#my brain is just super fried and the only content i seem to be able to focus on rn is destiel content so!!!

[thera-daydreams]

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴏʟᴅ ʟᴀᴅʏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ

ᗢ jujutsu kaisen x scarletwitch!reader ᗢ

13. madness

Chapter Index & Synopsis

warning: will contain spoilers from the jjk manga and the latest mcu movies/comics/shows (particularly wandavision, loki, spiderman: nwh, as well as content from doctor strange in the multiverse of madness). once again, this will contain heavy spoilers—you have been warned. angst, cussing, cursing, murder, disturbing themes, & swear words will be here, too. trigger warning as well for wanda's depression and suicidal behavior. so... hi, all! it's been what, 6 months? before i say anything more, here's an ultra-mega-super-duper-long-almost-25k-words chapter—practically a whole story in itself—to make up for my long absence and silence here on tumblr. this was weeeeeks in the making and i'm brain fried as i publish this. honestly, i may never edit or beta this because of how ridiculously long it is, lol. anyways, enjoy! 🥰

(word count: 24,958)

(previous chapter)

The rumbling and shaking continued in the darkness the eight jujutsu sorcerers were in, throwing them off balance. Before they knew it, the darkness ripped open into a... well, it looked like they were somewhere in outer space? But there were pillars and pieces of debris floating around, some objects defying the laws of gravity.

Suddenly, a roar resounded from behind them. Their heads snapped to the direction of the sound, where they found... a ribbon-like monster chasing a young girl wearing a denim jacket and... Dr. Strange in a ponytail?

Just like before, when they were watching and then got sucked into the TV (particularly into the last two episodes of WandaVision), everything felt real. Like a 3D—no, a 4D film. Maybe 6D, even. Yet it was only a glimpse into the past, thus they were still physically unaffected by the events despite them being able to feel and experience it realistically with their five senses.

It was different from the holograms they watched with Loki and Dr. Strange with Spiderman—other pivotal events of your universe that didn't include you.

"Strange looks... strange... doesn't he?" Geto blinked, confused as the duo got closer to their point of view. The Ribboned Creature was destroying everything in its path as it attempted to attack weird-looking Strange and the girl with him. The two individuals being chased went through them like they were ghosts, and so did the angry Ribboned Creature.

"And who's the new kid?" Toji raised one fine, curious eyebrow. The others shrugged.

"Dunno, Toji-san," Yuuji replied. "But that ribbon monster seems to want to get her."

"We should probably follow them," Nanami logically suggested as the Ribboned Creature, Strange-with-a-ponytail, and New Girl got farther away in the distance.

The other seven males nodded, running after the monster and the duo it was chasing (albeit, with some difficulty due to the lack of gravity, the floating debris, and the mess of space-time in the Gap Junction). They jumped and ran, momentarily stopping when Ponytail Strange and New Girl stopped.

"Hey, are they speaking Spanish?" Yuuji asked out loud, overhearing the conversation between them. Choso, beside him, had question marks all over his head.

"... What is... Spanish...?" the cursed spirit thought to himself quietly.

"Uh-huh," Megumi muttered to Yuuji, looking back-and-forth warily between the relentless Ribboned Creature and its victims.

"Well, anyone of you know what they're talking about!?" Toji huffed out, crossing his arms. "'Cause I don't."

"Hehe. Sorry. The only Spanish I know are pick-up lines for the ladies!" Gojo nervously laughed, scratching the back of his head. Geto mimicked the exact same action with a guilty look and a grin.

"... Yeaaaaaah, uhhhh, I didn't really listen during second-year Spanish class with Yaga either. Oops," the long-haired male admitted.

Megumi and Yuuji sighed loudly at that. Best friends, indeed. Gojo and Geto were probably slacking off together that time in their highschool days.

Eventually, all heads turned towards the only reliable person in the room (... or space, since they weren't exactly in a room).

A vein popped on Nanami's temple as all eyes slowly turned to him hopefully (Gojo's and Yuuji's eyes were practically sparkling). The blonde exhaled loudly in exasperation as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "You expect me to know Spanish?"

"We knooooow you do, Nanaaaamin," Gojo stated in a sing-song voice.

Another vein popped up on the blonde's temple. "Stop calling me that."

"You know, you were the only one who got perfect marks under Yaga's Spanish class when you were in second year," Geto chuckled, feeling nostalgic for a second. "You were a damn miracle. That man couldn't teach Spanish for his life."

Relenting, he sighed, "... Fine. I'll translate."

Ah, Nanami Kento. Always so reliable and competent. "Thank you, Nanamin!" Yuuji danced around beside him.

Boom!

They watched (while simultaneously continuing to run and follow the duo) as Ponytail Strange's powers glowed an icy blue as he fired shots at the Ribboned Creature.

"Weren't his powers, like, orange...? Or am I colorblind now?" Gojo yelled, beginning to doubt his Six Eyes after everything he's seen about your Multiverse.

"This guy must be like those other versions of Spiderman. Like that Sivan—Syra—the hell was her name again... the other self that Loki smooched..." Toji muttered to himself.

"Sylvie. The blonde female variant of that Loki guy," Megumi finished for him. "You're getting old with all those memory lapses, old man." Toji rolled his eyes at his son, pinching the boy's ear as they ran.

"So this Ponytail Strange is a variant of the Dr. Strange we've seen before?" Yuuji tilted his head in question.

"Probably," Geto and Gojo chorused.

"What are they saying now?" Choso curiously asked as Ponytail Strange and New Girl conversed in rapid-fire Spanish. Ponytail Strange pointed at something far ahead.

"He's saying that it's that book that will kill the monster," Kento translated from Spanish to Japanese for the other men. Multilingual King.

"Book?" the others questioned.

"The Book of Vishanti!" New Girl shouted, as if answering the spectators watching them, when she recognized the mystical item from afar.

"Jump!" Ponytail Strange shouted as they encountered a gap in the floating concrete. With that, the eight jujutsu sorcerers also jumped high, too, roughly landing on the sloped piece of floating concrete. "Hold on!" Ponytail Strange told his female companion.

