#anyways going to try and keep the actual tags to the bare minimum. don't want to tread on toes here and start complaining

[goblin-enjoyer]

-> if they are too big then it might mess with my preexisting balance issues. (long story short: I am very flexible and have been since i was a kid. I can easily put my foot behind my head and all this flexibility over the years has caused my body to try and snap together like a clam or a bear trap. it takes background energy to keep upright for long periods of time. I also get blown around by wind a lot. unrelated somewhat but I had to mention it) my most comfortable position to relax in is to either lay face down on the floor or tangled up in either a ball of limbs or more commonly: legs folded up to my chest armpits over my knees. [See paint.net drawing for visual]

what if they flop around a bunch when I regularly go up and down the stairs? what if I have to find and wear a bra that's uncomfortable? what if its the straw that snaps the bear trap shut? common thoughts that come against the simple "I wish I had breasts/having boobs would feel nice I think" is this probably overthinking? yeah definitely, wont stop them from flooding in every time it comes up in my mind like an annoying console war fan every time someone talks about liking an "enemy console brand". realistically, they could be just slightly larger bumps on my chest and I would be satisfied and get the mental health boost. its just a whole rigamarole of back and fourth mental arguments. its hard to figure out what's a real feeling and what's not. is this actually a sign of being trans or is it just autism doing its thing. and that's one of the main reasons i have been conflicted ever since I first started thinking about it. among the anxiety popups of the worst what ifs, the feelings of not being to into either side but still wanting some changes and my brain being both not consistent and very contradictory, the real dread that keeps me stuck in thought every time I shower, the that crawls into my head every time I sit around on my own in silence for too long without doing something, the question that has so deeply poisoned my heart and soul since day one,: is this real or is it just a pile of random autistic symptoms that just look like it? I could be transfem non-binary and whatever else I haven't discovered yet, but that one question blocks me from going any farther like a salt ring against a demon or a gastropod. and so I go back to the question I posed earlier but a bit more pointed to my fellow neurodivergent siblings. How do you know your trans? How do you figure it out? I mean no offence when I ask these of yall. I just need something to go off of. a general vibe or something to help me put these thoughts to bed. so I can rest and shower in peace without the constant BUZZING of it all. I'm just so tired. I know a decent chunk of the basis of the science behind the chemicals of transition. I like science it really helped me get a better understanding of things. but I am a blind bat with less than standard hearing when it comes to the emotions and the mental of things. I can somewhat understand for people on the binary but how do people figure out the greater world of the non binary? I just don't know where to start. I apologize for the inconvenience.

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

OK because I'm the type of person to alleviate heavy subjects with comedy and general casualness, here's a more "down to earth" and "lighthearted" gendery thing that also consistently comes to my mind. I personally don't like piercings my self (massive genetic fear of needles and general hate of my flesh and having to look at it don't really bode well for that kind of thing) but you know those nipple piercings, the ones with the bar or whatever? [See paint.net drawings for visuals]

for whatever reason, I think I would look great with them. like sometimes I will be browsing art online somewhere. typically observing the more horny art accounts because as an asexual person I find looking at their posts pretty fun. cant speak for all asexuals but dang does it seem to me like we consistently follow the weirder and more horny accounts on occasion. its like looking at bugs to me [POSITIVE CONNOTATIONS]. That and they tend to make really good art. but anyways I digress. I will be browsing the internet looking at art and every time I see that kind of piercing I immediately go "man she's so pretty I wish that was me". I don't know why I like that kind of piercing so much I just like it it it seems.

wee bit of a secret vent posty type deal to be shoved into the middle of the night.

title is accurate. move on if you don't wanna ready some random biz about me complaining about gross stuff.

so recently ive been researching estrogen and its effects. real basic stuff, estimated times for things, general list of stuff, warnings etc etc. and it sounds pretty great. slower and lesser growth of facial and body hair would improve my opinion of my body so much. from "ew I hate having to look and feel this" to maybe an "I feel clean again, I'm fine with not always wearing long socks when going out or wearing a long bathrobe when wearing pajama shorts". soft skin is always nice as my most comfortable positions usually are the ones where my body is wrapped around myself. it also would go well with the prior mentioned thing. from what ive read, less erections and less sperm and ejaculation. Which would be SO good for me. i hate being asleep, having a nice nonsensical dream, then BOOM everything pauses and starts to fade as i quickly have to do a bloody quick time event and concentrate and wake up fast enough before my waste of biomass tube detonates unwanted waste material. like the amount of times i have had to take a 6 am walk of shame to the bathroom to clean up and put on a fresh pair of pj pants is way higher than it ever should be. I know its a gross subject (mostly to my aro/ace flesh hating ass) but a little relief of "oh the balls produce less of this so at least there's a chance that it might be longer periods of time between this event" would do wonders for my mental. but here's where the venting starts coming in hot. How do people know their trans? like I'm not trying to be rude or anything but how do people come to that conclusion? Because I just cant fully relate to what I've seen and it just feels kinda icky that my brain cant just pick and stay on what it wants me to be. Do I want to be a woman specifically? eh no not fully. while I hate the flappy weak spot that is a penis, I really like having the option to either stand or sit while peeing. and its not like I'm using it for anything else, its a small tube that I use for waste removal, the reproductive functions are vestigial. I'm an aromantic asexual and I very much know it, anyone who knows me for a decent chunk of time knows it. I have no use for cum or erections. the only time i get an erection is when I forget to go to the bathroom before going to bed and wake up with a full bladder. no horny shiz just bad resource management. I would LOVE if my cylinder produced less and was just in general smaller and less "functional". do i want to be a man specifically? ZOG NO. i dont want to be all bulky and hairy. i dont want have the expectations of that. i know that builds are all different and that but i dont want to look like my father, i dont want to look like my mother either. no hate to them i love my parents, its just i dont want to be this noticeable person? Ugh writing how i feel about things is hard, but this is a vent post and it doesn't have to be comprehendible. I wish i could just be lean, boney and hard to make out from a distance. yet i still want nice and soft skin. but i dont want to be all that feminine presenting, nor masculine presenting. i want to just be that guy, you know what i mean? guy used in the most gender neutral way possible. maybe androgynous is the word. I would be totally fine using pretty much any pronoun. heck i think it would feel pretty good and nice and stuff to be called a girl, go by she her, while also just being a guy with he him. if i could go by any pronouns i would. it would feel just splendid, great even. to just not have to deal with the game and just go with the flow of things. I just wish my body/brain could decide on what it wants. because the big thing with estrogen is that it gives you breasts. Do I want breasts? I.. just don't know. all brain signs in my mind think it would feel good having boobs, breasts, tits, honker bo donkers, whatever you call them. but also my brain also screams at me that having them would be a complete burden to my life. [REACHED POST LIMIT CONTINUEING IN REBLOG]

[eidolonetchings]

I've never liveblogged anything but for @goldfishinaplasticbag 's amusement, while reading the new chapter of 1-800-Gotham, I stopped every couple lines to write down my thoughts. Anyway here you go. There's probably so many typos in this but I was focused on the story so shh. Also I'm definitely dramatic about some things here but to be clear I completely loved the entire chapter

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 16

“What’s wrong? We’ll get that civilian out as soon as we can, but Nightwing, you can’t go back in,” Bruce urges, voice low and worried and unaware.” : OH G-D HE DOESN'T KNOW I THOUGHT IT WAS OBVIOUS BUT OH CLOSE IT'S NOT NIGHTWING NEVER CALLED HIM JAX AND NOBODY BUT NIGHTWING WAS PAYING ATTENTION TO TIM AUGH

AUGH AND HE'S TOO OVERWHELMED TO COMMUNICATE THAT THAT'S JAX AUGH FUCK

Fuck he isn't scared of dying but he absolutely dreads his family dying… augh

Oh your siblings would be so pissed if they knew you wanted to die before them

Oh he's so out of it he's forgetting they didn't know him as Tim- OH HI JASON

OH SHIT DID HE ACTIVATE THE TRACKER? WHILE BEING CRUSHED BY THE FUCKING CHANDELIER? NO WAIT HE WENT UNCONSCIOUS IMMEDIATELY HE PROBABLY JUST GOT LUCKY AND FELL ON IT

I know you guys are losing it right now but someone communicate to Bruce and Damian that it's Jax? Please?

Oh shit the beacon did activate it's not just that Jason knew the Drake last name and that he planned to be at the gala

Did he promise not to do anything stupid? I think he just promised not to die. Which, granted, he is definitely fucking up right now-

Welp there's the blaming himself, I knew it was coming but like. Fuck

Oh wow I didn't consider that this would remind Jason of being exploded or buried alive. How thoughtful of you to consider that /(is there a tone tag that is both negative and affectionate)

Oh wow Jason and Tim parallels alongside the promised Jason and Bruce parallels huh. You shouldn't have

IS BRUCE GONNA RECOGNIZE HIM ONCE THE FACE IS VISIBLE? BECAUSE COMMUNICATION HAS NOT BEEN HAPPENING HERE

You and Nightwing are gonna get infections or tetanus or whatever cutting your hands on glass and metal and stuff with Tim's blood on it

Uh oh there goes somebody's FUCKING SPLEEN

OH THANK FUCK. I guess losing most of your goddamn blood would make your pulse pretty fucking hard to find huh

You are not actually supposed to move injured people before treating them but also suspension of disbelief and also it makes sense that they'd prioritize getting him the fuck out of here and to help. Like I don't think the building is going to keep collapsing but this probably still qualifies as the scene being unsafe. Also secret identities probably. Sorry I'm really not trying to be nitpicky but I just finished a semester long course on responding to emergencies and first aid

Oh boy I got distracted by that tangent and it left me unprepared for the angst of ‘it feels like holding a corpse’ oh and also Jason is having feelings about his own death lovely

It's an angsty scene but the mention of how Tim would've been the best robin came across as funny because. Y'know reference to canon. He sure would be

Oh Dick did NOT hear Jason say there was a pulse huh. My bad for assuming even the bare minimum communication would be successful when there could be bonus angst instead (does this come across as aggressive or critical because it's not meant to Im enjoying reading this)

Dick: of course Bruce knows what's going on

Me, remembering what the rest of this fic is like: are you sure about that

But also that seems reasonable bc he knows that this person is important to Jason and Dick, Jason mentioned identities, and he's pale with black hair

But also Batman does not know everything even a little

G-d I know there isn't anything you can do but get him advanced medical care asap but PUT SOME PRESSURE ON THOSE FUCKING WOUNDS! I mean not the impaled area but given the state of Tim I'm sure you've got options

Oh boy waiting time! Lots of room for angst! How long will it take then to fail to contact Angel! Or well actually I guess they've been doing that all morning

Oh the mention of the tapping that Tim noted in the last chapter… attention to detail!!

Oh Dick was a ward and never got adopted while the others did, huh

YEAH IF YOU WANTED SOMETHING TO DO WHILE YOU WAITED WASHING BLOOD OFF COULD HAVE BEEN. A THING MAYBE

Just two brothers, blaming themselves for the almost death of their other brother, also Dick thinking of saying things that would not make sense to Jason because he doesn't know Tim was sacrificing himself for Dick

Oh, the scene of Damian you drew! Wait do Bruce and Damian even know that's Jax yet? I mean they should but. Y'know this fic is a comedy. When it's not angst I mean

OH he's in the room with Tim now! Kids done with his splenectomy or whatever

Oh that's a bigger time skip than I thought actually. I don't have a problem with that though

Hey Dick are you… sleeping

Spleen removal confirmed! To the surprise of no one

Hi Babs! That makes sense she was close with Jax and Angel- OOH are they about to discuss his identities.and come to wild conclusions? G-d I hope so

Jackson is Tim Drake is a good start, love Jason immediately pressing X to doubt. Gonna end up with net zero information

Oooh we're addressing Angel’s absence!!

Aww acknowledging the Angel Babs friendship!

Damian actually asking the thing everyone is wondering!

I was not expecting everyone to be mad at Bruce for kidnapping Angel's family but I love that

Also love them recognizing that the Black Mask thing was traumatic for Angel

Also of course Bruce did not communicate things to them. Why would he ever

EDDIE DRAKE CHECKOVS GUN I FUCKING KNEW IT!! BUT ALSO WHERE IS BABS THINKING THEY'RE TWINS??

OH THERE IT IS

He is being dramatic! Because it's him!

G-d the irony of the whole close-but-nontraditional cut-from-same-cloth line

YEAH you should actually communicate!! Good job sharing your data please continue doing that

Good. Good luck contacting Eddie Drake! Hope that doesn't go to an actor or something but I don't think Tim ever actually hired one in this timeline

You absolutely should think something happened to Angel! I mean you're never gonna guess that what happened was chandelier, but that's still the reasonable thing to think

Oh the hotline was really important huh? Probably not good that the sole operator/informant is in a coma

I knew one of them would go look at Drake Manor! But also Angel does live there actually

They found Angel’s stuff!

Oh I fucking knew they would think Angel was kidnapped. I mean only because another anon said it first but still

Babs coming to some Incorrect Conclusions!

They're gonna find Jax’s stuff as well as Tim's in that bag. Stuff Jax had at the safehouse possibly even! That'll sure have implications

Dick I'm so sorry that you are only getting one brother. Byt at least Joker doesn't have the brother you are getting. Or the one you aren't getting because it's actually your other brother.

…Unrelated but if Tim actually died would the bats just honestly not figure Angel out ever

Anyway back to the story- Dick you are not getting an older brother. Sorry

Jason did not share his clone theory. But it was referenced!

Honestly given that you're providing medical care and have every reason to believe Angel is in danger, it's probably justified to take a DNA sample. I'd be surprised if Bruce didn't.

