#so that’s why I think it would be even more hurtful for me personally if Mal was the one who knew Nia’s secret and kept it from everyone

[markrosewater]

I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.

The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.

Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.

I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.

You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.

Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.

You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.

And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.

And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.

Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.

That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.

Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.

But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.

If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.

When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.

Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?

How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?

Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.

There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.

I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?

Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.

Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.

And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.

To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?

Thanks for reading.

[patricia-taxxon]

I want to set the record straight regarding a certain OST for a short film that should be coming out later this year, because one of its directors is making false and hurtful claims about me and my business ethic. After he made a prominent appearance on a drama stream about me & wrote a section of my callout doc, I told him that I wasn't interested in dragging him publicly, but that has felt more impossible as time goes on and I realize the extent of his misrepresentation. I had a vision of this film being able to release quietly in spite of everything, but I don't think that can happen, and I fully expect him to try and hurt my chances at further work.

In 2023, between techdogs 4 and 5, I worked on music for a then good friend's student film. It is by far the most technically difficult job I've ever had, and I did it for free. Now, before you get mad, this is partially (mostly) my fault. I never negotiated a price beforehand, and when I found out partway through that I was working for free, I let it slide for fear of being disruptive. If I was asked to quote a price today, it would have been approximately 900 USD. The work was a hellish and grueling experience, technical in ways I'd never been prepared for, and I sorely regret not putting my foot down, because I was hollowed out by the end of it.

A big portion of his callout against me is concerned with, bafflingly, my decision not to contribute my own money to the film, which at that point would have been a negative paycheck. I didn't pay the thirty dollars that I would've had to pitch in for the film to be screened, and I considered that a fine payment for the nine hundred dollars of work they got from me. He goes on to write that I'm rich anyways, I pay hundreds of dollars on album art (business expenses that I know I'll make back when the music is released) and "furry porn," because apparently if I am occasionally willing to drop a pretty penny on a pleasure purchase then I should simply be compelled to pay them randomly for things I hold no stake in and that I signed no contract for. He also mentions that I paid them later for the DCP file at another screening, of course by that point I had gotten the vibe that they were wanting for me to drop money on their project, so I did, giving the post-hoc justification that "i guess in this case I also care about the film sounding good." He writes "well I guess that was something she deemed worthy" without realizing the implication would then be that he did not see my own work as worthy.

Let me make this clear, this is like if a voice actor worked on my video game for free as a favor with no expectations of royalties, and then I asked them to help me pay to get the game on steam. This is presented along reheated second, third, fourthhand accounts of sexual misconduct.

And before we move on, to the claim that one album artist had to wait for years before receiving payment, this is true. I did forget to pay one artist, and only found out after their assistant contacted me years later, where I then paid six times the asking price as a late fee. I was commissioning over ten album arts every year, and as of now, this is the only time I have made this mistake.

It is impossible for me to refute his claims about the personal time we spent together in Omaha, as it would just be my word against his. I will just say that he should know the omitted reasons that I have grown to feel I was disposed, discarded, and taken for granted by him, and how he has nothing to do with why I hold those memories at that film festival so highly. He also does the classic thing where he positions allowing me to pick the movie in the evening as this favor he did, making me unknowingly rack up debt for a bargain I never consented to.

During all this, he has expressed an existential fear of being harassed for going public about me, and for this reason I want to say that I still hope that this film can be released without a fuss, but his continued participation in a harassment campaign against me has done far more to tarnish his reputation than I ever could. If you really cared about your image, pressure Crim to re-record that drama stream without your embarrassing petty grievances in it & delete your testimony from the callout doc. Thanks.

[parker-artio]

I had the funniest idea….

SO imagine that Jason accidentally takes in a kid, he doesn’t want to do the fostering thing because he knows how emotionally hurting that can be for a kid, so he tries to find a term for it and settles on ‘just taking care of the kid till they’re 18.’

Stupid he knows.

But only a few weeks in and he’s already arguing with this kid over small things, they won’t eat dinner he cooked, they aren’t doing their homework, they’re fighting kids in school, and Jason doesn’t know what to do. So what does he do? HE GOES TO BRUCE.

Bruce is surprised, because considering how much Jason would willingly tell him, he might not even know that Jason’s watching this kid. So when he says ‘How do you manage a kid?’ He thinks Jason got a girl pregnant. But he can’t lecture Jason on this, he’s an adult now, and doesn’t see Bruce as a dad anymore. So he just tries to lightly tell Jason that he has no fucking clue.

Bruce: Well uh, I only got you kids when you were older, plus, I mean, it’s not that bad, yeah? Just some perspective things, probably think about that, and what’s going through their mind and how they’re reacting to it.

Jason who thinks Bruce knows (a chronic ‘I thought I told you?’ Person) and is confused why he said he got all of them older, considering that his kid is like 12-14 ish: Right, perspective.

But the thing is, the advice actually helps.

Jason actually starts looking at their perspective and it helps. A lot. The kid slowly becomes more open, and Jason starts to feel more parental. Then before he knows it he’s going to Bruce asking for advice on how to start the adoption process.

Once again- Bruce thinks he got a girl knocked up- quickly realizes he very much in fact did not, and was taking care of a kid. Like he does.

Bruce, as the realization sets in: Well, I’d ask them what they think about being adopted first…

Jason watching as Bruce keeps blinking and looking away: B are you about to cry?

Bruce tearing up: No, no, I’m not. Got dust in my eyes…



Obviously Jason takes his advice, especially since the first time it helped so much. The kid is hesitant, but after a bit is slowly getting okay with the idea.

But when Jason gets a last minute tip about Black mask going to Cuba for something, he needs someone to watch the kid. And who does he know that loves kids, and would babysit any kid even if they’ve never met the kid? That’s right, Bruce!

So he tells the kid everything they need to know and sends Bruce a single text message saying ‘You’re babysitting.’

Bruce is scared. What does he mean by that?

Then he shows up with this preteen-young teen kid, who’s short and looks like Jason after he was first taken in by Bruce and lived with him for a while (aka a street kid who’s actually starting to eat right and looks healthier) and everything clicks into place. This kid is older.

But Bruce wants to cry- because this is his potential first grandchild, and that’s amazing.

Jason to the kid: It’ll only be three days at most, okay?

The kid: okay.

Bruce a few feet away trying not to sob: Hi- I’m Bruce, you are?

Jason disgusted at Bruce’s such obvious emotions- no one shows their emotions in their face in this family: Chill out, you’re scaring them.

Bonus points if the kids a girl. Jason is a girl dad at heart. Tell me I’m wrong.

[chimerafeathers]

the concept of intentional boredom/tedium in video games is very much a "your mileage may vary" kind of thing and i go back and forth about it in different situations. where does it work? where does it feel earned/worth the mental toll? why am i gonna play a game that is trying to make me miserable?

i can understand this not being the case for everyone (ymmv, after all) but for ISaT i was so fucking fully on board with the repetitive tedium of it all. rubbing my grubby little hands together and going yesssss, yesssssss, make my immersive gameplay experience directly emulate the exact frustrations and anxieties and mind-numbing breakdowns of the player character. remind me, at every turn, the toll this would take on the person living it. make me live their inner monologue before it's ever verbalized on screen.

how strong you feel, compared to the party you're inevitably leaving behind, how weak they seem now. how annoying it is to cut down these same enemies again and again, always pointlessly getting in your way (oh, how convenient that Siffrin feels the same way so intensely that you can get an item that lets him scare them off by sheer force of will before they attack you!). since when was the King's battle--so terrifying, so impossible before--so easy? can't this go faster? you've heard this all before.

let me skip ahead, loop around, treat my character my body Siffrin as disposable, take the fast and easy way to reach the next goal when you're on the verge of an exciting breakthrough, this loop doesn't matter anyway. but ohh, this next loop might be The One, better do this one right and follow the script to perfection. make all the jokes and say all the right things to get the lovely bonding dialogue so you can carry the Best Version of Everyone through to the end. that'll give you the Good Ending, right? can't hurt to try, right? you don't really believe it but this time will fix everything, right?

how generous and wonderful to have so many shortcuts at hand! dissociating zoning out to skip repetitive dialogue, splitting your head open on a rock slipping on a banana peel in the town to loop right to the floor you need, suuuuurely all of this stuff is purely for the Player's Convenience and won't have any psychological impact on our dear protagonist such that it gets slammed back into the player's face as a stomach-dropping reminder that someone's moment-to-moment experience in this time loop still matters, still carries over, still gets riddled with scars even if they can't be seen!

i've played & watched enough games that trivialize/hand-wave game mechanics that it's pretty easy to detach myself from the minutiae of video game decision-making. "this input gets the Good Response" -> "i will continue doing this input." "this option will be more efficient" -> "might as well save some time then." but this game would not let me stop thinking about consequence.

picking Siffrin's favorite food makes them happy! :) it's also the option that makes Bonnie the happiest! yay! -> i keep picking their favorite food -> Siffrin gradually grows sick of something that once brought him joy -> oh. right. that...makes sense, huh.

okay i asked the King what i needed, mann there won't be any tears after the fight is over so i'll have to do the whole ending scene again and that takes a while and i reeeeally wanna talk to Loop, maybe i'll just lose on purpose this time -> OH. RIGHT. THIS IS MAYBE THE MOST PAINFUL WAY FOR SIFFRIN TO DIE BOTH PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY HUH. -> never gonna do that again actually!!!!! the ending isn't that long!!!!

banana peel time! we've got places to be and mysteries to solve! -> (you're a living comedy sketch.) (you wonder if you'll ever be able to smell bananas again without wanting to vomit.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry

it's always cute to see Isabeau's reactions! pick the options that make him blush :3 -> (disgusting. manipulative. it's no wonder he thinks he likes you, you made him feel that way.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry siffrin NO he liked you before any of this happened please don't think of yourself that way--

maybe it won't hit the same for every player (what game can expect to do that?) but holy fuck it hit for me. the way the mechanics let you fall into familiar gamey rhythms but constantly, constantly remind you that this is Siffrin's life you're playing with. the way you end up perfectly in step in the worst ways. muscle memory and habit built up so well that you both stumble when something changes. devastating and delicious

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART NINETEEN

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: you come back with an anxious ridden feeling that becomes worse as time goes by—all because of the stone faced girl.

wc. 3.1k

warnings: very angsty | authors note: sooo the weather….

(nowhere girl masterlist)

(Three months later…)

Mi-Cha was getting more anxious by the minute.

When she went to visit you in your dorm, you weren’t there. In fact, when she asked your roommate about your whereabouts she too hasn’t seen you all day. So, she’s standing outside your dorm with her hands on her hips to ponder. Where could you be? Who will know? A light bulb flickers in her mind when she thinks of the only person in campus who knows everyone in her major.

She sprints to the floor above and knocks on the door of one of the most luxurious dorms in campus. Yoon appears minutes after, her eyes glued to her phone screen which aggravates Mi-Cha.

“Yoon. Earth to, Yoon.” she says snapping her fingers in front of Yoon’s face. She blinks and smiles wearily at Mi-Cha.

“Oh, hey, long time no see. How was your summer?” Yoon asks, batting her eyelashes.

“No need for small talk just tell me where she is.” Mi-Cha huffs impatiently.

Yoon’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “She?”

“Seriously?” Mi-Cha crosses her arms and sighs. “Who’s the only other person that we are connected to?”

After pausing to think, revelation overcomes Yoon’s pristine face. “Ah! Yes—I think she’s at our communal studio. I haven’t seen her around the dorms—“

“But you are our new resident assistant?”

“Exactly! I’m so busy trying to keep everything and everyone in check how am I supposed to know where everyone is at every waking moment?”

Mi-Cha scoffs, even though deep down she knows Yoon is slightly correct. And with that she walks away and out of the dormitory building. There is only one communal studio space for art students to attend whenever they like. She is surprised you’d be there though—it’s not even the first day of classes yet. And in all honesty, she’s a little offended that that’s the first place you go to.

She hasn’t seen you since you left for your Italy trip and you were barely able to reach out to her during your summer there. But from the small tidbits you shared, it sounded like you had a riveting summer in Milan.

After opening the doors to the large and spacious studio, there were mounds of students present with piles of canvases and sculptures ready to be displayed or worked on. She pushes past the students with the goal of finding you in mind.

It feels like Mi-Cha was back at the art gallery with how crowded this studio is. Finally, she thinks she found you and she let out a huge breath of relief.

You were currently helping lift up a large canvas with the help of four other art students and leaned the piece against the wall. Your hair was all over the place and the baggy jean shorts you were wearing got unknowingly stained when you wipe your hands against them.

Whilst catching your breath you wipe the sweat off your forehead, still not noticing your friend running to your direction.

