#the answer to so many problems is just: LAKE.

[strohller27]

[bonefall]

I’d be REALLY wary of that idea. I know it’s not your intention but no matter how you slice it that creates a scenario where some cats are genetically superior and more civilised than others based on where they’re from, which I feel is bad even if they happen to be nice to kittypets. Really love your work but maybe consider how you’d handle that one !!

Yeah, that's exactly the reason why I tacked the big old "THIS IS NOT IN THE REWRITE" warning onto the front of it lmao.

It also creates a situation where the Clans have an actual, unfortunate REAL justification for cat eugenics, which would mix very, very badly even in situations where there is no Clan/Housecat conflict. Unless it was completely dominant and always passed on but... you see how it's already an uncomfortable idea I'd have to tack on a bunch of bandaids to.

Sometimes a thought remains just a thought exactly because you end up thinking through its implications, y'know?

[arolesbianism]

Also let it be known I have made several rainworld ocs already and have like 3 full campaigns in my head for them mapped out in my head

[himasgod]

ANGST Ayato Kamisato x Reader

At the end of the day, you will never be his priority.

0.6k words :p

In the dim light of the Kamisato Estate, silence reigned with an unbearable weight. The moonlight timidly filtered through the windows, barely illuminating the figure of Kamisato Ayato, sitting at his messy desk. All around him, official documents piled up, completely ignored. From the darkest corner of the room, you watched him, noticing how his usual calm and calculating demeanor slowly crumbled.

"You should rest," you said softly, knowing it was useless. You had learned, after so many years at his side, that Kamisato Ayato was not a man who allowed himself the luxury of resting when there were problems to be solved.

Without even looking up from the papers, Ayato let out a silent sigh. "The Kamisato clan cannot afford to rest," he replied, his voice low but firm. You knew what those words implied. The weight of the clan, the pressure of the shogunate, and the responsibility of maintaining the stability of the Yashiro Commission crushed him. And in that context, you were barely a shadow in his life.

You approached slowly, trying to find a way to reach him. But as you placed your hand on his shoulder, Ayato tensed, pulling away from your touch as if it were a reminder of something he couldn’t afford to have. You knew he loved you; you saw it in the brief glances you shared in stolen moments, in the way his voice softened when he spoke to you. But that wasn’t enough for him. Ayato had always prioritized his duty, and you… you were just a distraction in his life full of obligations.

“You know you can’t keep going like this,” you whispered, your voice cracking. But he wouldn’t look at you. Commissioner Yashiro could never show weakness, not even in front of you.

“I can’t stop now,” he replied, his tone sharp as a sword. “The clan needs stability. My sister, my people… It all depends on me.”

The mention of Ayaka made your heart ache. You had seen the devotion Ayato felt for his sister, and you understood it. But it also made you realize that, try as you might, you could never really take a place in his life. Not in the way you needed. He was wedded to his duty, and you were just a footnote in his complicated story.

“And what about me?” Finally, the words you had been afraid to say slipped from your lips. A deathly silence fell over the room. Ayato’s eyes, cold and calculating, rose to look at you, but there was no immediate response. Silence was your only answer.

“You can’t just cast me aside forever,” you whispered. “I’m not a burden you can just shrug off whenever it suits you. I’m not one of those political problems you can solve with a strategy.”

Ayato stood up then, walking towards you, but the distance between you was still overwhelming. He stopped in front of you, his usual calm expression unwavering. But in his eyes, in those blue eyes like the water of a calm lake, you could see the torment he carried within.

“It’s not that simple,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a sadness he rarely showed. “You know I love you, but… I can’t give up my responsibility. Inazuma needs peace. And the Kamisato clan… needs me to be here. Always.”

“And what about me?” you repeated, tears beginning to fill your eyes. “How much longer do you plan to keep me waiting, Ayato?”

A long silence followed your words. In the end, he simply looked away. “I don’t know how long. Maybe forever.”

It was as if those words struck you in the soul. The truth was clear: in Kamisato Ayato’s life, you would always be secondary. The love you shared was real, but not strong enough to overcome the weight of his destiny.

And then you knew: you would never be his priority

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[deansapplepie]

Period .

Summary: The one time you were glad you had your period, and the one time you weren’t.

Warnings: young Daryl (just in the first part), mentions of pregnancy, period, blood, sexual themes, mentions of creampie, mentions of impregnating, little angsty in the end. Minors do not Interact, 18+.

A/N: it was supposed to be a small drabble, but it turned out longer than I imagined. 🤭 Period is something important in the story, but the main focus is really about pregnancy.

Also, there’s no smut just little thoughts of Daryl.

The Quarry, Atlanta

You were fucked you knew you were, but so was Daryl and that was the problem. You had been dating for only a few months before the outbreak and even though your relationship was new, you knew his temper pretty well being neighbors for many years.

Your period was late, it already was when the world ended, but just a few days, so you didn’t worry about it. Now, it had been almost a month and you were worried as fuck. You tried to fake normalcy, pretend there wasn’t anything wrong. But your constant lip biting and unquiet legs denounced to the hunter how nervous you were. “Spill it.” He said.

“What?” He took you by surprise, you were so into in your mind that you didn’t even know he had been observing for the last half hour.

“There’s somethin’ worrying ya. Just say it.” He didn’t take his eyes from you as he waited for you ti say something.

“My period. It’s late. I’m worried.” You threw averting his eyes.

In his mind a million of thoughts were running, but mainly 1. why did you have to feel so amazing wrapped around him that sometimes he couldn’t just control himself and just finish inside of you? 2. why did he still used no condoms? 3. he couldn’t be a father, he didn’t have this ability.

“Just that?” He asked nonchalantly pretending it didn’t affect him. “Want me to go to town and pick a pregnancy test?”

You looked at him amused. How could he be so calm when you were panicking? Part of you were glad he wasn’t fuming in rage like you imagined he would be, but the other part was frustrated with him acting like it was nothing. “Seriously?” You gave him an incredulous look. “Don’t need to. Let’s wait a little more.” You got up and left to the lake, frustrated, fuming and just needing to calm yourself down.

Days passed and nothing happened. Until the day Daryl woke up tired of not knowing if he would have to raise a child in this fucked up world or not. When you woke up he was already brewing something on the fire, Merle with him. “I’m going to town. Want something?” He asked.

“What are you going to do in town?” You didn’t understand, you had everything. Food and hygiene supplies, what else could you need?

“I’m gonna get the thing. We already waited too much.” He seemed nervous, finally one small demonstration of feelings.

“Are ya two gonna talk in codes now?” Merle complained feeling left out.

You ignored him and replied Daryl. “Ok. Just let me go the bathroom, gonna think if we need anything else.” You left in the direction of the RV, not everyone used it, but most of you. Especially the women and the kids, Daryl and Merle preferred to go into the woods as to not get the dirty looks everyone gave them, but you were different, you were polite and would smile sometimes. Also, you got along well with Dale and the women in the camp.

You distributed ‘good mornings’ along the way and when you got to the RV you encountered Dale, Ami and Andrea having breakfast. You greeted them and excused yourself to the bathroom, and there it was… your answer. No test needed. A pool of blood on your panties. You felt wet earlier, but the last weeks you felt it many times and it was always nothing, so you didn’t mind. You were relieved. The world was pure chaos and you couldn’t imagine raising a child in it. Yet, there was an uneasy feeling inside of you.

You went back to your tent and the small fire the brothers had done. “You don’t need to go.” It was as the only thing you said.

“Ugh?” He grunted confused.

“I’m on my period.” You said, and fuck if Merle was listening.

“Were ya talking in codes because ya thought you were pregnant?” Merle almost yelled. “And you were hiding it from me? The uncle?”

“Shut up Merle, nobody needs to know, and stop complaining about an inexistent baby.” You answered mood swinging immediately. There it was, you had seen the signals, you just didn’t want to read them.

Daryl stayed silent while you went inside the tent to take clean panties, pads or tampons to change. When you came out Daryl was the same way he was before, millions of thoughts inside his head.

“Are you going to say something or are you going to pretend there wasn’t anything going on just like when I told you my worries?” You snapped, the last days you had thought over and over again about his non reaction the day you told him, and that’s not that you wanted him to have fought or screamed at you, you didn’t, but you wanted him to share his worries with you and to be able to share yours with him.

“What do ya want me to say?” He asked, dryly. “Thank God? ‘Cause I don’t believe in one. Or do you want me to say I feel really sorry ‘cause we’re not putting a child in this fucked up world?” He had snapped. You were angry at him, but at least it was a reaction of some sort.

“You’re an asshole.” You threw at him and left, he thought about retorting you with a sassy answer, but he bit his tongue.

“Ya messed bad, lil bro… ya know nothing about women. How was ya able to catch a girl like her?” Merle couldn’t contain his mouth and spoke.

“Shut up, Merle! Mind your own business!” He replied, taking his things and living grumpily.

Later that day he returned with chocolate and painkillers, which he left on your side of the sleeping bed without saying anything.

Alexandria, Virginia

You were out in the woods, close to Alexandria. You had been hunting with Daryl, your husband. Yes, your husband. So many things have changed along the years, that some times you couldn’t believe how things were different. But one thing hadn’t change, you were still reckless about sex, not that you had options to prevent a pregnancy in the end of the world.

And that was the reason you were distracted while you hunted, also the reason you were not being silent like he taught you to be and were cracking every and all stick on the way. “Wha’s the problem, sweetheart?” He stopped and turned to you.

Distracted, you continued to walk and bumped into him. “Sorry.” You looked up at him and saw concern in his eyes.

“What’s troubling ya?” He asked his hands resting on your shoulders. “And don’t try to lie, I know ya.”

You sighed. “I’m late.” You’ve been late many times during the time you and Daryl have been together, but most of the times your worries would be taken away as soon as they started to build. But that time at the quarry and now, it had been a long time.

Now he already knew what you meant, and it didn’t worry him this much anymore. To be honest, he even thought about impregnating you during the last years. It all started when his Lil Ass Kicker was born, and then how he saw you taking care of her and interacting with kids. So… he considered having kids with you many times.

“Just that?” He threw the same question back at that day in the quarry. Anger started bubbling in you and then he just stroke you with his words. “Ya shouldn’t worry. If it happens, we’ll take responsibility and do our best. It’s our baby we’re talking about.”

“Daryl… aren’t you mad? Or worried?” You looked at him disarmed now that you realized he wasn’t going to be a dick.

“If ya’re expecting, I helped making this baby and I dun think it would be so terrible the idea of having a baby made of us.” Yeah, you had all changed a lot. You didn’t know one day you could desire him even more, but just the thought of him thinking it wouldn’t be bad to have babies with you… made you want to jump on him.

“Should we grab a pregnancy test with Denise or something?” You suggested grabbing one of his hands.

“Let’s wait a little more and I take them.” He started to walk and intertwined your fingers. “Now, let’s hunt dinner.”

Daryl had finally gone on a run to find some pregnancy tests, Denise unfortunately had none. When he arrived he hoped to see you in the kitchen with Carol, but his friend was alone. She saw his confused face and she knew he was looking for you. “She’s at the bedroom. She arrived and a little while after… she didn’t look well. I think you should see her.” Carol advised him. She knew there was something upsetting you and she was almost sure of what it was, but you had said nothing to her, so she decided it was better to not push.

“Thanks, ‘m gonna check on her.” He said before he left to your shared bedroom.

