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runningfrom2am · 8 months ago

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cold nights // part twenty-seven

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: omg we're coming up on the end i could cry :') i finished writing everything and i feel like a shell of a person rn without this fic to plan and write, but i hope you guys are excited! there will be five more parts after this and then the epilogue, which brings me to some really exciting news!!

big news #1: i'm opening oneshot requests for this series!! my normal requests will remain closed but i'd love to see what you guys want for the more of this series! (link is here!)

big news #2: the end of this story is opening the doors to my third coryo series which I've been working on for a hot minute, and it'll be called requiem! (see the original request for it here to get the vibes before i post anything!)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

The protests caught you off guard, more than anything.

It had only been two weeks since you started your classes and you were loving them, but you hated getting dropped off in the morning and picked up in the afternoon. You and Coryo could no longer eat lunch outside, and the previously full lecture halls you had occupied saw more and more students dropping out as people stood outside just to shout at you as you came and went from the school four days a week. To call you an animal, that you don't belong there, that you should be "put down" for crimes against the Capitol. What they were? You had no idea.

Suffice to say, parents were not happy that you were there.

Generally, Coryo said that people had loved you in the games. You were "harmless", and "sweet", you gave them someone to root for- but now that you were walking freely among them instead of being kept behind the bars at the zoo or trapped inside the arena awaiting your death, you were suddenly a threat.

"They... they think I'll hurt someone?" You sniff, watery eyes overflowing as you look at Coryo lying beside you in his bed.

He bites his tongue, nodding as he wipes away your tears with the hand he has resting just under your cheek on top of his pillow. "They're afraid. That's all, it's not because of anything you did."

"I won't." You cry. "I would never, you know that, right?"

"I know, love. I know that." He promises you quietly.

"I don't want people to be afraid of me. It's not fair to them... If they feel unsafe I should just drop out."

"You're not doing that." He insists with a slight shake of his head. "We'll figure it out. Okay? Don't worry about them."

You just nod softly, wiping your eyes as he pushes his arm under your neck. "C'mere." He mumbles rolling onto his back and you move closer, laying your head on his chest as he pulls you closer to his side.

Coryo did figure it out, for the most part, which is how you ended up standing in Capitol TV's studios, awaiting an interview with Lucky Flickerman, someone you definitely thought you would never see again after the games. You didn't know how Coryo did it, who he had to talk to in order to convince them to let you plead your case so publicly. Apparently, the Snow name came with more power than you knew.

"You're gonna do great, love." Coryo whispers to you. "Just be yourself, but remember what I said about your essay, right? Be honest, but think about how you word things. I know you can do it." He assures you quietly, hands resting on your shoulders.

You nod, giving him a hopeful smile. "Thank you."

"I'll be right here, I'm not going anywhere." These types of reassurances were becoming less and less necessary over the month you've been here, but still, you don't like it when he's far, and he doesn't like it when he doesn't know where you are. It worked nicely for you both.

"Miss Y/L/N, whenever you're ready." One of the crew directs you, pointing to the comfortable chair they had set up in front of a homey-looking backdrop. It was fake, but it was meant to look like you were in someone's house. The idea of it was confusing to you, but you supposed it was also unimportant. You had much bigger concerns.

"Thank you." You smile at them and give Coryo another quick nod before making your way over to the seat that they said was yours.

Coryo watches as you carefully brush your hands over the front of your dress, smoothing it as you sit down. You looked so elegant as you did it, if he didn't know better, it looked like the habits of the people you were now surrounded with were rubbing off on you quickly. He had watched you rehearse how you would carry yourself and how you would speak and act with Tigris just this morning, after she fit you into the dress she had made for the occasion. Clearly, you had been paying attention.

When you draw your hair from your back and over your shoulder so your meticulously styled curls wouldn't be crushed against the chair, Coryo thinks he might need to sit down. Especially so when you look back at him again, subtly waving at him with your hand from where they are placed in your lap. The dress Tigris had given to you was red- a deep red silky material that complimented the red of his coat and mimicked the shade of the Capitol's flag but still had you standing out on your own. Seeing the way that dress fit you and hugged your form in all the right ways even as you were sitting, he was sure he had never been more grateful to his cousin and her talents.

"Y/N, it's so good to see you again." Lucky smiles at you as he sits down across from you, adjusting the small device attached to his lapel as crew members come up to you and fasten the same thing to the front and back of your dress.

"You as well." You grin, trying the best you can to mask your nervousness.

"Are you ready? Do you need anything?" He asks and you shake your head.

"I am ready whenever you are." You confirm, looking around as some more lights flick on, bright in your eyes as the man behind the camera starts counting down.

You look over at Coryo one last time and he nods at you. It was just like your first interview all over again- you had to sell yourself to the people. To prove that you were worth trusting.

"My name is Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman," You smile as he flips a coin up into the air. You've seen him do it before, but you still weren't sure how the trick worked. "Amateur magician and your host for everything interesting on Capitol TV, and today is certainly no exception. Today, I have a familiar face with me who I know you will all recognize as well, the Victor of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games, Miss Y/N Y/L/N." He looks over at you and you keep your eyes on him, certain that all cameras are watching you now.

"Y/N, I am so happy to have you back. How have you been?" Lucky asks you and you're already fighting off the need to fidget with your hands.

"I am very well." You smile at him. "How about yourself? It has been a while."

"I'm great, thank you! You know, I was not allowed to bet on the games, but anyone who was there can tell you that I predicted your win from the beginning. You certainly are something else."

"Oh, well thank you." You giggle. "Though, I can't fully be credited for my win. I have to thank the sponsors who allowed Coriolanus to send me food and water. That made all the difference in my game."

"Oh, most definitely." He agrees. "But you shouldn't deny your own role in that. Hiding in the vents, that was genius!" Lucky claps. "Truly, that was a jaw-dropping moment for all of us watching. I remember thinking 'wow, how did she think of that?' It was incredible!"

"Yes, well, I saw the grate and knew it was worth a try." You shrug, slightly laughing. "I had nothing to lose."

"Yes, well, I'm dying to know- what have you been up to the last few months? You went back to Twelve, and then what?"

"Oh! Yes, I did. I've been spending time with friends and family, I got a job at the local library, catching up on some reading, that sort of thing." You grin, glancing at Coryo for only a moment and he gestures for you to continue. "I got home and I really realized for the first time how much we should be appreciating everything we have- even out in the Districts where sometimes life is tough, it's key to remember how privileged we are to be alive. The games were truly eye-opening for me."

Coryo gives you a quick nod of approval, and you smile, training your view back on the man across from you.

"Yes, I agree. Live life to the fullest, that's what they say." You just nod at his response. "Which also begs the question, if you were happy back in Twelve, what brought you back to the Capitol?"

Let the lies begin.

"Well," You laugh nervously. "When I was given the opportunity to come here for the games back in July, I was so interested in everything. The people who I got to talk to, the things I got to see, it was all amazing and I was just dying for more."

"So you decided to come study at the university here, is what I've heard."

"Yes, exactly." You grin. "I just think that the Capitol has so much to offer as far as education goes, I am already learning so much and I am having so much fun doing it."

"So really, your focus is just on your education." He prompts you and you nod.

"Definitely, considering the course load I don't have time for much else, but that doesn't really bother me. Like I said, I just want to learn from the greatest minds in the nation. Even the other students, it's amazing! Everyone has earned their spot there and I can see why and all the work they have put in to be there. It's a privilege to study among them, and I am so grateful that I was given this chance."

"You say 'all the work that they put in to be there', but you didn't attend the academy, so how is it that you were admitted?"

"I filled out the same application that all the other students did, I went through all the same testing." You confirm, nodding at him. "Although," You laugh slightly. "I was only given one day to complete it all. I was locked away in my room working on it all night. I hardly had time to blink, it was tough."

"Wow!" Lucky laughs. "One day? I remember when I applied to the university, my application took months to get just right. You must have aced it all."

"I am very proud of the work I did to be admitted, yes." You smile.

"From what I hear, you should be." He agrees. "So, you're really not in it for the sake of making friends."

"Well, I certainly would love to, but it is not my priority." You nod. "But, if any of my classmates are watching, I promise I am good at proofreading and if you need a second set of eyes on your papers, I'm happy to help. I'd also love to have more people to discuss our readings with." You joke, looking into the camera for the first time.

Lucky laughs. "You've heard it here, everyone. Y/N's pitch to make some friends!"

"Yes, I suppose it was." You chuckle, smiling at him.

"Now on the topic of friends while we're getting to know you better," You tilt your head at him while he begins the question, unsure where it is going. "Back home, do you have a boyfriend? Surely he must be missing you."

"No, not at home..." You laugh, catching in the corner of your eye as Coryo shakes his head at you, his face flat of emotion. "I don't have a boyfriend. Again, that's really just not where my priorities lie at the moment. I've... I've had a very busy year, you could say." You explain hesitantly.

"Wow! A beautiful girl like you?" You laugh nervously at his response. "Capitol boys! She's smart, pretty, and single. Just saying." He says, raising his hands.

You knew his job today was to help you, to make you more likable and more normal, to humanize you, but it was still uncomfortable to hear. "Oh, please." You laugh nervously, waving a hand at him. "Like I said, I'm just here to learn. I'm not after anyone's son."

"No? Not even all the handsome boys in your classes? I'm sure there are at least a few." He teases you and your cheeks flush red.

"I wouldn't know, I'm watching the lectures." You shrug jokingly.

Coryo is trying not to lose his mind while you talk about how single you are. Not that you were much of a willing participant, and to be fair he did tell you not to indicate to them that the two of you were together. You technically weren't, if he was being totally fair, but just because it hadn't been said doesn't mean it isn't real. He knew you knew that, though. So why was he getting so mad?

He doesn't even realize how little attention he was paying after that until you're standing up and shaking Lucky's hand. It was over, you'd done everything you could have to ease the minds of scared and angry Capitol parents.

Lucky gives you a quick hug, wishing you good luck in your classes before you're allowed to rejoin Coryo. "Ready to go?" He asks and you nod.

"How did I do?" You ask as you walk out of the studio and into the hall, aiming for the elevator to take you back to ground level.

"Amazing, love. You were perfect." Coryo confirms, still noticeably tense as he walks next to you.

"Are you sure?" You ask as he presses the button to call the car up to your level, unsure since he still hasn't really looked at you.

The door opens and you both step in. "Yes." He tells you again, quickly tapping the door close button.

"Oh, good. I was really nervous..." You laugh slightly as the doors slide shut, and as soon as any light from the hall ceases to enter the elevator his hands are on you and his lips are pressed against yours.

You let out the slightest squeak out of shock, but quickly relax as Coryo rubs familiar small circles on your hips with his thumbs. How he could be so gentle as he backs you into the wall of the elevator you don't know, but you're grateful for it as you hum into his mouth. But still, something was different.

Spending so much time with you only made him want you more. He loved you, he knew that, and someplace deep in the corners of his mind, he had always wanted you in a way he never thought possible when he first fell for you before the games. Now, with you curled up under his sheets almost every night, seeing you step out of the bathroom with damp hair after a shower in pyjamas that don't fit you quite right, he thought about it more than ever. Thoughts of you plagued him more than usual, and the best way to describe the accompanying feeling was guilt. Guilt that he couldn't show you off given the circumstances- at least not yet.

He trails his kisses away from your lips and across your jaw, pulling you tighter against him. "You're so beautiful, my love..." He mumbles into the skin just below your ear, leaving a kiss in his wake that has your head spinning.

You giggle, eyes fluttering open. "What has gotten into you?" You ask, hands sliding up over his chest to rest on his shoulders.

"I can't tell my girlfriend that I think she's gorgeous?" He asks, shaking his head slightly as he looks down into your eyes.

"Oh, so I am your girlfriend." You giggle and he nods, kissing you again.

"Of course you are, and don't forget it." He chuckles, pulling back from you as the elevator stops moving, waiting for the doors to open.

Your skin is flushed down to your chest as the doors slide apart and even though he's not touching you anymore, you can feel the ghost of his hands on you. You look up at him, a lingering smirk still on his face as he looks straight ahead and leads you out of the car.

The phone rang at the time you were eating dinner, and you quickly asked if you could be excused to go answer it. Coryo and Tigris both just nodded at you, but you could still feel their grandmother's eyes burning into your back as you quickly walked away. She still wasn't fond of you, but she tolerated you. For now, that was just enough.

You grab the phone off the receiver as the small round screen flickers to life. "Hello?" You answer, hopeful that it would finally be your family you see on the other side.

You had answered every call that came to the Snow's apartment for weeks, waiting anxiously to hear their voices again.

"Y/N, is that you, honey?"

You gasp with excitement when you get a clear enough view of your ma. "Ma! Hi!" You smile, leaning in a little closer to get a more clear view as the camera on their end begins to adjust. This was likely the first time it was being used.

"Oh, honey, how good it is to see you!" She smiles, and out of nowhere, you feel hot tears welling up in your eyes.

"You too, Ma." You nod, biting into your lower lip. You didn't want to cry so quickly into the call. "How are you? How's everything at home?"

"Same old." She shakes her head with a slight laugh. "I'm much more interested in you- how is everything? How is school? And how is Tybalt settling in? How are you settling in? My goodness, I just have so many questions!"

