things from you. So you are only too happy to stew in silence with him.

Risotto reaches his hand out and on instinct, you take his hand. Later, when the two of you rise, Risotto will tell you what a pretty picture it painted. How cute the indentation of your bodies in the snow showed a cute couple holding hands in the snow. Although, it was certainly a step down from the giant snowman from last year, and the absurdly large snow bunny from the other year. It certainly won points in sweetness.

The two of you spend some time watching the stars for a little bit. This far out from the city, it was certainly easier to see the stars. Your little cottage with Risotto, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, far away from the smog, from the light pollution. His one true haven, the only other place he could run to when he felt particularly escapist.

You mouth off about something you read about stars in the paper today, and ever attentive, he listens.

“Isn’t it interesting, Ris,” you began, “you know all those wishes we’ll make on these stars, it’ll still be here even after billions of years.”

He turns to look at you, your eyes shining brighter than the stars that hang above you, your voice sounding like music to his ears as you talk. Ah, how can he put to words how much he loves you? The you who shined brighter than anything else in his dull world. The you who brought color to his monochrome world. The you who loved him, the you who taught him what it meant to love and to love truly. The you who was his bright northern star.

As if noticing his silence, you paused and turned to look at him. You drank in the loving, gentle expression on his face like fine wine. You adored these silent moments with him as well. When you could simply be with him. Because words were cheap, fickle things that sometimes couldn’t get the job done. Because how could you describe all the feelings you had for him? Words would not do it justice, words were not enough.

What was unsaid was clear enough. Because it was in the silence where you could simply be. No words were needed and no words were required. You could gaze in his eyes and oh, how you could sift through his eyes and find the meaning of the world behind them. You could gaze in his eyes and just know what he could not let you know from words alone.

There is something deep down in your soul that stirs: something old, something new, something alien, something familiar. Some people would not find this in their lifetime. Being with him, under the gentle caress of the snow, you feel gratitude for having been able to meet him.

In any way, shape or form, you are happy to have met him.

#risotto nero #risotto x reader #la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #fluff #vento aureo #golden wind #play #side a

[wclfgurl]

& .   ✧   ›   MEETING ARYA !

✦ ▓ AND WHO GOES THERE? oh, it’s just [ ARYA STARK ]. some say [ HER ] resemblance to [ MADISON BAILEY ] is almost uncanny, but the [ TWENTY-THREE ] year old has been in the capital for [ TWO YEARS ]. many suspect that they are the notorious [ CORPORAL ] of the [ STARK ] family: perhaps that has made them [ DISCOURTEOUS ] && [ IMPUDENT ] of late, when they used to be so [ BRAZEN ] && [ ASTUTE ]. during the daylight hours, [ ARYA ] can be found working as a [ UNI STUDENT ], but when night falls over king’s landing, they are best remembered listening to [ RUN BOY RUN BY WOODKID ]. may the gods be with them in these dark streets. ( attina. 24. cst. she/her. )

hey there demons, it’s me. ya boi ! i’m attina and i’m here to create chaos. please slap a like on this if you want to plot and i’ll come at you. there are a bunch of wanted connections listed at the end so if any of them seem to scream at you, please feel free to yell at me ! my discord is ty lee#5523 so feel free to use that for plotting if you wish ! full disclosure, i don’t remember shite about game of thrones and never finished the season finale nor read the books but i’m here to vibe anyways !

& .   ✧   ›  I. THE BASICS !

full name › arya stark.

nickname(s) › arry, no-name, dead girl, horseface, wolf girl.

age › twenty-three ( 23 ).

d.o.b. › december 12, 1997.

gender › cis-female.

pronouns › she/her.

allegiance › the starks.

occupation › university student ( undetermined degree ). 

current location › king’s landing.

& .   ✧   ›  II. THE BIOGRAPHY !

your mother was once so excited when a little girl joined the family once more. thrilled to have another to dress in all pink, teach the ways of a lady, and become one more little her. too bad the child would have other plans. you were never meant to be the prim and proper lady that your mother expected. not when running around wolves was far more exciting. you didn’t have time for the lessons your mother tried to bestrode onto you, disinterested in spending hours with some yarn. you rather use the needle for something that your mother strongly disapproves of. that’s what really gets you going; doing things your mother states to be vile. 

the years growing up weren’t without bruises and stains. you have scars filled with stories that you tell with a wide grin on your face. proof that you are the one still standing and whatever --- or whoever --- gave them to you succumbed to your victory. you have spent plenty of time in the principals office for fights that you never started but certainly ended. you don’t mind the bruised knuckles the battles gave you. it was completely worth the look on their faces when you took them down.

when you were a teenager, rebellion was in your blood. you did what it took to defy the law. breaking and entering abandoned buildings were a good after school activity for you, running from the police was just a nice jog in the middle of the night. you kept a kill list for everyone that has done you wrong --- most of the names on there were for petty reasons but not billy. you still fucking hate billy. you still have that kill list, though more prominent names are on there now. ones that have harmed your family in one way or another. that’s one thing you don’t fuck around with and that’s family. 

it doesn’t matter how much you felt like an outsider with your siblings; they are still your blood. your loyalty lies with your family and if anyone messes with them, they are immediately pissing you off. the only one allowed to mess with your siblings, including sansa, is you and you’re not afraid to make that known. you will fight tooth and nail for any member of your family, including those loyal to your family. that is, until you prove to be a traitor. that’s one way to get their name written on your list.

despite the loyalty you have for the starks, it didn’t stop you from disappearing two years ago. you told a few people but really, you just had a desire to see a part of the world. just for a year. call it a break from university if you will. studying abroad, if that helps your mother sleep at night. you came back as per agreement with your father and yet, you still wish to be gone. there was so much more that you haven’t seen and the classes that you’re taking are just dull in comparison. is it too much to wish for a different path for yourself?

but that’s something you never dare say. instead you keep your hit list close to your heart in case an opportunity presents itself and you continue doing what you want when you want it. that includes any duties you’re given. you do as you please, speak your mind to whomever, and post tiktoks for the hell of it. 

& .   ✧   ›  III. THE FACTS !

yeah that’s right, arya stark is a tiktoker. honestly fight me? she’s a gen x’er what do you expect? her tik toks are probably one way that her family realizes she was still alive during that year of traveling. is she a famous tiktoker or whatever you call them? hell yeah and you can quote me on that.

her weapon of choice is a small rapier nicknamed needle gifted to her by jon snow.

she has no idea what to study in uni and none of it really appeals to her? she finds it all boring. which is probably why she’s often skipping classes, turning assignments in late, or plain not doing a thing in that class. definitely an argument she has with her mother every day is about uni. 

arya joined the organisation as a corporal as a request from her father, utilizing her skills, and a big f-- u to her mother. because honestly isn’t that what life is all about? 

she has a siberian husky named nymeria ofc.

rebel for rebel’s sake; she’s definitely spray painted buildings before. probably has been arrested as a minor. it’s fine though. everythinG’S FINE.

personality wise; arya is loud and proud. she’s never one to stray from speaking her mind despite the turmoil it may cause. think the girl cares if she hurts your feelings?? probably not but maybe a little and only if you actually cared about what she thought. listen, it’s complicated and so is she. she doesn’t believe in happy ever afters but looks more realistically, and potentially more emotionally as she doesn’t mind keeping a grudge and doing things that would end a grudge in a not forgiving way (murdah is fun)! she thrives on making her ancestors ( mother & sister ) disappointed in her but also it hurts when they are? its fine, she’ll worry about those complicated emotions later. 

& .   ✧   ›  IV. THE CONNECTIONS !

what the fuck is up kyle › negative; their paths have crossed once or twice before and each meeting has never been a pleasant one. arya doesn’t try to hide their displeasure when face to face whether it’s public or private. there is a solid chance that they are on her hit list for a petty reason.  i’m in my mum’s car. broom broom › positive; listen, arya isn’t heartless idk what made you think that. she has a heart, she just doesn’t know how to express emotions and rather vanish for a year than face people again. but listen, this character is someone who has seemed to break through her shell. whether or not that’s a good thing is up for debate. wtf, is this allowed? is this allowed? › romantic; romance isn’t something that arya daydreams about but man, she fell and she fell hard. they were just meant to be a nice distraction but here she is, acting like something that she’s not. first loves are a scary thing and she would much rather just pretend that they are just for fun. i’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me › negative; political parties aren’t something that arya cares too much about, but she does give a damn if someone hates her family for whatever reason that is. it doesn’t matter that they are on opposite sides, what matters is your mom’s a ho. but in all seriousness, prepare for some stink eye and arya badmouthing them. zach stop! you’re gonna get in trouble › positive; listen. even arya needs someone that she might be a good influence towards. the one person who is like hmmmm, maybe not a good idea right now. however, they are still creating havoc together for the vine ( rip vine ) tiktok.  stahp! i coulda dropped my croissant › romantic; distractions and fun times and maybe doing things that you’re mother doesn’t approve of, that’s the arya way! and this one really is just a booty call. it doesn’t matter what side they may support, that’s not what they are talking about, if they are even speaking, when they’re meeting up.

#vixere:intro #// iM SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG #i just have too many thoughts #and not enough thots #& . ✧ › POINTS ( 20 )

[the-little-hatchling]

Darius and Remus story

This takes place before the canon timeline of the current story. and centers on our two favorite merchants Remus and Darius (Remus is he/him and Darius is she/her pronouns for this)

I haven’t written in a very long time, so let me know what you all think. (constructive criticism always welcomed)

Trigger warnings: A brief mention of a deadname

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

Darius woke up the sweet sound of snores from Remus’ bed, well by sweet she actually meant discordant nightmare beast snores. But it kept the staff of the tavern and any would-be thieves away, so it wasn’t all that bad.

Quietly (not a hard feat over the noise) she stretched and dressed for the day ahead.

Darius was well into taking the stock inventory for the day when the beast abruptly ceased it’s noise and slowly rose behind her, she could see him from the reflection of the rooms mirror, his rat’s nest of hair made him look like an abomination.

He smiled sleepily and kicked off his sheets draping himself over her.

“At least brush your teeth” Darius smoothly chastened, but didn’t move Remus off her, despite the apparent morning breath issue. “huuugs” They sleepily moaned, Darius huffed but awkwardly returned the embrace, before pushing she partner off.

“get dressed, it’s gonna be busy today” She finished her inventory list and started packing various items and trinkets into boxes and backpacks for her market stall. She had some rare meats and cheeses that would certainly go down well with the locals. That trip into Honeysuckle valley was worth it for extra coin she’d earn from a noble. Remus pouted but obeyed pulling his own clothes on, and chewing on some dried jerky for breakfast while Darius finished up and then scoffed at his unruly curls. She grabbed a comb and attacked the hair.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” Remus squirmed a little under her hands, bating the comb away and glaring at her, but was met with her own withering gaze. He stopped complaining and submitted to his partner’s onslaught until the messy locks at least looked half decent.

“Your hair is so uncooperative” she complained, no matter what she did it always looked wild and untamed. Well, at least she got the tangles out. “It ravels in chaos like I do!” Remus gleefully informed swinging his legs like a child “obviously” she rolled her eyes and smirked at him “come, we need to set up before the early birds arrive for the deals”

Remus grabbed all the heavy boxes while she carried the bags down and loaded them onto packhorse walking through the dimly lit streets of the early morning towards the plaza, this town was small enough that there was only one market plaza. Darius had a regular and prime spot pre-paid for but every so often someone would try to claim it. One look from a smiling Remus daring them to start something was usually enough to have them quickly on their way.

“So what are we operating today” Remus bounced on his toes ready for action, he hair once again a chaotic mess.

“you heard, them in” she muttered setting her stall up just right. “I’ll be the wolf in sheep’s clothing”

“I love it when they think they are safe when I leave” he chuckled a positively feral grin lined his face “Poor lambs”

******

The day was largely uneventful, Remus brought in immense crowds of scared people unaware that they were about to be charmed out of there coin until Remus ran into town guards bearing the Everstall crest. Oh? Now, what were guards from the capitol doing in this nice but little town?

Deciding that he just HAD to find out Remus hung back and observed them putting up posters and passing out flyers, most interesting behaviour for guards…

Welp time to find out what the fuss was Remus bounced up to them and hung upside down on a nearby lamppost, startling a poor- and clearly new guard.

“Hello~ little knight” The knight stared at him, swallowing visibly while shaking a little, nothing Remus wasn’t used to, in fact, it was funny every single time! Swinging his body and landing in front of the young lad he plucked out a flyer and froze.

“Um..” the guard tried to begin

“Shhh!” Remus laid his finger on the guard’s lips as he stared at the image of one he knew very well. His mind reeling. A reward for the whereabouts or safe return of lady Erin.

The picture, painted in great detail with color showed with long-haired with curly hair he knew was soft and fun to mess with. Dark brown skin with Green eyes set in like jewels and just the right amount of chub to make him adorable.

This was his Sibling’s boyfriend, but… a sinister toothy smile and demented eyes bored into the guard.

“Want some information then”

“Y-You know about her” the guard squeaked out. “Yesss” he hissed harshly putting his arm on the Guard and pulling him in closer like an old friend. The guard was visibly disturbed, and pale. Good scared guards paid extra “Now where have I see her before, was it Ravenwell no, no perhaps it was Wolfalls! my memory is so bad hmmm”

Remus poked the guard’s coin purse and then held out his hand. The guard promptly give him 5 gold

“Ah yes! NOW I remember it was actually Dawnkeep!” he patted the guard “Best hurry or else she’ll of moved on”

the Guard scurried away as fast as he could, not knowing that he’d been given a village in the opposite direction of Freycrest. Ha! As if he would give up one of the two people that make Roman happy! Darius would want to know about this. Darius, apparently already knew, and had charmed money out of an adventuring party wanting the reward. She had held her coin purse open and her honeyed words had enticed them into giving up their coin and a few much-needed trinkets and supplies along the way.

From then on both understood that the game had begun. Whoever could get the most money out of the foolish, naive Party’s and Guards on the hunt for their dear boy, would be the winner! Remus swung and jumped through the streets, the job of rounding in patrons forgotten for now, while Darius charmed and persuaded many out of their coin for the shop and for the latest in gossip. Been a well know merchant dealing in both wares and information had its perks, she didn’t need to go anywhere. When the sun finally set over the horizon Remus returned to pack away the traded wares and left overstock. Darius was polishing a particularly pretty gem she’s managed to snag off a stubborn man insisting it was worth more. He’d made a commotion and became quite threatening, Normally Darius would take care of herself but the guards took an interest and well that was another story.

She had a nice cane to set it into (A gift from Remus) a friend of hers would do it for a modest price, it would go well with her waistcoat and hat, she couldn’t wait to pass by their Village. Pocketing the Gem she idled along the streets while Remus chatted endlessly about the people he ‘met’ that day seems like there would need to leave tomorrow, to avoid rumors of the creepy party stalker, how disappointing. Still, they could make it to Ambervale earlier than expected, that was always a nice thing to do, she would have the first pick of the ale market. Remus was already seated and finishing his first tankard of beer, a glass of wine was already poured for her.

“Darius! You took your time!” he was practically bouncing up and down, no doubt excited to see if he’d won or not. He patted the chair enthusiastically “come on sit, sit, sit!”

Darius rolled her eyes fondly but made a beeline for the chair anyway, seating herself as slowly as possible and swirling the wine and taking in the fruity aroma before taking a small sip. It was pleasant enough, for a town wine, Remus would like it too.

“So how much did you get?” He proudly displayed his Gold “I got 20!”

“Only twenty darling?” she smirked and Remus instantly knew he’d lost “I got 60”

“Teach me how to do that trick of yours already!” Remus whined, Darius had always been able to charm coin from people like candy does from children. And she never told him how.

“Darling your much better at other things” she calmly replied, ruining a finger across his cheek, Remus was adorable like this. “Like what!?” Remus’ demented scream rang through the tavern, worried patrons now had one eye on the pair. Darius had expected it and didn’t so much as flinch, smiling fondly.

“Don’t worry” Darius smoothly addressed the bar “He won’t bite as long as he has drinks…or if you ask nicely”

As one the bar seemed to surge forward placing money down for future drinks, Darius did love it when a plan came together.

“You should try the wine, it’s right up your ally” She raised her glasses and the bartender promptly served a second glass, leaving a bottle on the table.

“It’s been a profitable day and we’re leaving for Ambervale tomorrow”

“Only if we cuddle tonight” he continued to pout.

“sweetie, you snore,” she stated flatly, Remus knew it wasn’t out of malice, he brightened up instantly.

