#realised i hadn't done anything from this fandom

[likesdoodling]

Doodles :D

#the apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi #kusuriya no hitorigoto #jinshi x maomao #jinshi and maomao #maomao fanart #yeye #jinshi fanart #hehehe #doodles #realised i hadn't done anything from this fandom #for a while #ya know? #which i wanted to fix #so i did #:D #i kind of have a rotation thing going #about which fandoms i do fanart for #in what order #yknow? #like #i like a lot of different things #so i do a little bit of everything #but mostly from aoab and bsd honestly #with the occasional apothecary diaries and other stuff #i like jinshi and maomaos dynamic a lot #:)

[smittenroses]

Hi I just saw your blush blush headcannons for scale and Cole and I loved them! Might I ask for Cole and Seth with an s/o that easily gets overwhelmed? If that's hard to write for you that's fine I just wanted to ask

— "I'm here„

Fandom — Blush Blush Featuring — Cole and Seth Content Warnings — love bombing (Cole), skin picking (Cole), panic attacks Author's note —

— Cole

Cole knew everything about you, he knew what you liked, what you disliked, what you feared, he knew what you liked to do as a hobby, where you worked, but nothing ever prepared him for the first time he saw you be overwhelmed in person.

So absorbed in his love for you, he didn't notice that it wasn't... always a good idea to be showering you with this affection.

He should've noticed it sooner, he should've realised that you were slowly not being yourself, but, as the things piled up and his affection for you became a bit too much. It didn't help that there was other things that had happened that day, but... Cole did not make it any better.

Standing in the doorway of your bedroom holding a mug of your favourite drink, Cole's entire body was frozen as he stood there, watching the way your body trembled and shook with sobs.

Calling your name, Cole's heart shattered into a million pieces as he saw the fear, the anger, all the emotion spew from your face before it was nothing, your body slumping onto its side as Cole dropped the mug, no doubt staining your carpet as he dashed in to your side.

"Hey, darling, what's wrong?"

"You. It's just too much."

Now, Cole wasn't prepared for that. He was prepared for you knowing what he had done, knowing that he had killed people for you, but he wasn't prepared to think that he had made you like this.

He sat beside you, listening to you as you began to spew out everything that had happened; working with the other men who had been cursed, work, him, It was like a punch to the gut as he sat there.

Slowly exhaling through his mouth, Cole began to pick at the skin around his nails; he didn't know what to do, he didn't know what he should do since he hadn't exactly grown up in the best home, in fact, his family situation had been worse than this - his father had broken his mother beyond anything he could ever think to do to you. She wasn't even there mentally to tell him she loved him.

He loved you, he wanted to show you he loved you, but, if you were becoming overwhelmed with him being there? His fingers were bleeding and he shoved them into his pants to hide them as he turned to you.

"Tell me what I need to do to be better."

"Well, you can stop breaking into my home..."

Things became a bit easier to deal with once Cole had figured out how to give you personal space. He didn't stop breaking into your house, though.

— Seth

With Seth, there's a constant murmuring of voices in the back of your head. He couldn't help it, it wasn't his choice to have them be there constantly, and it wasn't his fault that they were particularly loud to you when he was nearby.

You could tolerate it enough to be around him - from summoning demons with ketchup and mustard to having to romance a dragon and sleep with a vampire to help turn them back to humanoid forms, it was a ballpark.

But it didn't help they were a constant presence in the back of your mind over time, even when Seth was away.

Now, Seth heard the voices too, he lived with them, the damned souls that he had reaped and they had chosen to stay with him, tormenting him for the rest of time, but, when Seth had noticed that your face seemed to be ashen and your eyes sunken, Seth knew something was wrong.

It was a little nudge, a silent question to ask if you were ok and you broke down in front of him. It was a good thing that it was a quiet forest area with nobody around, but Seth couldn't help but jump back when the noises grew louder. Mocking, laughing.

"Enough!" The voices fell silent as Seth spoke in his natural tongue, for once, the world falling quiet as he knelt beside you, sheltering you in his hoodie as he watched your body shake.

Humans could only withstand so much but this was beyond the limits, Seth pushing the hair away from your face as snot dribbled down. Even with all the things you had done, the trials you had gone against, beating him at his riddles and even taming mythic beasts of old, he had to remind himself that you were still human.

"You need time to cry?"

Demons aren't good with the whole emotions thing, but he'll sit by you and let you get your feelings out either way.

You're his, after all, he needs to make sure that you'll be ok.

#x reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #blush blush x reader #blush blush game #blush blush #blush blush cole x reader #blush blush cole #blush blush seth x reader #blush blush seth

[lilbeanz]

Hello! Not an ask, just wanted to say I adore your content; you're so skilled. I came across your art first, and the drama of even the smallest panel; I'd been eyeing JoDT & sequels for awhile because it was a WIP, but I caved and binged bks1-4 in about three days. I reread the "Eat your heart out Pureblood society" scene at least once a day, thank you for that, superb execution. I also really liked, in the first book, the interactions between Malfoy & Harry, and the very gradual "well, he's our friend now." The development of their friendship has done a great job of re-defining the characters and their relationships. The series feels like its own thing, and the fact that Ginny never even had the diary in book 2 only cemented that. I've really appreciated the deviation from Draco-the-tortured-hero/Draco-making-amends (which I also love to read). Horrors of the Heir was a great twist and really put the whole series in another tier, tbh. CoS was like, my least favorite of the series as a kid (alongside GoF, which has grown on me as I read fanfic) and your version of bk 2 easily established the micro-obsession of your series for me. Also, Crabbe & Goyle?? "They're actually really good friends"?? "Just to see if we feel anything"?? Adorable. Obsessed.

tldr; Your rewrite of the series is incredibly unique, and I admire how you've really taken the series and made it something completely fun and new and modern 💜💜💜

Looking forward to the rest. Thank you for sharing!

AaaAaaAaaHhhHhhHh?!??!?!

This is such a lovely comment, I can't even -- I -- I'm --

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying the series so far! It really has been such a challenging, fun project!

I adored writing the "Eat Your Heart Out" scene. People tend to forget that Draco Malfoy is canonically *very* dramatic when he wants to be. Yes, he can be sulky and scheming, but he also shouts taunts across the courtyard, and puts on scenes to make older students laugh at Harry’s expense, even going so far as to dress up as a Dementor to make his "rival" lose in Quidditch.

The Horror of the Heir was such an experience for me as the author, because CoS is my favourite book from the series (weird, ik) and looking back, I sort of realise I could’ve squeezed in so much more. But last May, 45k was a HUGE amount of words for me! And now I'm churning out 100k like nobody's business 💀

✨️Growth✨️

And speaking of growth, the reason I had Draco take Tom Riddle’s diary was purely because of growth. It would've taken him far longer to change as a person if he hadn't taken Ginny's place. A pivotal character development moment, as he reflects on his upbringing etc...

Crabbe and Goyle generally get overlooked in the fandom, and it really bugs me. Vince dies canonically, yes, but I absolutely love it when fic writers incorporate Greg as an actual character in post-war fics, and acknowledge that Vince was Draco’s friend.

It's always Blaise, Pansy, and Theo because they're intelligent and societies definition of "attractive." I mean, each to their own of course, but I could write an entire essay on the injustice I feel for Crabbe and Goyle!

And then, of course, the development of Draco’s relationship with the Golden Trio, specifically Harry. Just -- Ugh-- these silly kids make me so unhinged!😂

It wouldn't be all sunshine and rainbows to begin with. Of course it wouldn't. It's a rocky start, with bumps along the way (and more big bumps to come), but I really do love the way I have progressed their relationship, and I'm not even gonna be humble about it! I really do love my own fic!!!

All this to say, thank you so much!!! I realise fix-its are a very popular type of fic to write, but I really do try to keep it as fresh and unique as possible, so the fact that I really am able to give my readers an experience means the world to me💖

#lovely lovely people #asks and replies #jodt #journal of dreadful things #lilbeanz #💖💖💖💖

[fateinthestars]

Star-Crossed Myth Fluffbruary FanFic (2nd Feb): Surprise Picnic (Dui/MC)

Title: Surprise Picnic

Fandom: Star-Crossed Myth

Genre: Fluff

Rating: T

Pairing: Dui/MC (MC’s name left blank so you can fill it in with whatever you wish in your head)

Word Count: 939

Written for Prompt: February 2 : engagement | scent | jam for @fluffbruary

A/N: Set after Dui's Promise of Infinity story. Spoilers for Dui's route.

February 2nd: Surprise Picnic

Dui smiled to himself as he checked over the basket of food once more. He hoped he hadn’t forgotten anything from the article he had seen about picnics a while back. If he had he could technically summon stuff later but once they were on their date he wanted it to be completely normal. He would have done everything without powers in the first place but food preparation took a lot of time and at least a part of him wanted to make sure he spent as long as possible with his wife.

His smile widened at that thought. It was not long since Heaven’s Rift had enabled them to actually get married, and this was actually the first time since then he’d been down on Earth long enough to do something for ___ . They’d occasionally spent some time together in the Heavens, and even the occasional evening at the Mansion, but he couldn’t remember the last time they’d been on a full outing.

Hurry it up, if you keep reminiscing like this we’re gonna waste the time we do have with ___, then you could have made this stuff in the first place.

Alright, we’re going, Dui reassured his other side, before picking the picnic basket up. 

***

When ___ opened the door to her apartment after hearing someone knock, her eyes widened in surprise. “Dui! You didn’t mention being able to come here at any point this week!”

Dui smiled softly at her as he stepped inside. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” he murmured gently, but as his hand caressed her face his eyes widened and he grinned, “‘Sides, I wanted to surprise you. Go get ready.”

“Ready?” ___ asked, frowning a little.

“What do you think this is, dummy?” Dui teased, nodding to the basket on his arm.

___’s eyes widened. “We’re going on a picnic?”

“That is the idea, yes,” Dui muttered, then looked down as his expression faltered into one of unease. “Unless you don’t like them or it’s somehow a problem.”

“No of course not!” ___ tried to reassure quickly, hugging her husband. “I’d love to go on a picnic with you. Just let me find something a little warmer to wear.”

***

Later, in the park, they both sat down on the picnic blanket that Dui had laid out. Wrapping an arm around ___ , he lifted the lid of the basket with the other. The sweet aroma of cherries filled the air.

___ leant her head contently on his shoulder with a smile, not at all surprised at the type of food he had packed. She picked up a sandwich filled with cherry jam whilst Dui cut himself a piece of cherry pie. 

They then talked for a while about their work week whilst enjoying the food.

“...Don't you want to taste anything other than cherries?” ___ asked him after a while.

Dui put the plate of fresh cherries he'd been eating from down, a mischievous expression crossing his face. “Well there is one thing,” he answered, before pulling her into a deep and loving kiss.

Dropping her glass of cherryade in surprise, ___ blushed deeply and pushed him back a little. “Dui, we're in public.”

“Meh, who cares?” He grumbled with a pout. “Besides, I can't see anyone.

Looking around, ___ relaxed a little as she realised there wasn't any activity elsewhere in the park, then blinked as she realised the light was fading. “How long have we been here for?”

“I'm not sure,” Dui murmured, smiling softly now. “Does it matter?”

“No,” ___ murmured, “I was just surprised it was getting dark already. We're not going to be able to see much soon.”

Dui sighed. “Oh you're right…” He hadn't wanted to use any powers whilst with her but there was still something he wanted to do. Deciding that spending time with his wife was more important than not using his powers, Dui snapped his fingers.

The sky lit up with brightly shining stars. 

___ looked up, smiling brightly at the sight, but then glanced at him with slight worry. “Won’t other people notice?”

“I’m sure they’ll just think it’s an exceptionally clear night. Just for a little bit won’t hurt.” Dui then looked away from her.

“Dui?” ___ asked softly, taking his hand in her own. “You seem distracted. Was there a reason why you wanted to stay out here a little longer?”

