#when she started doing bad things

[tweedfrog]

*gets on my soapbox*: AND THIS IS WHY THEY SHOULD HAVE HAD RHAENYRA ISSUE THE ORDER TO KILL VAEMOND

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[bixels]

vague-posting about this here cuz i don't feel comfortable yapping about my su takes on twitter, but after everything that's happened the most interesting thing about the su fandom to me is that so many are 100% there for applying the "everyone can change and deserves a second chance" message to everyone, even the diamonds. except for one ☝️ she doesn't count. cuz she's dead.

[jicklet]

Ember and Wade in Elemental (2023)

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[tastycitrus]

there's an alternate timeline where the new 52 reboot kept all three batgirls but retconned all the robins except for dick, who went back to being robin with nightwing banned from being mentioned at all

[aeb-art]

note: the following is three (almost four) years post-game

okay fine i'll just draw comics for my au since writing is so dang hard smh

anyways welcome to two coins! where loop shows up again but siffrin only got the one hat ending

edit: part two

[ineed-to-sleep]

*me immediately after going through a terrifying and traumatic experience* haha yeah I guess it was rough but I'm fine now like I'm totally chill. It was kinda funny actually if you think about it

[all-my-ocs-are-evil]

i feel like i've lost the ability to draw so here are some doodles/ 1st draft designs I made for some of the monster high girlies bc I've still got the urge to draw despite that. they all need some work but I feel like I've gotten to a good starting point.

ive got quite a few ideas for the rest but we'll see if I ever get to them lol

beware the tags! (i never shut up)

[butwhatifidothis]

it annoys me so much when people say "edel had no other choice" as a thought terminating cliche. like even IF that were true, how one goes about that is still a characterful thing that gets minimized to "so it's not her fault stop being mean to her she just did what she had to". like. does she feel regret? does she apologize ot the people she's hurting? does she view it as righteous? who knows, becuase the argument is only ever used as a "stop being mean to my wife" line and not a character thing.

Yeah cuz like. Okay so let's say that starting the war was absolutely not her fault because xyz circumstance robs her of any substantial say in the matter.

What about using Demonic Beasts? What about her siccing her army and different set of Demonic Beasts on her own "friends" so that she could make more Demonic Beasts? Stealing from a gravesite to do so? What about starving her citizens, and being the only lord TO starve her citizens in their route? What about killing Judith as she ran away from her? Hell, invading the neutral Alliance in the first place? What about helping the Death Knight get away with stealing Flayn if 25 turns pass? What about saying nothing about Kronya even after Solon reveals himself at Remire? What about giving Jeritza a hunting ground to enable his bloodlust and not, like. Professional help?

She couldn't even mention a means she's working on to do anything about her starving citizens? Did she have to blame Claude (and everyone really) not immediately bowing down to her as to why the Alliance was violently invaded, and not her violent invasion being the reason it was violently invaded? What about persecuting Church followers who didn't do shit to anybody, did she have to do that shit too? Never freeing Brigid and instead stationing her men there on her route and sending Hubert there off of it; that was forced on her too? Taking Byleth's credit during the siege instead of letting them get the recognition they deserve - what, just, fate forcing her hand once again?

Are we really going to sit here and say because the war "needed" to happen, Edelgard was forced to do literally all of that (and more)? That because Edelgard was "forced" into war, she was also forced to do literally anything involving the war?

Like you said, her stans saying that she "had no choice" but to start the war does nothing to say anything about her as a character, because they also reject everything else she did regarding her war as having anything to do with her agency. They treat "she had to do this" as a means to protect the moral purity they want her character to have so they don't feel bad rooting for the villain to win, not as something that goes on to mean anything for her.