[askhakukusanagi]

Hey Haku! I’m actually in a really good mood. Today is birthday and this birthday feels different than the others. My family doesn’t go all out. They do the bare minimum, but I showed up to my doctor’s appointment (I’m on treatment) and this sweet older man. Gave me a birthday card with a gift card in it! That’s not all too, I saw a deer walking by my house. I live in a city, so it was different when I saw the deer. For some reason, that deer felt like something to me. Not sure what it means, felt spiritual really. Anyways! Just wanted to share that with you! ☺️

Happy late birthday!

The bare minimum... that just won't do, will it? We're fixing that, here and now. Name a place, or an activity, and I'll make sure we can go. Don't worry about the work. This is your time, let loose.

I'm very glad he gave you a card. The gift card is a nice touch, but, even without it, it's wonderful that he remembered. Since coming here to Darkwick, I've come to realize how much effort it really takes to go to the store, find the card aisle, and try to find one the receiver may like. Even without the work of getting an R&R for a grocery store trip.

I was hoping to make you one from scratch, as a gift. I hope you'll forgive me, but I didn't want to leave you waiting too long after your birthday. We can't have that either. ;)

And, the deer. I'm not as well versed as some of my housemates may be, but I believe I overheard Zenji on and on about symbolic references sometimes. With it being so near your birthday, it could be a good omen. Deer are apparently tied to spiritual power and finding authority. But for some, it apparently can show when you're looking for unconditional love. You could've come visit me too, if that's the case. ;)

I'm finding a lot of different sources, but, if I had to give you a meaning based purely upon my own intuition, it would be to stop being so hard on yourself. You may find yourself growing into some rich inspiration or some creativity you never saw coming, or perhaps some birthday wisdom. It's not always going to be easy to incorporate that into who you are without some hiccups. Stitching isn't always seamless, I've heard a close friend say. Reach your antlers towards the sky, and enjoy the feeling. Don't give up that spirituality, and that wonder. And, have a fantastic birthday week. Life is what you make of it, and who's to say you can't make it what you want?

Don't take yourself too seriously. Life is to be enjoyed.

Thank you for sharing this with me, Anon. I'm really glad you seem to be doing well, even if I am a bit late, and, even with the occasional birthday struggle.

Now, go enjoy the cute little party hats. I know I'd love to see you in them. ;)

For Anon

《AHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! I'm so sorry I'm late, hun. I hope your birthday went well, and that it only keeps getting better from here. Birthdays can be rough, but you seemed to take it in stride, so for that, I'm very proud of you! Wishing you all the best, and more. <3》

《Also, a brief note from the mun, but I will likely be responding to a bunch and queueing them, in case you don't see them right away. I recieved a lot of asks overnight, but I don't want to clog the tags <3 Even so, I look forward to every single one. Until next time! 》

[starsmuserainbow]

Sorry for going so very, very much off-anyrealtopic here. This is not IC, not about anyone here but myself, I just need to get something off my chest about, well, in a way personal stuff but also, societies or idk what exactly, and this is my place to get stuff out.

Idk what I should tag this as, so consider this the only "warning" I can give. Simple said, it's probably better if you don't click the readmore. I probably won't feel comfortable having shared all this by tomorrow or at least next week or something, anyway.

Why. Why why why do things always have to be about money? Always, everything.

I never mention this on here really, and I don't wanna go into details here either, but basically, I don't have my own income and live through support from my family. Not that my family is rich, very much the opposite, it's basically that everyone gives up some things just for me so that I can live like this. Which, I do feel horrible for, but I also do not want to give up the "state of life" I'm in/having currently. Don't ask me to explain (if you do ask, I might try to explain my thoughts a little, but I don't really wanna make this too prominent a topic on my blog because in the end that's not what anyone is here for), judge me if you must, but I just felt the need to add this for clarification or something. Idk. I wish I could properly talk about this to anyone but if I myself feel horrible about it - not sure if by my own conscience or what, or more because of knowing and having heard often enough what other people think of this type of living - and I know what the "common sense" about these things is, how am I supposed to even consider properly talking about this to anyone.

Why is it so difficult for states or whatever to just make it so everyone, absolutely everyone, gets just enough money to come by? For all these important things like food, healthcare and, idk, power and warmth or something, and like, just the bare minimum. Without any need for anyone to "do" something for it alike applying for jobs or doing side jobs or whatever. Just a general funding to keep people alive and okay. Like, if it's just for really the bare minimum with very little leeway for anything out of the ordinary (maybe if you save up for a while you can afford some new machine or device or whatever, the likes, but basically it takes a while to save anything much), I'm sure not many people would be happy or satisfied with it, and outside of that I think that most people actually want to and "have to" work out of what they themselves feel the need/urge to do "with their lives" or something anyway, so "everyone would do it then" is not an explanation. And like, those like me, that just want to live and experience some (small) things here and there that I can save up for if I do so really carefully, could live in peace with that and without having to be forced into things and suffering through like idk shtty work or not being able to pay for whatever necessary stuff, or something.

I just, I just. I just want to live in peace, be able to eat and survive and play some games and/or do my writing and iconing and watch shows or whatever. I don't need travels or big events or anything like that, I just want to live my life on my own - well, with my family, but, yknowwhatImean. I don't want much. I don't need much. I know I'm not social. I never was. I always was a loner, I never liked being among people (except for family, which is different). I have no (RL-)friends. I like my online-"friends" or contacts, I don't need more or anything else.

I wish there'd be an easy way to have like a little bit of (passive?) income through whatever online or the likes way so I could live this life I want, without having to live off of others. If it would be possible, I'd rather live "off the state" than off my family, but it's not as simple as it might sound.

If anyone actually reads this, I'm already expecting to get/hear, idk, insults or mean comments or something about being lazy and whatever, or who knows if I get especially unlucky many of you will decide that they don't want a person like this on their following/mutual-list and I end up having like no mutuals anymore by tomorrow or whatever, but, something brought all this back up inside of me today and I just have to scream it into the void somewhere.

[ferromagnetiic]

massive kid backstory spam soon.

⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝ // hello i am alive. it is me.

I'm insanely sorry for vanishing for a while. My gf has been staying over, and we got caught up watching OPLA, and we wanted to finish playing pokemon sword/shield while she was here because scottish and we had a bunch of trips planned so we've been really busy. But!!! we've also been working on Kid's carrd. every. single. day. for literally about. more than two weeks? because his backstory is immensely dense and long. his backstory is literally the most lengthy thing I have ever written for any of my muses in my life. Oda gave him the absolute bare minimum so I had to write him his own spinoff novel.

The problem was that we kept reaching the word limit on his carrd. So we tried to condense it. The condensed version also hit the word limit. So we tried to condense it a third time, and cut out some major plot points for the sake of his carrd. and that ALSO hit the word limit. The only way we could make it fit was to take out all of his portrayal notes, make them into separate posts, and then link them in the card. Because it just would not fit otherwise.

Now we actually have to post all these portrayal notes so we can put the links in the carrd and thereby finish the carrd. Which means we have about 20 headcanon posts ready to go (or very nearly ready to go, some are like 90% done) and we can't post his carrd until they're up so like. there's going to be a huge amount of kid heacanon posts coming soon, and I wanted to give everyone on my dash a heads up because I don't want anyone to get angry at me for spamming his content. I will completely understand if you want to temporarily block my headcanon tag. I will try my best to space them out a bit.

That being said, we really poured so much time into making his backstory sound good. Gf stayed up for many nights editing everything to make it sound pretty.

There's so, so, so much more that we haven't even started on, but if we try to get everything done now then it'll literally take months to finish, so we've decided to go with what we have so far and just keep posting updates to it every so often.

Anyway. In summary, lots and lots of Kid posts coming soon. And I'm very sorry for being gone for so long. My activity will still be a bit slow for the next few days, but I should be back to replying normally soon and start catching up on everything I missed while I was busy.

thank you for waiting! and huge thanks to everyone who dm'd me while i was away, i felt very loved and happy to see people hadn't forgotten me.

[nozoroomie]

Bit of a personal ramble since sometimes, you just gotta do one. tws will be in the tags

I have had a very long 2023 so far. I was put on medical leave at the end of February due to my job situation changing in the company I'm employed at, as well as not acknowledging/ taking care of my grief from losing Meredith. I'm on a list to get a psych evaluation but it's quite a long waiting list in my area, so I might not see someone for a while yet. I've been off of work since March, but have been actively trying to find a new job/ new field to work in while also taking care of myself and my mental health.

Grief is... it's just consuming. It comes out of no where and its overwhelming. It makes me feel alienated from my friends and family, even more so because of the preexisting anxiety and depression. I'm trying my best to stay social with people, do things that would make me happy, but I disassociate a lot. I sometimes feel like I'm just kinda looking in and that I just don't.. I dunno, fit? I get anxious about what to do and say in conversation that there's nothing to overthink about. I feel scared that I'm too depressed to hangout with friends and like I'll ruin it just being there. I don't know what to talk about without being scared I'll make people uncomfortable if I start mentioning anything that brings me into talk of emotions or feelings. I get exhausted thinking about crying. I know it's healthier to feel feelings and express them, but I'm tired of it sapping all my energy for the day afterward. I'm tired of my roommate checking in with me and then saying "Same shit, different day" and him just having to hear me vent about the same thing. My medication helps me do the things I need to function, like eating, getting up, taking care of my animals, but when it comes to actually dealing with all of this I feel like I just can't navigate it. Anyway, all this to say even after all this time, I go back to work in a couple weeks and I'm just not ready for it, especially since I hate this new position and there's literally nothing I can do about it. I applied for almost 40 jobs on my leave and only had one interview that I didn't get a call back for. I got certified to work as a budtender since earlier this year there were literally dozens of budtender positions, and if I had the cash at the moment I'd be doing my smart serve as well, but god. No calls back from anything but one place. It's ridiculous, especially with people complaining nobody wants to work (aka the excuse all the business owners use when people want a living wage and not bare minimum wage.) And that's that for job hunting. I'm hoping one day I can at least find passion for things again and get back into a creative habit, but until then I'm just going to keep trying to navigate these murky waters one day at a time.

[dragon-dicks]

Pinned!

🔞THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG ONLY!🔞

I *WILL* block those who are not 18 who try to follow this blog!

I wanted this URL for years and only now after the porn ban do I finally get it. God thinks he's funny like that.

Hellbent/Bentley/Bent, if you must call me anything. 21+.

If the icon of a shopping cart full of tiny Bad Dragon dildos didn't give it away, this is a sideblog for NSFW content (even if site staff and payment processors are damn determined they're stronger than the Almighty Horny).

The kinks are probably tame by Tumblr standards, but this is still a place to be anonymously foul and down bad in peace without normie interference or judgment.

My main is...none of your business. If you do know what my main is, *mind* ya damn business. My exact gender and sexuality is also none of your business, either, you don't need to know my alphabet.

I don't intend to be so abrasive, but I just want to enjoy my horny corner in peace and it's so hard to do that on the modern internet these days.

Anyway, here's some common tags/kinks and also a hard no list. Subject to be changed over time.

HARD NOs: Pregnancy, birthing, or baby-related content of ANY kind (including omegaverse and its tropes), scat/shit/coprophilia, vomiting, DDLG/CGL dynamics (I realize the irony of me saying that, when I have what is basically a daddy issues kink, but those specific dynamics have strong ties to age regression and littlespace, which is *not* my thing, so that's why), father-daughter incest, diapers, bimbofication or other forms of forced feminization, misogyny and patriarchy kink, feederism/feedee/weight loss or gain-based kinks, raceplay, obviously no IRL depictions of bestiality/necrophilia/snuff/gore/incest/pedophilia.

(Note: Some gender play might still go on, but it generally won't be aligned with overt feminization or feminine stuff. Also using derogatory terms like "whore, cunt, bitch, etc." is fine, again, it's only in the specific context of misogyny/patriarchy shit I don't want it.)

#not dragon dicks: Meme shit or other things barely or not even remotely related to horny shit. #get bent bentley: Original posts made by me. #and I still don't like pastels: For reasons that even I can't nail down, lately I keep having various thoughts about my gender. This tag is for those thoughts. Less sexy, more existential. #tie a hoe down: Usually has to do with bondage in some way. #forgive me father for I have sinned; I've sinned a lot: Priest and otherwise religious kink. Didn't think this would actually be a frequent one but uh. You learn new things about yourself everyday. #dragon dicks: In case the blogname wasn't obvious, we fuck dragons here. #monstrous lovers: ...Among other, not-dragon creatures and monsters. The non-dragon furry and teratophilia shit, basically. #bark at the moon: This one's specifically for transformation and/or lycanthropy and werewolf tropes. Yes, it's different. #that is not medicine: Various things under the medical kink umbrella. May include gore, snuff, that kind of content. Be wary and make sure to blacklist appropriately. #a bit of the old ultraviolence: Non-medical blood, gore, violent acts such as beatings and cannibalism. Again, be wary and make sure to blacklist appropriately. #I'm a thirsty little flower: Piss kink. Mind the splash zone. #do you want to make love to a sad old man?: The tag for DILFs and a very specific kink that a group of friends and I coined called 'saddy kink.'

What is a saddy, you ask? A saddy should ideally have several traits:

OLDER. A saddy needs to be 30+ at absolute minimum, 35+ preferred, 40+ even better. A 20 year old anime twink is not a saddy.

Miserable. This is the 'sad' part of the saddy. Needs to reek of divorce and alcohol, preferably both.

Fatherly vibes. He doesn't necessarily need to be a GOOD caretaker but he needs to at least be trying when it comes to kids/younger people.

