#beta queen

[noodle-fandumb]

Beta Queentenna!!! Based on this post from Toby

They're my bugs haha

[lesbiantennas]

we're doing an art pile on queentenna server and i decided to go with my wife, Beta Queen. specifically the version from the AU me and my buddy ron are cooking teehee

the dead pixels on her skin are supposed to be like scars. idk how to explain this but this version of queen is self-aware she's a video character, but she also figured out how to edit code within the game and she uh. redesigned herself with her bare hands. but she's totally fine and normal, guys!

[xxvexatiousveexx]

Queening art rn

(Click for better quality 😭)

[l1zardart1stre]

deltaswap spamton<>queen designs based on their old designs

the Noelle isn't supposed to be a focal member of the peice, Its an old design I made that I'll use for deltaswap related peices as a size comparison the same way I use kris' sprite for it in non deltaswap peices

also, this isn't canon to Rudespawn probably

[cloudygirl1303]

I drew Queen and her Beta design as an Ena Oc :D

[angelicslate]

Full song cover i made of the unused Queen battle theme from the Undertale Newsletter!!!

i uploaded it on my yt yesterday but i was busy all day after so i couldnt post it anywhere else :PP

the art is made by my irl friend <33

[xxvexatiousveexx]

My take on Beta Queen design

Very Very heavily based off @ordeplacus Queen design

[feeding-geese]

