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maccreadysbaby · 1 year

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Male Companions React: MacCready Only Edition

(TW: MENTIONS OF BLOOD AND GORE)

Request: macky has some kind of breakdown after a huge fight with enemy of your choice. Maybe it’s about Duncan or sole or maybe he’s just sick and tired and weak. F!sole plz

(p.s. this hurt me)

MacCready’s mind was nothing more than a blurry haze as he loaded a few more rounds into his sniper rifle, keeping his 10mm close by his side. When Sole first spoke to Mackenzie Bridgeman about dispatching the raiders of Nuka-World, he thought it would be like any other raider gang. A quick and easy fight with a few quips thrown back and forth, but it was nothing like that. What it really was was a bloodbath.

He’d never seen so many raiders in once place. They kept coming out of the woodworks. Many of the vendors in Nuka-Town Market had been murdered mercilessly by the raiders for their betrayal, leaving only Sole and MacCready, who were laying on the top of the market booths to get a slightly elevated position.

That’s how every fight had been lately. Harder. Bloodier. Longer. The mutants seemed to grow stronger, and the raiders seemed to be higher. Everything was growing in numbers. Everything but their group, which had stayed at a steady two for as long as MacCready had known Sole.

He watched several raiders collapse to the concrete as Sole’s bullets pierced their bodies and brains. He landed a few more headshots, but his mind was swimming. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d actually sat down, took a break, talked. When had they eaten last?

He had no idea. All be knew was that his adrenaline was through the roof — a feeling that was becoming ever more familiar and constant. His heartbeat was rapid, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and lay there. Life had been throwing punches ever since he left little lamplight. He thought that, after meeting Sole, things might be a little easier with her around. Safety in numbers, right? Wrong. Her bright blue vault suit made them nothing more than walking targets.

The entire floor of the market was running red, glowing thanks to the evening sun, as the pair hastily let more bullets fly. He watched in silence as raiders fell, crumpled to the ground, lifeless. When was he given authority to take lives? Wasn’t he still just that kid from little lamplight? The boy with the weight of his family on his shoulders? The weight he wasn’t strong enough to carry, the weight he shouldn’t be carrying alone?

Yet there he was. Carrying it all by himself. Just like he did then, just like he always would.

He hadn’t realized the fight was over until Sole’s light falsetto broke him out of his trance. “How are you, RJ? Are you hurt?” She was suddenly crouched beside him with a hand on his shoulder, worried irises trailing over his body for injuries. “I think that’s all of them. Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

He nodded in response, and followed her lead back down to the main market. There were so many dead people. So many dead people that had once had a family. That even in this screwed up world, found people to accept them, to take them in. People that were just people, fallen victim to the horror of the wasteland. Who gave him the authority to kill?

“I just…” His voice sounded foreign in his ears. He hadn’t noticed his hands were shaking until he hung his rifle around himself. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Sole sent him a confused glance, but even if she was worried, she let him walk away by himself.

He found himself hop-scotching over bodies to make it to the back of the Market, as far as he could get from Sole. His hands were shaking almost vigorously at this point, and he could practically feel the color draining from his face. He felt like he was going to vomit and scream and pass out all at once. He hadn’t felt like this since right after Lucy, when he couldn’t hold it together anymore. He thought he wouldn’t have to go through that again.

But now, with all of the lives he’d taken, Duncan’s fleeting time, and the unwanted independence and responsibility that had been forced on him for his entire life whirled around in his mind, he had to put his hands on one of the transaction counters to keep himself standing.

His chest and throat were getting tight like they used to before. He felt the back of his eyes burning as the tears he tried to desperately to shove aside built against his eyelids. His entire body was trembling now, despite how many times he told it not to. He wasn’t built to handle this. The killing. The death. The weight of his son’s life on his shoulders, and now, Sole’s protection, too?

He was just a kid.

He wasn’t sure when he’d started crying so violently, but his shoulders were bouncing with every sob and it felt like he wasn’t getting enough air. One of his hands managed to find its way to his eyes — where it always went when he cried, hoping it would hide the tears just a bit — and the other stayed on the counter. If he moved it he’d fall over.

His chest was heaving with his violent sobs as he put nearly all his weight on the counter ahead of him. His knees felt like they were about to give out. He was about to hit the pavement.

And suddenly, two arms snaked around him from behind. Two dainty, small arms that could only belong to one person. One person that, despite their gentleness, was the only thing left really holding him together.

“I know,” She whispered so softly it was almost inaudible. “It’s just me and you.”

He almost fell right then and there. His cries seemed to grow just a little louder, just a little more violent after her quiet consolation. If it wasn’t for her tiny arms clasped around his abdomen, he’d surely be in a million pieces.

“I-I,” He hiccuped, rubbing furiously at his leaking eyes with one hand. “I don’t.. I don’t want t-to… I can’t… do this any-anymore.”

“Shh, shhh,” She said almost desperately, tightening her grip around him. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

His entire body shook with the force of his sobs as he let his knees give out, the pair sinking pitifully onto the bloody concrete. Sole moved quickly, transitioning from hugging around his waist to sitting up on her knees with her arms around his shoulders from behind. “Just let it happen, RJ. Don’t try to stop it.”

He felt himself grabbing for her arms, for some small part of her to hold onto. He was sure he looked absolutely pitiful. But, as she freed her hands so she could hold onto his, he decided he didn’t care what it looked like, because she didn’t.

“I… I…”

“Shhhh,” She trailed on. The warmth of her body against his back and her head against his shoulder was what he tried to focus on, but even then, he couldn’t seem to stop shaking, to stop crying.

“You… you… why are y-you s-still…?” He stammered, sniffing like a child.

He felt her bury her head further into his shoulder. “If you think for one second I’m going to up and leave, you’re crazy. I’m with you, RJ. And that means during times like now. Especially times like now.”

As they sat there, on the bloody ground of the market, one of them sobbing and the other trying their best to console, he hated how much she reminded him of Lucy. She’d even unintentionally said the last words he’d ever heard from his late wife:

I’m with you, RJ.

And even if it would send him into a world of pain, just like it did last time, his tired and battered soul believed it with every broken part. Because he needed it.

He needed her.

#piper fo4 #fo4 companions #fo4 oc #fo4 #fallout four #fo4 maccready #mayor hancock #rj maccready #robert joseph maccready #maccready #duncan maccready

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phierecycled · 3 years

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Does anyone just randomly feel like overanalysing Falsettos and to put that into essay form before they realise that they are just one person who is a student and has assessments and doesn’t have the time to write multiple essays about one singular show and put it in chronicle form simply for their own enjoyment or satisfaction in the future?

#I'm so tempted to write essays about the topics and concepts in Falsettos #I feel like it would be too much for me to do though #maybe I should brainstorm doing a collaborative thing with others???#that would be interesting #tell me if you would be interested in doing that #falsettos #march of the falsettos #falsettoland #broadway #in trousers #the marvin trilogy #falsettos thought vomit

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finaldreams1106 · 3 years

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ah ah ah once-stoic/full-of-witty-remarks villain broken/breaking after being tortured for information for quite a while

bonus points if they never even had the information in the first place

“Congratulations,” SuperVillain said, “you made it to five.”

Villain flinched as the door flung open, not daring to look up at their captor.

“What?” SuperVillain asked, their voice pitched high in mock surprise, “I made it five already?” they glanced at Villain’s unmoving form, then sighed. “Five what Supervillain? Please tell me,” SuperVillain’s falsetto continued, “I’m dying to know.”

Villain’s shoulders hunched slightly at the last phrase, trying to make themselves smaller in the hard wooden chair they had spent most of the last year in. They didn’t look at SuperVillain, tried to ignore the looming form as they got closer.

“Five liters Villain,” SuperVillain’s breath was hot on their face, “of blood spilled. Just to hide one tiny little secret.”

Villain’s eyes flicked up, meeting SuperVillain’s for a fraction of a second before their fist met Villain’s chin, tilting the chair back with the force. Their teeth clicked together as their head was thrown back, but SuperVillain grabbed them by the throat and pulled them forward again before the chair could completely fall.

The sudden reversal of momentum as Villain was pulled back down brought their teeth to another snapping close. Unfortunately, this time their tongue was in the way. They hissed in pain, spitting out globules of blood as the coppery taste filled their mouth.

“Did you know,” SuperVillain mused, not releasing Villain’s neck, “that the average body only has 5 liters of blood? That means that I have wrung every drop of blood from you.” They smiled, looking at their captive, “I wonder how many liters you’ll lose by the end of today?” Their grin widened, as their grip tightened on Villain’s throat and lifted them, chair and all, into the air.

Villain’s eyes bugged out as their air supply faded, blackness starting to lap at the edges of their vision. Then SuperVillain released them, the blood-soaked chair shattering under them as they collapsed back to the ground.

SuperVillain swore as the wooden chair broke, their boot slamming against Villain’s chest before they could react, preventing any thought of escape.

Villain gasped, the broken wood jabbing into their flesh, blood flowing past their head over the cold metal floor to the drain. SuperVillain’s foot pressed down against their ribs, pressure increasing until Villain could hear their ribs starting to crack.

“Let’s just make this simple,” SuperVillain said, sighing to disguise their unease, “tell me who Hero is, and I’ll let you go.”

Warm liquid spread around Villain, a long gash around their hips torn open from the force of impact. They gasped, their head turning to the side as pain filled them again. Again. Always. The world blurred as SuperVillain pushed down harder, their ribs crunching against the pressure. They vomited, nothing but bile, from the combination of pressure and pain. Then they started dry heaving, their torso wracked in agony as their body tried to purge itself of whatever was causing the horrible sensations.

“Are you crying?” SuperVillain’s voice drifted around them, but Villain couldn’t respond, couldn’t think. “Took a while for that to happen.”

Villain choked out tears and bile, twisting onto their chest as SuperVillain stepped off of them. The relief of that tiny movement only brought more tears, it had been so long since they had been able to move. They tried to crawl forward, just away, but SuperVillain swept down next to them slamming a hand against the back of Villain’s face. Forcing it down into the wetness of blood and tears.

Villain choked, snuffling, then coughing as their nose filled with their own blood.

“After all this time,” SuperVillain whispered, “a broken chair is what breaks you? Who is Hero?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Villain screamed, their voice breaking. They hadn’t spoken in months; it had been pointless.

SuperVillain growled, slamming Villain’s head to the ground before standing again. “Of course you know!” SuperVillain yelled back, shoving Villain to the side with their foot before storming to the door. They stopped there, breathing heavily as they glared at their prisoner, “how could you not?”

Villain lay there, their body twitching, trembling. Their breathing rapid after their outburst, eyes squeezed shut.

SuperVillain felt a sudden disgust at the broken body, they had felt a grudging respect all this time. Villain had managed to hold their tongue no matter what SuperVillain did. But this.

They turned away, slamming the door behind them. They doubted Villain would manage to get far in the state they were in.

This broken body had nothing for them, maybe they never did.

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binary-colour · 5 years

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Falsettos UK time

So I just went to see the UK production of Falsettos last night and kind of wanted to word vomit all my thoughts and key parts of it onto a post so that I can preserve the amazingness in my mind for as long as possible.

Basically, I’ve been obsessed with this show for a while now and it lived up to every expectation possible. The cast were incredible, the singing was outstanding and my mum sobbed solidly through the second act.

