#don't mind me i'm just actually tagging things so i can find this one later

[medicinemane]

Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy

You have... very very very very very very very very smart people you know, and they're say something that not only isn't true, but literally is as opposite of the truth as it's possible to be... and you'll... gently inform them "hey, it's actually a bit more like this" and then they just kinda... go on saying literally the exact same thing

I'm not sure if it's just that... I often feel like I must be very bad at communicating, or people must just not notice/ignore a lot of what I say, but... I don't know

Like dearest friend, you've said something as absurd as... I don't know, it's hard to say without saying it, but honest to god about as absurd as saying the United States was a part of the USSR, that level of completely getting it backwards

...and it just doesn't seem to matter when I try to explain it... I legit don't even know if you read what I said

Really end up feeling like I'm going nuts sometimes

[always-just-red]

@irandial and @micasosa34 requested a Rafayel version of this fic, so here it is!! This is a loose sequel, but mostly a spin-off? Also an emotional rollercoaster, sorry! (I fear I put too much of myself in this one, guys... there will be no beating the 'oh you are ACTUALLY in love with this man' allegations after this.....)

Fourth Wall (Rafayel Ver.)

Rafayel x Player!Reader 🔥

(Previous part/Sylus version here!)

Summary: You didn't think Rafayel would let you walk around an art gallery all by yourself, did you?

Genre: Angst! This is my revenge for the claw machine debacle (Checkmate, Rafayel!!! But also I'm sorry and I love you)

Warnings/Additional tags: player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, one instance of swearing

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You made it through about two rooms of the gallery before thinking about Rafayel.

You stand in front of a dark seascape: a night sky and a symmetrically black ocean framing the plight of a small fishing boat, adrift in the centre. The moon casts a pale, faraway light, and an orange lantern glows, drawing colour from the oppressive darkness— deep blues, and rich, shimmering turquoise, crested with white.

It should evoke some feeling of smallness, some respect for the vast indifference of the natural world, but no— your mind is set on the fictional artist who lives in your phone.

What would he think about it? What would he have to say?

At the moment, you suspect it would be some remark about how you should get your own opinion, rather than piggybacking his.

Still, it gives you an idea. You glance around self-consciously as you draw out your phone and earphones— tucking the latter into your ears as you offer a curt smile to the nearby gallery attendant. You’re not breaking any rules by loading up Love and Deepspace, but it feels slightly ridiculous in a place like this: full of real and honest things where you’re somehow lonely.

You log-in with a tap. “Let’s go to the beach,” Rafayel greets, his voice as warm as sunshine that melts a cold morning haze. “I never get tired of seeing the sunset there.”

You smile more sincerely, tousling his hair, but then it’s straight to business. You drag him into the AR Photobooth, directing him through a few poses until you find one you like: a duo pose. His fingers are meant to be around your chin, but without you, he seems to be pointing. Perfect, you shift— tilting your phone until the painting sits behind him.

He’s winking at you as he gestures to it, his face and body as still as marble.

You’re about to take the picture when a not-so-distant conversation strikes up, making you glance backwards. Another visitor is asking the attendant about a painting, and you lower your phone’s volume a notch so you can eavesdrop on them.

“This is one of Turner’s earliest paintings, y’know? He was young when he painted it. Like, super young.”

You freeze. The attendant and the visitor aren’t standing by a Turner painting; you are. Your gaze snaps back to your phone, drawn by the familiarity of the voice.

Rafayel’s turned away from you. He’s staring at the painting, one hand on his hip and the other up by his face, stroking his chin. He’s swaying on his feet gently, his head tilting as he takes in different parts of the seascape.

“You gonna take the picture, cutie?” he asks, glancing back at you with a knowing grin.

Your lips have parted slightly in surprise, but your finger manages to find the photo button. Rafayel returns to his candid observations just in time for your screen to flicker, mimicking a camera flash. 

“Ok, one more.” He turns around and settles into a new pose. You take another photo. “Nice,” he beams, “you’ll send those to me later, yeah?”

But you can’t—

“Relax, ok? I’m kidding. Now come on,” he pokes at the edge of your screen like a mime trapped by an invisible box. “Move this thing! I wanna see what else they’ve got here.”

You do move, but not to show him around. He gets a blurry view of the floor as you hurry over to a nearby bench, sinking down with a sigh because you can’t believe this is happening— again. With a few taps of your finger, you draw the curtains on Rafayel’s view to your world and return him to his.

“No, no, no! What?” he groans in disbelief, suddenly back in the Destiny Café. He throws himself into the armchair with reckless abandon— limbs sprawled— one hand over his face as though it would pain him to look on anything at all. “You find out I’m self-aware and the first thing you do is drag me back here? Where’s your heart? Your empathy? Your soul?”

You poke at his hand and he swats at the air like you’re bothering him.

“Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m busy, like, contemplating the futility of my existence?”

So dramatic! You consider closing the app out of spite, but this is Rafayel. You know Rafayel; look past the theatrics. It’s been, what— just over a month since Sylus first told you he’d seen through all of this? He said the others were lagging behind, but maybe…

Maybe they weren’t.

Shit. Maybe they weren’t.

You watch Rafayel, sunken down in one of two places you’ve seen him inhabit every day, every night, for almost a year. This café isn’t different from the old in any way that matters. Sylus is new but Rafayel has been here from the very beginning. So many more days. So many more nights.

How long has he known?

He lifts his hand, just enough to peer in your direction. You’ve not closed the app. You’re not poking at him anymore. He sits up straighter in the chair, both hands in his lap, and he looks at them pensively. Maybe even remorsefully.

“You’re thinking about what it all means, huh? Don’t.” It’s a command, but it’s soft. Then softer, a: “Please?”

Your breath catches— oh— he’s known for a long time, hasn’t he? You lean back against the gallery wall, grounding yourself as you text him an emoji: a chick bursting out of its shell with question marks over its head.

He pulls out his phone. Sees it. “Why?” he translates with a melancholic chuckle.

Yeah. You tickle his head. Why?

He runs a hand through his hair. “I guess… I didn’t want you to feel bad?”

You text another emoji and he glances down at it, then laughs more loudly: “I’m a dummy? Check a mirror, cutie— isn’t it you who’s been walking around thinking Mister Wannabe Vampire is the only one smart enough to figure this all out? Puh-lease.”

He laughs even more at his own joke— maybe to fill the quiet and the fact that he can’t hear you laughing with him. It peters out like it inevitably must, and like it always does. He goes still.

“Can’t you show me around, even a little?” he asks.

No.

You feel bad, you do, but you can’t start living for him. This is your world; if you invite him in now, when does it stop? You already spend too much time with your head down, lost in your phone. You were walking through a gallery and thinking about him, remember? Art is supposed to make you think about something real.

No, you text him: a crow holding a sign with a big, red cross. It’s too abrupt, but there’s not an emoji for “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

Rafayel’s face falls further as he checks his phone, his eyes like the ocean in the painting across the room: lit by a weak, failing little light. He looks to you, even though he can’t see you. “Please?”

You don’t move.

“Please,” he tries again, “just this once— this once. Is that so much to ask?”

You’ve used up your three means of answering him.

He scoffs in dismay, alone in the silence of everything you can’t say— you couldn’t say— even if you were really with him and the distance between you was merely invented. How could you go to him, hold his face in your hands and tell him the truth: that you care, but not enough?

Here, now: the quiet confesses it for you.

Rafayel stands from his seat, taking a step closer, his gaze dark. You can see his eyes more clearly; that lantern is at the bottom of the sea, with the rest of the ship and everyone on board. “Do you know what my life is?” he asks, and the silence has become his ally, punctuating his every word so it can cut more deeply. “My life’s an empty café, a book with blank pages and a phone that won’t ring.”

The curtains behind him move softly with a superficial breeze, lit by a superficial sun.

“The only thing that’s real,” he says, “is you.”

You feel like the breath’s been knocked from your lungs.

You can’t resent him for it. He could have drowned you from the start, could have dragged you under a weight of responsibility, but he didn’t, and that’s Rafayel: always tempering himself into something less lethal. He’s been so still for you. So silent for you.

Your mind is wrapped in a vow you made him— one you’ve been unconsciously breaking— and you’re going to break it again, knowingly, wilfully this time, because you want him like this: angry.

You promised, didn’t you? I will never make Rafayel wait for me.

He’s always been waiting, and you want him to stop.

You close the app, muting your phone when notifications start coming through: a squall of frustration, pleading, and frantic apologies. You tuck all of it into your pocket and stand, wandering back to the painting that started it all so you can look at it differently.

Something real to think about. Something real.

You stare at a black ocean and think about him.

…

Rafayel isn’t talking to you.

It’s been a week since your ‘breakup’— dubbed gleefully as such by Sylus— and you load up the game to find your artist slumped back in his armchair, his book over his face. A week of him sitting down, cross-legged and armed, during the Deepspace Trials you’d set out to clear with him. A week of him hogging the Claw Machine, and missing every rare plushie with a sarcastic ‘oops’.

The worst part is that you’ve missed him. You’d tried replaying the kindled moments from his five-star memories, but he’d made you regret it. In Sparkling Traces, he’d summed up his feelings in a very… colourful drawing. Omnipotent Perception: he’d slipped deeper into the bathwater, a blush on his face as he avoided your gaze and murmured something about you ‘having some nerve.’

Now, you can’t even call him over to you. You poke at the book on his face, once, twice, then repeatedly until it slips, but his hands shoot up to catch it. He holds it in place.

Ugh. If he would just—

You drum away at the book more vivaciously, but his grip is solid. Plan B, then: you open your in-game messages and send an emoji instead. Rafayel stirs, one hand moving to his pocket and the other lifting the book so he can peek down at his phone. “What— you tryna bribe me now?”

He’s looking at grumpy crow holding out a present: a bundle of shiny, red gems. His translation is spot-on, as per usual, and you reward it by poking at his chest. He frowns down at the contact, then sits up, rolling his eyes as he tosses the book over his shoulder.

“This better be good,” he yawns, standing up and stretching with a listlessness that could only be described as cat-like, however much he’d whine about the comparison.

Having won his attention— and begrudging consent— you navigate your way to the AR Photobooth. Rafayel stares at you from within the frame: an unwitting subject of a portrait he doesn’t yet understand, but he soon will. You smile as he turns cautiously to regard his backdrop.

Behind him, the ocean laps at a shore of pale sand and stretches into the horizon, where the sun lazily dips. There’s about half of it left, turning the sky a blurred palette of orange and pink that’s spilled over the water. Clouds are few and dark purple, their linings aglow.

Rafayel’s folded arms have dropped to his sides. After a few, long seconds, he gazes back in your direction, eyes wide with surprise before they soften with a radiant smile.

“You—” he starts, and it could be something as light as a joke or as deep as a soliloquy. You’ll never know, because he doesn’t put it to words. He glances at the ocean again. Then at you. “Thanks,” he settles for.

You chuckle. There’s not many ways you can answer without tearing him away from the sunset and trapping him back in the café, so you stay sitting still. It’s a different silence than a week ago. There are things unsaid, but that’s ok— they’re the sort you don’t need to speak aloud, anyway.

Your shoes are set aside by your feet so you can feel the sand, still warm beneath your toes. You wiggle them into it, gazing out over the ocean as the evening breeze catches and plays with your hair, and the last of the sun trails over your skin. You stare out at where it’s sinking.

Rafayel moves, and your focus meanders back to your phone. He’s walking away from you, gradually— retreating further into the composition you’ve created, just for him. He looks as though he’s nearing the shore, but it’s cosmetic: there are no footprints in the sand. His hair isn’t moved by the same breeze, and his face isn’t gilded by the same light.

