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dancingbirdie · 7 months

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This request is really out of the blue but, i need I CRAVE i require a fic where tav and astarion finally find a cure for his vampirism (in dnd5 it can actually happen yay!) and he manages to see his reflection again and finally have his natural eye color again (blue bc he's prob a moon elf but I don't mind other colors too). The fangs can stay or not, idc, i just want my boy happy, in love, and cared for. Bonus points if there's cuddles too

OK first of all, thanks for this prompt!! Second, I had to break this up into two parts because I'm afraid of how unwieldy it would get otherwise. So see part 1 below. I'm actively writing part 2 and should have that posted within the next few days. Hope you enjoy!

UPDATE: Chapter 2 available here!

I Promised You (Chapter 1)

Rating: G

Pairing: Astarion x GN!reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings/Tags: mentions of unconsciousness, cheeky banter, domestic life, post-events of BG3, potentially problematic levels of self-sacrifice by reader.

***

“All right. I think you’re ready,” Gale affirmed as he peered over your shoulder, analyzing your hand movements as you practiced the incantation.

“You think? Shouldn’t we wait until you’re sure?” you replied, heavy skepticism coloring your tone.

“I can’t give you my complete assurance because you haven’t actually cast the spell,” the wizard sighed.

The two of you had had this argument many times over the past several months as you studied and practiced. And studied and practiced some more. The conclusion was always the same, but your anxiety always managed to convince you that a different outcome would be had if you just asked him again.

Conjuration magic was one of the most difficult forms to master. Yes, you had specialized in it during your formative years, under the tutelage of several learned wizards across Faerûn, but this spell was perhaps the pinnacle of feats in conjuration. Only a handful of wizards could perform it. Thankfully Gale was among that number, which is why you had come to him for help.

“As I’ve said, this isn’t a spell you can just cast for practice runs,” he continued. “You have one chance. And if it works, the sheer power of it is undoubtedly going to knock you unconscious.”

“I know, I know,” you grumbled. “I just… I need to be absolutely perfect. I have to do this. For him.”

“Have you told him what you’re planning yet?” Gale prodded.

“No. Not yet. I didn’t want to get his hopes up. Or have him tell me how unlikely success will be. Not until I was absolutely sure I could do this.”

“I see,” the wizard returned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, tonight is as good a time to tell him as any. There’s nothing more I can teach you to prepare for this. You know the incantation by heart. You perform the gestures almost through muscle memory now. You’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you repeated, as if saying the words would will it to be so.

“Send me a missive if he wants to go through with this. I’ll come to the cottage and oversee the spell’s casting.”

“All right,” you nodded.

“It’s going to work. You have to believe it’s going to work,” Gale encouraged, meeting your eyes with a serious, stern sort of expression.

“It’s going to work,” you agreed. “It’s going to work.”

***

It was dusk by the time you returned to the cottage. It was a modest home you shared with Astarion, situated just outside the city walls. It had a lovely view of the rolling hills that surrounded Baldur’s Gate, and proximity to the Chionthar River gave the air a refreshing, misty feel. Pastoral communities dotted the countryside with sheep and cattle grazing freely during the day, though they had returned to their stables long before your return.

Astarion was no fan of the bucolic lifestyle, as he was wont to remind you. But you both agreed that this living situation afforded him better meal prospects than the rats, cats and errant stray dogs that dwelled within the city limits. At least this way, he had more fulfilling options for food, since the livestock attracted their fair share of large predators. A mild, perpetual confusion charm that you cast kept the neighbors from questioning why – unlike their peers in neighboring villages and towns – their animals were never plagued by roving bears and panthers.

Astarion was lounging listlessly in the bay window of the den when you entered your home, one leg dangling off the ledge of his reading nook while he carelessly flipped through a book. Probably one he had pilfered from Gale’s stockpile a few weeks ago, you surmised. There had been an uptick in the wizard’s grumbling about discrepancies in his library catalog of late.

“Anything interesting?” you asked as you shrugged out of your traveler’s cloak and hung it on the coat rack by the door.

“Ugh, hardly,” Astarion grouched. “Nothing but debunked theories and philosophies from bloated scholars who died a hundred years ago.”

“You’re going to have to return Gale’s books to him eventually, you know. He’s beginning to realize how many from his library are missing.”

“Haven’t the slightest clue what you’re referring to, darling,” he replied breezily.

“Of course, love,” you chuckled, planting a kiss on his forehead as you passed him by to make your way into the kitchen.

“Care for a glass of wine?” you called.

“Mm, yes,” Astarion returned. “Red, please, dear.”

Uncorking the bottle and pouring the glasses gave you a brief moment to collect your thoughts. To steel your nerves for the conversation looming before you. Drawing a deep breath in and exhaling it slowly, you made your way back into the den and braced for the inevitable.

“Darling, do you have a moment?” you asked as you offered Astarion his glass before taking a seat next to him. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Gods, it must be serious,” he teased, straightening from his reclined pose to take the proffered glass and make room for you. “You like you’re about to be ill. Go on then, love, before you faint and spill this vintage all over the floor.”

“It is rather serious, in fact,” you began, clearing your throat that had suddenly become tight with nerves. “I’ve waited to tell you until now, but I’ve been researching some more difficult conjuration magic with Gale the past few months…”

“Oh?” Astarion prompted as you paused. “For what purpose, darling? I thought you had already mastered the school of conjuration.”

“I have. But this is a more specialized form. More… niche, I guess one might say. And, well…” you trailed off again, hesitant.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“I’ve-been-researching-a-spell-that-cures-vampirism-and-I-think-I’ve-found-a-way,” you spat out all at once, the words tumbling into each other like a wagon train gone wild.

Astarion met your eyes with a blank stare, seemingly forgetting that his one hand had been in the process of lifting the wine glass to his lips.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked hoarsely.

You coughed to clear your throat. “What I mean to say is: I’ve been working with Gale for months now to learn a spell that can cure your vampirism. He and I believe I’m ready to perform it. If you would allow me to try, that is.”

“If this is your idea of a joke,” he murmured, a slight quiver in his voice. “Then I have to tell you, it’s absolutely not funny at all.”

“It’s not a joke!” you assured. “I swear to you, Astarion. It’s not a joke,” you continued, squeezing one of his hands in yours.

He nodded absently, his gaze trained on your thumb as it soothed over the knuckles of his fingers.

“H-how?” he whispered finally. “How can you cure it? I’ve read every tome I could get my hands on for over two hundred years. Nothing, nothing, I’ve read has ever offered a solution.”

“Because this is a highly guarded spell. It’s only passed down through oral tradition among wizards who specialize in conjuration magic. Which is why I’ve needed Gale’s help,” you explained. “I broached the topic with him some time ago, told him how we were going to look for some way to cure your vampirism. Being a master of magicks himself, I thought he would be a good source of information for me to begin my research. I wasn’t even aware of the spell until he shared it with me. He’s been teaching me the mechanics of it since then. It’s been a difficult spell to master but–”

“What’s the cost?” Astarion interjected suddenly, meeting your gaze with a new intensity.

“It will cost you nothing, obviously,” you retorted, disliking where the conversation was heading.

Astarion huffed through his nose. A caustic, frustrated sort of sound. “Don’t play cute with me, darling. You know what I mean.”

“No. I don’t,” you hedged.

“What will the spell cost you,” he bit out through a clenched jaw.

You bit your lip, hesitant to reply. Astarion’s gaze never wavered.

Finally you sighed. Better to reveal the consequences of it all than attempt to hide the downsides from him. Even though they were negligible in your eyes, compared to the wonder that would be returning his elfhood to him, you knew he would resent being told only partial truths. You couldn’t fault him for it. You would feel the same, were the roles reversed.

“It will permanently weaken me. There’s a small, very small, chance it could kill me if I perform it wrong,” you confessed.

“No,” Astarion responded bluntly, without a hint of hesitation. He rose from the bench and made to leave the room. As if the matter had been settled and it was time to crack on.

“Wait! What do you mean, ‘no’?” you blurted. Jumping to your feet, you snatched at the sleeve of his nightshirt.

He turned to peer at you with a haughty gaze, one eyebrow arched delicately. “Exactly that. No. You’re not risking your life on the off chance of this working.”

“But it’s not an off chance. It will work! And the likelihood of me dying is incredibly slim!” you protested.

“But the likelihood of you being ‘permanently weakened’ is essentially certain, yes?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds. And besides, I don’t mind. I want to do this, Astarion.”

He scoffed. “Have you gone absolutely mad? ‘It’s not as bad as it sounds.’ Do you even know what will actually happen to you afterwards?” he shot back angrily.

“No,” you admitted, a bit quieter.

He deliberately widened his eyes at your response, crossing his arms across his chest as if to say See? My point proven.

“But I know I can handle it! And I love you enough to try!” you retorted.

That appeared to be the wrong choice of words. You realized it immediately as his expression morphed from outright anger to something darker, icier.

“Well then, it seems we’re at an impasse, darling,” he growled. “Because I love you enough not to have you go through with this.”

You opened your mouth to object once more, but he continued, ignoring you.

“AND, since it is my body and my life we’re discussing, it means I have the final say on the matter. My answer is no.”

You had anticipated this conversation going many different ways. You thought you had prepared for the most likely scenarios. But, in all your pondering, you hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that Astarion would reject this opportunity outright.

Your eyes welled with tears. Hot, angry, disconsolate tears.

“Astarion,” you murmured, desperate. Angry though you both were, you couldn’t resist the urge to curl into his embrace. Gently, you pulled at his arms in an attempt to un-cross them. With a soft sigh, he allowed you to manipulate him so that you were pressed chest to chest. Your arms banded around his waist, locking him against you. Slowly, he raised his arms to mimic your stance, peering down at you.

“Astarion, my darling, this is your chance. It’s the only chance we’ve found in over two years of searching. I know I can do it. And you can win it all back. I can help you. Let me do this,” you pleaded.

“Darling, how could I ever ‘win it all back’ when there’s a possibility I could lose you forever? Or that you could be seriously harmed in the process?” he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, smiling sadly. “I would never forgive myself if you were harmed in an attempt to cure me.”

You closed your eyes, tears slipping freely down your cheeks. “Please. I know I can do this. Please let me do this. I want to do this for you.”

“Come, pup, no more tears. I’ve given you my answer,” he murmured, swiping a thumb across your cheekbones to catch each tear.

You opened your eyes to glare at him. “If the roles were reversed, would you want to try this for me?”

