#oh this is Not good for suicidal ppl

[dullahandyke]

Also have some assorted funeral thoughts from the mass

*doing the prayers* ok maybe I'm still a bit christian

*looks at the cross longingly* I neeeed to get crucified

Critiqued the architecture of the sanctum

*listening to the gospel* literally what the fuck. Ok no I am NOT Christian fuck this

[llycaons]

'poor heroic tragic saint jiang cheng' is actually my favorite jc misinterpretation it is just so fucking funny. I'll watch the man advocate to abandon a group of political prisoners to mass murder, constantly yell about his issues, threaten his nephew and everyone else around him, and abuse his power to intentionally trigger his traumatized brother bc he's mad at him and I go online and see posts about how he's so strong and noble and a great parent/leader despite suffering so much. LIKE

[entamewitchlulu]

ok so i was pretty let down by the way the anime adaptation ended and I haven't caught up to the manga (and also it's still going?? so i don't know exactly what the plan is there so like take whatever i'm about to say with a huge grain of salt)

anyway. suicide mention tw

but anyway I was thinking about moriarty the patriot again and about how when you really think about it, William's "brilliant" plan to change British society is actually really.....childish. The idea that if he puts the corruption of the world on blast, and then becomes the image of that corruption to force everyone to unite against him and thus make the world change....it's so tragically childish. It's the dream of a child, and in fact it's the plan he's had since he was a child. A belief that he can change the world through becoming the villain is genuinely not actionable. Whatever he might accomplish through it wouldn't be lasting.

In the end the simple fact is that William is....pretty deeply suicidal. He genuinely doesn't believe there's a place for him in the world and the only way he can fix it so that the people he loves can have a better world is if he dies.

He's a brilliant man, no one's arguing that. He truly can pull off the perfect crimes that often do make things better for everyone through very violent means.

But i think that just solidifies the idea in his head that the only way to make lasting change is through violence, and because of his various childhood traumas piled on top of the way the world keeps confirming his biases, he genuinely does not realize that his plan is honestly, very very stupid, and predicated on a deep, unexamined belief in his own inherent worthlessness.

He believes that there is evil in the world and the only way to get rid of it is through violence, and he believes that because of his actions he has become that same evil and must, therefore, be removed just like he has removed everyone else.

But it's shortsighted. It's always been shortsighted. He can't save the world by killing himself.

And it's just so fucking tragic.

[marsixm]

i told my manager i saw deadpool n he was like “its funny right!” and i was like “…. have u seen peacemaker? i rly think youll like peacemaker 😀” i dont think i played that one subtly enough chief fjdnfjmsdjks

[stellacadente]

i realized how much it scares me that my mind will convince itself of even the ugliest things if i start thinking them often enough and it's... yeah. like i had a good session with my psychiatric rehabilitation therapist i think it was very useful but then at the end i got hit by this feeling of fear... like i'm so scared of myself and how low i can get

[themyscirah]

I think that comic creators should be forced to read the entirety of Ostrander & Yale's Suicide Squad run before they even THINK of using Amanda Waller in anything actually

[perenlop]

havent read tbc but i think its so funny how shadowsight seems to be popular to the people i follow just because “the narrative treats him like all the female characters do so hes an honorary girlie”

[weather-phenomenon]

shay died which feels idk kinda weird but also not id really know him i was introduced to him n i think we both blundered our first meeting lmao

[icedille]

having feelings and emotions is hell idk who thought this was a good idea I WANT A LOBOTOMY!!!!!!!

[sualne]

carnis au accidental [???] but i was thinking about mimic luffy wanting to get closer and closer to law, and i'd been thinking since i've made the au about how he'd want to see law's scars (already various scenes on how it could happen, written notes and all, don't know which to pick), and then the fact that he knows there's something carnis still in him.

so i was thinking of another scene where he's inspecting the scars on his face and they both very close but it's not the scars he's really looking at, he's searching for that carnis leftover and says maybe mostly to himself "It's still inside you. That's just so unfair. Why, just why couldn't it have been me?"

And jokingly is thought: This is it folks, I broke the code, this is about bottom dysphoria!

But then! I thought again, the au is about feeling otherized, isolated and monstrous and wrong. i've already strongly considered the idea of luffy's death as a suicide metaphor. the mimic has been thinking about socially detransitioning because it keeps getting accosted by creeps and assholes and knows that luffy would've fought back most of the time but also knows it's much stronger now and doesn't want to get caught, he needs to lays low, it doesn't want to cause a scene, it has to go stealth.

law hates the idea because it's not enough that it killed luffy now it has to just go and erase that important part of him of as well but the mimic insist, he's still a man, he'll just fake being a girl to make it easier. but law doesn't understand because to him the mimic is faking being a man, it's faking being a person, it's faking being luffy.

the reason the mimic wants to lay low is because it doesn't want to get caught so it can stay with law and study him, understand him. law doesn't knows that, he's too freaked out by the fact that's it's a mimic! that it killed luffy and might possibly want to kill him too! but the mimic feels a kind of kinship with law because of that remaining carnis in him.

remains he got from nearly dying, from losing his family, from an attack to another carnis. and i thought, law is meant to be reminiscent of mimics. he had to regrow his face, he's (as always) autistic and doesn't always act as expected, he's also paranoid even when he happens to be right, he's traumatized to the point of psychosis, the encounter changed him. it was meant as a parallel to how ppl like to think murderers&co are all mentally ill because they can't possibly be Normal Like Them, they must be different, they must not be human, they're obviously monsters. but those victims, those who get to survive, the trauma change them, they can acquire all sort of neurodivergences, and when those same Normal People learn that a person has some kind of The Scary Disorder they think "Oh, you're a monster too! You'll (inevitably) hurt someone!" which lead back to being otherized ect.

there's also something about how law didn't just get scars from his near death experience but also what's essentially a disease.

and then back to the mimic, who recognize itself in him, in that disease, but it isn't quite right, it's not enough and it's also nothing alike at all and also he's kind of jealous? it makes no sense to the mimic itself but he can't stop thinking about law either.

it's also how a monster that's linked to what is theorized to be something close to a hivemind accidentally developing a sense of identity and facing some sort of existential crisis over the fact that it can't ever escape it's monstrous nature and doesn't want to either. and that sound like, very much like being trans and cracking your egg and realizing you're fucked cause that sure is knowledge to have about oneself and also it's in the fictional 90s of a op carnis au so good luck with that.

anyway that's a lot of words and im not sure how to phrase the rest it's just, this was supposed to be a casual au where i went "OHOHO look at the Tragedy" but i thought about it too long and now i feel like i've ended up with a millefeuilles of overlaying themes and im, i means sure. can't draw All that tho so what now.

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

omg hi if ur inbox is open can u give us a short blurb/your thoughts on or some kind of headcanon list for yan tim drake (romantic) bc ur interpretation of him is so yum🤤 i like how you rlly focus on more darker aspects of his character which i dont see a lot of ppl doing unfortunately bc the way he’s a complete FREAK LMFAO🫣🫣

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒…

!!! GN reader, mentally ill Tim, psychotic Tim, just Tim, he’s a problem, manic/depressive episodes, violent tendencies, suicidal tendencies, stalking, kidnapping, obsessive behaviors, gross ways to show affection, slight insinuation of pervy Tim, blood, mutilation, harm to reader mentioned, self-harm, severed body parts, drugging, gaslighting.