“and sleep in the buff!” He added proudly. “I know.. How is this convincing me again?” Darius shook hear head Remus was admittedly confusing sometimes, it was part of his charm that he was so unpredictable, their relationship never got stale. Remus’ smile was sincere as he tried the wine.

“I miss cuddling you, we’ve been too busy lately” Darius’ cheek heated up at Remus’ sweet side showing up, it was true how long had it been since they’d had couple time?

“fine” she agreed quietly, standing up and grabbing the bottle of wine, Remus was beaming at this point. “Well take some shot glasses and vodka barkeep”

Remus took the ordered drinks from the stunned tender and followed Darius upstairs, they pushed the beds together and drank into the night just the two of them, before settling down to sleep. Remus being the cuddle bug he was, protectively curled around Darius who pretended to struggle and then settled into his chest and tangled their legs together.

It would be a late start, but she could live with that every once in a while.

———-

Mod: AHHHHHH, I ADORE THIS! Remus and Darius together are so sweet and I love how they protect Patton while making some coin.

#submission #@hikarisakurariver #amazing fic

[war-of-the-words]

Autumn

Summary: Prompt fill: Kaishin Discord Server - Autumn Written Sept 2018 Read on AO3

Autumn had finally arrived. The weather was becoming cooler, jackets now necessary, a relief from the intense summer they had had.Trees were beginning to change color, green fading into an array of reds, oranges, yellows and browns. Perhaps Shinichi’s favorite part of the season was the cold mornings. The old, wood floors of his childhood home froze his toes, leading him to wear slippers, and the chill in the air to a blanket over his shoulders; most notably, however, was that the first cup of coffee was all the more satisfying. Sure, the hot beverage would burn his tongue, but it was worth it to feel the warmth of the drink spread through his body, warming his soul.

These mornings were all the more pleasant nowadays. He got to share them with Kaito. Mornings weren’t as cold when you woke up in your lover’s arms, plus, he didn’t have to be the one to wake up and start the coffee, he could wait until the smell of the intoxicating brew wafted its way into Shinichi’s bedroom before having to make his way downstairs. When he was down there, Kaito already had a cup prepared, not to mention being able to cuddle on the couch kept him warm. Shinichi loved Kaito and would never use him for anything, but he had to admit it was nice to have his own giant hot water bottle for cold mornings.

Not only did this giant, walking water bottle make his morning coffee, he also took him on cute, fall themed dates, what more could a man want? Kaito was currently throwing one hand around in elaborate gestures, excitedly talking about the day he had planned for the two of the. His other hand was resting on Shinichi’s waist, holding him close underneath the blanket as Shinichi let his hands warm up on his coffee cup, taking long sips and enjoying the sound of his lover’s voice. “...and then we can come home and cuddle and watch that movie I told you about.” Shinichi hummed in approval. “You only heard half of what I said, didn’t you?” Shinichi hummed again, in agreement. “That just means the date will be a surprise. Life is more fun that way anyway.”

After Shinichi had finished his coffee, Kaito rushed to get the detective dressed, eager to get the day started. When Shinichi had deemed himself thoroughly prepared, he met Kaito at the front door. The magician was practically buzzing with excitement. Shinichi rolled his eyes, how he managed to be so excited for each date, Shinichi didn’t know; he felt the same, however, even if it didn’t show on his face.

Kaito took him by the hand and lead them down the streets of Beika, a skip in his step as they talked about Kaito’s upcoming shows, books they had read, the weird morning T.V. show they had been watching, anything that came to mind. All the while, Kaito lead them around corners and down different alleyways, Shinichi grew up here, but the way Kaito got around always left him feeling a little lost, so when Kaito pulled them down a short alley that lead them to a small park, it was like entering a portal to another world.

The trees were full of fall color. Brilliant reds, vibrant oranges, and vivid yellows colored the branches of large, struddy looking trees. Despite being in a city, the leaf covered pathways were devoid of people, although birds and squirrels flitted in and out of Shinichi’s view. “How did you find this place?” Shinichi asked, his voice full of awe. Kaito grinned at his boyfriend’s reaction.

“You would be surprised at the things you can see from a bird’s eye view.” Kaito had, of course, scouted the place after spotting it from the air. He had to ensure it was a good date location before he took his darling anywhere. The park had been everything Kaito had hoped it would be. It was the perfect location for this date, and it had to be, he had been planning this date for months, ever since the weather had started to cool. Tugging at his boyfriend’s hand, he lead them onto the path, the crisp leaves crunching under foot. They walked, hand in hand, admiring the beautiful colors, the silence between them comfortable. The birds chirped from somewhere in the high branches, and the soft breeze carried leaves down, falling gently, almost like a dance, to the ground below. The park may have been small, but the tree cover was so dense, and it was so quiet, Shinichi could have believed Kaito had somehow teleported him away into a distant forest.

They had wandered that way for almost an hour, before Kaito pulled Shinichi to a stop. He was staring a large, beautiful maple tree. The red of its leaves were like a fine, red wine. Light managed to sneak through its branches, casting delicate shadows onto the pair’s faces. “Well,” Kaito said, a mischievous grin on his face, “let’s go.”

“Go where?” Shinichi asked, confused as Kaito approached the tree then made a leap for one of the low hanging branches. The magician quickly pulled himself up into the branches, disappearing from Shinichi’s view. “ Kuroba Kaito, I am not a squirrel. ” Shinichi marched to the base of the tree, looking up into the canopy to try to spot his boyfriend. He was standing in the higher boughs of the maple, grinning down at him, eyes alight with mirth, the light sneaking through illuminated his face, and the warm colors around him only made Shinichi realize how startling beautiful the magician’s eyes were. If he wasn’t already smitten, hearing Kaito giggle, looking so ethereal, certainly solidified his love for the other.

“I’ll help you up,” Kaito said, laughter in his voice, “all you had to do was ask.” Kaito elegantly maneuvered his way to the lower branches, Shinichi mesmerized by the graceful movements. The smug look he gave Shinichi when he reached a low branch let the detective know his admiring looks hadn’t been lost on the magician. Shinichi was sure the blush he gave in return was the same color as the maple leaves.

Kaito had somehow managed to lead them up through the branches, and now they were seated up there, near the base of the tree, perched on two large branches high off the ground. All Shinichi could see was the red of the maple. Kaito admired his lover for a moment, much like how Shinichi had admired him just moments before. The detective look like he was in a trance, eyes staring out into the branches, the light making his face glow in its golden light. Kaito loved that look in Shinichi’s eyes, it was one of wonder and of innocence. It was a rare look on the detective’s face, it was hard when he was constantly surrounded by death and betrayal. His blue eyes shone like a clear autumn sky, his face was relaxed, not twisted in concentration. Don’t get him wrong, Kaito loved watching Shinichi solve a mystery, but sometimes, he needed to see Shinichi like this, to know that he was relaxing and enjoying what was around him.

Kaito pulled a picnic basket from where he had stowed it in the tree this morning, before Shinichi got up. He nudged the other with it, shaking him from his entranced state. “I’m not even going to ask,” Shinichi said, looking at the basket and rolling his eyes, but there was a soft smile on his lips.

They ate up there, in the trees, laughing and talking and taking and just enjoying the feeling of isolation. It was there own little world up there, and no one could interfere. Once they finished, Kaito began putting everything back in the basket, still smiling and chatting, while Shinichi gazed at him. Slowly, carefully, he leaned forward, meeting Kaito’s lips as the other turned to look at him. The magician jumped slightly, caught off guard at the sudden kiss, but he quickly melted into it. It was small and chaste, but it carried Shinichi’s emotions clearly. Shinichi pulled back, embarrassed. Kaito only giggled at his love’s flustered face. “What was that for? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Nothing,” Shinichi answered bluntly, despite the blush still coloring his face. “I just love you.” Now it was Kaito who matched the maple leaves. It was rare, but Shinichi could fluster Kaito if he tried hard enough, and it was a treat every time. Kaito tried to form a sentence, but all of his words came out incoherent. Eventually, he gave up with a little whine, burying his face in his hands.”

“You aren’t allowed to do that, Shinichi. That has to be illegal.” Shinichi let out a laugh. He nudged Kaito’s foot to get his boyfriend to look at him.

“Let’s get home and watch that movie.” Kaito nodded in agreement, still too embarrassed to speak.

The movie ended up being fairly mediocre, but the two didn’t mind. They were pressed together on the couch, relishing in one another’s company, making jokes about the plot holes in the movie’s story and coming up with wild ideas that would improve the movie’s quality. It was looking like a cold, fall day. The trees were changing, the birds were leaving, and winter was fast approaching, but if the rest of autumn was like today, the pair was looking forward to it.

#one shot #kudou shinichi #kudo shinichi #kuroba kaito #kaishin #kudou shinichi/kuroba kaito #dcmk #player 2 #kaishin server prompts

[playmebackwards]

hey y’all, i’m velouria and i’m always late to the frickin party! well, better late than never, right? i’ll introduce you to all my kids but first up, binyamin ‘benny’ katzer, jewish werewolf with a whole lot of trauma!

&. 【 sh, do you hear I WAS A TEENAGE WEREWOLF by THE CRAMPS playing ? that must mean BINYAMIN ‘BENNY’ KATZER is coming, the 23 year old CISMALE that goes by HE/HIM, currently employed as a GRAVEDIGGER AT OLDGATE CEMETERY. they’re a WEREWOLF in oldgate for eh, i’d say about TWO MONTHS. tough luck, huh ? least they got their REVERENT, INTELLIGENT, GUARDED and FEEBLE stuff to fall back on. anyway, it’s best to get out of here. their ( silver chai necklace glinting in the sun, worn comic books with the spines cracked, a bookcase filled with mel brooks films, bits of leaf found in dark blond hair nowhere near the forest ) vibe gives me the creeps !

trigger warnings: mentions of bullying, mass murder/massacre, ptsd

grew up in santa barbara, ca in a conservative jewish family (conservative as in the branch of judaism, not like republican lol); the younger brother of tovah katzer, park ranger. binyamin grew up as a regular class clown, a rather jovial kid that used humor as a defense mechanism. he was a decent student, but suffered from bullying over his small stature and religion.

because of the bullying at school, binyamin grew very guarded and only felt very close to his mother. though he had a few good friends in his social circle, he was very much a nerd and somewhat obnoxious, so he wasn’t well liked by most of his grade. he had a pleasant relationship with his older sister tovah but they were not socially close, even as children.

a stereotypical nerd, he spent most of his free time playing violent video games or at school band practice. he grew up very observant of his religion and spent a lot of time at the local jcc.

benny, as he was commonly called by his peers, wanted to be a stand-up comic as a teenager. his hero was (and still is) mel brooks, humor was the only way benny could really relate to other people and it shielded him from the world when relating to others only ended up hurting him.

as the years went on and high school was coming to a close, things lightened up at school and the bullying ceased majorly from its height in middle school and early high school. while he was never considered popular, it wasn’t so hard to get up and go to school in the morning during his junior and senior years.

he chose to go to usc santa barbara since it was a state school and not too far from his childhood home. while his dreams of being a stand-up comic had diminished, binyamin was still considering it when high school came to an end, but ultimately he picked a computer science major at his father’s insistence that he have an actual career, and if he really wanted to do stand-up comedy, he’d at least have something to fall back on if it didn’t work out.

usc santa barbara was a lot different from a small suburban high school and binyamin felt isolated and elated simultaneously. a few people from his former high school also elected to attend ucsb, so he had a social circle he could rely on but he was also able to branch out and accumulate new friendships from the people in his classes and social clubs at the school. by his junior year, binyamin had carved out a good group of friends.

benny had always known his family was different; his father, while a good man, was often quite secretive and left for weeks at a time. they blamed it on his work, but it seemed these business trips would always take place around the full moon. it wasn’t until his older sister tovah developed her shifting ability that their parents revealed that their father is a werewolf; they were unsure if, being the children of just one werewolf and a human, that the werewolf gene would pass onto the kids. while tovah had shifting ability, binyamin didn’t develop his at the same time and by the time he was 19, they were all pretty sure only tovah was a werewolf like their dad.

but that was only until he was 19. while on a road trip for spring break with his college buddies, a man sabotaged their vehicle and then hunted them down with a rifle, picking them off one by one. (think wolf creek and texas chainsaw massacre) benny was the only one to survive—all thanks to his inner wolf. halfway through the event, benny finally acquired his shifting ability, tearing apart his assailant and ending the massacre. benny doesn’t remember much about the event, only that some of his friends had animal bites on them, and he feels an immense amount of guilt over the very idea he was responsible for any deaths (besides the killer).

the nevada farmhouse massacre, as dubbed by the media, split benny’s life into parts: before, after. normal, werewolf. having developed ptsd from the event, it took years for benny’s life to get somewhat back to normal. he avoided leaving the house, taking care of himself, scaring his family. while he was cleared of all wrongdoing by the cops, benny hasn’t forgiven himself, though he’s not exactly sure what he did or did not do during that time. after a year or so, benny went back to college, but in ohio instead, trying to get as far away as possible from california as he could. he completed his remaining credits for college and earned a degree in computer science. he started to go by the name b. chayim katz.

working as an i.t. specialist for a little while, things were going good for him, but then it was discovered that he was living under an alias in akron and his location/information posted on all the true crime subreddits/blogs. fearing further harassment and having another breakdown, benny called finally his sister tovah, a park ranger in california, and they made plans to live together as benny couldn’t handle being by himself.

they decided to move to oldgate, louisiana, where tovah could continue being a park ranger and benny didn’t know what he was going to be (though he had a degree in computer science, it had been tainted by the doxxing), but he couldn’t be in ohio anymore and he vowed never to live on the west coast again. #anustart

the siblings katzer have only been in oldgate for two months now, benny picking up a job as a gravedigger at the cemetery as it would give him something to do and very little interaction with people. they haven’t registered with the local pack yet, figuring they’re the only wolves in town, but the katzers have always been on the outside of wolf society due to their religion and their general quiet nature. they’re not rogues/lone wolves, but they try to keep to themselves as much as possible. benny definitely ain’t no alcide lmao.

connections:

a fellow werewolf! the first one, besides his own sister, that benny comes across in oldgate, and really anywhere. the katzer wolves tend to keep to themselves, not exactly labeled omegas but they don’t subscribe the whole macho persona that a lot of packs have going on.

someone to recognize him! while benny was never a celebrity, anyone that’s a true crime fan would be sure to recognize him as the farmhouse case has been covered in many podcasts and blogs. as he left ohio because he was recognized, he’d be totally freaked out by someone in this new small town realizing who he is, but the connection in question agrees to keep his secret/not harass him abt it.

someone he can get close to! benny is very reserved and quiet, even before the massacre, but doubly so now. he doesn’t talk very much, rarely makes eye contact, and spends most of his time alone; it would be very nice if someone could coax him out of his shell and become a good friend to him. extra points to anyone that wants to turn this toxic later down the road and have them manipulate benny, bc i’m fucking messy lol.

someone that’s very anti-werewolf! since werewolf society is still in the dark compared to the vampires and benny doesn’t make his wolf status known to most people, the person in question doesn’t know he’s a werewolf and basically talks shit abt them all the time. benny’s too afraid to speak up and let them know how much they’re insulting him lmao.

i can’t really think of anything else right now! but message me to plot and we’ll cook up something fun :) im me on here or ask for my discord!!

#fangfmooc #hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. ) #massacre tw #ptsd tw #bullying tw #i only proofread this once lmao sry

[patricianandclerk]

(Not) Meant To Be

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Dragon Age Discord | Requests always welcome!

“And what are these? Reagents?” Varric asked, and Dorian nodded his head, leaning over the list.

“For the most part, barring… This is a catalyst,” he said, tapping one item on the list. “And this is an alternative to stripweed.”

“Like… Like the tea?” Varric asked. “Why can’t you just use stripweed? We’ve got tons of the stuff.”

“He’s allergic,” said the Iron Bull from the doorway, where he was doing his best to look casual despite having to bend his knees to fit against the door jamb, and Dorian stared at him, surprised. Varric glanced between the two of them, chuckled, and made a note of it.

“Sure, Sparkler, can do.”

“Thank you, Varric,” Dorian murmured. “Whatever I can do in return—”

“Consider it a favour. None of this stuff is hard to pick, right?”

“No, not at all,” Dorian murmured, and he stepped away. Bull was waiting for him in the doorway to Varric’s room, and Dorian stepped out toward him, closing the door behind them.

He hadn’t actually spoken to Bull since two days previous, when he’d woken up in his bed. It had been… pleasant, that morning. Bull had kissed him for what felt like hours, and they’d frotted like schoolboys, it had been so messy, but so tremendously, wonderfully good…

“You mind if we talk?” the Bull asked, his voice quiet.