“I missed you so so so much!” Mi-Cha merrily says after trapping you into one of her bear hugs.

“Hey! I missed you too.” you say, grinning. However, there was less enthusiasm in your voice.

“Why haven’t you stopped by to see me? I’m hurt.” she pouts releasing you from the hug.

She eyes you from head to toe. Something was different about you she just couldn’t put her fingers on it. Although, your skin did glow with more radiance, that wasn’t it. And when she looks into your smiling eyes, there was a hint of nervousness surrounding them that was illegible. Maybe she was just overthinking it too much. It has been awhile since she’s seen you.

“I’m sorry. All of my work just flew in and I had to unpack them all otherwise they would have gone ‘mysteriously’ missing.” you say, using your fingers to sign quotation marks on the word mysteriously. “And I stayed longer to help some people who went with me on the trip.”

“And how was it?” she gapes. “Wait never mind don’t tell me—let’s go grab lunch after so you can tell me all about it.”

Your eyes squint. “I hear that the cafeteria food here is…not the best though.”

“Yeah—that’s why I told you to enjoy as much Italian food before coming back. You’ll have to start getting used to the campus food now.”

When you open your mouth to speak a colleague of yours nudges your sides to help them lift up a sculpture tightly secured in a large box. You signal Mi-Cha to momentarily wait for you to finish and she observes you with eyebrows quirking up. She thinks she’s pretty good at reading minds, you seem anxious. The entire time you spoke your eyebrows were knit and the corners of your lips twitching like the smile you had was by force.

You clap your hands together to wipe away dust and debris, your face crestfallen. “What?”

“Did you see her yet?” she blurts out, wriggling her eyebrows. She was louder than she expected.

That’s when you freeze and Mi-Cha catches on. It had to be that girl you were so fawned over this past spring. She saw it in the way your muscles grew tense. You play it off with a smaller smile.

“No, as soon as I got back I had to get everything in my dorm prepared and talk to my counselor about my new tuition.” you explain quietly. “I’m going to stop by later though.”

Now, Mi-Cha feels guilty. She’s so ignorant for thinking that your only problems were your love life when you have financial stressors to take care of.

“Yeah, I know it’s expensive but don’t worry. Focus on school and worry about debts when you get a stable job after.”

“Being an adult fucking sucks.” you grumble.

“Yeah, I know.” she says, clearing her throat in contemplation. “Are you alright though? With you know…life?”

You start chuckling nervously. “Yeah. I don’t know…Ever since I got to Italy I’ve just been stressed and I still feel weird even after coming back.”

“Did you say stress? What could possibly stress you out in Italy?”

Sae-byeok actually.

There is no words in the human dictionary to describe the amount of stress you’ve endured throughout your trip to Italy. All because of the stone face girl you’ve fallen head over heels for. You never felt such intense emotions about someone other than her, it got to a point where she was always luring in the back of your mind.

On the last week of your studies in Italy, you and a couple of your colleagues ventured out to Genoa to relax on a boat. And embarrassingly enough, your drunken thoughts couldn’t see anything but Sae-byeok. It was killing you and for one reason only.

She hasn’t reached out to you ever since you arrived to Italy.

At first you didn’t try to worry. You didn’t have much reception on your phone but whenever you got the chance you made sure to stay up late reach out to Sae-byeok when you knew it would be day time in South Korea. But nothing. Halfway through the trip, you try dialing Ji-yeong asking if everything is alright but nothing. And when you tried reaching out to them the second you got back to Korea, their calls went straight to voicemail.

They’ve gone off the grid and you couldn’t stop your mind from going in circles trying to figure out what’s going on with them.

But now that you’re back you are going to find out.

After you and Mi-Cha head to the cafeteria and catch up on each other’s lives the past three months, you decline her offer to go to a welcome party held at her dormitory wing. You felt guilty not telling her about what really happened with Sae-byeok, but you were so afraid to get her response because she is such a blunt person. What if she would’ve told you that Sae-byeok ghosted you and to move on from her? You are still in denial.

So, after lunch you walk back to your dormitory.

“Hey, what happened to you?” asks your roommate, Lee Gyeong-ja who was currently laying on her bed playing a mobile game. “Haven’t heard from you all day and one of your friends came to ask about you.”

“Busy unloading some stuff from my trip.” you explain flatly. “And I met up with her earlier.”

You kneel down in front of your bed to pull out two bags underneath it. In the bag contains all the stuff you gathered from the trip and each has the label ‘Ji-yeong’ and ‘Kang siblings’.

“Okay…” she trails off before focusing back on her game.

“Bye.” you say breathlessly and walk out the dorm with the bags on each hand.

To make it to their apartment faster, you took the subway rather than the bus even though you prefer taking the latter. The entire journey was stress inducing—you hope that they have a good explanation as to why they haven’t been contacting you.

When you arrive in front of the apartment complex, you took a deep breath in to soothe your mind. You hope they’re alright. You hope to see their faces soon. And you hope they’re thinking the same about you.

You place one of the bags on the floor to knock on their door. Again, you breathe in and out but your heart keeps thumping loudly in your ears. It just got louder when you hear rustling coming from the other end.

Your racing heart stops abruptly to sink down your chest.

“Hello?” greets a man who looks to be in his thirties. He slowly pokes his head out the door to survey you—appearing very suspicious about your presence here.

“Oh uh,” you stammer and look to the side of the door to make sure you got the right apartment number. This was it. You awkwardly smile at the man. “hi. Sorry—two girls around my age used to live here. Do you—Do you know where they possibly…moved to?”

“Two girls?” he questions. Right after, a woman who you assume to be his wife appears behind him. He mumbles something to her and she shakes her head in response. “We aren’t sure—we just moved here last month. But I think I remember the landlord telling us that the old tenants left sometime in the…beginning of summer?” he looks to his wife for reassurance and she shakes her head yes.

“Seriously? Oh my god…” you mutter, your voice trembling. Before they get any more suspicious of you, you bow quickly. “I’m sorry for taking your time. Thank you.”

And with that you grab the bag you had on the ground and make your way out of your apartment.

So, you weren’t just going crazy for no reason…If they weren’t here then where the hell are they? You don’t want to think of the worst just yet. There has to be a fine explanation for this.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

(One week later…)

The bakery is no longer there. Instead, there was a large ‘FOR SALE’ sign on the entire building which includes your old studio apartment. And the only other sign in front of the abandoned building was ‘RELOCATED TO SONJUN.’

You desperately wish that you could drop everything to go to Sonjun and hope Miss Ahn or her bratty grandson could give you answers. If they have any. But you couldn’t fall behind in school, not when it’s all you have.

As if you were in a trance, you kept swirling your line brush around the red acrylic paint. You didn’t notice you were doing this for the past three minutes—but you couldn’t stop thinking about Sae-byeok. It worries you what might’ve happened to her. When she told you she was able to stay a float, was the lying?

You didn’t break away from your trance until faint familiar giggles enter your ears. Blinking, you see Yoon enter the communal studio with her portfolio tote. She heads to the other end of the studio and you just go back to swirling your brush around. It wasn’t until a shadowy figure engulfs you that you peer back up.

“Yoon?”

“Hey!” she beams and bends down to give you a side hug. You awkwardly reciprocate it back by patting her shoulders and frown seeing her pull up a chair beside you. “How was Italy? Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, it was beautiful.” you reply coolly. “How was your summer?”

That’s when she lets out a biggest groan, disturbing some of the students around you. “Awful! First of all, I had to work at one of my parents cafe chains all the way at the end of town because they were short staffed. So, do you know what I had to do? Remove my acrylic nails! Then soon after, I stopped hearing less and less from Yen-ho and he’s seriously gone off the grid because I had to report him missing to the police! But of course they don’t care because of…you know. The criminal stuff. But anyway—yeah I haven’t heard from him since. It was seriously stressing me out that I couldn’t relax properly on my trip to Jeju all July. I hope that all the school work will keep my mind at bay…Seriously why should I be so worried over a prick like him? I’m sorry for ranting but no one besides you would understand.”

“No, it’s okay.” you say, your eyebrows knitting. “But when did you say he went missing?”

“I reported him in the beginning of July after not hearing from him for like over three weeks. Fucking asshole. I need to get over him quickly.”

“And he never mention where he was going or anything?”

She throws you a suspicious glare. “Are you seriously concerned about him?”

“No it’s just…” you say, sighing in frustration. “Don’t tell anyone but remember my friend who you saw at the art murals? Well, she’s moved out of her apartment sometime in June or July and I haven’t heard from her either. And she used to know him. Do you think…?”

“What? Was she a part of his gang or something?” she gasps. When you nod she starts rubbing your back soothingly. “Oh, honey…”

“I know it’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not. I mean…it’s very likely that they joined forces again though.”

“You think?” you raise a brow.

“Do you know how many times Yen-ho vowed to me that he would never go back to the gang? So many times.”

No, that can’t be it. Sae-byeok isn’t Yen-ho. She has too much to risk with Cheol under her care and too much of a caring heart to do that to him. It just seems unfathomable. But, how unlikely could that be? What if she couldn’t find a way to pay rent and asked Deok-su if she could join back in his gang…No. That can’t be it—she owed him a ton of money. That’s not possible—however, this piece of information about Yen-ho is very interesting.

“I’ll—I’ll figure it out. Thanks, Yoon.” you murmur after careful thinking.

She sends you an enthusiastic smile. “Aw, look at us bonding over our love for criminals!”

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

(One month later…)

You were starting to forget how they looked like. Whenever you think of Sae-byeok, the image of her in your mind is blurry and not all there. It’s funny, you thought you’d never forget a face like hers but you can’t even recall her most distinct features—her eyes. You remember them being sharp and cold, but you don’t have the clear picture of it in your head. Now, you regret leaving your sketchbook of all her drawings behind with her. It’s hard to believe it’s been five months.

Luckily, school has helped in some ways to keep your thoughts at bay. You drown yourself in your paintings and sculptures—learning new techniques thanks to your study abroad program you became more skilled in drawing portraits.

You sigh in defeat starting at the fully worked canvas before you. It was another failure. You didn’t get her eyes right again—this is the fifth portrait you have failed to perfect. If anyone knew how much time you were putting into drawing Sae-byeok they’d think you’ll need to be sent away. But you can’t forget her. You just can’t, but your mind is betraying you.

The alarm goes off in the back pocket of your jeans—altering you that you have things in your life you need to do outside of Sae-byeok. You click to turn it off and drape over the portrait with a long piece of fabric.

Texting Mi-Cha, you let her know you will be a few minutes late for dinner and to save you a spot. When she replies back with a thumbs up you put your phone back in your pocket and head over to the building where the financial support center is located.

Because you no longer have an internship and you don’t know when the next one will come, you did your best to sell your paints and sculptures you made back in Italy as a form of income. But it’s hard. After only selling three of your works, you only had enough money to pay a portion of your tuition—a small portion.

“Hi, I’d like to submit a deposit for my tuition.” you say to the worker sitting across the desk who was busy clicking away on the computer.

“Of course, I just need your ID, please.” she says robotically, still starting at the screen. You sigh and slide down your card to her. She grabs it, merely glances at it and starts typing away. After a minute of clicking and typing, her eyes slightly narrow. “Hm…”

“Hm?” you repeat. She throws you a look, making your cheeks go pink.

“It seems like your tuition is entirely paid off.”

Your jaw slackens by the miracle of this news. There your heart goes again, hammering like it was trying to burst out of your chest. “W—What? Are you sure you got the right person…?”

She purses her lips at you but turns to do more typing. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation when she looks at your ID and back at the screen. “Yes.” she answers flatly.

“Could—Could you tell me who paid it off? Because it wasn’t me.”

“The system says it’s been paid off by closed cash. Usually closed cash doesn’t provide a name in our system. I’m sorry but I can’t provide you the information you need. Perhaps it was your parents or legal guardian?”

You swallow back a scoff at her reply. However, that was the only plausible explanation. Was this your parent’s way of trying to make amends with you? But it doesn’t make sense—why now? Besides, your parents aren’t filthy rich it’s not possible for them to pay off your entire tuition in full. Ever since you left for Italy, your entire life began flipping upside down.

“Yeah…Thanks, ma’am.” you whisper, your eyes cloudy with thoughts that you forgot to bow. She grimaces when your back is turnt.

When you step out of the building, you just stand outside to ponder. The first day of October air strikes your burning cheeks, cooling them.

“What the fuck is going on?” you mutter to yourself.

You glance up at the sky and see the sun almost going to meet the horizon. If it’s not night yet, you could still get some answers. So, you pull out your phone and text Mi-Cha that you can’t make it because of a last minute homework you forgot to do. Then you check your phone map and to find the quickest route to your parent’s house.

