#thats the song title

[veevadoovee]

First Meeting

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when a character says the name of the episode

[haveihitanerve]

My Sun And Stars

“Nausea is a feeling of discomfort or sickness in the stomach, often described as an urge to vomit. It can also feel like an unsettled stomach or queasiness.”

“Thank Siri.” Stephanie Brown grumbled, arms cradling the toilet bowl as she lay crumpled in the corner of her bathroom. She totally wanted the textbook definition of what nausea was and not what caused it.

But before she could snark this totally useless comment to her inanimate device, a new wave smashed into her and she bent back over the bowl, hurling up her breakfast, and probably last nights dinner, and then all of her internal organs. Or at least, that's what it felt like.

She stayed there for a few minutes, just heaving until nothing came out anymore, and let herself fully collapse to the floor.

After about five minutes when she was sure her body wasn’t going to immediately kill her if she tried to stand, she wobbled to her feet and flushed, washing her hands and her mouth in the sink before stumbling to her bed.

It seemed there was no more denying the test at the bottom of her trashcan. Siri, after giving her about seven different ways to say she felt like her insides were being stretched like a rubber band and basketball-ed out through her throat, it had, in fact, given her a list of reasons as to why she was feeling nauseous. And, unfortunately, pregnancy was decently high up.

She curled onto her side, dragging her comforter over her shoulders as she tugged out her phone. Her fingers hovered over her contact list, lip caught between her teeth. It wasn't that she didn't have people to call. It was just… who.

Her thumb moved to the pinned number, only a heart as the name. Steph sighed, switching off the phone and dropping it on the bed next to her.

Tim… He would… she didn't know, actually. There was no doubt he would care for her if she told him. He had taken care of her when the child hadn’t been his. But that had also been… obligation free. When she hadn’t known who he was. When the kid hadn't been his.

Her hand reached down, cupping her stomach. Last time… she didn't have a particularly good memory or fondness of being pregnant. She hadn't wanted it, the father hadn't been around, and she had been young. So young.

Steph sighed, dropping her hand as she sat up. There wasn't any way to actually keep the pregnancy hidden, not from the worlds greatest detective and not from Bruce either. It wasn't like she saw them on a daily basis or anything.

She dropped her head into her hands, taking deep, measured breaths. She was due for a date with Tim later, at seven. He’d said he’d come to pick her up. Steph glanced at the clock. It was twelve.

She let out a soft whimper groan, getting to her feet and grabbed her coat. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

The walk to Wayne Manor was long, but Steph didn't mind. The cold air gave her something else to focus on, like the numbness of her hands, totally a symptom of the wind and not her anxiousness, and the fact that she was inhaling Gotham air.

She had to smile at that thought, though. It was one of Tim’s biggest gripes. How she and Jason and Bruce all relished breathing the city in deeply, how unbalanced they felt outside of Gotham, how rejuvenated the toxic air made them feel, while it made him gag.

Her smile dropped as she neared the Wayne gates, bypassing them with ease. With her keys. She knew it would set off alarms, she never used the gate the normal way. None of them did, save Alfred. But she honestly was too tired to care.

Bruce, surprisingly, opened the door. “Tim isn’t here. He and Cass are out right now.” Steph nodded, the numbness spreading slightly. She had wanted to put off the reveal, but now that she was here she just wanted to get it over with.

“Steph?” Bruce asked gently, and she realized he’d been speaking. He stepped aside, gesturing at the foyer. “Would you like to come in?” For about the first time, Steph realized she very much did.

She nodded, stumbling into the entrance as Bruce closed the door behind her, still so gentle. So careful. He reached for her jacket, but Steph leaned away. She needed the comfort of something thick around her.

“Would you like a blanket?” Bruce asked quietly, because of course he knew. Of course he saw. He always saw. Saw all of her. Too much.

Steph nodded, allowing him to slip the jacket off her shoulders, ignoring the tender way in which his fingers brushed against the nape of her neck, so warm, so familiar, so comforting.