You laugh, quickly wiping a stray tear. You had told them about all of this in letters, of course, but she just wanted to hear you say it all. "Everything is good. School has been so lovely, Coryo walks me to all my classes and we eat lunch together between. And Tybalt just loves it here! They have a garden on the roof, and I take him up there as often as I can. Tigris won't stop giving him treats either so he couldn't be happier."

You look down at the animal as he brushes against your leg, looking up at you.

"That's amazing. I've been so worried, it's just so good to see your face again. God, we've been missin' you..."

"I miss you too." You agree, careful not to choke on your tears. "How is Len? And have you seen Lucy Gray and the Covey?"

"He's... He's doing alright." Your mother looks off-screen, and you assume he must be there. The look on her face, one of nervousness and hesitation tells you he doesn't want to speak to you. "But Lucy Gray has been around every day, she and Maude Ivory come over and they help me with hanging the laundry and such... It's been good to have them around."

You smile sadly, nodding slightly with the receiver pressed to your ear. You felt bad about that aspect of leaving- you spent as much time as you could before the games helping out around the house, but even in the summer when you came back you weren't much help. Your mother wouldn't let you do dishes all summer, for fear that the sight of a knife might set you off. She knew you came back a different person, and she wasn't taking any risks. All she really allowed you to do was hang laundry and "keep her company" while she did other home chores. But now, she didn't even have that.

"Can I speak to him?" You ask, referring to your brother who you knew was there.

She nods, waving off camera and holding her hand over the wrong part of the phone. "Lennox, come over here. Y/N wants to talk to you."

His response is muffled, but you make out the gist of it. 'I don't want to talk to her'.

"She's your sister, Lennox. You can't ignore her forever."

'If she wants to talk, she should come home.'

Your heart clenches in your chest and you chew your lip. You have to pretend you couldn't hear, but you just felt so horribly guilty. You shouldn't have left, but he doesn't understand you had no choice. He wouldn't be able to understand until you could come home and see him again, likely not until the summer. Coryo had told you to be mindful of what you write in letters and what you say on the phone, it's possible others were listening. The Capitol was always listening.

"He's just a little busy right now, honey." She smiles at you, but you can see right through it. "But tell me about your day! Did you have class?"

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie, @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses, @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

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cripplecharacters · 5 months ago

Note

Hi there! I'm working on a modern supernatural story, and I've got a side character (the main character's best friend) who deals with chronic fatigue syndrome. He's a sweet, goofy, confident guy, and he has friends who are happy to change plans to accommodate him when he has flare-ups. They'll also help him out with chores or errands when he needs, with his consent. Naturally he gets bummed about his condition from time to time, but he's accepted that it's how he lives and with the help of therapy he's found ways to manage it. He also has plenty of hobbies and interests and grievances outside of his condition.

My question is this: I have a side-plot where the characters learn that a vampire has been feeding off him for weeks without his knowing, most likely using some kind of hypnotism. I'm wondering if the effects of consistent blood loss - fatigue, headaches, dizziness, etc - could reasonably be chalked up to a particularly bad CFS flare-up. Or would that be something where it's more likely he would notice the difference in severity of his symptoms and realize something else was wrong? Assuming the vampire can heal up any bite marks he leaves.

For the sake of clarity, he's had CFS most of his life and I'm taking care to avoid implying that it has anything to do with the vampire attacks. I'm just wondering if his symptoms would help hide the feedings or not.

Thank you!

The short answer: absolutely yes, this seems like it could be chalked up to a bad flare-up.

The long answer: I'm going to use the CDC's description of CFS/ME to lay out pretty exactly why it would work for both you and anyone wondering why exactly it would work.

A list of symptoms from the CDC has 3 core and 2 that you only need 1 out of 2 symptoms to have CFS.

Core: Lowered ability to do usual activities due to fatigue [that is not relieved by sleep/rest] that wouldn't have been an issue before illness

Core: Post-exertional malaise (PEM), which is a worsening of symptoms after physical or mental activity that wouldn't have been an issue before illness. Often described as a 'crash' and can include feeling dizzy, having difficulty thinking, headaches, or feeling ill. It can take days, months, or longer to recover from a crash and it's hard to predict how long a crash will last or what will cause it.

Core: Sleeping problesms; even a full night's sleep doesn't help symptoms much and might not help at all. Might have trouble falling or staying asleep.

Other: Problems with thinking and memory, like 'brain fog' or slowed thinking or trouble remembering things or paying attention.

Other: Orthostatic intolerance, meaning that symptoms can get worse while standing up. This can make people feel lightheaded, dizzy, weak or even faint.

I've bolded the symptoms on the list that match your stated symptoms of vampiric blood loss: "fatigue, headaches, dizziness, etc." and as you can see they match up pretty exactly!

Your character could perhaps do something that required a decent amount of mental or physical extertion, and perhaps it did or didn't cause a crash but at around the same time the vampire could have started to feed off of him. This might seem to prolong the 'crash' and your character might not think twice about it, just realize that they're feeling pretty miserable in a way not unknown to them.

I hope this helped!

PS, I really enjoy modern supernatural stories, and if you ever feel like sharing it I'd love to read this.

— Mod Sparrow

#chronic illness representation #chronic fatigue representation #mod sparrow #fantasy setting #anonymous

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carcarcraziiv2 · 11 months ago

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The Woman with the Pink Hair (P. 1, 2, 3)

Hello my friends! I bring to you The Woman with the Pink Hair! This is a Vi x Fem! Reader fanfiction.

I will post this gradually, maybe once or twice a week until it is fully out! (If you are impatient, you can view it on my Wattpad-> @DatBishCar)

Please note that this is the first piece I wrote after a HEFTY (I mean years long) hiatus from writing.

P.S. Lowkey I KNOW there's a bunch of shit I could fix in here to make it better due to my practice over the past year or so, but I just... I'm so lazy rn LOL. Anyhoooooo....

ALSO- here are the TW for you lovelies! (This is for the WHOLE SERIES)-

Violence, mental illness, oral sex, dominant tendencies, torture, kidnapping, plotting?... lowkey there's probably more but you should get the gist here, AS ALWAYS ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK ILY<3

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PART ONE: INTRODUCTIONS-

Staring at the wall. You often found yourself staring at the wall while you were bored, zoning out thinking about things. How lonely your life had gotten, while at the same time it is better than it has been in a while. You had your freedoms to go do what you wanted - walk, paint, draw, listen to music. As you did those things you constantly seeked inspiration from the little bits and pieces that showed themselves to you in every crack and crevice.

You enjoyed finding the positives in things that didn't always seem positive. Hell, you were living in an old shack you rented from a grungy man who you weren't sure even actually owned the place. He did, however, have the keys.

Deciding you needed some fresh air, as fresh as it can be in the undercity, you gather yourself to head out for a stroll through the dark streets and into the markets and shops. You enjoyed people watching, perhaps you would run into someone interesting. You grabbed your jacket, a purple and black lots of pockets kind of deal, and your beanie and put them on. Your medium length hair was in a bun on the lower part of your head, and you had pieces of hair flowing down in front of your face on either side. You liked the wispy look of it.

You quickly found yourself in the center of the town after a few turns and blocks that you had memorized by heart. The place was always semi crowded. People doing grungy things, illegal things - but in your eyes, you saw beauty. You saw people smiling, laughing with their friends. Even as there were people who looked at you with an evil glint in their eye as you walked past, you were not afraid. You knew this place like the back of your hand, you grew up here after all.

After reaching one of your favorite places to eat, you walked to the counter and ordered some soup. Honestly, there was no telling what ingredients were in it but you trusted the chef as they always made delicious things. A few minutes pass, and you grabbed your brown, watery looking stew and headed over to a table nearby. There was no one sitting there, and the furniture was mostly clean unlike some of the surrounding options which were covered in trash, dirt and spilled food. As you sat, you looked over to the large red headed woman who cooked and served the food.

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome, honey," she replied with a warm smile. She was kind of like family to you, since you didn't really have any of your own. In fact, a lot of the shopkeepers and people who constanted the area were as such. You rarely saw people you didn't know or hadn't at least met once.

The soup was warm, salty, and amazing as usual. You finished every last bite and took the common decency to return the silverware and bowl to the counter, rather than having them come grab it from the table. You liked helping them out whenever you could, as they would do the same for you. Turning around, you looked about. Still seeking inspiration, you were torn as to whether or not to just go home. You did have to work in the morning but were unsure as to how much you actually cared about getting rest beforehand. Scanning your surroundings from right to left, you looked at all the people, until you saw someone unfamiliar leaning against a wall, hood down, with bits of pink hair peeking out from beneath it.

You were intrigued.

Gazing at the person standing there, your creative curiosity and interest peaked. You wanted to know what they looked like, and luckily right as the thought crossed your mind someone approached the woman, and she took her hood down.

She looked tired, worn, beaten and bruised. Your heart hurt thinking about anyone going through the things that would result in looking such a way. Behind all of that surface area, you saw beautiful features, however, and felt your heart race a little bit as the woman scanned the area while chatting. You were nervous she would catch you staring, so you pretended to look down quickly.

The woman was becoming more agitated speaking with the person in front of her, and suddenly pushed them away. She started walking quickly away from you.

Oh no... you thought. You did not want to lose this person, as creepy as that sounds. You decided to follow them only for a few minutes. Sometimes strangers led you to streets and places you would have never gone to yourself. You weren't only following her to be creepy.

You jumped up and started walking in the same direction as the woman. She was fast, so you had to speed walk a little bit. You took a few turns and short stops, all at places you had been before and studied before. Although you were interested in her, you decided that you would turn around and head home.

Right before you turned heel, the woman turned down a narrow dark alleyway. Ok... you thought. Now what is she doing? You waited a few moments before turning, too. You didn't want her to see you and recognize you. She looked like she might get a little angry about that.

Very quickly, you realized you had made a mistake. Three large men appeared from the shadows in front of the woman. And she stopped, looked up to the sky, and sighed loudly. You took the opportunity to hide behind a stack of boxes that were next to a dumpster on the left side of the alleyway. You peeked out from behind them and watched the confrontation ensue.

"What do you need, boys?" The woman said, stepping over to lean on the wall next to her, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"We saw a pretty girl like you, and decided we needed to have you. What'ya say, sweets?" One man said. His voice was gravely, low, and you swore you could smell him from where you were. The other two men were sneering behind him, adjusting their waste bands.

The woman laughed. And she laughed loudly. Your eyes widened at the sound, it was like a sweet music, even in this scenario.

"You don't know what you're about to do, dirtbag," the woman said while laughing. The man's expression quickly changed to one of anger, and he started approaching her. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you," She warned. The man laughed slightly and kept approaching, to which the woman responded-

"Idiot".

---- Vi's POV ----

Vi sneered at the man coming at her. She had a rush of adrenaline from the argument she had with the junky at the markets earlier already and needed to get rid of the urges she had to punch something. She decided these guys would do the trick.

As the man approached, Vi took the cigarette out of her mouth and flicked it at him. He jerked back. Really? Afraid to get burned? That should be the least of your worries. As he jerked back, she grabbed him by the front of his coat and head butted him, wasting no time while he was in shock to bring her right fist up and slam it into his face.

"By the way, the name is Vi."

The other two men started to approach her, and she gave them a look that said "really?". They came to her from opposite sides, and she easily grabbed both of their backs, took a step backward and slammed their heads into each other. The men both collapsed to the ground rubbing their heads and yelling at one another.

The first man was starting to get up off the ground, but this time he looked afraid. Vi gave him a look that made him tremble and told him "Get the fuck out of here. You and these two dumbasses. I don't want to see you causing trouble to anyone again. Got it?" They hesitated, "I said get the FUCK out of here!" She yelled this time. The men got up and ran away like little children. Pathetic.

Vi turned around and saw someone staring at her from behind a dumpster. It was that girl from the market, the one that caught her eye. She had noticed her following her but didn't think she still was at this point. Vi grew angry, her adrenaline still running high through her veins.

---- Your POV ----

As the fight finished up, you were holey prepared to turn tail and book it out of here. You decided you were following someone really dangerous and became scared. That is right about the moment when the woman turned around and looked right at you, rage in her eyes.

You stumbled backwards, turning and trying to run away. "Fuck" you muttered as you slipped immediately after trying to start running. You looked backward for a brief moment as you stood, and realized she was right behind you. The woman shoved you roughly into the wall behind you. Her hand on your neck.

"WHO are you? WHY are you following me? WHO are you working for?" The woman yelled in your face. Although you were afraid, short of breath and absolutely dreading what was to come you were enamored by her beauty. "Hello?!" She broke you out of your trance, "I asked you a question!"

"N- n- no one! I'm not working for anyone" you stammered, your voice weak from the vice like grip she had on your neck.

"Liar," she said calmly, her grip tightening ever so slightly on your neck. You felt pressure in your cheeks and above your eyes, and you became truly afraid that you may die.

"I- I'm no- not lying," you struggled to say. "I just tho- thought you looked go- good so I followed you to get inspi- inspiration for my art."