"Shit, this feels like a fight but we're not technically a part of it?" Geto muttered to himself as he slid and landed on solid ground. Ponytail Strange and New Girl did the same, too. Unfortunately, seconds after, the Ribboned Creature caught up to them, roaring in anger as it pierced the new Strange's thigh with its sharpened ribbons. Ponytail Strange was able to encapsulate it and restrict it with some concrete and magic, yet only for mere moments as his injury spread further through his leg.

"Sheesh. That looks nasty," Gojo cringed, taking a glimpse of the Sorcerer Supreme's wound.

"Real nasty," Yuuji followed with a disgusted face. "Must hurt a lot. Poor guy."

Megumi's eyes were stuck to the Ribboned Creature. "It's gonna get out," he mumbled, a foreboding feeling running through his veins. "They can't win this, can they?"

"... Unlikely," Nanami answered back, not very optimistic. Just as he said that, Ponytail Strange yelped out. His wound was getting infected by dark magic.

"It's too strong! I can't hold it!" Strange yelled, shaking as he attempted to keep the monster in the magical circular cage he made. All of them gazed in horror as the monster began breaking its way out.

As he came to this realization, Sorcerer Supreme Strange slowly turned to the new girl—whose name was America Chavez. The gazes of the eight jujutsu sorcerers watching them skimmed over to America, too.

"What's this dude planning?" Toji raised a brow.

"... I don't think it's gonna be anything good," Choso's lips pursed. Indeed, the Cursed Spirit was right.

"I'm so sorry," Sorcerer Supreme Strange began, hesitant. "But this is the only way." With that, the man began extracting the young girl's power for himself. The jujutsu sorcerers were surprised.

"Oh no, why... why would he..." Yuuji felt sympathetic for the girl. She looked to be just around his age. Maybe even younger. Megumi felt the same, too.

"Wh—What are you doing!?" America shrieked as she was lifted up into the air. Slowly, her powers were siphoned out of her.

"I can't let that thing take your power. You can't control it," Stephen told her, trembling as he took the girl's abilities while simultaneously holding the monster back. "But I can."

"But we're friends!" America cried out. "You're killing me!"

"I know." Stephen shut his eyes tight. "But in the grand calculus of the Multiverse, your sacrifice is worth more than your—"

Stab!

One of the creature's ribbons went through Ponytail Strange's heart.

"Damn," Toji commented, arms crossed. "I guess he kind of deserves that, though?"

Ponytail Strange fell to the ground, almosr lifeless. America, now free, set her eyes on the Book of Vishanti. She quickly ran towards it, hopping over multiple pieces of floating debris to get to her destination. Behind her, the jujutsu sorcerers followed. Right before she could obtain it, however, the Ribboned Creature got a hold of her four limbs. The jujutsu sorcerers stopped in their tracks.

"Crap," Yuuji's eyes looked frantically around them. "Is there really nothing we can do to help her!?" Beside him, Megumi was thinking the same, but didn't let his nervousness surface visibly to his face.

Nanami shook his head, "... Unfortunately, no. Like everything we've witnessed, this is the past, remember?"

"It's already happened and we can do nothing to stop it," Geto added. Before he could say anything else, the creature roared, scaring America. Out of instinct, her powers activated. Eyes glowing bright blue, a star-shaped portal appeared around her, acting like a vaccuum—sucking everything around them into it. With his dying breath and remaining magic, Ponytail Strange sent out four spinning blasts to cut away America's restrictions. America (and the monster) were thrown into the portal. Ponytail Strange was sucked into it, too.

And as much as they hated it and tried to avoid it, the jujutsu sorcerers watching were thrown into the portal as well—spinning and spinning as they fell.

"Oh shiiiiiiii—" Gojo shouted, voice echoing through the portal.

Before they knew it, they all awoke on the floor of... a bedroom in the New York Sanctum? And they were in a pile on the ground, too (with Toji, unfortunately, on the very bottom with Gojo being on the top, squishing everyone else in-between).

A tick mark appeared on Toji's jaw at the weight on his back, "Get. Off. Now." The men scrambled to their feet. Then they heard wheezing and huffing from the bed in the room. Their eyes widened.

"Whoa. That's the Strange we know... right?" Megumi pointed out. His eye then twitched as he turned away. "He sleeps naked?"

"Who doesn't?" Gojo, Geto, and Toji chorused.

"... I did not need those images in my head," Nanami rubbed his temples, disgusted at the visuals involuntarily implanted into his brain.

"Perhaps he just does not sleep with a shirt on," Choso offered, head tilted. "But were we... watching his dream?"

"Uh-huh, looks like it," Yuuji deduced. He then whistled. "You know, I never realized Dr. Strange was that fit and built." The pink-haired boy glanced at his teacher. "He could give you a run for your money with those biceps, Gojo-sensei."

The Strongest looked offended. "I look much better than this guy, excuse you!"

"Heh. Dunno, Satoru. With those grey streaks in his hair and that awesome beard? Kinda gives me silver fox vibes," Suguru teased his best friend.

"Have you seen my hair!? It's all practically white—" Gojo protested, running his hands through his hair wildly. "I am the epitome of a silver fox!"

"Nah, without a good beard, you're not," Toji scoffed in the corner. Suddenly, a mouth popped out on Yuuji's cheek as they all watched Strange grab his broken watch and get dressed for a wedding.

"Where the hell is Granny." It was a statement, not a question from the King of Curses.

"Dunno. We haven't really seen mom since... that scene of her in her isolated cabin in the woods..." Yuuji frowned. "I wonder how she's doing here in her past. And in the real world. I've almost forgotten what she was doing since we last saw her in our world."

"Getting groceries," his older brother reminded him.

"In the middle of an incoming snowstorm," Kento sighed out heavily.

It was silent as they waited for Strange do to whatever he needed to do. The Master of the Mystic Arts walked for a few blocks, constantly fidgeting with his cufflinks. It was only when they were inside the chapel, familiar names scrawled on a fancy calligraphy canvas outside the large wooden doors of the entrance, that they realized what exactly Strange was there for.

"Oh my god, is he attending his ex-girlfriend's wedding!?" Gojo exclaimed dramatically.

