#i am not in the mental state to find new cracks
Text
ploof
#i reset my laptop and lost all of my software and is2g#its only wednesday and the week has alredy been such thaat#i am not in the mental state to find new cracks#so after 3ish years as a lightroom user and 15 as a photoshop user i have now#paid for my first adobe product#which is fine except the current programs are v v diff from what ive been using#so excuse my stuff being even junkier than usual
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The Economic Difference Between The Miner and Mine Owner's Daughter
Chapter Four
Based of this ask
Rated Explicit | Warning: period typical sexism, depression
Ao3
Taglist: @anastasiablossomlove @tfamidoingwithmylife @luopenis
Chapter Three
Golden Cave ruined your family utterly.
The explosion, the suicide pact made by your father, and ordered the workers to follow. The research on the gas that caused the madness. Then the detonation of the charges buried the cave with everyone inside.
You were left with utterly nothing.
When you woke up, the doctor of the mining site said Norton was carrying your unconscious body to the infirmary before the explosion happened. Since that accident, you have been asleep…
For a year.
There were no dreams, no sensation of being asleep for so long! Doctor Dyer even said they started fearing the worst. Not like that was your concern, it was your father and the miners.
The news given to you is beyond heartbreaking…
In a year you have lost everything your father ever owned or built himself, including your home.
Suddenly, you have fallen from the top to now sinking into the bottom.
The life you knew is gone, your mother's family had turned away from you to keep their livelihood secure (though they pay for your medical upkeep), and the families of those miners demanded your blood. It is a nightmare scenario that leaves you helpless.
It was too much for you. The sense of isolation, loneliness, and helplessness quickly takes root in your heart.
Your friend, the doctor whose name is William Dyer, visits you from time to time. Visiting as often as he can with his wife when you are transferred to a mental ward.
Your dark thoughts had led you to a dark option as you grieved.
Staying in a coma felt like a better option.
In the hospital currently, you sit alone in your room facing the window. A dark and cloudy day, no one is out in the yard because it rained yesterday. It fits your current moods, dark and gloomy. A shell of your former self these days as nightmares plague your mind, you jump at shadows when you force yourself to stay awake.
There are whispers in your mind you swear are voices of those lost in Golden Cave.
Go back. You must go back. You must find out what happened that day!
You stare at your lifeless expression in the window, there are dark bags under your eyes now.
A knock makes you slightly turn towards the door as it takes your attention for a second only for you to ignore it once more to stare outside the gloomy world.
“You have a visitor!” A nurse enters your room, “If you need anything someone will be right outside.” Leading in whoever before closing the door.
There's a second of silence, then the sound of a heel-clicking against the floor as your visitor walks towards you. He stopped only when you spoke.
“Please leave me, Doctor Dyer,” Wiping your tears, “I am afraid I am in no state to be pleasing company.” You dare not look at your friend as you look like a mess. Unkempt hair, your medical gown stained with tears, your face puffy from crying so much.
There is a deep chuckle, one that makes you confused, “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” A voice that haunts you chills you to the bone. Nights you dreamed about him yet it always feels like a jumbled mess-- All of those dreams, however, end in a way you are shameful to admit: erotic.
Not sure why, yes you did find him attractive but such ideas never crossed your mind out of respect for him.
“Mr. Campbell?” Your voice cracking as you slowly turn around, “I…” When you look at him– Up for he towers over you– He appears different.
A haircut and dyed a lighter shade of brown hair. His skin is clean, no longer covered by the muck of dirt and coal. His attire is bright red, accented by his shoulder gold colored lined cape, with black long boots. Then there is a mask on his face, it hides the scar on his face. The hat was taken off the moment he entered as he held it in his white gloved-covered hand.
No longer does he dress like a prospector, no, he is like a dapper gentleman from some stage play. At least he appears healthy, that you are most grateful for.
“You appear well.” Smiling so gently to him genuinely happy to see his fortune changed.
“Quite,” He moves forward but stops midway when you flinch, “You mousy now? Tsk, when Dyer said you were locked up here I couldn't believe it.” A few long strides and he is beside you facing the window, “To think you would end up here.”
“If you are here to mock me,” Turning your head to look at him, “Please do not.” Begging for a bit of mercy, “It is good however to see you, Mr. Campbell. Despite everything that has happened, I am glad you are safe.”
You still are sweet as honey, you should be broken with all that happened! But you don't remember it… Heh.
“Dyer said you don't remember what happened at Golden Cave.” Ignoring what you said.
You nod then gaze forward as you start explaining what happened.
All you can remember is running into the cave to stop your father. Doctor Dyer says the gas within the cave likely causes you to hallucinate and seems to cause the gap in your memory. The coma though, he does not know what caused that.
“I want to thank you for saving me.” These are the last words to follow.
“Don't see why you should.” Turning around to lean against the hard glass of the window, “Look at the mess you're in.” Crossing his arms.
“Perhaps.” It has been… Hard to put it lightly, “It seems fortune has smiled on you these days. The gold rose pin is a little much though.”
If only you knew how he obtained this wealth. The cost of being now the one on top. If he had to make the choice again… Well, he crossed that threshold of morality the moment he had you in that cave. Taking you, listening to the dark part of himself; his life is now in a place he wants to be. In control and wealthy.
“What brings you here today?” Making conversation, “How have you been?” Curious.
A part of him wishes you would not smile at him, but the other half is excited by you smiling at him. How you have no idea how tainted you are because of him.
He turns to face you as he pulls out an envelope, sealed by ink with a crest design on it, he gives it to you.
Take it in your hand with an inquisitive expression. Why does it have the crest of your mother's family on it?
“I have a business proposal for you.” Cold and cutting to the chase, “One I'm sure you are well acquainted with.”
When you open the envelope, reading each paper, you back away with shock on your face.
“How—” In utter disbelief.
“Money is power, sweetheart. You know that. Don't worry I didn't write that, they did. Figured the best way to settle your pop's debts is to get their granddaughter–” He stopped when he noticed you tearing up but laughing humorlessly.
“Seems karma has a way of balancing out indiscriminately.” You cannot believe this, “Now I am the one owing the company store.”
Sixteen tons. What do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt— He is aware of the miner's song.
“Debt is inevitable. At least, you won't be breaking your back digging for coal.” Shrugging.
“No… Instead, I will be on my knees for you.” A deadpan expression before you sigh.
Oh, you remember those words, huh? Cute.
“There are worse things that can happen, (Name).”
You know that. You truly do know that. It just makes you feel bitter, being tossed to be another person's problem. Helpless as these papers basically layout: you have no choice if you want to survive.
There is a harsh reality you must face as a woman of this world: marriage is your only way to stay alive.
“When?”
“In May. A spring wedding. Everyone loves spring weddings from what I was told.”
“And you… Do you agree with this?”
“Why not? They see the advantages and they know how good it would look to marry you to a former employee. One that saved you too. Your father has no kin aside from you and the company is going belly up, I can just absorb it into my own.”
“... What happened to you in a year?”
He does not answer, he instead pulls out a ring from his pocket, “Yes or no, simple as that.” Showing you the ring held up by his thumb and index finger: Gold. An engagement band. Simple with lovely patterns on it.
You offer your left hand to him.
#reader insert#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#idv reader insert#idv x reader#idv norton#idv prospector#idv x you#identity v x you#identity v x reader#identity v#norton campbell x reader#norton campbell#norton campbell x you
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Collector's Edition: Cars and Conversations (Part I)
Mulder and Scully have traveled a lot a lot a lot during their years in the basement-- surely, they had pretty cool conversations on the road?
Loose chronological order below~
@wexleresque/hellsteeth's
stars
As he climbs into the passenger seat of his father’s Lincoln, Fox yawns. The dashboard clock reads 5:03 AM and the smug tilt of his mother’s lips suggests that the early hour is the result of considerable negotiation. The tires crunch on the driveway and his mother waves at him absentmindedly from the porch as they depart. She doesn’t make a habit of smiling, but in the dark, Fox thinks something close might be on her face.
The drive is quiet this morning, save for the news on the radio and the whistle of the wind through the cracked window. Sunflower seeds sail over the glass and Fox takes a few out of the bag, chewing on them for something to do.
“How’s work, Dad?” he asks as they pass Fall River.
Young Mulder is tossed back and forth by his begrudging parents.
the fbi basement bulletin board - Chapter 5 (Tumblr)
“Hm. Well you probably don’t need a medical professional to tell you this, but if you keep moving it around, it’s going to take longer to heal. You need to rest it.”
“Noted, doc. And you just missed the turn, by the way.”
S1 Mulder is bad at directions-- especially with a sprained wrist.
Local Radio (Tumblr)
Driving out to a little town in Indiana hadn't been in the original plan, but the business of Memorial Day weekend had removed flying as an option. They needed to reach their destination within 24 hours. So here they were, en route to another place that didn't even warrant a dot on the map (you've seen one, you've seen them all, he sometimes thought to himself).
Mulder is amused at a crazy radio station (and at Scully's reaction.)
Christine Leigh's (Alt. Ao3) Maybe?
"Okay, here we are." Maggie said this as she pulled off the highway and onto the road that would take them into Democrat Hot Springs. She was surprised that there wasn't more traffic. This town, if she remembered right, was supposed to be some sort of a resort area. Five more minutes, and they were in the parking lot looking up at the familiar sight of the neon arches, and that's all that mattered.
Captain Scully is back from deployment; and Maggie senses something is off with her youngest daughter.
@thatfragilecapricorn30's (Ao3) Tell Me You Love Me - Chapter 1
“How do you know where I live?” he asked.
Scully’s cheeks reddened; she was hoping he wouldn’t notice or find her actions inappropriate. “It was, uh, it was in your personnel file. I wrote down your address after you called me at home after the last case. I figured I may need it at some point.”
Mulder smiled. “Just trying to see if you’ve been spying on me.”
Post Deep Throat Scully can't shed her keyed-up nerves after driving Mulder back home.
@scullywolf's (Ao3)
Eve
Her eyes narrowed. “How far up north?”
“California’s a big state, Scully.”
“I’m aware of that. How far?”
He decided there was probably something very interesting over in the corner that merited staring at while he answered. “About 300 miles. Give or take.”
Eve Mulder sheepishly wakes Scully.
Red Museum
Sure, the old man wasn’t a member of the church, and similarities between him and Brother Andrew were all but nonexistent, but the cryptic “There’s something I’d like to show you,” with no further explanation, was enough to set her mental warning bells chiming. She was a grown woman, with a gun, but that didn’t mean she loved the idea of jumping into some random stranger’s truck after only the briefest of exchanges. Mulder joined her at the truck’s window, an unspoken question on his face.
Red Museum Scully communicates her anxieties to Mulder without a word.
Demons
The car company rep agreed to come and pick her up, and she sat down on the curb for only a minute or so before getting up again to pace off her nervous energy. A hundred horrible scenarios played themselves out in her head; at least ninety of them involved Mulder getting into car wrecks of varying degrees of seriousness. In order to keep herself from panicking, she tried to focus on the task at hand, which only made her angry that she was even in her current position in the first place.
Demons Scully has to call in a new rental car.
Drive
“All I’m saying,” she said pointedly, “is that it could be worse. We could be crammed in a room right now with a bunch of other agents, and instead we’re at least driving around through what you have to admit is some fairly scenic farmland.”
Mulder spared a moment to mourn their lost office.
Drive Scully appreciates being out in the field with Mulder again.
Dreamland II
"...Mulder, I’m not proud of how long it took me to realize what was going on. I was about ready to drag you in for an MRI. Some sort of delayed-effect brain trauma from your trip out to the Queen Anne was the only thing I could think of to account for your dramatic change in behavior. Only it wasn’t you at all–”
“Well, you believe it now, and that’s all that matters. Now how do we fix things?”
Dreamland II Mulder and Scully catch up before heading back into the fray.
@cactustree's (Ao3) Fast Times and Slow Drives
She startles when she feels a warm hand on top of hers, and her eyes snap open as though jolted by an electric shock. She looks over to find Mulder studying her, his eyes darkened with concern.
“Watch the road, Mulder,” she murmurs, pulling her hand away from his.
“What’s wrong, Scully?”
Post Genderbender Mulder banters away Scully's apology with facts.
@h0ldthiscat's (Ao3, Alt. Ao3)
Survivor
She swats him away with one of her small hands when he touches her head and helps her into the car, but the look she shoots him lacks her usual antagonism, and the purse of her lips doesn't quite convince him that she's annoyed.
