#people die as if she's not in the death games. should somebody tell her she's in death games

[butterflieswhisper]

i was genuinely planning to watch more of ratastrophe tonight but i started it, got to "[you whispered to unidingo: please don't die out there yet] I think their hunt is more successful if i'm not there" and my phone case literally fell apart in my hands. so.

[slashmagpie]

“Pearl? Why are you in my house?” 

Pearl blinks up at Bdubs from where she’s sandwiched between the wall and the waterstream, curled up on herself in the narrow space. “Somebody destroyed all the lights in my base and now it’s full of mobs,” she says bitterly.

“It wasn’t me!” Bdubs cries, raising his hands.

“Well, I didn’t think it was you, but the way you just said that’s making me think—”

“No! I’d never! I swear!”

“...I believe you,” she says after a moment, and Bdubs feels himself relax. “Can I stay with you tonight? I don’t really feel like…” She gestures in the direction of her house.

Bdubs nods. “Oh, sure, for sure,” he says. Then, “Should we invite Joel over? His house got blown up too.”

“Ah, yeah, probably. Good idea, Bdubs.” She fumbles in her pocket for her communicator, eventually fishing it out. The screen is cracked. Her fingers shake as they tap against the glass. 

“Are you okay there, Pearl? You look a little…” Bdubs forces his hands to tremble. 

She glances up at him, face scrunching in confusion, before she lets out a small laugh. “Just the adrenaline, y’know.” She grins. “I’m red. It’s great.” 

“If it was anyone else, I’d think they were being sarcastic. But with you! With you, I’m pretty sure you’re being serious!”

She giggles, hitting send on the message and shoving her communicator away. Bdubs doesn’t feel his own buzz; it must have been a whisper. “You know,” she says after a moment, “I’m a little surprised.”

Bdubs blinks. “Surprised about what?”

“That there’s still three of us.” 

He laughs. “Yeah, I’m a little surprised, too! I thought for sure Joel would die today. For sure.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Oh, no, never. But between you and me… that guy’s kind of a loose canon!” 

She snorts. “Throwing stones from glass houses, there, Bdubs?”

“Surely I don’t know what you mean.”

“Mhm.” She pauses, eyes glancing down to where her fingers pick at a stray thread on her hoodie sleeve. “That’s kinda what I mean, though. Joel doesn’t live here, and you’re making friends with half the server, I’m surprised I’m not spending tonight alone.”

“Pearl…”

“What?” She snorts. “I know how these games go, Bdubs. People don’t stay loyal. Not for long, anyway.” She glances up at him, eyes half obscured by her hair. “People like Joel, people like you? I know how this ends.”

And Bdubs—

Well, he can’t pretend he doesn’t know what she means. Can’t pretend he doesn’t remember Impulse yelling as Bdubs’ arrow had found home in his throat. Can’t pretend he doesn’t remember Etho backing away when Bdubs had tried to get just a little too close. Can’t pretend he didn’t fight when he promised he’d run. Can’t pretend he hadn’t taken advantage of his broken home. 

…He can’t pretend he doesn’t remember telling Martyn about their plans, or planning to do harm to Etho. Can’t pretend he doesn’t cross his fingers behind his back every time he makes a promise, just in case.

But at the same time, he remembers—searching for Cleo in a castle she’d been too dead to return to, pushing Lizzie to her death for a life he’d never received, taking two hands in his own and vowing to face the end as four instead of two, for once, for once in his life, choosing three and being pulled apart because of it—

Bdubs lets out a breath. “Pearl, hey, no,” he says. “I told you, didn’t I? I’m your weapon.” He gets down to his knees, lowers his head before her, feels her gaze burn into the top of his head.

“Bit late for that,” she says. “I’m my own weapon now, mate. Don’t need you to attack for me anymore.”

“Well, no—but—” He looks up at her. “Pearl. I’m yours. I promise.”

“Right. And you’re Martyn and Etho’s too, huh? We can share.”

“I’m using Martyn!” he protests. “That’s—that’s all it is—I’m usin’ him because he’s the first red and he knows his stuff! And Etho—”

“I don’t mind about Etho,” Pearl interrupts. “Like I said, I know you guys have your little thing going on. I don’t care about that.”

“I set a trap in his base,” Bdubs blurts.

Pearl blinks at him. “Excuse me?”

“I set a trap in his base. Tripwire hook.” He grins. “Right outside the bedroom. I—I think I got Grian, in the end? But—could have been Etho. I coulda—could’ve been Etho.” He swallows.

“And you’d have been okay with that?” Pearl asks, smile gone from her face, expression suddenly very serious.

“I—after I set it, I went up to them. Had a chat. Lied the whole time. I coulda—coulda told him. I didn’t.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” she stresses.

She sounds dubious. Bdubs can’t blame her. He feels sick, swallowing back the bile that’s building in his throat.

“I—Pearl.”

“Bdubs?”

“I learned my lesson, Pearl. I learned—don’t put all your eggs in one basket! Because—because either they die, and then you get left alone, or—or it gets you killed, and you die. You gotta—I have two hands. I can be loyal to multiple people. But then I learned—when you do that? People aren’t loyal back. They don’t trust you anymore. Nobody else…” He laughs. “I feel like I’m the only one who can trust people like that anymore!”

“So…” She frowns. “So you’re making friends with everyone so you don’t get betrayed or left alone?”

“Exactly.” 

“And you know none of us are gonna trust you for doing that.”

He swallows again. “Yeah, I know.”

“And you’re doing it anyway?”

“Well, what else—what else am I supposed to do? I can’t… I can’t go back, Pearl. That’s… I can’t go back. You know how it is.”

“…Yeah,” she says quietly. “I’m—I want you to win, Bdubs,” she says. “Out of everyone—I want it to be you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So… You better not make me regret this.”

He blinks at her. “Regret what?”

She bows her head to him. “I’m your weapon,” she says, an echo of his earlier words. “And a bit more of a dangerous one at that.” Her smirk leaks back into her words as she glances up and winks at him. “So use me well, alright, Bdubs? I want you to win this.”

Bdubs’ heart is in his throat. He swallows it back down. It burns.

“I’ll do my best,” he promises. 

The door slams open, startling them both out of their skin.

“Hey guys—uh. What are you doing?”

“Oh, for—Judas Priest, Joel, learn to knock!”

“You invited me over! Or, Pearl did—hey Pearl.”

“Hey,” Pearl says. “Come on in! Sleepover at Bdubs’ time.”

“I can’t believe this is the last of our bases left standing. It’s, like, the worst one.”

“Hey!” 

“There’s no space in here!” To punctuate his statement, Joel slumps down against one wall, kicking Bdubs in the ribs as he does so. Bdubs grunts. “See?”

“It’s definitely not the most spacious…” Pearl acquiesces.

“Anyway. What were you guys doing before I came in?”

“Swearing loyalty,” Bdubs says. 

“Oh.” Joel blinks. “Do you need me to do that? Because I’m a Mounder for life. Loyal to the end.”

Bdubs and Pearl glance at each other.

“Somehow I actually believe him,” Bdubs stage-whispers, and Joel squawks in offence as Pearl barks out a laugh.

“No, I think you’re good,” she says. Leaning her head back against the wall, she says, “This is probably our final night.”

The three of them are quiet for a moment.

“Well,” says Joel. “We gotta make it to the end then, don’t we?”

He’s looking at Bdubs. They’re both looking at Bdubs. 

Bdubs nods.

“May the best Mounder win,” he says solemnly.

Joel grins.

[cousmemes]

dialogue starters from DOCTOR WHO SEASON 9. feel free to edit for context / continues under the cut.

"Why do you always assume I'm lying?"

"An enemy's just a friend you don't really know yet."

"Wherever you go, there are people who care enough to find you."

"Anyone can hide from an enemy. No one from a friend."

"I did something wrong. I let somebody down when I should have been brave enough and strong enough to do better."

"You do realise you're still an idiot."

"Are you any good with a broadsword?"

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Just don't run."

"He doesn't know we're here, does he?"

"When do I not see you?"

"Nobody dies here. Not one person, not one of my friends, do you understand?"

"You want to know how dangerous I am?"

"Is that supposed to frighten me?"

"If she is really dead, then you'd better be very, very careful how you tell me."

"What am I even looking for?"

"They don't have much respect for you, do they?"

"I'm so glad you didn't have to see that."

"I'm your friend. I'm your friend!"

"You know what? I've just had a very clever idea."

"How long do you think it's been down here?"

"What's wrong? You're not happy. Why aren't you happy? Tell me."

"Wait, wait. I don't think they're going to hurt us."

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Do you know what you need? You need a hobby."

"Where have you been? Everyone's been looking for you."

"We're coming back, aren't we?"

"I'm fine, by the way, in case you were worried."

"We need to get there. It's our only way out."

"You're sure they're not going to hurt us?"

"You seem to know an awful lot about me."

"I'm asking what I should say to you."

"I'm not ready yet. I don't want to think about that. Not yet."

"You didn't try very hard to stop her, though, did you?"

"You can't cheat time."

"No one is coming to save you."

"You're always talking about what you can and can't do but you never tell me the rules."

"We're time travellers. We tread softly. It's okay to make ripples, but not tidal waves."

"I had a dream you'd all died. It was so real, I thought I'd made it happen."

"There's nothing to fear, strange maiden."

"What's the one thing that gods never do? Gods never actually show up!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you afraid."

"I have no reason to fear you."

"Not every misfortune that befalls us is down to you."

"We're not cowards. We do not run."

"Stay. You could help us. I know you could."

"A good death? Is that the best we can hope for?"

"I've got a hobby, thanks. It's you, by the way."

"Every time we do something like this, I keep thinking, what if something happens to you?"

"What do you think our chances are tomorrow?"

"I cannot keep you safe. I do not have the strength. But I will try to till the last beat of my heart."

"I'm sick of losing people."

"Look at you, with your eyes, and your never giving up, and your anger, and your kindness."

"One day, the memory of that will hurt so much that I won't be able to breathe."

"I do it for the adventure. Isn't that what life's all about?"

"Now is not the time to be showing off."

"How many people have you lost?"

"Why should I be responsible for you?"

"You're not like this. I know you're not."

"This is what you made of me."

"Did you miss me?"

"What's going on here? Fun and games?"

"I'm a friend. I've come to help."

"Don't do this. You know it's me. Don't let them trick you."

"I love you. I forgive you and I love you."

"You're talking nonsense to distract me from being really scared."

"You see, that's the problem. I am a brilliant liar. How are you ever going to know?"

"So, you must have thought I was dead for a while. How was that?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding? Is this a kidding face?"

"Is that your answer for everything?"

"Oh, admit it. I totally saved your life."

"What were you doing last night?"

"There is no nice way to say you're about to die."

"You enjoyed that way too much."

"You were upset, weren't you?"

"They look at me as if they want to kill me themselves."

"I did this to save you, you silly thing."

"Why do they always run?"

"So this is your life, then? Just bouncing around saving people?"

"Oh, she is the worst. I love her. Take that how you like."

"I swear, I never meant for anyone to get hurt."

"What were you thinking? Sacrificing yourself?"

"I can do whatever the hell I like."

"You've read the stories. You know who I am. In all of that time, did you ever hear anything about anyone who stopped me?"

"I did this, do you hear me? I did this. This is my fault."

"Listen, if this is the last I ever see of you, please, not like this."

"No. This - This isn't happening. This can't be happening."

"Why can't I be like you?"

"You're going to be alone now and you're very bad at that."

"Don't let this change you."

"Don't go. Stay with me."

