#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

[infizero]

just realized entire cast of infinity train has MAJOR arospec swag im so fucking elated by this realization

[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."

taglist: @sofasoap, @roosterr, @rohansregret, @lonesome-doves, @thorrsexual, @miss-nob0dy, @woodeelf, @fbs-fc-ur-mommy, @soap-mactavish, @itsyellow, @johfaam0, @cumbermovels, @chxe-zdechnac, @imagineswritersblog, @emorgz33, @sparda-ly, @ponyboys-sunsets, @frazie99, @chensipstea, @thriving-n-jiving, @preciouslittlecreature, @infinitewhore, @jade-jax

⋆ feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist! (18+ only please <3)

[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.

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Rise : Chapter Ten

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 2.5k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER NINE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER ELEVEN

79 days since the world ended

            It’s been roughly a month since you & the others left the lake house behind in wake of Rafe’s invasion. The gas inn Sayyed’s tank got the four of you nearly two hours north before it became low. There was still a can of gas left in the trailer, but it would be necessary to go out & scavenge more to keep his wrangler working. Fortunately, when Sayyed pulled off the main highway, easily maneuvering around abandoned cars, he happened to pull off near a cabin. It could be seen from the road, but only if one was looking hard to see it through the trees. It would be your new home if those even existed anymore.

            The group dynamic between the four of you changed drastically. Though you didn’t feel the need to prove yourself, your warning about Rafe’s plans gave the group enough time to get away, far away. And so Nuha & Sayyed were as warm towards you as Bear had been. You were wary of their change in attitude early on but soon enough thought nothing of it as the four of you lived with one another for the next month.

            On this day, it was especially warm. Sayyed guessed it was mid-July or so, which meant that the summer heat of the south had yet to peak. The days would only get hotter.

            You were down by a pond that was a five minute walk away from the cabin. Bear was out scavenging & you were waiting by the pond for him to return. The sun was just above the trees so he would be back any minute. Unlike the lakehouse, scavenging took longer here. Your cabin was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, despite direct access to a major road. Most scavenging days required a stay overnight in the woods. But scavenging was more essential than ever.

            Food & water was low, dangerously so. What you guys managed to take from the lakehouse only lasted so long, & the garden at the cabin hadn’t yet begun to produce anything. Everyone was on edge, & looking it. Nuha & Sayyed, who were already slim, were skinnier. You could see it in Sayyed’s face: his sunken cheeks, the clothes he wore hanging more loosely off him. And Nuha, you hadn’t realized how bad she had gotten until you two washed together the other week. When she took her top off you could see her ribcage, & her collarbone was especially more prominent than before. You had been losing weight too, but you still looked healthy as could be. You hoped Bear found something significant.

            “_____.” You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of your name. It was Sayyed.

            “It’s Nuha. I’m getting worried about her.” You swallowed nervously at his words. Of course he would notice her state, too.

            “Whatever Bear brings back we’ll give her.” You told him, “She needs it more than us.”

            Sayyed sat beside you, staring into the pond water, “What if it isn’t enough?”

            You knew where his thoughts & concerns were heading. You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Can’t think like that Sayyed. She’s strong. She’ll pull through.”

            “I hope you’re right.” Sayyed replied softly.

            The two of you sat there in silence for some time until you hear the nearby brush moving. A few seconds later, Bear appeared. By looks of it, he was carrying something heavy, but there was a relieved smile on his face. You shot up & took off for him, Sayyed was hot on your heels.

            “Finally brought something good.” Bear shared as Sayyed took the heavy duty bag from him. Sayyed placed it on the ground & unzipped it. Inside was a health-nut’s pantry. Liquid IV’s, sport drinks, multivitamins. The three of you shared wide grins.

            “This is amazing, Bear!” You rejoiced, hugging him.

            Sayyed gathered two bottles of the sport drinks, a handful of the liquid IV’s, & a bottle of multivitamins, “Thanks, Bear. I gotta get these to Nuha.”

            Sayyed took off back towards the cabin, & you helped Bear carry the rest of the stuff back inside.

            “We really needed this, Bear.”

          �� “Better yet.” He started as you handed him items to place into a cupboard, “There’s more where this came from. Whoever lived there was stocked on nutritional shit. I can go back, but it’d be easier if you came with, ya know, a second pair of hands & all.”

            You nodded in agreement, “Yeah, we’ll go the day after tomorrow.”

            With Bear’s lucky find, your future at the cabin looked hopeful.

            But hope was a silly thing to cling to.