"Do you want another one of these before we hit the road?" He shakes a half-empty bottle of Gatorade at her as he slides behind the wheel, but she shakes her head once, firmly, and presses her lips together in a thin line, making them even whiter than they are.
Post Darkness Falls Mulder drives them home.
7. things you said while we were driving
She shoves the sunshade back up and clears her throat. “Can we go?”
He notices for the first time that her eyes are wet, that her chin is quivering despite her best attempts to control it. Remorse and guilt wash over him as he remembers an offhand comment from earlier in the week that explains her makeup, her nicer-than-usual suit, the set of her jaw.
Post Never Again Mulder's remorse soothes Scully's feelings.
Can I ask for a fic tonight? :)
“Was the drive okay?” she asks.
Mulder jerks his head back to the still open door and says, “Ask your son, he drove.”
William appears in the doorway, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, tawny hair in his eyes. “It was fine, Mom.”
“Good,” she says, shooting daggers at Mulder with her eyes, daggers that say she can’t believe he let their son drive in a snowstorm....
AU-- Revival era Scully is not pleased Mulder let college age William drive back in a snowstorm.
@crossedbeams’s (Ao3) I-Spy
‘I love this song!’ I explain, whizzing the twizzler I have pilfered from Mulder’s junk food haul around in some vaguely rhythmic pattern. I love music I just lack the skill set to express that love very elegantly.
Mulder chuckles at my enthusiasm and cranks up the volume, ‘I never would have had you pegged as a Clapton fan’.
S1 Scully tells Mulder about her family road trips.
@slippinmickeys's (Ao3, Gossamer)
Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 25 (Tumblr)
The thing was, it was next to impossible to see out the windshield.
Scully loved thunderstorms. Having spent a large portion of her youth in San Diego, they were still a novelty, even after years on other, more weather-prone bases and college campuses, and if she'd been home, she would have pulled up a chair next to her window and curled up there with a mug of tea, watching the light play in the sky and the water ping sharply against the glass.
However, as a driver she was cautious, and with Mulder, well, she had a reputation to uphold: He was the engine. She was the brake.
S1 Scully drives through a storm, donuts and a dozing partner included.
@brownies-and-tea/browniesandtea's Collect Call
“Mulder, it’s too late.” Scully sighed and leaned against the rain-streaked window of the car.
"I can't believe you're thinking fondly of that awful motel."
"I'm thinking fondly of a decent night's sleep." she stretched across the passenger seat.
S1 Mulder pursues a lead with Scully, from car to phone booth.
Ten's Learning to Breath (1/2)
In the elevator the women leaned him against one of the walls and kept talking to him, worried that otherwise he would go back to sleep and start sliding to the floor. Dana asked him questions, like his name and address, to keep him alert. She was relieved when she received the correct answers.
They got him into the backseat of Maggie's car, careful not to bump his head. Dana immediately raced around the car and got in the back herself. She fastened his seatbelt and watched as he leaned back against the headrest. He was asleep again before Maggie turned the key in the ignition.
AU-- Post One Breath Scully, Maggie, and Melissa are shocked at the state of Mulder's apartment.
J. C. Sun's Car Ride
My partner is next to me, as he always is, but for the first time in months, he's wearing his glasses. They make him look like an owl: a giant, somber six-foot owl perched in the driver's side seat. However, I doubt any owl has ever rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbow and cradled a book in his lap, or chased the paranormal for a living. Nor do I think any owl has ever looked quite like him: the slightly twisted nose, the clear hazel eyes and the annoying, annoying little lock that, even now, droops across his forehead. It takes a wrench of will to resist the urge to reach out and to smooth it into place.
Post Firewalker Scully is bonded to Mulder now.
@seek-its-opposite/seek_its_opposite's
transient luminous events
He is still just standing there, the sleeves on the turtleneck he didn’t need to wear pushed up at the elbows. She is suddenly, vividly aware of the car, of the hot metal and the smell of rubber in stagnant humidity. Duane Barry’s trunk smelled like a spare tire. Her mouth goes cloth-gag dry.
“Can we?” she asks. She waves her hand at the road ahead and wonders how she’s so sure of this: He’d have known what she was asking even if she hadn’t.
“Sure,” Mulder nods. He looks relieved. He grabs their flashlights from the glove compartment and hands her one, and the flood of Pfaster’s headlights behind her eyes softens and clarifies into two beams that will never outrun her. And they walk.
Post Irresistible Scully confronts Mulder on his bubble-wrap method of protection.
if you weren't so
She tilts her chin up at him, at the usual angle, and finds that the geometry between them is the same.
“I need to talk to you,” she says. “Something’s happened.”
Behind him, his not-wife drags a recliner over the threshold in reverse, yelling at the houses that all look like hers.
“I have to talk to you alone.”
She says “alone” like she always says it and wonders if she meant to do that. There are days when she’s sure she could leave him in the dirt and still wind up in a room with him at the end of the world. As they slip behind the truck, she's gripped by the idea that to Joanne Fletcher, she is the woman Mulder shouldn’t be with.
AU-- Dreamland II Mulder and Scully try to find a way back to each other.
theramblinrose's Irresistible - Chapter 5/Chapter 6
“I didn’t know when I’d hear from you,” Mulder said.
“I’m at the airport,” Scully said. “I’ve got a car. I’m driving in. I just wanted to call before I left.”
“Anything wrong?” Mulder asked.
“No,” Scully said. “Honestly—everything’s feeling pretty right, Mulder.”
AU-- Irresistible Mulder and Scully are juggling their new relationship, a surprise pregnancy, and the fallout from the nefarious Pfaster.
eponine119's Same Old Fight
-Turn it back, he'd insisted, his knuckles white on the steering wheel with the effort of keeping the car on the narrow twisting road, This is making me jumpy.
-I don't know why I let you drive.
-You didn't have any choice.
-Mulder, pull over and let me drive.
-No.
S2 Mulder rescues Scully after their blowout fight almost ends with an explosive conclusion.
Sneakers/sneakers's
Walter Skinner's 'From Left Field
"But I don't see why Skinner should care about the book. It didn't mention *him*, and it didn't even use our names." Scully stood in front of the bookcase, scanning the shelves. "We didn't divulge anything classified; I'm sure the reading public thinks the whole think is a joke."
"But they had the nerve to claim I ate *twelve* piece of sweet potato pie!"
She pulled the book down. "Skinner's going to complain about your eating habits?"
"But I *hate* sweet potato pie, Scully. You know that, remember? I turned green at the gills last Thanksgiving, when your sister-in-law offered me some."
Post Jose Chung's From Outer Space Skinner has his thoughts on the book.
Sweet Home D.C.
"But the reception . . ." She looked out the window at the 1 AM darkness. "I think we both need to get some sleep. Turn the radio back on if you want to."
He did.
<< . . . Sweet home, Alabama . . . where skies are so blue . . . sweet home, Alabama . . . Lord, I'm coming home to you . . .>>
"That guy's got something wrong with his head, Scully."
Mulder and Scully, switching songs and swapping gum.
Evil_Little_Dog's
Cassadaga Bound
Dana squinted out the car window. "I don't think there's enough room in this town for all the witches, or demons, or devils in Florida, let alone the world."
S3 Mulder detours he and Scully to a fortune teller's.
Travelogue
“We’re not lost.” Mulder shot her a look then turned back to the road, correcting for the drift. “We’re directionally challenged.”
Making a guttural noise deep in her throat, Scully glanced out the window.
Mulder, the car, and a ditch.
@sunlightscully's (XF Writing Challenge - Food)
They have perfected the art of car eating. The driver orders and pays and hands the greasy bag over to be unpacked. The passenger unwraps the driver’s burger. They share fries.
When he pays she asks for the bare minimum and nothing too expensive. He orders extra large milkshakes and pretends he doesn’t see her stealing sips. They compensate for each other. Ketchup has not been spilled in years.
Mulder realizes he loves Scully.
Starbuck's (FFN) Wake Me When We Get There
"Shouldn't be much longer, Scully."
She made no acknowledgment, lying her head upon the seat once again. He continued driving as she drifted in and out of consciousness. White line. White line. Yellow line.
"Wake me when we get there, Mulder."
Mulder keeps the volume down so his partner can sleep on the long drive home.
@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk's (Ao3) drabble; pay no mind
Scully paces around the car, branches and leaves snapping quietly under her weight. But she’s not angry, not at all, or nervous. She occasionally bends down to steal a sunflower seed from him and pauses to crack it before continuing her little loops.
Mulder and Scully find their own ways to entertain themselves when the rental car breaks down.
@incidental-ao3/incidental's Febuwhump 2023: The Truth is Out There (And the Fic is In Here) - Chapter 18
“No, Mulder, I should be keeping you awake, you’re the driver.”
“But I am awake,” he argued reasonably. “So there’s no reason for you to torture yourself when you could catch another few hours’ rest.”
“Don’t be dramatic, it’s not torture,” she scoffed. He smirked.
“Could’ve fooled me,” he said. She scowled sleepily.
Scully tries not to fall asleep, and Mulder ruminates on life before lights.
@mulderbabe77's Taco Stands and Regrets
He pushed down a little harder on the gas pedal.
“Are you gonna throw up?” He gulped, hoping to hear a no.
“Nope,” she answered and for a moment he almost sighed with relief. “The other thing, I think,” she finished, grimaced again and held a hand to her cramping stomach.
“I’m on it!” He sped the car up a little more.
Ten minutes later they could see the exit just ahead. Mulder was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Mulder and Scully both get food poisoning while on the road.
@hamster-on-fire/fade_into_the_dusk_with_me’s For The Sake Of Driving (Ao3)
They’d do this sometimes. Drive. They were always driving, it seemed. But when it was dark like this & he was scared like this, or tired like this, or just utterly numb like this, it was different. The curve of the road up ahead could feel like a whole conversation; the silence, an opening, & they’d both sit there, like staring at a sterile wound.
Mulder and Scully help each other decompress on long, long car drives late into the night.
Timemeantnothing's On the road again
“We helped keep the Germans from getting Thor’s Hammer.”
“Mhmm,” Scully hummed, turning the corner.
“It was Einstein, Scully. We protected Albert Einstein.”
“That was very good of us to do.”
Mulder and Scully, driving: hot ladies, aliens, cheek kisses, Triangle rambles, and Millennium contentedness.
Thank you for reading~
Enjoy!
**Note**: I am a "separate the art from the artist" person through-and-through; but my lists will no longer be featuring writers that have blocked me-- tooooooo much drama has been kicked up over that issue.
#txf#Collector's Edition#fic#Cars and Conversations#h0ldthiscat#seek_its_opposite#scullywolf#wtmulder#Timemeantnothing#mulderbabe77#hamster-on-fire#fade_into_the_dusk_with_me#Starbuck#sunlightscully#Evil_Little_Dog#cactustree#browniesandtea#incidenal#Sneakers#theramblinrose#J. C. Sun#eponine119#slippinmickeys#thatfragilecapricorn#crossedbeams#wexleresque#hllsteeth#mine#xfiles#x-files
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don't go - Billy Dunne
warnings: BILLY AND CAMILLA ARE NOT TOGETHER, drug abuse, overdose, Billy being a jerk at first, cursing
part 2
you two were in love, everyone knew it but they also knew you both hid it by acting like you hated each other.
=====
Billy Dunne: I don't know why we hated each other, and trust me I hated her, but that night I think I realized I didn't, I never could
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you couldn't even remember the past hour, let alone past day maybe two. all you knew is maybe you had taken one too many pills from strangers and that you needed to lay down.
now you don't know what happened or how you ended up in the shower but when Billy knocked and no one answered to say he was pissed was an understatement mostly cause he was there to tell you he never wanted to see you again and although that wasn't true he just wanted to get it over with.
'Billy maybe she's not up yet' Camilla had said trying to console her friend 'just go to your room and sleep, you can talk tomorrow' and he almost listened but then it happened
somebody they had never seen and someone you didn't remember even being in the room with you, opened the door for him and they both immediately new something was wrong.
Everybody new you loved to party but bringing a stranger to your was something you never ever did no matter how high or drunk.
the bathroom door was wide open and the shower curtain left alone so that water could get all over the floor but all Billy saw was you, laying in there clothes on, water running on your face not helping the fact that you couldn't find yourself remembering how to breath.
'Camilla go call 911' he screamed 'now'
his heart ached as he held you trying to get you to wake up and when you did it didn't make him feel much better being able to understand your mental state a little better,
'your here right?' you asked 'im not seeing shit now am I?'