"This is as brave as I know how to be."

"I know it's going to hurt you but, please, be a little proud of me."

"I can't keep doing this. I can't! I can't always do this! It's not fair!"

"You are not the only person who ever lost someone. It's the story of everybody. Get over it."

"Nothing's sad until it's over. Then everything is."

"Is this a story or did this really happen?"

"Isn't this going a little far?"

"I'll try not to break your jaw."

"Please, I don't want this."

"Look at me again. In the eye. Look at me. Just do it."

"Tell me what they did to you."

"People like me and you, we should say things to one another."

"You really are thick, aren't you?"

"You don't seem surprised to see me."

"I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Nobody's ever safe. I've never asked you for that. Ever."

"These have been the best years of my life and they are mine."

"So what happens now? Hey? Me and you, what do we do now?"

"Why don't we just fly away somewhere?"

"I don't think I could ever forget you."

"No. Stop it. You're saying goodbye. Don't say goodbye!"

"Run like hell, because you always need to. Laugh at everything, because it's always funny. Never be cruel and never be cowardly. And if you ever are, always make amends."

"I didn't mean to do this. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Why does everybody think I am so scared?"

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

In your opinion which of the Endless do you think has the hardest job and why?

short answer? death

slightly less short answer - either death, dream, or none of them, depending on the angle you're looking at it from

long answer... they're all perfectly suited to the task they were made for, so in the sense of physical ability, none of their jobs are difficult. which means difficulty can only be measured by emotional toll. and that's not really based on the job so much as it is on how much they care

the big thesis in sandman is that life = change. that's an equation that cuts both ways, and a theme that runs through almost every character. the endless, as the fundamental aspects of life, all have power over something that can change people, right to their core

and that's a huge responsibility, which they all have their own ways of coping with

we never learn that much about how it affects destiny or despair, but death had a huge character arc to go through (everything she says in the show is originally in a winters tale, as well as the fact that she stopped collecting souls, because it was getting to her too much - until she realised that was doing more damage), so now she copes by finding meaning and purpose in it, by befriending everyone she comes to take, by living in some ways a human life of her own

desire ignores it, and tells themselves that mortals don't matter to them, so why should they care who gets hurt? they turn it all into a big game and they don't let themselves think about it for even a second, because if they did it would destroy them (the narration tells us this at the end of dolls house)

destruction didn't cope with it, he left, and refuses to let there ever be another destruction of the endless

and del... just observes it. she accepts the difficulty and the responsibility, and sees it with a lot clearer eyes than her siblings. and sometimes that means she's the most fit to cope with it. other times it breaks her too, and that's when she gets her bad days

the reason i list dream as a possible option here, is because dream is not coping. he's trying to do everything his siblings do at once and none of it is working for him. he can't be desire, because he cares too much about mortals to ignore and laugh at them. he can't be death because he doesn't see himself as someone with a life, just someone with a job - that has to come before everything else. he can't be destruction because again, he values his purpose more than his happiness, leaving is inconceivable. and he can't be delirium because that would require him to see the world as it really is - and his nature runs fundamentally contrary to that

so that could be why dream. but this could also be why none of them - because that's not really the job that's hard, so much as it's not working for dream specifically. if he was somebody just slightly different, he'd be able to handle it a lot better

(the other reason i might consider dream is the vortexes - we don't see enough of the other endless to know if this is something they have to deal with (or something similar), it might be, so this might not be a dealbreaker? but it's definitely not easy for dream, overture goes into that plenty, he viscerally hates the idea of killing people, it goes against everything he is, and yet he has to, or the entire universe will die. and that's a tough responsibility to have)

so why death? because she's the only one who will never die. she doesn't, herself, change, not even if you force a reincarnation like with dream. her sigil will stay the same forever, the necropolis only holds six funeral cerements - death is unlike the others, its written in the rules. it's not the only way she's an exception either; it's mentioned at one point in brief lives that the endless all feel uncomfortable in each others' realms, they can sense that this place is made of an entirely different energy to the one they're used to. except death, who can traverse all the other realms as easily as her own, because even her siblings have to die eventually

more people under your charge, more people to care about. the more it hurts if you let it. her job covers every being in existence, and for the most part it involves being something they don't want you to be. she has had every negative emotion people are capable of directed at her, in a much more first-hand way than her siblings may get. and you have to be okay with it, you have to

because the only way to be free of it is to be the only person left in all existence

[hopeymchope]

anon is misunderstanding or misinterpreting ym ask, I never at all expressed happiness over fuyuhiko's attempted suciide. In fact, it's the opposite. I was horrified at that scene and the mere idea or fact that saionji almost caused him to kill himself for real. fuyuhiko was a horrible person, but he did not deserve that. Besides, unlike hiyoko, he actually faced the consequences of his actions in a very brutal way and he chose to take a step back and realize how fucked up his murder was.

Note: This is a response to this other anon-sent ask.

Thank you kindly for responding to that other anon and clarifying your original ask.

Y'know, we've all kinda glossed over the fact that Fuyuhiko didn't actually kill Mahiru. He didn't even ask/order Peko to do so. Peko took that action on her own as part of her identity as his bodyguard (and someone who clearly loved him). And though I suppose that was because Fuyuhiko was about to do it just because he was pissed off that Mahiru dared to lecture him about revenge being wrong or whatever. Still, the fact remains that Hiyoko can't really scream at/blame the person most directly responsible.

"...but like, lethally."

Let's dig deeper into the Hiyoko/Fuyuhiko/Peko/Mahiru drama with some additional asks, shall we?

Did she have a right to be mad? Yeah, she does. Because Fuyuhiko was going to kill Mahiru for absolutely no good reason. So, sure. He was prepared to become a murderer for "revenge"... even though Fuyuhiko is apparently too stupid to realize that the Twilight Syndrome game clearly indicates he ALREADY got revenge on the person who killed his sister! That really makes his elaborate revenge plan look misguided from the jump. It's like he just wants to lash out at SOMEBODY because he saw that photo of dead Natsumi and had to learn for the first time — the second first time due to them losing their previous memories — that she'd been killed.

"'Because if so, I'll 'E' you next... wait."

Fuyuhiko was still in full acting-like-a-little-shit mode at this point in the story, so I guess him constantly lashing out and being quick to anger is pretty par for the course. But his anger at Mahiru for daring to suggest that maybe murder is bad is pretty much what got Mahiru murdered. That's plenty of reason to be pissed at him. And it's not like Peko is around for Hiyoko to blame anymore... so yeah, I get why she's pissed at Fuyuhiko.

Do I think the fact that she's an awful bully somehow strips her of the right to be upset that someone else was murdered? No, I don't think that way. I think they're separate issues. Just because Hiyoko doesn't have much moral high ground to stand on doesn't mean she can't still be upset over someone getting killed. Although I'm not necessarily defending telling someone else to kill themselves, either... that shit is pretty extreme. I would agree that she doesn't have the right to be saying that, because damn near nobody should be saying shit like that.

That's up to interpretation, but I think when he charged in to try and protect Peko, he was already willing to die to save her. And then he fails... which naturally fills him with a big dose of despair. Since sacrificing himself was already on his mind AND his body was already pretty fucked up from his failed protection effort, I suspect it wasn't too big a leap for him to go from there to "fuck it, maybe I should just die for inspiring Peko's actions, getting her and Mahiru killed, etc."

And yet? I personally think most people who commit or try to commit suicide are likely to feel a screaming desire to stop it once they truly start dying. Because we all have inherent self-preservation instincts. So I bet there legit was a horrifying realization moment that accompanied the moment he felt himself slicing into his own side.

I'd like to think that if Fuyuhiko truly died, she'd definitely have a mental break over it. I don't believe Hiyoko's actually a full-on sociopath, y'know? Actually causing a death with her words would probably (hopefully?) put her through the mental wringer and hopefully generate some kind of self-reflection. I'm sure she'd struggle and try to deny any culpability at first, getting pissed at the suggestion that it was her fault. But I don't think she'd be able to run from the guilt forever. It might not be easy for her to change, but I imagine she'd come out the other side of her breakdown acting at least somewhat better on some level.

[tiney-tadpole]

Oc tag game!

The Rules are simple! Tag people and name a character you want to know more about! If you want to let the person you tagged decide who to showcase, then don’t name a character and they can pick somebody. Easy! The person who is tagged will then bold the remarks below which apply to their character &, if they want to, include a picture with their reply!

Oc of your choice ^^

Teehee, the last time you sent me an ask about my characters I told you about an evil and now I'm gonna tell you about ANOTHER evil >:3

I know I'm missing part of this but I don't mind I'm just gonna take it as a chance to ramble ily

So this is Calsianna Rhodedon (this will be a LONG post, sorry)

She's a master mage from the college of magic, Haven. She was a pioneer in medical magic, specifically studying chronic and terminal illnesses. A fleshsmith and bloodmender. She wasn't a professor there, but she was a top researcher. Her goal is simple. To cure every illness possible, there's no reason anyone should die to these diseases when the marvel of magic exists. She just needs to figure out how to fix them.

She was always extremely successful in her endeavors. There were very few patients she failed, and those were early on in her career. Everyone who knew her knew how devoted to the practice she was, almost religiously so. Fervently, there was an obsession there that everyone turned a blind eye to. What she was doing was helpful, it might not be healthy but she's an adult. She can take care of herself.

Her downfall started when vampirism began to spread over the world. An extremely contagious and dangerous disease that seemingly came out of no where. But it's just another disease, she can cure it. It was far different than any illness she'd seen before but it's just a disease. She can cure it. She can.

Victims of the disease flocked to the college looking for help, she had plenty of subjects to learn from. Nothing she tried helped though. So she had to experiment. She had plenty of subjects. So what if she slid under some of the rules of ethics, this was for the greater good. They would've died anyway, probably.

Calsianna Rhodedon, Rhododon comes from rhododendron decorum. A type of flower. Honey made with it is called mad honey. In small doses it can be used medicinally, while large enough doses can cause numerous psychological symptoms and even death.

Calsianna is very passionate, and it originally came from a place of wanting to help people. But she lost herself in it, forgot why she was doing this. Her battle with disease became personal, her research is all she cares about now.

Eventually the college discovered what she was doing, but she was able to slip away before she was apprehended. She fled to Soulend, the city of endless rain. She continued her research there, pairing with a vigilante group of vampire hunters called The Rook.

The Rook provide her with all the subjects she needs for her research.

Progress is slow though, she's missing something. Something essential to curing this. She just needs to find it. It doesn't matter how many bodies it takes.

[princesshillaryellaworld25]

Another Sneak Peak of Chapter 8 of Psycho Ex Arc

Sick BF was still running while having a panic attack. He was still panicking that Drugfriend was gonna die and it was all his fault. He tries to remain calm.

Sick BF: *deep breaths* I need to calm down...I think I ran away from the group way too far.

Sick Boyfriend looked around to find a way back but was too scared that he was lost.

Sick BF: *mind* Aww crap, I think I'm lost! Oh god, This isn't good! Okay, I need to calm down, take a deep breathe and find my way back. *breath in, breath out* Okay, I need to retrace my steps to find my way back.

Sick Boyfriend tries to remember where he ran and find a way back but it was no use.

Sick BF: Aww man this is bad, Could this get any worse?!

Sick Boyfriend then heard an evil cackle coming from the bushes.

Sick BF: *mind* Eep! What was that?!

The evil cackle started to get louder and there was a shadowy figure coming out of the bushes.

Sick BF: W-W-Who's there?!

Somebody came out, It was Fanzo.

Fanzo: Well Well Well, Look who we have here?