FYI - we had the male cover Matthew McKenna as Whizzer (I was a bit worried at first but he was incredible)

This is v v long so read at own risk ig. Also, spoilers!

Four Jews was portraying Jason’s birth (like, the ‘slavery’ was Trina going into labour). It worked really well actually, especially for people who had no idea what the show was about (ie 90% of the audience lmao) It was also Trina in it more than Jason, but there was this hilarious bit when they did the ‘I’m Mendel!’ etc. section and Trina went ‘I’m-‘ and got cut off Also Whizzer piggybacked Jason, my heart

Tight Knit Family - as you’d expect I guess, Daniel’s voice was 👌 Also Marvin did ‘friend’ in airquotes and Whizzer did this mega eye roll lmao

Love is Blind - I guess there wasn’t much else different, just that they all stood in the photo frames when Trina sung about them which was a v nice touch ¯\_(ツ)_/

Thrill of First Love - Whizzer was,, a lot more argumentative than I expected I guess? Like, almost a bit aggressive? But overall it was great, they were so snarky and less sexual than the revival (which my asexual ass didn’t mind) apart from one reaaaach. They also had v good chemistry to say it wasn’t Oliver performing.

Marvin At The Psychiatrist - the staging was pretty similar to revival. Whizzer was watching from the top and he made all these offended faces when Marvin and Mendel were talking about him (when they said he was ‘smarmy’ he did this Offended Gay expression it was great). Then Trina started unbuttoning her shirt in Pt. 2 and Mendel got really flustered, it was wild. Everyone was dying from laughter. Also, ‘it’s queer Mr Marvin… sorry, it’s strange Mr Marvin’ deserves its own shoutout

My Father’s A Homo/Everyone Tells Jason to See A Psychiatrist - Elliot is a star, what more can I say. His voice is soo good as well. When Whizzer arrived Trina and him did this 😒 face at each other.

I’m Breaking Down - I thought no-one could come close to Stephanie’s iconic performance in the revival, but Laura rocked it. She was setting the table for Mendel coming, and it had this mega chaotic energy where she threw the bananas around and screamed ‘shIT’ when they fell onto the floor. For the ‘fulfill his needs’ bit she really aggressively ripped the top of the banana off and peeled it lmao. Also, she was drinking from the wine bottle for one of the choruses and humming, it was amazing.

Jason’s Therapy - Jason was definitely the most mature one in this scene haha. After Mendel did his first dance sequence, Jason just put a hand on his shoulder to stop him and sighed before he said the ‘is this therapy?’ bit. Marvin and Trina sat drinking at the side of the stage the whole time lmao. When it was the second ‘is this therapy?’ line, they both held up their glasses for the ‘yES!’. Also, for the final bit Marvin, Trina and Whizzer all came on singing into glasses and slapping their legs with plates lmao.

Marriage proposal - I saw a few people saying that this was a bit ~creepy~ rather than cute, and I guess I see what they mean? But they didn’t do the weird vampire wrist grab like the revival, so I guess that’s a plus. Trina was very confused the whole time, bless her, and for the ‘start to cry’ she was like ‘I’m not??’ and then Mendel starting blubbering. Plus, Jason sang the ‘biblical times?’ first one rather than Trina, and Marvin did this Super Sassy ‘bIbLiCaL tImEs’ that was hilarious.

Trina’s Song/March of the Falsettos - This was staged as a nightmare sequence, which brought some sense to the madness of MoTF. Like, when she woke up she continued with the song, it worked really well. I also really liked that they reenacted the wedding scene from 4 Jews as part of it, it really showed Trina’s fear that something bad would happen again.

The Chess Game - Wow, this was... intense. Whizzer was super snarky, so Marvin got mad at him pretty quickly. It was so funny though, especially when it was Whizzer saying the ‘move a pawn’ bit and he sat in his chair like Marvin and acted all stern. Marvin was drinking solidly, so when Whizzer ‘won’ and knocked over a ton of pieces he lobbed the board off stage and hit a few things. Whizzer backed off pretty quick looking scared and Marvin was apologetic until the ‘Whizzer’s supposed to make the dinner’ bit, when he got Whizzer’s suitcase and packed it for him on stage before throwing it at him. Also, the ‘this had better come to a stop’ was targeted at the liquor bottle.

Making a home – Mendel came on with only a house plant and it got kicked out of the house anyway lmao I relate. The dog bit Jason’s chessboard rip.

The Games I Play – this was performed so well my mum almost cried. It was much softer than any other version I’ve heard and more… spoken? But the notes at the end were belted and spot on, but he still had the slight tremor like he was tearing up. Your heart really went out for Whizzer, especially as the Motel projected on the screens on his side were mirrored by the homely ones on the other.

Marvin Hits Trina – Marvin didn’t tear up the invitation but he did hit a lot of stuff. Mendel also seemed a lot less angry at him when Marvin first came in then the revival – I guess Marvin was somewhat drunk in this. He also looked MAD at Whizzer whenever he sang his bits, apart from when Whizzer chokes up a bit when he says he doesn’t love him, and you see Marvin falter a bit then before he shouts at everyone. The lights went red when he hit Trina, which really added to the effect (although they were a bit late whoops)

I Never Wanted to Love You – Jason was crying and hugging Trina after Marvin hit her, and Mendel came and surrounded them in this big ~protective dad~ way. Marvin looked genuinely sorry as well, which was nice I guess.

Father to Son – The staging of this was really simple – they were just sat on the floor centre stage face-to-face. But it was so heartfelt, and Marvin looked like he was going to cry for most of it. And at first, Jason was a bit hesitant to hug him after what happened before, but you could see how relieved Marvin was when he did.

Falsettoland – Mendel pointed at the audience for the ‘homosexuals’ and ‘mother with children’ lmao. The tiny band was the wedding ring too. Whizzer was introduced back on with ‘homosexual’ and he did this offended ‘really’ gesture it was great. No Nancy Reagan punchbag unfortunately, but the lesbians came on holding signs saying Love Is Love <3. Marvin and Trina seemed a lot more friendly in this too, which was a nice touch!

Year of the Child – Mendel was Too Scared to really disrupt the arguments haha. Trina was fierce, Marvin suggested the caterers really sheepishly and she basically bit his head off it was hilarious. And when the lesbians arrived with the food, she literally said off-mic ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ to Marvin. At the end, Jason ran off because they were all too ~excited~ and the last part of the song was spent looking for him lmao.

Miracle of Judaism – ‘Jo… what’s the name of that bitch?’ im dead

Baseball Game – Jason had a pretty good swing before Whizzer even arrived to be honest. The lesbians fully got up and yelled at the umpire it was great. Mendel got up to sing his bit, and Marvin and Trina just sort of led him to sit back down and apologised offstage. Whizzer kept teasing Marvin back about the hairline comments, and Marvin just mournfully rubbed his head like ‘I know.’ It was hilarious.

A Day in Falsettoland – Charlotte and Cordelia were the patients and they were both amazing. Mendel wasn’t even sorry about the name. Charlotte literally spat the food back onto Cordelia’s plate, she didn’t even hide it lmao. ‘Maybe in a mile I’ll be okay.’ ‘a mILE?’ Same Mendel. Also, Trina runs with weights? Raquetball worked really well to say there was such little space on stage. It was nice to see the softer side to Marvin and Whizzer’s relationship, the occasional kisses throughout the game.

Everyone Hates His Parents – it was pretty similar to the revival, except Mendel and Jason both did a mega cartwheel?! I was shocked, it was perfect. Also, Trina cried ‘you’re killing me!’ to Jason after he said he didn’t want the bar mitzvah, which made the ‘kill you mother’ verse a bit more understandable lmao. Also, Trina kept giving Marvin these ‘seriously?’ looks during that whole song.

What More Can I Say - this was so sweet, so Domestic. Marvin was like this happy puppy. Whizzer basically fell asleep reading, and Marvin was taking his glasses off and putting the book aside, it was v sweet

Something Bad is Happening - lovely singing from the lesbians, extra runs! They were So Good together. When Whizzer collapsed (it was a proper keel over too), Marvin lifted his head and shoulders into lap and sang it straight to him. It was v sweet and sad, Whizzer was crying and apologising to him :’(

Holding to the Ground - this is such a beautiful song, and Laura sounded incredible. They were setting up the set behind her, but there were sirens and a heart monitor came on when they helped Whizzer into the hospital bed.

Days like this - Marvin brought this awful cheesy card, and Whizzer just held it up to the audience like ‘what’. But he kept reading the on Trina and Mendel brought and showing it to Marvin. The Whizzer/Trina solidarity was v sweet, he kissed her cheek and things when they arrived.

Cancelling the Bar Mitzvah - Jason started properly crying into Trina who cried as well. It was so raw and emotional, you really felt their fear for what is happening. My only qualm was that they cut part out?? It’s one of my favourite lines, when Mendel sings the ‘becoming a man’ bit :s

Four Unlikely Lovers - now this was heartbreaking. Marvin went and cried at the end of the hospital bed at the beginning, and he sobbed at Whizzer’s ‘our bed’. They were really sweet though, always kissing foreheads or holding hands and things - I don’t think they let go all song. Cordelia and Charlotte also came in holding hands <3

Side note! Whizzer seemed in a lot more pain in this!! Which made me really sad

Something Bad (reprise) - Jason was watching Charlotte sing it instead of Marvin, I guess it was almost like her preparing him for what was going to happen to his Dad too?!

You Gotta Die Sometime - this was sooo well sung, it was pretty soft and then he started breaking down at end instead of belting the note :’’( Until Jason came in and he was like ‘um where’s your parents??’

Jason’s Bar Mitzvah - it had such a nice tight-knit ( ;) ) feeling to it which was really bittersweet. Mendel came in hiding balloons v unsuccessfully behind his back. The took the photo again, which was great (although not bitter they didn’t use the camera effect in that for the line in Everyone Tells Jason to See A Psychiatrist or anything). When Jason sung the prayer, he waved away the book and stood on table v proud. Then Jason sort of beckoned Whizzer over, which made him collapse onto the floor and Jason was taken off screaming for him. It was heartbreaking.

What Would I Do - the one that finally broke me. It was so so sad, Whizzer was still alive collapsed in bed so they sung it to each other and held held hands until he flatlined at end. On stage. My God.

At the end, the rest of the family all crowded around the bed and surrounded Marvin (who was properly sobbing). Mendel blew the candle that had been lit for the Bar Mitzvah out, and the photo they took came up on screen.

So, conclusion, see this show NOW before it ends its ridiculously short run. Honestly. You won’t regret a penny.

#will probably delete later #please excuse the cringy writing of this and the probable bad grammar #it's very late and i'm very very tires #*tired #*sigh*#falsettos #falsettos uk #west end #musical #musicals

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callmethehunter · 4 years

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Thoughts on your other blond bae, Roger Taylor. I've not heard you wax poetic about him much, I think. : )

Hey Sugarplum thanks for the ask!! I started to have a crush on Roger based purely on those big blue eyes and long eyelashes but as I fixated on him more, I came to find out that he is brilliant, funny, extremely talented (he's also got a great falsetto voice) and a loyal friend who was very protective over Freddie during his illness.