YAAAAYYYYYYYYY, TIM DRAKE TIME!!!! This is so long overdue. I’ve been meaning to write for him, but… it just hasn’t happened yet. I hope the ideas will start flowing after I get some of this off my chest. I’ve been harboring so many miscellaneous Tim thoughts for a while.

(Y’all. The CW on this just kept getting longer and longer. My bad.)

First thing’s first, Tim is a fucking mess. There’s no way to know for sure which version of him you’re gonna get each day. Maybe he’s going through a manic episode, coming up with batshit crazy schemes and going on about things that don’t make sense. Maybe he’ll then swing into a depressive fit, where he can’t even bring himself to get up from the floor. Maybe he wakes up completely fine after an hour long nap, regretting whatever initial brash decisions he made. Maybe he quickly turns violent at the sound of knocking at his door. Maybe he wants to claw his own arteries out after trying to maintain a normal social interaction.

The possibilities are endless! Which makes him extremely dangerous.

If you’ve caught the eye of Tim Drake… yikes. Good luck. There’s a chance you don’t even know who he is before he inevitably kidnaps you (completely on a whim, no less). Maybe you’re a total stranger he saw on the street once, captivating him and causing him to spiral into a twisted obsession. While I’ll defend Tim against the fandom allegations until my lungs give out, I’ll admit: they’re on to something when it comes to stalker Tim. Bro definitely has pictures of you covering every square inch of his walls. And, yes, it’s to the point where they overlap each other.

Kidnapping can take anywhere between 3 days and 3 years. During that time, he may try to weasel his way into your life in an attempt to win you over... though we all know how well that would go. As I’ve mentioned before, he may be attractive, but he’s such an off-putting person. Just being around him is enough to give you the creeps. And it doesn’t help he’s completely unaware of how weird some behaviors are. Tim... honey… you can’t shamelessly stare at people with a startling grin like that. I know you’re thinking about how much you want to lick your darling-to-be’s neck, but it’s weird.

Whether he attempts to interact with you or not, one thing’s for sure: he’s stealing your shit. Clothes, toothbrushes, half-eaten food, straws, whatever he can get his hands on. Don’t ask what he does with it. You don’t wanna know. Tim is a neeeaaaasty freak, to the point where even he thinks to himself, “what the fuck is wrong with me” after he calms down from a fit.

Oh, speaking of guilt, Tim is filled with that shit. He may swing from various stages of instability, but there are moments where he’s perfectly fine. And those are the moments where he has to grapple with the consequences of his own actions. Those can range from slightly scaring someone to causing irreversible damage. There have been many times where he snapped out of some episode with blood dribbling down hands and chunks of skin under his fingernails. Who did he hurt? Could be someone else, could be himself, could be you. Who knows!!

Let’s actually get into his suicidal tendencies a bit. His arms and legs are covered in scratches and cuts. Now, this could be explained by his vigilante life, but it gets harder to justify when you get to the bite marks at angles that only make sense if they were self-inflicted. Oh, and also the carvings of your name. He does that a lot. It’s like you’re with him everywhere he goes!! And kind of on the same note, he wants you to have him with you as well!! This could come in the form of strips of skin, vials of blood, toes, an eye, an ear, a spleen… just whatever he’s willing to cut off or out of himself in the moment.

His suicidal tendencies are also connected to those moments of guilt I mentioned before. After calming down and realizing what he’s done, he may harm himself as some sort of penance; especially if he’s done something to you. Depending on how far he spirals from his guilt, he may actually enact “an eye for an eye” (perhaps in the most literal sense) to help make up for what he’s done. Who knows, maybe he’ll replace missing pieces of you with his own. Will it work? No idea. Maybe a skin graph or two, but let’s hope you don’t have to find things out in the more extreme cases.

I think it’s important to keep in mind that Tim Drake is just generally fucked-up. “Normal” Tim doesn’t mean “completely well-adjusted” Tim, it just means he’s not acting on some manic or brash decision. Normal Tim would be fine with chaining or drugging you if he’s justified it to himself. As long as he’s not causing active physical harm to you, he probably won’t see anything wrong with whatever he’s doing in the long run. It’s for your own good, okay? Don’t worry, he’s gone through the possibilities and failsafes. Nothing bad will happen to you!

Unfortunately, manic Tim does not go through the possibilities and failsafes. Well, he kind of does, but the logic is far from realistic and runs in total circles. Whereas drugging you has a rational (fucked up, but still rational) reason behind it — to keep you immobile — filling your ear canal with cement takes some mental gymnastics. Manic Tim doesn’t want you to listen to anyone else. Solution? You can’t hear through concrete, right? At that point, you’re at the mercy of his mood swing RNG. Let’s hope he calms down enough to take a step back and really think about this. Hmm… filling someone’s ears with cement… probably not healthy. Wow. Silly Tim! He let himself get carried away, didn’t he? Whoops! There are more logical ways to keep you from listening to anyone else.

That’s where manipulation comes in. I mean, come on. Y’all know who his mentor is, right? Stable Tim is wicked good at manipulation. Huh? He’s acting weird? Well, he didn’t want to say anything, but he was actually thinking the same thing about you. Yeah, you’ve been kind of off lately… is there something wrong? You sure? You know he’s there for you, right? Okay, just making sure. A gaslighting king when he’s in the right headspace for it. Too bad his psychotic aura gives him away; he’d probably be really good at keeping up appearances if he just got medicated or something.

So… yeah. Just some Tim thoughts. What a charmer, amiright? I don’t think this one’s salvageable. No amount of therapy could ever fix whatever Tim’s got going on. Just throw the whole damn guy away. Start over. Your only hope of escaping him is the chance of someone on the outside realizing what’s up. Here’s to hoping Tim gets institutionalized before he does something really bad!!

[ironunderstands]

AAAAAAAAA

Genuinely I feel annoying as fuck for saying this but like I can’t stand the way anybody else but me or my mutuals writes Aventio/Ratiorine 90% of the time

So, to vent my frustration, here’s a not in order at all bulleted list of stuff I absolutely despise when seeing content of them. This is not to call ppl out or anything, I just wanna rant about my preferences lol

oh and cw: mentions of slavery, nsfw, suicidal tendencies and non-con

-one or both of them being way to horny/flirty

Maybe this could work in content with an established relationship, but like, these guys don’t fuck, I’m sorry, they don’t. They are the biggest virgin losers ever regardless of if they have had sex in the past or not. Some of yall don’t get that they were acting in Penacony for the most part and Aventurine’s flirtiness didn’t have any weight behind it, he was really just messing with Ratio. I think if he were seriously trying to court Ratio, he’d probably be LESS flirty, but that’s just me. I understand why people make nsfw of them without any kinda buildup because well it’s fun, but for me personally I don’t really like it 90% of the time, however I fully get this is a me thing. I can tolerate it more in fanart bc well it’s fanart so yeah there’s not gonna be 3000k words of lore behind it, but like if I’m reading a fic and Aventio go from not even being in a relationship to having sex on a whim it just confuses me.

