#even labor called this stupid basically

[thetimelordbatgirl]

So basically, next to this being a way for Tory's to force people to join the military if they win because the military ads aren't doing shit to get people to want to join, this is also a way to screw over anyone not in the elite class. Because let's be real: kids of rich assholes like Rishi??? They wont be affected by this, their parents will avoid that because their parents only seek to punish the non-elite class people. Hell despite saying the royals will be included, we know Charles or William can just find a way to be exempt from the law like royals always end up doing. Meaning they'll be able to continue living their rich life's 18 and beyond, able to get any jobs they want or continue in education if they want, never having to worry about shit, meanwhile non-elite class 18 year olds are basically being told fuck their education, fuck their jobs, fuck any obligations they have going on, the government seeks to punish them and force them to do shit that in the long run, will impact anything they had going on negatively. Like Rishi and co are not stupid. There is no great way to fit a year in the military around university or a way to keep a job and to suggest ones who are carers should just leave caring for loved ones to whatever scheme the government makes up for them while they gone is just cruel. And there is literally no way to slip in a weekend of unpaid labor once a month for a year while in Uni without overwhelming the students who are already busy with degrees and jobs and other stuff at the weekend. This shit among so much other shit is literally why tory's have to be voted out, because if they aren't, they will do this shit and fuck over younger generations more then they already have in the past 14 years.

[azzibueckers5]

chapter 1: i wanna know peace again (wanna sing a different song)

(ao3 link)

azzi realizes (with some gentle prodding) midway through her rookie wnba season that maybe she and paige were more than best friends and she just didn't know it. except they haven't really talked in more than a year. cue a mini crashout and some major life re-evaluation. and a lot of wine. (wc: ~5k)

chapter 1: in which azzi discovers the dangers of combining wine, well-meaning but invasive questions from friends, and the call feature on her iphone

AN: um hi hello! this is my first ever published fic so please be kind 🙏🏻i'll try and shorten the manifesto authors note i have in ao3, but basically this is just meant to be a silly little story! i don't think this is canon in any way i just really like angsty gays being stupid, so. this would theoretically be during azzi’s rookie season (so summer 2026) and operates under a reality in which p+a are very much not together and were never messing around, so make some mental edits to the pazzi timeline if you so please. i hope you enjoy this little labor of love ❤︎

it starts, as many things do, with dinner and one too many glasses of wine for azzi. she and a few teammates had decided to have a girls' night- a real girls' night, as aaliyah had called it, meaning dinner at a nice, secluded cocktail bar downtown during their few days off. they were grown ups now, or at least pretending to be, and what better way to celebrate getting through half of the season than by getting wine drunk and munching on slightly overpriced hors d'oeuvres. 

they’re mostly through their food at this point, which is to say, pleasantly tipsy, maybe even teetering on the edge of drunk, and azzi leans back into the booth with a contented sigh, lazily sipping on the remaining wine in her glass. 

kiki and georgia are discussing kiki’s new boyfriend, and azzi is only half paying attention, finding the buzz in her system making it difficult to really enjoy hearing the phrase “ i’m just so in love with him ” for the third time in the last five minutes. 

georgia is amused though, and azzi lets her handle it, up until georgia turns to her and asks, “what about you, fudd? got anything going on over there? any new suitors?” 

azzi rolls her eyes, sighing. “no ma’am. answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked it.”

it should bother her, really, how little action she gets, how uninterested in casual dating she’s been. but she’s content, for the most part, with her friends and her family and the occasional one night stand. sometimes it feels like her friends are more invested in her dating life than she is.

“come onnnn, when’s the last time you dated someone,” kiki pipes up, and azzi thinks here we go again.  

“bro i don’t know. the whole dating and boys thing isn’t for me, okay,” she whines, and even though that’s the truth, dating has never been something azzi cared about, the words feel a little sour on her tongue. 

she glances at aaliyah, who’s looking at her curiously. 

“what?” she asks, at her imploring gaze. the wine is making her bolder, more inclined to be blunt about her disinterest in boys, and she thought aaliyah kind of understood that about her, anyways.

aaliyah opens her mouth, as if to say something, and then closes it, and azzi feels herself flush a little bit, though she doesn’t really know why. aaliyah is looking at her like she can’t quite figure something out, and it unnerves her. 

azzi squirms, and repeats “no really, what? now you have to tell me.” its followed by a chorus of agreement from the other two girls, and aaliyah sighs. 

“how many times have you been in love? we got kiki over here yappin’ about her second guy of the year and yet i’ve never heard you interested in a guy for more than a week.” she says it like she’s trying to clue azzi in on something, yet all she can focus on is the first part of the question. and she’s embarrassed . 

she flushes, and tries to ignore the anxiety that her biggest insecurity raises to the surface, steeling herself for her answer. her limited dating experience has never been embarrassing, because she’d always been a busy athlete and could brush it off as something she never had time for. but being 23 and never having been in love was secretly something that kept her up at night. 

the wine makes her bold, though, so she lifts her head and mumbles out a quick “i’ve never- i’ve never been in love.” 

the table is silent for a brief second, her words sinking in, but instead of shock or judgement gazing back at her, azzi is met with confusion and almost amusement . 

kiki is the first one to speak up. “well we know that's not true.” her tone is playful, as if azzi is kidding.

azzi stares at her blankly. “what d’you mean?” she laughs a little at their disbelieving looks, and then adds, “don’t rub it in. it's not exactly something i’m proud of.”

still, she’s met with unnerving eyes. finally, aaliyah blurts out “i mean. we know you and paige…” she trails off without finishing, but the damage is done.

“what the fuck are you guys on about?” she immediately says in response, half laughing, trying to lessen the tension. she ignores the way the unexpected mention of paige cuts at her heart. they haven’t spoken in, god, probably two or three months at this point, and the reminder twists something ugly in her chest as she waits for what promises to be a weird joke that falls flat. 

all three faces peering back at her seem entirely humorless though, and azzi starts to get the idea that she’s missing some sort of crucial piece of information. “i wasn’t in love with paige,” she gets out, ignoring the way her voice catches on the name.

aaliyah’s face softens. “we don’t have to talk about it of you don’t want to but… you don’t have to hide that from us, azzi.” 

she splutters in response. “you guys don’t actually think that-” but the look on their faces belays that, in fact, all three of them somehow think that azzi was in love with paige.

 “guys. come on. that was just some weird internet theory. paige and i were just best friends.” she’s defensive now, because what the fuck is going on. 

her pulse is buzzing under her skin, no longer from just the wine, and she suddenly feels like the restaurant around them is really quiet, and everyone is listening in on this conversation. the ac must not be working properly either, because she’s sweating, legs sticking to the leather of the seat below her. 

georgia, graciously, breaks the silence, but the relief is short lived when azzi hears the nonsense that comes out of her mouth. 

“azzi, come on, i wasn’t even with you guys at uconn and i know you were more than friends. you don’t gotta pretend in front of us.”

and then kiki is chiming in with “i mean everybody kinda knew it…” and azzi feels like god is playing some kind of twisted prank on her. 

she turns back to aaliyah, hoping she can defend azzi, except her face looks a little horrified. like she’s realizing that in fact azzi wasn’t aware that everyone thought they were more than friends. she looks for support anyways, knowing that aaliyah had seen them at uconn, had understood that they were just intensely codependent and not dating, for the love of god. 

“c’mon, tell them we were just friends,” she pleads to the older girl, expecting back up on at least this. 

“azzi…” she trails off, and azzi can only gape at all of them. “i mean, you guys were attached at the hip. you had sleepovers like 4 times a week…” she trails off, and azzi realizes three things in quick succession. 

one, aaliyah thought her and paige had been actually, truly dating, or hooking up, or something. two, this means that probably multiple other people on the team also thought they were something. and three, if kiki and georgia also thought that… somehow azzi had missed the memo that not only did random fans on the internet think they’d been in love, but that everyone had. she feels like she’s going to throw up. 

“you guys are wrong. we were just best friends,” she says, with as much conviction as she can muster, and it is the truth, even though her audience is making it feel like a lie. they had been just best friends, truly, except . 

except the one night azzi can’t remember , after the championship, when she’d woken up in paige’s hotel room with a blinding hangover and spotty memory. that in itself hadn’t been weird, but the mark on her collarbone had been new, and the way paige wouldn’t meet her eyes had been different, and, and. azzi shuts down the thoughts of that horrible morning and ensuing weeks.

she blinks back into the restaurant to look at her teammates, and she sees the dawning realization on their faces that she’s telling the truth, or most of it anyway, and they all look, well, a little shell-shocked.  

she asks for clarification, even though she knows the answer already, “i mean did everyone- did everyone think we were-” she can’t even finish the sentence, and doesn’t need to. She gets three nods immediately, and the playful mood that had existed at their table only minutes before has evaporated into the low lights above them. 

and they’re all wrong, they all have to be wrong, because azzi isn’t even really into girls, and hadn’t been in love with paige, because she would have known. surely she would have known, or at least someone would have mentioned it to her. this feels like a bad dream that she can’t wake up from, because now she can’t stop thinking about paige, and how much she misses her laugh, and the curl of their fingers together, and how they haven’t gone this long without speaking since, well, ever. 

she forcefully shuts down thoughts of the blonde, because she’d been so good at blocking out how much she missed her, and this conversation is just messing with her wine-addled mind. she had not been in love with paige. she just hadn’t been, couldn’t have been. 

“you guys are wrong,” she says, extremely convincingly. because it's true, obviously. and the looks she receives in response are disbelieving, but they seem to understand that this isn’t something azzi wants to get into right now. 

“okay. if you say so,” kiki replies gently, words laced with pity, and azzi hates everything.

she nods, trying to ignore the fact that she kind of feels like crying, and manages to get out an “i do” without her voice cracking. 

aaliyah gives her a long, searching look, before deciding to drop it. mercifully, she begins asking georgia about the date she went on a couple nights before, and the attention shifts. 

for the short rest of the dinner though, azzi is lost in a subtle, wine-induced panic. the girls leave her alone to her thoughts for the most part, seemingly understanding that she doesn’t have much to add, and she sighs in relief when the bill gets paid and the ubers begin to be called. 

outside, the muggy dc air hits her face and does nothing to cool the heat that's been simmering in her veins. as they disperse in front of the restaurant to go their separate ways, aaliyah hesitates for a second before climbing in the car that's awaiting her. “if you ever want to talk about it… you know i’m here right?”

azzi doesn’t have to ask what she means. she nods, and pastes on the most convincing smile she can muster. “i’m fine, really, lili. there's nothing to talk about.”

at her disbelieving look, azzi rolls her eyes. “really. i mean it.” she pauses, and then allows a meek “but i’ll let you know if i change my mind.” 

aaliyah hums, and reaches out to squeeze her hand, before finally climbing into her car. “if you say so, fudd. g’night. love you. i'll see you at practice.”

