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maxwellatoms · 7 months ago

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Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

Okey dokey.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.

The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.

Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.

A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.

I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.

Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.

Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

It's the only way to get anything done, currently.

The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".

It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.

There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.

Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)

The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.

Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.

Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.

I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.

Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?

You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.

To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.

I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.

Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.

I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.

The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.

The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.

---

So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.

Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.

#maxwell atoms #animation industry #grim reaper

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raayllum · 2 months ago

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Moon Arcanum Callum + Sun Arcanum Claudia in S7?

Callum getting the Moon arcanum has been a fandom... not theory, but shall we say, prospect, since even before S4. Some of this was because of the seeming set up in previous seasons, such as:

Callum having a hunch that the cube wasn't glowing due to the Moon, and being our first hint at illusions on the Cursed Caldera (1x09)

Lujanne explaining the secret of the arcanum (as she understands it) to him in 2x02

Callum doing moon arcanum spells (3x08, Through the Moon) much the way he did Sky spells before unlocking that arcanum

Callum employing aspects of the Moon arcanum in his plans (3x01 with tricking Sol Regem, creating the illusion pearl in 6x01)

His growing relationship and understanding with Rayla, and potential involvement with her family/village

But especially:

This is of course already reflected in spades in his arc as a mage. Everyone, Lujanne included, believes that humans can't do magic. She treats this as absolute fact and destiny, but Callum perceives it as subjective truth; why can't he just make his own connection and do magic anyway? And in doing so, he changes the world. He creates a radically new, better reality.

With season seven's synopsis on sacrifice and life and death, both things we see tied heavily to Moonshadow culture and the Moon itself, I could see Callum connecting to the Moon arcanum next season for a few reasons (and potentially Claudia with the Sun arcanum, which I'll get to after). So let's get into it.

Precursor

Previously, if Callum was going to connect to the Moon arcanum, I'd speculated it'd mostly be around ideas of the consistency of Love (light or dark, the moon is always the moon) and his love for Rayla being his light in the darkness / the one constant truth of his life. I don't think this anymore, obviously, because we got all those things through the Star truth light ritual beat for beat and we're not going to be repeating, but I did think it'd be worthwhile then to revisit what a Moon arcanum could mean for Callum under new context / emotional epiphanies. I've also always thought either Earth or Sun would suit Claudia, but leaned more towards the latter, so we're gonna talk about that, too.

Truth and Lies and Aaravos

As Lujanne explains in 2x02, the Moon arcanum is understanding the true nature of the relationship between appearances and reality, and we can only understand the appearance itself. This feels like a very fitting idea to come back to with Aaravos, who ostensibly never lies but routinely withholds or presents not entirely correct information. "How may I serve you?" when you're just going to be a pawn. Not telling a mourning Claudia that he was indeed the one who killed Viren so that she'll continue to do his bidding, with Claudia asserting that Aaravos "didn't lie" about the ritual in 6x01, and he didn't. We also see him wield the truth as a weapon with people like Khessa ("would you like to know the truth of her fate before you meet yours?") and Sol Regem (more on that here.)

Everything that he says is truth to him, and then he lifts it up as being objectively true (i.e. you're destined to play into my hands) even when it isn't necessarily true. We can also see Callum veering into mindsets that Claudia and Viren have had, where he believes he's past the point of saving ("I'm ruined, it's too late for me" "Promise me you'll kill me") or removing his own agency by admission ("Finnegrin was going to kill you, I didn't have a choice" / "Every step forward is a choice").

Callum understanding Aaravos' or others' actual truths versus their lies and the ones he's believing could be very fitting in S6, especially if he might be learning more about the existence of the Cosmic Council and who made their world the way it is. I think his existence may help lead to that "slow spiral of chaos" but that it won't be just or even Bad at all the way they'd feared, etc.

Claudia is also linked to lies and truth. She lies to others, but Aaravos notes that "If you tell the truth you will lose her," and she goes looking for her own deep truth in S6, but doesn't seem to fully find it. Terry asks her "What do you need to find your one deep truth?" and Claudia says that she needs her dad, but she and her mother have also made it clear that she "needed to stay with Soren" and her family (vs Viren telling her to pick the egg over Soren). With Viren gone and Aaravos manipulating her, Soren could easily be one of her guiding lights next season or in future seasons.

The Pearl

The moon is analogous, framing/appearance wise, to the prison. This is alluded to in 5x09 through framing, and then made even more direct in 6x09: Aaravos escapes his prison thanks to Claudia and (unbeknownst to her) she has become the prisoner, much like how Callum may physically free himself from chains in 5x08 but magically/emotionally chains himself further to Aaravos, or Viren shouting while in chains that he's finally free of the dark puppetmaster.

Basically, when Callum says in 6x01 that he's inside the pearl, I don't think (as of S6 / probably first half of S7 at least) that he's ever gotten out of it. Aaravos uses him even after his nightmare, and we know thanks to the pawn intro that Aaravos' final machinations for Callum also haven't yet come to play. I've been wondering if the Aaravos intro is going to change in S7, since he's out of his prison — and it still may — but if we look at it from the angle of Callum and Claudia both being stuck within the moon/pearl rather than just Aaravos himself, maybe it could stay.

And if Callum is stuck inside the moon-pearl, shattering it by understanding the arcanum ("the whole world is like a giant primal stone, and we're inside of it, and it's also in us") and/or with Claudia moving to the opposite of the moon could be useful, especially since Karim is a corrupted sun in his own way. Speaking of which let's talk about

Light and Dark

We know thanks to Claudia that black and white, or light and dark, are not always clear cut. Her hair thanks to her dark magic use changes like phases of the moon, with the light being bad and the dark being good. Conversely, her path is a dark one with the path of truth and light being withheld from her. In a similar manner, we see Callum's light (Rayla) being what led him into dark magic use and what led him out of it, and will likely see this pattern play out again. Aaravos is a representation of a path of darkness, but we also see the cube flashing a bright light in the pawn intro, tying light and darkness together for him as well.

Callum's understanding of himself that he gained through the Ocean arcanum can not simply become untrue or disappear, so I think recognizing that darkness isn't all he is ("I'm ruined" / "your heart's not full of darkness" "Neither is yours") even if there are dark parts of him and of his life would be fitting. It also seems that could be helpful with Claudia as well, and even characters like Ezran, who will have to wrestle with darker parts of his emotions/personality next season as well with Runaan. They've all got light and dark inside them, and learning how to walk in that balance and still break away from the Cycle / Aaravos is useful. As Ezran said in 4x03:

I just want to yell stop. But that’s not enough. It won’t work. I think about a positive vision, a faith we can all share, that we might build a future together in hope. A future where we can be safe with each other. But… It’s not that easy or simple. Because people are still hurting and they are still angry. We can’t ignore that, or pretend it will go away. Somehow, we have to hold it all in our hearts at the same time. We have to acknowledge the weight of the pain and loss, but open up our eyes and allow ourselves to hope and maybe forgive and love again. We have to give today’s children a chance to inherit a future filled with peace. To give them that, we have to hold pain and love in our hearts at the same time.

Claudia's love for her family led her to ruin, but it can also save her through Soren. Callum's love for Rayla led him to ruin, but it has also saved him (and again, we'll likely repeat this pattern). Ezran's love for his father will lead him to anger but also pull him out of it, just as Viren's love for his son caused him to begin his journey of terrible things, but also guided him to do one final, truly right thing by the end.

Love is light and dark. Claudia, who's been walking in shadow, needs the full light - the sun, in the form of her brother. She needs to accept and see the truth of what's happening and step fully into the light. Callum, who has been routinely worried of the dark within him, needs to the reminder that he's not all he is, that he has light of his own inside. In doing so, he can break Aaravos' control over him and give hope to any other dark mages / humans in general that no level of corruption is too late to come back from, and that there is always light amid the darkness.

Life and Death

The stakes have never been higher as Aaravos and Claudia are on the warpath, determined to destroy the Cosmic Order and invert life and death. With the world’s fate on the line, our heroes must be ready to sacrifice everything to save it.

In Bloodmoon Huntress, we get a very different peek into how the secret of the Moon arcanum can be thought of through Runaan, who is peak Moonshadow-sacrifice elf man:

Moonshadow form is only achieved when we understand the balance of life against death. Balance is weight against weight, and to understand the weight of death you must feel the weight and value of another's life. Think of those you love, of who you hold most dear. Now think of the souls who have touched your life. Understand that each time your weapon meets its target, each time we fulfil our duty, the potential for that soul to change a life—to love another—is gone. We may remove hate, but we remove the potential for love as well. Moonshadow form is only achieved when we reconcile this balance between life and death.

While Claudia with her hair and dark mage-assassin parallels could unlock the Moon arcanum—especially if her perspectives continue to change—I think Callum as the Protagonist is better placed at this time to be the one to understand the balance between life and death in a season where the antagonists are trying to invert/destroy it. Him therefore understanding appearances and changes, how to control his own and see through others', understanding that balance between life and death, feels very fitting.

Callum's fear of Aaravos and dark magic comes from the fear that he's changing—"I hope you're careful, cause [magic] can change people" / "the corruption takes innocent creatures and changed them"—and that death would be better for him than life if he goes too far. Learning these things aren't the case and that he can get back to the middle (and indeed, "real trust is about accepting even the dark parts we will never know" could be about Rayla accepting he may not entirely swear off dark magic again, the same way Viren kept that door open to do Good) would be useful.

It would also mean the two mage characters most drawn into Aaravos' darkness get the Moon and Sun—the arcanums most associated with light—to banish said darkness as well. Claudia finally being an uncorrupted light and chasing life, not death, and Callum, learning how to be balanced and that he can maintain his identity / use Aaravos' book and key without fearing that he'll lose control.

The fact that Claudia's eclipse imagery only started the same episode she lost her brother, and that her Laurelion dragon-scale necklace is very Sunfire-y looking...

Conclusion

TDP for Callum and Claudia has always felt like a parallel coming-of-age mage story between the two of them, leading to the amount of similarities and diverging plot beats the two have, down to doing the same spell at the same time but in different locations in S6. The Sun arcanum is associated with truth, light, and healing, whereas the Moon arcanum is associated with change, life + death, and secrets/love. All of these things could be nicely brought to a head with Callum and Claudia each unlocking an arcanum of Moon and Sun respectively, showcasing their differences, their continued room to grow, and light amid the darkness.

While I could see alternatives like Sun for Callum and Moon for Claudia, Stars for Callum or no arcanum for either of them, I think these are the ones that fit best at this time / Stars will likely get saved for arc 3 given that arc 3 will probably focus more on rewriting destinies and the Cosmic Order as antagonists.

As always hope you enjoy and Dragons out!

#the dragon prince #tdp claudia #tdp callum #callum x claudia #moon arcanum callum truther #tdp #predictions #arc 2 #s7 speculation #tdp theory #sort of #tdp spoilers #bc of synopsis #theme: duality #s7 wishlist #honestly yeah #callum #claudia

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stop-talking · 9 months ago

Text

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 3)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.8k words

Tags: 18+, mike x reader, no use of y/n, smut, porn with plot, gag, bondage, exes, enemies, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, brat behavior all around, switch mike, sub mike, munch mike, dom reader, oral (fem receiving), pet names, banter, angst, love-hate relationship, hate fucking, aftercare, fluff.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

This chapter is pure smut. If you're here for the story (cuz pfft who reads this stuff right...) you can skip this and still understand part 4. TLDR: they fuck.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

You sit next to Mike on the couch as you down the last bit of your coffee.