Her grip loosened ever so slightly. You sensed she could tell you were afraid. Maybe she could tell you were not lying, but you were unsure. You really couldn't trust strangers down here. She shoved her finger in your face, and bit her teeth together. Through this, she said -

"Don't fucking follow me again. That is creepy as hell." She released you and you fell to the ground, rubbing your neck.

"I- I won't!" you promised, looking up. But realization quickly hit that she was already gone, as you saw her walking the rest of the alleyway past where she beat those men, with her hood up and hands in her pockets.

You took the opportunity, got up, and ran your ass all the way home. You heart was beating very quickly, and you were still terrified. Hyper aware of everything around you. The wind making the tendrils of your hair fly next to your face as you ran.

Finally, you got home and got inside, collapsing on the ground from exhaustion.

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PART TWO: Ubiquity

The next few weeks, you continued on with your life. Going on walks, working, eating, and drawing. Drawing someone who you could not get out of your head. The woman with the pink hair. After your encounter, you swore you saw her everywhere. Places you had never seen her before.

One day, she was at the market getting food from your favorite place. She looked like she liked the woman who had previously given you your soup. She was smiling, and you noticed her put down a gracious tip onto the counter before collecting her food. You stayed very far back before cowering and going back home.

Another day, she came into your work. You didn't think she was looking for anything in particular, she was just browsing, probably bored. You watched from the back-room door as she fumbled with some of the little figurines you had placed out and watched her put them back down as if they were so fragile, she might break them by breathing on them.

On this particular day, you headed to work. You were tired and worn out from the last weeks' worth of work already but still had today before you finally got a day off. You worked in a small nick-nack shop that a lot of people who created gadgets frequented. You decided to stop and grab some coffee at the warn down coffee stand out front of the shop you worked. The stand was musty, creaky, and downright shouldn't even exist anymore. But what are you to do when you are so limited to recourses as you are down here?

"Hi, can I have a coffee, something sweet?" You smiled at the barista. They did not smile back.

"2 dollars." They stated. They were tall, skinny and looked as if they were addicted to... something. You handed them the money and they gave you your coffee, immediately turning away to attend to the next customer. You started taking a sip, it was bitter, and you let out a hiss. Slowly turning to your left, you jumped and let out a little yelp.

It was the woman. She was standing beside you against the wall, staring at you as if she was pondering something. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she took a drag off her cigarette.

"You still following me?" She smirked. Your eyes widened and you felt your heart beating a thousand beats per minute. She was wearing the same getup. A red jacket that looked warn. Her tired look was no longer, but she did look wary and had a few scratches, including one on her lips.

Her beautiful pink lips.

"Hey, my eyes are up here," she snorted. You gasped.

"Oh, shit. Sorry... No, I am not following you. Trust me I don't want to get strangled again." You said way too quickly. A few people glanced over at the two of you, and you lowered your head. You could feel your cheeks becoming red.

"Then why are you everywhere I go? I have seen you at least 3 places besides the first time we encountered one another. Who are you?"

"Well like I said, I am not following you," you stated. You felt a little frustrated that it wasn't getting through her head. "And I don't appreciate you accusing me of such!"

She laughed. That same beautiful laugh she had right before she beat the shit out of three huge men.

"It wouldn't be the first time, weirdo. Now, I am not going to hurt you again. Trust me. I was in a fit of rage and... yeah. Just can you trust me on that?" She looked genuine. You felt yourself loosen up a bit. "What is your name? I'm Vi," she reached her hand out towards you.

"I'm (y/n). And I guess I can," you stated hesitantly. You reached your hand out and grasped hers. It was calloused and hard against your soft one.

"So, you're really an artist?" She asked, sitting down on a bench across the walkway. You followed, and sat next to her, looking at your wristwatch. You had about 30 minutes until you had to go in to work behind the coffee shop.

"Um... yes. It's a hobby," you said shyly. You brushed a loose piece of hair back behind your ear and looked over at her. "And you're a street fighter?" You said raising your eyebrow.

She laughed again. You couldn't help but smile too.

"Well, technically, I guess you could call it that. I really only fight when I have to, or if I am in the mood to do so. I am the kind of person who just goes with the flow, I guess. I have no real goal right now...". You noticed that she was becoming saddened, but not enough to fully show it through her tough face. She stretched her legs out and laid back against the back of the bench and looked up at the sky. You noticed a few features you hadn't previously. She had a tattoo on her cheek that read VI and a gear tattoo on the side of her neck. She had scars, a lot of them. You wondered where she got them but put the pieces together and assumed they were probably from fights.

"Do you fight a lot?" You blurted out, unsure if the question would offend, anger or sadden her. She looked at you dead in the eyes with her sky-blue ones, serious as can be.

"Yes."

She was so mysterious. You wondered about her life, her story. You wanted to know more about her but there was still and underlying fear and feeling of uneasiness around her simply because of how the two of you first interacted. You rubbed your neck as you remembered the happening.

"I am sorry for what I did to you before. It was out of line. I shouldn't have assumed you were some person who was hired to go after me." Vi reached up and put her hand on your shoulder for a split second. You felt yourself get warm all over and blushed.

"Um, I guess it's okay?" You shrugged. You weren't actually okay with it, but you didn't want it to be the reason why you two wouldn't talk again. You wanted to talk to her again, so you gathered yourself and in a brief confidence asked, "Do you want to hangout sometime? Like we can get coffee or food or something?"

She looked taken aback, and you immediately began trying to remedy the situation. You were embarrassed. "I- I'm sorry it's okay if you don't want to I totally under-"

"(y/n), Its okay. I would like that." She stopped you and stated. You smiled coyly and looked down at your coffee, then back up at her.

"Okay, cool. Meet me here tomorrow, same time?" You got up. "I have to go to work, actually. Like right there. I am a few minutes late..." You couldn't believe that 35 minutes had already passed by and knew the boss man was not going to be happy that you were late. You said your goodbyes and headed into the shop.

You were right, the man was not happy.

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PART THREE: Awkward Encounters

You and Vi had plans to meet the next day. On one hand you were giddy with excitement. On the other, you were nervous. Very nervous. You weren't entirely sure you could trust the temperament of this woman. As you laid in bed, you had thoughts of what the day ahead would look like. What kind of interest did Vi have with you? You were certain you had interest in her, but you didn't know what kind of interest it was. You imagined the two of you in different scenarios, such as friendship, or as lovers. Friendship seemed amazing, but lovers felt even better. You smiled at yourself and rolled over. Either way, you decided you were going to have a good time.

--THE NEXT DAY--

Waking up energized, you decided since it was your day off, you would try to do as much as possible. If Vi was up to it, perhaps she could tag along. You got up in the morning from your bed and comfortable plaid duvet to go shower. In the shower, you washed your hair as well as wash and shaved your body. The water was warm as it caressed your figure. You imagined it was Vi.

What am I thinking? You contemplated. You two had only just met and it was a strange encounter to say the least. You shook your head in dismay, blushing at the thoughts you were dismissing. You hopped out of the shower and grabbed one of the towels right outside the curtain. You always laid the towel on the toilet seat so it would be easier to get to. Stepping out of the shower, you stood in front of the mirror above the sink. You were a tidy person, but today it was a little bit messy in there.

Taking a small hand towel, you swiped the glass on the mirror so you could see your reflection. Although you looked tired, you still felt energetic. You were too giddy to feel tired. You decided today you were going to put on a little bit of makeup, just mascara and eyeshadow. Walking out of your bathroom and back into your room, the towel draped across your midriff, you looked in the closet to pick out an outfit.

Deciding on black jeans, a baggy brown knit sweater, and your warn old brown boots you tossed them on. The sweater was warm, which was perfect for this time of year in the Undercity. You got everything on, tossed on a few rings on your fingers, and headed to the door. beside the door was a coat rack, which you grabbed your oversized black leather jacket off of and threw on. You smiled as you walked outside and took a deep breath of air.

Your heart was racing, but this time it was from excitement. Never had you thought you would be so brave as to ask someone you had just met (who admittedly had almost killed you) to hangout. You rolled your eyes at yourself and dismissed the thoughts from coming back. You refused to let that ruin your day or come back up ever again.

You made your way down the street and your usual route to the coffee shop in front of your work. As you approached, you had hoped Vi would be there early, but she was nowhere to be seen. It was 5 minutes before your set meeting time, but you were not worried. You ordered yourself and Vi a coffee at the stand and sat at the bench you both had your first meaningful conversation at. Taking a sip, you looked around and took in the area, hoping to remember every last detail that you may not have already memorized.

You looked down at your watch and realized time had already passed. 10 minutes, actually. You were getting worried that she wouldn't show up. After another 5 minutes, you decided to get up and walk into the shop you were employed at. The shop keep looked confused why you were there, but you said-

"Don't worry, I am just visiting. I rarely get to come in here as a customer."

"Oh, okay." he smiled slightly. He seemed to be in a better mood, but then you bumped into a shelf beside you. You jerked yourself to the right to correct it and ensure nothing fell off. "Just don't break anything," he sighed, rolling his eyes. He was a big man, not fat but muscular. He seemed like he could handle himself in a bar fight if he had to.

"I promise I will not break anything," you laughed slightly. You turned your back to the man and back towards the window out front, and you saw her.

She was beautiful, sitting there on the bench on the same side she had last. Her fingers were tapping the back of it and she was looking around nervously. You decided to set down the figurine you had in your hand and rushed outside. You were relieved she actually came.

"Vi!" you smiled, rushing over to her. She smiled back and began to stand, when you felt someone run into you, knocking you to the ground. You were shaken, and looked up towards the direction the person was going. "S-Sorry!" you hollered to the person, but they kept going.

"Watch it, Asshole!" Vi yelled in their direction, coming over to you to help you get up. Luckily, you had already gotten rid of the coffees as they had gotten cold. You stood and brushed yourself off, thanking the world silently for the ground not being wet today. Sighing, you turned to Vi and embraced her in a hug.

"I am so glad you made it," you smiled, releasing her. She had not returned the embrace, but you were okay with that. Not everyone is a hugger and she appeared shocked.

"Oh, uh yeah. Sorry about that. I had some things I had to take care of," she muttered, appearing to blush and took her hand through her hair. As she did this, you couldn't help but watch the muscles in her arm flex, as she was only wearing a t-shirt. She cleared her throat, and your eyes darted back over to her face.

"So, um, are you hungry?" you quickly changed the subject. She nodded, and you started walking. She followed.

The two of you walked side by side for quite some ways and decided amongst yourselves to go to one of Vi's favorite places. You had never been there before, but you had walked by it many times. You were in awe at the fact that you had not ever seen Vi before. You walked inside the establishment with her. It was large and smelled of drink. You noticed a decrepit old bar towards the back, and wooden tables all around. There were a few people in there, but not many. Vi walked to the back and sat at the bar. Sighing, as she looked around.

"You know," she started, "My dad used to own this place. He died trying to protect my family." A pained expression crossed her face. You frowned.

"Oh, I am so sorry..." you weren't the best at comforting people and looked down at your hands. Luckily, Vi decided she wanted to change the subject and called the bartender over, ordering you both a drink. You didn't normally drink, but today you were willing to allow it. After all, you did decide you wanted to have fun.

After a few rounds, you both and really let loose a lot. You were laughing with each other and had gotten to know more about each other's lives and interests.

"...And then!" Vi laughed as she was finishing her story, "He fell on his ass into the puddle, right beside us!" You grimaced and laughed with her. She had just told you about a fight she had gotten into. It seemed to be a lot of the talking points she had, but you didn't mind. Actually, it impressed you how confident she was in herself.

In your tipsy state, you leaned forward, putting your hand on her thigh to keep your balance. She looked down at your hand, and back up at you.

"I am sorry for following you," you slurred. "I thought you were so beautiful... I wanted to see what you were about..." blushing, you turned away, but your hand still laid on her thigh. You felt a warmth over your hand and looked back over. Vi had placed hers there, on top of yours. Butterflies fluttered throughout your stomach.

"(Y/N), it's okay. Really." The two of you had gotten closer, without even realizing it. "To be honest, I saw you at the market before I even started walking. You were looking down at your hands, but I could tell you were pretty. I almost came over to you, but I chickened out."

Your eyes widened, and you blushed profusely. You leaned towards her slightly. You weren't even sure she was interested in women, but you didn't care. You were really really hoping she was. Suddenly, Vi removed her hand from on top of yours, and lightly placed it on the back of your neck. She looked you in the eyes, and you tilted your head ever so slightly looking back into hers. She leaned in, pulling you closer gently, and pressed her lips against yours. You leaned into the kiss and melted. Her lips felt like heaven against yours. They were soft, supple, and warm.

As she pulled away, you felt your hand absent-mindedly reach up and caress your mouth. You were blushing even harder than before and looked at her. She was smiling a huge face splitting smile. She looked proud.

"Wow," she stated.

"Wow," you repeated back.

"Bet ya weren't expecting that, were you?"

"No, but I liked it. Did... did you?" you asked nervously.

"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to." She giggled. You smiled and turned back towards the bar, twirling your finger around the straw in the glass. You wanted another, and so did she. You knew because soon there were two new drinks in front of you both.

You looked over at Vi. She was just finishing a sip of her drink and looked over at you as she set it down.

