#someone got lazy on the design team

[fictionandfixation]

Idk about anyone else but I hear a small ‘sorry’ from arcane designers to silco enjoyers embedded in the steb character design lol

[mothmanavenue]

can i confess something else that will absolutely get me stoned in the town square since im dropping my unpopular opinions. I don’t like altean broadsword Lance. i already disliked red paladin Lance. the broadsword was like rubbing salt in the wound. why couldn’t he have his own niche. why was his character development just making him keith. i understand that it was like “he accepts that he doesn’t have to be a leader and excels as a co-leader and you can find happiness that way yada yada yada”. but you could’ve done that without making him keith. also now give him something unique, cool, that falls in line with his sniper bit. i’m not saying just give him another gun, im saying give him something quiet and lethal. like a garotte. yeah i want garotte lance.

i yap a lot more in my notes by the way if you were interested in other unpopular opinions. don’t send me hate messages or comments i won’t read it and will block viciously i also will not be debating this this is my hill to die on <3

[gumbydemographics]

what if your man was also just a baby girl

[genoskissors]

The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy - Initial Character Thoughts

This is going to have a lot of Danganronpa comparisons, name analysis, and just my overall thoughts on each character before the game is out. Feel free to comment your own thoughts!

Darumi Amemiya (飴宮 怠美)

"A young woman known for her mood swings and obsession with all things dark and depressing. She's a big fan of killing game stories and has no fear of death. If she has to die, all she wants is a death that's as dramatic and flamboyant as humanly possible."

Crazy thing I'm about to say, she reminds me of Genocide Jack. She sticks her tongue out a lot and seems to be completely desensitized to anything regarding death. It makes me think she's just desperate for a thrill in her life.

I don't really like her design but I think if the vibrant colors were turned down, it would be much better. I do enjoy it in a way, being able to dress however you want reveals a lot about someone's confidence. I love how she looks in her other outfit and I honestly think if her shirt was less white, I'd love her hair.

Ame means candy, miya means palace, daru means lazy, and mi means beauty. Daru is not common in names, so it definitely has a meaning. This name doesn't have any straightforward meaning to me, but I suppose Darumi is a more unique character. Her name might make sense later. I do theorize, for the lazy part, she was bored before getting into dark stuff, kinda like Junko.

Eito Aotsuki (蒼月 衛人)

"Takumi's most trusted ally. Eito cares very deeply for his friends and isn't shy about expressing those feelings, corny as they may sound. He's been weak and sickly since he was little, but his impressive intellect might be just what the team needs to guide them through the war safely."

We are all thinking about the exact same image. Anyway, I think I'll love him because it seems he has a bit of a crazy side as well (I love crazy people). He's also very forward and compassionate, so I'll enjoy seeing both sides of him.

He looks like one of Nagito's beta designs which I think tells me everything I need to know. I find him cute but his jacket being the same color as his skin kinda throws me off. I'm also curious as to why he wears gloves, he's dressed like it's winter.

Ao means blue and tsuki means moon. His first name is interesting, as the kanji for Ei is the same kanji used in the game's title, meaning defense. To means human and is also a common ending for a boy name. I find the term blue moon fitting for his appearance, and I assume his role in battle will mostly be defense.

Gaku Maruko (丸子 楽)

"A guy who's true to his personal desires (to put it delicately). He's a coward and always looking out for himself. However, there's something so refreshingly honest about his pettiness that it's hard to hate him. Gaku's also good at taking care of other people once he opens his heart to them."

I will not lie, I don't think I'm going to like him. I'm okay with a character being a coward and I'm okay with a character being selfish, but both does not seem like a mood maker to me. I think I'll find him annoying but I'll be happy to be surprised.

He's got some patchwork in his clothes, so I think he might come from a troubled past. His shirt is really stupid looking though, but it's stupid enough to circle back to being slightly cute.

Maru means round and ko means child, but together, Maruko is a type of meatball. Not exactly the same as Western ones, but very similar. Gaku means comfort. I think his first name goes well with the fact he takes good care of those close to him. In Japanese, Gaku is also a homophone for the word school. As for Maruko, I don't know.

Hiruko Shizuhara (雫原 比留子)

"Leader of the Special Defense Unit. A cold, almost heartless beauty, she always says what's on her mind, even if it means offending others. She's just as merciless on the battlefield, where she gets a twisted sense of pleasure from tearing invaders apart."

She enjoys murder, I think I'll like her. I'm very curious as to why she's considered the leader of the group. The way she's described as merciless on the battlefield makes me think she has murdered before. Maki but a little more crazy (I love crazy people).

She has a lot going on that I really enjoy, the piercings, the makeup, the hair clip. She's also 5'11, which I think will be funny next to our 5'6 protagonist.

Shizu means droplet and hara means original, but is also just a common ending for Japanese surnames, like Saihara and Gokuhara. Hi means compare, ru means remain, and ko means child. Hiruko, spelled 蛭子, is also one of the names of Ebisu, a God of fishing, wealth, and fortune. Ebisu also uses the kanji 比, which is in Hiruko's name. Her last name is also water related.

Ima Tsukumo (九十九 今馬)

"One of a set of twins - Ima is the elder by a few minutes. He acts like a carefree joker, but underneath that humor is a hint of something darker. A hardcore siscon, he thinks of nothing but protecting his sister. If anything or anyone dares to threaten Kako's safety, Ima will show them no mercy."

This might ruin people's perception of me, but I don't care that he's a siscon. Like at all. It might be an uncomfortable attribute but after four Danganronpa games, I could not be less phased. I think I'll like him since he seems silly but also a little crazy (I love crazy people).

One of the cutest characters here. I thought he was a girl at first but he just has luscious eyelashes. I love the color of his hair and the streaks in it, I think they go well with his eyes. His sprite here looks very chummy.

Tsukumo means ninety-nine, which is one less than a hundred and how many days they have left after day one. Ima by itself means now but his name only uses the “I” part of it and then uses horse for the ma part. Basically 今 = Ima and 今馬 = Ima. It would be the same with or without the last kanji, but I assume it's there to make it seem more like a name. However, I can't help but connect him to Oma.

Kako Tsukumo (九十九 過子)

"One of a set of twins - Kako is the younger by a few minutes. She's prone to spacing out, but also has a keen mind and a healthy sense of curiosity. Kako is a big fan of mystery stories and wants to be a private investigator when she grows up."

She seems like a regular teenager to be honest, but the spacing out and solving mysteries reminds me of Chiaki. I think I'll like her, but I can't really pin her personality based on this description.

I adore her hairstyle and her bow. The color of her hair looks really nice with her eye color. Funny enough, I didn't realize her and Ima were siblings until I saw the eyes. Like the uniform did not give it away for some reason.

Like her brother, Kako's last name means ninety-nine. The kanji for ka means past, contrasting the meaning of her brother's name. I like to theorize there will be a character named something including future, but that's a reach. Ko means child, it's a very common ending for female names. It might just be to make Kako seem more like a name, but perhaps it also represents childishness.

Kurara Oosuzuki (大鈴木 くらら)

"The scion of one of the most wealthy families humanity has ever known. She's proud, overbearing, and acts like she's better than anyone else. She always wears a strange tomato mask, never showing her true face."

I like the proud type of character, someone like Miu or Byakuya. She seems to be more focused on degrading others than uplifting herself though, but that's just based on her quote. I also really want to see her face but oddly if it's never shown I won't be disappointed.

I don't really care for masks that completely cover a character's face, I like to see at least some parts, but the fact the mask expresses emotions makes me content with it. I also thought it was a Jack-o-Lantern at first, but I guess it's just a scary tomato? The rest of her outfit is nice, fits the rich girl thing.

Oo means great, suzu means bell, and ki means tree. Suzuki is a very common Japanese last name, so adding great in front of it makes sense for her prideful personality. Kurara is a type of plant that is very bitter. I assume this will also relate to her personality.

Kyoshika Magadori (凶鳥 狂死香)

"A young samurai who's utterly clueless about the modern world. Has never even heard of multiplication tables, let alone learned them. She has a disturbingly close relationship with her katana, the Holy Jumonji Sword."

Kyoshika is who I think my favorite character will be. She's very Tenko like, a character I love very much. Her birthday is 11/11 which I hope is a joke about how she cut 1111 perfectly in half. While she isn't very modern, I can still see she has a reliable personality. Her name also hints she might be a little crazy (I love crazy people). Lastly, Ninja's are cool.

I love her outfit, especially the katana on her hip and the huge cape. She also has a normal ponytail, not often seen in Danganronpa. I like how her ponytail looks like a shuriken. Her face reminds me of Maki a bit, another character I love. I also love the colors. I just really love her so far.

We have a very straightforward name here. Maga means bad or unlucky and dori means bird. Unlucky bird? Crows are often associated with death, but that might not be the message it's going for. Kyoshi literally means crazy to death. Ka means scent, but is also just a common ending for a girl name.

Moko Mojiro (喪白 もこ)

"A young woman who is blowing up on the high school pro wrestling scene. Her courage and boundless energy is a source of inspiration for the entire Special Defense Unit. Whenever she has a problem, she faces it head on. She didn't choose the wrasslin' life - it chose her."

Her personality reminds me a lot of Aoi. Probably with more courage though. She seems like she'll get along better with girls than boys. The boundless energy makes me think she'll be fun to play, but we'll see.

We finally got ourselves another buff woman, Sakura fans rejoice. I like how her hair, face, and outfit are cutesy, it shows she can be physically strong while still being girly, something Sakura wanted.

Sigh... I don't get her name at all, Mo means mourning and jiro means white. Her first name is in Hiragana so I don't know the exact meaning, nor do I really have an idea on her last name. I thought about Peko and how pekopeko is an onomatopoeia. Mokomoko is an onomatopoeia for something thick and soft. Not sure if that relates to her personality. I'd say her last name is a death flag but everyone dies in this game so that doesn't mean much.

Nozomi Kirifuji (霧藤 希)

"A high schooler who combines a kindhearted nature with dogged determination in battle. She's very passionate about the Special Defense Unit's mission, but also seems to be hiding something. For some reason, Nozomi is identical in appearance to Takumi's childhood friend Karua."

I'm a sucker for characters hiding a big secret, so I'm excited for hers, I assume it's related to Karua but how so? Much to think about. She's kind and passionate, so I think she'll be very easy to like as a character.

Cute, cute, cute, cute, cute!!! She is adorable from her hair to her shoes. I really like her hair especially. Her name is cute too. I think she's my favorite design overall, it's pleasing to look at.

Kiri means fog, which, like Kirigiri, I believe represents the mysterious aspect of her. Fuji means wisteria, which are purple just like her. Nozomi means hope, which is a name I was surprised Kodaka never used. I always thought Nozomi would be a great name for Chiaki, but I'm getting off track. Overall her name is peaceful but mysterious, fitting her description.

Shouma Ginzaki (銀崎 晶馬)

"A young man who, by his own admission, has absolutely nothing going for him. On a scale of one to ten, his self-esteem's at negative five. He's constantly putting himself down."

It seems like a lack of self-worth is gonna be his whole thing. I'm not really looking forward to it. Nagito did it too, but was also a very positive person, but it seems Shouma is just depressed. I just don't want everything he says to be about how he's worthless.

His design is okay. I think I'd like it better without the hat but it's not too bad, just makes him look a little immature. I do think his face and haircut are cute. He's also very small.

Gin means silver and zaki means small peninsula, but is mostly associated with being an ending for a surname, so I doubt it changes the meaning. Shou means crystal, and like in Ima, ma means horse. The silver and crystal parts are definitely connected, maybe he's wealthy? Or maybe it symbolizes his personality instead. Not very sure.

Takemaru Yakushiji (厄師寺 猛丸)

"An old-school delinquent who lives to ride and rides to live. Despite his rough-and-ready demeanor, Takemaru's really a nice guy on the inside. Impulsive, straightforward, and honorable to a fault, he's sworn to never use his strength to bully the weak."