"You know, I think I'd like to use one of my favors." You smirk and put a hand on his leg as you set your mug down.

"O-oh yeah?" Mike stutters out lamely, attention immediately pulled away from whatever stupid show you turned on the T.V.

"Yeah."

Mike yelps softly as you squeeze his thigh, but doesn't make any moves to stop you. Damn it, you know exactly how to push his buttons. You always did.

"What exactly do you want from me?" He narrows his eyes at you, brow furrowing as he desperately pretends he doesn't like to be toyed with.

"What do you think I want, Mikey?"

Mike's eyes go wide as your hand inches up his thigh, but he swallows and returns the sass.

"Why don't you tell me yourself, Princess?"

You huff and shift on the couch, throwing yourself across his lap dramatically. Your back arches from the way you're laying on his legs, and you stare up at him with a pout.

"Just take me to bed already."

Mike does just that, hooking one arm under your back, and the other under your knees. He fucking princess carries you. That's new.

"Damn, you been working out?" You tease him, feeling up his bicep with one arm as you hook the other around his neck for support. He doesn't look especially muscular, hell, he doesn't feel muscular either. Of course, that could be because of the soft hoodie he's wearing.

"What do you think?" He swings you around to face the bench press in the corner of his bedroom as he nudges the door closed with his foot. You'd never seen him actually use the damn thing, but... well, he was carrying you fairly easily.

"I think you've missed me." You look up at him, eyes trailing down to his lips.

"I'm just doing you a favor, sweetheart." He tosses you on the bed before you can get that kiss you were thinking about.

"You mean you're just doing me."

"As a favor."

His stubbornness irks you, and you crawl over next to him as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"Here, let me help." You grab his leg and start taking off his sneaker. Mike's a little confused, but he lets it happen. You take the other one off as well, then wave a dismissive hand at him as you start untying his laces.

"You can take off the rest yourself."

"Fuck are you doing with my shoes?" He grumbles as he removes his hoodie and shirt.

You don't bother to answer him, and when he looks over again he realizes you're completely un-lacing his shoes.

"I need the laces."

"Do I even want to know why?" He scoffs and starts to undo his belt and shimmy out of his jeans, leaving him in just his boxers.

"Oh, you'll find out. Lie down and wait."

Mike stays put, scowling. However, It's a little hard to feign annoyance when he's, well, a little hard. He finally gives in when he realizes you're not gonna throw him any hints, and sighs as he scoots back on the bed.

"Good boy." You tease him, finally pulling the 2nd lace completely free of his shoe.

He groans, but makes no effort to stop you as you climb up on him in a straddling position. He only wishes you'd taken your shorts off first. Oh well. Not like they're covering much, anyways.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"Not as much as you'd regret not doing this."

Mike can't argue with that. So, he doesn't try. He wraps a hand around the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. His other hand finds its way to your lower back and he gives a little tug down, silently begging you to lower yourself onto him.

"Mmmph... nngh..." When the gentle tugging doesn't work, he tries whining, but everything comes out muffled with your tongue practically down his throat. He's not usually the type to just take what he wants, but damn it, he might try it soon if you keep tormenting him.

"What was that, Mikey?" You pull away from the kiss and sit up on him, finally making contact with the twitching hard-on in his boxers.

He's already breathless from the kiss, and now that he can feel you... he can't even talk. You've broken him already. He just pants and looks up at you with those big brown puppy eyes of his.

"Use your words." You scold him, and adjust yourself on top of him to brush up against him. When that doesn't get him to talk, you gently trail your nails down his chest with both hands. That really gets him going.

"Please." He hates begging. He hates this. Wasn't HE supposed to be doing YOU? And yet, here he is, already melting.

"Please what?"

"Please just do whatever-the-fuck you want." He sighs and goes limp, letting his arms drop to the bed as he tries to get his breathing under control. All that kissing made his brain go fuzzy.

"Thank you. I will."

Mike practically growls as you lean down and bite him in the crook of his neck. It quickly turns to a whimper when you start rocking your hips as well, grinding into him with those infuriatingly tiny shorts.

"Shh... Abby's asleep, remember?" Shit. The last thing he wanted to think about right now was his little sister in the room across the hall. You were right though, the walls here are thin. Mike nods and bites the inside of his cheek to quiet himself, then tugs desperately at your hips. He wants you to keep going. He needs you to keep going.

"Aww, you're so worked up already." You can't feel much through your shorts and his boxers, but you can tell his moves are getting desperate. After a minute or so of biting all down his neck and grinding on him, you decide to switch things up before he explodes.

"Fuuuuck." Mike lets out a low groan as you climb off of him. He tries to pull you back down by the hips, but you swat his hands off. No fair.

"Here, gimmie." You take his wrist and hold his arm up, fiddling with something. Before he can even process what's happening, his wrist is tied to the bedpost. Is that... his shoelace? He's not sure whether he should laugh or try and get out while he can.

"You're an evil woman." He groans, but doesn't even try to pretend he doesn't like this. Not with it literally jumping in his boxers.

"This evil woman misses your tongue, Mikey." You tsk at him quietly as you tie up his other wrist. Tight. Damn it, that's gonna hurt later.

"Fuck... sit on my face."

"What was that?" You look down at him with a smirk as you slip out of your shorts and panties, kicking them to the floor.

"Sit on my face." He repeats. "Please."

"Only because you asked so nicely."

Mike nearly dies right there when he feels your thighs wrap around the sides of his head. You aren't quite on his face, instead choosing to sit up on the top of his chest. It's still enough to drive him mad. Damn it, he shouldn't enjoy this so much.

"I... You're so..." He looks up at you, his usual scowl replaced with that dreamy expression you only ever got to see in times like this.

"So what, Mikey?" You prompt him, running your fingers through his dark brown curls with a hand. "Hm?"

"Sooooo mean." He closes his eyes and groans, leaning back into your hand as you play with his hair.

"I wanna be meaner. Suffocate you a little."

"Evil woman." His eyes twinkle as he looks up at you again, unable to hide how eager he is.

Laughing softly, you lift your hips and position yourself over his face. Much to your amusement, his arms tug at the restraints. Has he forgotten he's tied up?

"Hold still." You scold him, carefully lowering yourself. His stubble tickles a bit, but it's a familiar feeling. This isn't your first rodeo, especially not with him.

Mike already has his tongue out before you even touch his face. Honestly, he probably wants this more than you do at this point, even if you are the most infuriating person in his life. He moans when you finally make contact, surprised at just how wet you are. Damn it. You really do love toying with him.

"Shush. No moaning."

Mike whimpers a bit when you scold him, and starts bucking his hips into the air. God, he wishes his hands were free. He can't even bring himself to beg for it, too absorbed in you.

"Fuck, right there." You start to buck your hips slightly as well, grinding onto his face. His tongue is hitting just the right spot, and he fuckin' knows it. Bastard.

As soon as you give him that little sliver of praise, he loses it. Completely. He's a desperate, writhing mess beneath you, pulling against his restraints and thrusting up into the void while he eats you out like he's starved.

With one hand gently pulling his hair, and the other clinging to the headboard to steady yourself, you rock your hips. This earns you another low moan from Mike, and while the vibrations feel amazing against your clit, he needs to shut the fuck up.

"Quiet, or I'll fuckin' gag you." You hiss, yanking his hair a little harder for a moment to make a point. He returns to whimpering, for now.

God, you missed this. Mike Schmidt was a jackass, but he was a jackass that knew exactly how to make you squirm. In fact, you were squirming now. Fuck.

"I'm almost... mmm.... Mike..."

Fuck, now you're moaning his name?

Mike wants to grab your hips and pull you down into his face harder, but his hands are restrained.

He wants to grab himself and finally get off, but again, restraints.

He wants to moan, but you're threatening to gag him.

He wants to keep you in this bed with him forever, but he can tell you're close, and pretty unlikely to stick around afterwards. Even if you could be convinced, he's too stubborn to ask.

He wants to taste your cum. So he does.

"Fuuuuuck." You turn into a trembling mess on his face, your legs going weak as he licks and sucks in just the right way. He knows your body so well.

"Nngh, Mike, stop." You lift your hips, leaving him licking at the air for a moment.

"God, that was..."

Mike watches as you scoot back to sit on his chest again, and feels your thighs gently squeeze his face. When you run both hands through his hair as well, he's in heaven. He doesn't need you to say he did a good job to know he did well. He can tell by the way you caress him, and the slick dripping down his chin. He smiles at the glazed over look in your eyes, and he's sure.

"Did I earn the right to use my arms again, Princess?"

That little smug comment breaks you out of your trance. Bastard.

"Yeah, yeah. One minute." You sigh and stare down at his face. Poor boy is wrecked, your mess all over him.

Mike's eyes go wide as he watches you take off your little white tank top, your only remaining piece of clothing. He only gets a brief look at your tits before you swipe it across his face, cleaning him up.

"Hey, I was gonna eat that." He teases, staring up at your chest with hunger in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you still can." You chuckle and stuff the tank top in his stupid smug mouth, a makeshift gag for what's to come. or cum. hah.

Mike can't help but be annoyed with you. He's clearly going insane with how badly he needs to cum, he just worked so hard to finish YOU off, and his wrists hurt. And what do you do? Gag him. Wonderful.

As soon as you finish untying one of his wrists, Mike uses his newly freed hand to yank the gag out.

"What was that for?" He scowls, reaching to untie his other wrist himself as you crawl on top of him.

"You're loud when you cum. Put it back in and bite down or you're not getting any."

He rubs his wrists and looks at the woman straddling his legs so confidently. If you'd just scoot up a little, you'd be where he really wants you, right on his cock. But he figured that probably wasn't going to happen.

"You're infuriating." He willingly shoves the gag back in his mouth, attempting to scowl through a mouthful of cotton. All his anger melts away when you tug his boxers down and finally wrap your hand around his dick. He shudders. Fuck, he's not gonna last long.

"Just let it out, Mikey." You coax him, using a soothing voice and quick hand to finish him off. He bucks his hips up into you and whimpers through the gag, eyes rolling back into his head. Precum drips from him almost immediately, and you smile. He definitely had fun.

After hardly a minute of pumping, he explodes all over his stomach and chest. Fuck, some even gets on his neck. You laugh and make a show of licking your fingers clean, eyeing him up and down.

When Mike's eyes finally flutter open, he almost gets hard again. He tries to let the image of you straddling him, completely naked, and sucking his cum off your fingers soak into his brain. He wants it burned into his eyes, Christ. Why did he ever let someone so hot get away from him?

"That was fast."

Oh, right, because she's a total witch.

"You told me to let it all out."

"Mhm. And now look at you. A mess."

Mike props himself up on his elbows and snorts.

"Gonna lick me clean too, sweetheart?"

"Nope."

God, why did he even ask? He lies back down on the bed, sexually satisfied, but mentally and physically exhausted. He hardly registers you climbing out of bed until he hears his bathroom door close.

A few minutes later, you return and toss him a rag. It's warm and damp.

"Clean yourself up, you're a big boy." You taunt him while you slip back into your shorts and panties.