"Do you want to come to my house tomorrow and see some of my art? I already saw you fight, so I figured it would be fair if I showed you some of the things I have done," you asked sheepishly. She smiled, but this time it was sly. Like someone looking at something they wanted to eat, to devour.

"Absolutely."

The two of you finished your drinks. The day was nearly over, and you hadn't done any of the things that you had planned. You were okay with it. In fact, you wouldn't trade how this day went for anything. Before leaving the establishment, Vi offered to walk you home. You had a feeling she wanted to keep you safe, and you appreciated it even though were not afraid. This also made it easier for her to find your home the next day, so she could come look at your art.

You continued talking to one another as you walked back to your house. She had her hands in her pockets, and you had yours in your own. The streets were dark and there were hardly any people out, as most of the shops had closed.

Approaching the old shack of a house you called home, Vi let out a whistle and turned to you.

"Quite the place you got here, huh?" She grinned, teasing you.

"Hey, its home to me alright? Can only do so much down here." You reached up and lightly smacked her arm. Before you could lower your hand, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to her. So close, both of you were touching bodies. Vi was taller than you, and looked down at you slightly, as you looked up at her. She smiled and planted another kiss on you. This one more passionate, inviting. You could feel her warmth enveloping you as her arms held you.

Releasing from the kiss, you tried to stammer out a goodbye, but Vi had already started walking away.

"See you tomorrow, sweet stuff!" She said, waving as she walked backwards. She had a huge grin on her face.

"O-Okay! See you tomorrow!" You smiled back. You turned around and got inside, shut the door and leaned against it. You did a little happy dance in your spot.

Wow... you thought. That was amazing.

PLEASE LIKE AND COMMENT IF YOU ENJOY :D Drop a follow if you wanna stay updated on these! There are TEN more parts in the series! Oml...... lol <3 I hope you enjoyed so far!

#Vi Arcane x Reader #vi x fem reader #Arcane x Reader #Arcane Fanfic #League of Legends Fanfic #vi arcane #vi fanfic #vi x reader #vi league of legends

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midwestemoismid · 1 month ago

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Do you ever love a character so much you sorta steal your entire personality from them,,

Cuz like I'm obsessed with Nicole from class of '09, if sorta stolen my whole humor from her, Which isn't really a good thing because shes kinda a piece of shit, the game revolves around her being a horrible person or trying to kill herself or something like that, I'm not like as mentally ill as her, but my humor has evolved to be similar to Nicole and ive sorta had this not care attitude. I've also been really jokingly mean to one of my best friends (he knows its a joke, thats our humor) but I accidentally did that to my little brother and felt SO bad lmao,, (he said something very obviously and I loudly go "yeah no fucking shit bitch" then started apologizing profusely) This other time I was playing blooket w/ that same friend and I did something that made him eat a fake burger and I went really loud "have this fucking burger you fat ass bitch" and hje just stared at me like wtf,, and the other person on the call (who I just met) was SHOCKED.

i'm not a bad person,, hes okay with me making those jokes btw

well im sorta a bad person but i'm working on that

i sorta hate having obsessions over character because i want to BE THEM. and it sucks even more when theyre a horrible person--and when theyre a girl,, cuz like i want to de-transition and become a terrible person and chane my name to Nicole WHAT THE FUCK WHY I DONT KNOW and like i had an alt acc on tiktok where i used she/her and named myself nicole and it was like a class of 09 fanpage sorta. and like i dont wanna be a bad person nor do i wanna hurt people feelings or be addicted to drugs AT ALL but like NICOLE🙏🙏🙏

this always happens when i have some sort of obsession. i dont typically have favorites but when i do its like an obsession

and like one other problem with being obsessed with nicole is i accidentally obsess over mental illness and (stuff i shouldnt obsess over), wich is really bad and unhealthy.

I gain little obsessions over certain things, like right now im REALLY obsessed with a game called "bad parenting" and it's a really really sad game. I wont spoil it but its genuinelly depressing and made me cry. after i saw it i wanted to hug my dad and tell him i loved him for being a good dad. ive been listening to the backround song on repeat for a bit, i might even draw fanart of it idk,, but i feel like i shouldnt be hyper obsessed with it

as a kid i also was really obsessed with "salad fingers" wich had a sadish theme to it, i kinda forget the plot but i thought it was interesting and how the main charecter was kinda messed up.

I also really like "little miss fortune" wich was also really sad. again i dont remember the plot my childhood is sorta a blur and i dont remember it well

"Sally face" is another sad game i liked. not gonna spoilt it but i loved the supernatural bit and there was a lot of death.

I also really love horror movies, ESPECIALLY horror movies that go into psychology. Like for example, saw is pretty interesting because its cool to see if people would rather cut of an arm or die. I know it's fake but it's still really cool.

Theres a lot i find interesting but i dont wanna sound like im actually insane lol

This ran went in so many placed i forgot what the original post was about😭 took me abt 2 and 1/2 class period to wright

If you read this all, thanks! If you relate reblog or comment (or make a new post and tag me) and tell me what charecter you relate to/obsess over

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writingbyshiloh · 1 year ago

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Cautious Yet Optimistic and Graceful Part 3 (20/7 new ending)

PART 3 (edited with new ending)!!!! (part 1 and part 2)

CW: FEM!Reader, Morally gray Reader, JW universe, Beer, gambling, food, Killa appearance, kissing, soft(er) Vincent, mutual pinning, no beta, Possibly OOC Vincent, we never see him flirt in the film unless you count the stuff w Mr. Nobody, Suggestive content, confessions of feelings

Summary: The Marquis du Gramont invites you over for a thank-you dinner. You try to stay sane.

AN: Link to the poem here!!!! TBH I like the second translation of the poem more but that's just me. (the poem has 1 physical descriptor but I just ignored that). Added more to the ending which I think sums it up better! TY to those that chimed in on how to add the ending

You wouldn’t know what to expect when he handed you the letter, let alone the fact that you almost kissed him but ended up with a burn.

Holding your hand under running water you examine the letter more. The gold wax seal bears his coat of arms but the envelope is made of thick white paper, meaning you can’t see any words through the envelope. It’s flattering that he wrote your full name.

It’s a dinner invitation. He wants (maybe not anymore) to have you over to his home as a thank-you for your help the other night. You immediately RSVP yes to the number he included as if he's going to yank the offer out from under you. Knowing him, he might.

You don’t get to spend much time obsessing over the dinner, normal work challenges and fires that you have to put out, memorizing new names and faces to the scene, shipping some markers back to New York.

It's a relief when Killa calls you to tell you he's going to be in Paris for a few days. You spent a few years working under Killa, you feel that's where you gained some of your reputation.

Killa suggested the bar. It's a nice change of pace, to be in a bar where people can kill each other. It's a big fear of yours, that someone ignores the rules and decides to kill while on your property. Here, people almost expect it. The bar is dark and smokey, but drinks are relatively cheap. Plus your reputation exceeds you, meaning no one is trying to chat you up.

You rest your chin on your hand, and elbow on the sticky table. You see Killa at the bar, getting two more beers.

You jump at the warm hand on your shoulder, your body jerking around before stopping at the soft voice behind you.

“Mademoiselle.”

“Marquis de Gramont,” you reply. You haven’t seen him since the almost kiss, and you still had a few days before going to his mansion. You had started to mentally prepare for the dinner, but this caught you off guard. “This doesn’t seem like your usual company.”

He cranes his head to observe the crowd scattered out at tables and the bar. You follow his gaze and see a few of his guards behind you. You twist back to your original sitting position and find him looking at you.

“I’m excited about the dinner. Did you want me to bring anything?”

His eye catches Killa's frame, dressed in a purple suit at the bar, getting the new round of drinks.

“You're here with Killa.” He deduces. He's more observant than you always think.

“Yeah. He’s like a mentor to me.” You say affectionately.

“He was the one to suggest you for the manager job.” You can’t help but stare at Vincent, surprise on your face. “I know you think I did, but I thought you were ill-suited.”

You can't describe your emotions. Crushed that your crush said he didn't want you for the job you're in? Glad that Killa thinks so highly of you? You decide to tease him to cover up your wounded ego.

Nudging your shoe against his you ask “Is that why you invited me over? To tell me how bad I am at my job?”

“Cleary, I don’t hold the same position. Paris would not be the same without you.”

Your brain freezes for the third time. The gentle tone tells you that he probably means it to be affectionate.

You both turn to the table as Killa sets down two steins on the table, saving you from replying. You pull your close to your seat while Killa and the Marquis shake hands. You briefly wonder how much the gold on their fingers is worth when combined.

It makes sense that they know each other, both are the High Table representatives for their country, but you never put it together.

“Sit, please. Enjoy a game with us, ja?” Killa asks, reaching into a suit pocket for cards.

You balk at his suggestion. “No poker. It took me ages to work off my debt from the last game.”

You can see Killa's four gold teeth as he grins at the Marquis.

“Please excuse me. I have business to attend to. Killa, Mademoiselle.” Vincent says. You watch him disappear into the crowd.

On the day of the dinner, you get ready early, probably a bit too early but you need to make sure there is not a hair out of place. Even if he thinks you rejected him during the cigarette you shared, you don't see him having any interest if you reject him twice.

You need to make sure that you are ready for anything. Your most preferred situation would be ending up in his bed, finally having something positive come from the crush you’ve been nursing. If things went badly, you can always try to avoid him. The city was large, plus you could always let Camille deal with him.

Even though he told you not to bring anything you still got him something. Obsessive googling of what to give as a host gift to a rich person, as well as just asking some people you chat with in your hotel gave you an idea.

You got him lilies, seven of them to be exact. Some websites advised against gifts that make the host work to put them away but someone who had a friend who worked for him assured you that he has a dozen household staff who would take care of that.

His hand is warm between your shoulder blades as he guides you into his dining room. You try not to stare at the emperor-style around you. Everything is large, gold, and expensive.

The table is set for two, with shiny silverware marking your seats. You’re on edge, trying to figure out if this is a date under the cover of a thank-you dinner, or just that. A dinner thanking you for doing your job.

He pulls out your chair for you and waits for you to sit before going over to his

“How are you?” he asks while waiting for the food to be served. The table is long, but you sit on opposite sides of the length so you can speak easily to each other.

You shrug, before remembering your manners.

“I’m fine, I'm just struggling to find,” you pause, moving your hand around as if you could grab the words from the air,” some aesthetic to sum up Paris for the hotel.”

“City of lights, city of love, art, culture, food…” The examples roll off his tongue, clearly showing off what he knows about his home.

“That's why they filmed The Bad Touch video here.” you reply without thinking.

You can tell you have his interest even if he won't say it. You pray he thinks it's funny and that you’re not an idiot.

“The video has shots of the Eiffel Tower and Champ de Mars in the background.” you elaborate as if that would make your point smarter.

The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement as he makes a small sound of amusement.

“I have a book that will help you. Remind me after our dinner. How is your hotel?” He takes a sip of his wine.

“Amazing, as usual. We have a mafia man staying for the week, he booked two rooms. One for him and his wife, the other for his mistress! On different floors, of course.”

This made him laugh, finally allowing for a comfortable conversation to start to flow.

His library is gorgeous. As with him and everything in his home, it's grand and highly decorated in hues of gold. Books are arranged neatly on shelves around the room, and a few scattered chairs and tables for reading or taking notes. It looks like it's hardly used, or just kept in very pristine condition.

His excitement was obvious in the way he held himself, his hands not inside his pockets, but instead held tightly by his arms. He scans his bookshelves on a mission, ready to find you a specific book. You take in the titles at a more leisurely pace, looking for something you may have read.

The Marquis makes a noise of excitement, long legs carrying him over to where you are still looking at fiction.

“Les Fleurs du Mal. I think you will find it helpful,” he says, placing a thick hardcover in your outstretched hand.

You run a finger of your free hand over the cover, the title and the image of a flower embossed in gold on the hardcover.

“It’s a bilingual version. You can keep it.”

Now he's giving you gifts, you think. If he does see you as a friend it must be a good one

“This is,” you pause to search for a word. A pity gift? Flirting? “Very kind” you finish.

He hums and steps closer until his chest rests against your back while he gently takes the book out of your hands, leafing through the poems until he sees the one he wants.

You feel like you're going to combust. All you can smell is his cologne and feel him. You pray he didn't notice how your breath hitched as his arm brushed yours to get the book.

Vincent holds the page open in front of you. It's lowered to your height, but he can still see over your shoulder. You can't help but stare as his nimble fingers flick through the pages.

“The introduction explains the industrialization of Paris. The rest are poems. Some were banned for immorality when first published.” His voice is quiet, not needing to be loud given how close his lips are to your ear.

You glance down, thankful to have something to focus on other than how close he is to you and how badly you want him. One page has the original French version, Ciel Brouillé and its sister page has an English translation, Cloudy Sky. It's just four stanzas. You can get through this without making a fool of yourself. It's a short poem about a gray day.

Until it's not. He reads the French version slowly as if he wants to savor the words. The English translation is making your face hot, as the poem describes a seductive but harsh woman, and what it would be like to be intimate with her.

The poem finished, he looks at your side profile, trying to judge your reaction.

“What do you think?” he asks, voice softer since he is right at your ear.