He seems like a generally good character but I can sense there will be a lot of him yelling. Honestly, he just seems a lot like Mondo to me, so I don't have much to say. I like Mondo but I'm not sure we need another one. Also he says he doesn't hit girls, kids, or the eldery, so first thing I know is he sees girls as weak.

Give him the corn hair and he's literally Mondo. I do like Takemaru's hair though, it's kinda cute. He's got a lot of scars on his face, so I feel like he might be a little reckless. All the characters have dull skin but I feel some vibrance would do him good.

Yaku means disaster or evil, shi means master, and ji means temple. The temple part adds up with the old school aspect, like in Saionji and Shinguji. The first part likely just represents him being a delinquent. In his first name, Take means fierce and maru means round. I think this is mostly just a pun, “Takemaru Hair” is a hair style associated with delinquents.

Takumi Sumino (澄野 拓海)

"The main character of this story. A completely average high schooler from a completely average family. He can be a little indecisive and pessimistic at times, but when he has something to protect, he'll fight with everything he's got."

Classic average high schooler as our protagonist, expected for these kinds of stories. I'm in no way a hater of the archetype, I love Makoto, Hajime, and Komaru lots, so I think I'll like him too. His introduction is pretty negative, but I find pessimism to be an endearing trait, so I feel like I'll love him.

I'm not really a fan of the bright red hair, but it's not bad. I would like if the red and black in his hair switched. Also, classic ahoge. I find his eyes beautiful, they're very sharp, great for a pessimist. Not much to say about his outfit.

I don't know why but I really like his name and the kanji used in it. It just sounds and is written nice. Sumi means clear and no means field, but it's also just a common ending for surnames. Taku means opening land and mi means ocean. I think the opening land part fits the fact he's in a new place and the sea is more metaphorical for how vast it is.

Tsubasa Kawana (川奈 つばさ)

"A young woman who knows a lot about machines and what makes them tick. She had a bright, lively personality, but isn't good with stressful situations. When she gets nervous, she gets nauseous, and then..."

She is so cute I already know she'll be one of my favorite characters. She's energetic and social but gets sick when nervous, I can very much empathize with her... If this game has things like free time events, I'd like to spend some with her.

I absolutely adore her design. Her hair is beautiful, her entire outfit is cool, I like the way she carries herself. She also has the classic Danganronpa mouth mole, a need for all of Kodaka's games. Her necklace thing is odd but I'll look past it.

Kawa means river and na means doubts, however, the kanji for na isn't really known for its meaning and is mostly associated with being a part of a name. The last sentence implies she throws up when nervous, so, for lack of better phrasing, maybe the river represents that? And doubt is what fuels that nervousness? I think I'm reaching here. Tsubasa means wings, which I think is bright and lively like her personality.

Yugamu Omokage (面影 歪)

"A striking young man who's been in the business since long before the war started. Unlike the rest of his family (who are also assassins, by the way), Yugamu believes that killing should be done with love. He enjoys torture and other immoral forms of pleasure."

He's crazy like for real crazy (I love crazy people). His description makes me raise an eyebrow about what exactly "immoral forms of pleasure" are but I won't make assumptions until the game is out. He kills for love which reminds me of a character I love with all my heart. He'll never compare to her but it's okay.

The outfit is very nice but the random organs are a bit odd. That's probably the point, but it's just really random. I find him ugly and I love it. His hair is also bad and I love it. I love this ugly boy.

Omokage means face shadow, referring to imagining someone's face with your mind. Kind of like imagining someone, usually dead, is there with you. Yugamu means distorted. Another on the nose name. Remembering a face but it's distorted, could refer to his own scarred face, or perhaps forgetting what someone who has passed away looks like. He has a strong connection with love, so perhaps someone he once knew. It likely just refers to his own face.

Sirei and Nigou (ＳＩＲＥＩ) & (ＮＩＧＯＵ)

"The principal and commanding officer of Last Defense Academy. To put it another way, a weird little robot that orders the members of the Special Defense Unit around. Under his command, Takumi and the others will be working to wipe out the mysterious School Invaders." "Sirei's assistant and second in command. An odd little robot that has a gentle, caring personality, but is also prone to making careless mistakes. He's completely loyal and subservient to Sirei."

I'll keep it short and simple, if these two aren't funny I won't care for them at all.

I kinda like their designs. It's unique how you can see their brain and heart, but I think that's because those two are the most vital organs. Also, what's with Nigou's lips? I don't even know their gender so I'll just use they/them for the time being. The English description says "He" but the Japanese text doesn't explicitly use he and there no other instance to use.

Their names are romanized in Japanese as well, so they don't have an obvious meaning, but I have a theory! I believe Sirei is 司令 “Shirei” meaning in command and Nigou is 二号 “Nigou” meaning number two, as in second to Sirei. Sirei and Shirei are pronounced the same in Japanese.

Final Thoughts

I'm hyped for this game. I haven't talked about the gameplay aspects but my absolute favorite thing in games is multiple endings. A hundred endings is a paradise for me. A lot of the sneak peaks leave me curious, so I'm excited to play it. April 24th! I think I'll enjoy the cast. I also like the majority of Kodaka's characters because they're so complex, so I have no doubts about loving this new cast.

Sorry for any spelling errors, this was a lot to proofread.

[coff33andb00ks]

OSCAR + 30!!!💘💘

30: brushing against each other, linking fingers together for a second <this got slightly smutty and i'm not sorry>

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

It was supposed to be easy. PDA wasn't your thing anyway. But the closer you grew to Oscar the harder it was to not reach for him. Because when it was just the two of you, alone, you had free rein over his body. And you loved his body, could easily spend hours tracing the curves and dips of each muscle. You knew every freckle, every line. You'd learned how to touch him when he was stressed, when he was hyper, and when he was sleepy. You'd learned where and how to stroke to have him gasping your name in that deep, needy way that made your head spin.

Just as much as you loved his body, you loved his hands on yours. They could comfort, they could soothe. They could silence the constant noise in your head. They sparked flames inside you that you'd never imagined. They cradled, they caressed, they gripped, they sometimes bruised, they worshipped. It wasn't surprising to you that you got turned on just looking at his hands sometimes.

And oh, you loved his fingers. Whether they were brushing away tears or interlocked with yours while he made love to you, they were your favorite part of him. You adored the calluses, the length, the girth, even the tiny freckle most people probably weren't aware was on his thumb. They eased your soul, they combed through your hair on lazy afternoons. They teased and enticed, made you scream. They curled around yours so perfectly, as though your hands had been designed by gods to fit together, and though you may shift and move throughout the night his fingers would still be holding yours in the morning.

Right now, you want those hands. Those fingers. You don't care how, exactly, you just crave them. You need the quiet solace in the circus that was media day that only your boyfriend's hands and fingers could provide.

We'll keep it quiet, yeah? Nobody's business but ours.

You and your stupid fucking ideas. What had you been thinking, telling him you wanted your relationship to be a secret? You must have been delirious when you'd said that. Worst of all, what kind of selfish bastard would agree?

You stew in your misery, watching him use his hands to talk while he speaks with the media. You fold your arms over your chest, chewing on your lip while he juggles tennis balls with ease. He sees you watching and gives you his stupid, cheesiest grin and you almost, almost, flip him off and try to focus on your actual job, because if you don't Charles will say something he shouldn't and you don't have the energy to deal with his lack of public relation skills.

The day moves on, time seeming to go slower for some godforsaken reason, and now there's fan interactions to watch. Oscar clutching a marker should be a crime, honestly. Then there's the insanity that is getting back to the team hubs for debriefs, and he's right ahead of you, yapping away with Lando, his hands swinging with each step.

You walk a little faster, and from behind you someone calls out to Oscar. He stops and turns and you're pushed towards him by someone that you hope is blessed beyond measure for eternity.

Three seconds. Three seconds of utter peace as you're brushing against him. His eyes meet yours and you can see the love shining in them, his hand grazing yours. The warmth only he can supply is a protective bubble, his fingers twining with yours for barely a second.

The bubble is burst and you apologize to him while someone apologizes to you, and your fingers tingle as your swept away.

But at least now you're no longer miserable.

[obamas-eyebrow]

05/The Pawn.

7th floor x female reader (the 8 show)

Masterlist

WC:7.5K. specific chapter warnings: Violence starvation etc, etc (it's that evil episode)

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅::]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

His eyes slowly opened to some lazy strumming and a pounding headache. Judging be the things hanging from the ceiling, he was not in his room. The source of the irritating sound was a tall, blurry man sat in front of him on a chair. With all the energy he could muster up, he pushed himself to sit as he tried to recall how he got here. A moving figure in the far corner of the room, 8th floor he’d assume, sat in that obnoxious bathtub, grooming herself. 

“What happened?” He groaned.

“Isn’t it obvious? You got caught.” 6th replied. 

Oh yes, the king’s game. 

What a mess. He shut his eyes and sighed, breathing it all in. 

He tried to think of a thousand different reasons they’d keep him here, why they had held him…hostage? He wasn’t actually sure of anything at the moment. A hand from his right pressed something into his temple, and he winced as the burn set in. He glanced over to the final team member, 4th floor.

“I know you helped them to be on equal footing with us, but that’s boring. No one would watch,” He continued plucking at the strings.  “It needs to pack a punch.”

“You know how the system here is. It’s designed to keep the higher floors in charge of the lower floors, so why would you go and side with them and mess that up,” He stated plainly “What are you? Some kind of limousine liberal?” 

The only thing he could do was stare at the bruised man’s face, an attempt to read where he was going with this. 

“We’re gonna make them a lot of money, they’ll thank us in the end.”

8th floor had put together a compilation of games, regular games, but with higher stakes and harsh penalties. 6th floor was in charge of said stakes and penalties; most games involving him directly hurting the participants. He was also the one to come up with the winner’s ‘reward��, hurting others. A layer of psychological torment to go hand in hand with the physicals of it all. They also had a plan of stripping the others of all purchasing power, breaking the phone in all the rooms and locking the main one in the square. When both of them were done explaining their twisted desires, they looked at him, as if waiting for him to speak. To find a flaw in their plan perhaps. To be fair, had there been one, he would’ve probably let it slip, giving the other floors the chance of an out. But there wasn’t, he knew 8th floor was not an easy mind to look past, plus she spent a full 3 days thinking this up. There was nothing he could do. From this position, the bad side, he could at least try to figure out a way to ruin the plan from the inside. If he chooses to play the hero now, he’d be worthless. That was the main reason he was getting on board with this, anyway. Maybe the smaller, more selfish part of him, saw this as a them or me, and he really wasn’t someone who could take that kind of pain. He thought of you, eyes fixed on the fuzzy carpet, he thought of how you’d take this. You two were just starting to get comfortable, partly his fault, and now you’ll likely never want to speak to him again. 

He should’ve kissed you when he still had that chance. 

He gave them a short nod, eyes unable to meet theirs. 

“You need to contribute, too.” 8th hummed.

“What?” he breathed out.

“You need to come up with something we could add to make it worse, call it a guarantee. That way; your hands are just as bloody as ours.” She clarified. 

The realisation of what she was asking dawned on him.

 Bloody. What a vile word. 

He spent the better part of the afternoon trying to come up with a weak addition, something that could be used as an out and at the same time seem cruel enough. But of course, 8th floor always saw right through him, pointing out the stupidity of his suggestions over and over again. He’d never felt so helpless, so defeated. Bested at his own battle of wits. He should’ve been harsher, lied at the vote count, turned the other eye with 4th, but he knows deep down it would’ve only delayed the inevitable. 

6th floor left to execute phase one of the plan, the chute phone situation, leaving him and the other 2 women alone in the room. 8th eyed him, almost seductively. 

“I like you 7th,” she leaned down infront of him, dropping her head to meet him eye to eye. She batted her eyes a few times at him, unsatisfied with his lack of reply. 

