#''Okay but in my defense I had Had Enough''

[fandomnerd9602]

My Tears Ricochet

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Warning ⚠️ ANGST AHEAD ⚠️

Pain, trauma, grief, all things that can manifest itself in an instant if you’re not careful enough to treat it. For your doe mate, it all came back to her in an instant.

It all began when you and Wanda arrived at the Sanctuary to a whole commotion going on. You ran up to Yelena, Natasha’s wolf sestra, her tail swishing happily.

“What’s going on?!” You asked the blonde haired wolf.

“Natasha went on a solo op,” yelena smiled, “she caught Dreykov. Hauled him right into the courtroom”

“Dreykov?” Wanda asked. You noticed she went pale white, she started stumbling a little.

“Bambi?” Yelena asked before jumping and helping you to catch your die from falling.

Wanda was breathing heavily, her heart rate jumped as the world around her was blurring. She knew that name. In her mind, she was back in that horrible place.

The lights became too bright. The noises became too loud. Tears flooded Wanda’s eyes.

“Wanda?! Bambi?! Baby can you hear me?!Get her out of here!” The voices of you and Yelena seemed to intertwine as Wanda tried to focus herself. She couldn’t focus herself. It was all too much.

“Get away! Get away from me!!!” She shouted, throwing her arms around. You felt a slam of her hand and arm to your face and chest, you fell to the ground in total shock.

Wanda’s vision cleared just enough to see what she did to you. “D-detka? Baby I-I didn’t mean to…”

She bolted. Running down the hallway of the place she had started to see as home.

The only thing that echoed in her ear was you calling after her. “Wanda! Baby it’s okay! I’m fine! Wanda!!!”

Wanda practically locked herself in the supply closet. Curled up in the fetal position, Wanda tried again to steady her thoughts but the memories, the pain, the torture, it all came flooding back.

“Wanda?” Natasha’s calming voice called out to her.

“G-go away” she cried into her long sleeve shirt.

“We’re not going anywhere, my doe” you answered back. You sat there on the ground outside of the closet.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered against the wood of the door.

“Baby you have nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured her.

It took a few days but Wanda found herself and you sitting in the waiting room of one Doctor Stephen Strange - the only doctor your doe trusted at this point. But even with that, she found herself shivering just being there.

You tried to reach across to take her hand and calm her but she retracted her hand from yours. It wasn’t that she didn’t yearn for your touch. In her mind, she had hurt you too much already. The red bruise on your face was still evident. Just seeing it caused Wanda’s heart to shatter again.

In truth, the bruise didn’t bother you. Sting a little at first but you knew it was a defense mechanism and your doe could never hurt you intentionally. So you put on a brave face and tried to make sure she still felt loved. But she kept her distance from you still.

“Wanda?” Doctor Strange wandered into the waiting room, his honey badger tail waving side to side.

Wanda got up and you followed suit.

“Sorry (Y/N) this is just Wanda.” He offers you a sad smile. Wanda turns to you a little worried.

“I’m not going anywhere, my doe” you reassure her.

My doe. That phrase once gave her such comfort. Now it almost seemed like a cruel joke after the way she hit you. Wanda felt she could never forgive herself.

She gave you a solemn nod and walked off with Strange, leaving you alone in the waiting room.

Doctor Strange guided Wanda into his little office. She took to sitting on a couch while he took his favorite red chair.

“Wanda, first things first, this is a safe space,” he began softly, “ you can tell me anything and I won’t tell anyone outside of here. So what brings you to my office today?”

“A couple days back, I-I freaked out on my detka.” She tried to explain.

“A panic attack. Okay”

“I-I hit my detka. I-it was an accident! I-I didn’t mean to hurt my…”

Strange raised a hand up, “I know. It was an involuntary reaction to a traumatic memory.”

“Yes.” Wanda took a deep breath and laid her head against the couch’s arm.

“What do you feel triggered it?”

“Dreykov.” The answer came out as a mere whisper as the memories came flooding back again.

The story of her past. It kept her up in the early hours of the morning. The only thing that brought her a soothing balm was the feeling of your arms around her and now even that held a bad memory. All because of her actions.

Her story. The one she laid out for Doctor Strange was as followed:

Wanda Maximoff was born to her momma and poppa along with her twin brother Pietro. At a young age, she and her brother were called freaks for the antlers they had. She did everything she could to hide them, file them down, wear hats, and yet the humiliation continued.

Eventually, at only twelve years old, her home and parents were destroyed in an accident, leaving only Wanda and her brother to survive together. They were on the streets until age sixteen.

That’s when the facility, actually known as the Red Room, found them. The doctors and staff promised room, food and board. It was all a trap.

Countless hours of torture and near death experiences haunted them. Eventually Wanda and Pietro were separated.

Wanda felt truly alone. And then she met another deer hybrid by the name of Vision. He seemed to be from the British forests. He was nice, kind and caring.

