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epsilonicronecronomicon · 3 days ago

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OC I'M ANSWERING FOR: Bitknock Bonesaw, Humblewood campaign setting

1. "I don't know how I got this/I don't know what this means." Every one of his little trinkets has a history; his life is encrypted in an unsolvable sequence of hollow clicking sounds. But he rarely lies for reasons other than safety... Some people would fear him, for what he's done. For whose feathery skin hangs from whose beaked skull he wears.

2. Not too freely. "Friend" is a label given only to people on the same moral level as him, who condemn the same people and love the same love. He does not want another chase, another "friend" to run away from like a convict, so a "friend" can only be someone who runs beside him... or someone who runs slower.

3. Most of the time, actually. He has no filter for them. If he truly wants to hide them, he will huddle in a tree alone with his giant wings obscuring his face, which could begin to wet the skin on his mask with tears. But apprehension, anger, joy? Those are even openly discussed. The only emotion he will hide is the effects of another's betrayal.

4. Play-fighting. He and the boys in his village would organize duels for the girls and younger fledglings to watch. He was always bigger, heavier, sharper— he could always win. But that wouldn't make much of a show, so he also picked up the skill of entertainment, specifically the art of being horrifying.

5. No, he cannot cry on command. He can, however, look sad like a fake-hurt puppy convincing its master to share her scraps. Usually with a similar endgame.

bro is a dog

6. He enjoys washing his own feathers with orange-pigmented rocks— a common habit in lammergeiers like him. He doubts anyone else would be interested. Sometimes he even finds a rock that makes it look like dried blood.

7. Most people he knows just call him "Bonesaw", which is a wonderfully badass thing to call out in a crowd. He has very good hearing; it always works. Some of his party members might someday refer to him as Bitknock; this would be a new and oddly pleasant experience for him.

8. He's never said it in his life, not even in knock-speak. All of his love is shown through his actions— his favors or his cries or his touch.

9. I would say gentle love, but in a very... confused and unrecognizable way. He's not totally sure how to show it or when to show it, so he will typically only show pure unbridled affection when it is shown to him first. Like if he is given a hug. As for recieving, he will never have a preference.

10. That the skull rings he knocks together to communicate and digs in the ground to mark his territory or sign a letter? They can play music too!! They sound like spooky skeletal castanets.

11. They'd ask him to play his music or use knock-speak. His specific style takes months, even years to learn, and a doppelganger only springing into existence that day might not know a single song or sentence.

12. He doesn't laugh at things he finds funny— the closest he might get to laughter is joyful squeaks whilst play-fighting. That's how you know he really likes a fight, or really likes you. He'll just be calling.

13. Bitknock doesn't smile. He doesn't fake it, either.

14. A sharp exhale is typically enough to do it. A small fire on the ground might be put out with a slam of his fist.

15. While in combat, he's twitchy and silent, showing no emotion and striking fear into the enemy. In a large group by the fire he's much more talkative. Alone, he's inquisitive or deep in thought, but silent nonetheless. Alone with someone else, he's either killing them or gently, kindly holding their hand.

16. People with a strong, unshakeable sense of morality. Or justice.

17. Most others first notice his unusual size for a Raptor, or his gigantic spiky wings, or his nightmarish, unreal disposition. In the mirror, he notices his eyes glowing under the mask.

18. Her name is Thimphina Muku La Kivi. She's a socially inept nomadic owl girl with a secret lurking under her humble tree-torn cloak. They know each other through their travels <3

19. Be silently angry, maybe grumble and literally push them back if they try to interact with him. No way is he dealing with this right now. If he's gonna talk about how he's feeling he's doing it when HE chooses to so fuck all that noise forever

20. He doesn't know anybody like that. Yet.

will add to this later

@wearethesensum IMPORTANT if you want Ambrose to make a good impression

WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS

What’s the lie your character says most often?

How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen?

What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’?

Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?

What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?

If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

When do they fake a smile? How often?

How do they put out a candle?

What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?

What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?

What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?

Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person?

What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it?

What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

What do they feel guilty for that the other person(s) doesn’t / don’t even remember?

Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?

What subject / topic do they know a lot about that’s completely useless to the direct plot?

How would they respond to being fired by a good boss?

What’s the worst gift they ever received? How did they respond?

What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?

When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional?

When do they feel the most guilt? How do they respond to it?

If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?

How do they greet someone they dislike / hate?

How do they greet someone they like / love?

What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

Who do they keep in their life for professional gain? Is it for malicious intent?

What’s a secret they haven’t told serious romantic partners and don’t plan to tell?

What hobby are they good at in private, but bad at in front of others? Why?

Would they rather be invited to an event to feel included or be excluded from an event if they were not genuinely wanted there?

How do they respond to a loose handshake? What goes through their head?

What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding?

What language would be easiest for them to learn? Why?

What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

Are they a listener or a talker? If they’re a listener, what makes them talk? If they’re a talker, what makes them listen?

Who have they forgotten about that remembers them very well?

Who would they say ‘yes’ to if invited to do something they abhorred / strongly didn’t want to do?

Would they eat something they find gross to be polite?

What belief / moral / personality trait do they stand by that you (mun) personally don’t agree with?

What’s a phrase they say a lot?

Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?

Who would / do they believe without question?

What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation?

What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

What’s a simple daily activity / motion that they mess up often?

How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?

#should i continue tagging you in this series also #bitknock bonesaw

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alchemistc · 2 days ago

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43. undone if it speaks to you <3

Getting back to these because I have a lot of fleeting half ideas I need to get rid of to focus on the Cap Buck series. This once again got longer than I meant it to so happy new year.

It takes Eddie about half an hour to realize Buck and Tommy are actually having a drawn out argument, right here in public, instead of just bickering the way he's so used to.

It's...strange.

The thing is he's always seen Tommy with a lid on it - he projects a certain image in a public, and a slightly less restrained image in private, and Eddie is absolutely certain the Tommy he knew six months ago would have rather eaten a live scorpion than air his shit out in such a public setting.

He supposes six months into their second at bat and Tommy's a little less concerned about laying a bunt.

It's subtle, is the thing. Eddie has had screaming matches with Buck in very public places before, he knows the usual script. Emotional land mine after emotional land mine exposed to whoever's in hearing distance, no holds barred, knock down, drag out shit. It's probably why it takes him so long to notice, because this is some fucking terrible amalgamation of Buck and Tommy at their worst and he is not a fan.

Hen goes to get another round with a raised brow in Eddie's direction that means she's definitely noticed too and will be taking her damn time getting back.

Chim's too busy staring all moony-eyed at a ready-to-pop Maddie absolutely killing her karaoke song to care when Tommy grimaces and rolls his jaw while Buck whispers something Eddie doesn't quite catch.

Eddie takes a drink. Then another.

He's down to the ice in his rocks glass.

"You aren't seriously trying to argue that projected stats have more weight than a full career, are you?" Tommy asks, and Eddie sort of wants to hit them both, because what? What? This whole thing started when a song reminded Buck that Tommy had once implied he didn't have enough gay experience to really love Tommy. Or. That was the gist, according to Buck. Famously not a reliable narrator in high emotion moments, but Tommy's never outright denied it, to Eddie's knowledge.

"I'm just saying, Gretzky's goal record is gone, so how can you say people with a decade of play left in them can't be in the conversation to surpass him? Statistically -."

Tommy's eyes glint. He looks mad.

When he stands from his seat, Buck throws both arms in the air. "Yeah, walk away," he spits, and Tommy, two steps towards the restroom already, spins on his heel with clenched fists.

Eddie has a sudden, clarifying memory of Buck reading off the statistics for couples who make it past the first six months. First year. First two, and five. Statistics for couples who took a break. Statistics for gay men, specifically, when he realized his sample size was skewed too straight.

Jesus Christ, he'd rattled those off to Tommy, too.

"I'm not subjecting Eddie to the shit I have to say to you right now, Evan," Tommy says, jaw clenched, hands digging into his pockets. He rocks back on his heels, tension fucking rolling off of him.

Buck stands too. Makes a sweeping gesture that seems to piss Tommy off more, and then they're both disappearing into the crowd.

Hen sets a new drink down in front of Eddie twenty seconds later.

"Thank you for leaving me to witness that by myself," Eddie manages, with a wry twist to his smile, and Hen grins back.

"Their foreplay sure has kicked it up a notch," she says, and Maddie crinkles her nose as she drops back into the booth beside Chim.

"If Jee hadn't been there they'd have screwed in my bathroom last week, I just know it."

Eddie shakes his head between them. "They - you guys know they were fighting, right?"

Maddie raises a brow at him like he's cute. Like a cute confused little puppy. Oh he hates that.

"Tommy deciding one of them dying was the only way they'd be free of each other has opened up a whole new world of ways for Buck to get his rocks off," Hen intones, like it's obvious. "This is just their flirty bickering turned up to eleven."

Eddie takes about twelve minutes to digest that - just long enough for Hen and Chim to get a duet in, long enough for him to drain another drink, long enough for Maddie to decide the baby's officially tapped out for the night, long enough for Chim to grab their jackets and toss a few bills on the table before he's herding his wife out the door.

Tommy rounds the corner and settles back into his seat looking decidedly more relaxed. There's at least one less button hooked on the flannel he's been wearing all night. It takes Eddie a second to register that his face is a little dewy, like he'd recently splashed water on it.

Hen makes a face a second before Eddie gets it.

"Oh come on, man."

Tommy's lips twist into a grin, and he yelps when Hen kicks out at him under the table. "Low hanging fruit, Kinard."

"I mean, one of us did," Tommy manages with a shrug, and only winces at the second kick.

Buck slides in next to him with a fresh beer for each of them and slaps a hand high on Tommy's thigh. Possessive. Still clearly a little riled.

"Yep, I'm out," Hen murmurs, and Eddie scrambles after her.

#bucktommy #bucktommy microfic #tommy has not had a public argument since he lived with his father #gimme tommy deciding bucks worth the fucking mortification of airing shit out in front of strangers #give me buck realizing tommys not gonna leave over a tiff and actually the make up sex is great so sometimes he picks a dight just to see #yes i am trying to curse ovi with the take that Gretzky's record gets broken this season #fight me about it

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flowersforthemachines · 2 days ago

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Some facts about Bellara (and also the Veil Jumpers, and other random Elven things) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Emmrich, Neve, Taash to be added tomorrow (or on Monday Jan 5th)

About Bellara

Family and past:

Bellara’s mother is a woodworker who sells furniture in Orlais, and her father is an herbalist. He taught her about deadly plants (for her own safety)

Bellara didn’t tell her parents about Cyrian’s (second) death

Bellara once broke both of her arms while racing an Aravel

Bellara learnt magic from her Keeper and later the Veil Jumpers, but she also studied a lot on her own by reading books and just trying things out

When she was little, Bellara wondered what it’s like to settle down instead of moving all the time (just like Davrin did)

General:

Bellara can better focus on writing when she has background noise (like Rook talking)

Bellara likes tea (but can also drink coffee after she pulls an all-nighter, which seems to happen pretty often)

Bellara liked Lucanis’s grilled fish

Bellara didn’t know any Qunari recipes before joining the Veilguard

Bellara wouldn’t want to be an assassin, but she would be interested in taking lessons from Crows about assassination techniques

Bellara thinks that most people in Tevinter are condescending, even the nice ones

Magic and life with the Veil Jumpers:

Bellara once found an artifact that was basically an ancient elven mechanical toothbrush

Bellara is a Veil Jumper because Arlathan is her home, and she can’t stand by and do nothing. Also, because of the artefacts

Part of the reason why Irelin and Bellara broke up is that Bellara became too consumed by studying/fixing artefacts

Bellara and Davrin agree that the Veil Jumpers’ odds are even worse than the Wardens’

Bellara thinks that the ancient Elven magic feels cold

Bellara didn’t find anything on the Devouring Storm in the libraries or Circles. Vorgoth and Myrna never heard of it either

Life at the Lighthouse:

Bellara owns a bronze candleholder shaped like a fennec

Bellara thinks that the Fade in the Lighthouse is almost too calm compared to Arlathan

Bellara likes her space in the Lighthouse and feels like “it's been waiting for her”

The Archive sometimes stares at people who come by

Bellara eventually suggests that she and Lucanis completely take over the cooking. Everybody except for Harding dreaded any meal not cooked by them anyway and gleefully agreed

Antoine let Bellara borrow his compound for flaming arrows to see how it reacts in the Fade (she doesn’t speak about the results, but she used at least one compound for testing without incidents and later wants to borrow more)

Relationships with companions:

Bellara offers Davrin to listen about his findings regarding the Gloom Howler as he searches for the missing griffons, saying she's a good listener

Bellara asks Neve if she can become a Shadow Dragon and is very excited when she hears “Yes”

However, when Emmrich offers her to join the Mourn Watch, she turns him down saying that the Veil Jumpers need her.

A writing inconsistency. Probably.