-yandere anything

I despise this trope already but it makes me 100000x more annoyed because holy shit neither of them would be a yandere I get it some people like this but WHYY THEMMM it doesn’t make sense. Yandere Aventurine makes me even more mad bc why the fuck would he make someone suffer like he did when he was younger???

-emotionless Ratio

Idk why half the community treats Ratio like he’s an unfeeling logic robot who’s sole goal is knowledge even when the game beats you over the head about how he’s the exact fucking opposite of that, but honestly I think this is just a symptom of the fact that a lot of ratiorine writers don’t give two fucks about him at all and he’s practically written as a plot device for Aventurine’s characterization.

-misunderstanding why Ratio is a tsundere

I’ve seen a lot of people misinterpret how and why Ratio is a tsundere towards Aventurine, citing it as if he doesn’t want to be associated with him/looks down upon him/is ashamed to like him when that’s really not true at all. Ratio respects and cares about Aventurine a hell of a lot, and he isn’t shy at all to show it when it’s necessary (see DSAIWYTBOL or the “if you can’t hold on any longer then tell me”). However, the reason he pushes away Aventurine isn’t exactly personal (although Aventurine’s closeness to him is part of the reason why).

Rather, Ratio tends to downplay his close relationships a lot, likely as a defense mechanism, as he admits himself that he isn’t good with people in one of the dialogue options with trailblazer for the express visits. Now why he is this way is a subject of speculation because Ratio rarely ever talks about himself, and the only character who actually has a voiceline on him is Aventurine himself, so it’s very hard to get an outside perspective on him. His character stories don’t really help that much either, as they are more about his personal philosophy and journey in life rather than his personality.

However, taking what Ratio says towards Aventurine at face value when he has proven the opposite (especially considering how the trope of the tsundere is kinda centered on the character in question spouting bullshit) results in people completely misunderstanding their relationship which can get REALLY annoying. Ratio doesn’t think Aventurine is an idiot in the slightest, he just worries about how his methods put himself in danger, not his capabilities.

-fast burn

You’re telling me these emotionally constipated idiots will get together easily? No. There’s a reason I write the most crazy bullshit happening to them before a confession scene and that’s because that’s the only way you can get them to confront their goddamn feelings quickly.

-slavery aus/anything like this

Self explanatory. If you have fetishized Aventurine’s past or made stuff like this please stay 1000 feet away from me at all times or block me. Thank you 🙏

-babying Aventurine

He’s one of the most competent members of the cast, but somehow people act like his breakdown scene in 2.1 is how he behaves 24/7 when that isn’t true at all. Aventurine is incredibly smart, and single-handedly clawed his way to the top. He does not need Ratio to save him. Would he appreciate Ratio’s support? Of course, and he definitely needs loving relationships in his life, but Aventurine isn’t a damsel in distress and not everything in his life is miserable and related to his trauma.

-or the horrible reverse of babying Aventurine: his trauma doesn’t exist actually and he’s perfectly fine/ they write him like it never happened

This one is rather rare and it has overlap with a few of the other points (seriously I’m gonna tweak out the next time someone writes the character who is implied to have survived sex trafficking being a person who would even dream of crossing others boundaries). Usually this happens because people treat Aventurine’s playboy mask as if it’s his actual personality and not traits he picked up to survive and succeed at his goals, and while admittedly even Aventurine is losing track of where the mask ends and he begins, some of y’all take it wayy to far even going on to unironically call him a fuckboy when he’s anything but that. The thing is, I think this happens when people erase who Kakavasha is from their minds, and act as if that side of Aventurine is a purely innocent child and all the “bad” parts of him are part of Aventurine’s mask. However, that’s not true, and Aventurine’s most admirable traits ARE Kakavasha’s. His strategicness, his intellegence, his bravery, these are all traits he possessed long before becoming Aventurine of stratagems, something which he demonstrated when he for example got his sisters neckless back, or made that bet with his first enslaver.

Aventurine’s purity and Aventurine’s capabilities are not separated between Kakavasha and Aventurine of Stratagems, both of those qualities ARE Kakavasha’s so if you are going to write him with the mask off, you have to write BOTH, not give into one or the other.

The things I tend to drop when writing him with the mask off are his false compliments and niceties, acting like he really gives a shit about the IPC’s goals, turning down the flamboyance and cockiness to reasonable levels and making him seem less like he’s playing pretend. Honestly I don’t think it’s that hard yet this is still a pitfall I see a lot of people stumbling into.

-Ratio talking like a goddamn encyclopedia

I understand he’s like that sometimes, but he also is well versed in internet lingo and seriously nobody unironically talks like that 24/7 because it’s pointless, and Ratio doesn’t use big words to seem smart, he uses them when they are necessary.

Like I’m sorry but if they are in a middle of having sex and unprompted Ratio starts talking like a biology textbook I’m closing the fic and running around my room screaming BECAUSE GOD IS IT CRINGE. Promoted it can be funny because yeah I can see him doing that but oh my god HE WOULD NOT SAY THAT I don’t even want to give an example it pisses me off that bad but trust me it’s a common phenomenon AND I HATE IT

-Aventurine trying to kill himself 24/7

He isn’t an active suicide risk every goddamn day of his life, he’s just self destructive and those are TWO DIFFERENT THINGS.

Yes, he tested if you could die in the dreamscape several times, but that’s because one of the favorable outcomes for his mission WOULD BE DYING in the dreamscape. He’s not doing this during a normal work week and even if I believe he still has suicidal tendencies, he’s not gonna throw his life away randomly or over nothing

-Ratio holds authority over Aventurine in any capacity

No, just no. Like the only other thing he might have over him is being intelligent, although they both are smart at different things so even then does it matter? Like I’m sorry but normal human with the ability to float and make imaginary constructs versus LITERAL FUCKING STONEHEART is not a fair fight on Ratio’s end. It doesn’t matter that he’s physically larger than Aventurine, muscles don’t mean shit in a sci-fi setting, especially when your opponent can just summon 3 bajillion coins to drop into your head at a whim and there’s nothing you can do about it. Not like Aventurine would ever dream of hurting him, of course, but seriously people need to stop acting like their different in stature really means anything. Even in terms of position, Aventurine probably outranks him so this false sense of authority people apply to Ratio in their relationship is confusing at best.

Hmm, well that’s all the things I remember to bitch about although I probably have more complaints. To be fair, whenever they aren’t written like incredibly smart people who are idiots hopelessly in love with one another when together I pop a blood vessel so most of these (besides THAT one) are non issues and if you have made/enjoyed these don’t feel ashamed because of my opinions. I needed to let out my inner grinch every once and awhile, so thanks for reading

[theoddest1]

love how the same fandom who drove multiple ppl to suicide over fucking shipping draw the line at ppl rightfully wishing violence and/or death on valentino or calling val fans out, or calling anything out regarding that ugly ass andrew tate insect. you cannot apply "just liking a villian" here. the "villian" is a villian because he is a fucking rapist.

vals only defining characteristics are serial rapist, abuser, manchild, human traffickier, and sex slave ""owner"". there literally isnt anything else to his "character".

but yeah lets kill someone who likes a character dynamic i dont like. lets endlessly harrass anyone who dares have an ounce of criticism. lets endlessly harrass rewriters and redesigners. lets endlessly harass people calling out spindlehorse, lets endlessly harass critics, lets endlessly harrass ppl calling out viv, - "HOLY SHIT DID YOU JUST SAY THE RAPIST BUG SHOULD DIE??? 😡🤬🤬"

Ima say this right here right now. In order to dismantle that entire "Oh it's fiction" excuse, we need to start giving Valentino the JDiddy [Mouthwashing] treatment. Treat him like the garbage he is and have it where people make it a trend [Not towards people who simply like his design and find him a good villain]

If it's all fiction, they should surely understand when people respond with the appropriate memes☺️

[amethystarachnid]

Hi! Its me again I had another found family troupe in mind if your up for it! I wanted to ask before the Christmas prompts started.