Wanda found his kindness and compassion really endearing. She found herself falling in love with him.

Eventually she fell pregnant by him. But then the facility separated them too. And then came the needle pricks, the doctor’s probing, the loud noises, the heavy medication that kept her docile and unable to focus.

And then they came into the world. Her boys. Two of them. She whispered their names in their ears. Billy and Tommy. She was in love the moment she saw them. They were her hopes, her future, all wrapped into two small bodies.

The boys were with her for less than three months when the facility and its director Dreykov came and snatched them away from her. She begged and pleaded but they refused. She hadn’t seen her boys since.

And then came the task force. Natasha, her eventual wolf pal, led her team on the raid of the facility Wanda was trapped in. Natasha was stern yet motherly in all the right ways. A scientist was about to kill Wanda when Natasha burst into the room and slashed the guy to ribbons with her wolf claws.

“Hey there Bambi,” her eventual friend said, “wanna get out of here?” Wanda couldn’t get out of that facility faster.

Wanda then went on to explain how she met you and get butterflies instantly. She didn’t know what it was at the time but she knew she wanted to never leave your side again.

“And now I feel like I messed it up! All because of Dreykov.”

Strange looks to her, “Wanda you are NOT the villain here. You are a survivor. And a brave one at that”

“How do I move on? How do I learn to live again?”

Stephen chuckles, “seems like you’re doing a fine job already with (Y/N).”

“But I feel that I messed that up too!” Wanda buries her face in her hands.

“What would you hope to say to your boys?” Strange asks her gently. “Some day”

“They won’t hurt you ever again. Your momma and poppa will keep you safe. (y/N) is a good mate they will protect you” Wanda hugs her legs to her chest.

“Use that. Make it your mantra.” Stephen gently replies. He takes off his glasses and puts down his notepad, “you are stronger than you know. Smarter than you realize. And braver than most people.”

Tears begin to make their way down Wanda’s porcelain face. “Thank you Doctor Strange.”

“Only speaking the truth.” He gives her a sad smile. “Just take it slowly. You got yourself a wonderful support system with you. (Y/N), Natasha, and the rest of the staff at the sanctuary.”

Wanda gave it some thought. She had Natasha. And at the end of the day, she still had you. A small smile made its way across her face, “I do”

Wanda left that appointment feeling tired and yet a little confident too. You were right there in the waiting room, waiting on your doe.

She came right up to you and hugged you tight. “I love you so much” she whispered in your ear. You rubbed her back reassuringly, making sure that she felt every bit of love that she deserved.

“I love you, my doe” you kiss her shoulder affectionately, “I’m not going anywhere”

It was a long road ahead. But Wanda was confident she could face it. She had you. She had Natasha. And eventually she’d have Pietro and her boys back in her arms.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @julieromanoff @revanshand @russianredassassin @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7

[maelancoli]

PADDING OUT DIALOGUE SCENES

in another round of very unprompted writing advice i thought i figured i'd share my two cents when it comes to the topic of struggling to fill out conservational scenes. another thing i see a LOT of lately is a general fretting among writers who find that dialogue comes easily to them but the rest is a struggle. for me it's often been the opposite, i had to work at honing the talking part but description? i've always done a little too much tbqh. but funny enough the solution for both is not disconnected.

a lot of it will come down to knowing your character. what are their ticks? what are their filler words? are they bold and expressive when they're speaking? or are they withdrawn and shy? deciding the behavioral quirks of your character will improve your instincts when trying to be more descriptive. do they fidget with their clothes? do they pick up objects and toy with them? do they fold their arms around themselves or have other defensive posture? where do their eyes go when they speak? do they look around a lot? do they have an intense, unwavering gaze? do they zone out to look at other objects? what are they looking at when they do look away to think or listen? (this is also where having a faceclaim to build characteristics and mannerisms around can be helpful, not just in rp settings but any kind of fiction.)

"i guess...i don't really know how i'm supposed to feel about it," he admitted.

okay so we already have information here to expound on. the character is uncertain and conflicted. how would that effect their demeanor outwardly?

"i guess..." he trailed off with a sigh. he shook his head and his gaze grew unfocused, wandering away from his companion to stare blankly at a clock on the mantelpiece. his index finger tapped lightly at his knee. "i don't know how i'm supposed to feel about it, ya' know?" amir admitted with a shrug. he finally looked at the other man again, but there was a vulnerability which brought a sheepish shadow to his tumultuous gaze.

we've shown he is pensive with a wandering eye and that he's a little uncomfortable with his nervous tick of tapping. the next step is to consider the inner workings of their PoV. what does the scene itself call for them to be doing and thinking between lines? what does the emotion and tension of the scene—or even the comfort and familiarity of it—reflect inside them?