“'night. love you too,” she responds, and shuts the door gently, before looking up and searching for her own uber. 

the drive home is spent staring out the window trying not to cry. and it doesn’t make sense, she wasn’t in love with paige, but for some reason, out of all the times she’d ever been accused of dating paige, this one has rattled her the most. 

she’d always thought that the rumors had been kind of funny, in a ridiculous, distant way, and though they’d stopped joking about them as they’d gotten more intense in the later parts of their friendship, azzi had always thought that paige kind of thought they were amusing too. 

except, now that she really thinks about it, she’d stopped joking about the speculation because it used to make paige fidgety. and azzi had always thought it had just been because the rumors were so rampant, that it was awkward because they were so wrong, but now this stupid dinner and the stupid wine is making her not so sure. 

but no. she knows she wasn’t in love with paige. because. because she would have known. 

her mind feels like it's going at a million miles a minute, flashes of paige’s smile and the way her head would always come to rest on azzi’s shoulder, and how safe she’d always felt next to paige, and-

her impending anxiety attack is put on pause when the car gets to her building, and as she thanks the driver and heads up into the elevators, she tries to reassure herself that it's just the wine, and the surprise information that it hadn’t just been strangers thinking they were together, but friends, close friends , too. 

and it's already late, but when she is finally engulfed by the silence of her apartment, azzi does the only thing that she thinks will bring her any sense of clarity and drags her phone out of her purse.  

katie picks up on the second ring (she ignores the part of her that’s first instinct is still to call paige when anything is wrong because god fucking damn it ), and azzi feels moderately better at her mom’s familiar “hello” on the other side of the line.

“hi,” is the only thing she can come up with in response, and she mentally curses her vocal cords for breaking on the singular word. so much for not revealing to her mother that she’s upset. 

“azzi honey, are you okay?” comes the response, gentle with concern. and she is, she is okay except she kind of feels like the rug has been ripped out from under her, and she just needs her mom to tell her that everyone else is crazy. 

“i’m fine, i’m okay,” she releases, but that feels like a lie so she continues. “can i- can i ask you a question? and you can’t. you can’t laugh or think it's stupid or whatever.”

katie hums in confusion on the other side of the line, and azzi just needs to say it before she loses the confidence of the wine sliding through her system.

“did you ever- did you ever think i was in love with paige?”

from the strangled sound on the other side of the phone, it's clearly not what she expected azzi to ask. 

“azzi. sweetheart. did you- were you not?” and that. that gets her to finally shed the tears that have been brewing since dinner. 

her panicked “no!” sounds a lot less convincing than she intends it to be, and she doesn’t- she doesn’t understand what the fuck going on. 

katie’s voice is gentle when she continues, understanding the fragility of the moment (and azzi’s sanity ) and she states quietly, “i mean. i always thought the two of you were a little bit in love with each other. less so when you were younger, but. azzi . i mean, you guys lived out of eachothers pockets for years. i always kind of thought you guys were more than friends.” her words are soft, like she knows azzi can’t handle anything else, but they still pierce her heart like knives against a target.

and what the fuck ever. 

she’s really crying now, though she’s trying to keep it quiet and preserve the barest amount of pride she has left. it's just. everything everyone is saying isn’t making any sense because it's impossible to be in love with someone without knowing it. 

and yet, here azzi is, on the phone with her mother and maybe possibly coming to the realization that maybe she and paige weren’t exactly the most platonic of friends and it's at least a year too late. and then that last thought hits her square in the chest: the fact that she and paige haven’t been alone in the same room together in over a year, haven’t called in maybe longer, that it very well might be too late, and then her tears aren’t so silent anymore. 

she lets out a sob over the phone and her mom’s voice sounds worried when she says “oh, azzi. we thought you guys broke up last year. you never wanted to talk about what happened and we just assumed you were dating in secret and something happened. you’re telling me you weren’t- you never…”

she cuts her mom off with another “no!” and this really might be the worst thing that’s ever happened, because her mom thought they were dating. and then, because she needs to know for sure she asks again, voice thick with tears “so you think. you think that i was in love with paige?” 

there’s silence on the other side of the phone for a second, as katie processes how to respond. and then her mom must hate her or something because all she says in response is “honey, only you can answer that question. but i think that if you’re asking me, then you already know.” 

and, well, she’s right. and isn’t that just fucking awesome.

after hanging up on her mother and swearing up and down that she’ll call tomorrow when she’s more calm and coherent and not losing her fucking mind , azzi takes a long, still slightly tipsy shower. 

she thinks of paige six different times in the span of twenty minutes and contemplates slamming her head against the tile walls. 

it’s as if aaliyah had uncovered this part of azzi’s brain that had been locked away, unbeknownst to her, and now that it was released it was determined to wreak as much havoc as possible. 

she knows she won’t be able to sleep right away, the buzz of adrenaline, alcohol, and unexplored feelings too potent to let her rest, so she does probably the dumbest thing she can think of and grabs a bottle of wine and the blanket that paige bought her when she was 17 and plants herself on the couch. she figures she deserves the pinot something-or-other that someone had gifted her when she’d had her little housewarming party in the spring. 

and then she’s reminded of said party, and the last minute invite she’d sent to paige as a peace offering, as a plea for normalcy. the older girl had been in the area, azzi knows because drew had mentioned it to her brothers, and she hadn’t exactly expected paige to show up and be normal, relaxed and funny paige, azzi’s paige, but she also hadn’t expected the text saying she couldn’t come with a half hearted excuse. 

that had been the nail in the coffin for azzi, the sign that she should stop trying. because as much as the unanswered texts and awkward interactions after uconn visits and stilted hugs after team trips to watch the wings had hurt, the realisation that paige had decided not to be there for azzi on a night that was supposed to be a celebration of her accomplishments had made her understand how wide the gap between them had really grown. paige had never chosen not to be there for azzi. 

and now she’s beginning to understand that it had been heartbreak, in its truest form, that had settled into her bones that day, not merely disappointment. she’d cried in the bathroom at her own party, briefly, when she’d realized that paige wasn’t coming, and. 

and so many things about their relationship are starting to make sense. 

the way they’d told each other everything except anything to do with love interests or hookups because it was an unspoken rule between them that the other didn’t want to know. the way azzi had been completely comfortable with nudity in front of teammates except around paige, always turning around when the blonde was changing and vice versa. the way they didn’t gone more than a couple hours without communicating unless one of them was asleep for like. eight years. the way paige had slotted so seamlessly into her life that she’d felt like family, except the word sister had never seemed like an appropriate word for what they were to each other.

and then. and then azzi is suddenly angry. angry at herself for not figuring this out sooner. angry at her friends for never informing her that she was in love with her best friend. and most importantly, she was fucking furious at paige. because the more she thinks back at their relationship, and the good and the bad, the more she realizes that paige had to have known. she’s struck with the thought that paige had probably been in love with her too, but instead of comfort, all azzi can feel is the grief of losing her before they were ever even something more, and the fury at paige for letting them fall apart . 

because it had been paige that had stopped responding to text messages. paige who had subtly put a stop to any and all physical contact that azzi had tried to instigate. and it had been paige who had started and ended their dizzying, agonizing conversation about the championship night. 

azzi knows she’d fucked up by refusing to aknowledge the fact that they had definitely kissed, definitely more than kissed that night. except it had been hazy. she couldn’t remember the details of how they’d gotten from the after party in the hotel to paige's room. she couldn’t remember what they’d said or done or even what the time frame of that night had looked like. she only remembered blurry snapshots of paige’s mouth against hers, and the feeling of her hands tangling in the blonde’s hair, and the proof, stark against her chest, that paige's mouth had moved lower and meant it.

and then azzi hadn’t acknowledged it the next morning, because what on earth do you say when you’re pretty sure you made out with your best friend of eight years but you can’t actually remember. and paige had been in a horrible mood, and they’d fought, like they never did, about something entirely unrelated, and azzi had been blindsided, like she was missing something throughout the entire argument. 

and now. azzi is starting to understand that it hadn’t been that paige didn’t care when she’d put distance between them, flitting off to the league and leaving calls and texts unanswered, but that she’d cared too much. 

still, this doesn’t make azzi feel better, and she’s pissed. because how very dare paige fuck off without telling azzi that they’d been in love, and leave her to think that paige hadn’t needed her. 

she must be drunker than she thought she was, because suddenly her anger boils over and she’s doing probably the stupidest thing she possibly could, which is picking up her phone and dialing the number still pinned at the top of her contacts list. 

its late now, like beyond a reasonable time to be calling anyone, let alone your ex best friend who you don’t speak to anymore, but somewhere in azzi’s hazy mind she knows that paige is an hour behind and that she always picks up the phone for azzi. 

it rings four times, and each one causes her heartbeat to pick up even faster, and azzi doesn’t know what would be worse, paige answering or paige not. (she does know. it's not the former)

and then the line clicks midway through the fifth ring and paige says “azzi?” and azzi hears her voice for the first time in months, since they played each other in may and could barely look at eachother, and all the fight and anger that was simmering in her blood seems to disappear at how broken her name sounds coming from paige’s lips. 

she can only muster up a strangled “hi” into the phone, really eloquent, azzi, great job , and she realizes when she says it that she’s crying again because she sounds like she’s crying , and isn’t that just perfect. 

immediately, azzi can sense the shift in paige’s energy over the phone as her voice rings out in a worried “azzi? are you okay?” and azzi has forgotten entirely why she called in the first place or what to say.

“no, yeah, m’fine,” she answers, but she know she doesn’t sound convincing, and wow, okay, this pinot something-or-other must be like, at least 15% because azzi then blurts out a pitiful “m’just drunk and i miss you.”

paige exhales sharply into the phone, the ensuing silence deafening, and azzi feels humiliation curl in her gut, regretting everything between the day she was born and now that has led her to this moment. 

but then paige says, weakly, her voice slightly muffled over the distance, “i miss you too, az. so much.” 

she expects to feel relief at the words, the knowledge that paige misses her too, probably just as much, but it’s only a reminder to azzi of how badly they’ve fucked everything up. 

and then she suddenly remembers that they have an away game in dallas, in only a week or so, and she really needs to get a grip but instead she hears herself speaking again, before she can process the words. “when i’m in dallas next week, can we maybe-”

she’s cut off by a woman’s voice in the background, on the other end of the phone, asking, “paige? are you still staying over?” 

azzi feels like she’s been thrown off the side of a mountain. 

or rather she wishes she was thrown off the side of a mountain because that probably feels better than the absolute devastation currently coursing out from her heart and into her bloodstream and clogging her lungs. 

she makes a choked off sound in the back of her throat, just as paige stammers out an uneven “can you give me a second?” her voice sounds distant, because it's not meant for azzi, and for the second time in the span of a minute, azzi regrets being born at all. 

she hears movement through the phoneline, imagining paige moving through this unknown woman’s house, and fuck, why hadn’t she considered this? that paige had moved on? here azzi was, finally figuring out her shit, and calling paige in the middle of the night like some desperate ex-something and paige might have had a whole girlfriend. 

azzi feels bile rise in her throat. 

somehow, she musters up the courage to croak out “no paige, it's okay. you go. i’m sorry for calling so la-”

“no, no, azzi, it’s fine, it's never too late for you,” and. well. that might just be the fucking joke of the century.  

