#ive already gotten so emotional about her ;_;

[teddydeer]

my real life daughter her name is princess blossom bunny ;w; lil picture of us under the cut!<3

her eyes are a lil uneven she is so perfect

[jhyoos]

Of Roses and Steel

chapter ten : flightless bird

knight sevika x queen reader

mentions: happy ending, happy family with sevika, soft sevika, wedding scene, caitvi, vander handing you off, teeth rotting fluff, i have no idea how adoption works.

notes : cried writing this. thank you guys so much for supporting this series and sticking with me throughout it. this is the first series ive done that has so many emotions and it’s out element of what i usually write.

<- previous chapter

The steady creak of the carriage wheels and the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the cobblestone were the only sounds that filled the space between you and Sevika as you made your way to the orphanage. The early morning air was crisp, and a faint golden glow crept over the horizon, signaling the start of a new day.

You leaned your head against the plush seat, exhaustion tugging at your limbs. Neither of you had gotten much sleep—not with the way you had spent the night tangled together beneath silk sheets, whispering promises and pressing feverish kisses against each other’s skin. Now, despite the fatigue weighing on your body, a quiet excitement buzzed in your chest.

Sevika sat beside you, one arm draped lazily along the back of the seat, her fingers idly grazing your shoulder. She turned her gaze to you, breaking the silence with a thoughtful hum. “What do you have in mind for a child?”

You glanced at her, a small smile playing at your lips. “An infant… a newborn,” you answered, your voice soft but certain. “Then maybe a child that can talk and walk. And another one after that.”

Sevika arched a brow, her lips twitching in amusement. “Three, huh?”

You nodded, watching her carefully. “Why? Did you have something else in mind?”

She exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “No, it’s perfect. I just…” She hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly where they rested on your shoulder. “Do you think we’ll have time for a newborn baby?”

Your heart swelled at the concern laced in her voice. You reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers as you gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Yes, I do,” you said firmly. “I’ll always make time for the things I care about… like you, for example.”

Sevika studied you for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she exhaled and gave you a small, genuine smile. “Alright,” she murmured. “If you feel that you can do it… then I trust you.”

You pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, letting your lips linger for a moment. “We’ll do it together,” you promised.

Sevika gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “Three kids…” she muttered, almost to herself. “Guess I better get used to sleepless nights.”

You laughed, nudging her playfully. “Oh, love, you already are.”

The heavy wooden doors of the orphanage groaned as they opened, revealing a modest but well-kept foyer. The air smelled faintly of burning wood from the nearby hearth, mingling with the scent of fresh bread. A few children ran past in a blur of giggles, their footsteps echoing through the halls.

A woman in a simple gray dress approached you both, her smile warm but restrained. “Good morning, Your Grace,” she greeted, dipping her head slightly. “And Lady Sevika. We’ve been expecting you.”

Sevika stiffened slightly at the formal title, but you gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before addressing the woman. “Thank you. We appreciate you welcoming us.”

She nodded and gestured toward a nearby sitting room. “Please, follow me. We have a few children that might suit what you’re looking for.”

Sevika hesitated. “We’re not here to ‘pick out’ a child like a merchant at the market,” she muttered under her breath.

The woman didn’t seem offended, only nodding in understanding. “Of course not. But I believe meeting them will help you find the one meant to be yours.”

You exchanged a glance with Sevika before following the woman inside.

The room was cozy, filled with soft chairs and shelves lined with old books. A few children sat together near the fireplace, their voices hushed with curiosity as they stole glances at the two of you. A nursemaid held a small bundle in her arms—a newborn, barely a few weeks old.

Your heart clenched at the sight.

“This is Elise,” the woman introduced, nodding to the nursemaid. “She was left on our doorstep not long ago. No family to speak of.”

You stepped closer, peering down at the sleeping infant wrapped in soft linen. She was so small, her tiny fingers curled into fists, her little chest rising and falling with each delicate breath.

Sevika stood beside you, silent. You could feel the tension in her posture, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered, reaching out to brush a gentle finger against Elise’s soft cheek.

The baby stirred, her tiny nose scrunching before she let out a quiet coo. Your heart melted instantly.

Sevika let out a slow breath. “She’s so…small,” she muttered, almost as if the realization had just hit her.

You turned to her, searching her face. “Do you want to hold her?”

Sevika’s eyes widened slightly, her usual confidence slipping for just a moment. But then, with a slow nod, she reached out. The nursemaid carefully placed the baby in Sevika’s arms, adjusting her hold until Elise rested securely against her chest.

Sevika stared down at the infant, her expression unreadable at first. But then, as the baby let out a tiny yawn and snuggled closer, something in Sevika softened.

You watched as her usually guarded features melted into something almost…tender.

“She’s perfect,” you murmured.

Sevika swallowed, still staring at the baby. “Yeah,” she admitted, voice quieter than usual. “She is.”

And in that moment, you knew—you had found your daughter.

The office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of your pen against the parchment as you signed the final documents. Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at Sevika, who was still holding Elise, gently bouncing the baby in her arms. The newborn slept soundly against her chest, her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of Sevika’s shirt.

You couldn’t help but smile. The sight of Sevika—so strong, so battle-worn—cradling such a delicate life stirred something deep within you.

“Sevika,” you murmured, drawing her attention. She looked up, her expression softer than usual.

“I know you don’t want to put her down,” you continued, offering her the pen, “but you need to sign your part of the guardianship.”

Sevika exhaled through her nose, shifting Elise carefully onto her shoulder. The baby let out a sleepy sigh, nuzzling into the warmth of her new mother. Only then did Sevika free one hand to take the pen, scrawling her name in bold strokes before leaning over to press a lingering kiss to your cheek.

The nursemaid, who had been overseeing the process, smiled warmly as she gathered the paperwork. “She’s a very calm baby—only cries when she needs to be changed or fed,” she informed you both. “The process will take a few weeks, and then she’ll be yours officially.” She paused before adding with a grin, “Congratulations on your baby—and your marriage, Your Majesty and my lady.”

You smiled, nodding in gratitude. “Thank you.”

Turning to Sevika, you found her still holding Elise, her grip a little tighter now, her gaze fixed on the baby as if she was memorizing every inch of her. She looked reluctant, unwilling to let go.

You reached out, rubbing your hand along her arm. “Sevika,” you said gently, “we’ll see her in a few weeks. You have to give her back.”

Sevika hesitated, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to hold on just a little longer. But after a deep breath, she carefully, almost reluctantly, handed Elise back to the nursemaid. The baby stirred slightly but remained asleep, her tiny face peaceful.

“Thank you so much,” you said, giving the nursemaid a grateful nod. Then, taking Sevika’s arm, you guided her toward the door.

As you stepped out into the cool morning air, Sevika let out a slow breath, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off the weight of the moment.

“She’s already got you wrapped around her little fingers,” you teased.

Sevika scoffed but didn’t deny it. Instead, she muttered, “She’s ours.”

And that was all that needed to be said.

The day had finally arrived. After everything—the battles, the grief, the losses, and the love—you were getting married.

You stood in front of the grand mirror, taking in the sight of yourself in the wedding dress. It wasn’t just a gown; it was a statement, a piece of art woven from the past, present, and future you were about to embrace. The fabric was a deep crimson, rich and regal, flowing down in cascading ruffles embroidered with intricate silver filigree. Each swirl and delicate pattern shimmered under the candlelight, like stars trapped in silk. The bodice hugged your figure, the neckline curving off your shoulders, where sheer lace sleeves draped down your arms, giving the illusion of silver vines wrapping around your skin. The long train spilled onto the floor behind you, a sea of red and silver, carrying with it the weight of this moment, of all the steps that had led you here.

Jinx let out a low whistle as she circled you like a predator admiring its prey. “Damn, queen. Sevika’s gonna short-circuit the moment she sees you.”

“She’s right,” Vi added with a smirk, crossing her arms. “I might have to stop her from devouring you in front of everyone.”

Caitlyn, ever composed, simply stepped forward and adjusted a lace detail on your sleeve, her touch light but firm. “You look breathtaking,” she murmured. “This dress… it’s perfect for you.”

You met her gaze in the mirror, feeling a rush of gratitude for all of them—for Caitlyn’s quiet steadiness, for Vi’s unwavering loyalty, for Jinx’s chaotic but genuine love.

Then, as if on cue, Vi leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Caitlyn’s lips. It was quick, almost instinctive, but full of meaning.

Jinx groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on! You two are worse than a romance novel.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on Jinx. It’s a day of love.”

“Well I’m single and forced to three wheel and match with my sister and her girlfriend,” Jinx shot back. “I’m not exactly in love with this idea. But I’m doing it for you and Sevika.”

The laughter eased the nerves that had started creeping in. But then came the next part. The one that had been lingering at the back of your mind since you made your decision.

You left them to their teasing and found Vander waiting outside the room. He was dressed in his best, the years showing in his face, but the warmth in his eyes never fading.

“Hey, kid,” he said softly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and stepped closer. “Vander…” Your voice was steadier than you thought it’d be. “I—I was supposed to have my father walk me down the aisle.” You paused, emotions thick in your throat. “But he’s not here. And… I know you’re not him. But you’ve always been there. You’ve always looked out for me. So… will you do it? Will you walk me down the aisle?”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, his expression unreadable, before he exhaled sharply and pulled you into a tight embrace.

“You don’t even have to ask,” he murmured. His voice was thick, rough around the edges with emotion. “It’d be my honor.”

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself this moment—this warmth, this fleeting second where the past and present met in something soft, something safe.

As he pulled back, he gave you one last look, his hand resting firmly on your shoulder. “Let’s go make Sevika the happiest woman in the world, yeah?”

With a final deep breath, you nodded.

It was time.

The grand hall was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, the golden flickers reflecting off the deep crimson and silver drapery that adorned the walls. The scent of fresh roses and incense filled the air, mingling with the hushed whispers of the gathered guests. At the altar, Sevika stood tall, her hands clasped in front of her, though her fingers twitched slightly—an unspoken testament to the emotions she was holding at bay.

The air shifted as the music began, the soft melody echoing through the vast space. The heavy doors at the end of the aisle creaked open, revealing you, standing arm-in-arm with Vander. A gasp rippled through the crowd at the sight of you, draped in a gown unlike any other. Deep red silk cascaded in flawless waves, embroidered with silver and gold filigree that caught the candlelight like scattered stars. The bodice hugged your form elegantly, with delicate lace sleeves that framed your arms. A flowing train trailed behind you, each step making the beaded embellishments shimmer like molten fire.

Vander squeezed your arm gently, his silent way of grounding you. You looked up at him, emotion welling in your chest. He wasn’t Silco, but he had been a father to you in ways that mattered. When you had asked him to walk you down the aisle, the moment had been raw, both of you holding each other as years of unspoken grief and love settled between you. Now, as you stepped forward, his presence was a comfort—a reminder that no matter what had been lost, love still remained.

Your heartbeat thundered as your gaze locked with Sevika’s. She was breathtaking in her tailored suit, the dark fabric embroidered with subtle patterns of silver, a crimson sash fastened across her chest. But it wasn’t just how she looked—it was how she was looking at you. Like you were her entire world, like nothing else in the universe existed beyond this moment.

The aisle suddenly felt impossibly long, your hands trembling slightly at the weight of the moment. But as you took each step, the nerves melted away, replaced with something far stronger. Love. Devotion. The absolute certainty that this was where you belonged.

At the altar, Vander hesitated for a moment before lifting your hand and placing it in Sevika’s. Her grip was warm, steady, and when you turned to look at Vander, there was a softness in his expression. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, murmuring, “Make him proud, kid.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

Sevika’s thumb traced over your knuckles as the officiant began speaking, but you barely registered the words. All you could focus on was her—the way her jaw clenched like she was trying to rein in her emotions, the way her eyes, usually so guarded, held nothing but tenderness for you.

Then came the vows. Sevika inhaled deeply before speaking, her voice steady, yet thick with emotion.

"I never thought I deserved something like this," she admitted, her fingers tightening around yours. "Never thought I’d find someone who could look at me the way you do. But you changed everything. You showed me what love could be. What home could feel like. I promise to stand by your side, no matter what comes. I promise to protect you, to cherish you, to love you for the rest of my days. You’re the only thing I have ever been sure of, and I will spend my life proving that to you.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek, but you didn’t bother wiping it away. Instead, you squeezed her hand and took a steady breath before speaking.

“Sevika, you are my heart. My safe place. The person who sees me, truly sees me, and loves me anyway. From the moment we met, I knew—knew—that my life would never be the same. And I was right. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I vow to love you, to honor you, to fight for you, for as long as we both shall live.”

Sevika’s breath hitched, her usually impenetrable exterior cracking for just a moment as her eyes glistened.

The rings were exchanged, the cool metal sliding onto your finger feeling like a promise, a piece of forever wrapped around your hand.

“By the power vested in me," the officiant said with a warm smile, "I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may kiss.”

Sevika wasted no time. Her hands cupped your face, and before you could even process it, her lips were on yours. The kiss was deep, slow, filled with every ounce of love she had for you. The world melted away, leaving only the two of you, bound together in love and devotion.

The crowd erupted into cheers, Jinx whistling obnoxiously, Vi and Caitlyn clapping while shooting each other teary smiles. When you finally pulled away, Sevika rested her forehead against yours, exhaling softly.

"We did it," she murmured.

"Yeah," you whispered back, a beaming smile breaking across your lips. "We did.”

The grand halls of your palace felt warmer now, filled with laughter, love, and the quiet contentment of a life you had built with Sevika. A month had passed since your wedding, and in that short time, you had never known happiness so profound. Every morning, you woke beside the woman you loved, and every night, you held your daughter close, feeling the weight of the life you had created together.

One of the most cherished additions to your home was the massive, breathtaking portrait that now hung beside the other royal family paintings. Commissioned from one of the most renowned artists in the kingdom, it depicted you, Sevika, and Elise in stunning detail—Sevika’s strong arm around your waist, your hands gently cradling Elise, and the baby’s wide, curious eyes gazing toward the viewer. It was a symbol of everything you had fought for, a testament to the love that had made your life whole.

Despite the demands of ruling a kingdom, you had found balance. The people flourished under your reign—taxes were lowered, the homeless found shelter, and opportunities for work and education expanded. The gratitude of your people was evident in their smiles, in the way they spoke your name with reverence. You had accomplished what many rulers only dreamed of, and yet, none of it compared to the joy of being a wife and mother.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of a warm hand brushing against your thigh. Startled, you sat up, instinctively tightening your hold on Elise, only to relax when your eyes met Sevika’s. She stood before you, looking impossibly good in a loose black dress shirt tucked into her dark trousers, the fabric clinging to her broad frame in all the right ways.