“I… well…” Dui mumbled, suddenly feeling rather awkward, worried she’d think this was silly. 

We’ve been through this. Do I have to do it myself?

No!

Taking a deep breath to relax, Dui looked back up at ___ and smiled warmly, before getting a small box out of his pocket. 

___’s eyes widened. “Wait… but if that’s what I think it is, why…”

“I’ve been reading up on human customs,” Dui murmured softly, squeezing her hand. “We’ve already done the one in the Heavens but you’re still living down here. Remember when we were mistaken for Newlyweds? I’d like that to happen down here and we can actually say that it’s right.”

“... Dui…”

Dui opened the box to reveal a ring engraved with the Gemini constellation on a silver chain. “I figured this was best as you already have the ring from the fountain on your finger but… ___, will you marry me?”

“My answer to that will never change,” ___ responded, her voice barely a whisper in case there was anyone else around. “Yes. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Placing the chain around her neck, Dui then pulled her close into a tender embrace before kissing her.

#scm fanfic #star crossed myth fanfic #scm #star crossed myth #scm dui #dui x mc #fluffbruary 2024

[sheetsonfire]

Your Hand In Mine

Fandom: Chicago PD / Chicago Med

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem Reader

Genre: romance, fluff, drama

Warnings: fainting, sickness, pregnancy, hospital tests

Word Count: 5153

katehalstead34 asked: Hello, do you think you can do one where Jay Halstead is dating Reader who is about 23 years old and Jay is about 37 years old that the two of them have been in a relationship for 2 years and in the precinct they already knew her when Reader goes to visit when she arrives upstairs and she greets everyone and spends time with them until when she gets up to leave she gets dizzy and everyone notices that and when they get close to her she faints and jay catches her in time for her to fall to the floor and everyone gets worried and Jay quickly He picks her up and takes her to the med and asks her brother to take care of her and they discover that she is about 3 months pregnant

A/N: I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to alter the ages just a touch, reader is 26 and Jay is 37. I just wanted the reader to be a little bit older when they met :)

-

Sometimes it was hard for the Halstead brothers to agree on what to watch at the movies, often one of them if not both would get picky about the accuracy of an injury, a fight scene, a chase…anything that involved medicine or crime made it difficult to enjoy something for what it was. However, on one such night, they had put their pickiness aside and decided to enjoy a night out together, one that wasn’t just them being slugs on the couch watching hockey and drinking beer.

That’s how they had found themselves in a midnight screening of The Conjuring two years ago, a screening that you happened to be at with your boyfriend of the time. You hadn’t paid too much attention to the two brothers at first, giving them courteous smiles as they shimmied past you to get to their seats. You had caught Jay’s eyes briefly, noticing how pretty he was even in the dimmed light of the dark room, sitting back down as you caught a whiff of his aftershave - something you silently enjoyed to yourself.

The thing was, despite being with your “boyfriend”, that particular relationship had been on its last legs, at the age of 23 it was a fast track to learning what you should and shouldn't accept in a relationship.

You had come to realise that Damian only enjoyed being with someone for the purposes of emotional control and someone to do his bidding, two things that you had had just about enough of. In fact, you had plans to break up with him the following day, simply using this one last outing to have someone to go to the midnight screening with.

However, almost 30 minutes into the film, you were on your last nerve when Damian, for the thousandth time since the adverts, had pulled out his phone to look at a text and answer whoever was on the other end.

You gave him a slight elbow to the ribs and glared at him, it was obvious what the issue was and yet he simply returned your look with disgust and incredulity. It only added to the sinking feeling that in the last few months he hadn't just been preoccupied with friends, it was almost certainly someone else on the side.

So there you were, sat in the dark of the theatre, begging your companion to put the phone away and stop drawing attention to the both of you. You had already thrown an apologetic smile Jay and Will’s way, to which they had returned awkward understanding looks, knowing it wasn’t you committing the social crime of poor phone etiquette during a movie.

You had leaned over to quietly hiss in your boyfriend’s ear, “Damian, stop it, it’s rude.” 

And much to your surprise, Damian snapped, right there in the screening, he returned with his own hissed whispering, “You know what? Fuck this film and fuck you, Y/N, you don’t tell me what to do, bitch. We’re done. Walk home.”

With that, your ex-boyfriend got up from his chair and stalked off back out of the double doors. There were a few hushed remarks of “Thank god for that” and “Finally” from behind you, and you had slunk a little into your chair in embarrassment, your heart pounding with anger that he had a) humiliated you and b) took the chance to break up with you first, instead of the other way round.

You hadn’t dared to look in the direction of the brothers who were still beside you, instead choosing to lose yourself in the movie once again. Jay occasionally side glanced in your direction to check if you were okay, you had been unable to stop a few stray tears but other than that you reigned in your reaction. He was feeling terrible for you, that you had been abandoned like that, whoever that guy was he was a jackass and it made Jay’s blood boil.

It had got to the point in the film where the eldest sister had caught her youngest sibling sleepwalking and banging her head against a wardrobe, after tucking her sister into bed she heard the knocking again. Only to realise that now, with her sister beside her, there was nobody visible to be causing the wardrobe door to knock repeatedly. Investigating closer she hears her sibling gasp from the bed and watches as she looks upwards, the older girl follows her sister’s gaze, only to be met with the horrifying sight of a possessed, grotesque, looking woman. The music swells into a crescendo, and the sharpness of the sound is startling. It makes the audience gasp and you jump in your seat at the revelation, subconsciously snatching a hand out to grasp onto the stranger next to you, clutching Jay's arm desperately.

As quickly as you’d grasped onto him, you had instantly released him, whispering an “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”, feeling yet again the heat of embarrassment crawl along your skin. You had been about ready to abandon the film yourself and call it a night when a warm hand had clasped gently over yours.

It had immediately felt safe and reassuring to have this stranger hold onto you, and you had relaxed somewhat, heart still skittering as his eyes met yours in the dark. There's a soft murmur of “It’s alright.”, and he squeezes your hand, resuming looking at the screen. You dare not linger your gaze as you fear you might never stop looking at him,

Jay lets you squeeze every time something made you jump or made you tense. Occasionally he would rub his thumb over the back of your hand and the flames would reignite in your stomach. It most certainly wasn’t how you expected the night to have continued.

From there it was history, you had been brazen enough to actually talk to him after the credits had rolled and the lights had come up, truly taking in the handsomeness of his face, a kindness that you had never really seen in Damian’s eyes. Will walked ahead with a smile as he let the both of you have a second to talk. 

“You okay?” Jay had asked. 

“I am…I think, thanks for…uh, well you know.” You sort of gestured to his hand, letting out a small awkward laugh which had Jay chuckling too. 

“Don’t mention it, that guy you were with was an asshole if you don’t mind me saying so.” His face darkens and you couldn't help but feel a rush at the protectiveness you could see Jay had. 

You smile, feeling vindicated that Damian was the loser in this whole debacle. “I don’t mind you saying so.” 

Jay smirks, suddenly remembering one very important thing, “I’m Jay, by the way.”

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you properly, Jay.” 

You had offered your hand again for him to shake, and both of you had giggled at the officialness of a handshake, still relishing the warmth of each other all the same. 

You had been offered a ride home, something you had gratefully accepted, not before asking to take a photo of Jay’s ID and Will’s to send to your friend Dara. It had amused the brothers, but they were also in praise of you. You understood why once they had revealed their occupations, it made sense that they were used to people not exercising caution in their lines of work. 

Relief washed over you as you sat in the comfortable passenger seat of Jay’s SUV, spotting his badge sitting in the centre console. You really hadn’t wanted to figure out a way back to your apartment in the literal dead of night after seeing a horror film.

Jay rolled to a stop outside your apartment block, there was a final exchange of numbers, and then Jay had taken your hand one last time to squeeze gently, promising to “See you around, Y/N."

You had given Will a cheerful wave too, watching as the two brothers disappeared into the night, leaving you to assess what the hell had just happened.

That was three years ago, and now you and Jay had been together for almost two years, with your 2nd anniversary right around the corner.

-

This morning had been like any other at first, you had woken up to find that Jay was already at work, having sent you a text when he got to the District. He had been loaded down with a particularly slow-going case of late, and you had done your utmost to reassure him that you understood when his schedule got complicated. 

However, this morning you couldn’t shake your need to be with him for a little while, you had not long been awake when you started to feel hot, anxious and lightheaded. You didn’t know what the problem was, with no symptoms the night before to speak of. You figured that maybe some fresh air and some lunch with your boyfriend could ease your inexplicable unsettled feeling.

You called ahead to Trudy Platt’s desk, checking that it would even be an appropriate time for you to visit, she had assured you that, yes, Detective Halstead could be available…Provided you also brought lunch for the desk sergeant. That could be arranged, and with a smile on your face at Trudy’s bargaining you had hung up and set about getting ready for the day.

The journey on the L Train had been okay, with only a few hot flushes here and there, and a small bout of nausea when you’d caught wind of someone’s breakfast next to you. It had taken everything in you to focus on breathing and take small sips of your water to not cause a scene on public transport.

Visiting Jay was going to be a surprise, so you took your time in picking something good from the deli, throwing in a few extra snacks, salads, smoothies and other bits for the others if they wanted to join in too, accumulating a small bounty that also included Trudy’s lunch.

You carefully balanced the load as you walked down the street towards the 21st, relishing the cool breeze on your face you were able to forget about the constant turning of your stomach and the woozy sensation in your head.

Finally, the steps were in sight and you thanked the patrolman that held the door open for you as you entered the building, moving towards Trudy’s desk. She looked up at the sense of movement and her eyes lit up when she saw you, “Ah, the angel arrives, just in time, I’m starving and your boyfriend seemed a little hangry the last time I saw him.” 

“Nice to see you too, Sergeant. Here we are…” You hand her a loaded baguette, the side of fries and the smoothie you’d got for her, grinning as she admired the selection with gratitude. 

“If only Chuckles bestowed such gifts upon me, there’s a reason you’re my favourite out of the pair.” You shake your head in amusement, internally wincing as the motion causes a sharp pain that you do well to conceal in front of the sergeant. 

“It’s an honour to have that title, Trudy. See you later, alright?” You tap her desk in departure, picking the rest of your food back up as you start heading toward the gate, Platt buzzes you up and with that, you’re ascending the stairs to the bullpen.

As you get to the top of the stairs, you’re relieved to see everyone is engrossed in their work, giving you a second to let your vision clear as you feel the world tilt ever so slightly, swaying on your feet until everything comes back into focus and you can step forward. 

Adam is the first to turn around, breaking out into an excited smile as he gets up to help you with the bags, “Hey, hey! Look who it is, how’s it going, princess?” You roll your eyes at the nickname, Adam really loved to treat you like a little sister and though you wanted to seem unphased by it, it made your heart warm. You smiled at him, thanking him for the help and explaining what was inside for all of them.

“She is a gift.” Kevin grins, bringing you in for a tight hug, thanking you for lunch. 

“Hey guys, how’s it been?” You smile, moving around the room as you hug Kim and Toni too, waving to Hank who was on the phone in his office. 

The others are about to describe how slow it’s been, but a voice comes from behind a cabinet. “These young ones complain too much.” Al appears from nowhere, standing up from his chair as he comes to hug you too. “Nice to see you, kiddo.” He smiles a small smile and you squeeze him extra tight, you always did like Al, he was a fatherly figure without question.

“Nice to see all of you, sorry it’s not going as fast as you’d like.” You shrug, sympathetic but not empathetic to their plight. You worked at the daycare inside Chicago Med, toddlers were always on the go and you rarely had the chance to see anything as slow.

“Come and sit, tell us what the snot monsters are up to these days.” Adam quips, and Kim playfully smacks his arm for not being tactful in his question, you snort at his phrasing.