He stops by the ocean’s edge and crouches gently, mesmerised by the push and pull of the tide. Slowly, humbly, he reaches out a hand and lowers his fingers towards the water; they never slip beneath the surface, and they don’t stir a ripple.  

Rafayel laughs, masking an undertow of sadness, but not disappointment. “It’s funny,” he says, still sketching invisible, ineffectual shapes. “Loving the ocean as much as I do, and knowing… knowing I’ll never touch it.”

He’s all the way over there, but his voice is in your ears, so intimately close. You swallow an ache.

He looks up at you. Smiles: “Y’know what I mean?”

You’re using memories to complete the picture: His hair, mussed by the summer breeze that day you stood amongst the cherry blossoms. His face, painted by the sunset of a different life, where you’d roamed a desert together. In each and every moment, his eyes are the same, just as they are now: kindled by a tender, tentative fire.

“Yeah, Raf,” you say to yourself— just yourself. “I know what you mean.”

[mythicmanuscripts]

omg omg hi, I don't know what to request, I simply am happy that you are back.

Hmm.... Something with subby Aemond... Could you elaborate on the collar (you said that it needed to be something that he would never have to take of, so somethin simpel like a necklace). What if he lost it during battle? What if his wife also started to wear jewelery as a symbol of their partnership? Like maybe exclusively saphire pendants or something like that.

thx xoxo

Thank you for the kind words!! I'm very glad to be back.

Honestly I can't really remember the ask you're referring to (if someone finds it could you tag me or something? I'd love to reread it at some point), but I'll never turn down an opportunity to chat about collars or any sort of jewellery representing dynamics so I'm very happy to discuss thoughts about Aemond and collars/jewellery :))

This answer isn't explicit but since it's very very clearly sub!aemond I'll add a cut to be safe. Enjoy lads!!

So firstly I think Aemond would absolutely love to have something that felt like ownership? He wants to be yours, and he wants a physical reminder of it.

I think maybe you first saw a glimpse of this desire the morning after your first rougher night with him? He got up before you and you awoke to the site of him standing before a mirror and tracing the outline of the scratches on his hips and the bruises on his collar bones. At first you think he doesn't like it and offer to call the maesters to see what will heal it quicker, but he shuts that down immediately.

He gets all squirmy and blushy, not quite being willing to meet your eyes and eventually you manage to get out of him that he really likes the marks. For a few weeks it goes on like that, with you ensuring to leave marks on him because he seems to love it.

Eventually you start to realise he loves the physical reminder, not only of what happened when he got those marks but also as a reminder that you love him, that he's yours. You really only put that together when you realise how protective he seems of any evidence of you? He tells off the servants who move your brush back to your private quarters, he keeps your favourite book on his nightstand even though he never reads it.

The first thing you offer him to try and meet this need is maybe just a piece of a clothing item? It happens while the two of you are walking together, far away from Kings Landing. Aemond often asks you to come out on Vhagar with him, simply to fly somewhere quiet where no one can hear you.

You're walking along a rocky terrain and you put your foot wrong and nearly fall. You catch yourself, but your shirt or dress gets caught on the branch of a small bush. You don't mind the tear of course, it's of no real consequence, you have plenty of other clothes back at the red keep anyway. But Aemond seems distraught about this? He asked you to come with him and now you're ruined your clothes because of him.

You end up taking your knife/dagger and cutting the torn piece of fabric off so it's not just hanging. That action seems to upset Aemond even more, since now the tear can't ever be sown back together. That is, until you take his hand and tie the fabric around his wrist, telling him that there, now the fabric isn't going to waste.

You do it mostly as a silly thing, not something you expected him to seriously cherish. But the following day he still hasn't taken it off, and he doesn't take it off the next day nor the day after that.

When you ask him about it, he actually panics a little, mumbling about how you gave it to him and please don't take it back. Repeating that you said it was his, he wants to keep it.

Which... sometimes Aemond truly is one of the most sensitive, sweet souls in all of the seven kingdoms. You promise him you will never take it from him, and tell him you're glad he likes it.

A few weeks later you present him with a bracelet inspired by the piece of fabric. Except the bracelet is made of dyed leather, iron and jewels, not fabric. It's in the same colours as the fabric, but this is made to last must longer. Aemond cries for a solid twenty minutes when you give it to him. It takes him nearly a week to stop tearing up every time he looks at his wrist. And yes he knows you're already married and you already wear rings and whatnot, but that was an arranged marriage. He didnt love you back then, he didnt want to be yours back then. To him the wedding rings show the world he is married, but the bracelet is just for him, just to show him that he belongs to you.

Needless to say, he'd be absolutely distraught if he lost it.

It would definitely have to be lost in battle, because that's the only time he wouldn't automatically notice if the bracelet isn't around his wrist. When he does notice, his stomach drops. He feels so... exposed? He gets back to kings landing as quickly as possible. When he walks to your chambers he has his other hand around his wrist, like he's trying to hide not having the bracelet on.

Of course you're not at all upset with him. He returned from battle unharmed, that is all you care about. But despite that, he can't settle without it and you can't let him go back to flying the largest dragon in the world when he can't even think straight. You end up cutting another piece of fabric out of one of your clothes for him, this time cutting it long enough that you can wrap it around his wrist three times before tying the ends together.

You can see the way he relaxes once it's done. He leans against you, mumbling his thanks against your neck.

When he leaves again, you arrange for a new bracelet to be made, but this time you decide to get more than just that. You also get two necklaces, one short and one long and then another bracelet made as well.

You present the replacement bracket together with the longer necklace to Aemond when he returns. He had been hoping and praying you'd give him another bracelet (part of him feared you'd be so disappointed that he lost the first one that you wouldnt get him another and that would just break him).

He's entirely shocked when you give him the necklace, and even more shocked when you show him that you had another one made for yourself. When he looks closer at the necklace then he gets confused at first, because it doesn't match the bracelet and necklace you got him? It's made of the same metal, but yours have sapphires.

When he asks about, you simply run cup his face, stroking his cheek under his eyepatch. You watch as his other eye tears up at the realisation of why you chose what you did. He adores it, and he's so so gentle when he puts the necklace and bracelet on you, his hands shaking so much that he has to stop and try again.

You always wear the necklace, and Aemond adores seeing it on you, especially in public? In private he'll often run his fingers over the sapphire, even lean down and kiss it. But in public, just glancing at you and seeing it is more than enough to make him smile.

[nightlyrequiem]

hiya requiem !!

okay sooh kinda stupid request BUTTT can i request something along the lines of running a rival cartel against Val .. then she finds you sellin on her block and she thinks ur jist mad stupid because like?? ( ・－・)

butttt then when she messes ya up and like kidnaps you or wtv you're like 'i sold here for your attention not for money' yaknow?? (∩_∩)

then we just have confuzzled Valeria, pining 😞

soz if this is too specific !!! as always thanks soso much in advance :3

-🃏🌀⭐️

Hiya Jester!!

I love this request. Writing a dumb little lovesick reader inconveniences Valeria just to get her attention is so fun.

No worries! I actually super love when requests are specific!

Ugh. I need her to beat the living daylights out of me like literally

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Mentions of Drugs, Mild Violence, Mostly Lighthearted Stuff

Attention Seeker

"What do you mean nobody is buying from you?" Valeria growls dangerously. Scowling at one of her dealers as he shifts uncomfortably, not wanting to be on the receiving end of her fury. 

"It's not just me." He says quickly. "The others are struggling for customers, there's another cartel that just popped up - real small though, practically just a gang." He continues quickly.

"Why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?" Valeria snaps. There's a threat to her business and nobody thought to tell her? "Who is running it?" She demands. When she gets her hands on them, she is going to skin them. The audacity they have to encroach in on her territory.

"... I'm not sure, some woman." He replies quietly, he seems to relax a bit now that Valeria has someone else to be mad at. That's usually how it goes. People playing hot potato with Valeria's anger.

The presence of competition explains why the market has been dry lately. She's going to find her and crush her like a bug. Watch her insides spill out. Valeria turns back to the man. Face twisted into it's usual dark scowl.

"How did you find out who it was?" she asks impatiently.

"Well... she was the one selling." He admits. "I asked her about it and she said she pulled together a few people to start up a 'business.'"

Valeria looks at him blankly. "You were face to face with this woman and didn't think to kill her." She says, astounded by this man's incompetence. "Or at the very least bring her to me. You just... walked away."

The man grimaces and avoids her gaze. "She was very friendly, and open with information I didn't know what to do." 

"Get out."

Valeria sits at her desk rigidly. Limbs stiff with anger. For weeks she's been losing money and she had no clue why. Just to find out it's because she's being upsold by some... friendly woman? "Oh, I just pulled together some people for a fun business adventure selling hard drugs in someone else's established territory, hee-hee." Nobody just randomly wakes up one day and decides to form a cartel. Nobody can just do that. It takes intelligence, and skill, and power. Valeria worked her ass and tits off to get to where she is, and this woman thinks she can just stroll in like life is sweet? Valeria clenches her fists and takes some deep breaths.

Three days later she's prowling the block you were spotted on. She got your description from that dealer and now she waits. Her men wait in a black, nondescript car nearby, waiting for her signal. People go about their days. Families out on strolls with their children, paying no mind to the armed men around them. This is their normal. Anything else would only disrupt things. There. She watches you stride out from an alley. Valeria would have never been able to tell that you sell drugs. Yet there you are, paper bags clutched in one hand. You don't even notice Valeria as you walk by. Moving with a purpose. Intent to sell.

Valeria follows after you. You're so dumb that you don't even look over your shoulder. That's when she grabs you. She slaps a hand over your mouth and roughly drags you away. You attempt to struggle but Valeria curls her lip into a sneer at how physically weak you are. The car squeals up next to the both of you and the door opens, a large man bags your head and hauls you inside. Slamming the door behind him.

Your vision is obscured to beige blurs as your shoved to the floor. It's hard and cold. A place that never sees the sun. You try to stand when you get kicked in the ribs, sending you sprawling. Air is pushed from your lungs in a painful gasp. Another sharp kick is delivered.

"Stop!" You wheeze.

The bag is pulled from your head, allowing you to see the room and your attacker. It's Valeria, who looks nothing short then pissed. "Who do you think you are?" She snarls. Her foot lands painfully in your stomach and your vision swims. She grabs you by the hair and roughly tilts your head back to look at her. "Do you think you're smart? trying to sell on my turf? Stupid bitch."

"Valeria." You mumble. Body relaxing at the sight of her. She's even prettier up close. High cheekbones, the beginnings of crow's feet, dark eyes. What a woman.

Valeria is taken aback by your expression. Her brows furrowing at your lack of fear.

"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?" She asks sharply. Do you not believe she's a threat? "You aren't going to be so happy when I beat the shit out of you, coño."

"I can't believe it." You gush, lips twisting into a wide grin. "You noticed me!" Your laugh is piercing and ecstatic. Valeria lets go of you and takes a step back.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice is laced with frustration. You sit up straighter and smile at her like she just handed you a million dollars.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you!" You say. "I admire you so much. You're so strong, I mean, I don't know of any other woman who does something like this. Running a cartel? And using a fake identity? God, you're brilliant!"

Valeria stares at you, not even sure how to respond. Should she hit you again? "Why were you selling on my territory?" She demands. "You think you can just take my money like that?"