And I'm not asking for her to save literally every single person ever from any harm ever to prove her care about not going to war exists, I'm asking for LITERALLY ANYTHING. Because she quite literally does nothing to mitigate harm from anybody in this war, and regardless of whether the war was "forced" on her hands or not she absolutely could have done something to make sure her people suffered as minimally as possible. Which damn sure isn't seen in her hiding behind them as she sits in her throne room (a thing Dimitri and Claude absolutely don't do, with either similar or less time to prepare to protect their people). Or starves them, a thing uniquely said about her route (as literally all the other ones have the army go with lacking food supplies). Or allows Thales to conscript them under threat of death. Or openly saying that she thinks weak people would only stay weak after her war because they're "too used to relying on others" - because when her war takes everything away from people, it'd be THEIR fault for staying weak, which is *chef's kiss* so kind and caring amiright guys. Definitely shows off that she understands and/or cares about the ramifications of her war onto the people, and not that she has her head shoved squarely and firmly up her ass.

What does it meaningfully mean for the war to not be Edelgard's fault, if she's not going to do anything to indicate that she cares about other people enough to want to not force war on them? Hell, when she very explicitly shows she doesn't particularly care about how it'd affect people, if it affects people in a way that doesn't align with her beliefs? When she very explicitly says she's perfectly willing to sacrifice her people for her higher cause, and then goes on to sacrifice her people for her higher cause? If she doesn't even try to help others because the war was forced on her, that at best makes her one of powerless victim or uncaring defeatist - neither of which fit the resolute caring ambitious revolutionary they paradoxically also want her to be. So, again, what does it actually mean for the war to not be a result of Edelgard's agency, if she regardless of that still shows callous indifference to those harmed by the war?

It's a question no one who posits this about Edelgard is able to answer, because as you said, it's not meant to be anything more than a shallow defense against her own actions. Letting Edelgard have even the slightest smidgen of agency in her own actions means accepting that she is a massive fucking penis. A huge gaping asshole. A plain ol' jerk. Which again! Is INFINITELY more engaging to watch than this marionette strung along by literally everyone around her into "looking" like a villain, only being her "true" self when she's feeding kittens and dwawing her cwush and burping her googoo gaga babyass girlfriend they also tend to make (f!)Byleth over her shoulder

[bacchuschucklefuck]

love thinking kipperlilly spends her afterlife looking for lucy in a familiar forest

[dykedvonte]

I know you've had to have already touched on it but you ask for Mouthwashing asks and your last post finally made me think of something to say: the one (1) time in the game when Jimmy gets the closest to asking Anya why she's keeping Curly alive. Buddy!! Why are YOU!!! Curly wasn't your Captain anymore the moment he started talking about moving on and leaving you behind; after the crash you realized he was just your little Redemption Barbie now. The first time we open the med cabinet I thought we were going to be able to kill Curly by pouring the disinfectant down his mouth instead of the painkillers. But no, Jimmy goes out of his way to keep him alive. His "why are you keeping him alive" (paraphrasing) felt so accusatory because it *is* an accusation. Everything he does is a self-report. He keeps Curly alive so he can force Curly to be whatever he wanted him to be-- his savior, his junior, his punching bag, his best friend, his mistake, his enemy. Anya escapes from Jimmy the only way she can in the end but by then he didn't give a shit about her anyway because Curly was the easier target.

Him asking that question to Anya could even potentially be a parallel to the pause before he tells Curly he's going to "take care of it" (or "handle it", idr). Curly had the opportunity to rob him of his power-- to stop him from crashing the ship, to assert his authority and step up-- but he didn't. Jimmy asking Anya why she's keeping Curly alive is in a way taunting her with a similar kind of opportunity: she hypothetically has the ability to rob Jimmy of his power over Curly, to use her authority as the medical officer to end Curly's care, but she can't. And Jimmy knows she can't, and she won't stop him from keeping Curly alive to use him, just like he knew Curly wouldn't stop him from crashing the ship. He only gives the chance when he already knows the answer.