After he descended the stairs to your room in the basement, he found you on bed laying on your side. He kicked his shoes off before joining you in bed. “Hey babe”

“Hey” you replied and didn’t turn to look at him.

He laid on his side, spooning you and sneaking his arm around you. He rested his hand on your lower stomach, an habit he had developed recently. He’d do it when you got your period and felt cramps, but in the last days he had done it for another reason. “Can you take your hand from there?” You asked.

“Why? Don’t ya wanna me to touch ya?” He wanted to understand what was troubling your mind.

“There’s nothing there. Just my uterus. My stupid bleeding uterus.” Here it was. He wouldn’t deny he was a little upset, he had some hope on you being pregnant. He was even excited.

“Ok. Look at me.” He turned you so you’d be facing him. You had teary eyes and a small pout on your lips. “You wanted this baby, didn’t ya?”

“Is it this obvious?” Yes, it was. It was visible on your face.

“I wanted it too.” He confessed, his fingers running on your hair.

“I’ve been wanting for a long time already… since Jude was born and I saw her in your arms. When I have Jude in my arms or little Hershel, I wish I had a baby.” While you spoke, your eyes welled with tears and they started falling.

He gently wiped your tears, he could understand your feelings in his own way, because he felt them too. “Me too. When I see you with the kids, I wish we had one.” ‘And to put a baby inside of you’, completed in his mind. “Do ya want me to give you a baby?”

Your eyes sparkled at his words, and it wasn’t just because of the tears threatening to fall again. “Would you?” You looked in his eyes and he felt like you could see his soul. But, yes… you could. You could always see him, even when he couldn’t.

“As many as ya want.” He said and the tears you were holding just bursted from your eyes. “Stop crying, I didn’t say it so you’d cry. If you continue to cry, I’m not giving ya babies…”

“Don’t you dare Daryl Dixon! I’m crying because I’m happy, ok?” You cupped his face with your hands, making a pout appear on his face.

“Ok.” He spoke the best he could with your hands cupping his face and restraining his lips from moving. You kissed his lips and released his face.

He brought you closer and hugged you, your face hiding on his chest. He was happy. You weren’t feeling like shit anymore, you were feeling like the luckiest woman in the damn end of the world.

You were trying for babies as soon as possible. That was what he thought, a smile on his face while he held you in his arms.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

[holylulusworld]

Cabin at the lake (5)

Summary: You have a much-needed vacation. There’s only one problem…

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Assistant!Reader

Warnings: SB being an ass, tension, arguments, vacation hijacking, sexual themes (talk about), misogynism, groping, slow burn, angry reader, injured reader

A/N: Another drabble.

Cabin at the lake (4)

Cabin at the lake masterlist

Breathe in, and out. Breathe in, and out. Getting rid of Soldier Boy, not even after you called Vought, didn’t work out. If you cannot get him to leave you alone, you simply try to ignore him for the next few days.

Soldier Boy, just like any other guy, loves to bathe in attention. You made the mistake of fighting, yelling, and screaming at him. It only made him cockier.

Your change of tactic will make sure that Soldier Boy will lose interest sooner rather than later.

“There you are,” he coos while shamelessly staring at your exposed legs. You tried to get and stay away from Soldier Boy at the same time. Therefore, you sneaked out of the cabin to sit near the lake.

No such luck. Barely fifteen minutes later the nightmare on bowed legs found you. You’d love to yell at him or punch him to death. It wouldn’t change a thing. Soldier Boy would still annoy you, and you’d have more broken limbs.

“Did you take your meds?” He sits down next to you, eyes immediately drifting toward your legs. “You’re in a better mood. I bet they gave you the good stuff. Do you want to share?”

You keep on staring at the lake, ignoring he sits too close for comfort. “The silent treatment?” He laughs in your face. Nothing seems to work when it comes to him. “You know that you cannot rid of me, baby. I’m in for the long haul.”

Exhaling sharply, you try to calm your anger. Your hand still doesn’t feel better, and you don’t know for how much longer you can resist swallowing the meds like candy to endure his presence.

“You should go back inside, and lay down,” Soldier Boy moves impossibly closer. “Sitting here, in the cold is no good for your hand. I can help you relax, though.”

He smirks at you, expecting to get a reaction out of you. “You’re not man enough to help me relax,” you don’t know where your answer came from, but you’re proud of your comeback.

Soldier Boy furrows his brows. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

“If that was all,” you say as you slowly get up from the ground, “I’d love to dull the pain in my hand with some nice pills.” You dip your head to look him straight in the eyes. “The good stuff…”

He watches you with amusement. True to your words you took the pills, and boy, did they kick in. “How many did you take?” He snickers while tickling your arm with his fingertips.

“Fuck off,” you slap his hand away and turn around. “I wanna sleep. Can you not vanish?” You giggle while talking. “I hate your stupid face.” You smack your lips. “Now I’m thirsty.”

“Hmm…you’re even sexier while stoned,” he dips his knee into the mattress to get a better look at you. “You know, drugs heighten your senses. I could give you the orgasm of your life.”

“Get off,” you grumble. He can’t even let you enjoy the effect of the pills. “Fuck yourself. You’ve got big hands to rub your dick.”

“Why would I beat my meat if I have you around?” He snorts. “You shouldn’t take so many pills.” Soldier Boy moves closer to lie next to you. “I better keep a close eye on you tonight. Maybe your pussy wants some attention too.”

“Fuck—” you yawn loudly and give up. If he tries to touch you tonight, you’ll punch him with your good hand.

“Morning, drug queen,” he snickers when you begrudgingly walk inside the small kitchenette at the cabin. You hid in the bedroom for as long as your stomach allowed you to go without food. “Slept well?”

You glare at him, and huff.

“How could you not sleep well with your hero around,” he concludes and goes back to work. He slices another apple, whistling a tune. “I bet you felt safe for the first time in your life.”

“Safe. Right,” you grunt. “By the way, your doctor lied. My hand still fucking hurts, and I can’t move my fingers. He said it’ll heal within two days.”

He stops the knife to look over his shoulder. “Your hand still hurts?” For a second, he seems concerned. “You sure?”

You sneer at him. “No, I love being in pain, and I hate using both hands.” You deadpan.

“I bet you miss your hand,” he grins. “You can’t touch your sweet pussy with only one hand.”

“Dude, I can flick my pearl with both hands,” you chuckle when his eyes drift toward your crotch. “There are other things I want to do with both hands. Like strangling you.”

“I’d love to see you try,” he winks at you. “I bet you’re good at choking a guy.” Soldier Boy rams the knife into the chopping board. “Before we get to the fun, let me call the doctor. I bet they fucked something up again.”

He cleans his hands on his pants before getting his phone out of his pocket. You huff when he immediately yells at the person answering the phone.

“I want to know why her hand still hurts. No…no. It’s still fucking broken!” Soldier Boy walks out of the cabin. He’s furious, and you wonder why…

Part 6

Tags in reblog.

[currentfandomkick]

Hey so, masterlist here pt 4 of who knows how long. Angst below.

Danny was going to die. Again.

Thats the only answer to being pulled toward the lake.

“Get away from my son spook!”

The shot was far off. At least Dad tried. so did last dad. Still failed. PressureNoAirwhywhywhy

Taco clung harder and may as well be in his bones as he was flung through the air in the ectopus’ grasp.

Mom tried, but Topo pulled him into the ground. And kept going.

pressure-thickwater-noair. Noairnoairnoair.

He was thrashing. Taco didnt care. Only that it had him.

He Hates Taco, and will devour many in retribution. Later. When he gets out and is /saaaafe/

He thinks(?) they made it to the lake. He. He stopped processing things underground with the no breathing problem.

And began breathing wrongWrongWRONG

His lungs were not doing that for him, and his neck was working different and he /hatehatehated/ it.

Someone(Val) got a good shot in and Taco let him go.

His eyes Burned Green and he. Hey was floating in the air heaving water out of his lungs and shaking.

Red rubbed his back and didn’t ask about the green eyes.

“Danny, you good in there?”

“M, mayb, be.” He took a a few more breaths, letting Red drive him somewhere else.

“So, contamination got worse? Or are the eyes new?”

He could only manage a broken chuckle. “The g, gils are n, new. S, so was the t,tail.”

Val nodded in her gear and dropped him off to homesafecaredloved Mom and Dad.

“Danny, are you okay?”

Danny tried to smile. It came out wrong.

“Oh my baby,” Mom continued as she moved Danny about. “What happened?”

“Ph,Phantom g,got me o,out,” danny began. “C,can we go home?”

His parents nodded. “C,can i hav(e),ve one of,f the F,Fenton f,force f,fields?”

“Of course champ, we’re gonna keep you that spook as far from you as possible.”

Danny leaned against his parents. He just, he had gils. He may be turning into a merman or something.

He just wants his mom and dad. Is that too much?

Other parts here.

Tags @skulld3mort-1fan @theizzyof3malec3 @brattysleepyreader @sebas-nights @elidaweirdotaku0520 @bianca-hooks123 @the-autistic-spider @laurcad123

[leona-hawthorne]

I HATE IT HERE / mattheo riddle

drabble

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: in which mattheo is an artist in a businessman’s world… inspired by ‘i hate it here’ by taylor swift!

warnings: swearing

words: 905

a/n: the tortured poets department is really just on repeat 24/7. dare i say… her saddest album? anyways, i love the headcanon that mattheo loves to draw so i thought this would be sweet <3

navigation mattheo riddle masterlist

Overhearing crunchy footsteps walking through the fallen autumn leaves, Mattheo snaps his sketchbook shut in fear that some random person would accidentally see his innermost thoughts. He’d been drawing by the Black Lake like he usually did when the voices in his head got too loud. Normally, no one else came out here to bother him, but it appeared that today was unlucky.

“Mattheo?” Oh, it was you who was coming to bother him. Guess his day wasn’t so unlucky, after all.

Taking a seat beside him with your back resting against the large tree behind you, you turn your head to look at him and place a kiss on his cheek.

“Did you just get bored or did something happen that made you feel the need to come out here?” You ask, looking down to watch as he mindlessly intertwines your fingers with his.

“How’d you even know I was here?”

“Answer my question.”

”Fine. Both.” He answers, his voice sounding strained as if he’d had the most tiring day of his life.

“You know I’m here to listen, right?” Trying to add to the reassurance, you give his hand a little squeeze. He sighs.

“I don’t wanna burden you. You’re always listening to my fucking problems.”

You can almost physically feel your heart clench at his words. Your sweet boy could never be a burden to you and frankly, it hurt to know that he thought of himself in that way.

“Talk to me.” Your tone is soft but there's something in your voice that makes it clear you aren’t leaving until he tells you everything.

“I just had a really fucking bad day.” He admits in a dismissive voice, as if it’s no big deal, like you shouldn’t worry about him. “And when I was in Potions, some people started talking about what they’re gonna do after they graduate.”

Your brows furrow and you nod in understanding as you let that sink in. It’s never been a secret that Mattheo didn’t exactly know what he was going to do after school ended, but you didn’t realize how badly that fact got to his head.

“That bothered you?” The answer to that question is obvious but still, there was an underlying need to ask it.