"God, she looks so good," you thought, your heart skipping a beat as she leaned down and captured your lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

She pulled away just enough to whisper against your lips, “Let me see my daughter.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but didn’t hesitate to place Elise into her waiting arms. The baby immediately cooed and reached for Sevika’s face, her tiny fingers tracing the familiar features of the woman who held her so often. It was clear Elise adored Sevika, and why wouldn’t she? Sevika had more time to spend with her while you attended to your duties as queen.

But you didn’t mind. You refused to let it feel like a competition. As long as the two most important people in your life were happy, that was all that mattered.

You watched as Sevika pressed a kiss to Elise’s forehead, murmuring something soft that made the baby giggle. Your heart swelled, and you realized—your life wasn’t just complete. It was perfect.

Sevika’s lips brushed against your temple again before she murmured, “Is any more children still on the table? I’ll take you up on the two more.”

You pulled back slightly, tilting your head as you grinned up at her. “Oh? Feeling ambitious, are we?” You playfully tapped her chest. “You do realize we already have a toddler who thinks the world revolves around her, right?”

Sevika chuckled, shifting Elise in her arms as the little girl dozed against her shoulder. “And? You said two more, and I don’t see a problem with that.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sevika, you’re acting like children grow on trees.”

She smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before murmuring, “They do if we adopt them.”

Your heart swelled at the thought. It was something you had talked about before, in passing, but hearing Sevika say it now—with such certainty, such devotion—made your chest tighten with emotion. You cupped her face, stroking her cheek with your thumb. “Then we’ll adopt two more.”

Sevika’s smirk softened into something tender, something so full of love it nearly took your breath away. “Good. Because I’ve already been looking into it.”

You gasped, laughing as you lightly smacked her arm. “You sneaky woman.”

She only grinned, pulling you in closer. “I just know what I want. And I want this—our family.”

The years had been kind to you and Sevika. Your love had only deepened, your home had only grown fuller, and your life had become something you never could have imagined.

Elise had blossomed into a sharp, witty young girl, full of curiosity and warmth. And just as Sevika had once teasingly suggested, you had adopted two more children—twins, Aaron and Alexandra. They had been abandoned at an orphanage after their parents died of overdose, and the moment you held them in your arms, you knew they belonged with you. Sevika had been the first to make them laugh, bouncing them gently on her knee, whispering promises of protection and love.

Life was beautiful, chaotic, and filled with love.

Tonight, however, your home was quiet. The children were back at the castle, being watched over by the nannies and trusted guards, while you and Sevika attended Caitlyn and Vi’s wedding in Piltover.

The venue was stunning, draped in deep blues and golds, with cascading roses hanging from the balconies and candlelight flickering against the glass windows of the grand hall. The air was thick with the scent of fresh flowers and the warmth of celebration.

You stood beside Sevika, her palm resting against the small of your back, her presence grounding you in the sea of nobles, soldiers, and friends. She wasn’t one for formal gatherings, and yet she looked at ease in her dark attire—her dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to be teasing, her vest hugging her frame perfectly, her expression unreadable but calm.

You caught her staring at you more than once.

“You keep looking at me like that,” you murmured, leaning into her touch, “and I’ll think you’re up to something.”

Sevika chuckled, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Just admiring my wife. Is that a crime now?”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart fluttered at the word—wife. It had been a month since you married, and still, it made your chest tighten with warmth every time you heard it.

The ceremony began, and you watched as Caitlyn and Vi exchanged vows beneath the towering floral arch. Vi, surprisingly composed, only faltered when Caitlyn took her hands and spoke of the life they would build together. Caitlyn, poised as ever, had her voice crack only once—when she called Vi her home.

It was beautiful.

Sevika sighed beside you, shifting slightly. “Didn’t think I’d see the day,” she muttered.

You smirked. “It suits them.”

She hummed in agreement, watching as Vi dipped Caitlyn into a kiss the moment they were declared married, ignoring all etiquette. The crowd erupted into cheers, and as the reception began, the hall transformed into a sea of laughter, music, and clinking glasses.

The two of you found yourselves at a quieter table, nursing your drinks, when a familiar voice piped up.

“I always knew love would get to me someday,” Jinx declared, dropping into the seat beside you with all the dramatics of a stage play.

You raised a brow, glancing at Sevika, who merely smirked. “Oh?” you prompted.

Jinx grinned, swirling the drink in her glass. “Yeah. I met someone—Ekko.” There was a pause, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’d like him. He’s brilliant—he can build anything, just like me. He gets me, you know?”

You had never seen Jinx like this before—her usual chaos dimmed to something quieter, something almost hopeful. It suited her.

“Well I’m glad you found someone who will keep up with your craziness,” you said playfully

She scoffed, flicking a peanut at you from the bowl on the table. “He actually likes my craziness, okay?”

The night carried on in a haze of laughter and slow dances. And at some point, you found yourself swaying in Sevika’s arms, her hands firm at your waist, her lips pressed to your temple as the soft hum of music surrounded you.

You sighed, melting into her warmth. “I missed the kids tonight,” you admitted.

She chuckled, her thumb rubbing slow circles against your hip. “I did too. But we’ll see them soon.”

You nodded, closing your eyes for a moment. Then, after a beat of silence, you looked up at Sevika playfully. “God…I wonder who Elsie might marry,” you say

“She’s not marrying. I’m going to teach her how to stab any man or woman that gets in her way,” Sevika casually says.

Your eyes snapped open. “What?”

Sevika smirked, swaying you both gently to the music. “Im just kidding. Half kidding”

You laughed, pressing your forehead against her chest. “What if that’s what my father thought about you?”

“Yet…I’m not injured and I’m happily married to you.”

You pulled back slightly, giving her a playful look. “Happily married?”

She looked down at you. “The happiest wife and mother alive.”

You smiled up at her before you both shared a kiss. You had built a life together—one of love, of warmth, of something indestructible.

Of Roses and Steel.

A love that was both soft and unyielding. Beautiful and fierce. Strong enough to withstand anything.

taglist (my shaylas <3) : @tinycherry0 @thesecondhandwoman @abbysleftbicepp @artfairyyyyy @bunninel @furrytaesss @savedforlaterr @veladeangl @5t4r1i9ht @imheadintothemountains @adora-moonshine @sevikasrightboob @80saturn @littlerainsprite @runawaybaby3 @rhian88 @athena-winters13

[sabertoothwalrus]

OK PREFACING WITH IM SORRY IF I ALREADY SENT THIS EXACT ASK BUT MY WIFI KILLED ITSSLF AS I SENT IT SO IDK IF IT ACTUALLY WENT THROUGH. but in case it didn’t . i know youve gotten this countless times in the past because i blog stalked just in case youve mentioned something similar before but i need to know if you have any specific inspirations when you draw exaggerated expressions specifically like these two images of marcille. ive actually cried laughing over this comic and being able to communicate this type of visceral emotion is such an insane skill and ive followed your art for probably close to a decade through various fandoms so watching you develop this style has been fucking awesome and epic. like i cannot articulate how funny these are to me i just need you to understand i look at this comic to inspire me to draw now. the closest comparison i can draw to the feelings they evoke are like those mspaint reaction images and also mspaint tails i included for reference even though you probably know exactly what im talking about anyways but its actually so much harder to do that intentionally when you study art. also i lied you literally don’t even need to answer this i just had to let you know how obsessed i am over your silly comics and now ive written out a whole ass discussion post about it. im sorry if this is weird at all i think my daily prescribed amphetamines r wearing off and i know this is such a dumb specific thing to fixate on and im so sorry if its not something you want to hear about your art. ive just always seen that as an artist this type of expressive stupid silly style is something that comes after a significant amount of time and practice and study and style development despite being “simple” in theory. its just so cool to have worked with your own style so much that youre able to go “off model” from it and still maintain consistency with the rest of the piece. i said it already and im sorry this is actually rendundant now but the ability to communicate such raw emotion somehow decreases from at its height when someone is a beginner artist learning how to proportion and keep a steady line and what looks “normal” but somehow it all comes full circle because taking all that experience and using it to almost return to where you started but in a fully informed and intentional way so you can make choices to draw characters like this when the situation calls for it is just dhcidogakgoshfhw. i think i need to cut myself off or im going to talk in circles im sorry tumblr user sabertoothwalrus i just am fascinated by your style and progress and the years you’ve dedicated to art can be seen in so many places but this is just one that stands out to me specifically.

MMMMM what a fun question!!!

I'm not gonna lie, I think it's just Letting A Drawing Be Bad. I definitely think the people that struggle with this the most are people who have genuinely very pretty art styles, to the point of being kind of perfectionist about it. and to Draw Funny often means Drawing Fast and Weird. Pretty is kind of the antithesis of funny (unless being pretty is the punchline). do drawings that make yourself laugh. tracing/lining funny sketches almost always makes them less funny.

one of my favorite types of humor is when it skews more deadpan, actually. This is one of the reasons I love Adventure Time. minimal expressions and flat line delivery + absurd context is a really good combo. the key to comedy has more to do with contrast! if your drawings are allllll crazy ren & stimpy all the time, they're not funny anymore cause it's just "normal". if it's all subdued UNTIL it's extreme, and vice versa, then it's funny. The reason this comic is so funny is because of the complete lack of any expression. I feel like the one you sent of Marcille shouting "WHAT" is funnier when you know how much she tries to be dainty and feminine and delicate, how much she values her appearance, and how averse she is to "gross" or "weird" things.

something I find really annoying (and this is with comics/animation in general, not the expressions themselves) is when the joke goes on for too long. Like you'll have the joke, then the punchline, and THEN the characters reacting to the punchline??? Like the author didn't trust that their audience would find the joke funny, so they basically drew in a laugh track. But, this is distinct from a character's reaction being the punchline (like how the examples you gave from my Marcille comic are). MY POINT IS sometimes expressions aren't as funny on their own as you think, and context can affect how you feel about it!

as far as inspirations go!

my own face! even if I don't have a mirror, I like making the expressions myself so I can "feel" where the points of tension on my face are, and it gives me a sense of what to exaggerate.

my brother's art, believe it or not! we've been trying to make each other laugh with our drawings since we were kids, and he's really good at it.

ATLA has some great expressions

OK KO has been a reallyyyy good source for me lately. That show is so tailored to my sense of humor and the expressions and line deliveries feel exactly like the kinds of things I'd come up with. The tone, timing, and art style are all really close to the tv show pitch I'm working on, so when I feel like I've "strayed" too much from it (like after drawing a bunch of dungeon meshi, and my art feels tighter and... idk "manga-ier"?) I like to go and watch a couple episodes of OK KO to loosen back up

A lot of things like OG Spongebob, Calvin & Hobbes, the Simpsons, Chowder, etc etc

memes in general. if it makes you laugh, keep it in mind

and lastly, I wouldn't say I ever try to mimic funny expressions I see. Like if I watch a show for inspo, I'm not pausing it to copy specific drawings, I'm just trying to notice patterns and pay attention to what about it I find funny.

talking about being funny is really bizarre and I dunno if it makes it lose some of the magic. Ultimately it's something you can't think about too much, and just gotta go with your gut.

[grievedeeply]

hi! do u think u can write some platonic miguel o’hara x reader headcannons ? where the reader is around miles and gwen’s age (they’re also a spider-person) and they develop a father-child/mentor relationship

soooo i decided to combine this request with another one since they're so similar. so at the end of this, there's a short drabble about the scenario they requested! enjoy!

gn!reader | tws: mentions of death and loss, ivs, hospitals in general, everything that comes with being hurt

platonic miguel o'hara headcanons + drabble

he has trouble thinking of anyone as family. he lost his daughter, and his family.. it feels wrong of him to think of anyone else in the way he thought of them

until you come along. you, so happy to be involved in the spider society, so happy to be helping.. it always puts a grin on his face. an expression that had felt somewhat unfamiliar to him since the losses he experienced

it takes him a long time to ever get him to admit to anyone that he cares about you. he's a tough person with an equally tough exterior, so expect him to keep up that act for awhile

you're just so young. you're learning and growing and he wants to be there for all of it. it's a weird thing for him to feel and he doesn't really like it

eventually, he'll start to crack. he becomes a bit of a mentor for you, teaching you everything you need to know about being a spider person (even if you already know it)

miguel doesn't know how to express his emotions very well, but he does care about you. he just shows it in different ways than saying it verbally. he'll buy you something you mentioned liking and leave it in your room in your universe to find

you think of him as a father, but you don't bring it up to him. it feels weird to say something like that to his face. why would he think of you in a familial way anyway? you were just some extra spider.. right?

you were too reckless. he remembered telling you that one day. all you did was shrug your shoulders and laugh it off, telling him you'll be fine. you didn't stay true to your word, and he wished that he was there. he didn't even know what happened, but as soon as he was told of your injuries he rushed off to see you.

critical condition. he repeated the words over and over in his head. he couldn't go through another loss like this, he told himself. he should've never gotten so attached to you. what was wrong with him? doesn't he know better by now? all of his relationships end in flames. why was he so intent on keeping you by his side, of keeping you safe? you just reminded him so much of her.. too much.

his daughter was younger than you when she died.

he couldn't protect her, but he could protect you. he should've protected you, and he berated himself for not being there. he should've given you something easier. he knew you could handle yourself well, but he couldn't help but to think that he was at fault for your injuries. you were always so reckless. what did you do this time?

he repeated your room number in his mind now, over and over like a mantra until he stood outside of the door. was he even ready to see you like this? he imagined the ivs poking through your skin, the oxygen hooked up to you through your nose. no, he told himself, but he will anyway. it was better to see you if you were to..

he pushed the thought out of his head at the same time he pushed open the door. the room was completely empty. the steady beating of your heart through the monitor filled the air, and he took in a deep, shaky breath. you were asleep. good. you needed to be. you looked just as he expected, only worse. your body was covered in bruises and bandages that covered up cuts you received in your fight.

whoever did this would pay.

he pulled up a chair, making sure to stay as quiet as he could to risk waking you from your slumber. hesitantly, he lived his hand to yours.

he sat it on top of it. your wrappings that covered your hands were drenched in blood. he clenched his jaw. they would pay.

he wouldn't let his family get taken away from him again. he couldn't. he stared down at your face.

you were his own, and they would pay.

[danyyytarggg]

my many complaints about hotd that no one asked for (i have not read fire&blood):

- isn’t there supposed to be a war going on? besides episode 4, i feel like we’ve only gotten very small snippets of war taking place. give us more snippets of war, death, despair, of the effects of this fight for the throne (besides that of king’s landing) please. even the emotions are off. i wish there was a greater sense of urgency that comes with a war being waged. i feel like jace is the only one capturing this urgency.