The moment I really fell in love with him was when I read a letter he handwrote to The Rolling Stone magazine in response to a critical article. He wrote it on the back of a planes vomit bag. 🤣And it was scathing and hilarious. (I just reblogged it) He completely embraced the rock and roll lifestyle and is just a bad ass who recently toured with Adam Lambert in 2017. Roger is passionate and sometimes quick to anger which makes him a little unpredictable and I like that too. I also appreciate his ability to complement fellow musicians -which a lesser person may not be gracious enough to do (such as when Keith Richards openly criticized Led Zeppelin during an interview, stating they were overrated, that Bonham played too loud etc). In contrast, Roger, who is a great drummer himself, actually praised John Bonham as being the greatest rock drummer of all time. Something which if he had a huge ego he could not have done. So the combination of all these things is packaged nicely inside of his outer physical beauty. He's awesome!!!! Here's a quick peek at his beauty 😁. Thank you @brownskinsugarplum76 for asking !!

Gifs by @innueendo

#why i love roger taylor #queen #ask

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complicatedandstained · 5 years

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The Other Day at Hot Topic: Unwanted Advice

Roxas didn’t know how lucky he was that Vanitas initially intended to give him the silent treatment this morning.

Axel’s barely taken three steps out of Hot Topic before Vanitas starts in on Roxas again. Dude saunters up to him, swiping his tongue across the back of his hand and then cringing. Vanitas leans an arm against the checkout counter and tilts his head to squint up at the ceiling.

“I think there is actual vomit in my mouth right now.”

Talking with Axel’s left Roxas slightly fuzzy-headed, with a smile that’s starting to hurt his jaw. Roxas runs fingers through his hair and strains to mirror Vanitas’ scowl. “Shut up.”

Vanitas’ smooth, throaty voice lifts into a falsetto to mimic Roxas’ earlier words, “‘You want to pierce my what?’”

The falsetto drops off as Roxas grips the edge of the counter, tan knuckles whitening, and not just because he does not sound like that.

“Cringe.” Vanitas shifts to better visually appreciate Roxas’ growing discomfort. “I know grandmothers with better game than you.”

How had he and Axel not realized sooner Vanitas was listening in?

“Friends.” Roxas pushes back from the counter with both hands. “We’re friends.”

Vanitas’ smile stretches wider. “You were getting friendly alright.”

He has unexpectedly perfect teeth and that’s somehow unnerving.

“Chin up, though, Fight Club.” Vanitas pats the counter in lieu of trying to touch Roxas again. “I think your crush found it all endearing and such.”

Crush, Roxas considers. Because when someone else finds out about it, that’s the feeling that you get in your chest.

Vanitas prattles on, unaware that Roxas’ lungs have collapsed and he ought to be calling a paramedic.

“He was laying it on pretty thick. I don’t think a piercing’s the only thing that slut wants to give you for free.” Vanitas winks, like Axel had when he’d extended the offer, and Roxas feels like he’s been snapped in the face with a rubber band. “Be careful though. You’re a tiny thing, wouldn’t want him to break you.”

And then Vanitas starts to turn to walk away. And Roxas absolutely can’t have that.

“What’s your problem with me?” Roxas blurts before his common sense can grab him by the shoulders and restrain. “Do you want me to deck you again or what?”

The words don’t feel natural. He isn’t one for threats or unprompted violence, but he’s starting to wonder if that’s the only dialect of ‘stop talking’ Vanitas understands.

The guy’s smile drops straight off and he lifts both hands. Unfortunately, his mouth is still running, “No, no, no, hey, I get it now, sensitive topic: you and your new—ahem—close personal friend.” Vanitas’ dark brows bounce, and Roxas dated Seifer long enough to know when he was intentionally being baited.

Roxas places his hands back on the checkout counter and leans forward like he might vault himself over it. His next words edge through gritted teeth. “Drop it, man.”

“Hey,” Vanitas steps back, looking genuinely alarmed for half a second, apparently just now remembering that time when Roxas knocked him to the floor like a deflated punching bag. “I’m going to, because you didn’t rat me out earlier, and that was surprisingly not horrible of you.”

Vanitas nods like he’s about to go his own way.

“Not that it particularly helped,” he mumbles to himself, and then pauses, glances back over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. “Why didn’t you rat me out, by the way? You had plenty of chances to tell you-know-who what I said about him.”

Roxas scoffs. It’s like this Vanitas kid physically can’t not mock him. “Because I hit you? Because I can’t afford to lose this job?”

Vanitas’ pockets his hands and leans back, considering this new information with a wince.

Roxas stares Vanitas down. “And because you told me we were good. Are we good?”

“Of course, Roxas.” Vanitas makes no attempt to sound convincing.

“You’re not going to say this stuff to anyone who will listen?” Roxas prompts, and he’s starting to sound a touch pleading, “Because Axel has a boyfriend.”

Vanitas smirks. “No kidding.”

“And if he thinks I’m into him he might decide he doesn’t want me around.” The admission hurts worse than Vanitas’ mocking, burning at the edges of his tongue like something hot.

Vanitas rolls his eyes, voice smooth as ever, “You need to relax, Roxas. I’m not going to say anything to anyone, and I’ve got the bruised ribs to remind me.”

Roxas stares at Vanitas, trying to make himself sound like some kind of victim, as if Roxas wasn’t there.

“Actually,” Vanitas continues, drumming fingertips against the counter, his matte white polished nails not as chipped as his own. “I meant to be nicer earlier, it’s just, never in a million years did I think Axel’d actually be into a cute, insignificant, little nothing like you. But he must be, right? Because otherwise—and I’m still trying to process this part—he would have torn your throat out for talking trash about his boyfriend. Talk about ballsy, Roxie.”

“What?” Each word out of Vanitas’ mouth sounds more and more absurd. “I didn’t…”

Vanitas’ hand goes flat against the counter and he leans in like a poker player upping the ante. “Didn’t you?”

“You’re trying to say that Axel and Saïx are… actually together.” Roxas’ brows furrow. “Axel and Saïx.”

“Our type A, emotionally void, drill sergeant boss? That’s his man.” Vanitas shakes his head wistfully. “No wonder his thoughts are straying…”

As awful as this description sounds, it reminds Roxas of what he had said to Axel. About his... boyfriend? But Axel is nothing like that. And Axel had been so nice afterwards. And Vanitas is such a prick there’s no telling…

“Ah-ha.” Vanitas giggles and it’s terrifying. “You seriously didn’t know. Well, there goes half my respect for you. But hey, consider my honesty your payback for not ratting me out. Axel and Saïx? They’ve been together since the dawn of time, dumbass. It’s why Axel’s always here.”

Roxas shakes his head. It doesn’t add up.

“Quit messing with me.”

“Wish I was,” Vanitas picks up a round, pokéball shaped chapstick from one of the counter display bins and rolls it between his fingers. “Most days I feel like a ping pong ball being smacked between the two of ‘em. They don’t want to let me get away with anything, but they don’t want to fire me, free me.”

Vanitas clenches the chapstick in his hand and seems to realize he’s gotten off topic.

“They live together,” he elaborates, gesturing with his open hand like a reluctant orchestra conductor. “They’ve got like a dog, a flower garden, throw cushions, plans to honeymoon in Italy.” He stops, nose wrinkling. “I could keep going, but I’d vomit, and you’d be cleaning it up for making me explain this.”

Roxas tries to picture it—it just seems so unlikely. Axel’s so easygoing, Saïx, so uptight. They’re like hot and cold, an oven and a freezer.

“They’d strangle each other in five minutes,” Roxas objects.

“Had a lot of time to make it work. Grew up together. Childhood sweethearts,” Vanitas draws a mocking smile, shoulder bouncing again in a nonchalant challenge. “Ask anybody.”

Roxas’ arms cross, and it feels childish but necessary. “I will.”

“And when they confirm, you and I’ll be even.” Vanitas tosses the chapstick up, catches it. “How about that?”

“If they confirm.”

“When.” Vanitas gives Roxas another triumphant stare that makes his stomach feel like he’s chugged a large, freezing milkshake. “Now,” he jerks a thumb to the backroom where piles of boxes still await them, “let’s get back to work.”

Roxas snorts, taken aback. “Did you just say ‘work’?”

Roxas hasn’t forgotten that Vanitas’ definition of ‘working’ earlier had been standing around while he and Aqua lugged boxes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Vanitas rolls his eyes, “gonna pull my weight and all that jazz. Getting fired’s off the agenda for a while.” His annoyance darkens to a glare. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

“Fine.” Roxas shrugs and moves to head out from behind the register to join him. Whatever Aqua’d said to the guy must have been pretty darn inspiring. “But you need to start minding your own business.”

“There, there, Fight Club.” Vanitas pats his shoulder and slides between Roxas and the rounder of hair dyes, toward the back, wearing a smile that makes Roxas twitch. “Your dirty little secret’s safe with me.”

* *

Axel’s always thought that if he and Larxene had friendship necklaces they would say something passive aggressive like “Best B*tches” or “You Suck Slightly Less Than Other People.” And the way Axel sees it, we all need that friend who tells it to us straight. It just so happens that, in Axel’s case, all of his friends tell it to him straight: Saïx, Demyx, Xigbar...

But Larxene is next level.

There had been a break in the Claire’s crowds, and Axel and Larxene were back in the staff lounge again, him disinfecting his piercing equipment at the tiny sink by the mini fridge, her, a few steps away, clearing out a cubby for their new coworker.

Axel had told Larxene everything. He usually does. And when he doesn’t, she gives him hell until he wises up and fesses up.

Which is fine. He trusts her. She doesn’t spread his tea around like she might somebody else’s, and her unwanted advice is surprisingly solid, as far as unwanted advice goes.

When Axel stops talking for a minute, she clings to the sides of the stacks of cubbies like she’s fighting to hold herself up. “You are such an idiot I physically cannot stand it.”

Maybe not that straight.

“I’m sure Demyx will stop them from doing anything too crazy,” he insists.

Axel is not sure of this at all, but he’s not desperate enough to bug Luxord to come in when he no longer owes Axel a favor. That’s how you end up owing Luxord a favor. And that’s how you end up mostly naked flipping burgers on a yacht for some bachelorette, while your buddy hosts casino night below deck.

Or so he’s heard.

“I’m not talking about Demyx. Although,” Larxene chews on the thought, “you’re probably wrong about that too.”

“So, give me some advice then.” If she has any ideas on placating Saïx or getting Vanitas’ toes on the line, he’s all ears.

“Hm,” she pretends to consider. “Um, fire Roxas and Vanitas like you should have done in the first place?”

“Useful advice.”

“Alright. Stop tormenting the new kid, so you can get your skinny butt to work on time.”

Axel suspects she’s just upset that they got lectured by Marluxia. Axel usually doesn’t drag her down with him. Then again, she usually isn’t the one who broke the rules.

“I was going to leave on time, Larx, but you didn’t see him.” Axel musses his hair. “I couldn’t just go.”

He can still picture Roxas, slumped over a box of earrings, back in zombie mode. “He gets this sad, vacant expression like he’s been through something…” He shakes his head, feeling something tiny in his chest compress. “And between Vanitas, Lex, and Saïx, he kind of has. I had to try to cheer him up, y’know, make him feel welcome.” He stares at the ceiling for a second, voice quiet and wry, “Can’t count on anyone else to do it.”