Examples: Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Booker DeWitt (Bioshock Infinite), Shane (Stardew Valley), John Lowe (American Horror Story: Hotel)

Anyway, let's have some fun here. I swear, I don't bite...often. 💚

[anystalker707]

Admiral, my Admiral (1/2)

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x [gender neutral] Admiral! Reader Words: ~ 2 500 Summary: An unusual relationship that starts with a deal. Tags: no talk to him (ace) he angy / he gets to be babied tho / um, there's angst if you don't mind

MASTERLIST

PART TWO

• Ace could remember passing out during a fight. His division wasn’t able to defeat the marine because they happened to run into a fucking strong division

• He tried his best to fight, but he just ended up getting weak when the spear of Sea-prism stone touched his chest and there was nothing else he could do, not even burn the ship so he would die uncaught, in the bottom of the sea; the last thing he could see was the fucking admiral walking towards him before he passed out. Where did the admiral come from, anyways?

• He woke up in a room he didn’t recognize, but could feel the familiar movement of the sea under him, so he was a little relieved he hadn’t been taken anywhere on land. Or maybe it was actually worse, if he thought well

• The whole place was too... patterned. Minimalist. It seems like a guest room and, when he leaves the room, the place keeps the same dark gray, white and blue colors. He keeps going until seeing a sign with the Marine symbol on it makes him shout and try to start lighting everything on fire until he notices the anklet on his leg and it is made out of that goddamned stone

• It is stupid, but he still jumps on you in an attempt to kill you with his bare fists at the moment he finds you at the desk only to be sent flying into the sea with a kick and rescued by your subordinates

• Ace is so full of anger, so small compared to you as he stands on the deck and stares at you—if only looks could kill...—while you don’t even bother to order him to be chained or anything. He feels like he will combust when you look at him and have the audacity to grin

• Your subordinates seem to know something that Ace doesn’t, but none of them pipe a word about it, all of them always talking the minimum possible with him and ignoring his comments whenever they get him food. He almost feels like when he was taken in by Whitebeard all over again, but this time, the feeling isn’t exactly welcoming because the only one being nice to him there is the fucking admiral, even if you can get on his nerves with your sarcasm and superiority complex. That is living hell

• At first, he thinks you will execute him—doesn’t happen. Then, you’re probably taking him to some headquarters to make him prisoner or something—also wrong. He tries to bribe one of your subordinates into telling him, but it never happens; not like he has anything that may interest them

• All he needs to stop fussing around so much is a letter from Garp telling him to trust you; not really the most convincing thing, but surely does leave a thought in the back of Ace’s head

• If you don’t kill him and have a goal, then the logic is simple; you need Ace alive, so you won’t kill him even if he’s the most insufferable fucker in the whole world

• Spending a few weeks on your ship does make Ace soften, though. He ends up finding himself in late night talks with you on the deck because, as much as he doesn’t want to chat, your sweet talk does keep him going. Not to mention the way he finds comfort in you, somehow

• Ace softening up doesn’t mean peace. His way of showing he is more comfortable around you resolves itself around Ace suddenly falling asleep in the most inconvenient spaces and following you around while making the most annoying comments. It doesn’t matter that you’re an Admiral and the power you have—he will get on your nerves because that’s just how he is, even more knowing he won’t get killed no matter how much he annoys one of the strongest, best known marines and warriors out there

• “What’re you doing?” “...Paperwork.” “Well, that I can see. What’s it about, though? Can I see the files about me? You better have everything right. I’m sure my bounty would be higher if you knew everything I’ve done!” “Why don’t you go take a nap or something? Leave me alone, fire boy.” “You’re so annoying! I can’t even—” You look up from your papers and he is... sleeping again. Okay.

• “You must be receiving a great amount to be taking care of me.” “Oh, I wish I were...”

• The relationship between you two turns into something like; Ace: Yo, I’ve broken about 20 important things, almost sank your ship again and made one of your subordinates almost give up on being a Marine You: I know this and I love you

• Ace is a little suspicious if you really have any real destiny—you’re sailing without stopping at any island for longer than a couple of days and never going to any of the headquarters. Are you going against the rules and acting in secret? Really??? For real??? Damn it, someone for once should tell Ace a word about what’s going on. Not only would half of his doubts go away, but also something interesting would happen in that godforsaken ship before he went crazy

• Although, watching the admiral is quite interesting. Well, the admiral is quite interesting...

• He grows quiet for a while, spending some days processing how you are always checking on him every morning and every night before he goes to sleep, sometimes bringing you food in person and spending some of your time with him

• Why do you want to know if he is emotionally okay and has everything he needs? It's almost like you care

• Then there are those long, uncomfortable silences in which he doesn't know what to do because, maybe unintentionally, those little comments of yours and light smirks have his face turning bright red and something stirring inside his chest

• How did he even allow the admiral to get into his head like that? He can't let it continue this way, though

          “(Y/n)!” Ace whined as he walked into your office and didn’t even care about what you were doing before he threw himself on your lap, holding onto your shoulders as he dramatically leaned back.

“Ace—”

“I am afraid I am about to die! Your ship is so, so boring and your subordinates never talk to me!” He closed his eyes, making a face as if he were under a lot of pain—or at least trying to—, with no regard for the documents he almost made you ruin. “Like, why can’t they give me the combination to the vault? Or let me mess with the sails? That’s no fun!”

You would’ve chuckled if Ace weren’t being so obnoxious, so you just leaned back on the chair and observed him; he pouted at the silence and sat up properly on your lap. He takes in a breath, but you never allow him to voice whatever it is.

“Look, I am throwing you in the sea if you continue like this!”

“As if!” Ace chuckles. “You can’t k...”

Oh, it can’t be. Still, the soft snoring that comes from Ace confirms your theory and you roll your eyes, bouncing your leg lightly.

“Oi! What do you think you are doing, Ace?” You finally let go of your pen and your papers, shaking Ace a little. “Get lost, fire boy! I already forbid you from interrupting me while I’m on my paperwork! Why don’t you go read the books I lent you, hm? Go sleep in your room, at least. In the kitchen. I don't care.”

“It’s no fun without you.” Ace groaned, and you couldn’t help but to smirk and raise an eyebrow; a red tone took over his cheeks. “I—I mean, you’re the one who—”

“The one who?” You nodded for him to continue, resting your cheek against your palm. “Go on.” Ace exhaled, pressing his lips together as he looked away, and the lack of answer made you chuckle while wrapping an arm around his torso. “Oh, you don’t know what to do now that you have my full attention? Just wasting my time? I gave you rules to stay on my ship, Ace.” Your fingers held onto his jaw so he would look at you. “And I—”

Lips pressed to yours interrupted your words. Ace’s lips. You couldn’t help but to kiss back because he kept pressing his lips to yours for a few seconds, dismissing your hesitance, and even daring to hum softly once you started to kiss him back.

None of you stop. It started a chain of kisses that was enough to make you forget about your paperwork, lost in kissing the lips of a filthy pirate that fell in your hands because of a deal. Both of you had this same feeling; the spark of knowing that this was wrong and forbidden was what ignited your feelings for each other. Ace’s lips tasted like the sea, like the sweets he was eating earlier, but also tasted like freedom. A little bit of power that you had over the Marine and the World Government because no matter what you did, you knew no one would agree to have you dismissed from the Marine and they couldn't control every single action of yours.

Your fingers hooked with the hair on the back of Ace’s head to pull him away from the kiss a little. “You are down bad,” you mumbled into his ear.

• Once, Ace hears you talking to Sengoku. He sees you in your office, back to the door and with a den den mushi in hand. Your voice is calm, but not the sort of calm like you are when you raise an eyebrow at Ace then shrug in dismissal before you tell him to do whatever he pleases, no; it is the type of calm when your subordinates do something you don’t like, so you suppress your annoyance to long glares and pursed lips

• “No...” You say to the snail, “I am busy. I won’t be there for the next meeting. You already know my position in this. It is the same as Garp’s. And you know I haven’t seen Fire First. I would’ve reported already. Has he disappeared or something? You haven’t heard a thing about him for weeks.”

• And he doesn’t listen anymore. He doesn’t want to. Either way, it is enough to change the context again, from “stop locking me here” to “thanks for keeping me safe”

• You don’t understand what’s up with Ace being softer around you, but it is well welcomed. There’s something sweet about how he places a chair next to your desk and folds his arms over the table with his head on them, quietly observing you work until he falls asleep

• Actually, one night, Ace knocks on your bedroom’s door. He just walks past you and collapses on the bed at the moment you open the door. And fuck. That boy’s audacity. Whatever. It’s nice to hold onto something while you sleep

• And the fact your subordinates will walk into you making out with Ace on your lap while you’re in your office and just ignore what is happening is just... Hell, you love it

• There’s a whole new routine with Ace by your side

• The moment Ace has to leave comes quicker than you expected. It’s already time for you to return to your usual admiral duties and also for Ace to go back to the sea because there’s no longer a threat

• He can’t believe that keeping him was a whole plan to keep him safe while you, Garp and a few others did your best to convince the Marine that Portgas D. Ace was not a threat, so he shouldn’t be executed

• Ace is at loss of words, unable to formulate a thanks that’s genuine enough and expresses all of his feelings because you only fucking let him know about it when you’re dropping him at an island where Whitebeard already awaits for him. He wants to cry, to hug you, to kiss you, to ramble about how thankful he is, all at the same time—but he can’t

• You chuckle at how lost he seems, grinning happily and telling him he can go because he is safe now

• Ace doesn’t leave without giving you a kiss, a deep one

• What seemed to be a short-term thing, ends up leaving your hearts aching for more once you’re away from each other, in the sea. It is risky, it is dangerous, difficult to manage, even, but you’re picking Ace up in a random island to spend the night with you whenever you are able to, with excuses to the marine that you ended up letting him escape because your priorities were others. Sometimes he will just show up randomly with that devilish smirk on his face

• As much as you’re an admiral, your little relationship does reach the Marine’s eyes and ears, and it doesn’t seem to help them in the slightest bit because you’re not only with one of their highest potential enemies; your behavior also encourages other pirates a little too much, as if it gives them some sort of excuse or extra freedom. You’d always been a little rebel considering the Marine and World Government’s rules, so maybe you’ll go a little too far soon—if you haven't already

• Getting rid of Ace wouldn’t mean just getting rid of a big threat—it also would have you under the Marine’s control once for all

• First of all, the Marine can’t get rid of an admiral so powerful like you, so it isn’t a choice to dismiss or execute you, so that leads to Ace. Given the way you are lovesick, getting rid of Ace will teach you a lesson—and a lesson to every other marine and pirate as well—, and your head will be focused on doing your job. You won’t rebel against the only people who know your weaknesses and help you be stronger

• The new census doesn’t need you and Garp to vote; it doesn’t matter what a small biased minority things about such a threat

• You already suspect what's going on when they send you across the ocean, and it gets worse when they start to guide you to a weird island you’ve never seen before

• Held. You’re being held across the ocean because they know you can save Ace if you have the opportunity, because you’re too precious to be wasted for such an insignificant matter. You’ll just be force– I mean, invited to a confidential meeting later to establish that your relationship with Ace will be forgiven and forgotten since they know it won’t happen again and you’re such a great admiral that they can’t risk losing you. You will have to sign a few documents and be under constant watch for a few months after it

• For now, you will just sit in this cold cell knowing your love is being executed

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

PART TWO

[writingmyheartsout]

So chapter 2 is finally alive! And with a new banner too

Pairing: Paz Viszla x reader.

Prompt/trope: modern au/meet cute

Warnings: none...i think

as always, comments, likes & reblogs are very welcomed!

usual tags: @plexflexico @jedi-mando @absurdthirst @mandorush (thank you so much btw, you have been very precious)

First chapter Ao3 link

Inner thoughts in italic

______

His life had been exhausting from the very beginning, traveling from one town to another, with no real place to live and settle down. He aimlessly wandered around, taking along with him only the bare minimum, finding solace in brief moments of quiet. Now, Paz found himself tired, so when he stopped in yet another unfamiliar city, smaller than any other he had ever been to, he felt like stopping for a while.

Unaware that it was going to last quite some time.

So, as soon as he managed to find a suitable apartment to live in on a budget and a job to meet future expenses, he felt like something was going to finally move forward in the right direction, maybe. What he wanted now was to experience something that felt normal, or at least, normal enough for him.

Two days after moving in, he began his first day at work. It wasn’t anything fancy, an ordinary job as a barista in the local café. He had already worked in a coffee shop before, and this one looked reasonably quiet and simple, perfect to be comfortable enough to show his face since no one knew who he truly was.

He arrived early for his morning shift, and despite the snow-covered pavement, he decided to go for a walk around the block for a minute or two while smoking his first and last cigarette of the day.

He was trying to quit, but it was damn hard, especially with all the stress he was under these past months.

His new boss sounded pretty friendly right from the start, to the point where, during a chat over the phone, he had told him that he was glad he had found someone to help him out at the coffee shop in the morning. Since his daughter had started college and wasn’t able to help out anymore, he had to juggle between orders and paperwork in his back office in order to keep the boat afloat. The friendliness felt strange at first, but it was nice to have a person who trusted him for once. And he didn’t mind waking up early anyway.

It was still very early when the first customer walked in. He didn't care much at first until she spoke, and he answered back automatically, without a glance.

"Would you like something to eat with that?" he inquired, sticking to the script he'd learned to perfection a few hours earlier... but when he received no response, he raised his eyes for the first time that morning.

She was... staring at him?

No idiot, What are you thinking?

He politely repeated the question and saw her gaze focus on him again… and her cheeks turned slightly red.