In spite of the fact that you should feel terrified to meet your parents again, there is numbness instead. You have Sae-byeok to thank for that. At least this time you won’t storm off from your parents bawling your eyes out. Or, that’s what you like to tell yourself at least.

When your dad is the one to open the door, your chest pangs. The wrinkles on his forehead are more visible and his eyelids appear to sag more. He stares at you blankly for a moment before raising his eyebrows up in surprise when he realizes who is standing before him.

“H—Honey…you’re here?” he stammers breathlessly. He opens the door wider to instinctively to let you in, but you just glare at him and remain in your spot.

“Hi, dad.” you greet icily. It infuriates you the way he is looking at you like some wounded puppy when he let you go so easily—twice. They had two opportunities and now maybe three. “I just need to know, did you or mom pay off my tuition?”

“Your tuition?” he queries and pauses to think to himself. You can see the tints in his cheeks get more hue, he was embarrassed. “We—uh, we didn’t. Someone paid it off?”

“Yeah. I don’t know who. Anyways, thanks.” you say, your voice low and flat.

“Wait!” he says quickly. You stop yourself from turning around and look back at your dad, eyes squinting. “How are you? How’s school?”

“Great. I just came back from a trip to Italy. I got offered an internship to study there for the summer.” you say. It felt good to brag—especially with how floundered he looks.

“That’s…wonderful.” he stutters.

Disappointed. That’s how you feel. You aren’t sure what you expected him to say, but not that. You feel ashamed for still wanting your parents praise. When you exhale, a cloud of cold smoke puffs out into the air.

“Bye, dad.” you whisper and spin around.

“Hold on—“

“Yes, I’m still a lesbian!” you bellow unintentionally. His face falls and he’s staring at you blankly—exactly how he looked at you when you packed your things after getting kicked out. Those cruel eyes haunt you. “Have a good life.” and with that you head back to the subway station.

Half a year later, it hurts just the same.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

(Another month later…)

Sae-byeok’s message is loud and clear. She doesn’t want to hear from you anymore. Your only theory is that they all moved to a different location after Deok-su found them. And maybe the reason why they cut contact with you is because they want a fresh start—and you’re part of a haunted past they don’t want to face anymore.

The walk was peaceful. The November leaves were colorful and full of life. The tones of browns and oranges covering the sidewalk gave you hope for a new start. That’s what you love about fall, although the change of leaves is because they’re withered and dead—you portray it as change. That change is for the better and it’ll make life all the more beautiful by the time spring arrives again to wake up the leaves.

This is your last chance. Your last resort and you’re fucking terrified. You officially haven’t heard from them for six months. This is the only other option you have and if nothing comes from it you have to move on. It terrifies you but you’re at a stage in your life where you can’t let this consume you or you will spiral. Even if they don’t want anything to do with you, you just hope they’re okay and most importantly happy with life.

You stand in front of Cheol’s elementary school and you gulp. This is it. If nothing comes out of it, you vow to never look back at the past again. You take a deep breath before stepping inside and to the main office towards the front desk.

“Hello, may I help you?” greets a man around your age with a chipper smile.

You blink at him and struggle to speak at first. It’ll be hard to explain this without it sounding off. “Hi, um, I know this might sound strange but I’d like to know if a student is still enrolled in this school. You see, his sister has gone completely missing and she’s his only guardian so I’d like to know if—if he’s…I don’t know—I guess if he’s okay? His name is Kang Cheol.”

“A—Alright?” his peppy voice wanes. He’s clearly new to this as he glances over at his more senior co-workers. “Let me get back to you on that. Normally, we don’t disclose information about a student unless you’re a parent or guardian but let me see if I can give you that information.”

“Thanks…” you trail off and chew on the inside of your cheek.

From the corner of your eyes, you watch him whisper to his older workers who shot weird glances at you every so often. You unknowingly tap your fingers aggressively against the counter, full on anxious. The waiting is killing you but you have a sense of hope when you see them checking the computer screen. You seriously hope Cheol is okay.

When he comes back, clearing his throat, he deadpans, “So, it says he’s no longer enrolled in this school.”

Your legs feel like jelly. “Huh? Why—“

“I’m sorry that’s the only thing I can tell you since you aren’t a parent or guardian. Which I assume you aren’t?”

Practically in the middle of feeling lightheaded, you feel yourself shake your head. “No. Thanks.” you think you murmur to him and stumble out of the office and out this building.

Once on the sidewalk, you press you back against whatever building you stumbled across and hold back tears. This stress is killing you from the inside out. What the hell happened to them? You don’t even care if they don’t want to see you anymore, you just want to know if they’re safe.

You keep choking back sobs as you were still in public.

Your blurry eyes fall down to the sidewalk and you focus on the leaves. Change—you’re supposed to change. However, you want one last cry.

“Hey—are you alright?” Mi-Cha’s normal tone dies into a worried one when she opens the door to her dorm and sees the state of you.

Your head is ducked low, you’re tightly clutching the sides of your coat, and your body is trembling. When she raises your chin with her hand she gasps at your red face and your even redder eyes.

“I—I don’t know…I just need to hug you.” you croak out.

Without furthering thought she pulls you inside her dormitory, is silently thankful her roommate isn’t here, and brings you to her bed where she solemnly wraps her arms around your shoulders. Your face sinks into the crook of her neck and finally, you let your tears flow like river streams. You two are in this state for a long time, with Mi-Cha rocking your bodies back and forth and you choking on sobs.

Once you finally calm down, you pick your head up and couldn’t stop hiccuping uncontrollably. “I—I don’t think Sae-byeok wants to s—see me anymore.”

She winces and pulls you back into her arms. “Fuck. Hey, don’t worry I’m here if you need to talk.”

But you didn’t want to. You just want to cry your emotions out until there’s nothing left but a void in your chest.

With every tear you shed, you wish it contains the memories of Sae-byeok that you want to forget about. But you don’t know what’s more painful, forgetting or wanting to forget.

If you know yourself, at some point you might’ve loved her. And now that she’s left you for good—you have to turn this love into grief. But grief is just as much a human complexity as it is love, and you aren’t sure how long it’ll take for you to endure it and move past it. It might take you a lifetime to forget about Sae-byeok.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss @everly-summers-solace @we1rdth0ughts @wlvlurvsfimmia

[lumdays]

please notice me, prince!! ♡

au by @alli-ily << i've been meaning to join this au for a little while now hehehe

*click for better quality LMAO,,, sorry i have no idea why it's so fucked up but i did transcript the important stuff down here if you want

sir? dame? siyun (aka azul's worst nightmare)

"though they are very capable, they're quite unpopular with nobles as they tend to disobey even direct orders if they figure that there is a more efficient way to do things. they're also a little too honest for high society's taste."

siyun hails from far away lands, practically another world (hehe nod to them being a yuu). it is known that they have two younger siblings and that their parents are both well but it seems that they are no longer in contact.

...ashengrotto despises them (they give him SO many headaches, FREE HIM 🙏🙏)

some more stuff utc,, ARGHHH I BRAINROT OVER AUS LIKE THIS SO FAST💔💔💔 it's the evil manhwa lover in me

ALRIGHT SOOO.... the reason why i keep mentioning azul is because In My Head (please correct me if i'm wrong/you don't want me making up stuff HELPPP i didn't know what to go off aside that there's a bunch of kingdoms and nobles), he was accused/is suspected of embezzlement and siyun was dispatched to monitor him.

...they might as well be the bane of his existence honestly. embezzlement is likely the one crime he has yet to commit but with a highly competent knight keeping a close eye on him, it's gotten a lot harder for him to do anything that is remotely not outstanding-member-of-society material, which pisses him off to no end (...that's kinda just his own assumptions though LMAO, siyun does NOT care that much about the matters of some rich merchant,, unless someone gets hurt that is).

ANYWAYS. this made me think i should probably write down how they feel about lady ariya and prince shin

starting with lady ariya

siyun truly admires her resolve to clear her family's name. but they also can't help but feel something akin pity for her, the path she chose for herself will be long and arduous, especially alone—very few manage to walk out, head held high and pride intact. still, she seems like a promising young lady and siyun is a hopeful person, "i will assist you should you ever call for me."

prince shin (@liyuviq)

humble beginnings, big responsibilities. it's a bit presumptuous, but siyun sort of relates to the illegitimate prince. perhaps not fully—they never experienced Suddenly Being A Royal and sincerely hoped they never would, even in another universe. however, they can relate to the whiplash, the struggle to cram into a few months—no, weeks—everything the other nobles learned over the years, the stares, the whispers... they remember how it all felt, and when they look at their highness shin, they can only hope that they will rise through it all. "then again, i do know i am not your highness. perhaps you don't feel even a fraction of the dread that filled me back then—i would be very glad if so."

i hope i'm not overstepping 👉👈,, aghh also open for interactions for anyone interested hdhdhhdshd, i haven't checked the tag yet HELP

as for the hypothetical target of their affection,,, i fear it may be butler jade 💀💀........... I'M A SUCKER FOR BUTLER X KNIGHT ARCHETYPE 💔💔💔ALSO I BRAINROT OVER YUNDE 2MUCH💔AH AND quick lore rundown

i imagine their knighthood still stands in another empire—or kingdom,,, sorry my knowledge of the world building here is a little vague HDUAJHF. anyway the point is that they are skilled enough for the royal family themselves to take them under their heavy golden wing—until the ashengrotto accusations and they're given bits and pieces of their freedom back.

I'M REALLY SORRY MOOTS THIS IS JUST ME YAPPING ON AND ON..... but like this au's really sick‼️‼️‼️ tags - @heyhellohihowareyou @elenauaurs @distant-velleity @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @skriblee-ksk @sickle-stick @puowei @jadelover69 @tixdixl @nemisisnemi @angelwishess @theleechyskrunkly @chillygourami @bunniehunn @cheerleaderman UUUH DID I FORGET ANYONE.....

[craziertogether]

mike’s behavior shift & byler endgame confirmation

little yap moment (long rant):

just to start, i wanna say that i was a m*leven lover from s1-s2. given i was young asl, it was a wonderful ship for kids, but as i’ve grown and gotten more into analyses for media it has become clearer to me why my dislike of mike wheeler’s character despite my love for him originally, actually came from a lack of understanding.

so yeah, i truly think the moment i started developing my own byler agenda was in season 3. i had always known that will was queer, season 1 episode 1 with joyce and episode 4 with troy, it was just so clear to me. but i never saw it actually developing into a love story, i actually saw it as a little bit of queerbait when i saw the “crazy together” scene (ik crazy to say but i was also literally 11). but season 3, was like a huge smack in the face that oh mike is 100% the queer one WITH some kind of feelings towards will. i love how we as bylers joke about it? but truly will’s feelings for mike were so masked it’s insane to me.

back to my rant, i was a little caught off guard by mike’s CRAZY behavior switch from likable friend and leader to el’s personal make-out buddy and actual hater of his own best friends (mind you mike was always my favorite character originally, he was the protagonist that was a little unlikable but that’s my favorite kind of character). it wasn’t until my rewatch recently that i totally clicked for me again that mike was so in love with will, i can’t remember who mentioned it but mike inviting will to his house after el dumped him was absolutely unnecessary, lucas was needed but mike just had will there because of his genuine need for will to be there. rain fight outburst and post breakup crawling back to will was so clear that mike valued will on a level unbeknownst to anyone else around him. even beyond the el breakup, mike is lowkey such an ass to everyone else 😭. he needed to be guided by everyone else to apologize to el, lucas, and dustin. but will was like air to mike, he breathes will, the second he hurts will, he immediately crawls back to him because he knows at the minimum that will’s feelings are greater than his own arrogance.

and now season 4? there are so many wonderful analyses out there regarding mikes straight up queer behavior, but i really feel like this season is what fully converted me. btw i was still afraid of this possibility of queerbaiting, i had a strong feeling that maybe i was still reading into it too much but when will’s feeling were CONFIRMED in the first like minute, i knew in that moment that byler endgame was real. like i said above the way will’s queerness was clear to me was no shock, but seeing it be visually shown that he was IN LOVE with mike i was truly convinced in that moment that this was it, they were setting them up to be THE endgame couple. (ps i had NOT interacted with any byler content until very recently, i just had this instinct). and after now having read the analyses and rewatch the season again, i literally felt like my eyes were opened and like the show was spelling it out for us. the california plot line being the MOST boring without byler development, the fights and apologies, the heart to hearts, and van scene all just either fed my confirmation bias or proved to all audiences that this is what we need to be looking at. it is insane that season 4 has like 6 incredibly byler focused deep moments and there’s still byler doubt in my opinion. anyways yeah back to my original point the complete decline in mike’s character development the last two seasons completely confirmed it for me in my most recent rewatch. there was no reason to absolutely nerf his character like that, and if they do set up m*leven endgame, i actually will have lost respect for the duffers but also for my favorite character. but i have full faith that this show would not destroy everything it spent the last decade building up to.