Sick BF:*gasp* I-It's You!.... Y-You're....You're....You're Fanzo!

Fanzo: That's right, It's me Fanzo Miller and I've been looking forward to finally meet you, Sick Boyfriend~

Sick Boyfriend was terrified when Fanzo knew his name, he couldn't believe it.

Sick BF: H-How did you know my n-name?....

Fanzo: Oh Iet's just say I've been watching you and Drugfriend and you're friends for a little while.

Sick BF: S-So You're the one who kidnapped Drugfriend and Penelope!

Fanzo: Hehehe Took you long enough to figure out, I was wondering how you figured out it was me.

Sick BF: Grrr Where's my husband and my gaming buddy, you monster!

Fanzo: I can't tell you, It won't be so fun.

Sick BF: I'm not playing games Fanzo, Tell me where Drugfriend and Penelope are or else, I'll make your face unrecogizable using my microphone!

Fanzo: Well then I'm afraid I can't tell you, You see...I have a score to settle with your husband because he caused my girlfriend's death 15 years ago and I was heartbroken from it.

Sick BF: I know, Drugfriend told me about it and he told me that it wasn't his fault and he tried to save her but it was too late. But that doesn't give you the right to hurt innocent people and Kidnap Drugfriend and Penelope.

Fanzo: Well I don't care and plus I don't have beef with your "GAMING BUDDY", It's my sister who wants her and she wants to do naughty and sexy things to her.

Sick BF: *disgusted* Oh my god....Your sister is disgusting and raping someone, that's unacceptable, Now last chance, you better tell me where Drugfriend and Penelope are or else, I'm going-*tries to pull out his microphone but realizes that his microphone is missing. *mind* Oh no, where's my microphone?!

Fanzo was grinning at Sick Boyfriend trying to search for his microphone, and he pulled out something from his pocket. It was Sick Boyfriend's microphone. It must've dropped in the car when they were at the hotel.

Sick BF: *mind* Where did it go?!

Fanzo: Looking for this~? *holding Sick Boyfriend's microphone in his hands*

Sick Boyfriend looked at Fanzo and was shocked to see that his microphone is on fanzo's hands.

Sick BF: W-Wha....But how did you...

Fanzo: You should really check your surroundings when you're in the car, you never know when it will get explode with the car.

Sick BF: W-Wait, So you're the one who-

Fanzo: Yep, put the bomb inside the car engine. I wanted to blow you guys up inside the car but y'all escaped so now I have to take Jurassic measures.

Sick BF: Jurassic measure? What do you mea-*gasp*

Sick Boyfriend stopped when he saw Fanzo pulled out a syringe filled with poison inside from his pocket.

Fanzo: Remember this?

Sick BF: *whimpering* Oh crap....

Fanzo: Oh~ Seems to me like you're afraid of needles huh? Well this makes my job much more easier...

Sick BF: P-Please don't come near me with that!

Fanzo: Aww little baby scared of needles, Boo hoo hoo, Let's see how your husband and friend would react when I showed him your lifeless body filled with poison after i'm done with you!

Fanzo started to come closer to Sick Boyfriend while Sick Boyfriend slowly backs away from him. His panic attack meters are raising higher again because he saw the needle.

Sick BF: S-Stay back!

Fanzo: Oh come on, this will be quick and painless!

Sick BF: I said STAY AWAY FROM ME!!! *tries to run but trips on a rock and fell to the ground* Ow!

Fanzo: Hehehe Just where I want you.

Sick BF: Stay back! Stay back!

Meanwhile, Sick Girlfriend was running through the Everfree forest trying to look for Sick Boyfriend.

Sick GF: Sick Boyfriend! Sick Boyfriend! Where are you?!

Sick Girlfriend was calling Sick Boyfriend's name out loud, while searching for him.

Sick GF: Aww man, where can he can be?! I haven't seen him get worked up and ran away like that since, i hope he's not hur- Wait, WHAT AM I SAYING?! Why am i even looking for him?! It's not like i care about him! Mmmmmmmmmmm! D'oh, alright! I swear if he dies I'm gonn-

Sick BF: *SCREAMING LOUDLY*

Sick Girlfriend heard that scream, was startled to know that it's Sick Boyfriend screaming.

Sick GF: Oh shit, that's SICK BOYFRIEND! HANG ON SICK BOYFRIEND! I'M COMING TO SAVE YOU! *mind* Holy shit, did i just say that?!

More from Chapter 8 coming soon.

[echonk3]

999 Week 2022 - Junpei

basically some of the aftermath the game had on junpei

You can feel the stares on your back wherever you go.

It was expected, considering you vanished without a trace and then suddenly reappeared. It was probably the first interesting thing that happened at the college in forever, even if it didn’t happen there.

You wish it would stop. You’re already reminded enough of the game whenever you enter a room and, your instincts are screaming at you because you only have 81 seconds-

Except you didn’t have 81 seconds. There wasn’t even a risk.

Despite feeling like you want to pass out, you keep moving, telling yourself it’s over. But it’s never really over is it?

Sometimes, you want to hate Akane, but at the same time, you could never hate Kanny. You want to hate the Akane that ran the game that scarred you, but you can’t hate her because she’s Kanny, the sweet young girl that you met so long ago.

You wonder if the Kanny in the game was an act. It probably was. But maybe it held shades of her true personality.

You wish you could go back to a month ago, to a you who associated Kanny with bunnies and youth and not gas masks and death, to a you who wasn’t haunted by knives and water and axes at night.

You were lying to Clover about not feeling weird about the axe that killed Musashidou and the axe that killed you in another timeline-

Sometimes you can still see the blood. 

Sometimes you can see blood seeping through your clothes, or when you take a look at the others you can see the deaths that befell them in other timelines. Hell, you think it’s even affecting how you see other people. After all, you once saw that one classmate who likes cat puns with his throat slit.

And then the next moment, the blood’s gone.

But the feeling of “oh god no why-” remains.

You wish it would stop.

The people at the college kept on asking you what happened, if you’re okay, were you kidnapped or something?

You want to tell them what happened, and that you kept seeing incinerators and the bracelets and that you were kidnapped-

But you can’t. SOIS told you to not tell anybody not associated with the game about it. And whenever you try to talk about the game even to the others you can’t say a word.

You wish it would stop.

And whenever you feel the eyes on you, you can’t help but think one of them is Akane, watching you-

You wish it would stop.

You wish it would all stop.

The paranoia that somebody is out to get you and the fear that you’re not going to make it and the anxiety that somebody else is going to die-

You hate it.

There are eyes on you again.

Maybe you should drop out.

[nightwqngs]

The Day Charlotte Emily Died. [A Short Story About Her Death]

just a short writing of the day charlotte emily died.

—

Why?

Why did Henry get to have a happy perfect family? William couldn’t have his, the man walked to his car. Did he have a plan? No, but anger was enough to fuel a person. Anger is enough to give somebody a path. It’s just as strong as determination. Many people get their greatest ideas when angry.

What was happening with his life? He had an enemy and it wasn’t himself. Of course, it wasn’t himself, why would he ruin his own life? No. No, this was the fault of Henry Emily: his partner, his friend, co-owner of the Pizzeria.

He has to get revenge, Henry will feel what he feels.

Charlotte ran towards the door of the pizzeria. It was locked. She tried to pull the door open, desperate to get inside. She looked at the kids inside, getting cake from Fredbear. Why didn’t anybody see her? She wasn’t invisible. “Hey!” She tried to call out, needing to get help. Anybody? She was alone, there was nobody to help her. She turned around, seeing lights in the distance. A car.

William went into the parking lot of the pizzeria, staring out the windshield of the wall. What was he going to do? Go inside and fight with Henry? The pizzeria was HIS, he’d fire Henry. Get rid of him and get rid of all his problems. He knew Henry wouldn’t go easily without an actual reason. He stumbled out of his car, slamming the door behind himself. His vision was blurred, and anger overrode his mind. He saw a child in the distance, upon closer look he saw Charlotte.

That. That was how he could deal with the enemy.

I couldn’t tell you what went through his mind. What truly drove a person to switch off humanity and turn to murder? Any emotion could be strong enough to get somebody to murder, Charlotte was just collateral damage.

Charlotte watched as William approached her. Maybe it was the look in his eyes. They were empty and dark. He was angry and it showed. The lights of the pizzeria shined onto the two. “Charlotte.. I need your help,” William spoke. Charlotte looked at him.

Help.

Charlotte wanted to say no, she needed to say no but she couldn’t. She always wanted to be helpful. She was a good kid, she was innocent. All the kids were innocent. Seeing she could help somebody always made her feel happy. “What’s wrong..?” She asked. William watched her movements, she was afraid. What was happening? Something inside of him just snapped. William walked over to the young girl, grabbing her. Charlotte tried to fight back but she couldn’t. There was no use, she couldn’t give her the false hope. If nobody was going to help her when she was trapped outside they would help now. Did they not care? She would die alone and they didn’t seem to care. The laughter inside of the pizzeria, what was once a sweet feel was now bitter.

William grabbed the switchblade he kept in his pocket. The switchblade that was meant for protection. It would now take the life of a child. William stared down at the girl. This is where it should click. The fear and sadness in her eyes. This should make a person stop. Stop. Stop? Why should he? Henry would never stop. But what was Henry doing? Nothing but to William it was everything.

Then black. Everything went black, and in a fit of rage, William Afton murdered Charlotte Emily. The daughter of Henry. His partner.. His friend.. His friend.

Friend.

And on that day, Charlotte died alone. The warmth she had given others in their time of need felt sad. While she gave warmth, she was given a cold and lonely truth in her time of need. She would die that day. William left as if nothing had happened, he would leave alone and

satisfied.

–

some details might not make sense, i wrote this while sick and bored. i will definitely continue to post my short stories. i don’t remember if the games specifically mentioned whether william stabbed charlotte or what but i just went with whatever.

[kariachi]

Want to do OC things but have nothing in my little brain so, Monette facts! Congratulations!

Has some PTSD after an incident in middle school. Didn’t get therapy for it for way too long too, not till her 20s. She still doesn’t do fire, screaming, or pork barbecue, but she’s working on her worrying level of acceptance of death

Goes grey quite young. It’s a genetic thing, her father did it, his father did it- she started getting grey hairs in high school and by the time she left college she’d lost every bit of brown. Owns it too, she’s got way too much self-confidence to have been brought down by something like losing color in her hair

Is very much a pet-name sort’ve person. She’s the sort to call people ‘darling’ and ‘love’ just as a matter of course, shortens names on the regular, if she uses your actual name and doesn’t add a ‘dear’ or some shit to the end she is fucking pissed no matter how much she might be smiling at you

She will normally be smiling, do not trust it, over time you learn to tell the difference between ‘I’m being polite’ and ‘somebody will be by your garage with a sledgehammer next month’

She’s a sweetheart, most personable and giving fucker around, who will 100% call that girl she fucked in college whose uncle has ties to the mob and they’ll make sure you stop harassing that nice kid working the counter at her favorite cafe

Nobody’s died because of her so far. So far.

Monie lives in a world of connections and favors and ‘you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours’

She is so fucking social. She owns an 8 bedroom mansion purely for hosting purposes (you can worry about making sure your drunk guests get home safe, or have a place ready for them to crash) (it also has an elevator and ramps purely for accessibility reasons).