'Im here baby, I got you.' he said pressing a kiss to your temple
'Please don't go, I love you, please just- please don't leave me.' you pleaded shaking
'I could never' he said firmly and he meant it he would never let something like this happen again he couldn't 'I love you too much'
you let out a breathy shallow laugh 'That's nice'
he couldn't stop the tears running down his face and the crack in his voice when he said 'yea it is isn't it'
-------
AUTHORS NOTE --
ok kinda happy and sad ending but I was in a sad mood.
if you want a part 2 just comment although I don't think many people read these anyway but oh well
if you do read this THANK YOUUUUU
#daisy jones and the six#billy dunne#graham dunne#daisy jones rp#sam claflin#camilla dunne#camilla morrone#imagine#oneshot#one shot#billy dunne x reader#daisy jones x you
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72 Hours (Roman Roy Oneshot)
Character/s: Roman
Word Count: 1,409
Warning/s: hospital, hospital tw, mental health, mental health tw
Tag: @locke-writes
A/N: This is something different lol. December of 2020 I checked myself into a psychiatric hospital :) It was scary and new, but it was definitely necessary. I don't think it should be a taboo subject. It's definitely not something my immediate family will or likes to bring up, but it's also not something to be ashamed of, y'know? Idk. I've been feeling bad again. Not like in 2020, that was- it was very bad, but still not great. It happens. Meds stop working. The heaviness sets in. I use writing to get through it, those bad feelings, so that's what I'm doing. Just know you're not alone when you're feeling bad. My inbox is always open, I am always willing to talk 💜💜💜💜💜💜
They are terrible thoughts. Horrible, repulsive, aching thoughts that feed off everything you are. They see the worst in you. When you’re done, that’s all there is left. The most repulsive parts of you. The bare, naked, scarred bones. You used to fear you were a bad person. A truly sinister, evil person. Now you don’t have to worry. Now you know. You are. Selfish, and evil, and a burden. Unlovable, unkind, undesirable. He doesn’t love you, not really, and he wouldn’t miss you. No one would. You’re sure of it. You’re so sure of it your bones ache. They long for the soil, muddy and rich. Your whole body wishes to be put to rest. To finally find peace. Being alive hurts. It hurts so bad sometimes. It takes everything out of you to roll from one side to the other. Things have taken up space in your bed. Books sleep soundly next to you, begging to be read. Notes, loose paper, begging to be written. You hope, in nestling with them, loving them even in rest, that they will save you from yourself. They will drag you out of this abyss you’ve found yourself falling in for a long time now. If there is a bottom, you haven’t found it yet. Every second of every minute you flinch, expecting your head to crack open, expecting your neck to snap on that solid ground. It never comes though. How much darker can things get? How much longer do you have before the light, the shrinking light, clouds over? You fear, when this is over, that everything will be gone. You will be gone. Forever. Your own mortality hangs in the balance. You claw at the rocky walls, your fingernails bloody, ripping apart. You scream so loud, for hours, but no one is near enough to hear you.
Is it my fault? Those are the first words from his mouth, the first thought behind those puppy dog eyes. You hold his face, his stubble scratchy in your palms. Did I do something wrong? You make sure your words are stern, but not scary, not angry. He bruises too easily, your peach. No. None of this is your fault. I just, I have to go away for a few days and figure things out. That’s all. 72 hours. Then I’ll be home. You muster a smile, the edges of your mouth heavy in their upturned state. He looks so small, so worried, shaking hands at his side. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. Neither do you. It’s always been something in your life. An endgame. An option when you run out of options. You talked it over with your therapist, loved and trusted, and they too believe this could be beneficial. Your bag is packed for three days. Three days apart. Basically a weekend. You can do that, right? You can manage, he can, too. You don’t think you have any other choice. Standing there, your bag at your feet, you feel the heaviness. The weight. You want to finally collapse inward like a star, bright and burning and suicidal. He looks you over, your expression, your body, everything you are. You will understand him to understand, to get it, but you don’t need to. He already does. It wasn’t an easy decision to come to. None of this has been. But if you want the hurt to stop, if you want to stop falling, then you need to leave and get help.
He picks your shirt from the laundry, holding it against his chest. He wanders around the apartment, massive, lonely without you by his side. It smells like you, the fabric. You hadn’t changed out of it in a week, week and a half. Sweaty, you’d argue, but he likes it. It’s familiar. Roaming like a ghost, restless, trapped. Mostly you sunk into the mattress, the sheets melding into your skin until you were one singular being. The tears, silent, hidden, but not quite. Coming home from work, finding your cheeks freshly wet, your eyes red and glazed over. The thoughts unsaid, but screaming. Screaming and wailing and willing you to step over that edge. Nothing about it is easy. Nothing about it is gentle. Nothing about this you could stand for much longer. Dinner, so sweetly prepared, goes uneaten. Everything sits like rocks in the pit of your stomach. Threatening to come back up again. Mostly, you push the food around your plate, managing a smile, managing interest in the conversation. You spend all day in bed, but you are unable to sleep. The bags under your eyes look like they hurt, aching, pulsing. The hollows of your eyes seem deeper, darker, haunted. Your body is so heavy. You never knew flesh and bone could feel like concrete. Every step, every movement, it is unthinkable. You curl into yourself, hoping tomorrow will be better, hoping this will go away. It won’t. It never does.
Roman didn’t know things were this bad. Even as he watched you wave from the check-in desk, even as he watched the doors close behind you and an escorting nurse, even as he waited for you to come back, a voice in his head told him things weren’t this bad. They were. You’ve been sick for a long time. He thought if he was home more, if he cooked dinner, real dinner, and cracked jokes and held you so tight at night, then it wouldn’t get this bad. Cyclical. Things got like this. But it always went away. It got bad, yes, but then it got better. Why wasn’t it going away? You didn’t have the words to describe it. He’d find you laying in the tub, the water cold, shivering, crying, unable to get out. It took too much energy, too much determination, none of which you had. Unchanged from the pajamas you wore for days at a time. He blamed himself. He wasn’t doing enough. He wasn’t there for you enough. If, if, if. You told him it was just your brain, your mind, getting a little lost. When it got lost, it was hard to find its way back. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t you, it wasn’t anyone or anything, just your brain. It would be like this for the rest of your life. You couldn’t bargain or bribe your way out of this. It had to be done. He saw the scars along your skin from the times before, when things were bad, very bad. He didn’t want anything like that from happening again.
He called you as soon as he could. Roman’s voice was shaky, unsure. You were the one easing his fears, his worries. If you didn't, no one would. He didn’t ask how it was going, he wasn't sure if he should. You sensed the curiosity, telling him your new routine. You’ve been sleeping better, easier. The food is terrible. There are doctors and therapists who are going to help you, make your brain better. He breathes a sigh of relief. Not because of what you say, but how you sound. Your tone was so scary. Scared of your thoughts, scared of what you might do. You sounded lighter. You talked as long as you could. When you hung up he went to bed with your shirt, one arm reaching out to your side of the bed. Wanting you. Needing you. Knowing this is what had to happen. Everything his father had taught him, you had he retaught. This wasn’t taboo. It wasn’t evil or wrong or anything to be embarrassed of. It’s just something that is. He counts down the hours. 48. 47. 46. . .
Soon you will be home. You will have medications, different pills, pills that will work. You will be in your own bed again right next to him. You will get better. You will feel happiness again. You will laugh and smile and it will be so genuine it hurts. And when this comes back, when everything gets dark again, because it always does, he will be there like he is now, like he has been. He will be there. Because when he made a promise to you, he made it to all of you. The good parts, but the bad parts too. The scary, mean, lying parts. The parts that tell you you aren’t worth it, that you won’t be missed. He’ll spend every day proving them wrong.
#writing#roman roy#roman roy imagine#roman roy x reader#roman roy drabble#roman roy oneshot#succession#succession imagine#succession drabble#succession oneshot#succession x reader#tw mental hospital#tw mental illness#tw mental health#tw bipolar#tw bipolar disorder
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We’ve finally arrived at an infamous line from Dracula, and I’d like to share some thoughts before anyone (like many, many critics before them) reads too much into Lucy’s comment about her three suitors.
From what we’ve seen (and will continue to see...I’m going to refer to some things that haven’t happened yet), Lucy’s intelligence is primarily interpersonal. She reads others’ mental states well, she’s strongly empathetic, feels things more acutely than others, and speaks out against what she sees as insensitivity. She has an interesting blend of demonstrativeness and reticence. Although she expresses her emotions readily when writing to her friend and when turning down Seward’s and Morris’s proposals, the way she declares to Mina, “There, that does me good,” after confessing her love for Arthur and thanks Mina for allowing her to be “able to tell you and to have your sympathy” suggests relief at being able to express something held back. She admittedly tries to be “a tough nut to crack” in front of Seward and is reluctant to give even Mina the full details of Arthur’s proposal. As much relief as she finds in emotional openness, she also seems to need to self-censor.
The reason lies in the keynote of her character: her need to please other people. One literary critic I’ve encountered has criticized her for apparently having no life beyond her mother and suitors. Lucy’s suitors do indeed take up a lot of her letters’ content, but before these letters comes a request from Mina: “Tell me all of the news when you write. You have not told me anything for a long time. I hear rumours, and especially of a tall, handsome, curly-haired man???” Lucy obligingly gives her friend the information she knows her to be most interested in hearing. As she tells Mina, “I have nothing to tell you. There is really nothing to interest you” (emphasis added). What we know of Lucy so far is only what she believes is relevant to Mina’s interests.
While she does love Arthur greatly, it's telling that the first thing she tells Mina about him is “he and mamma get on very well together; they have so many things to talk about in common.” Presumably he and Lucy relate to each other too, but her primary concern is her mother’s approval of her love interest. Once engaged to Arthur, she is careful to tailor herself to his preferences. Likewise, she filters her emotions through the need to please; she admits she’s “very, very happy” at her engagement but considers herself undeserving and vows to “try in the future to show that I am not ungrateful.” Even while struggling with some incredibly traumatizing things herself, she shows concern for Mina’s anxieties about Jonathan and tries to console her. Later, we’ll see that her letters to Mina and her personal diary present very different pictures of her state; she glosses over her own pain to keep her friend from worrying. She similarly tries to “cheer up” to keep Arthur from being “miserable to see me so” and downplays her problems for the sake of her ailing mother. Even her private diary’s last entry ends not with a comment for her own benefit but an address to others: “Thank everybody for being so good to me! Thank God! Good-night, Arthur” It is as if she struggles to conceive of an identity for herself beyond her relation to others.
Given Lucy’s family situation, it makes sense that she would grow up with this mindset. As the only daughter of a widow, she is her mother’s only immediate family, and pressure seems to be placed on her in this relationship. Her mother expects her to marry, and Lucy does so, with attention to which suitor her mother gets along with. Her mother’s will even leaves “the whole estate, real and personal” to Arthur, requiring that Lucy marry him if she is to have any inheritance. Lucy seems reluctant to be open with her mother, judging from her relief at being able to confide in Mina, and her insistence on concealing her increasing struggles from her mother. Although the delicate state of Mrs. Westenra’s health is ostensibly kept from Lucy, she is implied to be aware that her mother is not well and feels responsible for her health and well-being.
This quality places Lucy’s conduct toward her suitors in a new light. Her remark “Why can’t they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble?” is commonly interpreted by critics as voracious desire for as many men as possible. Lucy’s rhetorical question is indeed unorthodox, as she acknowledges, and viewed in isolation, it does appear to support a reading of an over-sexualized Lucy. However, placed back into context, it becomes more consistent with her desire to please than any unusual lust.
Lucy begins her account to Mina of the proposals with mixed feelings: “Just fancy! THREE proposals in one day! Isn’t it awful! I feel sorry, really and truly sorry for two of the poor fellows. Oh, Mina, I am so happy that I don’t know what to do with myself. And three proposals!” She is clearly flattered by the validation of attracting three men, but her happiness, as indicated later in the letter, refers to her engagement to Arthur more than to exultation at multiple conquests.
Her intermixed sorrow is not on her own account but on the behalf of the men she must reject. She shows no self-pity. Her empathetic nature takes on the emotions of her suitors in addition to her own; as she tells Mina, “it isn’t a happy thing when you have to see a poor fellow, whom you know loves you honestly, going away and looking all broken-hearted, and to know that, no matter what he may say at the moment, you are passing quite out of his life.” So she feels “so miserable, though […] so happy.” After Quincey Morris’s proposal, she is overwhelmed with guilt for “almost making fun of this great-hearted, true gentleman” as she turns him down. This deep regret at having to disappoint another good, worthy person leads her to bring up marrying multiple men as a means to “save all this trouble” of the rejected ones’ pain and her own sorrow at not being about to please everyone.