"you don't have to know right now," malik pointed out. he lifted his hands from where they had rested on the surface of the table to turn his palms outward, leaning in closer. "it's okay not to know." they held one another's gaze for a silent moment. amir's lips pressed together and he swallowed down the lump which had formed in his throat. he was not an emotional man. he had always prided himself on his restraint. but it was all beginning to be too much and the empathy in his friend's eyes was only another weight upon his already bowed shoulders. "...maybe you're right," he mumbled thoughtfully.

here we have shown his friend's gesture, adding more presence to the environment around them. and then we have given a little space for the character to feel. we have given a little information about who he is, or at least how he thinks about himself. by bringing his eyes back to his companion we have shown he is opening up, he is actually leaning into the intimacy of comfort and listening. but the mumble shows he is still not confident in admitting the need for help. it shows he has not even accepted fully the grace he's being given.

it isn't just what a character is saying, it's how they're saying it. it's how they're carrying themselves. it's how they're receiving the other characters' words. and showing how they're carrying themselves along with their inner feelings will also help show what is driving their dialogue. it will create a contrast if they're not being a reliable narrator, if they're contradicting or if they're withholding etc.

taking time and being patient with yourself to expound upon these things and to develop your character will make them more real. the more you practice and get to know them, the more instinctive and natural it will become!

[mollywog]

Tomorrow

A prequel to Complicated (can be read as a stand alone) Set the night of the 74th Reaping

She’s wandering home when her ears perk at the sound of heavy footfall approaching. Silently slipping into the shadows along the path, a figure appears several paces in the direction of the still buzzing festivities. The light is low but the broad shoulders and blond waves unmistakably belong to Peeta Mellark. She watches with interest as he meanders alone. Though the path is clear and straight, his feet are unsteady.

She frowns: He’s drunk.

It’s not that surprising, half the kids their age are probably worse off than him, it’s the night of the Reaping after all. With her sister’s first reaping safely behind them, even she had stopped by the celebration, though she hadn’t had more than a sip of white liquor.

She and Peeta aren’t friends, they don’t even know each other really, but she still feels a twinge of disappointment at his current state. She’s always held him in higher regard than the other boys at school.

In the next step he stumbles; Unable to correct his footing in time, he tumbles to the ground, grunting as he lands. He rolls to his back and sits up, cursing under his breath as he inspects his knee.

“You alright?” she says, emerging from her hiding spot.

He startles at her voice, eyes widening as he spots her. “oh, Katniss, hey. I didn’t know you were there.” He pulls himself to his feet, wincing when he puts weight on his left leg.

“You okay?” She repeats, looking him over as she approaches; there’s a tear in his pants just below the knee, but she doesn’t see blood and he was able to stand on his own: all good signs.

“Ah, yeah, nothing hurt but my pride.”

“Good thing no one saw you.”

“You saw me.”

The usually confident boy looks bashful, and she wonders why he would care: She is no one, at least to him. “I won’t tell,” she says in reassurance. His lips upturn in a poor imitation of a smile and she scowls. “Promise,” she adds defensively.

At this, he shakes his head and laughs; unlike the smile, it’s genuine, “I believe you, Katniss.”

Her stomach swoops at the sound and she turns her head to conceal her own smile. “Well if you’re okay...” she trails off, not really wanting to leave, but not knowing what else to say.

“Could I walk with you for a bit? Make sure you get home safe?”

“Seems like you might be the one in need of an escort.”

He chuckles, “maybe so, but I can’t go home just yet… not like this.”

She frowns. Her parents would be none too pleased to see her in his state, but their lecture would be nothing compared to the back of Mrs. Mellark's hand. She shrugs her assent before turning towards the path, looking back to ensure that he follows.

It takes him a moment to register her response, when he does he jogs a few paces to catch up, “I don’t usually do this, you know?”

She doesn’t know: It must be written on her face because he continues, “Drink too much... or at all really,

She shrugs despite feeling a small bit relieved.

“Today was my brother’s last reaping; he wanted to celebrate and was feeling generous... I don’t know, I think he thought he was doing me a favor.”

“By giving you a hangover?” she raises a brow.

“Nah, he wanted me to loosen up. Relax enough so I’d talk to someone.”

She snorts.

“Hey, are you laughing at me?”

“I didn’t suppose you’d need help talking to anyone.”

“It’s a girl.”

Her heart sinks, “You talk to plenty a girls.”

“Not like this.”

She looks down at the plumes of dust her boots kick up as she walks. “So, did you? Talk to her?”

He hums an affirmation.

“And how did it go?”

“Not very well I think. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a drunk… or an oaf, or a clod… probably all three.”

She frowns. A very small part of her thrills at this; Had he succeeded, he might be off with this girl right now rather than here with her. But the greater part of her feels his disappointment. “I’m sorry.”

He grimaces, “and now she pities me, so definitely not good.”

Her eyes go wide and snap to his as realization dawns.