Neve once saw Bellara poking around Assan, trying to figure out if he was real or some clever mechanical contraption

Bellara wants to make pillows out of Assan’s molted feathers (but Davrin refuses because he finds it weird)

Bellara made dog biscuits for Assan (that Davrin accidentally ate the first time). The next time she brought a batch, she left them in a box labelled “Assan biscuits inside, do not eat.” Assan liked them!

Bellara once covered Assan in olive oil thinking it could improve his wind resistance and let him fly faster. Didn’t work.

Bellara offers Emmrich to co-author a paper about ancient elves after they find out elves came from spirits

Bellara asks Emmrich about vampires multiple times. According to him, when a Hunger Demon possesses a corpse, the resulting abomination can seek out blood, sort of resembling a vampire. They can't turn into bats though

According to Neve, some magisters in Minrathous have tried bonding with Hunger Demons which resulted in them having immense power but also a craving for blood

Bellara and Harding swap books for reading

Bellara gets into lifting using Harding's rocks

Bellara doesn’t think she needs to threaten Lucanis when she finds out he and Neve are dating because Neve could wipe the floor with him herself if she wanted (Lucanis agrees)

Bellara is fine with Lucanis taking on Ghilan’nain’s contract (“Whatever we were worshipping, it wasn’t her") and cheered him on at Weisshaupt

Bellara asks Neve to beta-read her story

(If Neve and Rook are in romance) Bellara thinks that solving cases together is romantic

(If Neve leaves after Rook chooses to save Treviso) Bellara kept notes of everything that happened while Neve was away to help her adjust after she’s back

About the Veil Jumpers:

Bellara mentioned that a certain elf camped in some ruins, and one day woke up stuck in the clouds. The Veil Jumpers haven’t figured out a way to get them down, so they just send them food and water

Veil Jumpers use some of the artefacts they have recovered as weapons. However, they don’t use them often, since most of them need to be charged after one use, and nobody really knows how to do that

Veil Jumpers eat whatever Arlathan Forest provides

Though Bellara also mentions she doesn’t forage in the forest anymore. Strife does, however, he always finds something edible

It’s hard to say how many Veil Jumpers are out there because people die/go missing/leave too often to keep a proper count

The Veil Jumpers once found an artefact that caused whoever activated it to get sucked into the Fade. One guy got trapped inside because he used it even if the others told him not to. Bellara is weirdly nonchalant about that whole thing

The Veil Jumpers once found something like an entrance to the Deep Roads on the Southern Edge of Arlathan Forest. The group that found it sealed themselves inside and destroyed the entrance, leaving a note telling the others not to enter. Davrin hypothesises it could be one of the pools similar to the one we saw in the Horrors of Hormak

Ritsivas from the Veil Jupmers is non-binary (mentioned by Harding in a conversation with Taash)

Misc:

The power crystals are called “June'suledin'bellanaris'ena'ghilan'lasa'shiral”. You may infer the reasons everybody just calls them 'power crystals'

Not all traps in Elven ruins were originally meant to be traps, but their magic is old, so it doesn’t recognise modern people and can backfire. And sometimes magic just degrades over time and accidentally rips the Veil, summoning demons

Andruil’s Gauntlet is an ancient site meant to test hunters who want to wield the mightiest weapons. It’s filled with traps, and no one has made through it in ages. It was made by Andruil’s priests to test the warriors of Elvhenan

Clans Nuvenis and Sabrae live in Ferelden. Harding’s village traded with the Sabrae in the past

#dragon age the veilguard #dragon age #veilguard spoilers #bellara lutare #davrin #neve gallus #lucanis dellamorte #lace harding #emmrich volkarin #davg #dragon age veilguard #flowers.txt #datv banters #reference #meta #references

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hauntingofhouses · 3 days ago

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Mizu smiling compilation

It's already 2025 but I'm still stuck thinking about Mizu. Specifically thinking about how Mizu does not smile very much throughout the series.

Most (like I'd say 90%) of adult Mizu's smiles are actually not from present day but from her Episode 5 flashback, which is of course unsurprising. This is during a time when she was comfortable being herself and letting her hair down. She was vulnerable, in love, and happy.

In present day though, most of her smiles are smirks she makes while showboating. She is arrogant, sarcastic, biting, intimidating.

"Do I duel the mystic Tengu themselves?"

"Maybe I've been following you. The famous Hachi with the famous gun."

"Your [Akemi] father probably lined up a nice, young replacement lord to marry."

"I see why he [Taigen] likes you [Akemi]. You're just like Taigen when we were children. A fucking brat."

But underneath her bitterness and bravado, Mizu has a soft heart. We see this side of Mizu most often when she's alone.

Like when she smiles proudly at her own achievements the same way she used to as a child.

She smiles while fondly sending a prayer for Master Eiji, whom she has given the affectionate nickname/title of Swordfather.

"Please protect Swordfather from time and harm."

She smiles at the sound of the drums during the Hadaka Matsuri. She secretly yearns for fun, and genuinely wanted to go to the festival.

"Huh. The drums. Maybe I'll just go look at the fun."

It's not only while alone that she smiles however.

She also smiles when Akemi compliments her eyes, taken aback for a moment and seemingly impressed by Akemi's ability to flatter her.

"Huh. I see."

Then right after, we get this dialogue:

MIZU: Your madam explained how it is some essential part of the soul that draws men to brothels, when it's only naked flattery. Do men usually fall for this? AKEMI: The ones I've known, yes.

And then Mizu smiles again:

There are a few ways you can interpret this. Maybe she's just smirking like "lmao those dudes are suckers," or maybe she herself feels flattered because Akemi could be alluding to how Mizu is not like other men, or maybe she's remembering that Taigen is one of the men Akemi has known, who, consequently, is one of those suckers to always fall for Akemi's flattery.

Oh, and speaking of Taigen. Funnily enough, Taigen is the leading cause of present-day Mizu's smiles.

First is when they first meet again in episode 1.

"You're from Kohama Village. […] You've climbed some heights... to be the prize of a miserable lot."

This is, of course, not a genuine smile, but one of those cocky smirks mentioned earlier that she often makes. But while we're here, I just find it notable to point out because, despite the fact that he was her childhood bully, she is not afraid of seeing him again. Instead her first reaction upon realising who she's facing is to insult him to his face while smirking at him! I just find this interesting because it really sheds light on how she views Taigen in the present day. She doesn't see herself as his helpless victim. She's proud to show off that she, too, has made it out of Kohama, and that, in fact, she's better than him.

She smiles at him again later, just before they start their proper duel in the snow. She unsheathes her sword (which is the first time for both Taigen and the audience), and Taigen is shocked as he says this:

"You have a sword made by Master Eiji."

And then we have this:

Another smirk, playful and confident. Because joke's on him; little does he know that Master Eiji is her adoptive father, and not only that, the sword was in fact made by her own hand, and not Eiji's. Taigen is ever the fool and she finds it amusing.

The next time she smiles at him it's actually a genuine smile. It's in Episode 3, right after they work together to fend off the archers. Both of them are giddy and sheepish and awkward as they compliment each other's skills. Mizu smiles and looks at him with the same sort of hesitant admiration he gives her:

"Your timing… You're deeply skilled. The broken blade fits well in your hand."

The next time she smiles because of him doesn't involve him directly. Instead it's during the conversation with Akemi we talked about earlier. Right before she drinks from the cup Akemi gives her, she decides to bring up Taigen. We know this is because Mizu already recognised Akemi as Taigen's fiance and wants to mess with her. So she purposely alludes to him, boasting about how she'd defeated him in battle and smiling as she remembers fighting him. This is again one of those showboaty smiles, directed at Akemi, whom she is trying to deceive, but it ends up tying back to Taigen. She's smiling because he's an idiot, practically laughing at him.

But we do see her smile genuinely because of Taigen again. Later in Episode 6, Mizu finds Taigen in the dungeon of Fowler's fortress and her first reaction upon realising it's him is to gasp, before getting a hallucination of Mikio and Mama which unnerves her. It's when Taigen says her name that she snaps back to reality. This is when she smiles, glad to see an ally and a familiar face during such a painful time.

TAIGEN: [weakly] Mizu? MIZU: [relieved] Taigen.

The next episode is the penultimate episode of the season, and it finds Mizu at her lowest point. In a typical three-act dramatic structure, Episode 7 is essentially the "All is Lost" and "Dark Night of the Soul" portion. Mizu lost her sword, she failed to defeat Fowler at his fortress, and all attempts at reforging her sword has failed. Yet, it's during this time that Taigen begins to treat her as more than a reluctant ally, but also as a friend. It's here when he makes her smile the most.

First is when he reluctantly compliments her fighting skills.

"You're good. Maybe... even better than me. And no one is better than me."

She chuckles and seems genuinely amused.

This isn't just a cocky smirk but also a heartfelt smile. She recognises he's trying to cheer her up in his own way, backhanded as it might be.

And then he challenges her to spar, only to pretend right after that that he doesn't have the energy for it. She drops her hammer while smiling. The thought of a friendly spar already made her happy.

Then, of course, right after that, he charges at her and they have their playful little wrestling bout. And Mizu is laughing the entire time! Despite being at such a low point, this is still the happiest we see present-day Mizu.

We then see her smile because of Taigen again in Episode 8, but it's not while talking to Taigen, but about him. She is talking to Akemi, and her last words aren't even about Akemi or Mizu herself, but about Taigen. She smiles while thinking of him, talking of him almost fondly:

"Stubborn enough, [Taigen] will find you. He believes he loves you very much. He's not a good man. He could be a great one."

And that's it! I couldn't compile every single screenshot of her smiling because of the Tumblr photo limit, but this is roughly most of them. My wishlist for future seasons is for more Mizu smiles because my poor babygirl deserves to be happy.

#blue eye samurai #mizu bes #taigen bes #akemi bes #meta dissertations.pdf #fandom.rtf #idk if i should tag for ships or not because you can interpret the character relationships as platonic #lmk tho if you want me to tag it for blacklist #shut up haydar

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mangodestroyer · 2 days ago

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Yes! Agree with all of this! Those of us who were resourceful BEFORE the advent of chat GPT don't fucking need it for shit!

Okay, okay. I have found ONE useful thing about AI. I struggle with programming due to a ND condition which, as my professor put it, makes it difficult to think linearly. I tend more toward lateral thinking, so writing programs in the correct order is HARD. So... it does make programming a thousand times easier! Idk if it's because I suck at programming, but searching for help online for this kind of thing is genuinely painful. I'm super impressed with how AI can show me the CORRECT methods for the questions I actually asked.

However, I only resorted to it once. I'd much rather learn the principles behind writing programs because that would be much more useful in the long run. I don't think AI will be able to help you if you're doing something much more advanced than an intro programming course and never learned the fundamentals. I mean... you need to write a somewhat competent program in the first place if you want to use it for error checking. And again: I was only error-checking a simple program. I know of skilled programmers who can figure out some LARGE fucking programs on their own in such short amounts of time! Without AI. So... I won't speak on whether or not some experts find it helpful. I'm not a computer science student. I'm majoring in something tech-related for an AS, alongside my non-tech BS. My AS does NOT get that complicated when it comes to programming.

And that's it! That's the only thing that has impressed me about AI. Otherwise, it's just copying and pasting info... often from the first few search results! Also, some people act impressed by the writing. Idk... every sample of AI writing I've seen comes off as telegraphed IMO. Maybe I just didn't see good samples. But then, I've always been good at writing essays. I don't need AI.

I think a lot of what pro-AI people are really wanting is stuff that already exists but they don't know it's out there like

can't format a work email? templates

don't know how to write a resume? templates

writing a thank you card or a condolences card or a wedding invitation? templates templates templates

not sure how to format your citations in MLA or whatever format? citationmachine.net

summary of something you're reading for school/work? cliffnotes.com

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 2 days ago

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Ludos Imperiales

Summary: A Princess!Reader x Gladiator!Bat Boys fic that's been swimming around in my head for weeks after watching Gladiator I and II

Content Warnings: Blood and Gore, Mentions of Torture, Slavery, and Assault

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“So good of you to finally join us, cousin.” The din of the crowd nearly drowns out the words, the feverish cheers echoing off the massive stone pillars that hold the auditorium seats up and away from the stench of death and decay that permeates from the mud soaked pit beneath the plush outdoor auditorium. There are rows of decadent booths along the pit's edge, each box set with plush chases and golden edged pillows. Slaves with palm fronds fan ornately dressed royals, their faces obscured by gold lined veils. The auditorium oozes wealth and luxury, offers decadent food and drink and deep enough betting pools to make the strictest penny pinchers among the elite crawl out of their caves to try their luck.

The altar for the Mother gleams golden in the afternoon sunlight, the carved statue standing with arms and feathered wings outstretched in welcome. Beckoning those to come and offer a bit of blood in hopes of trading it for some luck. Luck for the gamblers, of course, never the males, and sometimes females, who fight and die in the muddy pit far beneath the first row of booths. My father says they made the Games to punish our enemies, and to reward our soldiers, but both fight and die as equals all the same.