“Of course,” Astarion huffed. “But that’s obviously different, I –”

“WHY? Why is it different?” you cried, clutching him.

“Because you’re worth it!” he implored, arms vibrating as though he were resisting the urge to shake sense into you. “Your soul is worth a thousand of mine! It’s not marred by death and torture and sacrilege. Can’t you see that? Don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t,” you argued obstinately. “Because you are worth it to me. Your soul is priceless to me. I love you. You’re the love of my life.”

Astarion said nothing, just stared at you with sad eyes. You couldn’t tell if his silence meant you were persuading him, but you couldn’t relent without giving at least one more desperate plea.

“I promised you. Remember? After everything that happened, I promised you we would find a way for you to walk in the sun once more. I didn’t make that promise lightly. I want to do this for you.”

“Darling…” he murmured sadly, shaking his head.

“Astarion, please,” you beseeched, shifting to clutch his face between both of your palms. “I’m literally begging you to let me try. Gale and I have been practicing for almost a year now. He wouldn’t tell me I was ready unless he was certain. I know I can do this. Please. Let me try.”

“Don’t you have any regard for your own life?” he whispered. “How is it that I’m more concerned for your well being than you are?”

“Darling, all of us have the slightest potential of dying every single day we continue to breathe. Anything poses some risk to our lives. I’m telling you, the risk of me dying from this is the same as the risk I take casting any other magic.”

“But there’s still a permanent cost to doing this. Have you even asked Gale to elaborate on what that entails?”

“No,” you admitted a bit sheepishly. “I didn’t really think about it.”

Astarion rolled his eyes but planted a kiss against your forehead. “You’re ridiculous, you know.”

“I’m sorry that I was so ecstatic about finding a cure that I leapt straight into studying it!” you said defensively, although your tone lacked teeth.

He chuckled and wrapped you in a tighter embrace, resting his cheek on the top of your head. The two of you stood like that for some time, arms wrapped around each other, lost in thought.

After a while, Astarion cleared his throat. “I want us to speak to Gale. I want to know the full details, the consequences of a spell like this.”

You jerked your head up in surprise, staring at him with wide, elated eyes.

“I’m not saying yes,” he clarified, attempting to tamp down your burgeoning excitement. “But I’m willing to hear more about this… possibility.”

A delighted squeal rocketed up your throat. Quick as a flash, you jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. Long used to your ebullient antics, Astarion caught you with a practiced ease. His arms banded under your thighs and across your lower back, squeezing gently.

“I love you, you daft, feral thing,” he chuckled, nuzzling your cheek.

***

“I would have gone over this months ago, had you afforded me the opportunity,” Gale had groused upon arriving at the cottage the following evening. The three of you shared a bottle of barrel-aged Callidyren while Astarion peppered the wizard with umpteen questions about the spell’s mechanics. To his credit, Gale managed to assuage Astarion’s concerns. At least for the most part.

The permanent effects of casting the spell, you both learned, would diminish your inner well of magic, rendering you unable to cast as many spells as you currently could before resting for a longer period of time. Almost as though the cost of performing the spell would revert you back to the strength you had had as an apprentice so many years ago. You would still be powerful, capable of wielding even the most intricate of spells. But your endurance would be shorter, more concentrated. It was a price you were more than willing to pay. Even more so now that you had actually allowed Gale to describe the effects in detail.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t press for more details,” Astarion grumbled.

“It didn’t seem important at the time,” you sniffed, waving a hand dismissively. “Still doesn’t, in my opinion.”

“You know, in some schools of thought,” Astarion countered dryly, “people believe the difference between bravery and complete idiocy is so fine a line that it frequently gets crossed.”

“So I’ve heard,” you crooned. “But, alas, I’m nothing if not an incredibly adept fool in love.”

Gale observed the two of you warily, as if uncertain whether this exchange constituted harmless domestic banter or an undercurrent of severe agitation.

“Yes, well,” he interrupted awkwardly, “as I said before, you’re as ready as you will ever be to perform this magic. I’ll be here to supervise and intervene, if necessary, though I don’t think it will be.”

“Bully for us. Is there anything else we should be prepared for, if we’re to go through with this?” Astarion snapped. “Sudden onset sliminess? Gills? Frothing at the mouth?”

You winced. He was always his most discourteous self when he was afraid. Gale might not realize it, but you knew him well enough to tell when his rudeness was obfuscation.

“Ahem,” Gale coughed, clearly affronted by the impertinent question. “No, nothing of that sort. But this spell is incredibly demanding on one’s body. It’s very likely they’ll fall unconscious once it’s been cast. The effect shouldn’t last for more than a few hours. Enough time for a proper rest.”

“You failed to mention that yesterday,” Astarion said peevishly, glaring at you from across the dining table.

“Because it’s the equivalent to me needing a good sleep after a tiring day,” you quipped.

Gale winced. “It’s a bit more serious than that, I’d argue.”

“Thank you,” Astarion intoned.

“Tsk. An inconvenience at worst. Nothing unmanageable,” you retorted. “So, what say you, darling? Are you willing to give this a try?”

Astarion’s glare shifted between you and Gale, studying you both.

“And you both swear to me that all information is now disclosed, yes? No partial truths, no hidden side effects?”

“I swear,” the two of you responded in unison. You reached for Astarion’s hand across the table.

“My darling, this will work. I’m going to be fine. And you’re going to be cured,” you smiled gently. “Please, trust me.”

He squeezed your hand, crimson eyes boring into your own.

Finally, after a moment, he gave you a terse nod.

“All right. Let’s try,” he agreed.

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joeys-babe · 6 months

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Joey B Blurbs: Water

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Summary: While bored at home during the twin’s nap time, you try the Water by Tyla Tiktok trend on your husband Joe.

Warnings: nothing really. fluff, unserious/funny

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

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November 6th - Day after win over the Bills

(yn’s pov)

Joe and I were currently cuddled up on the couch in comfortable silence, the only sounds being of the overhead fan and TV quietly playing the science channel.

Yesterday the Bengals had yet again a big win and it seemed like things were starting to click with the team. That Bye Week was exactly what they needed to set the season on a good path.

I scrolled through TikTok on my phone, one Airpod in my ear so I could hear the audio while leaving one ear free to hear any remarks from Joe about what he was watching on the TV.

Lately, my FYP consisted of puppies, couples, other WAGS, and thirst edits of Joe (I'm not ashamed).

Just under two weeks ago, I pranked Joe after seeing a video on TikTok and I wouldn't be lying if I said I have a couple more trends I've wanted to test on him.

One of them is the trend that consisted of you playing the song “Water” by Tyla as you secretly record your man to see if they'll try to get a peak of the screen to see her do the water dance.

I already knew that Joe would never openly fawn over another woman in front of me, or in private either really. Knowing it wouldn't have a super-positive impact on me and our relationship. But, there was still a part of me that wanted to see how he'd react to it.

Hell, he probably didn't even know the trend; which honestly would be the best outcome.

My head was lying comfortably on Joe’s shoulder as he intently paid attention to his favorite channel. I discreetly took my Airpod out of my ear and back in the case before pulling up the audio.

I had my phone angled to where it was hidden discreetly but Joe was still in frame.

The show was on a commercial break and through the camera view it showed Joe scrolling on his phone, occasionally laughing at something then scrolling on.

Turning my volume button up, I clicked the record button and studied Joe’s expression.

As soon as he turned I looked at him with a shocked look, but he was only grinning and showing me this video of a fainting goat on his Instagram feed; not even paying attention to the audio.

When he noticed the bitchy look on my face he immediately looked at me rather confused.

“What? Do you not think it's funny?” - Joe

My gaze on him softened when the fact he didn't know any significance of the audio became apparent. When I moved my phone out of its hiding spot and Joe realized he was being recorded, he looked at me even more confused.

“What are you doing?” - Joe

I turned the video off with a laugh and pecked his lips. When I pulled away Joe still looked lost and a little annoyed as to why I hadn't started explaining myself yet.

“Do you not recognize that song?” - you laughed

“No…” - Joe gave you a puzzled look

“It was a little TikTok trend that girls do on their boys. you, my love, are one of the very few that passed.” - you

“Yay?” - Joe

“Very yay, Joey!” - you giggled

Joe smiled slightly before gesturing to the TV that was counting down the time left on the commercial break.

“Can we watch the show now?” - Joe

“Of course. You had such a good reaction that I'm gonna bake you a pumpkin pie later.” - you

“Really?!” - Joe

“Yup!” - you

Joe squeezed me as a thank you and nuzzled his face in my neck, suddenly feeling the need to be cuddled.

“I still don't know what I did that was so right, but I'm glad I made you happy.” - Joe

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Authors note: this fic was too short to even qualify as an imagine so here’s my first blurb!

Hope you enjoyed! ❤️

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

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gabessquishytum · 5 months

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It's the time of year again for the Mate Mart Gala - oh no one calls it that to the faces of the Center for Secondary Gender & Healthy Mating Outcomes (CSGHMO) organizers, but every year the gala is an excuse to get all the unmated Alphas and Omegas in a room together and see if they spark --- ostensibly the gala is a holiday season event for charity, but it really is just a way to force the unmated into close proximity to each other to see what happens.

Being a male Omega in the modern times is better, Dream is less likely to be sold off by his parents for a patch of good farm land and some chickens - but with the Endless family,, ,, only just. And none of the meathead alphas are going to openingly look at Dream like he'll steal their souls or bewitch them, but again,,,, only just. Unfortunately, as an unmated (male) omega, Dream is required by the CSGHMO to go to the gala; most of the year he can ignore going to their mixers, but <not> the holiday mate mart.

Hob is not sure he's ready, even now, for a connection with/to another omega - he and his El had a love match, but they weren't mates as such (and woe to the center asshole who tried to insinuate something about Hob needing to get over it because he and Eleanor were not mates --- that guy might still be breathing funny from the broken nose). And maybe Robin could benefit from a consistent omega presence in his life, maybe, but Hob has been to these galas in every town he's lived in since El died, he's not expecting lightning to strike tonight --- it never has before.

⚡️BOOM!!⚡️

Hob arrived after Dream so all he started with was the scent of something making his nose itch and him start to sweat. Hob doesn’t realize it but he starts following Dream's path through the party trying to catch more of that enticing scent. Hob catches up with Dream (https://tinyurl.com/PartyLook) near the silent auction items; which is when Dream catches Hob scent.

BOOM indeed, my dear anon!