“Yes!” He snaps, his eyes burning with uncertainty and he takes a breath to calm himself before continuing. “It was all ‘I’m gonna be a Ministry worker,’ or ‘I’m gonna be an auror,’ or ‘teacher’ or whatever and I just… God, Y/n, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

You wanted nothing more than to help him, but you simply couldn’t. It’s not like anything you could say would miraculously make him realize what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

“Everything is so… dull and monochromatic. I don’t want to live in a world where I work 9 to 5 everyday in a cubicle. I just…. I hate it here.”

The mere possibility of living such a tight scheduled, boring, small life suffocated him every minute of everyday. He wanted more. He wanted to see the world, he wanted to be creative, he wanted to bring his dreams to fruition. He refused to become part of the system.

He was an artist at heart. Not many people knew that about him, but you did. He was lucky enough to be born with the ability to extract inspiration from anything in his sights. You, his friends, a song, an animal, architecture. Shit, even a random stranger he meets on the street could get the gears in his beautifully intricate mind to start turning.

Mattheo couldn't go ten minutes without feeling the urge to dump his thoughts onto a blank canvas. Talking wasn’t enough, he needed to create, he needed to use his hands.

His innovation is one of his best traits, one of your favorite things about him, and the idea of him ever giving it up was truly devastating. Taking a good while to think of what to say, you fidget around with his fingers in your hand.

“There’s so much out there, Mattheo. You don't need to conform to what the world wants you to do. I mean come on, you’ve never been one to follow the rules anyway.” You tell him.

“What am I gonna do?” He murmurs as he looks out at the lake, his voice filled with a deep sense of yearning.

“I don’t know. But I’ll be here to help you figure it out. I’ll be here with you for the rest of your life, if you’ll have me.” You whisper as he leans his head on your shoulder, his curls tickling the crook of your neck.

He scoffs, tightening his grip on your hand and snuggling his head deeper into your neck. “Are you stupid? Why would that even be a question? No dreams are worth living out if you’re not in them.”

“Good. ‘Cause you’re not getting rid of me.” You lean your head onto his. “I hate it here too but… It’s not so bad when you’re with me. Can I see what you were drawing?”

With an embarrassed blush flushing his cheeks, he hands you his sketchbook and you open up to the most recent page to find an extremely detailed illustration of… you.

Quick, quick

Tell me something awful

Like you are a poet

Trapped inside the body of a finance guy…

— Taylor Swift

[sguidwards-bestfriend]

Dp x dc thoughts and stuff

New Dimension, Who's This?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Okay okay wait what if ghosts sort of feed off their own energy supply or like humans make our own blood they make their own ecto.

But Danny is a halfa.

Maybe he doesn't make any or just not in his human form. So when his powers use it up he has to find a way to get more.

In Amity that isn't really a problem, but if he's not in Amity? If he's not even in his dimension?

...

Danny is king, he has been for a few years now. Lets say he's 20 something and he's still learning his og powers as well as his new kingly eldritch ones.

He makes a portal, goes in to check it out, and gets stuck when he doesn't have enough juice to make another one to go back.

Portals aren't simple, even a portal for something human at a lower power level needs a lot to make a portal in their own dimension.

Creating one for an eldritch being, the king of the infinite realms, to another dimension requires an insane amount of energy. so he's stuck... somewhere, with no energy source. Transforming back into something vaguely human looking is taxing so he sits on the ground to take stock. The extra arms, paper white skin and hair, and the many ever shifting eyes are gone, but he can still feel the fangs and pointy ears, his crown shrunk down to a broach keeping a cape in place, it's covered in a frost so cold the fabric around it crystalizes, and his clothing is an odd mix of ghostly regalia and a black hoodie. It doesn't look bad, but he doesn't know how this dimension works just yet and he doubts this will help him "fit in".

Thankfully invisibility and intangibility come so naturally to him it's just the switch that requires ecto, similar to transforming, once he's there that's where he'll stay.

He needs to find a power source, wherever it is he's ended up, so he goes looking. He finds Lazarus pits but they aren't bottomless like the lakes in the zone. Some are like a dripping faucet, sure it'll fill back up at some point but who knows how long that'll take. Others were artificial, someone ripped a hole between realities, probably a small one since the leftover feeling of a portal wasn't there.

Danny stays invisible for nearly 2 months as he searches for a way home, time can act differently between dimensions, in Amity he might be gone an hour or a decade. The best thing to do for now is to get in contact with Clocky and hope they can figure it out together.

While emptying another pit he hears an angry man yell "You said this one wasn't empty."

An obviously nervous voice answers, "It was full this morning, Sir."

"This is the last one we have any record of!" there's a crash that intrigues Danny so he pops above the surface to catch a glimpse.

His stomach falls when he sees a Vlad looking fruit loop tearing apart a makeshift lab in a cave. Equipped with the same ridicules cape and beard.

There is a woman sitting on a folding chair, her legs are crossed and she very obviously is done with whatever fruit loop 2.0 is doing.

He was expecting to find more than 4! If that's the last of the leaks he needs to find another source asap.

"We can head to Gotham." the woman says, still uninterested as she pulls at a thread on her sleeve. "That place has always been a cesspool for everything weird."

"Nyssa." the man takes a breath, no longer yelling he continues, "We've tried that."

The woman stands, she looks scarier calm than the fruitloop does angry. "No, we tried to find one. We couldn't search there cuz of the bats, but if there are a few diversions we could get enough equipment into the sewers and we'd continue our search unnoticed."

Danny doesn't care much about the rest, he needs to get to Gotham before they do. He just needs to find where that is.

...

Jason Todd came back from the dead a few years ago. [We can leave him at around 23, idk what age he was when Talia plopped him into the pits.]

He's angry ALL the time, it fogs his mind so much it feels like he's no longer in control of his body. He knows he nearly killed one of his brothers, possibly two, but they ignore it so he does too.

He hasn't seen his family much since he was... brought back. As always, something pushes him to take action when he would rather not.

This time it's a rumor amongst his lackeys about someone planning on killing Redhood. They don't know he and Red are the same person, so he was planning on leaving the helmet at a safe house and sticking around to give orders and keep an eye on things.

That plan falls through when a group of three come up to him, they think he spends the most amount of time with the boss and want to keep their leader safe, but don't feel they have that kind of relationship with him to show how worried they are. They push Jason to take Redhood and hide.

His way of doing things creates a pretty even playing field amongst the lackeys, other than Redhood himself. If he refuses he's not a team player, if he tries to advise against it they'll think he's the one trying to kill his own alter ego.

He has to go somewhere none of his enemies know of, but also where none of his allies know.

That's how he's ended up being shuffled into the manor by Alfred, duffle bag in his arm and a headache so horrendous it's hard to understand what Alfred is saying.

~

Jason had been at the manor for two weeks, in that time he'd heard of two territory fights by crime alley, someone emptying the Lazarus pits around the world, and the assassination attempt on him hasn't played out yet.

He was going insane with his family on him at all times. No matter what he did someone was with him.

He knew telling them he felt ill and didn't want to hurt an innocent if the rage took over wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't think of one that would work as well to get them on his side.

That meant, however, that he wouldn't be able to go out on patrol at all nor leave the manor alone.

Damian, of all of them, was the one that helped him. He still acted like the spoiled brat he always was, but he'd grown. He was calmer, not by much, but it took him longer to be set off than he used to.

It wasn't hard to convince him not to say anything, he still knew his brother after all he came prepared. An intricate knife from 15th century china he nabbed off a man with a sword collection that could rival Damians and a story of wanting to get back his cat that he had to leave at his main safe house was all it took to get Damian to agree.

With his needed entertainment (books and videogames), his cat stuffed inside his jacket (which yes, Emma did exist), and ice cream; they were making their way back to the manor at dusk. Jason froze, someone something was following them.

"Dami, do you have your sensor turned on."

"Of course I do." he puffed out his chest and stopped to push back his sleeve.

"Don't stop walking, check what's to my left." the building was boarded up. It hadn't been like that last time he was here.

"Don't tell me what to do." Damian caught up with him before adding, "The building has no electricity or anything in it, but it's weirdly cold."

Just as they both look over to the building something phases through the boarded up window. "Run, now!"

As they take off towards the manor the creature follows them. He can't hear it, no footsteps, no heartbeat, no breathing, but he can feel it. And he wants to fight it.

"It's still following us." Damian whisper yelled. then Damian answered a question he didn't ask. "We're half a mile from the manor, on the road with the ice-cream shop."

"You have your com on?" His need to fight this thing only grew.

"Just with Tim. We should never have them fully off, something could happen."

Of course, he knew that, he suffered those consequences. He was probably the reason it was so enforced... and why it was followed.

Suddenly the roaring of an engine and a black car with all it's doors open comes racing down the road. Damian jumps in first, with Emma stuffed in his jacket he can't just throw himself in so he chucks his games and slides in feet first, hugging his chest to keep her safe.

The doors shut and the car speeds off past the entrance to the manor.

The winding roads should have shook the creature off their trail. It's not long before the car takes them down a secret entrance to the bat cave.

There's yelling before he's even out of the car.

"You could have got hurt!" Tim is yelling at him, "I don't care who you think you are, you put our brother in danger!" The rage starts back up, he was here first, he was the one who could protect Dami not him.

"Timmothy I fight crime."

Tim swivels on his heels, "That thing wasn't human. How would you have fought it exactly?"

Jason can feel himself being engulfed in it again, he's vision going green and his whole body tensing. "Listen here replacement."

"I am not!" Tim turns back around, the steam in him vanishes when he looks at Jason's face.

"Boys," a calm voice echoes through the cave. "No fighting in the cave. Go up stairs to breath or finish outside."

Jason ignores Tim and Dami as he walks to the elevator. He can't look at Alfred, can't let him see him like this.

Once out from behind the bookcase he lets Emma down gently, then flops onto the couch. If they know what's good for them they'll find another way up.

They don't apparently and all three walk out the same exit, bickering.

The noise erases the effort he'd made to quite the pits, as he stands to shut them up the creature floats up through the table.

A terrifying creature with long teeth, pointy ears, long curved nails and a cap hiding a thin hunched figure leans towards him. As he jumps away the thing grabs him and latches on.

Jason tries to shake it off, but it's almost like it's stuck to him. Not physically, but there is something holding them together and it's not the creature.

Suddenly a bright light flashes and the creature turns onto a young man.

"Why's the ecto in this dimension so shit." It... he looks tired, there are bags under his eyes and his skin looks sickly. He's draped over Jason, at first he thought the man was holding Jason in place, but it seemed more like he was holding himself up.

Tim stopped in his tracks. "What the fuck?"

"Language."

"Sorry Alf, but uh... What's happening?"

The man mumbled something, he rested his head on Jason's shoulder, he could see the effort it took to speak louder. "I'm so hungry dude. Why are you the only liminal person I've come across? It makes no sense."

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

[be-missed]

Bad for Business

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(picture not mine)

Summary: After receiving a text message from her manager, what would Jenna do? Will she and Y/N can still fix their friendship?

Warning/s: curse words.

A/N: Part 3, thanks for waiting, noticed you liked this one. Emma Myers is the Emma. Also, give me a name for Y/N's best friend, please.

Masterlist

Cool About It (Part 1) | Nothing To Lose (Part 2)

______________________________________________________________

Jenna is currently sitting on the sofa on her manager's office.

"What is your problem Jenna? You have invited a big crowd and thank heavens we don't need to delete much picture from the both of you because they were so surprised from what you did. We only have a few twitter and tiktok accounts that still post what happened." Jenna's manager told her as he seats in front of the girl.