I frown first at the statue, how could our most beloved Goddess reward this kind of brutality? Then at my cousin, who I remember, is still waiting for me to speak. Dagdan sports his military regalia, the glittering medals across his chest all pinned there by my father for his service to our great empire. Service he never actually participated in. Dagdan can wield a sword because of the patience of his tutors, he’s never raised it in battle, despite the stories he tells at every possible turn.

“Father said the Games would be impressive this year,” I reply, trying to keep the bite out of my tone. Mother raised me to be demure, to keep my chin up, to never let an enemy see what I was feeling. She had been good at that, too good, perhaps that was why she had been publicly executed. For all her poise, she had not been able to outmatch my Father’s paranoia.

Beside him, Dagdan’s twin sister Brannagh grins, her pearly white teeth a harsh contrast to her otherwise impassive face. It’s like watching a shark try to grin. “The Uprising in the Courts made for a lot of candidates this year.”

My stomach turns. The Empire is vast, spreading across continents and oceans. The Courts in Prythian were the last of the fae to fall in line before Father turned his attention to the Human Lands. Each year, more and more slaves and captives are carted in through the iron gates far beneath the smooth stones we stand on, all tossed into the mud to fight each other for a slim possibility of survival. Some come willingly, chasing fortune and gold; some are sponsors of Father’s Inner Circle, their armor always pristine, their weapons always sharp. But most of the gladiators are slaves, crammed into dingy cells in the catacombs beneath the arena. Despite the decadence of the auditorium, one visit down into the bowels of this awful place was enough to scar me for life. As Father intended, I’m sure. Our esteemed Emperor had not been shy about his disdain for not being able to produce a son and his paranoia often convinced him that I would one day find a husband crafty enough to steal his Throne before he found a match he thought suitable, he often dragged me to these things to remind me the brutality he was capable of if I stepped out of line. No doubt it was why he’d insisted I come out today. I had not been out in public in some time, not after the grief of losing my mother had so thoroughly consumed me. My grief had shamed him; had made some in his Inner Circle suspect I was also plotting against him. My presence here was as much a check into my loyalties as it was to remind me of what fate could befall me if I kept on wallowing away in the dark.

I smooth my hands over my skirts, putting thoughts of my Mother aside. It always feels like a gaping wound in my chest, nerve and sinew exposed and open for every onlooker to see. I must reign it in. For the sake of my future.

“We’ll see a lot of Fae, then?” There were a lot of elves last year and shifters the year before that. There is no prejudice in the games. Race and gender matter little in a battle of survival.

The twins follow me as I find my way through the bustling crowd to our booth, where I know Father will already be waiting.

“Some humans for the first round,” Dagdan spits like he’s tasted something vile.

“Some half-breeds and mutts for the second,” Brannagh finishes with far more delight than her brother. Their eagerness from blood is one of the few reasons Father didn’t name their heir in my place. Brutality is necessary, but bloodlust turns a well rounded Empire on its head. Father placates them by giving them titles, parading them around like their important so they remain loyal, but he will never truly give them the power they seek. They’re simply not smart enough to see it.

“But the final round will be entertaining,” Dagdan says, gray eyes twinkling as the wall of guards at attention in Father’s booth part for us.

Our esteemed emperor sits on a throne made entirely of gold, a goblet of wine already in his hands. A circlet of gold leaf perches on top of his salt and pepper hair, the sharp edges reflecting the light along the crimson curtains that help keep out the summer heat. We all bow to him as we enter, and Father reaches out a hand for mine without ever looking at us.

“It is good to see you outside again, daughter,” he says, chapped lips brushing over my knuckles in a brief display of affection.

“I’m sorry it has been so long, Father,” I keep my voice even, unbothered. I will not let any of them see how much I hate all of this.

He guides me to sit on the couch beside the throne, where I have ample view of the uneven floor below. Yesterday’s rain has filled the giant pit with mud. Mud that could have easily been covered and smoothed out to make the playing field fair for all, but that is not how these Games work. Bones still litter the uneven ground, a rib cage protruding from a mound of dirt, a crumbling arrow still caught inside it. There’s the skull of an animal turned upside down, a stream of muddy water running out the eye sockets like some sort of twisted water fountain. Old weapons lay scattered around the arena floor; a wagon weaves around boulders and mounds of loose earth to scatter more.

“I trust you’re feeling better?” The question is pointed, for the sake of my cousins. He has been telling people the shock of my Mother’s supposed betrayal had been too much on my health and I’d been bed ridden. It’s not entirely far from the truth.

“Yes, Father. The sunlight does me good.” Not far from the truth either. It is nice to be away from the palace and all the chaos that comes with it.

Brannagh sits beside me, a slave scurrying behind her with a fan, a second not far behind with some wine. She stretches her long legs out in front of her with a sigh, the sunlight drifting through the curtains making her pale skin look translucent. “Do you have a favorite to win today, Uncle?”

My Father sips from his goblet, a bit of wine caught in his graying beard. “Just a favorite to lose,” he chuckles. Though he is getting older, the gleam in his slate gray eyes is still sharp and youthful. Even with his bouts of paranoia, his mind is still sharp and calculating.

“Do tell, before it’s too late for me to change my bets,” Dagdan quips. Though I doubt it is all in jest, my cousin is far more in debt than he realizes.

Horns blare from the upper rings of the arena, signalling those still milling about placing bets and finding food to get to their seats. The Games will start soon. My stomach twists itself into a new knot. There is no shortage of ways my Father will have found to torment the poor souls who find themselves in the pit today, I am not eager to see what they are.

“There was some… trouble in the mountain regions of the Courts,” he says carefully.

I force myself not to turn and look at him. Trouble for my father usually means rebellion, or outright war, anything else is too insignificant to mention. In my seclusion, I had not even caught wind of it.

“We have a few insurrectionists I’d like to see fall today.”

Few are foolish enough to raise a hand against the Empire. It usually means their provinces go without food and aid in the harsher months of the year. I am curious to see who would be foolish enough to risk the lives of their people.

“Those great wings of theirs would make an excellent trophy on my wall,” Father finishes.

A shiver runs down my spine. It would not be the first gruesome trophy of his, but still, the outright admittance to such cruelty still makes me tremble. My unease is only heightened by the arrival of my Father’s General, who enters the booth followed by a handful of male slaves, all barely dressed.

“Amarantha!” It is no secret that my Father has always wished I shared the temperament and constitution of his beloved General. If he had to be cursed with a female for an heir, he wanted ruthlessness, cunning, and a smile that could peel paint. All things the red headed fae oozed in abundance.

All things my Father was convinced I lacked. I’d take it. His disdain was better than being exactly like her. I can’t help the way my nose crinkles at the sight of her. Brannagh moves closer to the edge of the couch, in hopes of ending up in her line of vision, eager to swap stories before the Games officially start. Brannagh wants to be just like her, the gaggle of pleasure slaves included. The two of them would unleash hell on the world if my Father ever put the two of them together.

“Your Highness,” Amarantha bows, the loose fabric of her nearly sheer gown spilling to give my Father ample view of her cleavage. I stopped allowing myself to question the nature of their relationship long ago; my stomach turns thinking about it.

“It is a good day for betting, don’t you think?” She asks. Her voice is like gravel, fitting since its the color of her eyes. A finger bone dangles from her neck, an eye encased in glass sitting atop her finger; though she is lean, she is stronger and more deadly than most people assume at first glance. Everything about her is dangerously sharp.

“I was just telling Dagdan the same thing,” my Father says.

Those dark eyes flick briefly to my cousin, who puffs up his chest, but she ignores him entirely as her gaze settles on me. “Princess! I didn’t know you’d be joining us today. What a monumental occasion!”

“I thought the fresh air would do me some good,” I say simply. What else is there to say to Evil Incarnate? Perhaps I should put more energy into being clever, I know that if Amarantha saw a benefit to cleaving my head from my shoulders, she’d take it--power is all she cares about, so far we haven’t faced each other because she doesn’t think I have enough to steal--but I cannot summon the energy. Ever since the incident with my Mother, I have not managed to find much in me at all. Especially not for Amarantha and her social climbing.

“Nothing like a little blood sport to invigorate the mind,” she purrs as she lowers herself into the seat at my Father’s right hand. One of her slaves perches on the arm of her chair, bare chest glinting with oils in the harsh sunlight. Another sits at her feet, and her nails, sharpened to points, drift harshly through his thick curls.

I watch my cousin run her tongue over her lips at the sight.

“Did you place any bets, Princess?” Amarantha continues as someone brings her a goblet of wine. She sniffs suspiciously at it before instructing one of her slaves to test it first. Perhaps poison would be a mercy.

Never admit weakness. Never admit that my solitude has kept me out of the loop and left me ill prepared for whatever is about to happen in the Pit beneath us. Instead, I say, “We have several days of entertainment, I prefer to observe on the first day.”

To his credit, my Father does reach over and pat my shoulder in approval.

“Clever,” she says, but there’s enough bite in it to not make it a compliment.

“My money is on your Attor, as always, General,” Brannagh says with the eagerness of a child with a crush.

Amarantha huffs in annoyance, as if my cousin is a fly buzzing around her ear, “He’s too good, its almost boring at this point.”

Brannagh deflates, but before she can come up with something witty in response, the final warning horn blows from the rafters. The Games will begin.

I turn my attention away from my company, watching brightly dressed royals rush to their booths. There are all sorts of creatures here to watch: Elves and Fae and Fawn, a few Goblins and Giants, observing from a standing platform opposite us. There is room for most, save for humans, within the Empire, as long as they prove their usefulness. That is my Father’s crowning achievement, the Hybern Empire has room for all, if you play your cards right and never step out of line.

The groaning of the gates draws my attention away from the spectators and down into the Pit beneath us, where a whole cart of humans appears from the gloom of one of the entrances. They look small; mud and blood splattered as several Praetorian guards usher them out of the cart with spears bigger than most of their heads. The guards do not remove their shackles, leaving all twelve of them tethered together in the center of the Pit.

The cart rolls away, the guards with it, only once their out does another gate open to let out the challenger: Amarantha’s hulking Attor. The creature is battle scarred, lines criss-crossing over its leathery skin. Its giant wings flutter on the breeze behind it as it stalks into the center, Amarantha’s crest painted in blood red over its chest.

The crowd goes wild as it enters the pit, clawed hands swinging wildly around its hulking body. “ATTOR! ATTOR! ATTOR!” The monster has always been the crowd favorite.

Amarantha yawns. She’ll make thousands off the creature, but that is nothing to her. Money is trivial, unless it can buy her the power she craves.

I glance at my Father as the Games Maker starts addressing the crowd and explaining the match up. “Would it not be more entertaining to unchain them?” They’re all going to die anyway, surely this gives them a fighting chance to die with some honor. “We all know the Attor will win, why make it easy for it?”

Amarantha nearly spits out her wine, a gurgling sound coming out of her as she tries to maintain her composure.

I do not let myself grin at the victory.

Father runs a hand over his graying beard in thought. “Perhaps your solitude did you some good, Daughter.”

I do not shutter. I cannot save any of them, as pitiful and helpless as they look alongside the Attor. It will give them all gruesome deaths purely for the fun of it. But perhaps the Mother will take pity; may the chance to die fighting grant them peace in the afterlife.

Father stands and motions for the Game Maker to quiet. “Let the humans be unchained!”

The crowd erupts into varying shouts of surprise and approval.

“Let us test the skill of the Attor!”

This pleases the crowd, but it makes Amarantha’s cheeks flush crimson. She hides a grimace behind her wine as my Father returns to his seat.

A single guard returns with keys, and the crowd falls into a hushed silence, waiting for chaos to ensue. I force myself not to look away; to face what I have done. One of the humans cranes its head to look up at our box and flashes us his middle finger.

Dagdan bristles in his seat next to his sister. “He should pay for that!”

They will. There will be no rescue. There is none to be found. The Empire comes for all of us eventually, best that we can do is go into it with our heads up. I am trying to accept my fate in this, what other choice do I have, lest I end up dead or locked away.

Once the guard is clear, the horns once again blow, telling the Attor he can start his hunt. Those great wings at his back kick up loose dirt as he launches into the air with a roar that makes the arena tremble.

The crowd cheers, leaning forward in their seats to watch as the monster swoops down and gets its great jaws around the head of the first human. Brannagh giggles at the splatter of blood that erupts from the poor creature’s neck.

I clench my hands in my lap.

The second human tries to run, scrambling for purchase in the thick mud. It doesn’t help that they’re all barefoot. The Attor’s claws tear through the human’s back like butter, the poor thing going down with a wail that makes my heart lurch painfully in my chest.

The third manages to find a sword, the blade rusted from the rain; the man gets a good swipe in, nicking the inside of the Attor’s palm before it gets shredded to pieces.

Each human tries a little harder than the last, getting further each time. One manages to weave around the debris and avoid being swooped down on like the first, but the uneven terrain catches her ankle, sending her sprawling down with a shout as her leg is left twisted and broken. Another manages to get an arrow into the Attor’s back, but not deep enough to do damage. They all go down fighting, and each new one has me saying a mental prayer to the Mother on their behalf, but none survive. Much to the crowd’s glee.

“Wonderful!” Brannagh says, clapping as the Attor roars in victory.