I'm obsessed with the idea of Hob stalking around the party, trying work out what is making him feel this way. He's never caught a scent that's made him so determined to find out what or who it is before! He can't give up on it. And he's rewarded when he comes across Dream in his beautiful outfit.

And Dream turns to look at him with those beautiful blue eyes. His nose twitches and his cheeks flush with colour. He's almost a bit embarrassed because the smell of the alpha in front of him is on the edge of making him wet. He's supposed to a proper little ice prince of an omega, but something is pulling him forward right into Hob’s personal space.

They're drawing attention from the other guests - especially the organisers, who are looking very interested by the potential meeting between mates! This is what the gala is all about! People are nudging each other, more interested in whatevers going on there than their own potential mating prospects.

And so Dream naturally grabs Hob by the wrist and drags him out to the corridor. He's not giving these people a free show, no way! Hob is only too happy to stumble after his(???) omega. Maybe he's drooling a little bit. Maybe he takes Dream’s wrist and sniffs it. Maybe he's just about ready to pop a knot in his fancy trousers just from Dream’s scent alone.

They silently agree to get the hell out of the gala. And they make it as far as the car park and Hob’s little red Honda before they're all over each other. He'll have to get the inside of the car professionally cleaned before he starts running Robyn back and forth to school again...

They both write anonymous thank you notes to the CSGHMO. And they never have to go to that bloody gala again! Yay!

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw omegaverse

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random-chaotic-bitch · 12 days

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Maddi's Reaction to TBB S3 Finale

Warning: SPOILERS. LOTS AND LOTS OF SPOILERS

The episode title killed me a little bit, ngl

I mean, "The Cavalry Has Arrived". Talk about a callback lmao

Ofc Omega found a way to release the Zillo Beast. And Echo's reaction was amazing. "How do you know?" "Because it's exactly what I'd do!"

Same with Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair: "Echo or Omega?" "Omega." "Omega."

I was so fucking convinced that the og operative - the one with the sniper rifle - was gonna be Winter Soldier-ified Tech. Like, I was banking on it, and it turns out he was just a random clone. (I might make a rewrite changing that outcome lol)

Emerie finally became a good guy! After Episode 10, I was rooting for her to wake the fuck up haha. Glad she came to her senses, and very proud that Echo had the sense to trust her.

Oh, speaking of the not-actually-Tech operative, HE CUT CROSSHAIR'S HAND OFF?! CROSSHAIR BBY NOOOO

Ahem. I'm not mad. It's a TV show, it's not real, I'm not mad.

Sorry, where was I?

Hunter and Crosshair finally acting like brothers again makes my heart so happy. "You should stay here. I'll go after Omega." "Not a chance."

Ooh, when Echo found Omega and the other kids, the way he greeted her made me wanna cry a little bit. And the way the kids hugged her before Emerie flew them to safety - guys, my heart can't take this cuteness.

Echo's speech to the prisoners gave me Fives' battle for Kamino speech. "You've all been through enough, and you all deserve your freedom, but Omega and I can't do this alone. Will any of you help us?" compared to "We're one of the same. Same heart, same blood. And my blood's boiling for a fight." "But what about our training?" "Your training is in your blood."

Hunter, Crosshair, and Omega working together almost non-verbally to kill Hemlock was amazing. Our baby Omega has grown up so much since Season 1, and I'm so proud of her. Also, yay, Hemlock is dead!

Nala Se's "sacrifice" to destroy her work kinda made me tear up, ngl. (I say "sacrifice" because it wasn't a big thing like Tech's death, she just got shot by Rampart and dropped the detonator at his feet. It still made me tear up tho.)

Everyone recovering on Pabu made me so happy, but we didn't see Phee and Omega reunite, which was kind of a let-down. But, everyone's safe and happy, so I'll take it.

Now for the big thing: THE END SCENE

Oh my god baby Omega grew up so much. Her long hair in the really loose and messy ponytail made me so happy haha. Also, was that Hunter's bandana? TBB team, can we confirm?

Speaking of Hunter, his older look makes me so happy. No armor, just soft, comfortable clothes. (I do miss the old bandana though)

Hunter's concern about Omega becoming a Rebellion pilot is so fatherly omfg. Also, our baby is a Rebellion pilot!!

Omega's little salute to Hunter and Batcher made my heart melt a little. Seeing Tech's goggles on the dashboard also didn't help. And Hunter's final line - "She'll be fine."

Guys, I'm in awe. This episode was amazing. Laughed, cried, and melted the whole way through. Perfect ending for our favorite squad.

#random chaotic bitch #star wars #maddi talks #tbb #star wars tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb spoilers #tbb wrecker #clone force 99 #tbb season 3 #the bad batch season 3 #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #spoilers #tbb season 3 finale

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bungouchronicles · 12 days

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WAIT I JUST STUMBLED ACROSS THE NEWEST BSD CHAPTER (which I somehow missed was coming out today ig??) AND I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS

Spoilers for chapter 114,5/115 of bsd‼️(enjoy my disorganised bungou ramblings)

DID BRAM JUST SERIOUSLY DIE!?? I know you can't trust character deaths when it comes to bsd but I just don't know how he could possibly survive basically transforming into someone else. Does he even exist anymore?? Also didn't he see the same thing happen to the soldier he ordered to kill Fyodor all those years back?? AHHHHH

ALSO Aya has NO (good) dad anymore!! WHY DON'T WE EVER JUST GET TO BE HAPPY IN THIS FANDOM⁉️

I also thought Fukuchi was already dead but apparently not?? Tbh I'm not really liking this outcome but hopefully Asagiri will be able to win me over with the coming chapters.

WAIT WAIT THAT "TRIANGULAR SINGULARITY" IS WHAT WE SEE AT THE END OF SEASON FIVE RIGHT!?? WAIT WHAT IF FYODOR AND FUKUCHI FUSED TOGETHER ONTO THAT WEIRD THING SSKK FOUGHT!?? OR MAYBE BOTH OF THEM TRANSFORMED INTO DIFFERENT WEIRD THINGIES AND THEY JUST DIDN'T SHOW FYODOR TO KEEP THE MYSTERY ALIVE!??

WAIT THIS MEANS NIKOLAI IS ALIVE SINCE BRAM WAS THE ONE FYODOR TOOK OVER SO IG WE ATLEAST HAVE SOMETHING TO BE HAPPY ABOUT *sigh*

Oh no I was writing something about Fyodor taking over Nikolai but I guess I have no reason to finish it anymore, or maybe I'll still do it even though it isn't that much of a theory anymore idk. I like the language of it

I'm getting sidetracked

BUNGOU STRAY DOGS YAY IG

I miss my wife (Bram)

OH and also my fyobram shipper dreams are crushed I guess. OR maybe noooot...I mean some might say literally becoming eachother could be considered romantic?? PFFT

Anyways I'll always hold the two months we decided to ship fyobram close to my heart ❤️

WAIT WAIT THIS MEANS FYODOR COMPLETELY FAKED HIS ABILITY THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE SHOW!! HE DIDN'T EVEN USE IT ONCE THAT LITTLE JERK‼️‼️

I'll shut up now

#This last month has gone by so fast #huh #and as always I will NOT be normal about this #bsd #bsd ch 115 #bsd chapter 114.5 #bsd ch 114.5 #bsd spoilers #bsd fyodor #bsd bram #bungou stray dogs #aria indulges the voices

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justalazywriter · 2 years

Text

HCS| they are the little spoon| Naruto| gn!reader

Warning: none

➢masterlist

Requests open

A/n:Well some are short and some are long , I'm not too happy with the outcome but I hope you liked it

Characters : Kakashi , Hashirama , Tobirama , Madara , Iruka , indra , Naruto

Kakashi (ofc)

It's a lot easier to get him be the little spoon when he's tired.

He won't let you go and you can't change anything (unless you need to use the toilet ofc)

I would say his touch starved side really shows when he's the little spoon . Feeling safe for once and enjoying your presence is heaven to him .

He likes that he can show this kind of side around you and that you don't think of him as weak bc he is like this.

Cuddling like this with him is like having a huge heated teddy bear on top of you Wich is really nice (especially in autumn or winter nights )

Hashirama

It's a lot more common with him and honestly he's the best little spoon in my opinion

Huge heated teddy bear 2.0

he will fall asleep so easily on you and gosh his breathing is really relaxing and you might fall asleep but try not to, it's worth it

He is a funny sleeptalker

Honestly there could be a tired version of the muffin man "have you heard... Of the muffinnn man?" "The muffin man?" "The muffin mann"

Or just random words but honestly that makes him even more loveable

Tobirama

Extremely rare but not impossible

You might have to beg him unless he's really tired

2nd best little spoon just a little cold

His temperature is below average but not too much still in summer this could be pretty useful lmao

Tobirama naturally seeks warmth when he sleeps so if he falls asleep on you expect him to have a little grip on you and cling a bit

He isn't a sleeptalker nor snores but he sleep really light so don't try to read with him on top of you (if your arms are free ) unless you want to wake him up. It's either the light or the page flicking that'll wake him up

Tobirama will never admit how much he loves it but it's noticable bc after some while it takes less and less effort to get him to be the little spoon

Madara

Honestly if you get this man to be the little spoon you have my respect

I don't mean it's impossible but it's really really hard

However don't give up , hell eventually crack and do it but get him to do it when he's tired . Madara moves a lot and when he's tired hell maybe realize it's not that bad to be the little spoon

Heated big blanket

What's even rarer is to get him to fall asleep on you . He always has the want to be able to protect you and he can't do that as good when he's sleeping

But it's easy rub his back slightly and let him listen to your heartbeat (it calms him knowing you're there calm and alive ) maybe he might fall asleep

Sleeping Madara increases temperature and clings more (can't decide if he is a light snorer or not a snorer?) would be suprising if you don't falls asleep bc it's pretty calming with that heated blanket lmao

Unless it's summer , might suck a little then

Like Tobirama a light sleeper but not as light as Tobirama

Iruka

Won't have to ask him twice to be the little spoon . He loves it . The calming heartbeat he can listen to and so on . Iruka could name a hundred reasons why he loves it

Medium heated blanket

He isn't too warm . Just right to go through summer too

Falls asleep easily and is kind of a deep sleeper but will notice if you try to get away

Might act sad about it

Indra

Almost impossible

However if you ever get on his real warm side yeah he maybe might do it

Let's say you did it (yay) and now got an Indra laying on you

What to do next? Nothing . Just kidding . If you're brave enough glide your hand over his back or just have your arms around him and he'll surprisingly relax .