If there is any defining Monie trait it’s that she likes people, she likes being around people, she likes making people happy. Which directly led to her more positive traits, it only took hearing one maid worrying about medical bills when she was a kid to make her go ‘none of my people should have to worry like that’ and now here we are, with this bitch paying her maids the same wage she’s getting

If you put Monie on a desert island with enough food, shelter, water, medical gear, etc to last a year she’d die within a week of loneliness, swear to god

Is by far the most athletic of my OCs. Marian also has her sporty side but Monie has to do sport or her enrichment needs aren’t met

Played hockey from early elementary school up through college, trying to play professionally was an actual serious consideration for her. As it stands she continues to follow the sport religiously, funds local and semi-local women’s and girls’ teams, and will join in on a friendly game given any sort’ve encouragement

Honestly it’s amazing she survived playing hockey, she is a small woman- 5′2 and like 125 lbs soaking wet- but not afraid to get right of a middle of skirmish. Enjoys it, in fact

At ‘present’ her big ‘I need to do an athletic’ things are running (why no, she doesn’t have a long straight empty space running across her home just so she can do sprints, why would you think that) and rock climbing. She generally does traditional climbing or highball bouldering, the latter to fill her burning need for free solo climbing

Does she want to climb a 100 ft cliff face with nothing but chalk and proper footwear at every opportunity? Yes. Does her therapist specifically request she not do that sort’ve thing anymore? Also yes.

Her family was expecting her to go into politics, wanted her to go into politics. As of the ‘present’ she has a pretty much brand-new doctorate in physical therapy. Her great-aunt considers this a lesser accomplishment than her cousin getting a bachelor’s in business and honestly the fact the woman is still alive should earn Monie a medal

Does she go around making a big deal of the doctorate as a general rule? No. Is she require it’s acknowledgement by assholes who want to deal with her? Yes.

Has had multiple arguments with said cousin about whether unions are a threat to the framework of American economics or ‘a valuable tool for maintaining a healthy relationship between owners and employees and ensuring the balance of the economy, you self-important twerp’

Spends about 70% of the money she gets from her shares in family businesses on things like buying out people’s medical debt, improving housing access and helping people get off the streets, advocating for higher wages and lower police budgets, so on and so forth (again, people were surprised she didn’t go into politics)

Her big goal is to take the business she’s going to inherit from her mother and just hand it over completely to the employees, take the profits from her shares of the business on her father’s side once he’s gone and they quadruple and over the course of several years set up a charity providing free housing, one that literally just handles medical bills for people, and a scholarship program for low income med students, each with their own trust account feeding into a checking account, then take her shares and, if she can drag her relatives into it, establish an Employee Owned Trust, granting them to their employees and giving them 1/3 share of the business. After that, if her math is right, her savings should be just enough to carry her to her death in the degree of luxury which she prefers, with any leftovers also going to charity

[seijorhi]

Final Girl

Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou & Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

And please check out the incredible fanart @lausterdomyamong created for this fic here 💕💕💕

TW blood, gore, violence, minor character death, implied non-con, pregnancy mentions, nsfw

Your lungs are burning. 

You haven’t run like this in years, your thighs are screaming at you for a reprieve. With every step it feels like the soles of your bare feet are splitting open but you can’t stop, not for a single second.

You can’t stop. You can’t stop. 

Keep running.

It’s dark, and you can barely see.

Stumbling like newborn foal through the thick undergrowth, tripping over the roots that catch at your feet. Your legs are scratched and bleeding, and there’s a nasty scrape along your arm from where you’d fallen and tried to cushion the blow, but you shove it all down and you keep running.

You can’t hear much over the sounds of your laboured breaths and your own heartbeat hammering away inside of your ears, but you know you must be making a racket. Branches breaking, leaves crunching underfoot as you clumsily dash through the woods - keep running, keep going.

Being quiet won’t save you if they catch up.

The loud whoops and the hyena like laughter that echo out through the trees behind you spur you onwards. Faster, you have to run faster.

This is nothing but a game to them. 

“Wait- wait, just stop for a sec… do you hear that?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes as you scoot closer to his bedroll, “Really, babe? The campfire stories weren’t enough for you? Do you not want me to sleep at all on this trip?”

There’s a teasing little grin on your face, not that your boyfriend can see it in the darkness of your tent. You expect him to laugh, grab you by the waist and pull you under him - make some quip about his wicked intentions of not letting you sleep a wink, but he doesn’t.

He stiffens, pushing himself back upright onto his palms, head cocked to the side like a dog listening for the faintest hint whisper of a sound.

“Babe-”

“Shh!” he hisses, and it’s more shock than anything else that has your mouth falling shut. His hand reaches across to grab yours in the darkness and he squeezes it just once. An apology maybe, or a reassurance that you’re still there with him. “Can you hear that? I think… I think there’s someone out there.”

You swallow uneasily, goosebumps prickling at your skin. If this is part of some stupid joke, you’re gonna kick him out of this tent and make him bunk with his friends for the rest of the trip. He’s never been one for mean spirited pranks, but this is freaking you out.

“It’s probably just one of the guys-” or an animal, or the wind, or his own overactive imagination. You guys are out in the middle of the woods after all. 

“I’m gonna go out and check,” he whispers, pulling his hand from yours and pressing a quick kiss against your cheek. “Stay here.”

There’s a road, a long stretch of winding highway that you’d driven along for what felt like hours when you’d first arrived with your friends. There’s no possible way for you to know if you’re going in the right direction, but if you can just make it there, then-

The thick scent of smoke invades your nose and for you falter - just for a split second - searching for the source. There, maybe two hundred yards away to your left, you spot the orange glow flickering between the trees and your stomach lurches.

Dark figures flit through the clearing, maybe a dozen of them, half illuminated by the bonfire. You can hear their laughter, the shouts and drunken revelry as they party the night away. They don’t have a care in the world, and why should they? Real monsters belong in horror movies and scary stories, not lurking in the shadows of the woods. 

Leave them.

The vicious thought takes you by surprise, but for one awful moment, you consider it. The promise of fresh new toys to rip apart and break, drunk and blissfully unaware, surely that would be enough to tempt them away. You’re just one girl… 

(The truth, the one that sits heavy in your stomach, whispers that you know better than to believe they’ll ever let you get away.)

Your heart pounds against your ribs, your legs unwittingly slowing down. You don’t have time for indecision; it’s them or you.

If leaving them to the wolves meant that you walked away from this, if you could make it back home-

There’s a shout, a scream that rips through the crisp autumn night before it cuts off with an abrupt gurgle. A loud thud followed by a laugh you don’t recognise - one that sends a chill running down your spine. More voices, more screams. Footsteps and a splatter of something dark and viscous against the side of your tent.

There’s a hoot and a chuckle, closer this time, and you hear a sob that’s all too familiar. Pleading. 

Your friend begging for her life.

“Shh, shh, shhh. Aw c’mon sweetheart, don’t be like that.”

Another hiccuping sob. “Please… p-please I don’t wanna die…”

“Kuroo-”

There’s a petulant huff, a loud voice interjecting, “s’no fun when they’re just sitting there.”

Kneeling frozen in your tent with one hand clamped tightly over your mouth to stifle your own terrified cries, you squeeze your eyes shut, not daring to draw breath. 

Somebody sighs - the first one, you think. “Y’know, I think Bokuto has a point… Do you like games, sweetheart?”

There’s no response - at least not one that you can hear - but she must have nodded, because the voice continues, “Glad to hear it! Tell you what, we’re gonna play a little game, and if you win, we’ll let you go! Sounds fair, right?”

“We’ll even give you a headstart, just cause we’re nice guys! Whad'ya reckon ‘Kaashi? A minute? Two?”

There’s a short silence, filled only by the sounds of her ragged whimpering. “Two,” the second one - ‘Kaashi - decides. His voice is deadpan, smooth, cold and blunt, but there’s an underlying current of something excitable - the barest hint that he’s not quite as disinterested as he sounds. “She won’t get away.”

No.

You veer, sprinting towards the camp. 

The others died while you hid like a fucking coward, too scared to do anything to help them (it wouldn’t have made a difference, but you should have tried) you can’t do this again. 

You can only imagine how you must look, a strange woman sprinting out of the woods, barefoot, your nightgown torn and filthy, blood streaking your skin. You can pinpoint the moment that they catch sight of you, one of the guys doing a double take and jerking so badly he almost falls off the log he’s perched on. “What the fuck?!”

Another turns, eyes wide and gaping, “Dude, she’s fucking pre-”

“RUN!” you bellow, just in time to see an axe arc through the air beside you and embed itself smack bang in the centre of his skull with a sickening thud.

“Now that’s a bullseye!” Bokuto hollers, maybe thirty feet behind you and gaining quickly. “Didja see that, Akaashi?”

Screams erupt from the other campers, scrambling frantically to their feet as their friend collapses lifelessly to the ground, blood still spurting gruesomely from his wound. 

“Don’t go gettin’ cocky now, the night’s still young,” Kuroo drawls, swinging his baseball bat - the dark wood flecked with dried blood, rusted nails crudely hammered through the barrel - experimentally through the air a few times. “And last I counted, I was still two up on you.”

There’s no time to humour the fear that rips through you like wildfire. You grab the nearest camper - a girl not much older than yourself, staring wide eyed and trembling at the body in front of her - and yank her forward with you. “Run,” you hiss again.

The others scatter, drunk and clumsy - a split second too slow. 

A boot lands on the fallen tree stump, its owner springing gracefully over it. Akaashi’s machete gleams in the moonlight, sweeping gracefully like an extension of his arm as he slices downwards. Blood sprays, drenching his front, and another body falls to the ground - this one missing half a face. 

It’s brutal. Chaotic. 

Ruthless. 

You can’t look back, you can’t help them. The girl is screaming at you, yelling words you can’t hear, trying fruitlessly to tug her wrist out of your grip, but you don’t relent. You don’t slow down, not even as dread fills your stomach and tears burn unshed in your eyes. You can’t help the others - not as Kuroo’s bat comes swinging out of the darkness, tearing flesh and muscle from bone, not when Bo yanks his axe from his victim’s head with a foot planted on his chest, immediately giving chase to another with a wild grin, not when Akaashi’s machete, slick with blood, cuts through her friends like butter - but you can save her.

Just one person- 

“Kitten, come back and play!” Kuroo shouts after you with a sickeningly fond chuckle.

- so long as you don’t stop running.

The camp is eerily quiet, even the crickets have stopped. You have no idea how long ago they left to hunt down your friend, how long you’ve sat, sobbing in silence, too scared to breathe, waiting to see if they’d come back. 

Your friends are dead. Your boyfriend is dead. 

You don’t realise how badly you’re shaking until you try and move - almost falling flat on your face when your arms give out. They’re gone, but every noise, no matter how muted, feels deafening and you try not to flinch as you drag yourself towards the mouth of the tent. You don’t have time to prepare yourself for the carnage waiting for you across the camp ground, you can’t think about the fact that people you love have been torn apart and murdered while you cowered away frozen in fear.

The grip you have on your emotions, your sanity, is fragile, but in your terrified hysteria, you understand one very important thing - they could come back at any moment, and you cannot be here when that happens. 

You cannot stop and cry for your friends, you cannot afford to break down when you see their bodies hacked up and scattered around you - you won’t even look - you just have to take the car keys fisted in your right hand, get to your boyfriend’s truck and get the fuck away from this nightmare as quickly as those wheels can take you. 

Crawling on your hands and knees you slowly pry open the tent flap, biting your lip and wincing at the quiet hiss of the zipper. 

The cold night air hits you like a slap in the face, but it’s nothing compared to the overwhelming coppery tang of blood that settles on the tip of your tongue as you breathe it in. You bite down on your whimper, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing your leaden limbs to move - you can’t afford to stop now, you have to get away.