"Well, this ought to be a sight," the Zenin clan deserter snorted. "What was that woman's name again?"

"Christine...?" Megumi answered his dad, unsure. "Forgot her last name though."

"Oof, this is gonna be awkward," Geto cringed beside his best friend. "Brilliant neurosurgeon and awesome superhero but doesn't get a love life."

"He did have to make sacrifices for his... lifestyle," Nanami quietly commented. Of course, as a jujutsu sorcerer, he could relate. At the blonde's remark, everyone else—at least, the adults of the group—sobered. The life of a jujutsu sorcerer was not forgiving. Time would be spent either fighting, recovering, teaching, exorcising, and the like. Romance? You were lucky if you had a partner that knew, believed, and accepted the life of having a jujutsu sorcerer as their lover. You were even luckier if you were able to sustain a long-term relationship, get married, have kids, and grow old.

Normally, that was not in the books of being a jujutsu sorcerer. Death rates and chances of injury were always high. It was always a gamble as you could die at any moment.

They watched the entire wedding silently.

ᗢ▪︎ᗢ

"Look. Truly, I'm just glad that you're happy," Stephen finished, congratulating Christine on her wedding day.

"I am. I really, really am," Christine brightly smiled at him, looking angelic in her simple yet classic, white wedding dress.

"Good," Stepehen nodded, doing his best to hold back his own tears. Right person, wrong time, indeed. Perhaps in another life... in another universe, it would have worked out between them.

"Are you?" Christine asked.

"I'm happy."

"Good. You deserve it."

With that, Christine left Stephen to his own devices.

"... What a load of bullshit." It was Toji who spoke and it was the first time any of them spoke since the wedding proper an hour earlier. His arms were, again, folded against his chest.

"Tell me about it," Geto snorted. "Clearly, he is not happy."

"He's heartbroken as hell. Anyone can see that," Gojo snickered.

Before more jabs at the ex-neurosurgeon could be made, screams and crashes were suddenly heard from outside the building they were in. Strange, plus the jujutsu sorcerers, ran out to the open balcony on... whatever floor they were... to see cars and street poles being thrown everywhere by... whatever invisible threat there was.

"Finally, some action," Sukuna popped up on Yuuji's cheek once more as Strange flew down. The rest of them jumped down the building, too. Thankfully, despite not having their cursed energy, they landed without a hitch.

"Yo... isn't that the girl from Strange's dream earlier?" Yuuji pointed out as Strange used a spell to make the invisible monster... well, visible.

"It was invisible to the naked eye...?" Choso thought out loud. "A cursed spirit?"

"Perhaps," Nanami observed. It was a huge, slimy, tentacled monster bigger than any cursed spirit he's ever encountered, though (well, maybe except for that one giant cursed spirit Aoi Todo fought during the Night Parade of Demons). It had one big eye, too, scanning its surroundings for its target. The girl.

America Chavez.

Strange—and Wong, later on—finished off the monster by stabbing out its single, huge eyeball from on top of one of New York's buildings.

"Giant monsters, I can clearly handle," Strange stared at Chavez closely. "But what bothers me is that last night, you were in my dream."

"That... wasn't a dream," America explained. "It was another universe."

The eight jujutsu sorcerers spectating stilled at her answer. They followed Wong, Strange, and America into a nearby pizza place, wanting to hear more of this girl's explanation.

Stephen huffed, tired of all the questions being directed to him and the lack of answers he was getting. "Now why was that octopus trying to eat you?"

"That thing was trying to kidnap me," America cut in. At their questioning looks, she let out a deep exhale. "It's like a henchman who works for a demon. All we knew is that they wanted to take my power for themselves."

"What power?" Strange's brows furrowed.

America paused, "I can... travel the Multiverse."

"Prove it," Strange challenged.

"That's neat," Geto nodded to himself. All of a sudden, the scene shifted to all of them being on a rooftop. America, Wong, and Strange knelt down, with America uncovering a dead body.

Strange's dead body. Or at least, the variant of him who was Sorcerer Supreme and had a ponytail. The one who died before their very eyes.

"It wasn't a dream," Wong breathed out in shock at seeing the decaying corpse. "That means..."

"Dreams are windows into the lives of our multiversal selves," Strange concluded, wide-eyed.

"Holy shit," Gojo blinked at the declaration. "Does that... apply to our universe, too?"

"... Maybe. Probably?" Geto's eyes were wide, as well. "But that's... it's outrageous. Crazy."

"That was his theory," America gestured to the dead Ponytail Strange.

"So that recurring nightmare where I'm running naked from a clown..." Wong trailed off.

America shrugged, "Somewhere out there, it's real."

"That's sick," Yuuji gaped, both awed and terrified. "I had a dream I got married to Jennifer Lawrence on a beach a few years ago. Megan Thee Stallion was the Maid of Honor! That's true in another universe?" He ran a hand down his face. "Man, that me is living the life, sheesh!"

The rest of them were speechless.

"There could be more creatures coming after her," Wong whispered to Strange.

"The power is dangerous enough in the hands of a kid," Strange replied in a hushed tone. "Imagine if a real threat acquired it."

At their words, the young girl with them became nervous, beginning to back away. Noticing this, Wong assured her. "It occurs to me, young one, that we don't know your name."

"... America Chavez," she answered reluctantly.

"Miss Chavez, will you come with us to Kamar-Taj? You'll be safe there," Wong formally offered as the reigning Sorcerer Supreme.

The jujutsu sorcerers watched as Strange buried the dead Strange with a ponytail... under a bunch of rocks and bricks on the rooftop apartment.

"Won't that, like, smell?" Megumi's face was contorted in disgust.

"Or attract some cursed spirits or something...?" Yuuji scratched his head. "But then again, they don't have cursed spirits in their world..."

"They have terrifying monsters which could be considered as curses, though," Toji remarked. "A ribboned monster? An octopus with one giant eyeball? Hm."

"The creature that killed him," Wong asked, referring to Strange's alternate self. "Did it have the same markings as the octopus?"

"Runes," Stephen stated. At the familiar term, the jujutsu sorcerers' ears perked up.