“Right,” she sasses, pausing in her work to turn on him, hand on popped hip, “and how d’you think that went?”

“Hm? Think I overdid it.” He grins—he can’t not grin. “He got a little…flustered.” His equipment jabs at his hand and he glances down to refocus, lip still quirked up. “Was absolutely adorable, though.”

“You’re a douchebag.”

Well, it’s not Thursday if she doesn’t tell me that at least three times.

She slaps her hand against the white wood of the cubbies. “New advice: Stop talking to the new kid altogether.”

“It’s called being friendly,” Axel counters, slowly. “You could try it some time.”

She jeers, her green eyes fixing on him as he rubs his equipment down with a soft rag soaked in an alcohol solution. “Your definition of cheering someone up is flirting with them.”

He wants to deny it completely, but she’s not exactly the first to tell him so.

Liquid trickles down his arm, and he uses the rag to clear it up, slow circles, considering the words he traded with Roxas. “Maybe, a little,” Axel concedes with a small smile. “He didn’t seem to mind.”

Larxene dumps an armful of somebody’s shit in the pink-pearl-hued trash bin Xigbar donated to them on Demyx’s behalf. Papers, deodorant, candy wrappers, and a handful of the origami stars Naminé made fall in. Axel hopes they’re not his.

“Did you touch him?”

He doesn’t glance up. “Probably.”

“Axel.”

Their eyes meet. “Only a couple times.”

“So, yes. Did you tell him he was pretty?”

He returns his attention to the sink. “I—not exactly.”

“So, yes.”

“No. Larxene…” Cleaning fluid splashes the wall as Axel jerks the bottle too hard. “It’s fine.”

“You don’t know what it was like for Roxas,” she accuses, sneering, brushing off her hands above the bin and stepping closer. “What if he didn’t like it?”

“He liked it.” Axel rolls his eyes. “Trust me.”

“Then what if you gave him the wrong idea?”

Axel shakes his head, vaguely miffed, one palm bouncing up, “That I want to spend time with him?”

“You know I’m all for playing the field, but you’re dating Saïx,” she annunciates in that shrill way she has.

“Which means I can’t just ‘spend time with’ somebody? You’re starting to sound like Xigbar,” he teases, not as gently as he means to, but still, with a smile.

Larxene winces at this particularly low blow. She and Xigbar are too alike to get along at all—unapologetically stubborn, willful, profane.

“It’s not like that.” His towel is dripping cleaner and he twists it. “Roxas knows I’m seeing somebody.”

“Saïx is not just somebody, Axel. He’s Roxas’ boss. And boy doesn’t like to share his toys.”

He rings his towel harder, Saïx’s bracelet sliding down his wrist. “I know.”

He thinks of Marluxia. Just because Saïx hadn’t fired Vexen for hitting on a tipsy, flirty Axel like everyone seems to think he did, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have gladly done so.

She glares at Axel haughtily as she pitches a final paper star into the trash, like she’s not yet convinced.

Axel sighs in concession. “Okay, okay, okay, like I said, I overdid it,” his head tilts, smile tight, “but it worked, alright? Roxas was happy. I made him happy.” He stops smiling. His green eyes can pierce souls too. “I’m not gonna apologize for that.”

“You wanted my advice.” She grabs a Sharpie from the cup on the desk beside the cubbies and points it toward Axel, capped marker jabbing the air emphatically, like a throwing knife. “When this blows up in your face, I’m going to be the one with the margarita and the big old sign saying ‘I told you so.’”

He wonders if she might be right. Again, he thinks about the weeks of silence that greeted him when he got Vexen sacked. He doesn’t want that, not from Roxas. Or worse, he doesn’t want Saïx turning on Roxas if he thinks they’re spending too much time together.

He’s got to get in front of all this. Spin the narrative in his favor. Get Saïx on board with his new buddy. Get Roxas out of his slump. “It might help if Roxas believed me when I told him the truth.”

“Well, you and Saïx ain’t exactly a matching set.”

“How long did it take you to figure out?” Axel asks without looking at her, although his equipment hasn’t needed its past three rub downs. She doesn’t answer and he glances up. “That Saïx and I are together, I mean.”

The Sharpie she’s taken to the new employee label halts mid letter. It takes her a long moment to answer.

“I’d been at Hot Topic for maybe a day or two. Saïx was in the middle of teaching me some register bullcrap and you walked in. He froze up for a second. That was strange by itself, he’s usually so put together and customer friendly. He barely looked up, said, ‘Be with you in a minute.’

“But you completely ignored that, walked right up behind the counter and put these nice aviators with the tags still on ‘em on his forehead while he was talking. He shut up again and you said, ‘Beach later?’ And I just stood there waiting for him to chew you out, like, who the hell did you think you were to talk to Saïx like that? But he cracked and gave you this gag-worthy, million-dollar smile. Thumbed the sunglasses and said, ‘Yes, alright.’ And you said ‘Alright’ and smiled like you got away with something, and then you left. He was in a freaking sunshiny mood for the rest of the day.”

It all sounds vaguely familiar. They were Saïx’s favorite sunglasses for months until Xigbar took them surfing and a wave swallowed them away. Still.

“Not exactly the height of romance,” Axel mumbles, a brow rising, but he’s smiling again, something softer.

“It didn’t have to be. I could just tell, the way you two, I don’t know, respond to each other. So, if you insist on babysitting the new brat instead of canning him, might wanna come clean before he figures it out himself. I don’t need anyone else fawning all over you, and it sounds like his week’s been crappy enough as it is.”

Roxas. Fawning. Christ. If anyone’s fawning, it’s me.

She doesn’t get it.

I just want to pick up the melancholy little thing and put him on a tall shelf. Maybe a tower.

Someplace high up where nothing bad can touch him. Someplace that’ll make him smile.

Someplace close to the clouds with a salt breeze and a sunset, ocean view.

“Alright,” Axel hears himself say, “I’ll set him straight later.”

Finished clearing out the cubby and penning the label, Larxene turns to him, pale, thin, blonde brows arching. “Later?”

“I’m supposed to meet up with the cuddly-looking little badass after my shift.”

Her brows furrow. “Axel.”

This conversation is starting to exhaust him. Axel wraps up his tools in a dry cloth and glowers. “I’m allowed to have attractive friends, you know. Saïx’s therapist said it was okay.”

Words catch in her throat. Overhead the speakers go silent between songs. He feels like he’s swallowed something with sharp edges.

A new song starts, something upbeat, more One Direction, and the moment passes.

“Yeah, yeah.” Her eyes roll and her elbow jabs his bicep. “Just keep your hands to yourself.”

He manages a smirk. “No promises.”

Larxene smacks his arm, and he raises both hands in self-defense, toning down his grin.

“Alright, alright. I’ll try.”

He holds the door for her and they file out of the staff lounge.

“But he’s just so cute.”

“There you two are.” Marly is already approaching with light, quick steps, arms raised as if he intends to drag them out forcibly if necessary. “Come on to the front for a minute, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

#kingdom hearts #roxas #vanitas #axel #larxene #saix #organization xiii #akuroku #akusai #the other day at hot topic #my writing

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chessainthowhisboyfriendthinks · 5 years

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I have tons and tons of Falsettos thoughts that I'm going to word vomit when I get back to where I'm staying so if you're interested watch out for that lol

#falsettos #falsettos tour

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reesewestonarchive · 6 years

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“Anything for hangovers?” His mouth is dry and tastes terrible, his throat burns with acid and unshed tears, and his head pounds.

He thinks about heading back to his parents’ to get his car, in the morning, and wants to throw up again.

He’d meant the question rhetorically, but Nakoa clears his throat. “Greasy food. Could raid the fridge, I guess. Order a pizza?” Ryan gags at the thought of eating, and Nakoa grips the back of his neck tightly to hold him steady. “Antacid. Start the ibuprofen early. And, uh.” He hesitates. Ryan wonders how much ibuprofen he can take, safely, before it’ll start eating holes in his stomach.

“And?”

“I could sing to you.”

Ryan blinks. Nakoa doesn’t sing. Not… not sing-sing, anyway. He sings Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera in the shower, and falsettos during Queen songs, but even that only happens when he’s high. He’s not high. And it’s not that Nakoa’s bad at singing; he’s fantastic at it. Part of the reason Ryan liked him is because of his voice, low and raspy and real and emotive and, fuck, yeah.

Maybe it won’t help the hangover, won’t help the headache, but Ryan’s not going to tell him no.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a whisper. “Sing.”

A few seconds pass in silence before Nakoa clears his throat and begins. It’s an unsteady start, but Ryan doesn’t care. His voice is low, soft against the lyrics, and somewhere in the back of his mind Ryan knows the song he’s singing, but it’s never sounded better than it does coming from Nakoa’s lips. Tension eases out of Ryan’s body and he closes his eyes, rubs his face against his forearm. Focuses on the swirling colors on the backs of his eyelids and the way Nakoa’s voice echoes on the tile.

Years have passed since the last time Nakoa truly sang for him. The two of them were getting high on the school rooftop in the early hours of the morning one fall. Nakoa sat with Ryan’s guitar in his lap, Ryan pressed against his back, Ryan’s fingers placing Nakoa’s over frets. His lips ghosted over Nakoa’s ear as he explained the chord.

Nakoa’s garbage at instruments, doesn’t have the eye-hand coordination, but the second he strummed out the chord on Ryan’s guitar, the whole world lit up with his smile. Ryan remembers the exact expression on his face when he figured it out, when Nakoa could play the first few chords of the chorus even if they were clunky, off-beat and out of key. He looked so fucking happy, and Ryan feels like an idiot, a bad friend for not recognizing that Nakoa hasn’t been happy for a long time.

What did he miss, Ryan thinks, opens his eyes to watch Nakoa. Nakoa’s eyes are downcast, and his hand stutters rubbing circles into Ryan’s back, but his voice doesn’t break.

The song from that fall morning is the same he’s singing now, low and quiet and in-key and so fitting of Nakoa that Ryan’s entire chest aches with emotion. The lights above the counter halo Nakoa’s head in light like an angel and the side of his face is shadowed with it so Ryan can’t quite make out features, but, like a broken record, Ryan still thinks he’s beautiful. He settles his focus on Nakoa’s lips, watching intently as he forms the words, as he holds notes, as he breathes life into the music.

For the first time in years, Ryan’s fingers itch for his guitar. His entire body feels pulled to creating with Nakoa, accompanying his voice with the song’s chords until it’s something emphatic and human between them.

And then the song ends, and Nakoa’s focus returns to drawing the small circles on Ryan’s back with his palm, and reality returns to Ryan like a rushing train. The dim light in the bathroom suddenly seems blinding. The acidic smell of vomit hangs in the air around them.

The excuse Ryan will use later to explain all of this catches on his lips, and he opens his eyes. Nakoa’s watching him, brow furrowed in worry, and Ryan can’t help himself. “I love you,” he says, and his voice holds steady.

It’s the first time he’s said the words. Probably not the first time he’s thought them, either, but realization hits hard when it hits, and Ryan’s left breathless in the aftermath.