“Not at all,” Dorian said, not able to look the other man in the eye – but then, he hardly needed additional excuses for that, what with how tall the bastard was. He moved down the walkway a bit, grasping at his door handle, still unlocked as it was, and Bull caught his wrist.

“We can talk out here, if you want,” Bull said. “Nice day.”

“You don’t want to sit down?”

“You don’t like having men in your bedroom,” Bull said, simply.

“And I’m allergic to stripweed,” Dorian murmured, trying to keep his face neutral. He didn’t want to let himself forget that the Iron Bull was a Qunari spy, that he was a Ben-Hassrath. He didn’t want to let himself forget that the Iron Bull was over a foot taller than him, could snap him like a twig if he so chose, that he probably had an assassination method planned for every single person in Skyhold. He couldn’t let himself forget the way that his mouth had tasted, when he’d kissed Dorian, cradled the back of his head and laid him back on the bed like he was made of something fine and delicate. “What should it matter to you, who I allow or don’t allow in my bedroom?”

The Iron Bull shrugged his shoulders, looking out over the battlements, at the blue, blue skies. Tomorrow morning, the Inquisitor would set out with Varric, Cassandra, and Vivienne, moving west. Dorian almost wished he was going with them, if only to avoid the Iron Bull, but he knew that was cowardly of him.

He was a coward, after all. Always running…

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” the Iron Bull said simply. “Figure I did already, though.”

“No,” Dorian said.

“That why you’re looking at my nips instead of my face?”

“Kaffas, Bull, don’t… Don’t call them that,” Dorian said, risking a look up at the Bull’s face. The Bull was looking down at him, smiling slightly, his head tilted to the side. Dorian felt the guilt surge within him as water in a geyser, threatening to blow.

“Listen,” Bull said, “I had a good time with you the other morning. Not saying we gotta go all the time. Not saying we have to go ever again, if you didn’t like it. Just laying my cards on the table: I like you. You’re fun, you’re pretty, you’re good in bed, and you’re good. You want to have sex again, cool, we can have sex. You don’t? That’s cool too.”

“You wouldn’t have sex with me,” Dorian said quietly, forcing himself to keep Bull’s gaze, “because you thought I was too drunk. Do you think I have a drinking problem?”

Bull shrugged. “Maybe, he said. Me too.”

“You too?” Dorian repeated, arching his eyebrows. He sounded defensive, indignant, his voice sharp, and he hated it, hated how he sounded. “What, does the good ambassador keep track of how many bottles you drink per week?” It was like being at home with his mother all over again, Dorian, how many, Dorian, which, Dorian, Dorian—

“Don’t know,” Bull said. “Never asked.”

“My darling man,” Dorian said, “I have no interest in whatever romantic cobweb you’re spinning away in your head. I want sex. Is that clear?”

“Sure,” Bull said.

“We are not star-crossed fools in a romantic play. This is not some tale of two young lovers from Par Vollen and Tevinter.”

“Okay,” Bull said.

Dorian’s hand went to the door handle of his bedroom. But you’re just proving him right, if you let him in, aren’t you? You don’t let men in your bedroom – he’s right. Your bedroom is for you. You let him in, that means you’re letting him in, doesn’t it?

It wasn’t a very nice voice. It reminded Dorian of Gereon: gentle, encouraging, in its tone, and yet so focused on the hard questions.

“Do take me, then,” Dorian said.

“Can do,” Bull said, grinning, and kicked the door shut behind him. “Nice room.”

“No talking!” Dorian said, and Bull’s hand clasped tightly over Dorian’s mouth, making him whimper.

“Got it,” Bull said in a stage-whisper, shooting him a one-eyed wink that really shouldn’t have worked, and shoved him toward the bed.

--

“So, Dorian,” the Bull said, some weeks later, in full earshot of the entire Crestwood encampment, “about last night.”

He had, at the very least, chosen to hold back for a little while, which was impressive enough in itself, given that he ordinarily couldn’t stop himself going on and on about tavern girls and serving wenches and stable boys. Dorian could, at least, give him that. Still, though, a hot flush burned on the back of his neck, uncertain. They hadn’t agreed not to talk about it. He’d assumed the Bull would begin to brag immediately, had never bothered to mention it.

In Tevinter…

But then, this wasn’t Tevinter.

“Discretion isn’t your thing, is it?” Dorian asked.

“Three times!” Bull growled, delightedly.

Dorian glanced at him. Three? They’d shared a bath together – ridiculously awkward, finding a steel tin big enough for Bull’s gigantic bulk – and merely drawn it out. Three…?

“Also, do you want your silky underthings back, or did you leave those like a token? Or… wait! Did you “forget” them so you’d have an excuse to come back? You sly dog!”

Bull was looking right at him, a grin on his face, and Dorian shifted in his seat, doing his best not to smile. This was… ridiculous. Some utter nonsense that the Bull was blurting out, to what, ensure Dorian wasn’t so embarrassed? If anything, he should be more embarrassed, if Bull was going to make up whatever he pleased…

“If you choose to leave your door unlocked like a savage,” Dorian said archly, “I may or may not come.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bull purred, and Dorian swore to keep himself from laughing.

--

“What is it, then?” Dorian asked that night in their tent, even as he perched crosslegged on Bull’s thighs, a book open on the surprisingly perfect lectern of his chest. “If you make up nonsense about our interludes, I shall be more comfortable with people knowing about our relationship at all? My poor, thin Tevinter skin might be spared the buffeting of people knowing I am perhaps— Perhaps sexually engaged?”

It wasn’t meant to be like this. It wasn’t mean to be so easy, or so nice, or—

Or any of it.

“I thought it was funny,” Bull said, playing over Dorian’s hip. “Thought you’d like a chance to complain about me.”

“Very thoughtful, I’m sure,” Dorian murmured. “You fool.” He set the book aside, and replaced it with his palms, spreading them over Bull’s chest. “These silky underthings you were imagining…”

“Yeah?”

“Perhaps…”

Bull surged to kiss him, flipping them over, and Dorian laughed, breathlessly, disbelievingly, as Bull started kissing his ear, his cheek, his neck.

#as defined by dictionary #the iron bull #dorian pavus #adoribull #dragon age #fanfic

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 25)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 

Part 26: here

“Welcome to MacDonalds Sir. Can I take your order?”

The van stops at a drive through, halfway to the hospital and his Uncle. Doom hangs over Arthur like a dense grey fog. A clock slowly counting down.

“Hey. You want anything?” The demon asks, nonchalantly rifling around in the glovebox for spare change.

Arthur’s never swum in the ocean, but he’s watched enough media to estimate and guess that this is what drowning feels like. Memories crash over him, pulling him about in waves. It’s had to keep a grip on what is current and what is past. It’s hitting him all at once. Images of Lewis falling are now mixing in with frames on Darrel’s motionless body left out in the middle of nowhere, carelessly kicked to the side of a narrow dirt road. Alone. Just like Lewis. Left behind to rot. Who knows if anyone would find him. Did Darrel have a family? Arthur can’t remember. What he does know is that it’s all his fault…and he can’t stop. Arthur needs help. He desperately needs help, but there’s no one. The only people who care are miles away and completely ignorant.

‘Why?’

The question is out before he gets the chance to clarify, his thoughts not coherent enough to manage a full sentence. There must be a reason. A point to everything. Because, if there isn’t, then there is no way that Arthur can convince this creature to stop. To leave his Uncle alone.

“Cause we’re hungry. Duh. Try not to ask dumb questions.” Arthur is dismissed, the demon turning back to order. So far, it has been quiet, exuding a calm satisfaction which is only marginally better than manic joy, ignoring Arthur’s thrashing with practised ease. This is the first time Arthur’s had the presence of mind to communicate since leaving Darrel.

At the order collection window, as the serving-girl hands over a brown and red paper bag, she points to her cheek, commenting, “Um. Sir. You have a little dirt on your face. Just there.”

“Do I?” The demon laughs good-naturedly, adjusting the rear-view mirror to reveal their reflection. Arthur looks out, unable to help himself, meeting his own gaze. Bright green eyes stare right at him. The pleasant smile shifts to become mocking. The ‘dirt’ referred to is the small flecks of Darrel’s blood, which have dried a dark brown.

“I do indeed. How embarrassing,” It chuckles, taking the bag, “Thank you for pointing that out.”

The girl smiles back, “Hey no problem. Have a good afternoon sir.”

If only she would lean further out and see the prominent blood splatter across Arthur’s front. She doesn’t. He watches powerlessly, feeling his body wave a goodbye.  

“Have to say. I love these new food options. You humans have certainly been busy this last century.”

Now. This is Arthur's opportunity to talk. He needs to use it and convince this creature to stop. It probably won’t work, if anything it’ll make everything worse, but he must try.

‘Why,’ Arthur asks a second time, pulling his focus forward.

“Why what,” The demon is deliberately obtuse, taking a bite with its free hand, steering back onto the highway with the other. Arthur would be grimacing at the taste. The last thing he wants to do is to eat greasy food. Luckily, nausea is primary a physical phenomenon, so his need to throw up is entirely associative.

‘Why are you doing this. What’s the point?’  How does he get it to stop?

The demon chews and slurps down a soda methodically like it is buying time to consider a response. More likely, it knows how anxious waiting makes Arthur.

“Because it’s fun. You know...Spread a little pain and misery. Cause trouble. Mess with the cosmic balance. You do know what fun is right?"

‘I can be plenty miserable without Uncle Lance dying.’ Arthur jumps on the connection despite how tenuous it is, ‘You’ve seen my memories! I can make anything good depressing if I want to.’

“Ha. Yeah. You do know how to screw yourself over. But, regrettably, I never leave a host alive. Personal policy. Less hassle down the line and all.”

‘He’ll be no hassle.’ Arthur lies blatantly because there was no way Lance wouldn’t try to hunt them down if given a chance, ‘Nope. No hassle at all. No one would care if I vanished right now. Especially not Lance.’

“I’m in your head, I can see you lying,” An eye roll, followed by unpleasant chuckling, “Besides, nothing beats the rush of cutting one of your pathetic lives short. All that potential. Poof. Gone.” The discordant sensation of happiness is back again, and Arthur quickly withdraws, mentally flinching away, doing his best to distance himself.

‘Someone will stop you.’  

“Who will? The dog? It’s miles away. Won’t be here till tomorrow and by then we’ll be done and dusted. I was thinking of going after Lewis’s family next. Sneak on in, in the dead of night, get em all in their sleep…”

Any further attempts at reasoning fall on deft ears. Begging is just as ineffective. All it does is inflate the awful feeling of calm satisfaction. Apprehensively, Arthur watches the demon wipe the blood off their shared face, energy well and truly spent. A grin is flashed towards the rear-view mirror which has yet to be re-adjusted. Not like this thing cares about road safety. It makes Arthur want to laugh hysterically. But he can’t. He can’t do anything.

Half an hour later, after getting waylaid by some traffic, they’re back at the hospital. All up, it’s hardly been two hours since their departure. They even park in the same spot.

Before heading inside, the demon pulls on one of Arthur’s old work shirts, which he keeps in the van for spur of the moment mechanical work. It’s got a few oil stains down the side and hasn’t seen a good wash in a while, but is inconspicuous when compared to coffee and blood splatters. Now, apart from the eyes, there is no other noticeable difference between the two of them. Nothing that screams ‘I’m a demon on a murder spree, please stop me.’ The sickly green skin Arthur had noted in his memories has faded to a natural colour.

St Peter’s Emergency Ward is as cold and sterile as he remembers. The smell of disinfectant and the return to chilled air-conditioning are equally unwelcome. Nurses, doctors and members of the public mill around, murmuring and talking in low tones. ‘Someone notice! Please,’ Arthur thinks desperately while the demon obtains directions from the reception desk. Despite Arthur’s less than clean appearance no one spares a second glance. Everyone is too busy, caught up in their work and lives, to notice his one falling apart.  

An older, matronly woman, sporting a messy bun and tired eyes, ends up leading Arthur to his Uncle’s recovery room. It’s not too far from the main entrance and is, to his dismay, empty of other patents. Space, meant for a second bed, is vacant.

Arthur, the demon- he’s having trouble separating the two -both watch the nurse check his Uncle’s IV, lowering the dosage of whatever is going into Lance’s arm. Probably a mix of pain medication and anti-inflammatories going off Arthur’s previous experience. Curiosity and interest flash between their shared mind. It is taking notes, intently watching the nurse work. Please. Turn around. Turn around and notice what a creepy monster he’s being.

When she does turn, Arthur has already stepped away, acting to part of the worried relative.

“Is he okay. Everything’s okay, right?”

“Your Uncle is recovering as per normal. He’s on a low dose of Dilaudid, to reduce pain and swelling.  It’ll make him drowsy when he regains consciousness so don’t be alarmed if he has trouble forming sentences,”

“He’ll regain consciousness? That’s good. When will that happen?” Its barely contained eagerness makes Arthur want to cry in dismay.  

“Another hour or two,” The woman gives him a perplexed sideward glance. If she does notice anything strange, it isn’t mentioned. “I’ll have a doctor come by and give you a proper run down and better details shortly.”

“Good. Good. That’s very good. Thank you for letting me know,”

A nod. A kind expression. She moves to away, passing by, leaving Arthur alone. She leaves the demon alone with his Uncle unconscious, helpless in the bed. Eagerly, the demon piolets his body forward, scanning the empty room, eyes landing briefly on the solitary clock decorating the otherwise sparse walls. 4: 59. Tick. Tick. Tick. An audible reminder that Arthur is running out of time. A hand reaches into his pocket to fiddle with Arthur’s keys and the small knife attached. Both are crusted with dry blood which crumbles when touched. They clink together threateningly.

‘What do I have to do to get you to stop. You have to want something. Anything.’

“Sure, I do. It’s just nothing you can give .” Nonchalantly, it approaches the bed, finally acknowledging Arthur's presence.

‘Don’t demons collect souls?’ He asks with increasing desperation. Can he give this thing his soul? Was that something he could do?

“Some. I don’t. I think you’ll find that ‘demon’ is a very broad term, covering a wide range of individuals. Besides, your soul is super screwy. Whatever’s shoved it back in here has bound it in tight, so I’d probably have to rip it up to get it free, rendering the activity pointless. So, no deal…But thanks for the offer. I’m flattered.”

‘Please. Stop. I’ll do anything!’

Does he really have nothing? No way to save his Uncle. The only member of his whole freakin family who gave a damn and he can’t even save him. Useless. Why does he fail in all the ways that matter most?

“Oh, don’t mope. Just think, once we finish up here, you’ll never have to worry about failing anybody ever again. No lying. No stress. Doesn’t that sound nice.”

It doesn’t sound nice. It’s the opposite of nice!

The demon drags over the one visitor's chair, which squeaks along the lino flooring, slumping down to stare at his uncle, waiting. It fingers the IV tubing, tracing the piping up to the control dial and back again. Deliberately, it pinches the thin tube shut, attention jumping back to Lance, scanning for any changes.

Waiting.

The waiting is terrible. Especially, when Arthur can feel its attention, partially giddy, laser-focused onto his Uncle. Arthur’s never seen the man look so pale or sickly. Apart from the odd work-related accident, which is impossible to avoid even with strict safety standards, his Uncle has always been healthy. Even the rare times he has seen the man sick it was still ‘no big deal,’ ‘just a scratch,’ or ‘the bodies way of forcing me ta rest.’ While Arthur flip-flopped from one emotional extreme to the next, his Uncle had been a steady, seemingly indestructible, pillar of support. Arthur had never said thank you for any of that. Worse, he’d repaid all that kindness with lies and evasion. Lance should have never taken him in. He had been more trouble than it was worth in his original timeline and he’s definitely not worth it now.

“Hey. HEY!” The demon grows tired of the waiting and gives his Uncle a light slap on the cheek with its free hand, “Wake up.”

“Arthur?” The word is half muttered, barely audible. Lance is phasing into consciousness slowly.  

‘Just say asleep. Stay asleep a little longer. Someone has to come in and stop him. Please.’

“In a manner of speaking. Yeah. I’m Arthur.”

That gets his Uncle’s attention. Lance violently twitches, forcing an eye open. It locks onto him, hazy but critical. Despite being in obvious pain a hand flashes out, snapping onto to Arthur’s wrist, pulling the hand away from his face. The grip is firm abet weaker than Arthur’s expecting.

“Whoa, you might want to take it easily Uncle Lance. Wouldn’t want to pull any stitches. You were stabbed five times you know.”