"Oh no, I'm not doing this for money." You shake your head, voice full of disinterest. "I tried to find other ways of getting close to you, but your people are so unfriendly. I tried to join your cartel but they pulled a gun on me and told me to 'get the fuck out of here.'" You explain. Just casually dropping this information.

Hearing that you wanted to be close to her raises major alarm bells in her head. She unholsters her pistol and aims at it you threateningly.

"Why do you need to be closer to me?" she asks. "You a fed?"

You frown. "No. I just really admire your work."

"I don't understand."

She stiffens when you stand. "I want to be just like you." You say. Your eyes dart over her face, drinking in her features like well-aged wine. "I want to apart of your life."

Valeria understands there may just be something wrong with you. she lowers her gun but doesn't drop it. Still not fully convinced you aren't a threat.

"You came here and trespassed... to get my attention. You wanted me to seek you out." She reiterates flatly. "Just to make sure I'm understanding correctly."

You smile and nod. Glad she finally gets it.

"Exactly." You reply calmly.

Valeria isn't sure how she feels about that. You're strange and not well, clearly. But she's never had someone so interested in her that they'd put themselves in danger just to meet her. It makes her feel powerful. In control. "Is that it?" She asks boredly. "You just wanted my attention?"

"Yes."

"Well you got it." She says with annoyance. Rebolstering her gun. "If I catch you selling drugs again, I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your head, do you understand me?" Valeria gets in your face, trying to intimidate you. Instead, she just witnesses your pupils dilating.

"Sure." You nod, sounding breathless. Valeria doesn't know if it's because you were kicked in the ribs or something else. "Do you want to go on a date with me?" 

Valeria recoils, expression souring. "No." She says bluntly. Turning away from you. She'll have one of her men relocate you.

"Please?" You plead, sounding pathetic. "Just one date? There's this amazing restaurant and lounge on fifth, I'll pay."

"I'm not going out with you." she grunts. She still hasn't called in her men.

"Then can I work for you? I have a way with people, I can make you so much money as a dealer."

That offer certainly piques her interest. You have a point, she thinks. You're pretty and friendly and she can see that doing well with drug addled clients.

She puts a hand on her hip while she considers your hopeful expression. Valeria imagines what it would be like to have someone so infatuated with her working under her. she'd have your guaranteed loyalty. A part of her also likes the way it feels.

"Fine." She relents. "But if you fuck up even once, you're gone."

You smile happily. Looking like an idiot.

[reikiss]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐋&𝐃𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒

tags : fluff!!! gn reader. est relationship. 1.2k words. a/n : ik v-day is over but i just have to post one just bcs !!! this is sooo late bcs school is a pain in the ass. reblogs are highly encouraged and very much appreciated! <3

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ ♡ 

"Hey, did you know it's Valentine's Day today?"

"What?"

"Wait, don't tell me you don't know what that is." You teased him, not really expecting that he might not know. Yet he looks down, looking a little shy.

Wait, is this for real? He actually doesn't know??

You cleared your throat to mask your giggle. "Well, for your information, it's a special day to spend with loved ones and friends."

You leave out the part where it's focused on lovers, thinking you might sound like you're hinting something. Little did you know he actually knew what today was and found it quite cute how you brought it up.

"Ahh right." He says as if he finally remembered. He tries his best to refrain from grinning so much and showing his intentions.

"Then..." he trailed off, slowly meeting your eyes as you looked at him.

"Shall we go out later?"

The first time you saw him, you already knew that you would inevitably fall for this precious man, and when he speaks so softly and genuinely while holding such warmth and fondness in his eyes while looking at you, you can't help but get weak in the knees and fall for him all over again (as if you don't already do everyday). "S-sure. I'm looking forward to it."

He blessed your eyes with such a gorgeous smile. "Great. Where do you want to go?"

You end up dropping by the plaza where countless stalls are set up, a variety of foods and gifts being sold. You both ate snacks and took pictures, enjoying every second of the time spent together.

As it was getting late, you both decided to call it a day, but not before Xavier got back as he wanted to check out something. You were surprised that he came back with a bouquet in his hands.

"I told the old man I chatted with earlier while I was going around that I would come back and buy some flowers from him. He said I should give it to someone I consider dearest to me."

He slowly hands it to you, a warm smile on his lips. "Thank you for today, I had such a great time. I hope you enjoyed as much as I did, and I hope you'll accompany me to celebrate this day every year."

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ ♡ 

You find yourself in front of Dr. Zayne's office after you intentionally scheduled an appointment with him on February 14. Although he might be busy, you were planning to ask him out today if ever that he was free.

You take in a deep breath. After knocking, you hear him respond with a "Come in."

After everything has been settled and finding that you're as healthy as you can be, you immediately started another conversation. "What are your plans today?"

He looks at you and his face is normal as usual, though you thought you saw a glimpse of surprise on his face for a split second. "Not much, just some paperwork left and I'm done for the day. Why'd you ask?"

Right. Of course he had things to do. "Nothing, just curious."

"What about you? Do you have plans left for today?"

"Nope. I'll just be heading home."

"If you're not in a rush to head home and call it a day, would you care to wait for a few more minutes and go out with me afterwards?"

You were taken aback by how straightforward he is that you embarassingly choke on nothing.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I'm fine really." You speak after putting back enough air in your lungs. "Sure, I'll be waiting here. Take your time."

He smiles at you before facing the computer and focusing while you sit there scrolling on your phone. (little did you know deep down he's happy that his plan was a success as he actually already made up his mind that he would spend today with you)

It didn't take long before he was finished. It's as if he unlocked 100% of his brain power.

You end up walking in the plaza, buying food and playing games. Of course, Zayne always lets you win whether he plans it or not. He didn't really mind losing to you. How could he when he couldn't help but stare at you that he loses focus?

It was starting to get dark while you were taking a stroll. There was a comforting silence surrounding the both of you before Zayne broke it. "Look, they're your favorite, aren't they?" He points at a stall selling flowers and the ones you love were right at the front. He buys them and hands the bouquet to you.

"What for? You didn't have to." Yet you gave a smile, appreciating the gesture.

"I wanted to buy them for you. They really do suit you. Think of it as my thanks for spending the day with me... and as an invitation celebrate again next year with me."

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ‧₊˚ ✩ ₊˚ ⊹ ♡ 

You went inside Rafayel's residence, having been called by him.

"Ah! There you are, bodyguard-san." He welcomes you as soon as he sees you let yourself in.

"So, why'd you call me over in the middle of work? Good thing I don't have a mission today."

"Well, besides the fact that I just wanted to see you, I want you to accompany me to the plaza later."

Your ears perked up at his words, but you were unsure as to what was the meaning behind his invitation.

Is this it? Is he asking me out? Or did he just have some business to tend to there?

"What for? There's gonna be a pretty big crowd there later."

He cleared his throat before answering. "I'm just curious as to what's all the ruckus about since Thomas mentioned there'd be some kind of celebration today."

"Ahh it's probably because it's Valentine's Day."

"And what are we celebrating?"

"Well..." you pause, thinking of a simple way to explain. "It's a day of giving love and spending time with loved ones." but it's mostly celebrated by couples. You leave out that part, not knowing why it felt embarrassing to highlight that detail.

"I see. You humans and your celebrations, I'll never understand."

You chuckle at his dramatics, "and why is that?"

"Shouldn't every day should be a day spent with loved ones anyways? Don't you think so?" he said in a as-a-matter-of-fact way before sighing. "I would spend everyday like that, unlike some people."

You roll your eyes but smile anyways at your adorable and clingy boyfriend.

"To commemorate your traditions, why don't we just start now and spend the entire day together?"

And that's exactly what you did. You started out by hanging at his place, attempting to draw a portrait of one another. Of course he nails his art, but yours ended up more of an abstract rather than a portrait. When afternoon came, you two dropped by the plaza and tried almost all of the food.

By the end of the day, walks you home. Standing outside your apartment complex, he pulls out flowers from his coat and hands them to you.

Smiling, you take them from him. "They're lovely, thank you."

"I'm glad you like them." He shows you his killer smile. "Today is dedicated to spending time with people who're important to us, but let's try to spend everyday this way. What d'you say?"

!!! dividers from @cafekitsune and @saradika

© shizukiss — do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or repost my posts anywhere

[nwjws]

while you were sleeping - pjs

; PAIRING - jay x gn!reader

; SYNOPSIS - in which you’ve had the same album on repeat, unable to get it out of your mind. just like how jay, your roommate, can’t seem to get you out of his.

; WC - 1.4k (minus the lyrics)

; TAGS - college roommates au, fluff, from jay's pov, based off laufey's 'while you were sleeping' ; WARNINGS - not proofread

i still can't believe that you noticed me

mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you patiently wait for your roommate, park jay, to finish cooking up some breakfast. a comfortable silence has settled between you two, with the only sounds being the sizzling oil on the pan and your humming.

"you've been listening to the same 14 songs for the past week."

"what?" you ask, looking up at him. you stare at his back, broad shoulders exposed by his tank top.

he turns his head to look back at you over his shoulder, raising a perfect eyebrow. you realise then what he's saying.

laufey had released a new album last week, and you literally haven't played any other song outside of it since it dropped. you can feel jay judging you, but you just shrug at him. you were definitely not stopping.

"so what if i've had bewitched on repeat? can you deny that they're good?" you challenged him.

"no, of course not," he chuckled to himself, turning back to the pan. "i'm just surprised you haven't gotten sick of it yet."

"i would never get sick of laufey," you say with mock offence.

"alright, then," he said with a teasing undertone.

you wanted to retort, but he placed a plate in front of you, making you forget what you were going to say.

"hey, you have a later clinical today, right?" he asked as you two dug in.

"mhm."

"take the box i left in the fridge with you before you go then. its some extra lunch i made so you'd have enough energy to get through the day."

"thank you," you say appreciatively. "you really don't have to do that every time i have a heavier day."

"well, if i have time to, then i don't see why i shouldn't."

"what about you? what are you doing today?"

"my professor cancelled class today, so i'll go check out if i can bother heeseung or jake."

"i'll pray for whichever victim you choose, then," you joke.

"maybe i won't make you extra lunch next time," he pouted playfully.

"no, no. those actually really help me. god knows if i didn't score you as my roommate, i would have passed out several times by now."

"grateful to be of service"

after breakfast, jay lounges around the apartment as you're getting ready. some show plays on the tv, but it doesn't drown out the sound of must be love playing from your speakers.

you shout your leaving when you exit the shared apartment, and jay wishes you a good day. he watches you close the door, leaving him completely alone.

i'll never forget the first time i saw you then

when he drives to the shopping centre with jake later that day, he pauses mid-sentence when he realises something.

"is everything good?" his friend asks.

"yeah, i just recognised the song playing."

"really? you listen to from the start by laufey?" jake asks. he had decided to connect his phone to jay's carplay, and had been in the one in control of the playlist.

"not really, but my roommate does."

"y/n? that's pretty cool. they've got good music taste," he replies.

"they've had her newest album on repeat since she dropped it," jay laughs, eyes on the road.

"do you find that annoying?"

"of course not, it's funny seeing them prance around the apartment, belting their heart out," he laughs at a memory of you singing at the top of your lungs. "i guess i'm more of a second-hand listener now? if that's even a thing."

"probably," jake shrugs.

a light pink bouquet, a promise you'll stay and i start to believe

the two had decided to eat out at wagamama's first, before anything else.

"i think i'll get the pad thai," tells the waitor, who nods and notes it on his ipad.

"hm, i'm feeling like trying the grilled chicken ramen," jay says. "oh, could i also get the miso mixed vegetable salad to-go?"