But Nakoa’s lips twitch almost into a smile, and he reaches his hand up to play with the sweat-damp hair at the back of Ryan’s neck. Somehow, Ryan feels chided. “Yeah.” He sounds sad about it. “I know you do.”

#my writing #from the roof of my mouth

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monthofsick · 5 years

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Stomach Bugs Have the Worst Timing: Day 24

Warning(s): mentions of vomit

You have been warned!

Just one more day.

Jax looked at himself in the vanity mirror, the ring lights around the frame dimmed enough to where he didn’t have to squint so much; however the lights only served to make his complexion look simultaneously paler and more flushed. He was pretty sure he was running a fever, if the chills running up his spine despite his heavy dress coat were any indication, and he suspected it had risen a little in the past hours.

He closed his eyes and sank back down in his chair, using the vanity to brace himself on the way down.

It’s the last night of the play, he thought to himself. Just another hour or two and you’re free to go.

Sure, Jax could’ve taken the day off and let his understudy take over, but as far as he was concerned the guy couldn’t recite his lines to save his life. Besides, the costume they had for the villain was far too small to fit Andrew—they only had the one fit for Jax, who was barely five feet tall.

Jax leaned forward and held his head in his hands, his eyes still closed. He felt too sick to be preparing for another showing, if he was being honest. The heat radiating off him was being trapped inside the thick material of his costume, and it wasn’t doing his queasy stomach any favors and only made him more aware of the shivers he’d have to hold back to keep his voice for the smooth-talking antagonist steady.

At this point Jax had been a little too distracted in not falling asleep that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a bag being dropped onto the vanity. He jumped a little and looked up to see Brooklyn, a junior in charge of makeup, staring down at him, her forest green eyes and magenta necklace shining in the ring lights.

“Is it already time?” Jax asked dazedly.

“No, but we have about twenty minutes to do makeup and fix final props,” Brooklyn replied as she opened and began digging through her bag. “We don’t need a repeat of Monday’s show, do we?”

Jax snorted as he recalled the “technical difficulties” of opening night. Apparently, the girl playing the maid misplaced the doll used as the baby and they’d wound up using a ball of yarn wrapped in a sweater only to later discover the doll had been softly “crying” in the fireplace for the first two scenes.

“That’s because Amanda would lose her head if it wasn’t attached to her neck,” Jax muttered. He looked up to see Brooklyn practically staring at his face, her brows pinched together. “What?”

“You look really pale,” Brooklyn said, but it sounded more like she was telling herself. “Do you feel alright?”

Jax blinked. “Not really, but I should be fine for tonight,” he said. Brooklyn didn’t seem to believe him. Jax didn’t blame her—he didn’t quite believe himself either.

“Are you sure?” Brooklyn asked. “You’re sitting down and yet you still look like you’re about to faint.”

“I’ll—“ Jax pressed a fist to his lips to stifle an unexpected burp. “I’ll be fine,” he said shakily.

“You’re gonna throw up on stage if you feel as sick as you look, Redwood,” Brooklyn said sternly, her arms crossed. Despite her green eyes, dark skin, and vibrant purple hair, Brooklyn’s firmness always reminded Jax of his adoptive mother. His heart clenched at the sudden feeling of homesickness.

“I’ll be fine,” Jax repeated.

Brooklyn rolled her eyes and opened her makeup bag again. “D’you want full face or just the ridiculous mustache?”

“Jus’ do full face. ‘S the last night, I guess.”

She hummed in acknowledgement and pulled out the foundation shade and brush she used for Jax. Then she squeezed some product and applied it to Jax’s cheek. It felt cold against his heated skin, and he closed his eyes to let Brooklyn continue with the makeup.

“Wow, this looks dark on you today,” she muttered, spreading the foundation out more on the left side of his face. Brooklyn gently moved his face to the side with her fingertips, paused, then pressed the inside of her wrist to Jax’s neck.

“Oh my god, you’re burning up,” she said exasperatedly. “Do you want me to tell Andrew to fill in for you?”

“He probably doesn’t remember his lines anymore,” Jax replied. “I can make it til the end.”

Brooklyn still didn’t look convinced but didn’t argue. “It’s your funeral,” she said, then continued to fix Jax’s stage makeup.

By the time the play’s narrator had introduced the selection, Jax felt awful. His stomach kept him seated near the trashcan as he planned for the worst, and the stage director had been keeping a close eye on him as soon as he’d sat down with a hand on his midsection. He was just glad he had about twenty minutes and a set change before his character was introduced.

As soon as he stood up to go behind the door prop, he immediately regretted it. His head spun and his mouth flooded with sour liquid. He braced himself against the trashcan, spat out a mouthful of bile, and took a long, deep breath. He didn’t pay attention to the stage director swearing under her breath beside him and instead wiped his mouth and moved to his spot to be cued in.

He tripped as soon as he stepped through the door frame but brushed it off for comedic effect. When he was supposed to be monologuing he stumbled over some of his words and might’ve dragged on a little longer than he should’ve. Then when he jumped backwards after seeing the maid lying on the floor, he had to pause to avoid falling on his ass or leaving his stomach on the floor. All with the span of about two minutes.

He felt so grateful when he had to go backstage that his body nearly gave out and he almost sank to the floor beside the door frame. Since he had to be in the same spot the next time he went onstage, he would’ve stayed there had it not been for the fact that the only trash can was on stage right, and he didn’t want to possibly leave a puddle of sick on the center of the stage.

Needless to say, the next twenty minutes backstage and onstage resulted in Jax’s health taking a turn for the worst. He hadn’t brought up anything else since before his first scene, but when he had to put on the dress for the final scene he didn’t think he’d make it to the end of the play.

As he stood behind the door he kept one hand braced against the frame and the other gingerly holding his stomach. When he heard the doorbell sound effect he straightened up as much as he could and stepped through the door opened by the maid’s boss, ‘Ms. Rachelle’.

Suddenly speaking loudly, clearly, and with a falsetto became increasingly difficult. Every step he took was focused on not losing against his sloshing stomach in front of a crowd and not tripping over the skirt whose hemline was beginning to come undone.

Jax and Ms. Rachelle stopped in front of her mother’s chair, and his stomach lurched painfully. He was able to get out maybe five words before his stomach gurgled and he bent at the waist, bringing up a wave of vomit between the two actresses. Both girls carried on their next few lines as if nothing had happened, albeit a little louder than intended, as Jax sank to a crouch and brought up another mouthful of sick on the wooden floor.

He felt his eyes sting with unshed tears and registered a flurry of reactions—startled gasps and murmurs from the crowd; the stage director aggressively whispering “Curtains!” into her headpiece; and the actual sound of the curtains being drawn.

Jax squeezed his eyes shut and took a shuddering breath as tears flooded down his face. God, he really just threw up in front of hundreds of people, didn’t he? The sheer thought of it made his body shake and his stomach clench harder with each sob.

He gagged again and added to the puddle in front of him when he felt someone removing the scarf from around his neck. He opened his eyes to see Ms. Rachelle, now back to her old self of Avalon, with both the ridiculous sunglasses and scarf of his costume. She set them down beside herself before inching forward and brushing his bangs behind his ears.

“You’re boiling,” she said, though she didn’t seem very surprised. “Why didn’t you ask Andrew to fill in?”

Jax didn’t answer. He only shook his head and sobbed. Avalon pushed her robes aside and pulled Jax back to the spot where he’d resided between his scenes; if he was sick there at least the mess would end up in the trash can.

Just when Jax had been seated the stage manager pushed aside the side of the curtain and stepped forward so the crowd could see her.

“Uh, sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re experiencing some… issues at the moment. However if you would please just sit tight we’ll have everything sorted out soon. Feel free to use this time as an intermission of sorts before we can get ourselves back on schedule.”

She stepped backstage again but said nothing towards Jax. “Can someone call the janitor over? Cuz I really doubt one of you guys are gonna step up to the challenge.”

#tw vomit #Ace-writes #stomach bugs have the worst timing #day24 #nov. 24 2018 #novemetober #novemetober 2018 #submission

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lore-a-lie · 6 years

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Chapter 3, Act 6: Our True Selves...

Daily Life

When Kaede woke up the next morning she noticed a tablet on her table, much like the ones from the second motive. But the frame was different, and not like the standard Monokuma tablets either.

The new motive sitting before her parodied the black and white she was used to with tones of sepia, nearly wood-like shades of brown from a cream to a dark umber. Smooth as piano’s cover, with accents of a bright green wherever Monokuma’s would have a red of the same intensity.

She considered waiting until later to view it, but worries about how badly the motive videos turned out quickly drowned out the idea. So, like Angie had pointed out that dreadful night, Kaede chose to risk seeing it by herself first, to see what she’d be dealing with.

But as soon as she started it up the tablet fell from her hands as the world fell out from under her. She was looking at a face she knew all too well.

“Number 42. My name is %@^#^ @%@^@!$*, and if I’m selected I’ll definitely make for a memorable run no matter what role you put me in!”

Kaede could only stare dumbly at her smiling face giving this introduction, the tablet thankfully saved by landing on her bed rather than the floor. But as she continued to watch she couldn’t help but wish it had broken instead, regardless of any consequences she might have faced for it.

“I’m perfect for a Killing Game, I don’t have any faith in humanity,” the girl in an unfamiliar navy sailor suit went on. “That’s what you’re looking for, aren’t you? I can fake an innocent facade easily, and if you wanted me to play a part like Sayaka or Sonia I’d absolutely nail it.”

Huh? What is she talking about?! I’m not- I wouldn’t ever want to be a part of this! And no, that’s wrong! Right? I mean… Maybe not in humanity as a whole, but I like to think I believe in others well enough. I mean if I didn’t then… Then all of these murders and betrayals wouldn’t have hurt so much, right?

“You’ll make tons from merch of me, even if I’m not the one with the best rack. Which let’s be real, I probably am. You have nooo idea how pumped I was to learn I matched the Junko Enoshima in that department!- Ahem, sorry got a bit off topic I guess.” She continued with a bit of a blush at her overzealousness.

Junko Enoshima, first death of the first file found in Shuichi’s lab. So “Sayaka” should mean “Sayaka Maizono” from that file’s first case and Sonia should be “Sonia Nevermind” from the second file right? Nice girls on the surface, but only because those pretty facades were needed for their Ultimate talents.

“What I mean is, guys claim to “fall” for me all the time, as if any of them could ever really mean it. So I definitely know I have the looks to knock ‘em dead in more ways than one. It makes things waaay easier for me too, all it takes is a pout or smile and they practically start begging me to play them like a violin.”

Real or a lie, the things she was hearing was making Kaede’s blood freeze. She didn’t have any memories that lined up to what her living echo was referring to, but she couldn’t be sure that meant this was fake. Even if it was, seeing herself brag about being such a callous manipulator made her question herself more than she’d like to admit. (Is this part of why I could bond with Kokichi? Why everyone trusts me?)

“Speaking of, I’m pretty good at piano, so a musical talent would be a pretty good match for me. Not like Sayaka, Ibuki, Ami, or Yumi you know, just like a focus on a particular instrument. Could make for a good “conductor” pun too, depending on how I’m used~” She winked at the camera for emphasis.

Well, that doesn’t sound good. And more names from other files. But if this is true then what does this mean about my memories of my family? Is everything I remember a simulation to “get” this talent? … Is my Ultimate Talent even really mine? Where else did it come from? How could this me “choose” it? If you could be given talents why would they still matter so much?! What does any of this mean!?