- going off of the first point, why isn’t rhaenyra showcasing any of this urgency? or anger? true determination? she doesn’t even do anything and then states something along the lines of “i don’t think i can win this war.” what? why isn’t she fighting tooth and nail for her throne? why isn’t she fueled with more rage that her son was murdered, her throne usurped? i’m sorry but she truly has not been doing anything except begging to go off to fight on syrax which is admirable but very much not helping. she needs to be making moves and barely any moves are being done. and then she complains about the way the others view her. i’m not a fan of her council but also you have to prove them wrong by actions not just by words, and there are no actions but plenty of words on her end.

- rhaenyra’s hesitance to do anything. i understand her hesitance for war but its just been taken way too far in the show. by continuing to paint rhaenyra in a good light by making sure she doesn’t do anything that could be seen as bad takes away from her character and how interesting it could have been.

- overall, not a fan of aegon’s characterization and while i haven’t read fire and blood, from what ive heard about his character in the book, it is infinitely better and more interesting. he’s supposed to be the opponent of rhaenyra and yet his character is very weak and almost brushed aside in favor of a more rhaenyra versus alicent front which makes me upset. i am absolutely not a fan of aegon at all. i truly wish they did not make his character the way they did as it would have been so much more interesting if they went with his book characterization instead.

- daemon. his harrenhal arc was interesting initially but has dragged on far too long. i understand that they’re trying to flesh out a character arc for him however when there are only 8 episodes and a supposed war raging on, spending so much time and energy on this arc seems like mistake when they could have spent this time advancing and fleshing out the war more. if anything, i feel as though it was purposefully done in this way in order to give an excuse to NOT flesh out the war considering the war doesn’t seem very fleshed out in almost any front except for the happenings in King’s Landing. also, he is chasing away all possible allies, which is frustrating.

- the whole “a misunderstanding started the war” is lame. the greens were already in opposition of team black way before this misunderstanding, why is it now suddenly this one misunderstanding is the driving force for what is taking place when it never was before? trying to paint alicent in a good light by making the whole thing seem like a misunderstanding takes away from her character and how interesting it could have been.

- how locationally-isolating the show has been. everything seems so isolated to driftmark-king’s landing-dragonstone-harrenhal. i wish we could see more of what’s going on in westeros

- helaena. her character is nowhere near as present or fleshed out as i would like it to be.

- the way jaehaerys’ and lucerys’ deaths feel very much forgotten. everyone got over the deaths very quickly with little mention besides the first few episodes.

- the overall reactions to rhaenys’ death was underwhelming in my opinion.

- reaction to aegon and sunfyre being injured: team black’s reaction to aegon and sunfyre potentially being dead was underwhelming and further drives the point that despite aegon being the direct opposition to rhaenyra, the writers truly do not view him as a major player at all. team green’s reaction was also so so underwhelming. this is the guy you all have been saying is the true heir to the throne, the whole driving force behind your team’s actions, ambitions, etc - and yet, there’s barely any true, substantial reaction to him being nearly killed. it’s just been overshadowed by aemond’s ambitions and the secret of aemond being the one to nearly kill him and sunfyre. also you guys are basically down a whole dragon and there’s no reaction to that?

- i’m sorry but mysaria x rhaenyra. it’s just the idea that bothers me - the writers can’t give us a proper queen!rhaenyra arc, but they can give us another rhaenyra romance. the show continues to build rhaenyra’s character around her romantic partners. without daemon by her side, i would have liked to see her come to herself and develop without a romantic partner to fall back on. instead, she has another romantic interest to fight her battles (mysaria being the mastermind behind the plans helping rhaenyra win the throne/win over the people of King’s Landing). it just makes rhaenyra seem entirely incompetent on her own.

- alicent x criston cole. i feel like the show has been putting so much attention and tension on alicent’s relationship with criston cole when i would have preferred more focus on alicent’s relationship with her children. also, for a woman who is so strongly against sexual relations outside of marriage, about duty and honor, i feel like showing us exactly how alicent x criston cole came to be is very much important for alicent’s character? instead of showing us that they’re in a relationship without any information on its progression, making it seem so out of character for alicent.

- yeah otto left but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be showing us his POV.

- the very much lack of unity in team green.

- the very much lack of unity in team black.

what i like:

- my girl alys

[milfjuulpod]

Guidance Ch IV

An apology is shared between you and Melissa, with a surprise had afterwards.

read the first chapters here

A/N hi don’t hate me for this being so late, i’m working on the next chapter for you lovelies already! does anyone read these notes? anywho lmk what you think!! kisses 💋

Before your alarm went off in the morning, you were up. Anxiety high, mind full of everything that could go wrong meeting with Melissa today. Last time you saw her it went…not well. You were ready thirty minutes early, heading to the coffee shop much faster than you should be driving at 6:30 in the morning. 

Coming on to the school grounds, you had your bag slung over your shoulder, two coffees in hand. A latte for you, and a macchiato for Melissa. Of course there was an apology to go along with the coffee, but it couldn’t hurt to bring her a little present. After dropping off your personal belongings, you made the unbearable trek to her classroom. The warmth from the drinks didn’t help the sweat coming from your hands. 

At her door, you took in a deep breath. Never before have you been so nervous to apologize. What if she was still mad and didn’t want to listen? What if she didn’t believe you? Realizing the options were to go inside and give it your best shot, or stand outside the door and spiral out, you finally decided on the former. 

A couple quiet knocks on the door, and you gently let yourself in. Melissa’s head popped up at the sound, her demeanor stiffening at the sight of you. “Hey, I wanted to apologize,” you started. The redhead said nothing, in fact she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Nonetheless, you approached her desk and continued. 

“I shouldn’t have believed what I heard, especially since things were going so well, there was no reason to. And I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of it. I know you’re probably regretting starting to be friends, so I hope we can at least remain professional.” You ended the statement by placing the coffee in front of her and immediately leaving. After accidentally getting a bit emotional with your words at the end, you just wanted to leave. 

Luckily your office wasn’t far, and you were back in a safe space, for now, at least. You pulled out your phone to text Gregory that you took his advice and hoped for the best, and texted Janine the same thing as well. One for logical support and one for girl talk, of course. After wrapping up those conversations, you started up your computer for the work day. Only fifteen minutes until the kids came in, which didn’t affect you as much, but chaos would sure ensue. 

You had barely gotten started when there was a knock at your office door, strange since it was so early. You offered a “Come in!” and poked your head past the screen to see who could be needing something at this hour. It was Melissa, with a look you hadn’t seen on her before. Embarrassment, shame maybe. 

     “Hey,” She started, closing the door behind her. She didn’t sit down at your desk though, instead she remained at the door. “Thank you for the coffee, you didn’t have to do that. If anything I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that hon, I know how Janine can be and the reputation I have. I know you mean well.” 

You were silent for a moment. Shocked, honestly, at Melissa’s words and actions. It took you a moment to gather your words, trying to be careful this time. 

       “It’s okay. I think it’s safe to say neither of us handled it well,” You joked. She smiled, but didn’t look at you. The floor seemed to be more interesting at the moment. The redhead stood there silently, looking at the floor. Her smile faded into a furrowed brow. Unsure of what to do, you waited, afraid of scaring her off. From what you knew about the woman, Melissa was not one to get emotional with others, so treading lightly seemed best. 

      “I don’t regret it, by the way.” She finally spoke. Her emerald eyes finally returned to your gaze again after she got her first sentence out. You bit back a smile, trying to hide the joy and pride from watching Melissa work out and speak about her emotions not only in front of you, but to you directly. It was a big step for her, so it was clear she was no longer upset with you. She seemed to be in a better place, so you tried for more. 

      “You don’t regret what, Melissa?” You asked, but instead of keeping eye contact, you focused on moving your bag from the desk to the floor and a few other items around, giving her a moment of space and pseudo-solitude. 

       “Being friends with you. Earlier when you were…bringing me coffee you said I might regret starting to be friends with you. I just want you to know I don’t,” She answered after a couple moments. You looked back up at her and smiled, unable to hold it back this time. “I’m happy to hear that, I’ll see you at lunch?”

        “I’ll see you there,” Melissa replied and returned your smile, turning to make her exit. “Hold on…Did you just, guidance counselor me?” She asked, hand frozen on the door handle. 

      “Maybe,” You replied, not taking your eyes off the screen in front of you. The redhead huffed in annoyance but you turned your gaze at the right time and saw she was still smiling. 

The first half of the day was easy to get through thanks to the buzz from seeing your work crush earlier. Lunch luckily came sooner than expected, and you made your way down to the break room with a pep in your step. Upon arrival, you saw Melissa and Barbara were already at their usual seats, with a third empty spot next to Melissa. You started walking towards the fridge, but stopped halfway. In an effort to make amends with your friend this morning, lunch was completely forgotten about. With a sigh, you turned back around to get lunch elsewhere. 

       “Hey kid, where ya goin?” You knew that voice from anywhere. With an extra pouty look, you turned to face Melissa. 

       “I may or may not have forgotten my lunch this morning, so I’m going to grab something at the store really quick,” You answered. Melissa kicked out the seat next to her and motioned for you to come to her, so you did. She pushed the tupperware she had to you and got up to the fridge to grab a salad she had as well. When she sat back down, you gave her a quiet thank you, to which she gave you a warm smile. 

    Your phone buzzed on the table, a text from Jacob that read, I’m glad to see this morning went well! 

    You smiled and set the phone back down, and when you looked up, Melissa was looking at you with a smirk and raised brow. Rolling your eyes earned you a nudge from the other woman, she obviously saw the text as well. Lunch continued with this light energy, everyone chatting about their day and whatever was on their minds for the next thirty minutes. It was nice, you were starting to feel settled at Abbott. Even though the issue with Melissa wasn’t pleasant, it made you realize how quickly you had become one of the group.

Despite getting a head start on this morning, the day seemed to drag with the amount of work on your plate. It wasn’t until after the kids had left that you were finally pulled away from the strenuous projects you took on. 

“It’s open,” You said sweetly to whoever was behind the door, not yet glancing up from the computer. 

“Hey, what’s-Oh! Melissa!” You interrupted yourself as soon as you looked up and saw the Italian woman. She tried to hide her smile and pink cheeks, but you caught it, just in time. 

“Hi hon, could I sit with you for a minute?” She asked, but instead of pulling out the chair in front of you, she crossed sides of the room and sat herself atop your desk, barely scooting over your keyboard. 

“Yeah go ahead, make yourself at home,” You teased. In that instant, you realized how close she was to you. Her knees were level with your abdomen, just a couple inches away, sitting oh so pretty on your desk. You couldn’t look anywhere but her even if you wanted to, and couldn’t help but wonder if she did that on purpose. 

“Listen…I’m startin’ to think my apology this morning wasn’t enough. Let me make you dinner tonight, at mine,” Her sultry voice spoke. 

Dinner? At Melissa’s? Cooked by her? Was this a dream?

“Words, my dear. Yes or no? You won’t hurt my feelings.” It was so hard to focus on her words and speak your own when she looked this good, this close, treating you with this kind of attention. 

“I- Yes. Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Good, because I lied. That would’ve hurt my feelings,” She smiled at you, and you returned it. “I’ll text you my address now, just let me know when you’re heading over. I’ll probably start cooking around 6, but you’re welcome over whenever,” Melissa told you. She went to stand and take her exit, but you stopped her with your hands on her knees. 

“Wait, do you want me to bring anything? I can’t expect you to do all the work,” You said honestly, trying to ignore how warm Melissa’s skin felt through the fabric of her pants. Unbeknownst to you, she was trying to ignore the sensation as well. 

“Mm, I think I have a couple bottles of wine at the house but if you want anything specific I’d grab it on the way. Other than that, just bring you. That’s all I need,” The redhead smiled and gently took your hands off her so she could stand. As she walked out of your office, she shouted, “See ya tonight!”

[siilvan]

bloodsport – IV

prologue | one | two | three | next

characters: vladimir makarov

summary: your first time back in the field is a whirlwind of emotions, especially after being forced to rely on yet another enemy. new information is revealed, and you realize that a drastic action may be the only way to fix this mess.

genre: angst, slowburn, enemies to ?, fem!reader (callsign: petra)

warnings: semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood/injuries, poorly written spec-ops, allusions to trauma and stress, reader has a bit of a breakdown, graves lol

word count: 6k

note: giving a quick PSA here— please be mindful about what y'all write. i know this fic is about a very controversial and problematic character, but i try to be mindful about how i portray him and his actions. don't romanticize things that should not be romanticized, and be respectful to people. COD as a whole is problematic, but that doesn't mean we need to be a shitty community. support real victims, don't spread hate. easy peasy.

also, yes, i changed my formatting. the little text is too hard to read without my glasses, so... yeah. hope it's not ugly now :)

you spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, trying but failing to will yourself to fall asleep. soap texts you shortly before the sun comes up - a picture of himself and the rest of the team, posing for the camera. they're covered in dirt and ash, exhaustion apparent in their eyes, but the image is enough to make you crack a smile.

you give them a few hours, pulling yourself out of bed after sunrise and occupying yourself with mundane tasks around the house, before picking up the phone and calling price.

"hey, captain. sorry for calling so early." you chuckle, leaning against the arm of the couch.

"don't worry about it," price clears his throat, hoarse from fatigue, and you wonder for a second if he was asleep before you called. "was just finishing some paperwork. what d'you need?"

a low sigh escapes from you. "i know it's only been a day, but... can i come back? i really want to get back to work."

you can hear papers shuffling from his end. "i know you want to work, but we just can't take the risk—"

"there isn't going to be any risk," you assert, raising your voice slightly and interrupting him. you pause and wet your lips, speaking in a softer tone again. "please, captain, i know i can handle it. i just want to get back to normal already."

the line is quiet for a long moment, with price silently deliberating over your request. you shift nervously, gripping the phone tighter as you wait impatiently for a response.

finally, after you shift for the umpteenth time, he exhales deeply.

"i'll see if i can convince laswell, okay?" he concedes. you can hear his chair creaking as he leans back - you're assuming, at least. "pack your bags. i'll send a transport helicopter in an hour."

⋆⋆⋆

that's how you ended up at base again, with the team welcoming you back with open arms. laswell initially rejected the idea, stating the same concerns as before, but price managed to sway her after some discussion.

so, now you're in a meeting room, gathered around a table with lists, blueprints, names, pictures— any and all of the intel that the task force has gotten their hands on, scattered across the surface. you blink when price raps his knuckles against the tabletop, drawing your attention.

it's laswell who talks, shooting a glance around the table to address the group. "as you're all aware, shadow company has been a target of the konni group in recent times," she starts, sending you a cursory look, asking you for confirmation. you nod, and she continues. "not only have they been fighting the group head-on in al-mazrah, but there's been several incidents with undercover konni operatives in their ranks."