She marched into the den instead, away from him, away from his eyes, away from his knowing. But of course he followed, he always followed, and a big, heavy, comforting black blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, a purple bat stamped on the back. Her blanket. Because he’d made one for her. For all of them. His past Robins, Batgirls, his children who had found such comfort in curling under his cape that he had made them blankets of it.

“Is everything alright Stephanie?” He asked gently. Steph shook her head, sinking onto the couch. She knew he wanted to push. It was just how Bruce functioned. But he held back, nodded. Brought her a plate of food, a glass of water, and let her sit. Quiet.

Steph nibbled at the warm cookies, freshly baked, and watched the door. He didn’t come, not for a while, long enough that Steph stood, muttering about using the bathroom to Bruce, who only nodded and returned to his book.

She headed up the stairs, stumbling into the annoyingly lavish bathroom, and leaned against the sink. She wasn't feeling nauseous, thank Diana, but she still felt unsteady.

“Steph?” A knock on the door. Steph breathed shakily, realizing belatedly that her eyes were stinging with tears. “Steph?” Jason knocked again, more insistent. “I saw you go in there Brown. You good?” He sounded so worried. So… so much like he cared about her. He did, of course. She knew that.

“No.” she choked out, and it was all he needed, picking the lock and opening the door.

“Steph…” he breathed, closing the door behind her. “What do you need?” Straight to the point. She appreciated it. No questions she didn't want to answer. No useless comforting words that didn't help.

“A hug.” She gasped out, and Jason moved, enveloping her in his arms, cradling her as they sank to the floor, Jason’s back thumping against the door.

It wasn’t until she spotted the wet spots on his jacket that Steph realized she was crying. She hadn't cried. Not when the pregnancy test had come out. Not when nausea had crippled her to bed for three days, not when Bruce had been so gentle.

But now… hot, fat tears streamed down her cheeks, and Jason didn't comment, holding her close, his arms warm and strong and protective, blocking her from the world, from words, from things she didn't want to talk about, from herself.

She didn't know how long they sat there, Jason rubbing soothing circles on her back, but at some point Bruce had come up, knocked, asked quietly if she was okay. Jason had answered and he had left again.

Steph hiccuped, tears finally empty. “I got you.” Jason murmured, lifting her without strain, setting her on the counter and grabbed some towels, wiping her cheeks free, and handing her a few tissues.

“Steph?” Bruce’s voice. Outside the door. So he hadn't left entirely. “Tim is here.” Steph nodded, and Jason called out a thank you to him.

“You okay? What’s Timmy done?” Jason asked, hands resting on either side of her legs as he looked up at her face.

Steph shook her head. “Nothing I didn't want.” She mumbled. Jason raised an eyebrow and she realized how bad the words sounded. She let out a slight hiccupy laugh, shaking her head. “I’m pregnant.” The words blurted out before Steph could reconsider, and Jason stared at her, mouth actually dropping. She laughed again, shaking her head as she used the tissues to wipe at her eyes.

“You're- so- this. Tim-” Jason stumbled backwards, grabbing his head. He shook himself, pulling himself together, most endearingly. “So um,” He gestured to her, to the mound of tissues, to the tear stains on his jacket. “Were these uh, happy tears or…?”

Steph shrugged. “I don't. Know. Emotions?” She guessed and Jason nodded.

“Okay. You’re telling Tim?” She nodded. “How long have you known?”

Steph twisted the towel in her hands, looking away. “I took a pregnancy test a few weeks ago. I got sick last week. I wasn't sure, but um… for about a week now?” She didn’t specify “a few” meant six.

But Jason undoubtedly knew she wasn't telling the full truth. Honesty, but withholding information was basically the family's motto. Bruce was lucky they were at least all honest. Not fully, but honest nonetheless.

Jason helped her off the sink, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear and helping to wipe away the last few residues of crying. “You good?” He asked quietly, and Steph almost laughed. His resemblance to Bruce was almost scary.