Therefore, the emphasis in Lucy’s infamous line is not lust but her own sensitivity to others’ emotional pain. Once she is engaged to Arthur, she shows no sign of wanting the other two back or seeking them out in any way. This is not the behavior of a woman driven by desire for multiple partners. Choosing Arthur pleases her mother and herself, but for someone as committed to taking responsibility for everyone’s happiness as Lucy, a solution that does not satisfy all parties can be difficult to take.
For more on this reading of Lucy, I highly recommend Leah Davydov’s article “Why Can’t They Let a Girl Marry One Man?: The Origins of Lucy Westenra’s Suitors” (Journal of Dracula Studies, vol. 18, 2016, pp. 5-29).
#this is adjusted from a paper I wrote for the British Monsters class#hence the slight difference in tone
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It’s Okay To Not Be Okay
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Summary: (Hurt/Comfort) Reader prioritizes work over themselves and Spencer helps them realize they’re important too.
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: Mental health struggles; it’s not explicitly stated what reader is dealing with
find my masterlist here!
[Please do not steal my work. Reblogs are appreciated. Happy reading!]
“I think you should stay home.”
It’s been quiet since you both got up a few minutes ago. When you heard Spencer’s phone ring you knew it was Emily calling about a new case and she was going to tell him that the team needs to leave immediately.
You got out of bed wordlessly and Spencer did the same. He knew you could figure out what was going on from previous experiences. The two of you were getting dressed and ready, walking around the bedroom and in and out of the bathroom.
You didn’t even look at the clock yet to know what time it was, but it didn’t matter anyway. If it was eleven pm or four am, you were going to be tired either way and would need an insane amount of coffee to focus on the case.
It’s most likely a missing child. That’s what it is most of the time you get a call in the middle of the night. The first few hours are the most critical, which is why you were woken up in the middle of the night and why the team is trying to leave as soon as possible.
It’s also one of the reasons why you and Spencer weren’t making conversation, wanting to hurry up and get to the jet. The other reason being you both are too tired.
But he broke the silence with a comment you should have seen coming. Your mental health hasn’t been at its best lately and Spencer had noticed. The whole team had noticed. They noticed how you didn’t participate in casual conversations, how you were constantly tired, and most importantly how you weren’t as focused as you usually were.
You knew that you couldn’t hide it from a group of profilers, but they didn’t say anything so you kept trudging on and you expected Spencer to eventually insert himself and help you. Just not at this moment.
“Why?” You turn to look at him, go bag in hand, about to reach the door to leave the apartment. He stands near the couch, holding his own bag that carries his usual slacks and sweater vests.
He stutters a moment, not sure how to say what he needs to say. He’s scared that you’ll be mad at him if he says the wrong thing. You try and get a good look at his face to get an idea of what he might say next, but it’s too dark in the big room, the only light coming from the moon outside.
“I- I just think it’s what’s best.” He shrugs his shoulders and starts walking over to you. Setting his go bag down, he takes yours out of your hand and sets it down next to his. “Just stay home.”
You can hear the waver in his voice, making your heart beat a little bit faster than it’s normal pace. You feel your chest tighten a bit at the guilt you feel for making Spencer worry so much.
“There’s no reason for that. I’m fine.” He spots your lie as soon as it leaves your mouth. But you really did think you were fine. It wasn’t until now that you realized just how not fine you were, and it showed in the form of your eyes becoming glossy because of tears.
“Y/N, please don’t lie. We’ve all seen it.”
His voice is soft, enough to make you start slowly crying. What you’ve built for yourself, your walls that kept you decent enough to do your job, are left in ruins because of the man in front of you.
“You have to stay home.” The voice crack is what does it. You let out a quiet sob and he puts a hand on your cheek to console you. “It’s okay, I promise.”
You shake your head because he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why you built those walls in the first place and why you fought hard and long to keep them there.
“No, no it’s not okay.” He tries to follow your eyes but fails when you tilt your head down to look at the hardwood floor between both your feet. “I’ve failed.”
He now puts both hands on your cheeks to tilt your head up and you look into his eyes. “What are you talking about?” He furrows his eyebrows, and looks between your eyes to try to understand where you’re coming from.
“Spence, I can’t stay home because if- if I do, that means that I’ve failed at my job.” You almost whine to him, mad at yourself for being this way. “I was hired to help people, so that’s what I have to do.”
His hands start to leave your cheeks and you wince at the loss of warmth in the chilly apartment air. He quickly makes up for it by wrapping one arm under your armpit and the other over your shoulder. He tightens his grip around you, as if you would disappear at any moment.
Your arms mimic his, clenching your hands to grab handfuls of his cardigan. You snuggle your head in between his neck and shoulder, breathing in his very faint cologne.
You’re sobbing at this point, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. One of his hands starts to rub up and down along your back, trying to bring more comfort to you.
“You can’t help others if you don’t help yourself first.” It’s very faint and you almost didn’t hear it, but you did. “You aren’t failing if you stay home.”
You want to believe him because he always knows what he’s talking about with that big brain of his, but you can’t. Your mind is set in its ways of making you think that you aren’t good enough if you can’t do your job.
“Yeah I am.” Your voice sounds broken with all your crying and you hate how weak you sound, but you know Spencer doesn’t care. He’s told you multiple times that crying isn’t weak. He’s told you how strong it makes you, being vulnerable in front of others.
He pulls away just a little bit, enough to see your face and you take the hint and pull your face away from his neck. You miss the lack of contact despite the rest of your bodies still touching, and put your forehead to his.
“No.” His tone changes from sympathetic to serious and it would have scared you if his eyes weren’t so soft. “Tell me how you’re supposed to take care of others if you don’t take care of yourself.”
You can’t tell him because you don’t have an answer, and you know that’s the point. There is no answer. You can’t do your job to your full potential if you aren’t taking care of yourself, but that doesn’t mean that it changes how you feel.
After a few seconds of standing there, the only noise being your constant sniffling and sobs, he starts talking again.
“You can’t, Y/N. You need to stay home and you need to take a break.” He unwraps one arm around you when you start to pull your head away and look down. His hand reaches your cheek again and it forces you to look him in the eye. “It doesn’t mean you’re weak and it doesn’t mean that you’ve failed. Do you understand?”
He wipes your tears away, waiting for your response. You want to believe him and you’re starting to, it’s just difficult.
You close your eyes and let out a sigh, trying to calm yourself down. “You promise?” You ask, opening your eyes and letting one of your hands free from the death grip on his cardigan. You hold it in front of him between your bodies, it curled into a fist except for the pinky.
He drops his hand from your cheek and it meets yours, him intertwining his pinky with yours. “I promise.”
You nod, knowing he’s never lied to you and he wouldn’t start now. He also wouldn’t let you leave the building with how stubborn he is, so it’s pointless to keep going back and forth if you aren’t going to get anywhere.
“Okay.” You let your lips curl into a small smile, letting him know that you’re decently fine and he can leave you at the apartment.
“It’s okay to not be okay, and it’s okay to put yourself before others sometimes.” This time he puts both his hands on your hips, pulling you in for a soft kiss. “I love you so much, and we’ll be back before you know it.”
He lets go completely and you already miss the lack of contact. You already miss him.
“Try to get some sleep.” He gives you one last kiss before grabbing his bag and opening the door.
“I love you.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#bau fanfiction#bau x reader#bau x gn!reader#bau x you#bau x self insert#bau x y/n#gender neutral reader
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Aspen
Demo: TBA
Warnings: Violence, depictions of injuries and illness, optional sexual content. Bodily mutation, horror elements.
Removing original text. I am actually taking it seriously now.
You are a demon. Or at least that is what everyone calls you. Truthfully, you don't even know what you are. When you first awoke, your entire body was covered in ash and soot. Burnt bodies were scattered around you. Like memories, frozen in time. Everyone blamed you for the destruction of the town.
More towns burned down. The people, not knowing any better, blamed it on a single person. Yet, you did not burn down those towns. Confusion littered your brain as everyone turned against you. Hunters were sent out. All with a single goal. Capture the monster that did this. Dead or alive.
You were living in the woods, close to a nearby town. A group of hunters had recently moved into the local inn. They had found you, yet they did not realize it. Having been left no choice, you joined them on their search for the demon.
Plot
The people of The Juris Kingdom have all grown used to the idea of monsters. Sure, not many have seen one, but the rumors are enough. With a new plague spreading through the land, towns being burned by a mysterious entity, the people have grown to resent the King. For all they have gone through, the King has done nothing. Always sitting on his throne, getting fat off bread and mead.
Townspeople have started rioting, but with the increase of monsters, most are too afraid to step outside their house. It is not uncommon to find a decayed body in an abandoned house, the, long dead, person being too afraid to buy supplies. Eventually starving.
With the increase in monsters, there was an increase in humans learning to bend elements to their will, crafting armor and swords that would glow in the night. Humans started evolving with the new threat.
With our MC having sleepovers with their new best friends, a new demon has risen, seeming intent on finishing the task our dear MC refused to complete.
Features
Create your own, unique character, with a variety of customization options available. Want to look like a one legged pirate? Done! Want a fancy pirate hat? Done! Choose your gender (cis, trans, nonbinary or just be an entity!), appearance and set an individual personality for strangers and friends!
Start a romance with a cast of four characters; The group leader, the arrogant hot-head, the healer or the hunter. Or, if you're feeling particularly indecisive, romance all of 'em! With all of that said, there does seem to be a very persistent stranger who keeps showing up. How strange.
Will you hide your identity from the group? Of course! Otherwise you'd be dead, and this beautiful story wouldn't be written!
Tell spooky fairytales around a campfire at night. I mean, they are just fairytales after all.
Will you end up helping your new found group, or join the stranger who seems to know a suspicious amount about you?
Crack taken seriously.
Characters
Note: The characters do have full personalities and backstories, I have just yet to write it down!
Yuri | Gender Selectable | The Leader
Keywords: Aloof, serious, but seemingly obsessive? You will understand soon, very soon.
"Detailed" Information
Rain | Non-binary | The Hot-head
Keywords: Arrogant, cocky, hates you.
"Even more detailed" Information
Mari | Female | The Healer
Keywords: Kind, respectful, hurt her friends and she will murder you :D
The links are the same, just click on the ones above.
Kasai | Male | The Hunter
Keywords: Aloof, slightly concerned about your mental state
... fine, here is a fully extensive profile look at him.
??? | Gender Selectable | The Stranger
Oh wow, so mysterious. Giving them a profile would obviously spoil it, right?
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PART 7 Craving the wild side (last part)
Dean Winchester x reader
Warnings: AOB, mentions of medical things, mentions of needles, mentions of abuse, feral alphas, light swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, sexual things
Summary: after being rescued from a police raid feral alpha Dean Winchester his placed in the rehab process where he’s a struggled case till you come along. Having his feral ness cloud over his emotions and stop him feeling it’s hard to get through till him till dreams enter his mind and yours connecting you both and doctor/patient becomes more and harder.
Last part <-
As you arrived home you leant against your steering wheel with tears in your eyes. You’d probably never see him again outside the clinic, that was your connection to him, who knows where he will go. He has no way of contacting you and you can’t give him that information without getting in trouble with the head office.
You went inside after your breakdown and sighed giving Champ a pat as he wagged his tail happily.
“Hey boy” you muttered sadly and laid down your bag.
“You’re home early” your mum said before frowning as she saw her face.
“Oh dear” she muttered and sat up, placing her crocheting down.
“What happened?” She asked getting up slowly and sitting next to you on the two seater.
“Deans my mate, I’ve been having these dreams of our life together and today I just broke down, I had an anxiety attack and I couldn’t help it, he’s been in that horrid place for thirty years mum, thirty years! He was going to be starved to death if that police officer didn’t find him. He was in fight pits and cages when I was born” you whispered tears rolling down your face as your mum wrapped her arms around you and laid back.
“I’ve been taken off his case because of what happened and our connection but I don’t know how I’ll live with myself, I can’t even help my own mate- I-“ you sobbed quietly as your mum hushed you softly and rubbed your back.
“I have to go back and tell him, what if I send him into a feral state for longer than a day” you cried as your mum comforted you.
“You’ll still be at the clinic, you can ask the head doctor how he’s doing” she offered and you shook your head.
“I can’t do it anymore” you whispered and you sensed your mums sadness.
“If I can’t help my mate then who can I help?” You added closing your eyes and crying.