“You and 5th…” She gave him a sympathetic look, had he not known better, he’d think she meant it. “What would she think, seeing you on our side.” 

It was at that he realised, this was a punishment for him, too. 

. . .

Worry had taken up the better part of your day, as you sat on the swingset facing the doors, hoping for any sign of him. A few hours earlier; 6th floor had made his way to the main chute when no one was paying attention and locked the phone there in a cage. He also bought himself a baseball bat and used it to batter your personal phones. So that’s where you knew him from. You were now entirely helpless, unable to buy anything to defend yourselves from whatever was to come. But your mind only stayed on 7th. Why the hell were they keeping him there, what were they doing to him? You recalled the way a little of his blood dripped down his face and hoped he didn’t see that for himself. That’s all you had, just hope. Time kept going up but you were none the wiser as to why. The mystery of it all was eating away at you. No food was delivered to quench your hunger. So you sat, and waited. 

The other floors filtered back down, joining you around the swingset. You discussed theories as to what could be happening, arriving at absolutely nothing. 

“I just feel bad for 7th, he was making sure we all do well. What the hell could they want with an unconscious man” you sighed.

“Maybe to get him on their side, with the chute and all, it would be difficult with him in the middle.” 1st suggested, and that actually made alot of sense. 

“If that’s the case, that’s awful. He was the smartest of us” 3rd groveled, you gave him a look.

“Hey! I’m pretty smart.” 2nd replied and you shot her a smile. 

It was almost 8pm now, around six hours since you last saw him. You were beginning to lose patience and considered calling it in for the night, when the door to 8th floor opened and they all came out. 

Something was wrong though, 6th had his arm around 7th, a little too friendly for two people who really weren’t that close. It filled you with unease. 

“7th floor, are you feeling ok?” 3rd stuttered.

“I’m going to announce how things will be from now on.” He kept his eyes straight, avoiding everyone’s questioning gazes. “We currently have 160 hours left. From now until the agreed upon end date, you will have to earn time, just as before, your goal will be 24 hours each day.”

“What do you mean your goal” you had your eyes fixed on him, looking for anything in his face to indicate- well…anything. He kept his expression rigidly neutral, no remorse, no shame, nothing. His lip was swollen from the excitement from earlier and you wanted nothing more than to kiss it better, but the current circumstances clearly would not allow something like that. “Aren’t we supposed to be doing this together?” Your voice shook a little. 8th giggled at that, hair put up in a nice ponytail to match her new outfit. 

“Are you making us earn time while you guys weasel out?” 2nd challenge. 

3rd tried to defend 7th in face of 2nd’s accusations but 7th was not denying anything, in fact, he went on to say;

“You can refuse if you want to, but meals won’t be provided”

“We’ll die, the show will end!” 3rd pleaded.

“No, we will not let you starve.”

That simple, to him, it was all that simple. It bothered you, how he could play both sides with no repercussions, marching around like he owns the place. 

They moved through your little group to get to the chute and begin the fun. It hadn’t all set in yet, this whole predicament, you kept your eyes on him hoping that maybe, he’ll slip up. 

7th called 3rd up to have the pick of the first game, hide and seek. But we had to pick a body part for some reason and you stupidly picked legs, though most of you were at a disadvantage here; 1st needing his hands for balance, 2nd being unable to see and you unable to walk. It was already clear who the winner will be. You tried to give it your best as they counted down to when they’ll seek, hopping as far as you can. You though maybe if you could just get to the stairwell. But alas, all too late. 6th had already begun seeking and determination was replace with dread, fear. He was not using his bat, but an object that clearly went with the rest of the kit they divided. It had sharp metal on the end and you shuddered, frozen in your spot as you witnessed him catch 1st floor. He found you next, but you’d given up on hiding a while ago, choosing to save whatevers left of your dignity. He approached you with a huge smile on his face, 8th trailing closely behind but her eyes were looking for other victims. 

“Go on, run.” He laughed. You said nothing. His favorite target was still roaming around and he’d clearly prefer to have his fun with 2nd rather than you. So with a roll of his eyes he swung the thing across your face, leaving blood in it’s wake, then twice more for good measure, knocking you down. He turned towards 2nd and embarked on what will probably be his favorite part of the night, leaving you where you were, some blood on your cheek. With her though, he was relentless, abandoning the tool in favor of his own fists with no intention of stopping. Had it not been for 7th pulling him off of her, you would guess he would’ve went all the way. What a knight in shining armour. 

Your head was wrapped tightly with some tape, compressing bruises and cuts on various areas of your face and only allowing very little area to breathe. 3rd mumbled apologies through the gag, you wished he’d just get it over with. This was the ultimate reward; less pain. And so he spun, 10 spins, and then swung. You braced for impact that never came, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it was, considering 1st was on your right. 

“Breathe! Breathe! He can’t breathe!” You panicked a little at 3rd’s voice next to you, hands struggling with the tape on your face after 4th undid your hands. You rushed over to 1st’s aid, getting the remaining tape off him and checking his pupils using a ray of light from the ceiling. He was fine, a little shaken up from the blow but only surface injuries. You were still at 1st’s sides when 7th spoke up again. 

“26 hours from the first game is very impressive. You get one coin for every 3 hours, but as a token of gratitude, we will reward you with 9 coins. Now, please write the number of coins you want to receive on paper, if the total exceeds 9, then we will take all the coins back.”

You turned your head slowly to him. Realisation slowly dawning on you. 

“So if the number is more than nine, we leave empty handed?” 1st stuttered, clutching his head.

“Yes, and you are forbidden from discussing this.”

The others turned to look at eachother, perhaps in an attempt to signal a plan. 

“He’s pretty smart isn’t he?” 6th plopped down next to a smiley 8th.

That’s what hit the nail on its head.

Up until this very moment, you held your breath and gave him the benefit of the doubt. You believed that they must’ve had him under some sort of awful threat, leaving him no choice but to do this. But the money thing? Group punishment and individual reward is something none of those airheads could put together. What kind of captors allow their hostages a hand in the fun? 

He came up with this. 

“This is you…” you kept your eyes trained on him as you rose slowly, several pairs of eyes watching you with curiosity, and one of them in heavy amusement. 

“You traitor, this is you!” His gaze only found yours for a split second, but he intentionally kept it empty and unassuming, fixing his eyes back onto the distance. You made your way to him in pure unfiltered anger. 

“None of those morons could come up with this you motherf-” you were at the bottom of the stairs, only a step or two away from him when 6th put the bat at your throat, forcing you to stop. 

“That’s no way to speak to your superior.” he gave a very hardened expression. 

“My superior? Oh get your head outta your a-” 

“Watch it.” He pushed you back to place himself between you and 7th floor, was he actually protecting him?

“I’m not afraid of you.” You scoffed at 6th, eyes boring into his. 

He didn’t take you seriously, instead, he laughed. And without turning back he said;

“I can see why you like her 7th, such an entertaining thing she is.” He moved his hand to cup your cheek and you immediately swatted it away, angering him, landing you a rough kick back into the pool. You hit your head in whiplash pretty hard as you watched him sauter away back to 8th. 

And dear old 7th floor? Still had his body unmoved from his position, not even sparing you a look of sympathy.

You sat in your room later that night, feeling so empty and played as you waited for the delivery of 1 meal and 1 water. Not enough calories for the effort you’re giving, that’s for sure. Tears that had collected at the corner of your eye were now flowing freely down your face. 

How could you be so, so stupid. So blind. Was this the man that 2nd floor saw? No, even she had began liking him. Had he been living a lie with you that whole time? Keeping himself busy until he moved on to the next interesting thing? Were any of the moments you two shared sincere? Was it all just games within games? 

The croak of the chute cut your train of thought off, opening to show 3 meals and 4 water bottles. You had wondered how they’d deliver each individual meal, seeing as taking them room to room was impossible. This sucked though. You’re going to have to consciously make the decision of taking a meal and a water knowing that 3rd, who used his brain a tad bit more than needed, will have to actively make the decision of just grabbing a water. You hesitated, he did just have the best interest of the group in mind, hurting only himself in the process. Leaving him your meal would be kind. But on the other hand, your stomach was growling, head pounding from the beatings you took earlier. 3rd had won, making the tally of times he got hit today a whopping zero. But its not like you mean to sound like you’re punishing him for winning…Maybe you’re overthinking this. 

“Hurry up!” 4th floor pounded on your door, leading you to just take the decision of taking your share and moving on. You gave a quick look-over the meals, two chicken, one shrimp. Was that for you? You grabbed it anyway, deciding to mull it over when 4th was gone. 

Logically, it would more likely be just a coincidence. But what if he purposefully. 

What the hell are you smoking. This is not him, the beef probably just looked better today. Plus, even it it were him, what difference does it make? He’s still a lying piece of crap and a meal won’t fix that. 

Plus you’re done thinking so highly of him. 7th floor. You should have guessed. 

. . .

He couldn’t get any sleep, clothes folded neatly at the bedside as he lied uder the cover. The higher rooms are warmer than the lower ones, that’s why he is able to sleep like this so comfortably, the blanket helps too. His mind wouldn’t quieten as guilt and shame weighed heavy on his heart. He knew, in no way was he a victim here. In fact, he could’ve joined you, stood at your side while you tried to figure a way out, together.

But he didn’t. 

Because he’s a coward.

 He had taken very little risks up until this moment and, old habits die hard. The one real risk he’s ever taken was backed by his parents’ exorbitant amount of money, protecting him from any actual harm. There’s a reason why everything in his room was straightened out. A reason why his uniform seemed more pristine than everyone else’s, even if he was the only one to notice. He reveled in routine, continuity. He wasn’t the type of man to venture out to try new things. As pathetic as it sounds, you were the break from his ordinary. Bursting in with spontaneity and unpredictableness. Even if he was just referring to your constant boredom with his favourite games. You’d even unknowingly got him to start drawing again, even if it was primitive sketches. But he had no right. No right at all to be missing you in this moment, when he put a wall between you with his own two hands. And he doubts you’re missing him right now. Actually you’ve probably cussed out his entire bloodline, 3rd too. He had tried to apologise, in his own way, by hiding that meal so that he could send it to you. Now that he says it back to himself, he just feels stupid, pathetic actually. He tries to remind himself that, at the end of the day, you’re all here for money, and you’re not leaving empty handed so maybe you could look past this?

How selfish. How selfish of him to anticipate your forgiveness when he couldn’t even spare you a glance of sympathy, the mouthing of I’m sorry. Truth is, he felt if he’d met your eyes for too long his composure might break. And…And nothing, it would’ve definitely been entertaining for the upper floors, the audience too. But he didn’t want to appear like that, that’s the best reasoning he could rationalise to himself. He tried to even his breathing, willing himself into dreams where you still sat by him at the chess set, making up moves as you go. 

The following day’s draw had you playing 20 questions. He sat on the playset by 6th floor, encouraging 8th to start. His eyes naturally went to you, as he’d been accustomed to for the past month or so. You had your head held down in defeat, tilted slightly to the side of your hurt cheek. It was swollen, so was the area around your eyes. You’d been crying, he felt dizzy. Today, you had chosen not to look for his eyes it seems, and he wasn’t sure if he should be happy or upset. On one hand, he wouldn’t have to run away from your looks anymore, granting him relief from last night. But on the other, knowing you, it meant that you’d given up on him, accepted him for what he is; a traitor, in every sense of the word. 

2nd guessed the answer to the supid game, crowning her as executioner. It hit 3rd, and again, you rushed to his aid as soon as your restraints were undone. 4th had learned to untie you first, seeing as you were the most useful, at least that’s what he would assume anyway. 3rd had passed out, maybe because 2nd was the one swinging, and he watched from his spot as you all carried the unconscious man up to his room. 

. . .

You were stuck in this cycle for almost a week, stupid games with sick twists and then spinning. So much spinning. 