“no, really paige, it's okay. i need to sleep too.”

there’s resigned silence between them for a second, and azzi thinks paige is going to simply hang up, and then the older girl whispers “were you gonna ask to hang out? in- in dallas?”

azzi’s “yes” is embarrassingly quick to tumble from her lips. 

paige lets out a quiet laugh, and it's brief and small, and really probably more of an amused exhale through her nose than anything else, but she laughs, and azzi feels the twisted fluttering of hope bloom in her chest, despite herself.

“okay. text me tomorrow, then. if you really want to do something.” there's a challenge in paige’s words, like she doesn’t think azzi will, and that stings, a little, but she tries not to let it. 

“i will. i promise.” a pause, and then when the other girl says nothing, “g’night paige,” she whispers, and she means that promise. she knows she’s drunk, and she guesses there might have been a similar exchange all those horrible months ago, hence paige’s quiet mistrust, but she knows in her bones that she’ll remember this tomorrow, that she’ll want to see paige.

“goodnight, azzi. sweet dreams.” and then, the dial tone. 

in the silence of the room, masochistically, azzi realizes that that’s the first time they’ve hung up the phone without saying i love you since they were fifteen. the irony is not lost on her. 

she falls asleep that night curled up into a ball, cheeks wet and the blanket paige got her still tucked around her feet.

AN: ummm thank you for reading! and please tell me how you liked if you so please! i am a people pleaser to my core so it might make me write faster. there should only be one more part and i'm about halfway done writing it! i hope this inspires you freaks to post stuff on ao3 bc it is NEEDED. xoxoxoxo

update: chapter 2

[girly-girlk]

Ok so Reader and Drew break things off, but she’s still really pregnant and goes into labor and he’s basically just an asshole the whole time

alone

drew starkey x pregnant!reader

summary: you and drew break up and you call him when your water breaks

a/n: so sorry that this one took a while, i’ve been super busy! hope you like it!!💕

you hadn’t seen drew in weeks.

not since the fight. not since the words that shattered whatever fragile peace you both were holding on to.

“you’re exhausting, you know that? it’s like this baby has made you impossible to be around.”

“then go. i’m not stopping you.”

“fine.”

and he did. no calls. no texts. not even a word from his friends.

you’d cried until your eyes felt hollow, until the baby kicked as if telling you to stop. so you did. for them.

now, at 37 weeks pregnant, your body was sore and swollen, and the last thing you expected at 2:14 a.m. was to wake up to a sudden, warm gush of fluid and a stabbing cramp that made you double over.

you were alone. terrified. but not stupid.

you called drew.

not because you forgave him. not because he deserved it.

because he was the father, and some small, stubborn part of you hoped—hoped—he’d be different when it really mattered.

the line rang once. then twice.

“yeah?” his voice was tired. irritated.

you inhaled shakily. “my water broke.”

silence. then: “okay… and?”

“and i’m alone,” you said, trying to keep the panic from your voice. “i don’t—i don’t want to do this by myself.”

more silence. a sharp breath from him. “jesus, okay. calm down. i’ll come get you.”

⸻

he showed up twenty minutes later, shirt wrinkled, eyes bloodshot. no urgency. no warmth.

“get in,” he said flatly, barely looking at you as you lowered yourself into the passenger seat, clutching your belly.

in the car, he didn’t say much. just kept tapping his fingers against the steering wheel like this whole thing was a chore.

“could you not do that?” you muttered through a contraction.

“what?” he snapped.

“tap. you’re making me anxious.”

he rolled his eyes. “everything makes you anxious lately.”

you looked away, biting the inside of your cheek so you wouldn’t cry.

⸻

at the hospital, the nurses were kind. you tried to focus on them, not on drew sitting in the corner on his phone, not offering your hand, not asking how you were doing.

when the pain grew worse, you whimpered through a contraction, reaching out blindly. drew didn’t move.

“could you—can you just hold my hand?” you asked, voice shaking.

he sighed. loudly. “you wanted me gone, remember?”

tears slid down your cheeks. “this isn’t about us.”

“it’s always about you,” he muttered.

one of the nurses gave him a sharp look. “maybe you should wait in the hall if you’re going to stress her out.”

he scoffed. “whatever.”

you watched him leave, a mix of pain and numbness filling the hollow part of your chest.

you didn’t want to need him. you didn’t want to miss him. but right now, it was just you, and your baby, and the breaking point of everything you’d once thought you’d have.

⸻

when the baby finally came—after hours of pain, sweat, and screaming—drew wasn’t there.

he missed the birth.

a nurse handed you your baby, and you cried harder than you ever had in your life. because despite everything, this little human was yours.

and in that moment, you didn’t need him.

not anymore.

[keferon]

Howdy!

I think your Monster Hunter AU is really cool and I wanted to know if you’d be cool if I tried to write something in the universe? (Specifically about Prowl haha, I saw him once and thought 👀 “man i wonder if tarantulas was in this au how spooky he’d be given he’s spooky enough in canon”)

Would also love to know your thoughts/if you had any of what Prowl could be up to, I know the au is Lost Light focused so I totally get it if you don’t have any/etc.

Hope you have a good day! Love your art!

Hoooo boy okay okay. Prowl.

He's a Golem created by Orion.

In mythology, Golems are essentially living statues made of clay mixed with blood and animated by magic. They are stupid and exist for primitive manual labor.

In my universe, a Golem is basically the same thing, but made of metal.

Orion assembled his golem from empty armor, parts stolen from the medbay, and his own energon. And then he went and got a Wisdom artifact and put it in the golem's head, because the rules strictly forbid giving golems internal organs like sparks or processors.

As a result, the golem was very light because it was essentially empty inside, so even when it moved it did so very quietly for a mech its size. Orion had been startled the first fifteen times the golem would appear completely silent beside him. On the sixteenth time, he called the golem Prowl.

Prowl is basically not a real mech. He has no spark, he has no need to eat or sleep. His only and primary task is to serve Orion. Thanks to the artifact, he is freakishly intelligent, not only compared to normal golems, but to normal mechs as well.

Orion keeps his origin a secret from everyone except Ratchet and Shockwave (because Shockwave was the one who taught him how to create golems), so all the mechs in the Order are convinced that Prowl is just Orion's very tedious assistant, not...you know...a walking puppet who has incredible intellectual abilities, but almost no emotions or conscience:)

[mikkeneko]

having now read all of the coffin rescue AUs, the hurt/comfort gremlin in me is blissfully sated, but finding myself a little saddened at the lack of Xianle Trio in them, particularly Feng Xin (this is why I probably won't get much into TGCF fandom, really -- I ship the wrong things.)

so in order to take this trope and, as usual, make it as stupid as possible, I am imagining what if Feng Xin were the one to coincidentally stumble over Xie Lian in the coffin? Because he'd certainly help him out! -- he cares too much to do otherwise! -- but he would be so incredibly unequipped to deal with the fallout of All Of That.

i am now picturing Feng Xin having broken the coffin and absconded with Xie Lian, possibly back to his palace, puts him on a couch and is now just staring at the absolute catatonic mess that is post-coffin Xie Lian while bluescreening and panicking because he doesn't even know where to begin. does Xie Lian need a bath? food? medical treatment? all of the above but where does he even start??

so, I'm thinking possibly in his panic he calls Mu Qing, because he simply doesn't know who else to turn to, and does a very bad job of explaining what he needs. and mu qing is just, ughhhh, why am I getting dragged back into this bullshit, but he goes over to Feng Xin's place complaining all the while, I am not a servant any more Feng Xin, you cannot ask me for favors just because you can't comprehend basic manual labor, it is 100% not my job any more to clean up after Xie Lian and this complaining monologue lasts right up until he lays eyes on Xie Lian and goes HOLY FUCKING SHIT

i am not going to write this

[gotstabbedbyapen]

Penelope & Athena headcanons because a certain moot (yes it's YOU @dootznbootz) infected my brain with them :)

Athena knew of Penelope before Odysseus, as she is the patron of Sparta and has been watching the Spartan royal lineage for the longest time.

Weaving is Athena's love language, and she weaved with Penelope a lot as the princess grows up. Don't tell Artemis and Persephone this, but Athena enjoys this activity with Penelope more because she is actually skilled with it and is delightful to teach.

In the Hyacinthia festival, women would offer their woven chiton to Apollo. Athena would not shut up about how Penelope's chiton is the prettiest out of the bunch and Apollo rolled his eyes like, "Yeah, yeah, I know your human is the best weaver. How about I give you her chiton???"

Aside weaving, Athena also trained Penelope in sport and some fighting skills. As a girl, Penelope isn't required to undergo heavy military training, but she still must participate in physical training to stay fit.

They play a lot of petteia (an ancient Greek board game). Penelope is smart but never stood a chance against the goddess of wisdom herself, but she's too competitive to give up. Athena very much indulged her lmao

They talked about their family a lot, from their sisters' silly frolics to their brothers' stupid antics. Penelope is one of the few who knows how much of a gossiper Athena actually is.

Mutual understanding over bystander's guilt. Athena witnessed Persephone getting kidnapped as a young goddess and Penelope saw Helen getting stolen away as a child. Both failed to save them and had dreamt of being able to do something, anything to stop the tragedy.

Silly arguments about whether saltwater or freshwater is better between half-Naiad Penelope and half-Oceanid Athena (Metis was an Oceanid and Athena had lots of connection with the ocean)

One time Athena took Penelope to the mouth of the Eurotas River at the Laconian Gulf to settle the debate by swimming and... taste testing the water.

They finally found a common ground in deciding that the brackish water at estuaries isn't actually as great as they thought. And so they decided to respect each other's opinion.

In another universe where Odysseus never came to Sparta, Athena welcomes Penelope to become her priestess.

Despite not having the best relationship with Aphrodite, Athena still brings herself to ask the goddess for tips and helps on how to matchmake Penelope with Odysseus when she found out her two pets are smitten with each other.

"Do you think I just start a fight between them so they get to speak directly?" - "Athena, sweetie, just no."

A lot of people joke about Athena thinking Odysseus gave birth to Telemachus via his head because that's how she was born, but we don't talk much about Athena's potential hidden trauma of her father swallowing her mother before that.

Even though Athena knows Odysseus would rather die than hurt Penelope, there's a tingling intrusive thought at the back of her head that she should keep an eye just to ensure the smallest of chance wouldn't happen.

When Penelope went into labor, Athena dragged Artemis to support her. The composed goddess lowkey panicked when her pet human is giving birth lol

Penelope called Athena by her epithet "Soteira" (Saviour) two times in her life: when Helen was stolen by Theseus and when Helen was taken by Paris which led to Odysseus having to leave for war.

It was a half desperate cry for help, half bitter sarcasm that The Saving Goddess could not save those whom she claimed to watch over, and not to mention Athena was part of the Golden Apple drama that eventually led to Helen being given to Paris.