All you can think about is your crush. You twist in his hold, now standing face to face. His arms cage you in, and Les Fleurs du Mal now digs into your back. He's looking at you while waiting for your answer.

“It's a poem.” you manage.

“Yes.”

Amusement is written over his face, you could only dream of being that composed. You bring your arms to hold onto his biceps. You fucked your chance to kiss him before you’re not doing to do it again.

You make a show of eyes flicking down to his lips and back up to meet his eyes in a silent notice of what you want. You feel his arms move under your hands then feel relief at the book no longer digging into your back. One of his hands moves to your face, giving you flashbacks about the last time you two were in a similar position.

With nothing around to burn you, it's the right time to make the final move. You quickly press your lips to his, probably a bit more forceful than you intended.

He pulls back slightly, using his hand to maneuver your face for a better angle.

“Finally.” he breathes into your mouth.

You don’t know why he called you graceful over dinner all those months ago. Now you’re all excitement mixing with nerves and incredibly turned on.

Vincent is more smooth, walking backwards with his hands pulling you by your hips. He's telling you how pretty you look, and how much he likes your perfume while settling into the plush couch. He pulls you down so your legs are bracketing his. Each complement makes your face burn hot.

Resting all your weight on your knees you hesitate to fully sit in this lap. As badly as you want this, you don’t think that you could put your heart back together if this was a one-time thing.

“Vincent, I uh” you elect to use his first name not his title. “I can’t do this if it's a one-time thing.”

He brings a hand to your face, moving your chin so you’re looking into his eyes.

“Cherie, do you know how often I visited the Continental before your management?”

You frown slightly, unsure where he is going to go with this.

“Never. I can do everything the hotel offers myself.”

His hand moves to your lower back as he sits upright to take off his suit jacket. You help as he switches hands, always have one of your lower back. You gingerly lay it over the back of the couch before resting your hands on his shoulders, having fully settled onto him.

“Do you know how often I go to that fucking disgusting bar before you started going?”

“Never?” you venture.

“Once,” he admits. “But when I was younger.”

You want to pry on what he means by that but it's not the time.

“You’re smart. Why would I do all of this?”

You want to have a good answer, to not seem like you’re full of yourself. From what you heard about him, he would appreciate your directness more.

“For me?”

“Oui.”

It's a massive boost to your ego. The most powerful man in Paris, probably all of France, says that he goes to a bar he hates just to see you.

“What about you? Did you wear this for me, mon amour?” he asks, hand moving over your thigh.

Your emotions are running high. Between his confession and actions, you’re more confident than normal.

“You should see what's underneath.”

His eyes snap to your face, delighted in your boldness.

The Marquis hooks a finger in your shirt, pulling the collar away from your body. He peers down the front of your shirt before looking back at your face.

“Pretty.”

You make a mental note to reclassify how you thought he would act in a romantic context. Still a bit annoying but charming too.

#marquis de gramont x reader #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #the marquis de gramont x reader #whhoooo okay new ending #I think its better anyway it starts right after R kisses him

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sneckoil · 6 months ago

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ok so i haven't watched housemd since i was a kid and just finished s1 and i am just. why is cameron written like that. genuinely her thing with house had me so completely lost this season. feels like a waste of a great actress but?? maybe I'm wrong?? she just feels so. empty as a character to me. regardless i would love to know what your opinion is on the character bc from what i remember it doesn't get better from here

I dont blame you ban-joey and I really appreciate your courage to send this off anon. We probably have the same experience. I watched house as a kid too (when I was 14, like 10 yrs ago) and hated her for being contrarian and inconsistent and in the way. But since then i’ve looked inward and found i was imposing double standards wrought by internalized misogyny. Anyway.

My opinions on cameron:

Number 1, if i were her i would shoot my shot with house too. excuse me. as if most of us on here are not just twenny… thirty somethings pining after old men. happily going on a monster truck date? getting a date in return for the old man to have me back on my team? Yeah. I respect the hustle. fuck that old man or whatever. marry him when he’s sick. phantom thread him

Number 2, liking Cameron is easy once you accept. That she is really really really not normal. I know this may be something you already know. But internalize it. She says something righteous but it doesnt mean that that is her defining trait. There is something so deeply wrong with her. I know you’re still on season 1 and Yes she Gets Worse but if you are working with the same lens as i am (that there’s something WRONG with her) then everything that happens makes sense. [spoilers] Of course youre only attracted to people when they’re sick and dying. Of course your reaction to being told youre boring is getting high on your patient’s drugs a few weeks away from your HIV test results. Of course you wanted to cheat on your dying husband with his best friend who comforted you while your husband was dying but you didn’t and you still haven’t after the fact he died. Of course you kept your dead husband’s sperm. Of course you wanted to kill a dictator but didnt, and then got pissed at your husband who Did kill him, a husband you actually felt nothing for and was hesitant to even let propose to you [/end spoilers] she’s so funny. If she were a guy they’d call her a messy bitch and love her for it. she has uncategorizable mental illnesses masking as a savior complex.

Number 3, you’re right about the emptiness on some level though. They wanted to write her out of the show and they did her so bad. And I’d say yeah she’s inconsistent as a character, but that goes for Everyone in this show. House isn’t consistent. Wilson isn’t consistent. None of them are consistent. Cameron is only as well-written as the writer who knows how to write her. I’ve suspected the only reason i hated her when I was 14 was she got in the way of hilson. But nowadays that stuff is so unserious to me. All i care about now is messy people being messy about other people

Number 4, she compels me. I like that she’s interesting. I don’t like most of her decisions, I disagree with her the most, but it’s interesting. She’s fun to Watch. She’s no Foreman (that guy is a case study in layers of character depth but that’s for another ramble) but that’s more than i can say for her than someone like, say, Chase LMAO

That being said if you dont like cameron then that’s fine 👍 we live in a society etc etc

I end with this (thank you jackie for putting this image on my feed)

#shioshpam

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sysboxes · 10 months ago

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It's possible for alters to have their own mental health!!! Alters can have personality disorders that other alters don't have, I think what you're talking about is autism, ADHD and other disorders similar! (As those affect the brain and therefore affect the whole system, but personality disorders are a different sort of thing, so one alter can have a PD and the others might not!) We can provide links if you'd like ^^ /nm /info

Hey there Anon! Thank you for the offer. We also received the following anon from (probably) another user, which I'd like to address here as well:

Alters can have personality disorders: (link) “✘ MYTH: ALTERS CAN’T HAVE THEIR OWN MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES IF THE MAIN SURVIVOR DOESN’T HAVE THEM. They actually can, and many do. It’s extremely common for individual alters to battle depression, anxiety, OCD, bipolar, eating disorders, self harm, etc., while other members of the system experience no such thing. Some extremely differentiated systems may even need that system member to come forward and take medications that the rest of the system does not need and will not get. ..and their brain’s neurology responds accordingly. But, make no mistake, most expressions of mental illness amongst alters are incredibly real and valid and should be treated as such.” (cut up a little, the source is above, we're pretty sure the source is reliable, it seems so. We've also had other systems say this too, and to us that's how it works, as only one of us as far as we know are affected by NPD)

Firstly, I feel the paragraph that was cut out of the Beauty After Bruises section is very important for further context and explanation. It's quoted here below:

One note about some disorders, however. Non-verbal, poor eye contact, savant-like, or sensory-processing-disorder alters can be extremely common traits in DID systems. However, it’s important not to just jump to calling these parts “autistic” if the system as a whole is not autistic. It’s possible for alters to behave in ways that mimic their understanding of SYMPTOMS in other disorders they know about, while not actually possessing the neurology for them. This is a complicated subject we could try to elaborate more on at some point, but it’s just an encouragement to pause and not automatically label some parts as having certain conditions just because they show a few traits of them. It can cause a great deal of conflation and misrepresentation of those illnesses. It may also be purely based on discriminatory or uneducated stereotypes of those conditions that were adopted into a young child’s mind. So, it’s just helpful to check for that possibility first!

As Beauty After Bruises is saying here, neurology takes a place in this discussion. It seems as if this resource is mostly stating that alters can all struggle with mental illness, and can appear to struggle singularly with those illnesses symptoms -- in which case, the "This alter is a symptom holder" is exactly the language we feel comfortable with. Until we are able to research more, we're wary about spreading potential misinformation about how brains work.

As mods, we absolutely want to do our best to avoid spreading misinformation. From our understandings, NPD and similar personality disorders are caused by a structural shift in the brain -- something physical and concrete. Here's some of our resources we found on NPD.

Source 1: “They analyzed a total of 34 test subjects, of which 17 suffered from a narcissistic personality disorder… Using magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) methods, the scientists measured the thickness of the patients' cerebral cortex… The findings revealed that those subjects suffering from narcissistic personality disorder exhibited structural abnormalities in precisely that region of the brain, which is involved in the processing and generation of compassion.”

Source 2: “The decreased brain white matter microstructures among three clusters were found in the association, projection/thalamic and connection pathways of white matter in young adult males with NPD. The abnormal white matter brain regions may be one of the neuropathological basis of the pathogenesis of young males with NPD, and it may be related to white matter development in early adulthood."

Based on these sources, the moderators are most comfortable using the language of alters being symptom holders. Both sources indicate that NPD affects the structural nature of the brain, which would impact all of the members of the system. However, like Beauty After Bruises was suggesting, that doesn't mean that various alters don't reflect those symptoms in different ways. It's absolutely possible for alters to struggle more or less with disorders, or even seemingly not at all.

I hope this clarifies our perspectives. Thank you!

#mod avon 📖#not a userbox #asks

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months ago

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Bob (M 30s),an acquaintance for a few years. Met him at his work a store where he’d come up & chat with us (spouse & I 50s). Had some interests in common so we invited him to game nights, never came. Bob would contact us online occasionally or at his work. Usually he needed help with something like his computer. Sometimes we gave him, old bits of hardware that were gathering dust as upgrades. Bob brought us beer like twice to thank us.

After we helped Bob would disappear for months at a time. Wouldn’t hear from him at all unless we happened to run into him at work or he needed something. The occasional ‘hey how are you’ online, we would talk to him maybe 2-3 times a year at most. Never accepted invitations to come over so we stopped asking. So, we never hung out with this guy socially at all.

Recently he just shows up at our house around midnight & leaves a note saying he can’t contact us online but he needs our help. I left a note saying if he can’t contact us online not sure how we are going to talk but he can leave a note if he wants. We are not fans of people just dropping by. The next night he leaves a note saying his car isn’t running right & can he borrow one of ours for a few hours, (we have 2 but only 1 works). He said ‘he just wants to get out of here’. hours/out of here seems contradictory. The next note asks which car he can borrow.

I leave a note that no, we can not help him only 1 works & we don’t know him well enough to lend him a car even if they both did. He was freaking my spouse out so I told him not to come back. He read the note & said ‘OK’ which we heard on the sec camera.

Next day he parks on the access road in the park that is behind our house & is just separated by a thin treeline. He walks around our backyard, talking to himself, goes into our garage & spends a while poking around then leaves after more wandering around our yard. At this point we realized he has been parking back behind our house all week. We checked the footage, yes he was. He knew to come leave a note because he was watching when we had lights on. Spouse freaked & called the cops. I might not have but they were called. Cops talked to Bob not sure what else.

Next day he comes back. He says on camera ‘he won’t take a car now without permission because the cops scared him’.

Um.

He also leaves another note asking about the nonworking car, if we could give him the pink slip when he takes it. That he is broke & hungry.

He says ‘twice he was told to contact us to help him’.

By whom?

Spouse calls the cops who get to our place long after Bob left. We explain everything, show them the notes & the cop says he’s getting a warrant for stalking. A few days later Bob is arrested, court date set which he doesn’t show up to. No idea where he is now.

I feel like I ATAH because the cops got called on an obviously mentally ill person who was just asking for help, but we live in a rural area and there are no mental health resources to call. So… AITAH here?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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graciehart · 7 months ago

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the tortured poets department

i have thoughts!! surprising, right?? this is for anyone who cares to read them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Before you read, note that this is going to be critical of things, so let me just start by saying I have loved and listened to Taylor since I was 8, so none of it is said lightly or without careful thought (in fact, this took me absurdly long to write). Most of the issues I have are very near to my heart, actually, so I've spent a lot of time thinking about it. If you don't want to read criticism, then just don't read more. DISCLAIMER that I did my best, but not even this fully captures the nuance I feel able my own opinions lol I recognize the other sides and points, I really do. I hold many conflicting opinions.

The short version is I will always love her music and her voice and she is capable of writing absolutely gorgeous lyrics (dare I say poetry?). I don't tend to think too much about the sound of it because if I like the sound, it's all I really care about—maybe it sounds the same as other stuff, but if I like that other stuff, I don't really care about whether she branches out or not. I think it's great and interesting when she (or anyone) does, but I also don't like change so it doesn't matter to me the way I know it matters to some people. That's just me!

What gets more complicated for me is the narrative, themes, and general trends that have been more prominent the last year or so, and that's what the rest of my thoughts are. It's me enjoying the music while also being acutely aware of all the grief tangled up in it because of how much less connected I feel in many ways.