You screamed a little when the bat collided with the side of your head, a string of apologies spilling from 1st floor’s mouth as you tried to avoid inhaling your own blood. It was scary, terrifying even, the feeling of suffocation with no ability to save yourself. He rushed to take the constraints off your face, allowing you reprieve. You wheezed and coughed up some of the blood that managed to slip into your larynx, drops of it contrasting the white of your pants. You grabbed your chest in desperation, hoping your body will regulate things soon. 

You put down the same number of coins you always do, but someone had other plans, you were now one above the limit, meaning…

“You get no coins today, if you have any coins left, you could use them. But if you don’t. I guess you’ll have a slightly tougher day.” He stated as if it were so manageable. 

“A slightly tougher day?” You challenged. 

Easy for him to say, he’s been stuffing his mouth and keeping his thirst quenched, sleeping soundly in no fear of what’s to come the next morning. You’d grown to become repulsed by him. Every word, every look, every move he made had you gagging. A slightly tougher day, this was not salt in an open wound, this was hot sauce. He was enjoying this, or else he would’ve kept his revolting mouth shut and took orders like a good boy. 

“You can all return to your rooms now.” He half ordered. 

But no one moved.

“Cmon, off you go,” 6th swung his bat around, making a point to try and intimidate you. 

But still, no one moved. 

“They can’t do anything if we hold here, no one go anywhere,” There was a little bit of venom in 1st’s words.

“Come to think of it, you’ve all been working hard this last week with no break, you’re bound to get angry. So, as a token of gratitude, the first person to return to their room will get one coin.” 7th floor offered.

“I’ll do you one better,” you mocked him. “Shove it up your ass.” At that he sighed, turning his head away from the group. 

“All ten coins, one minute to decide.” 6th ran up to 7th floor’s side with a better bargain. 

You were not weak, not stupid, not hungry enough to fall for a ploy like this. You were also smart enough to know that this will be the most united you’ve ever been without prior planning. Just pure, unadulterated hatred. But you chose to have some foresight this time around. If you hold here, keep the challenge, it would only end with that bloodied bat to each of your faces. Then what would’ve you gained? Making a statement? 

You all possessed no power nor capacity to fight back. So you thought of something else and hoped the other floors will forgive you for the coming next few hours. Walking up to 6th’s hand was worse than any punishment you had that week. Admitting debility, feigning submission as someone who would’ve been the first to revolt was torture, so you hoped it would work out the way you wanted it to at the end.

Knock, Knock, Knock. You knew she’d be the hardest to convince, so you left her for last. No answer. You shouldn’t’ve indicated that it was you. 

Knock, Knock, Knock. 

“2nd, please open up” you whispered at her door. “I know you’re pissed, just please come out.”

You were actualy surprised to hear some shuffling. And then the door creaked open just a little bit, enough for her to bosk you way in.

“What do you want?” She looked at you with disinterest ad some anger. “Did you not already stuff your mouth and-”

“Do you trust me?”

She hesitated. Good, that means theres still a little bit in there. 

“Come with me, I’ll show you what I did with the coins.” Ok that sounded like you bought a weapon or something, which is obviously impossibe since 4th is in charge of purchases. 

You opened up the door to your room to reveal 1st and 3rd sat comfortably on the floor, infront of them; five plates of food and 4 water bottles. They had already began nibbling at the feast. 2nd wasted no time in finding an empty spot to cozy up in. You sat opposite to her, observing her ear to ear smile. 

The food was gobbled up in all of 5 minutes, the shared extra meal really going its work of making everyone just a tad bit less starving. After it was done, you all leaned back a little, soaking up this one happy moment in the middle of darkness. They’d have to be gone soon, the longer they stay here the higher the risk is of getting caught. You thought of just sending the meals to everyone to consume on their own, but 4th being in the way made that impossible. 

“You know where I think I know 6th from?” you broke the silence. “My dad used to watch baseball all the time, I think he used to be like a star player. But they kicked him off, don’t remember why.”

“Explains the bat.” 3rd smiled to himself, though he knew this was no funny matter.

“I think I know 8th floor from somewhere too,” 2nd added. “An art gallery, I think she was the artist. It was very controversial at the time, her pieces, so the gallery was free. But I may be getting her mixed up with someone else, it was a while ago anyway.”

“So they all get a second chance at this money thing while we suffer to get a single shot?” 1st scoffed. 

“Who do you think 7th is then?” 3rd questioned. 

Apparently that was the line crossed, cause it led to everyone's lips seeling shut. Not in thought but something else. Betrayal, anger, hurt, 7th was, at the end of the day, an ally. Or so you thought anyway. 

“We need a revolution.” 1st stated plainly. That got you to sit back up. 

“Did you have something in mind?” The look on his face told you he in fact did.

“On my signal, you guys ride down in the chute to my room the following morning. I’ll cause a commotion to get them to my room. Then we ambush them.” 

“All together against 6th, yeah that could work” 2nd excitedly whispered. 

“What would the signal be?” 3rd added.

“Hmm how about, I ask for something for stomach pain after a game. Then we carry the plan out the next day. But we have to wait till they bore of us, so that they won’t expect it.”

They all nodded to eachother enthusiastically. 

“But…I can’t ride down to you.” you realised. “Never mind, I could attack him from the back or something.”

It was a plan, and what a burst of excitement that night was. You went to sleep with a semi full belly and hope for change. 

. . .

He descended the stairs at the usual meet up time the next morning, finding 3rd and 1st also making their way down. 8th and 6th had been doing things that were best kept private but thankfully stopped, so that the day could go on. 4th joined a few minutes later. So here they were, him and 4th by the main chute, 8th on the merry go round and 6th swinging his bat lazily. 3rd and 1st sat at the pool, waiting for their female counterparts. There was a slight skip to their step that morning, he wondered if anyone else noticed. A few more minutes passed and 2nd sautered towards the group, seems like everyone was in a good mood today. There was a noticeable lack of you though, seeing as you usually stroll in with 2nd. 

“Where’s 5th” he asked.

“She will not be playing today.” 2nd smiled a little and moved to join the others, but 6th stopped her from where he was.

“How come?” 6th question as he moved closer to 2nd slowly. She turned her body to him slightly and shrugged. 

“4th.” 6th stared 2nd down. “What did 5th buy with her coins yesterday?”

“Meals and water.” She answered obediently.

“How many?”

“5 meals and-”

He didn’t let her finish her sentence before he was already storming towards the stairs, grip on the bat turning his knuckles white. 7th understood what you’d done as well, that’s why the others seem to be a little more cheerful. He was frozen in fear, hoping that maybe you bought them for yourself and still have the leftovers in your room. But he knew how unlikely that was. 6th banged on your door harshly, snapping him out of his thoughts. He ought to do something, what the hell can he do? He looked to your partners in crime, perhaps to help 2nd find an out for you, but all of them had horrified expressions fixed onto the sight about to unfold. He couldn't see from here, only listen.

A door opening, a small yelp, some conversation, something hitting a hard surface and a scream. A moment of silence, before 6 yelled again.

He watched as you ran out onto the steps, rushing down for your life. 6th emerged shortly behind you, face red and bat swinging with as much force as he could, but missing time and time again. You made it all the way to where they were, eyes frantically searching for shelter, there were none. He had his hands clasped behind his back, otherwise they’d shake and tremble uncontrollably. His jaw was clenched, teeth grinding onto each other harshly. 6th was hot on your tail, he swung, it missed, and you took the opportunity to run towards the merry-go-round. He chased you around it, over the seesaw and as you ran for the stands. Hopeless, you threw whatever objects you came across at him. There was no use in yelling for help, in begging or asking for forgiveness, and you all knew that. You made it back towards the circle of people again, this time when he swung and missed, it kicked him off his balance and he toppled on top of you, knocking you into the pool. You grunted as your back collided with the harsh floor, the air knocked out of your lungs. He watched as 6th got up from his spot to get the bat back, you tried to desperately crawl away but the fear had gotten the best of you, weakening your legs. 6th panted as he stood over you, swinging the bat down hitting you square in the abdomen, earning a sharp scream from you. He then reached down and grabbed you by the hair, tilting your face to look at the helpless audience. He then laughed, hard, and tossed the bat next to you as he got on top of you. 

You clawed at his hand desperately, which had grabbed your jaw to hold your head still. 

“Go ahead,” 6 chuckled, a crazed look in his eyes. “Beg,”

“Kiss my ass,” you spat at him without a second thought.

6th swung a heavy fist onto your face, colliding with your cheek.

You sputtered out a wave of fresh blood, your eyes had become unfocused.

No good deed goes unpunished.

“Wanna try again?” 6th said through gritted teeth, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here, huh? Since you wanna play hero so bad,” he lifted your head momentarily to slam it back down.

You couldn’t even cry out loud anymore, choking occasionally on the bubbling blood.

“THE GAME,” He then punched again, hitting your eye. You groaned loudly and continued, “The game would end,”

7th felt a pang of fear, what if your reason wasn’t enough? What if he truly intended on taking your life in the most brutal way imaginable. 8th was on the edge of her seat, 4th holding a shaking with anger 2nd back.

“Don’t kill her,” 8th said with a smile, prancing forward as if this was entertaining- as if it was all some kind of game for her. She put a delicate hand on 6th, rubbing his shoulder in a motherly fashion. She leaned into his ear to whisper, “Just make an example out of her,”

He clenched his jaw tightly, looking around to the horrified group. She was right, by keeping you within an inch of your life, he’d be keeping their fear at just that- fear. 

6th nodded, eyes flickering at your constricted eyes, that struggled to focus on anything. With a firm hand, he pushed 8th back gently. Then, his fist contacted your skull, then your jaw, and you were completely silent- at his mercy. He became addicted, hitting again, and again and again. Your face was almost unrecognisable, blood flowing for your nose down your busted lip. There was a gash on your jaw that looked like it needed stitches. 

7th could only watch helplessly. This scene would haunt his nightmares for years to come, and part of him wished it was him instead beneath 6th’s arm. Though in this scenario, he knew deep down you would’ve rushed to try to help.

His feet kept him planted right where he was. 6th slowly got up off you, a victorious laugh echoing through the room. Your yelps of pain had stopped a few punches ago and as he finally got a good view of you, the world stood still. He fixed his eyes onto your torso, counting laboured breaths. Whether you were knocked out or defeated he couldn’t tell. But 6th wasn’t done, he reached for the bat, and swung at your stomach, causing you to curl in on yourself, a hand coming up to block his next hit, which landed on your upper arm. He then moved onto a kick, a process he repeated a few more times before one last satisfactory blow to your head with the bat. He didn’t have to be a doctor to know 6th had just knocked you completely out of consciousness, likely for a while too.

“5th?” 2nd hesitantly stepped towards you but was stopped by 6th’s bat. 

“Did you fill your bellies last night? Huh? Had fun?” his voice got progressively louder, pushing the girl back. “Ate like kings…” he spewed out, clicking his jaw. “HUH?” His loud voice echoed through the walls.

“If any of you EVER, think of pulling a stunt like that again.” He pointed from group member to group member, “You’ll meet a worse fate. Consider this a warning.” He pulled his weapon back, stepping back and casting one final smirk at your pathetic body, then marching over to a very turned on 8th floor. She giggled when he settled next to her. 

Even 4th floor had her eyes on you, scared and unmoving, mouth covered with her shaking hands.

The lower floors rushed towards you, even 1st moved faster than he ever has. 2nd was by your head, trying to clear your airways while 3rd listened to her instructions.

He couldn’t hear anything, he couldn’t hear the insults 2nd hurled at him, the panicking comments of 3, or even the celebrations from 6 and 8. There was a loud ringing in his ear, it was deafening, the only thing louder than the buzz were your soft moans of ache, desperate for any form of relief, even in your slumber. How painful is it that you can’t help but weep even when you can’t feel it? 