“I'm good. Gotta get it over with.” She shrugged, reaching for the doorhandle, but Jason caught her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“You know that no matter what Timmy says, you’ve got a home here. With us. B won’t let you leave once he learns he’s a grandfather.” He pulled back, looking her in the eyes. “And you’ll always have a place in my apartment. You know that yeah?”

Steph nodded, pushing his shoulder. “You’ll make me cry again you jerk.” Jason laughed, opening the door.

“Good. Now, I feel a little bad, so just know that Tim won’t deny you. He’s not like that. I promise. And if he is…” Steph snorted, leaving the bathroom and heading down the stairs.

“I know. I know. Thanks Jason.” He stayed at the top of the stairs, saluting.

“Of course. Dead Robins gotta stay together y'know?” He smirked, smile turning softer. “Need me?”

Steph shook her head. “No. Thanks. I've got to do this alone.” Jason nodded.

“I know he’s my brother, but you’re my sister too, Steph. I’ll beat him up.” Steph laughed, waving over her shoulder.

“Bye Jason.” He sighed, but let her leave.

Tim was in the den, waiting for her, if his nervous tapping was any indication. He looked up the second she walked in, eyes scanning her carefully as he walked over, hands automatically settling on her arms.

“Hey, you okay? You've been crying.” His eyes were worried, hands careful as he tugged her to the couch. Bruce nodded to them and stood, giving them privacy.

“I’m… fine.” Steph murmured, sinking onto the couch next to him, folding her legs under her body as she tugged Bruce’s blanket to her.

Tim was watching her, leg bouncing. “You’re scaring me Steph. What's up?” Steph sighed, fiddling with the blanket on her shoulders.

“I’ve uh, been sick recently. Nauseous and um, I’ve been craving these awful pickle hotdogs.” Tim wrinkled his nose, but she could tell his mind was whirring, cycling through why she thought this was relevant information to share.

As much as she liked to talk, most of it had a purpose, and he had been one of the first few people to notice it. “Pickle hotdogs again?” He murmured, slight teasing in his tone. “You haven't wanted those since-”

Steph saw the exact moment he realized what she meant. His gaze darted up, scanning her again, as if she’d already be showing.

“You- you’re pregnant.” It wasn’t a question, but a carefully stated fact. Steph nodded, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t withdraw, and he didn't yell, but he didn't react positively either. In fact, he didn't react at all.

“Okay.” Tim said softly. “You’re pregnant. Still in the first trimester, so you have time. Bruce has money, I have money, hell we could even do it in the cave here if you want, Alfred knows how, I think, he was a doctor, and of course we have enough medicine to keep you unconscious and free of pain, you won't feel a thing-”

“Tim, what are you talking about?” Steph interrupted his fast paced ramble, and he paused, looking up at her.

“What?” Steph’s arms curled around her waist.

“I want to keep it.”

And she knew it was true. Before, abortion hadn't been an option. Not just because there would have been no one who could have provided it for her, but also because it had been too late when she’d discovered it, and much too late when she had a discussion with herself on whether or not she wanted to keep it. It hadn't mattered what she wanted, anyway. She wouldn't have been given one.

But this time… this time she had a choice. This time she was older, this time she could handle a child. This time she wanted a child. And Tim… Tim was the father. She wanted him to be the father. But if he didn't want to- Steph looked at him, but Tim’s eyes were glowing.

“You want to keep it?” He breathed. Steph nodded slowly, unsure. Before she could ask what he wanted, she was pressed into the couch, Tim’s arms wrapped around her in a tackle hug.

“I love you I love you I love you I love you.”

Tim chanted into her neck, arms squeezing tighter, and Steph laughed, lifting his head between her hands. “You.. you want to have a kid?”

Tim’s smile was blinding. “Are you kidding? With you? Yes. I- I always wanted kids.” He admitted quietly. “When I became Robin, and then Red Robin, it… the dream became just that. A dream. But then I met you, and you were pregnant, and then we dated, and now…” He sighed. “I thought you’d never want kids after what happened. And i was fine with it. I am fine with it. But if you want it. If you are… then yes. Yes.”