TLDR: byler endgame is imminent and as a once byler skeptic and even m*levin fan, i cannot wait to see this story wrap up in season 5. i need the trailer, actually the whole season but the trailer will do for now.

[demon-at-peace]

hi, so i generally don't like demon twins, like it's fanfiction, but relationships don't work like that, they aren't brothers. Even if they separated at age 6, 7 or even 8.

because you don't remember stuff. You remember a teacher making you cry, the friends you have. With the terrible dynamic portrayed in most of the fics, both of them would likely only hold on to the bad memories. I'm also between 16-18 and it's like that for me.

I was thinking about it, and why don't they have a terrible relationship in these? it makes more sense then suddenly being brothers. Often we see a cruel Damian, with a neglected Danny in flashbacks. And even more common is Danny and Damian dueling to the death to decide and heir.

Logically then the hate would be one sided, Danny would hate Damian, but Damian wouldn't hate Danny. And Damian (after apologies and treating Danny better) he would expect to be forgiven. He was just a kid, he didn't understand surely Danny can see that.

Danny would see someone who tried to kill him, who betrayed him, who left him to die, and of course he'd hate Damian. but a even cooler response would be fear, he was a kid and trauma exists.And normally these start like that, before they smooth it out in a chapter or 2.

but that's not how it works. I think Danny would avoid Damian he'd snap at him, and on principle he'd dislike the bats, I can see him heading to crime alley because they don't patrol there only to meet Jason and panic.

And Damian would chase him, it's his brother, he has a second chance, and the bats would too. And it would end up terribly. Danny runs and hates them so much and avoids them. they also might remind him of Maddie and Jack or Skuller and lead to panic attacks.

So Danny runs for a year, and the Bats regret their actions. they were rash. They lost a brother, they still search, sifting through reports, looking into people, checking data bases for fake ID's.

Danny is paranoid, he's still quips, still a hero, but he has a mask, he changes his speech patterns, he changes his name entirely. He changes his style to be more like Sams, he looks almost unrecognizable. And he's still scared, and on rare instances he still wakes up with dreams from when Damain stabbed him.

of course to make it worse he could become an established part of the JL a couple years or so after he leaves Gotham. so he's finally settling down finally has friends, and he avoids the Bats. No one in the JL know why Danny hates them, why he's skittish, why he looks at them with so much fear.

Oh misunderstandings! please, have them think Bruce hurt Danny, but he's the worst around Robin. Have Jon try to convince Danny that Robin is nice and all Danny can see when he offers to spar is the duel!

So while I personally don't enjoy this in general this is a concept I would read avidly, though this principle would likely be a heart wrenching angst fic now that I think about it. Anyhow thanks for reading my rant.

i'm sure there is overlap on this idea out there, and I had zero intention to plagiarize anything, please let me know too.

edit: apparently there is a fic like this, and all credits go to the author, thanks to the commenter who told me or I wouldn’t have known,

it’s called Broken Bonds https://archiveofourown.org/works/54372952/chapters/137720050

hi found another by stroke of luck

it's called counting constellations

thanks :)

[bitchinbarzal]

Gossip | M Boldy

summary: you can’t date a reporter when you’re an athlete without some fallout.

-

Matt knew this was going to be a problem from the second he introduced you to his teammates.

It was in the way Brock’s easygoing smile turned stiff, how Kirill’s laughter quieted when you walked into the room, how Jake and Rossi exchanged wary glances behind your back. It wasn’t personal—at least, not entirely. It was about your job.

You were a writer for The Hockey Insider, an outlet notorious for gossip pieces that followed the team like a shadow. Kirill had been caught in a dating rumor that nearly wrecked his relationship. Jake’s contract negotiations had been spun into a fabricated feud with management. Rossi had once been accused of partying too hard—never mind that the supposed “wild night out” had actually been his mom’s birthday dinner.

So, when you stepped into their world, there was an unspoken question hanging in the air: Can she be trusted?

Matt had defended you — of course he had. He knew you. He knew the way you analyzed plays more than drama, how you hated the clickbait articles as much as they did. He knew you didn’t write that kind of stuff.

But the doubt still lingered.

And then he saw the text.

It wasn’t like he had meant to snoop. He was trying to find a text from himself he’d sent you important information about.

Boss: We need something on Brock. Preferably messy. Let me know what you’ve got.

Matt felt his stomach drop.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and a moment later, you walked into the room, fresh out of the shower. Your hair was damp, your skin still flushed from the heat, and you were wearing one of his old Wild hoodies — one you’d stolen months ago and never gave back.

You looked at ease, content.

Matt had never felt more off-balance.

“You need something on Brock?” His voice came out sharper than intended.

You blinked, eyebrows knitting together. “What?”

Matt turned your phone screen toward you. “Your boss. Looking for dirt on Brock.”

Your body went rigid.

Matt scoffed, shoving the phone onto the counter. “Jesus, Y/N.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“What I think,” he repeated, voice rising, “is that my teammates were right to be on edge around you.”

You flinched, hurt flashing across your face. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” He let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve been defending you for months. Saying you don’t write that shit, that you wouldn’t sell us out. And now you’re sitting on a story about one of my teammates?”

You exhaled sharply, frustration flickering in your eyes. “I didn’t write anything.”

“But you were going to.”

“No,” you snapped. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why does your boss think you have something?”

Silence.

Just for a second. But it was enough.

Matt shook his head, stepping back like he didn’t even want to be near you. “Unbelievable.”

“That’s what they do, Matt,” you said finally, voice tight.

“They assume I’m sitting on something because I have access. Because I’m around you. Around them.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “And what? You just ignore them? How long before you give in?”

That’s when you laughed.

It wasn’t a happy sound. It was bitter, exhausted.

“Give in?” you echoed, shaking your head. Then you met his eyes, and for the first time, you looked tired.

Defeated, you mumbled “Matt, I quit.”

The words knocked the wind out of him.

“What?”

“I quit,” you repeated, voice thick with emotion. “Because I knew this would happen. I knew they’d want me to sell you out. And I couldn’t, I wouldn’t do that. Not to you, not to Brock, not to any of them.”

Matt felt like the floor had just disappeared beneath him.

“You—” He swallowed hard “You didn’t tell me.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I wanted to find something else first. I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.”

“But it was because of me,” Matt said quietly.

You didn’t answer.

Matt dragged a hand down his face. He had spent so much time worrying about whether you would betray him that he hadn’t stopped to consider the sacrifices you had already made.

“I’m sorry” he said, voice softer now. “I should’ve trusted you”

You exhaled slowly, staring down at your phone like it physically pained you. “Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You should’ve.”

And with that, you turned, grabbed your phone off the counter, and walked out the door.

Matt didn’t stop you.

He wasn’t sure he had the right to.

You and Matt didn’t talk for weeks.

At first, he told himself it was for the best. You had fought, you had left, and maybe that was how things were supposed to end. But that didn’t stop him from noticing the silence. No more texts, no more calls. No more waiting for you after games, no more waking up to you stealing his hoodies.

It was stupid how much he missed you.

The guys didn’t bring you up much—not after that night when you stormed out—but Matt caught the way Brock, Kirill, Jake, and Rossi sometimes looked at him like they wanted to say something. Like they knew.

Still, he pushed it aside. Focused on hockey.

The team was in the thick of the playoff race, every game crucial. After a big win, the locker room was buzzing, laughter bouncing off the walls as guys peeled off their gear.

“Hey, check this out,” Rossi said from across the room, holding up his phone. “Hockey Weekly just put out a piece on us.”

Kirill scoffed. “If it’s that one guy again, I don’t care.”

“No, no,” Rossi said, scrolling. “This one’s actually good.” He cleared his throat and started reading:

“The Minnesota Wild aren’t just a team fighting for a playoff spot—they’re a team built on chemistry, resilience, and a camaraderie that’s impossible to fake. From Kirill Kaprizov’s dynamic playmaking to Brock Faber’s defensive reliability, from Matt Boldy’s quiet consistency to Marco Rossi’s relentless drive, this team has found a way to balance youth and experience in a way that just works.”

The guys hooted in approval.

“But beyond the stats and standings, what makes this team special is the belief they have in each other. Watch them on the ice, and you’ll see it. A team that doesn’t just play together, but plays for each other. A team that, if they keep this up, could be a real threat in the postseason.”

Rossi looked up. “Damn. Who wrote this?”

Jake leaned over, glancing at the byline. Then he froze.

Matt caught the shift in his expression immediately. “What?”

Jake turned his phone around so Matt could see the name at the top of the article.

Y/N L/N

The room went quiet.

Matt felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

He should’ve known. The writing, the insight—it was you. You had always talked about wanting to cover the game itself, not the drama. And now, even after everything, you had still found a way to do that.

And you had written about them.

Not gossip. Not rumors. Just a damn good article about their team. About the things that mattered.

Guilt settled like a weight in his chest.

“I thought you said she quit writing?” Brock said, raising an eyebrow.

Matt swallowed hard. “I—” He didn’t know what to say. Because, apparently, you hadn’t quit. You had just quit him.

“Dude,” Rossi said, shaking his head. “You gotta fix this.”

Matt sat there, staring at your name on the screen, heart pounding.

Yeah. He did.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I read about Johnny with shy!reader (it’s so adorable) and it gave me an idea. Idk to write down HOW they met but Johnny has a huge crush on her pre-relationship and he keeps asking shy!reader out on a date but shy!reader keeps rejecting him. Until she finally accepts going on a date with him. Johnny family are curious why Johnny is acting strange in a good way. Shy!Reader superhero friends are being protective of her. Please feel free to pick any superhero friends of shy!reader

I couldn’t think of anyone other than like Remy (gambit) so he’s here bc I wanted him to be. This was too long.

‘Come on, just one date!’ Johnny exclaims as he looks at you with his brown eyes, the very eyes they made you suddenly unable to maintain eye contact as your gaze suddenly found your hands more interesting.

‘I don’t think so Johnny, it’s not right.’ You try telling him, wanting nothing more than to be his next conquest to be bragged about inappropriately behind your back for points with other disgusting men. You had to admit that Johnny was attractive but his cocky, arrogant personality kind of spoilt any possibility of ever wanting to date him in the first place, that and your friend Remy Lebeau didn’t necessarily take kindly to him nor his careless view on relationships.

‘You deserve someone who’s going to treasure you, respect you and believe in you, not whatever that Johnny boy does to his poor partners.’ He told you one day when you informed him of Johnny’s insistent need to take you out on a date. Remy didn’t like this one bit and would even keep a close eye on him whenever they were on missions together, not wanting you to be in pain when getting involved with a man as vain as the one and only Johnny Storm.

‘This reminds me of a story I’ve read somewhere about a prideful and vain man called Narcissus.’ You said.

Remy rose a brow. ‘What happened to him?’

‘He was so vain and so full of himself that after rejecting a nymph called Echo, he ended up falling in love with his own reflection and ended up dying as a result.’ You replied and Remy couldn’t help but laugh and clap a hand on your shoulder.

‘If only it could be that simple mon cherie, if only.’ Remy says through laughter and you couldn’t help but smile in response before remembering your current situation with Johnny, fiddling with your fingers out of habit. ‘If only.’ You whispered to yourself, hoping that Johnny would grow bored of you and move on.

However Johnny didn’t get bored of you and move on like you had hoped, if anything he only became persistent in asking you out, so much to the point where you were openly rejecting him at least three times a week because of it. You honestly didn’t see what was so special about you to warrant his attention, you were the complete opposite of Johnny in every possible way, you two just wouldn’t work out but for some reason Johnny was heavily insistent that you would.

Johnny frowns at your words. ‘You’ve been saying that for months.’

‘And yet that hasn’t stopped you from pestering me for a date.’ You muttered under your breath as your magic flickered in response to your conflicting emotions. Sure Johnny was handsome, that was a given, but his reputation as a playboy unfortunately proceeds him as you attempted to put distance between the two of you; you weren’t giving your heart to someone who wasn’t going to treasure it. ‘Besides I find it hard that you can’t get a date from anyone else.’ You continued and you swore you saw a flicker of hurt within his eyes after saying this.

‘But I don’t want to date anyone else,’ Johnny cried as he grabbed your hands, causing your magic to spark as his warmth enveloped them, ‘I want to date you, just tell me how I can make my dream a reality my little magician.’ He adds softly as his deep brown eyes searched your own for the answers he wanted more then anything.