“I should have known the first time we spoke I’d make a fool of myself,” he adds as if in confirmation.

“Me?” Giddy laughter bubbles up, until a breathy giggle escapes.

He groans, “you’re laughing at me? This keeps getting better.”

“Not at you. I’m just… surprised?”

“You know what; Nevermind. Can we just… forget it?”

But she doesn’t want to forget…

Back when she was eleven, her father had been terribly ill but determined to return to work, her mother disagreed. Her parents had argued that night; they never did that. The fight ended with her mother conceding and making their evening tea. But what her father hadn’t known was that she’d added a double dose of sleep syrup to his cup. He slept straight through his shift, only waking when the siren’s had sounded all across town. A section of the mine had collapsed and a number of his crew had been lost along with it, but thanks to her mother’s deception, her father had not been among them.

She’d watched the families that hadn’t been as lucky as hers struggle that winter: some driven to the bottle, others to Cray, and worse still were the children sent to the community home; their neighbors unable or unwilling to help.

She had been among the helpless crowd until the day she noticed the baker’s youngest son sneaking rolls to the starving children that begged at the merchants’ back doors, despite his mother’s ire.

His kindness had taught her that even at eleven she was not powerless to help. As someone who could depend on two meals at home, she had begun forfeiting her lunches to the children at school who had none. Her father too had taken notice, offering guidance and foraging knowledge to any who dared venture past the fence. It was imperfect but it wasn’t nothing.

Ever since that day, she’s kept an eye on Peeta Mellark with a growing fondness she never imagined he could return.

But he does. She doesn’t doubt his sincerity; those years of watching have only strengthened her certainty of his goodness.

They walk in silence for half a minute as she gathers her courage, “So what was your plan? Before your brother decided to help?”

He sighs, “I don’t know. Offer to walk you home, minus falling on my face. Talk about something other than what a fool I am; like our favorite colors or the best time of year to visit the meadow. And by the time we made it to your door, if all had gone well, ask if you’d want to do it again sometime…”

“That sounds nice.”

“What would you have said?”

“Hmm?”

“What if I had asked you out? If things had gone… better than this, do you think you might have considered it?”

They’ve stopped in front of her porch and she stares up at the house to find it quiet and dark: same as the rest of the street. “One minute. Wait here,” she bids instead of answering his question. Ducking in the house, she silently sorts through her mother’s jars until she finds what she’s looking for, measuring and parceling the herbs with practiced hands, the familiarity helping to steady her nerves.

Reemerging, she’s relieved to find him still there. “Make a tea with this tomorrow,” she says as she hands him the packet, “in the meantime drink plenty of water. It should help the headache that’s coming.”

“Sure thing Doctor Everdeen,” he gives a half hearted smile, “thank you.”

He turns to walk away, but her hand shoots out to stop him, landing on his arm, firm and warm under her fingers. His eyes flit from her hand to her face, holding her stare. Her heart flutters, “What if you ask me tomorrow?”

His brows knit together before shooting to his hairline, “yeah?”

She nods, and because the odds have been in her favor so far today, she pops up to her toes, kissing his cheek, “see ya tomorrow Peeta.”

Complicated | What If

[fakeagatha]

Wrong Reality | Chapter Two | The Cafe

Summary: Eve introduces Agatha to her friends, and takes her to a coffee shop to forget about her stress of being temporarily unavailable to go back to New Jersey.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1569

Agatha stirred, opening her eyes which adjusted to the brightness of the room. She rolled over to avoid the light coming through the curtains, and groaned when she realized where she was, and that it wasn't all some strange dream.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes and making her way towards the living room, where Eve had already made breakfast.

"Hey Agatha, did you sleep okay?" She asked, holding a plate in her hand.

Agatha nodded, "Yes, thank you... Eve."

Eve smiled, "I see you remember my name then!" She said enthusiastically, making Agatha roll her eyes and sit down.

Eve gave her a plate of food as well as a drink, and the witch took them. She didn't stay quiet for long, as once again she looked up at Eve, "I need to go back to my home, I don't live here."

The woman nodded, "I guess I could drive you there, I wouldn't want to make you fly or take any public transport on your own so soon," She sighed. "Unless you'd rather do that?"

Agatha nodded, "Well, considering you ran me over, a drive back would be nice," She said, and Eve shook her head. "Right, of course."

The two woman looked towards the door as they heard a knock, Eve answered, to see her friend and co-worker, Amanda. 

"Eve, are you alright? You didn't show up to work yesterday and didn't respond to any of our texts, we got worried!" She said, peering at the strange woman on her friend's couch.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, I had a bit of an incident..." She mumbled, "Would you like to come in?" Hearing that, Agatha muttered under her breath, as Amanda entered the house.