"sure," the waitor replies. he pockets the small device in his apron, and leaves for the kitchen.

"you ordered another meal?" the younger asks curiously.

"me and y/n go here often. of course, i had to get them something. usually, they'll go for the typical miso salad, or some curry, but they've decided they wanted to try being vegan recently. so i got the vegan one," jay explains nonchalantly.

"wow, you really care a lot about them, huh?"

"of course, we're sharing the rent, after all. have to be a good roommate, otherwise they'll leave and i'll have to pay the bills on my own."

"maybe i should get a roommate," jake chuckles. "but i don't think i'd be able to get someone like you."

"i'd feel sorry for whoever ends up with you," jay teases him. "and anyway, they're a good roommate. they do the laundry for the both of us, and we usually spend the weekends cleaning together."

"you guys are so lucky," is all jake says.

i don't recognise myself ; who've i become?

jake dragged jay into their third clothing shop that day, despite jay's protests. in self-defence, jake whines about needing some new shoes.

"don't you have like, thirty pairs? what could you possibly need another one for?"

"actually, i only have twenty-eight. and i need one for graduation, of course."

"right, because none of your almost-thirty pairs suffice," jay rolls his eyes.

"don't act like you dont have seventy pairs of the same polo shirt."

"i don't!"

"i've seen your closet, don't lie to me."

jay sighs and leaves jake to wander around the shop on his own.

"there you go again, buying another shirt," jake's voice sighs from behind jay fifteen minutes later.

"not for me," jay shakes his head. he turns to show the clothing piece to his friend. "for y/n. this is definitely their style, and it'll fit them so well. they have a pair of shoes that are this exact colour, so it would be good outfit if they sandwhich it with any bottom piece they choose."

"you think a lot about your roommate," jake raises his eyebrow at him.

"i see them all the time, why wouldn't i?" jay asks.

"no, like, you think too much about y/n considering you're 'only roommates'," he says with a quote gesture.

"stop suggesting weird things," jay walks ahead to the counter, leaving jake to follow behind.

"is it really so weird, though? if you like y/n like that?"

jay just ignores him, and pays for the shirt. it's not, he thinks to himself, because it's not a new thought either.

i trace it all back, 3:30 am that night something turned in my heart

"thank you, jay," you hug him when he shows you what he got. "you really need to stop buying me things."

"i can't help it," he smiles. "when i see something that reminds me of you, i just feel like i have to get it."

"with how often you buy me things, i'd say a lot of things remind you of me, huh?"

"seems like it..." he scratches his nape, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with you. thanks jake, he scowls in his mind. now he can't stop thinking about what he said earlier.

you and jay decide to watch a movie the next night, since it was a friday, and neither of you had to be up early the next day.

but jay couldn't focus on the tv when you two were basically cuddling under the shared blanket on the sofa. his skin prickled where his arm hung around your shoulder, and the weight of your head on his made him feel light and airy.

the warmth of your body seeped through your clothes, and brought him immense comfort. your sweet scent filled his nose, subconsciously recognising it to be one of the perfumes he'd bought you.

it was only when the movie ended he realised he hadn't been watching at all. and neither were you, if your light snores were any indication.

he huffed amusedly to himself, and shifted on the sofa to get you two in a more comfortable position, actually lying down. reaching for the remote, he carefully switched off the tv, leaving the only source of light to be a soft, warm yellow coming from a corner lamp.

jay stared at your features, illuminated by the dim light. he realised right then, in the comfort of your arms, far into the night, what he felt for you.

while you were sleeping, i fell in love.

; AUTHOR'S CORNER! do u guys ever feel like throwing up at your own work? ALSO THANK YOU FOR 200 this is my offer of thanks 🤭

; TAGLIST - @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii

[sysmedsaresexist]

We're curious, since you apparently were anti-endo in the past Was there any specific event or conversation or experience that got you to start contemplating the idea you might have been wrong? I know you've mentioned talking to a buncha big name docs and going "okay I think I'm on the wrong side of this debate" but what got you to the point of even bringing it up with them in a genuinely open minded way? We think its an interesting topic for people who've escaped any kind of shithead mindset, not just anti-endo stuff, and so we're oft curious what pulls people out of those pits

This has been a loooonnggggg time coming.

I wish there was just one event that did it, if it was that simple I'd be putting everyone I come into contact with into that situation.

I spoke with Kymbra Clayton in early 2021 about her paper, Critiquing the Requirement of Oneness. It was on a bunch of, "proof endos exist," lists, and it didn't sit right with me. I was surprised to find that she wasn’t... quite anti endo, but she was upset that her work was being used to support them. Her paper was specifically about the shift in clinical circles from final fusion to functional multiplicity as a possible treatment goal. It sort of sent me deeper on the anti side, but it made me realize that, holy crap, I can talk to these people???

So I emailed Colin Ross later that year, desperate to prove someone else wrong, and despite numerous back and forth emails, he was completely pro endo. I never spoke about that conversation until I made my post about it... jeez, what, two weeks ago? What even is time.

But from there, I worked through other doctors, pro and anti, from both my personal, professional circles, and anyone else who would respond to inquiries about their work on whatever social media they were active on. Mostly, as therapists, they stressed the importance of understanding and kindness, regardless of personal beliefs.

I ended up helping a lot of endogenic systems learn about DID, and I realized that, wow, shocking, being nice facilitates conversation. As I got nicer, people were more willing to talk to me about their experiences. I saw how many people were really struggling and I realized that I wanted to help them more than I wanted to be right.

I got REALLY goddamn tired of hearing, "we don't have DID," and I realized I had to concede on that point. There was ZERO conversation to be had if I couldn't get my head around that. But if not DID, then what?

The more I heard, the more I shaped my own thoughts and understanding, the more I broadened my academic searches (wow, there's more terms to Google than just "DID trauma"), and the research was just overwhelming.

I wanted so badly to see the Stanford Tulpa studies fail that I actually started to enjoy the other work of the doctors involved (specifically Tanya Luhrmann, Michael Lifshitz is a little out there for me, but he sure is passionate). The more I read, the more I understood what they were hoping to accomplish and prove, and the more I saw ways that this kind of research can help people.

I don't agree with everything, but I'm still excited to see where it goes, and I realized it's okay to have mixed feelings and opinions, as long as I could be respectful about it.

I've been sneaking out endo safe content for about a year now, adding it on as the last tags. I've discussed at length about my changing beliefs. I'm shocked that no one noticed??

But I didn't actually change my stance publicly until the antis turned on me.

With this new round of antis from TikTok, they were posting stuff about DID that wasn't correct. At all. Some of it was disgustingly wrong. I tried to correct them, gave them pointers and resources to use, explained things they weren't understanding. I gave an amazing play by play of how @sophieinwonderland was going to tear their post apart, and managed to get it pretty damn close to what actually happened! That was fun.

And in return, they called me an endo and started an actual smear campaign against me.

(Hi, friendos, another reminder to get off my blogs and block me, please)

It was the straw that broke the back. I had held on the anti label specifically to be able to work within the anti community, but I was clearly not anti, these were clearly not my people, and they weren't interested in learning. Their actions and behaviour were beyond low. I wanted nothing to do with them.

But, I mean, I guess some people noticed my slow shift, because when I did reach out into the endo community just before I made my first Colin Ross post, they were quick to pull me in without question.

The acceptance and kindness that has been shown to me is... breathtaking. I can't think of a better word. The conversations that I've been having with people have been more interesting and beneficial than ever before.

Syscourse needs to involve actual conversation, and I've finally found that on the pro side.

TL;dr I wanted to prove endos wrong SO badly that I accidentally proved them right

[athenaswrath]

Until I Found You - Chapter 2

Quinn Hughes x Reader

Word Count: 851

Chapter 1 >Chapter 2< Chapter 3 Chapter 4

When you arrived at the lake house Quinn wasn't there yet, so they decided he was the one crashing on the couch since there were only three rooms and the rest of you were going to sleep in pairs, so it was Trevor and Jamie, Jack and Luke and you with Holtz

While they played football outside, you decided to take a shower to calm your nerves, knowing that I was going to be with them off work for months felt so different, plus Quinn is going to be here any minute, you've heard a lot about him and while Luke and Jack have said that he's so protective over them and he worries a lot they've said that he's quite grumpy, something Nico, Trevor and Cole have confirmed. So you wanted to make a good impression and hopefully your awkwardness was going to allow it just this one time...

"Fuck" you said after you knocked into someone making them spill their beer all over them. Fan-fucking-tastic, there goes your opportunity to get on the good side of the oldest Hughes. "I'm so incredibly sorry, really let me... I can wash your clothes, and grab another beer for you, I wasn't really looking..."

"It's okay, I was going to take a shower now anyways, is nice to meet you" and right after he said that he left and closed the door of the room you just left. To say you were panicking was an understandment the least thing you wanted to do was to make things awkward, he was probably going to complain about you to Jack and Luke, I mean you were the only girl and they were already going to hold some things back because of that...

you don't know how long you've been standing on the corridor when Holtzy grabbed your face "Belle you okay? did you see Huggy?"

"yes... yeah he's.. he said he was going to take a shower" I said pointing at the door while looking down at the wet floor, he followed my sight and I saw understandment flashing on his face "go help the boys downstairs before they set the house on fire I'll clean this... nope, I'll do it" he said before I could interrupt him

When I entered the kitchen the boys were emptying the fridge (Ellen so kindly stored beforehand) trying to find something to defrost. So I sent them to set the table while I prepared something, Jamie being his usual self (a sweetheart that is) came to help me, we've only met a couple of times and for a very short time but he was so easy to get along with. This was the first time he tagged along too, only cause him and Trevor missed each other with Jamie being on the Flyers now. Almost an hour later we took everything to the table where four giant whiny babies were waiting for the food.

We were starting to eat when I heard Quinn running downstairs "Too late, food's gone Huggy Bear" Jack said when he came into view, "This is y/n by the way be nice, I actually like her"

"Wow didn't know you were capable of liking other than yourself" Trevor told him but Jack answered "oh please as if you were any better, you can't even act as if you cared for others" and obviously Trevor's sassiness attacked "because I don't" Jamie, Holtzy and I just looked at each other and smiled.

"Since you won the cup you're less talkative, are you too much for us now Cap?" Trevor told the oldest Hughes while smirking, he knew what he was doing, Jack always tells me that Zegras' favorite pastime is getting on Quinn's nerves "I've always been too much for you Zegras but I'm glad you finally accept it".

They kept throwing snarky comments and while I was glad Quinn didn't mention anything about our encounter, I was still worried that he was upset, so while everyone was getting ready to go to bed, I went downstairs to find Quinn.

"Hey" I said softly "you should go upstairs and sleep there, I mean is your room after all. Holtzy is there but I'm sure Jack or Lu wouldn't mind switching" when he didn't answer I looked at him and he had a small frown while looking intensely at me.

You were caught off guard by the momentary awkwardness that seemed to radiate from him, not used to seeing a Hughes in any other way than the confident and playful boys.

"Thank you, but it's okay if you sleep there. And... I'm sorry, I... What happened earlier was my fault, so you don't have to blame yourself for it, it is nice to finally meet the girl which my brothers feel so close to" he gave me a small smile and headed upstairs where Luke was yelling for him.

With my heart beating slightly faster than usual (which was fast enough already) I slept that night besides a snuggling Holtz, feeling hopeful about having a good time with everyone and a non-uncomfortable interaction with Quinn.