"Like what Mom and Agatha used?" Yuuji clarified to the other older men, who all nodded.

At Strange's reply, Wong exhaled. "This isn't sorcery."

Stephen's eyes widened slightly in realization. "It's witchcraft."

"Do we know anyone who's faced such a thing?" Wong inquired to his friend.

Stephen paused. One familiar person came to his mind. One he'd fought alongside long ago in the battle against Thanos along with other notable superheroes. "... I think I might."

The jujutsu sorcerers stilled. It was so very faint, but they swore they heard a chime mimicking the theme song of WandaVision in their minds.

Right as Strange finished saying his sentence, they felt the scene before them shift. Suddenly, they saw a familiar-looking woman whose back was turned to them. She was softly humming a song, mixing up ingredients in the metal bowl with a large, wooden spoon.

"Mom...?" Yuuji gasped out first.

You turned around with a smile as you grabbed some baking soda from a nearby cabinet, but did not hear them. You were dressed in a simple outfit—a plain, long-sleeved white top, some faded jeans, and a navy blue cardigan with some flour smudges here and there.

"Y/N..." the older jujutsu sorcerers (ahem, Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Toji, and Choso) breathed out, as if in relief at finally seeing you once more.

"Finally!" Sukuna exclaimed loudly, making Yuuji wince at the volume of his voice. "It's been too damn long!"

You looked you, but...

"She looks a bit different, don't ya think?" Gojo tilted his head, rubbing his chin as he tried to pinpoint what exactly was different.

"Maybe it's the hair color?" Geto pointed out.

"... Happier." It was Nanami who spoke out loud. All eyes glanced at the ex-salaryman. "She's happier. You can see it in her eyes."

They, again, grew silent as they watched you smoothly glide around the kitchen with experienced movements—similar to how you would in their world. In the bakery-café you owned.

"You're right," Toji hmphed. "I wonder why."

They got their answer in the form of two young boys running into the kitchen and dipping their hands in the chocolate mixture you were stirring.

"Chocolate!" Billy yelled happily.

"Hey! What did I say?" you teasingly scolded.

Tommy pouted, "But we couldn't wait."

You raised a playful brow at your children, "Buuuut, what did I say?" At your reply, your twins rebelliously ate the chocolate mix that they managed to sneak on their fingers. Your eyes widened as you laughed, "Oh?" With a loving pinch of their naughty faces, you ushered your kids to the sink. "Go wash your hands!"

"Aren't those two... dead?" Choso asked out loud, referring to Billy and Tommy.

"Supposedly," Nanami answered him. He looked around closely. "And supposedly, this place is gone. Vision Residence disappeared when the Hex disappeared."

They all blinked.

"You're right, Nanamin!" Yuuji blinked. "Whoa, you're so observant!"

"It's part of my job. And my Cursed Technique," Nanami bluntly replied, adjusting his glasses (just like any cool and badass anime character).

"But he's right... this is the Vision Residence... exactly like it, except for a few extra knick-knacks here and there," Geto murmured, touching the kitchen counter.

The scene before them slowly changed to night time, with the twins dressed in their pajamas and getting into bed. It was an extremely familiar scene, making them feel déjà vu as they watched it.

"A family is forever," you spoke to Billy and Tommy gently. "We could never truly leave each other even if we tried." You stroked their heads.

"Hasn't this happened already?" Yuuji scratched his head in confusion, hearing the dialogue and your conversation with your kids. "Like, in WandaVision? I feel like I've watched this already in the finale."

"Hm," Gojo hummed, his head tilted as he watched you tuck the boys in snugly. "Except that Y/N's in her single mom era here. For some reason."

"Where the hell is that robot?" Sukuna asked, very loudly.

"No idea," Choso answered his fellow curse being.

You sweetly give your children a goodnight kiss on their foreheads, whispering, "Love you." They giggled at the sensation, making you smile. The sorcerers smiled, too, seeing you happy. You were about to say something else when the scene cut abruptly. So abruptly.

ᗢ▪︎ᗢ

Your eyes snapped open, the smile on your face slowly fading as you realized that it was just a dream. Again. The jujutsu sorcerers, too, realized that you had been dreaming. You slowly sat up from your bed, the silence in your new home almost deafening except for the soft chirping of birds outside. In your bedroom, you were alone. Somehow, despite the warm sunlight filtering through the curtains on your windows, the air was chillier. The colors around them seemed a little greyer... duller than it was in that vibrant, joyful dream. You tightened your flannel robe along your torso, adjusting a stray strand of your hair behind your ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Oh, you were still alive. And awake. You placed a hand over your beating heart, exhaling.

The jujutsu sorcerers realized that this woman—the lonely woman who woke up from the dream and not the happy mother in that dream—was you. The one they knew. The version that they had watched over the past couple of... hours? Days? Weeks? How long has it been? They didn't know.

"Mom..." Yuuji sadly whispered. "So it wasn't real? Mom was just dreaming about Billy and Tommy?"

"So it seems," Megumi replied, feeling pity for you (for what probably felt like the hundredth time). You didn't deserve this pain at all. "It's never gotten easier for Y/N-san, huh?"

Now, they were transported to a lovely apple orchard, with countless, fragrant trees spaced out almost evenly. Not so far away was the new humble home you'd made for yourself after self-isolating, with a dozen or so sheep running past the jujutsu sorcerers.

"Sheep...?" Gojo blinked, seeing you quietly herd them away to some wooden fences. "Neat... I guess? Didn't think she'd be the type who's into sheperding."

"She's taken up gardening, too. So this is where it began," Toji observed as you diligently snipped away at some overgrown tree branches. He and the others were aware that gardening was one of your hobbies (and why Charmed Coffee & Confectionaries had such a gorgeous display of healthy plants all over the area and outside the shop—heck, the mini-garden you had on the rooftop of your building was a tourist spot itself; Geto could recall Mimiko and Nanako taking a lot of selfies there during that time they first came looking for him after you saved him).

"Apples?" You—and the jujutsu sorcerers—turned around at hearing Strange's voice. Hands in his tailored trouser pockets and a friendly smile on his handsome face, he almost looked like he was about to ask you for a date at the park in this very place.