I think this is a misconception, Jimmy is the one who brings it up. Anya doesn't even acknowledge the idea verbally outside of saying she feels nauseous, likely due to the pregnancy and the idea of eating him.

He mentions they all agreed to keep him alive and implies the first reason is a back up food source, though, that's likely his first reason and the others just couldn't bring themselves to kill a guy or thought he deserved it to some extent. I like to think of it less as him taunting her power and more him trying to supplement his ideas into her head the same way he would with Curly. It's very reminiscent of the last conversation he had with Curly of doing something dire and not getting any push back, not by way of her agreeing with him but a non answer.

The relationships between Anya, Curly and Jimmy heavily reflect each other specially when it comes to being victimized by him and how he gets in their head. Anya is way more aware than Curly but lacks the position/power to stop it while Curly is less aware/resigned due to how long it has likely been going on despite having the power to shut Jimmy down. Jimmy is dependent on the two to actually solve his problems and do most of the leg work but becomes hostile the moment he feels it undermines his perception of them or himself in relation.

I do agree that Jimmy is aware Anya won't fight back against him like Swansea does or question him like Daisuke will. He is putting her into the same space as Curly but the key difference is he doesn't see her as a person. He is using her to supplement the active role Curly can't be but doesn't have that loyal friend aspect from her as she just fears and resents him. He's projecting on to her a lot but she never really concedes or acknowledges it in the way Curly did. He hates it and the sort of emotional games he plays with her reaches their peak when she locks herself in medical.

It's very interesting to see how he acts in the post crash without Curly as he is 100% worse but you can see how much of that is because he is aware there is no one to actually cover for his sorry ass now.

[feroluce]

Belobog was my fave main quest but a lot of it is so. Contradictory. It's like they had multiple groups doing different shit and none of them checked in with each other for consistency. And you see this so much in Gepard's profile.

So in the main quest, they made him unfailingly, unquestionably loyal to Cocolia. Gepard's character arc is him learning to question authority etc etc. And this isn't even a bad thing; that's a story worth telling! It makes good conflict between him and Serval! And I love that we got Gepard as a boss battle and I get to see him all the time in SU!

But then you look at his character stories and it's like. The complete opposite.

According to his profile, Gepard has already HAD this awakening, long before the Astral Express, and he'd already decided Cocolia sucks. Even outside of his stories, there's a pretty damning readable between him and Pela.

He even disobeyed direct orders right in front of her- he has been disobeying orders for a while now!

So I've decided I'm marrying the two different sides of this into a 1.5k fic-ish thingy, because I think there's some fun potential there with Gepard not trusting Cocolia, but still having to pretend to be a good obedient little soldier.

Anyway. I love to think of it as like. Gepard knows Cocolia has sunk into her apathy. He can see it in her eyes every time he looks at her. She doesn't care. Not about him, not about Pela, not about all his soldiers on the frontlines giving their lives to protect the citizens. And that's... It makes him bristle a bit, but ok. Gepard can deal with this. Even if Cocolia no longer cares, as long as she does her job then it's fine. Having compassion behind an action doesn't matter as much as the action itself. If Cocolia's heart is no longer swayed, then he'll just have to care twice as hard to pick up the slack. He considers it part of his duty as a captain of the guard anyway. It's fine. Gepard can deal with it.

And then, Cocolia starts coming down to the restricted zone. Issuing direct orders.

And Gepard realizes he is in way over his head.

Because Cocolia orders him to stay back and issue commands from the ramparts, away from all his comrades, away from where he can protect them.

Gepard had thought nothing could be as bad as watching a fellow guard die right next to him. But the first time he watches someone struck by a killing blow, so far away, it hurts. Every defensive scar across his arms itches, his fingers curl in want of a weapon, the cold cannot numb his hands enough as they desperately ache for his shield. It hurts.

Gepard tries to find any reason to stay. Because surely... He knows Cocolia has lost her love for her people, but surely... She wouldn't...