"good, let 'em fuckin' deal with it." soap remarks, earning noises of agreement from gaz, ghost, and yourself. price and laswell aren't as entertained by it.

"general shepherd, commander graves, and their men betrayed us." laswell pauses before letting out a heavy sigh. "i know none of you were happy about the ceasefire, and i know that you were furious when graves resurfaced. but, besides farah's forces, shadow company is our strongest ally."

"—and the only one capable of making any strong moves without risking an all-out war." price adds, shaking his head. everyone's displeased with the situation, that much is obvious.

"where are you goin' with this?" ghost asks. a tense silence fills the room for a long moment, making you shift awkwardly.

laswell motions towards the door on the far side of the room with her head. you cast your gaze in the same direction, watching as the door is pushed open.

as if on cue, the very man that should've been buried in flames in las almas walks into the room. the shadow himself. philip graves.

"oh, fuck off." soap growls at the man, looking ready to lunge at him from across the table. ghost steps forward and, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reaching for his sidearm. gaz and price are eerily quiet while glaring daggers at him, and you immediately feel the blood rush to your ears as every nerve commands you to shoot him yourself.

"i know this isn't ideal," laswell attempts to placate all of you, though the cold stare she regards him with betrays her calm demeanor. "but, for now, we're allies. we have a bigger threat to worry about."

"yeah, those konni guys are, uh..." graves perks up, languidly sauntering up to the table. he purses his lips for a second, thinking, before clicking his tongue. "real troublesome. i've lost a lot of good men thanks to them."

"good." ghost mutters, straightening himself next to soap.

price cuts through the tension with a wave of his hand. "alright, none of us want this, but we've got no other options." he grumbles. "konni's moving towards urzikstan. if we want to stop 'em, then we need to cooperate."

you eye graves from your peripherals, recalling the information that makarov gave you a couple weeks ago. graves isn't in on shepherd's plan, but he's likely the only person who knows the general's whereabouts. you need to say something while you still can. how will he take the news, though? he's betrayed you before, he'll do it again if it benefits him.

"petra, you listening?" laswell's voice abruptly interrupts your thoughts. you divert your attention back to her and notice that everyone's focus is on you.

"i have something i need to say," you blurt out. you need to bring up the general before he potentially ropes graves in.

you receive a collection of interested stares, urging you to go on.

"when i was captured, i managed to get some information," you drop your gaze, narrowing your eyes at the documents laid out. "we're not just fighting konni and al-qatala. some of the forces occupying al-mazrah are under shepherd's command."

the silence that falls over the room is almost deafening. the group balks at you with shock and confusion written on their expressions, until graves huffs out a laugh.

"general shepherd's 'forces' are my men. i can assure you, petra, that none of my shadows are workin' with konni." he says with a lopsided smile, confident as ever.

you turn to face graves fully, grimacing. "i'm not talking about your shadows. shepherd has another group under his command."

"what group?" price asks.

"cia operatives. ex-soldiers, specifically." you turn back, eyes flitting between price and laswell. "he's sending men undercover. the unmarked mercenaries that we keep encountering? that's them."

laswell shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. "where did you get this information?"

you freeze. your mouth opens to say makarov's name, but for some reason, you hesitate. with a deep inhale, you blink away the odd feeling and force the words past your lips.

"makarov. i'm not sure why, but he told me about it."

yet another unbearable tension befalls the group; you're getting close to ripping your hair out over it. as if reading your thoughts, gaz speaks up.

"you know about this?" he says, directed at graves. he's tight-lipped, glowering at him.

graves doesn't respond, letting the question hang in the air. he looks just as surprised as the rest of you - makarov was telling the truth, then. shadow company isn't in on the plan. shepherd has effectively betrayed his strongest ally, to your knowledge.

"i'm sure there's an explanation," graves utters, chuckling to himself. "war's a dirty business. there's good reason to send men undercover."

"he's got part of the special activities division in his pocket." laswell says.

"isn't that where you pulled alex from?" price hums, earning a nod in reply. it's a bad situation, to say the least.

you regain everyone's attention and continue. "i don't know the full plan, but makarov suspected that shepherd's doing this to put himself back on top. start a war, get himself marked as a hero, reap the rewards."

graves raises a brow at you, amusement written on his face. "and, we should trust the judgement of a terrorist?" he says while searching the room for support.

price keeps his gaze on you, though the distant look in his eye tells you that his mind is elsewhere. "i'd trust this one's judgement." he mutters, jaw clenching.

"well, there's no point in standin' around, is there?" graves seems to bounce back quickly, shrugging off the news. "we've got a job to do and a terrorist to catch. let's focus on that."

"i'll contact farah and see if alex knows anything about the men under shepherd's command." laswell says as you all break away from the table and start to file out of the room.

"keep us updated," price nods to her before turning to the rest of you. "wheels up in thirty. we'll debrief on the way."

you breathe out a relieved sigh once everyone breaks off, heading off to finish any last minute preparations before takeoff. you linger in the corridor, running a hand down your face and groaning into the palm of your hand. of course, you have no choice but to work with an enemy whilst relying on intel from yet another. at least you can be open with your team about this one.

shepherd and makarov are your targets. graves comes after. take down all three, and your headaches are gone. no more doubting yourself, no more questions, no more nights spent looking at lists of crimes that make you feel sick. you can resume your not-so-peaceful life with the rest of the task force and celebrate the world being a somewhat safer place.

your phone buzzes in your pocket, distracting you from your pondering and pulling you back to the present. you frown at the name on the caller id.

it's a single letter: 'v.'

after your conversation - if you can even call it that - with makarov last night, you saved his number. putting his name in your phone is basically shooting yourself in the foot, so you saved it under a name that gives you deniability in the event someone sees it.

you duck into an empty rec room nearby and accept the call, keeping an eye on the door as you lift the phone to your ear.

"you actually picked up the phone this time." makarov remarks upon you answering. your frown deepens, brows furrowing.

"if you don't have anything important to say, i'm hanging up."

he chuckles, far too casual for your liking. "i have an update. something that i'm sure you'll be interested in."

you shift, leaning against the back of one of the couches. "what is it?"

"in case you're planning to return to al-mazrah, just know that shepherd's men have been given strict orders to target and eliminate members of the one-four-one."

a chill creeps up the back of your spine. it's an unsurprising order, but you still rack your brain as to why he gave it. does shepherd somehow know that you know about his plans? it shouldn't be possible— until the meeting that finished just minutes ago, the only people privy to the knowledge were makarov and yourself.

of course, shepherd's allies are aware of it, but the only ally of his that you've contacted is graves. you doubt that he's talked to the general in the short amount of time since, which eliminates graves as a possibility just as quickly as you suspected him.

there has to be another source. someone feeding him information, keeping the one-four-one under watch.

"shepherd's got a mole in our group." you reply, pinching the bridge of your nose. "fucking hell. he knows that we're onto him."

"'we,' lieutenant?" he comments with an amused lilt in his tone.

"my team, asshole. he's got men undercover in your group and in my squad. he's watching all of his enemies."

makarov hums, voice dropping a little. "you have a keen eye, petra. have you asked the shadow about shepherd's whereabouts, yet?" he asks, brushing past your frustration.

"haven't had the chance," you mutter. "based on his reaction to the news, i doubt he'll give it away, though. we might have to get the location ourselves."

he exhales, audible through the phone. "it would be more convenient if you could convince him to tell you."

you roll your eyes. "yeah, of course it would. just don't expect any miracles. aren't you the one with all the mysterious ways of gathering information, anyway?" you grumble sarcastically and move away from the couch, starting to pace around the room while keeping your gaze on the door.

"i can get his location if necessary, but that would eliminate your usefulness in this operation, wouldn't it?"

he's right, and you hate him for it. "you still need me to kill him." you counter bluntly.

"i can do that, too. your team wants revenge for his betrayal. this is me being charitable - don't disappoint."

makarov ends the call before you have the chance to argue, leaving you to huff to yourself in the empty room. a moment later, a head pokes around the doorway, startling you and nearly making you drop your phone when you jump.

gaz is regarding you with a sly grin as he fully reveals himself and steps into the room. your palms immediately moisten with sweat as worry floods your mind - how much did he just hear?

"so, who you talkin' to?" gaz cocks his head to the side, teasing. he's relaxed, standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

you pocket your phone and flash a calm smile. "that depends. you have any guesses?"

he chuckles, lifting one of his hands to playfully stroke at his chin as he thinks. "let's see... i know you weren't home for long, but—" his grin morphs into a lopsided smirk as he eyes you suspiciously. "y'got a boyfriend?"

dear god, no.

you resist the urge to gag at the thought and shake your head. "nope, it's just a... friend of mine."

gaz leans forward, an inquisitive 'ah' tumbling from his lips. "a friend, eh? they got a name?" he asks.

"he, uh... just goes by 'v.'"

"'v?' like the letter?"

you answer with an affirmative "mhm," patting gaz on the shoulder as you brush past him. "it's a nickname i gave him. don't worry about it."

gaz groans in exasperation as you stroll towards the door, trying to ignore the way your heart races. lying is a normal part of the job, but lying to your team? generally not recommended.

"most 'just friends' don't have exclusive nicknames, you know!" gaz calls out from behind as you round the corner and start down the hall, leaving him alone.

a sick part of you finds the sentiment - makarov, being anything more than an enemy - entertaining, but your better judgement steers you back on track. you've got a mission to prepare for, and the likelihood of something going wrong is as high as ever. you need to focus on the mission and getting graves to give up shepherd.

⋆⋆⋆

shadow company's gunship is a familiar sight as you climb aboard, slipping past the groups of shadows and finding your teammates gathered around what you can only describe as the command center. graves is standing close by, though the tension is palpable as you approach.

after the aircraft lifts off is when graves talks, addressing the soldiers lining the seats of the craft.

"alright, now i know we've had our problems in the past," he starts, briefly acknowledging your group before turning back to his men. "however, none of that matters right now. the one-four-one is our ally on this mission; treat 'em like your own. copy that, shadows?"

johnny snorts from next to you. "where have we heard this before?" he mumbles.

there's a resounding "yep-yep" from his men, accompanied by several nods and looks in your direction. graves pats one of the soldiers on the shoulder and looks to price.

"think you can lay out the rest, captain."

price starts down the middle row, his voice booming even over the sounds of people checking their weapons, gear, and anxiously shifting in their seats. he moves slowly, practically stalking down the length of the gunship.

"the mission is simple: konni and al-qatala have set up bases across the city. they're using gas, heavy artillery, and stolen weapons to protect themselves." price stops for a moment and lets his gaze drag over the soldiers staring back at him. "i don't think i need to remind you shadows of what konni's done to your brothers in arms. we're going to break off into strike teams - eight men - and destroy these bases. alpha team will take the nerve center in the heart of the city. you already know your assignments."

graves speaks again once price goes quiet. "the commanders are not likely going to be in any of these field bases. but, if they are, then each and every single one of you has execute authority." he announces. "first man to bag an HVT gets a reward." he adds with a smirk, earning light laughter from several of his men.

when the speeches conclude, you settle back in your seat.

alpha team includes yourself, price, graves, and five of the shadows that graves handpicked. ghost, soap, and gaz are leading the bravo team, charged with the largest and best-guarded of the field bases. the commanding chain within shadow company are leading the other groups tasked with the bases scattered around the city.

you fish your phone out of one of your vest pockets when it buzzes, reading the notification on the screen.

there's an agent in your group 11:06 am

not a shadow. special forces. 11:06 am

you frown, angling the screen back and quickly scanning the group. everyone seems to be engrossed in conversation, giving you a chance to respond.

do you have a name? 11:07 am

not yet. he's a rookie. 11:07 am

he's stationed at the base you're staying at 11:07 am

check the files. should have transferred recently. 11:08 am

thank you. 11:08 am

don't mention it. 11:09 am

you're quick to tuck your phone away again, jolting when gaz suddenly addresses you.

"texting your boyfriend, eh?" he laughs, catching everyone's attention.

soap snorts and turns to you. "since when did you start dating?"

you wave them off, sitting up again as all eyes fall on you - even ghost, who is usually horribly uninterested in gossip.

"what are you two, schoolchildren?" you ask, earning playful noises of offense. "he's just a friend. not even a close one."

you're getting yourself caught up in a lie. a shitty one, at that. all it's doing is making people more interested in who you're talking to. at this rate, you'll get caught by the end of the day.

"bullshit— no one in this job talks to a person this much if they're not special." gaz counters, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

price chuckles. "c'mon, gaz. come off it," he lightly scolds the sergeant before looking at you. "just make sure he treats you nice, yeah?" he adds, both teasing and sincere at the same time.

"he's not my— yeah, okay. i'll remember that." you concede, slumping back in your seat.

the topic is dropped not long after, leaving you to relax as people talk around you. after a couple minutes, you can feel your eyelids start to droop, reminding you of how restless last night was. the trip's going to take a while, you might as well get some sleep while you still can.

⋆⋆⋆

everything is so hot. the sun, the ground, your clothes, the air— you.

you don't have any protective gear on, your sidearm secured in your loose grip as you stumble through the ruins where a city once stood.

that's right, you think. the city was destroyed in all the fighting. reduced to nothing more than rubble. you remember when there used to be buildings here; half-toppled and abandoned, but they stood as evidence of life nonetheless.

you falter, landing on your knee and hissing as it hits the solid ground below you. your vision starts to blur as your eyes water, forcing you to rub at them with your free hand in a desperate attempt to clear them.

when you blink rapidly, trying to force back the disorientation and bleariness, you notice a figure directly ahead of you.

an ally. a friend. someone that can help.

you force yourself to your feet and stagger towards them, sucking in a hopeful breath when they start to rush to meet you. the harsh sun— fuck, it's so hot— makes you squint, preventing you from making out a face until they're already pulling you into their embrace, strong arms holding you close to their chest.