Yup, she was definitely staring at him...

He managed a smirk when he finally took her order. It had been a while since anyone looked at him like that. Usually, the sole purpose of people staring at him was to pick up a fight, so he almost forgot what that felt like. And now that he had unintentionally made someone blush, a pretty girl nonetheless, he didn't mind that feeling at all.

As he approached the coffee machine, he noticed some movement out of the corner of his eye. When he instinctively turned to see what it was, he realized that she sat right in front of him, patiently waiting.

Luckily the place was almost empty, except for the owner who stayed in his office until lunchtime, so he could take his time as he enjoyed the view.

But then... his own brain returned to annoy him...

Don't ever think about it ...

Don't think about flirting with her

Just don't...

He engaged in an internal debate with his mind as he set the coffee powder in the machine and picked the right cup to use.

But Paz wasn't the type of person to think about something over and over again. He usually went straight to the point, occasionally dealing with the aftermath of his decisions in the worst way possible.

So after placing the lid on the cup, he grabbed a marker he always kept nearby and wrote a simple message, hoping he hadn’t misread her intentions.

That is if she saw it before tossing said cup in the garbage.

You're an idiot!

It's always nice when his own mind worked against him, but at this point, he didn't even care anymore. It was worth a try even if only to be rejected.

"Here you go, medium black coffee with two teaspoons of sugar," he then announced as he turned to face her again, wearing a smile so bright and genuine it caused her to blush once again, harder this time.

God, she’s even cuter when she’s flustered.

"Thank you" she babbled, taking the cup out of his hands. But as he was about to answer, her phone rang, startling her and making him mentally curse the damn thing for getting in the way.

He barely had the time to watch her hastily stand up and walk towards the exit and once at the door, turn around and smile at him once again.

His only hope rested on what he wrote on the cup he handed her and, for some odd reason, he actually hoped his gesture wouldn't go unnoticed. He knew deep down that he wanted to see more of her... again... and again.

He barely knew who she was and he already wished he knew everything about her.

Maybe, he thought, it was about time he went back to living his life the way he used to once...

__

This is basically the pov from Paz's point, bit short but I felt like it explain the situation better

I know this update took longer than expected but real life has been very stressful lately.

[actualaster]

Hey just wanted to say thanks for backing up that one person that pointed out demanding x length comments on fics the way that one poster did was done in an ableist way. The notes had several people tearing the guy apart and the OP of that post even misgendered him in the tags so it was really disheartening.

I've got chronic illnesses bed enough where sometimes when they're flaring I'm hospitalized. Sometimes I literally physcially can't comment on fics, and mentally can't even more often, but having them read out helps pass the time and keeps me going.

Posts like that one becoming common really do make me feel like I'm not allowed to engage with fandom or other free writing. Especially when people who try to point out the ableism get torn apart.

So thanks for saying your content is safe and welcoming for everyone and for backing up that that post was ableism.

I also found some nice stories you've written thanks to you commenting on that which is a huge bonus. I really like your writing and now have a new game to try and maybe look in to. The guys you wrote about in the werewolf stuff seem cool and the art I found of them was really pretty.

Anyway, thanks again. <3

You're welcome, anon!

As somebody with multiple issues (mental and physical) I, too, often find that I just am not up to commenting anything coherent--or sometimes even anything incoherent. So I know firsthand how it can just... Suck. Especially if you really want to comment but aren't able to.

And, as the OP shows... there's no agreed upon actual minimum. All those posts that say "just comment extra kudos or a keysmash"? Readers following that advice would probably get a vague post by somebody with the same mindset as the OP about "wow, all these people who can't even be bothered to leave a proper comment, bare minimum X amount, and all they do is keysmash, clearly they don't value authors". :/

I know comments are deeply important to a lot of authors--but there's plenty of ways to encourage comments that don't involve guilt trips and ableism and being passive-aggressive about it, and that are mindful of people who can't comment right away (or at all, as the case may be).

Also, thanks, anon! :D I'm glad you like my writing! That honestly just makes my night to hear!

That said, I just want to give fair and proper warning though--neither of the characters in the werewolf AU setting get a ton of screentime in the game. Explaining beyond that would be massive spoilers, though. If you're interested in the game itself, it's on Wii and PS3 (the PS3 version is part of a 2-game collection), and there's various side materials that are in Japanese. (One of the major ones is a manga, there's a masterpost with links to the scanlations available, but I don't think any of the other stuff has ever been fully translated by anybody?)

[houseisekai]

House Isekai: A Realm Reborn - Part 2, Through the Maelstrom (2 of 3)

House Isekai ARR Masterlist Here

—

Client: Hilda Valentin Goneril

Refusing to work with the newly reformed House Isekai due to Class VII, Duvalie takes her orders and storms off to Goneril territory, trying to get home faster. Not wanting to leave Duvalie completely alone, Raelyn and Fireteam Alpha-Nine accompany her.

Reports indicate of a giant serpent-like beast terrorizing the ocean trade routes near Goneril territory, and an unknown entity accompanying it…

—

(Raelyn) “I will accompany her to ensure their survival. Until then, House Isekai.”

Raelyn turned to the portal and walked through it.

After getting the minimum knowledge required about the Abyss Mages, Buck and his squad followed her through the portal.

(Kazuma) “…Wait a second, none of them knows anything about Fodlan. Why did we let them go anywhere alone?”

(Sitri) “…That’s a good question.”

When Duvalie stepped through the portal, she was still muttering to herself angrily.

(Duvalie) "Ugh, the nerve of those people! As if we can work hand in hand like nothing's ever happened!"

Her ranting continued, even when Raelyn stepped in behind her, looking around his environment.

(Raelyn) "...Duvalie, was it?"

(Duvalie) "And that jackass, Rean! What on EARTH ever made him think we were friends?! I ought to-"

Raelyn sighed and holstered his bolter. Even his footsteps didn't alert her.

(Raelyn) "Cease your complaints."

Duvalie spun around and opened her mouth about to continue until she realized she was only up to his lower chest. Her head tilted all the way up for her to even see Raelyn's helmet.

(Duvalie) "Listen you giant yellow tin can, you don't know what they're like!"

(Raelyn) "They seem calmer than you."

(Duvalie) "Tch, whatever. Why are you even here anyway? I can handle this on my own!"

(Raelyn) "Ah, then I assume you know the layout of the land? The person we're supposed to meet? What the state of the world even is?"

(Duvalie) "...I-I...I can just figure it out myself!"

(Raelyn) "Indeed."

Raelyn turned to the portal and saw the ODST squad walk in.

(Buck) "Right, we got the information we need. As for lay of the land, think one of the locals is about to tag along."

Aigis and Kazuma were on the other side nodding about to say something before the portal suddenly closed.

(Mickey) "...Or not."

...

Everyone was confused on why the portal closed.

Sitri made sure no one was looking at her as she whispered.

(Sitri) "Sothis?"

(Sothis) "Uh, don't look at me. I wasn't even the one who opened it."

(Sitri) "Wait, then where did...?"

...

(Romeo) "Great. Now we gotta wander around and pray to god it's the right way."

(Dutch) "Not even sure the good lord would poke his head out in wherever this is."

(Duvalie) "Wha-DID THEY CLOSE THE PORTAL ON US?!"

(Raelyn) "You were the one who wanted to do this alone."

(Duvalie) "IF I WANT YOUR INPUT, I'LL ASK!"

(Buck) "Enough of the shouting already! Complaining isn't going to do us any good. Besides, we got the data we need, we'll be fine...probably."

(Duvalie) "Fine, whatever."

Duvalie had her hand on the sword sheathe as she stormed off.

(Duvalie) "Let's get going then."

(Mickey) "Wrong way. It's behind us."

Duvalie quickly marched towards the direction Mickey pointed to, muttering something.

Raelyn slowly walked up to the squad.

(Raelyn) "I cannot speak for her, but it is a pleasure to fight alongside you."

(Buck) "Feeling's mutual. Come on, we should hurry before she pops a vein."

The five walked casually behind Duvalie who stayed in the front.

Fodlan, Goneril Territory, Evening...

[Stilness of Night - Trails of Cold Steel 3 OST]

The group eventually found a path leading towards a town inside Goneril territory, and continued on it until the sun began setting.

(Buck) "Huh. Place doesn't look half bad with a sunset."

(Dutch) "Yeah, somethin' you'd see from a storybook."

(Raelyn) "I have not had the pleasure of experiencing a world as quiet as this before."

(Duvalie) "Hm. My world was something kind of like this, but not as primitive to not have lamp posts at least."

(Romeo) "Think you're the most primitive out of all of us here, lady."

(Duvalie) "Excuse me?!"

(Mickey) "Changing the subject, just how far is this place?"

(Buck) "Shouldn't be more than a few minutes. The town according to that Sitri lady is about to come into view right about...Ah, there we go."

They eventually reached the top of a hill and saw a small fishing town with the sunset directly shining on top of it.

(Raelyn) "Excellent. We should reach the town by nightfall."

They all continued walking silently until Dutch spoke up.

(Dutch) "So uh, any idea what that creature is like?"

Everyone had read the report given to them by Sitri, but no one actually knew what they were in for.

(Romeo) "It said a serpent, so maybe an underwater snake or something."

(Mickey) "We aren't strangers to alien life, but I doubt it'd be simple to kill. This place seems to have magic after all."

(Raelyn) "It matters not. If our guns can work, then we can kill it."

(Duvalie) "I'm more concerned about those weird floating chubby things the Knights of Favonius mentioned."

(Buck) "What did they call them...Abyss mages?"

(Dutch) "Think that's it. They don't seem that tough to beat."

(Romeo) "Especially when we can put a round between their eyes from a hundred yards away."

(Duvalie) "If that's the case, then why are they so dangerous?"

(Mickey) "Guess we'll find out soon. Until we actually fight one, don't think we can properly assess the situation."

Finally, they reached the town's entrance. The concrete path shook beneath their equipment, gathering strange looks from the townsfolk.

Some mothers hid their children behind them while some of the men passing by whispered to each other.

(Romeo) "Think we might be standing out a little."

(Duvalie) "You all maybe, I look perfectly fine. Might be mustard bottle over here that's getting all the looks."

(Raelyn) "...You are referring to me?"

(Duvalie) "Duh! Who did you think I meant?"

(Raelyn) "What is 'mustard'?"

(Buck) "Good lord man, just how far in the future are you?"

(Raelyn) "It is the 42nd millennium."

(Dutch) "...Damn. That explains why you don't really seem to lighten up."

They made their way to the center of town, where multiple people kept staring at them.

(Romeo) "Any particular reason why we're standing out in the open like this? Not exactly doing us any favors with the people here."

(Duvalie) "Shut it, trying to find a tavern or something. There's gotta be one here."

Mickey and Buck helped Duvalie look around their surroundings to try and find a tavern. Romeo and Dutch shrugged and made sure the townspeople weren't going to try anything.

Raelyn was about to help when he heard small footsteps approaching.

It was two children who were chasing each other, most likely playing. They had failed to notice the offworlders they were running towards until a girl hit her head on Raelyn's leg.

(Girl) "Ow...! What in-"

Her eyes went wide when she stared up at the 8 foot tall Space Marine looking down on her.

Both the kids look terrified until Raelyn knelt down, trying to get on their eye level the best he could while taking off his helmet. He made sure his Bolter was strapped to his back.

(Raelyn) "My apologies. Are you hurt?"

(Girl) "N-...No sir."

Raelyn offered a hand to the girl. His hand was massive compared to the child, he could effortlessly crush her head with one hand.

Yet, he was extremely gentle in making sure not to harm or intimidate the children, the girl grabbing his hand and standing up.

(Raelyn) "If I can bother you for a moment more, do you know where the Tavern is?"

(Boy) "Um...It's to your right, mister. The building next to the docks."

Raelyn nodded and motioned away from them.

(Raelyn) "Thank you. Get home safe, now."

(Girl) "Thank you, mister."

The two kids appeared to be put at ease despite the size difference, and continued playing as if nothing happened. Something that shocked the adults watching.

The ODST's and Duvalie watched the exchange and were surprised that this walking ton of armor managed not to utterly terrify the two kids.

(Raelyn) "You have your tavern. Let us get to it."

(Duvalie) "...Right."

They continued off to the Tavern, still noticing all the adults watching them, albeit slightly more at ease.

(Romeo) "Now that sweet moment's over, time to see how well you work with a bar full of drunkards, big guy."

(Dutch) "Come on, I'm great with people."

(Mickey) "Sure, you are. How about Raelyn? Actually can he even get through the door?"

Duvalie was the first to enter, followed by the ODST's with Raelyn the last one.

He stared awkwardly at the doorframe, and back to his armor.

Even if he tried to crouch, he would break the doorframe.

(Raelyn) "I...will keep watch out here."

(Romeo) "Put those people skills to work."

(Buck) "Think you should be worried about doing that yourself."

[Another Round - Final Fantasy XIV OST]

Everyone inside the bar stopped talking when they saw Duvalie march in with the ODST's.

Duvalie saw the bartender and sat down on a stool.

The bartender was a bald middle aged man who had clearly seen better days. He had a scar over his left eye and a beard that was barely kept clean.

(Bartender) "...Can I help you with something missie?"

(Duvalie) "We're here on request of...what was her name?"

Buck stood next to Duvalie, making his visor visible so the bartender could see his mouth.

(Buck) "Hilda. Ring a bell?"

(Bartender) "Ah, Lord Holst's sister. And who exactly do I owe the pleasure of speaking to?"

(Duvalie) "I'm Duvalie."

(Buck) "Call me Buck, and this is my Squad. Fella outside is with us too."