Athena was immensely guilty for having a hand in the events that led to Penelope having to watch her husband depart for war and Telemachus having to grow up without a father. She tried to spend as much time where she wasn't participating in the war as possible to help out Penelope in raising Telemachus, basically becoming a temporarily stand-in parent for the boy.

Another reason for Athena's constant involvement in Telemachus' upbringing is that, deep down, she didn't want the boy to grow up half-orphaned like she was.

Penelope asked Athena why she didn't make the suitors suddenly choke on their food and die. Athena replied (for the 7635th time) that her father is the Lord of Xenia and her doing so would not please him.

Penelope: We can stage it like an accident.

Athena: I already told you, I cannot violate my father's domain!

Penelope: You started a rebellion against your father but draw the line at making a guest die because it'll disrespect him???

Athena: ... Be quiet.

[mysterylover123]

Watching G1 Transformers "Masquerade"

Optimus is gonna need one hell of an icepack.

Screamer is back! Damn I was getting worried for him. No mention of the 'attempted murder' bit, so I guess we'll just forget it.

Fandom informs me that the Stunticons are fairly well-liked characters, so I will try and learn their names lol (be patient w/me, there's like ten million characters in this franchise and I'm new)

Megs why are you stealing rubies. Do you just want to look fabulous?

Holy shit OP that looked like it HURT. What the hell is Optimus made of he just took a headbutt from a Con his own size and walked off.

Wow the bots are gonna impersonate the stunt icons!? So that's why the episode has that name!

Breakdown - the one name I kind of know now - breaks them out of prison haha. Also damn I would NOT want to be fighting the autobots, look at those cells. Megs is braver than I am.

"Out on bad behavior" haha OK I see why people like these guys.

Screamer IMMEDIATELY notices something's up, Megs ignores him, because of that he will fail. It is the law of the g1 Transformers show.

Optimus you are a terrible actor. The only reason you aren't caught here is that Megs is kind of a moron.

They have the goofiest "Which one is the real one" fight. I love how hilariously confused everyone is. Also are the Stunticons basically newborn kids at this point!? Are Transformers just born fully operational? Or do I need to call Child Labor Laws on both leaders now?

The damn weapon once again completely gyps Megs on the Ultimate Power deal. He really needs to get some better super weapons.

Wow and it just blows up. Seriously OP you don't even have to stop this guy he screws himself over all on his own.

And even Soundwave dumps Megs for his stupidity in this episode. That's when you KNOW he fucked up.

OH WAIT op actually DID trick him. Wow. Optimus you're actually like, a genius kind of? Damn that was some good thinking.

[maxdibert]

I’m not a fan of the marauders or Snape. I prefer hjp generation compared to them. Reason for that is everyone’s obsessed with swm, and is over thinking it. I need more context than one scene to form an opinion on a person and since we didn’t get that I’m not into the marauders era. I don’t think the marauders were good people nor do I think Snape was. They were all grey characters. I grew up with 4 brothers and mainly male cousins, who are a lot older than me. I remember them getting detention for pulling other’s pants down in the hallways and doing other stupid shit you couldn’t get away with today. I never understood it then and don’t understand it today, but back then it wasn’t considered that big of a deal. I personally don’t think Snape ever viewed that as sa, it was his wm because he was embarrassed and called Lily a racial slur that basically ended their friendship. What we say or do today will be labelled as something else by the next couple of generations. It’s like watching the show Friends, a lot of things they say will make our generations jaws drop, but millennials and gen x find it hilarious and nothing wrong with it. As readers and from Harry’s pov James was a hero everyone loved, after swm Harry was disturbed saw his father as more of a grey character, and had more empathy for Snape. In the end hjp made mistakes, but he was a better person than Snape and the marauders could ever be.

But the thing is, you're saying we don’t have more information when we actually do. It’s canon that James and Sirius hexed people in the hallways just because they felt like it. It’s canon that they used forbidden spells on random people. It’s canon that James lies to Lily, telling her he’s stopped bullying people, but keeps going after Snape behind her back. So it’s not just one scene, there’s more information. And besides, you don’t need to be shown a character’s everyday life to know what they were like. When a character is recurring or a side character, the author gives you specific information to paint a picture. It’s not necessary, narratively, to dig deep into their psychology: you get a few brushstrokes because that’s all you need, and that’s what the author wants you to know about them. And Rowling makes it very clear in that scene what James was like. It’s a way for Harry to deconstruct the myth of his father and realize that, no matter how loved he was by others or the fact that he’s his dad, he could still be a piece of shit.

Then there’s the whole “it was a different time” argument, which honestly doesn’t work for me. I criticize Rowling for having a pretty racist and stereotypical view of certain characters, just like I criticize her view of women. I don’t care if “in her time blah blah blah,” because the reality is that regardless of what was normalized thirty, forty, or fifty years ago, if something is wrong, it’s wrong. Women weren’t allowed to vote for a long time, was that okay because it was “of its time”? Gay people were subjected to electroshock therapy until fairly recently, was that fine because it fit the context? Is slavery justifiable because of the time period? The Inquisition? Apartheid? The lack of labor rights? If we accept that kind of simplistic and deterministic thinking that leaves no room for self-criticism, then basically any atrocity can be justified depending on the era and context. And no, you can explain something by its historical context, but that doesn’t mean it stops being what it is. Do you know how many women have been systematically raped because, for a long time, people didn’t even acknowledge that sexual abuse could exist within marriage? So should we just let that go because it was “of the time”? And the worst part is, in many countries, there’s still no legislation around sexual abuse in relationships, this is something current.

There are also so many abuse victims who don’t even realize they’re being abused — regardless of the type — and does that make it any less abuse, or mean it doesn’t exist? It doesn’t work that way. There are people who’ll tell you they have a “good” job and that everything’s fine, and they’re clearly under abusive labor conditions without realizing it.

I think there’s a real problem in this fandom, which is basically a huge lack of humanistic education. I don’t know if it’s because there are so many different cultural contexts, and of course, each one comes with its own assumptions and frameworks for evaluating certain situations. But I’m honestly realizing more and more that people justify things that, for someone like me — who’s been involved in political and legal work for years — are honestly shocking to see excused. Like, they’ll villainize actions that are pretty minimal compared to others that actually reflect real-world systemic issues. But anyway, that’s just me rambling. What I really want to say is that context and circumstances matter a lot. I don’t know what your siblings or cousins are like, but it’s not the same if you’re messing around with a friend and pull down their pants after they slap you on the head — like, you’re just being dumb and your dynamic includes that kind of rough teasing — compared to choking someone you consistently bully, stripping them in front of a crowd against their will just to humiliate them, and then not letting them go, like, keeping them there for who knows how long. It’s not the same. When we evaluate crimes, it’s not just about the act itself — it’s about the entire context: Was there a pattern of aggression and abuse? What was the relationship with the perpetrator? Had something similar happened before? Was the relationship good or bad? Could the victim defend themselves? Were they in a position to fight back? Was it balanced or was there a power imbalance? There are a lot of elements that make up a case of abuse, and I feel like in this fandom people either don’t understand that, or aren’t educated enough to understand it, or have certain cultural frameworks that prevent them from seeing it, I’m not really sure. But I’m honestly just tired of having to explain all of this in what feels like aramaic to get the point across.

[bitethedemon]

Daggers, Poison, and Shiny Things (Lucanis x Reader x Illario): Chapter 1

Next Chapter ->

Link to this fic on AO3

Tags: Slow burn, De Riva Reader, Eventual Smut, Messy Love Triangles

Fic summary: You lost everything in Rivain: your family, your home, and your hopes of ever becoming a seer. Treviso offered you revenge, but you were not prepared for the loneliness you would find amongst the Crows. The busiest assassin in Antiva became your only friend. That is, until he died and left you alone to pick up the pieces of yourself and his devastated cousin.

Imagine then, that your dead old flame shows up after a year, very much alive, with a very loud demon at his side and a hot new boss, while you have to explain that you are now dating his cousin. Don't you just hate it when that happens?

(A really messy Lucanis/Named!Reader/Illario love triangle set in Treviso. Lucanis/Rook isn't the main relationship, but reader is jealous as fuck about them)

You had been called River amongst the Crows for so long that you had almost forgotten your real name. It had been a stupid joke from when you were just a fledgling that had stuck. ‘The Rivaini de Riva’ had at some point turned into ‘River de Riva’, and that became who you were. Viago would always say that you were just as unruly as your namesake too.

Viago had found you in a sanctuary for the poor in Treviso five years ago.

…well…

That was the official story you had been ordered to tell the others and especially Teia. The real story was that he found you in a whorehouse. You were barely a human being by the time he found you. You had spent months in captivity by the Antaam.

They had burned down your village, killed everyone, and taken everything from you. They brought you with them to Treviso, but they were unsure what to do with you. It was bad luck to kill a seer, though the same superstition had not bothered them when they killed your grandmother, your mother, and all of your sisters.

However, you were not going to point out the flaws in their logic or tell them that you never got to finish your training. You needed to stay alive so you could get your revenge.

You used your time wisely. The elders of your village had always praised you for being observant, and by the gods you were going to mentally note down every word your captors said, how they said them, were they went, when they came to your cell, when they left, when they took a shit. Everything.

Viago kept an eye on you in the meantime and when they gave you over to the whorehouse, he swept in and presented revenge to you on a silver platter. The information you gave over to the Crows resulted in the downfall of the camp that had taken you. You became a de Riva that same day.

The Antivan Crows had not forgotten that the organization had roots stemming from the Chantry though. It was a tough pill for a lot of the Crows to swallow. They looked at you and saw a savage witch that spoke to demons and let spirits possess her. You did not fit in.

Even worse, you were utter shit with a dagger, much to the dismay of Viago. You were hopeless as a fledgling. Viago even hired mages to teach you more ‘appropriate’ magic, such as the way of the Spellblades, but with no luck.

You were no good at following orders either, having never been used to taking orders from a man because of the matriarchal society in Rivain. It was driving Viago up the wall. The two of you were constantly fighting and it was a wonder that he did not give up on you entirely.

He stopped your training after you had learned the mere basics. Instead, you took to poison-making. That was what you found out that you were good at, so you were left to do just that. You liked that better anyway. You were left to do what you were good at, and Viago did not get grey hair prematurely. Everyone was happy.

Except most of the other Crows, of course. They still kept their distance from you, though it mattered less when you were free to keep mostly to yourself. You had your own little laboratory to study and make poisons for everyone else in.

That was how you met Lucanis.

Lucanis was barely ever around. Being the most expensive assassin the Crows had to offer, he was always busy. You had never even met him until he was one day standing beside you in your laboratory. You had jumped at his presence and almost dropped a vial of wyvern poison on the floor.

“Three vials of Quiet Death, please,” he said politely. “If you’re not busy, of course. I can wait.”

You had blinked at him in confusion. No one ever came into your space except Viago.

“I’m…sorry…who are you?” you asked.