Amarantha shrugs. “Boring.”

The Attor exits the Pit, ever the victor. The bodies it left aren’t even carted away. No one comes to pick up the pieces. No one will bury them. Their bones will rot and decay into the Pit floor.

I ask one of my Father’s servants for some wine to try and settle the nausea that rolls in my stomach, but even the smoothest of wine does not dull it.

My Father watches me carefully, calculating every move. I do my best to keep my features neutral.

“What did you think, Daughter?”

I take another sip of wine before speaking, giving myself time to collect my thoughts. “Humans don’t make very good gladiators.”

He laughs at that and my cousins join in, as if it was the funniest thing ever.

“Humans don’t make good anything,” Dagdan says.

“Except for a snack,” Brannagh adds.

“Worms,” Amarantha spits.

Father raises his cup in salute to me. “May the next match be more exciting for you.”

I ignore my revulsion and return the gesture. I cannot wait for this to be over. I shall retire back into my gloomy quarters with the curtains drawn and try to scrub the gory images from my brain. Perhaps my solitude would be more comforting than this.

The horns blow announcing the next match and the Games Maker drones on and on about where these next gladiators hail from. One side are all sponsored by royal families, all males trying to make a name for themselves and some coin to feed their families. They’re all well trained and well equipped for the task. They’re a filler spot, to give the rest of the Game Makers time to prepare the next victims of the Empire’s wrath. Beneath the Pit floor, in the dark of the catacombs, the next round of war captives are likely being hauled out of their cells and prepped. I can’t help but wonder if they can hear the roaring of the Bogges and Gladiator’s alike from down there. Do they understand what is about to happen? Are they saying their final prayers to the Mother?

I can’t help but glance at Her altar. What kind of world is this that we live in? Brutal and cruel and blood splattered. If we are so favored, how could our lives look like this? It is thoughts like these that have kept me sequestered in my room. I do not know what I am supposed to live for, or who I am supposed to be any more. My life feels like it is stretching out before me, and someone else is pulling on the strings, making me a puppet that moves at their will. I no longer have the protection of my Mother. Father will soon throw me to the wolves if I am not smart or careful or cunning. The world is different and dark and I have utterly lost my way.

I am so wrapped up in my thoughts I barely register the fight. One of the males gets eaten by the terrifying Bogge, his screams echoing off the great walls. The crowd eats it up, cheering and screaming and jumping from their seats. The more blood that flows the louder they yell and cheer. These are my people? These are who I am to rule one day? What does that make me?

Dagdan huffs about his losses as the gladiators exit the arena, the Bogge all dead. He drowns his sorrows in his cup as if the solution to his terrible gambling habit might lie in the bottom.

“Finally, now we can get to the part I’ve been waiting for!” Amarantha declares.

Father grins. “I take it they gave you trouble on the way here?”

She spits again, a nasty habit that doesn’t bother anybody but me, apparently. “Damned Illyrians! Had to use faebane on them the whole way, otherwise they tore through the damn chains!”

Father shakes his head. “I have to admit they surprised me-” certainly a feat few have ever accomplished in his lifetime “-usually their kind throw themselves on their swords before they get caught. Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

I’ll chalk that up to his paranoia talking, but I have to admit, I am intrigued by the conversation. Anyone who can surprise my Father must be very skilled. Despite my disdain for these Games, I find myself leaning forward to get a better look into the arena when I hear the grates open for the third time.

“What is there to be surprised about?” Amarantha counters, but her words feel farther away as I catch sight of movement from the dark tunnel behind the entrance of the arena. “They’re rebels, their deaths will make martyrs out of them. They want a public execution.”

The world feels as if it has narrowed into this moment. The din of the crowd starts to fade in and out of focus. I am suddenly very aware of the roaring of my heartbeat in my own ears.

The first male steps out of the tunnel, stripped to the waist, his bronze chest smattered with cuts and scrapes and bruises so dark they’re nearly black. Dark twisting tattoos trace their way up his broad chest and over his shoulders and back, until they meet great, leathery wings like that of a bat’s. Long, dark hair, matted with mud and what might be blood, clings to his face, but despite the disheveled state, his hazel eyes remain clear and bright.

The crowd boos when they see him. A few people hurl food at him.

“Cassian,” Amarantha scoffs. “The rebels call him their General.”

Father frowns. “As foolish as their militia was, do not forget how many of our soldiers he killed.”

I cannot take my eyes off him. He’s taller than the guard that leads him by his bound wrists into the Pit. Larger too. Those broad shoulders and defined abs speak volumes about how skilled in swordplay he must be.

“Will you keep his wings when he dies, Uncle?” Brannagh asks.

The wine threatens to come up at the thought of having to see such beautiful wings pinned to a wall in Father’s study. The male clearly cares for them. When the guard gets too close he flicks them out of reach. While there are some nicks in the leathery membrane, the wings are the least scarred part of him. He has to take good care of them for someone so battle hardened to keep them looking like that.

“Happily,” Father says.

Even if I wanted to look at him, I couldn’t, not as the second male enters the arena. He’s a little shorter than the first, his hair shorter, the dark onyx locks curling gently around his forehead. Blood still drips from an open gash across his temple, staining his cheek and neck crimson. Like the first, his chest is bare and marked with the same swirling tattoos, but unlike the first, his great wings hang limp behind him. One drags along the mud like a cape, the leathery membrane ripped open and bleeding, the other is twisted at an angle sharp enough to make me wince at the sight. The urge to run down to him is overwhelming. My hands drift down to the seat cushion and hold tight to keep myself still.

The crowd continues to boo and throw things as he tries to keep his head up and meet the other male in the center of the Pit.

“Azriel,” Father says to Amarantha, “ was quite a challenge for you, I hear?”

His beloved General frowns. “The shadow wielder managed to get a few good blows in, I’ll admit. But surprise only gets you so far.”

My eyes drift from his broken wings to his hands, covered entirely in scars, like someone burned him. The thought makes my chest heavy.

I don’t know what’s happening to me. I have never been so obviously shaken by the Games, not since the first time I’d come. Father had made me sit through weeks of slaughter, watching as gladiator after gladiator fell prey to a magic storm and a slew of magic beasts. Even then I had managed to hold it together until I’d made it home to vomit, but now I feel as if I cannot keep my body in its seat!

The magic that lives caged beneath my, usually, pristine facade cracks through, a bit of dark mist seeping out from between my fingers. I unfurl my fists and take my hands carefully into my lap, using a bit of my skirts to hide the errant flow of power. I’ve been neglecting my studies, have not given myself an outlet, this is a terrible time for a flare up! I try to focus on my breathing, the pounding of my heart isn’t helping. I need to remain calm. I need to remain in control.

A feat that feels utterly impossible as the third and final male exits the tunnel. Time comes to a grinding halt, every footfall against the Pit floor a drumming, haunting echo in my ears. I have utterly forgotten how to breathe; how to think. The male is by far the most beautiful male I’ve ever seen, violet eyes twinkling with a thousand glittering stars. He sports the same tattoos as the others, the same bronze skin and battle hardened muscle, but it is the expression on his face that gets me. He is as battered and bloody as the second male, cheek split open, a slash mark clean down the middle of his chest; most of his body is a bruise, but he doesn’t wince at all. He keeps his chin high, high enough to look Father right in the eyes with every step he takes into the Pit. There’s a clear challenge there, unhindered by the chains around his neck and wrists. Those gorsian stone chains don’t often make an appearance, unless the person attached to them is exceptionally skilled with magic.

“Rhysand,” this time Amarantha’s voice is an excited purr and the power trying to escape through my fingers slips faster from my palms. I dig my nails so tight into my palms they bleed.

“I do admit, it’s a shame you have to kill him,” she continues. “He’d make such a pretty addition to my collection.”

It is all I can do to not turn and hurl a blast of dark, obsidian power at her. I keep my gaze on the Pit instead, as the final rebel joins the others in the center. Its only once he’s there that something clicks into place in my mind. If Amarantha still speaks I can’t hear her. Time freezes again, the only signal of its passing the pounding of my heart in my ears.

They’re my mates!

And I’m about to watch them die.

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #Cassian x reader #azriel x reader #poly!bat boys x reader #gladiator!bat boys #gladiator!rhys #gladiator!cassian #gladiator!azriel #acotar fic #acotar au #bat boys smut (eventually)#my writing #my fic

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enbyfvcker · 13 hours ago

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[Unsettling silence]

Wade Wilson x Logan(worst!wolverine)

Word count: 0.7k

Summary/prompt: Wade is insecure and quiet after coming back home, and Logan notices, concerned about the unusual quietness.

Tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff, insecure Wade Wilson.

Something's off.

Oh, something is definitely wrong.

Wade's home, and it's quiet. Fucking silent.

Not a joke could be heard, neither humming, whistling, or singing, or anything. Nothing.

Logan's a quiet person himself, but honestly, over the past months, he grew used to Wade never shutting the fuck up.

So yeah, he knows something's off when Wade barely uttered a word today after coming back from the market in the morning.

He was sitting on the couch, watching some random cheesy reality show with the captions on and hugging a cushion, wearing a hello kitty themed shirt, boxers with hearts printed on them and his mask.

He doesn't usually wear his mask inside the apartment.

"Hey, bub." Logan speaks, sitting next to the merc that doesn't take his eyes away from the TV.

"Hi, peanut." His tone seemed normal enough... Distant, though.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?" He finally looks at Logan. The whites of the mask pointed at him.

"You're quiet today..."

"So? Aren't you happy?"

"Why are you wearing your mask?"

"Cause I'm Deadpool. Duh-doy."

"Sure, but usually at home, you're just Wade."

"..."

"Is everything really okay?"

"Yeah! And if it weren't, then I probably wouldn't know how to talk about it since you probably wouldn't understand and probably think I'm dumb. So yes, I'm great. Perfect. Really jolly, thank you."

Logan's definitely not great with words, but he cares about Wade. So he makes an effort.

"I can listen... I won't think you're dumb. I mean, not more than I normally do." He tries to joke, but Wade doesn't laugh. "Talk to me."

"That's a new one."

"Wade..."

"Is no big deal. Really. I was just grocery shopping, and people looked at me weird. Nothing new. Kids looked traumatized, old ladies terrified... You know, the usual. Heard some fun comments. Had a real great time." Wade sighs, looking back at the TV, but he didn't really seem to focus now.

Logan felt his heart ache at the sadness clear in the merc's tone, so uncharacteristic of him.

"I'm sorry, W-"

"No. It's fine. It's nothing. I'm used to it. 'Been living with this ugly old mug for years, it's not like any comment or insult can be news to me or whatever. It's not like they're wrong to feel repulsed, anyway."

"You're not repulsive."

Wade just chuckles, even though there's no real amusement in his voice. "Right."

"I'm serious, Wade. You think I just fuck with anyone?"

"Yeah...? Not to call you a whore or anything, but-"

"I don't. And I don't think you're ugly." He gets closer, hand slowly creeping behind Wade's head. Wade quickly holds Logan's arm strongly, hesitantly, but then he sees the genuine look in his eyes and let go.

Slowly, Logan removed the mask and placed it on the couch, holding Wade's face with both hands and looking at him deeply.

"Those people don't know you. They don't know the kind, great, funny, loyal guy you are. I know you, bub. And I love you. Every part, even the ones that annoy the shit out of me."

Wade's eyes fill with water, and he looks at Logan like a sad puppy.

"Got it?" Logan asks firmly, and Wade just nods, feeling a knot in his throat. "Good." Logan leans and kisses Wade's lips softly, the merc melting completely. They pull away, and Logan can see Wade fighting some tears.

"You really mean it? You don't think I'm ugly?"

"No, I don't."

"Can you put me in your pocket and never let me go? Back pocket is preferable." Wade whines, burying his face in Logan's neck, who just chuckles.

"Don't think I can, bub."

"You can! We can steal Antman's suit and shrink me or something. Want you to take care of me..."

"What if I just make us a bath and hold you?"

"...That'd be nice..."

"Great." He kisses Wade's neck.

"Are you being romantic? You are! Didn't know you had it in you, peanut. I love it, don't stop."

"What do you mean? I can be romantic." Logan retorts, sounding a bit offended.

"Can you buy rose petals and make a path for me to the bathub?"

"What, do you want a honeymoon?"

"Yes!"

Logan laughs. "I can carry you." He offers.

Wade's eyes shine.

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease-"

Logan rolls his eyes and scoops Wade up, standing and holding him bridal style. Wade wraps his arms around Logan's neck eagerly.

"Oh. Did I just die? I'm in heaven. Wolvie heaven. Gosh, your arms-"

"Come on, let's go." He carries Wade to the bathroom.