Mike sighs but accepts the rag and starts to wipe himself down.

You reach for your tank top, lying discarded at the edge of the bed. Then you remember you used it to wipe up... hm. Probably best not to wear it.

"I'm stealing a shirt." You announce, turning to rifle through his dresser. Is this the shirt drawer? No, this one?

"Keep the tank-top. Free souvenir."

"Stealing? Not borrowing?" Mike scoffs, sliding his boxers back up.

"Yep. Can I take this one?" You turn and hold up a faded grey shirt with a cheesy pun on it.

"No. I like that one."

"Oookay... what about this one?"

"No. Sentimental value."

"This?"

He's tempted to keep denying you, if only to see you shirtless for longer. Damn, if you hadn't tied up his wrists he would have been all over those...

"Mike? Can I have this one?" You repeat, annoyed.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure." He grumbles, turning away in an attempt to hide his blush. It was stupid. He just ate you out, and he blushes at the sight of boobs?

You chuckle to yourself as you throw on his shirt. It smells like him. Or at least, smells like his detergent.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Hope you had as much fun as I did, Mikey." You lean against his bedroom door, preparing to leave.

"You don't wanna stay for a bit?" Damn it. He sounded pathetic, begging his ex to stay. This was just a favor to you, a quick release. He couldn't help but try, though.

"Hm. Don't you have to take Abby to school?"

Mike glances at the digital alarm next to his bed. Shit. They're definitely running late now.

"...Yeah. I'll, uh, see ya?"

"You promised to get a new babysitter this weekend."

He swallows, heart sinking into his stomach. Yeah, he did say that, didn't he?

"Right. Yeah."

An awkward silence lingers in the air for a few moments, so you clear your throat and speak up.

"You wanna walk me out?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After quickly shuffling into some shorts and a t-shirt, Mike walks you to the front door and unlocks it for you while you gather your things. His heart wrenches at the sight of you in his shirt, though he tries not to show it. That sort of thing would usually mean you're his. But you aren't. Not anymore.

"Tell Abby I said good luck in her witching endeavors."

"Will do."

He watches you leave, and the exhaustion finally crumples him. Fuck, Abby's just gonna have to miss the first few hours of school today. He needs a nap. Or a medically induced coma.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: This was my first time writing smut so uh hope y'all enjoy. This series is also my first attempt at fanfiction in general. I'm so excited to write the last chapter! Sorry to end on a sad note. I love angst. Sad little babygirl Mike. <3 <3

Also, is tying Mike up with shoelaces very realistic? Probably not. But it's hot. And I can't imagine he keeps bondage stuff.

Edit: Part 4

#fnaf movie #fnafmovie #jhutch #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mikeschmidt #josh hutcherson x reader #mike x reader #josh hutcherson x you #smut #no use of y/n #x fem reader #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt smut #angst fic #angst

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im-just-a-boy-guys · 4 months ago

Note

absolutely loved your minotaur breeding story <3

part two? 👀

FEM! AFAB READER ON MINOTAUR BREEDING FARM. MILKING/BREEDING/DRUGGING!

PT 2 (Any side characters unless more than once will have a purple text <)

(AS always feel free to send in writing asks and even Suggest. Things for the current stories!)

Everything is color coded. Scroll down to the main section of green text to skip to the porn! / horny stuff!

You bathed and collapsed into your bed, in your bathrobe. It had been a wild night, and you found yourself still horny and reeling from getting your guts brutally re-arranged.

You knew you needed to eat something and decided to order in some subway, praying the delivery guy would be able to make his way through the campus like set up of the farm.

You ordered your food, and after 45 minutes, thankfully, it arrived, and the doorbell to your apartment rang. You loosely tied the robe around yourself, though your large chest was still very prominent, and your cleavage shown just at the top of the relatively short robe.

You answered the door and smiled at the driver. It was a younger man, just some younger, possibly 19-year-old boy with blonde hair, brown eyes, and freckles that lightly dusted his face.

"Hello, is this (y/n)? I have a deli-", He paused, and his pale face flushed red as he saw your chest.

After today, you felt slightly turned on by the staring, and instead of covering yourself, you just smiled at him and held your hands out.

"Yes, that's me." You took the food, and he nodded, walking back down the stairs and to his car.

You brought the food inside and ate, contemplating how often you should do that just to see people's reactions outside of what you enjoy looking at you.

After you ate, you plopped back onto your mattress and fell asleep in your robe.

The next morning, you woke to an alarm you had set for every weekday on your phone and peeled yourself out of your robe. You decided that since your clothes were going to be removed anyway, you might as well wear something easy access, slipping on the bra you were given, an old tee shirt, and a pare of short shorts that hugged your thighs.

You wet and brushed your hair, doing your hair care and lathering yourself in your 'Whisky and Coffee' lotion.

You hoped that if you smelled better that they might pick it up with their sensitive noses. You'd love to be made fun of for seemingly wanting it more - wanting to drive them crazy.

After the lotion, you tossed your hair up into a ponytail, pulling a couple of strands out in the front.

Once you grabbed your things, you left your apartment to see a woman dressed in uniform waiting in a golf cart.

"Hello (Y/N), I'll be your driver! There and back. The Dr will still be the one giving you your injection if you end up needing it. But for the drives, it'll be me.", The slender, darker-skinned woman smiled brightly at you. She looked like she'd been kissed by the sun, and her hair coiled so beautifully. Once she saw you up close, she couldn't help but smile. You sat next to her in the golf cart and said quietly.

"You're very beautiful."

She blushed all the way up to her ears and laughed softly. "Oh you don't mean that. I could never be as beautiful as all of the women here- they and you are so amazing looking.", she scoffed and then seemed to realize she'd included you individually.

You smiled at this endearingly, and she sputtered.

"I'm sorry- was that to foward- I'm new to this and don't want to make you uncomfortable. "

You giggled and placed your hand reassuringly on her thigh,

"Nono, it's ok. I know what you meant. And thank you. I think you could actually do this if you wanted. If there were any spaces available, of course. Daniel? I think I'd like the managers name. He seems super sweet and understanding. Maybe speak to him about it if you think about it."

She looked taken aback by the suggestion but nodded politely. You really didn't want to overstep but hoped she'd take it as a compliment. She was however, too busy thinking about being suffocated by your breasts and thighs to really have been offended.

"I think I'd like to stay your driver. You seem nice!"

She pulled up next to the stables and stopped the golf cart.

"Alright, ma'am! Here we are! I'll see you when you get off work."

You smiled and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before hopping out of the cart and making your way into the stable. On your way in, you see Dr Sylvia in your stall waiting for you. She looks you up and down.

"Do you need help getting undressed?" You thought about it and couldn't help but want her hands on you.

"Please." You smiled and lifted your arms for her to help you out of your shirt, and she lifted it off for you, setting the discarded clothing on a stool to the side. She helped unclip your bra and helped you shimmy out of your shorts.

She couldn't help but gawk at your thong. You smiled proudly but did your best to hide it as she slipped them off of you.

"Alright, for now I'm just going to run a couple of general physical tests to make sure you're fit to work today."

She gently took one of your breasts into her hands and massaged it roughly.

"Does this hurt any?"

She kept a straight face but was clearly enjoying groping you. You shook your head, trying to keep a dumb look off your face. She swapped breasts and squeezed once more.

"What about this one?"

You shook your head again and kept up your smile. It took everything not to beg her to keep touching you. You'd love it if she put you in that machine and had her way with you.

"Good. Do you want your shot today or no?"

Your face flushed. "I think I'd like it every time - you can refrain from asking next time-" you mumbled lightly.

"I kind of liked not knowing I was being drugged-",

She smiled mockingly and raised an eyebrow.

"Not a problem. Whatever makes the experience more enjoyable for you, sweetheart."

Your soul melted at the probably frequently used nickname. You knew she more than likely called all of her patients various nick names and treats them the same way, but some part of you daydreamed that your body was her favorite.

She gently guided you and strapped you down by the wrists and ankles as you straddled the adjustable bench. She elevated the back. Putting you at a slight incline before injecting the serum.

She walked in front of you, holding your face for a moment as she stood there. The woman made you look up at her and smiled down at you almost mockingly.

The way her red hair sat in her messy bun drove you insane. She was so gorgeous, and the way her eyes showed when she looked at you like you were nothing - ugh.

She slipped her thumb over your lips before slipping out of the stall.

"Have fun, doll."

Your pussy ached, and you couldn't help but let out a soft whine as the drugs started to take effect.

A familiar buzzing sounded, and you heard the metal doors creak open. You were waiting on the sound of praise from your beloved bulls from yesterday but were met with two entirely different voices. One rumbling lowly, almost scarily close to a gruff growl.

"She seems new- she's super fucking hot though. What do you think about this one, Jake?"

A large figure passed you, seemingly larger than even the bulls you'd met yesterday and a heavy blush covered your face as you were met face-to-face with his giant cock. You drooled almost instantly.

"Her tits are huge - he looks like she'll be lots of fun."

They looked at you like meat, and you were so into it. The drugs made your head feel hot and swimming thoughts as your head flooded with all of the things they might do to you.

The one who was apparently named Jake pulled a leaver under your head, and the headrest folded back, causing your head to fall limp back over it. He pressed his tip to your mouth and smiled.

"Start sucking."

You didn't know how you felt about his tone, but it seemed to make you even wetter. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. He smirked down at you and grabbed your throat, then without warning or prep, shoved himself down your throat.

"God- damn it that's so good-",

The other followed suit by pressing his tip to your needy hole, he teased himself by tip fucking you for a few minutes, every time you felt you were getting close, he'd pull out.

After a few times of that, he shoved his full length into you, pressing himself against your cervix.

He pressed down on your lower stomach/ bladder while he moved inside of you, just to see the imprint of his length through you.

you moaned as they began to move faster, slamming their hips into you, Jake groaned as your moans vibrated your throat against his cock.

"Fuck~ just like that-", Jake groaned and huffed,

the other bull moaned out, "I wanna fuck her ass, it looks even tighter than her pussy-"

You blushed as your mind swam. You'd never done anal before and heard it was quite painful, but all you could think about was the two creatures using you.

"You know- we might be able to break the cuffs and have some fun. We'll just clamp them back after. What do you say, Liam?"

"I say what are we waitting for?," The smaller bull smirked and gripped the ankle cuffs, prying them open one at a time with a great deal of effort, being the cuffs were assumedly made to prevent this exact scenario.

Jake did the same to the arm cuffs. You tried to get up, to struggle, to move, anything. You found that you couldn't move. You'd never noticed before because you were tied down and couldn't move anyway, but now you could feel the active numbness in your skin.

"Awe, I think she's trying to get away~" Liam cooed at you as Jake took you into his arms. He wrapped your legs around him, holding you up far enough to drop you down onto his throbbing cock, you moaned out and he kept one arm around your waist and shoved one of his huge fingers into your mouth.

Liam walked up behind you and held your ass up, gently pressing his tip against your ass hole, he probed for a moment, pushing in just enough to open you up.

Your body felt so limp that you could feel your own weight, pulling you down against their lengths. you couldn't hold your head up, so you rested against Luke's chest.

you felt a sharp pain and cried out weakly as the smaller bull forced himself into you, his warm chest against your back. You could feel his breath in your ear, his grunting causing your pussy to leak cum down your thighs.