Relaxed Indra is just *mwah* perfect , peaceful and extremely rare

Medium heated blanket 2.0

I dont think he has a cold temperature, maybe a bit higher than normal but that's it

If he ever falls asleep on you don't move , he sleeps lighter than Tobirama and there's no way you can do anything without waking him up

Unless you make no sound and no noticable movement

Like Tobirama , won't admit that he likes it but unless him you hardly notice that he actually likes it

Unless you pay attention to how quickly he relaxes or falls asleep and that he gets less stiff every time

Naruto (grown up(romantic) or friendship cuddles , you decide )

Moves a lot and snores actually

But he might ask you first if he can be the little spoon

Heated big blanket 2.0

Can't stop talking and will beg you to play with his hair , it relaxes him

Surprisingly falls asleep rather quickly when he's tired

Loves listening to your heartbeat/breathing , it calms him

A deep sleeper around you and won't really notice if you try to get away or read etc

End

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rimouskis · 4 months

Text

I have a variety of goals and wishes for the new year, but here are the fandom-related ones:

I wish to write more! I wrote 19 fics this year (1 unfinished 😭 but to be finished in the new year) and while that isn't bad, I wish to write LONGER fics. my specific goal is to be more disciplined and to write regularly, even when I don't ~feel~ like it, because I have several stories I've been wanting to tell for YEARS, and truly "when if not now?"

I wish to read more! I haven't been keeping on top of the sidgeno tag. this MUST be remedied!

I wish to continue prioritizing travel and fandom friends. I visited a bucketload of fandom friends in multiple countries this year and it was SO fun. while I can't swing multiple countries on the regular (lol that was an extreme, very fun outlier) I can make a concentrated effort to keep seducing friends to come to pgh to see me/the team AND I can make a concentrated effort to go to cities near them to see more games. I've already got one trip planned and I'm excited to see where else I'll end up in the coming year.

I wish to fervently and cooperatively encourage an open, happy, productive fandom environment. this is one that's impossible to do alone, and one I can't "control" the outcome of, but it's deeply important to me to keep my tiny corner of fandom clean and welcoming and while I'm not perfect (and no one is), I want to keep Doing My Part to make this a happy, friendly, healthy place. turned out this required blocking, like, two nasty anons lol I've been living in fandom bliss for MONTHS and it's been lovely ahahaha. but while keeping people with nasty intentions off of my blog is one side of that coin, the more important side is being welcoming/friendly/engaging. I find that while I'm really good at being polite when people come to ME, I'm still bad at reaching out first. I would like to make a concentrated effort to do that more, because I've met so many lovely people and I KNOW there are buckets more on this site and elsewhere who would be such lovely presences in my life... but I don't know it yet because I haven't forged a connection! Make More Connections 2k24!

I'm also bringing several non-fandom friends to games in 2024, and they've been so good and supportive of me liking sports, so I wish to continue sharing (parts of) this part of my life with them! it's rewarding!

yay happy 2024 I love you all

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sassylegshayne · 1 year

Text

support your local caffeine dealer chapter six

chapter six if finally here, revealing how the aftermath of the night together will shake out eeeeeee okay yay enjoy!! mwah xx oh yeah it's 3.5k and has some little pieces of spice btw

series masterlist

You awoke slowly, the sun peering through the curtians of your living room window. You move around a bit, confusion flooding your mind as you feel something tough below you.

Your heart races as you open your eyes, your view falling upon a sleeping Shayne, his arms wrapped around your waist. Soft snores leave his mouth as he slumbers.

Your view does nothing to calm your beating heart, your hands shaking a bit as your tried your best not to wake him. You wanted to freak out, like you were internally, but you didn't think you could handle the conversation you needed to have with Shayne right now.

So you slowly, very slowly, remove yourself from him, making sure to replace the blanket, keeping him warm.

You find yourself tiptoing through your own home as you inch toward the kitchen; attempting to brewa pot of coffee as quietly as you could.

You find yourself sat at your dining table, mind racing a million miles a minute as you sipped your coffee; at this point, you were hoping the caffeine would work some magic spell, drawing your memories forth.

Not working.

The last thing you remembered was saying your goodbyes, and getting into Shayne's car, which now seemed like a black hole, sucking all your thoughts away.

Stirring from the couch sent your head quickly turning to face it, a small smile on your lips as you took in Shayne's disheveled look; his hair tousled, clothes a bit askew, his lips quite pink... oh my god.

You didn't..did you? You really hadn't thought of that possibility until now; did you make a move on him? Did you two fuck?

He rises from the couch, stretching his hands above his head as he yawned. The movement tugged his shirt upward, your eyes quickly darting to his abs, the small happy trail downward not helping with your still racing heart.

A small chuckle pulls you away, meeting his eyes shamefully before you quickly turn to sip from your mug as Shayne moves slowly toward the kitchen.

"Well, good morning, Y/N." He trailed off, his heartbeat matching yours as he smiled at you, you still not meeting his eyes. You hummed softly in acknowledgement, nodding towards the coffeepot, an empty mug sitting beside it.

"I've got a couple creamers in the fridge that you can help yourself to." You spoke quietly, still refusing to look at him.

Shayne chewed on his raw and chapped bottom lip as he moved around the counter, pouring his coffee to his liking as a silence fell over the two of you. As hesitantly approached the table, his mind finally helping him to decide the best way to go about this awkwardness, his phone buzzes in the coffee table.

He sighs softly, watching as you turn to the noise. Shayne grabs his cell, lan's name showing on the screen.

He declines the call, shooting a quick text to lan, asking him if it could wait. He felt like you two really needed to talk about last night, he wanted to assure you that he didn't think last night was anything short of friendly, nothing happened, it was nothing. He assumed the two of you were on the same page, he wouldn't have guessed that you were nervous that you had done something worth remembering, and now it was nothing.

lan quickly responded.

"Chanse is sick and we have to shoot today. can you please come in? the shooting schedule is gonna be fucked if we miss this"

Shayne sighed, running a hand through his hair as he shot a quick text back, telling lan to give him an hour and he'd be there. He turned to you, smiling as his eyes finally met yours.

Your mind and heart had both calmed a bit, trying your best to accept every possible outcome, roll with the punches. "I'm sorry." His heart hurt as he saw your smile falter at his words. "Chanse is sick, and -I, uh, gotta go shot for the channel." He trailed off, embarrassed to find himself the one refusing to look at you now.

He pocketed his phone before moving back toward the kitchen, chugging a bit of his coffee before placing his mug in the sink. Shayne found himself wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind you as you still sat in the chair a bit. You leaned into his chest, smiling.

Shayne placed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head, giving you a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry, really.. text you later, okay?" Shayne spoke softly as you nodded. You chuckled a bit, tilting your head back to look up at him. He grinned down at you, laughing softly.

talk to you later. maybe." You chuckled, shrugging as you let your head fall forward again, hearing as Shayne chuckles, gathering his things before silently exiting. What the fuck was that? A kiss on the head? Was that just an excuse to get himself out of talking about it?

You groaned, letting your head rest on the tabletop.

You'd like to say you'd done a good job at distracting yourself from constantly thinking about Shayne and last night, but you'd be lying. You started a book sitting in your 'to be read' pile, and then you started a different one because the first wasn't helping. The second one wasn't better.

You settled on TV, throwing on a movie as you sat cuddled into your couch cushions. The same one's that you and Shayne had woken up On.

You did the dishes, only to find the empty mug he left behind before he rushed out of your door.

You didn't expect to spend your day off as a personified ball of anxiety but you can't pick your battles.

He said he would text you, too, but nothing. It'd been hours since he left with a promise of messaging you again.

He'd get to it, he was probably busy with his shooting. Or with whatever else he might be doing.

It's not a big deal, you're totally fine, he'll message you if he wants to, it's his loss if he doesn't.

Shayne felt like the day couldn't be longer, regretting leaving his phone at his desk throughout the shoot, desperately wanting to text you or call you, anything to make sure you were on the same page.

He couldn't stand seeing you like you were this morning, stuck inside your own head, seemingly weary about the situation. Shayne just wanted to make sure that nothing changes between you two over last night, not wanting to lose the little bit of you that you allow him to see.

He's been having a hard enough time with being your friend, he wasn't sure how bad he'd take it if he lost you entirely. Damien could tell something was off, Shayne was quiet after every shoot, barely doing more than reading the script.

Once they'd wrapped on the day, Damien had caught sight of Shayne quickly moving to wardrobe. He hadn't realized his friend quick on his heels until Damien had fallen into stride beside him.

"Shayne, why are we in such a hurry?" Damien asked as the two entered into the small room, grabbing their clothes to change into. Shayne quickly changed his shirt, thankful he wasn't in a full costume for the last shoot. Damien quickly changed after asking for Shayne to wait, surprised that he'd kept his Word.

"Im sorry, I just was in the middle of something this morning that I'd really like to get back to and finish up." Shayne tried his best to remain neutral, the irritation still evident on his face. know it's hard to talk, but so is hiding how you feel." Damien offered, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Okay, yeah let's.. let's go talk.." Shayne mumbled, heading towards his friends desk, hesitantly passing his own, his phone sitting patiently in the drawer. The two settled into their respective seats, few people around them.

kay, Damien, I'm just gonna say everything as best as can and we'll go from there, okay?" Shayne looked worried as he spoke, rubbing his hands on his thighs as Damien nods, giving Shayne the open air.

"Okay, so, Y/N and have been texting for a while, chatting a bit whenever go in, and think really like her. She doesn't see me that way, which is fine and respect it, like, she made it clear. Like, her and I rode together last night, I picked her up from her place, we were texting earlier and she asked if I was offering a ride so l'd have someone hot to show up with, Shayne found himself rambling quietly, his eyes avoiding Damien's as he spoke but he still saw his friend nodding along.

"I told her no, we joked around a little bit. Then when I picked her up she asked if she was playing the role of a fake girlfriend, then told her no again, and she said she wanted to play the role of just my friend." Shayne couldn't help but sigh as your words ran through his mind yet again.

"But... but then I had a great time with her, I took her home and she showed me around, she wanted me to stay and watch a movie, so agreed to one. Then she wanted to cuddle, she kept telling me how to move so she could be comfortable, then she laid on me and she fell asleep, and guess did too." He trailed off chewing his lip.