Steph leaned up and kissed him, and his hands dug into her sides, kissing back like he’d never stop, like he’d never let go, like he’d never leave her. Steph knew he wouldn't.

“You are the father, by the way.” She murmured a half hour later, Tim’s head on her chest, his hand drawing lazy circles on her stomach as her hands glided through his hair. “Just in case you wanted it from me. We can do a blood test, of course, I know you’ll want that. But you are. Its only you. Its only ever going to be you.”

Tim propped himself up on his elbow, leaning down to kiss her again. “Its only you for me too Steph. Spoiler and Robin. Tim Drake and Stephanie Brown. The dead robins. Forever.” Steph smiled, running her hands through his chest.

“That sounds pretty perfect Wonder Boy.” Tim grinned, hand tightening on her hip. “Perfect.” Steph laughed, and they sat up together, slowly, leaning against each other.

“Two imperfect people. How perfect.” Tim laughed, and Steph couldn’t help it. She kissed him again. 

[habibisagi]

rin will almost exclusively go after you and fall for you if you’re chubby btw. the smallest things you do always drive him crazy. on top of you being so cute and he’s horrible at expressing that he thinks you are - if you show skin around him or wear something that is just... so you and you look at him all innocent like you don’t know what you’re doing, he is fighting demons to hold back on touching you, his mouth feels so dry and he wants to bite you really fucking bad. if you are just friends at a point, it is 10x worse like he feels like he deserves to be chained over it because the inability to hold back can only go so far... he is a bit strange when he feels cuteness aggression towards you like he grits his teeth, his cheeks get so hot (unbearably hot), and it feels suffocating to not touch you. he'd need to turn away for a minute or go walk it off it’s sooo bad

[shoezuki]

Cut open my sternum and pull my little ribs around you

Sampo hears about what happened a few days later. 

He’d learned that maybe bothering Gepard daily wasn’t the best course of action, thanks to Seele calling him weird and saying the Captain would inevitably snap and have enough of his teasing. He’d laughed her off and delighted in how she became even more riled up, but she was on to something. Sampo still doesn’t quite know what he wants out of… whatever this, but he definitely, definitely doesn’t want Gepard to become truly sick of him. Not to mention many Silvermane Guards are starting to have more… severe reactions to his presence. 

So, he’s practicing some self restraint and learning how to keep himself away from the Front Lines, the Fort, anywhere Gepard will be. He plays with the kids in the Underworld, twisting metal into toys and puppets that dance around with them. Sometimes he tries to appeal to the kids playing in the Overworld, but more often than not they look at his hair and his clothes and his grin and wince with apprehension. Otherwise, he drinks with Seele and makes her lose her Shields in poker, or he flutters around Nat’s clinic until she sends him off to gather medicine, or he watches Luka’s cage matches and challenges him to an arm wrestle. When Luka can stomach being around him without recoiling at the slightest show of divinity, anyways. 

Sampo’s business is mostly enough to keep him entertained, sometimes it’s even enough to keep Gepard out of his mind. 

Read the full thing on ao3!!!!

[sonofarathorn]

My favorite song titles from the Quantamania score

[fffanii]

09.22.24

some random pjii stuff. this makes sense to me and me only but maybe ill explain it at some point in the future !!!

[lycankeyy]

creature comforts

Actual ficlet woagh,,, (~750 words lol). I wrote this earlier before my head started hurting and my head still hurts so I can't really edit it but I want to post it bc I haven't been posting content much and its supposed to be kind of stream-of-conscious anyway. Like I'd apologize for it not being super coherent but it's not really supposed to be yknow BDJQJD

TW: past torture and trauma discussion

BFs in this one-shot: cyborg!bf (cyber, mine), yourself is extensively talked about but only kind of technically there I guess (ys, @ochrearia)

-

Cyber was a good listener. When you lived the short life that he had - and it was easier to convince himself that he was merely a few months old compared to his body's fourteen years - always listening was what kept you safe. You listened to conversations you weren't meant to hear. You listened to the feelings under the words, and then the feelings under those, until you'd heard five variants of the same sentence and had a plan for each. It was another thing he was sure that if he told anyone about it, it would be another poor Cyber thing. It was only second nature, though. Something that wouldn't bother him until he was older.