            Nuha plummeted overnight. You woke in a panic when Bear shook you awake. You followed him to the second floor. Inside one of the bedrooms, Sayyed was at Nuha’s bedside, helping her to drink some more water.

            “What’s wrong?” You rushed out as you looked at Nuha. Your heart fell. She looked bad. Her normally shiny skin had turned ashen & was beginning to gray. Her hair was a matted mess on her head & there were beads of sweat dotting her hairline. Her lips were chapped & peeling.

            “Bear…” You glanced at him warily, “Does she…”

            “She doesn’t.” Sayyed cut you off, “It’s not any of those symptoms. She’s dehydrated and malnourished. And this fucking heat isn’t helping.”

            You bit your lip, not wanting to point out to Sayyed how deathly she looked. Her eyes were closed & her breathing was shallow. You were unsure if she was sleeping, or even aware of the conversation happening around her.

            “What else can we do?” Bear questioned, “Everything I got today is gonna help, it just might take some time.”

            “She doesn’t have time.” Sayyed forced out, his voice strained as he placed a damp cloth on her forehead. “I can keep forcing her drink the liquid IV’s & to take the vitamins but…”

            It was too late…

            But was it?

            You glanced from Sayyed to Bear, gesturing to the hallway. Bear frowned at you but followed you out. He closed the door quietly behind him.

            “What is it?”

            “There’s another option.” Your voice shook as you even dared to think about it, “It’d take longer but it’s our best chance. Nuha’s best chance.”

            Bear said nothing, waiting for you to continue.

            You licked your lips, fearful of his reaction to your suggestion, “Adrianna. When we left base, Tobias loaded us up on basic medical care shit. Real IV’s. With hook-ups & everything. Adrianna has all of it.”

            “_____...” Bear lowered his head, knowing exactly where you were heading.

            “Just hear me out.” You stopped him before he could deter you, “We leave tonight. You go back to the health nut’s house, I’ll backtrack. Find them.”

            “Find Rafe?” Bear shook his head, “No, no. That’s a shitty idea.”

            “Not Rafe, Adrianna. We need her. Nuha needs her.”

            “It’d take you days to get back there, _____. Not hours, days.”

            “I know.” You nodded, “But I won’t stop. Not even for a brief water break. I’ll just keep running until I get there.”

            “Look, under other circumstances, I’d support it. But Rafe is unhinged. It’s been a month since we saw them, they could be long gone by now. It’d be a wasted effort.”

            “No.” You shook your head. Rafe wouldn’t leave the lakehouse with all that it had. Everything you guys needed would be there, & he wouldn’t pack everything up just to move again. You felt strongly on the fact that they would still be there. “They’ll be there.”

            “And how do you know that?”

            Because he said I could find him. But you didn’t say anything, “I just know him. And, if it’s me who goes, he may let me take Adrianna.”

            Bear shook his head, leaning against the wall to contemplate your words, “And if he doesn’t? Then we lose you & Nuha.”

            “Just trust me, Bear.”

            “I do. What I’m saying is I don’t trust him.” Bear frowned, “He’s a liar, _____. A murderer. Who knows how far gone he is now.”

            “We have to try.” Your voice cracked as you tried to keep it low, “We have to.”

            Bear stared hard at you, his lips pursed. Then he shook his head, “Okay. We’ll go. You head for them, I’ll go back to the house, see what else I can find.”

            “Thank you, Bear!” You hugged him & he returned it half-heartedly.

            “But we don’t tell Sayyed.”

            What?

            “You & I both know he won’t let you leave if he knows you’re going to Rafe. It’s best we just tell him you’re coming with me to the health nut house.”

            You didn’t want to lie to Sayyed, but Bear was right. Sayyed would never take a risk that involved Rafe.

            “Go get packed. I’ll let him know what we’re doing.”

            Taking Bear’s advice, you leaped down the stairs to head to your bedroom. You quickly changed out of your loose fitting pj’s & into an outfit that would be fit for the couple day hike back tracking. Once you were all changed, you went into the kitchen to stock up on a few water bottles, the little snack foods you all had, & a couple items from a med kit.

            Bear joined you in the kitchen shortly after in a change of clothes & his own gear.

            “Got everything you’re gonna need?”

            “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

            As you too finished gathering your things together, Bear led the way out. You two walked alongside one another towards the pond where you two would split off.

            “What’d Sayyed say?”

            Bear shrugged, “Not much. He’s scared. But he didn’t argue. Just said to be fast.”