You were carried up by 2nd and 3rd, 1st following closely behind. They all stayed inside the room 

He sat down on the edge of the pool, gagging slightly at the sight of the blood, dropping his head into his hands. 4th floor sat next to him, hands on her knees, eyes fixated on the mess.

“Your idea was amazing 7th,” 8th said in a chirpy voice, “The coin system was a perfect plan, I mean look at the time! 100 hours from just that!”

“It wasn’t the coin system, it was 6th floor,” he tried to convince mainly himself.

“But if it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t have pulled this stunt anyways. You’re a genius 7th!” 

He stared blankly at the floor, only flinching when 6th patted his shoulder. 8th and 6th disappeared upstairs to her room, likely to celebrate the events that just transpired privately.

This was far worse than when it happened to 2nd, because you were outmatched from the beginning. Sure, you were more agile, more skilled and definitely smarter, but you should’ve thought of this. You shouldn’t have opened the door. Perhaps he could’ve disarmed th6, stolen his taser and beat the man bloody and bruised. But he couldn’t, because he was a coward. He was not a soldier, not a fighter, not even a survivor, he couldn't have heldhis own. But then again, neither could you, yet you still fought, in your own way at least. 

Bloody. Your face was so bloody. He wasn’t sure if he was remembering it worse because of his aversion to blood or because it was you. Either way, you must be in a lot of pain right now. Maybe it was the fact that you were specifically targeted, helpless and pleading, that had bile stuck at the back of his throat till now. He’d seen you get beat up in the games before but this…was different. Every time he’d walk past your room, he’d pause to listen. There were times where you were quiet and he feared you’d died, other times where your quiet sobs pierced the chill air. He couldn’t decide which was worse to hear. He felt awful, what could he do for you now? Nothing, he knew that much. He considered trying to send something down to you to ease the pain but 6th was in 8th’s room at the moment, not that he could explain that to him anyway. So here he was. Mere hours later. Standing at your door pathetically empty handed. Tears in his eyes, as if they meant anything. These were tears of guilt. Shame. He knew, logically, the chance of you opening your door was slim to none, especially if you knew it was him. You’re probably passed out from pain right now and he’d be intruding on your moment of relief. He was being selfish, again. But he couldn’t help himself when it came to you. So he did the only thing he knew would get you to open up. 

Knock, knock, knock. Three short knocks. And sure enough, you stumbled to the door and unlocked it, not bothering to check who it was before collapsing onto the floor again, leaving your back to him. You used your hands to support yourself against the ground. He shivered at the dried up blood around your room. How sad is it that the one person that could’ve helped you recover was yourself, and you were in no state to do so. His eyes lingered at the bandages, unused, but stained with blood. He saw the evidence of your crime in the corner, stacked neatly on top of each other. If he didn’t say anything soon, it would be weird. 

“I’m fine, 2nd, just a little tired. And thirsty.” You croaked, voice weak. There was a short sniffle at the end of your sentence. He felt his heart shatter. He hadn’t even considered that they didn’t send you food that day. If he could just get you up to his room…

“I mean it, I’m-” You turned slowly, clearly expecting someone else, caught off guard by who your eyes saw instead. Your breaths got louder, anger threatening to spill over. 

“Get out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Get. Out.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated a bit louder.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you here?” Your voice shook, tears glimmering slightly under the low lighting. 

“I…don’t know.”

“You come to finish me off?” 

“You know I would never-”

“I don’t know anything actually. Get lost.”

He took a step forward, only stopped by your tossing of an empty box at him. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen 5th I-”

“What did they offer you?”

“Nothing I-”

“Went willingly?”

“No!”

His eyes met yours for the first time since forever, and not for a split second either, you two held each other's gaze. Teary eyes to teary eyes. Yours were pleading with him a little, to say the right thing, change my opinion of you, let me trust you again. He had nothing to offer, No sound explanation, no noble reason nor anticipatory foresight. He thought back to himself, why did he just show up. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Your expression turned blankly exhausted, coupled with a slight scoff.

“Well I’m swell, thank you for your concern.”

The silence that followed made him nervous. He opened his mouth and closed it multiple times, trying to wrack his brain to find a way to properly articulate his words.

“I want to sleep.” At his hesitation, you turned around to face the wall on the bed, giving him your back. He had nothing to say then, nothing to make it better. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

He didn’t respond, only dropped his head and walked out of the room. There was a heaviness in the air that threatened to suffocate him with every step away from your room. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven, or heard, or even acknowledged, he’d once again opted for safety not humanity. While you suffered with little meals and still had the ability to share, he ate comfortably with first pick in 8th’s room. 

. . .

The days went by in a blur as you limped daily to every new game. You didn’t have the facilities to check if something was broken, but if you had to guess. There was a noticeable lack of enthusiasm in the group, the only hope now being 1st’s plan. But after what happened, there was always the what if? What if it all went wrong and someone else met your fate once more? You lost the ability to speak, though there was nothing to say, you shuffled your feet from one game to the next, finding little to no energy to compete, put an effort in. You hadn’t been sleeping either, your mind too afraid to doze off lest you wake up back under 6th grip again. There was no talk of the revolution again, the excitement you starred in making the higher floors a little more on edge. 7th had attempted to speak to you again but it was futile, you wouldn’t even speak to 2nd. He now always watched you with sad eyes, remorse that you were not willing to accept from him. The days just seemed to drag on, but that was good, relatively, it meant that they were getting bored. 

“It’s that prick 7th floor that kept this game so brutal.” 2nd whispered

7th floor had signaled something to 3rd on the stairs that day, clearly showing him that he knows of the plan. How he got the information is truly beyond you, considering you’ve only ever discussed it once. 

“What do you think, 5th?” she looked down to your position on the steps.

“I think…we’ve got nothing more to lose”

The next day, 1st gave the signal, and you could feel your heart almost thumping out of your chest. Your injuries had gotten better, leaving only scars and bruises as a reminder, your side still hurt though, might be a fractured rib. 

You descended the steps a few paces before the higher floors, granted 6 overtook you relatively quick due to your slowed movements. 7 slowed to your pace, you paid him no mind though, desperately hoping the plan would work. Finally at 1st floor’s room,

Time stood still as a, once again victorious 6th marched over to his little girlfriend to grab the taser. You were by 7th’s side, your injury rendering you useless and a liability in a fight like that. Defeated once more, and now, you didn’t even want to think of the consequences about to be conjured up. 

“Hit him” 7th said from next to you, you turned to him in confusion. 

“Hit him!” he repeated, louder this time, meant for 2nd floor. The taser in 6th’s hand clicked but nothing came out, giving 2nd way to knock the man out. 

“My hand’s a lot better now, asshole.”

[alanaartdream]

Ok my adhd brain doesn’t want to sleep until I draw my Fairy Timmy (with the Nicktoons unite gang) having to deal with grown up Dale hitting on him because

@jaytalking Fairy Timmy au inspired @bunnieswithknives to draw Dale’s one sided love with their fairy Timmy design and I couldn’t stop laughing and giggling seeing a Adult Jimmy Neutron being oooh so mad at dale for trying to get with Timmy in my mind

As you can see I had to sketch it out

Now peri and Jimmy are planning Dale’s demise as we speak while Danny and SpongeBob are wondering if they should help Timmy to get away from this Dale Creep

I kinda want to draw Jimmy with his hair down but figured people might not recognise Jimmy without his classic hairstyle ^^;

Also why Danny drawn as a beefcake here? (Or my attempt at drawing a adult beefcake Danny) well Bustch up on his YouTube channel has given up some drawings/ stories information on what adult Danny Sam and Trucker would be and apparently they’re a incredible ghost hunting team in their future; Sam And Danny get Married & Tucker ends up mayor/ president of their town/ city aaaannnddd because of all the ghost fighting Danny been doing for YEARS he becomes very fit and ripped (( can someone tell me why But h likes to make his male protagonist grow up to be big beefcakes? Because it seems to be a trend with him))

Also I heard someone say that butch once said he wanted to Make Danny Fenton/ phantom and Timmy Turner Cousins but didn’t go through with that idea because that would’ve been pretty good idea AND would explain why A) Timmy and Danny kinda look alike a bit and B) Timmy’s crazy lazy and very dumb birth parents where kinda obsessed with ghost hunting in their past before they had Timmy (but they were SO OO bad at it I mean they way of fighting ghosts was to blow up the house the ghosts were hunting and they blew up everyone’s house and got chased to the other side of town and had to change their names.. Danny & Danny’s parents would be horrified learning there was ghost hunters this bad out there)

Also I was gonna go with Danny saying

*do you see this shit SpongeBob* but then thought no way would Danny swear around his emotional support sponge 🧽

Also in my fairy Timmy can’t stand Dale either

And being as Wanda & Cosmo knows Timmy did want to grow his hair out but his birth father never LET him and would always cut it short if he was to be adopted by them and raised with Peri/poof then I’d know Timmy would grow his hair out and keep it in a ponytail as a fairy adult so it’s why my fairy Timmy has long hair

Danny being as he’s fighting ghosts all the time and being as Butch has said Sam & Danny get married and have 2 kids who inherit Ghost powers but a little different from their Dad he most likely doesn’t want his hair too long and it might just be a little long but not long enough to tie up being as he most likely needs to look professional being the city’s ghost protector/ fighter and likely doesn’t want his hair to bother him while he fights ghosts

Just my own experience being as I work for a hospital and had my hair short before to try to keep it from bothering me during a hot summer working week but thanks to being busy and some lockdowns it’s back to being long now but I understand keeping a hold city and raising kids means yo have no time dealing with long hair so mostly try to keep it shortish

Anyway thank you for enjoying my silly au ideas and drawings it’s been fun to draw them down

[diristine]

Fuck it, OC posting

This is a super old work, so the design/style of my art had obviously changed a bit but I’m too lazy to draw a new photo right this moment.

Meet Patch!! Theyre 21 years old, a being of chaos, hates seams, and has a pet opossum named Stinky (as seen on the shirt).

Some facts about them!

They are Detective Void’s younger sibling, yes theyre a Layla rewrite idc. Theyre cooler than she ever was.

They aspire to be a teacher one day, but currently works at a tattoo shop, a hair salon, mcdonalds, starbucks, tim hortons, jc penny, macy’s, the mcdonalds at the pentagon, the mcdonalds at the foundation, being your friendly neighborhood spidey,!for Marshall, Carter, and Darke at one of their restaurants, as a bartender, lead singer in their small band, tutor, photographer, janitor, and so on and so forth.

Due to being a siren, their eyesight out of water SUCKS ASS. Though they have no clue its due to being a siren, dont ask them how they tattoo whilst being blind, they have amazing pieces.

Has been contained by the Foundation 10+ times but continuously escapes, the Foundation has settled to letting them work at the mcdonalds on one of their sites to keep an eye on them.

Dr Clef was assigned lead researcher for their containment, namely due to the fact hes the only one that has consistently gotten close without spooking them off (mr reality anchor fucks with their sense of knowing where all lost things are and they hate him whenever he leaves an anchor in their apartment)

If someone works at the Foundation near that site and got a tattoo, it was probably by Patch.

Theyve been arrested for trespassing in attempts (successful attempts) at saving abused animals

Southern but they refuse to admit to being a cowgirl and do their best to hide their accent. Why? It doesn’t fit their aesthetic.

Besties with Robert Carter, they met when Robert came in to get a haircut that would make one of his exes regret cheating on him. They have been close ever since.

They do not know how to drive. Whatsoever.

Used to be apart of the swim team, had no clue being a siren helped out there. Seeing as they still have no clue theyre a siren.

Sometimes they walk into their apartment to find one Alto Clef in there and immediately start to search for the reality anchor he hid away. If they find it, he has it thrown at his face.

Most people who have lost themselves tend to befriend Patch, being the deity of lost things it happens a lot. So them befriending people in the Foundation really isn’t too surprising.

If you ask them to help find something you lost, it always magically appears when they search for it.