So this time I was thinking Deadpool x Teen!Male!Reader where reader is on top of a building, how he got there is up to you, but he's abt to make a bad decision (if ykw I mean) when dead pool finds him and starts to talk, and basically they end up making a deal, if wade can make the reader see how good life is then he won't do it, but if he fails the reader can go back, and basically its is a bunch of fun stupid shit for the rest and the reader becomes apart of the little odd family created in dead pool 3 (including logan) and decides to stick around. So heavy angst that's solved in a nice fluff, and if your not comfortable with the first part you can change the angst to a different scenario you totally can, and the how and why is up to you.

Readers personality is a sarcastic, cold teen, but he's caring and weird around ppl he's close to, he hides his emotions to keep himself safe

If you can do this I would be so so grateful, if not its totally understandable, I love your work sm its hard not to request things, keep up the amazing writing! Have a good day/night!

OPERATION MAKE YOU NOT HATE THE UNIVERSE

⤷ WADE WILSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Wade Wilson x male!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, angst, tiny bit of fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): This story deals with sensitive themes, including mental health struggles and suicide

ᯓ★ I'm happy that you like my works and don't worry, you can make as may requests as you want, I'm so happy when people make requests! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The city sprawls below, twinkling and vast, but strangely quiet from this height. You sit on the edge of a skyscraper, your legs dangling into the nothingness, with only the hum of distant cars and neon lights bleeding through the foggy air.

You take a deep breath, the cold biting into your lungs. It makes sense, somehow, for this place to be the last thing you’d see. Who knows how long you’ve been sitting here, trying to drum up the courage or the anger or whatever it’s going to take to finally just let go. But the emptiness is louder than any fear. The world feels like it’s swallowed you whole, and this—you dangling on the edge—feels like the only time you’ve ever been able to look it in the face.

“You know, most people pick roller coasters or a fifth of tequila if they wanna feel a thrill.”

You flinch. Not from surprise—well, okay, a little from surprise—but more from sheer irritation. This is the moment someone decides to intrude? You glance over your shoulder and see him. He’s wearing red and black, looking like a deranged SWAT team dropout, leaning casually against the roof access door, arms crossed like he’s watching a really boring episode of a soap opera.

“And here I thought I had the whole roof to myself,” you say dryly, hiding your unease. “Guess we’re all just having a rooftop party.”

“Lucky for you, kiddo, I’m the life of the party. Deadpool, at your service,” he says with a bow. “But hey, what’s a young guy like you doing up here all alone? Besides reenacting all the worst Lifetime movies?”

You snort, because it’s exactly that bad. “Oh, just figured I’d enjoy the view,” you reply, deadpan. “And maybe gravity. Seems like a good combo.”

“Right, right, makes sense,” he nods, as if he’s in on some cosmic joke only you get. He crouches down, edging a little closer. “Let me guess. Someone pissed you off, the world sucks, you hate your life, blah blah blah, and now you’re about to end it all. Am I close?”

You don’t answer, just roll your eyes and stare back out at the city. But something in the fact that he said it—that he got it so easily—makes you feel strange. Seen.

“Oh, man, nailed it!” Deadpool cheers, like this is some sort of accomplishment. “See, I’m like a therapist, but with 90% more leather and 100% more explosions. And, I make house calls. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah? Where’s the PhD?” You give him a sidelong look, unimpressed. “Bet it’s in the mail.”

He gasps theatrically. “Excuse me, my online course was very thorough, thank you. You’re looking at a fully certified therapist-slash-savior-slash-pizza connoisseur.” He steps even closer, as if he’s trying to get a read on you. “So, what’s it gonna take for you to, I dunno…step back from the edge, champ?”

The question catches you off guard, but you school your expression back into that empty, unreadable mask. “Nothing,” you say. “Don’t need saving.”

“Aw, sure you do. Everybody does,” Deadpool replies, with a smile that’s a little too wide. He’s still in that crouch, head tilted like he’s studying a lab rat. “C’mon, take me up on my deal.”

“I didn’t agree to any deal,” you mutter.

“Well, that’s about to change, Mr. Antisocial.” Deadpool leans in, his voice a dramatic whisper. “I’ll make you a bet. If I can’t show you something worth sticking around for, something that doesn’t totally suck, you win. But if I can—and oh, I will—then you gotta promise not to do anything stupid up here. No ‘jumping’ and no ‘leaping gracefully off into the night’—not on my watch. Deal?”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. But then, you’re not sure this guy even knows what serious means. A smirk slips onto your face, mostly from disbelief. “And if you fail, I get to come back here and do what I want.”

Deadpool slaps his hands together, eyes lighting up like he’s just scored a jackpot. “Deal! Signed, sealed, and delivered. What’s your name, by the way? So I know what to call you when I start ‘Operation Make You Not Hate the Universe.’”

“None of your business.”

“Oh, that’s not gonna work,” he replies breezily. “I’ll call you...” He pauses dramatically, finger tapping his chin. “Shadow Kid. Because of your gloomy vibes. Or Edgy McBroodface. Either one works for me.”

You sigh, exasperated. “Fine. It’s Y/n. Happy?”

He claps his hands like a kid on Christmas. “Delighted! Well, Y/n, pack your bags because you’re about to take the Deadpool Tour de Joy. First stop: that little bakery down the street that makes these empanadas that are just to die for—pun very intended.”

As ridiculous as he sounds, something inside you—against all odds—doesn’t completely hate this idea. Maybe he’s right, maybe he’s wrong, but at least he’s distracting you. And it’s better than the silence. So you sigh, push yourself back from the edge, and follow him, if only because he’s made it impossible not to.

“Don’t get too excited,” you warn, hiding a hint of curiosity beneath a mask of sarcasm. “I don’t like pastries.”

“Don’t worry, kid, you will,” he grins, guiding you off the ledge. “Deadpool guarantees it. Or I’ll give you a full refund. You know, after we make sure you don’t end up sidewalk art.”

It’s midnight, and you’re trailing behind a lunatic in red and black spandex as he skips down the street like he’s leading a parade of one. You almost regret stepping away from the edge of that building. Almost. Because, despite everything, Deadpool’s got your attention, even if it’s just so you can see where this trainwreck of a night is headed.