            You nodded, “And what are you going to tell him when you return tomorrow night without me?”

            Bear gave a half-hearted laugh, “Hadn’t thought that far ahead but don’t worry about it. Just get Adrianna back here, without Rafe.” 

            You winced internally. You knew better than to think you could bring Adrianna back & only Adrianna. But Rafe did have a soft spot for you. Hopefully he’d let you two go. Alone.

            “Be safe, Bear.” You turned to him. Bear ruffled the hair at the top of your head, “You, too. And if you’re not back by the time you should be…”

            “Don’t come looking for me.” You told him.

            Bear said nothing but you saw it in his eyes. He wouldn’t. He too wouldn’t risk bringing Rafe to where you all escaped to.

            “We’ll see you soon.”

            “Yeah.”

            Hugging once more, you split off. Bear heading west, & you south.

            A full moon hung over the woods as you stared into the dark depths of them. There was no going back, you reminded yourself. Nuha needed Adrianna. And you wouldn’t stop until you got to her. Rafe be damned.

            Your body was aching, desperate to take a break, but you pushed forward. Time you had little of & there was a lot of backtracking to do. You were glad you have kept track of your movements with a map, sure that you were heading towards the lakehouse. The escape from it by car had been roughly two hours, but on foot, it’d take you over a day. The only time you would stop would be to sleep for a couple hours, then you’d be taking off again.

            But ultimately, the trek was easy, if not tiring & stressful. You didn’t have time to think of a real plan to get Adrianna back. After all, Bear was right. It’d been another month since you had seen everyone & Rafe along with the others could’ve likely grown worse. His soft spot towards you may have hardened indefinitely. And if you appeared, there would be no guarantee to how he would react or treat you. You were taking a major risk. But you told yourself that if you felt deep in your gut that you couldn’t trust him, or them, then you would not be leading them back to where the rest of you were hidden out at. Even if it meant never returning again yourself. But you had to try, for Nuha.

            Your couple hour nap in the woods had been restless, sleep never fully coming for you. But once it began to get just a little brighter out, you decided to finish the rest of the trip as quickly as possible to prevent yourself from overheating in the summer sun. If you were reading the map right, you were within ten miles of the lakehouse. You’d be there by midday. So, you hiked your backpack further up your shoulder & moved quickly.

            When you reached the lake, you took to the woods. Not wanting to approach from the access road. You wanted to get a view of the lakehouse before moving closer, to even see if anyone was still there. As you stayed hidden along the trees by the shore, you slowly came near to the lakehouse. You crouched, peering through the bush to observe. At first, it looked totally abandoned. There was no movement from inside or outside the house. But as you crawled closer, you did spot a truck. Rafe’s truck.

            You swallowed. They had to be here. Rafe wouldn’t leave his truck behind.

            You weren’t one for religious practices, but you took just a moment to pray to a god, any god, to please make sure you’d be okay, that you’d succeed in recruiting Adrianna, & that you would make it back to Nuha in time.

            Just as you were standing up, preparing to step out & make yourself known to anyone who may be nearby, you heard a twig snap directly behind you, making you freeze.

            “Who the fuck are you?”

            You cautiously raised your hands, showing that you were not a danger. But you didn’t dare look behind you.

            The person behind you stepped closer, & you didn’t mistake the feel of the muzzle of a gun getting pressed against your shoulder blade.

            “I said ‘who the fuck are you’?” You didn’t recognize the voice though. This was bad.

            You fluttered your eyes closed, licking your lips, “I’m here to see Adrianna.”

            “Adrianna?” The voice sounded suspicious, “How the fuck do you know Anna?”

            This person was calling her Anna, too?

            “We’re friends.” You replied softly, “At least I hope we are.”

            Slowly, the person behind you circled to your front, & you finally faced with the man who was holding a gun to you.

            You briefly recognized him as one of the men who was with Micah down by the shoreline that one day over a month ago. This was not a friend, not someone you could trust.

            The man was rugged, the bags under his eyes prominent. He looked you from head to toe, clearly untrusting of you. When he finally met your eyes again, he smirked haughtily, “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

            You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, the butt of his gun came flying towards you. And the next thing you knew, you were swallowed by darkness.

i apologize in advance for the late update. there has been a lot on my plate in my personal life that i'm still currently dealing with, but i wanted to at least get this filler chapter in. it's a small one & pretty rushed tbh because my head wasn't fully in it, but i hope it is adequate.

as always, please share your thoughts w me via comments, reblogging w reviews, or dropping an ask. they help more than you know.

thank you for reading!

beau<3

Requests are currently CLOSED.

