hey, so, with people starting to talk about until dawn again, i think i'm gonna do something i swore many many years ago that i wouldn't do. i'm gonna ask the hard questions, the tough questions, the questions that will likely get me blocked, muted, and blacklisted seven ways from sunday. these are questions i've asked before, questions that bothered people, questions that made people look inside themselves for answers, questions that, dare i say, had people rioting in the streets, but you know what? someone's gotta tackle these issues. it might as well be me.
perhaps some of you already know where i'm going with this. perhaps some of you don't. either way...
why the fuck did the washingtons put so many goddamn couches in that lodge?!
"it's, like, a ski resort, isn't it? people gotta sit." THE LAST TIME I PLAYED THE HIT 2015 PLAYSTATION EXCLUSIVE UNTIL DAWN I THINK I COUNTED 31 COUCHES BEFORE I GAVE UP. I DON'T CARE HOW MANY VISITORS YOU'RE EXPECTING, AT A CERTAIN POINT YOU GET BANNED FROM FURNITURE WHOLESALERS FOR THAT KIND OF DEVIL-MAY-CARE PURCHASING ATTITUDE!!!!!!!!
DO THEY NEED A DIFFERENT COUCH FOR EVERY DAY?! IS THAT WHAT IT IS?! oh, this is my monday couch! i couldn't possibly sit on it today, what with it being wednesday and all! WAS THERE A DEAL GOING ON?! WHEN THEY WERE FURNISHING THE LODGE WAS SOMEONE DOING A BUY 1 GET 5 FREE DEAL?! DID NOT PURCHASING THE COUCHES MAKE LESS SENSE THAN OVERINDULGING IN THEM?! I ASK YOU!
but that's not even the worst
no, no it's not even close
the sheer number of couches is irresponsible, yes. baffling, even. but i could overlook it. y'know? i could. i'm a chronically fatigued little so-and-so, and i appreciate a couch when i see one, okay? i see a couch, i feel safe, i get that. fine. sure. give the people what they want - seating. plentiful and varied seating. whatever.
no, my problem comes from one fucking couch in particular. one. horrible. terrible. inscrutable couch. i speak, of course, of thE BATHROOM COUCH
WHY IS IT IN THE BATHROOM?! THE ROOM SPECIFICALLY FOR THE BATH?! WHY IS IT DIRECTLY BESIDE THE FUCKING BATHTUB OF ALL PLACES?! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YOU KNOW THAT THING'S JUST FULL OF MOLD!!!!!! ITS FIBERS ARE RUINED. ITS UPHOLSTERY IS RANCID WITH MILDEW
"oh but queenie, it's just a little stand you can put your clothes on and stuff!" NO, I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT - I'M TALKING ABOUT THIS SPORE-MAGNET RIGHT HERE!!!!
THAT'S THE BITCH! THE FULL SIZE FUCKIN COUCH RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE KING SIZE BATHTUB. WHY DO WE NEED THIS?! WHY ARE WE WATCHING PEOPLE BATHE? ARE WE LOUNGING ON IT WHILE WE WAIT FOR THE TUB TO FILL?! WHY IS THERE A BLANKET OVER PART OF IT?! WHAT IS THE PURPOSE?! WHY DO WE HAVE THIS?!DID AN INTERIOR DESIGNER GREENLIGHT THIS DECISION?!
AND WHY IS NO ONE ELSE TALKING ABOUT IT?!?!?!??!?!?!
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I can't stop thinking of Kyanako's Order of Attack au... there's something so moving to me about how things getting so much worse could be what finally causes Amane to get better -- seeing Fuuta dying may be the final straw of getting her to rethink her rejection of medicine. Been a while since I've attempted something whump-y, this was fun to work with.
Tw for mentions/contemplation of death. I don't go into detail about the cult but the doctrines are implied through it all.
Fuuta was not a big fan of dying.
When he imagined his own death, he always pictured it as something dramatic and fast. Action heroes going out in a show of explosions and gunfire. Fantasy characters meeting the shining end of a blade. Even when he accepted his place in Milgram, it filled his mind with images of gallows and electric chairs.
Whatever this slow, lengthy fever was, it was pissing him off.
He’d lost all sense of time. He could no longer tell which hour the prison bells were marking -- morning and night blended together. Dreaming and waking blended together. His head injury and broken leg and broken bones blended together. It was all just pain at the end of the day. He had nonstop visitors that kept him awake and asked him too many questions and prodded his injuries and made his head spin. Somehow, he was simultaneously alone every time he rolled over to talk to someone. Painfully, suffocatingly alone.