“Oh, forgive me,” he said and bowed his head slightly. “Lucanis Dellamorte. I have a difficult time keeping track of who I have met and not.”

“Oh,” you said quietly and looked him over. “You’re…yeah. I’m River. Sorry. Usually people go through Viago, instead of coming in here…”

“Why?” he asked plainly without a shred of judgment in his voice. “Quiet Death is a simple poison, no?”

Because they all hate me, so Viago hides me away here.

“Because…” you began. You had no answer that didn’t sound pathetic, so you changed the subject. “We are out of Deathroot, unfortunately, but I can make you something else.”

You began looking through the supplies.

“Do you have a weight estimate on your targets?”

He thought for a moment before giving surprisingly specific estimates. It was great to hear someone who knew what they were doing. If you had a gold coin for each time you had heard ‘small’, ‘average’, or ‘big’ as a weight estimate, you would have been a rich woman. Every question you asked was given a detailed answer by him.

He watched you closely as you were working, as if trying to figure out what you were doing.

“What are you making?” he asked in a curious tone.

“It’s uh…a mix of things,” you admitted. “It’s a Rivaini recipe, but I’m improvising a bit since I don’t have all the ingredients. Don’t worry though. It will work.”

“Oh, are you the Rivaini that Viago keeps talking about?”

You gave a tight smile and a small nod.

“That’s me,” you mumbled.

“Your name is River de Riva?” he asked with an amused smile that belied image of the serious master assassin that she had heard so much about. “He is going insane, you know? I have heard him describe you with many colorful phrases.”

“He does that,” you mumbled and carefully dripped the toxin into the vial you were working on.

“He says you can’t fight, but it seems you are good at this,” Lucanis said and watched the careful movements of your hands. “Did he teach you?”

“Well, first of all,” you protested slightly and put a lid on the vial to shake it. “I can fight…just not in any way that he finds acceptable. Secondly, no, poison-making was a part of my training back in my village. Viago just showed me which ones the Crows specifically use, since he doesn’t like me using the Rivaini ones that work perfectly fine. Which is why I never made you this.”

You handed him the first vial.

“Understood,” he said with a smile.

You began shaking the next one and then shook your head.

“Sorry for ranting,” you said. “I rarely get the opportunity.”

“It’s fine,” he said and studied the liquid in the vial. “You promise me that this will work?”

“It will.”

You handed him another vial and shook the last one.

“You said you received training before joining us,” he said. “As what?”

You froze for a second. The conversation was going so well, and this man seemed so nice, and now you were going to ruin it. You were sure of it. You sighed quietly.

“As a seer,” you replied reluctantly. “Though I never finished my training.”

“A seer?” he asked. “Interesting. Why did you stop?”

You look over his face for any trace of judgment. You found none. It took you by surprise.

“I didn’t.”

His brow furrowed ever so slightly at your reply. He didn’t understand. You handed him the last vial.

“My home was destroyed, and my family were killed by the Antaam,” you explained, trying your hardest to not to sound like a sad, pathetic mess. “Seer training can take almost a lifetime, and it’s taught by the women of your family. I am the only one left, so I will never finish my studies…”

His dark eyes softened when he heard, as if the words had hurt him to hear. There was some recognition of pain in his eyes, and you would only understand much later where it came from. He bowed his head slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

He mumbled his thanks for the poisons and promptly left the laboratory. You mentally hit yourself over the head for the entire day for opening up in that way to him.

A couple of days later you found a history book on Rivaini seers on the table in the laboratory when you came in in the morning. It would not help you finish your training, but you appreciated the thought more than anything.

That was the beginning of your relationship with him. You quickly learned that Lucanis was a crow in the literal sense: he left gifts and shiny things. That was his love language. He was not good at talking about his own feelings, though he did not mind talking about yours when the need arose. Lucanis did everything for you to not feel alone.

Half of the things he brought you, you had no idea how he even got his hands on. He would not tell you either. He always brushed away your gratitude. In the beginning it was mostly gifts that he insisted that he had simply stumbled upon. Later, the gifts became more personal. He even learned to cook Rivaini food just for you, which he would bring when he visited.

You adored him. It was hard not to, even though you knew he was simply being nice and that him being a Dellamorte meant that anything beyond friendship was no more than a naïve dream. Family was more important than anything to Lucanis, and he would be damned if you did not feel like you belonged to one, even though he seemed to be the only willing member for a while.

Eventually, more and more of the Crows started accepting you, simply because Lucanis did. You were introduced properly to Illario as well. You had always seen Illario as a rude bastard, but because of his cousin’s interest in you, he began warming up to you too. Illario eventually began flirting despite Lucanis’ interest in you. Or perhaps because of Lucanis’ interest, you realized later.

Either way, Lucanis was not fond of the situation, but he never said anything other than a few friendly warnings to you about how Illario treats women. Lucanis obviously cared and at the end of his life it only became even more obvious.

There had been an event at Villa Dellamorte that someone of your rank would never have attended had it not been because you were friends with Caterina’s grandson. Lucanis, Illario, and you sneaked off to the wine cellar sometime during the evening. At the end of the night, Illario and you were drunk and Lucanis was tipsy too.

You only remembered the night in fragments. You know that Illario flirted relentlessly with you that evening. You didn’t want Illario, but in your drunken stupor, perhaps you reciprocated. You weren’t sure. You only remembered that Lucanis was uncomfortable, torn between not wanting to be there and not trusting Illario enough to leave you alone with him.

You vaguely remembered Illario chuckling into your ear and then feeling his lips on your neck. It was when his hand ran up your thigh that you remembered sobering up and flinching slightly.

“I think I should get you home, River,” Lucanis had said and promptly gotten up from his chair.

You felt Illario huff against your neck before leaving a small bite there. You moved away from his touch.

“Why?” Illario asked and turned his head to look at Lucanis. “We are just having fun.”

“Illario…” Lucanis said firmly.

“She doesn’t want to go home, do you, River?” Illario said and put his arm over your shoulders. “Just a little seer possessed by spirits,” he joked with a smile and looked at Lucanis. “If you are tired, you can go. I will be sure she gets home safe.”

Lucanis looked directly at you.

“Do you want to go home?”

You nodded and got up. You stumbled slightly and Lucanis offered an arm for you to lean on. You did not even have to look back to see the hateful look Illario gave him. You could practically feel the tension in the air.

“You always get what you want, don’t you, Lucanis?” Illario said with disdain. “As if your intentions are any purer than mine.”

Then Illario mumbled something in Antivan that you did not quite catch, but Lucanis certainly did. There came a low growl of anger from him, and he led you to the staircase up and out of the wine cellar before turning to Illario.

“Go upstairs,” he said to you. “I will be with you in a moment.”

You stumbled up the stairs. The second you closed the door you could hear them arguing loudly in what was no doubt very colorful language. You had never heard Lucanis like that before.

When he came up and started to lead you home, he was deadly quiet for the longest time. It made you slightly nervous and you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“Are you..mad?” you asked, slightly slurring the words.

“Yes,” he answered curtly.

Another long pause of silence.

“At…me?”

“No, River,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “Not at you. At Illario. He acts like a child sometimes.”

You nodded and looked at his face as the two of you walked, trying to figure out what he was thinking. You often did without much luck. He noticed you staring and gave you a gentle smile.

“Not far now,” he said.

You kept walking. When you got to your house, you gave him the key. You could barely look straight. He unlocked the door for you to enter. When you saw the staircase up to your room, you gave a deep sigh. Lucanis took the hint and helped you up to your room.

“I didn’t mean to, you know,” you mumbled. “For that to happen, I mean. I don’t—”

Lucanis quickly caught you before you fell backwards down the stairs. He mumbled something in Antivan and held you by your waist from behind like a parent trying to teach a child to walk.

“I don’t even like Illario,” you said, continuing your drunken babbling. “I should have done something…”

“It’s not your fault,” he said and helped you up the final steps.

He opened the door to your room and sat you down on your bed. You looked up at him.

“Thank you for getting me home,” you said. “And even bringing me in the first place. I’m sorry it became such a mess.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” he insisted and pulled the blanket on the bed aside for you to get in. “It’s nothing.”

“You always say that,” you protested. “It means the world to me. Everything you do. I need you to know that.”

He gave you a smile.

“You are drunk, River,” he said and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Can I trust that you won’t throw yourself down the stairs in the middle of the night?”

“I don’t want Illario,” you mumbled.

“You have already said that.”

“I want you.”

His eyes softened at your drunken admission. He looked over your face in almost comical confusion, as if it had not been the most obvious thing in the world that you liked him. His eyes flicked to your lips for a second and you leaned forward.

“No,” he said gently and put his hand on your shoulder to stop you. “No, no. None of that.”

Your heart sank and you must have looked like a beaten puppy to him. His rejection was a knife in your heart. You felt ridiculous for even thinking that might have been where things were going. He gently brushed his hand over your hair.

“Not like this,” he said gently. “Goodnight, River.”

He squeezed your shoulder and left.

You had kept on replaying that night over and over in your head. The mental hangover had been insane. It did not help that you did not hear from him for about a week after. When he finally came, it was early in the morning, and he sneaked up on you in your laboratory. You weren’t sure what to say when you saw him.

You tried to say something, to get any word out of your mouth, but without any luck. You became even more speechless when he walked right up to you.

“I have been thinking,” he said. “Since last time.”

At least five excuses were already at the tip of your tongue, waiting to spill out in a jumbled mess.

“Did you mean it?” he asked gently.

The excuses died on your tongue before they could ever make it out. You couldn’t lie. Not to him. You swallowed hard and nodded, readying yourself for another rejection. It never came.

Instead, he looked at you with those warm eyes of his and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

You froze completely for a long moment. When he broke the kiss, you finally snapped back into reality and leaned in to kiss him again properly. Your heart hammered in your chest. You felt truly alive for the first time since you arrived in Treviso.

It was only a week later that he died.

You were inconsolable. To have everything taken from you, just to be given a sliver of light in your life and then have it be taken away again. The only other person you could talk to who would understand was Illario, who was trying his hardest to drink himself to death. You and Illario found an odd solace in each other during that time.

Though even when you started dating him, it did not fill the hole in your heart of losing Lucanis.

In the evenings you would sneak off to read all the books Lucanis’ had given you on seer magic. You learned to contact spirits, but you could not find the one spirit that you wanted to talk to. Needed to talk to.

This obsession only made you feel even worse. You were Illario’s now, but even then, you were still obsessed with the man who he had been forced to compete with his entire life. Even in death, Illario lived in Lucanis’ shadow. The guilt kept you up some nights, but you could just not let him go. There was no closure.

It had been over a year now.

You were hunched over a tome on seer family lines in the laboratory, when you really should have been working instead. You kept reading the books he had given you. You weren’t sure why. Perhaps, you simply felt as if it was a way to honor him.

“River,” you heard softly from behind you.

You quickly shut the book closed and stashed it under a shelf. You fiddled with some equipment, so it looked like you had been working.

“What do you need, Illario?” you asked.

“River,” the voice called again.