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @jsrafesgirl @namelesslosers

if you want to be added to a tag list: follow my blog, interact with the work you want to be tagged for regularly, & follow the requirements to be added which you can find on my pinned post.

[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.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wearing long sleeves? tw // self harm

recently i (20nb) had a particularly bad week and relapsed. i dont do anything that leads to any major injury but it does leave visible marks on my wrists.

after a few days i kind of forgot about them? i dont care about people seeing them all that much (obviously i do tend to wear longer sleeves to hide them, but theyre a part of me just like any other temporary scar. i dont bring them up ever i just let them exist. all this to say if i wear short sleeves its not the end of the world for me) and im in the middle of art school finals right now so hiding my scars is not my priority lol

recently i went out with my family (my mom [49f], my sister [16f] and my brother [14m] if it matters) to get haircuts. the haircuts are by a family friend (63m), and he is well aware of my mental health issues. once i got in the car, i realized that i put on a short sleeved shirt today. we werent exactly gonna go out and do stuff other than haircuts and burger king, so i thought it would be fine. the scars, at this point, have faded to nothing more than faint red lines and are barely noticeable.

long story short, my mom saw them and dragged me out to the car after our haircuts were done. once we got to the car she laid it in on me. she yelled at me, asking me things like "how dare you do that to yourself again", "how dare you show them off to [haircut guy]", "why did you think that wearing short sleeves was even remotely a good idea?". i tried to explain it was an accident, but she pointed to the scars and asked me how "that" was an accident.

i will admit that i didnt have a good answer for that and stayed silent. my mom didnt like that and accused me of everything from earlier again, and then marched inside for my siblings, saying she wasnt done with me.

im now back at my dorms after a very silent car ride. ive already texted my dad (49m) about the situation, who is backing me up, so hopefully the argument will resolve here, but judging from my moms visceral reaction, i feel like an asshole. the intent wasnt to "show them off", but i should have worn longer sleeves to hide them and make sure that i didnt freak out my mom. shes autistic and cant control her emotions very well (she hasnt gotten therapy for it) and she might have been stressed since ive had issues with sh for 7 years now and i was 4 months clean before i relapsed (and she mightve thought that i broke free of the habit).

... though as far as im aware, neither my mom nor my haircutter have had issues with sh in the past, and my haircutter didnt notice my scars.

sorry for long post; aita?

What are these acronyms?

[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?

[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

-----

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.

[weixuldo]

Enigma// ch 20

anakin x reader

a/n: i’m not a medical professional so don’t mind in accurate info lmfaooo- there is barf in this chapter only because i’m trying to make it realistic to what actually occurs after these procedures ( plus i kinda like writing whump lol)

The extent of Anakin’s condition is revealed and you wait for him to stabilize

warnings: cursing, alcohol abuse, emtephobia (barf and stuff…), hospitals, alcohol poisoning

_______________________________

“Ben!” you called when you spotted the bearded man sitting in the waiting room. 

“Y/n, Ahsoka- You two didn’t have to come, I could hav-”

“No, I want to be here” you interrupted. 

“Where is he?” Ahsoka asked.

“He’s still being treated, but they said a room should be ready for him soon”.

“Did they tell you his evaluation? What’s happening to him?” you asked.

“Yes, they concluded it was severe alcohol poisoning, enough to trigger a seizure and enough that he went into an alcoholic coma… I’m not sure for how long, but he definitely could have died.”

“How much did he have to drink to be in a fucking coma?!” Ahsoka exclaimed. 

“I’m not sure, but this is the most he’s ever drank,” Ben answered sadly, “but in addition he must have hit his head when he fell because he also sustained a mild concussion. “

Ahsoka seemed more frustrated than sad at the moment, “Un-fucking-believable!” she huffed. 

“Of course he was fucking drinking. I tell him he needs to go back to rehab or he at least needs some help, but does he listen to me...? No! And now here he is- going into a coma over it”.

You felt awful about Anakin’s admittance to the hospital, but you also understood the frustration Ash was feeling. She crossed her arms aggressively and tilted her face away, but you couldn’t help but hear her sniffles. 

“Ash?” you called, gently turning her towards you. Tears streamed down her face as her bottom lip quivered. 

“Ash…” you sighed, pulling her into your chest. 

“I-I try s-so hard to help him- but h-he…. I ju-just don’t want him to d-ie” she cried into your shoulder. 