One day, Cocolia orders for their gunners to advance 20 yards. There are no survivors. She almost looks like she smiles.

Gepard doesn't sleep that night.

Pela brings him the report at the end of the first month; and then the month after that, and the month after that. A significant uptick in losses, and all of it started on that first day Cocolia started overriding his authority and issuing her own orders. The ends of Gepard's pens have all been nearly chewed off. Pela outright calls Cocolia an idiot, and Gepard corrects her. Cocolia isn't an idiot. Gepard had known her through Serval, knew her through all her college years and then some, and he knows how intelligent she is. It's not that she's stupid, and it's not that she's inexperienced, it's nothing of the sort.

Cocolia knows exactly what she's doing.

She must, there's no way she could make such a horrible mess of things so badly by accident. And Pela, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, always too smart for her own good, catches onto the meaning behind Gepard's correction without any further prompting. The tent goes deathly quiet, nothing but the wind howling outside.

"...She's trying to kill us," Pela whispers, her voice swiftly suffocated by the silence.

Gepard swallows. He can't bring himself to correct her this time. There is nothing he could say that he would actually mean.

His gaze drops, back down to his desk and the reports on it. The names aren't listed, just the numbers, but Gepard knows them, knew them, and there must be something wrong, something he's missing, because why, why would she-? What could this possibly accomplish-?

“Gepard! Focus!” Something snaps right under his nose, and Gepard startles, eyes instantly honing in on Pela's irritated face as she leans over his desk. She holds his gaze for a moment before she huffs and begins to pace, wedges a knuckle between her teeth and bites like Gepard hasn't seen her do since cadet school.

Pela angrily strides from one end of his tent to the other, words hissed between her grit teeth. “What are we going to do?” In the dim lighting, Gepard can just barely see the damp spot of blood weeping under her gloves. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Wh- Yes, a plan! Unless you want more people to die!” Pela rounds on him then, all the wrath of a blizzard, winds roaring and snow sharp enough to cut.

“We don't even know-”

“What does it matter?! She killed-!!” Pela cuts off with a garbled noise when Gepard leaps up from his desk, hastily shoves his hand over her mouth. The prosthetic, not the flesh one, because he knows better than to assume Pela won't seize the opportunity to leave teeth marks in his skin.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; you're right. But you need to keep quiet.” Pela quirks an eyebrow at him and Gepard can read the question in her face. “Because we both saw what she did to Serval,” he hisses.

It's amazing the snow plains haven't thawed out yet, the amount of heat Pela can put behind a glare. The mere mention of Serval, and the smoking ruins Cocolia had made of her life and career, have her bristling up like a riled cat. The sudden hot breath she takes fans fog across his metal skin, and Gepard wisely keeps it in place until Pela finally sighs and reaches up, taps her fingertips against the back of his hand.

The second she's free, Pela bats him away and then her knuckle is right back between her teeth again, Gepard leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed to watch her resume her pacing. “If we spread the word, she'll have us discharged and make sure we can't even touch the frontlines,” Pela's voice seethes like an open sore. Gepard nods but keeps his silence. He knows better than to get in her way.

“And if you and I are both out of the picture, Belobog is fucked.” A little harsher than how he would have put it, but there's no denying that they're both important to the city's survival. Pela has the restricted zone running as efficiently as ever, and Gepard had become the youngest captain on record for a reason. “We need to keep this tight under wraps, at least for now… It can't leak to anyone higher up the chain.” Another nod. “Serval might know other discontents…” Another n-

Gepard's head snaps up. “No.”

“No what?”

“No. We're not involving Serval in this.”

Somehow, even the same tone that leaves entire squadrons shaking in their boots has never worked on her. “You're not deciding that for her, Gepard.”

Pela hadn't seen the worst of it, though, back when his sister had just been banned from the Architects. Serval's pride hadn't allowed it. Pela wasn't the one to find her passed out bottle still in hand, hadn't been the one to wash the sick out of her hair or carry her to bed. 