"I'm sorry..."

The only words that came out from Jenna's mouth ever since she was brought by her manager from Y/N's unit to the office, because inside her head, she goes back to the moment where Y/N admitted her feelings. She could've react differently instead of being silent, she could've agreed to Y/N and talk to her, or maybe she can kiss Y/N to prove that she also wants to kiss the girl, or maybe just maybe, she doesn't pull the shit from the park and just watched a movie.

There are so many 'what if's' and 'could've been' that's running inside Jenna's mind not until the voice of her manager removed her from her thoughts.

"Do you understand? We just need you to follow what we said and we will be alright" Jenna's manager said and looked at her intently, looking like he will never take a no for an answer.

Jenna then just nodded her head and quietly said "yes."

Jenna's team was now fixing the table and the papers that were scattered on the table not until Jenna broke the chaos "Please don't contact Y/N anymore. I don't need you in her business." She said and looked intently to her team, and directed it to her manager.

A long pause was given, half-heartedly, her manager nodded. That made Jenna feal at ease somehow, because she doesn't want Y/N to get stress about this issue, it is all her fault anyway.

Even though Jenna doesn't quite remember what are the rules that her manager and her team gave her, she just go with it, because it's normally lesser public appearance, lesser use of her social media, and sadly, lesser meet-ups with Y/N. She thinks she can handle it, because in a few week, she'll be back to filming Wednesday S2 and just will be facetiming Y/N. If Y/N will answer, she thinks.

---

Jenna was now in her bedroom, tired after the long night that she had. Fumbling with her phone, thinking if she should text Y/N and ask her about what happened, Jenna was pulled out from her thoughts by a facetime call, it is Emma.

"I WAS RIGHT" Emma said, "I WAS RIGHT YOU LIED TO ME, HOW COULD YOU?"

Jenna was stunned because what the fuck is Emma talking about, she have no idea, "What are you talking about?" Jenna asked with full curiosity.

"You and your long time friend who owns the coffee shop inside the studio is dating!" Emma exclaimed like stating the truth, Jenna then replied "No, no, what do you mean?"

"Like bestie, your proposal in the lake is all over the internet right now, I should congratulate you, or not I guess" Emma stated as she started to send screenshots to Jenna from twitter to tiktok. Jenna then shakes her head "No, this can't be, my team deleted all the pictures and articles about this." Jenna was slightly panicking because she thought that her team have deleted any pictures and articles from the proposal.

"I'll call you later I promise, bye" Jenna ended the call without giving Emma a chance to reply and reactivated her twitter account just to see what Emma is talking about, and the other girl was right, the both of you are trending.

In her search list, the words that was associated to the both of you are I knew it, dumbass, and Her loss.

She saw tweets like stating that they knew it from the start that Jenna and Y/N was in a relationship, another tweet said that Y/N was dumb to reject Jenna, and some were begging Jenna that if she proposed to them they will say 'yes'. But Jenna thought, they are not Y/N, they are not the person that she likes.

After opening Twitter, she went straight to tiktok and search her name, which is probably not the right thing to do but she wants to see what people say to you, the last thing that she wants is for the general public to hate you and blame you.

And with that, almost all of the videos of Jenna and Y/N are edited with the song Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift. Captions in the videos are quoting the lyrics from "You won't remember all her Champagne Problems" to "I can patch up the tapestry that she shred." She also saw some comments in the video saying "she's fucked in the head" pertaining to Y/N.

That broke her, why are you getting all the hate if it is all her fault? You don't deserve this madness that she brought to your life because all you did was to bring her sunshine and be the silver lining to every dark cloud that she had. You were right, she thought.

Jenna then calls her manager and he answered fast "I thought you all deleted the pictures and the news? What happened now?" Jenna said full in rage, angry for what the public is labeling you as, "I thought you agreed?" Her manager replied "We would not delete the pictures and the news, but we would let it grow, we can handle it anyways, we just need to get Y/N out of the picture and make sure that she will not be part of any narrative. That woman is bad for business Jenna, we're telling you."

That stunned Jenna, all the time that they were talking inside the office she was so occupied with thoughts of you that she fucking agreed with this shit where you are scrutinized. Jenna then starts to cry and ended the call. What she did next will probably make her manager more angry with her.

She went out of her bedroom, grab her coat, grab her keys, ride her car, and drove to your apartment.

---

Currently in your apartment, you are with you best friend trying to read all the shit that was thrown into you in the internet. You told her the whole story and she thought that was a shit move for Jenna, because not only her manager hated you, but now, almost all of the people in the world hated you.

"I told you Y/N it was a bad idea to go that day didn't I?" your best friend told you proving a point but you can't even focus on her voice because you were so drowned out with your own thoughts that was coming in like a flood.

Your best friend kept on talking and talking until they noticed that you were just spacing out and sat next to you and pulled you in a hug which you gladly melt in to, "I'm sorry this is happening, I didn't mean to blame you, but your friend is fucking shit."

A knock to your door was heard which your best friend gladly attend to. Opening the door they were so stunned for seeing who is in the other side, Jenna.

"What do you need?" your best friend tells Jenna, which she answered "I need to talk to Y/N please." Your best friend just looked at Jenna not until your voice was heard from the inside telling that Jenna should come in.

"You have the guts to show up here, make this right." Your best friend threatens Jenna and left the apartment leaving you and Jenna alone.

"I'm sorry" Jenna started, looking at your back. You tap the empty space beside you and that is where Jenna is walking to, seating beside you.

"I wanna blame you for everything Jenna." Y/N blurted out, not facing Jenna, "I wanna blame you for everything that is happening right now." Y/N lets out a heavy sigh.

Jenna answered "I know, I know, and I'm sorry, I should be the one who gets to be blamed, I don't know what to say, I'm really just sorry and I wanted to tell that you were right." Jenna is now trying to stop the tears from falling while she looks at you, "Y/N please, look at me, just tell me what to do for you to forgive me, I'll do it, please" Jenna begs.

Y/N looked at Jenna with so much pain in her eyes, "be gone."

Seconds have passed, Jenna was too stunned to even speak, still processing what you said.

"No, Y/N please no, this can't be" Jenna said, "This was what your manager wanted in the first place, he wanted me out of the picture ever since you blow up. I don't fucking blame him for that because who am I, right? But this is not the way I imagined it" Y/N looked so defeated in Jenna's eyes. Y/N was willing to give up their friendship, even if it's not what she wants.

"No, that's not gonna happen Y/N, you are my best friend and I can't just leave you hanging, getting all the scrutiny from the media, from the public. This is entirely my fault, please, don't ask me to leave." Jenna plead, because that was the last thing that Jenna wats to do, to leave you.

"Jenna we can't be friends okay, don't you understand? You leaving me would benefit the both of us; it will benefit you since there will be one less problem to your management and it will benefit me because it can possibly help me to move on from you." Y/N said with a sad smile.

"Move on? The hell are you saying? There will be no moving on for you because..." Jenna said, making Y/N confused "because I like you too. I like you too, just like how you like me Y/N."

Y/N laughed "Stop with the pity Jenna, I know you are sorry but you don't need to tell me that you like me to give me a proper closure."

"No, but I'm not lying Y/N, I swear to God, I like you too and I'm just too scared to admit it to myself because I got so scared for what will happen to me, to us, to our friendship." Jenna said, trying to convince Y/N, but Y/N won't budge and just shakes her head.

"Jenna it's okay, you don't need to lie, I understand" Y/N said standing up from the sofa.

"But you don't understand Y/N, I like you, for real, without a doubt. Even before this shit happened, even before that dinner in our house, that night stroll in K-town, the first picture of us from the public, even before my manager knew you; I liked you since then" Jenna said standing up and getting a hold of your hand.

Y/N started to shake her head and retracted her hands from Jenna's hold "This can't be Jenna" Jenna then answered "How can you not believe that I like you Y/N."

"Because I'm just me Jenna, I'm just me and you're you. I mean, you can find someone who's better than me and who will be good for your name, but I'm just me Jenna" Y/N explained.

"But that's it Y/N, I like you because you are you, and I wouldn't want to like anyone because they are not you," Jenna said and continued "Please just tell me what can I do, please."

Y/N sat on the far side of the sofa, her mind twirling with the words that came out from Jenna's mouth. She's very glad that Jenna likes her back, but the damage was done, the media hates her, Jenna's manager hates her, and the public hates her. But most importantly, Jenna hurt her.

"I honestly don't know Jenna" Y/N confessed "You hurt me, and I don't know what to do. The public also despise me, and your manager hates me."

Jenna then kneels beside Y/N and said "I know, I know. I'm gonna tell you how sorry I am and I will apologize until you forgive me but I also know that it isn't enough for you to forgive me. The damage is big and let me just think of a way to handle it. As for my manager, let me just think again." and chuckled looking at you.

Y/N knows to herself that a simple apology from Jenna will make all the pain go away, but this is different, Jenna really hurts Y/N's feelings.

Y/N gave a sad smile to Jenna which Jenna gave back, she rested her head at Y/N's thigh and dropped a light kiss on her knees. Y/N tried to relax in the seat and puts her hand on Jenna's hair and caress it that makes the other girl relax too.

Minutes of silence have passed until Jenna bounced between Y/N's thighs and opened her camera.

"What are you doing?" Y/N asked Jenna and the other girl answered "I'm gonna do something. You just need to stay still, okay?"

Jenna puts her phone down, directed to your indoor slippers since the both of you decided to buy a matching indoor slippers because "it's cute", and captures it.

It surprised Y/N "Okay, what the fuck was that for?" Jenna then answered Y/N "Since my management is not dropping any statement and I didn't sign any contract to get you out of my life, I will be the one to make an announcement."

Y/N questionably looked at Jenna, not sure on what Jenna will do with the picture, not until Y/N saw Jenna opened her Instagram account.

"Jenna, NO." Y/N said while trying to get Jenna's phone, but Jenna knows that Y/N will gonna do so Jenna pushed Y/N away from her and starts to type.

Y/N then surrender, both of her hands up in the air and said "Okay, I'm not gonna get your phone, but please just tell me what you're doing."

Jenna then situated her phone between the both of them and made Y/N read what she typed.

With a surprised look Y/N said "Are you fucking insane? Are you sure? What the hell are you thinking?"

"Please trust me on this." Jenna said with a smile and Y/N just nodded and answered "This doesn't mean I forgive you" and Jenna bring her phone down and looked at Y/N directly and said "I know, I will do my best to earn your forgiveness and trust me back, I just hope you still love me then."

And that made you smile, because you know in your heart, you will always love Jenna, "I will promise to love you" Y/N answered with a small smile.

---

In his office, Jenna's manager was reading what Jenna posted and it is a picture of Jenna and someone's feet, but boy does he know who it belongs

After seeing the post, Jenna's manager can feel the nerve on his right lobe pulsated with what he saw. Because what the fuck is this?

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Thanks for waiting, I hope this satiated you all. Just play nice with the ig post please. I feel like I'm gonna have a headache, lol. I also don't know if I tagged the right people, I'm sorry.

People who wants to be tagged (I hope I get to tag you all):

@lilbitdepressed27 @jusnough @stalinf @mirage018 @geed-3 @atlafanforlife @adam-malkov @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths @canvascoloredin

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Middlemen without enshittification

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me next in SALT LAKE CITY (Feb 21, Weller Book Works) and SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA, Seattle, Portland, Phoenix and more!