"... Eventually," you replied, straightening yourself. The jujutsu sorcerers watched as you handed him the small branch you'd snipped off. He sniffed it, nodding and impressed.

"It smells—" He began, only for you to subtly cut in.

"Sweet?"

"I was gonna say real," Stephen chuckled. Your lips curved at his remark as you took the branch from him and tossed it away to the pile of branches on a picket box on the grass.

"Oh, it's all very real. Thanks." Then your smile disappeared, replaced by a sad and remorseful look. "I knew sooner or later you'd show up, wanting to talk about..." You paused. "Westview." It was a word you hadn't said in so long. The spectators also felt like it's been forever since then after they'd seen the other things that happened in your universe—Loki, Spiderman, and more. You breathed out deeply, pocketing your hands in your jacket. "I made mistakes. And people were hurt—"

"But you put things right in the end, and that was never in doubt," he assured. "I'm not here to talk about Westview," Strange informed you. This alarmed some of the jujutsu sorcerers.

"Hey. Wait, wait. Hold up." Geto crossed his arms, glowering at the Master of the Mystic Arts. "You mean to tell me this guy knew about Y/N and what happened to Westview? And didn't bother to show up or do anything about it? Like, help her? Against that nosy Salem witch with the crazy get-up?"

"Same thoughts," Gojo huffed. "The nerve of this guy! The audacity!"

"Then what are you here for?" you inquired, appearing confused.

"We need your help," Stephen quickly answered. You gave it a few moments of thought, walking to make your decision. Strange followed behind you, hands pocketed from the air, as well.

"Oh, so now he asks for her help?" Gojo and Geto chorused, rolling their eyes in annoyance with Strange.

"... No one was there for her when she needed them the most," Choso quietly added.

"Yeah," Yuuji frowned in disapproval.

"With what?" you finally responded, strolling along your orchard with Strange beside you.

"What do know about the Multiverse?"

Your eyes slightly widened as you shared to Stephen what you knew, "The Multiverse... Viz had his theories." Ah, finally a mention of your late synthezoid husband. "He believed it was real. And dangerous."

"Well, he was right about both," Strange disclosed. "We found a girl who can somehow travel across it. But she's being pursued."

Your head turned to him seriously, worriedly, "Pursued by who?"

"Some kind of demon. One that covets her power for itself," Strange answered in a grave tone. "We've taken her to Kamar-Taj, and we've got our defenses. But we could use an Avenger."

Avenger. Huh. That was a title you weren't called ever since... what, the Lagos Incident? The fight against Thanos? Both good and bad memories were associated with it. "There are other Avengers," you reminded him, raising a skeptical brow.

"Yeah, but given the choice of the archer with the mohawk and several bug-themed crime fighters..." You chuckled, amused at his joke. "Or, one of the most powerful magic-wielders on the planet, it's an easy call. Come to Kamar-Taj." His eyes gave such a pleading look. Strange then smirked, "We'll get you back on the lunchbox."

"He's using aaaaaall his mystical silver fox charms to sway her, isn't he?" Gojo pouted, like a child stomping his feet because his mother didn't give him candy.

"You forget that he was a very respected genius neurosurgeon who was probably extremely wealthy and, for the record, attractive," Nanami deadpanned, also inwardly irked at the fact that Strange knew about Westview all along. "I get the feel that this perhaps isn't the first time he's persuading a woman to get what he wants from her. He's got an ego that rivals Stark."

"Not gonna lie, used to do that to women, too," Toji commented, making Megumi quietly groan.

However, it was your next remark that made all of them—except Yuuji, who didn't catch on, at first—that made them freeze in their tracks.

"What if you brought America here?"

The jujutsu sorcerers saw that Strange had noticed your words, too. He was almost rendered speechless. But he played along with it, "... Here?"

"Yeah," you shrugged. "I know what's it's like... to be on your own... hunted for abilities you never wanted," you suggested, continuing to stride forward. You really did relate to the girl. The question was...

"How does she know so much about... America?" Megumi's eyes were wide. The rest of the guys had the same expression. Their hearts pumped blood faster through their bodies, adrenaline rushing in their veins.

They couldn't believe it. No. It wasn't possible.

"She could have just read his mind... right?" Gojo murmured, refusing to believe it. "... Right?"

"But she said she put the magic behind her already," Nanami cut in, hazel eyes narrowing at you as you didn't face them or Strange. He continued to reason out, "And I'm pretty sure the Master of the Mystic Arts wouldn't appreciate anyone prodding around his mind and reading it. It's likely he has defenses for that in place."

Toji, Geto, Choso, and Sukuna (the only deranged one who was getting excited about the whole ordeal) chose to be silent, just watching.

"What? Huh? What's happening?" Yuuji's gaze frantically moved from person to person. He didn't understand. But the rest of the jujutsu sorcerers had no words to say as they stared at the scene unfolding before them. "What's wrong?"

Strange stopped walking.

"I can protect her," you promised, only to notice that Strange was no longer beside you and that he had the most disappointed and regretful expression on his face.

Ah, you realized.

You made a slip of the tongue. Oh well. At least you tried. It would've been too easy if Strange was just able to hand you America right then and there. The predator got too excited there, losing the chance to seize their prey in a one-shot kill. Now, the thrilling chase was just starting.

"... You never told me her name, did y—"

"—No."

"Mm."

His voice was far colder now, and he answered instantaneously. Harshly. "No, I didn't." He was about to leave, only for you to speak again, back turned towards him (and the viewers). Antsy and nervous, the jujutsu sorcerers waited for what was going to happen next.

There was an ominous feeling in their gut, something they usually felt when they were dealing with extremely difficult cursed spirits or powerful enemies. The fact that you were the reason why they were feeling like this was... unnerving.

They didn't realize that unintentionally, they were holding their breaths.

"You know, the Hex was the easy part," you divulged quietly, slowly lifting your right hand from your pocket. "The lying... not so much."