He knew Yourself more than he'd ever wanted him to.

Didn't blame him, not really. Cyber was the baby. Littlest brother. The littlest brother who'd already been through enough. It's not like he expected an adult to come to a would-be high school freshman for emotional support, anyway. Still, he was good at listening. Overhearing. Knowing.

He wondered if YS knew him. Not the surface of him, but the things underneath, the same way Cyber pried apart other people. Wondered if he knew the way nothing had been afforded to him. Not his life. Not his body. Not his tongue. Not his memories. Not even his own self. All, at one point or another, belonged to someone else. Autonomy stripped completely, slowly fought back for, a battle he had a gut feeling would never quite end.

Not that he wanted other people think about that, or what it meant. He didn't want people to see his scars and think about what led to him getting them. He didn't want people to see the way he flinched at the smallest touch and think about what caused it. He did not want a single person to ever look at him and know. Too deep, too much.

But, y'know, he wondered.

Wondered if he ever realized that this was one of the few choices he'd ever been allowed to make. Loving him, he meant.

It was far from a secret that YS hated himself. It was one of those things Cyber wasn't supposed to know, though. One of those things that wasn't supposed to be his problem. One of those things that he wasn't supposed to worry about. Not that he had a choice in it, either. Too good a listener.

Unfortunate thing about that earlier part about his tongue hardly being his - how was he supposed to say anything? He'd never been good at words in the first place, according to his boyfriend (and Boyf backed that up), and they were so much more... difficult, than feelings.

Too easy to slip up. One wrong phrase and the whole thing goes under. Things meant as compliments could be taken so easily as insults to someone who wasn't in the right frame of mind. And when, exactly, was a good time to talk about something like this, anyway? He didn't know. Nobody ever told him.

So he would sit at YS' side, praying that mere feelings would be enough, knowing that they wouldn't be. When he was really desperate, he invoked something deeply childish and hoped that if he could just think it loud enough, maybe he would hear him.

Thank you for being Safe. I love you. You are like if a muscle relaxer was a person - is that funny to say? I love you. You make me less scared to be alive. I love you. Your joy is like stars twinkling in a new-moon sky. I love you. Thank you for being alive. I love you. I love you.

And then he would curse the mental blocks in his head that made utilizing the man's telepathy magic almost impossible.

It wasn't enough. He wasn't enough, but he supposed nobody had asked him to be. So he would press himself into YS' shoulder, purr as loud as he could, and maybe get a laugh - "the hell are you doing that for? There's nobody else here." - and he would love, love, love. Love until YS got sick of it. Least he could do.

He knew something else he wasn't supposed to. His little secret, for now, which he was more than fine with, as his non-human eyes painted his angel a nice candy-apple red whenever he entered the room.

What a coincidence for it to be Cyber's favorite color.

[l0ser-nicolaz]

i dont really wanna go rn

i just really wanna die rn

nothing for me on this earth

ive been fucked up since my birth

[princescar]

The Milk Carton is going into my Mukuro playlists

[good-beanswrites]

I put together a few Lights, Camera, Sing Your Sins thoughts! Details about characters, filming, reactions, etc. I doubt I'll get the chance to smoothly work some of them into the drabbles, but I still wanted to share them :)

Post-T1 thoughts:

The first few days out of the prison are really weird and awkward – the prisoners got too deep in the immersion and are slowly remembering what’s real and talking some things out. Before these major emotions can wear off, they’re pulled aside by various writers and teams to make a plan for the next trial. They meet up with deco*27 himself and the songwriting begins

They each have a private bedroom in the facility. The first night, they’re all super excited to not be sleeping in those uncomfortable cells, and then immediately feel really closed off to the others. For some it remains a good thing – Yuno is glad for the isolation, Fuuta’s paranoia about judgment is eased, etc. Still, it’s strange to be separated from the people they’ve been side-by-side with for a year and a half, 24/7. Many of them end up sleeping on the floor of one another’s room or leaving their doors wide open. 