Solitude

Day One of Seven Days of Stories for Starkist. (Illustration forthcoming!) When Peeta first started working the dinner shift at The Nut, Katniss wasn't happy about it. They ate dinner ridiculously early, leaving her hungry again by eight. The apartment wasn't big, but it felt enormous without his heavy steps (she swore their downstairs neighbors must be deaf!) and the warmth that two people brought to the space. She didn't want to admit it, but it was kind of scary, too, being alone in the apartment at night. She'd run her thumb up and down the screen of her phone, trying to figure out who to call. It was too late to phone Gale, who still fell asleep shortly after nightfall. The man who had become a father to her was always working. Delly would be out and about, or hanging off of Thom. If she tried calling her mentor, he'd most likely hang up on her. And Prim...well, she never ended up dialing any of them. The only person she somewhat knew in their building was Peeta's weird friend Thresh, and he worked nights. So she sat alone on the second hand couch and pretended she didn't notice every bump and creak. Around nine the people in the surrounding apartments started going out for the evening, making a ruckus in their wake. She had this irrational fear that one of them was going to knock on her door for sugar or crack or something and for the first week she alternated between turning every light on and cranking the volume up on the TV and cloaking the apartment in darkness, holing up in bed and keeping the bedroom flatscreen on low. No matter what approach she tried, as soon as she heard his key in the lock she was hovering over him like a bee, less anxious now that her safety net had returned. "Hey there, Clingy," he'd laugh at her. "Not that I mind the spider monkey act, but I smell like cumin and I think my leg's gonna give out." She'd sit on the edge of the sink while he showered, stuffing herself with whatever leftovers Brutus allowed the staff to bring home. Once he was home, she could relax. There was always a little guilt behind her affection, though, because even though she was happy enough to see him after his shift ended, what she really missed was another body in the place, letting her know she was protected. To be honest it really didn't matter whose body it was. One night he asked her about it. "I'm a jerk for not asking before, but you're okay with me taking the dinner shift, right?" "Of course," she answered truthfully. "Dinner shift's busier. More people means more money." More money meant that they could go to theme parks and movies and she could get the large popcorn AND nachos. More importantly, more money meant they could add to Prim's fund to help her get established. They both threw fifteen percent of each paycheck into an account for her little sister. It wasn't much right now, but the dinner shift helped. "And you're okay being in the apartment all by yourself at night." "Of course I am!" she lied with an insulted huff. "I'm not a child! I can be by myself!" "I only ask because I nearly killed myself on this." One look and the jig was up. One night she had to go to the bathroom and jerryrigged a tripwire out of a couple of shoelaces and some bells off of Buttercup's old collar so she could hear if anyone entered without her knowing. And Peeta was dangling the contraption in front of her face. "That's not being scared," she snapped, grabbing it from him. "It's being prepared." "Prepared for what?" he laughed, which was not the wisest response. "Killer gnomes?" "Worked on you, didn't it?" He sighed. "This is a decent building, Katniss. There's a buzzer at the front door and everything. There's no need to--what am I saying?!" His hands flew up in exasperation. "You teach people how to shoot things for a living! Of the two of us you should be the least afraid!" "I'm not AFRAID...per se..." Katniss suddenly found herself very interested in one of the knots she had tied in the shoelaces. If a crazy man with a sword burst through her door, she was fairly certain she could take him down if she could get to her bow in the bedroom closet. It was the creaks of the building and the shouts from the street and the hollow feeling of being completely alone. It was a difficult feeling to explain. In the end, she described it as a general uneasiness, which Peeta tried to solve with an extra lock on the door and a promise that she could call the restaurant and Seeder would put her through. They were nice for band-aid solutions. Ultimately, Katniss knew that she'd have to deal with her nerves by herself. Two months down the line, she couldn't believe how she had hated the solitude the dinner shift allowed her. After eating dinner with Peeta and sending him off to work, she would strip down and wash off the day slowly, letting the bathroom steam up and the hot water soothe her back muscles. Then she'd throw on her pajama pants and one of his shirts that she always swam in. She liked the way they hung off her little form, that she could pull her arms inside when they got cold and make herself a tent. Post shower, her evening could go a few ways. Some nights she buried herself into whatever book she was reading. Will had gotten her an electronic device to read books on and loaded it up with various titles from a wide range of genres, but Katniss found that she liked the tactile sensation of actual books. Instead she hunted down his selections in used book shops and used the device mostly to play solitaire. At present she was reading about reconstruction after the Civil War, pausing every few chapters when a question arose that the book didn't answer, like how people went to the bathroom. Even the Capital had had indoor plumbing! Some nights she used Peeta's laptop to search for music. With no one to catch her, she'd dance around the living room, one time bashing her shin into the coffee table and having to explain the origins of a nasty bruise later. If the song was particularly good, she'd look up the lyrics and spend hours learning the delicate turns of phrase and lilting harmonies. If she was in a particularly relaxed mood, she'd light a candle or two and lie on the couch with cucumber slices on her eyes, a trick that movies had taught her every woman knew. She liked Imogen Heap the best for this. The singer had an airy lilt to her voice that Katniss found infectious. Plus she had a weird name like she did. Some nights she'd practice MarioKart. Every night at around eight-thirty, Katniss declared to herself that it was second dinner. It was usually a sandwich or soup, something easy and light, because Peeta would still be bringing food home from work and whatever he carried in the little white plastic bag was always worlds better than what Katnis had poured from a can and heated. She'd take her miniature feast and settle in for a few hours of TV or a movie. Every night she'd accidentally drop some morsel on the floor for Buttercup. When Peeta was home, she'd groan when he slipped scraps to the ancient cat. But this was their little secret. He still didn't care for her, not when there were other options present, like a squishy blond or sleeping in a pile of dirty socks, but they had an understanding between them. After devouring her offering, the fat beast would pull himself up on the couch at the opposite end and, if he was feeling particularly benevolent, he would allow her to rest her bare feet against his soft fur. That is where Peeta found his roommates every night when he came home, tired but happy for the most part, one hand full of leftovers and a pocket full of shared tips. She didn't rush to greet him anymore, didn't hang over him or watch him shower. She stayed sprawled on the couch engrossed in her show and he was surprised to find that he actually preferred it that way. Katniss had made peace with her solitude, in fact she seemed to be revelling in it. He knew there was plenty of room in her heart for him, it made him happy that she'd carved out a place for herself as well. For the first time since they moved in, the place finally felt like their home. "What're you watching?" he asked when he had showered and changed and could relax. "Ghost Hunters," she bit into a macaron. "They're in this old orphanage. I'd worry less about the ghosts and more about the creepy dolls." "Really? you were watching this in the apartment all by yourself?" The quizzical look on her face made him smile. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"