Enshittification describes how platforms go bad, which is also how the internet goes bad, because the internet is made of platforms, which is weird, because platforms are intermediaries and we were promised that the internet would disintermediate the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

The internet did disintermediate a hell of a lot of intermediaries – that is, "middlemen" – but then it created a bunch more of these middlemen, who coalesced into a handful of gatekeepers, or as the EU calls them "VLOPs" (Very Large Online Platforms, the most EU acronym ever).

Which raises two questions: first, why did so many of us end up flocking to these intermediaries' sites, and how did those sites end up with so much power?

To answer the first question, I want you to consider one of my favorite authors: Crad Kilodney (RIP):

https://archive.org/details/thecradkilodneypapers

When I was growing up, Crad was a fixture on the streets of Toronto. All through the day and late into the evening, winter or summer, Crad would stand on the street with a sign around his neck ("Very famous Canadian author, buy my books, $2" or sometimes just "Margaret Atwood, buy my books, $2"). He wrote these deeply weird, often very funny short stories, which he edited, typeset, printed, bound and sold himself, one at a time, to people who approached him on the street.

I had a lot of conversations with Crad – as an aspiring writer, I was endlessly fascinated by him and his books. He was funny, acerbic – and sneaky. Crad wore a wire: he kept a hidden tape recorder rolling in his coat and he secretly recorded conversations with people like me, and then released a series of home-duplicated tapes of the weirdest and funniest ones:

https://archive.org/details/on-the-street-crad-kilodney-vol-1

I love Crad. He deserves more recognition. There's an on-again/off-again documentary about his life and work that I hope gets made some day:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/09/free-sample/#putrid-scum

But – and this is the crucial part – there are writers out there I want to hear from who couldn't do what Crad did. Maybe they can write books, but not edit them. Or edit them, but not typeset them. Or typeset, but not print. Or print, but not spend the rest of their lives standing on a street-corner with a "PUTRID SCUM" sign around their neck.

Which is fine. That's why we have intermediaries. I like booksellers (I was one!). I like publishers. I like distributors. I like their salesforce, who go forth and convince the booksellers of the world to stock books like mine. I have ten million things I want to do before I die, and I'm already 52, and being a sales-rep for a publisher isn't on my bucket list. I am so thankful that someone else wants to do this for me.

That's why we have intermediaries, and why disintermediation always leads to some degree of re-intermediation. There's a lot of explicit and implicit knowledge and specialized skill required to connect buyers and sellers, creators and audiences, and other sides of two-sided markets. Some producers can do some of this stuff for themselves, and a very few – like Crad – can do it all, but most of us need some help, somewhere along the way. In the excellent 2022 book Direct, Kathryn Judge lays out a clear case for all the good that middlemen can do:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/direct-the-problem-of-middlemen/

So why were we all so anxious for disintermediation back in the late 1990s? Here's a hint: it wasn't because we hated intermediaries – it was because we hated powerful intermediaries.

The point of an intermediary is to serve as a conduit between producers and consumers, buyers and sellers, audiences and creators. When an intermediary gains power over the audience – say, by locking them inside a walled garden – and then uses that lock-in to screw producers and appropriate an ever larger share of the value going between them, that's when intermediaries become a problem.

The problem isn't that someone will handle ticketing for your gig. The problem is that Ticketmaster has locked down all the ticketing, and the venues, and the promotions, and it uses that power to gouge fans and rip off artists:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/20/anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-will-eventually-stop/

The problem isn't that there's a well-made website that lets you shop for goods sold by many small merchants and producers. It's that Amazon has cornered this market, takes $0.51 out of every dollar you spend there, and clones and destroys any small merchant who succeeds on the platform:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

The problem isn't that there's a website where you can stream most of the music ever recorded. It's that Spotify colludes with the Big Three labels to rip off artists and sneaks crap you don't want to hear into your stream in order to collect payola:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

The problem isn't that there's a website where you can buy any audiobook you want. It's that Amazon's Audible locks every book to its platform forever and steals hundreds of millions of dollars from creators:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

The problem, in other words, isn't intermediation – it's power. The thing that distinguishes a useful intermediary from an enshittified bully is power. Intermediaries gain power when our governments stop enforcing competition law. This lets intermediaries buy each other up and corner markets. Once they've formed cozy cartels, they can capture their regulators and commit rampant labor, privacy and consumer violations with impunity. That capture also lets them harness governments to punish smaller players that want to free workers, creators, audiences and customers from walled gardens. It also hands them a whip-hand over their workers, so that any worker who refuses to aid in these nefarious plans can be easily fired:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

A world with intermediaries is a better world. As much as I love Crad Kilodney's books, I wouldn't want to live in a world where the only books on my shelves came from people prepared to stand on a street-corner wearing a "FOUL PUS FROM DEAD DOGS" sign.

The problem isn't intermediaries – it's powerful intermediaries. That's why the world's surging antitrust movement is so exciting: by reinstating competition law, we can keep intermediaries small and comparatively weak, so that creators and audiences, drivers and riders, sellers and buyers, and other groups seeking to connect will not find themselves made subservient to middlemen.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#intermediation

[whetstonefires]

Do you have any opinions on Scholomance?

I do! I like it a lot. I really enjoyed all three books, blitzed through them easily and was much more excited to see how the plots unfolded than I'm used to these days, as a jaded adult, and I also really appreciated them as works of craft.

Especially the first one, I spent the whole time being all 'wow!' at how simple it was. So easy to read, but no waste. You really need to know what you're doing, to get that kind of pared-down elegance of form to work and still fit so much content in.

Like these are dense, there's a fantastic stylistic minimalism that allows El's character all the space it needs to breathe by making absolutely every other thing and person in the whole novel also do character work for her, which is exactly where the first person voice shines.

Also great use of character perspective to make the pacing feel really natural, so the fact that the first book takes three weeks, the second book takes one year, and the third book is like. Five or so incredibly stressful days spread out over the course of a few weeks? Doesn't feel imbalanced.

I actually got distracted from the story a few times by noticing the strength of Novik's technique. 😂 This is a me problem, in itself it's the opposite of distracting. Very low-profile.

I think the Scholomance is a great example of how far you can go in specfic when you aren't cringing from the label 'derivative,' because the Scholomance books feel very fresh ad clean specifically because nothing in them is concerned with standing out as 'original,' whatever that's supposed to mean, only with being well-executed and suitable to its task.

Hm, maybe that's where Liesel was born, the intersection of the efficient narrative style and the vast proportion of the story that concerns the maximization of utility and the instrumentalization of persons by themselves and others, and the forces that incentivize these behaviors. Or maybe she's just the narrative counterweight to Orion 'Head Empty' Lake lmao. How's that for a principle of balance, Galadriel?

I really did enjoy how beautifully it was laid out, over and over, in dozens of shades of humanity, how no matter where you go in an exploitative system almost everyone is being driven by the same survival instincts.

Because I don't think I've ever seen made so cleanly clear why you just can't expect any person or small group of people, no matter their level of goodwill or status, to unmake one of these systems from the inside; how it's not a matter of people being bad but of every single person being very...small.

And then not retreating into the idea of a person who is Big coming and breaking the cruel system from the outside as some kind of panacea, because 1) that is terrible, even if it's necessary and done in the best way possible and 2) that's not a sustainable answer to anything. Getting a balance between the protagonist being able to effect change and not subscribing to the great man theory of history can be really tricky!

Also did I mention, I love El, and I love most of the cast, even the dreadful ones. How am I going around with this many feelings about Li Shanfeng who doesn't appear until the actual climax?

The romance murdered me a bit, but it took up no more space than it absolutely needed to do its job, and I respect that. Also I appreciated Orion as a love interest; Novik has a slight record at this point of a version of that style of male love interest who's like a caricature of Mr. Darcy but old, which was shaping up to be my least favorite thing about her body of work.

...Orion is kind of like if you took the human king from Spinning Silver and gave him an alignment flip come to think of it, so he's not coming out of nowhere. Lmao.

Which reminds me (re: romance character typing) I've heard Novik didn't want it to be known she was astolat, which this series has renewed my sympathies if so. Because if I were a published novelist I wouldn't want people going 'you know, that resolution was really emotionally satisfying! reminds me of that fic she wrote where optimus prime and megatron get stuck in a hole underground and hatefuck about it.'

I don't even like Transformers. That fic almost made me cry. Actually I suspect it reads better if you don't like Transformers because I'm sure it does not give a shit about canon.

Anyway, whoever pointed out that one of the things El has going on is she's Enoby (and we're going to sit down and explore what the true reason to put your middle finger up at preps is, and what are some constructive ways to channel that socioeconomic wrath, and what it means that there is no ethical consumption under capitalism) was right and I'm not entirely over that either.

Fucking love El's mom as a character. Spectacular level of parent relevance and usefulness. A+.

Aadhya and Liu are also characters who fucking delivered.

Re: minimalism though, I laughed at the start of The Golden Enclaves when I realized that none of the enclaver characters who'd gotten development in the the first two books were from London, the enclave El was theoretically shooting for when we met her.

[malum-forev]

Co-Parenting

*

Summary: Co-Parenting is always tough, especially with the man you thought you'd be spending the rest of your life with. Now add a super soldier.

Pairing: ExHusband!TFATWS!Bucky x Reader

Her foot impatiently tapped on the floor as she sat straight as an arrow on her couch, had she done everything already? Dusted the tables, done, washed the clothes, done, organized the fridge, done twice. (Y/n) looked down at her watch and huffed. 

“They should be here any minute now.” She said to herself while smoothing down her skirt. 

(Y/n) had gone to enough therapy and read way too many self-help books after her divorce to not know that this was just her brains way of controlling the situation. The only thing wrong with her defense mechanism was that there’s no way of controlling co-parenting with the man you thought you’d be spending the rest of your life with. 

--

Bucky had met (Y/n) through Sam’s sister, Sarah had insisted on setting him up with a friend once she heard Sam say he was ready to start dating. 

“I never said I wanted to be set up on a blind date.” Bucky groaned through the phone, the three-way call was obviously not his idea but he was too afraid of Sarah to not answer. 

“What did you expect us to do? Set up your Tinder profile?” Sam’s laugh resonated through the tiny speaker. 

“I’ve heard of people having successful relationships from the Tinder.” Bucky said. “And the internet thing will help me take it slow.”

“You are so not ready for Tinder.” Sarah said. 

And she was right because the moment Bucky saw you sitting at the bar of the restaurant, he knew. Before he met you, Bucky said he didn’t believe in love at first sight because that meant you were only judging a person by their physical appearance but when he saw you, he knew it was real. The emotions he felt were much more than because you looked beautiful, it was like a gravitational pull. You were a magnet. 

--

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!” Sam wiped a fake tear as he pitched his voice up. It was a year later and Bucky was practicing his proposal with the only person who knew about it. Sarah could not be trusted with a secret this classified. 

Bucky stood up from his knelt position with a groan. “You think she’ll like it?”

“I’m not completely sure why she likes you but you’ve been clearly doing something right.” Sam patted his friend on the back. “Just do what you do best and she’ll say yes.”

“I don’t think she can tell the engagement story if I propose when I’m doing what I do best.” Bucky said with a smirk.

“And that’s my cue to leave.” 