(Bartender) "I see. And another question, who exactly ya workin' for? Don't see people dressed like yer group at all."

The people in the nearby tables began whispering. Mickey was the furthest from the group but he was only able to hear snippets of conversations.

(Man) "Hey, you think those are those House Isekai freaks? The ones from the calamity?"

(Man 2) "They sure as hell don't belong here, that's for sure!"

(Man 3) "Worse, they could be spies for the seppies'!"

(Mickey) "Think we might got a problem..."

Duvalie was clearly getting impatient, and before she could open her mouth and start a bar brawl, Buck butted in.

(Buck) "Mercenaries. We work for money."

The bartender raised an eyebrow as he eyed them up and down. Finally shrugging, he dropped the question.

(Bartender) "Fair enough. We'll send a letter to let 'em know people have arrived to take care of the problem. Shouldn't be more than a day or so. Now, ya buying something or am I going to have ta' throw your asses out?"

(Duvalie) "Hmph. Thought bartenders were supposed to be friendly."

(Bartender) "And I thought customers were supposed to be paying."

Now Dutch decided to intervene.

(Dutch) "Apologies for the lady. She's got a temper on her. Surprise us."

(Bartender) "Can do. You got gold?"

Everyone looked at each other awkwardly.

(Romeo) "Oh you have got to be kidding..."

(Buck) "Think we can get this one on the house?"

(Bartender) "This isn't a charity. And you're mercenaries, right? Surely you got some gold on you to get all the equipment on yourselves."

This got more people talking, and it was clear some of them were getting riled up.

Raelyn could hear the conversation from outside, and saw some of the adults from earlier getting a closer look at him.

(Raelyn) "..."

Raelyn's visor picked up more signatures. Some of them were armed. He used one hand to knock on the doorframe, alerting Romeo and Mickey.

(Romeo) "Hey, Gunny. Think things are about to get real ugly."

One of the customers stood up from his table and shouted with an ale cup in hand.

(Man) "Come on, pay the damn drink and quit causing a scene! Mercs always got coin on them! You one of those damn offworlders?!"

(Man 2) "Nah, worse than one, he's a seppie!"

(Man 3) "WE DON'T WANT ANYMORE TO DO WITH YOU, KEEP YOUR SEPARATIST MOVEMENT OUT OF HERE!"

More and more people riled up, making the ODST's keep a finger on their triggers.

Duvalie kept her cool on the outside, ready to lash out if someone dared make a move.

Raelyn grabbed his Bolter and calmly held it in his hands, watching everyone suddenly stiffen up.

(Bartender) "...Well?"

(Woman's voice) "Sorry, sorry. We'll pay, they're with us."

Everyone suddenly turned to a girl who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, putting gold onto the table.

Duvalie made a noise that no one could decipher if it was a swear or a gasp.

Buck turned to the girl who had just saved them from a potential firefight.

[End Song]

(White-haired girl) "They just forgot to bring their gold with them...Again."

(Bartender) "Hmph. Aren't you a little young to be the boss of a mercenary team, kid?"

(White-haired girl) "Could say the same for the second Blade Breaker."

(Bartender) "Hah, got me there."

(Duvalie) "I...You...!?"

(White-haired girl) "If you wanna complain, do it later and not in front of customers. Gives us a bad rep."

(Buck) "...Thanks boss."

Everyone quickly played along.

As Raelyn was about to point the Bolter at everyone, two more people got in front of him, motioning to the left.

(Blue haired girl) "Hey, got our room. Quit standing around all scary-like."

(Orange haired boy) "Come on, it's this way!"

The orange haired boy winked at Raelyn, and having no better idea, he played along.

The blue haired girl looked at Fie and nodded.

The white haired girl slid the gold to the Bartender and sighed.

(White-haired girl) "We'll take it to go. Keep the change."

The white haired girl turned to the group and pointed at the blue haired girl.

(White-haired girl) "Follow her and don't cause a scene again."

Duvalie looked like she was about to scream when she saw the blue haired girl. Not wanting to deal with this mob, Buck shoved her along.

(Duvalie) "H-Hey, what the?!"

(Buck) "Shut the hell up and move it, the last thing we want to do is start a fight!"

The ODST's, Raelyn, and Duvalie followed the orange haired boy to what appeared to be a rented out building. Amazingly, Raelyn could actually fit through the door.

When everyone was situated, the blue haired girl put a device on the door and window, and with a little static noise, she nodded in satisfaction.

(Elliot) "Whew, man! Things looked SUPER bad there..."

(Laura) "Oh...It's you. That would explain how the townspeople became aggravated so quickly."

(Duvalie) "Believe me, you lot are doing the same to me...!"

(Elliot) "Wait...Duvalie?!"

(Romeo) "Jesus lady, just who DON'T you know?"

(Raelyn) "More friends like Rean, I presume?"

(Duvalie) "WE ARE NOT FRIENDS!"

(Buck) "Clearly. Anyways, thanks for pulling our asses out the fire. Where's that white haired one?"

The door opened, and she was carrying some mugs of ale in her hand.

(Fie) "...Hey."

She casually gave most of the group their mugs, leaving Duvalie without one.

(Duvalie) "...Really?"

(Fie) "Figured you didn't want one...Actually, we didn't figure you'd be here at all."

(Romeo) "That's great and all, but mind explaining just who you people are?"

(Elliot) "I'm Elliot! That's Fie and Laura, and we were part of the original House Isekai. Class VII, to be specific."

(Dutch) "And clearly you know Duvalie."

(Laura) "For better or worse..."

(Raelyn) "Seeing the situation we are in, I would rather not alienate the only help at talking to the locals here."

Despite the fact he had a helmet, she could feel a piercing gaze shoot straight through her.

(Buck) "Agreed. So, what brings people such as yourselves here?"

(Fie) "Hm. Long story short-..."

===

Doomguy's Base, 1 Day Earlier...

[Briefing Time - Trails of Cold Steel 3 OST]

(VEGA) "All attempts of establishing a secure line has failed. It appears something is blocking our ability to respond."

Doomguy frowned as he checked the screens. Nothing was damaged on anyone's end, yet he was only able to receive Sitri's distress call.

He said nothing as he turned to the teleporter. It appears someone was finally arriving.

(VEGA) "Signatures detected. Class VII members: Elliot, Laura, and Fie. Authorize access?"

Doomguy nodded as he put his helmet on, letting the three former House Isekai members materialize onto the pad.

The first one was Laura, quickly followed by Elliot and Fie. Elliot appeared to be staggered while the other two were barely fazed.

(Elliot) "Oh man, still not used to that!"

(Fie) "Doubt we ever will."

(Laura) "Instructor. It's been quite some time."

They turned their attention to Doomguy who gave them a nod.

(VEGA) "It is a pleasure to see you all well."

(Laura) "Likewise. I only wish the circumstances were better."

(Fie) "Tried contacting everyone else we could, but they were either busy or didn't respond at all, so for now we're all you're getting.

(Elliot) "We received a distress call from Sitri. Is everything alright in Fodlan?"

Doomguy shrugged and motioned for them to follow him out the room.

(VEGA) "A distress signal was sent out, and normally we would have been able to respond, but an unknown variable has been preventing us from doing so. However, we are still able to keep track of any movement via teleportation of former House Isekai members."

(Fie) "If it has the ability to block dimensional calling, that's pretty strong, whatever it is."

(Laura) "Has anyone else been able to respond this entire time?

(VEGA) "Yes. Rean Schwarzer, Towa Herschel, Satou Kazuma, and Aigis have been the only four to do so."

(Elliot) "That explains why we couldn't call Rean and Towa."

(Laura) "Aigis I can understand, but for Kazuma to show up? That surprises me."

(Fie) "Guessing you haven't been able to ask them what's going on either?"

(VEGA) "Your assumption is correct."

(Fie) "Guess that means we gotta get our hands dirty."

Fie checked her gunblades and stretched her arms.

(Laura) "Hopefully combat won't be necessary."

(Elliot) "Buuut that doesn't really seem possible, if I'm being honest. Trouble tends to follow us no matter where we go."

Doomguy checked his shotgun's ammo as he opened up the door to another teleportation chamber.

(VEGA) "We thank you for responding regardless, but we will ask if you may investigate this phenomenon on our behalf."

(Fie) "Sure. Things are pretty stable back home."

(Elliot) "So, if we're going into Fodlan, how are we going to keep in contact?"

(VEGA) "We are assuming there will be a total communications blackout. If you do not respond within a week in Fodlan's time, we will directly intervene."

(Laura) "All right then. Looks like our goals are to find former House Isekai members and find out what's going on."

(VEGA) "Affirmative."

(Fie) "Mission parameters established then. Let's begin."

(VEGA) "...Strange. There appears to be a teleportation to the Goneril territory."

(Elliot) "What's so weird about it?"

(VEGA) "It was not activated by Sothis, but rather the tower itself."

(Everyone) ?

(Laura) "But there is no one there. Right? Instructor Byleth made sure of that."

(Fie) "Guess that's another thing we gotta investigate. First let's head to where that teleportation took place.."

(Elliot) "That's Hilda's last name, isn't it?"

(VEGA) "Hilda Valentine Goneril. Unofficial retainer to Claude Von Riegan."

Doomguy stood behind a console and pressed several buttons and looked at the members of Class VII.

(Elliot) "So three things to do, got it! We'll see you soon!"

(VEGA) "Good luck, Class VII."

Doomguy gave them a thumbs up before he pulled the lever.

They were absorbed into a beam of light and were taken to the location VEGA reported...

...

===

(Buck) "So...that portal wasn't theirs?"

(Fie) "No. Something else pulled you here, and we came to find out why, among other things."

(Elliot) "On top of that, we have to find out specifically why you all were brought here. Our group didn't have much reason other than it being chance but yours it seems almost deliberate."

(Raelyn) "I fail to think of anything unique happening to where I'd be brought into a world like this."

(Dutch) "Same with us."

(Duvalie) "Agreed..."

(Laura) "Well, despite the unusual circumstances that has brought us here, the former members of House Isekai ask to join forces with your group."

(Raelyn) "No objections here."

(Romeo) "It's either work together or be stuck in this place forever, so we might as well."

(Mickey) "You got our support."

The ODST's and Raelyn turned to Duvalie.

She crossed her arms, barely able to keep her anger down.

(Buck) "How old are you, exactly?"

(Duvalie) "SHUT UP! FINE! FINE! WHATEVER, YAAY WE'RE BEST FRIENDS! NOW ENOUGH!"

(Elliot) "Hah...g-glad to see she hasn't...changed?"

(Raelyn) "There is nothing about her personality that I have seen thus far that you should be glad about, Elliot."

(Duvalie) "EXCUSE ME?!-"

[TO BE CONTINUED]

[nurseofren]

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Read chapter twenty-three

Title: Prove it

Words: 6800

Warnings: Talks of pregnancy, mentions of vomit

Summary: A friend. A foe?

ST Rambles: I look pretty good for a dead bitch.

Okay. In all seriousness. In the five weeks that I have not updated, it has been chaos. School is absolutely kicking my ass this semester and I am not afraid to say it. Maternal-Newborn is a hell I would not wish on my worst enemy. With this said, I know any further updates will be sporadic, BUT - and I say this to snuff out any doubt on the matter - I will never, EVER, abandon this story. However it ends, rest assured that it will, in fact, do just that.

I thank you all for your patience and encouragement. This story is something I care deeply about and it just floors me that others do as well. I love interacting with you all, either on here or tumblr or TikTok (if you've made one and I haven't seen it, please tag me! My fyp does not work in my favor lol).

Be kind. Don't forget to be a person. All you can do is try your best.

[MASTERLIST] | BANNER/@elmidol

Good afternoon,

I can only hope this correspondence finds you safe and well.

The Board of Physicians sympathizes during this time of displacement and potential grieving. There are countless variables to be considered during uncertain times like these, but those of your safety and well-being are of the utmost importance. In an effort to convey the depth of our understanding, a unanimous vote has approved the decision to extend the dates of the trial by seven days. Upon receiving this official communication, you should plan to arrive on Canto Bight a minimum of two days prior to the morning of the initial hearing. An updated outline has been attached at the end of this e-mail for reference and sent to all pertinent parties.

Per the initial correspondence, Commander Ren is to receive a new provider prior to the trial’s start date. This objective has been met with the solemn barrier of the diminished population of approved nurses and physicians which resulted from the recent tragedy of Starkiller Base. There have been additional unforeseen circumstances also working to lengthen and altogether halt this approval process. Rest assured that we are doing everything in our power to ensure the trial proceedings occur in an organized and professional manner.

The emergent provider shortage, along with the unknown – and likely diminished – amount of surveillance retained from Starkiller Base prior to its destruction, has laid the foundation for the discussion of potential and probable employment during your time on Canto Bight. The discussions surrounding this issue are in their infancies. Should it be that you are to assume a care position during your trial, you will receive a further updated and in-depth itinerary. This would include the dates, times, and location you would be expected to work; this information would be accompanied by any specific limitations regarding your scope of practice while on trial.

Though you are encouraged to reach out to discuss any questions or concerns you may have pertaining to these new developments, the current agenda is to be followed with strict compliance. Should there be any changes, as stated previously, I will communicate these to you in a timely and conscious manner.

Respectfully,

Karmen Zag, Esq.,

Head of Communications,

The Board of Physicians

“Yeah, well, you can go fuck yourself Karmen Zag. Stupid ass name anyway.”