Finally, after everyone’s got their attention and food from you, including Voight, you move to sit by Jay. He smiles brightly at you, thoroughly surprised and glad to see you. “I didn’t know you were coming.” He hums as you greet him with a kiss on his cheek, returning the gesture as he shifts to hold your waist for a moment, he’s warm and inviting, and you finally feel steady. “Good, you weren’t supposed to. Trudy told me it was a good time, so I thought I’d bring replenishments for the troops.” You wink, settling down as you trace your fingers over Jay’s back, letting him tuck into his own food as the others chatter about what they’ve been up to. 

Your boyfriend sits half on his desk, letting you take his chair, you feel that somewhere in the conversation your body has taken the opportunity to feel shakier than it had before, the smell of Jay’s lunch isn’t doing much to help. He glances at you as Kevin is in the middle of a story, quietly asking why you didn’t have lunch too. You explained you already had something before you left, which was a lie but you didn’t want to worry Jay about feeling off. If he suspected a lie he doesn’t press the issue, nodding as he thanks you again for his own food, kissing the top of your head.

Mercifully, Jay finishes eating relatively quickly and you can breathe again when he’s done, feeling your nausea somewhat subside as you yourself share some funny anecdotes from the daycare that has everyone both entertained and disgusted at once.

-

Lunch comes to a swift end, the time has flown past when you realise you should let everyone get back to work, you were surprised Hank hadn’t tried to disperse the social call yet. 

You stand to step towards the others to say your goodbyes, but to your dismay, your stomach twists, the smile on your face drops as you feel the blood rushing in your ears, hot prickly heat that washes over your skin is what prompts you try and turn to your boyfriend. 

Jay can see the fading look on your face as your body disconnects from your brain, “Are you okay-...Hey, hey, Y/N?! Honey?!” The next thing he knows is that your legs are giving out, and he darts forward to catch you.

You’re out within seconds, slumping awkwardly into Jay’s embrace as he manages to hold you and cradle your head, gently lowering you to the floor as the others move toward you with concern.

Your boyfriend slowly turns you on your side, bending your leg so you’re in a supported position.

“What happened?” Voight’s voice comes from behind, having seen the commotion from his window.

“I don’t know, she just turned to speak to me and then it was lights out.” Jay answers, eyes still fixed on you as he cups your cheek gently.

Al wanders off into the break room to fill a glass of water, and the others can do nothing but wait for you to wake up.

“Y/N, wake up for me, sweetheart” Jay tries.

You feel gravity get a hold of you again as you start to come to, it’s an ocean of voices murmuring as your head still spins, your vision slowly returning. Jay’s worried expression comes into view, a soft relieved smile gracing his face.

“Jay…wha-” You wince, your nausea still simmering in the background. 

Jay stays sat beside you, rubbing your back softly, “Hey, it’s alright, I’m here, you just fainted… Is there anything you’re feeling right now?”

You blink drowsily, “Uh…embarrassed.” You murmur, trying to sit up but feeling the world spin, "And dizzy."

Jay steadies you, supporting you against him, “Hey, just take it easy, just sit for a second, alright?” You hum in acknowledgement, leaning against Jay's chest as he tries to assess you.

"We should take you to Med and get you checked out," Jay says sternly, not liking the way you close your eyes, willing the queasiness to stop. You were trembling against him,

"Jay, really, it's fine, babe. I just should have stayed at home, it's my own fault for ignoring myself..."

"You felt like this before coming here?" Jay asks, concerned but trying to not be too hard on you.

"Yeah, I'm sorry... I just thought seeing you and getting some air would make me feel better...and it did until it didn't..."

Jay’s about to say something until he realises you’re flagging again, eyes fluttering as you start to lose consciousness for a second time, 

He gently lays you down on your back again, cushioning your head with his jacket as Kim puts her hoodie under your feet, trying to raise your legs a little. Jay keeps his hands on you, watching with worry as you try to not pass out, 

“Y/N, it’s alright, I’m right here, baby.” But it’s too late, you feel the world fade and you’re gone again.

Jay looks up at the others, stopping at Hank, “I’m taking her to Med.” 

Hank nods in the affirmative of course, he wasn’t going to protest getting you seen to, “Let Al take you, she’ll need you with her.” 

Al immediately steps forward, moving toward the stairs, “I’ll bring the car round.”

Jay murmurs a “Thanks, man.” as he looks back down at you, rubbing your chest gently with the heel of his palm, “Come on, sweetheart, open those eyes for me.”

You feel like you’re floating from beneath water to the surface as you awake for a second time, realising you’re on your back again. Reaching out for Jay’s arm to ground you, looking at him with a slightly more anxious expression.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” You mumble, trying to find some clarity in your fogged-up mind, 

“Al’s gone to get the car, we’re gonna take you to Med and get checked out. Just stay there until we need to move, honey.”

He can see you’re ready to protest, not wanting to inconvenience anybody, “Hey, it’s non-negotiable, alright? We better be safe, and I know for a fact I wouldn’t forgive myself if you stayed here or at home and something worse happened.”

You want to try and wriggle out of the trip, but you instead sigh in defeat, admitting you were worried about what could be wrong. So you nod slightly, “Okay…” 

“Thank you,” Jay murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead, you smile softly, wanting to burrow into Jay’s embrace where you felt most safe.

Eventually, he helps you sit up again, this time you take slow sips of the water Al had left for you, trying to reassure the others you were fine but not really convincing yourself.

-

You sit tucked against Jay in the car, he had basically carried you down the stairs with Trudy giving you both a confused and worried look as you passed. Al took the time to explain very briefly what was going on before following you and Jay out the door.

The world passes by in Al’s car and you wonder what could have triggered the two fainting spells, nausea kept coming and going, and you just weren’t sure what exactly was causing the trouble.

Very briefly a theory crossed your mind, but your cycle was notoriously erratic and you were sure you had some light days of bleeding in your recent memory. The thought drifts past and you reconcile with the fact that until you get some tests done, it could be any number of things.

Jay’s got an arm wrapped securely around you and you trace your fingers over the palm of his hand as you sit in silence, too tired to do anything but feel the presence of your boyfriend soothe your weak body.

“You with me?” Jay gently inquires, kissing the side of your head, 

“Mhm, I am…” You smile at him, sharing a soft kiss before Al clears his throat, informing you both of your arrival at Med.

-

You sit in the waiting room for a while before your name’s called. Jay had suggested he try and find Will straight away, but you had reminded him that it wasn’t an emergency per se and that you didn’t want to be treated specially because of his brother, more than happy to wait like everyone else. To which he had replied rather insistently, “You are special.”, which made you giggle quietly but you weren’t one to be charmed that easily, not even by Jay.

-

Eventually, you’re sat in a cubicle resting against the bed, Monique taking your vitals and asking a few preliminary questions before both Will and Natalie appear. 

“Hey, Y/N, normally it’s my brother concerning me in here.” He smiles and you laugh a little, 

“Sorry, Will, my turn today I guess.” Both he and Natalie greet Jay as they come to stand by your bed, your boyfriend moving to the corner of the room to let them do their thing.

“So, what’s been going on?” Will asks, and you find it weird to see him in total doctor mode, the same going for Natalie whom you usually saw in social settings. 

“I woke up this morning feeling queasy, a little hot and anxious, I thought going to see Jay and getting him some lunch might clear my head and I could get some fresh air. I felt nauseous on the L, and then I felt off a few times at the District, I didn’t think much of it. Then I got up to head back home and that was it, I just couldn’t stop myself from passing out, and it happened a second time when I tried to get back up.”

You glance at Jay, you can see he’s upset that you didn’t fully disclose just how rough you’d been feeling, guilt pangs slightly in your stomach. Natalie’s voice brings you back from your thoughts,

 “Y/N, I’m just gonna get a feel of your stomach, test a few responses, Will’s going to check your pupillary response and listen to your heart, and breathing, is that okay?” 

You nod, “Yeah, that’s fine, of course.” Taking a breath as you follow the instructions, “We might do some other tests and scans based on your answers and your responses to our exams, is that alright?” Will queries, and again you nod. “Do what you need to, I trust you.”

You glance at Jay again, eyes searching his for some comfort, he smiles like he did that first night you met, the smile that said “I will protect you and make sure you’re alright.” The silent gesture makes you settle down a little more, knowing no matter the outcome, you would be okay.

-

Eventually, the questions, the poking, and the prodding come to an end, and your blood and urine samples are completed and sent away for analysis. You’re left to sit in your cubicle with Jay now sitting beside you.

“How are you feeling now?” Your boyfriend looks up at you from where his head was pillowed on your thigh, your fingers had been scratching lightly through his hair, soothing his scalp. 

“Mhm, still a bit weird, but not as nauseous as before.” You stroke his cheek, taking in his loving face for the thousandth time, the electricity of the first time still sat in your chest as an undercurrent, but now at the forefront was a sense of knowing and security.

You and he had come so far in the last two years, you had a job that you loved and a home with the man you felt would be part of your life for the rest of it. You felt a trust and understanding with your boyfriend that you’d never experienced previously, and you had seen Jay become more grounded and reflective of himself, happier within his work and home life. It was something you cherished, even more so now.

Jay takes your hand and kisses it, “I’m glad you’re doing better, you scared me at the district.” 

You half snort, trying not to tease too much, “Jay Halstead? Scared? That’s not possible, is it?” 

He shakes his head with an eye roll, chuckling softly. “Hey, I am not above the more uncertain range of human emotions, especially when my girl is dropping like a sack of potatoes into my arms.”

You sigh, lamenting the lack of control you had back at the 21st. “I tried to turn around and tell you before it happened, but it’s like my brain just snapped off like a light switch.” 

Jay frowns, once again remembering your symptoms weren’t sudden, “You should have told me you were feeling crappy, honey, I could have taken you home.”

“I’m the one who decided to come and surprise you, I really thought getting out would help me feel better, turns out your handsome face isn’t a cure-all.” You wink, yawning as you shift in the bed.

Jay kisses your leg, holding on to your arm as he looks at you with a wry smile, he wondered if you really knew how much you made his head, heart and stomach spin. He huffs out a small laugh, “Who knew, my powers aren’t as strong as you thought.”

Just as you’re about to speak the door opens, and you and Jay turn to see that Will and Natalie are back. You can tell by their faces that there is news, and your stomach clenches with nerves, wondering what the tests might have shown. 

Will is holding a smart tablet, scrolling through what you assume is your file, and settles on the portion that he wanted.

“So, the tests came back, there’s nothing to cause us concern or need for immediate interventional action…” Will stops, glancing between the two of you, seemingly searching for an answer he’s not getting from either of you.

“But?” Jay prompts, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Will glances at Natalie, and she smiles, resting a hand on your arm, “Y/N, we just have to check, are you okay with Jay hearing what we have to say?”

Confusion falls across your face, you glance from Natalie to Will to Jay, reaching to hold Jay’s hand again with a squeeze, reassuring him that you trusted his presence.

“Of course, Nat. He can hear whatever’s going on.”

Natalie nods, smiling at Will again who appears to relax a touch, giving him the encouragement to proceed.

“Okay, so the blood and urine samples confirm that you, Y/N, are 3 months pregnant.” 

You blink. The grip you had on Jay’s hand tightens, not even daring to look at your boyfriend just yet.

“Pregnant.” You state, not even a question, just a simple repetition of the word bouncing around your startled brain.

“Pregnant,” Will confirms, a brightness in his eyes that he attempts to mask as he doesn’t know what you nor his brother are making of the news.

Natalie rests a hand on Will’s back, “Do you need a moment, just the two of you?” Natalie asks, and you nod immediately. She smiles sympathetically, knowing first-hand just how monumental this news could be. She presses her hand gently against Will, ushering him to exit the cubicle and carefully close the door as you and Jay are left to the revelation hanging in the air.

When you finally pluck up the courage to turn your head, Jay’s eyes are glistening and you can see the excitement blooming on his face.

“I-... I’m pregnant.” You utter, fear and euphoria swim in tandem inside you, 

“You’re pregnant.” Jay whispers, 

“Are you…do you?” The question is so vague as to not make sense, but before you can put some other words in the sentence Jay is nodding. 