Her outburst of emotion hit you in the feels and in turn made you teary as well; Ben came up and rubbed Ahsoka’s arm in comfort.

“I know Ahsoka. I know”.

_________________________________________

Days passed and Anakin was finally released from the ICU to a normal hospital room; it had a nice view of the city and good natural lighting. The room was equipped with a sofa and armchair as well as Anakin’s bed (of course). 

For the past few days you had taken residence in his room; sleeping on the couch and keeping spare clothes in a duffle bag, just to keep an eye on him.

You were the one to stay with him everyday because Ben and Satine had work and Ash had training camp.

Honestly, you only offered since they were all busy and you really had nothing else to do. 

The sofa was definitely an inconvenience for you, it was hard, didn’t have much space, and your back already hurt from the extra weight of your belly. 

You yawned and stretched your arms as you sat up from the couch beside Anakin’s bed.  

Taking Anakin’s reduced body size into account, the effects of the alcohol he consumed were amplified. His coma had lasted for 5 days and they continually pumped his stomach as well as gave him plenty of IV fluids.

Since they had gotten his vitals back to normal (relatively), he was predicted to wake up any day. 

Anakin looked so weak wrapped in the white sheets, a breathing tube sticking out of his mouth, wires connected to him, and tubes coming from every which way.

You had seen him without his prosthetics before, but the harsh hospital atmosphere made it all the more noticeable, you knew he would hate that he was disassembled when he woke. 

You heard a noise coming from Anakin and you saw his eyes weakly opening and closing as he choked on the tube down his throat. Immediately you jumped up and called nurses into the room. 

You weren't sure how conscious he was but you did know he was definitely scared. After a while you were let back into the room and told that he may be vomiting for the next few hours from all of the stomach pumps, concussion, and other shit that had happened. The head nurse told you that it was normal but to notify them if there was blood in the throw up. 

You thanked each nurse for watching over him and entered the room, fully prepared to take care of him.

He was lying in the same position he was earlier, but now he just had an oxygen tube running under his nose instead of the breathing tube.

You approached him and found his eyes were closed- he was probably resting. 

He threw up on and off for the next few hours, but it was the last time that was the worst. 

You grabbed one of the bins they gave you as you wondered if he was even cognizant enough to comprehend what was happening.

The dull room was on the chilly side but you could see the sheen of sweat forming on his brow, he was fighting so hard. 

You grabbed a cloth and went to dab at his forehead when he coughed, your eyes widened as you used your arms to sit him up so he wouldn’t choke. He coughed some more and began to drool, you grabbed a can and held it in front of him as you helped hold him up. His eyes were still closed and his head rested on your shoulder until you leaned him over the bin when he started to retch. 

You really had never been able to be around throw up without feeling sick to your stomach, but this was different: all you could think about was how you wanted it to be over so he could finally rest. 

His head was in the can and you rubbed his back as his body shook with the violent rolls of nausea. 

After a few minutes he finally finished and you put the bin on the ground so you could help him lie back down.

The metal can was definitely heavier than when you had originally given it to him, but you would have to take care of that bag later, now you need to focus on Anakin. 

He was almost about to fall over when you got back from setting the can down so you rushed to his side and grabbed one of the many washcloths the nurses had left in the room for this very occasion. 

His eyes were unfocused and barely open: that answered your question, he was not cognizant.

He groaned as you wiped his mouth and brushed his soft curls back; slick with his sweat. 

“Shh, shh, it’s going to be ok, Ani” you comforted, helping him lie back down. 

You rolled him onto his side just in case he started again and brushed your fingers through his hair. His brows were kneaded together and he was shaking; this was bad. 

A frown found its way onto your face as you watched him suffer, you never wanted him to have to go through this. 

After a few more minutes you removed your warm hand from him and went to assess the bin- there was no blood, so at least that was a good sign.

You stepped into the hall to call a nurse but there was already one there who had a custodian on the way. You thanked her and the custodian for being so patient with Anakin and you. 

After everything was sanitized you went back to sitting beside Anakin, you scanned his face for any signs of coherency but he was still really out of it.

The only sign of emotion was the small tears that fell from the corners of his closed eyes. 

______________________________________

Anakin tried to open his eyes but there was a blinding light shining down; he tried to speak but no words were forming. 

You noticed his rasping from the chair beside his bed and quickly jumped up and went to his side. He was attempting to pull off his oxygen tube but you stopped him and gently placed your hands on his face. With you blocking the overhead light, he could finally open his eyes. 

“Anakin?” you asked, trying to make sure he was actually up. 