“Now, Y/n,” he says, spinning around to face you while walking backward, “it’s time I introduce you to my squad. My inner circle. The people who either love me or have given up trying to kill me. I figured, what better way to kick off Operation: Don’t Be A Self-Destructive Edgelord than some quality time with family?”

“Your ‘family’?” You raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Oh, yes. They’re the most dysfunctional group of weirdos you’ll ever meet, which, in our line of work, is high praise.” He turns back around, leading you down a couple of twisting alleyways until you’re standing in front of a building that looks like it was abandoned about a hundred years ago.

“Home, sweet home!” Wade announces proudly, shoving the door open. “Well, it’s not really mine, but Al’s not much of a decorator anyway.”

You’re about to ask who “Al” is when you spot her: a short, older woman with oversized sunglasses, leaning against a sofa, flipping through a Braille magazine. She doesn’t even look up when she addresses Deadpool.

“You brought home another stray, Wade? You’d think you were trying to start an orphanage for misfits,” she mutters.

“This one’s special, Al. Meet Y/n,” Wade says, guiding you inside. “Y/n, this is the one and only Blind Al. She’s my friend, roommate, therapist, probation officer, and part-time parole board.”

Al snorts. “You think I’d live with Wade if I had any other options?”

You almost smirk. “So you’re telling me he’s like this all the time?”

Al nods, and you catch the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. “Constantly. And unfortunately, you’ll get used to it.”

“Come on, Al, don’t ruin the surprise! I’m a blast to be around,” Wade says, slapping you on the back with a little too much enthusiasm. “Anyway, I promised Y/n the Deadpool Experience™, which includes only the finest influences and biggest badasses on the market.”

“Speaking of badasses…” Wade nudges you, gesturing to the kitchen doorway, where a tall, grizzled man in flannel and jeans leans against the frame, arms crossed. His eyes are hard, the kind that say he’s seen more than his fair share of horror, but he’s giving you a look that’s somewhere between curiosity and caution.

“Logan, meet Y/n,” Wade says, pushing you forward. “Y/n, meet Wolverine, aka Logan Howlett, aka the surliest Canadian this side of the Rockies. Logan, Y/n here’s having a tough time deciding if life’s worth sticking around for, so I figured you could help me convince him otherwise. Since you’re all about that whole ‘living through endless suffering’ thing.”

Logan looks you over, clearly unimpressed with Wade’s choice of words. “You tell this kid what he was getting into by sticking with you?” he grumbles, giving Wade a side-eye.

“Why spoil the fun?” Wade chirps. “Besides, I figured I’d ease him into the nightmare that is my lifestyle by introducing him to you first. It’s all part of my master plan.”

You scoff. “Not exactly a plan so far.”

Logan grunts, shooting Wade a look. “Kid, if you’re here, you better be ready to put up with more crap than you signed up for. And if you don’t, well, don’t expect us to sugarcoat it.”

“Gee, thanks, Logan. Great pep talk,” Wade says, clapping his hands together. “You’re practically the Canadian Dr. Phil.”

“Whatever,” Logan mutters, giving you a short nod of acknowledgment. “Stay out of trouble, kid.”

“Thanks,” you reply dryly. “I’ll make a note of it.”

Wade flashes a grin. “All right, now that we’ve got the somber stuff out of the way, it’s time to meet my real pride and joy. Follow me, Y/n.” He leads you down a narrow hallway, barely glancing back as he goes. “And here, in the third and definitely not cleanest room on the left, is the Mini Wolverine herself, Laura Kinney!”

You peer around the doorframe, and sure enough, there’s a young girl, no older than you, sharpening a knife with an intensity that could probably slice through steel. She looks up, one eyebrow raised as she sizes you up.

“So…another of Wade’s recruits?” she asks, her tone half-sarcastic but half-genuine, like she’s as surprised as anyone to find herself among this crowd.

“Not exactly,” you reply. “Apparently, I’m part of some…life-affirming experiment?”

Laura smirks. “Good luck. Most people just end up scarred. Or worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, mini-me,” Wade says, swooping in to ruffle her hair, which she swats at with the speed of a ninja. “Y/n, Laura here is what we call a ‘clone’—same rage issues, same claws, same immunity to hugs as Mr. Broodmaster in the kitchen. Laura, Y/n here is testing out the Wade Wilson School of Life Choices.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Well, better you than me. Good luck.”

“Look at that, Y/n! She’s already rooting for you,” Wade says, pulling you back out of the room before you can reply.

“Sure,” you mutter. “I feel like I’m one big science project.”

“Nah, science projects are boring,” Wade says cheerfully. “And last, but certainly not least, the crown jewel of this ridiculous ensemble is… Peter!”

You frown, confused, as Wade leads you to the living room, where a man with glasses and a receding hairline is lounging on the couch, a sandwich in one hand and a soda in the other. He looks up and waves at you with a sheepish smile.

“Hey there. I’m Peter,” he says. “No code name, no special abilities, just…Peter.”

You raise an eyebrow at Wade. “How does he fit in?”

“Oh, he doesn’t,” Wade says matter-of-factly. “He’s just a genuinely good guy. The one, non-superpowered person who got tangled up in my dumpster fire of a life and didn’t immediately bail. I figured he’d be a nice balance to all the violent murderers in the room. Plus, he makes a mean ham and cheese sandwich.”

Peter shrugs, giving you a friendly smile. “Sometimes, it’s good to have at least one guy who knows what life’s like for the average person. And I figure, if Wade can make it, maybe there’s hope for all of us, right?”

You nod slowly, unsure what to make of all this but also, maybe for the first time in a long time, feeling something close to warmth. These people are rough around the edges, sure, but there’s an understanding in the way they look at you—like they know what it’s like to have the world chew you up and spit you out.

“Well, Y/n,” Wade says, clapping his hands together, “you’ve met the gang. Now, how about that empanada?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine,” you mutter. “One empanada. But if it sucks, this deal’s off.”

Wade grins. “Deal! And hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even get a side of wisdom and life lessons from our merry band of misfits. Consider this step one on the path to…not hating everything.”

He leads the way, Peter and Al in tow, while Logan and Laura hang back a bit. And as you walk down the dimly lit street, surrounded by this unlikely crew, you realize maybe—just maybe—Wade might actually have a point.

The morning sun drips through the dirty windows of Blind Al’s apartment, casting a pale yellow glow over the chaotic mess of takeout boxes, weapon cases, and torn-up furniture. You’re sprawled on an old, threadbare armchair, an empanada wrapper stuck to your shirt from last night’s “Deadpool Tour de Joy.” You’d made it through an entire night with Wade and his crew of insane, sarcastic maniacs—and, against all odds, it wasn’t completely awful. In fact, you’d felt something almost like…belonging.

But now it’s the next day, and you’ve already told yourself a hundred times that you should probably just slip out, go back to what you were doing, forget all of this ever happened. You’re starting to push yourself up when Wade barges into the room, wearing his costume but missing the mask, eyes bleary, and looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Ah! Sleeping beauty rises!” Wade yells, startling you. “Figured you’d skipped out by now, but no! Y/n, my little suicidal protégé, how’s life on the wild side?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s early. Can you not yell?”