“You,” His Uncle growls hatefully, eyes narrowing, “Get out of Arthur ya fuckin, slimy piece of shit, bastard.”

“That’s some strong language. And in front of your nephew. He’s watching you know,”

A loose flick and the demon frees its wrist, efficiently shoving his Uncle back down when he attempts to lunge outwards. The hash action causes Lance to grunt in obvious pain. A move towards the emergency call remote has the demon snatching it up and placing it on the small table just out of reach, tutting in disappointment.

“I’ll get ya. Mark my words…You’ll regret this,” His Uncle spits, his attempts at sitting foiled.  His face is pure revulsion and fury. That determination and fire is something Arthur’s never seen directed his way before. It’s all in vain. Nothing matters. Not anymore.

A teasing, “How? You can’t even move. Soon you’ll never move again.” The demon releases its hold on the IV and turns the control dial up to its max setting. Dismayed, Arthur watches the drug take quick effect, rapidly dulling his Uncle’s movements. Eventually, Lance just lies still and glares, even while his eyes are dropping shut.

“Don’t worry about your nephew. He’ll be safe with me. Since you care so much and all.” The glare faulters much to the demon’s renewed glee. The predatory buzz is back, coiled alongside a sensation of anticipation and pleasure.

“Arthur.” His Uncle’s voice loses its heat, softening. He’s struggling to stay conscience, drowsy, eyes shutting.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please. Stop. Please. PLEASE.’

A knife is produced after a small struggle. The hinge, which usually allowed it to flip cleanly open, is stiff, jammed with blood. The key ring makes a clinking sound, hitting the side of the metal bed frame. Tap. Tap. Tap. It echoes through the room in time with the ticking clock.

“Now. How do we go about this in a way that won’t immediately alert the plebs?”

‘NONONONO!’

“Kindy slow bleed? Good choice.”

“Nighty night,” It stands upright. The chair squeaks. Blankets and paper thin robe are pulled aside in an energetic flourish, revealing the assortment of bandages covering his Uncle’s chest and side. A second is spent in meticulous calculation. The knife is carefully positioned and thrust in. The demon waits for a beat before pushing forward against any resistance, twisting, then drawing out. Cold satisfaction. His Uncle’s fingers catch on Arthur’s retreating arm. This time, there is no strength behind the grasp, and it’s easily shrugged off.

“Not….You…r… Fa..ul…t...” The words are mumbled and slurred, swallowed up by the silent room. The clock on the wall ticks.

“Eh. Suppose we’ll look a bit suspicious if we stick around.”  

The blanket is tossed back into place, covering the reopened wound. They turn, strolling towards the door, practically skipping back down to the reception. Arthur can feel himself splitting, joy mixing in with panic and grief.

Just like his life, he’s falling to pieces. 

NOTE: re-writes, re-writes for days. But finally got a version I’m mostly happy with. I’m hoping to have the next section out within a shorter time frame so people aren't stuck on the cliff hanger but no promises.

Part 26: here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #fanfic #arthur kingsmen #lance kingsmen #the demon? #character death #dark #angst #coarse language #graphic descriptions of violence #emotional disorientation #shit has well and truly hit the fan

[comicteaparty]

February 5th-February 11th, 2020 Reader Favorites Archive

The archive for the Reader Favorites chat that occurred from February 5th, 2020 to February 11th, 2020.  The chat focused on the following question: 

How does knowing or not knowing a webcomic’s creator(s) personally affect when you read, how you read, and similar? 

carcarchu

It actually affects my impression of their work because there's this one webcomic that I really like but I find some of the things the artist has done in the past to be unsavoury. I don't want to hold it against that artist because I want to believe that they are able to grow and apologize for their mistakes (although they never actually did apologize for what they did as far as I know) but every time I read their comic there's always this nagging thought at the back of my head about what they did and it really limits my enjoyment of their comic which is otherwise amazing(edited)

Capitania do Azar

I read a lot of comics first, and only after I go look for their authors. So in that regard, no. Most of the times I get to know the author it doesn't affect me much, but I can't say it never happened (but it was mostly if the personality traits I disliked actually managed to bleed into the comic, tho I understand that I am more prone to noticing them in the comic after noticing them in the person)

Deo101 [Millennium]

For the most part, I only start reading a comic once I get to know someone and like them. Its a way I show them I support them and their work, and oftentimes it really helps me enjoy it way more than I otherwise would.

I'm kind of already invested, and I have a baseline understanding of what they're doing before I start, which helps me a lot because I have a hard time understanding things, personally.

DanitheCarutor

Usually I don't really care? I don't connect the creator with their work in the sense that they're technically two separate entities, and while one can't be possible without the other, whatever type of personality the creator has doesn't affect my reading experience because I don't really care about the creator as a person... as cold as that sounds. There are some exceptions. If a creator acts super comfortable with me, I'll feel more comfortable with them and be more into promoting pretty much everything of theirs, I'll probably also like their content more because of the interaction. If they treat me like crap, like actually being abusive, then I'll be soured to consuming their work. I attempt to have this apply to generally awful people too, like sexual predators, abusers, peadophiles, etc. Although I admit I'm a weak bitch for (these not webcomic related) artists like Michael Jackson, Frank Sinatra, Caravaggio (a late 1500's Italian painter who was also a convicted murderer), H.P Lovecraft and Carlo Gesualdo (a 16th century composer who was also a murderer). It really sucks because there are a lot of works out there that are really good, in my opinion, created by less than great people. I may as well deprive myself of most art to avoid morally reprehensible, or potentially morally reprehensible people.(edited)

But to get back on topic! Yeah, no, I don't really care about what type of personality you have. Whether it's salty or sweet, we're flawed people and it's dumb to expect webcomic creators to act like examples of human perfection, or be role models for everyone. At least in my very bias opinion... as someone who gets a lot of crap for having a blunt, non-sugary personality.

NOT saying people who's reading experience is affected by certain personalities are dumb! I just find it dumb for me personally, other people can do whatever they want. (I can't English this morning.)(edited)

Capitania do Azar

Caravaggio stans in the house

RebelVampire

This is a tricky question for me that comes in many layers. I don't really need to know a creator to want to read their work. So not knowing them rarely has any effect for me. If I think the work is good, I'll generally read regularly. Though it makes me less likely to comment, that doesn't change whether I think the work is good or not or my enjoyment of it. But then there is knowing the creator, which is a messy topic for me that is kind of a double edged sword. On the one hand, knowing the creator may make me more likely to comment, chat, and engage with the work as I read it - especially if I find the creator to be laid back and happy to let readers have fun with their content. I am also generally more inspired to re-read and analyze the work much more deeply than I would during a normal read too. Even if I don't think the work is that good, knowing the creator can make a difference for me in that realm too. Especially if I think the creator is super nice and overall a pleasant person, I will read their comic to support them and show appreciation for their work. But on the other other hand, there have been a few instances where I've been turned off from reading something because of knowing the creator. Which make no mistake - I wholeheartedly believe in separation of creator and their work. So for me, if a work is good and doesn't promote the same sort of stuff I disliked the creator for, then I'll probably still read it. However, if I don't think the work is good in the first place, and I find the creator to just be too toxic, I do admittedly stop reading it completely, if only just to avoid the creator at all costs.(edited)

DanitheCarutor

@Capitania do Azar

Capitania do Azar

@DanitheCarutor

BadSprite

I'm usually really attentive towards the comics my friends make. Since I talk to them on a more regular basis, it's easier for me to remember to keep up reading. That aside, I really don't look into the author when reading a comic I usually let the content speak for itself.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Knowing the creator doesn't typically affect my reading habits, unless I was sort of on the fence about continuing to read their work in the first place. So if the comic is meh... and I found out that the creator is not so great either, I will likely drop the comic. But on the other hand, if the creator is really honest and open with their audience, and generally kind, I can forgive a lot of their artistic mistakes. I will say though that with comics that I am really engaged in, I usually seek out the artist's social media to learn more about them. And the more I learn about them usually only makes me more involved in engaging.

kayotics

I don’t HAVE to know the author to read the comic, but knowing them does change my reaction to their comic. I have a lot of friends who are authors, and I’m more likely to read their comics when I probably wouldn’t have found them otherwise. On the other hand when I’m reading a comic and something happens that makes me like them as a person less, it’s harder for me to enjoy the comic, and I usually end up dropping it. Overall, I prefer to not learn more about authors of comics that I’m already invested in.

Ranger

I don't personally know any other creators, so usually I take the comic alone, but sometimes the creator turns out to be more interesting than the comic. penny-arcade.com is one like that, for me, I don't regularly read anymore but I follow the miniature-painting that they do, still. Someone mentioned hoping that comic creators learn and apologize, and that has been the case for that particular comic, as well, they've done some stupid stuff and apologized for it, and hopefully grown from it. It would seem to me that if you have an active social media presence you're going to eventually make a stupid mistake, so I hope if it ever happens to me I can apologize and change, as well.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Don't know any comic creators irl. But even just talking about people on this server I'm definitely more invested in Phantomarine and Ingress than I otherwise would be because I've seen the authors on this discord and others. Also some comics I've found through other discords or forums. I would still be reading the comics otherwise, but maybe not following week-by-week. There are also many other comics from people here that I've checked out and found to be not my cup of tea, but I read way more of them than I otherwise would have. Maybe in an ideal world we wouldn't be affected by our opinions of the authors, but I can't help it. Anyways, one of the most unique things about webcomics is our ability to talk to comic authors and readers directly.

Question to other comic creators here: Do you think that your own social media presence is one that makes people like your comic more?(edited)

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I don't know if it has made my readers like my comic more. In fact, very few of my readers actually follow my social media accounts. That being said, I think social media has gotten me a few new readers.

It's more of an audience growth thing than a discussion about my comic

I wish readers would discuss my comic outside of the comment section more, haha

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

If I find a comic I like, I often want more of its 'side content' - and I often get that side content by finding and following the creator and seeing other things they do or like. So many times, the webcomics we create are little windows into ourselves - things we like, hold dear, hold to be important, want to say, etc. So seeing the creator just be themselves, it's almost like I'm getting more of the flavor of the webcomic, but under a different light. And it does keep me much more engaged if I know them and they know me. I think a healthy social media presence can absolutely help build an audience - I'm lucky that all of my comic's 'fans' (that still sounds yucky to say, blech!) have become my friends in some way. I've often thought my work is like a friend trap - if people like my comic, and my comic is an extension of myself, they might like me too. So we end up befriending each other anyway

Deo101 [Millennium]

That kind of "friend trap" idea is how I feel about it too hehe

Ranger

I get way more traffic on my website for my comic than I have followers, so I guess it probably is more that my media funnels to my comic than my comic to the media.

DanitheCarutor

Eeeh Unless it's comic related I'm not much for small talk, or openly letting people know what kind of person I am. I'll talk about my interests, and some mental health stuff because I know being open about that is important, but that's it. Personally I would rather readers 100% focus on my comic without noticing me.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

If a friend of mine makes a comic, I want to read it, even if it’s a genre I really don’t like. It helps me understand them better, because I know I personally express a lot of myself through my comics. I’m not a very open or trusting person, so I will express things through my art that I won’t otherwise talk about, and I think it can be the same for other people, as well. Apart from friends, I really do like getting to know the creators of comics I like. I like when they share a bit about themselves under the comic updates, even if it’s not about the drama of their life; just talking about little things like movies they watched or a book they enjoyed. I like to know there’s a person behind the art, and I often feel less engaged by comics if the creator stays detached and never writes blogs or participates in the comments. I want to get to know them at least a little, and I love when a creator is willing to have conversations with their readers. So overall, my engagement is very much affected by whether I know an artist personally. I’m more likely to read and continue following if it’s someone I interact with, and much more willing to try comics outside of my interests.(edited)

As for whether my enjoyment of a work is affected by a creator’s behaviour.... I have to say it 100% is. I wish I could separate artist from creation, but I have a really hard time with that. My ‘guilt by association’ reflex is very strong, and a negative experience with the authors makes me feel unsettled or outright distressed whenever I see their work. A really good example was one of my favourite comics way back in ‘the early days’ of webcomics. I won’t name any names, but there was a comic I absolutely loved. It was fantastically written, had imaginative and very well thought-out world-building and had so many good messages of love, bravery, and acceptance in it. I followed it for years, always eagerly anticipating the next page. Seeing a new page posted could literally make my whole day. Well, one year the author overhauled his website, and there was a new chat room attached to it. One day I ventured into the chat, only to find it filled with political vitriol. The author spent his whole time insulting and slinging mud at people on the other side of his political alignment. I was shocked and dismayed that someone who had such a wholesome comic could behave this way (just for the record, I have plenty of friends who have both the same and complete opposite political views as me. I don’t hate people for their political alignments, but I can’t stand when anyone hurls insults at people who believe differently than they do). It completely ruined one of my favourite comics. Every time I read a page where the characters expressed love or joy or acceptance, those vitriolic insults I’d seen the author write floated up into my head. All I could think about was how much hatred he was filled with. How much he hated people like me. The whole message of the comic, which had felt like a beacon of light to me for years, now felt like a lie. I couldn’t read it anymore.(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

That sucks, Cap. I can never understand how situations like that occur, where the author is so different from their work. Especially because I think of my comic as being very reflective of myself, like I'm sure many others here do. I wonder if in situations like that it is just me interpreting the work more charitably than it deserves, or if the author intentionally writes with a different voice? Or maybe it's a kind of doublethink, where people don't think to apply their morals to themselves?

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I’m the same, My comics are very much an expression of myself, and written as a way to process some of the things I’m dealing with. I’ve the feeling in this case it was the latter; that the author honestly believed his messages, but was not self-aware enough to realise his behaviour was completely contrary to what he was writing. It was unfortunate and a great deal of why I felt like his comic was now a lie. That someone could sincerely believe they were loving and accepting while also spewing hatred at people different from them was too much cognitive dissonance for me to deal with.(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I wonder how he would have reacted if someone called him out on it?

Probably poorly(edited)

DanitheCarutor

It might be a sort of escapism thing. There are some psychology groups out there that discuss the subject of relating depression with comedy, and how extremely troubled individuals like Robin Williams or Richard Jeni were comedians. I don't remember who it was, because I saw the video a long time ago, but I vaguely remember a stand-up comedian talking about how they love making people laugh to offset how bad their life was or how bad they felt. Something along those lines. Maybe it's something similar with storytellers/writers. I've actually seen a lot of cases where what a person's writing or drawings are the polar opposite to their outlook on life or their personality, and follow some artists who say they like the escapism/catharsis of it. Like, maybe the person was making a comic about being a person they wished they were, or a life they wished they had. Although I might just be looking too deep into it, and the author is just a douchebag hypocrite.

But yeah, I may not be able to relate since I'm so... me, but that does suck, and I can understand how you would be affected by an experience like that.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

It's definitely pretty hard to stay engaged in a story when the author so egregiously opposes my core beliefs. This happened to me after I read a novel I enjoyed, and then I found out that the author was a homophobic jerk. Left a sour taste in my mouth whenever I thought about how much I had enjoyed their book.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Could it have been Orson Scott Card? Think he's the most infamous for that kind of thing

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Omg

Yes

I wasn't gonna mention names

But yes

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

eh when people get to that level of fame I think it's okay

Like saying how JK Rowling likes TERF stuff on twitter(edited)

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Yeah....

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

she's big enough that journalists have reported on her already

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I won’t name names as to who this webcomicker was because I don’t like throwing others under the bus.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Authors shooting themselves in the foot tbh

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

But yeah, I can’t read HP anymore bc JKR is a TERF. Which is a shame bc I was a HUGE HP fan for many years. I was one of the ‘liked it before it was cool’ kids. Now... it definitely leaves a bad taste in my mouth when I try to read the books.(edited)

It’s always heartbreaking when I discover that a creator who made something I love and connected with despises my entire existence.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

But yeah I liked Ender's Game as well. Read some of his other books too, but those were more reflective of his personal opinions, I think. In his case I feel like his religion and strict ideas about family affect his public opinions, but maybe he writes books with how he subconsiously thinks an ideal world is? For JK Rowling maybe it wasn't a coincidence her most evil character was also the one that modified his body the most.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I think one of the few exceptions of ‘hate the creator’s public behaviour but love the creation’ for me is Hideki Kamiya. The guy is an absolute asshole, but I don’t think anything could stop me from loving the game Ōkami. Although games being a huge group effort helps, as he wasn’t solely responsible for bringing it to life.(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I also don't think OSC's books are unaffected by his opinion. Don't know how far you got in the series, Cronaj, but if you read Speaker for the Dead it was very weird and jarring how Ender meets this single mother and fixes her whole dysfunctional family by being a male influence and then randomly marries her and adopts her children even though they have practically no chemistry. It was like OSC was forcing his idea about everyone only being able to find true happiness through raising a family into the book.