It sounded odd. As if he was sick or something. The tone was all wrong. He sounded like Lucanis, you realized.

You felt a hand on being laid softly on your shoulder and you turned around. You turned white as a sheet and time seemed to stop.

You clasped your hands over your mouth and your legs gave in. You slid down to the floor and looked up at him. You couldn’t breathe. You frantically reached out to touch his leg to check if he was solid or just a figment of your imagination, and then you sobbed.

He crouched down and you clung to him.

“I thought—”

“I know,” Lucanis said and squeezed your arm.

As you were crying your eyes out, a grating, hissing voice flowed through your ears all of a sudden.

“Smells like earth. Poison roots and wyvern spit.”

Your eyes darted up and widened. Behind Lucanis stood a copy of him with grey skin and eyes that glowed purple. You knew immediately what that was. It smiled at you.

“Seer!” the demon said with excitement. “She sees. Hears…”

Your mouth fell slightly agape. Lucanis looked at you.

“You can see him?” he asked urgently.

“By the gods, Lucanis…” you mumbled quietly and looked into his eyes. “Who did this to you?”

“Help us. Now,” the demon said.

[scarletwritesshit]

📏 Dr. Ratio x Reader 📏 If I were Smart, I Would've Titled This with a Math Pun

This wasn’t the sort of rigorous stimulation that you were hoping for, but it was Dr. Ratio who suggested it, so you couldn’t exactly expect anything different. You blinked at the page that was laid out before you, dumbfounded. The problem on the page was rather complex even by your standards, almost as if it were written in some otherworldly script, which had a fair chance of being true. No worries, just break it down piece by piece to solve it? All...seemingly one thousand parts of it.

Dr. Ratio stood across from you, staring directly at you while tapping his foot on the ground with his arms crossed. You were quite surprised that he had not yet donned his stone-faced disguise, and quite frankly, you wish that he had. He was eyeing you up with a gaze that just screamed, "I could’ve had this solved 20 times by now, incompetent idiot." Which, was probably true.

It took a painfully long time, but at long last, you solved it, or at least you thought that you did. Your fingers went limp and released the pen from your hand, letting it almost roll off of the desk. You laid your head face down on the desk after circling the answer with a thick yet scribbly circle, emphasizing the results of your treacherous labor. At the sound of Dr. Ratio’s footsteps getting louder, you looked up at him to still see the same glint of disappointment in his eyes.

"I take it that you have reached your final conclusion?" he asked.

Without saying a word out of fear of premature judgement, you pushed yourself up from the desk so that he may freely observe and critique your work.

He skimmed over every extra page of your work quite rapidly, and in what felt like mere seconds, he pulled out a red pen and promptly marked your paper.

"Zero marks," he said bluntly, writing a massive red X over your answer.

You had a sinking feeling from the start that this was your inevitable fate, but hearing the actual words from him somehow stung a lot worse.

"In fact, I do not believe that I have ever seen anyone mess up so…horribly," he commented. "In fact, there are mistakes within mistakes, all among the most preposterous that I have ever seen in my life."

"...Thanks?" you said, as personally having the honor of making the most mistakes that Dr. Ratio has ever seen was better than your efforts simply being disregarded.

"My words were not intended to be interpreted as compliments, but rather, as a degradation of your overall performance and attitude towards your studies.”

"So?" you said, indifferent, "I’m still thankful that you spared some of your precious time to personally put me down."

"There must be something deeply wrong with your cognitive functions," he said, twirling his pen around between his fingers, "for I have never seen anyone quite enthusiastic about insult and utter disappointment."

"There are far easier ways to call me stupid, you know," you said, mockingly.

"Is your intelligence truly so challenged to the point that you cannot comprehend my direct words without the most basic of forms being utilized within a sentence? Why, you could not solve the simplest of problems if I asked of you!"

"You think I’m that dumb? Want me to prove it?"

"Oh, I believe you plenty, but since you proposed the offer, might I ask you for your interpretation of the answer to one added onto three?"

"I’m dumb, remember? Simple terminology, please," you said.

Despite his usage of overly complicated roundabout terminology, you knew exactly what he was asking of you. He was asking you to add 1 and 3 together. A simple question that anyone, even someone with your abilities could answer with ease. But, you wanted to see just how far you could push Dr. Ratio, before he caught onto your methods of toying with him. His patience was impressive enough considering how by now, you would’ve expected him to simply mark your paper with a failing score and walk off without another word.

With a noticeable twitch of frustration in his eyes, Dr Ratio said, "Fine, what is one plus three?"

"Five," you said, quickly and confidently.

"Are you positive that that is your final answer?"

You nodded yes. Dr. Ratio, no longer holding back his annoyance, leaned in closer and lifted your chin up with the back of his pen, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"You cannot possibly look me in the eyes and say that so…matter-of-factly," he said, frustrated.

"Oh, but I can,” you said with a smile. “And I just did."

"It is arguably a miracle how you have made it this far, not just in your studies, but in life as a whole. The fact that you fail to comprehend the most basic of tasks when I personally made the decision to allow you to study beneath me is well beyond my comprehension."

"Really? I was led to believe that you knew everything."

"It is physically impossible for one who is temporarily existent to learn all that our universe has to offer. Your stupidity, however, stretches even beyond the limits of our universe.”

"You’re saying that I’m so stupid that I’ve managed to become incomprehensible? Even to you?" you said with a proud grin.

"Regrettably, yes," he said, allowing the pen to fall down between his fingers, freeing his hand so that he could hold your chin up, "unless I perhaps study you for myself?"

"Study me? What is there to study, if I am as empty-headed as you claim?"

"How someone with intelligence comparable to a warp trotter has made it this far."

"But warp trotters’ lives don’t involve solving math problems, or whatever you’d call what you gave me."

"Which is why it is so baffling that you have made as much progression in your life as you have," he said, his grip tightening around your chin. "If it were anybody else, I would have promptly excluded you from my teachings."

"Anybody else?" you asked, tilting your head. "You mean, you’re going through all of this just for me?"

Dr Ratio went silent for a moment, and the grip that he had on your chin became a bit gentler. His eyes narrowed, yet his overall expression became softer. He seemed to be at a complete loss for an appropriate response to your claim. Either he was so baffled at your stupidity that he couldn’t quite find the words to express his annoyance, or you simply caught him off guard and red handed. The latter seemed more likely, as if your suggestion was truly so preposterous, he wouldn’t have wasted the time in putting you down.

"...A most fascinating conclusion," he finally said.

"Sounds like I got you now."

"I do have to applaud you for deciphering me in such a way, despite how you greatly lack otherwise."

"And after all of that, you still think Im an idiot? The answer to your question is four, by the way."

"Did it truthfully take you such an extended period of time to arrive at the correct answer?"

"No, I knew all along."

Knowing how he was the one outsmarted now, Dr. Ratio accepted defeat with grace, and laughed a little at his defeat. It wasn’t a laughter intended to put either of you down, but rather, a genuine expression of amusement, perhaps at himself for allowing such a situation to become so comedically blown out of proportion.

"Toying with me as a jest, I see. I will admit, it was rather clever of you to do in such a way, yet I still feel the need to observe you further."

"That is an unusual way of saying that you want to spend more time with me," you said with a laugh.

"Perhaps, but if it was nothing more than a jest, does this mean that you do not require my assistance with the problem before you? It seems an awful lot of effort to put into feigning intelligence, or lack thereof."

You lifted your face up from his hand and turned to look at the papers on your desk, with a large red X marked on your answer on one of the sheets. Right. You had completely forgotten about that.

“No…that I actually put my best effort into.”

“I shall see that you put your best effort forward into it during our second attempt together,” Dr. Ratio said, walking behind your chair. “Now, let us start fresh.”

He instructed you to tidy up your initial attempt and set it off to the side while he took out a fresh sheet of paper with a problem identical to the one you previously attempted on your own. He reached for the pen that was still dangling at the edge of the desk and laid it parallel to the side of the paper. As he loomed over you, you thought that he would be behind you the entire time, having to hear him critique every little mistake you make directly against your ear.

Your assumption was proven half correct when he leaned over you, placing his hands on opposite sides of you and practically pinning you to the desk. You looked to your side to see his face directly at your shoulder, able to feel his every breath against your face. Dr. Ratio smiled with an enthusiasm that seemed far too great to be suited to the likes of a basic education.

“Now then,” he whispered, “let us try our first time together.”

[thecreaturecodex]

Garl

"A Very Harryhausen Halloween: Part 5" © Robert Squier, accessed at his website here

[The garl from basic D&D is not a very interesting monster. It's a giant caveman with 6 HD and no special abilities, and no flavor text except "hey, these guys are really really stupid. They do +4 damage with weapons. And sometimes have uncut gems". But I knew I wanted to cover it? Why? Well, I have a fondness for scientifically inaccurate cavemen as monsters. So much so that I invented an entire subtype for them, the pilts. And Ray Harryhausen's troglodyte, from Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, is a monster that's been on my "I should cover one day" radar for a long, long time. But the name "troglodyte" is taken in D&D and Pathfinder (even if Pathfinder has to call them xulgaths now) So this is a syncretic entry. Using the garl's name and HD as a basis to do a Harryhausen Trog.]

Garl CR 5 CN Humanoid (giant) This humanoid has gray leathery skin and a simian face, with a horn growing from the center of the forehead. It is clad in crude fur garments and clutches a tree branch as a club.

Garls are oversized, horned humanoids related to pilts and their kin. Unlike most members of this lineage, garls are not strongly predisposed to violence. They are hunters of megafauna, spending their lives tracking herds of mastodons, giant sloth, woolly rhino or other primeval beasts. As such, they are more likely to view other humanoids as curiosities rather than prey. Garls are incredibly social creatures, as they know that cooperation within their bands is what keeps them alive. On the one hand, this means that a garl found alone is likely to befriend travelers, including adventuring parties or caravans, in order to form a surrogate clan. On the other hand, that means that they are somewhat naive and prone to exploitation; many garls found in “civilized” lands are as enslaved laborers or soldiers.

Garls fight naturally with clubs, stones and their own natural weapons. Both male and female garls have horns, which are made of keratin like the horn of a rhinoceros (some unscrupulous merchants with enslaved garls have been known to shave it off and sell garl horn as rhino horn). Garl strategy is crude but effective—typically, a single garl will attempt to bait a foe into charging it, braces its horn against the charge, and then its fellow garls surround and beat down the opponent. Garls can combine assisting their allies with furious shouts and displays of strength.

Garl material culture is limited. They can make weapons out of stone and wood, and often wear furs as both protection and trophies of especially memorable hunts. Garls have not mastered fire, but value it extensively—fires are collected from lightning strikes or other natural events, or even stolen from other humanoids, and then carefully guarded by garls whose community role is as fire-tender. Some of these fire-tenders are magically gifted; garls that can cast spells are rare, and usually druids. Garls are awed by long distance projectile weapons such as bows and arrows, and take well to their use if trained.