“I’ll show you I have what it takes to win this. Just you wait.” Her living shadow finished with a grin.

And with that the other Kaede Akamatsu faded from the screen, leaving the real Kaede with only a black mirror and her own thoughts. Thoughts that couldn’t stop racing and refused to make any sense as they rushed after any and all possibilities, regardless of how contrary the theories that came up could be.

Kaede’s head ached in the aftermath, and she hoped she wasn’t the only one to have watched their tablet. She needed to have someone to share what she saw with, anyone who could help her make sense of it.

Even as a motive it didn’t make sense at a glance. If it was true, and it proved even her childhood memories could be flawed or compromised, what reason would she have to leave anymore?

So much of it was about pianos, and how it affected her relationship with her parents, her sister, her friends… If being a “piano freak” wasn’t true then what in her life was? What was there to go home to?

But Kaede couldn’t afford to think like that. She had more than herself to consider now. Her friends had lost too much for her to lose faith in escaping this hell. There were no better options.

So, regardless of if the words were fact or fiction, Kaede resolved to prove her other’s words true.

She’d show whoever the sick bastard yanking them around was that she and her friends would beat them.

They had to be getting close to the truth to get a message like this, so at odds with what they seemed to know. Which meant they’re almost there. So she couldn’t let anyone give up just yet.

Kaito nearly missed the screen sitting in his room as he got ready to head to breakfast. Considering the aftermath of the previous “video” motive, he almost ignored it and headed out anyway.

Alas, his curiosity got the best of him.

He took a seat on his little-used chair and turned on the odd brown framed device, bracing for an emotional impact. But the only feeling he got from the footage was confusion, so that hadn’t helped.

Seeing himself looking so confident and arrogant while standing in some sort of gym, wearing clothing he didn’t recognize from any previous memories, nearly made him lose focus and miss what was said. But only nearly.

“Number 343, #@!^* #*#*^@ here! So let me give you guys the low down, listen up and listen good! I’m not just gonna be IN Dangan Ronpa, I’m gonna kill EVERYBODY and win!”

Oh Jesus fucking Christ, talk about whiplash. I mean, what the fuck is he talking about? “Dangan Ronpa”? Is THAT what this fucking game thing is called?! Who the hell do you think you are?! Are you me???

“Yeah, yeah I can hear ya’ll bitchin’ already. “But #@!^*, what about the other contestants? You can’t just wreck their shit like that, you’ll take all the fun outta it if you don’t go a little easy on ‘em.” right?” The bastard mocked whoever he was expecting to complain with a terrible falsetto.

Oh my God since when was I such an asshole?! I mean if it looks like me, and sounds like me, it’s gotta be… wait. Holy shit do I have an evil twin? Or some sort of clone? I FUCKING KNEW IT WAS POSSIBLE! POP LIED TO ME!

“Already got it covered, don’t worry. Just leave everything to me! Make me the mastermind or not, doesn’t matter. I’ll be the badass Izuru DR0 offered us and DR3 screwed us outta seeing in action. Total party kill, no need for a fucking trial. ‘Cause there won’t be bodies to find when I’m through with ‘em.”

… Ya know what? New plan. After I get to space I’ll volunteer to be the first man to be sent back through time, with the sole purpose of punching this fucker’s lights out on the off chance it is a past me.

“Only exception I’m making is if some pretty lil’ thing gets my ignition going. Don’t matter how scared shitless they are, with the dough we’d be rolling in all thanks to me. And with that fame, it’d be easy enough to trade her out with some other sweet little honey if she gets too scream-y or squeamish when she finds out about the truth behind her “heroic knight”. After all, ironic talents are the fuckin’ best.”

So this is what it feels like to be angry enough to murder somebody. Fuck, I feel sick. God, I hope it’s not my symptoms acting up again, this room would already give anyone with some luminol the wrong idea.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the red shirts have their time to show off a little. And nobody, and I mean nobody, is gonna see me coming. Trust me, this is one star you’ll never regret investing in!”

Boy, there’s a lotta bullshit to unpack here. Assuming any of this is true at all, which it probably isn’t. What am I thinking “probably”, It can’t be! And not just because I don’t WANT to believe it either, no matter what Kokichi or the others would like to tease me about. It just genuinely can’t.

I could never be a rising star. I’m a dying one.

There’s no benefit to giving someone a fatal illness if they were willing to sign up for this. It’s not cost effective, simple as that. Even for the “drama” potential if this was a show it just doesn’t make sense.

Unless it was maybe to spite this guy for being such an asshole? Or someone close to him/me if it’s personal? But still, why sink resources into “natural” ways to kill people for a sick killing game show?

Maybe it could be left over from a previous “kill or be killed” motive. MAYBE. Or just to make the flashback videos feel more “real”? Assuming the audience already knows about my condition. I mean I'm not sure how you could hide it from them, since even our rooms gotta be bugged or somethin.

Kaito furiously scratched his head as he leaned forward in hopes of quelling what was hopefully bile rising in his throat. Even if it might not have done his lungs any favors either, much less his stomach. But goddamn if vomit doesn’t seem more “normal” and appealing than that recurring sick taste of iron.

If it’s to help the “setting’s” verisimilitude then why use this motive at all?! Could be a sign that this “audition” is the only thing here that’s been scripted? Except again, they’d know I’d never buy it!

It can’t give me any “false hope”, my body’s giving out too much. I know I don’t have time left. And if I was sick before auditioning, and that was real, then why wouldn’t “I” have pointed out why I needed the money? Did he worry it would be more a hindrance to getting picked? Is that why he wanted “fame”?

No. Even if that bastard was gunning for a quick game in order to get his blood money in time to save himself this isn’t me. They could have swapped him out, but I’m still here despite being on a time limit.

So let’s just focus on the bright side. People are watching this, hopefully some more normal than this implies. Can’t really hope for “most” folks watching a snuff series to be any better than that, can I?

This sick son of a bitch won’t be the “Kaito Momota” that people remember. I am. Hell, this freak might not even have that much in common with “me”, who knows what name was censored for this stunt. Still!

No matter what this place takes from me I’m always me. I’m the Luminary of the Stars that will live on even after this body of mine dies! Watchers know full well the kind of man I am! Hopefully I’m encouraging at least some of them to be the best they can be. Examples to look up to are important. Ideals are important.

I can die here knowing I did my best to live up to mine. Knowing I tried to help everyone else here live the best they could. It’s a man’s duty to help and encourage those around him. To go as far as he’s able to, and enable others to do the same.

Nothing’s changed for me because of this. Maybe I should count myself lucky for that. I don’t need it.

I can’t say the same for everyone else. I don’t know how much messages like this could help or hurt them. Could really help Ryoma, or destroy someone like Kiyo. Those rooted in their “pasts” are at the highest risk here.

I can still be a constant for anyone who needs one for as long as my health can hold out. And if it’s not as long as I’d like it to be, Kaede’ll be there too. She’s strong, there’s no way this motive could break her.

Not with a sidekick like Kokichi to help support her. Not with how much everyone cares about her.

Kaito smiled to himself as he nodded as a show of resolve to the viewers at home. Not that they’d know what he was thinking, but he’d figure it’d be obvious he made his own peace with his conclusions.

He almost considered taking a page out of Kokichi’s book, to look for a camera and even give a little speech to the empty room and hope to god he doesn’t just come across like an idiot. Again. (God, Maki will give me so much shit for that next time I see her. I can practically hear her sniping at me already.)

Instead, he just decided to head to the cafeteria and hope he wasn’t too much later than normal. It’d be pretty embarrassing to be the last one there over something like this. Shouldn’t make any of them worry, he thought.

Schedules help keep people from panicking, and any amount of normalcy helps endure insanity like this.

Besides, it’s not like there was any other way he’d like to spend the rest of his time than how he has been.

Despite his previous experience, the second Ryoma saw a new tablet before him he wasted no time to turn it on. Though as it played he reconsidered his decision, in case it was trying to trigger him again.

But at least this time the contents seemed promising from the get-go. He was wearing some sort of suit. Possibly a blazer style school uniform based on the crooked red tie and what was unmistakably a gym floor behind him.

And most importantly the version of him looking at the camera had nothing but determination in his eyes. A far cry from the ones he had now. And this Ryoma’s first words only sweetened the deal.

“Number 21. My name is &%*#@ #*$#! and I’m auditioning for this game because I know someone important to me is.”

There it was. “Important to him”. Whoever this was, even if it was only an actor, they suggested there might be something left for Ryoma outside the dome he was trapped in. Something beyond prison.

But still, I can’t let myself get my hopes up. This could just be baiting me so that pulling the rug out from under me again will hit as hard as Monokuma wants it to. The second things could start going downhill I’ll stop. Watching this whole thing could be a deadly mistake if videos can really “rewrite” who we are.

“I’m not expecting that to affect either of our chances of getting in too much, since it’s not like the audience would know about us unless you wanted them to, I just couldn’t stand by knowing she was going into this alone. I’m well aware of all the risks here. Just like I’m aware my odds of getting in, either with her or in her place, are probably a little higher because of my look. Gotta have a joke entry, yeah?”

“Joke entry” huh? So what, could my depression be something whoever’s behind this “game” forced on me in hopes I’d be an early death? All things considered, it nearly worked. If they can rewrite memories other forms of brain manipulation might not be so far fetched. Thank god for the idiots that saved me.

Or heck, I’ll even thank “Atua” if it’ll make Angie have a more natural smile for a change. I’m really lucky I got stuck with all of these clingy weirdos. Even the ones I could do without by this point.

“I know my folks’ll be horrified when they find out about this, but honestly? I don’t give a fuck. ‘Least they won’t need to find out I asked for it. Unless the stuff they say on the net about you “kidnapping” potential players for the sake of plausible deniability is a load of crap I guess. Either way, it’s better than the alternative, and if I die then it’ll be my own damn fault. ‘S not like I was able to talk her out of this.”

And that’s all Ryoma needed to hear to turn the video off. He was almost surprised it worked, since Monokuma seemed like the type who’d rig one of these so that if you tried to stop it it’d continue just to spite you. But he wasn’t going to complain or question it. He was more bothered by how numb he felt.

It didn’t matter if anything this motive said was true or not. It was enough. More than enough.

It was everything he had been hoping for the first time the motive videos were announced.

He did have people who cared about him outside of this hell after all. People he could come home to. Hell, the way this was claiming it was an “audition” and that his connection to… Whatever that girl was to him, could be missed by outside “viewers” like he hadn’t killed anybody before entering this game. Just like Angie said about Korekiyo. (But unlike that bastard if I haven’t before I still haven’t now. Maki’s still all his fault even without Kirumi's blood on his hands.)

Girlfriend, sister, crush, or whatever she was, she could even still be out there waiting for him. (Or she might be stuck in here with me. Could be dead already if she was. There’s no way to know for sure yet.)

He didn’t know if the burning ache in his chest was worry, anxiety, or a twisted sense of relief, he only recognized the hope this gave him. Regardless, it was probably a good sign that stopping where he did was a good call for now. No way to know if any of this was true in here, but false hope was better than none.