His cock seemed to rub in all the right places and you couldn't help but drool. As the drugs reached their full effect, you felt like you couldn't possibly take it or be more full, you thought they were going to rip you in half from both ends, and you were hungry for it.

Once you were filled by both of them, they both held onto your hips and helped each other pump into you. They moaned and cursed into your ears.

They occasionally praised you, fondly licking at your cheeks as they used you. Luke leaned down and put your neck roughly, just barely keeping himself from drawing blood.

"Careful Jake- I'm going to fucking kill you if we lose another week's worth of privileges-", Liam spat at the other as he thrusted into you.

You could feel their knots pressing against your holes, begging for entry. They were both in your guts, their cocks rubbing against eachother through the thin layer of skin between your entrances.

You managed to muster a quiet sentence, almost not heard over your money and whimpers.

"Please cum in me~", you begged them,

"You hear that? The pretty cow wants our cum- how bout we fill her up and swap. We should spend all of our time wisely."

He chuckled mockingly into your ear as they both made an effort to thrust faster, occasionally lifting you higher to tease their tips.

"Fuck- fuck I'm so close- take my knot bitch-"

This caused your pussy to clench roughly around the bigger bulls cock as you squirted, covering his stomach and strong thighs.

As you came, your asshole checked around Liams length, he moaned lewdly before thrusting his knot violently into you, spewing his cum into your virgin hole.

His cum was so hot and thick, you could almost feel it in your stomach, you didn't think you could be any more full.

Until Jake pushed his knot unto your dropling cunt, you screamed as their knots rubbed together inside of you, milking themselves. Their grunts were enough to make you cum again as if their knots didn't.

He jammed his head against your cervix, using that to further milk himself as your guts rubbed his sensitive tip just right.

His cum seemed to be even warmer, it was so think and filled you so well that it leaked down over his cock and down your thighs.

They panted softly, and Jake lifted you off of them, allowing Liam to lay down on the bench you had been clamped down to.

The bigger bull gently layed you onto of the other, your tits resting softly against his face. Liam groped them roughly, causing milk to sport out softly against his face. He snickered,

"Oh yeah, I forgot that we were breeding a milk cow - she's one of the special ones."

Liam took both of your sensitive nipples into his mouth and sucked aggressively, groaning happily as your milk filled his mouth.

You could feel his head prodding at your entrance and leaning back against it, helping him enter you.

Jake came up behind you and thrusted into your now comfortably stretched hole, still rubbing against all of your sensitive spots. As he moved, Liam began to pump gently into you.

He moved casually, just enjoying the sensation of you as he drank your milk, and you only squirmed lightly as he groped and massaged your breasts.

"I think the drugs are wearing off. But she's behaving so well- think we should pick up the pace for her? She's doing so good and looks like she could really use our loads-"

Jake smirked as his hands slipped to your hips, his big hands gripping them roughly.

The smaller bull nodded half-heartedlyas he teased your nipples with his tongue and began to move faster into you, their cocks once again rubbing against eachother with only your thin walls to separate them.

Your tongue hung out of your mouth like a desperate dog and you could still feel their cum on your thighs and leaking out of you like a creame filled donut.

You whimpered and whined as they moved, and the feeling of Liams tongue on your nipples sent a signal to your sloppy cynt that you couldn't describe, a pulsing in your clit-

You reached down between your legs and rubbed desperately, the sensations driving you insane.

The smaller bull let go of your breasts and grabbed your hands roughly. He held them together over his shoulder, which caused you to elongate yourself, your back arching further against Jake.

He took happily to this, smiling dazedly as your ass pressed against his length, causing him to go even deeper.

Without the extra cum in you you imagined he'd split you in half, you almost wanted another dose of the drugs, you imagined the warm dazed feeling flooding your head like the few times you'd had to many drinks.

"Fuck I love how she sounds- she makes so many cute noises when she's getting her guts peniteated."

Liam cooed this into your ear, and he grabbed your throat. This was almost better than the drugs, the static flooded from your neck where his strong hand gripped, moving up to your already foggy brain.

Your vision flooded in and out as he let go right before you felt like you were going to pass out. You could feel their cocks throbbing against your walls, and their knots had grown back to their full size, slamming against your entrances.

Liam huffed and used both hands to use your throat as his leverage, pounding mercilessly into you.

You squeezed in excitement as you felt yourself getting close to your own climax once more.

Jake chuckled and pushed the back of your head into Liams chest. Your tongue still hung out of your mouth, Liam mocked,

"I think our milk cow might be part mutt-", He looked down at you and gripped your throat as tight as he could with both hands before pushing his knot as hard as he could unto you, Jake following suit.

Their cum flooded your guts and at the same time, you whimpered and whined loudly, screaming out as you squirted against Jake's thighs, the cum running down your own thighs onto Liams legs.

They both rested inside of you as their cum spewed against your walls, once again bursting out of you and around their cocks.

When they pulled out, another stream of cum sprayed on your back and stomach. They panted and gently lifted you and placed you back onto the chair face down, clamping the cuffs back around your limbs.

They both came around to your face and licked at your cheeks softly.

"We had a lot of fun, pretty cow. Hope we get to see you again."

Jake winked and walked away to the back door of the stall.

"Hopefully, well, see you later, Mutt."

Liam granted you a small head scratch before walking away with the other.

Soon after, Dr Sylvia walked into your pen and to your little bench. She examined the bars and groaned.

"I swear - these two do this every time. Did they take you out of your restraints?"

You nodded softly and tried to speak and managed to weakly,

"Yes, but I had fun.."

She shook her head softly and pressed the button to unclasped your cuffs.

"Yes, but what if they do this to someone who doesn't? It also just generally isn't safe for the cuffs to be all bent uo like this. Don't you worry though, sweetie. I'll get this all sorted out. Now let's see if we can get some of that milk out of you, huh?"

Her velvety voice slipped through your ears, and you smiled, pressing your chest out slightly, hoping to make it easier for her as she lowered the breast holding arm.

"Thank you, darling."

She cooed and gently attached the pumps to your nipples. A decent amount of milk still cane out, but only half of the container was filled compared to last time.

She clicked her tongue.

"And they took most of your milk - unbelievable. Next time, I'll give you double the dose."

She shook her head and smiled at you, kissed your forehead, and helped you get off of the table.

She helped you into your robe and handed you your clothes, and carried the milk pump to the golf cart. Sylvia offered your arm to assist you as you stepped into the seat, and your assigned driver looked over at you and blushed.

You looked an absolute mess and she couldn't help but stair as the cum that coated the top of your cleavage.

"See you tomorrow!"

The Dr waved goodbye to you and smiled.

Your driver kept quiet most of the ride, which seemed to be nice considering the shift you'd had.

Once she pulled up to your apparent, she helped you up the stairs and into your apartment.

"You haven't set up your bed yet?"

You shook your head and fell onto your mattress. She pouted softly and pulled out her phone.

"I'm going to have the staff come and help you set up. It's not too late, so I'm going to have them come help. Do you have a couch?"

You nodded lightly and gestured to the living room.

"Come on then. You can lay there until they help you with the bed. Where's your bedding?"

You pointed at the closet,

"it's in a clear bag, the one it came in."

She nodded and helped you to your couch, which was drowning in boxes in your living room. She stepped to the side once you'd laid down and made a couple of calls. You could barely make out what she was saying before you fell into a light sleep.

You woke up to the woman gently shaking you awake. Most of the boxes were moved out of the way to make a path to the different rooms and open up some floor space. She helped you to your room, and you saw your bed frame set up and your bedding laid out.

This made you smile, and you thanked her. You walked into your bathroom, and your driver saw herself out, locking the door from the inside before closing it.

You bathed and slipped happily into your soft sheets and cozy, fluffy duvet; dreaming about your wonderful night.

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andhumanslovedstories · 11 months ago

Text

hey here's another question that I've been thinking about for about a week with no particular breakthrough. I'm so much on the healthcare side that all my advice is on that side. Dude, I read academic articles for this and didn't come up with anything particularly useful. That's why I'm answering this publicly, so other people hopefully add something useful. (Also I know you said you're not looking for opioids. I'm gonna talk about opioids anyway they certainly affect perceptions of chronic pain. In your case, try making clear early on that you don't want opioids.)

I'll say some things that I've noticed from my work to maybe provide some insight into healthcare's side of the exchange. I'm not saying this is the way things should be, I'm giving advice based on how I see things are. I wish I could say this wasn't the case, but when there's a pain medication standoff, the two ways I've seen it work out best for a patient are:

A third party advocates for the patient. (like family, nurse, social worker, different specialist, patient advocate, etc)

Change in caregiver.

I don't like those as the top answers, but that's what I've seen and it's consistent with a lot of the accounts I encountered. There is also a third way that the pain medication standoff can quickly end in a patient's favor:

3. New evidence (new symptom, imaging, vital signs, lab test, etc) forces a reexamination of how we're thinking about the patient.

This is also the "oh shit they seem worse" method, but it can also be "we have gained new information that re-contextualizes the information we already knew." This is like hey the xray came back, your whole bone is dust, or hey your blood pressure is now significantly higher, or hey oops your appendix exploded.

In all three cases, something new happens to change the dynamic. This works for healthcare providers operating in good faith because someone comes in fresh and/or the new dynamic causes the healthcare team to do a new assessment and cost/benefit analysis with this updated information. This works for healthcare providers operating in bad faith because they are either removed from the situation or put in a position where giving pain medication is less onerous than not giving pain medication. I genuinely, genuinely believe far more healthcare employees are operating in good faith rather than bad faith, although the end results can look the same from the patient side. This means I think that far more people are swayed by additional information that makes pain management have more benefit and less cost.

I don't know how actionable any of this is from the patient side unfortunately. I don't love being like "my advice? wait till shift change, see if you can shake it up." Bring someone to the emergency department with you if you have someone available, preferably someone prepared to make a fuss on your behalf. If you don't have a third person, see if you can get one. Hospitals can have patient advocate as a job. If they aren't available, is there someone on your healthcare team that seems most sympathetic? Try asking them if they have any advice. They might be able to give you some, they might advocate for you. Be careful about badmouthing staff to other staff and avoid compliments to one member of the team that relies on insulting another member. You don't know the relationships at play, and it's sort of like how you shouldn't trash talk your old job when interviewing for a new job. You may be completely right in everything you're saying, but being like "my boss was a crazy asshole who refused to recognize my work," doesn't come off as objective. It can undercut your credibility and introduce hostility into the conversation where it is not productive.

I'd also be prepared to talk about what you already tried to relieve the pain. Again, with you I'd mention upfront that you don't want opioids because they don't work for you. Then say what you have already tried at home before you came in (tylenol, ibpurofen, heating, ice, exercises, stretching, shower, other meds, etc) and the effect of both the pain (can't sleep, makes you nauseated, had to call off sick from work, aren't able to be a caregiver to someone, etc) and your already attempted interventions (no significant pain control, symptoms got worse, called PCP, they said emergency was the next step, etc). If your condition is chronic, compare it on the pain scale and the functionality scale to your baseline. (i.e. "I'm always at least a 3 out of ten on the pain scale, but it doesn't usually leave me bedbound." "Normally Symptom improves after Intervention At Home, but that didn't work this time.") Something that can make providers hesitant is if opioids, benzos, or other powerful drugs are the first and only thing a patient says will help and they're unwilling to try anything else, so sometimes demonstrating flexibility with your pain plan can signal "I'm not here for oxy to sell, I'm here because I want my symptoms to stop (and, if relevant, figure out what is causing them)."