Garl CR 5 XP 1,600 CN Large humanoid (giant, pilt) Init +0; Senses low-light vision, Perception +5

Defense AC 17, touch 9, flat-footed 17 (-1 size, +6 natural, +2 armor) hp 51 (6d8+24) Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +5

Offense Speed 40 ft. Melee Large club +7 (1d8+4), slam +5 (1d6+2), gore +5 (1d6+2) or 2 slams +7 (1d6+4), gore +7 (1d6+4) Ranged Large club +3 (1d8+4) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks brace, bullying aid

Statistics Str 19, Dex 11, Con 18, Int 5, Wis 13, Cha 10 Base Atk +4; CMB +9; CMD 19 Feats Cleave, Intimidating Prowess, Multiattack (B), Power Attack Skills Intimidate +8, Perception +5, Survival +6; Racial Modifiers +4 Survival Languages Piltish

Ecology Environment temperate and cold plains and hills Organization solitary, band (2-8) or clan (10-40 plus 50% noncombatant young) Treasure standard (leather armor, 2 Large clubs, other treasure)

Special Attacks Brace (Ex) If a garl readies an action to attack a charging opponent with its gore attack, it deals double damage on a successful hit. Bullying Aid (Ex) When a garl takes an action to aid another’s attack roll or armor class, it can make an Intimidate check against the opponent it is aiding against.

[livefromthedas]

Surviving Purely Out Of Spite

By ClickClickBoom

(Also here on AAO3)

Chapter 4: Mummy and Daddy are Fighting

Summary:

Happy New Year, yah beauties. Have a new chapter.

Having Lucanis Dellamorte as a dedicated cook for their motley little team was both a blessing and a curse. True, most days it was a blessing - The man was exemplary in the kitchen, and enjoyed the relaxation the labor brought him. Even better, he had both exquisite (and expensive) taste in food and both the skills and, it seemed, the pocket book needed to make them a reality.

Then, of course, there were mornings like this, when the pressure they were under got to be just the right amount of “too much” and someone said or did something stupid. On days like these, Lucanis basically living in the dining hall meant a possible confrontation came between Rook and Food.

She took her sweet time readying for the day - A solid hour of cool-down time would do them both a favor, she reasoned. It was nearly ten by the time she strolled on into the hall.

Rook could tell the vibe was off the second she was in the room.

Most of the team was present and chatting away around the table - Davrin manned a chair nearest the door, one hand keeping hold of a toy that had Assan distracted and playing while he ate. Taash lounged at the far end, fully distracted by her bacon. Bellara, Neve and Harding, meanwhile, had clustered together on the other side of the table - The chattering between them snuffed the moment Rook came striding for her usual placement.

“Good morning!” Bellara smiled as Rook tucked in.

“We got word from Antoine and Evka overnight,” Davrin announced.

“And another letter from Kal-Sharok,” added Harding.

“Figured we can go over everything in the library after breakfast.” Davrin concluded.

Rook opened her mouth to reply when a plate of eggs and meats was thrust unceremoniously in front of her, with just a bit more force than necessary. More suspicious still, Lucanis didn’t say a word to her - just strode back to the stove.

“Oh,” Neve said with smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” Taash asked past her eggs.

The Detective bit at a manicured nail for a beat, before musing, “Mummy and Daddy are fighting.”

“Nobody’s fighting,” Lucanis said from the kitchen a little too quickly.

Rook had gotten distracted by the opening of the Dining Hall doors. Strife was here again - All ready? - trailed closely by Emmrich. Rook felt a gut check of worry - Was something wrong with the Veil Jumpers?

“We’re fine,” she said to the others, though clearly distracted. “Everything’s fine.”

“Right, what was I thinking?” Neve teased, “This is totally normal behavior.”

“You’re here early,” Rook reached to stop Strife on his way by, “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, I never left. Everything’s fine though,” Strife said nonchalantly.

Rook squirmed awkwardly the moment Strife was out of eyeshot, earning a giggle from Harding.

“Pay up,” Neve whispered to Davrin.

“Aaah,” the Grey Warden scoffed good-naturedly, before relinquishing a trio of sovereigns to Neve.

“I’m calling it,” Rook muttered. “Today is already a wash.”

She stood and beelined for a carafe of wine. By the time she returned to her seat, Strife and Emmrich were taking their own places at the table, plates of food in-hand.

Strife looked from the carafe to Rook and back, before stabbing at his breakfast with a fork, “Day drinking? Really?”

“Yeah,” Davrin mused, before leaning to pull the carafe out of reach, “We’re just going to not.”

Rook knocked back her glass of wine before Davrin could get to that too, and gave him a Look.

She would have gotten more irritated, had it not dawned on her that having people from both sides of her life be cautious around her drinking habits was probably not the best personal indictment. (Rook, famously, could not hold her liquor to save her life.)

Any joke Rook may have had in response to her companions’ laughter was distracted by the young Crow who stepped in through the Dining Hall doors. Rook recognized him as a Fledgeling from House Dellamorte - Valentín - who seemed to have become a point-person for transporting messages between Lucanis and the Cantori Diamond. Rook guessed he couldn’t be older than fourteen.

She watched curiously from her peripherals as Lucanis met the boy by the stairs, spoke briefly, before sending him back on his way.

“They have word on Illario,” he said simply as he sat beside Rook at the table.

Rook was actually surprised he was talking with her. She nudged a cup of coffee his way for good measure.

“You up for a trip to the Cobbled Swan?” He asked her from over his drink.

Rook crooked an eyebrow, “Why Minrathos and not Treviso?”

“Probably a contract. But, also, none of our business.”

“Fair enough,” Rook conceded. “Bellara, you have some time?”

Rook’s fellow Veil Jumper smiled sweetly. Much like Emmrich, she was always just delighted to be included, “Oh, you bet!”

———————-

Within the hour, Rook, Lucanis and Bellara were traipsing through knee-high grasses in the Crossroads, toward the Minrathos Eluvian. By then, Lucanis seemed to have finally shaken off the day’s rather stressful start.

“I mean, it’s kind of impressive,” Bellara was saying, “Spite doesn’t usually seem like the type who bothers to, you know… listen to people all that often.”

“He usually isn’t,” Lucanis admitted, before teasing at Rook’s expense, “And to be fair, it’s seems less impressive when you consider the trained killer woke up in a strange place next to a body he didn’t fall asleep with. I nearly slit her throat.”

“Oh,” Bellara gaped, “My goodness.”

“I mean…” Rook side-eyed the Crow, belly churning with nerves, but unable to resist a joke anyway, “It was kind of hot, though.”

Taken completely off guard by the comment, the assassin barked, nearly choking on a laugh.

“Yeah,” Lucanis admitted quietly a moment later, his attempt to stifle a smile doing little to hide the mischief in his eyes, “It kind of was… Meirda - We are not well.”

“Heyyyy,” Bellara piped up, waving awkwardly from behind them as they laughed, “Still here, guys.”

Rook stepped through the Eluvian completely cracking up.

[breadandlottery]

Hi so I wanted to ask about your Gihun/Inho analysis post if that’s ok? Curious if you don’t see Inho as the antagonist as it says in the last bit he’s adversary but not antagonist? Sorry if this will not make sense English is not my first!

Your English is great, don’t apologize! This is an excellent question, anon, and something that I’ve thought a bunch about. Sorry I’m about to ramble a bit here.

So. From an in-universe Watsonian perspective, I think sure, In-ho/Frontman can be viewed as an antagonist, especially in season 2. He’s the one that our hero is trying to get to, the one that he faces off with, etc.

From an outside Doylist perspective (in my opinion) he’s definitely not capital "T" The villain or The antagonist.

So there's this concept called the myth of meritocracy or the meritocratic illusion, that argues that in capitalist systems, the ability of those on the lower rungs of the social/economic ladder to move up or jump to a higher social class based on merit is not attainable for most people. This myth benefits the ruling class in several ways:

it implies that they have earned their place at the top.

it upholds the belief that those that are struggling economically are in that position due to their own failures and not because the ruling class is exploiting their labor and hoarding resources.

it gives people the illusion of opportunity if they just "work hard enough", which pushes people to devote their labor and resources to the system, ultimately benefitting the ruling class more than themselves.

it sows division among those not in the ruling class, and gives people permission to look down on anyone lower than themselves as lazy, unworthy, etc.

Given the benefits of upholding the myth, the ruling class propagandizes. In order for the propaganda to work and maintain the myth, some people from the lower rungs do need to move up, so the ruling class can tokenize them, and say “Look, it IS possible”, and so those that move up, even a little, pledge loyalty to the ruling class and help maintain the myth.

That’s what happened with In-ho (and the recruiter to a lesser extent), and In-ho was a prime candidate for tokenizing for two reasons:

He was in law enforcement. Without going all acab on here, law enforcement generally exists to maintain the assets and safety of the wealthy, even though those who work in law enforcement are not from a wealthy background. (If you hear cops call “class traitors” or the like, this is why)

His financial trouble was a result of his wife’s illness. Even though he himself was in the same predicament as the players he calls trash, he really believes that he is better than them, because he didn’t gamble away his money or go into debt because he was lazy, stupid, unemployed, etc. This is because he believes in the meritocracy, but believes that his circumstance was different and special and unfair and everyone else's was their own fault.

So In-ho believes the myth, and he upholds the myth and the oppressive system that perpetuates it. BUT, sadly, so do many many many people who are suffering under the same system. He’s ultimately a victim of capitalism, just like the other players, the guards, the recruiter, basically everyone who is *working* and not *watching*.

From out here in the Doylist world, none of those characters are the antagonists except the game creators and the VIP/game watchers.

I believe Gi-hun understands this-- this is what he meant in telling the recruiter that he is nothing more than their dog. So if he learns how In-ho became the Frontman, he'll see that In-ho is the same. Maybe the top dog, but still a dog.

This is also why I think In-ho will have some kind of, if not redemption, at least tragic epiphany, where he realizes that the way he's justified his actions and touted the "fairness" of the games is all bullshit, and that he's ultimately no better than the people he called horses and human trash. I want an Inspector Javert soliloquy from him, to be honest. Some redemption would be nice because I like him as a character and would want that for him, and the subplot with his brother kind of sets up the opportunity for him to sacrifice himself… but we’ll see.

(I’ve considered that this perspective on the antagonists could be taken even further to make the argument that those in the ruling class are ALSO just victims of the system, and the system itself is the antagonist that we need to overcome, but I honestly don’t have coherent thoughts on that, it’s kind of a nebulous idea to me that *feels* like it might be correct but I don’t have the words/knowledge to go into depth.)

Anyway yeah sorry for the dissertation, I think this is such a great question and something I thought A LOT about after watching season 2 for the second time. It has actually pushed me to be a lot more cognizant of this concept in the real world as well (and given the current climate in the US right now it’s been VERY hard to see some of the opposition as victims of the system and not villains… but I am trying because I believe that’s the only path to a better system).