You were in bed for a couple of days, you got your mum her medicine and food and helped her but apart from that you laid there and stared out the window. Champ always laid by your feet unless he had to go out or eat. Your dreams were Dean always not there or you always trying to find him, this ache constantly in your chest. You finally showered when you were called into work for a final report and to tell Dean of the change. Apparently the new head doctor had made an appearance but didn’t say anything about them taking the lead or you leaving. You dreaded the drive there, your final report written up and ready to be copied onto company files. You had no idea what you would say to Dean.
As you parked you sighed debating if you should go in or not. You finally did, heading to your office to upload the documents before Charlie knocked.
“Hey, sorry I haven’t been around much” she said and you shrugged overly tired.
“It’s fine” you muttered finishing your upload.
“How’re you holding up?” She asked.
“I feel like shit” you said and she nodded.
“What am I supposed to say to him?” You voice cracked and you gulped.
“The truth” she said.
You stood outside of Deans room, sighing as you finally opened the door. He was on his bed, he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, dark circles around his eyes and pale. He looked like you.
He perked up though and you saw the relief in his eyes as he stood and walked over.
“Dean-“ before you could speak his arms went around you. You thought he might choke you out but he was hugging you. You felt tears in yours eyes as you wrapped your arms around him tightly. You hated the sour scent of anxiety on him and cursed the implant you had. The door opened softly and a light knock came, you jolted and let Dean go as he hesitantly let you go.
“Sorry to interrupt” Rowena said and you shook your head wiping your eyes.
“I’m afraid we have some things to discuss” she said sadly and you nodded. Dean frowned slightly as you all sat down.
“Due to your connection to each other I’m afraid Dr Y/n is going to have to resign from being your head doctor” Rowena said and you saw Dean stiffen, but nod.
“You may have brief contact under supervision-“ you stopped her.
“I won’t be here” you whispered and he frowned looking to you.
“Excuse me?” Rowena asked confused.
“I’m sorry but-“ you took a deep breath.
“I’m leaving the company, quitting” you muttered seeing the hurt in Deans eyes.
“Oh- well” Rowena cleared her throat a sadness in her eyes too.
“Out” Dean muttered and your heart broke even more.
“I’m sorry” you cried softly and stood to leave.
“You can’t see this” Dean muttered as Rowena walked out with you too as you cried.
“Oh dear” Rowena sighed sadly as you heard crashing in the room. You flinched and Rowena quickly took you to her office.
“Are you sure you want to leave?” She asked as you settled into the couch and you nodded.
“I can’t help my mate for Pete’s sake” you scoffed.
“You’ve helped alphas before successfully” she stated.
“It’s different” you muttered and she nodded.
“I know the pain dear” she said sadly and you tilted your head in question.
“My mate died when we were young and I just had our first pup, I couldn’t help him as he choked to death I didn’t know what to do. That’s why I became a doctor, then it led me to this place” she explained.
“I’m sorry” you said and she smiled holding the necklace on her chest.
“He’s always here” she said.
“I will set everything in order if you really wish to leave” she said and you nodded.
“I should take care of mum more” you tried to make an reasonable excuse but it just hurt.
“Ok dear” Rowena said typing on her computer.
“Go pack your stuff I’ll deal with everything else” she smiled sadly and you nodded.
As you packed your office Charlie came in with tears in her eyes. You hugged her tightly as you felt tears in your eyes too.
“I’ll miss you” she said pulling apart and wiping her eyes.
“I’ll miss you too” you said sighing.
“I understand though, this whole thing just-“ she looked for a word.
“Sucks?” You said and she nodded.
“I wanted to be professional” she muttered and you smiled sadly still packing things up.
“What will you do?” She asked.
“Take care of mum, work on the farm properly like she did, just a normal person thing” you shrugged.
“What about your mate?” She asked and you stopped moving but didn’t answer.
“He’ll get better” you said.
“Maybe he will forgive me and see me again” you whispered.
Tags
@spnfamily-j2
@globetrotter28
@deans-spinster-witch
@spnexploration
@saranghaey
NOTES!:
I will be making a part two story called “Giving into the wild side” so technically this isn’t the end xD
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(Genshin Impact) Jean, Ayaka, and Sara fighting their mind controlled S/O
Jean is terrified of hurting her S/O, but there was no way talking was going to snap them out of the mind control.
Now she knows how Venti felt.
Her best option was to knock them out, and luckily her Vision would do that easily.
As wind swirled around her, and with a sudden burst she's able to send her S/O into the wall, making them slump.
Then, she makes the Abyss Mage by not offering them the same kindness.
Once she takes the Abyss Mage out and checks her surroundings, she immediately begins healing S/O with her Vision.
Jean sighs in relief as soon as she sees the light in S/O's eyes again.
(Jean) "S/O, are you alright?"
(S/O) "Agh...what happened?"
(Jean) "An Abyss Mage took control of you, but more importantly, are you alright?"
S/O nodded.
(S/O) "Think so...Man, my head is ringing. I think that may be from the mind control."
(Jean) "Is it sore?"
(S/O) "Yeah, actually. Specifically the back of my head."
(Jean) "Um...Right. Let's get you to back to Mondstadt."
That was definitely her Vision that almost gave them a concussion.
But she's glad she didn't wound her S/O more than she had to.
Jean orders S/O to stay with her for the next few weeks just to be safe.
Ayaka doesn't want to hurt her S/O, even if they're mind controlled.
But luckily, her Vision is going to come in handy.
She disappeared into mist before quickly appearing behind S/O and freezing their legs and arms against a wall.
(Ayaka) "Sorry, my love."
Then she turns to the Abyss Mage, who began to panic as she sheathed her sword.
(Ayaka) "Kamisato Art: SOUMETSU!"
Tearing the Abyss Mage into shreds, she quickly turns back to S/O who is still frozen against the wall.
(S/O) "...Ayaka?"
She smiles upon seeing the eyes she fell in love with.
(S/O) "Ugh my head-C-C-COLD! SO COLD!"
Her eyes widen once she realizes that they must be freezing. She's never used her Vision on them before.
(Ayaka) "My apologies! Please hang on."
She panics a little bit as she tries to get them safely down without hurting them.
(S/O) "What happened, why am I frozen like this?!"
(Ayaka) "L-Long story! Please wait a moment, I'll get Thoma!"
She rushes to find Thoma as soon as possible, but she's glad the worst is over.
She plans to make it up to them by spending a few days at their side.
YOU PICKED THE WRONG GIRLFRIEND, FOOL
Sara doesn't enjoy having to hurt her S/O, but if it's to protect Inazuma then so be it.
More importantly, she knows when to hold back so they won't get hurt as much.
(Abyss Mage) "Heheheh! With your lover under my thrall, you will be forced to-"
Sara cracks her knuckles before her fist collides into S/O's face, knocking them out instantly.
(Abyss Mage) "...Oh."
(Sara) "STORM THE FRONT!"
A massive bolt of lightning immediately strikes the Abyss Mage down before she fires several arrows into it, ensuring it's demise.
Once the battle instincts leave her, she rushes over to S/O, uncharacteristically flustered.
(Sara) "O-Oh...I hope that doesn't leave too much of a mark. S/O, are you okay? You're not mind controlled anymore."
(S/O) "..."
They were still breathing, so there was that at least.
Was it an effect of the mind control? If this was a coma then-
(S/O) "...ow..."
Okay nope, it was definitely the punch.
Sara gets them medical attention and anxiously awaits the news.
(Doctor) "S/O will make a swift recovery. Their mental state is perfectly fine, as far as we can tell."
(Sara) "Ah, thank you."
(Doctor) "Though there is one thing I might add, Lady Kujou. There is an external injury on their face, but it wasn't caused by the Abyss Mage-"
(Sara) "T-That will be all, thank you. I will be taking them into my protection now."
She walks past the doctor and into S/O's room.
(S/O) "Sara, you saved me!"
(Sara) "Of course. No one hurts you and gets away with it."
(S/O) "I may have gotten a black eye but I imagine that Abyss Mage is dealing with much worse since you got your hands on em, heh!"
(Sara) "...Y-Yeah."
(S/O) "Sara, you're not blaming yourself are you?"
Sara hugs them tightly.
(Sara) "I'm sorry I let this happen to you to begin with."
(S/O) "It's okay. There wasn't anything you could have-"
(Sara) "Uh, I mean the mark. That was me."
(S/O) "...Oh. Wow, alright yeah I think you could have eased back just a little."
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact headcanons#jean gunnhildr x reader#ayaka kamisato x reader#kujou sara x reader#jean gunnhildr#ayaka kamisato#sara kujou#sara kujou x reader
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mass effect x imperial radch fic
happy N7 day! there's still an hour left so I am NOT LATE.
I wanted to write more of this in time for today but got distracted, so have... all of what I managed to write of this fusion fic a month ago.
Summary: When Shepard fishes a half-dead turian out of Omega’s slums, she doesn’t expect to recognize him; doesn’t expect his help in her quest for answers and revenge; and certainly doesn’t imagine the galactic upheaval that will follow.
Rating: T
—
Bodies are everywhere on Omega, but this one catches EDI’s attention, even with the face caved in and the markings scraped off.
Shepard, the cool voice says in her ear, this is a former servicemate.
Sometimes it tests her last nerve. EDI is technically correct, but referring to any of the Hierarchy citizens as mates—as if her tenure had been voluntary, as if they had been equals—she finds offensive in the highest degree, and EDI should have picked up on that by now. Shepard resists the urge to curl her lip as she passes by the dumpster. She is too busy mentally reviewing her notes for her upcoming meeting with Aria to also rifle through their shared memories for a turian she has happened to cross paths with again.
A member of the Eye, EDI clarifies, and Shepard pauses.
What do you mean?
EDI doesn’t reply. It’s lately been exploring relaying information through silences, whenever it’s feeling judgmental or Shepard is being particularly dense.
Every crewmember from the Eye of Menae is dead, of course. Except her and her passenger. This one shouldn’t exist. She wonders, not for the first time, if EDI is malfunctioning, and then, not for the first time, dismisses the thought because nobody could fix it if it was, anyway.
Shepard turns around and eyes the body again.
A limp, possibly broken arm is hanging out of the skip. The helmeted head is half-crushed, revealing a pulpy mass of blue blood and a cracked, dangling mandible. The markings had been notably scraped off, crudely, likely postmortem. She thinks, based on the fringe, that it might be male. Whoever left this turian in this state did not want him recognized; Omega had already declared him forgotten. Nonconsensual Scraping was a crime in the Hierarchy punishable by jail time and/or Reeducation. It was a wonder they hadn’t dumped him in the incinerator, but perhaps there was a message in that. He wasn’t even worth the trouble to bring him down to the chutes.
She can’t identify turians without their markings, of course; even with them, it’s a challenge. But EDI can. And yet EDI is keeping quiet.
A golden symbol on the bicep catches her eye, and her stomach does sink at that recognition, because she has seen it before. On the Eye of Menae; not on any official signage, but doodled on the back of datapads, scratched into terminal corners, which she had scrubbed weekly, and could have informed a superior about, but didn’t.
She’d assumed it was some turian colony symbol, or sports team logo, or perhaps even a gang symbol. She doesn’t remember the lieutenant’s name. He had been young when he served on the Eye, newly appointed in the wake of the First Contact War due to some personal connection with the Palavenian Primarch, and everyone had known it. He had been resentful of that judgment and barely interacted with any of the ancillaries—any of the humans—which had been fine with her.
“He’s dead,” Shepard says. “And it’s not as if I can give him a funeral.” Or as if she’d want to.
He is not dead, EDI says, throwing her for a loop twice in as many minutes. He has suffered multiple contusions, fractures, and what appears to be explosion trauma to the face and neck, not to mention the Scraping. But he is alive.
His name finally comes to her. She doesn’t have any particularly strong memories of the skinny lieutenant who had served with her on Engineering Deck; outside of his graffiti habits, he had been neither remarkable nor noteworthy. Most turian lieutenants hadn’t wanted to talk to their new client race anyway: Humans creeped them out, with their ugly skin and weird, confusing fringe that “leaks” everywhere.
“After Aria,” she says.
He needs medical attention if he is to survive the night.
She nearly swears at it. All her usual rejections in response to EDI drawing her attention to satisfy some curiosity about organics—We’re busy, I can’t afford it—dry up here, because they aren’t, and she can. “Fine,” she says, aware that she sounds petulant. “I’m paying for a doctor and that’s all.”