Also if you can and feel safe doing so, consider providing feedback to the hospital. Nothing changes without something documented.

#nursing tag #please ppl on more pt and ed side feel free to weigh in #sorry if any of this seems condescending or super obvious like 'yeah obviously i do that already'#me: don't know what to say :/#also me: six billion word reply

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satoluv · 10 months ago

Text

YOU ALWAYS HAD ME — synopsis: what would you do if your hot best friend agreed to fake date you to make your ex-boyfriend jealous? will it ruin your friendship or will it prevail into something more?

⤿ [ 11 ] timestamps do not matter.

One of your favourite things you did growing up to find solace outside of your rowdy home was sitting by the porch, drinking in the starry night above you. Usually, you had company; your Persian cat, Kiki who has found herself a new owner; Gojo Satoru.

“What’s going on that pretty little head of yours?” Your thoughts, are instantly broken by the low yet smoky voice of the man you were falling in love with. — your best friend, your fake boyfriend.

“Nothing”

“Lies. I’ve been searching everywhere for you but then your kind mother told me this is your favourite spot.” You felt the plank beneath you creak and found yourself a new company.

“You were looking for me?” Your voice came out barely a whisper.

Tucking away the strands of hair behind your ear, “Yeah?.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

So did the clock.

10 minutes till Midnight.

“Can we end this, Satoru?”

“What?”

"You heard me."

"So that’s on your mind? Is that why you invited me here? To break up with me in front of your family's porch? Or did Toji text you back? I-"

"Satoru, do you want to know what I dislike about you?"

"If it's me stealing your chocolates, I'm sorry. Please don't end this"

You cupped his face, the warmth from the contact of your hands and his face kept you alive. He looks so cute with his face being squashed. His bright blue eyes on you, pouting.

"Wrong. I don't like it when you cut me off and you’re so dramatic ‘toru! Toji hasn’t texted me since forever! But it doesn’t matter anyway because I love you."

His pout, was instantly replaced with a smile like a kid who got candy from his mother.

"Then will you shut me up by kissing m-"

You threw your body weight on him, snaking your arms around his neck, playing with the underside of his undercut. It's so hot. Supposedly a small fleeting kiss immediately turned into a passionate heated kiss, outside your family's porch.

You gasped in surprise at the sensation of his hands tucking underneath your shirt, pinching your skin.

The kiss that breaks apart, left you both catching for air.

Removing his hands that previously rested under your shirt, sliding in your palms, stroking your hands with his thumb.

"You're so cute. I like the taste of your lips on mine. And I love you too, YN. Always have been, ever since high school. We grew up together so technically, I watched you grow up heh. Watching you have your first boyfriend broke my heart, but if that was the price for me to pay seeing you so happy, I'd gladly break my heart a thousand times over. But a part of me wished it was me who made you smile. So when he broke your heart, it was as if the whole world just crashed on me. You, out of everyone deserve so much love."

Like as if that wasn't enough to tug your heartstrings,

"YN, can I be your boyfriend? I'll love you with everything that I have, I promise."

“Here’s a pen for you baby”

“What for?”

“Hmm? To tick off the the rest of your checklist sweetheart”

hiiii …. 🫣🫣🫣 imcoming fluff chapters enjoy it while it lasts. i love them sm omg. pls ignore the fact that it’s almost feb.. and im posting abt new years HAHAHA the nicknames!!!! i hope it’s not too rush omds..

💞 in the title means new years special hehe

taglist: @hexrts-anatomy @k4romis @soy-garbage @avatar-of-procrastination @lees-chaotic-brain @pastatata @maybe-a-bi-witch @vivi-loves-penguins @reagan707 @iluv-ace @dazaisfavgf @tiredflame132 @dreamxiing @inorixonline

feedbacks and reblogs appreciated! 💕💕 pls be kind to me

series m.list | main m.list

@ satoluv do not plagiarize, translate, or rewrite my writings without my permission !

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smau #jjk smau #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smau #gojo smau #satoru smau #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smau #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n smau #queued to prime time!#reblog please! tq bbies #lily writes! ೀ⋆｡˚

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la-petite-lapin · 11 months ago

Text

Double the Love | Part Three

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 1.8k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+, Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, mentions of poor mental health, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings, Johnny is a big softie

The guys have a chill day

Ghost yells in his sleep.

I find that out on the second night. His screams wake me up, practically vibrating through the walls of the apartment. I lie awake in bed, not knowing what to do, listening to the faint sounds of Johnny's voice as he consoles him. After a while, a buzzing silence fills the room again.

It takes me a while longer to realise that I won't be able to fall asleep again. Instead, I creep out into the kitchen. It's just gone six a.m. so I just decide to start the day early.

I make myself a mug of hot chocolate - try not to think of those ungodly, heart-wrenching screams - and switch on the TV at a low volume to try and fill the silence. I scroll through my emails, double-checking that the small interior design company I joined last year is doing okay.

This is the first time I've taken any time off since I started. According to my wonderful manager, I deserve a break so they're making me use some of my annual holiday up - meaning I should have two perfect weeks of uninterrupted rest time. Originally, I intended to spend it alone, binging on TV shows and slouching around the apartment in my PJs. Now, it looks like I'll be spending it with two soldiers.

A message alert appears across the top of my screen, so I click on it while I wait for the milk to finish heating up.

JOHN PRICE: Hey Tali, how's it going over there? TALIA KELLER: So far so good. TALIA KELLER: Ghost has night terrors. Johnny seems like he knows what to do though. JOHN PRICE: Ah, yeah. JOHN PRICE: They're getting better. Slowly though.

Jesus. If that was "getting better", then I dread to think what bad looks like.

JOHN PRICE: You're okay with them though? TALIA KELLER: Yeah, it's fine :)

I finish making my hot chocolate then take a seat in my armchair, savouring the low hum of the TV with my eyes closed as I drink. When I'm done, with a belly full of hot chocolate, I start to fall asleep again. I'm almost gone when I hear the soft squeak of a door opening in the hallway.

"Tali? a Scottish-accented voice whispers in the darkness.

I turn around, glancing over the high back of my chair. A pair of blue eyes meet mine. Johnny stands in the hallway, dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, his expression one of concern. He looks tired; his hair sticking up at odd angles. I can see the padding of the thick gauze bandage over one side of his ribs through his shirt.

"Hey," I say softly, not knowing what else to say.

Johnny bobs his head. After a moment of hesitation, he joins me in the living room, dropping down onto the sofa with a quiet oof. "We woke ye up, didn't we?"

I nod. "Don't worry about it. I'm a light sleeper anyway."

The answering frown that forms on his lips makes me wish I'd just lied. "'m sorry. He hasn't been that bad recently. I think it's being in a new place that's making it worse. He should settle down soon."

"Seriously, don't worry about it."

A beat of silence passes before I say, "So... tell me about you and Ghost."

And, just like that, the discomfort in Johnny's expression melts. His eyes glow with pure adoration, flickering behind me in the direction of their room.

I don't know how much he can tell me - their unit seems pretty secretive, and Ghost seems rather content on keeping me as far removed from their lives as humanly possible - but it's worth a shot. Johnny always seems happy and at ease wherever Ghost is concerned. It's not something that I personally can fathom; Ghost has never made me feel anything other than uneasy.

"We met in the 141. He's my L.T., so it's a bit frowned upon, but we keep ourselves to ourselves so it's never really a problem. On base, we aren't out." A flash of something passes across his face, disappearing almost as quickly at it came. Something akin to disappointment. "John and our mate Gaz are the only people who know 'bout us. Ghost 'as always been private. I did'nae expect anything else."

The corner of my mouth lifts in a half-smile. I pull my legs up to sit cross-legged in the armchair and tilt my head to one side. "I can't imagine him being particularly soft or cuddly."

Johnny barks out a loud laugh. "Nah, that's me. S- Ghost isn't very affectionate. Not physically, anyway. More like acts of service and words of affirmation. That kind of stuff."

"So, what brought you all back to London then?"

"I almost got gutted on our last mission. We're lucky tha's all that happened." He grimaces and lets out a deep sigh, lifting one massive hand to massage his temples. With one hand over his ribs, he settles back against the sofa cushions. "Everything went to shit. Ghost won't admit it, but he's aggravated some old injuries too. And we lost a pilot, and three allied soldiers..."

Alex's face flashes in my mind. His light brown hair mused and messy, his beard short and scruffy - just the way he liked it. The soft, twinkling glow of amusement dancing in his eyes...

"Does that happen often? Losses," I ask before I can think. I don't really want to know - don't want to upset Johnny or hear how common it was for good men to die. Like I don't already know.

Just like that, he's frowning again. "Don't worry 'bout it, lassie. Prolly shouldn't 've said anything. Ruined the moment."

I lift one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "It's fine."

We sit in silence after that, watching TV as we wait for Ghost to wake up.

By day four, I have a budding friendship with Johnny. We have inside jokes and a handshake. We've even started mirroring some of each other's mannerisms.

I also know that Ghost doesn't like it.

It's around lunchtime when John and another guy - someone else I don't recognise - show up at the apartment, laden with six packs of beer and bags of snack foods. I let them in with a bewildered laugh. The second John's through the door, he pulls me into his arms for one of his signature bear hugs.

"Oh Tali, how I've missed you." The words are mumbled into my hair as I let out a soft giggle, squealing as he lifts me off of my feet.

"I've missed you too. Now put me down before you break a hip, old man."

By the time he's set me back down, the boys are already making themselves at home in the open plan kitchen. Johnny moves around sorting various snack foods onto plates and into bowls, gliding with the confidence of someone who's lived here for years, not days. His other friend - a man with dark, curly hair tucked for the most part under a baseball cap, and dark, expressive eyes - stands back, leaning against the counter with an open can in one hand, taking sips of beer between speaking. Then there's Ghost, leaning against the opposite counter, eyes never straying far from Johnny.

"How have they been?" John asks, his voice low and quiet as he watches the boys interacting in the kitchen.

I offer him a reassuring smile. "They've been okay. Johnny has a brilliant sense of humour; I like him."

John smiles. "Thought you would."

"What are you two ladies gossiping about?" a voice calls from the kitchen, the words laced with an east London accent. I glance up to see the newcomer looking at me, eyes glittering with interest. He must be the local John was talking about when he first called me about the boys.

"Wouldn't you like to know," I say, wiggling my eyebrows.

Johnny's own eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, his mouth quivering before an extremely loud, abrupt laugh bursts out of it. "Well she got you there, Gaz."

Gaz. The last remaining member of Alex's unit that I had yet to meet.

"Where are my manners?" Gaz walks around from behind the kitchen counter, coming to stand in the living area with me and John. He extends a calloused hand for me to shake, offering me a boyishly charming smile as I do. "Name's Kyle Garrick, but everyone just calls me Gaz. Feel free to call me whatever; I'll probably answer to it. What's your name?"

"Tali."

His grin widens. "Nice to meet you, Tali."

I return his grin. "Likewise."