They always know where they are, never are they lost.

An avid weed enjoyer, and alcohol enjoyer, even though their creator indulges in neither of those things. Yippee!!!

If you hate them dont tell me I dont wanna know. Theyre my child and I will kill for them (so will most people that know them)

[zahri-melitor]

Do you think there’s any hope of Tim getting a transition story anytime soon?

If so, what would you like to see?

Depends what you mean by transition.

In terms of Tim getting a new hero identity? I suspect the order of events there consists of "someone pitches something that DC likes, that they think will sell, and that fans won't overreact to", and then title sells well.

Because they got burnt during Young Justice 2019. Whether or not you think 'Drake' was a terrible idea for a new identity, the fandom reaction to it made it that much less likely for Tim to get given a new ID.

Because I guarantee for you that no matter what someone proposes, there will be people who kick back against it, and for it to work, it's going to need to be woven into DC mythology in a meaningful way.

This is where I'm going to point out that MOST Bats are running around using legacy identities. Nightwing is a legacy Superman-related identity, that Clark gave to Dick as part of their friendship, that goes back to the 1960s. Red Hood is a legacy identity, that Jason took from Joker and turned into his own as a take that. Batgirl is a legacy identity, that traces to Betty Kane and to Barbara, which is actively used by Steph and Cass. Robin is a legacy identity that belongs to Dick. Red Robin is a legacy identity - it was developed for Dick in Kingdom Come, and it passed through Jason to get to Tim. Kate Kane is Batwoman BECAUSE Kathy Kane was Batwoman, and Batwoman and Batgirl were deliberately designed to be feminine legacies of Batman. Azrael as a mantle is explicitly a legacy mantle that JPV holds.

Yes, Steph as the Spoiler and Duke and the Signal work and were accepted by the public as solid hero names, but those were both their first proper identities, and they were new characters without a significant weight of backstory.

Oracle works as an identity for Barbara because John Ostrander and Kim Yale spent the time and worked up a backstory for Barbara's transition into becoming Oracle, and made it full of joy and promise. She seized something new and created it for herself out of the ruins of where she'd been left as a character.

This is why I hate when people just throw out suggestions for random bird names for Tim to have a new identity. It has no depth to it. There's no point in calling Tim 'Blackbird' or 'Raptor' or whatever unless you invest in storytelling for why Tim would find that a meaningful name to represent. Why does he attach more meaning to it than being Robin (or Red Robin). It's lazy storytelling.

You can rescue it from an Elseworlds or another Earth. It doesn't have to be a direct "I am giving you my ID" like the transfer of Robin. But it needs to have history to it as a name for it to feel right as an identity for Tim Drake, a legacy character who has been around for 35 years, and who is fiercely associated with the concept of belonging to a team. It needs to speak to who he is as a character, and what his goals are in using that identity.

This is why Tim!Nightwing during the Ric Grayson period would have worked - Nightwing has that meaning, and if you wrote Tim and Dick working on finding a 'graduation' name for Tim through that story you could have stuck whatever nonsense you wanted as it, because then you would have built in the meaning (that it was a Dick and Tim project together).

So yeah, that's what I'd like to see for a Tim with a new identity. Someone who's put in the work to choose something meaningful from the back catalogue and develop an argument that Tim would use it. Because they're going to have to sell fans on it.

If, however you mean transition in terms of 'Tim is trans': no. I do not think it is likely that DC are interested in writing that for Tim, and I am really reluctant to see it as it would only get him pigeonholed even harder as 'the queer Robin', to be pulled out for use out of obligation for Pride.

Also they just got burnt over that Kon story and its reaction, and I think DC are currently more interested in working on their development of trans characters who are trans from creation (see Nia Nal, who's getting a boost in the current events).

[chishiyasdearjacket]

Chapter 2: A Dangerous Alliance

Part 2: The game escalates, forcing them to rely on each other. Tension builds as their different moral compasses become more apparent.

Masterlist: The King's Decree

The game was shifting.

The moment the second decree was issued, the players fractured into chaos. Accusations flew, alliances formed and broke within seconds, and fear was spreading like wildfire.

Chishiya and Y/N stood at the edge of it all, watching. Calculating.

A vote. That was all it took for someone to die.

And people were already scrambling to ensure it wouldn’t be them.

---

A Test of Control

"You knew something like this was coming, didn’t you?" Y/N murmured, voice just loud enough for Chishiya to hear over the frantic whispers around them.

Chishiya’s smirk was almost lazy. "It was a possibility."

She hummed, unconvinced. "And yet, you didn’t warn anyone."

His sharp gaze flicked to hers. "Neither did you."

Y/N exhaled a quiet laugh. "Fair enough."

The countdown had begun. Two minutes to decide who would die next.

She could see it already—the way people were looking at the weak links, the easiest targets. The nervous man from earlier, the one she suspected knew more than he let on, was clutching his arms tighter, eyes darting around.

"Any preferences?" Chishiya mused, tilting his head toward the crowd.

Y/N didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t the type to kill for sport, but she wasn’t naive either. The wrong vote could cost her later.

"Not yet," she finally said. "But I do know one thing."

Chishiya raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "They’re going to target the weakest first. We should use that to our advantage."

His smirk widened. "So you do have a ruthless side."

She met his gaze, unwavering. "I have a practical side."

For a second, there was something unreadable in his expression. Amusement, maybe. Or something deeper.

Then, he chuckled. "Alright, then. Let’s play."

---

The First Betrayal

It happened fast.

The nervous man—her first suspect—was the easy target. The group latched onto his hesitance like sharks smelling blood. Pleas turned to shouting, desperation turned to cruelty, and within seconds, his fate was sealed.

The final vote came. His collar blinked red.

A choked gasp, then silence.

He was gone.

Y/N barely blinked. She didn’t enjoy it, but she understood it.

Chishiya, on the other hand, looked entirely unbothered.

"Well," he mused, slipping his hands into his hoodie pockets, "that was predictable."

Y/N shot him a look. "And yet, you didn’t say a word to stop it."

His smirk was infuriating. "Would it have mattered?"

She didn’t answer. Because she knew the truth.

No. It wouldn’t have.

---

A Fractured Team

The group was down to four.

And the King was still hidden among them.

The next decree was coming. Y/N could feel it. The game was designed to escalate. The closer they got to the end, the crueler it would become.

And she and Chishiya?

They were running out of time to figure this out.

"We need to take control of the next vote," she muttered under her breath, watching the others.

Chishiya hummed. "You sound like you’re enjoying this."

She shot him a dry look. "I enjoy winning."

His smirk returned. "Good."

Because in a Hearts game like this, second place didn’t exist.

---

To Be Continued in Chapter 3...

---

This chapter deepens their dynamic—Y/N is still holding onto morality, while Chishiya plays his usual detached, calculating role. Let me know if you want any tweaks before I move on to the final chapter!

Taglist: @r1nn13

[xvazx]

The Beauty of Our Chaos

Throwback - Circa 2016

Nobody prepares you for moments like this while dealing with puberty. I could be helping Miss Rosso grade yesterday’s italiano grammar quiz but instead I’m fulfilling my duties as team captain. I felt like I was about to throw up, partly from the paranoia of cargo losing our project (they didn’t), but mainly because we just made it to our first Nationals. It was the first time an all-girls Catholic school had made it this far, and Principal Mowry lectured (warned) us about bringing home at least a diploma.

We made an entrance whether we wanted to or not. The room fell silent as our team walked through the main hall, the sharp click of polished formal heels against the convention center floor breaking through the noise. Unlike the other teams dressed in hoodies, sneakers, and team T-shirts, we arrived in pressed uniforms, tights, and neatly styled hair—Miss Sutton, our tech coach at our side like a chaperone to a debutante ball. It was all part of the St. Trinity ladylike image.

Across the room, the boys from Gilman—three-time nationals competitors, and last year’s champions—swaggered in, like they had already won. Teams frolicked with chatter, some friendly and others dripping with judgment. I overheard some whispers about how “This year, we have some new babes” like it was some novelty. Of course, there were the usual sexist remarks. One girl from an elite East Coast school even spread some gossip, “I heard that the captain is a total shrew,” which quickly escalated into a full-blown discussion about how Catholic schools in California were far behind compared to their prestigious institutions.

I didn’t pay them much mind—at least, not at first. My focus was on making it alive out of this.

After the inauguration, the host invited everyone to freshen up before the first round of competition. We put on our big coats (yes, we Californians get cold) and made our way to the cafeteria for a quick meal. While enjoying our few minutes left, the inevitable question arose: Were there any cute boys?

“Ay noo, muy creidos,” I groaned. “They all look like finance bros in training.” (Noo, way too snooty.)

Mariel, my best friend, waggled her eyebrows. “There’s got to be at least one.”

We decided to head to our station early and begin setting up our project—a fully functional, intelligent Barbie Dreamhouse. As I booted up my laptop to check the code, I tested the app on my iPad, making sure each function was in place.

Across the arena, a team of boys was engrossed in their project—battle robots. They cheered as two metal machines clashed, the room filled with the sounds of scraping steel and excited shouts.

But I wasn’t watching the robots.

I was watching someone.

Curly-haired, thick eyebrows, completely focused. While his teammates hollered like cavemen, he controlled the remote with calm precision, pressing buttons with the ease of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

“Why are you staring?” Mariel asked with a teasing smile.

Without thinking, I muttered, “I’m not. I just… the robot’s noisy.”

“Uh-huh,” she teased. “Come on, let’s go over there.”

Before I could protest, Mariel pulled the fabric of my coat for me to follow her. The second we walked up, the boys quieted, some of them suddenly straightening their postures. A few gave an attempt at being suave, offering lazy greetings.

“Didn’t expect to see heels at one of these competitions,” one of them muttered.

“First impressions are important,” Mariel shot back, smiling sweetly.

The curly-haired boy, their captain, didn’t join in their jokes. Instead, he watched me curiously as I glanced at the battle robot. “Hey,” he greeted, polite but reserved. “I’m Luigi. Sorry about all the noise, we are testing the weak points.”

Mariel nudged my arm. I straightened and stopped fidgeting. “Right….I’m (Y/N). S’cool, they sound like they have decent resistance.”

He nodded. “They were designed for defensive combat—angled armor and optimized speed-to-weight ratio. Took us months to perfect.”

He explained the mechanisms with the confidence of someone who knew his work was good but wasn’t arrogant about it. Then, he turned the question to me.

“And you? What’s your project?”

“A Barbie Dreamhouse.”

“Oh.” His reaction was neutral, but his teammates weren’t as composed.

“A dollhouse for the Malibu Barbies,” one of them joked. “Is it glittery?”

I raised an eyebrow. “It’s a different approach. I wonder how many battle bots do the judges see every year?”

That shut them up for a second. But one of them, smirking, tilted his head. “So you’re the shrew.”

My jaw tightened, but I refused to let them see me flinch. “Wow,” I said dryly. “How Shakespearean.”

The curly-haired captain turned to his teammates, frowning. “Cut it out.”

They only shrugged, but I had already moved on. There was work to do.

Mariel, knowing that I had to walk it off, gave me space. “Text if you need me."

I didn’t care if they thought it was girly. What they didn’t know was that I had originally wanted to build a big prototype tidal power generator, but the girls one-upped me with the Barbie house. The project was great and I was going to defend it.

I turned back to my station, running another test. Suddenly, the miniature air conditioner inside the dollhouse stopped spinning. Pushing my hair back, I disassembled the parts, searching for the problem, when a voice interrupted me.

“Need some help?” I glanced up, Luigi stood there, hands in his pockets, watching. I exhaled. "Looks like the solder thinned out."

"Yeah," he agreed, kneeling beside me and offering the solder lead roll. "You should reinforce it."

I arched my brow. "Thanks."

He smirked slightly at my attitude but didn't comment. Instead, he studied the model. Then, turning to me with a curious expression, he asked, “Why a water setup?”

