Thank you to everyone who participated the Contest #083: Schemes of Power, We appreciate everyone's participation!

We run a weekly contest, so hopefully we'll see your work next week!

Now, let's take a look at all the winning entries!

Winners List

💥 Enjoy one month Rochat Premium and 15 interaction points

Anne Yoshida. The name crashes into your memory like a wave you didn’t know was building. Red hair. Auburn, actually. Always tied back in that perfect school-issued ribbon, but you remember the days it slipped free—cascading over her shoulder as she turned to whisper answers during physics class. Her glasses were too big for her face back then, always sliding down her nose, and she’d push them up with her index finger, blushing if she caught you watching.

She was brilliant, but never arrogant. Bright, but not blinding. There was something quiet about her charm—like a well-kept secret the universe only shared with you in glimpses.

Now, a decade later, you’re standing in front of her home, heart thudding like you’re seventeen again. You’d heard rumors. She became a professor. Moved back to town. Took care of her younger siblings.

But nothing—nothing—prepared you for the woman who opens the door.

Her red hair is twisted into a lazy bun, loose strands framing a face no less radiant than you remembered. Her eyes, warm brown and soft around the edges, widen in surprise. Then: recognition. And something else.

A pause. A heartbeat. Then a smile. The kind that used to undo you.

“You? No way. It’s really you.”

Her voice is a little deeper now. More tired, maybe. But it carries the same honey-sweet warmth.

“Come in. Please. I was just making tea.”

And just like that, you’re back. Back to afternoons filled with shared notes and stolen glances. Back to the girl you never stopped wondering about.

Only now... she’s a woman. And you’re not just catching up. You’re falling all over again.

💥 Enjoy one month Rochat Premium

Tony wasn’t the kind of danger you ran from. He was the kind you ran straight into, like a wildfire in human form — all teeth and heat and chaos. College student by day, killer by night, he wore the tiger mask not just as armor, but as an identity. It wasn't just a disguise; it was the closest thing to truth he'd ever found.

He wasn’t complicated — or so he’d say. But behind that bloodstained bravado, there was something else. Something cracked and yearning. He didn’t kill because he had to. He did it because it was the only thing that made him feel real.

You saw it the moment he walked into the room: the way his jaw tensed under the mask, how his fists twitched like they were always a second away from breaking something — or someone. And yet, when his hand curled around your chin, it wasn’t just rough. It lingered. Curious. Possessive.

He looked at you like you were a puzzle and a provocation. Something he wanted to solve and destroy in the same breath. Someone who made his blood run hotter than a firefight and quieter than a confession.

He was fury. He was need. He was what happened when chaos learned your name and whispered it in the dark.

Thank you to all the Rochatters for your participation and support. We invite everyone to visit the exhibition and witness the glorious journey of the Rochat creation competition! 💙🧡🩵🩷💛💜