‘Quit it with the playboy stuff, it drive good people and draws in the bad.’ You advised him before leaving Johnny standing there as your words echoed within his head, he was determined to get that date with you and if it meant quitting his old ways then he’ll gladly do it, for he had harboured a crush on you the moment you had saved him by using your magic the first day you met. Johnny didn’t care that you weren’t confident or loud, he loved you for who you were and didn’t want you to change in the slightest, however he thought that nothing would ever come to pass between the two of you and he had looked to get his mind off of you by hooking up with other people.

Which in retrospect wasn’t exactly going to earn him any favours in asking his crush out. It also didn’t help that your friend Remy was protective over you but he couldn’t blame the Cajun man, what he could hold against him though was all the threats the mutant had given him in how he wasn’t the man you needed in your life, given the fact that he played love like it was a toy and you weren’t a toy to be played with. Johnny didn’t like it when Remy Lebeau could read him like a book because he knew he was right, and he knew that Remy was only an older brother figure to you and nothing more but that didn’t stop him from getting jealous from how much time you spent with him regardless; another thing that he knew you weren’t at all attracted to.

So if Johnny needed to prove he could change to win your heart, then he’ll gladly change to prove that he could.

After a long gruelling month passes by before you shared a mission with Johnny and news that he had left the playboy lifestyle behind him felt like a dream, something too good to be reality as you didn’t expect him to actually listen to you. So when the mission was over you could already see Johnny making his way towards you but instead of a shit eating grin, he was smiling softly at you and you couldn’t help but find him beautiful in the moment, pretty even as his eyes never once left you at all.

‘Hey little magician, long time no see.’ He greets you and for once you didn’t feel as though you had to force the smile as you look at him.

‘You’ve changed, I didn’t think you’d actually listen to me.’ You replied, cutting to the chase as it was the only thing that was at the forefront of your mind, dying to be let out the moment you saw Johnny act unlike himself or at least the Johnny you were more well acquainted with. Johnny shrugged. ‘You were right, I was only drawing the wrong kind of people with how I was doing things and now I hope I can draw the person I’ve been wanting to for along while.’ He responded with a soft smile that made you feel as though he was alighting a fire within you.

‘And who would they be?’ You asked, although you were more than aware of the answer but you just wanted to hear it come from his mouth and actually believe him.

‘Preferably you and only you if you’re available on this Sunday at 7pm.’ Johnny says as he watches your reaction closely, uncaring of the unamused Remy in the background who was watching like a hawk, you were the only one that mattered and he wasn’t about to let the Cajun ruin all his hard work becuase he didn’t like him being near you. Now normally you would’ve shut him down and walked away but this time was different and you knew it in the way he looked at you, you knew it in the way that you were actually tempting the idea and that you were finding yourself answer before your brain could catch up.

‘Yeah I would love to.’ Was what left your mouth as the way Johnny’s eyes shone like beautiful jewels and Remy’s looks of disbelief was all you could remember from that day. Meanwhile Johnny was back wt the Baxter building, rushing to get himself cleaned up before frustrating himself over what he should wear for your date in hopes of winning you over even more.

Sue, Reed and Ben could only watch as Johnny was smiling like some lovesick fool, constantly looking at his phone every so often as though he was waiting for something before going back to trashing his room for the perfect outfit.

‘Is he okay? He didn’t hit his head did he?’ Ben asked.

‘Looks like Johnny got himself a date.’ Reed replies before squinting his eyes as he watched the aforementioned male once again look at his phone just as it let him know that he had gotten a text. ‘He’s never looked this genuinely happy to go on a date in a long, long time.’ He then adds.

‘Whatever it is, I hope it stays like this because it’s clear to see that he obviously likes whoever this mysterious person is.’ Sue shrugs as she watched her brother knowingly, she knew about you from how often Johnny came to her about the one who kept getting away, you really must’ve set him straight enough for Johnny to actually be serious and change for the better and she couldn’t help but want to meet you even more because of it.

‘I can hear you all you know.’ Johnny said as he adjusted the black tie that completed his suited attire, he looked smart and handsome, something he never did at family dinners at all but for you he’d pull out all the stops even if it meant being in a expensive suit that he’ll never wear again. ‘And they’re here so don’t be embarrassing me okay?’ He adds sarcastically as he pats Reed on the shoulder, nudges Ben and hugs Sue before rushing to meet you by the entrance, his smile never once faltering at all as it only seemed to grow bigger upon his face to the point it hurt him.

Johnny didn’t care as he was quick to usher you in, he didn’t care that Reed, Ben and Sue were just behind him watching you both because they were bound to find out about you sooner or later, especially his sister whom he went to the moment you told him to drop his playboy act for advice almost immediately. Johnny didn’t care about anything because you were standing before him looking as beautiful as ever.

‘Hey.’ He says.

‘Hi.’ You replied.

You both smiled widely at each other for a good minute or two, much to Sue’s delight, secretly happy to see her brother happy and in the presence of the person who made him that genuinely happy. ‘You going to invite your date in or stare at them a little while longer.’ Ben interiors the cute moment, causing Johnny to look at him unamused while you fiddled with your hands that sparked with magic.

‘Dude.’ Johnny said but Ben only shrugged his shoulders.

‘What Ben wanted to say,’ Reed stepped in as he offered you a welcoming smile as did Sue as she stood next to him, allowing Reed to put his hand on her waist to pull her into his side as her hand easily fell to his chest, ‘welcome to the family y/n.’

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Chapter 16

  1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10   11   12   13   14   15

Arranged marriage AU

Interact with this linked post to be added to the tag list.

Entire chapter is Dion’s/Ash’s POV, takes place during the day of chapter 14 during the beginning scene of when Dion and Reader share a moment that is not nice in her mind. He is also out of character again lmao

Edit: LMAO I FUCKED UP THE TITLE OF MY OWN FIC. can you tell I wrote this entire thing in one setting while very tired? God now I need to check the other chapters lol

NOTE: Dion is having a very small crisis towards the end. Also, I do not know how to write fight scenes. I’m also getting kind of tired of saying ‘male’. Also two chapters within two days!? I'm on a roll baby! (I will proceed to not update for at least a week since life gets in the way/motivation/ideas won't come to me)

Warnings: slight yandere themes, themes of obsessive and possessive behavior/thoughts, toxic marriage/relationship, murder, blood, threats of injury/murder, slight torture (probably?), mention of divorce (it almost does not end well, rip Ash lol), Dion accidentally gets hurt (it’s his own fault), attempted murder, mention of past murder, implied murder (I think?), implied threats of injury, thoughts of imprisoning the reader at the end but he decides against it, implied stalking, HEAVY VIOLENCE Dion’s actions are toxic no matter how you look at it. Please tell me if I missed any.

NSFW-ISH WARNINGS:  (NO SEXUAL ACTIVITY ACTUALLY TAKES PLACE) suggestive, implied vaginal pain (I think), throw back to their first time, implied perverted thoughts (Dion), Lant once again being a pos, encouraging Dion to force himself on the Reader, implied/mentioned past sexual activities, implied past Dub-con. Please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANIZED AS THEY ARE EXTREMELY DANGEROUS AND TOXIC.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS, BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG FANDOM RELATED THINGS (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI

“How's married life?” 

Boredom fills the voice of the redhead doctor as he dabs a cotton ball on the patient’s wound, crimson soaking into the fluffy white cotton. Once done treating it, he starts to wrap it up a little too tight, irritated that a certain Agriche got distracted, slipped down a slope full of sharp rocks and thus, sliced his arm open. So unlike him and yet, he still saw it coming from miles away.

God forbid if anyone in this hunting party listens.

“... why are you asking?” Dion questions back, narrowing his eyes, glaring daggers into the very doctor who’s treating his wounds. Still, it’s not like Ash would harm any of his patients, as he was well above that. Even with someone like him.

However, Dion Agriche often challenges his views and morals. He had always thought of the second eldest as a fool - however, ever since he got engaged to you, he became more so of one. While smart and talented in many areas - hunting, sword fighting, ballroom dancing, leading hunting parties for both monsters and animals alike, maybe a musical instrument or two if memory serves correct, and of course, assassinting - by the Gods, is his personality a nasty one.

“Am I not allowed to? After seeing the mess she was after your first night… I worry for her. Poor girl probably lost faith in God the moment she saw your face.” Ash bites back, tying the bandage up and securing it with pins before patting it down hard. He holds back a smile when THE Dion Agriche flinches at the pain.

It doesn’t matter if it was physical or emotional - pain is pain. Although, it would be better if it was both, finally hitting his employer where it hurts the most. But Dion always bites back.

“You’re rather mouthy for someone I could cut down easily.” Dion's threat is empty, but the urge to throttle the doctor remains. While he wouldn’t kill the man, putting him in a full body cast would settle some things.

Ash only sighs with a shake of his head. Gesturing your husband to put his shirt and black arm sleeves back on, the redhead starts to clean and put his medical supplies away. Currently, the two of them are alone in a tent that was hastily set up, the rest of the hunting party members outside eating dinner. The sun had barely set.

“Come now, I even tended to the poor girl as a free favor. Surely, answering a question or two isn’t that hard - consider it payment for that black eye I left with.”

“And I’ll leave another one on the other eye.”

“... why must you always be so violent? It’s clear that your wife isn’t fond of violence - much less you.” He hits where it hurts, patting the ‘poor’ man’s shoulder as he buttons up his uniform shirt. He watches with great interest when the black haired noble stiffens before resuming his task.

‘So, it’s not going all that great…’

“I mean, it’s only natural for me to ask, taking the fact you personally invited me to the wedding into account.” Ash continues to dig for answers, enjoying the way his scarlet hues become hollow and unfocused. Had he been a better man, the doctor would have pity the newly wed noble some more. 

But Dion Agriche is nowhere close to even a decent person.  

“It’s…,” his low and tired voice trails off before he stands and straightens his clothes out, “fine. Nothing for you to worry about.” A lie paired with another lie. How unlike him. 

“Hm. Sure.” 

Dion leaves the tent without another word, leaving the doctor behind.

As soon as he steps out, one of his men rushes over to him. Dion's mood only sours more, not wanting to interact with anyone just yet.

“Sir, we haven’t found any traces of the monsters. The entire area is empty.” The jet black haired noble can’t stop a brow from raising. 

The brunette delivers the news in a hurry, out of breath. Your husband notices the way he tries to keep his voice down, eyeing everyone behind him. Weird. 

Closer inspection revealed the dirt on his boots and leaves in his hair. But towards the chest, there’s a speck of red on the purple accents that’s barely hidden away by the cloak. 

It’s even slightly damp. His sleeves look a bit too short as well. The gloves don’t look right, not fitting the fingers, slightly sliding off with each gesture of his hands. Scarlet eyes zone in on them before returning to the soldier’s face.

The hair looks a bit lighter. The eyes are a bit deeper.

“How far did you go?” Dion asks as he comes back down to earth.

“Oh!” The soldier straightens up before going on to tell him the details. Your husband listens with little interest, already looking at the area from where the soldier just came from. And then, he glances around the camp, eyes landing on each person once. Once he’s done with relaying the information, Dion walks past him. 

The brunette follows. “Is something the matter, sir?” He follows until the chatter of the camp becomes distant. He runs into Dion’s sturdy back as the man comes to an abrupt stop. Gently rubbing his nose, the shorter man backs up.

“I must admit you have guts.” Dion’s voice is low, mockery laced in it despite ‘praising’ him. 

“...huh?” 

In a flash, his gloved hand slams the other man’s neck against a tree trunk. The bark bites into the exposed skin of his neck while his face turns red. Gasping for breath, the man makes a futile attempt to claw at Dion’s gloved hand.

His legs kick and kick, but it does little to help. Scarlet eyes stare at him emotionless, and the sight of the glowing orbs sends chills down his spine. “It’s amusing how you thought you could replace one of my men.” He chuckles low and deep, increasing the pressure on the poor man’s neck.

“But I have memorized each and every one of their traits - from their eye color to the way they even walk. Not to mention I didn’t order them to look for any monsters in the near vicinity.”   

The black haired man considers snapping his neck right at this moment. But his actions are halted when he hears a twig snap under someone’s foot.

He scowls once the familiar voice reaches his ears. His eyes narrow at how annoying the new addition sounds.

“Is this really necessary? How about we find out what happened to the victim before killing the perpetrator,” Ash advises as he gets closer. He stops once he’s two feet away from the now angered man.

Close to being enraged but not yet, irked that one fool thought he was stupid while the other had just interrupted his actions.

“Dion.” Ash tries again. “Ask questions first. You can do whatever with him later, after we get answers.” 

A hiss of annoyance and Dion drops the man. While he’s coughing for breath, with his boot Dion delivers a hard kick to the imposter’s stomach that has him wheezing for breath. Ash sighs in exasperation at the scene unfolding before him. 