With that, moving with the same natural easiness as Johnny, Gaz walks back to his spot in the kitchen, picking up his beer and taking another sip. I meet Johnny's eyes, noting the reassuring smile and nod that he flashes in my direction. But that also means that I catch the scowl coming from Ghost.

The whole interaction makes me realise a couple of things.

One: Ghost does not particularly like me. Two: Ghost could give me his real name, he just chooses not to. It seems like he wants nothing more than to remain at this level of impersonal with me for the entire duration of his stay, unlike Johnny who seems dead-set on getting to know me. In the four days that they've been here, I still haven't gotten a clear look at Ghost's face. The whole time, he's been wearing a hood to cover up or - most days - a surgical mask to cover the lower half of his face. Anything to keep me at arm's length.

"Hey, pretty lass, do you want a beer?"

My eyes fall on Johnny and the two cans in his hands. There's a hopeful look on his face that makes me nod yes. With a smooth underarm throw, he tosses me a can and flashes me another broad grin.

"Do you mind if we hang out here for a bit?" John asks softly, just for me to hear. When I look up at him, his expression tells me that if I ask him to leave, they will. No questions asked. "There's a footie game on and Gaz wanted to watch it with the lads. It's a tradition we normally do on base, but I'm sure we could find a pub playing it or something."

"Watch it here." I genuinely want them to. I want to spend time with them; want to see how they all interact. And I've missed hanging out with John while he's been away. There's also a small, selfish part of me that wants to see how they all fit as a team. To see if I can spot the gap in the dynamic where Alex would have slotted in; to see what his life would have been like in those last few weeks. "Maybe I want to watch it too. If that's okay."

"Of course it's okay." John's arm wraps around my shoulders. "Which reminds me. Ghost and Soap might need somewhere to stay for the long haul. At least until Soap is fully healed, that is."

I nod slowly. "And you want them to stay here?"

"Would that be okay with you?"

I glance across to the kitchen, watching Johnny and Gaz playfight under Ghost's watchful eye. Even messing around, they're respectful; keeping a mindful distance from anything fragile or expensive. As much as I hate to say it, I'm growing used to Johnny's constant playful presence in the apartment. Even Ghost's brooding is starting to grow on me.

"I think I like having them here. As long as they're both happy, they can stay as long as they like. I can talk to Winnie about logistics if it comes to it."

John nods, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards. "They both seem happy here, Tali. Ghost seems relaxed; that hardly ever happens."

Really? If this is Ghost relaxed then I'd hate to see him stressed.

"Again, ladies?" Gaz heckles playfully. He folds his arms across his chest, clicking his tongue and shaking his head like a disappointed parent.

At that, John straightens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We might be off duty, but I'm still your captain, sergeant. Now - all of you get your arses in here."

The three of them head into the living room, filling the coffee table with cans and the various bowls that they've prepared. One by one, they choose their seats for the next couple of hours. As Gaz tries to drop down into my armchair, Ghost shoots him a pointed look, and he opts to sit on the floor instead, eyes twinkling once again.

Hm.

"Right, now everybody shut y'er mouths. I'm putting the game on."

And, with that, Johnny lines up the football on the sports channel and we all settle in.

a/n: happy new year guys! hope you all enjoy this chapter. I know that it's a bit shorter than the last one, but I'm currently battling with a mild case of writer's block this is also a repost as tumblr decided to not show this the first time around - hope to see you all again very soon, lapetitelapin :)

#cod #fanfic #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon “ghost” riley x reader #soap x reader #callofduty #cod fanfic #cod x reader #ghost x reader #female reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny x reader x simon #angst #romance #johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #double the love

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jesncin · 2 months ago

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Are you at all excited for the upcoming Absolute Martian Manhunter book later this year? It'll be the most high-profile launch J'onn has been a part of for a long while, being DC's attempt at an "Ultimate Marvel" line. Given how the approach seems to be defined by removing elements of the characters' status quo - Superman has no Krypton tech, Batman is not a billionaire, Wonder Woman is the last of the Amazons etc. - I think there's a very real possibility that for J'onn they'd pivot in the opposite direction and give us a living Martian society. If only because J'onn has so little anyway, there's not as much to remove as with other members of the League, so the logical thing would be adding something back in to shake things up. I'm personally hoping for some combination of Weird and Noir.

I'm absolutely (heh) excited for it (because a new refreshing change even in an elseworld story is exactly what J'onn needs right now!) but also cautious and,,, concerned. DC's revealed the Absolute gimmicks for just about all the other solo supers but J'onn is essentially still a rumor? What's going on there? I was also concerned when Superman's Absolute gimmick was supposedly "he'll be more alien than human" "he doesn't have a fortress of solitude, no Kents, etc" which,,, sounds a lot like J'onn tbh but we'll have to wait and see. Sometimes writers do this thing where they try to do something new with Superman and it's just re-worked J'onn lore. And J'onn lore is fundamentally flawed so in turn that take on Superman doesn't work, but that's just me with early concerns.

Ooh! That's a good point actually! That feels like the most logical shakeup they could do, and YJa helped warm people up to the idea of a living Mars (which I also agree would spice things up and differentiate J'onn from Clark more). And I'd absolutely (heh) love more supernatural-weird-noir for J'onn! We finally had J'onn play into being a martian detective in the 2019 Identity run, but it was more cop drama than detective noir which I would love to see. My only addendum to the idea of a living Mars as an Absolute gimmick is, since YJa popularized this already, what else will this take do to innovate on that idea? My personal wish list is:

Revitalize J'onn's cast system (a mix of old and brand new characters. Don't just make him watch tv to care about humans. Give this martian relationships!!)

Figure out his themes outside of grief!! (I love sad Martian man but he needs to do more than that! It's been stagnating his character)

No Justice League stuff or other superhero cameos/team ups. (J'onn NEEDS to prove he can stand on his own as a solo character so he can stop being pigeonholed as the League's heart or therapist.)

Fresh new take on Martian world building (please get rid of Martian racism, it's dumb and never made sense. It's a shapeshifting society and the idea of characters like M'gann essentially "greenfacing" to "pass" is so weird)

Critical reimagining of J'onn's relationship to justice (we need to get rid of or critically examine his relationship to copaganda.)

Integrate Blackness more thoroughly into his character (CW Supergirl and that one Nubia Coronation special comic are still the only takes that have done this. Come on guys!!)

More thorough reflection of J'onn's multiple identities (undoubtedly what makes J'onn special. But the comics rarely dig into what it means for J'onn to be multiple people. I would love it if his identities [especially the racialized ones] weren't treated as so,,,disposable.)

Ma'alefa'ak please (I just want to see him again I don't even care if they do a bad job. However all I ask is he be a green martian and J'onn's twin again. And a slutty design.)

The last time we saw a big overhaul to J'onn's character was the New 52, and the major flaw of that run was that it had no clear thematic intention to how it interpreted his character. So we ended up with just a bunch of references and a convoluted edgy story that doesn't help J'onn become a self sustaining solo character. The Absolute line is the perfect platform to revitalize him as a character, but I hope the writers can think in the long term to combat his foundational issues.

#askjesncin #jesncin dc meta #martian manhunter #all this to say I am still very excited about J'onn Absolute title! But I want to actually hear from it ;_;#“what would u do jesncin if u were in charge of it” I'd canonize Sons of Mars. That's it that's the comic #also insane of Aquaman not to have an absolute run?? idk the guy had his own movies surely you'd put more effort in him

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lady-harrowhark · 2 years ago

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hello, can you explain to me in more clarity your “waxen” theory regarding Ianthe? I’m not picking up on what this implies but it’s making my brain itch.

Sort of! Totally fair question, I just don't have a lot of clarity myself in that I don't have a fully formed theory lol. There's definitely some links and parallels in verbiage that are pinging on my radar, so I do think something's funky, but I wouldn't say I'm fully on board with this yet. I'm just playing in the sandbox Tamsyn has provided us, tossing out ideas and thinking out loud. But I can go into some more detail, and add some more thoughts that have occurred to me since I posted that last night.

(Here's a link to the post in question, for context)

Anyway! So let's first lay out all the times we get someone described as some type of wax. At various points in HtN, we get the descriptions "a shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture," a "wax figure in a pink dolly dress," a "wax figure in pale purple chiffon," and "waxen face" for Ianthe. We also see that descriptor used a few other times for other people throughout the series. In GtN, Harrow's parents' bodies are called "waxy" and the first introduction of Protesilaus (as the beguiling corpse) says he was "waxen looking in the sunlight." In NtN, Kiriona's skin is said to have a "weird, waxy quality," then Naberius's skin is called "waxen" when they first meet up with Ianthe, and again a few pages later it again references the "waxen, handsome face". What I'm getting at here is that every time this sort of description is deployed, it's in reference to a dead body that's been preserved, manipulated, and is essentially masquerading as a living person... except for Ianthe.

We also know there are a multitude of times that she's described as looking like a poor copy of Coronabeth. There's that "shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture" line, her first introduction calls her a "starved shadow" of her sister ("or the first an illuminated reflection [of Ianthe]," and actually, off the top of my head I don't know that we ever see their descriptions framed that way again... I'd have to investigate this more later, but this might be the only time that Corona is described as a "better" version of Ianthe, rather than Ianthe being a "worse" version of Corona, which is interesting), there's a point where it says "The second twin was as though the first had been taken to pieces and put back together without any genius. She wore a robe of the same cloth and colour, but on her it was a beautiful shroud on a mummy," etc etc etc. I know there's more, but I'm too lazy to go pull the rest of the quotes and you get the picture by this point I'm sure. So nearly all of these situate her, at least visually, as a copy or approximation of Coronabeth, and one that doesn't quite live up to original at that.

So now let's pick apart this snippet of conversation we overhear between Silas and Ianthe at Magnus and Abigail's dinner party a bit. Ianthe says she was born via "surgical means," which I'm assuming is referring to a C-section delivery (or whatever the necromantic equivalent is) and notes that Corona is a few minutes older. Silas seems surprised (or perhaps concerned?) that they "risked intervention" and Ianthe says Corona had "removed [her] source of oxygen". At this point Silas says, "A wasted opportunity, I'd think." I had always taken this for him just being a dick and implying he wished she'd died in the womb, but coming back to it with this new angle... well. She says "Corona's birth put my survivability somewhere around definite nil." And I'm wondering if that doesn't tie to Harrow's comment about infant deaths generating "enough thanergy to take out the entire planet." Basically, could Silas have been implying that the Tridentarii's parents wasted an opportunity to use the thanergy from baby Ianthe's death to power up Corona?

Harrow says that twins are an ill omen, but the text hasn't come back to that as of yet. Given the difficulty necromancers experience with pregnancy, I'd imagine twins would could be especially dangerous and that in and of itself could be considered an ill omen. Ianthe's comments certainly suggest that their mother carried the pregnancy, although I don't think we know for certain whether she was a necromancer. I am so intensely curious about the Tridentarii's childhood and their parents; we get so many gestures towards some really twisted family dynamics, but very little in the way of concrete explanations. Particularly relevant here, I'd love to know more about their father wanting a "matched set" and how that came about. Did they intentionally plan for twins from the start? Was it only once they knew they were having twins that that became a factor? What's the significance there?