_________________________________________

Note: didn't love this chapter but now that Quinny finally met the reader I'll have more inspiration. Also there's going to be dual POV in the next chapters.

If you have suggestions or you see a mistake (english is not my main language) please let me know!

[vividachromatic]

Meant To Stay The Worst - Pt. 3

Desc. : Reader meets Alastor’s mother for the first time!

Alastor x reader

Tags: ongoing, marriage, confessions / proposals, manipulation and toxic relationships, canon typical violence and language

((<- Pt. 2 - Pt. 4 ->))

*

To say you were nervous about meeting his mother would be an understatement. If she didn't like you, that would probably be THE dealbreaker, considering the way Alastor talks about her - like she is the most important person in his life.

Alastor found your uneasiness funny and just told you to relax. He told you his mother wasn't a scary person. And she has been looking forward to meeting you for a very long time; ever since Alastor mentioned he was seeing a girl he really liked she's been beyond excited and repeatedly asked him if he'd invite her over.

"That's not what I'm concerned about - I'm concerned about me! I know how to make a bad impression, not how to make a good one..." Not that you cared about the impression you made on other people most of the time. Most of the people you knew where snobs who just pretended to like you anyway.

"Darling. Don't worry about making a perfect impression, my mother is a kind person. She can even see inside people's souls~" He chuckled, "literally..."

"Yeah, I'm not so sure if that makes me feel so much better..."

Plus, the way Alastor seemed to enjoy your anxiousness didn't help either.

Anyway, there was no postponing this you suppose, so you got ready to walk to his mother's house. She seems to live nearby.

Alastor was satisfied with the whole situation right now. After he first decided he was going to confess his feelings to you he was scared of how everything would play out. He likes to be in control of any situation - and even though he tried his best to do that, he still couldn't predict the actual feelings part.

But your reaction to him killing someone was the most confusing thing for him.

You were clearly shocked and probably even traumatized by the event. But not even once did you seem scared of him.

It's more the opposite. Just like him, you were more of a classy person - never really seeking out other's people's touch too much. But after the incident this changed. Not only did you immideatly lean into him when when he tried to comfort you when you were crying, you also seeked out and accepted his touch warmly every single time after the incident.

This odd reaction to seeing someone murder someone else in cold-blood lead him to a specific conclusion: You didn't regard the situation that way. You actually saw it as him protecting you. And ever since that day, you've seen him as your protector. Which would mean that him trying to manipulate you into thinking exactly that actually worked.

But there is one problem with that: he thinks you are way too smart to just fall for his simple manipulation tactic like that. Which is why he at first considered the possibility that you were only pretending to be okay with it and would try to tell someone else as soon as he let you go. But you never did that. Which must mean that you are being willfully immoral.

So, you knew he was manipulating you and played along?

He thought - maybe you wanted to be protected? Wanted to be guided?

Maybe it was because you had a bad father figure in your life or maybe your mind was just a little more twisted than he originally thought?

In any case, this would work for him. You wanting to be guided - him wanting to guide you.

If he played this well - he could very quickly turn this into making you marry him, which could, if you ever changed your mind about him, trap you into the relationship anyway. Even if you would find out about his more sinister hobbies...

It would disappoint him to have that kind of relationship with you, yes, but it could also end with both of you having the ideal relationship - supporting even your most twisted desires while also having a loving husband and wife - later maybe even family.

The two of you approached the house of Alastor's mother now.

His two favorite people were about to meet, and if the meeting went well he was sure he would ask your father for your hand at his meeting with him.

Alastor quietly knocked on the door, while you were standing more behind him than next to him.

Then the door opened, revealing a petite, middle-aged woman with beautiful curly hair. Her face immideatly turned soft when she spotted her son. "Alastor, my dear..." she pulled him towards her into a warm embrace and he, too, had a genuine smile on his face as he leaned down to hug her.

You smiled watching the two of them. A genuine warm embrace between family members isn't something you got to see very often.

When Alastor pulled away from the hug, he pulled you to his side by your waist, so that you were now facing his mother.

...Wait, how should you greet her? Should you shake hands? Bow? ...

In the end you just awkwardly waved at her. The woman looked confused for a second, before she just pulled you into a hug as well. You were surprised, so you forgot reciprocating before she already stepped away from you.

Great, now you made an awkward fool of yourself.

She still held on to your arms, as she looked you up an down. "I, uh- I'm... Y/N?"

The woman let out a small laugh and petted you on the head. "Oh, I know that sweetie, what I didn't know is that you were such a timid one! Come on in, you two. Dinner is almost ready!"

You carefully stepped into the house looking back at Alastor, who just smiled at you and took off your coat to hang it on the wardrobe.

"I'm going to go to get something for a minute, if that's okay, darling? I'll be right back!" He declared and pushed you into the room his mother was in. Before you could protest, he was already gone.

Great. For someone who claims to like you, he seems to really enjoy putting you in uncomfortable situations.

His mother was currently finishing off some rice with different sorts of vegetables and seasonings... "Oh honey, could you please help and cut the rest of these onions for me? Only if it's okay!" She asked you with a warm smile.

Oh oh. Now your horrendous cooking skills would come to show. You were a downright horrible cook - everytime you touched a stove something or someone, would burn. And you never had to cook before... you were rich. Others just did that for you...

But... you were able to cut some onions at least right? Haha...

"Of course, ma'am..!" You smiled nervously. Hoping she wouldn't notice your concern as you picked up one of the knives...

"Oh no, dear! You can't take that knife to cut an onion!" She chuckled, taking the knife from you and handing you a different one.

Nice. Not embarrassing at all.

Now, while you were trying to complete the extremely challenging task of cutting this onion - his mother turned to the other side of the kitchen to finish preparing the rice again.

"You know, I was pretty excited when Al told me that he finally met a girl he liked. My little boy never brought home any girls in his life, so I thought he must either be lying or you're someone real special!" She explained while preparing the food.

You didn't know how to respond, but you were touched by her words. And she confirmed that Alastor really has never dated anyone before - not that you thought that he was lying. You were glad, since you were the same, though you wouldn't have minded either way.

"Look, girl..." The woman who was only a little shorter than you stepped next to you again and took the cutting board from you with a sigh, cutting the onion properly. "I think you're a really pretty girl and I am glad my Al has found someone he likes for once; but I just wanna make sure that you're the right one for my boy, you know? That you're serious about him."

You let out a shaky breath. You were embarrassed at your need of help for such a simple task. Now she probably hates you and-

...

But you were serious about Alastor at least. But how could you properly convey this to her?

"I- I'm sorry, I am really not good at this. But, I really like Alastor. I like him... more than I've liked anyone before-"

You weren't sure how else to put it and stopped yourself - trying to word it differently, but the woman interrupted you with a sudden and short hug.

"That's all I wanted to hear, honey." She smiled warmly at you as she pulled away again.

She took the cutting board with her to put the freshly cut onions inside the rice. "This is Al's favorite meal by the way! If you want to, I can teach you the recipe some day?"

Your eyes lit up in relief. Her wanting to teach you, probably meant she didn't want to never let you see her or her son again. You nodded enthusiastically and she laughed.

Later during the meal the three of you had a nice talk. The house was... warm. It looked smaller than you were used to and the furniture looked very different. But this home was warm, while yours seemed cold. You only had a single dinner with the two of them together, but it felt better than any you had with your own family, no matter how expensive the food may have been.

After leaving his mother's home for that day Alastor asked you if you wanted to stay at his house for the night. You agreed.

When you arrived at his house again you let out a quiet yawn and started taking off your coat. Again, Alastor took it from you to hang it on the wardrobe. Then he gestured for you to sit on a nearby chair.

Confused you wordlessly obliged at which he grinned. He then kneeled in front of you to take off your shoes for you.

You rolled your eyes at him with a chuckle, "Really? You don't have to do that now."

He gave you a wryly amused smile, "I know. I just want to spoil the woman I adore so much."

You let out an embarrassed huff as your face started reddening.

Alastor, perceptive as he is, noticed this of course and made it worse by taking your hand and planting a small kiss on its back.

When he got up again he extended his hand towards you to take and led you to sit on the couch with him.

"See? I told you my mother would like you. She has a knack for seeing who people really are..." Alastor grinned.

"Really?" You asked him.

You liked both of them. But if that was true wouldn't she see that her son is a killer? And that you liked it?

"My mother always said 'what you do for the people you love is more important than what the world wants you to do'." He quoted with a smirk like he read your mind.

Well, if you twisted these words a little the way he saw things could make sense.

You wondered; was the man he killed for you the first person he's killed? You weren't so sure. His movements seemed way too natural. Too calculated.

His behavior afterwards way too uncaring.

...The evil serial killer of Louisiana. His profile fitted Alastor's way too perfectly.

So far he has had four victims. You researched them for a bit. All of them were filthy, power-hungry and abusive men and one woman. The police suspected a vigilante.

Of course you weren't completely sure it was him. But Alastor's certainty that the killer would not go after you was still ringing in your head.

So what would someone who can actually see inside your soul actually think of you?

You didn't think of yourself as a normal person before this, but not as a bad one either. But now...

It wasn't the fact that you didn't care if he was a serial-killer or not that made you bad, it was more than that. It was that some fucked-up part inside of you liked it.

You wanted the man who was sitting next to you right now in every way possible.

You definitely were at least just as bad. It was probably just more in a passive and masochistic way, than his direct and sadistic one.

So, did you really want to settle for this?

...yes definitely.

You didn't care about that man dying that night.

And now you weren't even sure anymore if that's what you've always thought in the first place, or if this is just what you forced yourself to think, so you could get over it.

Regardless, you just felt cold towards that man. He was better of dead, just like all the other people Alastor probably killed.

Distancing yourself from other people's humanity was wrong and narcissistic. You knew that but still decided to go that path.

Decided to be with Alastor. And enjoy it.

"So? You're going to meet with my father tomorrow, right? Are you at least a little nervous?" You asked him after a small comfortable silence between the two of you.

"Hmm... I think nervous is the wrong word. But it would be bothersome, if your father dislikes me." Alastor answered.

"Even if my father doesn't approve of you, I'll still stick with you. You know that, right?" You asked him.

He raised his brow, giving you a half-grin, surprised by your earnesty. "You're such a sweetheart, you know that?" He asked, locking your head between his hands and lowering his face to yours until you were separated only by a few inches.

Your confidence immediately falters and you became putty in his hands again.

He chuckled against your face, seemingly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Y/N, can I ask you something?"

"...Of course."

"How much do you like me?" He whispered against your lips. Not only because he was sure he wanted to take this a step further with you now, but also because he wanted to be able to predict how exactly you'd answer if he'd ask you to be his forever.

Your breath hitched. You weren't sure how to answer.

If you were honest you would have to admit, that you were completely and utterly obsessed with him.

...You already met his mother today; he said he adores you...

It's okay to admit, that you like him, right?

God, how was he the one in control always? And why did you love it?

"I like you, Alastor. A lot." You whispered back. He smiled at that and finally kissed you.

You leaned back into the couch, just letting him kiss you. The kiss was nice. Every kiss with him was. And for the first time he deepened the kiss as it became more sensual.

You gasped into the kiss and he grinned, his tongue sliding over your own and you shuddered as he pulled you towards him to sit on his lap.

Just to catch air the two of you parted for a second, looking into each other's eyes. Both of you could see the desire for the other in them.

Alastor tenderly stroked your hair with one of his hands and cupped your cheek with the other.

You calmly closed your eyes, eventhough your heart was beating like crazy.

"I love you."