But if he really hadn’t killed all of those people, if he hadn’t spent so long rotting in jail, if his life wasn’t worth any less than the innocent victims trapped in this cage with him, he wasn’t sure what to feel now.

Should he be any more comfortable with the idea of someone else dying if he could give everything to save them? Would the people who destroyed his self-worth and years worth of his memories pay for this?

Would he ever be able to be normal or “happy”, or were even those memories of better times a lie?

Would whoever still loved him forgive him for everything he’d done? Was he still who they’d want to see?

Did that mean the years of suffering he remembers really meant nothing? That he can’t at least know that while he did the unforgivable over a hundred times over he didn’t even save future victims from the monsters he put in the ground? And where would that leave Maki and her “true enemy”? Or his own?

For now he tried to ignore these questions the best he could. Like how he’d clear his head before a match, if any of that were ever true. Maybe watching more of his video later would elaborate on that.

But Ryoma didn’t need to do that yet. He just had to bring this with him when he went to get breakfast, same as always. If everyone got messages like this then trading notes could be important, and if Kokichi was still paranoid about motives rewriting personalities then not seeing all of his own could be a benefit.

He doubted Kaede’d ever want to see them all together again, but having someone with him would be nice if he tried to continue this video later. Nice to know, or be able to think, he could be worthy of that. Of having friends without his demons whispering all the ways they were wrong to think he was decent.

He couldn’t afford to think like that too much though. He needed to stay focused on his goals. To get his friends out of this alive. To keep Korekiyo from hurting anyone else ever again. And now, to return to his family.

To his parents. People who wouldn’t be ashamed to share his name. Who wouldn’t be looked down on because they raised a murderer. Ryoma couldn’t even remember the last time he was able to see them.

Finding out about the girl that meant more to him than the world could come later. Would come later.

For now, he’d just need to take things as they came. And that meant being prepared to help his friends should any of their videos had worse implications for them than his did.

After all the support he’d gotten from them, it was the least he could do.

When Gonta saw the tablet when he woke up he hadn’t known what to do at first. Angie had told him the motive videos were bad, and the way they had corrupted Kirumi and Korekiyo before was proof of that.

But Kokichi told him it had been for the best that they watched it together, to make brainwashing them less likely than had they seen them alone. And Kokichi had been right more often than Atua had so far. Atua's rules did nothing to save people, but Kokichi's attempts failing at least had human error to defend it.

He could take this straight to Kokichi, to see if he thought watching it together would be a good idea, but he didn’t want to burden his friend any more than he had to. So much of the Killing Game Busters’ work was already resting on Kokichi’s small shoulders just because Gonta wasn’t smart enough to support him.

Kokichi’d never phrase it like that, Gonta was sure. He and Korekiyo liked to say it was a confidence thing instead, since that would be easier for Gonta to fix. But Gonta knew the truth. It was kind of them to lie.

Still, Gonta chose to try and take this burden for himself for now. If the video seemed dangerous he could always turn it off, and if it wasn’t then he could at least try to offer some ideas of his own when he took this to Kokichi to see what in the motive video could be useful.

“Number 156, @*^^@ @*%^#@$@. Let’s cut to the chase,” yet another Gonta said from the other side of the screen. Unlike Kibo’s Mini-Gonta this one looked a lot more like himself, but something felt far more wrong with this one. While it’s easy for intent to get lost when filmed this person’s angry aura was unmistakable. And as uncomfortable as the young man’s uniform looked on him, done up so tight it looked like it could rip and send buttons flying at any moment, Gonta suspected that wasn’t it.

But still why there so many Gontas now? Gonta should be the only Gonta! Unless new Gonta wants to be police Gonta, it be cool if Gonta had twin like that. Like Kaede has twin Kaede. But if new Gontas don’t stop coming, friends might get me-Gonta confused with a not-friend-Gonta! No one want that!

“This is Dangan Ronpa, you’re gonna need at least one guy built like me.” He flexed a bit for emphasis, tearing at some of the seams of his ill-fitting jacket. “I want in. And I’m no softy, got that?”

Hmm. That no sound right. This is very different Gonta, because Gonta definitely softy. Lots of friends tell him so, soft like the squishy fuzzy larva of the Pyrrharctia isabella!... That kinda got confused when making itself a chrysalis to go from woolybear to tiger moth, making it a bit too scary looking. But Kokichi say that still cool! Like a beary-bear mixed with a teddy-bear, perfect for protecting kids!

… Why did Kokichi keep laughing whenever Gonta call himself a bear anyway?

“Viewers always think the big guys are soft and sweet. This time they’ll be wrong.”

Viewers sound like smart people, that is exactly how real Gonta is! Sorry not-soft-Gonta is misjudged.

“I’ll crush them. Those expectations, those hopes, and these participants. I’ll squash them all like bugs.”

… huh?

Squashing… Bugs?

Hurting people?

HOW?! WHY?!

WHY MONSTER LOOK LIKE GONTA?!

“Speaking of bugs, that’s my talent. Don’t care how, but I want bugs. Spiders, centipedes, scorpions, killer bees, fire ants, dung beetles, cockroaches, every creepiest crawly you got.” Not-Gonta smiled, but the expression looked foreign on his face. Not at all like Gonta’s smiles, there was far too much malice to be seen there and there was little doubt that feeling was genuine. Like a predator toying with its prey. “Nature’s perfect little machines. Optimized for everything. Always knowing their place and keeping things going without any complaints.”

I don’t understand. I-I can’t understand! What’s “Dangan Ronpa”? Who is this person?! He’s a terse talker, but his grasp on this language is leagues better than mine. It can't be someone pretending to be me, can it? It'd have to be another Ultimate or something if he was, and not even Tsumugi could manage this I think.

But... It doesn't feel like someone else. He sounds like how I feel when I get too riled up, but that... That can't be right. Emotions don't define how people are! How you handle them is, and I always try to keep control of mine. Even when it gets hard. Because that's what a gentleman should do, to BE a gentle man.

How can he claim that he has a bug talent and want bugs to care for when he doesn’t CARE about them?! Even Korekiyo genuinely loves his studies! This is more like… Like he just likes having power over them. That… That can’t be “love”, right?

What is any of this supposed to mean?

“Guess that’s all I gotta say. So see ya.”

Gonta didn’t know how long it was he sat there, trying to dry his eyes and rationalize what he saw.

All he knew was that he just couldn’t do it. Nothing about it made any sense to him, no matter how hard he tried to process it. He wasn’t smart enough to understand what sort of motive this was.

But Kokichi would be. He always is!

So that’s where he headed, as fast as his legs could carry him.

As the video came to life Kokichi wasn’t sure what to make of it. It was a video of him, obviously, but he was wearing some school uniform he’d never seen before in his life and he was talking up at a camera in a gym or something. The him on the screen felt different though. Nervous. Scared.

He had a bit of a false start at his introduction, but after yelling at some kids who started chanting “Do it, do it!” off-screen to shut up he seemed to get his bearings. Well, he got them better at least.

“N-Number 413. H-hello, my name is #*#!@#! *%^ and I’m only doing this because SOMEONE won’t stop bugging me about it! I-I’m not doing it because I love the show or anything, really.”

… Oh my god. LOOK AT THIS THING! WHAT EVEN IS THIS? IT’S LIKE A LIL’ BABBY BIZARRO ME! Is he even like honestly trying to lie right now? He’s soooo pathetic I can’t even.

“But… Um… Since I am auditioning I would still really want to get in ya’know? J-just for the screen time and the money and stuff! I mean just look at this cute face, audiences would love me!”

Okay, confirming what we already know, assuming this has any truth to it. Which it probably does, since those guys off screen were obviously my guys from D.I.C.E., I’d know those voices anywhere. Finding one sound-a-like might be possible, but nine? Not a chance.

“I can toootally play like the adorable funny best friend sidekick character, and if the theme of this season is going to be “truth vs. lies” I’d be great at that! I’ve always loooved the theatrical mysterious liars in previous seasons, like Nagito and Celeste. Though, I’d rather not be a murderer if I can help it.”

… Yeeeeah, hate to break it to you kiddo but I don’t really think that’s me. Except for the no killing, that’s still me so no worries there. Unless Kaede’s our actual protagonist instead of Discount Kamina or Captain Kibble, in which case maaaybe I could come across like that? Oh fuck wait, did I make myself the sassy gay best friend character type?! I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS! I TAKE IT ALL BACK, I DEMAND RESHOOTS!

“I-I mean… It’d be way too easy to win a killing game like that right? Where’s the fun in that?”

… Not sure I’m okay where this is heading, why’re we going to Joker town? There IS no “fun” in here!

“As far as talents go… Uh… I kinda sorta maybe have kleptomania so Ultimate Thief would be a good fit I think. But I’m practically king of our school’s chess club- God wait, fuck that sounds so fucking nerdy why’d I say that- W-well I mean it’s still true! So Ultimate Chessmaster could also work I guess? Since I’m pretty sure the Ultimate Lucky/Unlucky kids have been waaay overdone. Even if my name would work well for that pun.” He nervously shifted his weight from side to side as if trying to think about how to say what he was really after as a part of this “role”.

Nuh-uh, not being taken in by how adorably dorky you are, you can’t make me fall for my own act kid. You showed your hand, so what’s the fucking catch?

...Ayyy, wait a sec. Mister editor might've missed something here."Kokichi" can be a luck pun, and with my height being a "little lucky" would fit like a dream. So much for censoring "my" name, unless they only kept the reference here because the one I have now still worked for it.

Still, food for thought. They might have scrambled the audition names just to make us extra paranoid.

“Buuuut Ultimate Chessmaster might be a bit too on the nose though if I’m allowed to try for our season’s mastermind spot or anything though, you know? Er, only if that’s okay to ask for at all!”

what

“I-I mean wouldn’t that be a fun twist?! And being a victim would still be totes okay too, or I could fake my death like Junko did after really pulling at the audience's heartstrings by being so lovable all the time.”

This isn’t funny anymore fucko

“I mean I get it if that spot has certain limits applied to it, like duh they’re THE big bad, but I think I could pull it off! But I’d definitely wanna be a REAL mastermind, not some wannabe with amnesia like Hajime was. Well Izuru, same thing. The sort that’s hidden in plain sight that reeeeally makes you wanna rewatch it all again to see what sorta crafty bastard they’ve really been this whole time you know?!”

No. No no no no no. Non. Nein. Nada. Niet. Nope. This isn’t fucking funny you sick fucks!

But it’s also not a lie. He was completely and utterly honest about his intentions. Unless somehow that person could hide what a great liar he is as a fake out or he really isn’t me on some level.

That’s really unlikely though. It’s hard to fake tells without being too obvious, even I have trouble with it. And he definitely had my tremors whenever he starts getting nervous. This has to be real. It’s gotta be.

Kokichi clasped his hands in front of his face as he tried to control his breathing. He tried to process what this motive was trying to tell him as the “audition” ended. God he’s lucky they didn’t watch these things as a group like the first batch of motive videos, he’d be sooo dead. Unless he’s not the only one.