He hummed and glanced around until he saw the IV pole and realized he was in the hospital quicker than you could have imagined his vitals went crazy. You backed up in shock as he tussled around in the bed, attempting to get out. You knew he had PTSD from being in the hospital during his recovery, but you didn’t expect it to be as bad as it clearly was. 

“Anakin it’s alright!” you tried to calm him, but he was too scared. 

Soon a team of nurses rushed in and took over before he could hurt himself; they ushered you out in the process. You texted Ben and Ahsoka to let them know that he was awake.

Once he was settled, you were allowed back in; his bed was propped up so that he was sitting and he had his head turned away from the door. 

Gingerly, you walked towards him as you tried to think of what to say. 

“Anakin?” 

Nothing. 

You sighed.

“Look, I know I'm the last person you want to see right now but putting that aside, I needed to know that you were going to be alright…”

Finally, he met your eyes.

“Did you put me in here?” he asked, more sadly than accusatory.

“No, Ben found you and called 911” 

He nodded, “I don’t remember- I don’t know what happened. I just woke up and you were there with lights shining from behind you”. 

Your face formed a sad smile, “you had severe alcohol poisoning. You were non-responsive…a-and your pulse was gone.”

His brows furrowed as he tried to comprehend what you were saying. 

“They had to pump your stomach and when they finally got your vitals back up, you had already slipped into a coma” you explained.

“People don't just go into a coma from alcohol, surely it had to be something else” he protested.

“Anakin, you had a blood alcohol concentration of .57…. Your average is .15” 

He looked up to the ceiling and laid his head back onto the pillow. 

“Fuck” he exclaimed. 

“Anakin, you can’t keep doing this-”

“I know,” he interjected with a frustrated tone. 

He took a breath and began to cough; he continued and you stepped closer, “Anakin, do you need your inhaler, I can go get-”

“I'm -” he coughed once more, “fine”.

You took another step closed and laid a gentle hand on the end of his arm stump but he quickly retracted his limb from your reach. You flinched and looked at him with wide eyes, you only meant to comfort him. 

His blue eyes looked more fearful than angry, what was going on?

His gaze traveled from your perplexed face down towards your growing stomach; his pupils dilated slightly before he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Please leave”

“But Anak-”

“Please” he pleaded, refusing to look at you. 

Your teeth gently bit down on your lower lip and you nodded, slowly heading for the door.

At the entrance, you rested a hand on the door frame and caught one last look at the man in the bed; tubes and medical tape all over his body, the hospital grade blue gown, even his sandy curls looked sad.

You had never seen him look so helpless, so dejected; surely he was lost in thought- to him this was probably torture. 

He already hated hospitals, but now he couldn’t even entertain himself with his phone. In addition, the doctors weren’t allowing him to put on his prosthetics yet.

He wanted nothing more than to just go home and sleep. 

As for you, you just wanted the father of your child to be able to recover and hopefully reign in his deadly addiction. 

***

a/n: sorry for all the throw up in the chapters lately (i just wanna try and make it as realistic as possible :( ) buuuttt next chapter will heat up emotionally and we’ll start seeing more y/n x ani moments :)) i have so many plot points i wanna do, so i’m not sure how long this fic is gonna end up being…. i hope you stick around though!! thanks for reading :)

taglist: @dnamht @sxoulohvn @angeelcoree @wtf-andys @httpeachesblog @katsukiswrld @jetiikote @poisonedsultana @imarimone12 @fallinlovewithevil

[thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed]

You’re Alive Pt. 4

Pt. 3 HERE

Word count: 2.2K

Summary: when you wake up in a hospital bed, finally you find out why it is that everyone’s been leaving you behind.

Warnings: mentions of depression, suicide attempt (overdose), seizures, hospital, angst

Pairing: Wednesday X Fem!Reader

Part 4 is finally here! I’m sorry if it kept you waiting, but with the shadow ban and everything, It was delayed a lot. I hope it was worth the wait🖤✨

———

Where am I? What is this place? It feels so calm, so peaceful, yet so… empty. This feeling… I don’t like it. It’s not really a feeling, I’m not feeling anything. Emptiness, is what I could call it even if it’s not quite the same. I feel things around me, I feel people around me, I hear voices, frenetic ones perhaps. I’m having these flashes of people around me, I feel people’s hands on me. Did someone find me? Am I in a hospital and… am I dying? Did I finally die?

“She’s having a seizure! Move her on her side” the doctors instructed as you felt their hands on you and felt liquids being pushed into you from some syringes. Your eyes were shut close but you could hear and feel everything.