Don't know anything about Hideki Kamiya, but can sort of relate. Rurouni Kenshin's author was arrested for possession of child porn but I still love that series : (

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

OH NO, WHAT?? I... did not know that. Rurouni Kenshin is one of my old favourites. :C(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

https://www.crunchyroll.com/anime-news/2017/11/21-1/rurouni-kenshin-manga-author-charged-with-possession-of-child-pornography

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Uuuugh.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I read it as a kid and I'm still nostalgic for it. One of the only manga I've seen where a fighting character actually gets permanently injured from his battles.

And gets weaker over time

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) I only read Enchantment, which I thought had some cool historical world-building in it, but after finding out about OSC's beliefs, it made it really hard for me to continue reading his work. I used to be Mormon growing up, but obviously Mormon honphobia and sexism (among other things) left me unsettled, and I left the church. So yeah, pretty hard for me to forgive someone in that situation.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

It can be hard to break away from a culture you've grown up in. I used to be in a homophobic church/family as well, and really believed what they were saying. I just didn't think about it, because kids tend to accept what their parents say unquestioningly. Of course, unlike OSC I got over that stuff when I was in middle school. And my internalized homophobia ended up hurting me more than anyone else :'DD

Deo101 [Millennium]

I was also someone who was raised in... unsavory ways. I did definitely hurt some people before I started to see how wrong I was, and I dont expect the people i hurt to ever forgive me. But, I have grown and I want to be better. So, I don't try to assume people can never grow, but it's sad when it does seem like they have no interest in it and it's been pointed out to them many times.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Church is weird, guys. Even though I'm not religious now, when I go back I almost want to believe. Holy spaces and big groups hijack our psychology and it can be hard to break free if you're immersed enough in the culture or have a lot to lose.

Deo101 [Millennium]

it's an interesting kind of peer pressure.

I don't know though, I don't like to fault people for having beliefs and i dont think it will inherently make them a bad person.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Yeah, I remember telling this kid in middle school that I didn't think gay marriage should be legal. Then in high school I found out he was gay. So that sucks. But he's more successful than me now, so I guess he won in the end

Deo101 [Millennium]

I think there are some institutionalized issues with churches at large, but it's not inherent that someone who is religious will be bigoted so I don't like to lump religion and bigotry together

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Not everything about you can be blamed on your surroundings though. With the internet as it is anyone can change if they want to.

Agree with that thing about religion and bigotry, I know lovely religious people and churches. I just associate the two because of my own experiences

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

To clarify, I don't think that being religious or being Mormon makes you a bad person. I have met many people, religious or not that are good. And I have also met many people who are reprehensible irrespective of religion or secularism. Your religion does not define you as a person. There is more to you than what is written in religious texts or talked about on holy days. I know a woman who is bisexual AND a member of the Mormon church, and she is constantly fighting bigotry and trying to find acceptance, but being Mormon is only a small part of the bigger picture. So I don't like OSC because he is a bigot. Not because he is Mormon. Anyway, we're getting a bit off-topic, guys

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

On the other end of this I feel like I need to keep my own political views and all kinds of personal baggage hidden in case of readers being turned off because they disagree with me on something

I try to keep the stuff I say “on brand” with the political messages of the work

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I said my comic is a reflection of myself, but it's also a very edited and thought out and proofread version of myself. If all my readers read my forum posts or random crap I say on discord, would they find me obnoxious?

I especially feel this when I'm trying to promote my comic

so I don't really do that anymore...

DanitheCarutor

@sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD) Hahah yeah, that's another one of the reasons why I prefer to keep to myself. I've never had a good personality, and I have a lot of shit going on in my life, I don't want to ruin a good thing by being open with readers. (at least no more than what I've already done in my time on the internet.) Also people on the internet are super judgey, make the slightest mistake or have an opinion that the right person doesn't agree with, and your ass can get slaughtered!

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

More on topic: Yeah, I generally do keep my opinions about hot-button topics to myself in my online life. I don’t discuss politics or religion or my strong opinions on very controversial issues. Part of it is those issues tend to attract trolls. Part of it is that I hate confrontation. Part of it is making the experience of reading my comic as pleasant as possible for readers by not turning my site or my social media accounts into battlegrounds. I have very obvious views about tolerance and acceptance that isn’t hard to parse by reading my comics. My characters themselves can be very opinionated, but under pages where they express harsher, more close-minded views, I put disclaimers underneath that say my characters don’t always express my own beliefs because they are written to be complicated, flawed people who sometimes have intolerant opinions. This recent page of Ashes was probably a good example: (https://www.flowerlarkstudios.com/comic/chapter-9-a-twisted-reflection/page-09-04/). While I write the messages I believe in, my characters don’t always behave in a way I condone, because my comics acknowledge how messy people are.(edited)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

My comic is going to have a strong message on imperialism and nationalism

DanitheCarutor

@Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios) Man, about having character you don't agree with, I've been feeling that so much! Since the first chapter! I don't agree with how any of my characters are handling the situations in their lives, but they're supposed to be people, with flaws and all that junk. Although in the end the story is supposed to kinda be about learning healthy ways to cope with stuff, and learning to love yourself... or at least tolerate yourself. So I gueeeess the characters have to suck at life first in order to get better at it later. :/ I admit to sometimes taking an open, more lighthearted, jab at religion but usually with other like-minded people. Also I just love talking about the christian cult church my mom grew up it and I partially grew up in as an "outsider", it's so fascinating and so very much a legit cult.

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

I'm definitely more likely to jump into a comic if it's being written by someone I like vs someone I know nothing about (or worse, someone I dislike). Like I'll often see a commenter on my comic and go "huh, you seem like a cool person, I should check out your comic". Sometimes it's not my cup of tea, but usually it works out well (: . Given that I usually encounter new comics through forums & chats and stuff... It's honestly kind of hard not to get at least some impression of a creator before reading a comic? Unless it's a comic from #ctp_bookclub written by a creator who's never been on the server. It's odd... in the webcomic space at least, I don't think I've ever encountered "love the work, hate the creator". Like if there's some creator who's loudly proclaiming something I really disagree with, more often than not their comic is an obvious mouthpiece for the position they take in public. Though I generally try not to click on comics of people I dislike unless I get overcome with morbid curiosity. I'm not sure I'd say my comic matches with who I am publicly, but it matches with who I want to be? Like my comic has a lot of themes of learning to know thyself, figuring out how to handle your emotions, and most relevantly to me learning to have a positive image of yourself.

renieplayerone

I think im absolutely more likely to at least once over someone's comic if I know them in real life, even if its not necessarily a genre im into, but this mostly applies to closer friends. On the internet, however, i am absolutely more likely to read the works of people i follow simply because i get the update reminders. I also am more likely to read comics i see the update notifications for on twitter or instagram in general. Fanart i try to limit to people i know and who at least cursorily know me, just because for me i find fanart a personal thing if it comes from me (although all fanart i receive is welcome and makes me cry haha)

Shadowmark Productions

When a person is growing up there are certain impressions made upon them in terms of beliefs and opinions. When these attitudes are impressed upon you before you can speak, these are called pre-linguistic beliefs and they’re extremely, extremely difficult to shake. The reason being that they are instilled in you before you can reason. Speech is the ability to reason. They are beliefs that stem from a place that is intuitive and instinctual rather that logical. That’s why when you question bigots and such most tend to speak in terms of feelings, or they talk about right and wrong but with no logical argument to buttress those opinions.

keii4ii

My tastes are so narrow and specific, that I can't make myself read someone's comic just because I like them as a person/friend. I also feel uncomfortable about the other way around: I would not want someone to read my comic just because they like me. (Checking it out is one thing; making themselves read it even after they go 'oh, this isn't my bag of tea' is a different story...!) The thought of someone reading my comic as a personal favor despite not really enjoying it... Even if they're not expecting anything in return (they often do, but not always), it honestly makes my soul shrivel. Of course, if they like both me AND my comic, then that's awesome! I did have one experience where I came to appreciate someone's works on a new level, after coming to know them IRL. I always liked their stuff a lot. It's just there were some Things about their work that I couldn't personally connect to. But after seeing them in person, seeing how passionate they were 24/7 (my other artist friends met them too, and they all agreed this person's passion was on a new level), it helped me see what those Things meant to them, why and how those Things excited them. I came to develop a deep respect for this creator, as well as an acquired taste for those Things that I previously was not into.(edited)

DanitheCarutor

@keii4ii Even though your reasoning is different, it's nice to know I'm not the only one who detaches the creator from their work. Also I didn't think about the whole reading something just because you like the person, yeah, that is really uncomfortable! 100% I would rather someone just read my comic because they like the comic, not force themselves to check it out just because they think I'm a nice person... especially since my comic can be such a hard read for some people.

meek

Definitely knowing the creator or knowing about a creator influences how I perceive their webcomic and how much I read it, talk about it, engage with it, etc. I have several friends who make comics and I put their comics at the top of my priority list to read, and being so busy all of the time, my friends' works comprise most of what I read. And then from there it goes from whoever I remembered or whoever I liked or what kind of comic I'm feeling at the moment or so on. I do think, reading through some of the other comments (and sorry in advance for being discourse-y/that guy), but there's a vagueness I can't quite get behind when it comes to "separate the art from the artist." There's definitely levels and nuances where the creator's personality or behavior outside their work cannot be ignored and with art being so personal, I don't see how you could ever 100% separate a creator from their work because they put themselves in every word they type, every line they draw. But like I said, there are levels. If I find a creator mildly unpleasant or annoying but not truly malicious or offensive (e.g. being generally abrasive or rude), then I'll roll my eyes and probably leave their comic to read for another day. But if it gets more than that, then I don't want to support them in any way with my views. Like, if I know someone has bullied before/still bullies people in the present, I can't ignore that because their comic is cute. Knowing a person's character really flavors any interactions, direct or indirect, for me and it's something where I can't look past that, especially if it's an ongoing recurring thing.

but uhh to answer the question more directly: I like knowing webcomic creators. I find it easier to get more invested in a story if you can see behind the scenes, see them talk about their characters, their influences, see them have fun and the love that they have for their work. Even if it's just a very shallow, one-sided, "I'm just following their twitter"- I think it's good to know creators a little bit. But knowing them Too Much can also negatively impact my opinion of them and their work, so I dunno.

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #reader favorites

[lore-a-lie]

Chapter 2, Act 2: Lessons of the Gymnopedia

Daily Life

Kaede found them all outside, which Monosuke wasn’t pleased about at all. Despite his earlier implications he was going to make this process as difficult as he could the Ninja Scroll still found its place in what was either the masked ninja’s mask or mouth.

Gonta looked rather guilty upon seeing Kaede, but before she could find out why she was being pulled along by Tenko who was eager to show off her own lab that had recently sprung from the scenery.

It was a welcome relief to see some traditional architecture that wasn’t at all related to Kiyo’s lab. Not that Kaede wasn’t still trying to get her memories of it out of her head.

Or that the kitsune mask the ninja statue wore was an unwelcome reminder of the one of a similar style Kiyo had in one of his cases near a cutesy mask he claimed had some connection to a brutal serial killer who targeted murderers. Nope, definitely not still traumatized by that extended lesson.

Not to say the Ultimate Aikido Master’s lab wasn’t still weird, between the large wooden fighting doll in the back and the odd hanging platforms. Kaede assumed this was related to Tenko’s spin on the art as opposed to being needed for the actual fighting style. (Which fits what was said about these all being made for us rather than our talents. Only Tenko and her Master know what Neo-Aikido even is.)

“Look Kaede, isn’t this awesome?! I could give you some lessons here later if you’d like, you may need them given the type of menaces you keep wasting your precious time on. Actually, that’s a great idea, I should give all the girls here some lessons for self-defense, thanks Kaede!” (... But I didn’t say anything?)

“Maybe another time, things with the fourth floor left me rather… Uh, drained? But thank you for the offer, it could be pretty useful. I’m not sure you should be limiting it to just the girls again though.”

Tenko got that look on her face like she was impersonating an insulted dead fish. “... Fine. Kaito maybe. Kibo probably, even if his flexibility is awful  and his weight could make things awkward. And while Gonta doesn’t need it he might still be fun to teach. But that’s it! It doesn’t matter how small and punchable he is, Kokichi is off the table! Kiyo too, because I don’t ever want to be in a room alone with that guy. Gives me some bad vibes.” (That’s fair.)

“Then what’s wrong with Ryoma? He’s been a pretty nice guy, and it might be easier for you to train him, Kaito, and Maki at once since I think they already do something similar together sometimes.”

“... I’m… Not sure I’d really want to teach Maki this either… But Ryoma’s a killer too! Why would I want to teach him any of my precious Neo-Aikido?! And even if I did how would I even demonstrate for a person that size? That’d be too much hassle for me, and like Gonta and Maki he doesn’t really need my help.”

There was little point in arguing against that, and Angie came bouncing in anyway to see what was going on putting a halt to that conversation. Monophanie was waddling along after her, like a duckling following its mother, as Kaede focused back on why she came.

“Hey, hey~ What’re you two doing in here huh? Has Kaede taken an interest in joining Atua’s efforts?”

“Efforts? I mean I came by since we found a Flashback Light in the computer room that opened up with the new labs. Also, yours is one of the two that opened Angie! It's just down the hall from Kiyo’s, so location aside I hope you’ll enjoy it. We just thought it might be good to regroup in the dining hall if you’re all done exploring too, to trade notes and see what we’ll do about the light. If that’s okay with everyone?”

Angie’s disposition shifted again, as if taking things more seriously for the moment to think, before going back to her bubbly bouncy persona. “Hmm, That will probably be for the best, for now, we are just about done here. It will be good to establish some new rules too. Kibo, Kirumi, and Tsumugi are likely already on their way there anyway, since they had nothing else to do around here since only Tenko’s lab appeared. So let’s all get going, C'mon, C'mon!” (New rules? For the killing game, like Monodam gave?)

When Kaede got there with Angie and Tenko everyone else was back and ready to talk about their discoveries. General information about all of the labs was shared, and Angie for her credit wasn’t the least bit disturbed by her new floormate or the descriptions of the area around her lab.

Gonta looks like he wanted to talk about something, likely the reason for the guilty expression from before, but the looks from Angie and her cultists was enough to convince him to keep quiet. So things moved onto the discussion of rules, and the tiebreaker scenario Monodam explained. But he wasn’t the only cub trying to endear themselves to the students they clung to in their efforts to solve their fighting.

Monophanie had indeed told Kirumi about another rule of the killing game that had yet to be touched on, regarding body discoveries. Even if the class strongly suspected a missing student was killed, until the requirement regarding students finding and bearing witness to the corpse was met everything would continue to act as if they weren’t dead.

Kibo apparently also pushed the issue and had her concede that even if everyone knew where a body was, without witnesses beyond the killer to “prove” someone was dead the game would continue to proceed as if they were still alive, like a twisted Schrodinger’s cat.

As there weren’t any rules about hiding or destroying bodies the implications of this rule were very concerning. Particularly since the killer themselves would never count as a witness to help get a case started in the first place. (No one knew what happened to the bodies of our other friends either really.)

But it was time to decide on what to do with the Flashback Light. Angie was against it, so Tenko, Kibo, and Gonta followed her lead, but Kirumi and Tsumugi’s curiosity won out to avoid a stalemate. There were too many mysteries that outweighed any risks using it could cause.

The Ultimate Hunt, the purpose of the Killing Game, why they hadn’t been found yet, even where this place was right now were dangerous unknowns that needed to be solved. (If they aren’t how are we supposed to ever get out and go home? Will we all even have homes to get back to? Can the lights return that hope to us those motives took?)

Despite Angie’s warnings to give up hope on leaving this place Kaede flicked the switch and the world around her warped once more. But not to one that made any sense.

Everyone had their own memorial photos, just like those that appear during the trials but with more color to them. This had to be a funeral ceremony, but for all 16 of them at once. People could be heard talking about an accident the occurred while Kaede and her classmates were all trying to escape from some group, but she didn’t know them or understood what this was meant to mean.

All this did was leave them with more questions. The way everyone spoke indicated they all shared this same “memory”, despite none of them being present for it. (Why even call it a Flashback Light if it isn’t tied to our specific memories? What are we supposed to do with this information? Or at all at this point.)