"This morning, she woke up before me and she didn't say a word until after lan called me, all she did was tell me goodbye. I haven't talked to her at all, and now I'm freaking out that she's just worried it changed our friendship. And I kissed her head this morning, Damien, I don't think that helped me at all. I can lose everything, I just can't lose her, yanno?" Shayne felt like he'd run a marathon once he finished talking, out of breath from everything he had to say. When he finally meets his friends eyes, he finds Damien with a small smile on his face. Damien was excited to finally hear about Shayne's crush, to hear how nervous his friend was about his feelings.

"So you're assuming that she's upset about it? Did you talk much either?" Damien questioned, shrugging after Shayne solemnly shakes his head. "So you were nervous for the complete opposite reason that you're assuming she was nervous for?"

Shayne groaned, rubbing his face. He sat in silence for a few minutes, his mind rattled. "Okay, the issue still lies that there's something her and need to talk about, that is obvious, but feel like it's something that needs to happen in person, but don't know if she'd want to see me or."

"Okay, hold on. What if you just text her asking to come over, or invite her over for dinner or something? A way to show her that you care and want to make sure she knows it Damien argued, hoping that you two would quickly overcome whatever issue sat between you.

Shayne sat with his head in his hands, groaning softly as he thought it over, hoping for another option to pop into his mind.

"Yeah.. yeah guess that's worth a shot."

"hey, wanna come over for dinner tn? we're done shooting so it'd probably be in a couple hours, if you're down"

What the fuck? That's all you get? A part of you was angry with Shayne's first message to you, time stamped at 4:57PM.

Okay, he was busy at work, and maybe he wants to talk? That's what this was, that's all. You were going to ask what happened, he was going to tell you, damage control from there. It Would be fine.

"hey, yeah I'm down, send me your addy and see you in a bit "

You found yourself stressing as you dug through your closet in desperate search for anything that felt right to you. So far you'd narrowed down the jeans, ripped black denim, and were searching for a top. Eventually you setle on a cropped graphic tee, assuming that dinner as his place would be casual.

You were admittedly very nervous. You didn't want to assume the worst, but the thought that you could've done something to change Shayne's perception of you was scaring you.

You took your time with your hair and makeup, hoping to calm your nerves with the distractions before you drove to Shayne's apartment.

When you had finally found a parking spot, you exit your car to find Shayne smiling from his balcony, offering you a small wave before he headed inside.

You chuckled softly as you headed upstairs, finding him standing in his doorway, a smirk on your lips.

"Were you waiting on me? thought that was my job." You poke, laughing softly as Shayne steps aside, inviting you in. You slip off your shoes as you glance around his apartment, taking in his simple decor. "Don't worry, I won't give youa drunken tour." Shayne chuckles, winking at you before he heads into the kitchen. You tried to match his chuckle, an awkward feeling settling over you. Did you give him a tour of your apartment last night? Your bathroom was a disorganized mess and your room didn't look much better; you wanted to turn around and leave. You thought you two could talk and everything would be fine, but maybe acting like you two never met would be easier than this embarrassment.

Shayne stood at the stove, stirring a pot before he motioned you to sit at one of the barstools near him.

"Do you like spaghetti? I'm not a great cook, but make a very mediocre spaghetti." Shayne smiled as he faced you for a second before turning to grab plates.

"Spaghetti's good, very reliable dish so respect that move." You laughed, realizing that you two would talk when the time is right, enjoy whatever happens until then.

Shayne plated your dishes, offering you an array of drinks before moving to sit with you on the couch. The two of you settled in, eating quietly as some music played off of the TV.

After a few songs played, you set your plate on the coffee table, sitting back as you chewed your lip. You couldn't stop you mind from racing with the silence between the two of you.

"You okay?" Shayne asked softly, noticing your fidgeting, moving to set his plate next to yours. "Shayne, okay," you turn, spinning to face Shayne, your back against the armrest. As you open your mouth to speak, he copies you, mirroring your searing with raised brows.

"Okay, I want to say I'm sorry, I'm really sorry; want you to know that I'm so embarrassed about this but, I don't remember some of last night." You looked to him with worried eyes searching his face for any kind of emotion.

"Wait, what do you remember, then?" Shayne adjusted himself, sitting a bit upright. Every way he expected tonight to go just blew away in the wind, he never once thought that you didn't remember it.

You widened your eyes a bit as you read his tense body language, fearing you may have done exactly what you thought.

"I remember leaving the bar, I remember getting into the car, and I remember you asking me what thought about everyone; I have like fuzzy bits and pieces, like know you walked me upstairs and there was a movie playing. The next thing I remember was waking up in your arms." You couldn't help but chuckle a bit, hoping you'd feel weight off of your shoulders, but instead you just felt worse.

"Okay." Shayne said after a few beats of silence as he meets your eyes, your concern visible. "Do you want me to tell you what happened?" You nodded your head, fearing your voice might fail you at this point.

"We got to your apartment and wanted to walk you upstairs to make sure you got in okay, but you held my arm and invited me. You brought me around your apartment, showing me your room for a few seconds before you went to the couch. I said I was gonna leave, but we agreed to watch a movie, and we did." Shayne noticed how embarrassed you felt, leaving out a few details at the end to spare you at least a small amount of your dignity. You sighed deeply, shaking your head a bit.

"Shayne, why'd we wake up like that, though?" Everything felt right in Shayne's telling, but it felt like something was missing.

"Well, alright. You wanted to cuddle when sat with you, then you just told me how should sit, then you told me to lay down and you laid on me." Shayne smiled, biting back a nervous laugh.

You feel a giggle building as you watch Shayne cover his mouth. Quickly the two of you fall into laughter.

You had to laugh in disbelief at your actions, you were embarrassed, but no where near as badly as you thought you'd be. Shayne was laughing as he still wasn't over just how this played out, he never could've guessed you spent your day confused and probably anxious over the unknown.

Once you both had settled, taking deep breaths, you found yourself launching towards Shayne with open arms, pulling him into a hug.

"Thank you, Shayne. That's no where near as bad as thought it was going to be." You buried your face into his shoulder, his arms around your waist as your continued.

"I thought we had slept together or something."

Shayne tensed, his laughter faltering a bit at your words as he felt his body tense. After another squeeze, you pull away, sitting back as you had been previously.

"Tm not saying that like we would, yanno, sleep together, that's why I'm glad to know." You trailed off awkwardly, shaking your head as you smiled at Shayne.

He'd felt that pain of rejection in his chest again. You were that worried because you thought you'd slept together. You really, really didn't want him to think that you wanted that. But you did, and your eyes raking over his body was a giveaway in your mind, but was confusing in his mind. The two of you fell into a more comfortable silence, letting each other process their feelings. Shayne trying his best to ignore his pain as he offers you a soft smiling, asking about throwing on a movie. You both settle into the couch, a bit of deja vu hitting both of you, despite the gab betwe your bodies.

You find yourself initiating small touches with Shayne, your hand resting on his thigh each time you laugh at something, sitting closer when you return from the bathroom, leaning into his side.

Once Shayne places his arm over your shoulders, holding you close to him, he starts to think maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea. His mind starts to wander, thoughts of his nails digging gently into the soft skin of your hips, your nails dragging down his back, his lips leaving trails between your thighs.

"Did you hear me?" Shayne looks to you, brows furrowed as he shakes his head, willing to admit he'd been a bit distracted. said I'm probably gonna head home since the movies over" you nod toward the screen before leaning up, pressing you lips softly to his cheek before rising.

The two of you were in an awkward limbo of small touches and displays of affection, words left unspoken when fngers linger, or when hugs last a bit longer than needed. You hoped you left Shayne with the impression you wanted to; you liked Shayne's company and found him attractive, he could take that information and do what he pleases.

All Shayne was really left with as he watches your car pull out from the parking spot was confusion. He wanted to give you space, keep his distance so as to not scare you, but you just wanted to do the opposite.

He'll see you tomorrow and try to wrap his head around you, figure out what you want from him.

Maybe.

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sirfrogsworth · 1 year

Text

So I followed Sabine Hossenfelder a few weeks ago thinking, "Here is a cool science lady" and then out of nowhere she releases a video on trans people where she is all, "Trans people are crazy and I'm normal!" and then dubiously interprets trans studies for 20 minutes. Then, while claiming she is the levelheaded centrist only seeking objective scientific facts, she references Jesse Signal, a bad faith anti-trans "journalist", as a scientific source.

I also hate this notion that the only metric for the success of gender affirming care is a decrease in depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. Those are certainly goals. But...I mean, life is tough out here even if you aren't transgender. You can feel you've had a positive outcome with your transition and still struggle with mental health. I think that is clear by the low regret rate. And even when people are able to tackle their gender dysphoria via transition, we cannot discount the effects of poor societal acceptance. Not to mention the cruel legislative onslaught currently underway.

It's like, "Yay! I'm finally who I'm meant to be!"

But also, "Ack, these transphobic dipshits are trying to kill me!"

No other treatment is held to the standard of creating shiny happy people at a 100% success rate.

And yes, drugs sometimes have side effects. All drugs. Even over-the-counter drugs like Tylenol. There is no medical treatment without risks. And if we banned every treatment that had the possibility of a bad outcome, we would have literally no medications at all. She was very serious about all the bad things that can happen with blockers and hormone therapy but didn't mention how uncommon those risks are. She didn't mention that bone density is closely monitored. And the risk of heart trouble she mentioned was for older patients getting treatment for prostate issues.

Which makes me wonder why in the world she did not at least consult an actual trans person? Or even a doctor that provides gender affirming care? She just googled everything and interpreted the data with her physics brain and didn't even think to run her interpretations by people with actual expertise.

I'm not even sure a purely scientific analysis of trans issues is possible due to so many variables not being quantifiable. You can't just toss out the politics and focus on the science. The politics are a huge part of transgender existence right now.

And I don't even know what to say about her giving credence to the "social contagion" theory. Her only evidence was a theory concocted by a single person. No studies. No peer review. When I was in high school, none of us knew anything about being queer aside from the existence of gay people. We'd never even heard the words transgender or nonbinary. And even my friends who were gay didn't even consider that as a possibility until they went to college. There just wasn't any information available to teenagers. All they knew was that something was different and they had no resources to help them figure out what that different feeling was.

Teens are not being infected by a social contagion, they just have better access to information. They can also find more support and acceptance in online communities. Not to mention any competent gender affirming care program will do extensive evaluations to rule out things like peer pressure or someone seeking attention. Contrary to conservative belief, they don't just throw hormones and puberty blockers at everyone during their first appointment.