“Yes, if that’s what you want, I want it too…I-... Y/N, I know it’s not what we had planned right now, but if you think you’re ready for this, then I’m ready too.” 

Your eyes brim with tears, and you could not feel more loved at this moment, “I am terrified of childbirth, Jay…But if I was ever going to have a child, children… I’d want it to be with you, that was never in doubt.”

Jay keeps his eyes on yours, never flinching from the words that he speaks, “Sweetheart, we don’t have to do anything right now, okay? We can think about it, we can discuss it for as long as you need to, I’ll be with you every step of the way and whatever you choose, I’ll be beside you to make it work, to keep you safe and healthy.” 

You’re fully crying now, so relieved that Jay didn’t automatically demand you be happy or deadset on following through, and that alone made you more confident and assured that having a baby with him would be every bit the blessing you felt it could be.

You lean down, pulling Jay’s face gently towards you as you kiss him, “I think I could do anything if you’re with me, Jay. I want a baby with you, our baby.” Jay’s arm moves to wrap around you, standing himself up so he can move in closer, his other hand shifting to tentatively rub your stomach as you both excitedly giggle between kisses.

Jay leans back, the joy on his face is infectious, taking your hand the way he had that first night you met. “Our baby, Y/N. I love the sound of that.” 

-

Fin.

@katehalstead34 - @dumb-fawkin-bitch

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd #chicago med #one chicago

[positivelybeastly]

Is the krakoan era X-Men the most unlikable interation of X-Men?

"I - don't think that's fair to say about them. From what I understand, they put all of their hopes on the establishment of a new country, joined everyone together under one roof, and then . . ."

He'd never seen anything like it. The sheer amount of carnage. He didn't even know most of the people he'd seen being torn apart in the footage, but that hadn't stopped him wanting to throw up when he'd seen them being . . . God, and then, when Bobby . . . he'd dragged his hands down his face and wanted to wail.

Who could do that to Bobby of all people?

The short, glib answer is that Chuck Austen's run of X-Men continues to exist, so by default, no-one can be as unlikable as them.

But the long answer is that the Krakoan X-Men aren't really the X-Men for a lot of that era, and, in their hurry to enjoy the fanfic-esque tropical island paradise setting that Krakoa presents, the fandom forgets just how . . . weird, and culty, the island actually is.

Hey, do you wanna know something semi-embarrassing about me? I only read House of X yesterday. I've only ever read the finer details on other Wiki pages and the occasional plot synopses, never actually read the issues themselves, and . . .

It's fucking creepy, man.

I had an instant negative reaction to the weird shit to do with resurrection, and I just, was not comfortable. The way Cyclops was all creepy about Franklin Richards, acting like they have more claim on him than his actual birth family? I'm sorry, dude, that's fucking whacked out.

Like, I'm sorry, I think that mutant sovereignty is an absolute must and a mutant nation is a narrative necessity, but Krakoa's been fucking creepy and weird and cult-y since moment one.

The weird rituals about resurrection, the whole dying in combat to earn your powers back bullshit, the vilification of Scarlet Witch, everything that went down in LaVelle's Sabretooth books, the Quiet Council and X-Force (full stop, just - in general), the casual sex leading to popping out babies you just LEAVE ON THE FUCKING GROUND?

It's a fucked up society. It's dystopian. You conquered death, and guess what? That never ends well. Suddenly you have to redefine life's meaning, and they chose to make it just fucking around and being weirdos, and, like, sure, that's a mood, but it's also not particularly heroic, and it's very significant that it takes a while for the X-Men to reform as an actual hero team because, well, they decided to give up on protecting a world that hated and fear them for a bit there.

But that's in-universe. Out of universe?

They just aren't putting in the time to service the relationships between the characters properly, and a lot of the time, when those moments do happen, it's become extremely clear that almost everyone on Krakoa is a self-obsessed narcissist with increasingly toxic levels of coping with it.

Think about Kate Pryde just completely fucking flubbing her chance to spot that Piotr Rasputin was under mind control, think about Storm just fucking off to Mars and abandoning everything on Earth, think about what happens to Orphan-Maker at the end of Hellions, think about LITERALLY EVERYTHING to do with X-Force - this is not a healthy society.

And that's a good story.

But it feels like at some point, they just kinda forgot about the fucked up shit and decided nah, this is just paradise, this is great, let's sand off the edges. Like, when Jean tells Firestar to just throw X-Force Beast under the bus to make her cover better during the Hellfire Gala, it's read by so many people as this girlboss OMG SLAAAAAAY moment, but . . . you . . . guys do realise that, like . . . that's fucked up, right? You do realise what that moment means?

"You should invoke Beast's reputation as a butcher of humans and a genocidal maniac and a massive lying piece of shit, WHICH I KNOW ABOUT AND HAVE DONE NOTHING ABOUT, and in fact, I'm going to validate his work because it's useful to me now!"

Like, X-Force Beast would tell Jean that she did EXACTLY the right thing in that moment, would welcome it, compliment her on her cunning, and if that's not a sign that you fucked up, that your moral priorities are completely and utterly fucked, then I don't know what to tell you, man.

#vinial453 #verse: I wait to wake #outofmuffins

[mitskook]

a very mitskook 2023 wrap-up

hi everyone

so i didn't write very much in 2023, that much is apparent. now i'm not gonna sit here act like that's a massive loss considering the vast amount of extremely talented writers that produced wonderful work this year, but i am still disappointed in myself from, i guess, a labour of love perspective. i look at the work i have contributed to the fandom over the years and i still have more i want to add, more stories i want to tell (trust me the wip folder makes me weep too).

but every time i wanted to write, the idea of making a love story made me so miserable i had to scrub it from my head. and worse, when i pushed past that obvious discomfort, the love in those stories soured into resentment, rage, and a cruelty i couldn't justify (to this audience at least). particularly with tsdverse, this next installment is about m'boys really grappling with conflicts that have no easy answers (if they have answers at all) and man am i so fucking glad i wrote that flashforward with heejin to keep a north star on where they would end up because if i hadn't, i would've completely shattered them in a misdirected fireball of righteous grief. im glad i had that to hold on to bc i haven't had much else.

my 2023 has been. uh. trying amongst the good stuff (and i promise there was some good stuff) but not this. my mum had a heart attack, i was fired for not coming back to work straight after her surgery, and i was couch surfing and unemployed for long enough i felt like i'd wrecked my life forever. and, of course, i was mourning my relationship that ended at the end of last year, and to be honest i'm still not done with that. that's the absolute joy and misery of tying your heart to someone you're hoping will be around forever: your eyes don't see anything the same anymore, certain songs that come on shuffle make you break down on the tube, you realise huge swathes of your social media presence, including ao3, were built for one person and it wasn't you, and now? all those things are monuments to the emptiness you feel every time you remember they're not in your life anymore.

to be extremely clear, i'm not blaming my ex for these feelings, and if anyone harasses them on my behalf i will personally hunt you down and gut you with a knitting needle, but in missing them as much as i do i realised how inextricable they were from my writing process. i mostly wrote fic to make them happy, to hear their praise and notes and excitement to read the rest, and that was unfair on everyone; me, them, and you (if you look forward to my work, i don't wanna presume lmao). that's too much pressure to put on someone who just wasn't interested in bangtan rpf anymore, and that's normal, it's okay to move on from that, but it meant even before the breakup i didn't know who i was doing it for anymore. that level of directionlessness (<- not a word but whatever) gummed up those creative gears until they had no choice but to stop.

anyway to maybe cap this pity party a bit, i want to start sharing my writing more on here, and i won't wait for people to clamour to let me know that that's wanted bc again, i need to start rebuilding my confidence in my writing and feeling out where i fit into this community after basically silently moping around for a full year. i want to sincerely thank everyone who's ever read my work. i won't promise to do anything but my best, and in the meantime i'll give all the snippets to you.

lots of love

zeeb "hyperlight" mitskook

[lost-in-frog-land]

Separation Anxiety

(a Generation Loss dæmon AU)

Fandom: Generation Loss: The Social Experiments, His Dark Materials

Word count: 1802

Warnings: kidnapping, torture, major character death, brainwashing, injury, descriptions of blood

Let me know if I missed anything!

when Ranboo woke up, the first thing he did was look for his daemon. Everything hurt, a dull ache that pounded in all, but he barely noticed. He barely noticed that they had no idea where he was, or how they'd gotten there. All he registered was this... fuzzy sense of panic, the vague feeling that their daemon might not be there. That she hadn't been there when he'd last been conscious. His heart stopped when they noticed that she wasn't with him on the couch. The couch that wasn't theirs, in an unfamiliar room. Ranboo looked down and locked eyes with the red squirrel sitting opposite them. His daemon. She jumped into their arms, and he felt a wave of relief wash over them. That didn't last long.

The next thing he noticed was how raw their connection felt. It felt like someone had carved into his chest with a blunt knife. Like they'd been held too far apart for too long.

************************************

when the mask turned on, Ranboo felt a sharp pain in the back of their head, and in his chest. He looked at his daemon, and found that she wasn't moving. just staring blankly ahead. Like she'd been switched off. They tried to say something to her but found he couldn't. He couldn't speak, or move. No, he was moving. Still walking around the room, their daemon following, almost robotically, behind him. It was like their legs were moving of their own accord, and his daemon had been programmed to follow. It didn't feel as frightening as Ranboo supposed it should. He couldn't really feel much of anything actually.

************************************

"My name is... Ranboo?"

That didn't sound right. They tried again.

"Ranboo. And this is..."

He realised with a kind of dull horror that he couldn't remember her name.

"...My daemon"

************************************

The man on the table was screaming. His stomach was open. His blood was on the table, on the floor, on Ranboo's hands. Ranboo was screaming. What was happening? How did they get here? Everything hadn't felt this scary a minute ago. The man wasn't screaming or bleeding a minute ago. The man didn't have a daemon. The man should have been dead.

************************************

The man in blue had run away. Sneeg? Was that his name? That didn't sound like a real name. Then again, neither did 'Ranboo'. He'd run, in any case. Or tried to. Ranboo could hear shouting outside. Maybe they should run too. They felt like he should care more about what was happening. The guy- Sneeg- was back. He was being dragged in by masked guards. He was yelling.

"Where am I? What is this sick place? Where's my daemon? What have you done with her? What have you done to me? LET ME GO! NO!"

he fell silent as a mask was placed over his face. Something he had said stuck in Ranboo's mind. Where was Sneeg's daemon? Come to think of it... they looked at the rest of the people tied to the carousel. The guy who kept talking about his pet fish, the woman who wouldn't stop crying, the scared looking man who kept insisting he had children, none of them had daemons. How did none of them have daemons? Why hadn't he noticed until now?

************************************

Ranboo could see everything. The mask was off. It felt like a fog had been lifted from their mind. His daemon seemed to wake up, moving naturally for the first time since that awful moment in the cabin when the mask had first come on. He still couldn’t remember her name. She started to move towards the exit and Ranboo followed, taking in the sights with a mix of confusion and terror. It looked like a mall. They were in a mall. What the fuck was going on? What...

"What the fuck is this place?"

************************************

Ranboo was trying to walk Charlie through everything that they knew. Which was admittedly not a lot. It was hard because Charlie kept staring at Ranboo's daemon, which was unsettling. Not only did Charlie not have a daemon, but he seemed to only be superficially aware of the fact that he was supposed to have one. It was awful. Ranboo had to fight back a wave of nausea every time he looked too closely at Charlie's daemon less self. It was like talking to a man without a head. A ghost. Or an animated corpse.

************************************

"I grew up... in a cabin"

Ranboo felt sick. Everything was going to hell. Hetch was dying, and Charlie still couldn't remember anything.

"What was your daemon's name?"

Ranboo watched Charlie go pale when Hetch mentioned his daemon. He went completely still, except for a slight tremor in his hand. It barely even looked like he was breathing.