Agatha and Amanda silently stared at each other for a few seconds, before Eve broke the silence, "Amanda, this is Agatha, my..." She paused, looking at her awkwardly. "Why don't I just tell you what happened?" Eve sighed, and sat down opposite Agatha, as Amanda sat in a nearby armchair.

Agatha bit her lip, "Long story short, this woman hit me with her car and was kind enough to give me a place to stay for the night, as I have no fucking idea how I ended up-"

"Yep, exactly, what she said." Eve smiled nervously, and Amanda stared at the two in silence for a while, before speaking. "Seriously? You ran someone over again?" She deadpanned, and Agatha gasped, "Oh, so I'm not the first person you've almost killed?"

Eve put her hands up in defense, her eyes widening, "It was just a bump this time! I barely touched her! See? Shes completely fine!" Eve gestured to the witch, and the other two rolled their eyes.

Amanda shook her head, before standing up. "Well, I best get back to work. I'll let the other's know you're taking the day off. Don't run anyone else over in the meantime, okay?" She smirked, and Eve shut the door behind her.

As a moment of silence filled the room again, Agatha spoke, "Can you take me home now?"

Eve nodded, "I just need to prepare myself first, I suppose, it's not a short drive you know." Agatha shrugged, leaning back into the couch. Truthfully, Eve assumed that Agatha wasn't mentally well at this point.

After a short while, the two walked outside towards Eve's car. As she attempted to turn on her engine, the car didn't start. "Dammit..." She muttered, and Agatha seemed more annoyed than her.

After several failed attempts, she took out her phone, "I'll have to get it serviced, I can't not have a car," She sighed, and Agatha groaned dramatically, watching the younger woman as she tapped her screen and made a few phone calls.

Eventually a pickup truck came by and took Eve's car, while they walked to the nearby car service. "I can't believe this!" Agatha shouted, crossing her arms as they walked down the road.

"It's not even your car." Eve frowned, putting her hands in her pockets.

"And you're not in some random state that you don't live in!"

Eve shushed Agatha as they arrived after around twenty minutes, and walked over to her car which was being looked at by a young man.

The guy looked up, nodding at the two, before speaking. "It seems like it has been affected by some force, did you notice anything off about your car earlier?" He asked.

Eve bite her lip, "It was making a strange sound yesterday, but I didn't think anything of it." She responded, and the man nodded.

"This will take a couple days to fix. Can you give us a number to call so we can notify you when the car is running?" 

She agreed, writing her phone down on a crumpled piece of paper she was offered. She thanked the staff, and dragged a sulking Agatha out of the shop.

After a while of complaining, the women ended up in the town's center, as Eve turned to Agatha. "How about we stop and get coffee somewhere?" She offered.

"Whatever." Agatha grumbled, being dragged once again into a random cafe.

They sat down together, adjusting their chairs while taking in the atmosphere, the scenery of potted plants and dim lighting giving a sense of peace. "I assume you're paying?" Agatha asked, and Eve nodded. "Yes, Agatha."

Eve's face suddenly brightened, as she was approached by a waiter. "Julian!" She exclaimed, "I didn't know you worked here. What about the convenience store?"

The teen smiled as he greeted Eve, "Well, they fired me," He rolled his eyes, "They were convinced I was using my phone during my shift, which I was, but they still didn't have any proof! I think it was more of an excuse so they could hire the owner's daughter instead," He scoffed.

Eve's expression turned into shock at his words, "They fired you for that? That's so unfair! How is that even allowed?" She said, staring at him with slight anger in her gaze.

Agatha crossed her arms, "Life in unfair, Eve." 

"Right. Julian, this is Agatha. Agatha, this is Julian." 

Julian extended his hand, and Agatha reluctantly shook it, "I didn't know you were friends with children." She muttered, and Julian turned red as he looked at Eve.

"Well, first of all, he's almost twenty. Not a child." She said calmly, and Agatha laughed, "Oh Eve, he's quite literally still a baby!" 

She shoved Agatha, and Julian cleared his throat, "Can I take your orders then?" He asked.

"I want one of those breakfast sandwiches, and an apple juice. Specifically the box." Agatha demanded, and Eve raised an eyebrow, "Uh, I'll just have a coffee, thanks." 

Julian nodded, and walked away, before returning after a while with their orders.

They had their food and drinks in peace, surprisingly, as Agatha seemed to forget the whole incident for the time being. 

"So, how do you know that kid?" Agatha suddenly asked. "He's a little young to conveniently meet someone so old. What's the story behind that?"

Eve chuckled nervously, "He's in my writing class, that's all." 

Agatha scoffed, "I've been alive for more than 300 years, I can tell that kid is literally in love with you. Am I good at observing or are you just blind?"

Eve stayed silent, completely astonished. She wasn't sure which surprised her more- The fact that this delusional woman claimed 'to be more than 300 years old' or the fact that she was able to tell so easily that Julian liked her. "When my son left for college, I had more time to myself... I guess I started exploring a bit. I joined the writing class that I wanted, and I reached out and met new people." She said hesitantly. "He does like me, he's told me."