--

Everything was going well, two years into the marriage was when Peanut came in. A beautiful baby girl that had Bucky wrapped around her tiny finger. Peanut was like a little tornado that went through the Barnes’ household, some days were easy and other days- well that’s where the problems came in. 

Sam first noticed it at Peanut’s third birthday party. He saw (Y/n) rush in and out of the house, decorations were still being put up and the serving platters with the appetizers were running low. 

“Shouldn’t Dad be helping Mom out?” Sam asked approaching Bucky on the dock of the house they’d bought.

The small ripples and the tranquil sound of the lake had eased Bucky’s nerves just to be altered again by Sam’s words. 

“I’m only in charge of holding up the pinata.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Direct orders from the missus.”

“(Y/n) looks like she’s about to have a mental breakdown over cupcakes, I think you should go over there and ask if she needs any he-“

“Well I think you should mind your own business Sam.” Bucky said flatly. 

Sam’s eyebrows shot up at his friend’s words and Bucky cursed at himself. 

“I’m sorry it’s just-“ He tried to backtrack but it was too late. Sam got the message and he held his hands up.

“You’re right, it’s your marriage.” Sam said sternly. 

--

Only a year after that, (Y/n) and Bucky settled the divorce. It hadn’t come as a shock to her, and honestly she’d been thinking about it for some time before he mentioned the D word (and not the one she wanted to hear). They settled out of court and that was that. (Y/n) kept the house and the cat, and he got a pretty flexible schedule for his time with Peanut. 

That was that, six years of being together was supposed to be erased with one single signature. Bucky had stopped trying and (Y/n) had stopped waiting for him to do something. 

So now, at least two times a month, she was here. Waiting for the minutes to pass until it was 5pm. 

Alpine started purring once she heard the muffled voices coming from the other side of the door. 

“Of course momma’s gonna be home, silly goose.” Peanut’s small voice said before the doorbell rang. 

(Y/n) rushed to the door, waited a couple of seconds and took three deep breaths before she opened, not wanting to look like she’d been waiting by the door for an hour. 

Will I ever stop getting butterflies when I see him? She wondered. 

But she already knew the answer, no. Bucky had aged like fine wine, sure he had a couple of grey hairs here and there but he still looked amazingly handsome. And seeing him picking their daughter up so she could reach the doorbell- an activity Peanut thought was incredible and groundbreaking- sent her hormones into overdrive. 

“Momma!” Peanut yelled, wrapping her tiny arms over (Y/n)’s shoulders as she knelt down. 

“Hi P! How was your weekend?” (Y/n) asked her, taking in the strawberry scent her shampoo had at her dad’s house. 

“It was amazing! Uncle Sam was there and he showed me all the new planes they have, I got to watch a movie where Daddy said they copied his fighting style.” She beamed. “I also got to practice fight with some of Daddy’s friends and they said I do it just like Daddy!”

Peanut rushed into the house and quickly climbed up the stairs. “Oh! I also got to swing with Spiderman!”

(Y/n) widened her eyes at Bucky, she was about to tell him off for letting their four-year-old daughter swing with a teenager but Peanut’s voice rang through the house.

“Daddy! You need to come up and see my new bed!” She yelled from her room.

“Saved by the bell.” Bucky winked and he too climbed up the stairs of the house they had shared. 

Bucky came down the stairs ten minutes later, heading towards the kitchen. 

“You’ve done some remodeling.” He said resting his hands on the counter. (Y/n) only hummed in response. 

“Do you need any money? Are you wanting to remodel more parts of the house?” He asked quietly. Although they were no longer together, Bucky had promised to take care of the woman who gave him the most priceless thing in the world, his daughter. 

(Y/n) shook her head. “I’m okay.”

Bucky nodded slowly, taking in the uncomfortable feeling his old house gave him. He’d bought it with the intentions of remodeling it, to give (Y/n) the house she’d always dreamed of. Bucky had started it, he fixed up the whole basement and the master bedroom but somewhere in the middle of it all he lost inspiration. He lost himself. 

“Are you going to tell me why you thought Peter was qualified to swing our daughter around the city?” (Y/n) raised her eyebrows. 

Bucky chuckled. “Swing is an overstatement and they were in the training room, not the city. I was there, supervising every move.”

“I’m glad she got to spend some time with you, P misses you when you’re on missions.” (Y/n) offered Bucky a small smile, the kind of smile he knew (Y/n) reserved for people who didn’t deserve her. The smile meant he had broken his family in two over something he cannot remember now.

“I miss her too.” Bucky’s voice cracked. “I miss you both.”

(Y/n) rubbed her tired eyes, wanting to unhear Bucky’s words. “You should go home, James.”

“I am home.” Bucky’s voice just above a whisper. 

(Y/n) shook her head. “This isn’t your home, not anymore.”

Her harsh words drove the knife deeper into his heart. 

“We can try-“ He started but was interrupted. 

“You have no right to come into my house after all you’ve done and say that we can try. I tried, for months. I switched up date night, I got a sitter, I asked what you wanted me to become-“ (Y/n) let out a dry laugh. “I started to think of ways I could change myself to be someone you wanted. But the problem is that you don’t know what you want James.”

“So don’t tell me we can try. Because I played the part, the person who wanted this relationship to work only for you to burn my efforts to the ground.” (Y/n)’s voice waivered. “So now the only thing that’s left to do is for you to leave.”

Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked back the tears. 

“I almost forgot,” (Y/n) sighed, opening one of the kitchen drawers and pulling out one of Bucky’s action figures Peanut had said she “needed to survive”, even though her father is the one who the plastic is modeled after. “P wanted you to take this so that when it’s career day at school she can tell her classmates what you do. Something about how the figurine has more value if it’s been on a mission.”

“When’s Career Day? Maybe I can-“ He tried again.

“You’ll be somewhere in Europe.” (Y/n) shook her head. 

Bucky looked down at the action figure, a model of what he was supposed to be. A protector. 

“I’ll see myself out.” He croaked. 

Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Hi hiii I know this is short but I just couldn't get Ex Husband Bucky out of my head. Hope you guys like it! &lt;;3

As always pls like, reblog and comment if you do! &lt;3

And don’t forget to ask a prompt for my 1k bingo game! 💖

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

[a-spes]

A D E A D L Y W I S H - One-shot.

Words count - 5,5k.

Tags & Warnings - Wanda Maximoff x Reader, mentions of forms self-harm (burning, scratching), description of suicide (drowning), deaths (background characters), a lot of angst/hurt with a bit of comfort at the end, kinda a happy ending.

Summary - It comes a day when you are so desesperate that you threw a coin in the lake, wishing for a better life. At first, you thought it was stupid, but was it? If you've learned anything, it is to never take ancient magic lightly.

N/A - It is my first time writing for Wanda Maximoff, I really hope you'll appreciate it! don't hesitate to let me know and interact with the post ♥ ♥

MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST

"Are you sure that you want to hear that story again?" she asked, smiling soflty at the girl, but she already knows the answer because, every night, you were demanding the same story.

And tonight was no different. 

She chuckled as you nodded frantically, excited by the idea of hearing that legend again. Yet, she is almost sure you know this story by heart now, with the amount of time she read it to you, she would be surprised if you didn't. 

Your mom doesn't appreciate it, you know it because she frowns every time she has to read it to you, always making comments that you are trying to ignore, pleading her to stick to the story that is told in the book.

"This story takes place a loong time ago. When grandpa and grandpa weren't even born, when the world was nothing like the one we know today. Some say that this legend is so ancient that it was told even before Humans discovered fire."

"It was a time when magic was known by people, it could be seen everywhere, it was truly amazing!" 

"But very few were the chosen ones, the ones that were gifted with such a talent by nature, because not everyone could bear the weight of it. The nature choose the strongest human that were born, but it wasn't all about physical strenght, they also needed a great mind to be able to deal with the responsabilities that come with great powers." 

"The rest of the story was twisted by the centuries, so we can't be sure of anything as there are several versions, but here is the one that runs in the family, the one that my own mother used to tell me when I was around your age." 

"A long time ago, a girl was born that was gifted by nature. Her name was forgotten, but we now remember as the Scarlet Witch. Some say that she is called that way because of the color of her magic, stained by the blood of her numerous victims. It's said that she took so many lives that it would be impossible for a human being to count all of them."  

"But she hasn't always been the Monster described by the legends. There was a time when she was just like any average little girl, when she was similar to you," she said, taking the opportunity to steal a laugh by booping your nose. "The only difference was the magic within her. She was bright, handling this gift to perfection." 

"Yet, for some people perfection isn't enough, and the little girl - that was now a teenager - was one of them. She decided that she wanted more than what the society would allow, that she wanted to fully embrace the power she was gifted. Those rules she learned as a child, the Witches Code, and all these ceremonies only fed her desire for power as they made her feel trapped. She knew she could do great things, way more important than helping the villagers with their trivial problems."

"She wanted to believe that her destiny had more important things in store for her than what they wanted her to believe. She was certain that her name would be remembered for a long time to come, and she definitely won't let a few random men, frihtened by the talent she had been given, prevent her from fulfilling her destiny. If this powers were given to her, it was for a reason."  

"But nature isn't excempt from mistakes." 

"She was prepared to do anything to achieve her goals. She has taken hold of the weakest minds, convincing them to bring her the powers of the other witches in exhange of a favor. She tricked those who were seeking for her help into believing she would grant their wishes." 

"Yet, she never lied and always fulfilled her promises, just not the way they were expecting her to. The Scarlet Witch was wise, she knew how to twist the words so they could mean exactly what she wanted them to. She played with the words and the despair of the Humans, all ended up begging for their deaths, filled with feelings of guilt and regrets they couldn't live with." 

"Soon enough, she was the only living witch, also being the only one whose name and story lived throught the centuries." 

"What happened next?" you asked, following your mother's silence. She never liked this part of the story, the one that tells the downfall of the Scarlet Witch, she used to say it wasn't appropriate for a young girl like you to hear about the atrocities the enraged villagers inflicted on the witch. 

You used to sneak up in the living room when she was asleep, just so you could get the book and leaf through its pages to take a look at the illustrations she never let you see. If those were already horrible to look at, you don't even want to imagine how bad the reality could've been, probably worse than what's depicted in your child book. 

If they couldn't attack her directly, because of how powerful she was, they could still take her most precious possession: her family. So you saw how they burned her home and family, how they took everything from her because of their anger, seeking to inflict a punishment equal to the harm she had caused them. After all, it was just fair that they took from her the same thing she had taken from them. 

"It wasn't long before it became a quest of blood and revenge," you could read on the pages. 

It only made it worse and, this time, the village didn't survive her wrath, the last picture in your book being a representation of the village, completely destoyed and empty of any presence except for a female figure. She was depicted from behind and seemed to observe this spectacle. She has red hair that flutters in the wind and a red aura that matches the colour of the dress around her: the colour of blood and death. 

"After that day, she wasn't seen anymore," your mom would continue to read after skipping the few disturbing pages of the book, "some say that she died, but this is unlikely, she gathered so much power that she could easily defeat the human condition."

"She propably cut herself from the Human world, waiting for the day she could be needed again, when she could get another revenge over the ones that took everything from her because eradicating them wasn't enough for the witch - and it'll never be, nothing could ever make it up for the loss of the ones she loved. The legends say that she retired in what is now called the Ancient Forest, which would explain why the wildlife, even the flora, is so hostile to humans."