Not that anyone could hear you, nor that anyone would care, you could not help the petty jab. Karmen Zag, the faceless mouthpiece of the institution actively seeking your death, had little to do with anything. Karmen Zag was not the one who had carved initials into your body; that person was elusive to you now. Karmen Zag was not the one who kept you from sleep; that person was dead, killed by the trembling hands of the very survivor they’d created. Karmen Zag was not the one you were currently hiding from; that person, achingly kind and too ignorant to know different, still came to pick you up from shift every night.

Cramped in the corner of a supply room, you sat with your knees tucked to your chest and your datapad resting on your thighs, eyeing the vent at the bottom of the door to spy Mason’s tapping foot. In the seven days since waking up in the medbay, six days since returning to work to help with the increased patient population – or, at least that’s what you were telling yourself – you had found yourself with a desperate need to distance yourself from Mason. He was unaware of all that was haunting you, nescient to the fact he was at the epicenter of the majority of it. To see him was to remember the choice you’d made, to hate yourself for regretting it, to be morally ripped in half by the unwavering war in the back of your mind.

The first three days he would always sneak up on you, flurries of white lies leaving while you fumbled away from him and into the nearest room. I’m on call tonight was your favorite. No, you weren’t, though you had been staying in the on-call rooms to hide the fact that you no longer held a residence on this ship. No matter if you had not received official word on your employment status, you felt an unease when thinking of returning to Kylo Ren’s quarters. It felt too broken, like you’d be a stranger somewhere you’d once considered a home.

Eventually, Mason being an inherent creature of habit, you’d picked up on his timing. On the fourth day you’d decided to stake him out, finding he would spend exactly ten minutes waiting, send a message to your commlink, spend another five toying with his own as he waited for a response, eventually asking whoever was nearest to tell you to call him. You never did. It was despicable, watching his hope falter as the days passed and you were never there to leave with him; wretched, but that did not make it any less necessary.

So long as you were away from Mason, you couldn’t hurt him. If you could create a rift between the two of you so great as to discourage any further interaction, you could save him from all the suffering that came along with being associated with you. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny the comfort you felt in deferring any conversation with him. Avoidance may not be a healthy coping mechanism, but all the ones you’d learned of in school were useless to your set of circumstances; there was no talking this through, no way to speak of Snoke or Kylo or Robbie without getting someone else hurt. You were trapped in your own, sole company; whoever you had become recently, you were barely tolerant of them, let alone fond. It was growing increasingly difficult to recognize your own reflection. At some point you figured you might stop looking altogether.

Zag’s update had been present in your inbox ever since returning to work; with each read through – which, now, you’d have read a hundred times – you felt time pass by. Each night you spent time tucked away here, the cold tile permeating the scrub pants you now wore; the uniform you’d had on when you arrived back on the Finalizer had been too tattered to reuse. Not that you wanted to wear it; in those tattered, bloodied threads lay the obvious truth of how entirely you had failed at the only assignment you had ever been trusted with.

Trusted. The thought made you shiver. Yes. Trusted. Past tense. In every sense it could be. Thus, folded into yourself, away from prying eyes or well-meaning friends, you scrolled aimlessly up and down the message. Though its existence annoyed you, knowing full well that there was no empathy or genuine concern behind the decision to delay the trial, it also brought you ease to know this portion of your life was almost over. Again you were embracing the possibility of your death, only this time rooted in hatred for yourself, not Kylo Ren.

“Alright, well, can you tell her-,”

“Tell her to call you. Got it. Do every night.” One of your coworkers had grown exasperated with Mason – or was it with you? Either way, peeking through the vent slats, you spied Mason’s legs drag out of view. It made your heart fall, feeling more disgusted with yourself each day; it was this confusing combination of feeling a pull to run after him, to apologize to him with every breath you had left, only for that initial urgency to be swallowed by the knowledge that the action would be futile.

With tired eyes, not having gotten more than two hours of unbroken sleep since the sixteen you’d woken from, you looked to your left wrist. It was a routine gesture, pointless in the fact you had not worn the watch since finding it on your bedside table. Much like your uniform, only agonizingly amplified, the sight of the gadget inspired a hollowness in your chest. It remained in a pillowcase, hidden atop the bed you’d claimed. Each night you toyed with it, thumbed at the lifeless screen and wondered if it would ever offer another flicker; each night you caught the hazy reflection of two unfamiliar eyes, finding only the remnants of shattered promises staring back at you.

A sigh crept into your lungs when you stood, arms stretching and hands smoothing back your hair before going to activate the door. It hissed open without your indication; before you could question how, two hands pushed you out of the way and sent you flying face first into the storage shelves. Nose first, actually; the collision rang through your ears, pain throbbing in prominence as you stumbled for stability, arms widespread and eyes pinched shut.

“Oh! You have to be kidding!” Copper crept down your upper lip, cascading over your sharp tongue, foggy eyes opening to blood-stained fingers. “Watch where you’re going, jeez!”

Away from you sounded the door as it shut, but that wasn’t the sound that alarmed you. Across the room, near the sink – at least you hoped it was near the sink – came the horrendous retching that could only indicate vomit. The longer you listened, though, all the while blindly searching for a package of gauze, you found it wasn’t vomit, but an attempt towards it; echoes of dry heaves wracked the room, vomit absent even as the stranger continued in their effort toward expulsion.

A spill of winces left you, a grimace following suit when you tipped your head back, blood draining down your throat. You found a box of gauze squares and tore it open, peeling away a layer and rolling it into a cone before pushing it into one nostril. Vessels pounded against the material, injury soaking into it as you caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice said, groggy and breathless. “The refresher was occupied, and the occupancy indicator wasn’t on.” She took another breath, gasping back spit. “I figured the sink in here would do.”

Another person you’d been avoiding. Talia. Sick. As she would be, of course. It was something you’d fought thoughts on; it was too confusing, too unnerving to put the pieces you’d been offered together. Hux had left her room, had been so distraught. Talia had seized and ended up in the medbay. Armitage. Stars, how that word haunted you in the way it left her paling lips. She’d been so disoriented, so scared. Glassy eyes and green pallor. And the person she’d asked for was Armitage.

With these thoughts, dizzying as they had become, came the image of the very thing that tied them all together: that square-cut, printed, glossy ultrasound picture. Between nightmares of Robbie and desperately trying to find any amount of sleep, you saw it clear in your head, remembered how you’d lost your ability to stand when you first considered the reality of it. It all made sense clinically; the symptoms, the tangible evidence showing a yolk sac, the patient identifiers framing the monochrome image.

But, when you remembered running into Hux, remembered the ghost in his eyes and felt the rather unsettling demeanor – one not marked with errant hatred – he’d met you with, it all started to blur. Jumble. Your mind rejecting the thought that Talia and Hux-

Talia mewled, your eyes opening to find white knuckles outfitting a vise grip over the sink’s metal edge. The fluorescent lights lining the ceiling made it all too easy to see how sick she really was. Tears glinted down her cheeks, her hair dull in its tousled bun, a string of spit straying from her bottom lip; there was a suggestion of green just below the surface of her skin, exhaustion evident in the lavender drapes below her eyes.

A shaky breath left her before she rested against the sink, elbows bent and fingers rolling over her temples. For a moment there was a deafening silence, one that strangled you and emphasized the throbbing in your nose when you stopped breathing. It dissipated when Talia groaned, her head drooping and stance shifting.

“At least shift is done, right?” She sounded like she was talking to anyone. She didn’t know it was you. She didn’t know you knew.

Swallowing, dropping your hand from your face, you tried to think of anything to say. But nothing would come. And, considering how little time you had left to know her – execution or not – you saw no point in frivolous small talk.

“How far along are you?” It was a low rasp; frail in its existence yet bludgeoning the quiet that had preceded it.

She didn’t look up, but you knew she recognized your voice; her every muscle stalled, hair even stilling as your words sank into her. It was the first thing you’d said to her since she’d seized. In her silent shock it dawned on you that it had not been long since you’d been in a situation similar to this; the two of you, a pitting silence, a mess – obvious and blaring – surrounding you.

Only this mess was not something that could be cleaned. This mess existed outside all you had once thought to consider. Though this room was less gruesome in appearance, it held that same suffocated dread, carried with it the reminder that everything could change without a moment’s notice. Watching the color return to her cheeks, absentmindedly brushing your fingertips across the raised marks atop your thigh, it hit you how true that fact was.

A small sound – a swallow – filled the room, a sigh to accompany it. “Six weeks. I think, at least. Maybe more.” She stood then, crossing her arms and leaning against the sink. A wall stood between you and her, invisible yet so entirely present. “No one knows.” Her jaw fluttered at its hinge. The wall was for her; a façade, a crutch. She was scared.

The door lit cool shivers down your back, hands digging into your pockets, a weak attempt at a smile pulling at your face. “Congratulations,” you offered first, forgetting the circumstances before seeing her eyes fall to the floor. “Or not, I guess.”

She kept her eyes down. “I’m not showing, and I’ve been good about sneaking away to throw up, so…”

“Last week,” you said, her stare coming back to you, “after Starkiller. I fainted after arriving back here, and after I woke up,” I washed the Commander of the First Order’s hair and cried to his comatose body about how my life is falling apart, “I just had to know you were okay, so I visited you.”

“I don’t remember seeing you. I actually… How did you even know I had been admitted to the medbay?”

“You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.” You chewed your cheek, recounting any of those 48 hours made your pulse jump. “You weren’t well off when I found you, before they took you to the medbay, so I wouldn’t expect you to remember me being there.”

Her brow dipped for half a second, a crack creeping into that wall. “I didn’t know you found me. It’s difficult for me to even recall most of that day.” Her shoulders dropped, stature less rigid now. “Thank you, though.”

You nodded, not entirely sure why she felt it necessary to thank you. “Yeah. So, you were sleeping and I saw the tests ordered on your board. And then I found your ultrasound on the floor.”

Her eyes were so distant, pupils housing a familiar ghost. “It must have fallen when I was sleeping.” Her lips parted with the whisper, egregious loneliness overwhelming the thought.

It felt like the floor would fall out at any second, the interaction so fragile. Watching her with intent, measuring her reactions, you charged ahead into territory you’d been afraid to enter for so long.

“Talia,” you started, buying more time to think on your phrasing. Her focus startled back from wherever her mind had taken her. “I mean, maybe this is ridiculous, and maybe I’m so far off base in even suggesting it…”

Her arms dropped when a hand reached to tuck a collection of stray hair behind her ear, nose sniffing, teeth pulling at her bottom lip. She took her eyes from yours, breath picking up. That wall she stood behind was wearing.

You couldn’t stand beating around the bush any longer, sick of theorizing about it all. It fled out, no breath to separate any of it. “I’ll just say it: Hux was leaving your room when I came around. And he was being weird. So weird. I mean, he was being… would I say nice? Maybe just, less awful? He complimented me. And it was so weird, but I thought I would give him the benefit of the doubt because, you know, he’d just lost a lot of men. But then it was you in the room and I.. he was so distraught? That is barely the right word, but I mean? He just wasn’t General Hux. And then I found the ultrasound and remembered how you’d asked for ‘Armitage’ earlier when I’d found you, and-,”

A weep signaled the destruction of the wall she’d thrown up, hands clawing into her eyes and lungs heaving full of ragged, desperate air. “Oh, please tell me you didn’t tell him! He can’t- I don’t!” Sobs rolled off of her between each exclamation. “I haven’t told him. I don’t know how. I- he’s so evil! I can’t believe I ever slept with him!”

Seeing her come apart, feeling the guilt she did in every word she cried, you could only think to take her into your arms. In your hold you felt her shaking and the pain roll off of her in thick, grating waves. It was familiar, like she, too, had been existing alone; you had not noticed, so buried in your own avoidance that you had not thought to consider hers.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so- I’m so sorry! It makes me so mad that- ugh!”

“Hey, stop. Slow down,” you soothed, hugging her tighter. “You have nothing to apologize to me for. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay?”

“No, I have! I slept with my Master! And got pregnant! And he’s such a fucking jerk! He’s the whole reason you’re losing your career, you know? And I had sex with him! And I feel- felt real things for him!” A breath stuttered into her lungs. “I never meant for it to go any further than that first night, and then… fuck.”

It burned down to your marrow that you had the power to comfort her, knew everything she was feeling even if it wasn’t hatred that left you crying at night. She would be embraced in knowing you had also slept with your Master; it would minimize the guilt she now felt. To tell her you had fallen for Kylo Ren could help her know that she wasn’t alone.

Instead, feeling her tears accumulate on your sleeve, struggling to keep in your own, you kept quiet. She would not learn how you had burned so bright for your commander. It was selfish, but it was necessary. Self-preservation. She would be testifying against you, taking the stand right after Hux. Her not knowing would do no harm; it would keep her from having to consider or commit perjury. Talia now joined Mason, another soul to protect, another person you would lie to.

Several minutes passed before she stopped trembling, another few before the tears stopped staining your uniform. Humanity existed in these moments, and though you would hide how you knew the advice you would offer her, you knew she needed to hear it. A part of you did, too.

Moving your arms from her back and grasping both her shoulders, you locked eyes with her and forced her to see that you somehow understood her pain. “There is nothing to feel guilty about. Not that you slept with him, or that you got pregnant. Not that you felt things for him or that you still do.” Her eyes shut at that, a fresh streamlet dragging into her mouth. “You can still love him even if he has done awful things.”

“Gosh, how can you say that? He’s ruined your life,” she shuddered, grimacing before looking back up to you.

“I made the choice to take that blood. I had a choice,” your throat tightened, not knowing if you were reciting the words from their origin or from your dream, “I made the one I thought was the best at the time. Hux may be an ass in the way he has gone about the issue, but it’s not like he wouldn’t have reported me.”