With a small wave of your hand, the peaceful illusion of the apple orchard dissolved as the reddish-black fog of your Chaos Magic seeped through your fingertips once more, revealing a desolate wasteland with lifeless trees and scarlet skies. No traces of life were present—not one sheep, not one bird, not even a single ant was alive. In just a blink of an eye, everything down to the molecular level had been altered.

Then, Stephen Strange and the jujutsu sorcerers turned around to see you. Their gaze moved from head to toe, your once-regal and superhero-like Scarlet Witch robes visibly darkened—now a gradient alternating from black to red—and corroded... corrupted, glass-like cracks on the tight bodice originating from where your heart was located, like a metaphor for all the heartbreak you'd been through in this lifetime. Your tiara, too, looked different from the last time they saw it—its two tips pointier and its composition much more hollow. Your half-arm gloves from before had turned into full-on, darkened sleeves which extended to your fingers, which they noted had been stained an inky black. Just like Agatha's before.

The Darkhold floating beside you explained everything.

Even the way you physically appeared had changed. Your hair was longer than when they last saw you, your eyes and cheekbones sharper, lips and lids painted darker, and even the way you held yourself in poise and manner oozed confidence.

You looked downright evil, yet also hypnotizingly and irresistibly a hundred times more attractive.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" Sukuna suddenly cackled, ogling you shamelessly through eyes and a mouth on Yuuji's cheek. On the other hand, Yuuji had the opposite reaction, his face the epitome of horrified and betrayed.

"N-No... it can't be," the pink-haired boy stammered in realization. "Mom's... the demon chasing America? She's the one w-who... killed that other Strange?"

"Yuuji," Nanami placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "... Don't... overthink it. Remember, this already happened in the past." However, the blonde was unable to take his gaze off of you. Like the others, his eyes were trained on you. Even he couldn't believe what was happening.

"The Darkhold," Strange's eyes widened at seeing the book.

"You're familiar with the Darkhold?" you asked curiously.

"I know it's the Book of the Damned," Strange coldly replied. "And that it corrupts everything and everyone that it touches." He gestured with his head to your surroundings. Your territory and domain. "I wonder what it's done to you."

"The Darkhold only showed me the truth," you countered as if nothing was wrong. "Everything that I lost can be mine again." You sounded like you truly believed what you were saying.

"What do you want with America?" Stephen's brows furrowed. "What do you want with the Multiverse?"

"I'm going to leave this reality... and go to one where I can be with my children," you announced calmly.

"Wanda, your children aren't real!" Strange attempted to convince you but to no avail. "You created them using magic."

"... That was a fucking awesome way to say it," Toji scoffed sarcastically, still stunned at what was occuring. "Like she's gonna change her mind at this point."

You knowingly and coyly smiled at him, intentionally twisting his words, a sly glint in your eye, "That's what every mother does."

Were they frightened or aroused hearing and seeing you act like such an enchantress? They had no idea.

"By magic, does she mean that episode in WandaVision with the bed and her and Vision having s—" Gojo began, only to be interrupted by his best friend.

"Yes. Yes, she does, Satoru," Geto sighed out. But he wouldn't lie, he could see himself in this darker side of you. It was jarring him. The déjà vu was real.

You clasped your hands together, beginning to circle Strange, "If you knew there was a universe where you were happy, wouldn't you want to go there?" You stared up at him, almost tempting him. But Strange was a man of steel will.

"I am happy," he said, making you raise a fine brow in bemusement. Strange was a man of steel will, but like in Toji's words, he often said a load of bullshit. Obvious lies, duh.

"I know better than most what self-deception looks like," you hummed playfully, aware that he was lying to not only you, but himself. The way you were looking at him had Strange sweating and nervous (so were the jujutsu sorcerers who had a big fat crush on you).

"... Honestly, I would've folded if she looked at me like that," Satoru tilted his head towards you as he addressed his fellow sorcerers. "And I'd instantly marry her. We'd be a hot couple, eh?"

"No thanks," the others replied, instantly shutting him down. Yuuji was a bit kinder, though, but still savage.

"I really admire you, sensei, but I don't want you to be my stepdad," the pink-haired boy awkwardly grinned out, scratching his head.

"I'd be the awesomest stepdad, excuse you!" Gojo cried out, only for Strange to speak again.

"Wanda, what you're doing is a flagrant violation of every natural law and if you take that child's power, she won't survive!" Strange nearly shouted to you in anger.

Instantly, the smile on your face vanished. "I don't relish hurting anyone, Stephen." Then suddenly, you shrugged. "But she's not a child!" you scoffed without a care in the world, both eyebrows high on your forehead as you gave your excuses to Strange. "She's a supernatural being! Such raw power could wreak havoc on this and other worlds! Her sacrifice would be for the... better good." You shrugged offhandedly.

Your words made the jujutsu sorcerers somewhat... sick. They realized that they'd heard this conversation before, with Stark and Cap after the Lagos Incident and during the Sokovia Accords dispute all those years ago. And in America's place, it was you, instead.

To Cap, you were a kid.

To Stark, you were a so-called weapon of mass destruction.

Maybe Iron Man had a point. Not a hundred percent on the dot and definitely not in how he chose to go about it—confining you and putting you in solitary internment—but he knew what you were capable of.

You were dangerous.

And he was absolutely right.

"Well, you can kiss the lunchbox goodbye because that's exactly the kind of justification our enemies use!" Strange argued, making you inwardly snort. Intimidatingly, you stepped closer to him, staring him straight in the eye—daring him to make the first move.

"Is it the one that you used? When you gave Thanos the Time Stone?" you calmly yet bitterly challenged back at his remark. You knew that he knew what he did to you. What he did to Vision. The memory was painfully fresh in your mind, Thanos ripping out the Mind Stone from the head of the person you loved the most after he used the Time Stone to easily reverse your sacrifice.

"Oh shit," Geto muttered, shocked. "Didn't expect that from her."

Clearly, Strange's face showed his guilt, "... That was a war. And I did what I had to do."

You were not convinced by his reasoning. Actually, you were unimpressed. "You break the rules and become the hero," you mocked, knowing about what happened with him and Spiderman, erasing memories and all with the Runes of Kof-Kol he was told not to use. You were merely rubbing salt in the wound; he was oh-so self-righteous wasn't he? "I do it and I become the enemy. That doesn't seem fair."