#poolverine #deadclaws #deadpool and wolverine #wade x logan #fanfic #logan howlett #wade wilson #fluff #deadpool 3 #fic rec

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czolgusszy · 1 day ago

Text

the way i think of it is this:

if some behavior is considered normal, and we have reason to believe a given individual practicing that behavior was never exposed to criticism of that normal behavior, then we can reserve judgement. i think it is an unreasonable expectation to expect every human being to individually strike out against their own culture and society-- it is praiseworthy when it is done, but i cannot offer blame to those who do not.

i cannot blame them individually because what is considered normal and good in our society and culture is deeply influential on what we internally consider normal and good. societal expectation is a tough yoke to shirk.

and further i chose not to blame them as individuals when they may not have known any better, because i hope future generations will grant the same mercy to me, for whatever it is that we consider normal and good that they will understand as reproachable, evil, or cruel.

HOWEVER. in cases like slavery in the US, i absolutely blame slave holders. there were generations of discourse on the morality of slavery by the time we got to the civil war, and for generations we see slaveholders hearing and responding to that discourse, bending over backwards to rationalize this behavior. so perhaps it was, by some people considered good and by others considered normal. but there were very vocal people who made arguments against the practice of slavery, and who made them widely available and very reasonable. they had the wisdom and the coursge to speak out against what they had been expected by society to consider good and normal, and they shared this realization, and slave holders rejected it. i don't blame them for not coming up with the idea on their own, but i do blame them for refusing to hear.

this isn't the only instance of such discourse on a moral question being widely available in a society but it's one in recent historical memory that serves as an excellent example of where i draw my line.

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sucodelaranja86 · 4 hours ago

Text

- hyun-ju cho relationship headcanons (pre/post game) : ★

featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader

warnings: mentions of very faint transphobia.

A/N: Requests are open. :))

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

➤ For starters, she confirmed herself that she is not a timid person. And you can see for yourself that she isn't afraid of expressing her opinions or taking leadership.

But that doesn't mean she isn't insecure.

It's hard to find people who embraced their true identity, specially in the place you two live. So it's not hard for her to feel like she is sticking out negatively in the crowd. And of course, people around you don't make things better.

So not going into too many details, she would enjoy PDA a lot more if she didn't make you two stick out so much. She is not embarrassed to show affection to you, quite the contrary. As i mentioned before, she is not a shy person by no means. She just feels a afraid of making a fuss.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't shower you with affection inside closed doors!

Independent of your size and height, you are going to be the big spoon. Yes, she is the double of your size, and yes, you are going to caress her head while she sits on your lap. It's not like you are complaining.

She feels like she can be her true self around you, and that true self is a clingy woman who demands affection everytime your hands are unoccupied.

Even through messages, she is still the same person you know. And you are not afraid to admit she messages and comments like a facebook mom. She didn't understand what you meant when you bursted out laughing while admitting that, but it would never not be funny to you.

"love, are you coming home rn?"

"Yes, my dear, 💕 i am on my way. 😊 I am currently at the subway, and i couldn't help but admire some of the breath-taking flowers a certain seller is promoting. 💐🌷🌻 Should i get a combination of flowers for our apartment, or should i save for something else? 🤔 Message me what you think! ☺️😚🤩"

You never get the heart to explain to her why is it so funny. The proper grammar, the exaggerated quantity of emojis, alongside a sticker that is the definition of a grandma's humor won't ever not make you giggle.

And don't even get me started on the 'funny' videos she sends you.

They are either military humor/jokes that you would need at least 2 years of researching for you to understand, or those videos that would be funny 6 months ago and you would sometimes catch your mom giggling to it. Sometimes you had to remind her you were not a first class sergeant like she was, and that always lead to her explaining for 15 minutes about the joke. So after some time you decided to simply laugh, even if you didn't get it.

You once tried looking through her main page on the only social media she used, and the only things you found were mainly housewife tutorial videos, military documentary clips, occasionally some millennial funny videos, and even more occasionally trans pride related ones. It was like a single mother, a teenager who just came out and a 47 married man were sharing the same social media.

And speaking about moms- she is the biggest one ever. You got a simple cold? She is already making you soup while wrapping you up the warmest blanket you two own. Had a problem with someone? When they see her, they are surely not going to mess with you anymore.

Overall: you don't know if you bagged a girlfriend or a single mom.

⌢ ⌣ ⌢ ⌣

#cho hyun-ju x reader #hyun ju x reader #player 120 #cho hyunju #cho hyun ju x reader

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eliza-and-her-monsters · 2 days ago

Note

begging anyone for Vi x reader x Ellie

ANYTHING.

PUH LUH EASE

WUH LUH WUH

i’ve got you bestie you just might wanna have that therapist on speed dial, okay? soz… 🫣

death doesn’t discriminate

Vi x reader x Ellie

Summary: you were never jackson’s best fighter, you never had to be. you were of course taught the basics of self defense, and if you ever were being attacked and it was between you or them it had to be you… every single time. you just never expected to ever have to put those skills to use… unfortunately though whenever patrol goes awry and you encountered a group of bandits you had to, making your very first kill. obviously after the event you’re left traumatized, and its up to your girlfriends to pull you from the aftermath.

Contains/TW: takes place in the tlou-verse with arcane crossover characters because obviously, innocent and super sheltered reader, i’ve seen the discourse but i AM making it to where ellie CAN pick the reader up (because fuck you that’s why! 💜), told in 1st person, polyamory, set in jackson post-joel death HOWEVER obviously ellie didn’t decide to hunt down ms. girl again. mentions of murder, blood, and just gore in general and HEAVY implications of suicidal ideation. ((this is not meant to romanticize suicide in any way, i’m writing from my own personal experiences. if you or someone you know is struggling please get help. you are loved 💜)) Heavily based off of the song listed below including its lyrics that are obviously not my own creation but def wish they were 💔

WC: 2.2k

You think at some point you would grow used to death, it was always leering. Either a subtle shadow hanging by the back door or growing to overtake the whole compound. In some cases it was merciful, swiftly ending your pain through broken pleas or just pure exhaustion. But in other cases, and the ones I found to be most common, it was known to be rather violent.

I was surprised I even remembered what to do whenever the time came. A dreaded audition it felt like as I slowly trailed Ellie’s gaze to the switchblade in my back pocket, the cold press of a gun against my temple. I don’t think I even processed what had happened until I was backing away, staring at the dead body before me and the still warm blood now coating my hands. My breathing came out in startled gasps, shrieking in traumatized fear the moment I felt her arms wrapping around me from behind.

“It’s me, baby, it’s just me.” She whispered, taking me into her soothing arms even though I tried like hell to fight her off at first leaving streaks of blood in the shape of my hands against her shirt. She only held my trembling body to her chest as I tried to hold back the sobs.

‘You made one kill. Everyone here has at least made one kill. It shouldn’t affect you this much. You’ve lived your whole life letting other people do the dirty work for you, you should be able to make one kill. One measly little kill of a man who would’ve killed you had you not acted so fast.’ I guess I was the only one left who didn’t think the world was that black and white though.

I felt catatonic as we made our way back to Jackson, Ellie’s arms holding most of my weight. I half wanted her to leave me there, leave me there to bleed and be ravaged by whatever found me first. She never would though, even if it did mean she’d have less deadweight.

Vi never was a fan of the two of us going out on patrol without her. She always considered herself our guard dog, even over Ellie who could no doubt hold her own at this point. Many nights we still spent dozing off against her while she whispered to us that we were ‘her girls.’

“Vi, emergency.” I heard Ellie speak, my head a dull weight against her chest as she carried me through the front door.

“This is the last time the two of you go on patrol without me, I mean it this time, Els.” I heard her seething as her heavy boots nearly shook the whole house. “Is she hurt? Are you hurt? What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine but she… she had to-” Ellie held the words back, not wanting to speak them in front of me as I felt my body being placed on one of the old ratty recliners. Dead eyes staring forward, like every ounce of light had been winked out a long time ago.

Vi’s own soft blue eyes drifted downwards to the dry blood coating my still shaking hands, the quickest moment of understanding filling her expression. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” She murmured, the sentiment enough to bring forth a cascade of tears that I had been holding back until we were safely concealed in the walls again. “You did good though, doll, I need you to know that. You did amazing. Remember what we said, if it’s them or you it has to be you every single damn time.”

I sniffled through the ugly sobs with a shake of my head, I disagreed though I suppose I would always disagree. “She should’ve left me out there.” I finally spoke again after I had what felt like the inability to.

Quickly and without hesitation I could feel Ellie’s hand wrapping around my chin, gentle but firm as she turned my head to face her. “No, you aren’t allowed to say things like that.”

“Why not?” I shook my hand, eyes stinging and burning with tears as I watched her kneel in front of me with what looked like a wet washcloth.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” She didn’t answer me, carefully dabbing at my bloodied hands to wash all of the evidence away. Even though part of me wanted it to stay, tattoo the remnants of blood on my hands until I remembered who I was.

“Tell me why you shouldn’t have left me.” My voice shook as I repeated the question. Push until they finally said the truth. Push until they finally agreed to throw me to the wolves. Push and push and push… “I’ve been nothing but deadweight since I got here.”

“No.” Vi almost growled next, wrapping her own larger hand around my chin this time while I only stared back in defiance. “You are not deadweight, you are valuable and needed and- and we need you alive! I need you alive!”

“Darling, you don’t have to be a fighter to be important.” Ellie spoke next, much gentler than Vi had but still stern nonetheless.

It was hard to find a purpose to live in the apocalypse, I wasn’t sure where everyone found one. I knew Ellie had always had some terrible sense of self importance with the immunity. I guess over the years she had tried her hardest to transfer that to me. Some days it worked. Some days were good, amazing even. Gentle and soft days where I could dream about a world before the infection. A world I’m not sure I or Ellie ever remembered. Some days though, days like today, being reminded of that thought really changed things.

Vi had always been an ‘alive out of spite’ kind of person. Then one day Ellie and I rolled up into Jackson and turned her world upside down and shifted things for the better… that’s how she would tell it at least. She was slightly older, tougher, rough around the edges, but deep down I think she was secretly just lonely. She took us underneath her wing just as quickly as we arrived, all too happy to open her doors for us and things grew and built from there. But no amount of love or care I was given from the two was enough to cover up the fact, if I went outside of the walls something disastrous always managed to happen.

I was just simply deadweight. A bad luck charm if you will. These things never ended well.

“Baby, you’ve just had a bad day.” Vi shook her head as she took my own into her calloused hands. “That’s all it is, my love. We’re in the times of survival now, it’s kill or be killed and… I’m not losing either of you.”

I choked on another pathetic sob, hating myself more and more for every single one. Nevertheless though Vi pulled me into her, muffling the sounds of my cries into her shirt. Traumatized and shaking cries that I rarely actually allowed myself the luxury of, so whenever they came, they came all at once.

I fell asleep early that night. Vi running Ellie and I a bath to wash all of the dirt and grime from the disasterous patrol from our bodies. At some point I lost the strength to cry, but I felt like I had lost the strength to do most things. At some point over my sleeping body I had heard Ellie whispering to Vi though, to hide all of the guns, knives, switchblades, anything that could ever be used as a weapon. A mental patient in the middle of the apocalypse. Oh the irony.

“You think she would actually do something to herself?” Vi whispered in her hushed tone while Ellie gnawed anxiously at her already chipped nails.

“Yeah, I do.” She answered with a shuddering breath. “This is worse than Seattle and I- I already thought I was gonna lose her then- Vi, I’m not taking anymore chances.”

“Hey, listen, we’ll take care of her, okay? We’ve got her. We always do.”

“I hope so.” I could hear the rustling of clothes, no doubt an embrace she probably needed. An embrace they probably both needed. And I hated that I was the one who brought them there.

A moment passed and I had nearly managed to doze off again somehow in in the midst of it all just before I could feel the bed slightly dipping behind me. “Just me, you’re safe.” Ellie warned, waiting on my already exhausted muscles to relax before she slid her arms around me from behind. “I need to talk to you, okay?” She whispered against the back of my neck, my heavy eyelids fluttering open for a brief moment. “It’s okay, you can close your eyes. And you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to just… just listen, okay?”

Her fingers gently stroked soothing lines along with arms, the sensation only making my eyelids want to droop even further. “I’ve always had a- a really strong urge to protect you, Vi and I both have. A-And I think you know that. So if you wouldn’t have killed that man I wouldn’t have hesitated. He doomed himself. The moment he laid a goddamn finger on you he doomed himself. And Vi would’ve done the same thing and I think you know that too. Hell, he wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to if Vi was there.” Her fingers slid through my own, a soft yet possessive grasp.

“I know you think I gave up looking for Abby because you were reckless a-and you got hurt and you ruined things. And you were reckless, and you did get hurt but… you didn’t ruin things. You- You just changed things, for the better.” Her lips brushed against my neck, an innocent gesture though had me tilting my head to grant her more access all the same. “You saved me, baby.” She muttered, burrowing her face right into the crook of my neck as she pulled my back in closer to her chest. “I- I could’ve spent my whole life hunting that girl down, because- T-Tommy did ask me to, you know?” Her voice cracked, the feeling of small tears dripping onto my skin, a very simple way to get them to spring up into my own eyes all over again. Just whenever I thought I had been all cried out.