She sobbed your name, confusion and hurt wrought in her features. “That blood saved that patient. You saved that patient. We both know that. You saved him and you’re suffering for it and I’m the one who wrote the incident report. He made me write it. Such a fucking bastard.”

Just like that, whatever weird internal truce you’d made with Hux disappeared. “Yeah, that is a dick thing to do, I will say that.”

She wiped at her cheeks, shaking her head. “I should have lied on that report.”

“And gotten both of us in trouble? That isn’t a solution.”

“If I had, you would be less alone in this. And I wouldn’t have to testify against you.” Talia’s eyes shot to the ceiling and back, frustration hot on her breath. “It’s just so-,”

“Unfair. I know. I have… I’ve beaten myself up about it too much not to know that.” This conversation was too similar to those you’ve held inwardly. It was becoming repetitive to keep sulking over something you could not change. But Talia, if she wanted, could change her situation. “We went through the same program, got the same schooling, I know you know your options here.”

She chewed her cheek, shaking her head. A long drag of breath found its way into her chest, releasing when your hands fell to your sides. “This is where you find out how stupid I am.”

It pulled at your heart to hear how hard she was being on herself. “You aren’t stupid. And if you are? Could’ve fooled me with your class rank and just general existence.”

A laugh, weak but not acrid. “Academics were easy. Career is easy. This life stuff? Messy. Complicated. I feel like no matter what I do, it will blow up in my face.” That earlier distance glazed over her stare, a glimmer of yearning present in the way her eyebrows pinched. “And what I want…think I want? I’m not sure it’s even possible.”

“What do you want?”

Talia shut her eyes, capitulation and indignance set in her features, jaw flexed. “I haven’t spoken to him since that night,” she whispered. “He watched me fill out that report. I was sobbing in front of him and he said nothing.” A hand smoothed over her hair and clutched into her bun, lips quivering for a moment. “I didn’t even know until last week. I woke up for a few minutes and they started talking about all that had happened – fainting and seizures and blood tests – and they immediately wheeled me down to have an ultrasound to confirm the hCG results and urinalysis.”

She paused, growing in distance the more she shared. “Was it just your electrolytes that caused the seizure?”

“Yeah. Yes.” She blinked back to the present. “Belkar actually said I was severely dehydrated and that my metabolic panel reflected that.” Talia was dancing between two timeframes; gentleness framed her face when revisiting that of the past. Something so delicate in her stare; adoration cusping on hope. “I always told myself I would never have children. It scared me seeing how sick they could become when we had our unit on pediatrics. I’d never wanted to feel so helpless as the parents I saw during clinical.”

It almost winded you to watch a single tear slip down her cheek, allowing her silence during her pause before she looked up at you, desperation drowning her eyes. She couldn’t find – or, maybe, did not want to believe – the words that overwhelmed her. “What changed?” You knew, but she needed to hear it for herself.

Her lips had become puffy, teeth pulling at the bottom one. She reached into the front pocket of her scrub dress, pulling from it that square print, only now with rolled, worn corners. “I know it’s early and there are so many things that can go wrong and I know I had been drinking before I knew, but…” A swallow bobbed her throat, a fond smile forming when she toyed with the scan. “When they handed this to me? Something just, I don’t know, came into view.”

A surge of immense pain coiled into you. In her reverie you saw yourself, realized how fortunate her situation was; she had something she wanted and even though it was complicated, she had a choice in the matter.

Again, her mind had wandered, distraction framing her tone; her brows pinched together for a second, a question sparking from her memories. “Have you ever wanted something so much, and maybe you didn’t fully understand it, but you just knew? For whatever reason, this was the thing you would do everything in your power to make possible? To have what you want, no matter how daunting or nonsensical it seemed?”

“Yeah,” you choked out, coughing against the new strain on your throat, “I think so.” Talia had that ability, though, and it cracked against your skull how helpless you were to go after what you wanted.

“You said that I could still love him if he’s done awful things,” she quoted, her attention returning to you. “I don’t love him. I don’t think I really know him that well. But…” She shook her head, shoulders shrugging and a puff of breath leaving her nose. “I miss him. It’s so dumb, but the bastard is nice to be around when he isn’t buried in politics. When he’s just a person. When he isn’t the General. When he’s just—” another smile, similar to her earlier one “—Armitage.”

“That has to be the strangest part of this whole thing.” A small laugh bubbled past your lips. It had been so long since the last one. “Armitage.”

“It was very odd at first. But I’m not going to cry out General, oh please General! when I’m cumming, so I got over it.”

Dumbfounded, all you could do was gawk at her candor. It warmed you, though, feeling like that first night you’d hung out with her. A good memory. Her cheeks pinked in your silence and the sight pulled you straight into a ruckus of laughter, tears – born in pain, falling from humor – and lightheartedness. It was short lived, but Talia joined in your fit; abashed giggles leaving her smile-tight face.

“I mean, I feel like it would be weirder if you were sleeping with Commander Ren.” Talia jabbed at your shoulder. “Calling him… Kylo? That just feels downright wrong.”

Instantaneously, your high fizzling into nothing before her, you found yourself right where you were when you’d said your first goodbye. Ky. It wilted your heart, shrouded whatever glimpse of happiness you’d just caught. Talia was too lost in the joke to notice you’d backed away from her, face turned so she couldn’t see the suffering rise to the surface.

“Ha, yeah. Wrong. So, so wrong.” You cleared your throat, brushing past the weak attempt at nonchalance, ready to be off this subject. “So you miss him? You miss… Armitage? Yeah, no. I’m gonna stick to Hux, if that’s alright?”

A final laugh lit from her chest, Talia waving you off. “That’s fine, of course. And yeah. I miss him.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you think it could work? Me and him, and—” she gestured down to her abdomen, placing the scan back in her pocket “—this?”

This was none of your business, and you doubted anything you could say would help her, but there was genuine curiosity in her voice. There was respect in how she wanted your insight into something so intimate and personal.

A sigh preceded your reply, unsure if you were speaking to her or yourself. “I think… Just as you said earlier: no matter if its daunting or nonsensical or even completely impossible – if you want it and you are willing to do everything in your power to get it?”

Hope lit behind her eyes, bloomed in her chest at the suggestion. “It could work.”

Struggle hid behind a mask of hope. Of course she did not know how it pained you to offer words that would never exist for yourself, and it wasn’t fair to ruin her moment of clarity with the bitter bite of ill-placed jealousy. There was no part of you that envied her condition, but instead what it entailed; you coveted her ability to choose the life she wanted.

Talia shook her head free, a giggle warm on her breath. “We should get out of here. Night shift is gonna run us off soon. You have the time?”

“Uh, not readily available. But I’m sure it’s way past shift change.” You started toward the door.

“Hey, I noticed you’ve been staying in the on-call rooms?”

“Oh.” It surprised you that she’d noticed. The knowledge warmed you to your core, both from embarrassment and appreciation. “Yeah, I know you guys have been swamped down here with all the fallout from Starkiller, so I just thought I’d stay near to help out.”

She tsked, your name a mocked plead. “You are Starkiller fallout. You need to rest. Especially now that you can. I got an update from Zag about the trial. You’ve got, what? Three or four days before Canto Bight? Seven until the initial hearing?”

She’d done the same math you’d gone over at length. Hearing it from someone else’s mouth made it that much more real. Frightening. “I know. I do, I know. But what’s wrong with spending them here?”

“You know as much as I do that working constantly drains the absolute soul from you. Even just working these past three days I have been dying for my time off.”

“Yeah, but you have a reason to be tired.”

“I’m pregnant. You survived a planet exploding all the while keeping the Commander of the First Order alive. Are you forgetting that?”

Talia, I wish I could forget all of it. “No, I’m just-,”

“And I know you’ve been blowing off that McCarty guy. He’s a physician, right?”

Maybe you’d been less discreet in your efforts toward avoidance than you thought. It felt like being caught; this web of lies was becoming a strain, less of a benefit, a hinderance rather than protection. “He’s… Mason doesn’t know what he’s asking for, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” Talia strode to your side, stern eyes on your own. “Look,” a breath softened her demeanor, “whatever happened on Starkiller, whatever you saw or felt – it’s affecting you. I don’t know what it is, and I’m not asking you to tell me – though, you can tell me anything – but at some point it becomes a choice to remain stagnant in grief.”

“Hey!” Talia had always been blunt, but her audacity now clawed at your patience.

“Okay, sorry, yes that was very harsh,” she placed a firm hand on your shoulder, “but you are the one who made me realize that. Here. Now.”

Tears threatened but remained stuck in your throat. “Like you said, I’m alone in this. I have to be.”

“The way I see it, you aren’t-,”

“Talia, I am.”

“You aren’t. Me being here and that physician coming here every night is proof of that.” You met her with silence. She shrugged. “You could have left me to deal with my issues alone, but you saw me and knew I couldn’t.” More silence on your part, her stare flicking between your eyes. “I see you. You can’t deal with this alone. I won’t let you.”

You fought to hide them, but one by one fell the tears you had not permitted before. For so long it seemed you had been shielding others from hurt, ensuring a safety they were not aware they needed. Talia was offering that to you, now. Rejection was the first instinct to kick in, feelings of doubt and thoughts of I do not deserve this blaring in urgency.

But then she spoke, naming what you had been too scared to confront. “Choose to not be alone. It doesn’t make you a bad person,” her hand left you, overwhelming assurance in her smile, “You’ve been strong for long enough, for so many others. Let someone be strong for you for once.”

The next breath you took was a million times lighter than any you’d had since seeing Kylo those days ago. She really did see you, more than she could ever know. It was imperfect, of course; you weren’t sure anyone would ever be fully aware of how much pain you were in, there was so much you could never share. It was her offer that brought you solace; it may be superficial for you, but Talia was in your corner, and she believed, knew, that it meant something. In her eyes, pooled with intensity, you heard her loud and clear: that oath, born in blood, was renewed here and now, its strength indelible even in silence.

“Now,” she activated the door, its hiss shivering down your spine, “I think Mason would love it if you caught up with him.” The two of you stepped into the hall, already beginning to part paths. “I’d invite you to stay with me but I, uh…”

“You’ll be otherwise predisposed?”

“…We’ll see,” rose bloomed in her cheeks, “I don’t think I’ll tell him. Not tonight. Not yet.”

“Ah,” you sighed, a yawn slipping past.

“Get some sleep! And maybe just… get some, you know?”

The joke registered too late, her paces halfway down the hall before you called out, “Oh. Oh. No, I’m not with- we aren’t anything more than friends.” Not sure if she even heard you, she waved behind her before turning a corner. Well. That’ll need clarifying.

Heat flared in your cheeks, several pairs of eyes weighing on your shoulders at the outburst. Would there ever be a day when you were not embarrassing yourself on this unit? Given this would be the last shift before going to Canto Bight, probably not. Eyes tracking your steps, deciding to surprise Mason instead of call him, you found your way to the on-call room where your entire world was set up; remnants of a past one, at least.

In it you gathered your belongings – a pair of back up scrubs, a toiletries bag, and the lifeless watch. There was a hesitance before placing the device with the other items. Six nights you had spent staring at its blank face, resenting the stranger you’d come to see. Glancing your face before placing it in the bag, you did a double-take. In the most minute details, barely there, you found a familiarity in the eyes you met; they were less dull, something like life or light peeking through the surface.

You dropped the gadget into your pocket, gathered your uniform into the bag, and took a final glance at the shelter you’d sought amidst a storm that had nearly consumed you. Even though nothing had truly mended, there was comfort in the absence of solitude; in the face of probable death, the explicit knowledge that you were not alone made it less daunting. Less impossible.

A final breath brought the door to a close, footsteps leading you into the vast expanse of the Finalizer. The change in air was nice, lungs welcoming the difference and cluing you into the fact you still had a gauze square shoved up your nose. It took a tug to pull it from its place, a sting pinching at the sudden release of pressure.

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling a new stream of warmth trickle past your lips. Two fingers pressed to your mouth, testing for a mirage but coming back with the real thing, red creaks splintering into the ridges of your fingerprint. Without thinking you wiped it down your scrub top, forgetting you were no longer clothed in camouflaging black, but instead unforgiving grey. “Fuck!”

“Wasn’t this how I left you here the last time?”

The airlock must have snapped, lungs solid, muscles frozen. Tension seized your ribcage, pulse plummeting, blood bounding against tuned ears. Every bit of moisture abandoned your mouth. Every bodily process you could think of stopped.

There was no modulation, each word raw, bare, and clear as the last time you had heard their founder. At least, the last time you’d heard it while awake. It was less haunted now, filled not with insidious rage but rather bone-chilling earnest.

“I suppose not, given it’s your blood tonight.”

He drew nearer, boots heavy and steps paced to perfection, the rhythm of his stride an echo of your heart. Kylo Ren was less than three paces from you and all you could do was endure the sensation of a singular ruby droplet following the line of your artery, dragging past your clavicle, and ghosting the skin over your sternum. The crimson trail began to dry, steps no longer sounding when you forced yourself to look up.

Chaos tore into the base of your spine, every nerve ending firing at the sight of his bare face, no helmet to veil the visage you had memorized. The black strip rested in prominence, striking through his features; in it you found a curious attraction, finding it fit him. The wound was less severe now, healing with time. He wore no helmet, but that by no means meant there was no mask keeping him at a distance only he knew the measure of.

“Where have you been, officer?” Cyanosis was a likely reality, breath still evading you as each word fell in baritone; petrified pupils not knowing where to focus. “Your services finally required, and yet you were nowhere to be found.”

Nothing. No words. No sound. No thoughts. Barren in every aspect of cognizance, you remained silent and still, only knowing to perceive him for what he was: superior.