Monodam and Monophanie looked between themselves and the arguing students, as theories ranging from everyone being dead in some sort of purgatory high school or the memories being taken out of context like merely being part of a school play. Nothing was matching up, and every idea tossed around was soon shown to have more holes in it than swiss cheese when the group considered it.

Only Monosuke was enjoying the discord sewn by the newest batch of worthless memories, much like his father did, while his siblings had a nervous energy about them as they began planning something.

When it was agreed that nothing about the memories made sense the group decided to take a break to cool down and clear their heads best they could. Angie was oddly silent during the discussion but upon the dismissal, she made a beeline for assumably her lab, arms spread out to the side like an angled airplane.

Kaede instead resumed her silly self-given goal of finding all the Monokuma dolls she could. It was nice having a goal like that to reach, like a scavenger hunt, since after the first trial she already saw a bear that wasn’t there the day before. (And definitely has nothing to do with getting teddy bears to express any frustrations felt towards the monster they are based on. Or finding them cute on their own merits.)

It was a pleasant surprise to find one of these dancing dolls in her own lab, the pink winged figure making overblown leaps in front of her piano. And also rather creepy as she had no way of knowing if this doll was placed here because Monokuma (or his cubs) noticed her morbid little collection, but she tried to ignore those implications as she stashed the toy inside her bag and continued her search outside the school.

Until she overheard a conversation being held near the Shrine of Judgement, past her newest fluffy acquisition found on the stairs leading to it. Her curiosity quickly got the better of her as she tried to slip inside to better listen in on what her fellow students were talking about.

Downsides of having hearing as good as mine I guess, it’s easy to unintentionally listen in on others which I know is kinda rude. Also an upside for when it helps me learn of any fun gossipy stuff I’d be too out of touch to catch otherwise~

“My condolences Ryoma, I know all too well the pain that comes with such a loss.”

“Thanks. I wasn’t really expecting you to understand either. Just because of how…”

“I’m too unsettling for someone to care for in such a way? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that.” (“Care for in such a way”? What is Kiyo talking about? Is this about their motive videos again?)

“No. How young we all are. It’s weird enough to really get a serious girlfriend this early in life, much less lose them so soon.”

Wait, what, they're talking about girls? THESE two guys of all people had girlfriends already?! I’ve never even been on a date yet! … At least I don’t think I’ve ever been on one. I’ve hung out with guys before I guess, did that count? But what do they mean by “losing them”? They can’t mean...

“Polite of you to say so, but I think your lie is obvious. I suppose in a sense we’ve both been lucky, yes?”

“Strange sort of luck that would need to be. She’d still be alive and content back in America had she never met me.” (Oh… Ouch. Wonder what he means by that, was there an accident? How’d he even meet an American girl? Was she like... normal height or also tiny like him? How different was he before?)

“Do you think she would have been happier had that been case? Every meeting is a once in a lifetime interaction, life is but a series of chance encounters and farewells. Hardly a reason to blame yourself for embracing a golden opportunity. Sorrowful as a leaving may be it changes not the beauty that came before it. There can be a beauty to be found in even the darkest of times if one tries to look.”

“... You might be the most messed up type of optimist I’ve ever heard of, you know that?”

“Kehehe, is that so? An optimist am I, that’s how you chose to see me?”

“Sounds a lot better than calling you a masochist, trying to find anything good out of pain.”

“So better to sound civil than risk calling a spade a spade I take it? How considerate of you.”

“Okay, when you get like this you really can’t blame a guy for being confused why a girl would like you.”

The bluntness of the response only led to more of Kiyo’s laughter, at the indirect admittance of his earlier assessment. “I suppose that will remain my little secret then.”

“Seriously? Nothing? Not a single clue after you got me sharing? Not cool man.” (But Ryoma's still smiling~)

“Just because you answered my questions doesn’t mean you’re entitled to me responding to your own. It’s terribly uncouth for one to “kiss and tell”, wouldn’t you say?”

“Or you just made her up to get me to talk, you seem like the sort of guy who’d do that.” Ryoma’s words were said in a joking tone to Kaede, still hiding nearby, but Kiyo was insulted by the notion regardless.

“Then that is where you’d be completely wrong, even for the purpose of study to lie about such a thing is a line I wouldn’t choose to cross. Far too serious a matter to abuse it in such a way, which is precisely why matters of the heart are not meant to be merely spoken of with others in the first place.” (The big twist here is that Kiyo has been a romantic this whole time? Whaaat? That’s one I didn’t see coming.)

“I dunno, sounds like something a stalker might say.” Ryoma snarked with a smirk. But Kiyo was adjusting better to his sense of humor as he played along with the lighthearted jab better this time.

“I assure you while there may have been allegations and restraining orders in my past they are all completely unrelated to the topic at hand. Those were merely results of miscommunication in regards to my appearance and... tendency to perhaps overindulge in the art of “people watching” outside of fieldwork.” (Ah, okay, thank goodness something here makes sense. Everything is still right with the world.)

Kiyo took the moment to pause for Ryoma’s laughter, which was a rare occurrence to hear his deep chuckle. “Honestly Ryoma, I’m rather hurt you’d accuse me of stalking when Kaede has been spying on our conversation since she caught wind of the word “condolences”. Tell me, has your curiosity been sated yet, or will it take a bit longer for satisfaction to bring this particular cat back?” (WAIT WHAT?! Oh shit, how’d he notice?! And what is he talking about? If you’re going to mess with me make sense first!)

The candy cig actually fell out of his mouth when Ryoma turned around to see Kaede awkwardly squatting behind one of the stone flower pots, blushing hard enough to nearly match their roses now that her cover was completely blown.

After the shock, he displayed his expression went to one used by so many parents before him. He wasn’t mad at her, just disappointed. Unlike Kiyo who hid any possible annoyance felt rather well. His obvious enjoyment caused by pulling the rug out from under her, not so much.

“I, uhh… Sorry! It was originally an accident honest! I’ve always had excellent hearing, but…”

“But you just couldn’t resist some good ol’ teen drama bullshit, could you?” Ryoma asked, rubbing at his forehead as Kaede bashfully nodded.

“I didn’t mean to, I just thought it was unusual to see the two of you hanging out, I’m so sorry.”

“There is truth to this, our conversation began only due to Kokichi’s most recent set of antics. He still hasn’t settled on what role of a jester he should be playing since his more malevolent persona fell apart. He supposedly wasn’t lying about his intent to make an event in protest to Tenko’s poolside shenanigans, as he requested Kaito, Ryoma, and I to join him at the Casino later tonight. Given Kaito’s personality, I am inclined to believe Maki may be in attendance as well, given she wasn’t a part of Tenko’s group before from what I gather. Would you care to join us?” (I’ll just not mention I was a part of Tenko’s party then.)

“Sure, I guess? I haven’t really been there much since it didn’t look like many of the games were working yet but it might be fun to be there with a group. But what about Gonta and Kibo?”

“When we asked before he said “no traitors allowed”, since Gonta ended up joining Angie and Kibo was at the girl’s thing before, so he’s just being a brat again. Probably anyway. Who even knows with this guy?”

“Well that’s good for youse guys but all this bullshit’s gonna hafta wait a bit. We have ourselves another nice little present for you bastards out in the gym, and you don’t want us and our Exisals to cause any trouble you better get down there ASAP. No delays, no excuses, vah menos!”

And as suddenly as Monosuke appeared to give the three those orders he was gone, toddling off in the direction of the school. But with little room or reason to object they swiftly followed him, joining everyone else waiting for the monokub’s newest motive. (Why do this if most want to end the game?)

The crowd in the gym again had itself become neatly divided with Angie’s group near the left wall while Kaito, Kokichi, and Maki waited for Kaede and the others along the right-hand side. Too bad Angie and Kaito were arguing again closer to the middle, likely encouraging keeping everyone divided this way, while Monophanie and Monodam kept turning to look at whoever was speaking as if they were watching a particularly intense game of tennis. Well, Monophanie turned, Monodam’s head swiveled.

“Atua says there is no place for murderers in a peaceful academy life like we should strive to have. Ryoma and Maki have too many ties to the horrors of death to simply roam unchecked.”

“And I say that's a load of crap and you know it! What you have us do, lock them up over something they ain’t fuckin’ gonna do in the first goddamn place?! Ryoma already paid for his crimes, and you can’t just going around judging either of them like this!” Kaito shouted, while Kirumi tried to argue for this idea.

“This could be as much as a help to their safety as it is for the rest of us, as if they are supervised then no one else would have the opportunity to attack them out of a misplaced sense of paranoia.”

“Speaking for yourself there?" Kokichi chimed in, to Kirumi's obvious displeasure. "Would you also be one of the people that would be “supervised” after your own little stunt against Ryoma? I’d be more than happy to keep an eye on my mom if you want me to~”

“Of course not, she’s also a member of the student council! She may have lost her temper before but she’s better now, and she’s in agreement with the rest of us so she’s not a danger to anyone at all.” Tenko argued, not that Kokichi was buying anything as he gave her and Kirumi skeptical but nonplussed looks.

“Hey, everyone let’s settle down. What are you talk-” Kaede tried to ask, before the Monosuke decided to take control of the situation instead.

“Listen up ya chumps, let’s get right down to business! ‘Cuz we’ve got anotha great motive for you all.”

“It won’t matter, nothing you can do will make us participate in your killing game anymore. We have Atua to help guide us now.” (Good god Kibo you really have been drinking the kool-aid haven’t you?)

“You-Misunderstand, That-Is-Not-What-This-Motive-Is-For!”

“What are you talking about? A scary motive like this was left behind by Daddy, so of course it can be used to help with the killing game if Monosuke wants it to.”

“That’s-Not-Why-I-Agreed-To-It. This-Is-A-Motive-That-Can-Bring-Everyone-Closer-Together! Because-It- Can-Return-A-Friend-The-Game-Took-Away-From-Us-All-Before.”

“Us all”? Not “You all”? I thought he and Monophanie only started hanging out with us because they were fighting with Monosuke. Is he really trying to “be friends” with us now because of the problems with him and his siblings? Why do that?

“Can it, ya tin can! That isn’t how this’ll work you hear me?! So listen up you fucks and listen good! This here motive is no mere book ya’know. It’ll be the most terrifying shit you’ve ever seen. Because what we got right here is the groundwork to get you all a new “transfer student”... Of a sort. Right Monophanie?” Monosuke began to explain with a snicker as he passed the duty to his sister like a twisted set of show announcers.

“Of course Monosuke! Because the place they’ll be “transferring” from is Beyond The Grave ~ Isn’t that just the most fear-inducing thing you’ve ever heard?! You’ll be able to resurrect one of the four people who have died in this killing game back to life, to welcome them back into the class.”

“Correct! But-This-Will-Only-Work-On-One-Of-The-Four. We’re-Sorry. You-Will-Understand-Why-When- You-Read- How-It-Works-In-The-Necronomicon-We-Will-Provide-For-You. But-” Monodam tried to add, wanting to be a part of this two as his siblings made no attempt to include him, but he was quickly shot down.

“But nothin’! And no “sorries” neither, this is a fuckin’ gift to you all, so you bastards better be grateful. So you gotta choose carefully you schmucks, ‘cuz you only have this one chance. And who even knows what your student of choice will be like. Same as they were before, like nothin’ happened to ‘em in the first place? Gross ass zombies still fucked up from how they died? Somethin’ in between? Or maybe they’ll be like someone completely new, who fuckin’ knows?! Won’t that be a blast to find out, huh?”

What?

This can’t be real.

They can’t be serious.

This can’t be happening.

Could I really talk to Shuichi again?

Everyone else seemed to be having similar thoughts as the Monokubs derailed themselves yet again, Monophanie objecting over how she was never told how “icky” the transfer student could be. So the fact they genuinely don’t know what will come of this appeared to be honest at the very least, and if not this being the first she’s heard of it does incline one to think the student will be returned to the class hale and whole. (Even if that may just be wishful thinking on my part. But this doesn’t sound like something a resurrection manual would just leave out, unless the cubs didn’t even bother reading all of it.)

“There’s no way bringing back the dead could really be possible… Right?” Tsumugi quietly asked.

“R-Right, ‘course it isn’t! They’re just being stupid to rile us up, no way in hell it’s possible!”

Kaito insisted, much to Tenko’s displeasure.

“Hey! Aren’t you the degenerate who likes to claim the “impossible is possible”? Why are you changing your tune now, huh?! This could bring Himiko back, you coward!”

To that, Kiyo was the first to make his objection. “Now I may be one inclined to doubt a skepticism born from the hubris that often comes with a purely scientific background but I must concur with Kaito. While many cultures around the globe may have indeed made their own twists on rituals made to grant safe passage for a soul from one life onto the next to one instead meant to bring a person back from whatever “afterlife” they believe in, none have ever truly succeeded in such a lofty goal. And if merely communicating with someone who has been lost to us is what would be desired from using their suspect methods, we already had the means of contacting any departed spirit in my own lab which would be a more trustworthy alternative.”

“Uhh, wait a sec, aren’t you contradicting yourself there? And I’m not sure “trustworthy” would be the word you’re looking for.” (Like you can be one to talk Kokichi. Stupid jerk. Both of you.)

“Not at all, a spirit needs a vessel to best communicate, and no ritual exists that can bring back the flesh of the departed in such a way to sustain it to a point one could call it “life”. A soul might be given a temporary medium or even “haunt” a particular person or object so they can continue to interact with this world, and that could be seen as returning from the great beyond to some extent, but never in a way that leaves any of the parties involved properly satisfied. Nothing like what is being suggested-”

But thankfully before Kiyo could get more into his rant Maki cut him off.

“Then that’s fine, no need to go into it more than that. If even the closest thing we could have to an occultist specialist doesn’t believe it could be possible then the idiot must be right for once. No more need for discussion. We don’t need to go around needlessly humoring dangerous motives anymore-”

“Is it only natural for one so quick to end the lives of others be as quick to rule out bringing them back?”

Maki’s glare was enough to nearly chill the room, already feeling cooler than it should as the subject was giving everyone goosebumps, but Kirumi took her anger head on while barely batting a lash.

“Atua agrees with Tenko and Kiyo. It wouldn’t really be so strange for this to be possible in an Eden such as this.” And with that said Angie’s people were all ears, which helped to keep the tensions between the assassin and maid from escalating any further. “Nyahaha! Come now, everything in this new world of ours is odd enough isn’t it? How can we even really know the ones we believe are “dead” really are? Their bodies get taken from us so quickly, “crime scenes” cleaned up so thoroughly as if nothing had happened, and even “executions” so over the top that it just couldn’t be possible, right?  So far past any suspension of disbelief that all of this must surely be impossible, shouldn’t it?" She asked, but they felt more like rhetorical questions than anything else.

At the silence of the others considering her words gave her to the opportunity, she continued. "Atua surely thinks so. For Atua knows our dead can be “returned” to us even if “resurrection” is indeed impossible. Because no one is really dead here. They never were.” (But that’s not possible! We checked the bodies. Not me specifically, but Shuichi, Korekiyo, and Maki would have all surely noticed this! ... Right?)

“Do you honestly believe a mere imitation could capture the sensation of a warm body growing cold? Surely you jest. And even if my own assessment of Himiko’s condition was admittedly amateurish then Maki would have easily caught such a massive discrepancy with a background such as her own, yes?” Korekiyo retorted, echoing Kaede’s own thoughts. But something about what he said made Kokichi stare blankly at him for a moment, before recovering enough to return to his cheshire cat grin. Had it been any faster Kaede isn’t sure she would have even noticed the brief change, or catch the colder look in his eyes.

“We can’t prove they aren’t at any rate, look at the levels of technology the existence of Monokuma, the Monokubs, and the Exisals shows this place has access to. Even if the murder victims were real then a means of saving them before the point of no return may have indeed been possible, and they are the only bodies Maki has ever been close enough to check.”

But even if we didn’t see Miu’s body, we saw Shuichi’s. He was shot- er stabbed?- through the head. He was moving before the blow landed, we never lost sight of him in that horrible room, and there couldn’t be any way to recover from a brain injury like that if nothing else right? T-that had to be real. No matter how much we wished it wasn’t. Or how often.

“But wasn’t the basis of wanting Angie to lead in order to avoid doing what the game wanted by using the motives Monokuma and his cubs gave us like I encouraged before? Is it really okay for you to change tunes like this because this one would be more convenient for all of us if it’s true? I… I want you to be right Angie. Honest, I do. It’d be great if everyone was still alive safe somewhere else, away from here. But we’ve been burned before, and I don’t want a repeat of that. Please let’s just think things through.”