"I don't... I don't remember. I don't remember her name. I cant picture her at all... where is she... why don't I know her..."

Charlie let out a strangled cry, and Ranboo instinctively put his hand on his own daemon. How long had Charlie been without his daemon? Ranboo didn't want to think about it. He had to focus on stopping them. Whatever Showfall were doing, had already done, to him, to Charlie, to everyone. it was going to stop today. It had to.

************************************

It was over. They'd done it. He'd pressed the button. Hetch's 'killswitch'. Showfall Media was no more. Ranboo was a hero.

He didn't feel like a hero.

They stood in the doorway, staring into a camera that probably wasn't even running. Exhausted. They took a bow. A final "fuck you" to whoever might still be watching this thing. There was nothing else to watch. This sick little show that Showfall Media had created was over. Ranboo had made sure of that.

It suddenly felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. All the air left his body. They knew, without turning around, that somebody had grabbed his daemon. He felt sick. Someone was touching his daemon. The feeling was quickly followed by an intense pain in his chest. She was being pulled out of his range. He tried to follow, to catch up with his daemon, to make the pain stop. They could barely move. Their legs started to buckle, then collapsed under him. He felt his consciousness fading, vision blurring, going dark. Then there was nothing but pain.

************************************

When Ranboo woke up, the first thing he did was look for his daemon. He could feel the, now all-too familiar, tugging sensation that meant she was being held just outside of their range. Not enough to kill him, or even knock them out again. Just enough for it to hurt. Their eyes locked onto a small form, crouched in the middle of a wire cage. The cage was big, far too big for his small daemon. It made her look tiny. Fragile. His ears were ringing. It felt like his chest had caved in, the pain was almost unbearable. They could taste blood. He tried to move their arms and was met with even more pain. He realised for the first time that his hands had been impaled. There was a mess of blood and wires protruding from each wound, and more wires pinning their arms and waist to the wall. His head was framed on either side by metal spikes. The spikes were coated in something thick and dark brown. He didn't want to think about what it was.

"let me go! Please I don't... what's happening? What is this?"

"It's a test Ranboo. An experiment!" Hetch's voice. Broadcast from speakers that Ranboo couldn't see. "To see whether or not you're worthy of joining the future shows!"

Ranboo's stomach dropped.

"I don't wanna go on the future shows. I don't wanna do any of this. please. You can just let me go right?"

"I'm afraid that's not an option Ranboo." Hetch's voice was cold. He kept talking but Ranboo wasn't listening anymore. They were looking around, desperate, frantically trying to see a way out. Every time he moved it hurt like hell.

"What do you think audience?!" There was a camera just above the cage his daemon was in. There were still people watching. People were watching this. Why weren't they doing anything?

"Should we let him live on, in the future shows, forever! Or should we end this one with a BANG!?" Hetch was enjoying this. He could tell, the tone of his voice was practically gleeful. Ranboo couldn't believe he'd ever trusted this man. He felt sick.

"So... so what happens to me..."

"Well, if they pick the live option, you'll be re-cast, repurposed in the future shows for as long as we see fit! Of course, there are some... terms and conditions. Certain requirements for becoming a member of our cast."

Something clicked in Ranboo's brain for the first time. Everyone else, all the other 'cast members'. None of them had daemons. So that meant... They looked up. There was a blade, like that of a guillotine, suspended in the air about a meter in front of him. It was sharp, and silver. Unlike the spikes, it was spotless.

They were going to cut his daemon away.

He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was still screaming. Begging Hetch, the audience, anyone, to let them go. Now though, he stopped. Let out a little cry, thick and wet with his own blood. This was it. They were either going to die here, or have his soul cut out. Forced to live on as a soulless puppet, manipulated and controlled by these people who had taken everything from him. A terrible ultimatum. A choice that wasn't even his to make.

Everything hurt. Ranboo, eyes wet with tears, mouth full of his own blood, stared into the camera, and did the only thing he could think of.

"LET ME DIE!"

Ranboo didn't want to die.

"PLEASE JUST LET ME DIE!"

But it was better than living like this. Living without his daemon.

"I DON'T WANNA KEEP DOING THIS!"

He still couldn't remember her name.

"LET ME DIE!"

Maybe when they were both gone he would remember. Maybe then they could be together again.

"Looks like the audience has made their decision Ranboo! Are you ready to hear it?"

He looked at his daemon. Trying to focus through his tears. Whatever happened, he wanted her to be the last thing he saw. Through the pain and the fear and the sickening smell of his own blood, he could feel her presence. It was comforting.

"The audience..."

Not long now. It was almost over.

"Has voted for you..."

One way or another. It was almost over.

"To die."

Relief. The sound of a metal box slamming shut. Blinding, white hot pain. Nothing. Ranboo's body went limp. The squirrel in the cage was gone.

#can't write anything except super painful genloss fics apparently #I love combining two of my interests into something that maybe three people will care about #generation loss #genloss #his dark materials #hdm #genloss spoilers #fanfiction #my writing

[oftincturedwords]

Title: Ties Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Star Wars : The Bad Batch Rating: T+ Chapter Warnings: ¡Spoilers! Crying , Grief/Mourning , Implied Canon Character Death , Angst , Nightmares , Explicit Nightmares , etc. Characters: Crosshair & Omega Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort , Brother - Sister Dynamics , Holding Hands , Crying , etc. Timeline: Based off of Star Wars : The Bad Batch series three trailer ; scene with Crosshair & Omega in cells beside each other Pairings: Gen. None. Word Count: 3034 Overall Summary: Crosshair doesn't allow his gaze to drift towards the cell next to his, the open slates between them allowed him some view of the entrance and within the cell the kid usually occupied. It was too great risk for familiarly to be used as leverage against them. But he can't remain distant when he knows something is wrong. Chapter Summary: Crosshair wakes in the middle of the night to hear Omega crying. He tries his best to help. A/N: These ideas just sprang to my head once I heard of the scene between Omega & Crosshair in the Star Wars Celebration trailer , thus add my apparent enjoyment of causing turmoil for my favourite characters , I couldn't help but write this ficlet up. I wrote it & the next chapter ( which will be posted in a few day ) up in a single night because of the inspiration so here's to hope it's coherent & in-character as I think it is ! Thus consider this a small collection of interconnecting one - shots of Crosshair & Omega whilst they are held on Tantiss. If more ideas come to mind , the chapter count will go up & the tags will be updated. I have no beta this all mistakes are mine. Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Star War : The Clone Wars & Star Wars : The Bad Batch. Neither am I associated with Lucasfilms , Disney+ , nor any of the actors who portray these characters. I make no money off any of my stories , this is purely for entertainment purposes. Read On : ao3 | under the cut

Wakefulness came instantaneously to Crosshair. Much like the times when on a mission he would be woken to take his turn of the watch, a near silent whisper of his name from one of his brothers and he was roused enough to fight if it had been needed. The instincts and habits born during combat, or from combat training, hadn't lessened any in the countless weeks he had spent as a prisoner. For his eyes were open and mind alert before he knew exactly what had woken him.

Drawn from the depths of sleep by the softest of out-of-place noise. A breathy, hiccuping sound that was familiar in the sense he had heard it before. Although the memory of it was distant, it had happened years ago in what seemed like another life, and any recollection was immediately dismissed when it registered that the stifled crying was coming from the kid’s cell.

Tensing at that realisation, Crosshair listened a moment more to the muffled sniffles and shallowly exhaled sobs from the cell directly next to his. They were quiet in a way that was deliberate and purposefully, yet desolate and grieved sounding to the point, he knew there was nothing the kid could have done to stop crying altogether. They were the tears of the emotional wrought, which never heeded logic nor yielded to restraint or threats, they wouldn't stop until they were spent.

Normally, Crosshair would have left the kid alone. He knew he wasn't good with words of comfort at the best of times and the barrier separating their cells, despite the slats that were vented through the durasteel and allowed them to see into each other’s room, it still physically barred any actions of comfort he could offer. Not that they had much to offer in way of amenities anyway, but he could have at least added his blanket to hers or sat beside her until her tears ran dry as he had done before for his brothers.

However, he wasn't sure if it would even work for her if he had been able to do that.

But after what had happened only a handful of days ago, Crosshair wasn't going to leave anything to chance with the kid if he could help it. Just because he thought he knew why she was crying didn't mean he could be wrong, he had been intimately shown that he could and had repeatedly been wrong before. Thus he, quickly yet equally as quiet, turned on his cot until he was laying on his belly and could look towards the apertures between their cells.

The lighting was dimmed to the point of blackness, aside from the red glow the shielding of their cell entrances gave off, but Crosshair had zero issue with seeing that the kid was sitting up on the bunk. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and she had her head buried into her folded arms, all but consumed by the sole blanket they had all been issued that she had lain and tucked over herself.

He could visibly see the blanket shift with every hitch of her breaths and jolt of her small frame. The greyed fabric quavered with the strength of her trembling in-between every jarring sob she fought to restrain and quiet.

“Kid.” Crosshair called out in a whisper, which caused an instant cessation of the repressed sobbing and a stillness to overcome the kid as if his voice had physically froze her on the spot.

Seeing such a reaction had Crosshair’s lips twisting moreso into a frown. The response had been a fearful one, instinctive to the point it was nearly innate. Although, he wasn’t surprised at it given how Kamino raised its clones and their current situation as captives to scientists of even less compassion than those who bred them to begin with. It felt wrong to see, and sparked at that bitterly simmering anger that always burnt within his chest.

“Crosshair?” Came her choked whisper, thick with tears and broken between the syllables of his name, as if she had spoken in the middle of a sob, whilst she tilted her head up a fraction to see over her arms and from under the blanket she had draped over her head.

“What is it?” He asked in way of an answer, his voice a sibilant murmur.

His words again had an instant effect upon her. And he could only watch as she swallowed back another sob, a pair of crystalline tears falling from her reddened eyes and slipping in twin rivulets down her already damp cheeks before she shut her eyes tightly and shook her head in the negative repeatedly. Dropping it back into her arms whilst her whole body shuddered, he heard her give a gasping breath that was only muffled by how vehemently she was pressing herself against her mouth to silence the noise.

The split second all that had taken to occur had sent a lancing of panic through Crosshair’s chest. His mind involuntarily conjured up the images of days prior and brought forth the very same helpless terror he had felt then, thus he’s shoving down his blanket without caring where he lay and throwing his legs over the side of the bunk to get up in the next instant.

Soundlessly crossing the short expanse of the room in hardly the time it would take to breathe his next breath, Crosshair came up to the adjoining wall of their cells that held a small space between it and the end of his bunk that he could crouched down by yet still see through the lower ends of the open slats on the wall. It was less conspicuous to any passing guards if they happened to walk by or check the cameras since it would afford him the sparse few seconds to return to his bunk or appear to be anything other than talking with the kid.

He moved automatically, an ingrained habit to conceal and hide that hadn't left his muscle memory from the years he’d spent in the main barracks on Kamino before he and his brothers had been given their own privately shared quarters. Yet if something were dangerously wrong with the kid, his secrecy wound proved unneeded for he would ensure the guards brought medical up and to her if she needed it. After last time, he doubted he would have to make much of a racket to get them to obey.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his harsh whisper laced with a steeliness that sharpened his tone, the underlying of heightened concern was buried beneath its acerbity.

The only answer he received were the chocked sounds of her muffled weeping.

“Omega.” He called, an urgency within the sole whisper of her name that held every ounce of worry and tension he was feeling.

“‘M not hurt,” She finally answered after a stretched handful of moments, her words a tad garbled by her tears but understandable enough, “Or sick. Just, just had a nightmare.”

Crosshair felt himself practically wilt against the wall before him, a relief it wasn't anything more serious and potentially life threatening washed over him with an immediacy that left him feeling shaky. But he simply breathed out the stress of the last several minutes in a muted exhale, willing his mind away from the images his memories held of a few days ago.