“Oh, no-no-no, kid, this is normal volume,” Wade replies with a grin. “Wait ‘til Logan shows up and starts shouting at me. Speaking of which…”

Right on cue, Logan comes around the corner, his expression twisted in irritation. “Wade, it’s nine in the damn morning, why are you already so loud?”

“Why are you such a ray of sunshine?” Wade replies cheerfully, barely dodging Logan’s hand as he tries to grab him.

“Because you’re annoying,” Logan growls, rolling his eyes and making for the coffee pot. But Wade is already blocking him, a mug in one hand, smirking.

“What if I told you there was no coffee left? Would you kill me?”

Logan raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to repeat it. Without a word, he pops out his claws, a metallic snikt slicing through the silence.

“Oh, I’m shaking!” Wade sneers, clearly egging him on.

“Deadpool, just get out of my way.” Logan tries to push past, but Wade laughs, making some obnoxious buzzing noise that apparently does the trick, because Logan grits his teeth and stabs him, right through the side.

You jump, stunned, watching as Logan’s claws slip back out, leaving Wade clutching his side. Blood pours out of the wound, and you’re about to call out when you realize that Wade’s grinning.

“Oh, there it is,” Wade says, inspecting the hole in his side, barely even phased. “You got me good, Wolvie. Was hoping you’d go for the chest, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“What the hell?” You can’t help but gape at him. “You’re bleeding, and you’re laughing?”

Wade winks, dropping his hand and letting you see that the wound is…healing. Muscles and tissue knit themselves back together, as if he hadn’t been stabbed at all. “Oh, yeah! Y/n, I forgot to mention one of my best features: I’m unkillable! Like an annoying houseplant that refuses to die. Cool, right?”

You blink, still trying to process. “So…no matter what happens to you, you just…keep coming back?”

“Yup! Think of it like this,” Wade says, throwing an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the sticky blood on his suit. “I am the miracle of human resilience, cranked up to eleven. Plus, I give Logan a stress outlet every morning. Win-win, really.”

“Wouldn’t call it a win,” Logan mutters, pouring his coffee. “If anything, you’re my worst nightmare.”

Wade smirks, turning to you. “Logan here’s my best friend. Don’t let him fool you.”

Logan takes a long, deliberate sip of his coffee, glaring over the rim. “One more word, Wade, and I’ll make it two stabs.”

“Oh, two stabs?” Wade clutches his chest dramatically. “Why, Mr. Howlett, you really know how to flatter a guy.”

“Honestly,” you mutter, looking at them, “this is the weirdest friendship I’ve ever seen.”

Logan glances over at you, grumbling, “It’s not a friendship. It’s a…complicated arrangement.”

Wade beams, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulder, which Logan promptly shrugs off. “Call it whatever you want, sweetie.”

As they bicker, Laura enters the room, unfazed by the chaos. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment before grabbing a seat at the table, watching the two men as if this is just another morning.

“Y/n, how’s Wade treating you?” she asks, a smirk forming on her face.

You can’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Oh, it’s just been fantastic. Nothing like witnessing multiple acts of violence before breakfast.”

She grins. “Get used to it. That’s pretty much every day around here.”

“Hey, I call it ‘combat therapy,’” Wade retorts, tossing her a wink. “You know, bonding time for the soul. Plus, Logan secretly loves it.”

You’re still processing all of this when Peter comes in, looking almost suspiciously normal, like a PTA dad in a nightmare of superheroes and chaos. He gives you a friendly wave, balancing a bag of bagels and a coffee tray.

“Morning, everyone!” Peter says, the only cheerful voice in the room. “Brought bagels for you all. Thought maybe today we could take it easy and just…you know, be normal for a while?”

Wade gasps. “Normal? Peter, buddy, you’re really asking a lot of me.”

“Don’t mind him, Peter,” you mutter, taking a bagel. “I think I’m the only sane one here.”

Peter gives you a sympathetic look. “I figured as much. Good luck with this crew, Y/n. If you ever need a sane friend, I’m your guy.”

Laura scoffs. “He doesn’t want ‘sane’ friends. If he did, he’d have run by now.”

You can’t argue with that. In fact, the thought does cross your mind—why didn’t you leave? But before you can dwell on it too long, Wade claps his hands.

“Today’s adventure awaits!” he announces, eyes alight with his usual chaotic energy. “We’ll start with breakfast and then…well, I’m not sure yet, but it’ll be something awesome.”

The group groans as Wade grabs his mask and heads for the door, beckoning for you to follow. Logan sighs, Laura grabs her knives, and Peter just looks resigned. But they all follow, like it’s a ritual they’re somehow tied to, and after a moment, you find yourself tagging along too.

The day is filled with antics. You lose track of the times Wade gets hurt, only to heal right in front of your eyes. Logan mutters that he’d be better off without Wade, only to punch him in the shoulder five minutes later with a hidden grin. Laura challenges Wade to a knife fight, and Peter just sighs, trying to keep everyone in line. And for the first time in…who knows how long, you’re laughing. Really laughing.

It’s almost night by the time you head back, the sky darkening as the city lights flicker on. You’re about to part ways and make your way home, but somehow, your feet keep taking you back to Al’s apartment. You know you don’t belong here, not really, but when you reach the door, there’s that same warmth—a strange pull you can’t ignore.

Wade notices you hesitate by the door and grins. “Aw, he’s back! See, I told you I’d be your favorite person in no time.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you mutter, but you don’t turn to leave. Logan, Laura, Peter, and Al all glance at you, each with a look of welcome that they probably wouldn’t admit to feeling. It’s an odd sight, this bunch of misfits, but in some way, you realize that maybe they’re not as much of a mess as they seem. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve found something here that doesn’t completely suck.

“All right, all right, enough with the mushy stuff!” Wade says, breaking the silence. “Y/n, welcome back to Dysfunctional Central. We’re going to make you regret every second.”

You roll your eyes but smirk, stepping back inside and letting the door click shut behind you. Because this time, you don’t mind sticking around.

As night settles in over Blind Al’s apartment, the usual chaos of the group fades. Laura’s busy sharpening a blade on the couch, Logan’s nursing a beer in the corner, Peter is cleaning up the disaster of takeout containers from earlier, and Al is sitting near the window, her face turned toward the cool night breeze drifting in. Wade, in his typical way, is chattering aimlessly about everything and nothing at all, flipping between mocking TV commercials and talking up his latest “brilliant” idea for a reality show. And, as usual, you’re mostly tuning him out, feeling a mix of exhaustion and…something else. Something that’s starting to feel suspiciously like relief.

Wade breaks off suddenly, his head cocked as he glances over at you with a curious look. “So, Y/n,” he begins, his voice dropping a few notches in volume—a rarity. “How’s our little…adventure going? You feelin’ the spark of life yet? The whole, ‘maybe being alive doesn’t completely suck’ kinda thing?”

You shrug, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket. “I mean, it’s…been okay. You guys are insane, obviously, but it’s not the worst.”

Wade grins. “Insane and proud, baby. It’s kind of our brand. But don’t think I haven’t noticed your little act.” He leans in, dropping his voice even lower. “You’re good at the sarcasm, the deadpan thing. But I can see the cracks, kid. What’s under there?”