"And you're just fine with that?"

"... I like him too, in a way." She said quietly, and Agatha looked at her in surprise. "Oh."

Eve sighed, "But it's not just him I like. It's really complicated, I'm just kind of going with the flow, I suppose." She explained, and Agatha looked away in thought, then continued eating. "You do you then."

Eve smiled awkwardly, taking a sip on her coffee, before trying to lighten the mood, "Well, what's your love life?"

Agatha immediately stopped chewing, and looked up at her. "Divorced, that's it."

"Ah, right, sorry." She said apologetically.

A moment of silence went by, before she spoke again. "Her name was Rio. We were together for a while." Agatha muttered through her food. "Oh, I didn't realize you were-" 

"A lesbian?" Yes, ever heard of them?

Eve chuckled, "I have yes. In fact, the other person I mentioned I was interested in, is in fact a woman." 

Agatha looked up at her in surprise, but also amusement. "Huh, that's ironic. It explains a lot actually." Eve went to question her, but decided against it.

After they finished, Eve paid the check, and walked back to her house with Agatha, who became slightly moody again upon remembering her situation.

They arrived back shortly after, and Eve set her things down. "Why don't you get some rest like the doctor said, and we can do something later?" She asked, and Agatha surprisingly complied.

"See you later." She said as she walked into the guest room, and sat on the bed, delighted to notice that there was a TV, so she could at least have some form of entertainment.

She laid down, flicking through some of the channels, falling in and out of consciousness every now and then, trying to focus on the movie she had come across, as the hours went by, waiting for something she didn't know.

[ganondoodle]

the company i work for decided that its switching from the german formal "You"(Sie) to the informal "you" (Du) in all of our websites so now we have to scour the entire database to change it and i quite frankly hate that, not just bc the unecessary extra work but especially bc its such a weird and unecessary change

i bet its bc everything here is getting englishfied (both literally and culturally it feels like, when my new boss talks its half in english bc every second german word is just replaced by an english one despite there being perfectly fine words for it in german too, its so annoying) and bc they want to sound more personal in hopes of getting more clients bc 'company is your fwiend uwu!!', i know this here is the amercian tm site so you wouldnt understand really but i do not want to be greeted with 'du' by companies, no, thats too personal, you dont know me and im not giving you my data, stay away!!

i guess thats how i would describe it .. the formal you is like a polite distance, like someone you dont know staying outside your personal space, but when its the informal 'you' it feels invasive unless i told you you can call me that, and that goes double for companies

maybe its a small thing that doesnt seem important but i cant stand it, im just a little part time worker doing data work so i got no say in it but the companies founder also announced hes giving his post to his kids some time ago so ...... since then theres been alot of changes and new projects that solely aim to imitate whats popular and whats done by other companies, despite ours being one that is, or used to be, intentionally different, like, that was the POINT, but i guess chasing trends is just too appealing for CEOs

[tero-ga]

Aaaaanother TGAA SwapAU stuff and it is my wonderful boy Albert as the prosecutor!!

I've changed some of the designs in this one like the jacket color to white to make a resemblance of a lab coat and reflecting of Kazuma white school uniform, as well trying to bring more Frankenstein's Monster vibe too hehe (aaand make him look more miserable too). He is also have a locket that have a painting of him and his two brothers, it was given by Andrew during his wedding!

I also made bunch of character that related to Swap!Albert's life from 10 years ago, like Andrew(Klint's roleswap) and his other brother Michael, university Barok and Albert, etc. more info about the are there down below 👇👇

First of I wanted to say I'm sorry I can't do full render of everyone here, do that with all of them would be death sentence for me so I couldn't do it 😭😭 Anyway without further ado, I'm going right into it! Start from left to right!

This first one Ryunosuke father replacing as Genshin Asogi. At first while brainstorming I was thinking of maybe do three switch around with Genshin, Jigoku, and Yujin but the it somehow felt weird for me. Then the thought of maybe involving Auchi in this too (like, imagine him being swap with Jigoku wouldn't that be funny and terrifying thought), but discarded that idea out because of Menimemo would have no one to swap with (i have to i'm sorry). Sooo I ended just design him from scratch, he is quite easy to figure out since Genshin doesn't really have much going on with him, but since we don't have any idea of original Ryunosuke's parents at all I have to take idea from something else, and that is his daruma doll for his eyes (he is half blind!! :D) and Phoenix DD/SOJ design (droopy hair and light vest) and everything else is from Genshin. His name is Ryuuki Naruhodo since Ryunosuke is another name for Ryuichi so I want to keep the train going!!