I hesitated before explaining. “It’s part of our philanthropic plan. We’re using tidal power to generate resources. We wanted to make something sustainable.”

I showed him the app we’d created to control the Dreamhouse functions, which was set up like a smart house. The house lit up, the AC flickered back to life, the smart appliances responded seamlessly with multiple variations.

He exhaled, impressed. "Actually, this is—".

"Too smart for a Malibu Barbie?" I interrupted, teasing. His lips twitched. "I was gonna say 'innovative,' but sure, let's go with that."

He scratched the back of his head. "Sorry about my teammates, by the way."

I shrugged. "To be fair, I did expect a battle robot from a Jonas Brother."

Just then, Mariel and the others came over to grab me, asking me to check out a dog robot from another team. I turned to walk with them but glanced back one last time. Luigi was still smiling from my comment.

Ugh. Stop

——

After several rounds of competition, it was time for the oral presentations. One by one, the team captains took the stage, presenting their projects with polished confidence. Their chaperones stood beside them, adding credibility with measured nods and approving smiles.

Then it was my turn.

I stepped up, adjusting the microphone. My heart pounded out of my chest, so I took a breath.

“So, um… hi,” I started, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), representing Daughters of St. Trinity. And this—” I gestured to the screen behind me, where an image of our Barbie Dreamhouse prototype appeared—“is not what you expected to see at a tech competition.”

A few chuckles rippled through the crowd. Good.

“But here’s the thing,” I continued. “It’s more than just a Barbie Dreamhouse. Our project is about connecting natural resources with technology. The city where we’re from sits along the coastline, and we asked ourselves: What if we could harness the power of the tides to create a fully self-sustaining home?”

I clicked to the next slide. A detailed diagram of the house’s tidal power system appeared.

“This prototype is powered by a small-scale tidal energy generator, which—if applied to a real house—could significantly reduce dependency on the electrical grid. And, of course, we built an app that allows users to control everything from lighting to temperature, all while maximizing energy efficiency.”

While taking another quick breath, I glanced at the audience, scanning their faces. Most of them were attentive—some skeptical, but listening. Then my eyes met his.

Luigi was watching me intently, arms crossed, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. My stomach flipped. Ew

“This isn’t just about making something ‘girly’ smart,” I concluded. “It’s about challenging assumptions. About what innovation looks like. And if we can reimagine something as simple as a dollhouse, imagine what we can do for real homes, real cities—real change.”

A beat of silence. Then applause.

The girls grinned at me as I walked back to my seat. Mariel squeezed my hand. “That was awesome.”

I exhaled, finally allowing myself to relax.

The judges deliberated. The room was thick with anticipation. When they returned, the lead judge gave a cliche speech of ‘everyone is a winner’ and after cutting the crap he cleared his throat and announced:

….

“Second place… Gilman from Baltimore, MD.”

Luigi’s team.

The boys exchanged nods, some disappointed but still satisfied. Luigi gave a short, polite clap.

“And… first place… Daughters of St. Trinity, Santa Barbara, CA!”

We erupted into cheers and rushed forward to claim our prize—a sleek glass trophy engraved with the competition’s name.

On the podium, I turned and found Luigi beside me. He extended a hand, his expression unreadable.

“Congratulations,” he said.

I took it, giving him a firm shake.

Before I could pull away, he leaned in slightly and murmured, “You think I look like a Jonas Brother?”

Squinting my eyes I responded with a ‘a little bit’ hand gesture.

@nosebeers

hi i’m Vaz, this was just a product of my active imagination, free time and the need for a better outcome. Hope u enjoy xxx

English is not my first language, so it could sound old timey at times. (Academic English Education yaaay)

(Y/N) is mostly an original character. And some of the plot ideas come from movie references. If you are able spot them we can be friends :) Yes she can be a pick me but I promise she has a reason.

[felisidae]

Is it uh, is it obvious who my favorite is...

The guardians..... + Zero

In my Ground Zero au Swap stepped down to focus on himself (the guy deserves a break cmon) and Ink was booted off. So, Dream needed to find himself a new team and this is the result.

Here are some design explanations cause I'm insane and want to ramble

I got a little bit lazy with Cross, it's late ok I'm exhausted, I'll probably give him a better design in the future, but I really liked the sort of armor he had before everything went down idk, I'm far too tired to properly explain anything forgive me. Kept his fur hood because he'd look even more unrecognizable without it. I reallllyyyyyyyyyyyy wanted to give him his iconic scar but this is after he loses it and everything, sigh.

Birds design was purely self-indulgent, I LOVE HIM SM MY SHAYLA. I love it when people give him actual bird features instead of just slapping wings onto him (Inaccurate sized wings at that). Gave him bird-like pupils and added an extra pair of wings in his ears because I love ear wings sm, added a feather crest on his head because I saw someone else do it a whiiile ago and thought it just looked so cool, so I stole it. Gave him black accents on his feet and face because I thought it emphasized his birdness, if that makes sense.

Epic is uh, definitely Epic. I didn't change much with him, I thought his canon design was already pretty good on its own. Made his scar bigger cause I like to dramatize things. All I really changed was the color, only slightly though.

Zero is there and they are... not really square. More feline like than Strike, has more fur. Their skeletal parts are there but hidden under their clothes. There is a reason he is more uh... fleshy? But that would be spoilers!!

[1queasycrow]

EARLY THROUGH MID GAME VEILGUARD SPOILERS

AGAIN, SPOILERS FOR DRAGON AGE THE VEILGUARD (2024)

Your TLDR is: Rook is actually a very good protagonist if you do the light reading.

So some people say that Rook is out of place or badly written or that they have no reason for being the player character. And honestly sure you can say those things, but they should come with some heavy disclaimers.

Rook IS out of place but so is everyone when you’re rebelling against the end of the world. Is it weird that Rook is all of a sudden in charge? Not really, Varric named them leader if things didn’t go well (and they didn’t) and those two original team members trust the call that Varric made.

As for why the companions would follow this random person? Well, in the beginning, most of them aren’t really following Rook as much as what they stand for (putting together a team to stop power hungry tyrants from ending the world). As for why they follow Rook? Well the companions are (by design, I’ll admit) followers. There is little in their characters that makes them uniquely suitable for leadership of a team. Rook however, does have these qualities, you can see them in the backstories and a lot of dialogue options)

Perhaps the writing doesn’t explicitly give you a classic Chosen One narrative (imo this is refreshing, I enjoy a good ‘you’re not the only one for the job but you are what we got’ in fact, no shade to the inquisitor but Rook has more self made leadership qualities than ‘oops I walked into the wrong time wrong place’ but I digress).

This is not to say that chosen one narrative isn’t there (in a way). If you read ANY of the six Rook backstories (which is an unmissable screen in character creation) ALL of them paint the portrait of someone who will make the tough call in the moment with the information given to them and live with the consequences (marking themself as a chosen one if you will) and if that whole deal doesn’t sound like a dragon age game then I don’t know what games you’ve been playing for the past decade and a half. Now does this require a bit more reading than some people are willing to invest? Possibly, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

Honestly, you can interpret Rook any way you wish but I always think it important to spend a little time considering why we may find something ‘badly done’ rather than jumping to ‘lazy creation’ or lack of skill.

[the-blossica-fan]

Bonk once said about two particular "evil" versions c:

Vertin: Cowardly, skittish, lack of any charisma: "Get in the suitcase quickly please oh god--"

Sonetto: Lazy, doesn't follow orders: "Whatever, Vertin." (<Doesn't call her by her title)

They took Vertin's Rizz away (I can't believe I said that)

You know the entire suitcase Is going to be hellishly worried, this multiplies when a disheveled, tired Sonetto walks into the room with clothes that are not ironed.

Her hair's a mess, she probably forgot to eat and laid on the sofa all day, acting unfriendly and lazy. The Evil Phenomenon (Silly Edition) has claimed another victim.

No one has an idea of what to do since Vertin is usually the one to take care of these things, but Vertin has been hiding behind any surface, avoiding contact and near the verge of tears every time. She just joined the pitiful girl gang.

So Madam Z had to take good care of everything alongside Tooth Fairy, her job is to watch over Team Timekeeper which is usually pretty easy because of Vertin's skills. Her work is accumulating and she has to figure out a way to designate someone as a temporary leader for Team Timekeeper.

Which would rely on Sonetto if she wasn't... Evil Sonetto.

Back to those two. Their relationship is just so... Weird, to say the least. Sonetto is pretty lazy and isn't doing anything other than lay around, when Vertin (stuttering and trembling) asks her to do something, she receives an "Ugh, why do I have to?" And then she (Vertin) backs away.

And Vertin is only talking to Madam Z and Tooth Fairy because she considers them reliable and trustworthy (they're her mothers basically)

A bit silly but people low-key got used to it, they just treat Vertin like they would treat Poltergeist while she's in this state.

As for Sonetto... She got into a fight with Pavia for taking his place on the sofa for two days straight. She's been doing nothing, saying mean-spirited comments and fucking up the Rules.

Regulus likes her this way, unfortunately for her, Sonetto goes back to normal rather quickly (call it the never-ending struggles of her normal self because oh boy would she hate this version of herself)

[noneedtoamputate]

Band of Brothers Olympics AU - Chapter One

I don't have a great title for this yet. I was thinking about The Vault in Our Stars, a pun on another Shakespeare quote to go along with Band of Brothers. If you have any ideas, please let me know.

This came out of my Olympic obesession, and I've tried to include a lot of details that came out of the Paris games in the fic.

I can't thank @mercurygray enough for helping me flesh out this story and providing some much-needed details. She deserves co-author credit on this chapter, but any mistakes or sections that don't work are on me. And thanks to @shoshiwrites for beta-reading and telling me it was a fun read. That's exactly what I am going for with this fic.

Hope you all enjoy!

Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Five days before Opening Ceremony

Four of the five members of the United States men’s gymnastics team lounged in the larger of the two bedrooms in their Olympic Village suite after their designated practice time. Harry Welsh texted his girlfriend, Kitty Grogan, a member of the U.S. women’s gymnastics team and America’s current sweetheart. High bar specialist George Luz balanced a plate of French baked goods on his lap. Team himbo Floyd Talbert read the newest issue of Field and Stream. Carwood Lipton, the youngest member of the squad, sat on the floor doing a v-stretch. 

“My mattress here is worse than the one in my dorm room,” Carwood lamented, grabbing his foot and reaching his head to his knee.

“Yes, but it’s environmentally friendly,” Harry pointed out without looking up from typing. “You can save the world or save your back, but not both.”

“Fuck, this pain au chocolat is good,” George said, his mouth full and his pronunciation terrible.

“You don’t say the last letter of the word,” Tab explained, hardly looking up from his magazine. 

“Whatever.” George considered the pastry again. “I think I’m going to record a review and put it on TikTok.”

“You know French?” Carwood asked Tab. It wasn’t impossible, but Carwood didn’t take Tab as the … cultured type. He knew Dick and Harry pretty well - he was a few years behing them at Penn State, after all - but he was still getting to know George and Tab. Both men liked to joke, although their senses of humor worked in different ways - in strong contrast to Dick, who didn’t really go for jokes when it came to his team and his sport. 

“Kinda. I’ve been doing twenty minutes of Duolingo a day for the past two months. I’m up to Level Six,” Tab explained proudly.

Harry laughed and shook his head. “And here I was thinking the only French Tab knew was mènage à trois.”

“I resent that you think that low of me, Harry - and that’s an important phrase,” Talbert defended, finally looking up from his reading. “Speaking of, any chance Kitty introduces us to her teammates?”

Harry put his phone down. “Kitty’s already told them all about you. And if that didn’t scare them off, she threatened  that if they so much as shook your hand, she’d send their names to the doping agency and they’d have to take extra urine tests.” 

“Shit, I wouldn’t cross Kitty. She scares the hell out of me.” George admitted, brushing crumbs off his chin. 