“You- You actually told him no?” My bottom lip quivered as I slowly twisted around to face her, just to feel her own calloused hand against my face. “But I thought you- you promised-“

“It’s not going to bring him back, love.” She shook her head, glancing downwards as if in mild shame. “But whenever you went after me in Seattle and- you got hurt…” she brushed her fingers along the jagged scar slashed into my arm that she was more or less cradling. “I know you were knocked out and you don’t remember a lot of it but… i-it really scared the fuck out of me, y-you know? Like I could lose you. I-I could really honestly lose you and… nothing is worth that, baby. Not a single thing is worth that.”

Tears swam in my eyes as she pressed her lips to the wet streaks that stained them. “You’re an angel, my love. An angel on this absolute fucked up planet and I-I pity every single person that doesn’t get to know you like Vi and I do, you know?” She briefly disconnected her hand from my face to brush away her own tears only to let it snake through my hair as she tugged me back into her chest. “You’re innocent, and you’re kind and you didn’t let any of this take it away and- I hope you never do, honestly.” I felt her chest sinking as she took in a heavy breath and held me to her almost for dear life. Like she was afraid I’d slip away the moment I let go. “No amount of self-sought fury will bring that back… I’ve tried. S-So please, I know it’s hard to find a purpose in this life but… please baby, please stay with me. With us.”

I curled up to her side, resting a heavy head right against where I could feel her heart thumping so softly. The other side of the bed dipped and while I might have flashed back to that moment briefly Ellie’s arms wrapped around me so protectively were enough to pull me back down to earth. At least for a moment.

“My girls.” Vi’s voice followed next, her arm nearly long enough to stretch over the both of us as she brought us close to her with ease. I felt my back pressing against her muscular chest as she settled down next to us, taking her usual trusty spot closest to the door as always.

It was hard to promise survival during the end of the world, even safe within the walls of a community. But for that night I at least promised I wouldn’t do it on my own accord. Someday, somewhere, something would kill me, but it wouldn’t be at my own hand.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.

Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

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mattsobvimyfav · 3 days ago

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roommates (matthew sturniolo)

the final.

It had been four years since that chaotic, heartbreaking day. Four years since Charlie and I had stormed out of the dorms, and left behind Matt, Chris, and Nick and that entire chapter of our lives.

In the years that followed, the little fame we had garnered from appearing in the triplets’ videos became a stepping stone for something much bigger. Charlie and I threw ourselves into creating content, documenting everything from our college experiences to our spontaneous adventures, and even sharing vulnerable moments about personal growth and moving on.

The hard work paid off. Our YouTube channel blew up, amassing millions of subscribers. On TikTok, we were even bigger, By the time we graduated college three months ago, we had become well-known influencers in our own right, working with major brands and having multiple other influencers collabing with us.

But through all of that, there had been one rule we both followed without question: we didn’t speak about the triplets. Ever.

At first, fans flooded our comments asking about them. There were edits of Matt and me, of Charlie and Chris. Some even romanticized our fallout. But over time, the questions faded as our own content overshadowed the past. For over a year, there hadn’t been a single mention of them on our platforms.

In those four years, I rebuilt myself. I learned to let go of the hurt, piece by piece. And now, I was happy. I even had a boyfriend, Leonard, who I’d been dating for eight months. He wasn’t flashy or overly romantic, but he was dependable, and kind. He grounded me in a way I didn’t think anyone could after Matt.

Today, Leonard had helped us load our bags into my car before kissing me goodbye. Charlie and I were heading to the airport, about to embark on a new chapter of our lives in Los Angeles. We’d been offered incredible opportunities to work with major brands, collaborate with influencers, and expand our content. We’d also decided to live together, finding comfort in the bond that had carried us through so much.

As The uber drove us to the airport, Charlie was buzzing with excitement, scrolling through Pinterest for decor ideas. “What do you think about a gallery wall in the living room?” she asked, turning the phone to show me.

I smiled, glancing at her briefly. “I love it. Just don’t let me handle the measurements this time. Remember the disaster with the string lights?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe you used duct tape.”

We pulled into the airport parking lot, and for a moment, the reality of what we were doing hit me. This wasn’t just a trip. This was the start of something huge, a completely new life.

As we grabbed our bags and made our way to the terminal, Charlie grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Can you believe we’re doing this?”

I looked at her, my best friend who had been through everything with me, and nodded. “I can’t believe we made it here.”

Four years ago, I thought I’d lost everything. But now, as we boarded the plane to Los Angeles, I realized I hadn’t lost anything that truly mattered. Charlie and I had built something incredible out of the ashes, and this was just the beginning.

A week into our trip to LA, Charlie and I stood outside a beautiful two-story blue house on a quiet, tree-lined street. The kind of street where you could hear birds in the morning. It wasn’t overly fancy, but it had charm, and as soon as we saw it, we knew. This was the one.

The house had a wrap-around porch with white railing, The blue siding gleamed under the California sun, and there were flower boxes under the windows, some with blooming plants that added pops of color. It was perfect.

“I can already see it,” Charlie said, her eyes sparkling as she stood on the porch. “Us sitting out here, sipping coffee in the mornings. You editing videos, me thinking of video ideas… This is it.”

I smiled, looking up at the house, trying to picture what our lives would look like here. It was hard to believe how far we’d come. From two broken heart eighteen year old girls to traveling across the country to start fresh, this felt like the reward for every hard decision we’d made.

Inside, the house was just as inviting. Hardwood floors, big windows that let in so much light it felt like you were outside, and a kitchen with just enough character to feel homey without being outdated. There were two bedrooms upstairs—one for each of us—and a small extra room we immediately decided would be our “creative space.”

As the real estate agent handed us the paperwork to sign, Charlie nudged me with her elbow. “You sure about this?”

I nodded, a grin spreading across my face. “This is ours.”

By the time we walked out with the keys, the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. Charlie unlocked the door, pushing it open dramatically and yelling, “Welcome home, baby!”

We laughed, running inside like kids, already talking about where we’d put our furniture and how we’d decorate for Halloween.

That night, as we sat on the floor eating takeout in our empty living room, it hit me. This wasn’t just a house; it was a new beginning. A place for us to grow, dream, and finally let go of the pieces of the past we’d been holding onto.

“This is gonna be good,” Charlie said, raising her smirnoff bottle in a toast.

“To us,” I replied, clinking mine against hers.

As Charlie and I sat cross-legged on the living room floor, laughing over our plans for the house, a sudden knock at the door startled us. We both froze, exchanging wide-eyed glances.

“Who could it be?” Charlie whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Maybe the real estate agent forgot something?” I suggested, though my stomach churned with unease.

We stood up, the mood shifting instantly from lighthearted to tense. Slowly, I made my way to the door, Charlie right behind me. My hand hesitated on the knob for just a second before I turned it and pulled the door open.

My heart stopped.

Standing on the other side of the door, looking older but all too familiar, were Matt, Chris, and Nick.

Matt’s eyes met mine first, his expression dropped, Chris looked like he was trying to form words but couldn’t, and Nick mouth was hanging open.

“Y/N”-

a/n- THANK YOU ALL SOOO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT ON THIS SERIES I LOVE YOU ALL🩷 ITS BEEN A FUN RIDE

tag-

@ch0llies @namelesssav @christmastreecake @mattsturnii @larnieboox88 @izzylovesmatt @tbfaptbfae @2muchofaslvt @sturnioloshottiekay @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @realuvrrr @sophia-77n @christophersstar @mattscore

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #roommates

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bj-freeplay · 3 days ago

Photo

Also! Let’s be clear! Folks HATE our insurance here. Which- like- the world is now aware of considering recent events. It’s not like Americans enjoy the system or are entirely complacent about it. It’s just been so engrained into our society over the decades ppl don’t know *what* to do here.

Universal health care is scary to folks partially bc they’re misinformed over the value of our drugs and medical procedures for sure; but a lot of ppl don’t like the idea of long wait times that come with systems like the NHS over in England. Many folks I’ve talked to over the years are incredibly thankful for how specialized their care can be with privatized health care and think the idea of Universal will remove their ability to have options. It’s a very “all or nothing” conversation over here, which is not a likely way we would go about transitioning. It’s hard to communicate that Universal Health care will not remove privatized health care here. And having that divide will not have earth shattering taxes for those who rely on it even if you don’t.

It’s not dissimilar to how our university tuition problem has become what it is either. We’re a very individualist nation, and it’s not uncommon to hear the argument of “I had to earn my life so so should you” when speaking about abusive structures of power. This mindset has been confidently verbalized inside Congress as an argument against lower tuition rates and cancelling student debt. So how do you argue for the best interests of the general population against folks who think like that? They’re aware it’d be a net positive, but think there’s some arbitrary way it has to be earned by an individual with no empathy toward difference in life circumstances.

Insurance stealing our lives is a big part of our culture struggle here. Health care is just one massive aspect of that, but it’s not the only one abusing its power. When it’s so normal in so many aspects of your life it’s easy to become blind to the fact that these systems that are robbing you blind, not actually providing a service that’s goal is to actually help you, are not some inevitable option.

A lot of us also have a mistrust to the ways in which our taxes are used too. Which Really doesn’t help. Government funding for our education is placed in horrifying locations that honestly feel like blatant abuses of powers. Such as transporting a single portable building in my district would have cost 10 million dollars. Just to move it down the street for a different local school, less than a mile away. Why? Bc the board refuses to use any other transportation company than one, blatantly monopolizing the market and allowing them to up charge to what I would consider an illegal degree. All while teachers are making dirt off the exact same tax dollar being allocated through the department of education. Ppl don’t trust our government funding that comes through our tax dollars, sometimes for very good reason. So when you’re trying to argue that it CAN actually help people sometimes it feels like a herculean undertaking.

All this mistrust, corruption, and misinformation make for a very bad cocktail. And the cocktail you’re trying to convince them to drink looks remarkably similar in ways it’s hard to avoid.

Blogging this tweet because this explains SO MUCH about the mindset of pretty much all the folks I’ve known who’re against single-payer, it’s not even funny…

#health care #cost of health care #american healthcare #american politics #social justice #education #insurance

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keep-wonwooing · 2 days ago

Text

— Two Boyfriends

synopsis ᝰ.ᐟ

⤷ ˗ˏˋ "I want two boyfriends so i can dress them up like twins!" ˎˊ˗

pairing ᝰ.ᐟ

⤷ idol!seongcheol x chubby fem reader x idol!mingyu

warnings ᝰ.ᐟ

⤷ poly, fluff, & physical touch (can't think of anything)

"Kim Mingyu, get back here!" My yell echoed through the house. My boyfriend of one years and 3 months, Kim Mingyu, who’s also an idol, had taken my PC holder that featured an official photo of Joshua—my bias.

"No! This is supposed to be me, not Joshua hyung!" he whined, hiding behind the couch.

He always whines like this, but normally, he’s fine with it. I don’t know what got into him today.

"Come on, baba, give it back, please?" I pouted, already feeling tired from chasing him around the apartment.

Shaking his head, he bolted upstairs, disappearing from my sight. I sighed and flopped onto the couch.

"I’m home!" I heard the door open, revealing my other boyfriend, Seventeen’s leader, Choi Seungcheol.

"Baby… Mingyu took it again!" I whined, rolling dramatically on the couch.

"Hi there, love," he greeted me warmly, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

Amazing, right? I have both of them as my boyfriends. It all started when I met them at an offline fan meeting.

flashback

⤷ I’m currently on my way to Seventeen’s offline fan meeting, and I’m super excited because this is my first time attending and seeing them up close.

While waiting for the guards to let us in, I’m double-checking all the bags containing the gifts I prepared for the boys.

Finally, the doors opened, and the Carats and I began lining up to keep everything organized. I noticed most of the fans were with their friends, while I stood alone. I’m not great at making friends with strangers, so I stayed quiet.

As I was checking my bags again, I suddenly heard squeals, and then Seventeen started appearing one by one.

I couldn’t help but smile as I saw them waving at us. As a fan finally seeing them up close, I enthusiastically waved back. I caught Hoshi looking at me, and he waved directly at me—I’m sure he noticed the tiger-themed t-shirt I was wearing.

"Say the name!" Seungcheol began, his voice loud and confident.

"Seventeen! Hello, we are Seventeen!" the members chorused, bowing after their greeting.

A staff member handed Seungcheol a microphone so he could speak.

"Good afternoon, Carats! We really appreciate all the effort you made to attend this offline fan meeting, and we hope you’ll enjoy your time with us. Thank you!" he said, looking around the crowd while waving.

Oh my gosh, he’s so handsome in real life! I fanned myself, trying to calm down my blushing face. Who wouldn’t be flustered with these guys standing on stage, looking absolutely fine?

The members finally took their seats, and the staff began assisting some Carats onto the stage. While the first fan interacted with Seungkwan, the other members started engaging with the rest of us in the audience.

"How are you guys feeling today? Isn’t it a little cold?" Dino asked, earning mixed answers of “yes” and “no,” which made him chuckle.

"Yah! I saw a lot of Carats wearing tiger shirts today. Where did you guys buy those?" Hoshi asked, looking amazed.

"Shein!" I answered. I felt embarrassed when I realized I was the only one who replied, while the others just laughed, finding Hoshi adorable.