Outside of those "waxy" descriptors, Ianthe tends to be described as much more sickly looking than even other necromancers. We know that necromancers on the whole tend towards a phenotype of physical weakness, but even still, there's an emphasis on this with Ianthe beyond that. This might be due in part to narrator bias (coughGideoncough) or the direct juxtaposition between her and Coronabeth's vivaciousness, but what really jumps out at me as contributing to this effect is how frequently she's described as being colorless, pale, washed out, bloodless, pallid, anemic, etc etc etc. It very much makes me think of the way the color drains away from Colum (and even the rest of the room and the others in it) when Silas is siphoning. Silas himself is also often described as colorless ("mayonnaise uncle," "milk man") but not so much in a way that implies frailty as much as I read it as implying a stark coldness, in line with the very black-and-white moral authority he presumes to wield, a purported "purity", much different than Ianthe's colorlessness. With Ianthe, you get a sense that her palette ought to have been or perhaps was closer to Corona's, but the color's been drained away; where Corona's hair is described as golden, Ianthe's is "canned butter", for example. Almost like the life's been siphoned out, one might say.

So to kind of circle back around, do I actually think Ianthe is dead or a corpse like the other "wax" figures we've seen? Nah. Between Harrow and Palamedes, and especially Palamedes's medical necromancy, I think we would have heard about it by now if that were the case. But I do think it's entirely plausible that she's had a bit of a brush with death and that perhaps she's never quite fully come back from, and I do think she's being intentionally positioned as somewhat adjacent to death. If their parents were wanting twins from the outset, perhaps they used necromantic means to encourage the conception. Or if the pregnancy was as high-risk as I suspect it was, perhaps she'd died or nearly died at birth and been resuscitated. Their parents may have gone to extremes to keep her alive, to maintain their matched set. Given the themes of this series, I do feel it's necessary to draw a distinction between "resuscitation" and "resurrection" although they are curiously adjacent to one another. For all the text has grappled with dying and staying dead, dying and coming back, dying and choosing whether or not to return... we haven't touched on what something like a "near death experience" would look like. I'd imagine having that sort of experience, even at an incredibly young age, might lead one to be fascinated with, to use Ianthe's own words, "the place between death and life... the place between release and disappearance."

#it was making my brain itch also!#thank you for indulging my meandering rambles lol #I’ve got another ask sitting in my inbox that I’m working on too… I promise I’m not ignoring it!#tlt #tlt meta #ianthe tridentarius #nona the ninth spoilers #ask #mcdreary #two halves dead

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alkaline-wtr · 7 months ago

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WE WILL SURVIVE

- - CHAPTER 3 - -

Graves x reader Description: Reader makes an unexpected new friend and makes it through the city. Genre/Warnings: zombie apocalypse AU, Graves x reader, Ghost x fem!reader, survivor!reader,angst, gore, violence, explicit language, weapons, mentions of death WC: 4.5k

My Masterlist

** I FINALLY DID IT!! I pulled an all-nighter to finish this! I'd like to first apologize for this chapter taking SO long... I honestly couldn't get my ideas straight but 4 rewrites later and I'm actually pretty proud of it. I was worried about this chapter being too long but I decided I'd rather it be long and decent than rushed and awful. This one is more of a filler chapter to give some more context and backstory but I wanted it to still be entertaining. Also, this IS still a Ghost x reader! Don't worry! He's just going through some stuff ya know? Lastly, to the Graves haters!! as a former Graves hater myself, I encourage you all to give the man a chance because writing this chapter single-handedly changed my mind about him. Anyways, strap in it's a long one. Hopefully, the wait was worth it. I can finally sleep! Enjoy. PS: if you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist please let me know.

<< PART 1 << PART 2

You kept your eyes down, hugging the flashlight to your chest. The fear in your body caused you to tremble. The last time you had been face to face with someone on a road, you almost died, and this time, Ghost wasn't here to bail you out.

"Well, what do we have here?"

The stranger spoke in an enthusiastic tone. You looked at the toe of his boot nervously.

"Come on, sweetheart. Get off the ground."

The sound of your racing heartbeat filled your ears as you allowed your eyes to wander upward. The barrel of a rifle was inches from your nose, aimed at the asphalt below. It was relieving to know that the man wasn't actively threatening you. You took that to be a good sign.

The beam of light in your face was too bright to see the person's features.

Getting impatient with your silence, the man lowers the flashlight.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

His tone of voice suggested that he was annoyed with your reaction.

You slowly pull yourself to your feet. He seemed to be of an average height, taller than you. The man was blonde and had a fair complexion.

"What's your name?"

He raised an eyebrow. His tone remained almost lighthearted as if none of this had phased him.

"Y/n."

Your response is cautious. You kept your voice low. Your eyes searched him for any movement. The feeling in your gut was uncertain. He seemed authoritative yet approachable... possibly unpredictable.

"Well y/n, you're welcome. It seems I saved your ass back there."

The man's demeanor was cocky, and he was a bit full of himself. He swings the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and puts out a hand for you to shake.

Something about his personality seemed intense. You hesitated to offer your hand but when you did, he gripped it firmly, pulling your wrist down briefly in a simple shake.

"Names Phillip Graves. You alone?"

You nodded eyeing the gun on his back. Phillip flashed a charming smile.

"Where are you headed to?"

He seemed to be full of questions, you couldn't quite decipher whether that was good or bad.

Unfortunately, he was the only other person around and didn't seem to immediately want to kill you. Something within you told you to give him a chance, it's not like you had options.

"I was just trying to make my way through the city." You admitted.

Phillip nods posing his hands on his hips.

"That's bold, for someone alone, especially of your... stature."

You couldn't help but glance down at yourself a little offended.

"I just mean, you don't seem to be the survivalist type." He adds.

You brush off the comment and change the subject.

"Are you alone too?"

You question. His bright smile returns, making his blue eyes crinkle at the edges.

"Been solo for quite a bit now. Although, Maybe that has changed."

It came out more as a statement than a question. He was arrogant and as much as his cocky attitude irritated you, you weren't going to turn down the company. Unfortunately, he was right you weren't the survivalist type.

You sat atop a large pickup truck. Your legs crossed beneath you. Phillip had called it 'keeping watch' but you thought he just wanted you out of the way.

You rested your hands on your ankles. Phillip is kneeling on the driver's side of the car trying to get the truck to start.

Breathing out a bored sigh you lean over the edge of the roof to check on his progress.

"Any luck?"

The blonde man leans back resting an arm on his bent knee.

"Afraid not."

He groans stretching as he stands back up Brushing his hands together to knock off any dirt.

"Looks like we'll have to walk."

Glancing up at you, his hands coming up to rest comfortably on his hips.

"Where to?"

A hint of confusion and curiosity in your voice.

Phillip waved his hand in a gesture that said to come down.

You stretched your legs out sliding your backside down until your shoes hit the bed of the truck. His hand pressed gently against your back steadying you as you climbed out.

"Well, I wouldn't mind heading into the city. It's more dangerous, but I know a place we can find some real firepower."

The idea gave you a bad feeling. Even though that had been the original plan, going through the city was the last thing you wanted to do. Now with Phillip around to watch your back, you felt no need to chase after Ghost anymore.

You continue to think for a moment. A trip through the city wasn't the worst idea, considering your lack of supplies. Slowly, you nod in a hesitant agreement.

"Okay, I guess that could work." Unsure of your response.

"Great! We can head out in the morning. It would be too dark right now."

Phillip shuts the door and walks to the back letting down the tailgate. He sits down, letting his legs hang off the side and pulls the rifle around to his lap. You watch him for a moment. He seemed content.

"How long have you been on your own?"

You question. Phillip turns to look at you. Surprisingly, the smile doesn't leave his face, but you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

"Ah, I don't know exactly..."

He sighs and turns to face forward again as if thinking how to continue. You join him on the tailgate, pulling your legs up and tucking them underneath you.

"I had a group, some people I've known for a long time but... they left me behind. Although, they had good reason."

His shoulders fall in a dismissive shrug.

Curiously, you wanted to push the subject further but before you could ask more, he changed the subject.

"Well, you better get some sleep... I'll be lookout."

His eyes meet yours in a way that told you it hadn't been a suggestion. Scooting yourself deeper into the truck bed, you shrug your backpack off your shoulders and use it as a pillow. It took a moment to adjust to a comfortable position. You lay back with a sigh.

In your line of sight was the mess of short blonde hair on the back of Phillips's head.

"Goodnight." You spoke.

The words were soft and laced with nervousness. Worried about trusting a stranger while you slept but even more worried, he'd be gone when you woke up.

Phillip doesn't respond but you can see his slight nod of acknowledgment before closing your eyes.

The orange sun lit up the cool morning. It had only been a few miles of walking to reach the exit ramp that brought you directly into the city. The large buildings towering above you were nearly in ruins, windows broken, areas were burnt, and the streets were littered with shrapnel. You make your descent on the ramp. There is a row of tire spikes you have to step over and cones blocking the lanes.

You'd remembered the news reports back in the small towns warning not to enter the cities. For days the gruesome news reports showed the traffic on the highways, and the bodies of those infected lining the streets but, this had been the first time since the outbreak began three months ago, that you had seen it all firsthand.

The smell of morning dew wafted through the air as Phillip led you under an overpass. You looked on in awe at the grim scene ahead.

"Come on. We're almost there."

Phillip stated, eyes scanning to make sure it was clear for you to cross the street.

The two of you continued deeper into the city. Finally, reaching a chain-link fence.

"What is this place?" You asked.

He had gone closer to the fence and checked its stability.

"It's a military camp."

He answers, turning to you.

"They had troops set up in the cities to try and minimize the spread."

He gestures for you to come over.

"We're going to climb the fence. You first."

As you approach, he pulls your bag down your shoulders. Phillip tosses it over the fence and helps boost you up.

Perched at the top of the fence. You take a moment to look out over the camp, some of the infected were wandering around at the far end. Fear filled you like a hunger in your stomach as you continued down quietly.

Phillip tossed his own bag to the other side of the fence and leaned the rifle over the top for you to grab. You take it in your hands, watching over your shoulder cautiously as you wait for him to climb.

The thud of boots hit the pavement beside you and Phillip pulls the riffle from your palms.

"Let's go."

He leads you quietly to a large green tent. Following closely, your gaze lingered on Phillips's back. Taking in the sight of his cautious stance as he crept forward. Much like Ghost, he had great awareness.

You shuffle quietly under the tarp it is more humid underneath than you'd expected. Both of you split up within the tent in search of supplies.

The tent was lined with cots. Small metal chests rest at the ends. Some were stripped completely of their blankets, and some even missing mattresses. One cot had a duffle bag on it. It was empty besides a couple pairs of socks and a tee shirt.

You dump the clothes out and take the bag moving to the next bed. Stepping cautiously with your heels to stay silent.

Phillip finishes searching his half and comes over to see what you had.

"Just this and a pocketknife."

You respond holding up the duffle bag. He nods,

"Found this,"

He holds up a couple of half-empty bottles of water.

You frown.

"There isn't much here, maybe someone beat us to it?"

Phillip shakes his head. The wrinkles in his face stood out with the furrow of his brow.

"That isn't likely... Let's check the other tents they'll have better stuff."

You follow him down to the entrance of the tent. As you pass a cot at the end of the row you feel a tug at your ankle.

The shock sent you to the ground with a gasp. Snarling sounds grow louder as a corpse crawls out from under the cot. You turn yourself around trying to back to your feet but the corpse's grip is stronger than anticipated.