"it's okay." their voice— his voice, reassures you softly, one of his hands coming to rest on the back of your head, cradling you impossibly closer. "i took care of it, my dear. you're safe now."

hot tears streak down your cheeks, dirty with sand, dust, and ash, as you wrap your arms around his middle. you try to speak, but all that comes out is a hiccup and a pathetic sob, so you resolve to burying your face in his shoulder to muffle your cries.

you're tired. exhausted, actually. for once in this career, you want to be selfish. you want to be the protected one. fighting, losing allies, killing— it never ends.

he shushes you, but even in your state, you can tell the action is unnatural. gentleness, empathy, tender care... it isn't who he is.

you manage to lift your head enough to look at him, eyes glassy with tears.

makarov stares back at you, his callous gaze betraying the way he holds you. it makes you pause, confused, as you slowly recall why you're even here.

you were fighting konni operatives. there was a missile— no, something bigger. something that decimated the city and would have taken you along with it, had you not ducked into a shelter at the very last second. when you emerged, shaken and dazed in the aftershock, you encountered al-qatala and konni mercenaries alike.

bodies scattered in the streets, men wheezing for air despite blood displacing the oxygen in their lungs and leaking from every orifice, some still trying to fight even as they collapse in heaps of pure agony, writhing on the ground alongside their brothers in arms.

you wince when his fingers trace along the edge of your jaw, his forefinger hooking under your chin and forcing you to look into his eyes after your gaze drifts away.

"their lives mean nothing," makarov whispers, barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding against your ribcage. "not compared to you. you're better, stronger, than them. you will serve me well. you will help me usher in a new age."

he runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, slightly chapped from the dry heat. on instinct, you part your lips, and he moves his hand to cup your face before leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

it's wrong. this is wrong.

you shouldn't be here. you shouldn't be doing this.

the kiss is a distraction, keeping you occupied as his other hand falls from its spot on your hip. you don't even notice the change until a gunshot rings out, and pain equally as burning as the kiss courses through your veins.

you can't even muster a proper cry as you pull back, one of your own hands flying to the epicenter of the pain, right in the middle of your stomach. your fingers brush against the spot, and you whimper when you lift them back up to your face. dark red stains your skin, dripping down your wrist.

"i just need to fix you first. under my guidance... you will be perfect, my dear." makarov mutters, catching you and holding you up when you crumple against him. he coos at you, sympathetic yet mocking, as he scoops you up in his arms, the world around you going dark.

⋆⋆⋆

you wake up with a start, shifting to the edge of your seat as you frantically rub at your eyes. there's an ache deep in the pit of your stomach, making you press your palm against the same spot as your dream.

this time, when you look down at your hand, you see nothing. a shaky sigh escapes from you at the sight - or, rather, the lack thereof.

"y'all right?" ghost asks, eyeing you from the seat across from you.

"yeah, yeah—" you respond, shaking off the lingering effects of the dream. "we almost there?"

price comes over, having been talking with graves some feet away, and pats your shoulder in acknowledgement. "about to touch down, actually. let's go."

you disembark alongside the rest of alpha team, taking up formation with price and graves, with the few shadow company operatives behind the three of you. reaching the building isn't a difficult task despite the many mercenaries standing between it and your team; as much as you hate to admit it, the shadows are skilled in the field, even with their misgivings.

the building is another high rise, like the one you infiltrated weeks ago, half-crumpled from the effects of the fighting in the city. price leads the group as you all enter it through a sizeable hole in the wall, clearing out the first floor with trained precision.

the group of shadows form a perimeter just outside as you investigate the interior with price and graves, finding it... empty?

"thought you said this was the nerve center," you mutter, turning to the men as they search around, equally as perplexed as you. "there's nothing here."

price shakes his head, standing up from where he was crouched over some rubble. "there was something here. they must've moved."

"they knew we were comin'." graves says with a frustrated huff. "probably just protecting it to keep up the charade. the real control center could be anywhere in the city."

the two start for the exit with you in tow. "could be outside of it for all we know. we need to contact the other squads." price replies before pausing at the threshold and angling his head upwards. you stop several feet back and send him a confused look, before a low rumbling echoes throughout the building, sending dust and small debris falling from the floors above.

the rumbling stops for a second, until a louder, harsher one follows. larger pieces of wreckage start to loosen and threaten to fall, small bits clattering against the ground.

"shit, the building's too unstable— it's gonna collapse—!" price shouts as a metal beam crashes into the ground less than twenty feet away from you.

while price and graves are able to duck out amidst the falling debris, you're forced to dive backwards after a piece of the floor above falls right into your path. you search for a way around it, but as the violent shaking increases and sends more collapsing down all around you, you realize that cover might be your only option.

you scan the room quickly and dive under a pile of slabs and beams, sturdy enough to not collapse under the weight of falling wreckage, but with just enough room for you to squeeze in underneath.

it's only seconds after you find cover that the thundering sounds of heavy rubble crashing down all around you fills your ears, forcing you to cover them with your hands as each crash makes you flinch.

the worst of the destruction is short-lived. a couple minutes pass by before you're willing to move, the occasional piece of the upper floors still collapsing around you every now and then. you let out a trembling breath once you emerge, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins.

the exit. you hastily search for it, but all hope drains from you when you find it and see that it's completely blocked by the wreckage.

"petra? can you hear me?" price's voice crackles through your radio.

you go to respond, coughing harshly due to all the dirt and dust floating in the air. "i hear you— i'm all right," you tear your eyes from the exit and look for another path. it's a big building, surely you can find something. "just stuck in here." you grumble into the radio.

"we're gonna try to find another way in, see if you can meet us somewhere." he says. you can hear graves barking orders at his men in the background. "be careful." price adds in a rushed tone.

you drop your hand from your radio and clutch your gun close as you carefully traverse the field of debris, mentally thanking whatever higher power that the building only partially collapsed on top of you, instead of crushing you completely.

every movement out the corner of your eyes makes you stop and aim your weapon at it; it's highly unlikely - but not impossible - that you're not alone. anyone could've snuck in after the collapse, or hidden themselves like you did. al-qatala, konni, shepherd's men— you have a lot of enemies and very few allies in the area.

you spin around at the sound of something shifting, but only see a few pieces of wood hitting the ground. you're getting too paranoid. you try to steel yourself, breathing deeply, before a smooth voice makes you choke on the air that gets caught in your throat.

"you are very unlucky, aren't you?"

you turn again, gun drawn and finger on the trigger, but stop short upon seeing a friendly...

well, you see makarov standing across the room. it's an enemy that doesn't seem all-too interested in killing you - for now, at least.

"how did you..." you trail off, lowering your weapon.

apparently understanding your question, he vaguely motions behind himself. "there's a breach." he says, glancing over the destruction as he approaches you.

you squint at him as he draws closer, briefly tightening your grip on your gun. he stops several feet away, though, so you allow yourself to relax just a bit, lowering your weapon.

"i figured you'd be staying far away from al-mazrah, it's an active war zone after all." you comment, earning a dismissive look.

"i don't mind getting my hands dirty," makarov utters with a lofty grin tugging at his lips. "besides, we need to talk."

you cock your head to the side, curious. "and, you couldn't call or text me about this? that's been working out so far." you chuckle softly.

he steps closer again, standing a little over an arm's length away. "i happened to be close by." he responds. "this is also something better discussed in person."

you nod, hesitantly slinging your gun over your shoulder to cross your arms over your chest.

"after our last exchange, i managed to gather more information from my... source." he punctuates the last word with a half-assed attempt at a conciliatory smile. "the mole planted within your group reported to shepherd recently; he's aware of our communication." he continues, before you interrupt him.

"wait, no one knows about this, not even my squad." you assert, taking another step closer to him. you're just under an arm's length away, now.

"there was an agent within the group assigned to your care when you were captured. one of the two men that accompanied us on the first day - he listened in on our conversation and delivered the details to the general." makarov speaks in a hushed tone, one you can just barely hear over rubble crumbling somewhere nearby. "the agent on your end tracked you after you reunited with your squad. something of yours was bugged, they heard us that night."

how could he... most of your belongings were clothes, which you know for certain weren't bugged. the only other item that traveled home with you is your cellphone—

"shit," you mumble, practically tearing your vest pocket open and grabbing your phone. there's nothing obviously wrong with it at first glance, but once you pop the case off and check inside, your suspicions are confirmed.

there's a small tracking device flashing red at you, mocking you, and you rip it out before tossing it on the ground and stomping on it.

"he's heard everything," you say, twisting your boot to scatter the broken pieces. "fuck, if this gets out— i can explain this to my team and make do with the judgement, but if shepherd tells any of his friends in their cushy government positions, i'm dead."

makarov shifts, looking past you, but you don't even notice the action thanks to the adrenaline reflooding your system. "that would be an issue," he mutters, reaching for the holster at his hip. "i suppose i could protect you."

you snort, dragging your gaze from your boot to his face. "i'm not joining your side, even for this."

a thin string of red light shines from the darkness behind you, aimed at the back of your skull. makarov follows it to its source, all but ignoring your rejection, as his fingers wrap around the handle of his desert eagle.

a loud gunshot rings out, echoing against the walls. you instinctively reach for your stomach, preparing yourself for the pain you felt in that dream, body tensing up as it flies into survival mode.

the pain never comes. a heavy thump makes you turn, however, watching as a soldier collapses to the ground. unmarked uniform. one of the general’s men.

"shepherd has not earned your blood. if anyone is going to kill you, it will be me." makarov lowers his gun and meets your muddled gaze. "i suggest you reconsider my offer, petra, and give me a call when you make up your mind."

you’re left in that state as he sidesteps and saunters past you, seemingly disappearing into the darkness himself. you’re sure there’s another exit that you missed, one he’s taking to avoid running into your squad.

his offer. joining him for protection.

you'll never follow makarov or his ideals, much less join him for such a selfish reason. if you can kill shepherd, then you can destroy any evidence and get yourself out of this mess. with graves' cooperation and your team to help, that possibility is well within your reach. the only crime you'll have to answer for is severely disappointing your teammates, but they'll understand.

except, there's no guarantee that graves will help, and the rules of engagement prevent you from taking effective action against shepherd. he may be on the run, but he's an american general - killing him could land the one-four-one in hot water with the government.

that'll only lead to more restrictions, more eyes on you, more questions— there's nothing you can do to stop it.

you need someone without limits. someone the government doesn't have their hands on.

you need makarov.

a series of heavy footsteps alert you to a new presence, snapping you out of your trance. you lift your head in time to see price, graves, and the shadows appear from around a large pile of debris in the same direction that makarov originally approached you from.

"petra!" price calls out, jogging ahead of the group and stopping just in front of you. "you broken?" he asks, placing a firm hand on your shoulder and dragging his gaze across your form, searching for any injuries.

"no, i'm fine. nothing major." you mumble, struggling to find your voice all of a sudden. "just, uh..." you lose it again, your tongue darting out to nervously wet your dry lips.

"something wrong?" he murmurs, quiet enough that graves and his men can't hear from their positions farther away.

you can feel every beat of your heart, rapidly thumping against your ribs to the point of making your chest ache. only price can give you approval to do something so risky, so stupid. he'll understand. he knows the job isn't perfect, but you do what you have to do—

"i have something to confess, captain."

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[aerixfixoff]

It all started with you

Stalker!Mingi x f!reader

Authors note | hey y'all this is part 2 BAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHGAHAHAHA last part tho I made this while my phone is on 67%🙈 so uhm ha & English isn't my first language so pls stand w me now Last part🐒

Warnings: Fluff, and smut IF YOU SQIUNT VERY VERY HARD & some angst, mentions of se!lf h@rm,

Edit : IVE READED THIS FANFIC AND CORRECTED THE SPELLING MISTAKES BEAR WITH ME BRO IM A FRNEHCIE…

body dysmorphia, stalking etc

Part 2!!

💐 part 1!

Word count : 1,090😖😖

“ y/n please I’ll explain I’ll explain “ mingi had been saying that for the past 15 minutes it seems like he was under some type of spell. Mingi had been so afraid of losing you he couldn’t bear the sight to see you in pain.. 

Mingi never believed in love at first sight no no that was dumb.. until he met you, everything started with you everything. Mingi figuring he likes punk music ( because of you ) mingi starts to like black panther ( because of you ) mingi got into making music and rapping ( because of you ) every single one of mingi’s interests came from you, it all started with you..! 

Ever since that fateful day back in 7th grade mingis life took a turn. I mean yeah he got so obsessed with you that he became your stalker, fan, everything.. In the 8th grade mingi had convinced his mom to drop him at Walmart so he could accidentally run into you ( he had your location on his phone he knew where you were and who you were with.. ) He even gifted you a teddy bear with hidden cameras in the eyes for your 14th birthday ( of course you kept it where he could get a good look of your room but you never knew you just kept it on a shelf being grateful of everything and anything ) 

Mingi calmed down and explained everything & and anything that made you have unclarity or confusion ( I mean you wanted to ask how he knew you passed out but you just enjoyed the time… ) “ Y/n I’m sorry I’m sorry for this all, you know when u got invited to that party with yunho i met aeri. She was everything a regular teenage freak boy would want. She was pretty, nice body, she had friends, she was popular too. I mean any boy would want her but mingi didn’t want her no he wanted you.. all he wanted was you… but mingi knew that if he wanted you he had to change himself he thought that if he changed himself he would get a chance with you.. ( but you already loved him since you first saw him but he didn’t know.. ) 

He accepted Aeri's terms. That's when everything went downhill, for the next couple of months or weeks Wtv.. he hung out with aeri I mean aeri was nice and kind but still he wanted you. He had envy jaehyun because he had gotten to go on the vacation with you, you guys met jaehyun and soyeon in the 10th grade and clicked. Mingi and Yunho both knew that jaehyun had feelings for you.. it was clear as the blue skies only you couldn’t tell, all this time you thought jaehyun was just being nice..  

When mingi came back and the school year had started he gained popularity not just with the boys with the girls too, he had some fangirls ngl mingi had easily feeded into this lifestyle but he almost forgot why he did it in the first place.. it was for you, again it all started with you everything started with you.. When he saw you in the hallways linking arms with jaehyun he felt angry, jealous he couldn’t keep his emotions intact he wanted to hurt you, that’s why he made a bet, he made a bet on you.. the last thing he would’ve have done on planet earth

Mingi knew what effect this would have on you, you were the sensitive type, the type to get your feelings hurt way to easily. He knew everything about you, Your self harm journey, Your suicidal thoughts and feeling about yourself. Your insecurities, he knew everything about you 

more than you could ever imagine..  He had promised to protect you but he figured out he was the one keeping you in danger, that time at the court yard when jaehyun held you.. mingi swore he had seen red… and he felt that again when he saw you unconscious. 

Unconscious and your wrist.. w-w-were  bleeding.. he didn’t know how to react or feel in that moment, he was watching you through the teddy bear and rushed over as soon as he saw you on the floor.. He regretted everything he had always regretted everything he started regretting when he met aeri… 

As mingi was finished explaining, you couldn’t stop the tears that became like waterfalls as soon as he started explaining himself. Mingi was always the sensitive type but he hid it.. he thought it made him weak without knowing it made me stronger, After he finished explaining everything you held his chin in your hand everything became slow. You stared into his dark, warm, homey feeling eyes.. Then his pink soft big lips kissed you.