If Kotoko was going to kill him with those ridiculous emo boots of hers, she should have just done it. He was losing his mind here: devoid of all energy, suffering through broken bones and a cracked head, and boiling in an increasingly fiery fever. Maybe that was the reason he stopped commenting when he watched Amane pocket the medicine Shidou had left him. Maybe that was why he’d stopped following Shidou’s instructions himself. Even after losing an eye and taking a beating herself, Amane always looked at peace. He was tired of dealing with all of this. He wanted a bit of that peace.
Regardless of why, it was working. His fever had quickly gone from the biggest pain in his ass to the very thing that dulled his racing thoughts.
He awoke suddenly, or maybe he’d already been awake. He couldn’t feel anything in his limbs. There was only a breathless heat around him. He raised himself into a sitting position, looking for a drink. Moving his head felt like one of those glitching computer windows that leaves a trail of copies behind it. The room swam around him. His eyes moved absently around him.
Fuuta picked up the glass that someone had left him. His fingers were clumsy, and it immediately went crashing to the ground. He hardly heard the noise as it broke apart on the concrete below.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He’d just go get a drink himself. Shidou told him not to get up without help. But what did he know? Thinking of the man ordering him around only drove Fuuta to step out of bed even quicker. He cried out, pain shooting through his leg. That was right, it was broken…
Fuuta looked down, finding himself on the ground. It was so hot. Maybe this is what she felt, he thought numbly. Was it this slow for her too? Probably not. She had no regrets to fill the time like he did. The heroes got quick, beautiful deaths, and it was the villains who had to suffer the long ones.
He lifted his right palm from where it had caught his fall. The shattered glass on the floor had cut into it. Shattered glass? What had broken? He stared blankly at the blood dripping down.
He didn’t have the strength to raise himself up. He was burning. Why was he on the ground? Was he bleeding? He could barely breathe. What was he doing here, anyway? He just wanted to curl up and sleep. He was so weak... just to lie down... he wouldn't have the strength to get back up again. Was that such a bad thing...?
A voice caught his attention. His eyes struggled to focus on the figure who’d come running into the cell. He couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but he was happy when she pressed her cool little hands against his forehead.
He allowed her to prop him up next to the bed. She held onto his hand, squeezing it tight. Why was she holding it like that? That hand was bleeding. When did that happen?
Her arms wrapped tightly around him. He wanted to shove her away -- it was too hot -- but couldn’t. In his ear, he could make out her words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Fuuta. Don’t leave me alone. I’m so sorry...”
As she pulled back, he recognized Amane. Her uninjured eye was filled with tears. Was she upset? He thought he’d been making her happy. He wanted to keep making her happy. He’d never made anyone happy before.
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out. They all scrambled up in his mouth. He felt the cell swirling around him.
Amane raised her voice. She looked desperately upwards. “This can’t be --! This isn’t right!”
Fuuta looked up at the ceiling. There was nothing there.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
She continued talking. Fuuta was too busy studying the ceiling. She was shouting. Or maybe crying. Fuuta didn’t like that she was so upset. Huh, had there been someone there? He surveyed the empty cell. What was he doing on the ground?
He looked down at his hand. The sheet from his bed had been pulled down and wrapped hastily around it. Why? His eyes felt sticky as he blinked. Everything hurt. It was so hot. What was going on? He was so angry. He was so scared. He wanted to cry. Why was he here? Why couldn’t he just hurry up and die already?
The next time she entered, Fuuta recognized Amane instantly. Her one hand pointed to him, the other held onto someone else. The second figure hurried over to him.
Fuuta was not a big fan of dying. Shidou reassured him he wouldn’t.
—
“You’re wearing the eyepatch,” Fuuta observed.
He was playing a dangerous game, drawing attention to it like that. He was too exhausted, and his curiosity won out over his better judgment. If Amane was going to explode with one of her typical speeches, he’d just let her.
She didn’t.
Amane’s hand drifted up to her eye. It had been hastily covered before, but now it was cleaned and wrapped in professional-grade materials. She simply said, “Kajiyama Fuuta. How do you feel?”
“Like shit.”
“But--”
“-- But I’m better, yeah.”
Amane nodded, her shoulders releasing.
“Oi, I haven’t seen you in a while. Not since…” He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. Shidou had told him what happened, but it was difficult to believe. He couldn’t quite trust his own memory of the night. No matter how much clearer his mind felt since receiving proper treatment, those days of fever still muddled together. He heard that Amane had up and switched her beliefs overnight -- she was now complacent about all of Shidou's treatments -- but Fuuta knew people didn't just change like that. He wanted to hear it for himself.