Stop touching me, why is this so hard for you to understand? I want to die. If I didn’t want to die I wouldn’t have gotten myself in this situation. Please just Let me go, I don’t want to be here anymore.

“(Y/N), please, please I’m begging you don’t leave me. I need you, we need you. Please you have a long life ahead of you and I’ll be with you forever. Please just come back to me..” She said sobbing.

Who is this? Is this Wednesday? Did she come back for me? And why is she telling me she’ll be with me forever? Does she really mean it? Is she going to leave me again? Is she going to stay? But then if she is, I want to be with her, I want to love her and spend my life with her.

You stopped seizing and everyone in the room took a sigh of relief, doctors cleaning the liquid that had formed in your mouth from the seizure and then they attached a new IV drip to you, hoping that you’d recover. “This should be the downfall of her overdose. She shouldn’t get any worst after this so she should be in the clear. We will still check on her to be sure, but she should recover in no time. In the mean time, Mrs Weems” the woman stood up, she was still your guardian after all, and even if you were now an adult, it was clear that you couldn’t tend to yourself. “We’re gonna need to set her up some sessions with a psychiatrist when she wakes up, but we’re gonna need your permission. She can say she doesn’t want to go but given her conditions you’re the one making choices for her.” The woman nodded and the doctor left the room, leaving you alone with who used to be your girlfriend and your “mother figure”.

Wednesday just sat there next to your bed, holding your hand and crying silently, tears that she kept on wiping, refusing to be this weak again. She had already been too weak when she found you almost dead in what used to be her bed, and she had been feeling ashamed for showing emotions in front of Weems in the first place. In front of you she didn’t mind, but in front of Weems, no, she couldn’t. “It’s okay to cry, Wednesday…” Weems said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t touch me” the brunette warned as she continued holding your hand, but the woman insisted. “You need to learn to show emotions… I’m worried about her too.” Wednesday wasn’t having any of it. “Just shut up! You don’t get to do this, you don’t get to be here and try to comfort me when this is clearly all your fault! You forced us to leave, you forced all of us to pretend we’re dead because of some fucking mistake you did! And she was the one to suffer for it and you knew she would, yet you didn’t care!” Wednesday almost shouted. She couldn’t bare to just be quiet anymore.

The girl got up and walked towards the taller woman, clenching her fists and her jaw before speaking. “All these years I’ve wanted nothing more than to just be with her, I knew what she would be going through, you knew that too! Yet not once did you care! You raised her, she’s like your daughter and you just treated her like crap, you treated her like your experiment and not once did you care that she was hurting and that she didn’t live the life she deserved. This,” she said indicating to you “this is all your fault. You basically forced us to hurt her, so you don’t get to be here and tell me that it’s okay to cry.” The woman was about to speak back when you, who had woken up for a while now, spoke. “S-she forced you?” You asked weakly. Wednesday turned around and seeing you awake she ran to you and hugged you tightly, your head was pounding and it ached a lot, but you hugged her back.

“(Y/N), are you okay? How do you feel?” Wednesday asked, but you ignored her question and sat up. “What does she mean when she said you forced her?” You asked Weems. It had been a lot since you last saw her, but what you heard didn’t make her look really good. “(Y/N), this is a story for another day.” The woman smiled and walked over to you. “No, I want to hear it now. I want to hear why you left me here alone all these years thinking you were all dead, when you were actually living a happy life somewhere else. I want to know why you decided to make me suffer like this.” The woman remained quiet and looked down, Wednesday looked at her, sending daggers with her glare “if you don’t tell her I will” Weems stayed quiet so Wednesday sat on your bed and took your hand.

“Ever since you came at Nevermore, Larissa’s plan started. Do you remember when there was the Hyde attacking people?” You nodded at her question. It was never one Hyde. It had always been two. Ever since you came at Nevermore she drugged you, took you to the hyde’s cave, transformed you, made you kill people and then erase your memories with the help of a witch, her friend perhaps.” You looked at her in shock. “N-no, I’m not a hyde. That’s not possible, I’m not a hyde” you repeated. Wednesday squeezed your hand and sighed. “You don’t remember that because that siren was good enough. You’re not actually a real hyde, but with some kind of potion you became one for a really short period. No one knew about this until the final battle. Weems felt guilty after seeing you so scared, and she forced us to leave you, making you think we were dead because she was scared that you could kill all of us, and she didn’t want to be the one to kill you nor did she want to see you die.”