Pausing only a moment to contemplate her words further, nothing physical was wrong, but it didn't make her distress any less. It'd been a few years since Crosshair had helped any of his brothers with nightmares of this extent. Since leaving Kamino they had all dealt with them differently than they had as cadets, never alone still, unless any of them professed the want to be alone after them.

But it was more of waking them if they couldn't on their own, then offering a sip-pack of filtered water and sitting nearby until the haunting images faded enough for them to return to sleep. If sleeping again wasn't an option, then staying up till the terror or ill feelings weren't so pressing. Or so Crosshair had always done. He wasn't one for many words, nor comfortingly eloquent, and so he didn't offer much assurances that way. Actions usually spoke louder than words anyway.

Thus Crosshair simply turned around from where he knelt and shifted so he could sit down, cross legged with his back against the thin openings between their cells.

Leaning his head back against them, he quietly turned to sit on the durasteel flooring. It's coldness seeping through the fabric of his trousers to chill the flesh along his legs and arse, but it was negligible and not an unfamiliar sensation since he had camped out on the deck beside bunks and berths multiple times throughout his eleven years of life. Slept even on worse surfaces.

He couldn't be there next to her, but he could still sit with her as close as he their physical confines allowed him to. Attempting to offer her the silent comfort he had afforded his brothers numerous times before; the voiceless succour he’d provided hunter whenever he had migraines so painful he was entirely incapacitated yet couldn't be left alone, the same quiet amity he lent tech whenever his brother would narrate the process of a complicated project whilst he verbally worked through the issue, the soundless presence he had given the reg whenever he sat with him on his bunk during sleepless nights.

With Wrecker it had been less about crosshair offering a silent support and more about rising to meet his older brother’s energy, engaging in and initiating contests and games that they routinely fought for place as victor. It was usually Wrecker who worked to be the calm and steady company whenever Crosshair had needed it.

He wasn't certain what would best work with the kid. His options were limited as is, he knew, especially given there were eyes upon them more often than not, but perhaps this would grant a modicum of solace? If anything he would remain awake alongside her, she wouldn't be alone.

A modified silence reigned around them. No noise except for the distant humming of the buildings’ systems, the air vents cycling and the low humming that always came from the multiple glowing shields that held them all within their prisons. Only accompanied by the smothered hiccuping sobs and wet snuffling that came from the kid as she continued to quietly cry.

“I dreamt of that day on Eriadu,” He heard her speak up suddenly after several minutes had passed, explaining the reason for her upset in a subdued voice, softly heaving a stuttered breath thereafter, “The, the day that Tech...”

Crosshair stiffened at hearing her admission, startled by the onslaught of heartache hearing his little brother’s name had shot through his core. Eyes closing on their own accord, he strove to keep his own breathing even. Measured and counted.

He had been informed of what happened by Hemlock. The kriffing bastard had brandished the remains of Tech’s shattered helmet to him as if it were a trophy meant to be shown off and smiled at with revenance.

Later when he had been returned to his own cell and saw the kid was in hers, looking worriedly over at him, he had whirled on her once the guards had left them alone. Not shouting nor anywhere near loud, but demanded he did. Low and severe, he relaid what Hemlock told him to her and pressed to know if it was true. Yet he hadn't needed any verbal confirmation from her since the expression on her face and the welling of tears in her eyes had told him everything.

Shuddering, Crosshair drew a slow breath against the icy-grip of grief that reached out from his heart to clamp vice-like around his chest, intertwining its talons between each and every rib. It strove to stutter his next inhale and constrict the rest to nothing.

The ire he had initially felt when he had found out had tapered, he couldn't remain angry long enough to stave off the tide of grief anymore these last several days. Extinguished by a resurgence of memories, likely brought up by exhaustion and grief, from their years as cadets and from their graduation onwards to an elite squad in the GAR.

Stupid moments during the dull moments of missions or in-between assignments, idle chatter of conversations he hadn't remembered until now to petty arguments that felt all the more trivial to shared silences of companionship and solidarity.

Recollections of smiling, and outright laughing a few rare times, with his brothers. Of games and tears and jokes and the grittiest of missions where they barely made it out by the skin of their teeth. Memories of every sort, good and bad, had coalesced and come to the forefront of his mind unbidden. Each one worked to erode at his anger and the bitterness he had felt, it all felt frivolous and inane now. Regret had seeped in heavier than ever before, mingling with guilt and his grief to the degree he felt ill with it.

Learning of his brother’s death in an attempt to rescue him and then seeing the kid had been captured only to have her confirm his warning had been received just not followed had twisted something deep inside Crosshair. He had clung to the rage at their continued distrust of him, that they wouldn't even listen to his wanting, and had been snuffed out almost immediately.

For their squad had never been one to follow orders or adhere to any strict rules, anything ‘by the book’ was a joke they all smirked at. He shouldn't have expected anything less, even if the kid was involved. she was off the same stock after all, and living with those four for so long had to have had an influence.

Maker knows Wrecker, Tech, and the reg. held no impulse control if Hunter wasn't actively present. Thus he doubted the kid was any different.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was closer now, directly at his back, so lost to his reminiscence he hadn't heard her get up nor walk over towards where he sat, “I know you’re mourning him too. That's why I didn't want to say anything.”

Her words felt more akin to a hit to the solar plexus than the expression of sympathy that they were. And again he had to work to steady his breathing lest he lose any control over the amount of oxygen he drew in, shoving back against the pressure welling within his own chest.

Focussing instead on the faint sounds from her side of the slatted wall, hearing the soft shuffling of the kid’s clothes along with the dull thumps of her sitting down behind him. The faint warmth he could feel from her back through the slits in the wall told him she had mirrored his posture.

“But I miss them so much.” She said after a breadth of silence between them, nearer a broken whimper that continued through the wobbliness of tears to whisper, “And I want to go home, but when we get out of here and see Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo again, Tech won't— No rescue plan or any amount of credits can bring him back to us.”

Clenching his eyes closed at hearing her words, spoken so plainly and bereaved yet still she held out hope for rescue based upon her use of ‘when’ rather than ‘if’, and she remained adamant in her wish to have him return with her it seemed since she only ever referred to them instead of just herself when it came to escaping or being rescued. ‘We’ never ‘me’ or ‘I’ when she spoke of it. Believing in it so heartedly she didn't seem aware she had used such verbiage.

It brought forth another form of sadness to Crosshair's chest, the grief over knowing Tech was gone nestled beside the misery of knowing her hopes would not be met.

Omega held such belief in their brothers and in everything turning out with them reunited, even if it wasn't better or all right, that they would all see each other again. But Tech had already lost his life in an effort to rescue just him, thus locating this place and infiltrating it was a challenge unlike any they had encountered before. Too many variables to calculate against and the highest of secrecy about this place, along with the Empire’s sheer numbers and degree of control. Add to the fact, Hemlock held a sadistic ambition when it came to his experiments…

It was unlikely they would be found before something worse happened. If they could be located at all, there was an even less chance of everyone surviving that rescue attempt. In one piece or at all. There was little accuracy in her hopes, but Crosshair supposed that was why they were called hopes. They weren't actuality nor truths, simply wishes that were based upon a small shard of reality. And after everything that had been taken from her, he couldn't take that from her. Not yet, not now.

Venting a muted sigh, Crosshair bowed his head and moved a hand of his to reach back beside him through the lower end of the opening between their cells. Although his hands were lithe, he could only reach through to the knuckles nearest his palm before the edges of the slat stopped him, but it was enough for him to brush the fabric of her sleeve.

Pinching the material awkwardly between his pointer and middle finger, he tugged it gently twice to gain her attention towards his hand. Hearing her shift behind him, he released her shirtsleeve to splay out his finger slightly in a deliberate motion. Only a second's pause came from her before a quiet sniffle met the air and he felt her small hand encircle his fingers. And he curled his fingers a slight to ensure she felt his attempt to hold her hand back.

A/N: :))) I have made myself sad now… but another chapter to come , so see you soon with more feels <3 The next chapter will detail what Crosshair references in this chapter about what happened to Omega those days prior.

#bayze's writing #my writing #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #swtbb #star wars the bad batch fanfiction #star wars the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #swtbb fanfiction #swtbb fanfic #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #crosshair #omega tbb

[fizzyxcustard]

Betrayal (5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Crossover of Spooks and Pilgrimage (Modern AU)

Pairings: Lucas North x OC/Raymond de Merville x OC

Warnings: Love triangle. Angst. Language. Sexual references/language. Cheating.

Summary: Amy Holland is Lucas North’s girlfriend of six months. Amy is aware of his job as an MI-5 agent and supports him. However, Lucas’ cousin, Raymond de Merville, has always loved Amy and uses their one night stand together as leverage for something more.

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. I’m gradually removing people from my tag lists who do not interact.

I don’t normally write about cheating as it’s just not something I particularly feel comfortable with, but I really wanted to write something with these two in this situation, so I hope that this came out well.

The character of Amy Holland is from all of my Spooks fics with Lucas.

Lucas' phone suddenly began to buzz on the bedside table.

Amy sighed, silently thanking the ringing nuisance for the distraction. So she sprinted to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet lid. Her gaze rested on the plain wall, unwavering.

Suddenly, after a minute or two, there was a loud bang and the slamming of a door.

Amy called for Lucas. No answer.

In the bedroom and Amy pulled her clothing back on and dashed out. She found Lucas, dressed in just his jeans, pacing the kitchen. His face was contorted in frustration and anger. The fear of approaching him hit Amy square in the chest. And she then knew who had been on the phone. Raymond. Only one thing could have caused this outburst.

"I don't know what to say. There's nothing..." Amy began.

"Shut up," Lucas growled. "I knew. I just knew things weren't right. The way you watched each other and thought I never noticed."

"Nothing I say or do can change anything. No amount of sorry is going to go back and change things," Amy said, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Why though? Am I not good enough?" Lucas asked, rubbing his hands up the back of his neck and into his short, black hair. "Do I not perform well enough for you that you have to go and fuck my cousin?"

"Lucas, it was never about you," Amy sobbed. "It was never about what you'd done or hadn't done. Raymond just has this way..."

"That you obviously find so fucking appealing. I want the two of you gone from my life. I don't care what you do; just go, and don't contact me again."

Amy never argued or fought. She collected her belongings and left Lucas' flat in silence.

Lucas grabbed a mug from the table and threw it at the tiled floor with a scream. A double betrayal. Double heartbreak. He raced to his front door and stood on the step, watching Amy's sombre figure get smaller, until she was a speck and then disappeared around the corner. Lucas sobbed. His good girl. The woman with the biggest heart he'd ever known. An insecure soul that he'd gradually eased forth.

Back at Amy's flat, tears still clinging to her cheeks, she threw herself down onto the sofa. It felt as though she had disassociated from life, from the world. Numbness took over.

Raymond's name flashed on her phone screen but his calls remained ignored. She knew that it was just as much as fault as Raymond's. He'd only ever been persuasive, not forceful.

Amy fell into a dreamless sleep and woke to the sound of birdsong outside the window, and for a second she smiled. Everything was at peace. Then the realisation and pain hit. It knocked the breath from her lungs. She gasped, and rolled onto her back.

She called into work sick that morning, and then dragged herself up, forcing her body to get washed and dressed. Everything felt as though she was were just watching from a window and her body was being controlled by auto pilot. She was just a bystander, watching her whole world crumble around her.

The cafe was busy that morning, as always. She questioned why she had still gone there. Maybe in some hope that Lucas may turn up. Instead, Raymond appeared.

He walked over to her usual back table, taking long, confident strides. "Aim," he said simply.

"Have you come to gloat?" Amy snapped.

"Why would I do that? I actually came to see if you're alright."

Amy was surprised to see sincerity in Raymond's face. "You got what you wanted."

"No, I didn't," Raymond replied, sitting down opposite her. "Not really. I'll never have what you and Lucas did."

"Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. Is this your twisted way of trying to comfort me and get into my knickers at the same time?"

"No, this is my way of saying bye to you."