"However, even if she hasn't been seen for decades now, her story is still told by every parent to their kids, the mere mention of her name being enough to instill fear in people's minds."

"This story is a lesson for everyone, both those who use magic and those who ask for its help: there is always a price to pay," she added before falling silent. The story finishes here, you never got to know what the Scarlet Witch became, it's left to your imagination. 

• ✧ •  ✧  • ✧ • ✧  • ✧ • 

Everyone knows better than wandering near the Ancient Forest. This place is the scene of many strange events and legends that give nightmares to the children, but you've never believed in these. 

The past decades, only two kinds of people have ventured into the forest: the most courageous soldiers the village has ever known and the stupidest ones. If you certainly don't belong to the first category, you don't feel like you are part of the second, so maybe there is a third type of person that is going here: the ones in despair. 

They are the ones that have nothing to lose, the ones that see they're last hope in that forest, the ones that think that, maybe, if none of the humans that ever went to the forest came back, it's because they found a better life, wherever they are now. 

And it is exaclty what you are. Not a brave soul, not a silly mind, just a desesperate human. 

In the end, it doesn't matter what category you belong to, because once you've stepped into the forest, you are just as everyone who did it before. She doesn't care about your motivations or story, she reserves the same fate for everyone who dares to enter her domain. 

No one knows what exactly happened to those who went here, no one was ever able to come back to tell their story, but many rumours are whispered among the inhabitants. Some think that they are dead, it is the easiest explanation because it doesn't involve searching for those who have lost their way in the forest - which no one wants to do. So very few are the ones who maintain the hope that they are still alive and will, one day, be able to find their path back to the village. 

It never happened and the ones that got lost were never seen again, dead or alive.

For decades, it was assumed that this rule couldn't be broken. The centuries had failed to attenuate the witch's rage and each generation of villagers has learned to stay away from it, passing on this use to their children - and so on. Thus, when you walked into the forest for the first time, by the age of ten, no one would've expected you to emerge from it a few hours later as if nothing happened, not expecting a little girl to be the one to break the curse.

You were the only exception to a rule that everyone thought immutable. 

By the time, you've lost count of how many times you've visited the Ancient Forest. It slowly became your realm, where you go whenever you want to be alone for a while, knowing that no one would dare to drag you out of here. You weren't ten years old anymore, nor the kid you were the first time you stepped in the forest, oblivious of its dangers and distracted by the flowers she was picking up that just got the luck to get out of here safe. 

No, now, when you enter the Ancient Forest, you know exactly where to go. 

It may be strange to some that you never got lost. Even in the darkness of the night, when all the trees were looking the same and you couldn't even see the stars because of their leaves, when you would get off the beaten tracks with no idea of where you were going, you have always found yourself exactly where you needed and never struggled to find your way back to the village.

There was something, like a voice in your head, that was whispering to your heart the right moment to turn or, on the contrary, when you shouldn't go somewhere, filling your soul with fears, but always to guide your steps through this hostile environment. Even if you've never been attacked by any wild beast, you know there are many because you saw them in the past - but they never tried to get close to you, they seem to be afraid of something. 

This forest was your realm more than theirs. 

This simple thought was enough to fill your heart with pride, giving you the feeling that you eventually found your place. You've not felt that way since your childhood, desesperatly looking forward to the day you would eventually stop feeling like a stranger in your own village. 

Nature chooses you, after all these years. 

They say that you're carrying her mark and that is why you can go in the forest as you want, but it's just another story they made up to explain the things they can't understand in any other way. You believe that the mark they are talking about is nothing more than a birthmark and that, given the circumstances, their minds created stories around it - you are almost sure the mention of a mark on witches' skin was only a thing after they saw yours. 

You are convinced they made it similar to the one on the back of your neck on purpose, describing exactly the circle they saw on your skin. It looks like a sun, except for the rays that are crossing the circle instead of being on the outside. In the legends, the mark is scarlet as a symbol for the devil living inside the witches' hearts, but yours isn't. 

How convenient was it that there were no witches left to verify this fact?

The rumors were quick to spread among the inhabitants and, soon enough, you became the Beast. No one wanted to interact with you anymore, they barely dared to glance at you, scared that an action as simple as this one could lead to a horrible fate for them and their family. They hoped you would go away on your own, that you would understand that you weren't desired here, but to go where? You had no family, the closest town was miles away, a journey of several weeks, maybe months, that you couldn't start alone.

You've tried to get rid of the mark, but you just couldn't. It was on your skin, a part of you that you couldn't part with despite your desesperate attempts. At first, you hid it and tried to cover the symbol with your hair and clothes but, when it wasn't enough anymore for you to forget it was here, you tried to scratch and to burn it, but it didn't make any difference - except for the pain you experienced at the back of your neck. 

Maybe if it wasn't here, they would forgive you for your sins. 

Even if they decided to not throw you away because you were a child and had a few of the elders by your side, they still made you pay for what they believed to be your mistakes or to prevent the ones they were sure you would do when you grow up. They believed that you would follow the steps of the one who marks you’re carrying, destined to become like the Scarlet Witch. 

So you decided to run away where no one would come to harass you, the only place where you know they wouldn't dare to go because they weren't courageous enough to defy this forest and the monsters living in its legends. 

This time, you found yourself on rocks, overlooking a lake by a few meters. You've never seen this part of the forest before and it was probably the most beautiful place you were allowed to be in your life. It was late, so the only light was coming from the moon, dimmed by the clouds that were covering the sky. Further down, you could observe how the water is brushing against the shore in small waves caused by a light wind, the same that keeps bringing your hair in front of your eyes.

The landscape had something sinister, but yet you found it comfortable, wishing you could stay here forever. 

For a second, some darkest thoughts infiltrate your mind, whispering to you that peace was only a few steps away. As you are standing at the edge of the rocks, you can't help but imagine what would happen if you jumped. You imagine your body colliding brutally with the cold surface of the water, stealing your last breath. You could almost fill how the water would fill your lungs until it has replaced the air inside, making your struggle vain. 

You wouldn't really try to get out of here anyway. Even if the lake is calm tonight, you would drown into some of your own thoughts. The way you are trying to get to the surface is all an act, your arms and legs moving just so you could trick yourself, saying that you did everything you could when it was a lie. You wouldn't try at all, being relieved the moment your eyes would close.

But when you open them, you aren't greeted by pitch black, but the same landscape as when you closed them. Before you could listen to the voices in your head, you decide to take a few steps back from the edge - this night wouldn't be the one of your death. 

You are not sure where the confidence is from, but you are certain that your time has not yet come. 

As you slip your hand into your pocket, your fingertips touch something cold. It is a small object that is rolling between your fingers and you were sure it was never here in the first place. When you get it out, you can't help but frown as you're observing the penny because it doesn't look like the ones you are used to see. This one has a strange crown engraved on the first side and, on the other, a symbol you are unfortunately familiar with.

It is the mark, the same as the one at the back of your neck.

You don't really know what to think about it, brushing the symbol with your thumb while you're losing yourself in your thoughts. You are not afraid by this discovery, it is something closer to curiousity that you're feeling. 

Eventually, you remember some details about the Scarlet Witch's story. As you are playing with the penny, you think about how people used to ask the witch to grant their wishes by tossing a coin in a lake or a fountain. You wrap your hand around the object, hesitating for a moment. 

"I wish..," you whispered, taking a few seconds to think about what you really want, "... that I could find my place in this world, if I have any. I wish they would stop treating me like I am not one of them. I am tired of being alone and... so weak," you eventually said. 

At this point, your voice wasn't just a murmur anymore, you yelled the last words, hoping someone would hear your distress but, once you're done, you are just greeted by the deep silence of the forest and your loneliness. You laugh as you realize how stupid it was, tossing the coin as far as you can, using all the rage you are feeling at the time. It hits the surface of the water, disturbing it for a moment before it becomes calm again. The minutes pass and it's as if nothing had happened. 

You are laughing as you are thinking about how stupid you've been to expect anything to happen, like a child who still believes that tales are real. Soon, your laughter turns into tears which run down your cheeks, they are carrying your pain and despair, the one of not having a better life. 

As you are easily finding your way back to your house, you could feel the stares of the villagers on your back. Your journey is accompanied by their murmurs and you don't need to hear their words to guess what they are whispering to each other, sometimes being ignorant is the best. Every time you step out of the forest, you could read the disapointement mixted with the fear on their faces. 

You now understand why your mother didn't like that story, it was twisted and unfair, and you stopped liking it when it became too close to your reality. 

Tonight, you can't sleep properly. For seemingly endless hours, you toss and turn, your eyes closing only so your mind could trap you in horrifying nightmares. So, when a voice whispers a few words in your ear, you are unable to say if it's a part of reality or just another trick of your mind, the line between the two being too blurred. On the corner of the room, you catch the movement in the shadows. It was so furtive that you weren't sure you actually saw it until the shape detaches itself from the gloom. 

At the end of your bed, a montionless figure is observing you. You can't see their face, but you can make out its outline thanks to the moonlight filtering through the open window. This being is envelopped in a red glow that is even more intense around their eyes and hands, where it seems to be concentrated. You don't dare to move, petrified by the power that emanates from your guest, not needing to see their face or to know their name to feel this overwhelming aura that lets you know you'd better be careful around them. 

Yet, strangely, you don't feel worried, no fear grips your heart, no questions trouble your mind, it's almost as if this lad'ys presence makes sense, that you've been waiting for her all your life and the universe has eventually decided to put her in your path. 

"I could help you, if you'd let me," she whispered, unclasping her fingers to hold on one of her hands, expecting you to take it. 

"You could?" you asked, and she just nodded, which resulted in a sad laugh from you,  "and how's that?" you added, your words sounding drier than it did in your mind, for a second, you regret it, scared it would make her angry.

"I can't tell you that," she murmured after a few seconds of silence, "you just need to trust me, but would you? How hard do you want your wish to be granted?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. She didn't take her eyes off you for a moment since you started talking. 

You hesitate, but not for long because you are eventually nodding. You have the feeling that you can't lie to the woman anyway, you are sure that she can read in your body and mind your lies and you want your wish to be granted more than anything else. You decided to trust her the day you threw that coin in the lake, sharing your secrets with her, begging for her help. 

And, if for a second you thought about refusing the hand she was holding to you, you don't. It is impossible to deny the woman when your soul is drawn to her, your body almost moving on its own to shake her hand. At this time, you already know that there is no turning back, that you sealed an unspoken deal of which you don't know the conditions but that will have a great influence on your life. 

Your destiny was sealed the moment your fingers entwined with hers, the moment you pronounced the name that was on the tip of your lips the whole time: hers.

"Scarlet Witch...," you whispered, and she smiled. It was strangely soft, it contastred with the atmosphere of the room. If she was impressive, she did not appeared as mischevious.

That is when you find yourself surrounded by a white glow similar to the witch's. You have the feeling that the pressure she is exerting on your hand became stronger, her fingernails digging into your skin, almost leaving marks, only to prevent you from pulling away from her grasp. Your heart is racing and you are struggling to breathe as anxiety is taking over you - but it is too late to have regrets because you are already feeling your consciousness slipping away. 

"I know it can be scary, but I promise it'll be okay, love," she mumured as you were struggling to keep control over your mind. She slowly raised her hand to stroke your hair behind your ear, the same way a mother would with her child, "don't try to fight it, let it go...," she added, convincing you to do so.