Kaede’s point did raise some debate. This had turned Angie’s initial point on its head, but the bond of the cult, their “faith” in her and by extension Atua, was strong enough to ignore the hypocrisy at play.

“It doesn’t matter in end, student council still able to protect everyone! And Angie our good president. And she says motive to save student won’t be used to hurt anyone. If book says rescuing not-really-dead friends mean other friends need to be hurt to work then we won’t listen to book, promise. No worries!” Gonta claimed with a comforting smile and absolute confidence.

“So that’s what this is Gonta? A “Student Council” to end the killing game?” Kaede asked.

“Yup! So Kaede no worry no more. No more killings happen, that why Gonta and Tenko here! We enforce rules Atua makes so people no get hurt or hurt each other again. No more disagreements.”

“So you think that gives you the right to just set this up under everyone’s noses? Like we’d ever agree to this. All this will lead to is either more disagreements or Angie trying to set herself up as a tyrant Gonta.”

Ryoma spoke up with a level head, and Gonta looked taken aback by this. But it was likely a good thing Ryoma said something first as Kokichi looked nearly seething at what was going on. Not intentionally either, as Keade saw him try to fall back onto his smiling mask from the corner of her eye, trying to keep herself from drawing attention to him.

No one else noticed it, as he was near the back of the crowd while Kiyo took to rambling on about the nature of cults and the reasons why they form in places like this, giving him time to re-adjust. And when he did he cheerily went along with Kiyo’s rant in order to highlight the means of Angie’s manipulations. Even though he should know they wouldn’t listen.

So I was right. He’s not okay with this either, hell he’s even more bothered by how Angie’s doing this than I honestly am. This just means we have to find another way of bringing us all back together.

“Please everyone, let’s just calm down-”

“Indeed, no need for anyone to worry at all! The student council will take care of the resurrection ritual so no one else has to worry about anything. Atua will decide what we will do with it at a later time.”

And with that Angie gladly took the book from Monosuke’s eager paws and tightly held it to her chest as she began skipping away from the conversation. It’s not like there would have been reasoning with her anyway.

Kaito looked nearly as sick as Kaede felt over things ending on a note like that but there was nothing else that could be done so everyone began to disperse. Kaede took another look around the campus for monokuma dolls to try and lose the ache in her chest before trying to go to the Casino.

She had found another before nighttime began, but it came with its own unwelcome discovery. The little bear was just sitting in the boiler room that led to their best possible exit, but it wasn’t like before.

The manhole cover was put snugly back into place and covered in large rocks so no one could try to attempt to remove it again. It was all too heavy for this to be a mistake, but at the same time, it hadn’t been moved before Himiko… Before the second trial was held. So while it could be a Monokub’s doing with their Exisals that may not be the case.

Was this why Gonta looked guilty before? Was this Angie’s plan? Why can’t she understand staying isn’t an option?! Rantaro died to prove this fact to us already! If he hadn’t we all would have. Except for the mastermind and maybe anyone else who might not have been “forced” to play this killing game.

At least she’ll be able to bring this up to Kokichi or Kaito after the get-together. Even if she told everyone at the Casino what happened it’s unlikely any of them would be able to lift the manhole cover to fix it.

No need to ruin Kokichi’s bit of harmless fun, everyone needs as much levity in this awful place as they can get. It’s what will keep everyone together, and in the process make bonds to help protect them. (Even if that sort of planning hasn’t really worked for us yet. It’s the best idea I can come up with here.)

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#New Danganronpa V3 #ndrv3 #ndrv3 spoilers #drv3 #drv3 spoilers #drv3 fanfiction #fanfic #fix it fic #multi chapter #kaede akamatsu #tenko chabashira #angie yonaga #gonta gokuhara #K1-B0 #tsumugi shirogane #kirumi tojo #kaito momota #maki harukawa #ryoma hoshi #kokichi ouma #korekiyo shinguji #monodam #monosuke #monophanie #back route

[youcancallmemeimei]

hey i wish you are doing well, and thank you so much for your sincere reply ^ㅡ^)/ did you try to make me cry ..?! maybe I'm just a little bit too emo thesedays but wow.. you really do put your emotions into your writings and it just shoots straight to the bottom of my heart like constant thundering and lightening as in a goood way! you must be a natural writer who could write stuff like the actual writers do! meaning your writings are pretty powerful and I could almost feel your breath in it!! Really Impressive.

and about why I didn't want to see a sunlight the other day.. maybe I should tell you some of my personal stuffs so you could better understand of me first but then it will become... like a book literally.. lol so I will try to keep it simple for you, and say I was just bit blue the other day.. ^^ just like everyone gets their time ykno, and thank you so much for the wishes!

and idk why.. but your supermarket example is so on point and makes me smile somehow haha you sound like a very cute and smart person, because you get to learn when you ask things to others and you already know that mechanism so well :) and your cheering words are very touching and bringing positive emotions to me and I much appreciate it for your kindness ^^! and you are right.. I got you! an online buddy :)

and about the hiding things .. and omg haha those LEGO and rocket examples indeed you nailed them again! ^^ and yep you got the good points! and I hope i didn’t confuse you at the same time. Many of these stuffs i was talking about were the things that happened at work because mainly my life is just between home and the work. and as you could imagine some work environment can be very toxical with a lot of politics involved, and because i was in a such role to discuss with other parties that are not my side of the team i had to often times represent my twhole division to discuss and argue with others to defend my team. and It could easily become very muddy, dirty and finger pointing. I’ve got hammered down a few times at work and they became very traumatic for me. i was trying to stay clean and transparent about my stuff so i said thing just as they were, and not giving them what they wanted to hear, and yea. But anyways, i couldn’t agree with you more to ur saying about LEGO (lego in capital letters makes it so much like it lol) and rocket in general. and Thanks for sharing your thoughts!

Do you still hold your own small world inside of you? You know those small worlds where you can nurture your own imaginations, dreams, thought processes, ego, self esteem and all that?

winters have come to me about few years ago, and started to shadow over my life a little bit. and I had to make some mess inside of that small world. Funny thing is.. sometimes u get to hate what you used love especially when things go bad around u. it's really irony but that's how strong the perspective plays its role in our life I think. I used to love and care for my small world and built the strong wall around it, but for some reason it became like a very dark gotham city haha not that I'm a batman who tries to save it but more like one of those villains that lives in gotham city who's full of hatred LOL. yeah it sounds bit too stretchy, and yea probably i'm just stretching it to just make it sound funny..^^* LOL. just, there has been some undisclosed paradox in my life which i interpreted things wrongly and things went bad, and i no longer can fully trust my own thoughts or ideas. i'll keep that a short like that because it's not gonna be a good story anyways and i think i already said many bluesy things up there lol. ^^; excuse me for writing such stuff, i’m also slightly venting in here,

Anyways, thanks for the kind and warm words and emotions. And yes i should be happy on my own. And i wish thay they come sooner than later as well, because i’m really barely hanging on in this life haha, desperately need to find some way to gain back those self trusts lol.. well i will just silently wait until then because when i ‘try’ things it don’t go so well, but when i let things just flow as they supposed to be sometimes that work more better. idk lol, i still believe god is there for all of us, might shed me some light on me when the season comes.

and YES i do feel very happy that i could write something like unnecessarily wrong wall of texts with poor grammars and not really organized but you still try to understand and guving me your thought about it is really a small miracle to me indeed :) thanks many times.

i wish we had apple watches so we could give nudges each other LOL , but let’s think.. maybe sharing the apple music playlist? Idk. If you wan i can give you my id. or we could be on a same discord channel and be able to hear each other all through out the day? HAHA omg imagine that i forget to turn it off before going to the bathroom, gosh this is the worst idea.... haha i will try to think aboit that as well.. if you get some better thought do let me know too because whatever that is i think could be helpful and fun :) but just way you suggested this in your writing is somehow very touching to me and thanks for letting me feeling that. Back to think of it, i think i miss those feelings.

Hey Good morning! and in case I don't see ya; good afternoon, good evening, and good night! -🐸

Thank you!! I'm not a writer but i do love to write sometimes, but there's no one to read so....

I'm glad I'm making you feel happy, (i hope so haha) and I'm glad you're no longer in that toxic situation, i mean.... Jobs are usually hard but I've heard people say your job should be like "you're being paid to do what you love" and sometimes were privileged enough to do it but sometimes were not, and when you are in a toxic environment where your mental and physical are threatened you should think about it twice before staying there, but also we should try a little more, because we're not always the victims in bad situations, sometimes it's our fault, what I mean is that we should analyze both parties right? Your side and their side, sometimes were taking things too personal, but others times we should be taking them personal. It's all about balance and knowing were yours boundaries are but also knowing your weak points.

Of course I do have my own little world, and I'm happy to keep a couple of things just for myself. Because at the end of the day I'm all i have, and of course there's situations where our small world is troubled but why should we give our energy to something that doesn't deserve it, idk, sometimes we worry about such little things and we feed them and feed them and feed them just but thinking about it,then they start to be bigger than us when they should've just never existed in first place, something's are not worth it, is not even worth it to be thinking about them, and yeah, sometimes we change our mind and the things that we used to love are not pleasant anymore, that's what growing up is about, but that doesn't make you a villain, that makes you a human, you're not wrong for changing your mind.

Sometimes we push so hard so things to go on our way when we're better how we are, have you heard "go with the flow"? That's what we should do, a sudden situation happens? Let it happen, take the best from it, learn from it and keep going, of course God is there for us, we should look for him, and we'll find him!

I think being in a discord chanel together would be nice!!

So I've done it already, here's the link!

You've got an hour hahaha

https://discord.gg/dQ3b9s5

Good morning!!!! Or night? Afternoon? Evening?

[itscooltobefanficy]

Feeling Alive- Part 3

Summary: Dance school!AU (or the Step Up/Pride and Prejudice mash up nobody asked for). Bucky Barnes is forced to take twelve hours of commercial dance classes to pass the year- and that just happens to be your regular weekly dance class.

Introduction

Part 1 (Slow Hands)

Part 2 (Stay)

There Will Come a Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Chapter 4/?: There Will Come a Time

Word count: 3094

You guys. You’re just amazing. So many of you are sticking around and reading and hopefully enjoying and slkfjlaksjdf I’m just blown away. I’m aiming to finish this by the first of August! That’s doable, right? I feel like I should have mentioned this earlier, but if I were tagging this on AO3 it would be ‘SLOW BURN’. Idk how you all feel about that. But @systemfailuresunshine seems to be enjoying the pain ;) Anyway go forth and read my lovelies! (Feel free to drop me messages/asks or whatever)

The familiar, discordant chimes of your alarm shrill in your ears and you fumble for your phone without even opening your eyes.

“Shut up,” You grumble, as the smooth edges slip out of your fingertips for the third time. “Just, ugh, shush.”

Reluctantly, you crack open one eye and finally manage to stab down on the glowing screen. Silence at last. Unfortunately, you know you can’t roll over and go back to sleep: not unless you want to be late for work. You let out another heartfelt groan and force your eyes all the way open.

The screen of your phone is still lit up, showing two message notifications. You frown and swipe them open. One from your mum, asking when she can call- you quickly type out a reply suggesting this afternoon- and one from a number you don’t recognise.

Steve says that if you don’t reply by 12 we’re breaking down the door

Everything suddenly comes rushing back. Instinctively, you drop your phone on the covers and reach for the back of your head, wincing when your fingertips encounter a sizeable lump. Wriggling your shoulders merits the same reaction, and moving your legs sends a twinge through your hips. General conclusion: ouch. Still, not dead.

“Always a positive,” A dry voice rings through your memories, and you almost smile. Then you reach for your phone again.

No need to call in the cavalry, I’m up

Writing it out is kind of a contractual obligation; you hit send, then struggle out from underneath the duvet and drag yourself into the bathroom.

Thankfully, the warmth of the shower spray (unpredictable and wavering as it is) helps soothe your angry muscles, and you dress feeling fairly awake. Then you have to dash out of the bathroom to silence the second alarm that you always set, intended to either jerk you out of a sneaky second snooze, or warn you that you have half an hour before you need to leave the house. To your surprise, another two messages have come through whilst you were turning yourself into a human being. One from mum, confirming your time, and another one from James.

That’s a relief I don’t have the energy to be a battering ram

A slight pulse of warmth seems to flare deep inside your chest. You quickly save his number to your contacts before tapping out a reply.

Y: Who has the energy to do anything this early in the morning?

Which is a good point. You need caffeine. And breakfast. And then you need to get a move on. Your phone buzzes as you click the switch on the kettle.

J: Steve

Even as you read that message, another comes through.

J: He’s a morning person its awful

You can picture that: a small smile curls at the corner of your mouth.

Y: I’m truly sorry for you

The next text doesn’t come through until you’re almost out of the door.

J: Sympathy is appreciated

J: Its like living with a puppy half the time

Again, that warm feeling: but you have somewhere to be.

Y: As someone who lives alone, that actually sounds nice

Y: But I have to get to work

You hesitate, stuck on whether you should type what you really want to say- but before you can decide, James has replied.

J: Have fun

J: Talk to you when I’m out of class

At that tiny handful of words, your heart seems to rise a few inches in your ribcage. You shut the door, still smiling, and stride off to the bus stop.

~~

“You’re looking happy,” Lola comments, the instant you walk through the door. Busted. You sigh and wonder if it’s feasible to keep deflecting questions until the end of the day- but Lola is nothing if not persistent. She’s also one of your best work friends. You raise your hands in defeat and drop into your office chair.

“Don’t get too excited,” You say, in a warning tone, “But, newsflash-” You try to imbue the word with a healthy amount of sarcasm, “-There’s a cute guy who’s started Wednesday classes.”

Lola’s eyes light up. She drops her chin onto her hand and fixes you with a look of keen interest.

“Do tell!”

“Ugh,” You wave her away, laughing, “I only met him last week. And I didn’t even like him then.”

“But you like him now?!” Lola wiggles her eyebrows at you again, and you can’t help but giggle even more.

“Stop! But yes, he’s apparently not as much of a jerk as I thought he was.”

“Wonderful.” Lola’s smug grin is practically taking up all of her face. “So, when’s your first date?”

You gawp at her. “Lola, I met him last week. It’s more that…” You trail off, before making sure your tone is sufficiently casual, “It’s more that he’s texting back.”

Lola nods in sympathy. You’ve both had your fair share of non-starting relationships.

“Still, that’s a good start!” She claps her hands together. “I’ll expect every detail.”

You roll your eyes. “As if I could avoid it.” From behind you, your computer (ancient, slow thing that it is) finally makes the chime that signifies you’ve logged in and you spin your chair to face the screen. You already have four emails from four different professors, all asking after different books. You sigh and drag your mind back into focus. Today, at least, there won’t be time for daydreaming.

~~

That evening, you let yourself back into your flat with your phone still held up to your ear as your mum hangs up. Your conversation had been the usual: the run-down on work, whether you were eating, whether you were being a sufficiently sociable human being. Seeing as you could confidently answer all those questions with yes, it was just a pleasant chat rather than an uncomfortable interrogation. Honestly, it’s worth making an effort with life in general just for that.

You drop your possessions on the ratty bean bag on the corner and head for the fridge. You’re starving: thankfully, you have the last of the soup you made last week stashed away. Just as you’re decanting it from Tupperware to saucepan, your phone buzzes.

J: Good day?

You chew on your bottom lip, fighting yet another smile. This was past the point of ridiculous. Nevertheless, you balance your phone in one hand whilst stirring a wooden spoon with the other.

Y: I’ve had worse

Y: You?

No more than a handful of seconds pass before you get a reply.

J: I’ve had worse

J: Faosedddlks

Before you can even form a confused frown, your screen lights up with an incoming call. From James. You stifle the lurch in your abdomen, before tapping accept and lifting the phone to your cheek. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N!”

“Oh. Steve?” You can feel your eyebrows drawing together. “Isn’t this James’ phone?”

“Yes!” An abrupt yell echoes down the line; it sounds a lot like James.

“Yeah,” Steve says, sounding unconcerned, “Just wanted to let you know that we’re having a film night on Saturday- us, Nat and Sam, maybe a couple of other people, and we were wondering if you wanted to join?”

“Uh,” You stall for a moment, surprised by the offer, then pull yourself together. “Sure, why not? Do I need to bring anything?”

“What? No! No, not unless you want to.”

“OK. Steve, sorry-” You carefully place the spoon on the side and try to turn off the hob one-handed, “-can I put you on loudspeaker? My soup’s just ready-”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. See you on Saturday, Y/N!” There’s a scuffling noise, then the line goes dead. You quickly drop it on the counter and turn your attention to the saucepan.