Side note: this got soooo much longer than even I expected and it still just scratches the surface! so if you decide to read, 1. thank you, and 2. I'd love to keep talking to you. 🤍

———————————————————— 💭

I am an overthinker (shocking!) and will for sure be annoyed that I can't think of each and every thing I think about this album, but this is what comes to mind right now. Some things that have stood out to me more and more with each release:

a tendency to write self-aware lyrics that, in trying to be self-aware, betray somewhat of a lack of self-awareness

a frustration with never growing up that she expresses while also not realizing the way she is complicit in that and her own refusal to grow up

considering herself the victim, particularly after "overcoming" the accusations that she always plays the victim

venturing more boldly into the territory of serious mental illness/suicidal ideation/mental health treatment despite demonstrating a fair amount of ignorance regarding those things in the past

fame going to her head (in the sense of her becoming further and further out of touch) and the entitlement in a lot of the more immature attitudes that come across in these songs

self-awareness: for me, the first example that comes to mind is Anti-Hero: "it's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me." It's a claim at self-awareness because she's poking fun at the fact that she knows people always say "maybe she's the problem." The reason why it feels to me like it exposes a lack of self-awareness is because she explores it mostly as a criticism to overcome and not a valid point of self-reflection. @jakeperalta's tags on her post explain it better than I do. Yes, there's an issue when you reduce every feeling to "well maybe she's the problem," but part of growth is admitting that maybe you are part of the problem and coming to terms with the fact that there is often some inevitable truth to that statement—and being willing to work on it. This example is from Midnights, but I think it ties into the next point.

immaturity/never growing up: I actually think these first two sections are just two parts of one section, but it's easier to read this way anyway. There are lots of references to not growing up on this album, the first that come to mind being "So High School" and "teenage petulance." Maybe it's just me, but as a 34-year-old woman, I wouldn't want to be feeling "so high school." I mean, as a 25-year-old, when I talk about feeling like my high school self, it's usually because I'm recognizing how limited my judgment and self-awareness was in high school (despite all the therapy and my efforts to be self-aware in high school). And I am aware of my own bias here—I absolutely hate the football game days because I didn't even like watching people act like that in high school, but at least they were high schoolers—but I do think part of what we've seen is Travis allowing her to be more immature and take less responsibility because that's also where he is at. Obviously I don’t speak to it with any authority since I don't know what happened in the relationship, but based on her behaviors and what I know about Joe (which is VERY little), I kind of get the feeling that part of what she didn't like about being with Joe is that he pushed her to grow. "Your integrity makes me seem small," etc. etc., but not in an “I want to grow” way, but not liking that feeling because she shouldn't have to feel small just because she wants to be able to only do what makes her happy. Just looking at the difference in her behavior and the fact that it seems like she's stopped trying to learn (Miss Americana-ish), it seems like she very much resents the responsibility that comes with being such a famous person and mainly considers herself a victim of her fame.

victimhood: to an extent, yes, she is a victim of her fame. No one should have that much fame and power, and of course she didn't sign up for it in this way. But wanting to have the kind of influence and reach that most artists desire is intertwined with fame. There isn't a way to separate it (in an ideal world, maybe, but that isn't what we're dealing with) and it's something that, to some degree, artists do sign up for. And I think she resents that she's expected to take any sort of responsibility for anything that she doesn't want to do, in a very, "but that's not fair!," teenage petulance kind of way. She even says in Sweet Nothing that "I'm just too soft for all of it." We're all too soft for all of it, but that doesn't mean we get to ignore it. It bothers me that she doesn't seem to feel any sort of responsibility to use this giant platform to do better. Everyone is aware of her influence, including her. I think that's part of the grief. No, it is not her job to use her platform for good, but I thought that it was something she valued and something she wanted. The other line that really stuck out to me was from Cassandra: "They say what doesn't kill you makes you aware, what happens if it becomes who you are?" You may be a victim of what doesn't kill you, but if it becomes who you are, that's not their fault. It reminds me a bit of the exhaustion of living with mental illness. For me in particular, it affects my relationships in a very fundamental way, and there are days that I sob because I am exhausted of things that are so normal being so, so difficult for me... but even though I didn't ask for it and it's not fair that this happened to me, it's still my responsibility to understand how my issues affect how I show up in relationships. It's still my problem, even though it isn't my fault that it's my problem. And if you're lucky, you find really beautiful people who are willing to help you and see that it's not their responsibility, but they want to make it easier for you—I recognize how lucky I am to have some people like that, but it never makes it anyone else's problem. If they decide one day it's not their problem, the truth is that it isn't (and then there's a more complex conversation about what you want to do to preserve a relationship). This is also very connected to something about Kate Beckett/why I identify with that character, and I can touch on that if anyone wants to know, but I don't really have cohesive thoughts about that prepared (it makes more sense if you already know the character). This also goes to other things, like her being upset that people always focus on who songs are about while ignoring the part she played in feeding that culture (like with secret messages).

mental health: this goes to a bigger discussion of how we turn to celebrities who are HIGHLY unqualified to have opinions on things for guidance (the nuance of the above discussion about using your platform), but the more she ventures into the discussion of mental illness, the more upset I get by some remarks she has made in the past. And yes, people grow, she may not feel this way anymore, but nothing in her behavior gives me any reason to believe that she doesn't still have this attitude. This is one that I know I have to be careful of because of how personal it is for me (I've been placed on a 5150 "danger to self" hold and I am a therapist), but one interview that has always made me so upset is that one where she talks about how she's never been to therapy, then ends it by saying "I feel like we just had a therapy session." She has said multiple times how she has never wanted to go to therapy when she has her mom, who already knows everything about her. And that is highly irritating to me because 1. that's why she's your MOM, not your THERAPIST, and 2. there's already so much stigma and apprehension around therapy and many people feel this way, so to have someone like Taylor Swift validate all the people who say "I'd rather talk to someone who already knows me" or "so and so is my therapist" is unbelievably frustrating. There's a reason it's unethical to treat people you know—that isn't therapy. And I think I wouldn't be so bothered by it if she didn't speak about it with such authority, like she knows what she's talking about when what she's saying shows that she doesn't (edit: this is specifically in regard to therapy, not mental illness. I am highly aware that anyone can be mentally ill). The other thing about this album is that it does seem to be an album about loving people with mental illness, and I've already seen a lot of interpretations that simply feed the narrative that people with mental illness are unlovable and mental illness is the reason people mistreat you (particularly the discussion about her lovers being blue all the time). And the issue with that is it's already a common misconception among people with mental illness, that their mental illness is an excuse or reason why they don't treat people right. It's disrespectful to the people who recognize that they have a mental illness that affects how they interact with others and choose to try to overcome it. I'm all for honest discussions about mental illness, but it's so disheartening when it happens on such a large scale and some of the loudest voices are people who don't know enough to know how to (at least try to) do no harm.

fame: I'm not really going to go into it because this has already turned out way longer than I meant for it to, but also because I feel like it's already been touched on. For me, it's the conversation about her feeling she should be able to just do what she wants. I think we all feel that way, but because of her fame and the fact that she's just about untouchable (as shown in how she came back from being cancelled), she can just tune everyone out. But one example was how uneasy I felt about this album being announced at the grammys. For one thing, it's not a fan-voted award, so even if it should, it doesn't feel the same. And regardless of your take on award shows, I do think it showed a level of insensitivity to the other artists who haven't won a bunch of grammys to decide that she would announce a new album at the grammys. Because even if she had a backup plan and said she didn't plan on it, the truth is that, to decide to have a backup plan, you did have to count on it happening, at least to an extent. You had to feel it was likely enough that you wanted to have a back up plan just in case, but it probably would go the way you wanted. To me, it just felt so... disrespectful. Because for many other artists, it doesn't happen more than once. (not to mention the many other things happening that got completely overshadowed, like Annie Lennox calling for a ceasefire)

So if you read all that... I don't even know what the point is at this point. These are just thoughts that, to me, don't feel right to simply ignore. I know there's an argument that you can enjoy music without enjoying where it came from, and it's true to an extent, but I also think part of the music is where it comes from. So... I don't know. Do with that what you will. And if you are reading this, I love you (I can't believe you're reading this).

#ttpd #tswift #low key mutuals you might not want to read this

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geeky-politics-46 · 2 years ago

Text

Sacrifices - Part 1

Pairing: Doctor Stephen Strange x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Stephen gave up the time stone to save you & your son, but how can you possibly go on without him?

Warnings: Heavy angst & some smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - language, reference to injuries, death, mental illness, complicated feelings about cheating, general sadness, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

This piece may go through some small edits over time as I work on part 2. Some slight canon divergence. Based on a request from @magnificentfurybluebird. Not necessarily my best work, but I'm happy with it.

GIF by wetiredofthis

When the spacecraft landed at the compound, thanks to Carol, you all scrambled to see who or what it was. You prayed to every God you knew that Stephen was somehow, someway, on board. That he had come back to you. Knowing that Tony and Peter had been with him when that creature, that thing took him.

Your heart shattered even further when you saw Tony near death stumble out. No one else followed except for Nebula. You knew deep down Stephen wouldn't be there. You already knew he was gone.

Nat and Steve were the ones who stayed outside with you as you sobbed and wailed. One hand on your pregnant belly, the other over your chest clutching at the cassum where your heart had once been. Nat rocking you back and forth, trying to calm you down and slow your breathing. Steve simply trying to keep you upright and holding your hair when your sobbing inevitably turned to dry heaving.

You don't remember how you got back inside. The next thing you remember was Tony having a little breakdown of his own. Understandably. You were swaddled in blankets staring blankly at the table. They had hooked both you and Tony up to IV drips. His anger didn't even phase you. Perhaps because it felt like an outlet for your own.

You vaguely remember Tony saying that Stephen gave up the time stone when Thanos threatened your life and the life of your unborn child. Stephen's son. You had only found out you were having a little boy a few days before Bruce crashed through the Sanctum's ceiling. It went from being the best week of your life to being the worst week of your life.

He said that Thanos threatened to find and torture you in front of him if Stephen didn't surrender the stone. That for the first time during the fight, he saw fear on Stephen's face. He knew Thanos would keep his word. So he did what he had to to save you and your son. Not knowing or not caring that Thanos' snap may as well have blipped you, too. Tony said that the last words Stephen said were, "There was no other way."

You were sure part of your soul turned to ash at the same time Stephen did. Even though you were safely ensconced in the Wakandan palace, you still felt it as if you had seen it with your own eyes. It was like someone had reached into your chest and pulled out your heart. You had stayed near catatonic on the trip back to regroup at the compound with all of the heroes who remained.

Since then, Nat had not let you out of her sight. Bruce and Steve were never far behind. Rhodey constantly brought you food and water, even though you refused to touch most of it. Pepper did what she could, but since Tony was in such bad shape, you couldn't blame her for focusing on him. Even Nebula and Rocket took turns sitting with you in those first few weeks.

You felt like a mental patient under constant observation for fear you would hurt yourself. Maybe that's what you were. Maybe that's why they didn't want to leave Tony and Thor alone for long either. Tony still had a long recovery ahead, and Thor already appeared to be spiraling into deep depression.

For a long time, you refused to speak to Wong directly. It hurt too much. The first words you spoke to him were to tell him that you couldn't go back to the Sanctum. He understood what you couldn't say out loud, so he let you keep your distance. Telling you that all you had to evet so was call and he would be there. Guarding over the Sanctum and the home you and Stephen had been building together. Promising to leave everything untouched unless you said otherwise.

For the next few months, the world around you felt like it was on fast forward. Perhaps it was just that you were moving in slow motion. You ate only when someone forced you to. Walked around the outside of the compound, but you had no interest in leaving the grounds. Preferring to spend most of your time curled up in bed, in the generic blank walled bedroom they gave you at the compound. You took care of yourself just enough to make sure your son would be born healthy, and he was.

A thick head of dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that matched Stephen's. You nearly gave him up for adoption because how could you care for and love this perfect little being when it hurt so badly to even just look at him? You couldn't though. You could never give up your one remaining tether to your husband. To Stephen. Instead, you sunk every ounce of energy you had into caring for him.

Your perfect little Vincent. The only silver lining you could find in a world without the man you loved. The reason you made yourself keep going. His sweet little smile was what kept you alive.

One by one, the remaining Avengers and Guardians started to leave. Rhodey had to help keep the US government and military functioning. Ayo literally had a whole country to run. Carol, Nebula, and Rocket were busy trying to keep other planets from falling apart. Pepper and Tony pretty much dropped off the grid during Tony's recovery. Val took over the responsibilities of New Asgard as Thor continued his own struggles, taking his solace in food and alcohol. Bruce left to try and find a way to peacefully coexist with the big green guy. Wong fell into the role of Sorcerer Supreme, putting the Kamar-Taj and the rest of the mystical arts power structure back into a working order.

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

Eventually it was basically just Nat, Steve, you, and little Vincent. Nat was absolutely smitten with your little man. Stealing him away any chance she got, and encouraging you to focus on yourself. That it would be better for both you and Vincent, who she had taken to calling Vinny, if you found ways to take care of yourself too. Both mentally and physically.

To pacify her, you agreed. Starting small with things you always used to love. Taking nice long baths or showers. Indulging in body care and fragrances that didn't smell like a mix of baby powder and lavender. You started reading books again that didn't have pictures or a rhyme scheme to them. Quickly working through everything in the compound.