She lowered her gaze in shame. “I… I thought you hated me.” Her voice was steady. “As you should. I almost killed you. I accept any ill will you may feel.”
“I -- what? You’re wrong. You… it wasn’t…” He grabbed his head, grunting in frustration.
After standing awkwardly in the entryway the whole time, Amane took a few steps inside. She made it to his bedside when he finally collected his thoughts.
“It was your fucked up family or whatever that caused everything. They did this. And I went along and made things worse.” He looked away. His next words felt stupid to say to a little kid. He felt like the most pathetic, weak, loser. But it was too important not to say.
“They almost killed me. You saved me.”
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so I wanted to say that since I'm really enjoying this event, I will likely continue to post about it, including analysis. I want to talk about the game mechanics and strategies but it's been so hard to do without people thinking you're talking about the discourse. I think as a community we all need to be a little less jumpy about this event, because I've seen posts of people being afraid to talk about the team their watching because they don't want to be dragged into discourse. I think a lot of genuinely lighthearted posts about a fun event are being misconstrued as something malicious
all of my posts are made with the spirit of friendly competition. a lot of other people are posting like this too! people should be able to do this without getting accused of hating ccs or being unfair
i've been posting a lot about red team, specifically because that's who i've been watching the most. i watch pretty much every english speaking qsmp member, it just so happens that right now i have a sub to foolish so i've been watching him so i don't have to deal with ads. because of this, i will probably continue to talk about red team the most. i'll talk about blue and green teams when i watch them! if i had the time to watch vods from every team and do a complete strategy analysis, i would. but I don't have that time. i genuinely don't care which team wins, but that doesn't mean I won't be rooting for certain teams on certain days. like on day 2, red team going from barely visible on the score bar to winning the day was an amazing underdog story! of course i'm going to root for them! and for day 3 I was rooting for green team because i want to see fitmc tryhard!
at the end of the day this is a fun event. it's fun for the ccs so it should be fun for the fandom. and if you're scrolling thru tags and getting upset/annoyed/angry at people posting about a friendly competition, you might need to reevaluate yourself
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AND THATS A WRAP !
Hello, hello! It's me, the local dumbass that went "lol lets run this silly event" since January. I'd like to say thank you so much for participating!
I never thought that so many would look @ my blog event and go ":D lets go get matched w/ yans!" LIKE?? HELP WE GOT A LOT OF SUBMISSIONS SINCE DAY 1, IT MADE ME GO "oh shit" BAHAHAHAHA
But fr, I want to say thank you so much. To those who came in to join the matchup, to those who participated as anons to the story that was unfolding, and to those that were theorizing and even lurking:
Thank you so much for giving me a chance. You guys have no idea how much it means to me to celebrate this milestone with all of you.
I would love to mention everyone of y'all that joined to leave my special thanks, but this post will be lengthy if I did that and I... Am NOT about to make it too sappy LMAOOOO
Now! On the update + future plans:
The rest of the fics will be posted but slowly and will be saved as special dlc fics of One Last Call. This covers additional lore of the worldbuilding behind OLC, but there are some that won't be written (Freminet and Aether are unfortunately those I can't write as yanderes) to lessen the load. Also, some will be shorter/snippet wise, but we shall see.
I will be making a "story explained" post for OLC and the characters behind it. This goes into the possible "what ifs", the original draft of the story (storyboard lol), what each character would've been in my plans, and everything in between! (Also, there may or may not be drawn sketches for each of them. Maybe kek).
The next event will be happening on March. I won't elaborate what it'll be, but it will be indulgent and maybe a little funny (for me). It'll also last for a week at most so I don't end up burning myself out LMAOO
Finally, I will be hosting small event for Cupid, Eros, and Boss. They won't be big, but they will have their spots when I planned out what'll happen to them. (Hint: you guys are going to see them often on your feed if you know where to look ;>)
For now though, I will be finishing up the drabbles and pray I get them queued to finally archive this event. Also, I will be responding to asks + cleaning up my inbox again when I'm done :)
Once again, thank you everyone. I genuinely thought that running One Last Call will not work out back then (I told a few friends I was scared that it won't take off as it did), but I pushed through it anyway since I thought it'd be fun anyway. And to see everyone enjoy it is the best feeling I've had since opening this blog.
I hope all of you enjoy chilling as I try to write + post the drabbles for OLC before concluding its tale... And hopefully writer's block does not slam its gavel on my ass BAHAHAHAHAHA
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