Jackalope is using long distance tech to project his voice into the prison, but the animal in the prison is just a well-trained pet with some hardcore costuming. Freed from its little uniform, the rabbit gets lots of pets and pampering from the prisoners. 

They aren’t allowed to leave and visitors must be for filming purposes only, but each prisoner is allowed a phone call (“hey, just like a real prison!” Jackalope laughs). Haruka calls his sister, and so does Fuuta. They stay on the phone for a really long time. Yuno calls her parents, making sure to say hi to Yura. Muu calls her parents too, and cries hearing their voices. Shidou calls his family; being separated from them for so long only confirms his near-miss intentions. Mahiru realizes too late she should have called her family – instead, fresh off the guilty verdict, she calls her ex to apologize profusely. Kazui considers a few people he could call, but doesn’t take Jackalope up on the offer right away. Later in the hiatus he calls his childhood friend just to say hi; he doesn’t mention any of the experiment stuff going on. Amane wanted to call her father, but she doesn’t want to break the news that she’s not doing a good job because of her verdict. She waits until she knows he’ll be out per his usual schedule, and leaves a brief and formal message on the machine. Mikoto calls his mom and sister, asking about how everyone’s doing (and largely avoiding talking about himself). Kotoko calls her family, surprised at how emotional she gets hearing their voices. 

Jackalope makes the mistake of mentioning updated guilty uniforms in front of the prisoners. Fashion expert Mahiru, designer Mikoto, and just simply nosy Yuno and Muu track down the costuming team to “help.” Though there’s not a ton of alterations to be made, they enjoy being a part of the process. They end up sticking around and chatting about mv outfits.  Mahiru enjoys everyone’s choices and fittings, and promises Amane they’ll go shopping someday and have a proper dress fitting. She asks if Es is going to get a new uniform as well. When told no, she vows she’ll take them shopping as well.

Though not allowed to leave, they’re at least allowed to step outside in designated areas. They enjoy the sun and rain and stars. The smoking group is excited to meet outside. Mikoto makes sure to hang out with them a bit extra seeing as he’s going to leave the group a bit come T2.  

I wrote the drabbles as individual scenes since it was nice to give each prisoner their own time like that, but logically some filming would be overlapped a bit. Jackalope would still want to direct everything as best he could, but there may be multiple scenes filming at once. I just really liked the idea of the mixing of props and costumes. They yell “cut!” as Bee Muu takes a shortcut through the Backdraft set. Yuno accidentally leaves her pink-glasses rabbit in one of the AKAA chairs and Haruka laughs in the middle of a take as he moves it out of frame. Amane is on a quick break from her scene and Mikoto shows her around the train still in full marching band getup. (I just realized these were all back to back videos, but I think any and all can overlap lol)

Shidou is still the one to administer Mahiru and Fuuta’s bandages. Even though it’s fake, he wants it a) to be his real handiwork and b) to be accurate, given the disaster of Throw Down. He’s excited to share his knowledge and explain exactly how each of their imagined injuries would affect them, telling them the proper way to act. Mahiru listens intently, all but taking notes, while Fuuta is bored to death of his doctor-jargon ramble.