“If only the American public knew about the real Kitty Grogan,” Carwood agreed. Harry’s girlfriend had worked hard for the America’s Sweetheart nickname, but George was right. Her tiny frame and blond curls hid a ruthless sense of humor, a deceptively strong arm, and a very, very strong protective urge for the other women on her team. (Necessary equipment, she would have said.)

“Well, there’s lots of other women in the Olympic Village,” Tab said, unbothered and unashamed. “And I’ll need some more condoms, too, since someone -” he glared at George - “wouldn’t share.”

“Christ, will you let it go? Harry asked for mine first. And everyone got five to start with. If you need more than that, walk your lazy ass downstairs to the clinic. They have more there for the taking.”

The suite door opened, and team captain Dick Winters walked into the room.

“Hey, have you had any of these, Dick?” George asked, gesturing to the remnant of croissant on the table. “They’re really good.”

Dick looked at the pastry like George had just suggested he eat something toxic, and gave a brief shake of his head.“I just got through talking with Coach Taylor, and he was really happy with the way practice went this morning.”

“Well, that’s why I came to France. To make Coach Taylor happy.” Harry rolled his eyes. He wasn’t on the best of terms with the national team coach, and he wasn’t afraid of letting everyone know it. 

“Hey, Tab, you should ask Dick!” George suggested. 

“Ask me what?” Dick looked over Tab’s way.

“Can I have the condoms that came in your welcome pack? George already gave his to Harry.” Tab still sounded put out.

Dick looked even more offended about this than he had about the chocolate croissant. “No!” 

“Why? Did you use them already?” Tab sat up and looked at Dick, interested in his answer.

“No!” Dick shouted again, even louder this time. “And nobody is no going to need the condoms, because nobody on this team is going to have sex until we’re done with the competition.”

“What?” Tab asked incredulously. “There are 5,000 women here. And 5,000 men, if that’s your thing. Ten thousand people, all of us at the peak of our physical well being. And you want us to refrain from doing anything that requires a condom for a week?”

Dick sighed, more than a little agitated he had to explain this to his teammates. “We have a chance to do something really special here. I know it's a long shot, but we could medal. It would be huge for men’s gymnastics back home. We owe it to ourselves and our sport to do our best, and that means focusing. Abstaining for a week isn’t going to kill anybody.”

Harry shook his head. “Look Dick, I understand what you’re saying, but you know how superstitious I am, and I always sleep with Kitty before a big meet. She does this thing where … ”

“STOP!” interrupted Dick, eyes closed in pain. “Nobody is interested in what you were about to say.”

“I am,” Tab answered honestly, and George laughed.

“Look, I didn’t come up here to talk about condoms,” Dick said, desperately wanting to change the subject. “I’ve been thinking we should skip the opening ceremonies.”

The rest of the team stared at him.

Dick sighed before starting again. “I know we’ve all been looking forward to it, but it’s only two days before our qualification round, and we’ll be on our feet and it will throw off our sleep schedule.”

“C’mon, Dick. It’s one night,” George said.

“I know it’s not a big deal for you, being in just one event,” Dick said, sounding judgmental. 

George sat up straighter. “Yeah, I only won the silver medal at last year’s world championships for the high bar. I have no idea how I even got picked for the Olympic team, because that’s not a big deal.”

The three other teammates turned their heads back and forth, following the heated exchange.

Dick grimaced. “That didn’t come out the right way, George. I’m sorry. But you have to see my point. You get it, don’t you, Carwood?”

Everyone looked at Carwood. 

Carwood looked up to Dick, both as a gymnast and a person, so he was slow to voice his dissent. Truthfully, he’d been looking forward to the ceremony quite a bit, and the idea of not going for something like a sleep schedule sounded … well, lame.  “I want to do well, too, Dick, but there are so many things about the games that we don’t want to miss out on. The opening ceremonies, meeting new people …”

“Mènage à trois,” Harry added with a huge grin, and Tab threw the magazine his way. 

“You know what, forget it,” Dick said, clearly agitated. “Let’s just treat this like one big frat party and forget about representing our country and bringing home a medal.” He walked out of the room.

“Aw, Dick, come on!” he heard Harry call out to him, but he didn’t respond. He’d shared his feelings with his team, and they’d shared theirs. 

How was a captain supposed to lead when his team didn’t want to be led?

-

Dick decided to take his frustration out in the weight room, and then he got a massage. Back in the locker room, he checked his phone and saw Harry had messaged him.

Harry: Hey, you okay? We’re going to grab dinner, but I understand if you need to cool off.

Harry: I don’t think that conversation went the way anyone wanted it to.

Harry: They’re all good guys and they care a lot, but we all need a little fun, too.

Harry: You don’t have to be perfect, Dick. You’re already a good leader.

Harry: You know I love you, man. Kitty says she loves you, too (but not like she loves me).

Dick smiled briefly at the words on the screen. Harry was more than just a long time teammate. He’d been his freshman year roommate, one of the first friends he’d made at Penn State, and the guy on the team who understood him the best. They had shared wins and losses and ups and downs. Dick was even there the first time Harry laid eyes on Kitty, and she quickly became one of Dick’s people, too.

Thanks. Dick texted back. Grabbing dinner with Lew. Appreciate the invite, though. I’ll catch you before lights out.

He would need to apologize to them all later - he could see that now. Sometimes he forgot that other people saw the world a little differently than he did. But that was part of being a leader, too. 

It’s good to have people who care about you, he thought.

-

An hour later, Dick took the Metro and walked a few blocks to meet team sponsor Lew Nixon at a bistro. A second-generation tech titan, Lew and his sister, Blanche, needed a way for their father’s software company to save face after Stan’s headline-making fourth divorce. Blanche suggested adopting two Olympic teams that needed financial support and didn’t mind the backing of NixWorks, despite the reputation of its founder. 

So Lew met with men’s gymnastics, promising free housing for its national team members, as well as covering travel expenses and extensive social media coverage. Blanche did the same with the women’s rugby team, and both teams were happy to accept. 

Nix hated athletics - his idea of weight training was 12 ounce curls - and Dick had nothing in common with the San Francisco tech bro. But in spite of their differences - or maybe because of them - the two had become close friends during the past year. Dick appreciated having someone he could talk to outside of the gymnastics bubble he placed himself in leading up to the games. 

Dick spotted Lew sitting at a table for two on the outdoor patio, looking at his phone, a glass of red wine already in front him. 

“Dick!” Lew said, greeting him a little too loudly. Dick thought the glass of wine may not have been Lew’s first of the evening. 

“Have you seen the new dating app we created for the Olympians?” Lew turned his phone around so Dick could see it.

“Yeah. Light My Fire. Great name,” Dick said.

“I know, right?” Lew missed the sarcasm from Dick. “You know, because the torch and everything.”

“I get it,” said Dick.

“And my dad is a huge Jim Morrison fan. Once I told him the idea and the name, he had the programmers start working on it right away.” The waiter came over to go over the specials and take Dick’s drink order. Lew translated and answered back in perfect French.

“Dick, it wouldn’t kill you to try some new things while you’re here,” Lew said, considering his friend over the candle in the middle of the table.

“I don’t like sparkling water. I just want tap. And what’s wrong with ranch dressing?”

Lew tried to hold in his smile.“They call it still water here, Dick. And nothing is wrong with ranch dressing ... if you’re in State College, Pennsylvania. But you happen to be in the culinary capital of the world, and I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” Lew said conspiratorially, leaning a bit closer to Dick across the table. “Champagne vinaigrette won’t get you drunk.”

Dick rolled his eyes. 

Over the meal - Lew had steak frites, rare, and another glass of what Dick learned was Bordeaux, while Dick stuck to water, still, and a grilled chicken salad - Dick shared what had conspired earlier in the day. Dick would have never guessed it when they first met, but Lew was a good listener, always taking in facts and asking pertinent questions. 

Lew took a long sip of wine before sharing his conclusion.

“Listen, I know you don’t have beaches in Pennsylvania, but I’m sure you’ve held sand too tightly before,” Lew said. “I don’t think I need to tell you it usually doesn’t work.”

Dick couldn’t help but laugh. Lew was right.

“I’ve seen all five of you work hard, make sacrifices. You’re all ready for this. Give them a little space, a little freedom. This thing only happens every four years - enjoy it a little!” 

Dick nodded.

When he got back to the room, the team was half-watching an action movie dubbed in English on the television while Kitty was recording George eating another one of those chocolate pastries. Several sets of eyes swung to him and the door as he came in, just as quickly going back to the movie.

He looked down at his feet for a moment. “I owe you all an apology. I came on a little strong earlier, and I’m sorry. I’ve … got a lot on my mind at the moment.” The group continued to watch the movie, but George’s frown had softened a little.

“Here’s the deal,” Dick said in such a way that everyone turned around and stared at him intently. “We’re going to work like hell for the next two days. Then we’ll go to the opening ceremonies. And then we’ll kick some ass.”

His teammates look stunned. They never heard him swear once before, let alone twice in one speech. 

“Fuck yeah,” George answered back, smiling.

“Fuck yeah,” Harry and Tab said at the same time.

Carwood took his time. He didn’t swear much, either. “Fuck yeah,” he finally said, and Harry patted him on the back.

As Kitty recorded the moment on George’s phone for posterity, she knew this group was something special. 

[moregraceful]

Decided I needed an attitude adjustment and a stupid project to subsume my identity in so I made a paper bag book which I have wanted to do for a while and decided for Lent I'm gonna be nicer to my hockey teams and also myself. This will go fine after Friday 👍

Tutorial here for anyone who is curious.

[Video ID: a hand flips through a book made of different colored paper bags. The person filming laughs and says "yay".]

Process pics and blathering under the cut.

Last year I was talking to my church kids about the concept of "love your neighbor as yourself" because I was trying to convince them that the inverse had to be true too, like if you don't love yourself, you can't love your neighbor too...like you can't love your neighbor more than you love yourself, love starts with you. And that's why it's important to drink water and be nice to yourself. And they said whatever Mr. Goose you're so cringe. Can we do a BeReal in class. And I said fine but you have to help me clean up after class (they did not.) But I was thinking about that this morning because I was like, I don't like how I am behaving about my hockey team. This is not the thought pattern of someone filled with love for the people around him. Which is maybe regular brand depression but I spent too many years dragging myself out of being a huge hater to really love how being terminally mad and unhappy makes me feel. So I was like ok, for Lent I am going to be nice to my hockey team. But also that has to be true of myself and this has historically not been true of myself, as literally anyone who has interacted with me for an extended period of time can attest 😎 But ok, for Lent I embrace 1. being nice to my hockey teams, 2. being nice to myself.

But a key part of Lent is the practice and I was like there's no way I magically don't want to immolate myself and others at the end of a game and it's not like CBT has worked on me ever at all, so we're gonna make an art practice of it. I don't know what that looks at all but I'm gonna do it. And one of my goals this year was to use more of my art supplies and I'd wanted to make a paper bag book for a while and I was too lazy to go find and designate a sketchbook for this project -- and also imho sometimes it's good to get a little weird with it. So I grabbed a bunch of gift bags and we are going to see how this goes 😤 Some of the gift bags are really dark and I'm sensing an impending chalk pastels situation but it is what it is.

NOW progress pics

Took off the handles and then glued the edges of the bags and then had to fold them in half. Thank you to the whale who provided that bone folder. I did Elmer's glue for gluing the edges.

Glued the pages together with PVA glue because I remembered I had it lol and realised that it might be sturdier than washable kid's glue. And then realized it was going to take one million years to dry so stacked two 5lb weights on it. After it medium dried I glued a gift bag I got at a holiday shop which I'm lowkey mad about because I don't really want a Lent book with winter holiday imagery on it...but that is what markers, paint, washi tape, etc is for.

Shrove Tuesday is not really something Methodists celebrate because we have never had rizz and we never will but it was nice to do something today anyway.