As she drags the body out of the skip, she hopes no one would ever ask her why she saved Garrus Vakarian’s life. She couldn’t rightfully say, Because the ancillary program installed in my head told me to—nobody could know about EDI, and she’s fully capable of resisting its influence now anyway, even as persistent as it could be. She hopes no one would ever ask because even as she sets his arm and lumbers off to find a doctor with his limp body hoisted onto her back, she still does not know why herself.
–
Three hours later, she has dragged Vakarian to two clinics that refused to take him for reasons they will not explain, his face slowly soaking blood on her shoulder, and she is reconsidering every decision she’s made this afternoon.
We do not have enough information, EDI replies after Shepard has called her out for their situation. I cannot determine a cause for their disinclination without more knowledge of local politics.
They have more than enough information, Shepard wants to snap. She’s been spat on or refused service nearly every hour she’s interacted with someone here. She’s a human, and the galaxy is full of bigots. But EDI is turian-made, programmed to view and treat every Citizen as equal despite racial politics, and sometimes convincing an AI of organic realities is like arguing with a wall.
Even with her implants, lugging around a two-hundred-pound turian for hours is exhausting. She is starting to wonder if he’s actually died by now, but EDI would surely say something if he had, and not achieving her goal after this long is starting to feel like a point of personal pride.
She dumps him outside of a motel for a moment while she walks in and rents a room. The bored batarian behind the counter fortunately doesn’t blink at the blood staining her clothes; it’s nothing remarkable around Omega, but on a human, it could be used as an excuse to deny entry.
Shepard thanks him, then drags the turian inside and over to the creaking elevator. As she passes, the batarian raises his brows in a way that says, If people come after you, I’m ratting you out immediately, which she supposes is fair.
She dumps Garrus Vakarian onto the single bed and observes him, prone and anonymous. Even knowing his name, having seen him daily and stood with him onboard the Eye during routine inspections, she still would not have been able to recognize him out of a lineup now. She should really learn how to tell turians apart; but then again, he wouldn’t be able to recognize her, either.
Most aliens find humans unsettling to look at: their eye contact too alarming, their smiles too rude, their hair too weird, and on and on. Salarians are forever complaining how some humans looked identical, and others too different due to some indecipherable criteria Shepard can’t understand; she supposes whatever their categorizations, they are not unlike human concepts of gender and race, which remain baffling to most aliens fifteen years post-First Contact. Asari are at least polite to one’s face, perhaps because due to the overlap of external body appearances, though Shepard never expected help from them as a Council race who had voted for humanity’s subjugation.
Operating from a weird suspicion, before she leaves the room, she strips the logo from his armor and tucks it into her pocket.
She has done what she can for him without tools or help. She mentally questions how much effort she will put into this; but she is, unfortunately, versed in turian anatomy enough to know his state is critical, and even if she had forgotten, EDI is there to supplement her knowledge with the extranet and her own database on turian biology. So she sets off to a local pharmacy—which contains a bare bones stock of medigel, painkillers, and gauze—then asks the clerk for a local, quiet doctor, and flashes some credits. They give her the address of a fellow around the corner and warn her he might not take humans.
The turian doctor is a retired vet who indeed nearly closes the door on her, claiming he cannot help aliens, before she puts her foot in the gap and explains her turian bodyguard has been attacked and needs immediate care. She blames it on clan discrimination—the Hierarchy would have Citizens believe that is not a thing, but Shepard knows organic behavior too well to believe that’s true—and explains that he has been “Scraped” as proof, something they say only gangs are barbaric enough to perform on another.
Turians can’t pale, but he does grow eerily quiet at that news. “Wait here,” he says, and disappears into his apartment for five minutes before emerging with a medical bag and a new visor, which feeds him data. “Before I go anywhere, I’ll need half up front.”
So she pays him half up front, adding it to the tab that Vakarian will owe her when all of this is done.
In the motel, Doctor Ubex looks at Garrus Vakarian for all of half a second before tsk-hissing—a turian expression of annoyance—and getting to work.
“He’ll survive,” he tells her half an hour later, after he’s stitched Vakarian’s face back together and plastered it with a bandage. “Although in what condition, I can't say. You’ll have to stay awake and apply the disinfectant and medigel to his face every other hour for the first twelve hours, then refresh until it gets bloody. I don’t have the energy to stay up all night, and it would quadruple your bill, anyway.”
Her appointment with Aria was already down the drain today. “How much medigel will that be?”
“More than whatever you have. It’s not just the side, it’s all over his mandibles and nose. Wherever the markings were—the Scraping was unprofessional, it rubbed off a protective layer of chitin. His face will be prone to infection until it grows back, which may take months. Come here.” He motions her over and she reluctantly steps up to his side, looking where he points to a clear-blue ooze coming from the side of Vakarian’s nose. “He’ll need regular medigel applications for the next several days, until the discharge stops.” He taps his visor and more information scrolls through his feed. “The rest of it is just bone-setting. They should be done in the next few days with the splints, but he should move as little as possible and be fed non-chewables until he can use his left side without pain. I managed to save the teeth, but he’s in for a painful recovery even with meds.”
He leaves her with a set of verbal instructions that she doesn’t bother writing down; EDI records everything for her anyway. With a final word of caution to avoid going planetside until the chitin grows back, she pays him his remaining fee, and he pauses in the doorway.
“If you have any more questions, ask me now,” he says. “I won’t answer my door if you come back. I don’t want to get involved in whatever this is.”
Shepard doesn't know enough about turian biology to know what else she should ask; she has already asked EDI’s questions during the initial interrogation. “That’s all. Thank you, Doctor.”
After he leaves, EDI comments, He served him without question, unlike the others.
Shepard strides over to the sagging armchair, watching Vakarian’s chest rise and fall on the bed, his bandaged face unmoving, and doesn’t reply.
I imagine your suspicion was correct. The others recognized the logo, and feared to treat him to anger his enemies. It had nothing to do with your race.
Shepard keeps her sights focused on her inexplicable new charge, and does not say, Shut the fuck up.
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Apparently people really likes my sagau post where the creator shapeshifts into a cat to avoid being hunted down as the imposter.
SO I'M MAKING A FULL ON POST ABOUT IT (this is my first time posting something like this so forgive me if it kind of sucks).
How would Genshin Characters react to finding out their pet cat was their beloved Creator??
featuring Diluc, Jean, Albedo, Klee, and Venti. Can be seen as platonic or romantic (except Klee lol).
WARNINGS?: idk just you being a cat, genshin sagau, imposter au, reader is the creator, probably trigger warnings for cult stuff and mentions of being hunted down/almost dying, reader has rainbow blood instead of gold because I am pushing my rainbow blood reader agenda, pretty sure it's gender neutral but if not then whoops, fluff, Crack, AND angst. A full three course meal guys, eat up 🤩
All writings below were written by me. Genshin Impact is made by Hoyoverse <3
SCENARIO -- you have suddenly been isekai'd into Genshin, and of course it's the imposter au. BUT you decide to test your powers, and shapeshift into... a cat. now it is time for you to get adopted so you don't starve and die while trying to figure out why the heck your favorite characters now want to kill you.
DILUC:
as stated in the post where I randomly came up with this idea, you'd probably sneak into the tavern while he happened to be working
probably originally went there to try and find venti and exact revenge on him. because HE LITERALLY TRIED TO KILL YOU.... when you were in human form
now you're just a lovable cat who can do no wrong 🥰🥰
BUT when you find diluc there, you're like "HECK YEAH" and do EVERYTHING you can to gain his favor.
INCLUDING scratching Kaeya, knocking over the empty cups of drunkards who have had one too many shots to stop them from having another, and more.
Diluc was gonna kick you out... but you're helping him. Sort of. Still finds you a bit bothersome.
And when he tries to leave...
You follow him home. Mustering up your best meow and trying to get him to "come home".
he finally caves in when adeline says he should. But he's glad he did.
You stick to him like GLUE. he's often out on missions as the darknight hero, and you are a great helper, surprisingly.
It's almost... TOO good to be true. It's like you understand what he is saying...
Probably gets suspicious and asks you to your furry face if you're with the Abyss Order or somethin. You just tilt your head in confusion and meow because you are just a lovable floof who does no wrong
Finally finds out you are the Creator while out on a mission. One of the enemies tries to attack him, but you block it instead, your hind leg bleeding RAINBOWS???
I mean... certainly felt your presence was odd, but... YOU'RE THE CREATOR??????
gets embarrassed by all of the times you saw him changing in his room dhdjdvegsi
When in private, you shift into your human form and explain the WHOLE situation about you just... being isekai'd here.
He becomes one of your most loyal followers from then on, even if he wasn't particularly religious before then.
continues to call you by the pet name he gave you as a cat, instead of "Your Grace", which you find comforting. he still mentally sees you as a cat though, since you continue to take on that form even after he knows your true identity
JEAN:
Jean is... you fear her. Especially after the whole imposter hunt, because she was one of the big people leading it.
You weren't originally planning on getting stuck with her, either. You had originally planned to stay with Diona as one of her new cats at the cat's tail
but that didn't work out because you smelled FOOD at good hunter.
and everyone (and cat) LOVES food.
so you go there and see Jean eating a meal with Lisa. Feeling the anger course through you, you swiftly steal her meal and eat it... and then get caught.
she originally thinks you were one of Diona's cats, but when Diona says she doesn't recognize you... Jean takes you in
Because SOMETHING was pulling her to you (spoiler alert, it was your magical creator aura because yOu'Re SpEciAL-
Over time, you grow a lot closer with her. you even almost forget that she tried to kill you 😀
Key word, almost 🙄
but you really see that she's just loyal and cares about you. She's been misled by the imposter creator, who currently rules Teyvat, and just wants the best for you.
So you soften your heart... and forgive her. Because she's given you a lot of love while you've been a cat.
You mostly help her out by getting more pens and ink while she works. You also bring her snacks and occasionally push the ink bowl away to remind her to take breaks :)
Here's the problem though -- I can't ever imagine you getting into some sort of accident and bleeding under her care. She definitely recognizes your aura as abnormal and like the creator's, but isn't. Connecting. The dots.
So you literally injure yourself and show her your rainbow blood to get her attention.
OH MY ARCHONS YOU'RE THE CREATOR AND YOU'RE BLEEDING YOUR GRACE NO-
SEVERELY apologizes when she heals your wound (in human form). Good luck going back into cat form because she is STILL going to call you "yOuR gRaCe"-
Probably hides you in her house or something, and tries to get more people on your side to take down the imposter ruling Teyvat. Also probably tries to call off the hunt in Mondstadt, giving reasons like "we haven't seen them in several months they're probably dead lol"
Overall she had a good redemption arc 👌
ALBEDO:
I hate to fall into the cliche of "Albedo recognizes the imposter as the true creator in every imposter au fic 🥺" but,,,,
that's exactly what happens. Sorry guys, couldn't resist the temptation
Immediately recognizes something is wrong when he watches your reactions from afar as they surround you. He can feel your aura SO STRONGLY, how is everyone else SO STUPID-
luckily you got away, but were heavily injured. Albedo didn't know where you went after you escaped until he found you in dragonspine (ofc 🙄)
He saw all of the colorful bruises (literally), and decided to take you in. You explained your situation, and tried to come up with a solution together.
When you mention that it seems you can shapeshift, he's actually the one that suggests you shapeshifting into a "pet".
and you COMPLETELY go along with it (because it is secretly fulfilling all of your fantasies, sexual or not), transforming into a Lil kitty.
NOBODY suspects you two. Albedo is Albedo. He is curious of the world and of life, so it was expected that eventually he would take in some sort of pet. And you're just such a good kitty 🥺
Also lets you play with klee and occupy her from time to time. Klee has definitely been like "she reminds me of the creator!" And then albedo has just been like "ah that's nice🙃"
Overall you're pretty good in his care. He still sometimes slips a "Your Grace", but he treats you as an equal and partner in taking down the real imposter
KLEE:
you probably found her in cat form while heading to the city. She was fish blasting (ofc), and decided to try and feed you some of the fish she caught 🥺
Surprisingly good btw. BUT she gets caught...
But not without begging Jean to let her take you home.
Jean reluctantly agrees, after MUCH begging and crying from Klee
tbh, Klee doesn't even understand why she likes you so much. She feels an aura, sure, but she just thinks you're a nice cat. Doesn't suspect you ONCE.
that is, until you accidentally get injured by one of her bombs. SHE RUINED YOUR GORGEOUS FUR 🤬🤬🤬
she sees the burn marks (which are literally rainbow colors 🌈) and is like "huh,,, dodoco is it normal for cats to have rainbow bruises????"