"Oh?! Really?! How much is it? I’m willing to buy it!" he excitedly said, making the other members laugh.

My number was 21, but they were still on number 4, so it was going to take a while for my turn. We were given five minutes to talk to each member, which I felt was enough time to enjoy the moment.

Am I being delusional, or is Mingyu really looking at me? I waved at him with a smile, not expecting anything, but when he waved back, my cheeks burned, and I quickly broke eye contact.

After an hour, it was finally my turn. I had just finished talking to Seungkwan, Dino, The8, and Jun.

"Thank you so much for this!" Jun said, pointing at the cat plushie with his name on the collar.

"You’re welcome! Bye-bye!" I giggled, waving at him before finally moving on to Hoshi, who had been eyeing my shirt.

"Hey there!" he greeted me, starting to sign my album.

"So earlier, you asked us Carats where we bought our clothes, and I was the one who said Shein," I began, hoping to make the conversation more personal.

"Yes, yes! I really wanted to know where to buy more shirts, especially with that kind of design!" he said with a surprised expression.

"You don’t have to buy anything, though, because I bought you two tiger-themed shirts. I was nervous you might not like them, but I still wanted to give them to you," I said quickly, handing him a bag decorated with a cute tiger cartoon.

"I will definitely keep this bag!" he exclaimed, examining the bag before opening it. The Carats behind us gasped softly, admiring the gesture.

"It’s pretty, Hoshi-yah!" a Carat called out, and he proudly stood up to show it off.

We laughed, and he sat back down, thanking me nonstop. "I guess you’ll want more? I’ll tell you the shop then," I teased, giggling.

The next person was Joshua—my ultimate bias since the first day I started stanning Seventeen. He had always caught my attention.

"Hello, you’re really pretty," Joshua said softly, smiling as he began signing my album.

"You’re even prettier!" I replied, making us both giggle. I handed him a bag with a cinnamon roll plushie and a simple necklace featuring their group picture.

"Woah~ So I really do look like Cinnamon Roll, huh?" he joked, making me laugh and nod.

"Really! You’re both so cute," I replied.

"Oh my gosh, how much is this? I really love it!" he said, admiring the necklace.

While Joshua and I were talking, I felt someone staring at me. I glanced over and saw Seungcheol, who had just finished speaking to another Carat, looking in my direction.

"Thank you so much, really!" Joshua said, before the staff guided me to the next member.

"Hi there," Seungcheol greeted me with a warm, handsome smile.

I was stunned and stuttered when I greeted him back. "H-hello!" I nervously replied, making him laugh.

"How’s it going? Are you having fun?" he asked while signing my album.

"I’m really enjoying it so far! This is also my first time attending an event like this," I said, smiling.

"Woah, really? I’m happy you were able to attend this one," he said sincerely, looking at me with kind eyes.

He slowly held my hand, and I blushed so hard. I had held hands with the other members too, but Seungcheol had this special effect on me. Maybe it’s because he’s one of my bias wreckers.

"Here’s my gift for you!" I said, handing him a cherry hairclip along with one for his dog, Kkuma. "This one’s for you, and this is for Kkuma. I hope she’ll like it."

"She will, I’m sure!" he replied, examining the clips with a warm smile. "Can you put it on for me?" he asked, pointing at his hair.

I nodded quickly, my hands trembling as I clipped it onto his hair. "You look even more handsome with it," I said, smiling shyly.

"Really? I’m glad then," he said, smiling back and gently holding my hands again.

"I hope you guys aren’t too tired with your schedules and are getting enough rest," I sighed and pouted. "I was really worried when I kept seeing articles about you guys being sick."

He patted my head warmly. "Thank you, but don’t worry too much, okay? We’re doing fine right now."

After my conversation with Seungcheol and the other members, Mingyu was the last one I met before stepping off the stage.

"Hi, pretty~" he greeted me with a charming smile, glancing at me briefly before signing my album.

"I have a gift for you," I said, handing him a bag. "It’s a shirt you can use for working out or just as daily wear."

"So, your name is Y/N?" he asked, and I nodded immediately.

"You have a pretty name—just like you," he said, making me blush.

"I... uh... thank you," I stammered.

"I’ll definitely wear this! You’ll see it on my Instagram or in a random Going Seventeen video," he chuckled, holding up the shirt.

"Are you going to the Follow tour concert?" he asked me.

"Yes, I hope so. I’m nervous I won’t be able to get a ticket," I pouted.

"Don’t worry—you’ll get one. And I’ll make sure to find you!" he exclaimed.

"Really? I was planning to get a VIP ticket so I could jump properly to Aju Nice," I joked, making him laugh.

"Time’s up!" the staff announced. I smiled at the staff before bidding goodbye to Mingyu.

---

A few months later, tickets for the Follow tour in Seoul went on sale. I was sweating in my room, juggling three devices, anxiously waiting for my turn. On my laptop, my queue number was 961. I almost cried—I had a real chance to attend!

---

The day of the Follow tour concert arrived, and it was time for the soundcheck. I was so lucky to have a spot near the barricade.

They were performing Don Quixote, and I saw Seungcheol walking toward our side. He stopped for a moment, then ran over to Mingyu, dragging him back to our section and pointing at us.

The Carats behind me cheered loudly as Mingyu smiled widely and waved at me.

---

A few hours later, the concert started with Super. Everyone was screaming their lungs out and singing along. The concert went smoothly, with a few interactions between me and the members—especially Mingyu, who kept coming to our side of the stage.

At one point, he even took my phone, ran around the stage, and recorded videos. I was shocked—who wouldn’t be? My bias had just taken my phone to snap a bunch of selcas with the other members!

During Aju Nice, the members ran freely across the stage. Mingyu handed my phone back to a security guard, pointing at me to make sure I got it.

I thanked both the guard and Mingyu as he walked away, my heart full of gratitude and excitement.

The concert had ended, and I was waiting to leave the venue when a staff member tapped my shoulder. “Excuse me, please follow me.”

I looked around nervously, hoping no one noticed. Luckily, most Carats were too busy chatting to see the guard opening the barricade for me.

I followed her, confused. “Why do you need me? Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m Seungcheol’s manager. He asked me to find you,” she replied, leading me to a door marked Seventeen.

The door opened, and I saw Dino. “Oh! You’re the one who gave me the otter plushie! I brought it today—want to see?” he said excitedly before running off to fetch it.

He remembers me? I thought, stunned.

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right? The one who gave me the necklace with our group picture inside?” Joshua approached me, holding a water bottle.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, smiling shyly.

He smiled back warmly and gestured for me to enter. Inside, a few staff members were tidying up while the members relaxed.

“Here it is!” Dino returned, proudly showing off the otter plushie.

“And it’s wearing the Dino shirt!” I exclaimed, giggling.

“Ah, you’re here!” Mingyu appeared beside me, flashing his signature grin.

“Well, yes. But why am I here? Shouldn’t you guys be resting?” I asked, puzzled.

He nodded. “We are, but…” Before finishing, he gently took my arm and guided me to the side where Seungcheol was seated, watching us.

“Are you our noona?” Mingyu asked suddenly.

“I’m a ’96 liner, and I share the same birthday as Jun,” I replied with a laugh.

“Really?!” Jun chimed in from across the room, making everyone laugh.

Seungcheol spoke up. “The members and I really appreciated all the gifts you gave us. Some of us are using them, and others are keeping them safe.”

“I’m just glad you liked them,” I replied, still feeling a bit nervous being this close to them.

“Here,” Mingyu handed me a blanket to cover my legs since I was wearing a short skirt.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

Seungcheol continued, “So, we were thinking of inviting you to dinner—if you’re okay with it. No pressure!” He raised his hands reassuringly.

“Oh? I’m fine with it. But is it really okay? I mean, it’s a group dinner, and—”

“Noona, please?” Dino interrupted, giving me puppy eyes.

“It’ll be fun!” Jeonghan added, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

I laughed. “Well, if it’s okay with you guys, then sure. I’ll go.”

The room erupted in cheers, and the members quickly changed so we could leave for dinner early.

---

Dinner

We ended up at a restaurant enjoying pork belly. While the others drank lightly, I stuck to soda since I wasn’t great with alcohol.

I sat between Dino and Jeonghan, playing the famous hongsam game.

“Wow, I’ve only ever watched this in videos, but playing it with you guys is so much fun!” I said, laughing until my stomach hurt.

“Noona got it wrong!” Dino yelled triumphantly.

“Eh? I did?” I asked, confused.

He eagerly explained why, and everyone laughed, telling me to drink my soda as a penalty. I agreed, and we continued playing.

After dinner, Seungcheol paid the bill.

“Seungcheol must be rich!” I teased, making him roll his eyes.

“Aye, don’t be humble!” I added, and the others burst out laughing.

When they offered to drop me off, I initially refused but eventually gave in. I ended up on their bus, heading home.

“Thank you for today,” I said sincerely.

“You’re welcome. The boys really wanted to be friends with you, especially after the fan meeting—Dino in particular,” Jeonghan teased.

“Can we have your number, noona?” Mingyu asked, blushing as the others teased him.

I laughed. “Is it okay?” I asked Seungcheol, who nodded.

“Of course, don’t worry,” he said with a warm smile.

When we reached my stop, I thanked them again and waved goodbye. It wasn’t until I was inside that it hit me: I was now friends with Seventeen, and Mingyu had my number.

---

A Few Months Later

⤷I had grown closer to the boys and often stayed at Seungcheol’s house, where they all lived. Each member had their own room—it was basically a mansion!

“Noona! Seungkwan keeps saying I’m bad at badminton!” Dino whined, sitting beside me.

“Because you are! Right, noona? You saw how I beat him in TTT,” Seungkwan smirked.

“I did, but don’t tease Dino so much!” I laughed.

Suddenly, I remembered something. “Wait! Oh no, my ramen!” I ran to the kitchen and found Mingyu standing there.

“Is this yours, noona?” he asked, pointing at the pot.

I nodded sheepishly. “I forgot because I was watching a K-drama with the guys.”

“Your ramen’s ready. I’ll grab a bowl for you,” he said, opening the cabinet.

“Y/N?” Seungcheol’s voice interrupted us.

I turned to him. “Oppa, why?”

“Can you both come upstairs to the balcony?”

I glanced at Mingyu, who gave me a small smile. “Let’s go,” he said.

As we followed Seungcheol, I yelled back to the others, “Don’t eat my ramen!”

Their smirks told me they probably would.

When we reached the balcony, Seungcheol was already waiting. “What’s wrong? I’m nervous!” I joked, standing between him and Mingyu.

Seungcheol nudged Mingyu. “You should go first.”

Mingyu took a deep breath and looked at me. “Just tell her,” Seungcheol encouraged.

"Why me?" Mingyu whined. "Fine, I'll tell her," Seungcheol sighed.

"I know this might end up awkward, but... me and Mingyu want to confess something to you..." Seungcheol began. "The day we saw you at the fan meeting, we were immediately attracted to your beauty, and we couldn’t wait to have a conversation with you. We were so happy to have the chance to talk to such a beautiful fan. After that, me and the guys couldn’t stop talking about you, especially Mingyu. I told them that we should invite you to dinner if we got the chance, and we immediately took that opportunity after the concert. As time passed, Mingyu and I started to develop a small crush on you. We’ve been hanging out a lot, and now we just wanted to share our feelings with you, hoping it won’t make things awkward if you like one of us."

I couldn’t quite process what he said.

"H-hey, no pressure. If you’re not ready—"

"No," I interrupted, "I mean, uh... how do I explain this? I do like you both too, but I... I don’t know. I don’t want to pick between you two," I nervously said while playing with my fingers.

"I also like you both personally—not just because you two are my biases, but for who you really are. We’ve all become so close, and I was confused about who I liked, but I realized that maybe I just like you both equally..." I confessed.

"Really? Maybe we can make it work?" Mingyu said.

"I don’t understand," Seungcheol said, looking at Mingyu in confusion.

"Well, I’m gonna admit that I find Cheol-hyung attractive—"

I stopped myself from giggling, and Mingyu noticed. He shyly hid his face against my shoulder.

"Aye~ don’t be shy!" I teased.

"Stop it, noona!" He whined.

"Continue, Gyu," we heard Seungcheol say. Even though he was nervous, Mingyu continued.

"Well... yeah, I do find you, hyung, attractive, and might have small feelings for you and noona. So I’m suggesting that we should work it out and try to be in a relationship?" Mingyu continued.

"Ooh! It’s like a poly relationship?" I asked, and Mingyu nodded as an answer.

"I like reading that kind of genre, though, so I guess it’s a good idea. What’s your thought on that?" I said, looking at Seungcheol, who was quietly observing us.

"Well, me and Mingyu already talked about this kind of setup. We were just thinking that you wouldn’t agree and might find it weird," Seungcheol explained, leaning against the railing.

"I don’t find it weird," I replied with a smile. "But what about the boys? I’m scared that their perspective will change towards me when they find out about this," I said, sighing.