Soon your favorite thing to do was to have Steve take you into the city to visit your favorite little used bookstore, which was luckily still there. You went with Nat a couple times too, but going with Steve always felt better. Something about the white noise of his bike mixed with the wind whipping past you or the soothing sounds of 40's music in his car. Showing him you favorite books and ones that you thought he needed to read. He was content to just quietly wander through the shelves with you,

Nat was always trying to get you further out of your shell. Like you were her own little pet project. Trying to get you to go to lunch after or go shopping for clothes. She even pitched going lingerie shopping one day. You practically ran back to the compound on foot after that. You were nowhere near ready for that. To be or be seen as a sexual or sensual being again. To move on. Your heart still belonged to and longed for Stephen. Even after it had been years. You still wore your wedding rings for Christ sake.

At night, you still even dreamed of him. Almost every night, Stephen would find you. You didn't know where you were, but the landscape was barren and cold until Stephen would use his magic to cast an image of one of your favorite places. The park near the Sanctum or even the rooftop of the old building. The two of you reminiscing about the times you snuck up there to get away from everything, listening to the sounds of the city. A moment of fleeting happiness in those dreams only to wake up to the cold reality that he was gone and that you had to go on without him. You hated your own mind for torturing you with such vivid dreams.

That was another reason you liked being with Steve on your outings. He didn't treat you like just a mom, but he never pressured you to try to move on. He certainly hadn't either, despite what he told everyone else. You could see it in his eyes. You both simply chose to exist in that moment. No talk of the future or the past. Eventually, you two did start staying out together longer. Expanding your adventures to include things like walks in the park, museums, an occasional movie, and meals.

It was even with Steve that you decided it was time to pick up some of your stuff from the Sanctum. You didn't get much. Some of the things you had bought for Vincent before he was born, some of your clothes and toiletries, and a few photos of you and Stephen that you wanted Vincent to have. You wanted him to know his father, even if you weren't ready to talk about him much. Other than say how much Stephen would have adored him.

By the time you left, you were shaking like a leaf, even though you ran out of tears to cry a long time ago. After piling everything into the trunk of his car, Steve assumed you would want to go right home. Instead, you wanted to get drunk, telling him to go to the little Mexican restaurant you two frequented. Taking your normal table in the corner of the patio. It was a great spot for people watching.

Luckily, Steve talked you into stopping after two margaritas and a shot of tequila. Also making sure you ate plenty to absorb the alcohol. You were actually feeling better by the time you went to leave. Still telling Steve to take the long way back to the compound.

"Can I take you somewhere I really like to go? When I just want quiet or want to think?"

"Sure, Steve. Quiet sounds nice. I love Vincent so much, but he reminds me so much of Stephen. I don't know that I'm quite ready for that. I'll just shoot Nat a text saying she's in charge of bedtime."

You ended up parked out in the most beautiful field at the edge of an apple orchard. As soon as you got out of the car, the sweet scent of the ripening fruit enveloped you. Paired with the remaining heat from the sun sitting low on the horizon and the cool breeze slowly moving in, it felt perfect. It was breathtaking.

Your breath hitched a little when Steve's hands found his way to your hips as he helped you climb up on the hood of the sports car. Finding yourself extra self-concious when you turned to get comfy and inevitably ended up with your ass in his face. Noticing the blush you both wore when he went around to the other side and effortlessly pulled himself up next to you.

He quickly folded up his leather jacket to place under your head. Holding it in place until you were laid back and settled before following you and laying down beside you. His strong arm pressed against you, the warmth of his body radiating off of him. The scent from his jacket, the leather mixed with his cologne, filling your nostrils. Suddenly, you felt drunker on Steve than even the tequila had made you feel.

He noticed you shiver and the goosebumps forming on your arms. Without even thinking, he put one arm around you and pulled you so your head was resting on his shoulder. Moving his jacket so it draped over the two of you like a blanket. You fought the urge to bury your nose into his neck.

Had he always smelled so intoxicating?

Suddenly, you were feeling things you hadn't felt in literal years. Your body felt nearly electric. Even on those nights when you couldn't sleep and tried to sate an itch that you wanted to deny still existed, or when you dreamed of the passion filled nights you spent with Stephen, it didn't feel like this. It didn't feel like hunger. Like you were starving only to be plopped down in front of a big juicy Thanksgiving feast. It was too much and nowhere near enough.

You felt Steve's heart start to race as his enhanced sense of smell began to pick up what was surely the scent of your growing arousal. As the sun sank lower in the sky and the sound of crickets grew louder, the tension between you continued to grow thicker. In a moment of bravery, you let your hand come to rest on Steve's abdomen. He let his hand that was wrapped around you start drawing shapes on your hip.

You both knew you had reached the point of no return when his movements caused the shirt you were wearing to rise, and his fingers finally made contact with your bare skin. Your head tilted upward against his jaw as a needy moan feel from your lips as they pressed gently against his neck. Your teasing breath illiciting a hungry growl from the captain.

Time seemed to slow as he tilted his head down and gazed into your eyes. Seeming to seek confirmation that this wasn't in his head or that you weren't just drunk beyond all reason. The haze of lust in your eyes pushed him to place his lips softly over yours. It was comforting and sweet, and oh so different from the way Stephen used to kiss you.

That was the reason why you deepened the kiss. Letting your tongue lick across Steve's lips until he reflexively thrust his tongue into your mouth. For the first time since Stephen left, you weren't thinking about how his touch or his kiss used to feel. How much you missed everything about him. You were relishing in the unfamiliar. You stopped thinking and let yourself be taken.

Pulling Steve's large form on top of yours and spreading your legs so he could slot his hips between them. Arching your body up into his at the way his weight felt on top of you. It felt so good. You couldn't stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his legs and dragging your fingernails down his back until you got to his ass. Digging your fingers into his flesh and pulling his pelvis to grind against you.

The feel of his bulge grinding against you making you hungrier for him. You quickly reached up and moved to pull your shirt off. Finally getting your first good look at Steve's face after throwing your shirt to the side. Strands of his dark blonde hair falling forward into his now clouded blue eyes. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips swollen.

"God, you look so beautiful. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about this. I like being with you. Are you sure you want this? I don't want to pressure you."

It was sweet, and you were very happy that Steve cared about your feelings and your wants. You liked being with him, too. Right now, though, you didn't want to think. You just wanted to feel. You desperately wanted to feel something good. If that good feeling was having Captain America pound you stupid on the hood of his car, then so be it. You would deal with the consequences afterward.

You quickly began unbuttoning his shirt as you spoke. Looking into his pretty blue eyes only for a moment before focusing again in the expanse of his bare chest coming into view. All smooth skin and a few freckles against thick muscle.

"Just don't talk, Steve, just touch me, please. I just need you to touch me and kiss me. Okay? Right now, I just need you to take off your pants. Talk later."

He hesitated for a minute, then gave in. Nodding quickly and whispering, "Okay. Okay." Moving to unbutton and unzip his own jeans before moving over to yours as you pushed his shirt back off of his strong shoulders. Dragging your nails back down his newly bare chest before reaching back and bracing yourself on the cool metal of the car hood to help him lift your hips so he could shimmy your own pants down.

The heat of Steve's gaze ratcheting up even more now that you were down to just your bra and panties. You didn't feel self-conscious or focus on the flaws you always saw in the mirror. For the first time since Stephen, you felt beautiful in someone else's eyes. Steve was seeing you bor just as a mother. Not just as a friend, but as a woman.

Steve descended back on you with the same hunger you showed him. Quickly tearing apart the rest of your clothing and exposing your most intimate places. His eyes darkened and a deep groan came from his chest. Before either of you could speak you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him down to kiss you. Both of you letting yourself succumb to your desires.

Your hands slowly moved to his hips, catching both his jeans and his boxer briefs and pushing them down in one go. Finally feeling Steve completely bare against you. Skin on skin. The weight of his big thick cock sliding against your wet cunt making you needy.

You needed to feel him inside you. Needed to feel that delicious stretch. His fingers toying with your nipples already had you starting to tingle. It had been so long, and you didn't realize how much you missed being touched and kissed. How much you missed the feeling of being well fucked.

That's exactly what Steve Rogers made sure you were that night. Not stopping until he had made you cum at least 3 times before you went home to the compound. Of course you were so sensitive that he had you cumming with his first full thrust into you.

By the time the sun was starting to rise, you and Steve had been at it for hours before finally succumbing to a few hours of sleep in each other's arms. Your alarm, thankfully, making sure you still woke up before Vincent. Until you figured out whether this was a one-time thing you didn't want to get him involved. As far as he needed to know, Uncle Steve was still just Uncle Steve.

However, by the time the next evening rolled around, after showing Vincent all the photos and things you had picked up from the Sanctum, you hated yourself for what you had done. Even if he was gone, you still felt like you betrayed Stephen. So why did you want to do it again if you felt so terrible? Why was it all you could think of that night when you tried to sleep? Or what you found yourself daydreaming about it the shower?

You still loved Stephen with all of your heart and would give anything to have him back, but Steve had reawakened a part of you thought had died with Stephen. Up until that day, you had never even fantasized about anyone else. Just Stephen. It had been years since the blip. You had been pregnant when you lost Stephen. Now you had a dark-haired little toddler running around. He adored his Auntie Nat and Uncle Steve. He was happy even if he didn't have his real father.

You wanted him to have a fully rounded life, and now that he was almost 5, it wouldn't hurt for him to have a father figure. To see his mother happy and loved. There would never be another Stephen, but maybe you could be happy with Steve. Stephen would want you to be happy, right? Maybe you could be a little family unit together. Even though your whole heart could never belong to Steve, you could give him part of it. Maybe that was all you could ask for.

You found yourself confiding in Nat. Needing to share the guilt you felt and hear everything you were thinking said out loud. Of course, you would take into account whatever advice she had to offer, but it was more that you desperately needed to share the thoughts that were eating at you.

After spilling everything, you noticed her face was unchanged. Your brows furrowed as you saw the mischievous glint in her eyes and her biting at her bottom lip to keep from smiling. As you figured out exactly why she was holding back a grin, you buried your face in your hands.

"Ugh… Steve already told you we slept together, didn't he?"

A snort came from the redhead, well half redhead half blonde. Already confirming your suspicions.

"I caught him sneaking out of your bedroom the other day, and you know how terrible he is at lying. It wasn't exactly hard to connect the dots."

Her smile faded when she saw the tears forming in your eyes. She came over to where you were sitting and pulled you into a tight hug. Starting to rock you back and forth when she heard your soft cries.

"I know how much you still love Stephen, and so does Steve. He's not expecting you to just forget about him. He knows how important he was to you. Stephen knew how much you loved him, and he would want you to feel love even without him. For yourself just as much as for Vincent. He wouldn't have sacrificed himself if he didn't. We all lost people, and we are all still hurting, but you deserve good things in your life. You deserve to feel happy and even find love again. Whether or not that is with Steve is between the two of you. You can't keep punishing yourself for what happened. None of us can. Maybe we all just need to finally move on. "

You both sat in silence, holding each other close. Thanking the powers that be that even after losing the love of your life, you had found a best friend to help keep you sane. Both of you slowly sinking to the edge of sleep, drifting between the present world and the dreamworld where Stephen still visited you. Only for you to be snapped awake by the sound of knocking and a vaguely familiar voice.

You cracked one eye open and found the security camera for the front door to be the cause of the disturbance. What you saw made your heart jump into your throat. Sticking his face right up into the camera was a man you knew only from his picture, the one that was displayed on the same board as Stephen's after the snap. It was the face of Scott Lang, who had supposedly been blipped 5 years ago along with the others.

Without looking away from the screen you shook Nat awake. Sure that if you looked away from the screen he would disappear, either as a figment of your own imagination or a hallucination. You couldn't even form words to communicate properly until Nat realized what you were seeing.

"Oh my god! Is that… Scott?"

"Nat, is that live? That's not video, right? How is that real?"

She bolted up from the couch and over to the monitors. Double checking the feed to make sure it was, in fact, live and that everything checked out. Making sure she followed all safety protocols before opening the door.

"I have no idea, but go get Steve, and you may want to put some coffee on. If this is real, it's gonna be a long night."

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

Vincent loved having Scott there, and Scott was great with him. Showing him all sorts of card tricks and close-up magic. He was almost more goofy, big brother than anything. Even as the rest of the group started to trickle back into the compound, brought back together by Scott's time heist plan, Scott was still the cool one. With the exception of Rocket, because even close-up magic can't beat talking raccoon.

You listened from the dining area at your son and his new friends gathered in the living room. All eyes on the toddler as he colored. Various coloring books and crayons scattered on the table being used by Scott, Rocket, Bruce, and Nebula. You and Steve were busy setting out plates and silverware while Nat and Clint had begun retrieving enough take out food to feed an army. Thor was asleep on the couch.

"Mommy says my daddy could do magic. He's not here to show me though, he disappeared with lots of other people. Maybe you and my uncle Wong could teach me how to do magic, and I can bring them all back? Then mommy won't be sad anymore."