There is an unknown force trying to get in control of your soul, and you don't have the strenght to drive it out. It only lasted a few seconds before a sharp pain twists your head, spreading in the rest of your body and getting you on your knees. The white aura around you turns the same colour as the witch’s and the scarlet glow darkens your vision. 

For one night, she accepted to share her magic with you, to lend you her strenght. 

When you slowly get your mind back, it takes you a few seconds before being aware of your surroundings again. The first sense to come back to you is touch; as you could feel the heat that is licking your face, but it is only when you hear some muffled screams that you open your eyes, brutally brought back to reality. 

Everything is burning. 

You were standing in the middle of the main street of your village but you couldn’t recognize anything. You protect your face with one of your sleeves, the smoke-laden air starting to make you cough and sting your eyes. In the chaos, you could barely see anything. 

The worst was probably the silence that came next, when no one could scream anymore, when the beginnings and excuses turned into unintelligible sentences before shutting up completely. The last prayers were said, but they were useless: no one is left alive, except you, as a spectator of this scene.

Not as a spectator, but as the culprit. 

You are suddenly running through the village, praying to all the gods you have never believed in so that it is not too late and there is at least one person you could save. You don’t even think about it twice, your legs moving on their own to the first house that is still standing, pushing you inside despite the fire to seek for any form of life.

But there is nothing left. 

Inside, you can’t find a soul or a piece of furniture, just destruction. You barely have time to glance around anyway because you are pulled out of the building by a firm grip on your arm. For a second, you are relieved at the thought of another soul still being alive, but it is short-lived as you realize it is the Scarlet Witch. 

"What were you thinking?" she yelled while dragging you out of the burning house so strongly that you are almost tripping on your own feet. "I certainly didn't do all of that for nothing,” she added, glaring at you and you knew you made a mistake. 

Contrary to what you may think, your death is the last thing she wants. She waited so many years to be awakened by one of her peers, she won’t let you go that easily. When she eventually lets you go, it is accompanied by a heavy sigh that carries every of her thoughts; how can one be so dumb? She definitely wasn’t expecting you to run in the fire while she was making sure everything was going as she planned, she only left you for a minute but she now regrets it deeply. 

But if her face shows concern, yours is pure hatred as you slowly understand what happened despite the lack of memories. 

It is her fault. 

Tears start to uncontrollably run down your cheeks but you are barely feeling them, the only thing in your mind being the sick feeling that is growing inside of your chest as the realization of what happened dawns on you. There is nothing you can do except watching the consequences of your own mistakes, the result of your naivety.

“What did you do?” you yelled, suddenly turning around to face the woman, getting out of her grisp with agressivity. She raised an eyebrow, surprised by your reaction and the tone you are using, but she is not amused at all - you are on thin ice and must be careful about what you are going to say next. 

“Me?” she scoffed, as if what you just said was nothing but a joke, “I did nothing my dear, you are the one that did it all,” she added in what you could describe as a condescending voice. 

“But I-,” you immediately said, trying to protest, but she doesn’t even let you enough time to say a word before she cuts you off, not having the patience to deal with that kind of shit tonight - it was a long day. 

“Isn’t it what you wished for?” she asked back. 

“Of course not!” you yelled, crying, shaking, “that’s never what I wanted!” you added, but as you are talking you realize that it is exactly what you asked for, just not the way you wanted it to be done. 

How are you supposed to find the peace you were seeking for now? 

You are not feeling at all the relief she promised to you, only guilt and disgust, and you know that feeling is going to eat you from the inside for the rest of your life. You wanted to be better than them, that’s what you tried to do your whole life by ignoring their insults, you’ve never replied to their provocations, waiting patiently for the day you would prove them that they were wrong. 

But you just showed them how right they were all that time.

Some of them were innocent, you heard the cries of children that will never get a chance to live, the ones of the elders that gave you a bit of help, the ones of the people that smiled at you on the sly, but it is all gone now.

“Oh,” she frowned, her tone being like it was just a mistake without any importance and it gives you the urge to slap the woman, but you don’t do anything. “Then I guess you should’ve been more precise,” she added, shrugging. 

That’s a first lesson she knows you’ll remember for the rest of your life: always be careful with ancient magic, it is not some sort of game.

She knows it is not easy, but she also knows it is needed. As she sees the tears in your eyes, she feels the urge to take you in her arms to comfort you, to tell you that everything will be fine, but she can’t. 

She can’t lie. 

The future that is now yours won’t be sweet, the ones born with that mark have never meant to live a great life.

When she looks at you, she is filled with a feeling she hasn’t felt for decades: pity. When she was born in a witches’ society, you grew up in a humans’ one. As her eyes wandered around the destroyed village, she sighs, knowing she is about to do something she promised herself to never do, but she can’t leave you there.

In that instant, you seemed to be so fragile, your whole body shaking, not even having enough strength to stand up, and it reminded her of the person she was a long time ago, when she was just as young as you are. Maybe if she had someone to guide her through that she wouldn’t have ended up with the name she knew for now, maybe she could spare you the mistakes she made, the ones that condemned her to a life of errand and loneliness.

Or maybe it will only cause chaos and destruction, no one can know. 

“Come,” she eventually said, holding out her hand to you so you could take it, “it’s time to go home,” she added, her tone being gentle compared to the one she used earlier, when she dragged you away from the fire. 

“Where?” you asked back, “where?! My home is completely destroyed because of me, of you, I have nowhere to go!” you screamed, standing up just to shout at the woman, making big movements with your hands.

The witch flinched, she wasn’t expecting you to talk to her that way but she didn't say anything, trying to be understanding. She takes a few steps closer until she is close enough to wrap your hands in hers.

“That wasn't your home,” she said, “let me show what a home really is, let me guide you,” she added, she was practically begging. 

And, despite everything that happened that day, you decided to trust the woman a second time, to take her hand again, to follow her home, and you don’t need to know where it is, as long as you are far from the village. You are convinced that everything will be fine by her side, her hand in yours is making all the negative emotions disappeared for an instant. 

After all, she is the one you have waited for your whole life. 

MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST

Tag list - @onyxwolf96 @alexawynters @ichala

[nor-4]

Scott Street

Part two Part three Part four

This will be a long story

The use of (y/n) might be cringe but we need it

Mike Schmidt ft. Childhood lover Reader.

"Hey mike, i bring cookies for you. My mom bought it." You said while you hand to mike the cookies, you sat on the picnic blanket on cross legs cause you are wearing your favorite floral dress. Mike on the other hand had always love that dress, it suits you so well it makes you look like an angel.

"What if we got separated for like 100 km, would you still find me?" Mike asked as he stares at the clean lake with a cute ducklings swimming around with their mother, you really love personal questions even it's stupid sometimes "Of course mike! We will make our house full of flowers!" You excitedly said as you smile proudly at your answer, mike always love that smile he will never got tired of it.

You guys sat down beside the lake the whole day talking about your futures as if both of you have any idea what you are about to encounter along the way.

Suddenly mike woke up from his loud alarm groaning as he stood up from the bed, while doing his daily push ups he's thinking is both of you gonna meet ever again? He hope so, he has many stories he wants to tell.

"Mike! Find me please!" You weakly yelled because of your tears as your body was at the car window while your mom hold you, with full force you throw a ring with pink diamond in it.

"I will! Just wait for me, i will!" Mike yelled while he was crying like a baby as he runs to catch the car but stopped once he saw you throw a ring.

After that day mike couldn't stop thinking on how will he find you, on where are you, are you okay, what if you wouldn't remember him ever agai-

"Mike.. It's already time we should go" abby said as she saw his brother zoning out of nowhere when both of them should get going or else both of them will be late for school nd mike's job.

"Ohh yeah sorry boss." Mike sarcastically said as he stepped inside the car and started it, "Is there a problem?" abby asked because she is starting to notice that mike is always zoning out.

"Huh? What no." mike stutterly said as he just focused his mind on the road, but deep inside he is thinking on how he is gonna find you or where is he gonna find you.

[greenerteacups]

Fair warning: I don't think this is going to be a question, just a few post-latest chapter thoughts haphazardly stacked together under a trenchcoat.

Thank you for this chapter. It made my day to read something almost fluffy (I don't think anything in LH can be called purely fluff, and that's a good thing because fluff is best when it is padding for the plot, and that's what this chapter was).

LH Book 5 has been the beginning of payoff for the Dramione slow burn, and while that is immensely satisfying, it also means there are less milestones to look forward to. I don't know if this was an intentional decision, but I love how you started seeding in another slow burn that has kept us equally invested: the Black family drama.

I love reading anything that does the dysfunctional family dynamic well, and seeing Draco getting old enough to identify it clearly, have questions, testing his boundaries, fighting back against what he's been told to accept, has all been immensely satisfying as someone who has gone through this myself. Your depiction of the Black family dynamics has been /chef's kiss/. * spoiler for chapter 70 * when Draco witnesses his cousins casually throwing information his way, what I wanted was for one of the adults to see how much he needed that information, that connection, and give it to him. My god ❤️ You have written a lonely boy craving family so well.

Back to the Dramione of it all (and this might be a question), I love how Harry chose to approach the contained chaos waiting to unravel around him and just bluntly told Draco what he did. Question: do you think this is something Canon Harry would have done in this instance? Was there a choice to change anything in your characterisation of Harry (with respect to Canon) that resulted in this wonderful, blunt, more-mature-than-many-adults-who-can't-even-identify-their-needs version of Harry?

If not, what canon Harry actions/traits do you think would point to him acting this way?

Thank you! This is a beautiful and very kind trench coat, and I am luxuriating in it.

I will answer your question while continuing to luxuriate: I don't think canon Harry would ever confront his friends about an emotional problem, mostly because because he never does. Hermione and Ron, the two people he's most comfortable with in the world, are feuding for most of HBP, and while he does have a few "can't you guys just get along?" type-outbursts, he doesn't really sit down and ask "hey, what's going on with you? How can I help?" because canon!Harry is, as you might expect for a 15-year-old boy, better at ignoring his problems than solving them. (I also think there's an ingredient of conflict-avoidance in there from his upbringing with the Dursleys, but I'll be the first to admit that's mostly headcanon.)

My Harry is a bit softer — in part because that's just how I prefer my Harry, my favorite scenes with him are those where he's showing tenderness for things other people have neglected. This is the best of him, and this is the core of him, in my opinion. Canon Harry has this marvelous capacity for empathy, and when he chooses to use it, it's kind of astonishing how capable he is of resisting prejudice and caring for people. He's fiercely loyal in defending Hagrid, always. He makes a point of freeing Dobby, who's just spent a book trying to maim him. He refuses to let Sirius kill Pettigrew, even knowing that Pettigrew betrayed his parents ("My dad wouldn't want you to" — sweet boy, you mean you don't want them to, and you understand on some level that's the only thing you can say that will stop them.) He saves Gabrielle Delacour, because even if she would have been safe in the end, he's not leaving a little girl at the bottom of a fucking lake. He reads the Half-Blood Prince's handwriting — Snape's handwriting — and thinks: "I bet he's someone like me." On the basis of handwriting, he empathizes with this person! Harry is constantly trying to save people, and he doesn't ever really tell us why. And we'll never know why canon!Harry does that, consciously or subconsciously, but I have to imagine that every time Harry looks at someone in pain, he sees a lonely kid stuck under a staircase, and he thinks not fucking today.