You won’t look, you won’t look, you won’t-

“I was wondering when you’d finally show yourself.”

Ice douses your system, your heart lurching. Your eyes shoot open, darting towards the source of the voice - there, leaning calmly against the thick trunk of a tree only a few feet away from you is a man. Tall and slender, with dark hair and delicate features, you’d probably go so far as to call him pretty if it wasn’t for the blood splattered garishly across his pale skin and the teasing grin tugging at his lips. 

Absolute terror renders you helpless as he pushes away from the tree and takes a single, calculated step towards you. “Kuroo and Bokuto won’t be long, they’re just finishing up with your friend.” His pretty smirk widens as your eyes well up with tears and a gasping sob finally rips its way free from your chest, “but I don’t think they’ll mind if we get started without them.”

You’re following the well trodden path, praying to god that it’ll lead you back to the road, to any kind of safety. The shouts and screams behind you died out a few minutes ago, but you can’t let yourself think about what that means - it’ll only slow you down and you’re so close.

“Wait, wait, stop! We ha-have to go back!” the girl cries, trying once again to pull you to a stop. “My friends-”

“I’m sorry,” you pant, glancing across at her - and you are. Her eyes are wide and terrified, swimming in a pain you know all too well. It’s selfish and cruel, and it’ll tear her apart just like it has you, but if you let her go now… “It’s too late for them, we need to keep-”

“Baby, you know you can’t hide from us!”

Bokuto. Your heart seizes just as the girl shrieks, and you risk a glance over your shoulder, slowing just a faction. 

They’re closing in, all three of them, less than twenty yards away.

Panic and desperation bite at your nerves - you can’t let them catch you, not now, not when you’re almost free. But your body is aching, your muscles on fire and your stamina is shot to pieces. You’re on your last legs and they know it. They don’t even have to run anymore, they’ve worn you down completely - it’s a miracle you’re still standing.

And it’s childish and petulant, but you just want to scream and cry and yell and beat your fists against the ground because it’s not fucking fair!

You were so close.

Your grip around her wrist slackens just a touch, and the girl takes the opportunity to rip her hand free from yours. You expect her to run, to flee like a bat out of hell and leave you crumpled in the dust, but instead she turns to you with a withering glare, “This is all your fault. You brought them here. You did this.”

The accusation hits you like a slap, but before you can even open your mouth to protest (she’s not wrong, you know she’s not wrong) she grabs you by the shoulders and with all the strength she has left, shoves you back in the path of your pursuers. You stumble from the force of the blow, not expecting it, and for a moment you feel yourself start to fall, instinctively curling in on yourself to protect your belly-

Strong arms catch you before you can hit the ground, pulling you against a warm, muscular chest. “Gotcha,” Kuroo breathes, his tongue darting out to lick at the blood splattered across your cheek.

Vaguely, you register Bokuto’s low, furious growl as he launches forward, his axe raised high. The sharp, piercing screams are cut off quickly - violently - as he buries it in her neck with a snarl. He swings again and her head tumbles clean off to bounce across the forest floor, but he keeps going, swinging again and again and again until her body is nothing but a bloody, mangled mess for the animals to scavenge. 

Your vision blurs, and it takes you a moment to realise that it’s tears welling up in your eyes as Kuroo’s hands run up and down your sides, drifting protectively across the gentle swell of your stomach. “You did good, kitten,” he coos, Akaashi and Bokuto coming up either side of you. “But it’s time to come home now, don’tcha think?”

A hand cups your cheek, drawing you to meet Akaashi’s twisted, lovesick expression, “Gotta reward our pretty little girl for playing her role so well,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the delicate skin. 

“Maybe we can fuck another kid into her,” Bokuto adds with a grin, his previous rage all but forgotten, sated along with his bloodlust thanks to the butchered corpse lying a few yard away. His golden eyes, half lidded and burning with lust, flicker across your face for just a moment, drinking in every last drop of crushing defeat and despair before his lips crash down on yours in a savage, bloody kiss.

This was nothing but a game to them - one you never had a chance in hell of winning. 

[mrs-march-ahs]

American Horror Story Hunger Games

This is an idea I’ve had for absolutely months. I needed to set it free.

Summary- Ever wonder what would’ve happened if 24 of the most brutal characters on the show were put together, in a life or death arena?

This is how I believe this would play out.

Enjoy, tell me what you think :)

1. Richard Ramirez (1984) – Savage and persistent, but easily frustrated. He wasn’t able to get Brooke or Mr Jingles. Has soft spots and can be somewhat toyed with and puppeteered. He’s young, and has weaknesses and cracks in his personality.

2. Dandy Mott (Freak Show) -A literal savage. Killed his own mother and played with her dead body. Doesn’t like when things don’t go his way. If somebody managed to escape him, he would need hours to recover. He’s very emotional and that could be his biggest weakness. Wouldn’t be very sneaky or secretive. Would get bored of the hunger games very very easily and would want out. But he would never suicide, he would just complain.

3. Kai Anderson (Cult) – So manipulative. Convince people to kill each other. Convince people to make Dandy crazy and weak. Make false teams and alliances. Convince people he’s the worthy one and people should sacrifice. A lot of less strong personalities could end up being his little puppets. Larry (13) and Sally (16) need to be told what to do, and he would tell them. If he made it far enough, he would be able to outsmart and kill both of them.

4. James Patrick March (Hotel) -Has plenty of experience. Get along with Arden. If we’re killing, let’s make it fun and explore. Wouldn’t be as much about winning as it would be about the game for him, completely opposite to Kai. James would want to make the experience exciting and mutilate people. He’s somewhat a lone wolf though and would struggle making alliances unless others reached out. The Countess is a big weakness.

5. Margaret Booth (1984) -Killed a whole camp because she was making fun of her. Convincingly blamed it on Jingles. Cut off ears with no hesitation just to fit the story. Kind of creative. She would get far, because people would underestimate her. Nobody would think she was a threat, but she would be very quietly cutting people off and blaming it on others. She would also tell people lies all the time, like “Be careful of March, I just saw him kill Piggy Man” when it was actually her.  

6. Tate Langdon (Murder House) -Good at justifying his own actions. Very sensitive and would spend the first half an hour crying. He wouldn’t have a weapon at first and he would sit and cry about it in a tree. Would try to save somebody from Michael though. He would get along very well with Sally, but Kai would see him as a lose end and wouldn’t even try to kill him. Kai sees Tate as such little of a threat that he’s not enough worth his time killing, because somebody else will inevitably kill him, or he’ll get sad and kill himself. Tate would hide out most of the time before he started getting mad and killing people off. But he would only do that if he had a gun, as he’d be a bit cautious if he thought others may have weapons. Likes jumping out of camouflage and scaring people.

7. The Butchess (Roanoke) -Goes on savage rampages and can’t be stopped.

8. Twisty (Freak Show) -Doesn’t have the psychopathic motivation. Desperate for attention in a way. The way he kills is very theatrical and that could be a big weakness. Secretly very emotional, and would be in two different personas. During the day, he would hide out and think of plans, trying to not get too overwhelmed by his own emotions, and then during the night he would become Twisty and kill people. He would be very protective of younger people or those who he classed as vulnerable. He’d help them hide out and protect them, promising them that when their time comes, he’ll go easy on them and they’ll die peacefully.

9. Bloody Face (Asylum) -Him and Arden could work together, but Bloody Face would be slightly scared of Arden. He does still have soft spots. Mommy issues. He would get frustrated sort of easily and want to do things his way, having the bodies for a certain amount of time, etc. But his attention to detail and desperate need for warm touch would get him killed. If he were to work with somebody, he would prefer to be guided.

10. Dr Arthur Arden (Asylum) -Would be able to convince JPM to experiment. They would both be fascinated by Franken Kyle, but they would both want to go after weaker women first. Dr Arden would suggest The Countess and James would stab him on the spot.

11. Franken Kyle (Coven) – Damaged, but full of rage and anger. Just so angry. Obviously, not only does Kyle need guiding and being told what to do, but Kyle definitely needs protecting. Kyle would struggle to find a warm place to sleep and food to eat. If he had somebody (like Sally or Mary Eunice) to take care of him in those ways, he has the potential to be a murdering machine. But if he were left by himself, he would venture too far away from the middle. He would get upset and frustrated trying to find a warm shelter to sleep in and he would freeze to death in the pouring rain in the night, crying himself to death. :(

12. Charles Montgomery (Murder House) -Made the Infantata. Clearly mental. But he wasn’t so much of a cold-blooded murderer as he was fascinated by anatomy. He’d want to make in interesting, and that would kill him off. He would waste so much time with dead bodies.  

13. Larry (Murder House) -Kai’s servant. Incredibly loyal, he killed for Constance because he’s in love. His weakness would be trying to be too efficient. He wouldn’t want to do actual dirty work by himself, he would try to set up traps or set fire to people, maybe even poison them. Things would take too long and he wouldn’t be secretive enough. He would either be killed in self defence by a potential victim or Kai would kill him for taking too long.

14. Piggy Man (Roanoke) -Will disappear if you say Croatoan. Weakling.

15. Marie Laveau (Coven) -Put Kathy in a cage and buried her alive. Clearly not only has the rage and anger inside of her, but also able to act on her darkest thoughts. Too sympathetic however, which would be a weakness. She would easily sympathise with whoever told her the right story. She would become maternal over Franken Kyle, Tate, or Michael. One of the people who she took good care of would back stab her.

16. Hypodermic Sally (Hotel) -Does have a high death count. So sensitive and emotional. Her and Tate would get along. Similarly to Tate, she would go on hard rampages for a while and then need time to recharge. Her need for attention and human affection would absolutely kill her. She would constantly approach people and try to make alliances, but be so annoying and look so untrustworthy that people would kill her.

17. John Lowe (Hotel) -Got the anger inside of him because of Holden. But does need guidance. James would guide him, and he would do what he was told. He’s a very solid contender, and apart from needing guidance the only thing that would kill him is his own fatigue. Unlike some of the hardcore murderers, he wouldn’t be able to keep going constantly. He would need time to unwind and might do that with Sally, before killing her. He could make it all the way, but he wouldn’t because he’s exhausted and drained. Might kill himself, but probably will get killed while killing somebody else.

18. Ally Mayfair-Richards (Cult) -Did kill her own wife. But definitely needs strong motivation. Winter deserved to die just as much as Ivy but Ally wasn’t able to do it. Would need somebody to do some of the dirty work for her. Obviously if she was in the hunger games before her villainy arch, she would die immediately. She would submit to anybody she needed to just to survive for the sake of surviving.

19. Michael Langdon (Apocalypse) -Literally the antichrist. But wants guidance. Seeks approval in the same way Bloody Face does. He has the potential to win as long as he didn’t talk to anybody or listen to anything anybody said. The second he got too far in the game and started to try and play mind games and make alliances is when he would lose. The plan that worked for him was if you see somebody, follow them, kill them. He’s strong and cunning and that could’ve let him win.

20. Mr Jingles (1984) -Too soft. Would only be motivated by his family and need to survive for them. Surprisingly enough, he would completely refuse to work with anybody. He would always think that he wasn’t in here to make friends but to survive, and getting to know people would complicate things too much. He would be killed when he’d be asleep in his own hiding place.

21. The Countess (Hotel) -Only kills if she’s betrayed. Would and could manipulate James, getting him to kill for her. She would eventually die, potentially at the hands of John. The Hunger Games is what James would need to realise how much she didn’t love him, and that her living isn’t worth it. She would assume she could win because she’s a vampire and she wont die of natural causes like Franken Kyle would, but not knowing her own weakness is her biggest weakness, and ultimately cause of death.