SO SHE ASKS ALBEDO and he's like "... no. Lemme look at your cat please archons this isn't right"
And Albedo definitely recognizes that you are the creator... but he has a TON of questions.
Decides to tell klee, but tells her she has to keep it a secret.
She never sees you in your human form btw. Klee will now forever see you as a cat who has been guiding her life even before arriving in teyvat
just imagine a cat playing genshin lol
And she's probably too young to understand the titles either. Just keeps calling you by whatever name she gave you as a cat
VENTI:
IMMEDIATELY when he met you at the Cat's tail, he knew something was wrong.
At the time, you'd been staying with Diona and the other cats. And venti SHOULD be having an allergic reaction.
But for SOME REASON, he wasn't?? In fact, any allergy symptoms just... went away when you were near.
He was so puzzled?? Albedo happened to hear about it, and suggested that maybe this "cat" (AKA you) didn't produce the protein in their spit that would normally make him allergic to you
And yes, for those who are allergic to cats, you're not allergic to their fur. You're allergic to a protein in their spit. Normally you would need that protein to survive, BUT you're the creator so <3
You end up following him because of his nice music. Despite him being broke (and barely able to feed the both of you), his company is still welcome
I feel like he would be against the whole "hunting down the imposter" thing, unlike the other archons
but since he's the God of freedom, he let's his people continue their search and hunt you down.
he probably finds out for some stupid reason that you're the creator (like you fall out of a tree climbing and scratch yourself or something)
Apologizes for not doing anything before after you go into your human form and explain.
Probably still occasionally calls you "Your Grace" in private as a tease, but won't do it if it makes you uncomfy. Mostly uses your cat name, since he knows how serious revealing your identity can be
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would welcome any more tickle headcanons you’ve got about ted from ted lasso 🤭😁😁😁
here we go-go, mu-cha-cho!
Lee!Ted
Because of Ted's people-pleasing mentality, we all know he wants everyone around him as happy as possible at all times.
That means he can totally ler it up, but because I am so deeply in love with Jason Sudeikis and Ted Lasso equally.... I can't not let my cute man be on the receiving end of some tickles.
I can see Ted being all 'awwwhawhaw! you got me!' after he's jogged around with someone chasing him, letting them get close enough to actually get him, obv.
Ted isn't quite sure how to handle getting tickled for real, honestly.
He's been jostled and huddled and hugged so much in his life, what with his duties as a coach and having a close team around him at all times. And it always makes him smile and chuckle.
But getting tickled definitely takes some getting used to for him. And like anything new for Ted (minus the start of therapy, I suppose), he welcomes the experience with open arms and a willingness to try it out.
He's really jumpy at the start of it, when someone would give him pokes/jabs/quick wiggling fingers somewhere sensitive. But it always illicits a giggle.
I imagine Ted being really open to letting Rebecca try this out on him, what with the amazing close friendship they've developed.
And she's so teasy and so delicate with him that it drives him NUTS.
Literally Ted can melt into a puddle of whines and wheezes and giggles with ler!Rebecca coming after him.
He's a big safe word guy, even if it's literally 30 seconds of casual, playful tickling. Similar to the 'Oklahoma' safe word used in the show, I'm sure this one would be another state or perhaps a town in England to even up the playing field. Or honestly something utterly silly like a player's name (Bumbercatch! Tartt!).
Rebecca cracks up when her and Ted have gotten to the point where he'll just start yelling random words through his laughter to get her to ease up. And she always does. He chooses a new word every time a tickle attack happens and just repeats it over and over again. Rebecca knows all of Ted's signs by now so she knows when not to overstep.
Ted slowly finds some comfort in getting tickled. It sends shivers up his spine when he gets the itch for it, or when he knows it's heading his way.
Ler!Ted
Ted definitely has an easier time falling into the ler role.
He loves when he sees tickling used as a form of bonding between the players. It doesn't fluster him unless the tickling's aimed his way (sorry sorry I'll stop with lee!ted 😉).
He's playful and loving as all hell with his son so of course he's thrown tickles in there when Henry was younger.
Getting out of the in-character canonness of the show, and moving to the general xoc or xreader side of tickling, I have a few thoughts...
If Ted finds out you're ticklish, it'll be like you'd given him his Christmas gift early.
But he'll take things slow, again, not having tickling being a recurring part of his own personal life.
His first step would be to get more cuddly with you, more than he's ever been before. Like a warm up to prepare for what's coming.
He'll pepper in ticklish kisses in sensitive spots like the neck, collarbones, the inside of the wrist/palm of hand, on/behind the ear.
And from there depending on the mood he finds himself in, he'd either deliver the most loving ticklish gestures and kisses OR he'd be evil-ler-dad-mode and attack with tickles.
You bet your ass Ted uses his bristly mustache to his advantage and your demise. That poor belly...
Like Rebecca does with him, Ted absolutely respects any boundaries when it comes to tickling.
But he'll be a teaser while it's happening, of course. Saying his typical funny, naive, simple Ted things. I am clearly not up to par with the Ted Lasso writing staff, so I cannot come up with much of anything good he'd be saying. But you get the idea.
"Ooohwee I didn't know this was such a good spot!"
"You've been holding out on me."
"Geez! With all that kicking you're doing, I could put you to good use at Richmond!"
"Who knew tickling someone could be so damn fun?"
Happy Ted makes brain go brrrr!
#ted lasso#answered ask#ask#anon ask#anonymous ask#ted lasso ask#ted lasso tickle#ted lasso tickles#ted lasso tickle headcanons#ted lasso hcs#ted lasso tickle hcs#ler!ted#lee!ted#tickler!ted#ticklish!ted
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Blood for Treasure
Caruki >>> Azushin Merman Au >>>
The water kept in a tank will never be compared to water in the ocean. Nothing vast and full of life compares to plastic and fake stones, the dyed fake plants that give the tacky look like in a dentist office. It’s already been painful with the separation of family, no exact contact being at aid. Considering the blessing of not being captured by a butcher, which wouldn’t be pleasant, being under the eyes of the Hunter Brother’s was the second worst.
Check it off the list, maybe the hope will sink in, but the list has been empty with no method to escape the surface. Like a broken ark, there’s no overzone. Just hearing the conversations among Shin and Carla was enough to add to Ruki’s awareness that the slim chance of getting to the ocean alive might be impossible. It’s been two weeks since he and Azusa got separated after the capture, leading to unnecessary worries sinking in. Even if there wouldn’t be a physical encounter, a visual for the brothers to see one another would be great nonetheless, a gift.
The couple tries to break the glass and almost got Ruki killed as many death threats were sent to him. He needs to get out of here, him and Azusa. Of course, he’s worried for Kou and Yuma, who barely can keep civil without a fight breaking out over a clam. Stress and unwanted thoughts kept slipping through the cracks.
Nighttime came and Shin was granted permission to take the boat on his own, whereas Carla would keep in his study. The goal of Carla is to cure his illness, past attempts and visits from differ places diagnosed with the disease he had to be untreatable. Same with Yuma and Kou, Shin wouldn’t know what to do if Carla wasn’t around, only knowing what he’d want to see or expect from his younger brother; Carla is what keeps Shin going.
For once, Ruki was able to sleep, relying on the mini updates about Azusa as his medication to knock him out peacefully. For the first time within a couple weeks, he hasn’t seen Carla within the twenty four hour day.
Deep in a slumber, nothing, yet something, could disturb the merman. The time changed to two in the morning the following day, and Carla was still doing his research at the moment.
No way he was ready to rest, he never dared to bat an exhausted eye.This illness of his was killing him, mentally and physically. He’s desperate at this point, going for the past five years to make no progress. The research finding was more brutal compared to the poison flowing through the veins. Nothing was wrong with coming up with new solutions and ideas, and Carla went with that. He absolutely took the bullet, and dodged it too.
Meanwhile, back in the closed, secured room, Ruki slowly woke up to the sound of someone entering the room. He’s grateful enough that the tank he was casually dropped into was able to hold his long, silky body.
Such a metal and solid material door slams with an echo as Carla appears in the room, the braid once in his hair taken out and splayed smoothly down along his dorsal.
“Are you awake?” He asked, taking a glance over at the filled tank.
Ruki squints with the broad lighting from above flickering on, “Are you asking me if I’m ready for you to harass me once more?” He sassed, tapping a sharpened nail at the glass with a sway to the tail, “No, I am not awake.”
“Do not get on my nerves, Mukami.” Carla states, approaching. “I am at my limit where you simply lie around dainty and still to sleep, whereas I must keep going for a profit.”
“A profit you get paid for taking my brother and I from our homes, indeed, you are getting paid good.”
It’s true, Carla was ready to snap like he hasn’t already. His composure doesn’t faltar, nor do his reactions to Ruki’s smartass mouth.
“You ARE aware of what time it is? You WILL cooperate with me without further notice, WITHOUT hesitation.”
“Haven’t we given you and Shin enough?” Ruki questioned, being genuine. “You took blood samples, scale samples, and even chipped off one of our teeths for testing, what else could you possibly require?”
“A cure,” Carla spoke, getting up on the step stool beside the tank to open it from above, “I am taking you out, do not resist me.”
“And where are you planning to keep me? In a museum?”
“Do not make this more difficult than it has to be.” With that, Carla found himself literally dragging Ruki by an arm to lift from the water.
He’s strong, but Ruki is stronger thanks to his canal fin thrashing around. After a few minutes of struggle, Carla carried Ruki out of the room and into the lab-like room the merman disliked very much. Like earning lethal injection for a death sentence, Ruki was sat uncomfortably and strapped in a chair, swaying his tail in a brief attempt to grow adjusted.
Carla already started getting himself situated, the elastic on his wrist being used to put his hair up so it wouldn’t get in his face. He notices how Ruki stares intensely at him, like a predator watching over its prey.
“You stare with no fear, are you used to this treatment?”
“What is the valid point of expressing fear?” Ruki tilted his head, “I already know you and your brother get a kick from it.”
“Please,” Carla went through a drawer to find gloves, “Understandable on Shin’s behalf, but do not group me with him.”
“But he is your brother, correct?”
“Yes, but we’re not alike under some sections.” Carla ended up clarifying, shortly returning to stand in front of Ruki. He eyes him, examining; “Your stitches haven’t healed fully, so doing any further cutting along a strong tail would be absurd.”
“You never specified what you needed EXACTLY from my body,” Ruki mentioned, huffing, “You want something such as a urine sample?”
“Your urine is the last thing that will ever become an interest, even though it would be worth money.”
“Then what is it?”
“I want more blood samples,” Carla came beside Ruki this time and started gingerly keading and poking at his upper arm. Ruki doesn’t flinch or resist. “Unlike the four tubes we took from your brother, I’ll be taking triple the amount from you.”
“Twelve tubes of blood?” Ruki asked, “You want TWELVE tubes of MY blood? For what type of documents is this required for?”
“None of your business, the most I shall tell you is it’s for me, only me.”
Creepy enough for those having a fear of getting their blood drawn, imagine twelve tubes. Once the needle is in, surely nobody can feel it outside of the tiny pinch. These needles, unlike in a doctor's office or hospital, were bigger with longer tips. Easily, the nerves would feel every ounce of said needle sinking through the flesh, it kills.
Before Ruki could say another word to form another question, his head was turned to one side forcefully, his teeth gritting. Unlike trying to find a vein along a limb, Carla was trying to go for the neck, where blood isn’t normally drawn from.
“Loosen yourself up,” Carla demanded, extending an arm to the trey nearby on the counter to reach a syringe, “It’ll be painless if you cooperate with me.”
“I refuse, ESPECIALLY with the lack of information you won’t give to me,” Ruki tried to resist against a compelling force, though Carla has more upper body strength than him.
No fear shows by any means, mentally? Of course, the merman indeed has fear mentally for his santiy. It would be an overload of feelings, and that would begin to tank on someone’s health in every catergory. Without realizing at first, an echo of a grunt, a yell in addition, echoed through the hall from the lab.
#diabolik lovers#nixxio moodboard#diabolik lovers fanfiction#caruki#azushin merman au#nixxio au#nixxio text#nixxio stories#carla tsukinami#tsukinami carla#ruki mukami#mukami carla#diahell#dialovers#diabolik lovers fandom
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Seizure
A Harry Potter story
Characters: Severus Snape, reader / Y/N (she/her), Minerva McGonagall
Summary: Reader has a seizure in class and Professor Snape helps
Part 1/5
Seizure in the dungeon
“Detention Miss Y/L/N for daydreaming during my lesson,” Professor Snape’s voice called over the class. She didn’t react, she couldn’t. Her face was blank, eyes glazed over. Severus walked closer in an attempt to catch her attention. It didn’t work. Getting increasingly annoyed, he stood right in front of her desk. A quill was in her hand, but the ink was just dripping down on the parchment, ruining her essay.