Everything in that moment stopped. It felt like you and him together alone without a single care in the world. The kiss started soft but then turned messy with mingi climbing on top of you and your legs wrapping around his waist. He started grinding into you softly moans escaping his lips coming into yours, you could feel the vibration and tension between you and him. You stopped him, causing him to groan out..

“ Mingi, let’s figure this out together .” You said softly to him he looked at you ( he made the freaking 🥺 face ) “ Y/n I’m sorry I’m sorry for everything I don’t wanna be friends I wanna be more than friends I’ve always liked you but I was too scared to even talk or say anything I wanted to change for you so you could see me. “ he said softly “ mingi I’ve always liked you but you never had to change my love “ my love ha that made his heart run a marathon.

He pulled you into a cuddle and you two slept off away.. 

3 months later 

After everything went down you and mingi started dating, even though soyeon was pissed and wooyoung didn’t know if he should trust his friend again they let it go and put the past behind them. Of course mingi apologized to everyone, all the kids at school saw you 2 holding hands and walking happily down the hallways, aeri tried to break you guys up but it didn’t work sooner or later she gave up tired of it all of course she was still angry I mean she did make mingi into the person he was today.. 

No aeri didn’t make mingi into the person he was today, he did and you did because again.. 

It all started with you.

[chainoftalent]

Can i umm request a yandere miu and kaede alphabet maybe? Sorry if it is a bother

Man imagine actually getting to these on time it's definitely not a year old nope, wait ive had this blog for a year? I'll just do Kaede because these are long

Yandere Kaede Alphabet

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Kaede Is SUPER affectionate, she's very clingy and cuddly. She absolutely adores sappy romantic moments as well. She is going to play the piano for you, might even try and teach your how so she can do the romantic hands over hands teaching move. Very very touchy person.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Kaede is not a very violent person but she IS very practical, she's not going to attack random people for just talking to her angel, but she won't hesitate to set a trap for the people she things are genuine problems, like people who bully them or show romantic interest, the bigger the problem, the more dangerous the trap.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

She's so very soft with them, cuddling and sweet and getting them nice things to wear and talking to them like they're just the sweetest present they've ever gotten. Then get annoyed and huffy when you're like "what the fuck?"

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

There is touching, a lot of touching, it doesn't matter if you don't want touch, she's touching you, her hand is on your butt.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Kaede wants to present herself as a reliable caring guiding figure, but she's bad at empathy and can come off as rather frustrated or huffy then she means to because this isn't going how she wanted! Might even have a few emotional outbursts.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Annoyed and frustrated, she feels like she's not being listened to or respected and she's going to get huffy. Why can't you just listen to her! Can't you tell she's just trying to help! Just calm down already! She prefers de-escalation but she will pin you down and tie you down if she must.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Definitely not a game, she's so worried about them and wants them to have a nice life with nice things. She gets so upset when they try to run, and Kaede's a bit of an angry upset kind of person. So she'll stomp her feet and yell and drag their ear and get so mad because she doesn't really get why this isn't perfect for them! They have everything! Why is it not enough! Can't you see I'm trying?! Do you have to be this difficult!

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

You are going to be sitting in for her piano practice, which might be nice at first as she's a great player but it's so LONG and you just have to SIT THERE and not do anything which isn't too bad the first few times but by the fifth you're about ready to bite through the ropes out of sheer boredom, let alone the FIFTEENTH or TWENTIETH.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

She wants a nice cute partner she can touch and tease. She wants to coddle them and keep them scooped away from the world why she provides for them. Then when she gets home she wants them to be so sweet back to her and give her feet a massage or brush her hair.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

They do get jealous, but they cope with it most of the time by just being clingier or by spreading rumors. However if they think the jealousy is rational they will lash out at that person for being a threat.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Kisses, hugs, squeezing, most of the time she's super doting but bad at listening and really intuiting what you want or need. Sometimes she gets into a bit of a Mood though and likes to scare them a bit, just to see their face quiver so sexily. She tries to make up for it though afterwards!

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Full romcom, they're doing all the romcom tropes on this person, bumping into them with papers, being caught in the rain without an umbrella, love letters, she's being so damn sappy.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

They're definitely a lot firmer and more strict in private, still kind and sweet, but they are just pushier and less likely to back off.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Loss of privileges and restraints for the most part, she's a very "think about what you did while i go cool off" kind of person

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

She would ideally just want their freedom and loyalty and some sense of control over their choices and wants, but won't fully take them away. Like she's going to let you pick what you want to eat and pick what clothes you are, but she is going to try and angle for the option she prefers or present you with a list of options she's already decided are acceptable.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

She's somewhat patient, at least able to give a few warnings before snapping. However this patience lasts like ten minutes top before she snaps and tells them to stop messing around or to hurry up already!

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If they just get away she's trying to track them down. However, if they are confirmed dead she composes the most tragic heart wrenching piano concerto of her life about lost love and then kills herself.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

A little, doubts about if this is the right thing, about why this isn't going how she thought, but she shoves it aside, clearly she's not trying hard enough!

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Loneliness mixed with an inflated sense of importance along with being somewhat spoiled. She's the golden child who always gets everything she wants, except for friends, she never could connect to other people. Which makes her clingier and makes it hard for her to take no. She's certain she's right! Never look back!

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

They feel bad but also think it's kind of hot, it's just so pretty y'know, oh! She knows just the song to play to meld with their crying in harmony!

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

I don't think she's one for like, shrines, or hoarding stuff, she would probably find it kinda weird, she's fine with just a few pictures and their schedule memorized. No need to go crazy here!

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

She wants to trust them, and she wants them happy, dig your thumbs into that.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

I don't think she'd like, break anything, but I could see her slapping them when she gets REALLY frustrated and then having a crying fit about how they made her do that.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

They don't worship their angel, but they do think they're very kind and nice and everything they've ever wanted and what will fill that hole in their chest!

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

They pine for awhile, writing love ballads, and trying to get their attention, before eventually she figures she needs to try harder.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not on purpose, but if you're the kind of person that doesn't like touch, then you're not lasting well here.

[drdemonprince]

idk if you've seen the new jessie gender vid about "transandrophobia" but it's not... awesome. youre a fellow trans dude i trust very much on this topic, so I figured i'd send it your way. https://youtu.be/oYTSxuVtR7c

it would be nice to have a succinct debunking of transandrophobia to be able to show people. ive read the autolenaphilia post, but maybe it would be cool to have something more up to date?

P.S.

congrats on the new book!

God, oof, yeah. Jessie Gender seems like a very sweet person, and she's been very open about being very sensitive to criticism and the dogpiling that she frequently experiences as a trans woman on the platform, and I don't think she should be giving so much credence to the trans men who are in her mentions complaining about trans mens' concerns being under-represented. I wish she had less of a reflexive fawn response and had the ability to tell some of her audience when she disagreed with them, because I think that's caused her a lot of stress in the past and continues to.

I really think the debunking of transandrophobia is as simple as this: androphobia isn't a thing. Misandry isn't a thing. Men are not hated or systematically excluded for being men. It's impossible for there to be an "intersection" between transphobia and misandry because misandry does not exist.

Anything that gets called transandrophobia is very transparently either transphobia, or some other prejudice such as racism or ableism, which touches the lives of many cis men as well. Trans men are not excluded from representation -- many of us have gotten massive book deals and acting roles and positions in academia in particular, and we don't get depicted as serial killers and sexual predators when we are represented the way trans women commonly are and have been for decades.

Trans women don't dominate trans spaces, and it's obvious fucking sexism to claim that they are. Trans women don't get all the resources, they just put more effort in general into creating community spaces, because women tend to do more emotional and social labor. (See also: fat men complaining that all the fat positivity spaces are made by women! MRA's complaining women didn't make a feminism just for them and men's concerns! make your own, dudes!) Trans men are men and that means most critiques of sexism are completely, obviously applicable to how they regard women, especially trans women.

I understand you want a handy authoritative text to point to here, but it already exists in the form of writing that trans women have done about the sexism they face: Whipping Girl for example being one of the most essential texts on the subject. We shouldn't need an authoritative man to say that sexism against women exists and that men need to work on our entitlement. I also think it's important that we not thoroughly argue with transandrophobia nonsense, but that we shut it down quickly and confidently as the obvious sexist bullshit that it is. This shit should get a dude laughed out of the room for being a shitty, misogynistic piss baby.

[skyland2703]

So what are we reading today? oh yes.

They're broadcasting the trial live to the ends of the galaxy. Gotta love that. This entire... concept where the entire galaxy is inter-connected and <333 and the fact that astronema has committed crimes agaisnt everyone dfhgbnfbds

One of my favorite panels EVER, i think. Should I do a redraw of this?? yes or yes?? also how is it that ive gotten an exact same haircut as her....

THEY!!!! YOUR HONOR!!!!!

i kinda wanna know who the prosecutor is and who the judges are. Are all monsters tried by this court? Would dark spectre? Or is this much like our own real legal systems where only the people like astronema, who reformed, and confessed because of conscience, are taken up for trial while the real actual murderers walk free because their crimes were either never uncovered or they have friends in high places.... :)

Another side theory, but what if, like Dekaranger, the SPD judgement scanners are a link into this court that are created later to cover the flaws of the system that I mentioned, so the criminals could be tried without having to wait for so long and/or have the risk of escape?

AND THEY DIDN'T NOTIFY ANDROS AND THE OTHERS THAT THEY WERE TAKING ASTRONEMA FOR TRIAL. i am very suspicious of this entire judicial system, yes.

Yes so now I’m reaaally curious about who the prosecutor is...

Also Leo's actor is a lawyer, i refuse to believe there is a profession more suited for this guy because OMG. CAN YOU SEE DEFENCE LAWYER!LEO???? i love him your honor~

Even commander Cruger's here wtf

This is the biggest touché I've ever seen. Legal dramas beloved

I THINK this was the smartest way to go with it. WE know that Astronema was guilty, we also know that Karone is reformed. But the Court isn't willing to believe that. It is ACTUALLY a bunch of aliens who have convinced themselves and everyone else that yes astronema is guilty. They did not inform her family/friends that they were taking her, they did NOT give her a defence lawyer, and in everyone's mind, she already IS guilty. So this trial is actually just a formality. If Andros hadn't played this little game, Karone was never walking away free. NOTHING Leo/Maya/Andros would've said in their testimony would've convinced them otherwise because they were vieing this through their own twisted kaleidoscope.

So yeah, this was really smart on Andros's part, because 1) he doesn't want to lose his sister, and 2) astronema and karone being "different people" was a point that was so hard to prove against an already biased judge and jury! SO making a physical replica of Astronema, so to prove that she was indeed different from Karone, as they had been pleading in court all this while was the only way to go about it!

Anyway SIBLING ANGSTTTTT

And i love how karone still feels guilty, because she knows she's done it all. She knows what all was going on inside her head and she HERSELF believes herself guilty. *PEAK ANGST*

Also i really like this panel <3

So yeah, basically my take is that Karone felt guilty, and I think this is what drives her to go for that self-redemption arc that Psycho-path had for her. I THINK this can be the trigger. Also i love ALLL THE ANDROS-KARONE ANGSTTTTTT like these two siblings (only in the comics) are the ones who are constantly at each other's throats, EVEN THOUGH THEY'RE JUST LOOKING OUT FOR EACH OTHER. They're handled really well and I can actually SEE the emotions they have for each other. It's better than in the show, tbh. I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR.

And in closing, have a collection of 1) KARONE ANGSTY BBGIRL

Babygirl in guilt <3 (she was going to plead guilty. i know. you know. shhh)

And 2) MAYA/KARONE MOMENTS BELOVED

*hug her hug her plzzz hug herrrr*

[skriblee-ksk]

On the morning after Lydia's birthday, Kiyuu opens the door of Ramshackle to find a bag sitting on her doorstep. Wrapped neatly and with care, she opens it to find a card, along with something hidden by tissue paper.

Dear Kiyuu,

Thank you so much for the birthday gift! I couldn't believe you guys planned me a surprise party, it was so much fun ♡ (Though I feel sorry for whoever has to clean the Lounge after the "cake fight" started...)

While it's not much, I hope you enjoy this gift. Consider it a party favor lol ♡

Your friend,

Lydia ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა

P.S - I may have... gotten some help...

After reading the card, she unwraps the tissue paper to find a handmade plushie, resembling the wolf beastman she adores. The plush was small, holding it in one hand easily. It was well-made, so many little detailed stitched on. His uniform, his ears and tail, even his face, all embroidered with care.

As she was examining the plush, she was surprised to find a small magnet in his hand, silently wondering what it was for.

Little did she know, Jack had gotten a similar plush, created to resemble Kiyuu. There was a magnet in the hand of her plush as well, allowing their two plushes to hold hands when together. There was even a plush of Grim, though it wasn't as well-made as the others, resembling more of a puffball than the tuna loving beast.

Meanwhile, at the abandoned dorm known as Ramshackle in Lydia's world...

Lydia sits on the dirty floor next to Ryuumi, doing her best with the needle in her hand. A laptop sits between them, with a video paused on the screen. The delinquent watches her in a mix of amusement and frustration, doing his best to make sure she doesn't hurt herself.

"Lyds, your hand is shaking. Give me the needle an' I'll finish it up." He says, leaning over and taking it from her hand before she could answer. He starts the video over, holding the fabric close as he squints his eyes.

"At least wear your glasses..." Lydia asks, moving to hand them to him. He immediately shakes his head, pushing her hand away.

"I got this, don't worry! I can see!" He reassures her, his eyes still squinted as he moves the fabric even closer.

He stays this way for a moment, unmoving, before reluctantly mumbling out, "... Give me the glasses." Pouting as his cheeks dusted in pink.

Kiyuu was absolutely OVERJOYED at the very least to have a detailed and adorable plush of both Jack and Grim.

She examined the magnet, trying to figure out what it could be used for (To hang it on the fridge…?? Totally unlikely!!!) when a text message arrived from Jack, mentioning a bag with a Plushie in the likeness of her arriving in front of his dorm room (which he thankfully was able to retrieve first, given how early he wakes up).

Kiyuu immediately ran over to his room, bringing the bag with her. When she arrived, Jack was already gently holding the plush of her in his hand, not knowing what exactly to do with it. She quickly took her own plushie out, excited to talk about Lydia’s handiwork and their matching gifts, when…

Aha.

What a perfect gift.

-

GIRL THIS IS SO CUTE???? THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS MESSAGE OMG I WAS READING IT AND GIGGLING!! IM GLAD LYDIA IN UNIVERSE RECIEVED A NICE SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY!! She better have won the cake fight /lh

THE PLUSHIES….. THE FACT THAT IT HAS A MAGNET SO THEY CAN HOLD HANDS…… JACKIYUU CANON EVEN IN PLUSHIE FORM…… ITS THE ONLY THING IVE EVER WANTED 🥹 I’m sure that Kiyuu will form an excessive emotional bond with it, thank you Lydia!!!!!