A twitch at his brow, a narrowing of his eyes. Studying. Testing. “How unfortunate; starved for words when they would actually count.” His injury moved fluidly against his words, a beauty in the way it ebbed with each syllable.

A ping sounded at your waist, commlink buzzing in your pocket.

Languid, Kylo’s eyes dipped toward the sound. “You should get that,” he drawled, eyes twitching before conquering yours once more, “could be important.”

His tone haunted you, demeanor too suggestive. You swallowed against a dry throat, locked in his stare, knuckles brushing your watch when you took out your commlink. It trembled in your grip, shocked muscles heavy with weakness. His concentration had become adamant, palpable, an eyebrow prompting your attention to whatever message had triggered the alarm.

Concerning the defendant,

In the week since the previous correspondence, it has come to be that the defendant is to partake in nursing practice during her time on Canto Bight. This allows the Board of Physicians ease in collecting surveillance imperative to their final judgement.

Commander Ren’s decision to bar the defendant from external practice has been nullified as to not contradict this process.

In permitting the defendant’s practice while on trial, the objective to obtain a new provider has been benched. Due to this, the defendant shall remain assigned to her current Master while residing on Canto Bight…

At last, breath flourished your lungs, an inadvertent gasp thrusting a glutton of oxygen into your airway. Crazed eyes darted over the message for any sign of a mistake that would prove it to be falsified; the only thing you could find was finality, a document containing the proposed schedule attached at the end of the message.

A buzz washed through your brain, overstimulated by the information, everything around you suddenly all too close and bright. Jaw bound shut but still trembling, eyes low and unfocused, a familiar pressure flicked just under your chin. The Force tipped your face upward, pupils strict in their position, passing first over a tense jaw and landing at last on the challenge that lay behind Kylo Ren’s glare.

“I’ll see you on Canto Bight, officer.” A serpentine smirk slithered along his lips, one stride bringing him so his face was hidden, shoulder linked with yours, and fingers jut out to graze at the hidden permanence atop your left thigh. His voice, an onslaught of emptiness, a cold threat, suffocated all that surrounded you. “You wanted to give me more? Prove it.”

[raimi]

So this morning, I got onto a team in Pokémon Café Mix, and writing that all out makes me really want to put an accent on the E in Mix, except there isn't an E so I guess I'm screwed there. Anyway, for those of you who don't play the game, someone over on the development team was just talking, chatting about what features they were going to add to the game to keep it interesting and fun as time went on. Then some genius (and I use that term extremely sarcastically, mind you) came up with an *ahem* brilliant idea.

"Hey! Let's make it so that people have to succeed at a group project in order to get limited-time characters!"

And if you've never been part of a group project before- oh, who am I kidding, we all have, haven't we? Even if it hasn't been a formal thing, everyone who's been on a team knows that the way it works is one person does all the work while the rest of the group makes the bare minimum effort, if that, and just coasts on the fruits of the poor sap's labor.

And on the team that I first joined, I had the misfortune of being that sap. Let me tell you, there's no better welcome back to a game you played for months at launch than getting stuck on a team full of people who do absolutely nothing during an event that only lasts for about a week. And then you spend like five of those days desperately trying to get the rewards on your own.

Obviously, I eventually realized I would have to get onto a better team if I wanted to have any chance of getting the limited character. So I went onto Tumblr and started reading through the Pokémon Café Mixé tag, hoping I'd be able to find a good team that was looking for members. I scrolled past a few for fuck knows why before I found a post that looked promising.

This was it. The moment of truth. I checked the date on the post, and it was from three months ago. Obviously, this meant that on the off chance that they actually still had a slot open, they were going to be extremely picky about who they let on. I mean, that or the post hadn't actually worked all that well, given that there weren't any notes on it at all, but that was clearly less likely than the first thing.

I took a deep breath, and then began to write an application to an event team for a free mobile game with all the seriousness of someone trying to get an actual job, though this was far more important than any career could ever be. You start with a greeting, then make sure that you emphasize your dedication and what an asset to the team you would be, citing your former team experience as evidence. (Luckily, this person wouldn't be able to know that I hadn't turned in my two weeks' notice since Pokémon Café Mixé doesn't actually have a chat feature in it.)

And this morning, as I said at the beginning, I got in. So now it's just a matter of making sure I get to stay in. I'm going to put even more effort into this team than I did with my old completely inactive team. I'm going to work so hard that the person whose post I replied to is going to send me a private message on Tumblr.

And that message is going to say, "Hey Apollo, I noticed you've been putting in more work to the event than literally anyone with a modicum of sanity or perspective to the fact that this is literally a children's game ever would. Are you okay?"

And you know what I'm going to say?

I'm going to say NO! Because I'm NOT okay! I'm not fucking okay! And I'm not going to be okay!

Because this team. This team that I worked so hard to get onto. This team that was going to be my chance to actually get the limited character.

This team isn't even as far through as the last one was.

[minblush]

Leave mimi alone. If you could get over your jealousy for one second you would see would a sweet person she is. I follow her because she doesn't look for fights unlike blogs like yours. Yet there are fights on her blog cause of people who don't have anything better to do like you.

so it’s been a while and i finally worked up any sort of courage to address all of this and i will do it under this one ask because out of all the ones mimi’s “fans” sent me, this one was the most civil

i’m still shocked that i got so many people attacking me over rightfully calling mimi out, and ofc there is no jealousy involved, i guess i just don’t understand why she is the blog that anyone would want defend, like let me summarize

she only gets notes because she is fast with her updates, why is she fast? she just takes updates from twitter and twitter translators a lot of the time without crediting and without any factchecking herself

she spreads unverified information and rumours because of it and got into trouble because of it more than once

she posts sasaeng information and photos taken outside of official schedules in the boys’ private time despite being criticized for it (like the jikook vacation)

she also still has the fact that she “stalks” the boys in her bio, even though i know for a fact people told her many times it’s inappropriate in the context of the fan culture in korea

she is very ignorant about mental illness (the post where she claims that jimin suffers from depression and was saved from it by jin as a fact is still up btw), the entertainment business in korea, colorism and racism (she thinks “reverse racism” is an actual thing lol) and she spreads her harmful opinions by writing essays about it to her large following

what bothers me personally a lot as a gay person, she is one of those obnoxious delusional shippers and normalizes that behaviour to her followers and also fetishizes gay men to a really ugly extent (i’m not talking here about normal shipping BTW I SHIP LOWKEY TOO, it’s about boundaries though, i’m talking about writing conspiracy theories and fetishizing, FETISHIZING, treating sexuality as a joke and treating it like a commodity, direct quote from one of her very “funny” posts: “BTS is gay ! Shippers : Of course. Why would I stan straight boys ? Who does that ?”)

(and yes as someone said in the tags, apparently she also did make racial jokes and jokes about north korea etc, but i haven’t seen those myself, only saw people mention it second hand so since i don’t have receipts i wasn’t going to include it initially)

and that is all before the jonghyun issue, which i feel like is kind of a culmination of a lot of what i dislike about her blog

she didn’t wait for an official confirmation from SM and immediately started posting about his death, all actual fanbases of jonghyun and shinee waited until after the confirmation to actually post about it, because can you imagine if it wasn’t true (no matter how real it may seem?), just like other actual bts fanbases most of these serious blogs wait for official confirmations for anything, unlike mimi who just jumps on any opportunity for notes and for her to be the news bearer. you could see people asking her to wait until the confirmation in the notes of her first posts, BUT SHE DIDN’T LISTEN, instead she let her posts spread and only added confirmation much later when it came out (which is what she does in general, spreads rumours / unconfirmed info, then when confirmation or denial comes out she edits the post and apologizes in some extremely lowkey way, despite her getting the heat for it she keeps repeating the same pattern)

her posts were made from the point of view of a bts fan instead of a human being, she was extremely tribal by saying things like that “as a bts fan, as an army” i offer my hand to shawol etc, “jonghyun took care of bts”

then she made her post about saying how we should be grateful the boys are under BigHit and not SM, because bighit supports the boys in expressing themselves about mental illness and provides help for them, blaming the company and the entertainment business for jonghyun’s death, showing her complete ignorance, not only do we not know what bighit is actually like behind the scenes (do people not remember the scandal where one of the managers hit jungkook on camera?), but the issue is that this didn’t apply to sm anyway… because…jonghyun was very outspoken about his issues with mental illness, so were other sm artists like taeyeon or leeteuk, there was/is even a support group for idols under sm that these guys as well as others like onew or yoona were a part of

and depression isn’t that simple, jonghyun had friends and outlets, but if anyone has ever been depressed or suicidal, then you as i would understand that sometimes that doesn’t matter, depression is a serious illness and the illness just won in this case, this is an opportunity to spread awareness about the illness, to urge people to seek treatment as well (jonghyun sought it himself) not try to analyze and pin it on any company or any circumstance

yet mimi linked jonghyun’s death to being oppressed by his company, by having to hold things on the inside, as if he didn’t talk about it candidly and didn’t express himself in his music

what i also found distasteful but i also can’t prove anything and people grieve differently, i still raised my eyebrows because when she lashed out at people who got rightfully angry for her for using this opportunity for notes and to make it about bts and bighit, she revealed that she was upset and cried because she thought about how it could’ve been “one of her idols” that this happened to and that she didn’t even know shinee that well… she was very coherent up until that point, but when people called her out she started to cry and be very emotional and started to talk about how she had liked shinee since debut and jonghyun was her favourite (so she has been following them for like 10 years? that is longer than i have been into kpop and i am OLD and have liked shinee since 2009.. so she’s been a fan that long and doesn’t even know the basics of what jjong was like and what he dealt with?) and then went onto analyze his lyrics and talk about how she should’ve known, and her blog transformed into other people consoling her despite her being the person that upset so many people with what she had done… that stuff doesn’t add up for me, but that is just speculation since grief is different for everyone etc, it’s just something i personally can’t buy considering how she behaves online a lot of the time

she said she was sorry without actually acknowledging what she did wrong and after people defended her vehemently she actually changed her tune and started to say things like how it was a misunderstanding and even asked her followers to approach any people who were still “misunderstanding” and let them know, which,,, what even? i suppose i’m party this to thank for all the people that told me i was an ugly/jealous loser that should delete and/or die

and despite her being like this, despite her never learning from her mistakes, people still keep defending her and attacking people that call her out, and why? 

i would agree if it were one mistake, everyone always says.. let’s educate her instead of attacking her, let her learn from her mistakes, that’s what life is all about, right? i agree, people grow from their mistakes

but.. SHE NEVER LEARNS! she keeps repeating the same things, no matter how many times she gets in trouble, and you guys keep enabling her, i think it’s this culture of fans stanning other fans that creates toxic behaviour like this, why would she change? why would she learn? why would she start and mature, why? when she has so many people telling her that it’s okay, that she is right and everybody else is wrong everytime she messes up? i think people that send me those messages are complicit really

i just wonder, what will she have to do for you guys to see that she isn’t someone worth sticking up to to this extent, because due to this environment, she won’t learn?

is she the hill you guys want to die on?

i often see people saying that she does a lot for the fandom, but? she doesn’t actually do anything special, she basically takes from others and profits from them, if you follow actual update blogs that do their homework, like allforbts, ktaebwi, sweaterpawsjimin, or vlissful on twitter, you will see the difference right away.. those are the people that do work for the fandom, she redistributes and doesn’t even thank those that did the work, there are people that spend dozens of hours translating and researching, books worth of content, people that paid for japanese tv subcriptions so they can record those shows for you, those are the people that do a lot, reposting tweets, anyone can do that (and a lot of people do, which is fine as long as due credit is given, what i’m saying is… it isn’t special and doesn’t require any effort at all, so why worship someone for like… doing the bare minimum? and sometimes not even that?)

why would you guys go to such an extent to then attack people that called her out, and rightfully, you guys would tell me a person with depression and an actual fan of jonghyun, that “if you care about jonghyun so much why don’t you join him”

over mimi? over someone who acts like all that i described? is that worth it… i don’t understand this cult-like mentality, even if she were an actual angel that did save the fandom, what in the world would make this okay?

i now have anxiety every time i try to get on tumblr and will have to work to overcome it because you people told me to die over calling HER out while going to her and telling her how everyone else sucks and she is a lovely angel…

and why she doesn’t pick fights? i talked to her in the past and let me tell you… she is stubborn and won’t change her mind and when she sees she can’t out-argue and manipulate the person SHE BLOCKS THEM and doesn’t let them express their views on her blog, no she only lets views that paint her as a victim there, she doesn’t let her followers see any validand CONSTRUCTIVE criticism

that’s why she seems like she is above it, like she is only nice and the angel and people like me are scum for ever saying anything, she is very smart about that aspect of things. but she isn’t above criticism (and neither am i), she is a human being like me or you :/.

i’m not telling you to hate her or attack her, don’t please.., i’m just asking you to see her for what she is, someone who is notes and attention hungry, someone who refuses to learn from her mistakes and someone who actually flaunts her ignorance, please give your time and attention and thankfulness to people in the fandom that aren’t like that :( and mostly, don’t go around telling people that call her (or anyone) out to die like.. please?

if she wanted to defend herself she could always talk to me, or anyone, or address it in a constructive manner, instead of relying on her followers to do that for her while publishing dozens asks on her blog that praise her and tell her how everybody else is wrong

she isn’t a celebrity, she can speak for herself

the fact that she chooses to deal with things the way she does says it all, right?

just…please reconsider stanning other fans, it creates all this toxicity, nothing good comes out of it, that is mostly what i wanted to say

and she specifically isn’t worth all the hurt

thanks