On the plus side this did give some clues about things, assuming any of it can be true. Which… It probably was. Or more of this setting was faker than he thought, since he knew those voices. But it COULDN’T be faker than he thought, Kiyo and his weird deal with his sister proved that already! Unless there’s some way to fake a guy magically growing and losing boobs on a dime that he doesn’t know about yet. (If it does exist I’m not sure if I want to slap the person responsible for being gross or shake their hand for it having both practical and hilarious potential. Maybe I’d just high five them while wearing a joy buzzer.)

This is some sort of show or game. People know about it and like it enough to willingly sign up for this shit. They might not know how real this is though, they might think it’s like reality TV or something. Hopefully that’s what they think it is, and they’re not talking like deep web red room shit or anything like that.

Masterminds change for each game, or this “season” with how he mentioned rewatching it like that, or at least this one needed to have someone new take the reigns. Some previous masterminds are people named “Junko” and “Izuru”, though the latter played in his or her game as “Hajime”. Deaths in this game can be faked, or they could in previous seasons. Memory alteration has also appeared in past games.

Wait. Hajime? As in Hajime Hinata? From the second of the 52 case files. Are these things acting as the motives now just because Shuichi’s lab already touched on some of this information? Interesting. There might have been a Junko in the first too, but if she was a mastermind that data was expunged. Izuru definitely didn’t come up in the second or sidenotes, so that could be standard procedure. Moving on.

“Talents” are a part of this game, so the Ultimate Hunt stuff was probably just this season’s “backstory”. This likely tied into how the flashback lights work. But flashback lights can’t completely change who you are, even if they can mess with most of you. This Kokichi talks like he does, but doesn’t think like him.

How much of these auditions reflect the actual people they used to be is unclear. This Kokichi’s a terrible liar to be certain, and not just in a Holden Caulfield slang sorta way, but these are still just auditions. Everyone has to be prepared to show off some sort of persona if they want to be picked for these things.

… But what can he do with any of this information? He can’t risk showing anyone this video, obviously. Not even Kaede or Gonta. He’s not that stupid. Not unless maybe he can watch theirs first. If everyone “wants” to be the mastermind in these it won’t be so bad. As unlikely as that case may be if they’re real.

If these were faked then of course they’d all claim they wanted to be the bad guy, the star of the show. But in reality, they’d only need so many people gunning to fill a particular niche in the game’s formula. Killers, victims, leads, rivals, survivors, and all the smaller audience grabbing archetypes in between.

At least Kokichi knew what his desired role was. And he knows that’s not who he is anymore. He doesn’t know who the person he was used to be, but they’re “dead” now. Kokichi Oma isn’t, and that person’s not coming back on his watch. He’s not planning on going out without putting on one hell of a show.

One bad enough that this whole goddamn genre would crash and burn.

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#New Danganronpa V3 #ndrv3 #ndrv3 spoilers #drv3 #drv3 spoilers #drv3 fanfiction #fanfic #multi chapter #multi pov #original motive #fan auditions #kaede akamatsu #kaito momota #ryoma hoshi #gonta gokuhara #kokichi ouma #back route

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spikycharlotte · 7 years

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:0 all of them

y’all better strap in

four jews in a room bitching / what’s your favorite stereotype for your religion?

haha i don’t really identify with one in particular? so i’m not sure.

a tight-knit family / who do you consider family?

i for sure believe “blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.” while i do have family members whom i do love and am proud to call family, i don’t think the question is calling for that.

my best friends are like family to me, and i’d do anything for them. i also have a mentor/teacher, and he and his wife are like second parents to me.

love is blind / what makes a healthy relationship?

C O M M U N I C A T I O N ! ! ! you should NEVER be lying to your s/o!! and if your s/o does something you’re not comfortable with/makes you upset, TELL THEM! you shouldn’t be stewing, but also don’t enter the conversation angry and accusatory. and on the flip side, if your s/o comes to you with something you did, LISTEN TO THEM. apologize and explain yourself, even if it was just a misunderstanding! avoid becoming defensive.

the thrill of first love / what’s something you’d kill for?

answered here!

marvin at the psychiatrist / do you ever feel like no one is listening to you when you talk?

i used to feel this way all the time, but i’ve recently become comfortable with saying, “excuse me, i was speaking” when i’m spoken over. also i find myself in lots of leadership positions in my day-to-day, so i’m pretty good at making myself heard.

my father’s a homo / could you/would you want to be president?

the idea (a loud, genderqueer, butch lesbian with the conscience to do the best for others) sounds great, but i’m not the person that fits that description to be president. i’m infj, so i’ve got the teacher personality, and that’s what i want to do!

everyone tells jason to see a psychiatrist / do people nag you consistently about something? if so, what?

this is such a #relatableteen answer but my room is a goddamn mess and my mom nags me on the daily to clean it (something i never do)

this had better come to a stop / what’s something people do that infuriates you?

i talked about this a little bit, but when people come to me with relationship issues and the issue could resolved so easily if instead of coming to me and telling me, they just went to their s/o. a problem cannot be resolved through outside sources.

i’m breaking down / what makes you crazy/pushes you over the edge?

answered here!

please come to our house / what was the last thing you did to help someone?

ummm to fit with the “therapy” theme of this the other night i helped a friend when she needed to vent about some crappy home things.

jason’s therapy / what’s the worst advice you’ve ever been given?

i resent this question being with this song!!! i think mendel’s “feel alright” advice (while flawed) at its core is actually kind of pure and good! of course the way he gives it is bad (ignore your problems!)

but worst advice i’ve ever been given was i asked a friend towards the beginning of my last relationship if i should continue it and she said i should, and it ended much later and i was very unhappy throughout most of it. so that was pretty shitty. (i now have a very wonderful girlfriend who is currently having me answer all of these questions :-))

a marriage proposal / how would you want to be proposed to?

actually something very similar to how mendel does it! something private and lowkey, and just having someone word vomit their love for me sounds very cute and endearing.

however i always thought of myself as the one who would propose, so there’s that

a tight-knit family (reprise) / are you satisfied with what you have in life, or do you want more?

well as a student in high school it’s kind of hard to be satisfied, because there’s so much i want to do but i can’t as my student-ness prevents me from doing so.

but considering my place in life, i think i am quite happy!! i have a great gf, great friends, and i’m kind of excited for this school year!

trina’s song / what’s the worst interaction you’ve had with the opposite gender?

every interaction i’ve ever had with a male human being ever in my life. i could go on and on. but one that comes to mind is how one time a dude went on this huge rant during a teacher’s lecture about freud’s psychosexual theories about how homosexuality is an unnatural choice, all while continuing to glance at me to make sure he got his desired reaction

march of the falsettos / who’s the most immature person you know, and why?

um i know plenty, but the worst are some of my younger very intelligent female friends who are more focused on their boyfriends than their academics, which while i love and support them infuriate me to no end.

trina’s song (reprise) / have you ever settled for something better than you’d expected, but not as good as you’d hoped?

while this worked out for trina, as she soon would realize that mendel would be as good as she hoped, settling for less than you hope is never a good thing.

i’ve always thought this, so i can’t really think of any examples

the chess game / what’s the most petty thing you’ve ever done?

perfect question for this song, op.

i’ve done a lot of petty things in my life, bc i think everyone does. very recently though a girl was annoying the hell out of me trying to get me to tell her the answers for our summer hw and i gave her the entirely wrong answers.

making a home / how different are you in public than in private?

my personality is very much the same, but i’m obviously more in public. i don’t swear as much. and in private i talk to myself and sing loudly all the time which doesn’t make much sense to do in public

the games i play / do you ever wish you were doing more than you currently are?

constantly. i’m in high school so my options are grossly limited. i’m super excited to go to college and begin my teaching career. i just really want to help people!!

marvin hits trina / have you ever hated someone for being happy?

before i was in a better place like i am now, i really resented my best friend for getting a boyfriend for a while. but now i’m fine and very happy for the both of them.

i never wanted to love you / have you ever liked something you knew was bad? have you stopped?

um in middle school i liked sup/erwhol/ock despite the problematicness of them all (the other two more so than d/octor w/ho), if that’s what this means.

father to son / what is your relationship with your parents?

i love my mom a lot, she’s great. she had me in high school, and my bio dad split when he found out i existed, so i’ve never met him, but i also have no interest in doing so. i love my (step) dad a lot, but our relationship is kind of strained bc i don’t think he fully understands my being gay (even though he’s not rude or anything about it)

falsettoland/about time / do you use labels?

i actually quite like labels ? i like legitimizing my identity by finding out that other people feel the same way, and therefore have worked to put a name to it.

that’s also why i kind of like the femme/butch scale even though it was initially a joke, bc it acknowledges that not every lesbian is lipstick OR stone butch, and idk i kinda like it. but i do hate when nonlesbians ,,,,,, use it ,,,,,,, to describe lesbians,,,,, bc,,, it’s not for them…..

year of the child / when was the last time everything was about you?

idk prob my birthday parties… i don’t like being the perfect center of attention, i feel uncomfortable

miracle of judaism / what’s the last significant decision you had to make?

oh geez idk. i don’t make a lot of those… i can’t think of one right now.

the baseball game / do you play/like sports? which ones?

i do not like them really… i like badminton tho… that’s more of an activity and not a sport though

a day in falsettoland / what’s your daily routine like?

during the summer, i wake up and fart around on the internet, unless i have somewhere to be. all the while texting maggie all day

everyone hates his parents / what was the last thing your parents did that pissed you off?

my mom is a really bad backseat driver. like swearing and anger is her brand of backseat driving. so it makes me super anxious and angry hearing someone constantly bitch while i’m trying to drive

what more can i say? / are you in love? have you ever been in love? what is it like?

answered here!

something bad is happening / do you get frustrated when you don’t know something?

yes i do. its a problem, especially as i’m on academic team

more racquetball / are you a sore loser/winner?

yes yes yes. mariokart comes to mind in particular. if i lose it was lagging or too many items were unfairly sent my way, or if i win everyone else sucks and i’m the best

holding to the ground / how do you react when things don’t go as planned?

i’m not the best. i’m a huge control freak, so when things don’t work out perfectly i freak out

days like this / are you an optimist, a pessimist, or a realist?

i think i’m like an.. optimistic realist? like i’m a realist, but with that i’m more likely to say “the worst case scenario is this, so at least that’s not happening”

canceling the bar mitzvah / how do you react under pressure?

i get stressed, but i also get my work done, so good and bad

unlikely lovers / do you have any friends who are extremely different from you?

yeah, a lot actually! i have one friend who listens to hard core rock stuff and has a bunch of piercings and has never listened to a musical in her life and i also have friends super into gymnastics and cheerleading and stuff. i love my friends!!

another miracle of judaism / if you could have anything right now, what would it be?

maggie, next to me

something bad is happening (reprise) / have you ever had to deliver some really bad news? how did it go?

i had to explain to someone the oak/great comet drama, which was not fun. but i don’t think i’ve ever had to break super terrible bad news, especially not like what charlotte had to tell her best friend

you gotta die sometime / are you afraid of dying/death?

i don’t know…? the idea of nothingness is for sure daunting

jason’s bar mitzvah / what was the last big event you attended?

the other day i went to the first practice of the year for academic team! theres a lot of us and we had pizza and played and whatnot

falsettoland (reprise) / what do you want your legacy to be?

i just want people to remember me as someone who did their best to help others

#this took #literally forever #but it was super fun #me #asks #i love u maggie :0 #spikycordelia #long post

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