He pulls you a bit closer sending you flat on your stomach. You grunt as you use all your force to try and kick him away, but the angle of your body puts you at a disadvantage.

Phillip reappears at the entrance concerned when you aren't behind him.

"Shit, Y/n!"

He runs over pulling the rifle off his shoulder and using the blunt end to smash the corpse's head. The cracking sound of the skull makes you cringe. His grip loosens and you're able to scramble backward. Phillip hits him a couple more times making sure it's completely limp before helping you up.

"You okay?"

You rise back to your feet with a huff.

"Yeah, let's just finish searching and get the hell out of here."

Phillip pats your back before leading the both of you back out of the tent. You take in the site of the ravished camp. Tents littered with bullet holes, blood coating the entrances, and a circle of chairs around an ashy fire pit where a couple of bodies lay. The whole sight was gruesome, and the horrific scene was only intensified by the silence.

Phillip marches forward stabbing a blade into the back of a corpse's head. Another comes from the tent to his side, and he turns taking it out too.

You still couldn't fathom how people were just okay Killing so instinctively.

Phillip turns to you gesturing you to keep following.

The tent containing food was by far the worst. It smelled awful. Between rotten produce, decaying bodies, and moldy bread. It was the equivalent of a dumpster in the hot sun. You covered your nose to keep yourself from retching. Phillip however, didn't seem to be affected by the smell. You tiptoe passed an overturned table. Buzzing flies cut through the silence as they swarm a mess of bodies.

The two of you searched the entire tent from top to bottom, coming out of it with a few varying cans, a couple more bottles of water, and a handful of MRE packages.

The rest of the camp was pretty much the same. Infected wandering about, a few water bottles, lots of blood, and not much else. It wasn't until you reached an arsenal that Phillips's eyes lit up.

"Jackpot!"

He drops his bag on the ground stepping further inside to inspect the weaponry.

"I wasn't sure how much would be left here."

The tent had been looted to some capacity but, there was still plenty here to arm ourselves with. As he held a rifle looking down the scope and checking the magazine you turned to look inside a crate. You lifted the wooden top to peek inside startled when Phillips's alarming voice called out.

"CARFUL Y/N! Those are explosives. Don't touch anything!"

Suddenly you weren't feeling very secure, the thought of being surrounded by crates of explosives that could all go off and kill you at any moment... was unsettling, to say the least.

You heed Phillips's warning and stay still in the middle of the tent.

A pair of camo pants fall in front of you. Phillip had tossed them at your feet.

"Put those on." He commanded.

You raise an eyebrow glancing from the cargo pants up to him,

"What? Here?"

"I won't look. Just put them on."

He insisted, turning his back to you completely while he continued to check out the crates. You undo the button of your jeans and pull them off before slipping into the camo pants. They were a bit too large for you.

Phillip turns again without a word. Looking down at a pair of combat boots.

"These too."

He hands you the boots. You were hesitant to replace your sneakers. However, you knew the worn soles wouldn't last much longer with all the walking you'd been doing.

"Take this," Phillip says.

As you finish lacing up the boots, he turns to you, handing you a large rifle similar to the one strapped to his back. You shake your head holding it out an arm's length away from your body. Phillip had already turned away to grab another gun.

"Uh... No, I don't think I should have something like this."

Phillip ignores the remark as he picks out a couple more things from the arsenal. He walks back to you chuckling at your awkward resistance to holding the weapon.

He takes it back and props it against a stack of crates.

"Relax. You shouldn't be afraid of a gun in your own hand. Besides, if you're going to survive in this world you're going to need them."

You try to counter but, Phillip raises his hand signaling you to stay quiet, and kneels in front of you.

"Lift your arms."

You put your arms out to your side watching as Phillip wraps a black belt around your hips. The belt had sandy-colored straps attached to it. With a thick plastic holster slot for a handgun.

"Widen your stance a bit."

You step out, jumping a bit when you feel Phillips's hands on your inner thigh. He buckles the holster around your leg before moving his hands down to cuff the ends of the pants above your boots. His touch is light.

His rough hands begin working away at your boots, tying them tightly and wrapping the laces around the top before tucking the remaining strands against your ankles.

You clear your throat nervously as Phillip stands back up.

"Lookin' good!"

He smiles proudly. His hands rested again on his hips.

"How does it feel?"

You turn your leg a bit as you look down at the military get-up.

"Weird," you reply.

Phillip chuckles and walks back over to the crates.

"You'll get used to it. These will be much more efficient than jeans."

He walks back over holding a large knife covered by a leather sleeve. He reaches down to attach it to your belt opposite the gun holster.

"Now let's look over what we've got."

He grabs your backpack and turns it over kneeling to rummage through your belongings.

He looks over the pistol Ghost had given you.

"Didn't take you for a gun owner," he says setting it to the side.

"Oh... I uh- I'm not. I found it."

Your thoughts wandered back to your fight with Ghost. You still felt guilty about driving him away but, look at how Phillip had been helping. You thought. Maybe it was for the best that Ghost left.

You watch as Phillip splits the food and water rations, moving everything to a tan tactical backpack he'd found. The unnecessary items, like the dim flashlights, and the hammer you'd��collected were left in a pile on the ground.

He packed the duffle bag you'd taken from the tent for himself, filling it with ammo, extra weapons, and other equipment.

With his hand outstretched he hands you your new bag. You pull it on over your shoulders, fiddling with the little buckle on the front clicking it over your chest. Admittedly, you felt pretty cool being geared up with all this military equipment.

Phillip straps on his own holster, looking over a pistol before slotting it on his thigh. He steps in front of you holding the pistol from your bag. He had a box of ammo tucked under his arm as he clicked the magazine into place flipping the safety on.

He reaches down to slide it into your holster and steps back placing the box of ammo in your hands.

"If you're going to keep guns on you, Then, you're going to need to learn to shoot."

Your eyes widen in surprise as Phillip throws the duffle bag over his shoulder and grabs two identical riffles.

"What? I- I don't know if-"

Phillip holds his hand up to silence you again.

"Don't worry. I'm going to teach you. Here."

He hands you the rifle once again and heads out of the tent. You hesitate to follow, eyeing the little black flashlight Phillip had left out of your bag.

Something inside you couldn't bear to leave behind Ghost's flashlight. Even though it wasn't necessary now with all the new stuff Phillip had gathered, you decided to take it anyway. Opening one of the velcro pockets of the cargo pants, you place the flashlight securely inside.

The afternoon sun was high in the sky as you leaned over the ledge of an apartment building. The rooftop looked out over the city streets littered with infected. You watched them wander below as Phillip prepared your rifle.

"You ready?" He asks.

You step away from the edge taking the rifle from his hand.

"Do I really need to do this?"

You'd been nervous about this idea. You'd never been a big fan of guns and since the outbreak, you'd gotten by just on your ability to run and hide. You hadn't had to kill anyone or anything so far and weren't ready for that to change.

Phillip stands behind you, positioning your arms to hold the rifle properly against your shoulder.

"Now, always remember... The gun has some kickback. So, keep steady. Watch where you hold it on your shoulder you don't want to hurt yourself. Only aim the barrel with the intent to kill and finger off the trigger unless you plan to shoot. Got it?"

You nod and Phillip steps to the side crossing his arms over his chest.

"Alright, keep your finger off the trigger for now and get a feel for aiming. Look down your sight and line up your crosshair with their heads."

Phillips's instructions were clear but, you were left with so many questions about his life before the outbreak.

"Focus. You want to always aim for the head. Every second counts... Making that a habit will save you one day."

You take a deep breath tightening your grip on the rifle and tilting your head to look down the sight as Phillip had instructed. The movement is slow as you scan the street, trying to line up the cross hair with the head of one of the corpses.

After a few moments of practicing your aim, Phillip gives his next instruction.

"Okay, next I want you to line up your crosshair just like that, but this time pull the trigger."

Your heart pounded in your ears, you were not fond of the idea, to begin with, and now you'd have to do it. Finally, you would have to take a life... Even though you knew the infected were dangerous and no longer human, it didn't sit right with you. They used to be normal people just like you. What would be left if not your humanity?

Phillip waited patiently as you built up your courage, taking in deep breaths to calm your nerves. You scan the crowd again. Your crosshair stopped on the forehead of a woman. You watched her shuffling forward. Her colorless eyes looked straight ahead.

It took all your strength to pull back the trigger. The attached suppressor stifled the loud bang you'd otherwise expected to hear.

You were jolted backward. You'd missed your shot at the woman and gunpowder filled the space beneath your nose. Letting out a loud gasp you let your arms fall from their position, gripping the rifle tightly at your waist.

"It's okay," Phillip reassures.

"Try again, keep your stance tight. You'll need to put a bit of strength in it."

You nod, taking a few more deep breaths to calm your racing pulse.

Raising the rifle again you steady your feet aiming down the rifle once more. Slowly scanning, looking for the same woman as before. Once your crosshair lands on her, you take another deep breath and brace yourself for the impact.

Your finger squeezes the trigger. The bullet whizzes through the air landing on your target.

The woman's lifeless body drops to the cement. Adrenaline fills your veins and guilt settles in your stomach. It was a conflict of emotions, excited that you'd succeeded but sad that you'd shot a person.

Phillips' encouraging words broke you from your thoughts.

"Yes! Great job Y/N! Do exactly that. Go again."

The night settled over the city. An orange light illuminated the space around you as you watched the roaring flames of the crackling fire. Phillip had decided it was best to spend the night up here after a long session of gun training.

"You did a good job,"

Phillip says, sitting down across from you.

"You'll need a bit of practice, but I think you've got the hang of the basics."

Although encouraging, you couldn't push away the dreadful ache of guilt in your chest.

"That was the first time I'd ever had to kill one."

You speak up with a sad smile.

"Well..."

Phillip pauses, he gives you a look of understanding.

"I know it's hard... but sometimes we have to make those tough choices if we want to survive."

You thought back to Ghost again. Was his choice to leave you hard for him? Did he think he wouldn't survive if he stuck around?

"Phillip?"

You ask, almost hesitant to finish your question,

"How did you know about all of this?"

Phillip assumed you were referring to the guns and military camp.

"I was in the military... Before all this."

The answer hadn't exactly surprised you.

"The group you were with... Were they from the camp?"

He avoided eye contact with you deciding whether or not to answer you.

"No."

The answer was short and simple like he was holding back.

"But... back at the camp, you'd said that you weren't sure how much of the equipment would still be there. Does that mean you'd been there before?"

He sighed, it was obvious your curiosity had struck a nerve with him.

"Let's just say... I was in the city when it fell. It's not something I'd like to relive so, leave it at that... yeah?"

You had a lot more questions for him but, it didn't feel like a good time to push. So, instead, you changed the subject.

"Thank you."

Confused, Phillip raised his head looking at you over the fire.

"Without all your help... I probably wouldn't have made it today."

Phillip flashes one of his charming smiles. You were glad to see that he cheered up so quickly. He looked prideful even. Evidently, your thanks hadn't gone unappreciated.

"We all need help from time to time. It's like they say... Strength in numbers."

He explains. You smile back before letting your gaze fall. That rule may apply to all but Ghost. You thought.

PART 3.5 (optional) >> PART 4 >>

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