"Mom's... she's... she's gone psycho," Yuuji whispered, wide-eyed at your attitude and demeanor. "But... Dr. Strange did break a hella lot of rules... especially with erasing people's memories of Peter Parker... but Mom..." Yuuji's eyes became downcast. "I never thought she'd say something like that."

The others looked at the boy with pity. After all, he had always seen you as his strong, powerful, yet kind mother. For that image of you to be crushed... it must have definitely hurt a lot.

"What happens now?"

"Return to Kamar-Taj and prepare to hand over America Chavez by sundown. Peacefully," you stated your terms firmly. You then gave him a tiny smile. It didn't give them any reassurance, though. This smile of yours was darkly mischievous and triumphant, not the smile they loved to see. "After that, you will never see me again." You turned to leave, using your magic to store the Darkhold safely away from view, only for Strange to speak again.

"And if we don't?"

You stopped in your tracks, looking back at him one more time. "Then it won't be Wanda who comes for her. It will be the Scarlet Witch." It was not a threat. It was a promise.

"Hohoho, this is getting interesting," Sukuna almost giggled. Giggled. Out of excitement. If the King of Curses was this happy, it was an omen that bad things were to come.

ᗢ▪︎ᗢ

The scene morphed to all of them being in Kamar-Taj, with Wong—the current presiding Sorcerer Supreme—pacing the room quickly as an urgent meeting was held between various master sorcerers.

"The Scarlet Witch..." Wong murmured to himself anxiously, before declaring to the others. "The Scarlet Witch is a being of unfathomable magic. She can rewrite reality as she chooses, and is prophesized to either rule or annihilate the cosmos."

"Wait, what?" Yuuji exclaimed.

"Rule or annihilate, hm?" Sukuna chuckled darkly. "Interesting. Very interesting. More... more! I want to see mo—" Itadori slapped the noisy mouth on his cheek.

"Now is not the freaking time, Sukuna!" he huffed.

"Then what Agatha said before was true," Nanami pointed out, tense. "That her power exceeds the Sorcerer Supreme and that—"

"—It's her destiny to destroy the world," Toji finished grimly. "Well, goddamn."

"Suspend all teaching at once!" Wong ordered. "Kamar-Taj must now become a fortress!"

The jujutsu sorcerers then watched in surprise as the entirety of the temple and its dozens of residents swiftly prepared for battle, gathering weapons and artillery, even summoning the masters from the other two sanctums of the world: Hong Kong and London.

"... That's... an entire army," Megumi spoke out, breathless.

"Isn't an army of fifty or more wizards, like, too much for one person?" Choso wondered, scratching his head. "Overkill, that's the word, right?"

"We've seen what she did to Hayward's soldiers before," Toji reminded the other man. His green eyes narrowed, though. "But they are sorcerers, too, so we could give 'em some credit, at least. Maybe Strange can talk his way outta this and Y/N will agree. Maybe. And that Chavez girl will be fine."

Gojo rubbed his face with his hand tiredly, "God, you know what? This is reminding me of that time when your smartass declared war on all of us, trying to get Yuuta for Rika." The silver-haired sorcerer glared at his best friend, who only scowled at the memory of the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. Geto didn't verbally reply, inwardly still trying to... not be so hateful of... monkeys... damn, he really should stop calling non-sorcerers monkeys.

When all preparations and precautions had been made, the small army of Eldritch magic sorcerers the stood guard on Kamar-Taj. No space was left unprotected outside. The jujutsu sorcerers were also waiting for your appearance.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock!

Exactly at sunset, just as you had vowed, dark, billowing clouds appeared from the distance, slowly engulfing the entirety of Kamar-Taj and hushing the surroundings into silence. It was as if the sun had been dimmed and the area had been separated from the rest of the world. It was eerily silent, yet it felt like they were hearing ghostly whispers around them, too.

Yuuji shivered, even in his hoodie. "This is... kinda creepy."

"Reminds me of Coppola's film when Dracula signaled his arrival to London in a ship," Nanami murmured, eyes scanning the clouds to check for any sign of you. The others were doing the same, too.

"You mean the one with Winona Ryder? You always did like her in highschool, you emo," Gojo turned to him, momentarily distracted by his remark. Nanami only quietly sighed, mentally calming himself down and choosing to ignore the older man.

Suddenly, a red light appeared from the foggy clouds, making way to show you floating. Waiting. But surely you didn't think they'd so easily hand over America, right?

"Choose you words wisely," Wong whispered to Strange. "The fate of the Multiverse might depend on it."

Strange, beside him, felt like his shoulders became a ton heavier. "Right." He nodded. "But no pressure, right?" Wong only gave a nod.

As Stephen used the Cloak of Levitation to move towards you, the jujutsu sorcerers felt a pull to him, too. Soon enough, they found themselves floating nearby you and Strange in the sky, too. For Gojo, it wasn't weird since it felt similar to when he used his Infinity. For the others? It was startling to be in the air.

"Bruh, I'm flying?" Yuuji was in awe, then he grew solemn again, seeing your serious face. "This would've been fun if Mom was... Mom."

"All this for a child you met yesterday?" you thundered, glaring at Stephen.

"Wanda, you are justifiably angry," Strange began, trying to calm you. "You had to make terrible sacrifices—"

"I blew a hole through the head of the man I loved," you sharply interrupted, a hint of your past pains showing through. Your tone nearly made the jujutsu sorcerers wince as the image of your crying visage destroying the Mind Stone reappeared in their heads. "And it meant... nothing. Do not speak to me of sacrifice, Stephen Strange," you criticized spitefully. Then, your gaze grew softer as you moved towards Strange, leaning... closer, closer, and closer, until you both were face-to-face like that time in the apple orchard.

It was a fuming Satoru who immediately made a childish comment. "Are they gonna kiss or something? Why's she standing—er, floating so close to him!?"

"Shhh," Geto elbowed him. "Just listen, Satoru." But even the long-haired man (and a few others) was a teeny bit envious of how comfortable you seemed being so close to the Master of the Mystic Arts. That tiny green monster of jealousy in them grew even more when your gaze at Strange became tempting. Seductive, almost. Just like how Agatha had attempted to entice you to voluntarily surrender to her your powers back in Westview.