Back pre-T1, Jackalope started off telling the prisoners they can choose their song titles (just for organization's sake, Es won’t see them) but he ends up taking over because their titles are really, really bad. It’s a mix of those really long sentence-style titles and cool words/phrases that have absolutely nothing to do with the song itself. Jackalope goes through the files renaming “The Sweet Whispers of A Lost Love,” “Fuck You,” “They say three strikes and you’re out but clearly they’ve never met me before” and “Kotokos_song.mp3”. By the time they start filming second trial videos, it doesn’t phase him to open up files titled “Elegy to a Broken Heart,” “I checked the train schedule five times and still missed my stop,” “I Can’t Be Normal,” and “Kotokos_song(1).mp3”. 

And some post-T2 thoughts:

The verdicts are both easier and harder to handle this time around. This is the second break from the immersion, and it’s easier to separate reality from experiment. However, the videos and interrogations this time around were a lot more raw, so there’s an extra sting of betrayal to them. Es got to look deep – much deeper than most – and still chose not to forgive.

Haruka isn’t really worried about death or harm from the verdict, but he does feel betrayed that Es would throw his life away like that. Muu doesn’t fear the consequences, but is saddened that once again she made someone like her only to turn against her when they saw her true self. The t1 guilties have a little meetup where they breathe a collective sigh of relief and congratulate one another on making it through. Fuuta just kind of sinks in relief, while Mikoto is giving out high-fives. Then they make a beeline for the current guilties to see how they can help.

Mahiru and Mikoto were always helpful to the others, but Fuuta surprises everyone by constantly checking in with the guilty prisoners. He remembers how much the verdict sucked and wants to try and help/prepare them as much as he can.

Red appears every once and a while to force people to take breaks when filming gets very involved/tiring. While Blue is pretty chill and cheery about everyone staying hydrated and getting good sleep, Red is a bit more serious with his approach. 

I think with another innocent verdict and seeing everyone 'behind the scenes,' Kazui would finally, finally start opening up to people. I like to think, as Yuno starts filming another video about very comfortable with her sexuality, he approaches her first with the topic.

When given the chance to make phone calls, most of the prisoners choose the same people as before. Haruka doesn’t want to call anyone at first, but is glad when Muu forces him to call his sister. He’s by her side when she calls her parents. Mahiru remembers to call her parents first, telling them to pass along her well wishes to others. She got the verdict she was hoping for, but Amane can’t bring herself to call home. 

The upcoming videos will likely be even more intense, but that just makes everyone band together more. They give each other confidence. They work extra hard to get silly goofy when it’s in good taste. 

[thepandalion]

help I'm going insane over deltarune and Undertale stuff again

[alucardsinep]

politseikroonika ja suvilas on reid (vormis mehed külas mul on väga okei)

[imperfectnothing]

Believe Me Darling, the Stars Were Made for Falling (SPECIMEN LOG: 001247)

❈

Sticking out like a sore thumb, neutron star amongst a sea of empty cosmos, Cirrus lingers on the balcony jutting out from their room. Choppy white hair moves around restlessly, almost as if it has a life of its own. Their vivid, ultramarine eyes stare ahead without direction, practically lifeless save for the way that their chest shudders slightly with every exhale. They still haven't noticed him even though he's not doing anything to hide himself anymore. They simply stand there like a doll propped up against the metal railing, ripe for the picking. Frankly, they should be grateful that Nyx isn't here to kill them because it would be so easy.

Too easy.

It was impossible to miss Cirrus' expression when they won, more horrified than relieved, someone who undoubtedly wished for death just as much as Tov begged for life. Now, their sleepclothes fluttering in the lazy breeze, they look like a ghost peering out at the living from the afterlife, when in reality, they're one of the only left alive. Nyx lets loose a sigh, trying to steady himself with a few breaths in and out, before he slips out of the shadows. Slinking over to his former classmate, he eventually settles onto the railing to their right.

"Cirrus," he says, breaking the silence. They don't react, not even a twitch of the face or their eye sliding towards him. "Cirrus," he says again, this time louder and more enunciated. They close their eyes and press their lips together, shaking their head. He repeats himself again but they just put their hands over their ears, murmuring something inaudible to themself as the crease between their eyebrows deepens. Nyx leans in closer and he can finally make out some of the words they are muttering under their breath.