AND OML RYUUMI??? WHAT A GUY I LIKE HIM SM ALREADY THE DELINQUENT IS BACK!!!!!!

anyway. ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU SHEEPY!! IM GLAD YOU HAD A MOST WONDERFUL BIRTHDAY (AND THAT LYDIA DID TOO!!!) TY FOR INTRODUCING RYUUMI HERE!!! TY FOR EVERYTHING!!!!! 🫶🫶🫶🙏

[atopvisenyashill]

in anon because I'm a coward but I confess that I love the parent-child dynamic of the targaryens, and being a incestuous family already make any relationship odd.

one of your posts about Jaehaerys and his daughters being groomed made me think about other parent-child relationships that are fascinating to me, like visenya-maegor, rhaena the lesbian-aerea, viserys i-rhaenyra, viserys ii-his three children. i wish there was more info him as a father because: he was violently separated from his family, forced to marry the daughter of his kidnapper, become a father between the ages 13-16 and by 17 he is a single father.

in my delusions 🤡 he didn't want naerys to be a septa because that would mean she has to go to oldtown, and he didn't want her to leave him like larra or aegon did

i mean you have COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE lol, i think the ones that interest me the most are similar: aligon obviously lol, visnyra (always sad that tag is 90% rhaenyra and an oc lol), rhaenyra-jacaerys, maegor-visenya, jaehaerys-daughters in general, alysanne-daughters in general (god that court was crazy lol), aegon iv-daeron, viserys-naerys, naerys-daemon, and viserys-rhaella. i think what's fascinating about emotional abuse and targaryens is that a lot of emotional abuse is like,,,,, rooted in a parent forcing a child to take on a role that a child is ill suited for, usually the role of a parent or a friend. it's not that every parent-child abuse dynamic is inherently sexual, but i guess it's that emotional abuse is meant to blur the lines between boundaries, and sexual boundaries are just a subgrouping of emotional boundaries - when you add in the incest, it's like it lays bare that thread that ties emotional abuse to sexual abuse and how those things can feed off each other. did that make sense lol.

i'm also very curious about viserys ii as a parent - i think we can assume he has some level of trauma surrounding marriages because even though larra rogare dies a handful of years after returning to lys, he doesn't remarry and doesn't have more children, even knowing how frail naerys is and knowing how insane aegon is already. i think it's really intersting that he sends aegon to braavos instead of lys when he's trying to separate aegon and naerys as well. i also feel like all the poisonings he's accused of aren't likely - why wouldn't he just off aegon then, once daeron was born and lived past infancy, if he was so cool with kinslaying? we can see aegon was a problem already, and a big enough problem that viserys is trying to send him away so he doesn't rape naerys to death - speaks to both a high level of extreme sexual abuse being heaped onto poor naerys as well as a level of compassion (however sleight) shown to a woman suffering from domestic violence that is not particularly common in Westeros. and it's interesting that he's really similar to show alicent, in that he becomes a parent at a disturbingly young age, and then basically parents his kids on his own from his teenage years and onward.

i think that's a really likely and great reading of what we've gotten from viserys-naerys so far too - that he has so many attachment and abandonment issues (i mean literally though not purposefully abandoned to die by aegon and coming so close to being sold into slavery and the who knows where the hell that horror show would have taken him!) and would force naerys to marry aegon to keep her close. it's not dissimilar from visnyra - forcing her to marry a gay man, allowing her an affair, but refusing to allow her daemon specifically because he wants to be the most important man in her life and neither laenor nor harwin are a threat to that but daemon is. so viserys ii follows in his footsteps by binding naerys to aegon, and putting aemon on the kingsguard - she'll never love aegon because he's a monster, she can never openly be with aemon because he's celibate, so no one can ever usurp viserys' position as the number one man in her life.

[zeravmeta]

Super Sankta 2 Exu sounds like an excellent idea Zerav. For maximum meme, she's a John Wick style Guard- just uses guns to bash in people's skulls.

Super Sankta 2 Exu whose going John Wick style on people is funny but my concept for Exia Alter was always based on like, the concept that Skadi Alter first introduced that we all thought at the time was gonna be the standard fare for alters

My Ultimate Sankta vs Exia 3 concept was based around the idea of a "Bad End" Exia the way Skadi Alter is, where Exia would be further mechanized ala Executor and become an emotionless seraphim-type unit who would essentially be the ultimate Sankta weapon. This would happen as the result of Laterano having some kind of big event that would cause them to pull all remaining Sankta from all corners of Terra for their promised day of ascension where they would leave Terra and all its problems behind, with certain Sankta (Like Exia) essentially being the vanguards and protectors of these people (I essentially just took the idea of the Rapture and assigned it to the Sankta), with the event concept in question being Penguin Logistics invading this holy land to save their girl.

So like. you can imagine how hard ive been popping off with all the new lore reveals we've gotten over the past 2 years. That said, this concept is a little outdated, and just leaving it at that would be no fun

So here's my pitch for how Exia Alter 4: The Quest For Peace would go with modern foresight (added read more because reasons)

The Popes basement computer in Zwillingsturme just let out a directive that they need to gather their best Sankta to fight against the end of the world. This is in conjunction with the last few events squarely tying together Iberia's Seaborn plotline with both Laterano and Siracusa and their dividing faiths. Now, all of this is in conjunction with the hints we've been getting that Penguin Logistics is going to split up (Lappland and Mostima have already flown the coop, and currently the rest are in Siracusa helping Texas the Amogus, but that will likely not last especially bc Exia's own anniversary line all but majorly hints at this split happening because they all got different stuff going on)

If Penguin Logistics splits, Exia will well and truly be left without a support system.

Now, Exia has always been kind of off as far as Sankta go, because for all intents and purposes she shouldn't be out of place: We see just how Sankta tend to act in Guide Ahead, and Exia didn't really seem all that different. Yet, when we look at her history and actions (she was basically kicked out, she was super accident prone which made other Sankta hate her, as part of Penguin Logistics shes constantly drunk, Texas herself says that Exia being an optimist makes her different, etc), she's actually Really different.

Almost like she has an abnormality compared to other Sankta. Me and a few others (check out @annierosaart post here) have speculated on her being different, but we also don't really know WHY: Even if she was suddenly disconnected from the Sankta empathy powers, we don't see any indication of how, and unlike Ezell we don't have any sort of 'wake-up' moment for her.

But given the weirdness about her and her lines, I think I know what the exact nature of her abnormality may be (and heres my pitch) when looking at the most relevant characters who have abnormalities, namely Executor and Arturia, because I think she falls in line with them (shameless plug to my old exia/executor buddies post):

Executor's abnormality is that his emotions are incredibly muted compared to others. He isn't heartless or emotionless, but more that his heart and mind runs on rationale and logic first and foremost, which almost disqualified him from being canonized had he also not been Laternos single most competent man because saint fedex is entirely disconnected from caring about petty things like being racist.

Arturia's abnormality is that she is receptively empathetic to the point she has nothing within her. She can remove the inhibitions of people, and this is in service to understanding them, because she lacks an understanding of herself: She has a grand dream of an empathy for the world even beyond the Sankta Empathy power, and to accomplish this she draws out the emotions that people hide. As a result, she reflects the emotions of others within herself and thus is incredibly empathetic to the point she's also lacking in emotions and a self.

Exia? I think that her abnormality is that she's too emotional, that the emotions she feels are far more amplified compared to others.

I believe this for a couple of reasons: All the weirdness surrounding her aside, whats the one thing that's always defined Exia? Her Rapid Casting EX. It's always been memed about, but simply firing a single bullet from a gun is akin to casting an Arts attack, with guns serving as a type of wand in these cases. Exia is the only character within the series whose been noted to be so fast with her arts and casting.

This post here does a phenomenal job expanding on this point, but Arts are an expression of the soul, they're influenced by emotions and become stronger with them because they are ultimately expressions of the self, which all characters in and of themselves having a "unique" arts inherent to them. Hell, all of Leithaniens arts are based around using musical expression, while Sarkaz are noted for their arts based on souls and memory, with the literal main heroine of Arknights having an empathy based arts superpower.

Exia, having Super Emotion as her Sankta halo abnormality, could explain why shes so good at gun, even without Oripathy, because said emotions are boosting her casting ability. Remember, anyone can use originum arts, it's just that oripathy is needed for them to be able to do it without a casting device.

This heightened emotion could also possibly explain her crush on Mostima, and even why Mostima is so weird/cruel about her: Mostima was simply a childhood friend alongside her and her sister, and yet when she left for Lungmen, Exia was hot on her trails and then waited 4 YEARS to be beside her and meet her again. She joined Penguin Logistics specifically because of Mostima. It's incredibly likely that Exia might have just had a small crush on her that then spiraled heavily because of this, and Mostima (with her chronic backstory-itis letting her find out that the whole Sankta and halo thing is a scam from her op files and events) might even be aware of this aspect of Exia, and may have wanted her to get over it, always leaving to try and make Exia move on but also always coming back because she needs to look after Exia. After all, if Exia had heightened extreme emotions, what are the chances she could die of grief? She already gets drunks regularly, and despite being cheerful and optimistic, Exia is wearing a mask hiding an incredibly depressed individual.

It could also be possible that the reason why Exia never noticed this is because while it doesn't let other Sankta feel her emotions, she can still feel that of others. She's always confused as to why back in Laterano people always accused her of being disingenuous, because can't they feel her emotions? Well, if she has Super Emotions, it could potentially be overloading her halo, so while she can receive signals, they can't be felt by others. Moreover, this mechanical aspect blends in well with her E2 art, where she is the single operator in the game without an animal/living motiff

Even other Sankta have birds and/or human statues and robotic elements (funnily enough, Executor Sniper only has crosses but even then he is clearly being themed as specifically an angel), but Exia? She has her guns, becoming wings as a ring forms with them. She's literally ascending while her wings become darker.

So what does all this mean?

Well, the Pope's basement bonzi buddy just sent out a directive for the Pope to gather the best Sankta to fight against the end of the world, and who else to recruit but a vulnerable, lonely Sankta who was kicked out for being TOO destructive? Exia's profile does make mention that despite appearances, she is also incredibly pious just like other Sankta, and if the Pope himself came knocking, wanting to give Exia a place back in Laterano, and in a high ranking, respected position no less?

She would jump at the chance, not only to be beside her sister (and possibly Mostima), but also to be accepted back into Laterano society.

Executors own halo has a mechanized element to it, where he also gains more parts to it when he goes from normalest man to saint fedex, so he likely underwent some kind of modification to go along with his promotion, especially because he also now carries an Nier Automata companion cube with him straight from the machine

If Exia is to be canonized, she might be adjusted in a similar way by The Law.

She might even be fully altered into becoming Laterano's perfect weapon to fight against the end of the world. The Witch King himself describes this approaching threat as a void of infinite knowledge which seeks to eliminate them, an unshakeable truth of existence that drives people insane.

The Creator must perish.

What better weapon to fight against such a thing than one who feels her own emotions so strongly she cannot be swayed? Or better yet, an equally as unshakeable, emotionless machine?

[alfredojesta]

hc stuff ... or au rewrite stuff ?!

nathan's powers are temporary ghost magic. same things crystal could do but limited. he can phase through stuff. just disappear and reappear, and hes good at sensing spirits around him. he can also communicate with ghosts hence why hes a medium

i think when his powers activate, his eyes have a purple glow bc i Always liked that idea HAHA (and i associate crystal with the colour purple)

candy pop gave nathan his powers—indirectly. basically, crystal requested that candy pop fuse her soul with nathan's, so that she could finally rest, no longer be a roaming spirit. and nathan could learn how to fend for himself.

crystal died when they were both 11. she was always stuck as an 11 yr old following nathan around as he grew up, being a protector for him. nathan was dependent on her, and also couldn't get over the fact she was dead in the first place. having her as a spirit only deteriorated his health, as he kept believing she was still alive.

the fact nathan got to grow up and crystal lost her life so soon is tragic bc theyre IDENTICAL TWINS and nathan looks at himself in the mirror sometimes and he just sees crystal. or... what COULD have been crystal. if only she had the opportunity to grow up.

candy pop and nathan are bestfriends, but also, candy pop watched him grow up to be the person he is today. their bond is as familial as it is friendly. i imagine nathan has a difficult time, at first, coming to terms with candy pop helping him. nathan wants to be independent, not rely on the help of a stupid fairy. but he js can't deny the fact candy pop has gotten him through so much.

nathan's emotions sometimes get the better of him, and he regrets it later on. he thinks he can just take it out on candy pop sometimes since candy pop is sort of a doormat, and really just wants to be there for nathan.

ive been imagining the nathan and candy pop argument scene to go like this but im too lazy to write it at the moment, so here's a skeleton of it:

candy pop comes to his Really Shitty Abandoned Home and nathan's mad or smth and candy pop's like "hi ^_^ here's some food" But then nathan verbally attacks him asking him "why do you keep coming back???" "why do you treat me as if i'm weak???" "i don't need your fucking help jester" and then candy pop's like "wha! wait... calm down :o" and nathan laughs at him (he RARELY ever smiles or laughs)

hes like "yeah. okay. okay fine i'm calm then i'm calm" and then he punches candy pop and candy pop reacts by taking a step back and then nathan tries to choke him out, going on about how he wants candy pop to LEAVE and never fucking come back but candy pop kicks him off and pulls out his hammer

candy pops reaction is out of instinct . but as he looks out, nathans on the floor and hes just breaking down, yelling at candy pop and telling him to just fucking kill him already because theres no point to living anymore. But Candy Pop can't do it. so he just Lowers the hammer and tells nathan that there IS a point to living. he reminds nathan of his sister. he reminds nathan of how far he's come, and how things will get better, if only he puts in the effort. and then he's like "I will never come back here ever again." <- leaving on his own terms

he thanks nathan for being his friend... gives him some more words of encouragement... but when candy pop leaves and nathan is getting his shit tgthr hes constantly muttering to himself about how candy pop wasnt a friend and how he actually hated his dumbass fairy guts... (he's lying to himself) (he's coping)

afterwards, nathan grows up on his own. he's living in scotland at this point and he meets ciara :) they're together only for... three years? they train together, talk together, and they fall deeply in love hehe... that's until nathan has to relocate because he got a job as an assassin and couldn't stay in one place for too long. they're still keeping in contact with each other. long distance style relationship, although ciara is super bitter about it... so's nathan but at that moment it's for the better.

when candy pop and nathan reunite it's when nathan moved to london. nathan spots candy pop first, initiates an interaction. apologises. updates him on his life and just thanks candy pop. hes like "sorry i wouldnt have been alive without your help ;-; i missed you—" "YOU MISSED MEEEE?!?!?!" "WHAT" and then candy pop hugs him and all is forgiven because that's his child Right there. ALSO NATHAN TELLS HIM ABT CIARA HES LIKE "yeah theres this really hot girl who was talking about a blue jester tha killed her brother pretty sure thats u" "OH!"