22. Mary Eunice (Asylum) -Pre-possessed would die first because she’s a little bitch. After, would kill a lot of people and could manipulate Arden the same way The Countess does James. In fact, she would partner up with The Countess and together they would hunt people out. But when Arden and James kill The Countess, she joined their team fully.

23. Queenie (Coven) -Super powerful. Can kill without even getting close. But her weakness is how not sneaky she is. She would struggle to do all the survival things. Get food, find a place to sleep, climb trees or hide from people. But once she had one weapon, that’s pretty much all she needs. If somebody approaches her, she’d stab herself and kill them. She’d die being stabbed repeatedly in her sleep by Kai.

24. Robot Mair Mead (Apocalypse) -Needs obvious instructions, and when Michael died, she died with him. When she died, James and Arden would be fascinated by the way she works (since it’s not from their time) and try to make a robot Kyle since he’s useless not being a robot. They would take his dead body and dismembered Robot Mead parts and create the ultimate fighting champion, Robot Franken Kyle. Arden would kill Mary Eunice, allowing the Devil to enter Robot Franken Kyle, creating Demon Robot Franken Kyle. Unstoppable. The ultimate winner, after he goes ballistic and kills his creators, Arden and James, then anybody who’s left.

                                 OVERALL WINNERS BELOW GIF

6. James March. An experienced murderer. 5. Dr Arthur Arden. A brutal masochist. 4. Margaret Booth. A determined fighter. 3. Kai Anderson. An evil leader. 2. Michael Langdon. A possessed killer. 1. Kyle Spencer. Demon Robot Franken Kyle.

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

@milly-louise​  @kitwalker02​  @tatestripedsweater​  @therenlover​  @maria-akira​         @tatesimper​  @sallyscigarettes​  @mossybank​  @ahsxual​  @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess​  @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan​  @kitwalkerangel​  @kitsommers​  @blackbat2020​ @whiiiiplaaaaash​  @elaineygrace​ @divinerulerluvr​ @johndeaconshands​ @midnightstar-90​ @xmaximoffic @tatesweaterweather @undeadcortez​ @slightlyvicked​ @americxn​ @kaislittleheadliner @imjimmysdarling​  @kaiandersonluvr @fictional-men-that-i-stan @quickiesgirl​

[hard--mode]

Here's the notes for everything that would happen up until the end of the story.... as far as I had it figured out. You'll notice things are a lot less fleshed out the later things go. That's a big reason why this never got finished. the longer I tried to keep the thing running, the more I realized I never had any idea what I wanted to actually DO with this story which made it pretty hard for me to keep up. it's hard to write a story you're trying to take seriously if all you really have are jokes, it turns out.

I haven't reread any of this or edited it at all so who knows what kind of notes I might have written in between things haha

P: so as i was saying about undyne-

C: who’s undyne?

Everyone freezes. Chara just walked right up to papyrus without being noticed. Paps freaks out for a sec before he pulls sans into a huddle. Chara frowns and tries to peek around.

~Montage of papyrus’s excitement and harder puzzles, death montage

~Junior jumble: its sudoku now

Chara’s doing puzzles and sees flowey spying. They shout him over

C: HEY! still following me, loser? Don’t you have anything better to do? (but they smile)

F: somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get killed too much out here

Flowey pops up closer to them

C: nah, I’m fine! I’ve got that reset power!

F: not for long considering how much you use it (mumbles. Rolls eyes??) (some depiction of chara dying a lot in the bg)

C: by the way…. In the ruins you were telling me to use it… care to tell me more about it since you seem to know so much?

F: I-... uh… well you already know the most of it. It just resets you back to your last SAVE point like nothing happened. Only beings with a powerful SOUL can use it, so monsters with their weak souls can’t.

Chara stops their puzzle work and sits to even the heights: Can flowers?

F: what the heck are you-... oh, no no no. I’m different.

C: so you have the power too.

F: No! I mean-, i used to before you came around. Yeah.

C: so you’ve done resets. (urging him on)

F: yep.

Chara waits a while: ...thats all you have to say?

F: yep

Travel scenes from here on out depict chara and flowey together

Gauntlet:

Flowey remarks that he doesn't remember a save point being before it. Chara goes along and gets paps’ bit. He does to activate it

C: wait this isn't for real right? U can't be srs!!!

P: yeah I am, this is hard mode!

Just show chara repeatedly spawning at the save and running back in with flowey watching them

Then cut to the end chara on the other side of it panting and exhausted, papyrus shocked but also beaming

P: wow you did it!! I'm so proud of u human! I didn’t think you would actually be able to get through it--- I mean- drat! Foiled again! I'll get u one of these times!

Papyrus runs off and Chara watches him with a look of wonder in their eyes.

F: don’t get too excited. his pride is cheap, he’s proud of everyone and every thing

Chara grumbles and marches forward: whatever. I don’t hear you saying you’re proud of me, so why do I have to listen to what you have to say

F: You know, you’re gonna have to fight him soon. Didn’t sans say so? What are you going to do then, die over and over until you give up or are you going to try to murder him just like you did with Toriel? :)

C: I am not! I’m gonna talk him out of it and go right past him like everyone else. Who knows! Maybe he won’t even fight me because he’s that cool. Even if he does, he’s probably a wimp anyways.

F: I wouldn’t be so sure! I bet you don’t stand a chance.

C: shut up! Quit following me if you’re gonna be this useless.

Paps fight

As papyrus carries their body to the shed to rest. Opens on their vision returning and they see their hands hanging toward the ground.

C: why didn’t you kill me? You’re stronger than everyone else, you could easily do it. Why dont you finish me off so everyone can leave or whatever it is you need me to do? Why did you hold back?

P: OH! YOU’RE AWAKE!

C: you held back…

P: OF COURSE i DID! I COULD NEVER KILL YOU, YOU’RE MY-- I HOPE I’M NOT BEING TOO FORWARD, BUT I LIKE TO THINK OF YOU AS MY FRIEND! AND EVEN THOUGH WE DO NEED YOUR SOUL, YOU DESERVE A FIGHTING CHANCE TO DO… WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE TRYING TO DO.

Chara is too shocked and confused by the sentiment: I don’t… I don’t understand?

P: WHAT’S SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND ABOUT A FRIEND NOT KILLING YOU? HUMANS ARE SO STRANGE ...OH! I SEE NOW! THE REASON WHY YOU CARRY YOUR KNIFE LIKE THAT. IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE MORE AFRAID OF US MONSTERS THAN WE COULD EVER BE OF YOU!

He sets them down in the shed on the dog bed.

P: I’M SORRY, HUMAN! I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU MORE WARNING IF I HAD KNOWN HOW YOU FELT.

C: then… does that mean you’re going to let me go?

P: ABSOLUTELY NOT! I ALREADY CALLED UNDYNE TO MEET ME SO SHE CAN TAKE YOU! AND YOU NEED TO REST NOW AFTER ALL THAT!

C: !! I-I don’t know who Undyne is, but I can’t do that. I’m in a hurry to get out of here.

P: HMM… IF YOU’RE IN A HURRY THEN… NO, NO YOU CAN’T! WE NEED YOUR SOUL, I CAN’T JUST LET YOU LEAVE. UNDYNE’S REALLY COOL TOO, YOU’LL LIKE HER!

C: No, I have to go.

P: AGH, WELL… I SUPPOSE IF YOU CAN GET PAST ME BEFORE I CAN CATCH YOU, THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO. BUT I WON’T GO EASY ON YOU!

Cut to chara walking toward waterfall, papyrus calling after them to come back and hang out sometime. They keep walking and mutter to themself: Sorry, but I’ll get out of here before that ever happens.

WATERFALL

They see monster kid and side eye sans as they charge in, hurriedly.

Chara keeps flowey around and asks him to read the words for him. FLowey says it’s not important at all to anything they’re doing. It’s just monster history junk that means nothing if chara’s trying to leave. Chara’s like shut up cmon help me out maybe there's clues. FLowey reads some history stuff in waterfall treating it like shit they already know

F: why do you care about all this garbage anyway?

C: I dunno, I guess it just sounds familiar. Like a story I heard a long time ago.

Chara stops suddenly and checks their phone. Flowey asks what’s up

C: i thought it rang… you didn’t hear-

The phone starts ringing. Papyrus is cheerfully on the other end and they walk and talk.

He tells them about how he heard so many horrible things about humans and the surface but chara was much nicer than he ever expected. Chara asks where he heard that and he says a flower told him. Chara covers the receiver and looks around for flowey, suspicions of him raised.

Montage w monster kid and umbrella

Chara falls from undyne’s spear attack and wakes up in the trash with flowey over them.

F: hey, wake up. I can tell you’re not dead so hurry up and get moving.

Chara’s kind of bummed: she killed me four times back there. And it wasn’t even a fight. I couldn’t talk her down or… i couldn’t even talk to her, I could barely see her.

F: what, are you giving up or something? You know she can kill you as much as she wants and you aren’t gonna die.

C: I know that! I know this is just like a game where you can keep on going but… it hurts. And it’s exhausting.

F: what will you do then? Sit here in this trash and do nothing?

C: *sigh* no. I’m just feeling down in the dumps.

They smile and get up.

As they’re walking out, they hear a click and someone to tell them to “hold it”

Mad dummys behind them and she just has a gun. Pointed directly at chara. She starts on her thing about the cousin and then blook saves the day.

Chara meets up with blook again. They go to where the snail races used to be. It’s all busted and unused

C: what’s this supposed to be…?

B: oh…. this used to be a snail farm…. And this was a race course…. For snails…. But a long time ago people started to call the races “insensitive” so we had to close them…. Sorry you can’t have any fun racing snails…

C: why was it insensitive…?

B: ...i’d… rather not talk about it………..

Timeskip

C: hey flowey! What’s up with this place and snails?

F:...i wouldnt know.

montage

After waterfall where undyne says how many souls they have

C: flowey… if they have 6 human souls, that means 6 others fell down and died here, so…

F: what?

C: i just- i mean you were the first one i met-

F: no, no, no, ive never killed anyone. You’re the only human i’ve seen since i woke up

Chara relaxes: ok. So you dont know anything about them.

F: no. i heard some things from toriel, not much. It’s too late to try asking her, but she’s seen all of them. She was there at the beginning even.

C: the beginning?

F: you know…. When humans started falling down here and monsters started killing them.

Chara goes silent in thought: wait… how… long has this been going on? How old is toriel?

F: dunno

Chara after having a rough time: it’s hard, but no matter what happens i can just keep trying. I’ll make it out of this! You believe in me right, flowey?

F: no i think you should give up.

Page/chapter ends there. Next is chara going up to fight undyne.

Open on a riff on the “long ago” cutscene that chara cuts off by saying they already know this story

Undyne screams SHUT UP!!! I’m doing my HEROIC MONOLOGUE!! Whatever, I bet you haven’t heard the part about the King and Queen’s human child who died of illness and their other son who was killed by the humans when he tried to return their body to the surface?!

C: No I think I heard that one too? Why are you telling me all this anyways??

U: because this is an UNSKIPPABLE CUTSCENE!! NYAAAGGGHHHH!!!!!

Chara’s getting their ass beat and on low hp: I’ll die in a hit or two. But that’s fine because I’ll just start this over. I’ll start from… where was the last save point…

A vision of them with flowey. Their eyes go red and the flashback cuts in between shots of them running from undyne

F: I think you should give up

Ch: what… give up?? I thought you were on my side with all the telling me to keep going and-and the hanging out with me?!