You could see Scott glance at you over Vincent's shoulder. Trying not to draw attention to the fact that he knew you were listening. The tears quickly blurred your vision before you moved to wipe them away. Scott didn't want to overstep his boundaries, not having known you or Vincent very long, but he knew he needed to say something to comfort the boy. He continued before Scott could say anything.

"I know mommy has me and Auntie Nat and Uncle Steve. She says her and Uncle Steve are special friends now, and sometimes he stays with her at night, but I know she still misses Daddy. Sometimes at night I hear her crying and it makes me sad that she's sad. I want to help make her feel better. Plus, I wanna meet Daddy. He sounds really cool."

Well now that your son had outed you and Steve to all of the other Avengers in the room. You felt very much on display, like an exposed raw nerve. No one wanting to make eye contact with you except Steve and Nat. All feeling a little guilty at having left you knowing now that you still cried yourself to sleep most nights, at least the ones you weren't taking solace in Captain America's arms.

From the living room once more, you catch Scott trying to communicate silently with you. After some eyebrow wiggles and hand gestures, you figured out he wants to tell Vincent about the time heist plan. You assume not everything as Vincent is only 4, but just the fact that they have a plan to try. You figure what the hell, he's bound to notice all the commotion starting around the compoundanyways.

Maybe it would be best to tell him, especially since it had already been decided the two of you would go to the Sanctum while the heist and ensuing fight was happening. It would be the safest place physically for you to be. Even if mentally, you weren't so sure. If it worked and Stephen did come back, you would have a lot less to explain. If it didn't work though, would your son's heart be broken just like yours? You weren't sure you could handle that.

After a few more seconds of thinking, you give Scott a little nod. Giving him the go-ahead to share the plan with Vincent. Who is he gonna tell anyway?

"Can you keep a secret? It's an Avengers only secret. So if I tell you it means you're an official Avenger, okay? We have a plan to try and bring everyone back, but we need someone to make sure your mom stays safe while we do. So maybe we can put you in charge of protecting your mom for us? Nat says she's always getting into trouble, and we have to make sure to keep her safe for your dad. Plus, I wanna meet your dad too. He does sound cool. If he's anything like you, then he'll be really cool."

"I've met him. Not that cool. Right Banner? Now, what's this you were saying about your mom and uncle Steve?"

Tony Stark was always one to make an entrance, Rhodey not far behind him, and ultimately you were happy to have his sarcasm change the energy in the room back to a more playful one. Tony tilted his sunglasses down and gave your son a little 6 show him he was teasing. The same look he always gave Steve when he was giving him shit, which he had managed to do oh so quickly. Your son's giggle breaking the tense air around you as Tony clutched his chest and exaggeratedly gasped at the scandalous reveal.

You had to laugh at the way Steve rolled his eyes. You knew he wasn't one to kiss and tell, let alone when you were still another man's wife. Even if that other man had been blipped years ago by a mad titan. You weren't officially a thing, but you weren't not a thing either. Truthfully, you both had yet to figure out exactly what you were for each other.

You were surprised when you felt a hand on your shoulder and looked ovet to see Clint. A shell of who he had been. Deep black circles under his eyes, a mohawk, and a plethora of new tattoos. Having lost his wife and his kids you knew he had struggled to make it this far. He offered you a tight lipped half smile. A smile that said I know your pain, and in the case you knew that he really did know.

"I know it's not exactly the same, but speaking as someone who also lost a spouse you still seem to handling it much better than me. I know everyone lost people, but you really got a raw deal. You're doing a great job, mom."

You hadn't realized Nebula had left the living room until she chimed in as well. Her monotone voice doing nothing to hide her feelings as she spoke.

"He is right. You are a good mother. Even if his father is dead. He is happy and loved. That's all I ever wanted… to be loved."

You knew she meant it nicer than it sounded. She was just very blunt. You wanted to say something back to her. To tell her that she is loved. You wanted to hug her, but knew that probably wasn't the best thing. Instead settling for reaching out to put your hand on hers as she went to grab a plate. Her breath hitching and her body jumping lightly at even that friendly gesture.

You squeezed her hand in yours and gave her a little smile and a nod whispering a silent thank you. Letting go before she had the chance to return the nod, not wanting to pressure her into responding further. Your smile growing when a soft "You are welcome" fell from her lips. Excusing yourself so you could go get Vincent as well as wake up Thor, and she could start plating her food.

After everyone got their food and the plotting of how and where to find all the infinity stones began, you and Vincent began planning for your own adventure. Packing all that you would need for an extended stay at the Sanctum. Making sure you had everything important accounted for. The time heist and potential following battle could go any number of ways, you and Vincent had to be prepared for anything. No matter what happened.

So you packed your belongings and started the process of moving yourselves back to the place that for years had been your home. The Sanctum Sanctorum. Now, it just felt haunted and empty. Moving yourself and Vincent into new bedrooms and not daring to even open the door to the master bedroom you and Stephen once shared.

Vincent was enjoying helping build the time machine however he could. Even just carrying tools or supervising. The time passed quicker than you would have hoped, and before long, the big day was staring down at you. Wong had made sure you were all settled in by then.

You and Steve had spent what, if all went according to plan, would be your final night together. He promised you that they would succeed, whatever it took. They would set the world right. That they would do it for you and for Vincent.

It would be your job to throw the switches and start the time machine that would scatter the Avengers throughout time and across all corners of the universe. Then Wong would take you and Vincent to the Sanctum before leaving to gather the forces of the Kamar-Taj and the other Sanctums.

One by one all of them gave Vincent a high five, a fist bump, or a hug as they climbed up onto the platform. Nat was the last one up, other than Bruce who checked all the settings one last time.

You noticed an odd look in her eyes as she hugged you so tight you could hardly breathe. From the corner of your eye, you saw her slip two sealed envelopes into Vincent's Captain America backpack. Kneeling down at eye level and making him promise to keep you safe. Telling him how proud she was of him before kissing the top of his head and joining the others.

After Steve finished his signature Captain America speech, you told Vincent to go stand back on the other side of the room with Wong. To make sure if anything went wrong, he would be protected. Starting your countdown once he was at a safe distance.

"Three… two… one… God speed."

As soon as the shockwave had cleared and all of them had disappeared, you checked the machine's settings against the paper Bruce and Scott had given you. Making sure everything looked stable and the platform was ready for their return. Starting the countdown clock ticking. It should only be five minutes in your time before they all returned.

Wong had already opened the portal to the Sanctum and sent Vincent through as you looked around at the Avengers compound one more time. On some level you knew that it was the last time you would see it. You didn't know what was coming next, but you knew there was no turning back now.

And so you stepped through the gold glimmering portal into the grand foyer of the Sanctum Sanctorum. Once again your home. For better or for worse. Giving Wong a hug and a thank you before sending him off to ready the other sorcerers for battle.

For now, your job was just to take care of your son. The only job you had really cared about for the last five years. Taking his small hand in yours and leading him into the dining room. While the others searched for the stones that could bring your husband back, dinner was the top priority on your list. For Vincent, you had to keep up a semblance of normalcy, even if every fiber in your body felt like it wanted to go hide under the bed.

All you could do was wait and hope…

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

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childofflamesandmoonlight · 4 months ago

Text

Help with Deity Dossier?

I did the wonderful Deity Dossier spread by @thiscrookedcrown a few days ago, and while I already have an idea who this entity could be, I would really appreciate a second opinion.

Thank you so much in advance!

Here are the cards I drew (plus some of my notes):

1. The Entity: The Emperor

This represents the spirit, deity, or being in question. The card can be drawn or selected, depending on if you know the nature of the spirit or a card that could represent them.

Leadership

Authority

Reason

Structure

Discipline

Masculine power

Maturity

Responsibility

Stubbornness

Protector

Experience

Knowledge

Confidence

Strength

Dominance

Father figure, boss, older brother, teacher, patriarch

Mind over heart, clear thinking

2. Their History: Temperance

These are past deeds or dealings the spirit has had with either other people or you that you should know about.

Balance

Moderation

Communication

Management of resources

Art

Healing

Testing the water

Patience

Two choices, two people, two sides of a conflict

3. Underlying Influences & Past Experiences: Four of Swords

Similar to Past, this represents influences that could be important to know. This may be an emotional thing rather than a past action. (Example: if previously betrayed by humans, a spirit is less likely to want to deal with humans.)

Inner reflection

Planning

Convalescence

Rest

Recovery

Solid foundations

Solitude

Self-care

Balance

Contemplation

Seclusion

Taking a break

4. Personality, Attitudes & Opinions: Four of Cups

General personality and/or how they think.

Depression

Self-indulgence

Denial

Turning inward

Moodiness

Lack of vision

Self-absorption

Escapism

Not seeing life's blessings and opportunities

Hiding

Discouraged, bored, dissatisfied, apathetic, unmotivated, weary

Having to find new motivation

Breaking the routine

5. Their Current Status: The Moon

Their current status. If a spirit is in trouble, this information would appear here.

Intuition

Deception

Imagination

Emotion

Fear

Illusion

Fantasy

Dreams

Genius

Artistic breakthrough

Confusion

Mystery

Subconscious

Uncertainty

Doubt

Losing your way

Darkness

Creativity

Magic

Inner wisdom

Lack of focus

Confusion

6. Their Health Overall: Page of Swords

The health of the spirit, deity, or being. (Example: A land spirit could be ill or ailing due to pollution.)

Vigilance

Diplomacy

Tact

Intellectual abilities

Talent

Youth

Messenger

Honesty

Truth

Integrity

Fresh outlook

Clarity

Cut to the problem

New phase in your life

New opportunity

Speaking up

Healing from past illness or injuries

Mental clarity to overcome challenges you face

7. Their Mental Health: Six of Pentacles

Their mental health or, possibly, their overall mood.

Generosity

Mentorship

Community giving

Hosting

Involvement

Charity

Sharing what you have with others

Needing help or offering it to others

Reaching out for help

8. What They Like To Do & Have Done For Them: Knight of Pentacles

This could be things they like to do for others, part of their sphere of influence, and/or things that could be used to connect with them or honor them. Think of this like hobbies or likes.

Patience

Long-term plans

Responsibilities

Slow progress

Financially conservative

Serious, dependable, experienced, mature

Parenthood

Love of animals

Financial success

Providing for others

9. Physical Manifestation: Four of Wands

Their physical health or how they could physically manifest. This is especially useful for finding out what deity is contacting you.

Happiness

Family

Unity

Blossoming

New life, new success

Prosperity

Celebration

Harmony

Engagement

Marriage, partnership

Completion of a project

Solidity, stability, security

Grounded

Resting

Recharging

Vacation

Peace

Radiant

Lively

Comforting

Confident

Joyful

Inviting, welcoming, sociable

10. What To Know: The Lovers

Things that are imperative for you to know. This could be used to see how working with this being could affect you in the future.

Love

Commitment

Partnership

Friendship

Attraction

Marriage

Unification

Communication

Trust

11. What To Avoid: King of Wands

Things that are imperative for you to avoid doing. Example: If a spirit hates blood, don’t give blood offerings. This could also be used to see how the spirit could negatively affect you in the future.

Power

Fire

Warmth

Charisma

Charm

Strength

Manipulation

Megalomania

Visionary

Rivalry

Spice

Popularity

Ambition

Greed

Selfishness

Tyranny

Being a bad leader

12. Positive Influences, Friends or Experiences: Six of Wands

What is helpful? What will help your relationship with them? This can be something that is not in the spirit or deity’s sphere of influence but still influences them. A deity might be one of fertility but their sibling could be a deity of war. That will somewhat play into how the spirit acts. Another example would be a spirit becoming powerful because a nearby coven is worshiping it.

Accomplishment

Recognition

Acknowledgement

Praise

Pride

Rewards

Being noticed

Achievements

Affirmation

13. Negative Influences, Enemies or Experiences: Five of Cups

Exactly as above, but the more negative side of things. What isn’t helping this spirit? What will not help your relationship with them? Do they feel used or not appreciated? The examples above also apply.

Negative thinking

Grief

Loss

Inclination to focus on the bad

Difficulty

Trouble letting go of the past

Former hardship, pain or heartbreak

14. Conscious Desires & Thoughts: The Hanged Man

What they want. This could be offerings or a general goal. This may be what they want from you. If they have an agenda they’ll admit to, it will be here.

Crossroads

Decisions

Potential growth

Discernment

Change

Letting go

Waiting

Sacrifice

15. Unconscious Desires & Thoughts: Nine of Cups

This is what they want but won’t admit to or what they don’t know they want. If they have a hidden agenda, it will be here.

Prosperity

Fulfillment

Good luck

Rewards

Bonuses and promotions

Happiness

Attainment of things they desire

Celebration

Wishes

Victory

16. Hopes: Nine of Swords

This can be a general list of hopes, a overall hope for the future, or what they hope to get from you.

Anxiety

Sleeplessness

Depression

Worry

Self-torment

Despair

Nightmares

Haunted

Guilt

Old wounds that have not healed

Stress

17. Fears: The Devil

This can be a general list of fears, what they fear for the future, or what they’re concerned about in regards to you or your life.

Bondage

Failure

Obsession

Addiction

Depression

Materialism

Lust

Illusion

Temptation

Constraints

Harmful attachments, bonds and impulses

Bad habits

Codependency

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