You freeze, not sure how to answer. Part of you wants to laugh it off, throw a sarcastic line his way, but something about the way Wade’s looking at you, uncharacteristically sincere, throws you off guard.

“Why’re you asking?” you mutter, looking away.

He shrugs, casual but not unkind. “Because, believe it or not, I give a damn. And because if I’m gonna help you out of whatever pit you’ve fallen into, I need to know where to start. So…give me the lowdown. What’s so bad it made you wanna bail on this whole rodeo?”

You swallow, throat tight. The last thing you want is to spill everything, to lay out every messy thought and feeling. But the words are there, just behind your teeth, begging to be let out after you’ve kept them buried for so long.

“It’s…” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “It’s not one thing, okay? It’s like…everything.”

Wade’s eyes don’t leave yours, an unspoken encouragement in his gaze.

You take a breath, still unsure, but the dam is cracking, and suddenly the words are pouring out before you can stop them. “I don’t know, Wade. I just—I feel like I don’t fit. Anywhere. I’ve tried, I really have, but no matter what I do, it’s like I’m some kind of outsider. The kid who’s always…wrong. Like I don’t belong in my own life. And the more I tried to fit in, the harder it got.”

Wade nods, not interrupting, just letting you talk.

“School was a nightmare,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper. “People either ignored me or treated me like I was invisible. Even my own family doesn’t seem to get me. I just…there’s no place for me. No one who actually cares, and it’s been that way for so long that I can’t remember a time it wasn’t. And I know you’re supposed to push through or whatever, but I just got so tired, Wade. Tired of always feeling like I’m on the outside looking in. Tired of being…me.”

You shake your head, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “Everywhere I look, it’s like people have these lives, friends, family, things that give them a reason to wake up. But me? I don’t have anything, not really. So I started wondering…if I just disappeared, would anyone even notice? Would anyone care?”

Wade is quiet, watching you with an expression you can’t quite place. It’s not pity—thankfully, you don’t think you could stand that—but something softer, gentler.

“That’s why I went up there last night,” you admit, surprised by the honesty in your own voice. “Because I couldn’t stand the emptiness anymore. I thought maybe if I just…ended it, at least it would stop hurting, you know?”

There’s silence in the room now, even the usual background noise faded to nothing. You can feel the weight of your own words, a relief but also a vulnerability that makes you want to crawl out of your own skin.

After a moment, Wade shifts, sitting down next to you. “Hey, kid,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I know that feeling. I know it all too well.”

You glance at him, surprised. “You? You seem like you’ve got everything figured out.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, kid. I may be the king of talking big, but I’ve been where you are. Hell, I’ve been to worse places. You think I’m here just ‘cause life handed me everything I wanted? Nope. I got scars, inside and out, that’d make your head spin. And you know what? That ‘don’t belong’ feeling? I had that too.”

Wade pauses, running a hand over his mask, which he’s bunched up in his hands. “I used to think…if I could just disappear, maybe that would be the best thing for everyone. And that was before I became…this.” He gestures to his scarred skin, his voice low but steady. “When you look like this, people either turn away or look at you like you’re some kind of monster. It was…lonely. Really, really lonely.”

You swallow, something in his words hitting close to home. “So what changed?”

Wade smiles, a bit of his usual spark returning. “Well, I guess I just got stubborn. Figured if the world didn’t want me, then I’d make my own place. Found people—well, like the circus act you met last night. Turns out, sometimes family’s not about blood. It’s about…finding people who see the worst parts of you and stick around anyway.”

“Not everyone has that,” you murmur, glancing at the floor.

“True,” Wade admits, his gaze softening. “But kid, here’s the thing: you’re still here. And now, you’ve got us—like it or not.” He gives you a wry smile. “You don’t have to carry that weight alone anymore. I get it, I really do, but there’s no shame in letting someone else help pick up the pieces. Maybe you just haven’t found your people yet…but you’ve got me, and the squad. We’re not perfect, but we don’t go down without a fight.”

You look at him, a strange warmth spreading through your chest despite the heaviness of the moment. For the first time, you feel like maybe someone actually understands. Maybe, just maybe, you’re not completely alone.

“Thanks,” you say, the word barely loud enough to hear. “For…listening.”

Wade grins, reaching out and patting your shoulder, a bit rough but oddly comforting. “Anytime, kid. I’m annoying, sure, but you won’t find anyone more loyal.” He gives you a wink. “Besides, I told you—I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.”

You chuckle, feeling a little lighter despite everything. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope. It’s a gift and a curse.” Wade stands, offering a hand to help you up. “Now, you and me? We’re gonna keep going until you see just how much life’s got to offer. I mean, look at me—scarred, hated, stabbed on a daily basis—and somehow, I’m still here.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re a walking disaster.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wade says with a laugh. “But hey, you stick around with us long enough, maybe we’ll rub off on you. Logan can teach you how to growl menacingly, and Laura can teach you how to stab with precision. Peter’s got the dad jokes covered. It’s a real all-inclusive experience.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a spark of hope. It’s small, fragile, but it’s there. Maybe life’s not all bright and shiny, and maybe you’ve got a long way to go, but with Wade and this dysfunctional crew, maybe there’s a chance you can start over. At the very least, you’re not alone.

“Alright,” you say, meeting Wade’s gaze with newfound determination. “I’ll give this a shot.”

Wade’s grin stretches wide, genuine. “That’s the spirit, Y/n! I knew you had it in you.” He throws an arm around your shoulder, squeezing a little too tight. “And hey, if it ever gets too tough, just remember—you’ve got us.”

You nod, letting yourself lean into the odd but reassuring presence of Wade by your side. For the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s a path forward, one you don’t have to walk alone.

And with this crazy group, maybe that path won’t be as empty as the one you were on before.

if you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and leave a comment if you want!

[thedvilsinthedetails]

Rosekiller band au microfic!!!

hey guys, I wrote the first microfic in the lil series I’m doing, you can find the original idea for it here

ik I’d said I’d wait but I’m impatient hahaha

(some of the ppl that asked to be tagged if i ever wrote it: @always-reading @blu3stars @chaoticgaywitch @1284646imjusthere @depressedtheatrekiddo @idk-what-to-put-here-123)

anyway just wrote this pretty quickly so it might have some mistakes n stuff sorry abt that I don’t do grammar or punctuation anyway here you go, enjoy:

(EDIT: link to part 2)

••• Pink lipstick stains, cigarette butts

I lie in bed, I hate my guts

A day in the dark 

A muddled afternoon, yeah

Barty pressed his cheek close to Evan as they sang into the same microphone. He could feel the buzz of the music through the vibration of the stage below him. 

Oh baby darling how I long 

To become your suicide blonde

He ran a hand through Evan’s platinum curls as he sung the line. Evan leaned into it, eyes meeting Barty’s, grinning as he sung. 

To lie beside my Romeo

Oh what a wicked way to go

Evan’s fingers moved deftly on the guitar, he lifted a hand, twirled the pick in his hand before resuming immediately, he didn’t take his eyes off Barty the entire song. 

•••

“Ah fucking hell look at the comments Bee.”

Evan was sat at the base of the sofa, scrolling through the comments on a video of their performance last night. He held the phone up to Barty on the sofa, who squinted before taking it and reading it out to the room.