‘Once a brute, always a brute.’

“Talk. Maybe I’ll be merciful depending on your answers.” 

“Arg! W-wait, fuck, wait!” He raises his hands as he surrounders. “I’m not the one who killed him - I was just given the uniform. Honest!”

The two standing men share a look.

“Regardless of who killed him, didn’t you at least consider that maybe everyone would notice you weren’t originally part of the party?” Ash squats to the enemy’s height, observing the hand mark that now decorates his neck. “Unless you’re an idiot.” 

“I wa-wasn’t supposed to get too close to the others… just to lure you away.” He stares up at your husband the entire time while clutching at his stomach. Saliva drips from his mouth as he shakes. He looks more pathetic than a terrified dog.

“How far? I’m assuming just a bit further away from here.” The Agriche continues the integration. His head tilts when the idiotic imposter nods. 

Ash looks up at him. “Should we call for reinforcements? It’s probably not a good idea for you to go alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have you.”

“...huh?”

- - -

Against his own will, Ash follows close behind the prisoner and warden. His arms are wrapped around himself as a cold breeze starts to pick up. His long red hair sways in the wind as Dion’s hood flops back due to the direction of the sudden wind.

“I’m not a fighter, you know this.”

“Right.”

“I’m a doctor - I help the wounded, I don’t give injuries. I don’t even have the training of a swordsman - unlike you.” Ash continues to complain, wanting nothing more than to kick your husband straight in the ass. 

“Right.” Dion’s one word replies are dismissive - the doctor doubts he’s listening at all. 

All the while the brunette is being dragged by the collar. He only listens in silence as the two assumed co-workers or something of that sort have a one sided argument or conversation. He can’t tell what it was. 

“You have like what, thirty men?”

“Thirty five.” He takes a pause before correcting himself. “Well, now it’s thirty four.”

“Thirty four? And you choose me, a weak and mild doctor -”

“More like an annoying one,” Dion cuts in, starting to regret bringing Ash along. He forgot how… yappy he can be. Even with the amount of money he pays him, he always has something to complain about. 

“... If your wife ever divorces you, I’ll help her in every way I -”

SNAP

Twigs break in half under your husband’s feet, the prisoner choking as the taller man turns on his feet so quickly it gives him whiplash. Ash immediately shuts his mouth as shadows start to cover the sharp features of Dion’s face. His eyes glow in the moonlight. His scarlet eyes are narrowed, filled with unsaid threats, glare so sharp it cuts into his very soul. 

The redhead takes a step back as his employer towers over him. He breaks out into a cold sweat, the forest having become silent - like every animal in the vicinity sensed the bloodlust of this obsessed man and went into hiding. 

It feels like death itself is breathing down his back, his stomach twisting and turning painfully. His mouth becomes dry, and he can hear every breath Dion takes. So, this is what it feels like, to be on the sharp side of Dion’s blade.

He gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. The air becomes suffocating. 

“... it was a joke.” Ash says slowly, unable to look away from the grim reaper. A quick glance to his hands shows that they are both tightly clenched. The enemy is shivering in fear as well, worried for his own safety.

One wrong move and he’ll lose his head, it doesn’t matter if he wasn’t involved with the conversation. The fact he’s here at all spells out his doom.

This rage was different from the one that was directed towards him. He doesn’t know who the wife - you are, but at the mention of divorce, Dion became a different man. A worse man.

Did you mean that much to him? Or was it a pride thing?

“...A joke? I didn’t realize my marriage was a joke to you.” Husky and deep, your husband’s voice sends chills down the other two spines. Each step carries weight and the poor man dragged along regrets ever taking the job. 

“No, I don’t think your marriage is a joke… I’m sure she’ll open up to you. Eventually. Just a bit.” Trying to soothe the pissed man proves to be futile.

Ash doesn’t understand why Dion was so smitten with you. You were strangers prior to the engagement - only shared a space in the ballroom without interacting with each other. However, one memory that will never be erased from his mind was when the then nineteen-year-old had pointed at you with his red eyes and declared to the doctor he would marry you during a ball that took place a year ago.

Right after you and the Agriche accidentally locked eyes.

Ash always knew he was mental. Just not to this degree. 

“Listen, I’m sorry; I overstepped. Let’s just get this done - the faster we finish the faster you can return home. Maybe not into her arms, but at least you’ll see and hear her voice. Right?”

At the mention of that, the murderous man calms a little, but the looming threat of being cut down is still in the air. In the moonlight, your husband looks imposing, his red eyes glow as his short black hair moves along with the wind - all he’s missing is the scythe, standing tall and oh so close to putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Ash slowly lowers his hands when Dion sneers at him one last time and turns his back. Tension still in the air and in everyone’s body, they continue the walk. Each step is on the verge of being heavy, but caution prevents them from dragging their feet. The captive was soon thrown over Dion’s shoulder, the sound of dragging getting on his nerves while Ash brought up the amount of noise it made. 

The captive and Ash stare at each other in silence. He almost feels bad for the man, but the doctor quickly reminds himself that he was his employer’s enemy - if he pities him he might cave in and help. But helping would mean that Dion would cut his pay, assuming he doesn’t put him six feet under. 

Or both.

“... we’ve been walking for a bit now. Maybe you should turn around to let the man get a view. We might have taken a wrong turn.” The doctor suggests as Dion hums, considering it. He halts and drops the man who lands face first on the ground. Dirt gets in his eyes, groaning in pain as he rubs it out. 

“If you try to run I’ll cut your legs off.”

“And this is why you don’t have any friends.”

The captive listens in confusion, baffled that there’s someone who can shit talk the infamous Dion Agriche and live. A pause and he stands to his full height, a head shorter than your husband. Dusting himself off, he quivers under Dion’s sharp gaze. His voice cracks as he looks around before giving them directions. 

Or at least, attempts to. 

Swoosh 

Thud!

“Wha!?” Ash backs away as an arrow impales the imposter’s head. He falls to the ground immediately, eyes becoming lifeless. Blood pools underneath his head as some drips down his face. Dion whips his head to the right, where the arrow came from. 

Swoosh

Before it can hit him, Dion catches the arrow with his hand after rushing in to save Ash. He snaps it in two easily. The forest becomes quiet. Both men look to the right, but sense nothing. 

The Agriche feels a hit to his pride once he realizes that he had just lost his prey. His scowl deepens, and Ash squats to investigate the dead body that lays on the cold ground. 

Gently, he lifts the head, getting a good look at the fatal wound. Upon closer inspection, the head of the arrow was dipped in a purple liquid - most likely poison. He glances at the man standing behind him, but quickly returns his attention to the corpse. 

‘Not that it matters if he got hit… he’s immune to most if not all poisons. Oh, but what if he’s not immune to this one?’

The doctor mentally questions as he looks over his shoulder again. Only to be met with the sight of Dion licking the arrow head, tasting the possible poisonous liquid without a second thought. Ash blinks blankly.

‘Are all Agriches like this?’

“It’s poison -” the black haired man starts before he gets interrupted, holding the urge to throttle his employee back. It’s so tempting.

“Obviously -”

“- that’s made from Mellow light*” He finishes while he glowers at Ash. “How unfortunate. Had I known it was drenched in it I would have let it hit you.” A crooked smile plays on his lips as the redhead furrows his brows at the younger man's ‘teasing’. 

“Ha ha. That’s enough from you - what do you want to do with the body?” He looks at the corpse next to him. “Should we burn it? Or bury it?” 

“We’ll bring it with us.” Answer your husband. Without another word, he grabs the corpse by the collar of the shirt and drags it alongside him. “It’d be interesting to see their reactions.” 

Ash stays quiet. 

- - -

“Where’s the doctor and the young master?” 

“I saw them heading that way…”

“Were we abandoned?” 

“Do you honestly think they would do that? Master Lant would have a field day if the young master just up and left. Even if he’s the favorite, he wouldn’t be able to get away with doing such a thing.” 

Chatter fills the air as the soldiers scratch their heads. Stars twinkle in the night sky, and yet despite the pretty sight, only tension is present. Everyone is tense as some look around them to make sure nothing or no-one surrounds them.

“Actually,” one young man starts after he looks around, “where’s Adam? I haven’t seen him since we got back.” 

“Maybe the young master disposed of him.” One says casually.  

“Or he was eaten by a monster and that’s why the other two left - to investigate. It’s normal for them not to say anything sometimes.” Another man offers up, scratching his head despite the implication that their fellow soldier is dead somewhere.

It’s a normal occurrence they’re used to seeing rather than experiencing - it was only a matter of time until someone from their group would die in action or get disposed of by one of the Masters.

Despite their unease, they stay at the camp, weapons ready and alert about their surroundings. The night was still young and the person in charge was missing. 

- - -

They stopped at an abandoned cabin. However, like the fools they are, chatter is loud enough to be heard from outside, and a lantern was lit inside, showing the silhouettes of people through the windows. Two people stood guard outside, Dion and Ash hiding near the trees. 

“Talk about being obvious,” Ash mumbles under his breath, staring at the sight with furrowed brows. Wasn’t this a little too easy? Out in the open, did they think that the night alone would conceal their presence?

Or maybe this was a trap. Making it look too easy so attackers would act cocky or something along those lines. Acting without thinking. Makes it easy to -

“This is dull.” Dion walks out into the open, clearly having no intention of staying hidden. Unlike the swordsman, the doctor says in hiding. He sighs, shaking his head as he quietly prays for the poor souls. Three strikes of his sword and both are on the ground, dead. One with a slash to his neck and the other was pierced with Dion’s sword to his head. Their bodies fall to the ground with a ‘thud’. 

Then, he kicks the door in without warning, caution thrown into the wind, the corrupted noble acting out of character. Slowly, the doctor follows after, watching from the doorway as your husband swings his sword to slash someone’s eyes, making them blind. The Agriche jumps back when one of the men thrusts their sword with all his might towards your husband’s chest.

He deflects it easily. 

From the doorway, Ash witnesses as the younger male swipes his opponent from his feet, his booth making contact with their own, causing the enemy to trip over. Dion wastes no time in bringing his sword down, blood splattering on his boots and floor, the hem of his cloak also now stained as he kills him. There is no remorse in his red eyes. 

The doctor shivers. 

Two capable men remain. They look at the brooding figure like he was a beast - and perhaps he was, the man emotionless when it comes to his victims. Shaking in their boots, their hold on their sword’s hilts loosen. Their eyes are so wide it’s cometical.

“Remember to leave one alive,” Ash shouts from the doorway. Dion doesn’t spare him a glance as he rushes forward, and another man is killed. Blood is shed and none of it is from him. 

The man who was blind by the Agriche writhes on the floor, palms pressed against the wound as he tries to soothe it. He’s also sobbing, and for a moment, the sound reminds your husband of you.

He’s quickly ripped out of his thoughts as his opponent dashes towards him, lifting his sword and is about to bring it down before Dion just… stabs him in the chest. The sword falls to the floor with a clatter as the man cripples over in pain. Slowly, life fades from his eyes, your husband taking it upon himself to end his life faster.

The sight is reflected in scarlet eyes and their owner feels nothing. He’s all but a canvas painted a bright red, no more room for anything else to be added, black fading at the corners.

The wails of the now blind man reach his ears. He turns on his feet, realizing he should have let one of the enemies who could still see live. A blind man can only help so much with directions. 

Dion takes a quick glance around the one room cabinet only to realize one thing - there are no arrows. Whoever the archer was, they were not here. His eye twitches but he calms himself as he looks at the injured man on the floor, blood dripping from his eyes onto the wooden floor.

His steps are heavy, the floorboards creaking under his weight. Ash reaches the new victim before Dion does. He only stares, standing above him as the doctor checks out the gash. 

“F-fuck! You - you -” The nameless man stutters out before he stops to sob, the pain unbearable. Ash doesn’t blame him.

“He’ll kill you if you keep talking without permission.” A half-lie, the doctor giving your husband a look. “Just keep your mouth shut until spoken to.” Reaching into his coat's inner pocket, he brings out a small bottle full of some type of medicine. 

Dion scoffs as the doctor rinses out the wound, dusting himself off as the wails get stronger. Louder. What was the point of performing first aid? It’s not like he’ll live for long.

Without heistance, Dion kicks the man in the stomach once Ash is done ‘treating’ him. He’s getting impatient - their idiotic and poor attempt to kill him, to trick him was only making the length of his mission longer. He could be with you right now. Watching as your chest slowly rises up and down as you sleep, as his insomnia prevents him from joining you.

He could be in your shared bed by now, the only time you don’t squirm under his gaze. When he can trace the contours of your face with his eyes, wishing that he could do it with his fingers instead. 

He directs his attention back to the matter at hand. Thinking about you only distracts him.