You were shocked enough to say the least, you didn’t know what to reply, how to react. “None of this makes any sense, please tell me you’re lying to me… Larissa, tell me she’s lying to me” you said, you really hoped she was just lying and they were making fun of you. “She’s not, my dear… I’m sorry” Larissa said and looked down. Once again you lost a mother figure, you had been lied to almost your entire life and now more people were lying to you, it hurt, it didn’t feel good. “Get out” you said as tears made their way to your eyes. “(Y/N)-“ you interrupted her “GET THE FUCK OUT” you yelled and watched her leave. Wednesday tried to calm you down but it wasn’t working. The IV working as well as the too many emotion made you want to throw up. You turned around and threw up on the floor all while crying and Wednesday held your hair back. “You’re okay mi amor, you’ll be okay…” she whispered and caressed your back in attempt to soothe you.

When you were finished and sat back up to look at her, you looked at Wednesday with tears in your eyes, while she took a tissue and cleaned your mouth. “Nes I-I’m so sorry…” you said and tried not to sob. “All this time I blamed you, I blamed you for hurting me while it was all her fault, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry please forgive me” you said and burst out crying, your own shaky hands on your face covering it and wiping your own tears. “(Y/N)… I should be the one to ask for your forgiveness. I never told you anything, I never stayed. I hurt you either way… I promised you I’d stay when I knew I wouldn’t, I never let you know I was fine, all of us were pawns in her game. Will you forgive me?” Wednesday looked at you with sad, hopeful eyes. She never wanted to be away from you longer than necessary, now she wasn’t going to leave your side. You looked at her while sobbing before just leaning in her arms, she held you as tight as she could and you heard a shaky breath escape her lips. Wednesday was so relieved to finally see you were okay, after a long dark period there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, and you taught her that.

“I went through hell…” you started, all while in Wednesday’s arms. You had both laid down in your hospital bed and Wednesday was hugging you while you hid your face in her neck. “When the psychologists asked me if I still thought of you, the reply was obvious… because I thought of you every day. And the only thing I wanted to keep remembering was your voice… fuck I wanted so bad to just be able to hear it forever, but with time… I forgot about that. With time my vision of you started getting distorted, I didn’t remember what you looked like anymore, and I’d pay thousands of dollars just to go back to the first time we met, and feel what I felt when I first started talking to you… and we went through all this shit just to end up being strangers again like the first time, this maybe, was the greatest heartbreak…” you gripped Wednesday’s shirt, trying not to cry again as she pulled you closer to her.

“And I hoped that maybe someday we’d meet again, in another world, another body, another time, another life. Like the soulmates meant to find each other in each life, you know?” You gave a small smile that only you were aware of. “I even got to a point when the mention of your name would hurt me a lot, it’d cause me panic attacks, nightmares… I felt so guilty for not having been able to save you that day. And then Weems? I fucked myself up getting attached to her. She was like a mother to me, and I put in it all of myself to be a good daughter for her. But I tried, didn’t I? Goddammit, at least I did that. Still, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. I was never enough and I’m learning it just now.” Your tears were staining Wednesday’s black sweatshirt, but she didn’t care.

“Before this day, before you, I didn’t really know what love was. And I kept on thinking, What if you take the chance, what if you risk your heart, what if you crash it into someone who genuinely inspires you, and they choose you? What if they love you the way you always desired to be loved? What if they hug your broken pieces back together, and bring you soup when you're sick, and fill your life with the sunniest, most tender kind of happiness? What if they grow you, and encourage you, and teach you that love was always meant to be soft? That it was always meant to feel the way it feels when you are with them? What if they make you understand why it never worked out with anyone who came before them? What if they stay?” You never thought that such words could come from you, yet here you were. And those words left Wednesday speechless too.

She moved so that you two were now lying in bed and facing each other, and she hesitantly brought a hand up to your cheek to caress it with her thumb. You leaned in for the touch as a tear rolled down your cheek, which she wiped. “This person is you. It was you, it is you and it will always be you and I don’t care what you say, even if you didn’t stay physically, you stayed in my head, in my memory, in my heart. But now I just want some peace, can we at least have that?” You said, whispering the last sentence as you snuggled up to her and she held you tighter, letting you hide once again your face in the crook of her neck. “My love, of course we can have some peace… now that you know everything, it’s time you come back with me and meet with everyone else too.”

Tags: @suiseistellar @theafterofnevermore @tundra1029 @dreifhraniquo29 @pdione11 @eddieboi23 @the-empty-chxld