Andrew the screwdriver, oh I missed him- Anyway, I redesign his outfit because tbh his previous outfit is ridiculous 😭 it's funny and fun but I do want to take him seriously now. I'm tried to keep the A shape still but it's less subtle now, I think it turned out okay!! (Oh yeah, his cane is supposed to be a hidden sword but i forgot to put that in the drawing 😭). I was supposed to make his bowtie red like the hair tie but then I realized it will getting rid of the purpose of the hair tie (it referencing the blood on the tip of the screwdriver) so I ended up making it color silver.

The Lady Baskerville, I gave her similar design to Sunny(Herlock!Swap) with the bowtie, color palette to his mascot, and hair on her. I'm not really quite fond with her design, maybe I'll do redesign her again if I got a idea pop up like crazy but in the meantime this is her design.

Guess who is this?? Another one of Albert's tool is here finally!! Michael the crosshead screwdriver! Since we never see Michael anywhere and only mentioned once in the game he is, I'm just draw simple design for him (I wished I could put M shape in the design but I have no idea WHERE to put it 😭 so I tried used the bowtie for it). I also thought it would be nice to make him a defense attorney so I made the design for the badge too. Since he is sadly not going to be mentioned a lot in this AU since I'm trying to make the storyline same as the original, so I made a backstory of what happened in the fun fact tags. There was supposed to be more tool to be added but my god that would be taxing to design, so I have to make only Andrew and Michael as his only siblings.

The doggie Balmung replacement, Bolt, He is a Irish Setter! Beforehand he was supposed to be Borzoi but then research the background of the breed I don't how difficult it is to actually get one in that era so I have to changed breed :((

Albert and Barok in university days!! I just keep same as before like previous design!! There's a tiny change like the hair and the neckties.

There is going to be more content of them soon because I have a lot of ideas for them sooo stay tuned ;)

Here's the concept designs!!

[kyouka-supremacy]

Failed a social interaction 0 injured 1 killed (me)

[iknaenmal]

okay. today i will go on a difficult mission. i might not come back (will ask i friend if they want to hang out)

[disappearinginq]

For a political campaign run off liking someone for "Saying what they mean", they get really bent out of shape when you give them your honest opinion of their candidate.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

people begging me to do something to make a certain someone happy aren’t taking into account that i hate this person and i will revel in the knowledge that i kept them from getting the most perfect version of what they wanted. in fact i hope they mourn the loss of this for the rest of their life and die unhappy about it

[halfelven]

love random not even logged in readers just dropping their 'constructive criticism' on your 100k+ story that you're putting online entirely for free. this is just a rant btw

"You obviously have a great talent and I think you should work on honing it some. As much as I’ve enjoyed the story, there are a few things that stand out that you might consider looking at. I feel like the story isn’t sure what it wants to be at times; is it character driven or plot driven? It doesn’t flow smoothly because sometimes we have these wonderful character vignettes, like Illumi and Kalluto on a road trip or Kite/Leorio/Gon/Killua in an apartment where plot doesn’t really feel important, followed by what feels like heavily plot driven beats, like Kalluto and the spiders. In addition, it contributes to confusion because sometimes we see established characterization turned on its head. Especially the weird way everyone all of a sudden just sort of was OK with Kalluto being a spider and then working with Illumi when they just went to all that trouble to escape him? It all kind of feels forced and not natural. You know?

Anyway, I’ll definitely keep reading and look forward to seeing what happens."

first: love you trying to sound legitimate with your "in addition" like this is some kind of writer's workshop. second: in what way would I, the writer, think that an incomplete part of my story in which the reader does not yet know most of the main motivations (they are only hinted at so far) feels forced and not natural when I know what's happening, where it is going (and where I haven't had other readers comment with confusion about that part)

and moving on. don't do this. also like i said this is a wip in and no, no one is cool with Kalluto being a spider and no they're not cool working with Illumi, really. it was already established that some of them /have/ been working with Illumi before this~ he's someone that they know. like have you never been in a seriously dangerous situation that you just have to get through before you get back to what you want?*** also at this point Chrollo's real motive hasn't been entirely revealed.

Killua keeps changing his mind about what he's doing because he's a scared kid whose self-hatred is destroying him from the inside out. the POV is so tight that I have to keep dropping reminders that what is stated in the narrative is often not true! Illumi's POV, for example, keeps showing Killua as really loving him and being happy he's around but struggling with a desire for freedom, while with Killua's POV he's terrified of Illumi most of the time. like how is that not obviously a distorted POV where you can't trust the narrator?

"where plot doesn’t really feel important, followed by what feels like heavily plot driven beats"

this part is especially irritating because it's like yeah that's how I want to write it? this isn't a published novel. I don't have to commit to making sure every scene is important to the plot. I can spend time writing a full scene about someone drinking a glass of water and then 13 chapters in a row that are for moving the plot forward. I didn't even tag it as a novel... I did tag it for unreliable narration and I keep getting annoyed that people keep ignoring that.