(I FORGOT TO MENTION CANDY POP ACCIDENTALLY KILLED KIRAN IN MY AU LOL) (more on that in another post)

[somber-sapphic]

HIII IT'S ME OMG IM SO EXCITED COULD YOU POST THE NEW FIC ALL IN ONE PART??? CUZ I CAN'T WAIT TO READ IT EEEHHEHEH I LOVE LONG FICS ALSO IM KINDA NEW TO TUMBLR SO IDK HOW TO USE A LOT OF FEATURES AND THE ONLY WAY IVE FOUND TO MESSAGE PPL IS THE REQUEST PART LOL - 🦊

I'VE GOT YOU 🦊!! Sorry it took so long to upload, I thought of something else so I added and then had to edit that part :) I hope you enjoy!

Everything's Just Fine

You get sick and Emily is away with the team on a case. You were frustrated that you weren't able to help, so instead of resting you decided to do all of the paperwork that you could find. A great decision, right?

Word Count: 3k

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You sniffled and rubbed your bleary eyes, trying to focus on the pile of paperwork you were trying desperately to get through. Hotch had deemed you ‘too sick’ to go with them on the case, but he wasn’t there, leaving you to your own devices. You’d helped solve it by working through Garcia, who you had threatened into silence (in reality, you’d begged her to let you help and flashed the best puppy dog eyes you had) and your team would be home in three hours. 

Penelope had agreed to stay silent, but only if you drank the gallons of tea she shoved down your throat. You were sure that she’d laced it with some sort of medication, so you just pretended to drink. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her attempts to coddle you, it was just that you didn’t want her to see you so vulnerable. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, it was embarrassing. 

Your nose was running practically nonstop, your chest ached, you couldn’t stop shivering and every five seconds was filled with painful coughs or gross, wet sneezes. Every cough and sneeze tore through your already sore throat, making it feel like you had swallowed glass. The pressure in your sinuses made it feel like your head was about to burst. There was a good chance that the next fit of coughing would send your brain exploding out of your buzzing ears. 

“Sweetie, that really doesn't sound good.” Penelope said, startling you after a particularly rough coughing fit that brought up a wad of mucus and left you seeing stars. You swallowed hard, a little disgusted with yourself, and forced a little smile onto your dry, cracked lips. Judging by her raised eyebrow, she didn’t believe whatever you were about to say next. 

“I’m fine Garcia, just a little cold. Plus, they’ll be back soon.” You rasped, not realizing just how far gone your voice was until you had started to speak. It was a minor miracle that you had even gotten those two sentences out. You sniffed hard and coughed, turning your head into your elbow to avoid spreading your germs all over the innocent tech analyst. 

“Uh-uh, no way. Come on, come lay in my office for a little while. I’ve got everything nice and cozy for when Reid has a migraine, it’ll be much nicer than sitting out here in the cold.” The blonde coaxed, her voice like butter. She was lulling you into a false sense of security, smiling kindly and offering you a space in her Batcave. 

All you wanted to do was curl up and let out all of your stupid pent up emotions, you wanted to cry into the plethora of pillows that you knew she had and just fall asleep to escape all of the pain raging through your body. Every movement sent needles of agony through your bones, even your eyes hurt. You had forgotten that fevers could do that to a person. 

“I’m almost done here, I’ll put my head down when I finish.” You ducked into your elbow with a barely stifled sneeze and lifted your head with flushed cheeks. This whole thing was humiliating, no one was supposed to see you sick. You weren’t supposed to be sick. You were a fucking FBI agent, FBI agent’s didn’t succumb to simple colds.

Penelope frowned and reached out to touch your cheek, rolling her eyes slightly when you slapped her hand away. 

“I’m telling Emily. How do you think she’ll feel about all of this?” She gestured to your sickly appearance as if she hadn’t just threatened you as one would a toddler. You clenched your jaw, but parted your lips when you realized that your nose was too stuffed to breathe, and decided to just glare at her instead. 

“Penelope Garcia. I am not a toddler, you are not my mother, you are not my girlfriend and my physical wellbeing is none of your fucking business. Leave. Me. Alone.” The hurt expression that flashed across her face made you feel guilty, but you just wanted her to go away. Everything about this was wrong, her being able to see you at your weakest point was ever worse. 

“Alright, I’m going back to my office. Come find me if you need anything.” She murmured, bowing her head in understanding. You looked away, resurfacing to meet her gaze, you knew that if she said one more nice thing you’d probably break down. It would be so easy to just start crying. Or it would be if you had enough fluids left in your body to cry out.  

Sniffling back tears you went back to your work, the words blurring through your tears and the general haze that came from what had to be a fever over 102 degrees. You could practically see the look on Emily’s face when she’d come back, the disappointment and concern written in the worry lines across her forehead. She worried too much, especially about you. 

You scribbled your name at the bottom of the page inquiring about who was interrogated, accidentally scrawling your signature into the place where Hotch was supposed to sign. That was it. You were done. That was the straw that broke the exhausted, sick, miserable camel's back. You were absolutely done.

==

You stumbled up the stairs and into the first office you could find, intending to fall onto the couch where you would sleep until your girlfriend got home. She would be so disappointed in you. You made it halfway into what you assumed in your hazy mind was JJ’s office before falling to the floor, too dizzy to stay upright anymore. 

Part of you thought to call out for Garcia as you lay on the uncomfortable tile, your cheek pressed on the rug. The world went black with one final gasping cough as you slipped into unconsciousness. That was nicer than being awake with the pain. 

Unfortunately, unconsciousness was not exactly better. It was uncomfortable, too hot, sometimes too cold, like someone had dunked you in an ice bath which was then set on fire. Your disturbing, terrifying fever dreams were interrupted by a distant sound and the feather light touch of a hand on your shoulder. Both felt a mile away, but they saved you from the nightmares of being drowned in an icy ocean with no one to hear your screams. 

“Y/n! Fuck, EMLIY! Get in here!” You clung to the voice, whimpering as you struggled to pull yourself out of the void. She must’ve noticed your struggle because the owner of the voice combed fingers through your hair, coaxing you into the real world. 

“Hey, hey you. Can you open your eyes?” Sudden panic flooded over you and you shoved yourself away, ignoring the stars brewing in your eyes. For a moment you were pretty sure that you’d throw up, but you managed to curl yourself into the corner, cowering away from the touch. 

Your breaths were harsh and painful, they probably sounded that way to the blonde as well. The world was blurring around you and standing wasn’t probably the best idea, but you were already halfway to your feet. 

“Woah, Y/n,” JJ rushed toward you, raising her arms as you swayed, prepared to catch you. You pulled away again, trying to force out some semblance of words. 

“Go!” You yelped, tears filling your eyes. Everything was spinning, the woman’s face warping and bending in your vision. Something slammed and you looked up to find another blurry faced woman rushing into the room, wearing the same expression. 

“Y/L/N!” The second woman, Emily, barked, making you freeze. In different circumstances that tone would’ve sparked a flutter in your chest, but this was just scary. She raced to your side and grabbed your elbows, managing to keep you upright. You sniffled and met her chocolate brown eyes, searching for anything that could be construed as anger or unhappiness. All you saw was loving concern. 

“Shit, you’re burning up. Honey, why?” The brunette breathed, cupping your cheeks with strong, soft hands. You whimpered in response, doing everything you could not to just fall into her arms. 

“C-can you make t-the room stop s-spinning?” You managed, stumbling forward until your head bounced against her shoulder. Emily wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you over to the couch, murmuring gentle words that you couldn’t quite make out. Everything was fuzzy, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stay conscious. 

You didn’t realize you were crying until you were sitting up against her and she was brushing the tears off of your cheeks. You didn’t fully understand what was happening, but you knew that she was holding you, providing you with the love that you had so desperately needed. 

“Morgan, we’re going to need some help getting her to the car.” Emily murmured, stroking your hair as you leaned against her chest. Part of you was a bit concerned, the deal was no displays of romantic affection at work and here she was, holding you close, cuddling you like she would at home. This was bad. You were going to get fired. 

You pushed her away, little whimpers building in your throat. You slid back onto the floor, confusion and anxiety flowing through your mind. She was by your side in an instant, grabbing your hands as she tried to fix whatever was happening in your mind. 

“No, no no. No, They’ll be mad. They’ll be so mad.” You shook your head and pulled back, a harsh cough wracking your body. Your lungs were beginning to sound like crinkling wax paper, worrying everyone. 

“Come on honey, please get off the floor. No ones mad, we just want to help.” She soothed, inching back so as not to startle you further. Not even you understood the back and forth of your mind, it was scary just how many things were happening and all you wanted was to be somewhere dark and quiet. 

“Everything hurts…make it stop, please make it stop.” You begged, covering your ears, hiding from everything. It was odd, you were just so damn overwhelmed. 

“Okay sweetie, alright. Breathe for me. It’s all going to be okay. Does it hurt when I do this?” She asked gently, probing at your arm. You had apparently bruised it when you’d fallen and it had quickly turned a dark purplish black color. You nodded slightly, removing yourself from your shell so that you could talk to her. 

“We’re going to get you home and all cozy, but you’ve got to trust me. Will you let me?” Morgan and Hotch were in the room now, with Rossi hovering in the doorway. Penelope was attached to Morgan's arm, a panicked expression on her face. This was all because of you. It was both humiliating beyond belief and…almost wholesome? 

“M’kay.” You finally whispered, your voice basically gone at this point. She gave you a small, caring smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Can Morgan carry you?” You were too tired to even consider fighting it. You wanted to be home and if that's what it took, that's what it took. Emily moved to the side and the man stepped forward, nearly blocking your view of her. 

“Don’t leave me!” You yelped, grabbing for her hand. You refused to be away from her, no fucking way would she leave you alone again, it wasn’t happening. She clasped your fingers in hers and shushed you softly. 

“I’m right here, he’s just going to pick you up and everything will be okay.” She was being so understanding, so wonderful. You loved her so damn much. You nodded again and allowed Morgan to hoist you into a bridal carry, your head falling on his chest; you were just too physically weak to hold it up anymore. 

“Shit, Princess, your fever’s really high. Emily, you’ve gotta get that down.” He said, concern radiating in his words. She nodded quickly, still holding onto your hand. You glanced at Hotch as Morgan carried you out, disappointment shining in his eyes. Garcia looked mildly betrayed and you hated that you’d made her feel that way. You opened your mouth to say something, but she shut you up with a shake of her head. 

“Just get better, lovely. I’ll be by with some soup and Disney movies tomorrow.” You smiled at her, your eyes slipping closed as exhaustion took over. You heard a murmur of ‘goodbyes’ and ‘feel better soons’ as you were whisked away by your friend and girlfriend, falling asleep with your head bouncing against Morgan’s chest. 

==

When you woke up you were laying in your own bed, Emily grumbling softly as she tried to peel the sweat covered clothes off of your body. You whined softly at the touch, curling away from her icy hands. You sniffled thickly and pulled your knees to your chest, well aware that you were no longer wearing a shirt. 

“Look who's up.” The brunette cooed, reaching up to stroke your fevered cheek. You squirmed again, utterly unhappy with how much being touched hurt you. All you wanted was cuddles from the woman you loved but her gentle touch caused you so much pain. 

“My skin hurts.” You rasped, giving her a watery pout. Tears were rolling down your cheeks again, for what felt like the 10th time that day you were crying. You hated it, you hated your damn body and you wanted a hug. 

“Okay love, we can get that taken care of. If you sit up for me I can get some medicine in you and get something much more comfortable on.” She smiled, tucking a strand of hair back behind your ear. You shrugged, fully intending not to do anything. She rolled her eyes at your uncooperative behavior and lifted you into a sitting position, making you yelp in pain. She reared back at your pained sound, concern flooding her expression. 

“I can’t it, it hurts too much!” You sobbed, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them to your chest. You held that position for probably fifteen minutes until you finally managed to cry yourself out and looked back up at Emily who had a broken expression on her face. 

“How do I help?” She whispered, sounding as desperate as you felt. Your beautiful strong girlfriend was breaking just because you felt sick. You took a shaky, chest squeezing breath and forced yourself to calm down. 

“Um…will y-you help me change…and then maybe hold me?” The profiler gave you a kind smile and nodded, reaching out to stroke your cheek again. This time it didn’t hurt so much, the contact actually felt quite nice. 

It took a bit longer than either of you expected to get you changed, you were practically incapable of moving any of your limbs, meaning that she had to do all of the work. She did it without complaint, checking in every few moments to make sure that she wasn’t hurting you. 

“Okay baby, take this really fast and we’ll get you some sleep.” You didn’t fight when she handed you the cap of blue medicine, well aware that the Nyquil and fever would take you out in minutes. The goop tasted absolutely awful, so bad that even with your poor sense of taste and smell it burned the back of your throat. 

You coughed heavily into your blanket, a sound which made Emily’s face contort in worry. She patted your back as you hacked, helping you to release some of the mucus from your lungs. 

“We’re going to the doctor tomorrow if that doesn’t sound better.” She determined after a few minutes of listening to your exhaustive breathing. You nodded in agreement, well aware that the cough was worse than it should be for a simple cold or mild flu. 

“Stay with me until I fall asleep?” You asked, your body sagging as the medication sunk in. Emily slipped into the bed beside you, sitting a few feet away so as not to invade your personal space in a way that you weren't comfortable with. You hesitated a moment and looked over, feeling suddenly shy. 

“Um…will you hold me? Maybe? P-please…” She smiled kindly and pulled you into her arms, cradling your head against her chest as the two of you snuggled under the covers. You stifled a sneeze, but she just made a worried sound and kissed the top of your head 

“Don’t worry about that. Just sleep, okay? I’m right here, you’re safe. I’ve got you.” You sniffled quietly and grabbed the fabric of her shirt, grateful for her saying that. Fevers always made you edgy, but she had this way of fixing it every single time. She was your rock. She never failed to make you feel better, even at your worst times. 

“Love you Em.” You mumbled, your words slurred by sleep. 

“I love you too Y/n/n. Now hush, sleeping time.” Never one to disobey an order from your girlfriend, you closed your eyes, falling into a warm void of unconsciousness in the arms of the woman you were in love with.