He squinted his eyes at her, looking at every little feature. “Miss Y/L/N,” he said firmly.
No reaction, not even a little flinch like usual. Snape’s head was hurting by then as he tried to figure out why she was ignoring him. Settling on the thought of her just being an annoying teenager, he strode away, leaving his robes swirling in the wind. He dumped his body on his chair at the teacher’s desk, still eyeing the girl in anger.
The bell rang and the Professor dismissed the class. Students quickly left in order to escape the piercing eyes of Snape, everyone except Y/N. She still sat blankly on her chair. A disturbing pale expression had taken over her face.
“Detention isn’t until tonight. Leave,” he said coldly, fidgeting with a few essays on his desk. Upon not hearing her pack her things and leave, he looked up. He noticed a slight twitch in her hand, the quill dropped.
“Miss Y/L/N?” he said. His black eyes scanned her body with caution. Her breathing pattern were off beat, minor twitches in her wrists.
Severus stood up, readying himself to having to drag her to the Hospital Wing. He leaned over her desk in an intimidating way, taking a closer look. There was another twitch along her jaw. That was new.
“Y/N?” he said. He waved a hand in front of her eyes, but she did not acknowledge him in any way. The twitching increased, leaving her face looking painful. Her arms stretched out in a cramp along with her legs. With a quick movement, Severus took hold of her body and lowered her to the ground. Her back arched, banging her head on the floor with a crack. Snape grimaced at the sound, using ‘Accio’ to retrieve a pillow from his chambers. Gently, he lifted her head and placed it underneath.
Severus watched helplessly as the convulsions slowed down. He was kneeled down next to his young student, one hand guiding her head onto the pillow whenever a movement threatened to hit it the floor, and the other hand running through his black hair. Severus was clearly in a state of distress, but not as bad as his student.
A seizure, that much had he figured out. The reason behind it, was something he couldn’t find. No rumors of her being injured the days prior, no history of it happening and he had heard nothing of her being on any kind of medication or potion. He let out a shaky breath, he sure hated not knowing.
As soon as he was sure that there were no after twitches, he gently stood up with her laying in his arms. She was light as a feather much to the annoyance of the Professor. He made a mental note to keep an eye on her during meals, she needed to be more than bones.
“In case you can hear me, it’s Professor Snape. I am taking you to the infirmary, you had a seizure,” Severus spoke in an uncharacteristic sweet tone as he walked out of the classroom. To his luck, most students were already in their classes, only a few free period students were left. He got a few strange looks, but no one dared to ask questions. His usual stern and cold look were plastered on his face, hiding his emotions away.
“Severus! What are you doing?” Professor McGonagall asked as she walked around the corner. Her mouth was hanging open at the sight of the dungeon bat carrying an unconscious student bridal style.
“She had a seizure, I’m taking her to the Hospital Wing,” he simply stated as if it obvious. He continued to walk, ignoring the woman following him. The walk seemed endlessly long, if it hadn’t been for her being lightweight, he would had stopped to catch his breath. Minerva was jogging behind them, firing question after question.
“Severus, please, tell me what happened,” she pleaded. Her voice was laced with concern. Minerva cared for Y/N more than she cared to say out loud. She was an excellent student, top of her class, friendly and passionate about magic. The young girl had even taken an interest in spending time with the teachers engaging in talks over tea whenever there was time.
“She had a seizure as I mentioned before, hit her head and have not yet woken up. Now, will you stop talking and open the door,” Severus suddenly spat out, he was looking sternly at his colleague, waiting for her to open the door to the infirmary. She nodded, knowing very well that she would not get the answers she was hoping for. The door flung open and in walked the sore sight of the two teachers and the student.
“Oh dear,” Poppy exclaimed. Quickly, she found an empty bed and motioned for Severus to lay her down. He did so, not taking his eyes of her. Not even when Madam Pomfrey pushed him further away.
Poppy ran her diagnostic charms, running around the student for several minutes before running off to get the necessary remedies. Severus used ‘Accio’ to find a chair, sitting down next to the medical bed, still looking at the student, his student. He had no intention to leave before he had answers as to how a student suddenly seized in his classroom.
He needed to know how to prevent it as it was truly horrifying to watch. If possible, he would prefer not to carry her once more. The looks of the few students who had seen him running through the halls with someone in his arms were enough to scar him for life. The scene would run around the school in the matter of hours, and he dreaded the looks he would get from students and teachers, not to mention all the questions.
“Hmm…” Poppy’s voice snapped Severus out of his thoughts. He looked up for the first time, noticing McGonagall sitting next to him on a similar chair. He huffed at the sight. Great minds think alike. The look on her face was expressionless, which could only mean that she was truly worried beyond emotions at that moment.
“What’s the diagnosis, Poppy? I don’t have all day,” Severus hissed. The mediwitch shot him a dirty glare before her expression softened. Severus was not a man who enjoyed showing he cared, but she knew he did and thereby brushed off his hard exterior like she usually did.
“She’ll be alright, just need some rest. I need to do more test to find the culprit to Miss Y/L/N’s… incident,” Madam Pomfrey explained. A loud sigh filled the ears of Professor Snape, Minerva sat smiling at the news.
“Very well, call me if any of you need something,” McGonagall said as she stood up, ready to head out the door. Snape looked at her with a puzzled look. She laughed at his behavior, simply telling him that she knew him better than he thought and that he wouldn’t leave until he had answers. Severus looked down at his feet, a barely noticeable tint of red covered his cheeks. Of course she would know. Minerva smiled at him, turned around and left the student to rest.
#harry potter#severus snape#severus x reader#Severus x y/n#seizures#reader#y/n#fanfic writing#seizure#Severus Snape x reader
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ASOS; Steel and Snow: 12 TYRION II (pages 161-172)
Tyrion visits Varys to arrange a date with Shae, then sics Bronn on a bard.
-
The eunuch was humming tunelessly to himself as he came through the door, dressed in flowing robes of peach-colored silk and smelling of lemons.
lemon(s) = 🥛
also I have just had the best mental image of Modern Day AU Varys as a Drag Queen. Probably runs a club with all the best gossip.
"I am full of surprises. Are you cross with me for abandoning you after the battle?"
"It made me think of you as one of my family."
Ha! that is both a sick burn, and also really sad.
... damn.
Maegor: 3 x Grand Maesters by Axe
Aegon II: 1 x Grand Maester by Dragon Digestion
That "maesters wrecked the Targaryens actually" theory sounding more and more likely. Look at all this extra motive.
Bronn had turned up all he could on Ser mandon, but no doubt Varys knew a great deal more... should he choose to share it. "The man seems to have been quite friendless," Tyrion said carefully.
"Sadly," said Varys, "oh, sadly. You might find some kin if you turned over enough stones back in the Vale, but here... Lord Arryn brought him to King's Landing and Robert gave him his white cloak, but neither loved him much, I fear. (...) Ser Barristan was once heard to say he had no friend but his sword and no life but duty... but you know, I do not think Selmy meant it altogether as praise.-"
OOOHHHH!!!! I just had a conspiracy theory.
Cersei didn't hire Moore to kill Tyrion, Moore was taking a chance to kill who he believed was responsible for Jon Arryn's death after getting news from the Vale from on old friend who still lives there re: the very rigged Trial and Lysa's (very loud and false) claims. Moore was taking the first opportunity for vengeance that he thought he could get away with.
What do you think? Feasible? Too much crack?
One day, I am going to come up with a conspiracy theory that contains so much pure crack, the cops will break down the door for a drug bust.
But also, given how this series uses perceptions and assumptions, even if we're in some one's POV, we don't always get the full story, but it is the best way to be sure someone actually did something for realsies.
... You know, I'm actually kind of surprised they let Lollys keep the foetus (or are forcing her to keep the foetus) to term. You'd think, given how they treat bastards and such, that they'd remove 'such a stain' before it became a problem.
(Or at the very least they wouldn't force a young woman who's been violated to carry a baby she never asked for. But then again this series does not care very much for the female members of the cast. The kind ongoing of trauma and dysphoria that is probably giving her, whether it looks that way or not in her current mental state...)
"To guard the king's life, you surrender your own. You give up your lands and titles, give up hope of marriage, children..."
"House Tyrell continues through my brothers," Ser Loras said. "It is not necessary, for a third son to wed, or breed."
"Not necessary, but some find it pleasant. What of love?"
"When the sun has set, no candle can replace it."
D&D suck at their job = 🥛
I'm sorry, but can we just take a moment and appreciate the depth of Loras' grief? Like, I have no trouble believing Book!Loras loved Renly for real. Truly, honestly loved him first and foremost before he saw him as a pawn to get at the throne.
Show!Loras and Renly? I forgot they even fucked.
Loras being gay in the show felt like a background joke. "LoL, Sansa has a crush on a gay boy," or "LOL, Cersei is getting married to the gay boy."
Even between Loras and Renly, in the show, the first time we really saw them together, Loras was talking Renly into vying for the crown and Robert wasn't even dead yet. It was manipulation and titillation. Were they in love or was Loras just using him? Who knows, but after Renly died no one really cared, and I forgot they fucked, forgot Loras was even gay until it was shoved back in my face like a poor tasting joke.
Book!verse though? I can believe those two were in love, I can believe Loras is grieving that loss so quietly because he can't say what he's lost, what he feels, he can't express the depth of it and he has to listen to everyone around him belittle that affection and connection, and oh my gosh that poor boy.
A woman sidled into the light; plump, soft, matronly, with a round pink moon of a face and heavy dark curls. Tyrion recoiled. "Is something amiss?" she asked.
Varys, he realized with annoyance.
Drag Queen!Varys is canon. Pry it from my cold dead hands.
Just cross-dressing, I know, shhhh, let me have this.
"He's gone," Shae said.
Tyrion turned to look. It was true. the eunuch had vanished, shirts and all. The hidden doors are here somewhere, they have to be.
You wanna bet they're under the giant stone slab of a bed? You know, that thing that our attention was directed to the last time he was talking about hidden doors?
(also, it made me think of that scene from the animated Secret Garden, with the secret door under the window seat when they were talking about it earlier, but it probably slides like that giant coffin door from... oh gish, what's the movie... it's going to come to me right as I'm drifting off to sleep. It's like an entire trope to be fair, "giant stone altar/coffin is actually a sliding door" so I'm probably thinking of several movies.)
Her cunt gave him a little squeeze, and he started to stiffen again inside her.
'cunt' = 🥛
... you know, the longer Shae talks about Lollys, the more I prefer Show!Shae to Book!Shae, just for the fact that the show version has some level of empathy for other people. I understand it's probably a coping mechanism for some kind of hidden backstory trauma (no one in this series is without), but damn the way book!Shae treats sexual assault is icky AF.
Then he made a round of the walls, tapping on each in turn, searching for the hidden door. Shae sat with her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them, watching him. Finally she said, "They're under the bed. the secret steps."
He looked at her, incredulous. "The bed? the bed is solid ston. It weighs half a ton."
"There's a place where Varys pushes, and it floats right up. I asked him how, and he said it was magic."
"Yes." Tyrion had to grin. "A counterweight spell."
Ha-ha! I was right... about the location. Not the door type, though. The magic in this series is so low key or background I tend to forget it's a thing.
This does explain how he got out of the room without being heard. half-ton stones are not quietly moved, even if they have mechanisms to help them.
!! Alayaya made it back to her mother's brothel! Phew, I was low key worried something had happened to her on the walk back. you know, after she was whipped and kicked out the Keep naked?
"There is a singer who calls himself Symon Silver Tongue," Tyrion said wearily, pushing his guilt aside. "He plays for Lady Tanda's daughter sometimes.
"What of him?"
Kill him, he might had said, but damn the man had done nothing but sing a few songs.
You'd think Bards would do better in life, what with being a Charisma class, but no, no one likes Bards here.
And fill Shae's head with thoughts of doves and dancing bears.
... well now I have "Once Upon a December" from Anastasia (1997) stuck in my head.
Dancing Bears
Painted Wings
Things I almost remember.
And a song someone sings
Once upon a December.
#a storm of swords#steel and snow#a song of ice and fire#tyrion lannister#a chapter a day reading#asos#asoiaf
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