"I feel like the story isn’t sure what it wants to be at times; is it character driven or plot driven?"

it's both??? it's neither??? it's a fanfic??? why do I keep getting comments lately where people are expecting me to adhere to like fucking publishing standards. this keeps up and I will write a chapter which is entirely about a minor character drinking a glass of water. watch me. I'll write one about phinks drinking a glass of water and you'll like it*

"Overall, the story is good and presented a compelling alternative to CA. Look, each fan has their own opinion on CA and I know I didn’t like it. I think it was a product of what Togashi was going through as he began to experience health issues and then finding himself right back where he said he wasn’t going to be mentally after he ended his earlier manga. We can never know for sure, but it certainly had a “watch it all burn vibe” to it near the end. I honestly believe he wanted it to end with the finality of Gon’s suicide as a capstone statement, but was probably convinced to go a different route, which kinda of left a jarring feel in the narrative and culminated in a rather unsatisfying end to Gon and Killua’s journey. Despite that, I am very reluctant to read fics where the events of CA are erased or grossly modified and honestly yours is really the first long AU/alternate timeline I’ve enjoyed"

okay first of all, I love the CA arc. but I had to split a point off where Kite was going to survive. why do you have to leave this whole paragraph about how you think Togashi was or wasn't going to go with the CA on my fanfic? I didn't even write this as 'oh look at my alternative to CA bc I hated CA' I don't really look forward to hearing comments about how random people didn't like so and so aspect of the story that I'm basing my story off of. I've never written fanfic for a story that I didn't like (except for some things that I don't have published I wrote at a request for friends for a fandom they were into that I wasn't really) and yeah I've wanted to 'fix' aspects (like tolkien's treatment of women for example) but I am not looking for your 'this is what I hated about the source material' comments on my stories

tired of getting comments with little 'oh I didn't like your style at first but now I do' or 'here's how to fix your story!' unsolicited advice from people who aren't better writers than me (I don't even want it from people who would be better writers than me on stuff I'm just doing for fun and for free)

when did stuff like this become normal? at least don't be a coward and be not logged in so you can't even get a response notification. like girl they aren't cool with it! why do you think everyone is on guard standing around like they're in a fucking hostage situation? how do you see such wildly different interpretations from different character's POVs and think it's not intentional? what part about Kite watching Killua like a fucking hawk makes you think he's going to let Illumi take him after this?

like if you've never had to smile and pretend to be cool with your abuser (pretend to love them) or someone who was threatening you to keep someone else safe then good for you! it fucking sucks! also don't know how to explain to you what a child who is growing up in an extremely isolated abusive situation goes through (though I keep writing about it in this story you should catch on...) but it's a million back and forths with emotion and feelings--especially if their abuser does (to in some way or to some degree) love them. and it is often blaming themselves. I'm not letting my years of studying human psychology and child development go to waste here**

is this story perfect? no but I'm not gonna hire an editor for a fanfic. and everyone's interpretations of characters will be different. especially with child characters who are going through huge changes in the world around them and their personal lives. part of the appeal of fanfiction is 'who would they become if this happened instead?' *sorry I keep writing about starving and not having clean drinking water but I will never stop because that's what I grew up with and it's hell. also phinks drinking water would be compelling since I assume he'd have harder access to clean drinking water

**hunter x hunter is also one of the only stories I have encountered with characters who have backgrounds as fucked up as mine and Togashi's interest in human psychology really stands out.

***like good for you but that was most of my life and you sometimes just have to shut up and get through it. and no I will not put my notes in the right order bc I'm not being paid enough****

****I'm being paid nothing

[tonyglowheart]

ordered yarn for a new sweater project despite not finishing and effectively abandoning the last two sweater projects I started. surely nothing can go wrong this time though

[lesbiansanemi]

WARNING FOR ANIMAL DEATH/MUTILATION IN THE TAGS

I think I’ve figured out why it’s the stuff with my cats that gets me the most viscerally upset when it comes to my roommate and I think I need to tell him why that is… we had a talk and he apologized for a lot of stuff but I just feel like I need to explain why I react so intensely to him hating my cats/wanting me to get rid of them

[syncrovoid-presents]

I will continue being gone for a few days, sadly my original al plan of releasing the newest chapter of The Consequence Of Imagination's Fear has also been delayed. My apologies

Can't go into detail because its hush hush not-legally-mentionable stuff but today is my fifth 12 hour no-break work day. I'm also packing to move too in a fortnight (which is a Big Yahoo!! Yippee!! I'll finally have access to a kitchen!! And no more mold others keep growing!!! So exciting!!!)

[eric-the-bmo]

Turns out listening to a song I heavily associate with part of my past mental turmoil regarding my ex was a horrible mistake

[sovonight]

i love how in baldur’s gate a stack of 5 potions takes up the same amount of space as an adult human body