"So you wreck everything in my life, and in his, and then just walk away?"

"Don't you think I've lost as well? You're playing the victim card so well here, Aim."

"Fuck you. You arsehole." Amy glared at Raymond for a second, her green eyes wide in livid contemplation.

Raymond leaned in. "It takes two to cheat and wreck lives, Aim. Don't forget that."

***

Raymond left the cafe, knowing that everything he'd ever wanted had been blown apart. Amy would never look at him the way she looked at Lucas. He would only ever be a good fuck, nothing more.

At the riverside, Raymond stood, watching the ripples on the surface. It reminded him of a pebble hitting the surface of a body of water; such a small impact, but those ripples spread so quickly. The consequences of his and Amy's insatiable attraction had broke three people apart. All bonds had been broken between all three of them. Love. Family. Friendship. All gone.

Would there ever be a way to try and fix those broken bonds? He doubted that. But as he thought, sifting through memory and reason, Raymond came to one thing. One bond had not been severed. In fact, it had never grown past halfway, and that was his love for Amy. Would he ever be able to grow that love past the halfway point so her heart reached his in return? Everything with Lucas had been severed, but not between him and Amy. How could something be severed when it had not fully grown in the first place?

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @linasofia @knitastically @guardianofrivendell @asgardianhobbit98 @luna-xial @meganlpie @spidergirla5 @middleearthpixie @sunflwrnsunnieshine

#Richard Armitage #Lucas North #Spooks #MI-5 #Raymond de Merville #Pilgrimage modern AU #Pilgrimage (2017) #Fanfiction #Lucas North x OC #Raymond de Merville x OC

[coffeedrgn87]

Fighting To Be Seen 👀

TW: gender, dysphoria, mental health (brief mention of anxiety and depression)

The last couple of months have been anything but a rollercoaster of joy. Not that I believe a rollercoaster could ever be joyful, but that is a) my personal opinion (deeply rooted in my fear of said contraptions) and b) I digress.

As it turns out, and sadly I've had the "delight" to experience this first hand, too many places aren't ready for non-binary folks.

My personal fight for recognition started when I first chose to step out of the closet about identifying as non-binary. It was a scary time, but I also felt like coming out allowed me properly acknowledge my true self, something I hadn't done in a very long time.

After that first step out into the open, I boldly and proudly changed my pronouns to she/they absolutely everywhere. Sadly, I quickly realised that it made next to no difference. Yes, all these places wanted to know my pronouns but apart from a supportive handful of people (most I'd met through fandom), nobody cared...or made any effort to speak to me about my choice of pronouns / use them interchangeably. It seemed like by coming out (yet again), I'd condemned myself to a life of misperception and having to grind my teeth while others blatantly ignored what was right in front of their eyes.

While I wasn't directly targeted with hateful rhetoric, the constant misgendering weight on me heavily. What hurt the most was the incessant use of gendered terminology: girls, ladies, etc., the list is practically endless. Each time I heard or read those words, I felt excluded from whatever group I was in.

The feeling is hard to describe, but for me personally, it felt like a sharp stab directly into my heart, directly followed by somebody throwing a bucket of ice over my head. It hurt. So much. Despite my medication, my anxiety rose to levels I'd not experienced before - at least not for such prolonged a period of time. In addition to that, I had other major real life worries that made me feel like my favourite rug was being dragged from under my feet regardless of how much I clawed at it to stop it from slipping away.

I sought solace in fandom. I dropped the she/her pronouns entirely, thinking people would pay more attention to seeing they/them pronouns -- I was sorely mistaken. Yes, people in fandom went above and beyond to honour my wishes, to make me feel seen, but the rest of the world didn't seem to care, still doesn't. I changed my clothes, adding a binder (my pride and joy!) and wearing more androgynous clothing. My hair had been short for a good while, and I liked it that way, but I went shorter still. I tried so hard to create a person of indeterminate sex, which is how I see myself. I even found a gender-neutral name I fell in love with and adopted wholeheartedly.

None of that mattered. Not even to my family, especially not to my family, but that's another story.

People still look at me and see someone they presume to be female. They see feminine features and hear a feminine voice and their decision is made. I must be a woman. Well, I am not. I don't feel like one. Sure, I have moments where I feel more feminine, but I mostly keep those moments to myself. Mainly for fear of being judged and experiencing yet more misgendering, but also because those feelings belong to me and nobody else.

So, over the past six months I've done nothing but fight to have my chosen name recognised. I've spoken to more LGBTQIA+ NGOs/charities than I've done in my entire life, I've changed therapists and can now proudly say that I'm in the healing hands of a person who sees me as me, a person without a specific gender attached to them.

You'd think that all that energy I pour into fighting to be seen would lead to change, but I mostly just feel like I'm yelling into a soundproofed bottomless pit. I've found myself standing in front of the mirror, wondering whether it's all worth it and it hurts that in 2022 we still live in a world where this is a question trans/non-binary and gender-diverse people have to ask themselves. It's also shocking. I've always been on the road less travelled, but the past couple of months have been a steady stream of my anxiety feeding into my depression and taking away every ounce of energy.

There've been too many times where I couldn't get off the sofa, looked at the dishes and saw nothing but Mt Everest despite there only being two plates and a mug to clean, stood in front of the door to my flat and couldn't convince myself to set a foot outside, and cried bitter tears. I've been angry for months, all because everywhere I turn I've got to ask to be seen.

Some random real life examples:

My neighbour, a lovely parent to a sweet toddler, couldn't understand it when I said that makeup isn't really my thing. Someone took a look at me and decided I must be female. The feeling was so intense, it nearly choked me.

I attended a meeting on culture in the workplace, apparently tailored to me, only to find myself listening to a fifteen-minute presentation about women in the workplace. I don't even know how to begin to describe how I felt. Unwanted is a word that comes to mind. Unseen, hurt, sad are also emotions I experienced. When I spoke up, I got an apology, but the damage had already been done, despite me being upfront about my pronouns and gender.

My dead name was leaked and I've been fighting ever since to contain the mess, and to make people understand.

My current health insurance is point blank refusing to recognise my gender. They even went as far as telling me that I could choose between 'male' and 'female' and that these were my options, end of. I am considering legal action.

The above is just a small selection of things I've been dealing with. But a lot of that happens on a daily basis, in various situations, time and time again. Armed with pronouns and an openness to talk about my gender identity has changed nothing. People still look at me, see what they want to see, and act according to what they perceive to be the right course of action.

Last week, someone unexpectedly used my pronouns and it had been a long time since I heard 'they' used in a statement about me. I burst into tears the moment I dropped off the call, and even as I'm writing this my eyes are burning, my heart is beating way too fast, and my fingers are trembling.

I don't know how much fight I've left in me, but I do know that all I want is to be seen. It's all I think about. I'm tired of opening a form and not seeing a title that I can identify with or having only two choices for my gender, but then stumble across a section that's asking for my pronouns. I'm neither a 'Mr' nor a 'Ms/Miss/Mrs' and it's not fair that on the rare occasion that more than two options are available for gender, I've the choice between 'other' and 'not declared'. I'm none of these. I am a non-binary human being and I want the world to recognise me as such. In 2022, is that really too much to ask for? Apparently so, and it's exhausting.

You know how they say that hope dies last? Well, there's a flicker of that left in me that still believes we can make this world a better place where people think and ask before making assumptions that fit their narrative, but I must also say that I've spent the better part of 2022 doubting that. Because how can I not when I spent 90% of the time feeling like I don't belong or that I have to be someone I don't know how to be.

#trans positivity #transgender #non binary #gender stuff #queer stuff #real life #transrightarehumanrights #trans awareness #pronouns #lgbtqia #queer life #somewhat of a rant #the reality of it all

[chancellor-reno5]

AllTober Day 5 - "I'm Not Going Anywhere"

Contains: Self-Harm, Alcohol, Suicidal Intentions, Kunikidazai

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Characters: Kunikida Doppo, Dazai Osamu

It wasn't uncommon for Dazai to attempt to kill himself - he even went as far as to call it a hobby. There was no meaning to life in Dazai's mind, so why would he live something with no meaning? Dazai witnessed murder, abuse and every other crime you could think, and also committed a large number of them as well. Even so, for some reason, someone cared.

In the Port Mafia, it was Odasaku. Even if Oda saw that there was no life or ambition behind the dead of Dazai's eyes, he still cared about Dazai. If it wasn't for Oda, Dazai would never have left the mafia.

Now, it was his work partner, Kunikida Doppo. But Kunikida was different. Kunikida specifically would find a section of his perfect schedules, and that section would be 'check on Dazai'. He would dress Dazai's wounds, make sure Dazai ate, and see it that Dazai slept. All before Kunikida would focus on himself.

Today was no different. Kunikida was in Dazai's apartment, at the same time everyday. He stood at Dazai's cooker, making the former mafia member something to eat. Unfortunately, Kunikida hadn't gotten there before Dazai had drank a few too many - and Kunikida had yet to find out.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Why do you help me?" Dazai blurted out after he'd eaten what Kunikida made. The mathematician was in the midst of redressing Dazai's wounds, some old and some new - most self-inflicted, few accidental.

"Sorry?" Kunikida was confused, no doubt.

"Why do you help me?" Dazai repeated. He tilted his head, laid on the back of the couch, towards Kunikida.

"Why shouldn't I? You're worth the same care as everyone else" Kunikida replied, finishing with wrapping Dazai's arm, moving round to the other.

"Am I? You know what I've done... It's punishment is it not?" Dazai stared at his ceiling as he said this.

"You've proven you can and have changed, Dazai. Yes, you drive me nuts, but when you don't it leaves me concerned. You're not the kid you were, alright?" Kunikida said with a tone that only a teacher could manage, using his ability to get another reel of bandage, realising he'd ran out.

"Heh, and I'm the crazy one... You're insane if you think that makes anything better" Dazai grumbled, watching Kunikida.

"Never said it made what happened better. However, you're helping in an effort to make Yokohama safer".

"Kunikida..."

Kunikida glanced up from behind his glasses, finishing the other arm. He immediately noticed that Dazai had tears rolling steadily down his face.

"... Why of all people do you keep me as your partner...?"

"You're more than a damn partner Dazai, and you know that. You're a part of me as I am a part of you" Kunikida moved to sit beside Dazai, pulling the shorter detective into a hug. Outside of Kunikida's usual actions, yes, but it would happen occasionally and Dazai would relax into it. Dazai fell silent, before wrapping his arms around Kunikida, sending the ex-teacher onto his back, only so Dazai could rest his head on Kunikida's chest. He would do this when he got like this - lay and listen to Kunikida's heart, and fall asleep to it, knowing that he would be safe.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dazai. I'm here to stay".

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AllTober is hosted by:

#alltober2023 #alltober #bungou stray dogs #kunikida doppo #dazai osamu #bsd #bsd dazai #bsd kunikida #kunidazai

[aotoreiki]

What made you pick up this character?

Which song do you feel describes your character the most and why?

Questions for muns of canon muses

1. What made you pick up this character?

the (half) joking answer is the whims of autism brain

This unlocks my unskippable cutscene because I never get tired of telling about it. The reason I started rping Ice was an accident on my part and the result of me trying to pull a joke on my sibling.

When I was maybe 12 or 13ish me and my sister and our best friend would live-rp pokemon stuff. I started drawing a bunch of silly comics about our ongoing plot, us, and the characters involved. Now I actually didn't care much about Ice or Pokemon Ranger back then, that was my sister's thing.

For some reason Ice really annoyed her, so as a joke, I added him to the comic. It was just to get her reaction and to use as a recurring gag (since our self-inserts were characters, hers reacted the same way, angry every time he showed up). Then, because we were live-rping this out and my sister disliked him and naturally refused to do it and our friend hadn't played Ranger and didn't know anything about him, that meant that I had to play Ice's part in our weekly games. I actually didn't especially want to do it though lol I remember that.