She quickly discounted the left handed analogy because some gender affirming treatments have lasting effects. Which didn't make much sense to me. All that analogy is meant to explain is that teens are more comfortable with queer introspection and feel less pressure to repress said queerness. The huge increase in queer teens matches almost perfectly with the dawn of the information age.

She also said that biological sex is "simple" (it is not) and then handwaved the existence of intersex people as "rare." First, I think the number of intersex folks is undercounted, but also, they are just as prevalent as people with red hair. When there are 8 billion people on the planet, even small percentages add up to a lot of people.

It was just a mess of a video.

I am disappointed in what I thought was a cool science lady.

#transpobia

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sayakamaizonowrites · 1 year

Note

Hello :)

can you do a rantaro, hajime, and shuichi with a toy maker s/O who has really shakey hands? ❤

Sure! I have so much ideas with this one 🫶

Rantaro Amami , Hajime Hinata and Shuichi Saihara with an Ultimate Toy Maker S/O who have a Shakey Hands.

Rantaro Amami

He's amazed by your Ultimate and would like to see you making a toy himself.

Fortunately, while walking towards the school's cafeteria, he saw you making a toy.

He walked towards you and noticed something off.

Your hands was shaking rapidly and it's making you lose your focus.

It seems like you didn't notice him going to you because your eyes are focused on the toy you're making.

"S/O? Your hands are shaking... Are you alright?"

His voice startled you a little bit and almost made you drop the piece of the toy that you're holding.

"O-oh it's you Rantaro.. I'm fine it's normal for my hand to do this while making a toy.."

He sat beside you and decided to help you make the toy you're making.

He always reassures you that it will came out good.

And it seems like he's right, the toy turned out good after you both finished making it.

"I know that your'e good at making toys but I didn't expect you to be this good." "Well , you helped me after all."

Hajime Hinata

While walking towards the park, he noticed a familiar figure making something.

He walked towards the figure to make sure his guys we're right.

Right there on the bench, he saw you making.....a toy?

"S/O?"

Startled, you dropped the screwdriver you're holding.

"Ah! You s-scared me Hajime!"

He apologized many times for startling you and you reassured him that it's fine because it didn't broke the almost finished toy.

He helped you make the toy as an apology.

He almost broke the hand of the toy and decided to just watch you.

He still feel guilty for not being able to help and for startling you earlier.

He noticed that your hands are shaking while you're making the toy.

"Hey S/O san, are you alright? Your hands are shaking... Do you want to rest for just a little bit?"

You told him that its fine and your toy is almost finished anyways.

Amazed by the outcome and begs you to teach him how to make a wonderful toy.

You agreed but...teaching him was pain in the ass.

After a few toy making lessons he finally learned how to make a basic toy.

This baby is so happy😭🫶

"You're so good at making this things S/O, I'm hoping that your creations will reach the media one day."

Shuichi Saihara

He's looking for you in the hallways because of something important.

He immediately found you in the cafeteria because of his Detective Abilities (?).

To not startle you, he knocked on the cafeteria's door before going in even if it's opened.

"S/O? I have something important to discuss with you today, are you free at the moment?"

"Oh hi Shuichi, let me just finish this then we can talk."

Got curious about what you're doing then remembered that you're the Ultimate Toy Maker.

He decided to help you and walked towards you.

"May i help you, S/O?"

You looked up to him and agreed.

He doesn't know anything that much about toy making because he only watches Miu when she's making something.

While in the middle of making the toy, he noticed that your hands are shaking.

"S/O?" "Yes?" "Are you alright? Your hands are shaking."

You told him that's its alright and its basically normal for your hands to shake when making toys because of nervousness.

Reassured you that it will be okay and that you should think positive.

It proved that he's right when the toy turned out okay when you both finished making it.

"I won't be surprised when your creations become popular, with your amazing talent and skill, every toy you make will be recognized by everyone oneday."

Yay! Two requests done in one day :] hope you liked this one, 🫶

~ Mod Sayaka

#danganronpa x reader #hajime hinata x reader #shuichi saihara x reader #rantaro x reader #danganronpa x y/n #shuichi saihara #hajime hinata #rantaro amami #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa

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bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus · 10 months

Text

Bloodhound. (A Ghost x AFAB!Reader fic)

Act One, Chapter Six: Reluctant Admittance

Omg! Who is this?! I'm back and I'm bringing home the bacon! Exams are over and I have about of month of aimless wandering so… yeah :D. I'm currently in the process of decompressing and the effects of stress are finally manifesting after being dormant during exam season... yay.

I hope you all enjoy! I'm trying to get back into the groove so apologies for the lack of eventfulness. I'm also going to apologise for the fact that I very much got into my feelings writing this so brace yourselves.

We all know English is my mortal enemy (despite being my first language) so sorry for grammatical mishaps, I did do me best but things do slip under the radar.

Warnings: Heavy discussions surrounding trauma (particularly surrounding men- I know! I'm sorry!), heightened emotions, threats of violence and strong language.

You were staring at her like she had three heads. It was a tough decision to make: whether to push to continue this conversation or let Laswell be. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you rifled through the various outcomes you had predicted to the different things you could say. You hoped you could be sensitive enough to allow her to open up. She was the only one who understood what you had gone through and vice versa, and you prayed to find something else out of that other than the comradery that came with mutual suffering.

She looked right back at you, knowing full well you wanted to say something, the words dancing on the tip of your tongue, itching to be spoken but chained down by your desperate need to interact correctly. Sighing, she folded her arms and waited for whatever you had cocked and ready to fire her way.

“Kate,” you began, nervously fiddling with your fingers, praying you had rehearsed this enough times in your head for you not to falter over your words, “have you ever wanted closure? To just, maybe, talk it through with someone?”

Her face softened. She hadn’t expected that… Laswell had anticipated a lecture, a cliche roundabout diatribe which overstayed its welcome, a bout of preaching that was just the other person’s way of saying ‘get over it’. Sometimes things in your head are too heavy for others to handle, too sensitive, they can gross your mates out, and years of that had made Laswell feel like a freak, made her feel disgusting. Occasionally, she’d wondered if what she had gone through had ‘built character’, made her strong, and was the reason for her competence. She had cherry-picked what she liked about her time in the Foundation, the skills it had given her, and had repressed the rest. See enough people pale, enough people grimace, enough people stare at you with their mouths hung open, unsure of what to say, and it makes you feel awfully discouraged to be an open book. If Price knew what she had gone through as a teen, she was afraid he might see her no longer as a colleague but as something else. Something weak.

She drew in a sharp breath at the thought.

Men had an awful tendency to want to save, to protect, and seldom listen. Yes, it was a sweeping generalisation, but it was for her own protection. She was genuinely afraid things could change between them. All of them, in fact. 141, most people in her life, were best kept at a friendly but reasonably far distance.

Closure had been off the table for a while now.

“Y/N, these things are… difficult to navigate. Right now, it’s all fresh to you. You’re currently running about, hoping anyone, anyone, might hear you out, sit down, and listen to all your pains. You’re craving hope, praying that some guy out there can put your faith back into them…” She let out a shaky sigh. “No one out there ever sat down and listened to me. What we’ve been through is horrific, too much for people to bear. If you find that someone, I’ll be amazed and immensely happy for you but… let’s be realistic, Y/N. We’ll never get closure.”

She put her arm around you and drew you close to her, walking you both back to your beds. Mild anger bubbled away inside you, her infantilising, drab words leaving behind a sour aftertaste.

“We keep practical, and we keep vigilant. Remember that.”

“I get where you’re coming from, Kate.” You turned to face her. “But I don’t entirely agree with you. You and I both know that we’d kill for a confidante, and you could have one! You could have several if you wanted to! I bet you haven’t even tried having a conversation with these guys about your past.”

She sighed and shook her head, removing her arm from you, as you both entered the murky dark of the barracks.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Y/N.”

“Good night, Kate.”

With a slight pout and furrowed brow, you watched her make her way to her bed and fall into it, completely shattered.

***

You idly prodded at your porridge with your spoon as you did your best to avoid Laswell’s eyes. Soap and Ghost had taken you hostage, placing you firmly between the two of them, across from the CIA Station Chief, with the hopes that you’d start opening your mouth and agreeing with them and that would then lead to Laswell opening up. However, at the end of the day, it was two ordinary men up against an experienced lamia, and what they hadn’t quite caught onto yet was Laswell barraging your mind with messages of strong encouragement to keep quiet. It was extremely tiring, but Laswell thought it was the right thing to do and that was sufficient justification to keep going.

You swallowed hard, continuing to move your food around your bowl, watching blueberries you had once buried under the slop of oatmeal and milk resurface and sit atop their stodgy sea. The silence was so loud, your brain unable to think coherent thoughts as the buzz of underlying aggression filled your skull with apprehensive static. No one was explicitly angry, and that irked you. There was a conversation sitting here that was dying to be had, all someone at this godforsaken table had to do was spit a few words out and get the ball rolling.

Eventually, you found yourself glancing at Price, hoping that maybe the captain could put his authority to good use. The old man wasn’t an idiot, he knew something had happened last night which had yielded breakfast’s… painfully awkward results. Gaz could tell too, but, seeing as yesterday had been a bit rocky, decided it was best to not fan the already hot embers and bring about flames. Price brought his thermos to his lips, eyes narrowing as he watched Soap bore holes into Laswell’s skull. She was returning the favour, of course, sternly looking at the Scotsman, her lip turning upwards at the sight of him bringing you closer to his side.

Ghost was there too and was most certainly a presence that wasn’t overlooked. One could tell that he was positively fuming under that mask, taking a large bite out of his apple as he continued to try and out-stare Kate. The echo of his crunch reverberated throughout the canteen. Despite the backdrop of friendly chatter and clattering cutlery, any sound that came from 141’s table seemed to be thrice the expected volume. Perhaps it was the silence amplifying noise’s presence when she’d occasionally grace the group, or perhaps it was because they were exaggerating the volume of their actions to prove a petty point. Either way, Laswell was not going to go down. Period. She was going to ensure they’d stop their little investigation before it had even started. They didn’t need to know anything about her, bar that she was on their side and that was that. Anyways, it was not like she knew much about them! Especially Ghost. There was a double standard here. He could go about his business being all mysterious and alluring but as soon as he found out that there may be more to her than meets the eye… he felt betrayed like he was Caesar on the Ides of March, and Laswell’s newfound information was nothing but a poorly concealed dagger in his eyes.

“Right.” Price suddenly broke the silence, setting his thermos on the table. “What happened?”

No one spoke a word.

He chewed on his lip, taking a deep breath through his nose.