F: as if you had any other choice but to keep going! We both know you don’t.

C: so you’ve just been following this whole time waiting for me to give up and die, huh?! Why, are you trying to steal my soul just like everybody else?!?

F: it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you’re going to die! And die and die and die! You can reset as much as you want, it won’t change that! So what if I am waiting for you to give up? You’re the last thing keeping monsters trapped down here. If you give up, you’ll give everyone what they want!

C: I thought you wanted to help me?! I thought you were my friend!

F: I would never be friends with a human! You’re all nothing but killing machines!

C: I haven’t killed anyone!

F: You killed Toriel! No number of resets can change what you did! You’re a horrible, disgusting human just like all the others and everyone would be happier if you were dead!

Flowey could say something about dying down here is better than their inevitable death on the surface. Their death would at least be worth something. Mean something

Chara escapes the fight, undyne collapses, and they walk away. they tell themselves they won’t give up. They don’t need help, especially not from that dumb flower. They’ll live to spite him and everyone else who tries to kill them

Chara goes in and meets alphys and overall is p meh abt it bc bad mood. Alphys helping them through the underground makes them talk to themselves about how they dont need flowey, they can do this themself. Friends are no good.

hotland is as normal. probably figure out some indication of things not right. make the game seem broken bc they arent supposed to get so far like this

Chara meets with sans at mtt resort for food reluctantly. Lets him say his piece. After he’s done threatening to kill them chara says to his face that they really don’t like him.

Need some hubbub about them having to kill asgore to get out. Theyll be like yeah I know that (somehow)... oh but I need a plan… how will i come up with a plan..

Flowey finally appears to chara again just before they get to new home and tries to talk them out of leaving. Disparaging the surface and telling them they could live happily down here. Chara says no, it’s too hard because people are constantly hunting them down and being the last soul, no ones going to stop that. He says that he’s sorry for the way he was before

Chara smiles back, and then looks away: What you said before… about.. My inevitable death on the surface…

F: that was… don’t worry about that.

C: are you afraid of it?

F: well- yeah, it’s a dangerous place. Everyone knows that.

C: I’ve died a lot more times down here than I ever did up there.

A beat

C: you go back and forth a lot between talking about how I should stay down here because it’s better… but also if I die down here… everyone gets to go free… to the horrible, awful surface.

F: uh,, did I say all that…? I may have contradicted myself a little… I guess… in the end I just wanted an excuse for you to stay around. I really don’t want you to die.

C: so you did see me as a friend after all?

F: well…you reminded me of someone who was my friend. I wish we could have been friends.

C: Do you think… If I reset back to the beginning and did this again, if I said the right things… we could have been?

F: No… You could be as nice to me or as mean to me as you want. No matter how many times you reset, some things never change.

C: ...Did you ever… have to reset because you killed someone?

F: ……….once… and then I never reset ever again. The power to reset… makes you do bad things. It’s wrong. I had to stop because i knew… I’d make someone really upset if I kept messing around.

C: well, in that case… I guess I’ll just have to get the rest of the way out of here without any resets!

Flowey smiles: I dunno, keep one or two under your belt. You’re a pretty big klutz.

C: Thanks for helping me out of here, flowey. Even if you just did it because you were begged.

Can you imagine a more paranoid flowey who is less interested in attacking you and regaining the reset ability, but is pleased af that you have the reset ability because that means you can't die, and instead he spends the entire game trying to convince you that humanity is hopeless. That there is nothing on the surface world returning to. That it's safer, down here.

he's part of the reason why things are so much harder

he's the one that starts the rumors about the dangers of teh surface world

there's a definite sense of paranoia all across the board

When they approach new home, flowey appears one last time and grabs chara by the hand, telling them not to go. They can live in the underground, they’ve made a lot of friends here. Chara says that they have to go, they’ll find a way to get out without killing asgore. Flowey says that he tried to stop them, this is as far as he’ll go. This is goodbye. They bid their farewells and chara goes along, but flowey secretly follows them, much less detectable than ever before. It’s revealed when he’s hiding with the flowers.

Chara walks up to new home, regarding it as a vaguely familiar sight. They walk down the many halls knowing exactly where to go. The monsters speak as they go through the motions. They find a cookbook in the kitchen with a page for snail pie missing. Chara mumbles about already knowing the story and that they should all shut up. They walk more quickly to stay ahead of them. Then one mentions the snail pie and chara stops dead in their tracks. No that’s not how it happened- they stop, and take back off.

They are stopped by sans in the judgement hall, glaring at him.

S: well I had a whole speech to give ya, but you look like you’re in a hurry. You’re a weird kid, but you’re fine. The king’s up ahead.

OTHER alternative: chara realizes something’s wrong and runs back to get everyone, probably threatening to kill asgore to convince them to come quickly. Sans is avoided due to the mob approaching behind them “I heard the word that you’re on your way to kill the king.” c: are you here to stop me? “Nah. But you’d better have a good plan to back yourself up, kid. King’s up ahead”

They run up to asgore, no nonsense. Some time is taken to progress things. As they leave the throne room, flowey watches from the flowers, chara looks back to confirm he’s there.

Asgore draws up the souls, the fight is about to engage, before he can smash “MERCY” chara yells: ASRIEL. Get the souls.

Everything stops. Flowey is behind them, stunned and confused. Chara turns and asks him what he’s waiting for. Hurry up and take the souls before everyone else gets here. Nearly every last monster is coming, if he can become godlike and absorb them, it will be enough strength to break the barrier.

Flowey is confused, how do they know that? Chara tells him he did it before. Doesn’t he remember? Doesn’t he remember them?

Either flowey does it and something happens, or flowey waits too long and chaos erupts which gets them killed, and then chara and flowey have to meet up and workshop.

Final fight:

He probably says some shit about frisk and how he cant lose frisk again, chara must insist that theyre not frisk. When they say their name is chara, he hesitates for only a moment. Finally, when chara’s pinned and about to seriously die…

C: you remember it now too, don’t you? It took me a while, I couldn’t remember a thing until i started hearing your name around. You’re an all powerful god now, you should be able to remember it all better than me

A: shut up.

C: would frisk want us to fight like this?! Would frisk want you to kill your own sibling?!

A: c-.... You’re… you’re really chara?

He lets them go

They reach the conclusion that frisk messed with everything and put them here with no memories so they could do something frisk could never do. Frisk thinks they deserve to live, no matter how much the two may disagree. They have to play along. Asriel is a god and can use his powers to break the barrier and bring EVERYONE back to life so they can live together happily.

go to final fight and everyones already there, things are very confused, flowey takes the souls and things glitch out (screen phases between bosses) and chara realizes this isnt how things are supposed to be, tells asriel theyre sorry for their baggage but he doesnt understand bc he isnt theirs, and then they gotta find frisk somehow

OR... they realize things in the speech and don't go to fight asgore bc theyre finding flowey... they feign fighting asgore and then suddenly tell flowey to take the souls("Asriel! get the souls!" and thats the first time they call him by name)...? i like that a bit better. they start going on about crazy shit that makes roided out flowey kind of lose it at them which leads to them apologizing to their own asriel but then realizing they need to find frisk

but HOW do they find frisk

The end shows chara asriel and frisk hugging eachother, all alive and well. Then the two are “processing…” and remember that oh, theyve done some dark messed up stuff.

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

NO

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

*

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

*

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

*

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

LE

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

*

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

*

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Everyone likes to pretend Billy was never even there. Life goes on, people change, the past gets forgotten.

A year isn’t enough time for Max though. Right now it feels like the rest of her life wouldn’t be enough time, but Neil and Susan, they were doing just fine.

It’s almost like they like not having him around, that extra burden they couldn’t shake. The plan only Max knew was that Billy was going to stay at home until she was old enough to go with him so she’d be safe.

She knew he was fed up and looking at some local apartments within walking distance of Cherry Lane anyways, but then July happened, and Billy died.

Now it’s July again, and her hair is in twin braids of red with pure white ribbons on the end, and her and her mother are wearing matching blouses. There’s bruises under the bangle on her mothers wrist and one under Max’s own sleeve, and she just wants her brother back.

It’s a holiday they told her, her father (he’s not her fucking father, they never made her call him that when Billy was around) is a veteran, they have to celebrate. Better just dry her eyes and get over it.

Her mother invites all the family they have in the area over to their house for a little get together picnic, and they do their little happy family routine for a while, but Max can only handle so much of it.

Billy should be here by her side, flicking watermelon seeds at her face and putting ice cubes from the cooler down the back of her shirt, being an asshole to distract her from the reality of her family.

And that was that she didn’t really have one, a family. It was always just her and Billy.

Even at these events made for bonding with family, they were off to the side, messing around while the adults talked like they weren’t even there, and she knew she was a little naive then, but it stung more than ever, knowing that even after she’d lost her brother, nobody even stopped to say hi or check up on her, it was just straight into gossiping about the neighbors and those disrespectful bastards across the street who weren’t flying a flag for the holiday and family members who couldn’t be there.

But Max never heard Billy’s name come up even once, and not even in a respect to the dead boy and his grieving sister type of way, but rather, in the way that they just didn’t want to acknowledge his existence. None of these people had come to his graduation in May of last year, or his funeral two months later.

Billy was a taboo that the Hargrove-Mayfields didn’t dare taint their celebrations of freedom and justice with. The irony made Max sick to her stomach.

Or that was at least, until Neil couldn’t help himself.

His words are slurring already, with an excuse to party he’s on what Max would guess to be his fifth or sixth beer that afternoon, and someone just made the mistake of mentioning their own son, Billy and Max’s third cousin or something, and it spurs Neil off on a tangent about his.

“That boy was always good for nothing anyways. It’s almost the same now that he’s dead, ‘Cept maybe now I get some more quiet around the house.”

Nobody knows what to do when he says that, there’s a couple awkward laughs and one shocked gasp, that one was probably from her mother, but Max knows exactly what she wants to do.

What she wants is to watch Neil choking on his blood instead of her brother, his body being lowered into the ground instead of Billy’s, and in the moment she feels like she could be the one to make that a reality, but instead she just stands abruptly, a plate of the food her mother worked so hard to prepare for them she’d been too queasy to eat falling off her knees to the grass, and she says everything she’d bottled up for the past year.

“Don’t talk about Billy that way!

“Now, Maxine-“ Neil starts, but Max is livid, can’t hold back all the things she wished she had said before Billy died, when she got grounded after the funeral, when Neil started beating her, “No! I’m not going to let you do to me what you did to my brother! You don’t get to control me like you did him, it’s your fault that he’s dead!”

It’s her mother’s turn to try to stop her, slender hand covering her mouth painted red, “Maxine..”

“Stop trying to reason with me! I’m sick of pretending to be a family when I had to watch my own brother die! And I’m sick of being treated like I’m crazy for being the only one that cares about Billy!”

More than one person chimes in on that one, offended by the notion they don’t care about family, though it’s Neil that insists, in that faux calm, close to snapping voice of his, “We do care, Maxine. We’re all grieving in our own ways.”

She fires back, “Grieving what? The loss of your punching bag? You hated Billy! You don’t care that he’s dead, all that matters to you is having someone to hurt, and you no trouble adjusting to beating up on your wife and step-daughter instead!”

She catches a backhand to the face for that, and all the background chatter comes to a halt, Neil gritting out through his teeth, “Inside. Now.”