Your eyes opened and widened in surprise at his words. He, too, looked a little surprised by his own words when he looked up at you.

He wasn't surprised because he said it. He was surprised because he meant it.

Your gaze softened and you gave him a smile. The most loving smile you ever gave someone in your life probably.

"I love you too, Alastor."

He let out a small sigh in relief. Something he didn't do often.

So you really loved him? Did you mean that?

"I will kill for you, you know?"

He wasn't sure if he would make things bad between you two, if he outright said that, but he had the feeling he wouldn't. You were too perfect for him.

You paused for a second. Then you gave him a weird smile. "I know. And I would do the same."

-----------

Thank youuu for reading!

@cryptidghostgirl @adeadreader

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers pt. 1

Gif not mine

A/N: Title subject to change, not sure how I feel about it. This is my first published fic here so pls be gentle. Also I'm terrible at summaries.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Summary: For the most part swap Vision with mutant Y/N whose powers were enhanced by the Mind stone embedded in her forehead courtesy of Hydra. Takes place post Multiverse of Madness, only instead of trying to kill America Chavez, Wanda taught the teen how to control her powers and in doing so, learned how said powers worked herself, becoming able to copy them.

With her newfound powers, Wanda searches the multiverse for her lost spouse and children. She discovers a universe where Y/N exists but she and their sons do not. This aligns with her plans, allowing her to avoid dealing with another version of herself. Using her powers, Wanda intends to make Y/N love her in an attempt to rebuild their family. Whether she does so willingly, or the Scarlet Witch makes her, both are acceptable to Wanda.

Masterlist here

Chapter One

A silent scream escapes your lips as you gasp for breath. Another nightmare. Damn, that's the third one this week, and it's only Monday. Weary, you wipe the sweat from your forehead and head to the bathroom to splash water on your face. It's finals week, and you have an exam in a few hours. A quick glance at the clock shows that it's already 3AM and you groan. Maybe you can manage to get a couple more hours of sleep before the rest of the night slips away.

Lately, for some unknown reason, your troubled mind has been subjecting you to night terrors that make you question your entire reality. These nightmares have been unusually realistic, and you frequently experience more than one per night. At times, you are haunted by so many consecutive nightmares, causing your friends to wonder if you are getting any sleep at all.

The sound of your footsteps padding across the floor is the only thing you hear as you walk from your bedroom to the adjoining bathroom to wash your face. You don't bother turning on the lights since you have a nightlight in the bathroom. You've never been a fan of the pitch black darkness in the bathroom, but the bright overhead lights give you a migraine at the best of times. As a result, your bathroom is mostly covered in shadows, usually just enough for you to do what you need to do and then go back to bed. However, tonight is different. As you accidentally glance up at your reflection, your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you see a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at you from behind, causing your heart to race.

As you spin around, you raise a fist to defend yourself against the intruder, only to realize that you are alone in your bathroom. You turn back to your mirror and find yourself alone once again. It must have been remnants of the nightmare. In a hurry, you turn on the faucet's cold water tap, run your hands under it, and splash your face. Although hesitant to fully look away from your reflection for fear of the 'intruder' returning, you still want to wipe the sweat from your clammy face.

It was just a bad dream. However realistic, it wasn’t actually real. Shaking it off, you quickly close the bathroom door and head back to bed, intent on getting as much of your remaining night’s sleep as you can before your exam tomorrow. Or rather, later today. 

A few hours later, you find yourself in your usual study spot at the university. The library is your safe haven, and it's definitely your favorite place to be. Even if you didn't have to study (which you absolutely did - you were so far behind if you had any hope of graduating with honors, you needed to spend every available moment here), you would often be found here simply reading a book. Your friends and professors are well aware of your voracious appetite for reading, so if anyone ever wonders where to find you, the answer is likely to be here.

Your first exam was in an hour, and you were cramming every last bit of knowledge you could before taking said exam. You needed the highest grade possible. Your future, your escape, depended on it. It could be argued that this desperation was why you initially didn't notice the sound of children's voices reverberating through the library. While the library was usually empty, it was not uncommon for adult students to bring their children with them to study when their own childcare plans fell through. It was inconvenient, but you tried to be considerate and simply tuning it out. Another day, another distraction, and you didn't have time for it.

Eventually, the disruptive sound became impossible to ignore, and despite your desire to not be rude, you needed to focus and get your work done. With more force than strictly necessary, you slammed your book shut, preparing to find a quieter place to study. However, just as you were about to stand up, two twin boys, around ten years old, came running down the library hall, filled with laughter and giggles, heading straight towards you. Your eyes widened as you realized they had no intention of changing their course - they were definitely going to collide with you.

Opening your arms to catch them, and hopefully prevent all of you from careening onto the ground, you found yourself asking “Hey what’s all this? Where’s your mother, you guys?”

The boys looked at you, confused. “What are you talking about, Momma?”

Your eyes turned the size of saucers. “Momma”? That was new. Someone must be playing a trick on you. How ~delightful~ you thought, annoyed. As if you weren’t already stressed out enough, someone had roped in a couple of kids to play a game of fuck around and find out. Well, whomever had put them up to this, when you found them, they were about to find out. 

The library's main door swung open, revealing the presence of an incredibly beautiful woman you estimated to be in her mid thirties, with fiery red hair and the most mesmerizing emerald eyes you had ever seen. Her appearance headed straight towards you left you speechless, immediately taking all the wind out of your sails. Oh well, you were always more bark than bite, you supposed. If you thought her looks were stunning, though, they paled in comparison to the melodic sound of her angelic voice.

“Billy, Tommy, come here boys!”

"Mommy!" the twins shouted at the same time before running into her arms. Part of you wanted to scold them for clearly breaking the library's code of conduct, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it when all three of them just looked so happy. You couldn't explain why your heart clenched at the sight of them either, but for some reason, now that the initial surprise had faded, you were soothed by their presence.

You observe their interaction, not wanting to interrupt their intimate moment. Your heart ached at how comfortable the family appeared to be with one another. Once the stunning woman appears reassured about her children’s well-being, she instructs them to go play and shooing them away before redirecting her attention towards you. You feel a pleasant tightening in your chest as her warm gaze focuses on you.

Even though the children have clearly disrupted your valuable study time, you find yourself dismissing it as if it were insignificant. "Oh, it's no problem, I understand how children can be." You don't, you have never had a sibling nor a child of your own, and you have never babysat a day in your life. 

"It's just that they missed you so much, darling," she whispered, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

“Huh?”

She takes a step closer, invading your personal space, and begins adjusting your shirt. One of the buttons had come undone at some point, and she seems determined to fix it. Part of you wants to point out that she, a complete stranger, should not be in your personal space, let alone touching your clothing. And what did she mean by saying that her children "missed" you? You didn't know them. You didn't even know her. Warning bells start ringing in your head, as you are pretty sure this is the plot of some horror movie. You should leave. This is not a level of crazy you can deal with right now. 

"The boys missed you, Detka. It's been a long time since you've been home, so we decided to come see you!" The woman finally finishes fixing your shirt and looks up at you. Though there is warmth in her expression, there's also a hint of madness, her once green eyes tinged with red.

“I-ah… that’s great, and all but I uhh.. I have an exam coming up, I need to get going.”

“Going?”

The warmth in the woman's voice is gone, replaced by a raspy iciness that sends a chill down your spine.

"My love, the only place you need to go is home, with us, your family."

You turn to face the woman and immediately regret it. Standing before you is no longer the woman in mom jeans and a plaid shirt. Instead, she appears to be dressed in some expensive sorceress cosplay that you estimate would cost thousands of dollars to create or purchase. When... when could she have possibly changed? Just a second ago she was dressed like a normal person, right?

Slowly, you take in the sight of her. Not only has her outfit changed, but her overall appearance as well. Her cheeks hollowed, the sockets of her eyes are sunken as if she hasn't slept in weeks, and her eyes are a glowing crimson. The same shade from your nightmares.

This isn’t real. This is another nightmare. One you need to wake up from. 

“Oh absolutely fucking not.” You whisper, as you turn and run.

Unbeknownst to you, the Scarlet Witch allows you to flee. With a flick of her wrist, she could have immobilized you, could have compelled you to accompany her, whether willingly or not, but she chooses not to. The pursuit begins, and she intends to enjoy herself. You will succumb to her, and do so quite prettily. She starts walking down the hallway after you, taking her time. After all, now that she has found you, she has all the time in the world to play with you.

Grace has never been a quality that you possess. In fact, you remember a song your mother made up when you were a child specifically to remind you just how graceless you were. Not that it helps you now, as your brain never finds the appropriate time to recall useless facts. Cursing your ineptitude, you rush out of the library as fast as your legs can carry you.

 Moments later, you’re throwing yourself into every door along the hall, however, none of them open. What is wrong with this place? Why is everything locked? You don't remember the university being so fond of locking everything, but then again, you only go to about the same four places. Variety might be the spice of life, but your stomach (anxiety) prefers a milder taste.

As you run, you hear the clicking of the woman's heels, hot on your trail. Or is she really hot on your trail? It sounds as if... you tilt your head, listening. She's walking? You think to yourself that surely you can outrun a woman walking in heels. Surely. (Your asthma would suggest otherwise). Abandoning yet another locked door, you rush further down the hallway. Maybe you don't need to outrun her or find a room to hide in; after all, barricading yourself would only delay the inevitable. Your goal is to reach civilization, to find other people. Speaking of which, where is everyone? Usually, this wing of the university is bustling with activity at this hour.

Exhausted, you pause to catch your breath, hands resting on your knees, hoping that you have managed to buy yourself some time. Unfortunately, your hopes are dashed as her low, raspy voice fills the corridors, humming what sounds like a lullaby in an unfamiliar language. The eerie sound sends chills down your spine, making it painfully clear that luck is not on your side. Where could she be? She is not next to you, nor ahead, yet her voice continues to echo, sounding almost...

Almost the same moment you realize the source of the danger, a hand reaches through the mirror from behind you and grabs your shirt with an unnatural strength. You scream loudly, hoping to alert someone in the building for help, but no one comes to your aid. "What the- LET GO OF ME!" You forcefully pull your shirt from her grip, tearing it in the process, and hastily retreat down the hallway.

To your horror, you see the woman's arm brace against the wall and begin to pull herself out through the mirror. You scramble to your feet, desperate to flee once again, with only one thought repeating in your mind: "What the fuck?!" None of this could be real.

"Y/N," a low voice said in a saccharine tone. "Where do you think you're going? Don't you know that I will always find you? I have crossed thousands of universes to find you, and now that I have you, I will never let you go." In any other context, this would probably be incredibly sweet. Currently however, it only fuels your fear, sending you into a blind panic. You have to escape whatever the hell this is.

Navigating through corridor after corridor you eventually  spot one of your classmates at the end, entering the exact exam room you needed to be in that morning. It's a desperate situation, but maybe they can buy you some time while you make your escape through a window or something. It’s not a brave thought, you’re not proud of it, but survival instincts have already kicked in. 

You quickly catch up to your classmate, despite initially being so much farther behind, managing to slide into the room just after them. The proctor promptly closes the door behind you. You're breathing heavily, and in your haste, you embarrassingly just slid into the backside of your classmate, with your shirt heavily torn. You must look ridiculous, but unsurprisingly no one questions you about it, your classmate simply looking miffed and whispering an insult as they move out of your personal space. The situation would be comical if you hadn't just been running for your life.

It’s fine. This is fine. Everything’s fine. 