[shoppinghauer]

My main issues with online feminism, which includes hispanic instagram (LatAm and Spain) and tumblr anglosphere (think Europe + USA sometimes Australia) are:

They think of non single women (married or with a bf) as the primary pick me in society. I dont doubt a lot of them priorize their man but also, the way feminist depict them as "brainwashed" is just childish. My main problem is that obscures the fact that you can priorize men even if you're not in a romantic relationship with them. Boymoms, male relatives such as brothers or fathers are constantly excused or justified just as much as romantic partners. Yet Ive barely see criticism against this. Whats more is that mothers are excused as if the pressure of maternity excuses throwing under the bus your own daughter (why is never the other way around?? Fucking over your son bc of your daughter). Even women have justified horrendous actions made by their male friends (trans or gay) in cases where there is no attraction involved. Just social leveraging.

Speaking of attraction. The way they talk about assault as being a result lf violent sexual desire aka pretth privilege doesnt exist because hot women are more attacked. This is by far the most imbecile of all takes. Assault and sexual violence are a result of control and domination, not attraction. The more vulnerable a woman is, the likelier she will be assaulted. This includes older women, girls, runaways, homeless, sick, disabled, immigrants, addicts and poor women. This has nothing to do with how you look and everything to do with how much will men get away with assaulting you. The fact ive read "are you saying elderly or poor women arent attractive" when talking about assault is proof that even among so called feminists, the idea that sexual violence stems from attraction is still ingrained. Stop it for the sake of god.

I know fish can't see water but american feminists really really ignore how much of their culture affects misogyny worldwide. The impact of the american worldview on misogyny is not little stuff. The consumerist, hollywoodesque point of view is native to the USA. American feminists call this "liberal feminism" to distance themselves from what is just plain american misogyny. This shitshow of "eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man" is a product of the american perspective of making everything a marketing campaing. This goes back to Max Revlon, Edward Bernays and other PR gurus who knew that the best way to make profit was to market everything. American feminists are limiting their analysis by thinking this is a matter of contradictory branches of feminism (lib vs rad) and not a matter of americanized misogyny. Lets remember radfem stems from marxism, the actual one not the tumblr version.

The way how no one actually read books but everyone wants to say something smart. From "capitalism of words" to "you can escape from labor exploitation by being a tradwife " everyone loves to post half assed essays who say stupid shit or not saying anything at all. Ive been accused of being a russian psyop, an spanish white woman with guilt, or even wishing rape on another woman just for stating sociology 101 points. Basic knowledge of marxism is a must if you call yourself a feminist. Im sorry but how else are you gonna understand women's oppression today (in a capitalist system) if you think tankies are psyops. Gimme a break, some of you are worse than breadtubers.

The lack of interest in women's news around the world. Basically if it isnt a major tragedy in Europe or USA or a fucked story about the Middle East (which for the majority, those countries are interchangeable, see: "if she's from Algeria why isnt she in a hijab" even tho Algeria is in Africa but whatever), no one cares about women. The North American continent got its first female president, Claudia Sheinbaum, and everybody in here was busy whining about a stupid pop princess poll bc a nobody TIM got the upperhand. Cmon. Spanish feminist were more preoccupied about a fat woman announcing New Year's Eve than the historical election of a woman in a hispanic country. And that is just the most egregious example.

If i think of anything else Ill add it but this is my experience as someone who has been on feminist circles for a decade.

[smellyidiot]

Hot take: Sovereign citizenship isn’t a stupid idea and it’s not a “white supremacist republican” ideology. The whole argument made against people who identify as a sovereign citizen is basically just “You don’t understand common laws, you’re one of those crazy redneck conspiracy theorists who believe in lizard people, and you didn’t pass high-school.” and it’s pretty much just all stereotypes. People who think SovCits are ‘crazy’ usually also follow up with “Who would you call if your house burnt down? Checkmate!” And i swear it just makes me want to bash my head into the nearest wall.

The point of being a sovereign citizen isn’t just being pessimistic and living off grid, The government quite literally has *always* been corrupt, like there is no doubt about it. From MK ultra, denying the people of north carolina medical assistance and aid after the hurricane, starting wars over oil and bombing schools, to blatant classism and pollution of the earth, all of these are tell tale signs of a corrupt government. And did i mention yet that if you even *try* to protest any of this bullshitery they just make it illegal to do so and will proceed to set a curfew down on your city? No? Well now i have.

The truth is, nobody wants to spend their lives as a modern slave working away until they retire at 60 just to pay to be able to live. I mean, there is literally a tax for trying to collect free rain water as if the government owns it. On top of this, there are never fruit trees out on your sidewalks because free food is bad for our made up green slips of easily tearable paper. Why? Because supposedly homeless people need to starve unless they can pay money to grocery store cashiers who’s money then goes into taxes which then goes to the government and then goes to something stupid like more military funding. Great, just what we need!

Believe me, if we citizens had it our way, we *would* be self reliant. Unfortunately you cant just go out and make random roads, build random houses, or have random farms without the government showing up to tear it down or ask for your shares. I can think of plenty of ways on why people would continue medical aid without incentive. In fact, here’s one right now for you; Maybe because it’s just the right thing to do? And another: Some people find medical work fascinating and want to pursue it just because. Surprise! There are other ways to do society right instead of forcing labor. Also, if you aren’t a nurse, surgeon, psychiatrist, therapist, dietitian, physician, care taker, pediatrician, or dentist, you cant exactly go around helping people without a degree and job in it.

So no, i don’t think not wanting to do taxes, living off of the grid, and rejecting the governments brutalist and greedy way of doing things is “white supremacist republican redneck shit”.

Edit: Nobody asks to be born into a corrupt country. Why should they need to follow its laws if they don't want to? It’s not a “lack” of understanding, It’s the want of freedom. You cant just move anywhere you want, set up camp, and be done.

[henry-winter-apologist]

i'm about a month late to the party but i still got some thoughts.

so our sims lord and savior got digitally/socialmedially murdered by the amount of computer illiteracy everywhere online these days. and im here to have a rant about it and pick a bone with the idiots who feel entitled to his time and skill. long post ahead, i'm in the mood to go full anadius on simmers' asses

this isn't me trying to defend anything or speak on his behalf. but this is the hill i'm willing to die on regarding piracy in general. anadius doesn't need anyone to defend him in any case lmao. nonetheless this is a good case study

facts i need everyone to actually get through their heads real quick:

as it stands now, the full sims 4 experience has reached over $1200. that's my entire living budget for almost half a year.

sims 4 is a pile of garbage spaghetti code that will never get fully fixed unless some sort of miracle happens

ea is incomprehensibly big

ea doesn't give a shit about you

game cracking is free labor

okay, rant starts under the cut. don't interact if, besides comp skills, you also lack reading comprehension and critical thinking

if you're willing to dunk on anadius for being a dick, you're not different from people who defend ea. am i willing to say for certain anadius doesn't sometimes get off on calling people stupid? i'm not and i honestly don't give a shit if he does cause it would be missing the entire fucking point of his work. so what if he does?

and before y'all call me an asskisser, i see your point and i'm not trying to hide it. i lurk in his server sometimes and i go over the help threads and lose my shit laughing at the conversations happening there. he does live in my head rent free. as i've been saying for the past few years, if anadius spits in your mouth, you say thank you. anyway

i won't even get into the "he's rude" thing because it's a nothing burger. yes, he is. there's no denying it. however, just because he's mean doesn't erase the fact that some simmers can't follow instructions - especially the ones who got into sims when sims 4 was released. and i say this as someone who's exclusively played sims 4. this is most likely due to comp literacy going down w late genz/gen alpha.

the fact is that if you took a few hours out of your life to understand his system, your problems would go away. unfortunately, some of you can't fucking read a text carefully because you're so goddamn used to skimming over shit. and that's how you miss important details. that's how you end up moving shit you're not supposed to. i know it hurts to find out you're illiterate, but someone has to humble you. you can't just fucking go around calling him toxic and abusive(??????????) and telling him he has anger management problems. besides the absolutely bonkers idea of diagnosing someone over twitter replies, anyone who's ever dealt with people who have never tried to learn the basics of compsci can tell you he's right

furthermore, another thing that grinds my fucking gears is "if he finds it so annoying why doesn't he stop replying🙄". maybe i know this because i enjoy reading help threads too much, but i can tell you why he keeps replying. if you have a problem that can't be fixed by instructions, he genuinely wants to help you. this also applies to people who get cursed at, but y'all refuse to see it. in any case, he really does offer his full support when something does go wrong with his tools. (don't ask me for proof. there's a reason the server isn't that easy to find). the reason he keeps replying is so very simple. he's genuinely trying to make his tools better. the thing he posted about finding very few real problems with his tools is evidence of that. actually, as far as i've seen, he also takes feedback on his instructions very well and he's used the feedback to make them more clear over the years. the thing is, you can't dumb it down more than this. there's a limit to how comp illiterate you have to be to pirate, especially if it's tools as complex as anadius'. again, you might not enjoy hearing this and i can't help you with that.

if you thought i wouldn't get more asskissy than this, here you go: the dude is simply a master in programming. not only that, but game cracking is a side of programming that won't be automated and/or taken over by ai any time soon, unlike many other code-monkey tasks, for obvious reasons. he does it all for free. he spends a huge amt of time trying to improve his tools and craft just to, most often, run into a wall with people unable to follow instructions or, even worse, lying to him about shit they did to fuck up their game then expecting him to read their mind.

you wanna speak about this in tiktok-y therapy talk? y'all are the ones abusing his time, then calling him names, then being pissed when he makes fun of you again (I'm fucking kidding, by the way, if it really has to be said. but that's not to say y'all aren't wasting his time)

the backlash he got over his "finally" reply is wild. y'all are wild. and entitled. you're so used to shitting on EA that it spills over in the modding&piracy communities.

it's so fucking obnoxious how much of a spoiled brat some of you can be over people who do insane amounts of work for FREE. do you understand that? do you understand that, if someone gives you something for free and you break it by "accident" (aka you don't use it as intended, then try to lie to them about it), then go to them for more free labor to fix it, they're allowed to be pissed and make fun of you? (is it the right thing to do? i don't really care, honestly. if that's how he deals with his work and time being exploited by spoiled brats, fine by me)

as much as some ppl insist piracy isn't a political statement, just because you keep saying it doesn't make it true, and it's very telling how people are more pissed at someone who does work for free than at the humongous company owning the thing. and, before you even think about it, no, you couldn't seriously share the same amount of outrage for both.

i could go on and on and on about how this kind of victimization on the internet won't bring you anywhere, but I'll just say this: people insulting you online because you can't follow instructions isn't abusive. and if you can't understand that i have no idea how you can live in this reality.

anyway. this whole thing applies to anyone who mods or cracks or provides for free something that companies make or would make offensive amounts of money from. i hope it doesn't ever drive anyone away from doing what they do, but especially anadius who, and i hope you understand this at some point, is indeed the reason EA doesn't own our entire asses with the bullshit they frequently pull

anadius, if this post finds you, nice work. really appreciate you. also, let's pretend i never said anything about anyone spitting in someone's mouth, thanks😗