"Don't listen, it's not real," they whisper, tears budding at the corners of their eyes. Nyx has the instinct to wipe them away but he stays his hand- he doesn't know Cirrus well enough to touch them without permission and they're in no state to be giving permission of any kind right now.

"Cirrus, it's okay, I'm not here to hurt you," Nyx tries to reassure them, putting his hands on the railing to keep them from reaching out in a futile attempt to comfort. They shake their head again, tears streaming down their cheeks all the fiercer. "I'm sorry, I wasn't- I know you didn't want to win, but it's not your fault. You weren't the one who killed them."

"All I wanted to do was save her," Cirrus interjects, their hands shifting to cover their eyes. "I wanted to be the final flower in the garden but everyone except for me is gone. What have I done to deserve this? Nothing. I did nothing, and therefore, I am haunted by those I once faced in the past."

"Y'know, out of the two of us, you're the one who looks more like a ghost," Nyx blurts out before he can think better of it, wincing at himself as soon as the wry comment slips from his lips. They uncover their eyes, frowning at him in confusion even as a hesitant smile twitches at the corner of their lips. Nyx chuckles and reaches back to scratch at his neck, self-effacing. "Man, I really should've just kept my yap shut, eh? You're grieving and I'm here running my mouth." They shake their head at him and laugh lightly, long lost echoes of birdsong all too quickly eaten by the wind.

"I wish I had gotten to know you," they murmur, glancing back out to the bright sky, stars obscured by streaks of noctilucent clouds shining in the night. "Maybe things would have been different."

"I wish I'd gotten to know you, too." Nyx looks down at the palm of his hand and wonders what could have been different, if everything went another way. What could have been, had they all made different choices. Could they have managed to avoid this fate, two of the last standing of a graduating class? Or would it have ended up the same, fate resolute in its path. Nyx presses his fist to his mouth and tries not to cry. "I wish things could've been different."

❈

Okay so finally finished my log directly following round 30!! wahoo! um yeah sorry this took so long yunyun but i hope it's alright in spite of that! it's probably obvious, but this log is focused more on Cirrus and the consequences of actions made in the past, mistakes that can never be undone, regrets, whether or not you would go back and change anything, fate, that sort of thing? Nyx doesn't believe in fate but he's not the type to linger on "what if"s either so he's kind of stuck in a weird liminal space when it comes to this kind of thing. anywayyyyyys i will try to get another log out. soon. that one will kind of address nyx's mental state a little more. . .

tagging @ivanttakethis because tov is was the other contestant in round 30, tagging @yunoftheclouds because your baby features very heavily in this (i really hope i characterized them correctly!!), uhh, and I'll tag @lookatmysillies because Nyx content 🥺 anyways love y'all hope you have a lovely day!!

[art--harridan]

[Image description: A digital drawing of a shot from the film La semana del asesino. It shows three hands holding a pair of binoculars. The hands belong to the characters Marcos and Néstor, although it is unclear which hand belongs to who, as they are indiscernible from one another in size and colour. One hand cups the bottom, and two hold onto either side. You can see the beginning of both of their shoulders, with Marcos' shoulder on the right and Néstor's on the left. There is a vague suggestion of a room in the background, with panelling and curtains. The lineart is a dark blue, and has very pronounced shadows. The colours for each element do not have any shading or lighting outside of this, except for the gleam on the binoculars. The colour scheme is desaturated and cold, mostly comprising of blues with small sections of yellows or even orange (for the binoculars' strap).]

Inktober - Day 5 (Binoculars)

Film - La semana del asesino (Eloy de la Iglesia, 1972)

[borrelia]

>song about how ai is theft or what the fuck ever >samples from kikuo's "breaking things into pieces" >lists sample as just "hatsune miku" >people point out the rightful credit >doubles down, refuses to change it for fear of getting sued? >people point out kikuo has a public statement okaying the reupload + use of his songs >TRIPLES DOWN

what are you dooiiinnggg