He looked at Soap.

“MacTavish, speak.”

Soap looked at Kate with a sneer.

“Laswell may be able to provide more information than meself.”

“Fine.” Price nodded, swivelling around to face the woman sitting beside him. “Kate, what happened?”

She shrugged.

“Ghost’s usually the most reliable reporter.”

Price muttered an exasperated curse under his breath, before turning to meet Ghost’s menacing glare.

“Lieutenant, you’re up. Tell me what happened.”

“I left halfway through; I think you should redirect your inquiry back to Laswell.”

Price grumbled to himself, stroking his mutton chops as he slowly looked back at Kate. Her lips were tightly sealed. The silence returned and Price allowed for it as he briefly contemplated on what to do. He could feel Gaz staring at him, awaiting his response to all this as he took a loud slurp of his tea.

“Okay,” the captain announced, “I’m not having any of this. Someone here is going to tell me exactly what is going on and that someone is…”

Like a turret spinning around to select its target, Price’s gaze shifted from Soap, to Laswell, to Ghost and then to you.

“Y/N, why are Soap, Ghost and Laswell eyeing each other like they’re in a Mexican standoff?”

You gulped, looking at all three of them for help on what to do next. Soap sighed and kept his eyes on the floor while Kate was shaking her head, hoping you would keep quiet.

And then, there was Ghost.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with him, knowing full well that he was staring into your soul. He cast a dark shadow over you, his company hovering ominously above as he, whether consciously or not, taunted you with his intimidating presence.

Oh, what do I do?

You chewed on your lip, covering your nervous gesture with your hand as you looked at Price for some form of encouragement.

The urge to spill the beans was building inside you, like a rising scream, making its way up your throat. From a logical perspective, it seemed like the right thing to do, for the benefit of everyone, seeing as 141 needed to be as together as possible in order to remain under the radar and you needed to not surround yourself with bloodthirsty lunatics coming for each other’s throats… for once.

You sighed, setting your spoon down, not even bothering to give it a parting gaze as it sunk into your porridge.

“Basically,” you began, much to Laswell’s chagrin, “Ghost and Soap found some of my, uh, things and it told them some stuff about myself that I wasn’t quite ready to share. It also told some stuff about Kate, here, that she also isn’t quite ready to… share.”

“But it is stuff we need to know,” Ghost added, folding his arms.

“Kate,” Price turned to her, softening his voice a little, “should you and I have a private chat over a cuppa?”

“It’s nothing, John.” She moved away from him.

Price looked at both Ghost and Soap.

“Did you boys have a scrap with just her or also Y/N about whatever happened last night?”

Ghost and Soap exchanged looks before Soap volunteered to speak for the both of them.

“We didn’t have a scrap, sir, we-”

“Was this just between you and Kate?” Price’s voice was harsh, and it took both Soap and Ghost aback.

Was… was he scolding them?

“Pretty much, sir.”

“Okay.” Price nodded to himself. “Suppose this gives me all the more reason to iron whatever the fuck happened last night out.”

That announcement was met with tense silence. Great. Just great. The captain was frustrated by everyone’s reluctance to cooperate, but he couldn’t deny that he was also surprised… particularly surprised by Kate. This was out of character for her, to be stubborn, slightly petty and begrudging: undeniably soldier-like. He turned to face her.

“Kate, if this is something serious enough to make my boys distrust you, we need to hear it. I can’t be having any infighting, especially given our situation.”

Was it that serious? You pondered on that question as you watched Price attempt to have a conversation with her. What had Kate said last night about them… about Soap and Ghost’s reactions?

“They’re just upset that I’m not satiating their curiosity. Anything and everything about me is ‘need-to-know’. And right now, they don’t need to know.”

Regaling her life’s story to them would be indulging them… and that was the last thing an ex-lamia would want to do, indulge them, especially men.

You understood that anger, the resistance burning away in her eyes: she was trying to cover an old wound that had just reopened.

They wouldn’t understand. How could they?

But you could.

“Kate,” you suddenly said, “I can tell them who I am. You don’t have to.”

Her face softened. “No, you don’t have to. I know you don’t want to. Y/N-”

You smiled.

“Kate. I… I can do it. I want to. If it’ll ease the tension, I’m happy to be an open book. I don’t want my baggage to jeopardise your pack- I mean, group.”

You could tell she disagreed with your diplomatic approach, because, though you had dressed up this action to be something which you were doing on your own terms… in reality, it wasn’t. It didn’t matter to you; however, this was what your life had been, this was pretty much all you had known. You had been bought and bred to be everything and anything the Foundation wanted.

She’d let you off this time, seeing as it was clear you were still shaking off your shackles.

Price was… pleasantly surprised to say the least. He gestured for you to begin.

Your heart was beating away in your chest at a rate of knots. All eyes were on you. How would you begin? How detailed should you go?

This could be your chance to prove to Kate that conversation about this worked. You could already feel, despite your slightly unsteady nerves, a part of that weight pressing down on you was being lifted. You weren’t some desperate little child, running around for someone to be your therapist like she had suggested you were last night. You were just brave enough to do something Kate was still working up the courage to commit.

You exhaled quietly and then opened your mouth to speak.

“I’m from a place that I can’t exactly disclose… Ugh! Fuck it! I’m from the Foundation. It’s a private facility that houses mercenaries and hires out soldiers like me. I’m what you would call a ‘lamia’. Lamias are an all-female class of soldiers. I have been in the Red Room programme for… over a decade. I’m equipped with the latest standard hepta-plate armour that enables me to stay indefinitely camouflaged… when in working condition.”

You chuckled nervously as you beheld a crowd of blank faces.

Oh no… They looked like they were expecting more. What else could you say?!

“My blood-source is from the… Kraus line. And, um… Oh! I’m the most recent model of lamia.”

You smiled, hoping that would be sufficient information. Soon, however, that proud grin on your face would fade as the faces before you looked either confused, horrified or simply both.

“Model?” Soap raised an eyebrow. “That makes you sound awfully like a machine.”

He pointed his spoon at you with curiosity.

“Err…” Your voice got a little shaky. “Well, that’s what I am. I don’t really… I guess I could say I’m the latest version?”

You could tell that wasn’t the response he wanted.

Price exhaled through his nose, the air whistling a little out of his nostrils.

“Y/N, you’re an escapee from this ‘Foundation’. Are the people there after you?”

“Most likely.”

“Will they be after us, too?”

“No,” was your blunt reply, “You’re regular military folks, they could care less about you provided you stay out of their way. But I can’t guarantee that which is why I’m not staying here for too long.”

It stung a little but, to Price, in a weird way, that was music to his ears. If the Foundation was feeling like it, like they didn’t give a shit about him and his boys and did not bother them, he could live with that. Although, something felt off about the way you had spoken, like you were an android, reciting a sales pitch to get a customer to buy you. He couldn’t deny the fact that didn’t sit well with him.

“So,” Gaz tilted his head to one side, “I’m guessing you’ve been at the Foundation since you were a kid?”

“Yep, ever since I was a kid.”

“Have you been… a soldier since you were a kid?” Ghost sounded uncharacteristically tender like he was almost reluctant to ask this question.

You nodded.

A shudder ran through him.

“I’ve been hired out since I was about… I want to say fifteen?”

That shudder ran through him again and looped back.

You smiled weakly, a little unnerved by the way he gawked at you.

“I’m assuming Laswell was in a similar position to you, now,” Soap remarked, hoping you’d confirm his assumption.

You looked over to Kate. She had a desperate plea written all over her face for you to neither confirm nor deny. Your eyes returned to Soap, who was clearly expecting some form of response.

“Err…” Your lip wibbled a little. “I… mean… You know what? I don’t know if Kate’s story is exactly the same as mine and I’m not going to speak for her. She can… she doesn’t have to… Um… She’s a good person and she’s on your side! Yeah! I…”

You were floundering! You were floundering big time!

Shit! Shit! SHIT!

“I don’t think it’s right for me to say.”

They all watched with puzzled expressions as you shrunk away a little. It was like speaking about a taboo at the family dinner table, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak for her, lest you’d vomit.

Soap shrugged.

“You mentioned lamias being only female,” Ghost muttered, before turning to look at you again, “Are there any male soldiers?”

Murmurings of approval from the group suggested that this was apparently an astute question. To you, however, it made you incredibly sick to your stomach for some reason.

“Oh God!” you blurted out, warranting a few chuckles from 141.

You smiled with them, finding some form of relief in the way they had taken that as a joke. Soon, although, curious silence would return and the burden of having to answer that question had wrapped its fingers around your head; beginning to slowly crush your skull, the pressure building with every passing second you left that question unanswered.

“Yes, there are male soldiers… Um…”

For some reason, you found tears pricking your eyes.

One rolled down your cheek.

You chuckled nervously, wiping it away. However, more trickled down. It was strange. You weren’t exactly feeling anything that was strong enough to bring about tears. And yet, here you were… embarrassing yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You did your best to keep smiling, catching as many tears as you could and swiping them away.

What’s wrong with me?

“Y/N,” Laswell began, reaching from across the table, “you don’t have to say any-”

“Kate, I’m-”

In the blink of an eye, Laswell got up and promptly whisked you away and out of there. Ghost watched your figure shrinking into the distance before you vanished round a corner.

Kate sighed and muttered to herself, shoulders slumping.

You were just like her. A tragic, shattered reflection which, if pieced together, would form her portrait. Every lamia was the same in that regard: the same story, the same stupid story. Enduring the same stupid things, doing all they could to avoid them, but still somehow, being unfortunate enough to end up hurt.

Price’s face screamed concern.

Soap looked over to Ghost, who just stared blankly at the table, feeling immensely guilty.

He had been selfish. Before she had left, he had caught Kate’s eye briefly and quickly avoided her gaze. What if she had been through something similar? He should have known better. He had thrown a pathetic temper tantrum, rolling around in his own trust issues when there was clearly something bigger going on here.

Eventually, everyone had left the breakfast table, the awkward silence growing too much. Everyone but Ghost. He sat there with his head in his hands. He had been there for a while, scolding himself for being an idiot.

“Simon.”

Ghost looked up to see MacTavish was back. He took a seat beside him.

“You alright?”

The lieutenant remained silent, shaking his head, sighing into his hands.

“Simon, you didn’t know. We all didn’t know. Gaz is proper beating himself up about this in the barracks.”

Once more, silence.

Soap bit down on his lip, peering around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Simon’s masked face through his hands.