J: Sorry about that

J: Steve has a loose definition of personal space

You get the text just as you sit down to eat.

Y: No worries

Y: I have a few friends like that

Lola, for one. Wanda, for another. Clint, come to think of it, for a third. Then a question occurs to you, and you type out a new message.

Y: What time is it on Sat?

The reply is nearly instantaneous.

J: Steve says 7

You ignore the twisting excitement already building in your stomach.

Y: I’ll be there

~~

It’s Saturday evening, and you’re stood on the pavement two streets along from your flat staring up at an imposing red-brick building. The Academy is situated in the rows of old, classy town-houses tucked behind ornate railings at the end of Blackhill Road. Craning your neck, you can see warm yellow light spilling from a window on the second-storey. The faint sound of piano music is just audible.

The door at the top of the steps swings open.

“Hey, Y/N!” Nat smiles at you. She’s dressed in leggings and an oversized sweater with the word Boss printed in capital letters on the front. “Come in!”

You climb up to join her. The door closes behind you and you take in what must be the reception. There’s a shiny wooden desk in the corner, a handful of chairs against one wall, and framed photographs of dancers caught in graceful motion are everywhere you look. Nat, evidently inured to the sight, pays no attention to your gawping and marches to a discreet door tucked in the corner, marked ‘Private’.

“You coming?”

Blinking, you shake yourself out of your reverie and follow her into a narrow passage.

“Used to be the servants’ stairs. Watch your step, they’re pretty steep.”

The only light comes from a dingy bulb on an upper landing, and you take Nat’s advice, treading carefully behind her. “This is fancier than I thought,” You say. “I thought it would be like- like a school, I guess.”

“Oh, the studios aren’t so nice,” Nat says, airily, “But they’re an extension out the back of the house. All the live-in students get rooms in here, though. Makes up for the terrible heating and creaky floorboards.”

“My flat just has the heating and the floorboards,” You joke, and Nat laughs.

“Unfortunately the biggest room is the attic, so you always have a climb to get to the common room.”

“Yeah,” You exaggerate the way your breath is wheezing, “I’d noticed.”

“Fury’s always telling us it’s good for our stamina.”

“Well, the civilians could do with a lift,” You joke. Eventually, though, you manage to make it to the top of the stairs (and, to your credit, you don’t need to lean against the wall to recover. Just). Nat pushes open yet another door, and noise and soft light spills out into the stairwell.

“Look who I found,” She calls, and you step through into what must be the Academy’s student common room.

The room is long and low-ceilinged, with multiple skylights set behind the beams letting in the last of the evening sunshine. Golden fairy-lights are strung up on every surface, emitting a gentle glow. On your left is a tiny counter, with a microwave, kettle and toaster ranged beneath a rack of chipped mugs. On your right are a set of speakers and a book shelf. A small TV is set on a table at the far end of the room, surrounded by a collection of battered chairs, beanbags and one low couch: and ranged around it are James, Steve, Sam, and several people you don’t recognise.

“Y/N! You made it up the stairs!” Steve waves at you, and you grin.

“Yeah, you certainly made me work hard enough to get here.” You follow Nat down the room towards them. You try not to let your eyes linger on James, although it’s hard when he’s tilted his head to look at you, his hair mussed on one side from where he’s been leaning against the back of the armchair.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Sam grins. He’s sprawled on one end of the couch. It’s a slightly strange experience to see them all in casual clothes: somehow, you’ve never pictured them wearing something as relaxed as a hoody, but it is so. James raises a hand and gives you that crooked smile.

“Good to see you.”

You barely have time to smile in return before Steve is half-rising from his seat to introduce you to everyone else.

“So, this is Holly, Sef, Simren and Charlie. We have classes together.”

There are a chorus of greetings, and you nod in return, mentally trying to hold onto their names.

“Shove up, you three,” Nat demands, marching round and dropping onto the cushions. “Somebody else can put the film on.” You carefully squeeze in beside her as Charlie, a lanky Asian guy, scrambles to his feet and shoves a DVD into the slot. James had told you on Friday that they were part-way through a Harry Potter marathon, and you relax as the familiar music soars out from the TV. A handful of people are already singing along. You sneak a glance at James, and see that his mouth is twitching. The thought makes you smile, and you turn your attention back to the film.

Before you know it, the end credits are rolling: Harry’s killed the basilisk and saved the day, to an off-screen accompaniment of quotes, snarky observations and general humour. You’re glad you didn’t put on any mascara- several times you’ve laughed so hard there have been tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

When the screen finally goes dark, you shift in your seat and carefully stretch. Whilst you’ve been watching, the sky outside has darkened. Sef gets to her feet and starts pulling down the blinds.

“Thanks for having me,” You say, to nobody in particular, sitting up.

“It was fun!”

“Yeah, it was nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You smile across at Holly and Simren. “You, too.”

Steve jumps to his feet and offers you a hand up. “Before you even start complaining, we’re walking you home.” At your thunderous frown, he assumes a pleading expression. “It’s dark!”

“There could be robbers,” Nat interjects, and you turn to glare at her, too.

“Don’t gang up on me.”

She just smirks up at you.

“Fine,” You sigh, “Who else is joining my bodyguard detail?”

“I’ll come.” James shrugs his way out of his chair and stretches all the way out, his hands grazing the ceiling. You try not to react.

“Anyone else coming for a walk?” Steve asks. Sam shakes his head.

“Nah, man. I’m keeping the corner spot for as long as I’ve got it.”

Nat’s already elongating to take up the space you and Steve have vacated. Steve snorts at her. “Guess that answers that question. Right, let’s go.”

The three of you walk back across the common room and start down the stairs.

“So are you up for joining us on the regular?” Steve asks. “It’s nice to see people who don’t also live with you every once in a while.”

“Ah,” You snicker, “I’m only here for the window dressing, I see how it is. But sorry, next week…” You trail off into thought.

“Next week?” James prompts.

“Sorry- it’s just that I was planning to have a night in with Wanda and Pepper, but- I don’t want to presume on your hospitality or anything-”

“They’re welcome!” Steve says, instantly, “More the merrier, right, Buck?”

“Sure,” James says. “Nice to have some new faces.”

“I’ll just check with them, but I’m sure they’ll be down.” You make a mental note to text them both later. You’ve finally reached the bottom of the stairs and push through the door, before drawing up short: two people are stood in the reception, and they both seem to practically radiate authority.

“Rogers. Barnes.” The imposing dark-skinned man addresses your companions. “Heading out?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve answers. “Just walking Y/N home.”

“Be sure to sign out,” The woman standing beside him warns. Steve seems to straighten up.

“Yes, ma’am.”

A small smile touches the brunette’s lips.

“Just Miss Carter, Rogers.”

“Sure, Miss Carter,” James interjects, politely. “We’ll just sign out.” He pats Steve on the shoulder before retrieving a register from the far side of the desk and scribbling down their names. Miss Carter and her companion disappear through the double doors at the back of the room, and you notice Steve relaxing. It’s not until the three of you are safely out on the street that you ask your question.

“Who was that?”

“That’s Director Fury. He runs the Academy. And Miss Carter, who takes the Advanced Ballet Class.”

“Oh. Oh.” You glance at Steve, your brain putting two and two together. “They’re- um, kind of scary?”

James snorts. “You’re not kidding. Although Mr T is worse.”

“He’s our teacher,” Steve tells you, apparently recovering his voice. “And yeah, he kind of is.”

“Why?” You can’t help a note of teasing sliding into your voice. “Is he a tyrant?”

“Oh, worse than that,” James smirks, “He’s perfect. So, he expects nothing less from us, too.”

You shudder theatrically. “He sounds like Wanda.”

“Is she really that bad?” James sounds sceptical.

“Yes! Just you wait until we’re in the run up to a competition. She’s terrifying, trust me.”

“We’ll take your word for it.” You feel like Steve is just humouring you, but they’ll see. Wanda takes absolutely no prisoners.

“Have you both been practicing?” You ask, as the three of you cross over the road to enter your street.

Steve snorts. “We have to take it in turns. There’s not enough floor-space in our dorm for us both to dance at the same time.”

“So you admit that commercial dance has some worth, then?” You instantly seize your opportunity, grinning broadly at James’ exasperated expression.

“You know, I think that dance hipster comment really stung his pride, Y/N-” Steve starts, right before James pushes him off the curb.

“Good,” You say, smugly, “If it turns him from a hipster into a nerd, I’ll be satisfied.”

“Now I get why you invited her,” James growls, “So that you have someone to gang up on me with.”

“Glad to be of service.” You stick out your tongue at him as Steve laughs. “And thank you, once again, for your assistance-” You’ve reached your flat, “- And I’ll see you both on Wednesday?”

“See you, kid!” Steve calls, now leaping around trying to dodge James’ attempts to pull him into a headlock. Laughing, you wave at the pair of them, before hopping into the porch and unlocking the door, their shouts and curses ringing in your ears.

AN: Tagging continues rampant. If you liked a couple of the previous parts, I’ve tagged you. Drop me a line if it’s no longer your thing and I’ll remove you :) Chapter ten is now complete ( @systemfailuresunshine was shrieking at me, just to give you a taste of what’s to come) so I’ll keep on posting at a frankly reckless rate. Thank you darlings for your engagement so far <3

Tag list: @plumsforbuck2016; @learisa; @themarvelousmaximoffs; @blonde0n; @debzybrazy; @vintagesaph; @casdoesntunderstandthatreference; @imthemishamigo; @smaug-the-homedog; @seb-styles;  @madeofstarsdust; @buckybabybaby

Part 4

#bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #I wrote a thing #Feeling Alive #Feeling Alive Part Three #Bucky rly doesn't have time for appropriate punctuation #Also I have Brit mannerisms #If that's going to annoy you then *shrug*

[milocrespi-blog]

My Little Pony: The Movie (2017) Review

At Last.

As far as animated films go there was no other film that I was more anxious, yet terrified to see than My Little Pony: The Movie. The film of the heavily popular current animated series of the same same has finally hit the big screen.

But I was a bit concerned with it at first. Don't get me wrong, when I saw the teaser trailer for the film I was hooked, but my biggest concern was on whether or not the film would work as a standalone film. So when I left the theater for the first time impressions, I surprisingly had mixed feelings on the film. I returned home frustrated, I had difficulty getting any sleep, I was stressed for no reason the next day. So I thought that in order to alleviate my problems, I decided to go see it a second time. And I am happy to say that I had a much more pleasant experience re-watching it.

But that's not to say that there aren't any flaws in the film. Far from it. One flaw includes the story. It's not a bad story, but it is very weak; and this was the element that I was worried about before. Since this is a movie that is primarily made for the fans and younger audiences, I feel that non fans wouldn't get into this because the story is not very strong or interesting. I think I found it the most noticeable when at the film's second act low point. Not to spoil anything, but the way that it's handled felt stock in my case. Now true the reasonings behind the character's decisions made sense when you look at from their viewpoints, but the scene's end result had me rolling my eyes. Thankfully I was able to accept it as well as the rest of the story upon the second viewing. Yes, I thought that the story was very weak, and it is a legit problem for introducing this film to newcomers, but it's something that's basically harmless on re-watches.

The Storm King: Good lord was he bland. He's trying to be funny like Hades from Disney's Hercules, or even Discord for that matter, but he's still trying to be intimidating like Tempest at the same time. His writing was really weak, and his screen time is about as brief as the time it takes for you to finish reading this review. So again, he's not only un-interesting, he's also barely given enough screen time in order to be seen as captivating. Ok, so those are just some flaws, they're easy to overlook for me. So what's the problem here? It can be described in one word: Purpose. You may have already noticed that The Storm King doesn't have a whole lot of screen time. You know who else doesn't have a lot of purpose to this movie? The three princesses. Yeah, as soon as they show up, they're instantly tuned to stone and are essentially gone for the rest of the movie and are only used as plot devices. Michael Peña as Grubber? Geez, has anyone ever heard about "forced comedy relief" before? The same also apply's to the Pirate scene. We spend ~ 10 min with these guys, and when the scene involving them is finished it makes you wonder what was the point of even having that scene if we're not going to spend a lot of time on it? And that's the main problem with this movie for me: there are so many things that either could've been cut or could've been given more screen time to develop. You know how people really like to market the "Extended Edition" of certain movies - not using it as a means to fix really crucial elements in the film but only using it as a marketing gimmick - this is the one instance where an extended edition copy of a movie could be a godsend. We could get extra footage of the Storm King so that way we can not only get to see more of his character and his personality, but also leave more of an impact. We could see more of the pirates so they can feel more developed, and hell we could give more screen time for some of the Mane 6 cause there's a few of them that really need it!

So with that said...let's talk about the stuff that I liked. I don't think I need to say this, but the animation was stellar. This is some of the best 2-D animation I have seen in years. The visuals are so stunning, the characters are so expressive, and the movement so smooth. If this movie didn't have the animation, then I would've been singing a different tune. Because in my opinion the animation is the movie's saving grace. Although I really do agree with Cellspex's criticism about the characters movement. Everyone moves really slow in this movie, which works well in some scenes but not in others.

The characters are also pretty good, both the old and the new. For a while I wasn't as big a fan of Tempest Shadow as much as everyone else. But after listening to Emily Blunt's performance and seeing her act very intimidating towards other the characters, I decided to change my thoughts on her. She's very graceful, very quiet, and massively powerful (kind of like Maleficent in a way). My only problem though is that her past and overall character is very one-noted. She's not the kind of character who would be described as "complex." But it was Emily Blunt's performance, the design and intimidation that sold her for me; not really the character herself. I thought Capper was very charming, I thought the pirates were fun (and by that I mean that their musical number was fun, not so much in the personality department), Kristen Chenoweth as Skystar was...ok. The voice acting was pretty good too, for the most part. A lot of these actors brought their A material, and it shows. I wouldn't really say that the film was particularly hilarious, but there were a few jokes and reactions that got a chuckle out of me here and there. I was surprised that Pinkie Pie was the emotional center of the film. She has some of the most dramatic scenes of the film, and I'm thoroughly pleased (Although I would've liked to have seen some of her 4th wall breaks in the film, I thought that would've made the film a lot funnier). And not to mention, she's not forced comedy relief and actually get's to express drama! The others do get things to do, but my biggest disappointment was with Fluttershy. She's barely given anything to say or do. She's only given - yes, I counted - 22 lines in this movie, and that's not even counting the moments where she sings along (again, an extended edition would be really nice so that way she can stick out in the group).

On that subject, the music was pretty good. Ok maybe not every song is memorable, but I found myself tapping my foot to quite a few of them on the way out. It did take me a really long time to get used to it, but Rainbow by Sia...I mean damn. True in terms of vocals it was a bit distracting because she sounds like she's slurring all of her lines, but in terms of lyrics and rhythms, this song is amazing. I occasionally end up in very dark places in my life; but whenever that happens I can always seek comfort from my very supportive friends and family, and that usually makes me overwhelmed and kind of saddened knowing that I receive a lot of love. This song is kind of like that: it's sort of the song equivalent of a hug after a long depression. It's not the greatest song ever, but it is one that I like to listen to a lot.

So as a whole, I thought the movie was fine, as is. Is it perfect? No. Much like the show itself, you will never hear me say that this movie is great or perfect. Its failings do exist, and they are big and distracting ones if your looking for a movie that has a good narrative. Again, this did indeed bother me when I first saw it and I was stressed out the ass the following day. I generally dislike movies that require the audience to watch or read something in order to fully appreciate something whether it be a movie or a show. Remember, I had conflicting feelings about Wonder Woman, and in the end I acknowledge that the movie is great for D.C fans, and only ok to everyone else. The unneeded characters is a big, BIG issue for me; I can maybe ignore the weak story, but the way the movie throws in all of these pointless and brief scenes and characters and clichés is something that I cannot defend. If there's one thing that I'm glad about this problem, is that I finally came out and admitted something that I really didn't like about the film. For most of my weekend I went through denial thinking that this movie is good, but now that I confessed that the film has a weak spot, I can hopefully relax for once.

But I'm really hoping that shouldn't be enough for you to turn down this film if you're a non fan, cause there's a lot of talent and effort that went into this film (of course I know that it's a fool's wish to think that). If the story were a little bit more original, if some of the characters were more fleshed out, then I think we would've had something really special here. Is the film challenging? No. But like the Marvel Cinematic Universe movies, it doesn't have to be challenging in order to be fun.

5.5/10 Slightly Above-Average

#Milo Crespi #Film #Review #My Little Pony #mlp: the movie

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