“Talk. The longer you lie or stay quiet, the longer I’ll beat you.” Not a complete lie. He swears he’s trying to be a bit less brutal. For you.

But it’s hard when it was hardwired into his very being at a young age.

“I-I don’t -”

THWACK

Another kick to the stomach that has the man wheezing. Drool flies from his mouth as he doubles over in pain. His entire body feels wrecked, his eyes fucked for the rest of his life, no matter how short. Breathing hurts but his lungs won’t stop seeking for oxygen. The burning sensation almost makes him wish he was dead. 

“Ugh… I-I was ju-just ordered to be stationed here…” He braces himself for another kick that never comes. However, he doesn’t delude himself into thinking that the threat before him has decided to let him rest. He knows that Dion is planning something else. 

And he’s scared to find out what.

“So you’re mercenaries. Who hired you?” The interrogation continues. 

“I-I didn’t see his fa-face… he wore a ma-mask. Dark blue. A-a bit shorter th-than you." The mercenary gives details as he prays that his death will be a swift one. He knows he’s not leaving alive. 

- - -

The matter was out of their hands now. He has to report everything to Lant, and wait for further instructions. It’s a routine he hates.

He’s treated no better than a show dog.

“At least you’re almost done with the original task.” The doctor tries to be positive.

Dion doesn’t answer as he brings the blind mercenary with him. Unlike with the first one, he carries this one over his shoulder the entire trip back to camp. It’s quicker and easier, while dragging him would slow him down a bit. 

It doesn’t make him dislike it any less. 

“Surprised you kept him alive.” The doctor stares at the unconscious man as he walks behind Dion. “What about the rest of the bodies?”

“We leave them as a message,” is all your husband says. What a crude thing to do, Ash thinks. But he doesn’t comment on it further. 

By the time they reach camp, the soldiers look on in shock as their leader returns covered in splatters of blood with a man on death’s door slung over his shoulder. 

- - -

  “...you want me to do what?”

“Take the money and buy the necklace I told you about earlier. I’ll either be kicked out or they’ll run away immediately as soon as they see me.” He gestures to his messy appearance.

“Just take off your cloak! Wash your face! Besides, what will your wife think if she ever finds out I was the one who got it!? She’ll think that you’re lazy and it’ll only make her view of you worse!” 

The hunting party is on the outskirts of a town they passed by on their way to the hunting grounds. Dion stares at Ash with money in his hand, silently ordering him to take it and buy a necklace that matches your pretty and lovely eyes. 

Dion had passed through the town himself a few weeks ago while out on a different mission. Curious, he decided to check out the local jewelry store. He was only supposed to take a peek, not leave with plans to buy a certain piece. The only reason he didn’t get it right then and there was because he forgot his wallet. 

He still holds that against himself to this day. While it’s true he could have used his status as being part of the Black Clan, it didn’t sit right with him. How soft has he become?

It’s all your fault. And yet, he doesn’t hold it against you. It’s impossible to do so.

“... I suppose you’re right.” 

“Then go get it yourself!” 

The blind and unconscious mercenary is forgotten on the carriage that also holds some monster parts.  

The soldiers in the background try their best to ignore their conversation. But it’s hard when the doctor’s frustration is bursting through the streams, clearly done with their leader. While it was common knowledge among this group of how the two butt heads, it’s a secret outside of it.

For a mere common doctor to go against a child of Agriche, it would be a death sentence. Especially with his occasional condescending remark or tone that would bring punishment or even death for anyone else. However, for whatever reason, Ash Katopodis was the only one who ever lived without injury after shit talking Dion Agriche. The first time it happened, they waited with baited breath for the doctor to fall to the ground, dead. 

The second time it happened they thought it was fluke. 

Everything after that showed that he had a privilege that no-one else ever will have. It’s curious how he’s the only one. 

One time, a soldier, a stupid one, who overheard Dion’s men talk about it did try to snitch on them to Lant, hoping to bring down Dion’s reputation. Safe to say his death wasn’t quick and painless. After that, they all realized that the only reason Dion kept them around was because they knew when and how to keep their mouths shut.

Still, it was entertaining for a man below Dion in status to lose his temper with the crimson eyed noble. 

Even if they can’t hear every word. 

“Take off the cloak - oh. Right. The Agriche crest.” The sudden memory of what’s engraved into that uniform hits Ash hard. How stupid of him to barely remember.

“You there! Come over for a second.” Not waiting for Dion’s response, Ash calls over one of the soldiers. He walks over in confusion, slightly irked that a doctor dared to order him around. But due to his leader being there, he keeps his mouth shut.

“Y-yes?” The man looks at both of them with uncertainty in his eyes. Worried, he keeps himself from turning around to avoid your husband’s eyes. 

“Can you lend him your cloak? Just for a bit.” 

Dion glares daggers at Ash.

- - -

“We-welcome! How may I help you to-today?” Open twenty-four-seven, Ash watches as Dion had knocked on the door of the store, deciding to stay in his stained clothes and dirty boots while staying outside, not staining the store’s floor. How benevolent of him.

The owner, who was originally confused and slightly annoyed, quickly changed tune once he saw the two men. Since he had met Dion before, he knew who he was. Which meant his automatic fear and willingness to work with him and not send him off only made sense.

“The necklace,” Dion starts while recalling how it looks, “the simple gold one with a small (e/c) jewel in the middle - how much?” He knows it’s genuine after the first time he examined it. What he forgot was the price.

This isn’t like him. None of this is. But the second you entered his life, he’s been… different. 

The owner blinks before answering. “Oh, that one? It’s 1240 - but for you, I’ll only charge half.” Business is still business to this man, clearly. Still, seeing how it’s an Agriche who’s his customer, he doesn’t want to test his luck too much.

It’s also amazing how he memorized the price of each and every one of his goods. 

“Alright.” Dion doesn’t try to negotiate to lower the price further. Ash watches in amazement as the exchange comes to an end as the gift is placed in a small elegant blue box that’s carefully placed into his pants pocket. 

- - -

Ash left the party before reaching the Agriche estate.

Everyone else goes their own ways once everything is reported to Lant, the head of the family scowling at the news. Perhaps too tired to care much, considering the time, he dismisses everyone without incident. Everyone but Dion, that is.

“The girl didn’t leave your room today. Were you too rough before departing?” His father takes a puff from his cigar as he questions his son on a matter that frankly, doesn’t concern him. His ugly smirk only makes the context worse.

“... she’s still getting used to ‘it’.” A simple lie that has his father chuckling. It’s nails on a chalkboard, making his ears bleed. 

“Interesting. I never thought you would be that type.” One more puff after a suggestive line. “Well, it’s late - you should get some rest. Or don’t, depending on your mood. It’s not like she can deny you.” 

His hands form fists before they relax. Getting mad here wouldn’t help. Even though every fiber of his being is enraged that Lant is treating you like a sex toy - then again, in his eyes, you probably are. A nice little breeding tool given to him, his son.

He ignores the urge to give in and punch him. 

He wonders how long he’s had these violent feelings towards him.

“Yes, father.” And with that, he leaves. 

The walk to your bedroom feels longer than what it is. Too long. Even so, he doesn’t rush, knowing that you prefer it when he’s gone. A part of him does feel guilty about it, really. At times, he does consider separating himself from you physically - as long as you’re married, as long as you don’t look at anyone else, as long as you belong to him, it should have been fine.

And, truthfully, it was, at first. He was content with the knowledge that you were his wife and he was your husband. Looking from afar would sate his needs, small dinners here and there would have been better than fine. Just hearing your voice would improve his mood, and sharing a bed with you was nicer than nice. 

That day when you were sitting on the floor and fell backwards, head resting on his legs, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. 

Although, looking back on it now, you probably took it differently.

The night where you allowed him to touch you, his fingers on the bare skin of your back, how loose you were with him, his resolve started to crumble. He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have acted in a suggestive way, either the position sending his mind places that you clearly didn’t appreciate nor agreed with. He should have gotten up the moment he was done with untying the strings and not imply he wanted to make you cum with both his words and actions.

His behavior that night only served to drive you away further. 

You both had your first time together, which was amazing - but he does regret how it went. He should have been softer, kissed you, whispered praises in your ear as he slowly, inch by inch, entered you, said you were beautiful because you were, because you are. 

But, shamefully, he was caught up in his head. Too eager to take you, to become one, his actions only worsen your impression of him. He should have been better. Instead of trying to hold himself back which only made him look disinterested, made him look selfish with sexual pleasure, he should have given in a little bit, at least with making you cum and sweet words he should have said instead of calling you cute only when you started to cry.

Maybe then, you would be more welcoming to fleeting touches and even accept a kiss to the forehead or at the very least, hold his hand. But now you only see him as a perverted creep, and no matter how hard he tries, everything only backfires on him.

He has no-one to blame but himself.��

He pauses once he reaches the bedroom doors. It’s only now does he realize he didn’t wash up - still dirty and covered in specks of blood. Dirt in his hair, he wonders if he stinks or just smells like the outside. Or maybe that would smell bad to you too.

His eyes glaze overs at the thought of you shooing him away - can’t he just spend a few minutes with you? Maybe he should just… lock you up. That way, you wouldn’t be able to avoid him. You wouldn’t be able to give your attention to anyone else, if he just hid and locked you away all for himself.

A pause before he sighs through his nose. Not a good idea despite how tempting it is.

He’ll just take a peek. To see if you’re asleep or not. He’ll leave to wash up as soon as he sees you before going in.

His thoughts are interrupted when his hand starts to turn the door knob without his knowing. He caves.

Only he caves in once he sees you on the terrace, in nothing but your sleep attire. A frown pulls at his lips - it’s slightly windy - he knows this is only an excuse to get closer to you, but an obsessed man can only hold back for so long. In the beginning, he was satisfied with just being married to you. But your personality, your real one that shined through in the past, was addicting. Your skin was so warm and hair soft, and the way you  had clung to him during your first night would have eventually caught up with him, wanting to hold you in his arms again.

It didn’t have to be in a sexual manner. Your genuine sweetness was never meant for him and he knows this. But, at times, it does hurt a bit that you just don’t remember past events, no matter how small.

Quietly, by reflex, he enters the room and opens the closet to pull out a coat. The first one he sees is a gift from his mother.

Despite his distaste of it, he pulls it out regardless and walks to you. You smell nice, he thinks as he gets close enough to place the coat over your shoulders. He sees the way you tense but he still can’t stop himself from saying -

“You’re still awake.”

= = =

EDIT: *- it's a plant I made up. That's all.

tag list: @tiny-mimi @umi-adxhira @pix-stuff @queenofspades403

@manitscold @s-ajia @disappointment-san @rentaldarling @darkumbreon92 @puggyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[judamars]

Just came to a shocking revelation

If you take one good look at my profile, you don’t even have to scroll far to tell that I absolutely love Gihun. Most of the time though when I talk about it I mention how he’s made crazy stupid decisions in the second season and how I wish he just got on the plane to see his daughter. But, here’s the thing.

Coming from someone who also has divorced parents, and lives with my mom and a stepdad and doesn’t know really know where my bio dad is, if I were Gayeong, I would be able to come to terms with not knowing where he is.

I saw someone mention that Gayeong is in a more stable situation with her mom and stepdad now that her mom and Gihun are divorced, and that’s honestly probably very true. So they’re right, Gihun doesn’t really need to BE there. Gayeong is safer where she is. What irks me though, and i know im not the only person who feels this way, is that when you’re that young and your parents are arguing in front of you and are obviously unhappy with each other, it hurts A LOT to witness it all.

So, my point being, I can understand Gihun opting to stay in Korea and can even slightly understand him ghosting Gayeong. I still don’t know why he would call her, say nothing, and then just wait for her to hang up as that’s just kinda weird regardless, but I can see what his intentions are.

And also, I don’t think Gayeong is hurting as much as we think she is. At least not anymore. It’s absolutely devastating to lose your birth parent in any fashion, but she has a lot more facilities and space in America to get the help she needs to overcome the hurt. As we saw in season one, her stepdad is well off, so surely her therapy bills are being paid for.

On the other side of that coin, I think that’s why Gihun turned around. Maybe he originally was going to go visit, maybe he was going to move to America to keep an eye on her from a distance. But once he knew there were more people about to suffer just as he did, he made one of the hardest decisions a parent could make in a split second by turning around. If my dad did that, I think I’d be proud of him. I’d be hurt at first, but eventually, I’d be happy for him if I knew.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

june 3, 2022 2:00 p.m. newcrest counseling

"i'm really happy to hear you think you worried too much, but what makes you say that? did you feel differently than you expected?"