“Skittlefiend57 says ‘omg Blarty and Evan! I’m so gone 4 them u guys’”

“Blarty?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve been getting my name wrong all these years guys. Wow that’s a crazy thing to discover at 23.”

“Bad spelling aside, there’s way more. And it’s not all good stuff.”

Evan said and Barty looked back down at the comments. 

“Barty and Evan are queerbaiting, they act so gay but they’re not dating. It’s all clearly faked to get attention. Fucking pathetic. Why thank you peenisonapizza. Glad to see you know us personally and can therefore speak on our behalf.”

“Don’t know why they’re obsessed with accusing a band with two trans guys of queer baiting.”

Evan pinched his furrowed brow and shook his head in disbelief.

“They don’t even care about the fucking music, just us and whether we’re dating or not.”

Barty laid down on the sofa, dropping one arm around Evan and resting his chin on Evan’s shoulder.

“Hey cheer up Rosie. They care about the music. There’s a few assholes but that’s a given. If they weren’t talking about us acting gay they’d be talking about whether my tattoos are real or fake.”

“Or some conspiracy theory that Reggie’s not actually lactose intolerant.” 

Pandora chipped in.

“I’m not lactose intolerant!”

Regulus replied indignantly.

“Is that you talking or your obsession with chocolate?”

Dorcas rolled her eyes as she spoke. Regulus avoided her gaze as he mumbled out a half hearted response.

“Remus got me hooked on Tony’s chocolonely.”

While the rest of the group squabbled Evan leaned his head back against Barty’s shoulder, he pulled out his phone.

***

Evan.Rosier✔️

Hey everyone, I’ve noticed there’s a lot of speculation about me and @Barty.Grouch.JR and I wanted to say that it’s none of your business, you can think what you like but please don’t ask us or spam comment sections with theories. As always thank u so much for listening to our music, the skittles luv u x

***

Evan breathed in and passed the phone to Barty.

“You think this is good?”

Barty read it over and nodded.

“You’ve been really nice about it too.”

Evan huffed out a laugh.

“I was normal about, not my fault you would have said something like-“

“Roses are red, violets are blue, you are a cunt and I hate you @peenisonapizza.”

Barty took a small bow, flourishing his hand dramatically. Evan turned around and flicked him in the leg, which only succeeded in making him laugh. 

 “Ok I’ve posted it.”

Evan clicked post and watched as the ‘likes’ number quickly began to climb.

“Now I’m just not gonna read the comments on that post.”

Evan huffed out a laugh and Barty patted his shoulder.

“Good on you Rosie. Now who wants to watch a movie?”

Evan clambered onto the sofa next to Barty who leaned against him immediately, head resting on his shoulder.

“Rosie.”

Barty whispered.

“Yeah Bee?”

“Give me your phone. Look we both know it will bother you all evening not reading those comments if you have your phone on you. Just- out of sight out of mind, I’ll give it back to you once the movie is over but you deserve to have an evening off.”

Barty’s eyes were wide, expression genuine as he spoke. Evan hesitated then reached in his pocket for his phone.

“Don’t spam it with photos alright?”

A smirk spread on Barty’s face quickly, eyes sparkling.

“I make no promises Ev.”

Evan rolled his eyes but handed the phone over. 

The movie was something Pandora had picked, something from the late 80s, a strange mix of fantasy, reality and meta theatre that Evan actually didn’t hate.

Still he drifted to sleep at some point watching it, the stress of the day had clearly gotten to him and something about the way the top of Barty’s head made for a great pillow probably didn’t help.

Either way he woke up to the feeling of Barty shaking him.

“Come on sleeping beauty, let’s get you to a real bed. Here’s your phone back.”

Evan rubbed his eyes and got up, stumbling to his room as thanked Barty in a half asleep murmur.

He got to his room and turned on his phone, wincing at the glaring brightness, turning it down quickly. He opened his photos app, just as he’d suspected his camera roll was filled with new photos.

He began to scroll through them. There was one of his friends, all waving at the camera. A zoomed in shot of Inigo Montoya‘s face on the TV screen from a funny angle. Himself, looking dumb, sleeping with his mouth slightly open. He scrolled to the next picture and stopped. Barty with that cheeky grin of his, curled up against Evan, flipping off the camera. Eyes twinkling in that way that always made Evan feel a little warmer, a little brighter. He fell asleep again dreaming of a body pressed against his in a hug, the hum of a movie no longer playing, soft hair tickling his face and mischief painted in big brown eyes. 

For info about the position they’re sat in (it’s clear in my mind but I’m not sure how clear it is in the description), the song that they are playing and the movie they watch, look below the read more:

Position they are in before Evan gets on the sofa, red is Evan, green is Barty - yes Barty is uncomfortable, yes he would sit like that anyway bc Barty will do fucking contortion to be able to hug Evan argue with a wall

Don’t question the drawing skills, I can’t draw and did it in a moving vehicle

the song is EVOL by MARINA

the movie is the princess bride suggested by the lovely @lulublack90 who u shld defo check out bc she’s rlly amazing at writing

(Oh also Evan and Reggie are both trans in this)

[eerna]

ab jinx's possible suicide (although i believe she's alive): I can't lie, i wasn't surprised at all. yes it feels shitty, yes it feels terrible. but by LoL Arcane archives (which riot DIDN'T release for everyone and i think that's fucking shitty bc i feel like some ppl didn't have access to that but it's very important Vi and Jinx), she unfortunately grew up creating this idea that dying and death aren't bad things. in Powder's diary she expresses how it feels weird to be killing all those ppl, how she didn't really get why would Silco kill them if killing is bad, and eventually she expresses how she can't see why ppl get sad and mad ab dying, because dying means going to a better place. for Jinx, dying is redemption. that's why breaking the cycle means killing herself, not as a bad thing, but as getting into a better place. which is tragic and terrible and fucking sad, but i can't say i didn't see it coming, i did.

but what i think it's worse ab that ending is that, if she doesn't kill herself and decides to live because she now sees she's not alone, that life is worth living, that she can get a good thing being alive, (and she's going away, there's this part of the theory) Ekko and Vi don't know she's alive. the people who want her the most, who love her the most, who didn't give up on her, don't know she's alive and can't reach her to then build a good life with her in some way. that's the part that pisses me off, because if you're not commiting to the tragedy of her death by her own hands because of her own ideas, you're also not giving a clear opportunity for the character to build a better phase. IT'S LIKE THE THING IS CUT IN HALF (both for her and for Vi) and I can't stress enough how that's pissing me off

Yeah, I think you are right :((((( I was an idealist dreaming of her finding a place with Zaunites... A few days back I was taking to a friend and she also pointed out that she knew Jinx was dying in the end simply because mentally ill characters who make that many mistakes AND stir civil unrest are never ever given an opportunity to be anything more than a tragedy. She is presented as too broken to be of any good to anyone, because her helping the people is not seen as something truly redeemable, the only thing that matters is the personal mistakes she made. Even in survival, she doesn't have the right to happiness. Oh I am tearing up a bit, it is very sad to think about, and very unfair. I can see the thematic resonance in her never speaking to Vi again but c'mon the entirety of Zaun was there to have her back, that must have counted for something