"About that, we’ve already talked to them, and they were fine with it. They were actually supportive," Seungcheol reassured me.

I took a deep breath, absorbing everything they just told me. The idea of being in a relationship with both Seungcheol and Mingyu felt like walking into uncharted territory—but it also felt exciting and genuine.

"So... you’re saying the boys are supportive?" I asked cautiously, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of Mingyu’s blanket.

Mingyu nodded, his expression soft and reassuring. "We talked about it because we wanted their blessing before confessing. They even teased us about how nervous we were."

Seungcheol chuckled, the sound easing some of my nerves. "Yeah, Jeonghan especially had a field day with it. He said he ‘saw this coming from a mile away.’"

I couldn’t help but laugh. "That does sound like Jeonghan."

For a moment, we all stood in comfortable silence, the city lights twinkling behind us. Then Mingyu reached out and gently took my hand in his. "Noona, we just want to make you happy. If this setup doesn’t feel right for you, we’ll understand."

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, his gaze steady and sincere. "We care about you too much to push you into something you’re not ready for."

Their honesty and thoughtfulness made my chest tighten with emotion. I realized that what I felt for them wasn’t just a fleeting crush or admiration. It was something deeper, built on trust and genuine connection.

"I..." I hesitated for a moment before meeting their eyes. "I want to try. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I want to explore it with both of you."

Their faces lit up, Mingyu’s smile bright and Cheol’s soft and comforting. Mingyu pulled me into a playful hug, his excitement contagious. "Noona, you won’t regret this! We’ll make sure of it!"

Seungcheol’s arms wrapped around both of us, his warmth grounding. "Let’s take this one step at a time, together."

And in that moment, surrounded by their laughter and warmth, I knew I had made the right choice.

"So they finally had the guts to tell you?" Jeonghan teased as the three of us headed back downstairs.

"Shut up, hyung!" Mingyu said, making Jeonghan laugh.

- end of flashback -

back to present

⤷"What did he take?" Cheol asked, helping me stand up from the couch.

"My photocard!" I replied.

"Mingyu!" He called, and we saw him poke his head out from the door upstairs. I gave him a smirk after Cheol motioned for him to come down.

"Give it back," Cheol ordered.

"But love!" Mingyu whined before handing it back to me. I hugged him and leaned my head against his chest since he's taller.

"We both know you also have one, right? And it's always in my bag wherever I go," I said, making him nod sheepishly while smiling.

Cheol just laughed at us before dragging us to the kitchen, showing us the food he bought for us.

"Woah!" Mingyu and I exclaimed as we saw the spread.

"Thank you, baby!" I said, pecking his cheek.

"You're welcome, bab," he smiled, caressing my hair.

"Let's eat!" Mingyu cheered, taking the food out of the plastic.

I may or may not do a part 2 of this 😁 please tell me your thoughts about this at the comment section!

#seventeen fluff #seventeen poly #choi seungcheol #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #polyamory #polyamarous #seventeen au #seventeen fanfic #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x oc #mingyu fluff #mingyu fanfic #y/n

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webbluvrsugar · 2 days ago

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through and through. S.R fanfiction. CHAPTER ONE.

➠ fanfic masterlist ৎ୭

content warning: angst, lowkey mean Spencer, female reader, no use of y/n.

You knew that no matter how much Hotch begged for your help on a case, coming back was a mistake.

You figured it out when you’ve just walked into the BAU and Spencer’s eyes met yours, a flick of disappointment and hurt was pretty evident in the brunette’s eyes and honestly, you wanted to quit that mission right there, you wanted to leave and tell Hotch that you wouldn’t be able to do it — but that would’ve made you even more of a coward than you already are.

You didn’t need any introductions to team, they already knew who you were, the point was.. why were you here? That’s what Spencer asked himself. Were you here to work on a case, would you be gone after? Were you here to you with his heart just to leave to another state entirely? Again?

Whatever it was, he didn’t want to know, in fact, he didn’t want anything to do with you from the moment you walked in that room, he even gave up on his usual cup of coffee because you two were not about to have this conversation, you were not just going to come back here after all those months with no contact and then act like nothing happened, that was not happening because it did, something did happen and he suddenly feels like a fool for leaving all those voicemails when you came to the BAU with just a phone call from Hotch.

Turns out you didn’t change your number like he thought.

It’s clear why Hotch wanted you back on the team, you’ve always been a great addition to it and, with a harder case in hands, he should’ve expected it. He just didn’t think that you returning back would affect him so much, he can’t think, he can’t do his own job as profiler correctly because all he can think about is you — and maybe that is exactly why you two should’ve never gotten with each other, you’d end up hurting yourself or the team. Foolish as it seems, he still hoped it was different.

And now, as you investigate the house of another missing girl, he’s trying hard to avoid you, but you don’t make it easier for him.

You approach him slowly at first, pretending to look for clues, that is until, you actually talk to him. “Spencer, I —“ you try to speak, instead of running away this time, he interrupts you.

“You found a new lead?” He asks, you shake your head.

“No I just wanted to..”

“Then we don’t need to talk at all.” He tries not to come off as rude, but he does.

You should stay quiet and accept it that he doesn’t want to talk now and won’t want to talk soon but that voice in your head… “Spencer, I’m trying to explain, I want to apologise to you.”

You could’ve sworn he saw red from the harshness he closed the girl’s drawer. “I don’t want any apologies from you, this is not the time nor the place for you to start amends with people you lost — a little girl is missing and we need to focus on that.” He scrolls through the bottom drawers now. “And don’t talk to me about what you wish you had done because it’s not what you did.”

To an extent, his words are fair, but the fairness of them still doesn’t help to ease the pain you felt when he spoke like that to you, because it’s not the Spencer you know. It’s the Spencer you’ve seen talking to an unsub — because that’s what you feel like, he’s talking and treating you like you’re some kind of perp and.. that’s not the Spencer you know, it will always be the Spencer you love but not the one you know.

And it hurts to see that he doesn’t even want to look and you when you leave the girl’s house and meet back with team.

Sure, you have a new lead now but.. you’re forced to dealwith a broken heart.

You wonder if this is what he felt when you left.

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riddlerosehearts · 2 days ago

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god i love how the twst novel characterizes trey and particularly what it does with his enabling of riddle's tyranny, how it uses this aspect of trey as a parallel to yuuya's intense anxiety and fear of confrontation and uses both of their characters to emphasize the consequences of avoiding conflict, and how you have to overcome that fear in order to do what's right, it's so fascinating to me and since i'm sure there are a lot of fans who haven't read the novel i wanna talk about it.

see, yuuya is written as someone who is so, so afraid of conflict that he doesn't let himself get close to anyone or even have any hobbies--he says he doesn't want to risk fighting with friends over a difference of opinion, and he's also afraid of finding something he's so passionate about that he doesn't want to let go of it, and having to fight to protect it. he practically avoids really living because he's just too scared of having to deal with any potential confrontation. throughout the novel there are times when yuuya wants to tell ace and deuce to stop fighting but can't get himself to say anything, and times when they ask him for his opinion but he avoids giving it so he won't have to upset anyone by picking a side. even when ace starts telling riddle off and calling him a tyrant at the unbirthday party, and everyone else is saying that ace is wrong, yuuya just stands there and does nothing--he knows he should have his friend's back but he freezes up, too terrified to speak.

and then trey... this will probably get a little long, so i'll put it under a read more, but oh, trey.

in book 1 of the game, when riddle has some poor student collared for not wearing pink to feed the flamingos, he tells trey and cater to escort the student away and they both just say "yes housewarden" and do it. in the novel, we have this additional moment:

notice how trey does not say this is okay, but he also doesn't exactly say it isn't. he doesn't really share an opinion on the situation at all, he just says there's nothing he can do, and then thinks to himself that he can't afford to think about it, can't risk letting riddle be pushed over the edge.

this is when ace, deuce, yuu, and grim then come in to ask trey about his friendship with riddle. in the game, grim asks him why he hasn't told riddle off already, given that he's the older of the two, and trey states that he doesn't think the situation calls for it because "these sorts of strict rules are what created riddle". but in the novel, it's deuce who asks trey "i know you're the vice housewarden, but you're older than riddle, right? wouldn't the housewarden listen to his elder?", and the way trey's response goes is a little different, with grim saying he must be scared of riddle and trey once again (well, twice actually) saying that he can't do anything about the situation:

he tells the rest of the group all about how riddle's parents are famous magical healers, how his mother planned out every single aspect of his life for him, how he obeyed every rule she set and had his signature spell mastered by age 10, and how riddle genuinely believes that the enforcement of strict rules is a service to his dorm members and he sees the violation of those rules as an inexcusable offense. grim wonders why this is and yuuya realizes the following, which is also a perfect explanation of why trey believes that standing up to riddle about his overly strict attitude would be rejecting him: "if riddle accepts that rules can be broken, then that's basically a rejection of his own self. because he was created by rules".

in both the game and the novel, trey then mentions that he knows how hard riddle's life has been and says he just can't bring himself to hold riddle's way of doing things against him, to which ace responds by telling him "so it's YOUR fault riddle is like this". but in the novel, yuuya is surprised because he didn't think trey bore any responsibility, and trey's response to the question of "you always thought what his parents did to him was wrong, didn't you?" is described like this:

it's very similar to the various descriptions throughout the book of yuuya desperately wanting to speak up but being unable to get the words out whenever there's any sign of conflict. clearly trey, like yuuya, is afraid, not necessarily of riddle himself but of having to hurt his friend by telling him he's doing something wrong, and in the novel ace calls him out on that:

(the dialogue at this part of the game is largely the same, but the sentences between "that's pathetic" and "you guys are supposed to be friends" are brand new).

and then, trey's response, or lack thereof is very telling:

what ace says to trey here even prompts yuuya to apologize to ace for not standing up for him before, because he empathizes with trey. he understands trey's inability to stop riddle, his fear of rocking the boat, the desire to avoid causing a conflict and upsetting his friend no matter what else happens, because it's exactly what he's been afraid of for his whole life. and as a result yuuya feels ashamed of himself and believes that ace was right to push trey the way he did. in response, ace tells yuuya that it's okay for him to not want to force himself into fights because, unlike trey, at least yuuya will tell ace if he thinks he's wrong.

but that's not enough for yuuya, who decides that he has to finally, finally stand up for ace and deuce when riddle has them collared and everyone is cheering for riddle during the duel. he walks right through the crowd and tells riddle that he doesn't even care who's wrong or right, he just wants the fighting to stop. it's a simple thing, but it's such a difficult step for him to take.

for trey, we know how this goes--just like in the game, he intervenes when riddle summons rose bushes to attack ace, because seeing his friend almost become a murderer is where he draws the line. in the novel, he also tells riddle that if this doesn't stop he'll only end up more and more alone. he reaches his hand out to his friend and tries to urge him to calm down.

of course, none of this goes the way either of them expected, and in the novel cater tries to get yuuya to agree that they should run from the danger of fighting riddle, but neither he nor trey will yield. so all of our main heartslabyul boys and ramshackle join together to find a way to win. and right after trey uses his magic to save cater from riddle, we get this dialogue:

and while what trey says after riddle escapes from his overblot state is basically the same as it is in the game, i think the description of his actions here is lovely:

and it may seem like a simple thing, to just be honest with a friend, but it's such a big step for trey to finally take with riddle, after spending so much time enabling his harmful behavior out of an incredibly flawed sense of loyalty toward him.

in the end, yuuya realizes that his way of living, spending his life stubbornly avoiding confrontation, had kept him from being able to make friends. similarly trey being so afraid of upsetting riddle that he hid his true feelings and let him do whatever he wanted, kept him from being able to be a true friend to him. they both learn to finally be brave enough to take action and to be honest with themselves and others, but yuuya mainly needed to learn the value of standing up for your friends while trey had to learn how important it is to stand up to them when necessary.

yuuya also says, after ace and deuce call him stubborn and opinionated, that he may have just hated bending his own principles more than he wanted to have friends, which i find really interesting because essentially part of yuuya's arc is to stop avoiding forming relationships with others for the sake of his principles, because true friends will have each other's backs even if they don't always agree on everything. and then part of trey's arc is to stop bending his principles for the sake of his relationship with riddle, because true loyalty goes hand-in-hand with honesty. and while i feel like you could figure a lot of this out about trey just by reading between the lines a bit in-game, i love how the novel really brings it to the forefront by making their arcs parallel each other like this.

#twisted wonderland #trey clover #yuuya kuroki #riddle rosehearts #twst novel #godddd. this is probably overly long and poorly written and nobody will read it but it's fine #trey and riddle's relationship is so fascinating i want to study them under a microscope #i love trey. i think he has a bit of a darker side to him for sure but when it comes to riddle??#he is full of unconditional love and devotion for his childhood friend. he just wants him to be happy but that's also where he goes wrong!!#he's SO blindly devoted to riddle that he doesn't realize the mistake he's been making until it's almost too late!!#oughhhh how i wish the heartslabyul anime would take some inspiration from the novel #also if someone does read this i'm sorry for the low quality photos of the novel that i took with my phone LMAO. i did put alt text on them

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