"i did, actually. as i've figured out over the last week, doing the work to become a healthier person means i know how to better manage negative emotions. i often still default to seeing myself as the person who just falls apart as soon as i feel any emotion less pleasant than neutral. at first, when i was on the plane and then in my hotel room alone, i was battling negative thoughts, but i turned it around pretty quickly. to be honest, that was weird. i'm so used to having to completely lose it before i can recover. recovering at the first very tiny peak in severity is almost a miracle.

finding the good things, however small, to focus on last weekend was what helped me revert my mood and stop feeling icky before icky became horrendous. the negative thoughts on my mind, i redirected to the best of my ability. like, for example, okay, if i never fly an airplane again before i die, i'll just be thrilled i could do it for a few years. a few wonderful years is better than zero years. little kid grant never thought he'd survive past 18, let alone follow his dreams. if time travel were possible and i could go back and tell grant kid he flew an airplane one day, he'd never fucking believe it. so, i already won. nothing can take that away.

on that note, i'm historically not the best at being open to good things or experiences. i'm at least prone closing myself off to relishing them once they're over. i spent so long being lashed by the world with no end in sight that i don't trust goodness, you know? i expect people to get fed up with me or to hurt me. i expect the universe to screw me over. i also believe i don't deserve goodness, and i've thrown away good things myself for that reason alone. i think i'll struggle with those specific thoughts for a very long time, but i do know that i am learning move past them. i'm learning to believe i deserve better and to appreciate things more and to extract what i can from my experiences.

i realized i was moving past those thoughts for the first time after dealing with my ex and then cutting off my dad for the second time, but especially after my dad, and now i'm confirming the changes. i felt like hot garbage for weeks after that final conversation with him because i just did. reminding myself of how truly horrible he was as a father hurt, but after a while, i was glad i told him the truth, and suddenly, i had much more appreciation for the male figures in my life who were or are kind to me. a burden was legitimately lifted off my shoulders, and old me would have never managed to find anything positive in that situation, so the fact that current me did says a lot. if i can find something positive there, i can find something positive anywhere.

but hey, i'm not even getting to the most fulfilling part of why i felt differently than i expected. the wedding was genuinely great, and i ended up wasting no substantial amount of time absorbed in my own feelings, so i got to be present with my friends. even when i was pretending my trauma didn't exist years ago, i spent so much time stuck in my own head or my own body, always filtering every personal conversation through that lens, and you don't get how much energy and attention that soaks up until you can be fully present with people. of course, it helps that i knew all these people and knew i could relax and trust them, but still. it felt good to be able to devote my entire attention to celebrating them and their lives and not have split it between them and my own exhausting thoughts."

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

As I’m writing my responses for the character asks, I think it’s about time I did somewhat of a character ramble on Cold.

(At least, my personal reading of him. I may be wrong about him, since he’s the one who had given me the most trouble[due to how emotional I am as a person]. Or maybe you can see this as a different perspective? Feel free to add more or correct me though.)

(This will be long though (and really messy), so I’m putting a cut here)

One thing that I feel is important to Cold’s character is that he is not completely emotionless. Emotionally suppressed, yes, but not completely emotionless.

I personally think it’s more accurate to describe Cold as “being detached” than “emotionless”. He can feel emotions and care for the other voices(in his own way), as you can see in routes like Moment of Clarity where he attempts to teach the voices to be unfeeling(and later feeling frustrated about not being about to help them numb it down) and in PatD, where he had acknowledged that he had missed “The Decider” and showed annoyance towards Oppy in his lack of ability to commit to his choices.

The most notable example of him showing emotion is his hostility towards the Narrator, which is quite a feat to be made since Cold really doesn’t seem to hate any of the voices. Annoyed, sure, but he doesn’t seem to dislike any of them.

His interest towards Anger

For a voice claiming to be unfeeling, he sure is attracted to the emotion of anger and prodding the one who’s angry to inflict it on him.

One thing I’ve noticed about him is that he would often push a person to act acts of violence on him, specifically those who had lost their sense of purpose and are furious about it. Three clear examples I can think of at the top of my head are Stubborn, Smitten, and Fury. All three of them are furious, or at least feeling really crummy about losing their purpose.

Stubborn, as his purpose was to enjoy a fight with the Princess and win against her, or just to fight her for the rest of eternity.

Smitten, as his purpose was to be the knight in shining armour for Damsel and save her from her prison.

As for Fury, depending on the route you get her from, was given a purpose by you. She is to be the Adversary that could handle your every punch, or the Tower who is destined to end to world.

And yet, because of your choices, their purpose have been taken away from them.

What is an Adversary without her opponent? What is a God without a believer?

Out of all the emotions for Cold to choose and take an interest towards, why anger?

Anger is one of the most intense emotions to ever be felt. But at the same time, it comes from a place of hurt and vulnerability. Your heart.

In Wraith, Cold’s more spiteful side is amplified when you had paired him up with Cheated, with the both of them ganging up on the Narrator and had decided that they don’t want to listen to the Narrator anymore and would much rather free the Princess. In many of the routes featuring Cold, he is shown to be opposing Narry in every way, and would do anything to annoy and piss the Narrator off just to spite him. Unlike how he provokes the voices, which is for his own amusement, he genuinely hates the Narrator.

Which makes me wonder if that’s the emotion Cold felt before you stabbed yourself—anger and betrayal. But before those emotions were settled fully, it was quickly gone away with a stab in the heart. Perhaps a part of him wants to feel that same anger again? Because that was the first ever emotion he had ever felt before it was quickly taken away from him and was replaced with that numbness? Or perhaps, he seeks understanding from the others?

Cold and Purpose

Cold is unique in a way where he really isn’t active at all when compared to the other voices. He’s even more passive than Broken. He has no goals, no ambition, no drive to do anything. In fact, he’s really more of a spectator. He isn’t a knight to come save a damsel in distress, or a broken soul seeking refuge in a god, or an unfortunate guy getting screwed over by the world around him and seeks justice. He’s just here to watch.

After all, he had already fulfilled his purpose a long time ago in chapter one. And at the end, that purpose meant nothing at all, as he is discarded like a used tool after his purpose had been fulfilled. There is no point doing anything else but to watch. All he could do now is to encourage you to do literally anything that isn’t nothing.

(That also explains why he’s so angry at you in the everyone hates you ending, since you have discarded him and the other voices carelessly like tools you could use. In his eyes, you are being just like the Narrator. He’s got abandonment issues I feel.)

In conclusion???

I… don’t really have a good conclusion to this. I really just wanted to put my thoughts regarding Cold as a character and then share it.

Cold is an intriguing character to say the least, with him having many contradictions and yet coming together perfectly to create him. He is playful as much as he is tragic. He is unfeeling and yet he cares anyway despite the fact that he really didn’t have to. He is rooted in the present, but longs for something that had already been lost in the past. He holds grudges as much as he is easygoing.

He prides himself in having the ability to distance himself from the pain and doubt in order to get the job done. And yet in the end, he yearns to feel again.

There is a warmth underneath his unfeeling skin. You just have to really dig for it.

[deesseshesca]

PILE 1

His veiny hands, his strong bicep, his tattoo and the fact that everything he does screams masculinity. He’s amazing knowledge in alcohol or the fucking way he drive a car with so much assurance. His signature perfume and the way he never talks loud but always what's right. Did you ever find a man in finance this secure in himself with no God complex…yeah no that doesn't exist. But it's only right that he feels for you. The more I spend time observing you … I understand why he's falling… I am 2 .. I guess. Let’s start by the creativity that breathes out of you with everything you do. Is like you are in love with the whole woman's experience which can be seen by the way you take care of your hair ; long and healthy. You don't just stop there, you color them and style it  anytime you want. The freckles that decorate your face like you are living painting. Your perfect nose and small but luscious lips. Is the way you are fine not being everyone's type and you don't care to change. You with your long and beautifully manicured nails. The way you love on your body unapologetically even though is not the standard in modern beauty. You never complain about your boobs being too big, your butt being too small or even your hips being too wide. Nah you wear whatever you want. Flowing dress, deep cut shirt with no bra not caring that your tits are sagging. What makes you even more intrigued is the complexity that lives beneath your beauty, elegance and confidence. You fucking love cars, passionate about it. I would have never guessed it, I would think you were an artist or even a mua but nah mamacita is trying to become an engineer. Is almost like life never hurted, never controlled, never took the best out of you. You decide to be your own person no matter what and your authenticity can be seen, admired, and envy by many including me. In my case I was pushed into this bimbo character. Need to act, look and be always be perfect since I could remember. Making sure to eat properly so I don't gain to much weight, making sure to message my skin so my boob dont sag, make sure to shave everywhere on my body, make sure to straighten my curls because curly ain't sexy, making sure to never skip a leg day so the butt stay juicy, making sure to have a clear skin. And it does not stop there … making sure I moan seductively, make sure I know how suck good, making sure I am submissive enough. I did it all to please … the one I want, stay unimpressed while the other treats me like lesser women because all they can think of is having sex. Actually you guys are so cute together, the way you like to act like you don't see him applying  pressure. Always touching you any chance he gets, always looking at you across the room, always having your back when you need a ride back home even when the party's at his place. While you tease him, give him kisses across his face every so often, while giving him compliments with your beautiful voice, seducing him with your healthy femininity. Today, in the bathroom, too many drink in my system, hiding while writing this fucking email … I must admit that you have influence me. Because the man I love, loves you for you. Not a version of you made to please, made to seduce, made to only be relevant for the other sex. Maybe it is time for me to admit that all this is in vain … because being the standard did not make me pick, choose or even love. In all fucking honesty I am tired to prove that I am nice enough, fun enough, sexy enough, kind enough … Fuck… can I not just be enough ? (tears on the screen, somebody calls her name) 

Fuck is not like you are even going to read this anyways…

VIBES: New beginning, fresh start, new couple, love at first sight, red string theory, cant get enough of each other, a lot of tension, chemistry and perfect match. 

A lot of people are happy y’all find each other because you were both unfulfilled in love.

[aalghul]

Out of curiosity, do you have strong opinions on Jason’s current suit/costume? Is there one we’ve seen in the past that you prefer as opposed to others?

I really like Jason’s Under The Hood suit/costume with the helmet and no signal on his chest — I think it’s a badass-but-not-trying sort of look and just. Classic but also I will say I Hate The Crowbar schtick he’s got going on right now

Anyways, I love your analyses and reading your thoughts! I hope you have a good night/day/timezone.

hiiii, of course i have strong opinions about that! Jason has so many boring outfits that say absolutely nothing that it hurts me. Why is he essentially just wearing a work out outfit so often. He's not boring enough for this.

Let's start off with the original under the red hood outfit. chef's kiss. a perfect reflection of his relationship with identity: entirely standard and impersonal, with the exception of the helmet in reference to his murderer. It's the ensemble of a spirit come back to taunt, not a living person conveying some present sense of themself. The lack of individuality here is the intention and its purpose is to ensure he doesn't stand out, except wrt the helmet.

I especially like that it's just a slightly upgraded version of what he was wearing at the end of lost days, which is just jeans and a jacket. once again: nothing flashy because he doesn't need a separation between jason todd and red hood; jason todd is red hood and red hood is just a temporary specter meant to dissipate after his planned confrontation.

note the lack of batsymbol! i'm also a believer in it having no role in jason's costume. it is crucial that utrh jason has no such thing to mark him. his only visible connection to who he was is the mark of his murderer.

and since you asked about weapons (or, the crowbar lol), i'll briefly mention that i like how versatile he was! bring back his knives. RN.

so ugly. my god. and no i don't just mean the helmet in the n52 version. The grey is so drab, the brown jacket says nothing, not a single thing about the suit is complimentary with anything else except the red in the symbol and the red in his helmet. The symbol existing is ridiculous because no amount of "irony" excuses how ill-fitting a choice it is. A stylized red version of the bat-symbol is worse than the original symbol because he's reaching a compromise within the design itself that's just not reflected in reality? It's completely one-sided at best, and more often a symbol of implicit submission. How degrading. but more importantly it is just so ugly. my god. (though i do enjoy the thigh holsters.)

a moment of shame for the ugly monstrosity on the left. what the hell man.

onto the right: okay whatever. A sleeveless Jason costume will never work for me because he's too paranoid for that, sorry! Knee high boots are a cool concept, but I wish they looked less...like children's rubber rain boots? Something a little less chunky would fit Jason's movement. Those are literally just regular cargo pants. Once again, the symbol has to go. I've tried to warm up to the hand wraps but I just do not like them under the gloves, and Jason would not (and should not) leave out the gloves. The hood is stupid! Nothing else to say there. (also: crowbar user! ew.)

okay. what even are you. i don't even have a strong dislike for task force z but i did not enjoy looking at this thing. (again: crowbars. ew.)