Steadying your breathing, you make your way to the back of the classroom, nearest the window and stare apprehensively at the door. You’re expecting any second now for that woman to come barging in, but she doesn’t, and now here you are ready for your exam. Wow you must really be losing it. Stress induced hallucinations, that has to be it.

Although you were hesitant to simply continue with your day, the world doesn't wait for anyone. Whether you actively participated or not, your proctor would still grade your exam, which your future still depended on. You made an effort to push the hallucination from your mind and concentrate on the information you had retained for the exam, aiming to achieve the highest score possible.

Once you have completed the exam, you hand it in and cautiously enter the hallway. The grades wouldn't be posted until the end of the term, but you were confident enough in your answers to believe that you had earned at least an A. Whether it was an A+ or A- was still uncertain, but you were hoping for the former. So focused were you on your test that you had almost forgotten about the incident earlier that morning. For a moment, you wondered if you should visit the university's nurse. Although she was not an actual doctor, it was a free service, and perhaps she could recommend something. On the other hand, at worst, she would suggest getting more sleep, and at best, she would advise you to see a doctor, which you couldn't afford. Not to mention the argument your parents would start regarding the doctor’s bill (as if they were above opening your mail). Perhaps not. 

You had no more exams for the day, so it was time to go home. There were chores to do for your parents, and then you had to study for tomorrow's exam. If you were lucky, you could finish everything early and get a few extra hours of sleep, hopefully avoiding another hallucination like today. Rubbing the exhaustion from your face, you head towards the bus stop. It was early enough that the bus should arrive within the next fifteen minutes, and you would be home in about an hour. Everything was going according to plan. Tomorrow was going to be a great day, you just had a feeling.

Once on the bus, your exhaustion started to overwhelm you, your headphones doing little to drown out the ambient noise. Before long, you were fast asleep. Even if you were awake, you probably wouldn't have noticed the viridian eyes in the reflection of the bus window watching over you. Unlike before, these eyes didn't appear to be of malicious intent. If anything, they seemed to observe you with care and empathy. If the volume of your headphones spontaneously happened to outweigh that of the alarm you had set for yourself to awaken you for your stop, that was just a coincidence.

A/N 2: sorry but the writers of the M.o.M. butchered her character just to have her shoehorned into a villain role so Strange would have an adversary already established in the MCU as a powerful magic user - I'm still salty about it. However Ms. Olsen's performance was phenomenal. Anyway lmk if this is absolutely trash or if you wanna maybe read more? I have a couple of chapters pre-written but not the entire thing.

Many thanks to my editors @flowers-shouldnt-die, and Brooke for helping me through this and providing valuable feedback! Especially @flowers-shouldnt-die for her assistance with translations in helping me learn both Hungarian and Russian for this. Wouldn't have made it this far in the story without you :3

[medicinemane]

Man, I'm just kind of dazed today

I woke up yesterday around 9am, didn't do much for the day, went to bed... realized it was too hot to fall asleep (cause my window is broken so I can't open it)

So I got up, filled 3 box with papers as I sorted out the magazines and mail

Then I needed to stay up till after 8am so I could go to the post office to return that bowl. Came back and laid down but... you know when your body just feels wired and you really need to sleep but can't? Probably cause it's pumping out hormones to keep me awake to compensate for me being so tired, that's my guess based on how it feels

Anyway, lay down and kind of drift off with a video in the background, but... I think I was just on the verge of sleep but not able to cross over... like dozing at best

Then I hear Bart making noise and look over and he's acting like he's hunting a mouse, and sure enough he was, so he helps me cup it, and then I go take it to a field outside of town to hopefully live a better life... but clearly wasn't sleeping if I'm doing that

And... I'm still up. I think I'm gonna try and take another crack at sleeping... I hope I can do it. Things do at least feel a bit cooler

But yeah, I'm a mess today, gonna be two days worth of dash to look through whenever I get up, and then I can also respond to the couple messages I've got

But oof... hate feeling like this. The non depressed part of me wants to die just because maybe then I could finally rest

[mirroredmemoriez]

Lynnmanda headcanons?

OK FINALLY ABLE TO GET BACK TO THIS- Recovered from my fever... Anyway, thanks for the ask! I don't think I have very specific headcannons, just a very clear idea of their dynamic in my own eyes let's say? For example, a lot of the time when discussing ships and such there is the point of who's more dominant/submissive in fandoms yada yada. A lot of the time with Lynnmanda, I see people view Amanda taking the very dominant role, which I stray away from.

Amanda is a fucking crash out. HAHUIREHFUI- She also lacks a lot of experience Lynn has, so there is quite an imbalance when it comes to any aspect of that ship you look at, be it romantic or sexually. Lynn likely has had many average relationships and is married... Oh and having an affair! Sure, she isn't the healthiest example of romance, but in comparison to Amanda? Who's only canonical relationship was with a man who helped her when it came to her drug addiction? Yeah. Lynn is ''better'.

Because also if we theorise other relationships for Amanda, somewhere like when she was in prison isn't the best place for any healthy dynamics. That's also where her addiction started. Then during her time with John? I don't believe even flings were on Amanda's mind, let alone a romantic partner. When people point to her behaviour in Saw 3, let me say it again. AMANDA IS A CRASH OUT. Because whilst yes she was all up in Lynn's business enough for her to likely tell you what shampoo brand she used, Amanda is also sobbing some minutes later and relying on Lynn. Her emotions fluctuate so much and the scenario that is going on isn't the best place to draw conclusions around how she'd act in an actual relationship, romantically or sexually.

Look, it's Saw. I don't have to think this hard, but I do. HURFHIUER Anyway, Amanda latches to people and she isn't just a loyal person, she is DEVOTED. Whether that would extend to Lynn after John kicks the bucket is a thought to be had. One thing I mention a lot when discussing this, is the fact that Amanda does not have a clear definition for love. Be it romantic, parental or one of idolisation. The way she navigates her feelings isn't the standard and the way she displays them isn't either. So much overlaps? These posts I think I articulate myself a bit better and go in more depth??? In regards to them as individuals and together.

Because another thing I'd say I don't subscribe to as much as some of the rest of the fandom is Lynn taking on a very nurturing role to Amanda. Don't get me wrong, when it comes to Lynnmanda I don't think Lynn is leaving Amanda to her demons.... But she's a brain surgeon not a psychiatrist. I see their dynamic as more a push and pull, leaning on one another even if they can't exactly HELP what the other is going through. Neither can be ''fixed.'' I think both have had enough of the concept of people trying to better them.

Characterisation wise with writing I really love my associate @arythias work in the Lynnmanda tag, seeing as we discussed it a lot together :P

And with some of these you may find me in the comments yapping away too. Anyway I am spiralling off- Once again, thank you for the ask! I may come back to these points whenever I feel like it...

[bonesbuckleup]

Hi, random q. I saw in your tags that you swear by Scrivener for original fic. I’m still plugging away in ye olde Word and now I’m intrigued to know what about Scrivener you like so much. I’ve def heard about it but never used it, so I’m curious :)

YES I would love to tell you about my lord and savior software Scrivener. I hope you don't mind I published this long, long answer publicly.

So. The main issue I have with Word and Google Docs is that you hit a certain length/word count, and it starts to lag and load kind of jerkily. You know? Also, navigating chapter to chapter or scene to scene is awkward for me--you either have to have a whole bunch of individual documents and multiple windows open, or you have to use headers and the table of contents...which is fine for quickly finding chapters but less so for scenes within those chapters.

Messy, basically. Does not spark joy for me.

Enter Scrivener.

Now, before I evangelize a bit, I will say that Windows Scrivener and Mac Scrivener are not 100% created equal. They are both better, I think, than Word or Google docs, but the Mac version is a bit slicker and a little nicer to look at. I only say that for if you're using Windows, because if so my screencaps below won't exactly match what you see if/when you download the program.

ONWARD.

So, the #1 thing that Scrivener has over Word is that it's a one time fee, not a subscription. So while it is a little pricey (Just went and looked, $59.99 USD), it's only the one payment. All updates and such are covered and available as free downloads. I will also say that Scrivener gives you a 30 day free trial. That's not 30 consecutive days, but 30 days of use--if you only use it every other day, you'll have the trial for 60 days. They make it really easy to figure out if it's for you or not.

This is also going to feel like a lot, but there are built in tutorials and it's actually pretty intuitive, depending on how your brain works. Anyway! The basic gist of Scrivener is that it's a digital binder. You can keep all your book stuff in one place:

As you can see, there's the manuscript (aka my book), notes, research, more. Tbh, I mostly just use notes and Manuscript, but if it floats your boat, you can store maps, place names, worldbuilding, playlist links, moodboards, a whole ton of stuff, all in one menu that's easy to access and in a single window. You can organize it however itches your brain the best way.

But like I said, for me, the best is that Manuscript part, which I'm going to go into now. I use a three act structure for books (but break the big ol' middle act into two pieces because it makes my brain happy), so each act gets a folder.

When I click and expand that act, each chapter has it's own folder. However, it also shows quick-reference index cards, so I can have an at-a-glance at what's going down in each chapter. (I'm using a outline system called Save the Cat for this book, which is why all my chapters have titles like 'Catalyst', feel free to ignore those...I also have a very compact timeline, so to help me stay organized, I labeled each chapter with when it happens.)

You can do the same with each individual chapter and the scenes, where when you click on the chapter folder, each scene gets a card. If you don't type in a summary, it'll just auto-populate the start of whatever content you were writing. You can see this in the 'Copper's Candids NEW' card.

And, of course, it is writing software. When you click on the individual scene, it opens the blank document, and you can get cracking.

So. This system is nice for a few reasons. My favorite is that it makes navigating, reorganizing, and/or rewriting scenes extremely easy. It's just point and click, drag and drop. You can also open two docs in the same window at once, like this:

Which is a nice feature for several reasons--you can work on a new version of a scene with the old one pulled up next to it, or if there's something you wrote earlier or that comes later that's important to what you're working on now, you can have them both up for quick referencing.

Another slick thing is each doc has a notes section off to the right side of the screen--which is optional! I use it for future revision notes/descriptions of how I want the scene to go:

My other favorite part of Scrivener is that it makes it very easy to hoard your deleted scenes like a deranged dragon in case you want them later. My garbage looks like this:

There are SO MANY FILES hanging out in my trash, and you know what? I so rarely actually need them, but my god am I glad they're there on the rare occasion that I do. Word, again, can make it more difficult. I always had a massive 'cut' document that was longer than the actual project and again, awful to navigate. This just makes it easier.

Scrivener also makes it easy to compile the manuscript into other doc types--pdf, doc, docx, etc--for easy printing and sharing.

ANYWAY. I'm sure there are approximately 1 million other things I'm missing, but basically Scrivener takes all your book/long project bits, puts them in one centralized file, and makes it super easy to navigate. I've also found that outlining is easier, because I can just make the folders and scenes and drag them around while I noodle through the plot.

10/10, would recommend to any long-form writer. If you have any other questions, please let me know! If anyone has read this far and has a thing about Scrivener to add, please do! I love Scrivener, and a lot of my writing buddies love Scrivener, and it really kinda has revolutionized the way I write original fiction. I'm always happy to yell about how great it is.