He went from being included as a joke to playing a bigger and bigger plot role as I got more and more invested in him. I cannot explain WHY this happened. I honestly don't remember or know. My brain just latched onto him. He basically took the place of a self insert, it went way beyond our larp stuff, I began putting him into EVERYTHING in my head. Every day I was making up scenarios with this guy. I cared more about rping him in our games than any of my other charas. I was drawing a squillion terrible pictures of him. He had become the Main Character of my Brain.

This went on for years and years until it carried over when I got proper internet access and got into fandom spaces that had rp, and then eventually when I started with tumblr rp and discovered the Pokemon rpc was a thing, of course I was going to put him here too.

There have been patches where he fell back into the recesses of my brain for a time, but he's never actually gone, and I don't think he will. I picked Ice up out of a thoughtless consequence of a prank years and years ago and he stuck to my hands. I can't put him back down.

21. Which song do you feel describes your character the most and why?

I'm partial to this English cover/interpretation of Reason Living.

It's about striving to figure out and grasp your purpose, as you live now, despite what may have happened in the past (a core theme in BSD where it comes from, and one that I like).

Why can’t I find the shining light? The reason for me to live my life Only yesterday, I went astray and My mind began to fade away

Reaching out as I look above Up to the clouds I will never touch With my tainted hands

You can listen to it and pretty much all of it can be imagined from Ice's perspective. He's insecure, he's made poor choices, he lacks a solid sense of purpose and doubts and has little proper faith in himself because of things he's done that had a poor outcome (with lesser or greater problems attached). Still, he wants to find that purpose.

I learned to feel my pain And I realised how to start again And depart on my journey to be saved Go on, take my hand!

I reference the song on the blog theme and in Ice's main verse tag! I also had it set as the blog title until just a few days ago.

#inbox ✻ i’ll see you around! #skillswapping #ooc ✻ who opened the box #Thank you!! the question about the song was actually a very good reminder to me

[lilolilyr]

Hi, I'm your gifter for the Bering and Wells Gift Exchange! I'm up for writing basically anything that's not sex/smut, and I'd really appreciate if you could give me a prompt or any ideas you'd like to see written!

Hi! Sorry that I'm only replying now, I meant to but kept forgetting...

Some prompt ideas:

Through time travel/also being bronzed/alternative universes combining, whatever you want to pick (if you want to write an explanation at all) - Christina is suddenly there with them in the 21st century! and they're showing her this new world, Helena learning about things she hadn't noticed so far as well... maybe Christina ships her and Myka, and that's how they get together?

Crossover with The Old Guard if you happen to know that fandom, the Warehouse gang meets the immortals (I ship Andy/Quỳnh or Andy/Quỳnh/Nile if you want to include that)

Crossover with Gunpowder Milkshake, maybe Florence uses an artefact to bring Madeleine back to life/safe her life, and Myka wants to have them arrested for it but Helena understands the situation and says what's done is done, just let them be

Helena has chronic pain, either she has had it her entire life or since the bronzer, either way she's used to it and doesn't even notice anything is wrong - she's not sick, she's not getting worse, for her it's just how it's always been, bodies just randomly ache sometimes, don't they? It takes Myka noticing her wincing or repeatedly flexing her fingers while she's tinkering with some experiment that she wants to finish despite having a bad pain day for them to realise that No Helena, it certainly isn't normal to be in pain for no reason, give yourself a break and allow yourself to rest when you need it, other people aren't constantly suffering so when you are you can allow yourself to lie down for a bit and at least not make it worse ok... (pls don't let the chronic pain magically disappear if you take that prompt, tho on the other hand also no bad illness that will kill Helena or such things, just the chronic pain)

Modern no powers AU: after the death of her daughter, Helena had thrown herself into her work until she didn't have a minute to breathe anymore, her mental health only worsening and worsening. She finally quits her job, takes all her belongings with her and moves overseas, trying to find peace away from it all. One of her neighbours is Myka, a lonely woman who loss her partner a few years ago and barely ventures out of her garden and library. After a while, the two women notice that they have more in common than just their grief.

Crossover with Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, in particular I'd love to see how Dr Mac and Helena get on xD how they end up in the same time - artefact or complete AU - is up to you! I ship Mac/Phryne(/Jack)

A Myka's Ex Girlfriend Cinematic Universe canon-divergence with Amanda as the ex (ok I think the link doesn't work on mobile but go back to only seeing the part of the ask above the readmore then click the tag below this post to see the posts on my blog also using that tag), basically she's Myka's ex instead of Pete's... Also possible ot3 potential with her and Helena .

Any emotional hurt/comfort with a focus on the comfort is always welcome

Combination of any of those ideas

Some squicks I'd like to avoid: MCD and in general on-screen character death; hurt no comfort; noncon even off-screen; character bashing unless you ask me first whether it's okay in that character's case

I hope you'll find this reply, if you send me another ask in the future I'll tag them #b&wexchange22 so you can search my blog for that!

Thanks for the ask :)

#Warehouse 13 #Bering and wells #bering and wells gift exchange #warehouse 13 gift exchange #b&wexchange22 #gift exchange #lilo writes behind the scenes #ask the blogger #answered #mine #tag later #did i copy most of the prompts from last year's ask? hell yes it's the middle of the night so i have 0 braincells left to think of things #also i don't think last year's gifter actually fulfilled any of them #so there's that #x #myka's ex girlfriends cinematic universe #my w13

[homiro]

another vent, scroll on

here's a random free vector pic thing

"Not having others defend you when you're being wronged makes you tougher and makes you able to stand up for yourself" no, no it doesn't. It makes you distrustful. I makes you paranoid. It makes you extremely defensive because you know that at the drop of a needle you'll have to fight alone and you don't have the weapons because once the fight breaks the other party will have backups and you won't. It makes you feel like you don't matter because you see others get wronged and have people immediately jump to their defence. And yes, I'm jealous of that. I have never been defended from anything in my entire life. I don't even know what that would feel like. I always had to count on myself and this also makes it very hard for me to try to seek relationships, because I know if anything goes awry I'll be shoved aside and be on my own. I know I will have to apologise even if I'm hurt. I know I'll have to apologise even if maybe what I did wasn't that bad. I know I will have to grovel if I want to maintain the relationship and maybe I don't want that. And maybe, I just realised, that's why I isolate so much and avoid human interaction so much. It's maybe the cptsd and the autism and all that comes with it as well, but maybe I'm just scared because I feel like truly as pathetic and humiliating as it is to admit it, nobody really likes me. And I keep ranting and venting because I just can't pull myself back to a tolerable mental health baseline. I'm just fucking all over the place. And it's like... this loneliness is not good lol of course it's not. I know it's not. And it's not like it's just online like in the AoT fandom when I was getting blasted day in and day out and nobody defended me. Not a soul. Not even when I hadn't done anything wrong. They just enjoyed their schadenfreude or whatever when I reacted because I am reactive. And while in real life I can deck someone in the face like I did as I was growing up, online I just sit here, powerless, alone, getting blasted with nobody to help me and unable to fight back lol

#homiro said some shit #negative #vent #about loneliness mostly #i guess that's what this is #actually cptsd #actually autistic #mental heatlh

[bugaboooooooooo]

A blessing in disguise

Ayyyy guys after 5 months of hard work, I'm almost done with my fic! Also please excuse the shitty writing throughout the first threequarters of the story, I was young and inexperienced when I began writing this okay.

Enjoy.

A blessing in disguise

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Words: ?

Chapters: 24/24

Inspired by @/zoe-oneesama's akumanette design plus this post from @/gale-gentlepenguin.

Summary:

Shadow Moth: alright get me Ladybug and Chat Noir's miraculous

Little Devil: BITCH you thought

Alya salt, Lila salt, overall just class salt EXCEPT for Julerose;

Chloe redemption;

I a-paw-lodgise in advance for that Chat doesn't have such a big role in Little Devils fight and de-akumatization, I'm sorry. I dont like it either okay but it had to happen.

*****

(Friday)

---

This was it. Lila had isolated her from her friends; she now felt unwanted, taken advantage of. She had succeeded in breaking Marinette. She smirked to herself. Lila had been spinning lies about how the bluenette had been bullying her the past few months. And to be honest, Lila hadn't expected them to fall so easily into her trap. But they did; those idiots believed every single word that came out of her mouth. She almost began to feel sorry for Marinette; her classmates had believed her, Lila Rossi, whom they knew not longer than a few months, over their kind, hardworking, honest class rep. It only took one more little lie for them to snap: just a few moments ago, Lila had told them Marinette had pushed her down the stairs. (she didn't even bother making up new lies by now.) And then they all came raining down on Marinette. They insulted her, called her names, and even went so far as tearing her sketchbook apart. Lila was disappointed to see that it was an empty sketchbook. But it was the thought that counted. She had officially turned all her friends against her. And now, Lila was being comforted by the class while Marinette was crying in the bathroom.

Lila Rossi had won this war.

---

While Lila was having the time of her life, Marinette, as stated before, was crying in the bathroom. With nobody to console her. What upset her most wasn't even anymore the fact that Lila was lying. Or even that she had the whole class (with a few exceptions) wrapped around her little finger. She sadly was already used to that. No, what upset her most was how quickly her classmates had turned on her, even her best friend. She had expected better from them. Marinette was lost in her sorrowful thoughts. So naturally, she didn't notice the purple butterfly making its way to her.

"Little Devil, I am Shadow Moth.''

---

Shadow Moth, on the other hand, was quite excited. He had tried to akumatize Marinette multiple times, but his actions were fruitless. And he was sure she would be his masterpiece.

He began his bargain speech:

"Little Devil, I am Shadow Moth. Your classmates didn't believe you when you tried to warn them and instead turned on you. I'm giving you the power to get revenge on them. In return, however, you must do something for me: get me the miraculouses of Ladybug and Cat Noir.''

He waited for an answer.

---

Marinette rested her head on her knees. She felt so powerless against Lila. Nothing she did made a difference to her classmates.

"Little Devil, I am Shadow Moth.''

Marinette's eyes widened in horror.

This couldn't be happening. All those precautions she'd taken to avoid getting akumatized for nothing. To get akumatized now, of all times. Shadow Moth's voice continued booming in her head. Her blood roared in her ears. She couldn't hear anything else except the monologue; the voice blocked all her thoughts out.

Something tugged at her sleeve. Marinette turned her head to face her side. Tikki looked at her with such urgency in her eyes, Marinette realised something — she wouldn't be able to fight the akumatization. She already was finding the idea more appealing by the minute. Tears stung her eyes. How was she so easy to manipulate?

Marinette took a shaky breath and with her last common sense, she took her earrings off. Immediately, she felt naked.

Shadow Moth ended his monologue. Get me the miraculouses of Ladybug and Cat Noir.

Marinette felt a big part of her brain screaming at her to give her miraculous up now. She had one of them right here. Why give it away?

She shook her head. This was Shadow Moth influencing, manipulating her. She was Marinette, and she had her own mind. So she took a steadying breath and silently placed her miraculous in Tikki's arms.

Again, that feeling arose that she shouldn't be doing this. That she should just give them up. Marinette pushed it aside.

Tikki looked up at her again, her huge bluebell eyes wide and glassy. The kwami looked like she wanted to say something, anything. But they both knew it wasn't possible. Shadow Moth couldn't know Tikki existed.

Marinette gave the kwami one last glance. I'm sorry, she mouthed.

Tikki shook her head. It's not your fault.

Marinette felt Shadow Moths influence seeping her even more. She could practically already see the purple mass engulfing her. She glanced at Tikki again and made a couple of shooing gestures. I... think I have a plan, she mouthed.

---

Shadow Moth became nervous. Why wasn't the girl saying anything? Usually, if people tried to fight his akuma's off, he could hear them shouting stuff like 'I won't let you make me harm others', or 'Get out of my head, Shadow Moth!' Now, however, there was a silence that made him more nervous by the second.

But after a while, an answer came: ''It's a deal, Shadow Moth.''

*****

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