There are tears in her eyes that sting almost as much as the knuckle marks on her cheek, but Max feels like she won, getting her step dad all riled up in front of their family, she feels almost invincible, and she sneers all smug like and bitter, “I can’t go inside yet. I’m celebrating your service to our country, dad. You know, as a family.”

But when Neil's face turns as red as the blood that dripped from his wife’s nose the night before and he stands from his chair and drags her inside by the wrist himself, she realizes that it wasn’t exactly a win.

And when her brain goes numb trying to focus on both the repeated slaps and punches that explode like firecrackers across her skin and the way Neil is yelling and lecturing her until his voice is raw, giving her the same lessons her brother had burned into the back of his mind, she feels like she’s lost everything instead.

When she has to choke back her tears and apologize for embarrassing Neil and for making him hit her as punishment, she realizes, this isn’t a game that can be won or lost at all.

Max isn’t allowed to go back outside to the party. That rule goes unspoken, but words aren't necessary with the way Neil storms off without another word, slamming the back door behind himself. She’s slowly starting to figure out what the things her step father does instead of says mean.

She misses being allowed to be clueless, having someone to protect her or take what punishment she had earned. She wishes she wouldn’t have asked so much of Billy though.

Her own room isn’t safe anymore, what once had been the place she’d be ushered off to when Neil got bad had become more like a trap, the place Neil went to first when he was angry. Everything that had been hers felt wrong, so she goes to Billy’s room and doesn’t come out for the rest of the night. Even now that he’s gone, he still kept her safe.

There’s a welt on her face and fresh bruises forming everywhere, hot tears wetting her sunburnt cheeks and the pillows that smell like Billy, or at least used to before Susan decided his room needed cleaned and washed away every trace of her brother.

All night long there are fireworks going off, a big show put on by the city downtown has her shaking, unable to close her eyes for fear those distant explosions would take her back to the mall, bring back memories she’d never forget, and covering her ear with her hands.

The cracks and booms that shake her windows and her entire life, a headache and a heart break even stronger.

She tries her hardest not to think about Starcourt though, so instead she thinks about how Billy would’ve been proud of her for standing up to Neil. He would’ve called her an idiot, but he would’ve cleaned up her scrapes and held her through the panic attack after, and he probably would’ve liked to see the person Max was becoming too.

That makes Max’s heart hurt, the fact that he won’t get to. She cries harder, and she feels so alone without Billy.

Some part of her knows that she isn’t though. She isn’t the only one that lost somebody last July.

Hawkins’ cemetery was alive with flowers and wreaths and decoration, and more than anything the grieving. All of the victims had families, or in the case of the Holloway’s where their whole family was killed, they had friends and neighbors in the tight knit community who remembered them. El was still grieving Hopper, and Max knew Billy had people like that too.

Billy was popular, his death had a huge impact on the younger population of the town, but not only that, he had his closest friends, Steve and Tommy and Carol and Nicole and Adam from the pool, and of course Heather couldn’t be there, but those people were all keeping her brother alive.

As much as it felt like everyone was trying to forget him, they weren’t, and that brought Max a little bit of hope.

Hope that Billy would be remembered for the things he did right, and who he was behind the boy he had to be to keep them safe.

Hope that with his memory kept in the hearts of so many, the burden of grief wouldn’t fall solely on Max forever and make things a little easier.

Hope that the wound would someday heal, and she could look back on the time she did have with Billy, those seven too short years, with a smile on her face.

For now, she wraps herself in Billy’s jacket and comforter, listening to his music to drown out the distant fireworks, and dreams of the day when things won’t be like this, when she can leave Hawkins and all it’s bad memories and the “family” holding her back to live a life her brother would be proud of, a life that would honor his.

Max decides then with determination, flinching when a bright flash lights up her window, a loud echo through the quaint neighborhood, that she was going to do what Billy hadn’t been able to and break the cycle.

Tomorrow, she’d tell the school counselor she’d been assigned when her depression was at its worst all about Neil Hargrove.

[forestwater87]

Okay, for all of you who don't feel like watching Miles RP as David

Here are some of my favorite quotes. Context may be added if I feel like it. Reactions are my goblin brain screaming. All of these came from a discord so if they don't make sense . . . see goblin brain comment.

(That link should start directly at the point where he becomes David; if it doesn't, skip to 1:40:33)

In roughly chronological order:

David: "Teachers are sort of like camp counselors during the rest of the year."

The thing is David is absolutely up his own ass enough to think this.

David: "Trail mix is expensive!"

^ said to show he understands why not everyone can donate to the charity for teachers. Very adorable, am crying.

David's "ooooh" seeing one dude was extremely non-heterosexual. Fucking bicon. Him losing his mind that one of the arenas is called "Survey camp"

David: "A person's hitting me -- I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry this is just pretend!"

This is just canonically how David plays video games. Either this or he's unwilling to commit violence at all, but I'll defer to Miles.

David: "That's very goat of you!"

Spencer: "Is David popular amongst his campers?"

David: "I like to think so! There's only 3 staff members, so I'm definitely in everyone's top 3."

"That also means you're in the bottom 3."

David: "Well, I choose not to think of it that way."

(I have to keep adding reacts so you can tell when one quote ends and another begins. Judge not lest ye be judged)

I think the other person in the stream is named Spencer. Friend of Miles. I know literally nothing else about him and am not even confident on those facts.

Every time he says something so non-David in his David voice I die: "I have a lot of grenades!"

David: "Oh my goodness, would you look at this beautiful scenery! Can we hike that mountain?"

This is so goddamn cute. I am dying. Miles looked at his fans and said "they will eat tonight" and I am so relieved.

David: "Not to be a couple of Greedy Garys, but I say we get this [care package] and then I'll drop another one!"

The fact that Miles is grinning like a lunatic the entire time is very good. (Also if this is formatted badly then I'm sorry but not all that sorry. I'm doing my best and David would be proud of me.)

David: "Didja getim? Didja getim? didja getim? How 'bout now?"

Spencer: "I didn't get 'em."

David: "Well, you tried your best and that's all that matters."

He calls healing "a little health kiss." I'm not sure why but it's very important to me.

David: [while jumping to murder someone] "Hi! Scuse me!"

(i just need something to separate the quotes okay)

David: "Well you know what gang, we did our best. You don't always win the 3-legged race. You did a wonderful job!"

Then there's a bit where they talk about Spencer's time at summer camp:

David: "ooooh hand-holding's pretty serious!"

David is too pure.

David: [dreamily] "Did you fall in love, Spencer? A summer love?" [puts hands up to his face]

Then there's the fact that David/Miles gets to pick where they play each round, and he keeps insisting on going to the one called "Survey Camp" every single time because it has the word "camp" in it.

David: "Now, I don't like to disagree, but . . . I was thinking we could go . . . to Survey Camp!"

Spencer reminds him that technically since David's the one with the power to choose, his opinion is the only one that matters:

David: "Everyone's opinion matters. And my opinion is we're going to camp."

David just steamrolling over Spencer's interests is very good. There are these little selfish nuggets sprinkled in among the wholesomeness that really capture the full David experience.

David: "Well, he's climbing up . . . he's coming my direction . . . oh, he looks scary . . ."

Spencer: "Is he coming towards me?"

David: "Oooh, I don't know. I'm dead!"

The positivity is relentless. I think Miles said on twitter afterwards that this whole thing was exhausting and I can see why. Being David is no picnic . . .

David: "I have a question: do we have to shoot each other in this game?"

And then a few seconds later:

David: "I'm just wondering if maybe there's a way we can, you know, help others. Talk through our issues."

And a few seconds after that:

David: "I was asking if they wanted to be friends in the game!"

I believe that moved killed him, too. Precious.

Also we're interrupting the real Miles!David content to share something my friend suggested to me while I was watching this and giving her quotes; she said that maybe David just calls everything camp to make life more fun, and then sent me this imaginary exchange that actually killed me all the way to death:

David: Gwen Santos would you go to marriage camp with me

Gwen: I'm going to have to change this story when I tell everyone

It made me laugh quite a bit.

Anyway, back to the video!

Spencer: "How do you sign up for [Camp Campbell]?"

David: "Well, um, you can fax, uh, an application to CameronCCampbell@hotmail.realwebsite.noreallyrealwebsite.com. And . . . you can know that myself and Gwen and Quartermaster and sometimes Mr. Campbell will do our best to make sure they get what they need! Which more than anything is love and support. And friendship."

Spencer: "How many dollars does this camp cost?"

David: "You know . . . it is, um . . ."

And then the conversation switches subjects and David breathes a sigh of relief.

Very shortly after this he changed his character from a woman (she was wearing a yellow shirt, which he liked because the campers wear yellow shirts) to "a Forward Scout with a positive attitude!"

"I like his style."

Spencer: "Does everybody abuse David verbally?"

David: "You know, sometimes people have harsh words. Mostly Max, and Neil, and Gwen, and Quartermaster, and Nurf."

Spencer: "Did you just list almost everyone?"

David: "Mmm . . . I'd say maybe a third."

Poor David. Somebody please protect him.

Spencer: "Yeah, I think people abuse David. I get that vibe. Or at least, I feel it in my heart. Like I wanna put ants in your bunk or something."

David: "Well, I think that says more about maybe some of the hurt you're carrying with you. And sometimes when people don't know how to process that, they act out. Do you want some trail mix?"

David just said his favorite part of trail mix is the raisins which is so cute. "They have a little bit of salt on them, which isn't typical for a raisin."

And he keeps telling chatters to watch their language.

David: "Who is my favorite camper? Aww, you know I couldn't pick a favorite! . . . But I know who has the most potential, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

I KNEW IT!!!!!

I've been saying for years that David doesn't have a favorite and gravitates towards the ones he thinks need him the most AND I FINALLY GOT ONE RIGHT!

David: "Well you know, Gwen swears and that's okay."

shipping intensifies

David: [gasp] "The moss is growing on the north side of the rock!"

Every time he nerds out about weird shit in the game I gain 3 seconds to my life.

Spencer: "Did you get teabagged?"

David: "What's that?"

Spencer: "It's where somebody places their most intimate bits on you for . . . friendship."

David: [softly] "Oh, I don't know about that."

Also David confirms that the whole show has been a single summer, so please see the "vindication" gif above.

David: "I know a lot of fun camp songs."

Spencer: "Sing 3."

David: [starts singing] "Bum-bum-bumblebee, bumblebee tuna, I love bumblebee, bumblebee tuna . . ."

Spencer: "Okay, please stop. I immediately regret this decision."

David: "Max said the same thing! One of my campers. And, uh, and my co-counselor, Gwen."

He's literally made of sunshine. I would die for this fictional man.

Spencer: "Are people at camp against their will? I feel like they are."

David: "No! . . . They don't always like it immediately, but it grows on them."

Spencer: "It sounds like they're there against their will."

David: "Well I just think that's a negative way of looking at it."

FWIW Spencer makes an excellent foil to David. Not as aggressive as Max or as dour as Gwen, but he brings a very . . . like, straight-man energy to the conversation. Like how a normal person would react to David IRL. I'd enjoy seeing these two interact more.

Spencer: "It's like your overpositivity is wanting me to balance it out with negativity."

David: "You know, I feel like that dynamic's pretty popular with me."

eeeeeeee <3

And the last one that I personally found noteworthy:

David: "One day we'll be able to afford safety equipment. Until then, we'll just have to deal with Quartermaster's Ropes Course. And a lot of pillows."

There's point near the last 20 minutes where either it got kinda boring or I just got too tired to keep track. But if there are any quotes you think I missed, please share them! This was a really lovely bit of content to feed our starving maw, and I appreciate Miles very very very much for taking one for the team.