Serval still has trouble thinking clearly when it comes to Cocolia, still can't quite bring herself to be objective. And Gepard maybe doesn't want her to be purely objective- but he would worry a lot less if she thought twice before she acted more often.

“At least let me be the one to bring it up to her.”

“Whatever, fine,” Pela gestures affirmatively at him as she paces past, and Gepard sighs. Good, at least that's one thing he can help.

From there, it's a lot of hemming and hawing and frustration. Cocolia has them under her boot, and Gepard and Pela both know it. Even with the way she's been cracking down on freedoms lately, Cocolia is still, overall, liked by the people. It's unlikely anyone would believe them. They don't even have solid proof, because most people don't know Cocolia as well as they do and won't see the clues in the same light. 

The Fragmentum has been ramping up in recent years, too. Everyone is struggling just to survive as is, they can't afford a fight on two fronts. Gepard is a damn good captain, one of the best for that matter. But they're at a massive disadvantage, his experience is narrowed to fighting a defensive battle against monsters, that's all he's ever done. That's all anyone there has ever done. He has no way of finding first-hand knowledge for taking the offensive against a human opponent, and if he goes at this blind, there's no way he'll get everyone out unscathed. He's going to lose people. He's going to lose a lot of people.

He'd never thought before that Cocolia would have it in her to have someone killed. And with this new knowledge, he has no guarantee she won't go after Serval or Lynx if she decides to retaliate.

Gepard has to remind himself to breathe when he realizes this.

Pela writes down every name the two of them can come up with. Lists and lists of names and groups and anyone they can think of who might be an ally in all of this. They memorize every bit of it, make their plans of who to talk to and when. Gepard watches the sparks reflect off Pela's glasses as they burn the evidence together.

Pela finally leaves, far too late to make it home, but says she wants to stay in the restricted zone anyway to investigate. Gepard watches her make her way in the direction of Dunn's tent, watches her back until she's out of his sight and squashes down the urge to follow and keep an eye on her. His tent feels empty.

In the morning, Gepard is up before the wake up bells. He drags himself out of bed, leads his soldiers through their morning training. The same people gravitate to each other everyday. Friend groups and training partners. There's an ongoing rivalry between a few squadrons that everyone bets on. Some of them have lockets around their necks, keepsakes, mementos. Some of them wear wedding rings.

Gepard is suddenly, painfully aware of something acidic clawing at the inside of his throat, of a heavy weight low in his chest that blooms, takes up room until it threatens to spread his ribs. His mouth tastes of bile and blood.

He rearranges the schedules. Puts himself down for every open patrol into the Fragmentum, makes sure he'll be on the frontlines every single time Cocolia visits.

He only hopes that it's enough.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

IMAGINE. working at ur stupid uhhh job or whatever. pulling into your drive way and ready to work on some crazy project in your garage. opening the door to the most unfamiliar silence. did your wife and kid leave for something? could you imagine knocking on your kids door, hardly getting an answer, and opening it to find the splattered remains of your wife across his room your child is scared! hes hardly consolable, in a state of shock and terror. you are too, but youre the adult here. you need to take charge. you need to protect him. you need to do something. you need to do something.

[fucklestat]

this is literally one of the hottest scenes i’ve ever watched in my life

[cupoteahatter]

Biblically Accurate Weyler/Wyler is them putting each other in a Saw traps whenever they have a serious argument, Tyler with the full context of what he’s building for her and because he enjoys watching her work out the puzzles and Wednesday with like a dim awareness of what they’re referencing but is 100% doing it because it’s fun watching Tyler start swearing when he has to unlock another lock on the door of HIS room by picking it and she’s filled that sucker with chainsaws and 1500 dudlocks, he still hasn’t found the real one yet. It’s been three hours, he might actually die, he’s looking at her through the one way glass with big sad eyes but not begging…. Yet.