“Mate, we’ve all been there. Asked the wrong question. It was just a mistake. I’ve done the same with you.”

“I know, Soap. I know.”

MacTavish moved to place a hand on Ghost’s hunched back.

“Have you seen Y/N? Are they okay?” Riley shyly asked, his voice muffled a little by his hands.

Soap shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard crying but…”

Ghost let out a heavy sigh, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Simon! It’s okay! I’m sure they’ll be fine. They probably know you didn’t mean anything by it. I heard Kate having a long convo with Price and it sounded fairly casual. We haven’t done anything bad. Just then or last night.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

Soap laughed.

“That’s a first!”

Ghost turned to him, batting the man away playfully. However, that melancholy feeling returned promptly.

MacTavish sighed quietly.

“I’m gonna go and check up on Gaz. See you in the barracks in a bit?”

“Yeah.” Ghost nodded, “See ya.”

***

“23, you can’t even balance the camera properly!” 72 chuckled, folding her arms as she watched the younger lamia attempt to precariously sit her trusty camcorder on a makeshift tripod of twigs.

“Trust me! It’ll work! Plus, if I make this throw, I’ll have a record…” 23 looked about before lowering her voice to a whisper. “… 89 said that she can keep the SD card safe from them.”

“You serious?”

She nodded, feeling rather smug. However, 72’s face grew dark, a gnawing doubt creeping in.

“What if you get caught?”

23’s smile was quick to fade. She looked to the ground.

“I hadn’t thought about that.”

72 shook her head. “You and I are so lucky we’re not in Unit 4. This shit wouldn’t fly. At all.”

“I count my lucky stars every day.”

“You better be.”

72 sighed to herself, flicking a couple of braids over her shoulder. 23 chewed on her lip as she returned her attention back to her camera set up, quickly jumping to steady the camera as it began to wobble again.

The older lamia caught the eye of Phillip as he was grabbing a blood canister from a duffel bag. They acknowledged each other and the large distance between them. After a few moments of slightly uncomfortable silence, 72 took her leave, crawling back into her tent.

Under the cover of her shelter, she let out a shaky sigh. The girl had forgotten that there was a monster under there, a ravenous, destructive monster. A monster which had almost taken off her younger colleague’s leg.

Phillip felt around for the dip in his mask and slotted the canister in place. Immediately, sweet, sweet vaporous placidity filled his lungs. The man had begun to get a little antsy and knew it wasn’t wise to face Valeria with a hair-trigger temper. He didn’t need to be killing their asset, after all.

He didn’t need to be confronted with a botched job. Not after this second chance. Graves rose from his knelt position on the ground and marched up to Valeria.

“So,” he began, kneeling before her, “any ideas on how we’re going to infect our target?”

“Well, if I’m administering this through a bite, I need to get close and I also need the virus if you want me to-”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He looked down to the ground, shuddering.

“What?” Valeria asked.

“Why’d you have to… you know? I didn’t get that when they made me… this.”

She giggled to herself.

“My dear,” Valeria spoke with a condescending tone, “the Foundation clearly wants this man to turn quickly. I’ve seen it all before. My blood, combined with the filth running through your veins will… ensure their victory.”

Phillip nodded to himself, feeling absolutely revolted inside. And so, he was quick to change the topic to his initial intention for this conversation.

“Didn’t you mention that the Vaqueros are aware of you breaking out of jail?”

Valeria grinned. Her jailbreak was incredible. It was always exhilarating, to be the one with the power. Unlike now.

That had been beautifully done, well planned and really allowed her to have some fun. She had even managed to use those gifts from the Foundation, stopping a poor guard’s heart with her mind, though it did take a lot out of her. As Valeria reminisced, she realised something: lamias were extremely powerful. A mind was at the mercy of her. Think the right thought and someone could be seeing their throat closing up, their own body betraying them, pledging allegiance to her.

She could bend him to her will.

As Valeria looked at him, at that blank mask whose polished surface beheld her reflection, she saw herself pale. That damn uniform made every single one of them look exactly the same. If she looked hard enough, through the layers of armour, she could perhaps make out his face and those eyes.

Had they changed colour yet?

Had they lost their humanity? Lined with black? Had his irises expanded, leaving only slivers of sclera?

Was he fantasising about tearing out her throat right now?

Valeria’s lips thinned into a resigned grin.

No. She wouldn’t be able to get into his head. It was too risky. Press on the wrong part of the brain, induce the wrong impulse and she would find herself torn apart by a very angry wolf.

That was the problem with Arcadian Sons. They were always, somehow stronger.

Fuck you.

“Do you think you’d be up to… provoking them?”

“How so?” Valeria raised an eyebrow.

“We know 141 are obviously hiding out with the Mexican Special Forces. Get Alejandro to put you where you can reach Ghost.”

She couldn’t help but sigh.

“So, you want me to get captured?”

“We’ll get you back out, don’t you-”

SLAM!

A knife went flying and lodged itself in the bark, merely centimetres away from Valeria’s face. They both halted in their tracks, staring at the weapon, shivers of shock taking their time to subside.

Following the course it had taken with his eyes, Phillip’s gaze landed on the figure of 23. Her hand was over her face.

Shit!

Phillip sighed and got up. He reached for the knife, pulled it out of the bark with disturbing ease and then began to make his way to the girl.

23’s eyes grew wider and wider, her heart in her mouth. She wanted to run but was petrified in place. Phillip grew nearer and nearer, his armoured body looking bigger and more intimidating than ever. That knife was in a sure grip, and she watched, breaths growing shallow, as it swung in time with his stride. She shrunk away under his shadow, scrunching her eyes shut. The girl raised her arms in a helpless flinch.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t aiming for you or the asset, I swear! I-”

“Here.”

Huh?

She looked up at him, confused.

He groaned at the sight of her looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Begrudgingly, Phillip took her hand and placed the knife in it.

“Don’t do that again. Go back in the tent, please.”

His voice was incredibly stern.

She nodded, taking the knife and dashing to grab her camera.

“23!”

The lamia froze, slowly turning around at the sound of his voice.

“Those aren’t made for throwin’. You gotta be an expert in order to get those to land where you want ‘em.”

She nodded.

“Go in the tent. I’ll call you and 72 out when I need y’all and when the boys are back.”

Holy shit.

Valeria watched him walk back towards her, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

What was his ploy?

***

You sighed, staring at the bowl of porridge you had left behind from breakfast. Sitting on the doorstep, the view of the woods just beyond the base directly in front of you, you took a spoonful of your food and tipped it back into the bowl. Tired eyes watched the viscous mixture of milk, oatmeal, newly added honey, and berries drip back into its container. You never thought it’d be so exhausting having to comfort someone, it made you feel guilty how fatiguing it had been to ease Laswell’s tears.

It hadn’t even been an hour since breakfast, but it had felt like aeons had gone by.

You didn’t even bother to acknowledge who had come down to sit beside you.

“Hey,” Ghost greeted, awkwardly placing his hands in his lap, hoping you’d notice that.

He did his best to make himself as small as possible, slouching a little on his perch on the concrete step. You smiled politely before bringing a spoonful of porridge to your mouth, hopeful that your stuffed face would give him a reason not to talk to you. It wasn’t that you were angry with him or anything, it was just that you weren’t really in the mood for conversation. You felt a little delicate right now and knew that you’d very well be crying again like you did yesterday. Shame sloshed around inside your skull. It was stupid to cry. You weren’t a little kid anymore.

Adults don’t cry. Lamias don’t cry.

You kept your eyes ahead, staring into the abyss of wood and leaves, wondering if the howling you had heard last night was anything to be worried about.

Ghost looked over at you before sighing to himself.

Then, he decided to just bite the bullet, put the words into his mouth and speak.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He began, consciously trying not to sound as gruff as he usually would. “I should’ve seen you were getting uncomfortable and not pressed further.”

Shyly, he looked over to see what you made of his apology.

“It’s okay,” you said, still staring ahead, “It’s not that I was reluctant to answer, I just… I don’t know.”

Ghost nodded, studying you closely. You looked tired, very, very tired, as if you had never experienced a proper rest before. He dreaded to know what you had gone through. However, he also could tell you wanted to say something and get the words out properly, on your own terms.

“Do you…” He did his best to be as tentative as possible. “Do you want to talk about something?”

You nodded.

“I feel like I should talk about stuff. Kate thinks it’s useless, and I think maybe even embarrassing, but it’s not embarrassing, is it? Opening up about past baggage?”

“No,” Ghost replied, “I mean, when it comes to my past, I find it difficult myself, but that’s because I struggle with, um… articulating how I feel about it.”

“Maybe Kate’s the same…” You speculated, scratching your chin in thought.

“Could be. Could not be.” Ghost shrugged. “Everyone’s different.”

You set your bowl aside and leaned forward, cupping your face in your hands.

“I just feel like Kate’s the only person I can talk to, but now it’s like she doesn’t want to talk to me about lamia stuff, about the Foundation.”

Ghost understood the pain you were feeling. Everyone needs that one person to vent to and he had that in Soap and maybe… maybe you could have that in him?

Worth a try.

Yes, you wouldn’t be here for very long, but he knew it would help you big time regardless. He wasn’t a monster and sure, he may be a little cold and stoic at times but if Ghost would want something to be remembered by it was that, despite it all, he was kind. He was good at his fucking job, he was efficient and he was a good man.

“You could talk to me if you like. I know I already offered before but I’m serious, you can talk to me.”

“What if you don’t get it? What if it’s too heavy for you?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You sighed, drawing your knees up to under your chin.

“Some parts I may not understand. But I think you’ll find; I may be able to relate to quite a few things.”

You tilted your head to one side.

“Really?”

“We’re both humans, after all. There’s got to be something we both can understand about one another.”

Human.

‘Human’ made you sound like you and Ghost were alike, were one in the same kind. It was weird. You had always been taught that there were men and everyone else. The default and the other.‘Human’ was a word that was advertised as an umbrella term but was really only reserved to describe a select few; and you had been told time and time again, either outright or from what you learned and what you read, be it through diagrams in biology textbooks, language, literature and more. Proper humans, studied humans, humans who could be understood and cared for were not who your kind were.

A shy smile crept onto your face and you watched Ghost’s eyes crease, suggesting he too was smiling under that balaclava.

#bloodhound fic #cod mw22 #cod mwii fic #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #cod mw2 werewolf au #ghost mw2 #phillip graves cod #simon ghost riley is my little comfort man #my little comfort skull man... who kills people... for a living.#um anyways

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