[amiizuki]

it will be forever funny to me how the flashback portraits of Wittebrothers made Caleb seem like he's had packing peanuts for a brain

(this post ended up becoming quite lengthy, and so did the tags somehow, because I kinda devolved into a rant closer to the end of writing this whole thing, so bear with me here)

so we know that Philip and Caleb became orphans when both of them were still kids. after that, they ended up in Gravesfield and, to fit in with everyone else who lived there, picked up witch hunting and started thinking that witches are pure evil. Caleb knew perfectly well that he's the only family Philip's had left and that he even may be his his only friend, since, judging by the portraits, they've only ever hung out with each other and we don't know if those two ever made any other actual friends.

until one day, during a witch hunt he and Philip were both a part in (something Caleb seemed happy to do, judging by his smirk there), he met a witch – Evelyn – someone he's been taught to hate and want dead by the townsfolk. someone who, again, in his mind, should be evil.

but he just suddenly does a 180 and goes "damn, you can make fire with your hands, you're actually pretty cool"

and then a few days (?) of talking to her later, he's running off to live with her in the Demon Realm, while simultaneously not giving a single fuck about the brother he's abandoning.

(he even runs off with a smile, with a literal :D face, I fucking can't lmao)

Philip ends up seeing Caleb get dragged off through a weird portal and later follows along, thinking something like "no, my brother wouldn't just up and abandon me without saying anything. he probably got captured by that witch we saw together that one time! she probably used some demon magic to bewitch Caleb and took him through that portal to kill him or worse! I gotta go save him!". and, after spending god knows how long in that realm, searching endlessly for his missing older brother, he eventually finds him. but he also finds that Caleb is not only perfectly okay and not hurt in the slightest, he's also peacefully walking together with the same witch who "captured" him, even holding hands with her.

and when enraged Philip tries to attack Evelyn, to protect Caleb from the witch who took him from his home, from his brother, still thinking that Caleb's under her control, Caleb just... gives him a hug and goes on to introduce the witch as his new wife to him (I'm assuming that portrait is the same day as the other three, if not the same scene), also adding on top of that that they're having a child. all as if nothing happened. treating the whole thing like everything's perfectly okay and just another normal day, fully ignoring the fact that he threw his brother away with no care or thought, leaving him completely alone, a full orphan, now with zero actual family left (in TTT, during their backstory, it's said that "Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother", meaning that either they never got adopted in Gravesfield, or whoever adopted them didn't give a shit about the two, so they still mostly had to fend for themselves), all to go smash some random 5 out of 10 witchussy he talked to, like, 3 times. no fucking wonder Philip killed him!

(btw, jokes aside, it didn't seem like he intended to kill Caleb, because in that portrait where he's ready to kill with a knife in his hand, he's facing forward, while Caleb is actually to his left. so it just looks to me like Philip was gonna try to kill Evelyn again, and Caleb either jumped in front of her to protect her and got accidentally stabbed or he attacked Philip back, to, again, protect Evelyn, and Philip ended up winning that fight. but that's just my theory)

my brother in literal christ and literal titan – why in the FUCK are you just hugging it out with a smile on your face??? you ran off while giving absolutely no warning to anyone, especially your younger brother! why do you think he's here and actively trying to attack you and your new wife? you're not even trying to address the fact that you left him! at least when Luz ran off to a different realm without warning, she had a "I'm still at the camp" cover, so Camila wouldn't worry that much about where her daughter is, and even then she still felt bad for leaving her mother and planned to go back home once summer was over. this chucklefuck, on the other hand, just permanently portaled away to the Boiling Isles, knocked up a witch and fully settled down there, walking around with a big ol' smile and no care in the world. "Philip who? never heard of him"

the only thing that would sorta make this situation seem better (as in, not make Caleb seem like an overly naive ignorant brick), in my opinion, is if they added one more portrait – after the one where he meets the witch, but before the one where he leaves. in that portrait, Caleb would look like he's trying his best to convince Philip that witches aren't actually evil, and perhaps even try to get him to go live with them in the Demon Realm, all the while Philip's looking at him with either disagreement/disappointment/disgust or just rolling his eyes and full on ignoring him, while sharpening his witch hunt tools or something. then it would look like Caleb at least tried to make his brother change his mind, like he tried to offer him a chance to go with them. but no. with the way the portraits look in the final version it just seems like Caleb was fully on-board with killing witches since he was young, even pulling his younger brother along to think the same way, Philip also thought that Caleb was perfectly fine with killing witches, but once he actually meets a real witch (assuming they've never met one before) he instantly pulls an uno reverse card and just runs off with her, without so much as telling his brother beforehand.

I'm not trying to say that "Belos should've been redeemed, because he's the victim here and Caleb is bad and it's all his fault". he still murdered his brother and went on to manipulate everyone on Boiling Isles for centuries, with his end goal being the death of all witches, while simultaneously being stuck in the loop of "denial" and "bargaining" stages of grief – repeatedly trying and failing to recreate a perfect copy of Caleb, but also killing each one that came out wrong or went against him. Belos not being redeemed in the end was the right choice (ignoring the "Belos was always le bad" from King's dad), I agree with that. frankly, if he actually got redeemed in the end, I'd probably be seething for the next 3 to 5 years, like how I did after the Diamonds' "redemptions" in SU (yes I'm still pissed about that lol). I'm just saying that, from what was shown to us, Caleb didn't seem like that good of a person either, not as bad as Belos ended up being, but still not that great. and, once again, seemingly had a raisin for a brain.

(off topic, but during Masha's retelling of Wittebane's backstory, their "sounds like big bro got a hot witch girlfriend and little bro got upset" line was so fucking cringe, it gave me a fever for 3 days the first time I watched the episode)

k, rant over, I dunno what else to add

TL;DR: I think Caleb was dumb as a brick, because, from what was shown to us in their backstory, he seemed to have run off to Demon Realm and abandon Philip without telling him anything beforehand. when Philip came to BI to look for his brother, who he assumed was under control of the witch who "took" him, since he thought his last living family member wouldn't just abandon him, and when he eventually found him, and it turned out he wasn't in any danger at all, Caleb just brushed the whole "I left you for witchussy" thing under the rug and pretended everything was and is perfectly fine, even though it clearly isn't. rip bozo

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Prologue

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

Welcome welcome!

There is a method to my madness with the beginning half of this post on every chapter and the tea pics. I try my very best to make sure to minimize spoilers so the real content will be below this.

What I know (or don't) going into this series

Don't correct me, it's more fun if this all turns out to be wrong:

it is a love story across lifetimes

one of them wears disguises?

heavenly realms

it is painful AF

I am expecting many deaths to be honest

That's literally all I know, I didn't even really read the back cover until after I read the prologue (below) I am going in so blind.

With this all in mind; Let's gooooooooooooooooooooo:

Okay starting off strong with "the laughingstock of the Three Realms" p11

Oh god, "how to describe the prince...'unique'" p11

This man sounds so sweet "I want to help the common people" p11 but also him over here rescuing babies falling off the walls p13

Oh, I can see how the rich bitches with power would see this as problematic. The audacity of them trying to punish him for doing good. pp13-14

omg this guy, just casually meeting the Heavenly Emperor p16

this is a side note, I will say, though I have 0 experience reading actual heavenly realm lore, I feel well prepared for this due to the sheer amount of MXTX fanfics I have read that are probably crossovers with TGCF but I just didn't even know.

Good for him for ascending! Though if this is one of the protagonists of the story, I am worried for how naïve he seems p16

Well, the Rich Bitches were not wrong to fear the inauspicious start to the ceremony pre-ascension. 3 years later and ofc they are invaded AND the prince is not even there due to his ascension. p17

Poor buddy. I already know this series is going to hurt. He just wanted to help but made everything so much worse by getting involved in human things. p18

"to speak harshly, was he not just useless trash who could not do anything right?!?!" p18

What a tough blow. From god of protection and peace to God of misfortune. p19

AND banishment

Not the double ascension AND immediate banishment. p20 But i do want to know how he lasted like 30 minutes the second ascension. I'm just picturing him up there throwing hands for a hot second before being shunted back to earth double birds flying.

I also love that he's like a little weird. just a queer little man putting on street shows and acting odd as hell.

ooof. Bro. not only was he The Laughingstock for a minute, he also wasn't even memorable enough for people to recall him after a while. This story is going to ruin my life I know it. I already want to adopt this immortal man and wrap him in soft things. p21

A THIRD ASCENSION??????? p22

The canon has been FIRED

The way in which this story already started at 100. Blasted into the universe with this prologue, we had a weird little guy, he ascended descended too many times to be okay, and now we are shunted into chapter 1.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling someone that roleplays are a two-way street and refusing to re-engage with them?

Occasionally, if I'm in the mood to write but I don't really know what, I'll browse ship tags on Omegle. Its become synonymous for roleplays, and I've found its (typically) pretty fun.

As with every social thing, there's the odd... Less than pleasant experience. Last night was one such experience. I connected to someone on a ship tag, they sent a prompt, and it was actually a pretty interesting one, so I responded.

It was an AU prompt, but I generally kept my characterisation as close to the character's canon as I could, while still matching it to roughly what someone's personality in that profession and location would be.

(E.g; if the character was a proper old-country style cowboy, or a socially awkward secretary, ect.)

It became very clear, very fast, that the other person had very, very specific ideas about the roleplay, what happens, what my character was supposed to say/do, ect. To the point where (as I later told them) they should've just written fanfic so they had complete control.

Near enough every time I responded, they'd "correct" it or argue against it both in character and in brackets as themselves. For example if I noted something about the background or story of my character, theirs would immediately say "no that's not what happened" or they'd say [hey actually can you change that, it doesn't fit/I don't like it/its not what I envisioned].

After about fifteen minutes of this I got incredibly vexed and decided I was done. I don't mind a roleplay having certain goals/main points/guidelines, but they were literally trying to control every tiny aspect of what I did. So I sent them this:

[I'm sorry, the RP sounded interesting in the prompt you sent, but its rapidly becoming clear you don't actually want a roleplay, you want to be the sole one dictating everything that happens. Honestly I think its best you turn this idea into a fanfic and not a roleplay. It kills off any enjoyment of the roleplay when I have you contradicting every tiny detail I include or dictating what I'm allowed to do or say. I'm not going to sit there waiting for you to approve of everything I intend to say. Thank you for your time, but good night.]

I disconnected, and decided I'd spend another fifteen minutes browsing the tag before I did something else. Well apparently, the other person decided they were going to spend fifteen minutes stalking the tag trying to find me again, spamming every connection with messages ranging from extreme insults and threats to demands I 'speak up again, bitch, I wanna talk' and so forth. After connecting to them for the tenth time, I sent:

[I'm not going to re-engage with you. I said what I did, and frankly, it was a valid statement. If you can't handle the fact that roleplaying means a 50/50 creative allowance with someone else, and that you can't micro-manage or bulldoze every single detail, then you shouldn't roleplay. Frankly, knowing how vile you can be from simple criticism, I'm glad I disconnected. Take a breather and re-evaluate yourself. I'd be embarrassed.]

Well. This morning I logged onto Tumblr and after some browsing, I actually came across them again. Here. By means of a post where they included screenshots of everything and are even going so far as threatening to stalk Tumblr and AO3 to 'match up the writing' so they can find me and presumably say their piece or whatever.

I talked to a friend about it, and surprisingly, they think I'm an asshole. Not for what I said in the first place, but for not re-approaching the other person (through DMs) so they'll stop filling the ship's tag with negative stuff. (They've made 3 posts about it all so far.)

I don't want to do that because it means opening up my private social media to this obviously unhinged individual. I know I can expect to be spammed, sent hate mail, have them try to track down my other socials, ect. I could make an alt account for it, but honestly that's effort I don't see the point in making. If they can't let this go, its not my problem.

AITA? Should I make an alt account just to let them get it out of their system? I don't know how to proceed with this.

What are these acronyms?