"If you give me the girl," you purred to Strange much like a beguiling siren would. The man visibly became much more still as he retained his composure. Whatever the Darkhold had done to you, your entire being and behavior were the epitome of alluring and captivating. Right before their very eyes, you were literally bewitching a man (... or six men, specifically, whose Adam's apples were bobbing as they swallowed at the sight of you). "I'll send you to a world where you can be with Christine," you offered, knowing exactly which buttons to press.

"... She's giving iconic Disney villains a run for their money," Gojo cleared his throat, pulling his collar and trying to cool himself down. "Or better yet, Satan himself, making deals like this and everything."

"Intelligent and beautiful, yet also powerful and manipulative," Geto thought to himself, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to distract himself from the memory of you being so... villainous and obsessed with your motives. The passion you exhibited was quite exhilarating, especially to that side of him who used to want to change the world. Perhaps you two weren't that different, after all. Was he terrified of you? Yes, quite. Was he also attracted? Very much, yes. As strange a combination that was. (Ryomen Sukuna, inside Yuuji, was fully embracing that feeling the five other grown jujutsu sorcerers were silently experiencing).

"... Kinda hot, can't lie," Toji hummed out making Megumi beside him cringe.

"Ew, Dad," the younger Fushiguro almost gagged.

Strange did not falter, though, declaring, "The full might of Kamar-Taj stands against you. Do not dare to enter these sacred grounds!" The jujutsu sorcerers had to give it to Dr. Strange, mentally applauding them for being able to resist you. If it were them in his place... well, that would be another story.

"Defensive positions!" the Sorcerer Supreme had commanded to his army from below.

At his defiant words, your shortened temper flared. "You have no idea just how reasonable I've been," you gritted out, all traces of your enchanting persona gone.

Stephen scoffed, retorting, "Book of the Damned, calling yourself a witch, conjuring up creatures to abduct a kid, I don't exactly call that being reasonable!"

"Sending those creatures after her instead of myself was mercy," you reproached, the glowing red balls of energy keeping you in flight flashing brighter with your aggravation. "And in spite of your... hypocrisies and insults," you condemned him harshly. "I have begged you to safely... Get. Out. Of. My. Way." Strange had a bad feeling about where this was about to go.

He definitely did not choose his words wisely, did he?

Geto was really getting déjà vu of himself at hearing you. Sukuna was even more thrilled. Toji, honestly, was impressed. Gojo was just stunned. Nanami and Choso, too, were simply speechless. Megumi and Yuuji only looked horrified. This was the same woman that gave them free food and dessert in her cute little shop? The same woman who would draw cute squiggles and chibi characters on cookies? The same woman who would patch them up when they were wounded? The same woman who gave almost all of them a second chance at life?

They couldn't believe it.

You continued your monologue, anger simmering as your voice turned lower in volume," You have exhausted my patience. But I do hope you understand that even now, what's about to happen...." You gave Strange a hateful, you-made-me-do-this-stare. "This is me being... reasonable."

Your words sent chills down their spines.

With that, you fired a blast of Chaos Magic at him, only for it to be blocked by a now-visible protective magic barrier spanning the area of Kamar-Taj. As Strange flew back down, the jujutsu sorcerers landed on solid ground once more. They stared back up at you outside the barrier.

And even in the distance, they saw that you had become very, very, very pissed off. Seething through your teeth.

"Uh-oh," Gojo exhaled out anxiously as he stared up into the sky. "She's angry."

"No shit, Sherlock," Geto scoffed beside him. "She's fucking livid." Despite not being in the actual battle itself, they could practically feel everything else, including the terror in their hearts as you charged towards Kamar-Taj once more, blasting the shield in different areas with multiple hexes simultaneously (something new they had noticed).

"Reinforce the shield!" Wong yelled out. Even as more sorcerers came to strengthen the barrier, the jujutsu sorcerers could still feel the quaking of the fortress at your blasts. The impacts had grown to be that powerful.

"Whoa, whoa," Yuuji balanced himself with the help of Nanami. The foundation of the building continued to shake.

Realizing that physical attacks were useless, you stopped, instead changing your strategy. Strange immediately noticed this as he saw you scanning the army of sorcerers.

"She's trying to get into their heads," Stephen told Wong, who grumbled.

"Sorcerers, fortify your minds!" he shouted. Honestly, the jujutsu sorcerers felt like they were also being reminded, too. They were getting a bit too distracted by your... change in demeanor. Still, you continued to look for an unfortunate victim. Surely, there had to be one newbie, right?

And you were right.

There was one, indeed, still so apprehensive and vulnerable. There he was. And he knew you were looking at him. You were locking eyes with your helpless target.

Bullseye.

Wide-eyed, the jujutsu sorcerers watched as your astral form appeared right behind one of the younger sorcerers, like the Devil tempting to consume the Forbidden Fruit from the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden. Your physical body, effortlessly awake, floated outside the shield, smirking wide. You astral form only had to whisper one thing for everything to crumble down into pieces.

"Run."

Goosebumps arose on their skins as your prey grew rattled, sprinting away in fear and creating a hole sufficient enough for you to breach in. He had bumped into multiple other sorcerers on the way, too, further weakening the shield. That was when you started channeling more of your Chaos Magic to create another blast.

"Oh fuck, should we run, too?" Gojo asked, yet his legs were already beginning to move. After all, he didn't have his Infinity or his Limitless with him. Right now. And even if this was the past, this was literally, like, a 6D experience.

The blast you shot hit the ground beside them before they could react, knocking them off their feet like the many Eldritch magic sorcerers nearby.

"Oh shit, shit, shit! Get up, Satoru!" Geto grabbed his best friend's shirt as he himself got up from the ground. Toji had Megumi tossed over his shoulder, with Choso doing the same for Yuuji (who had somehow lost his left shoe). Nanami was holding said missing left shoe as he urged the others to run behind Strange near the entrance of Kamar-Taj.

Their reflexes and battle instinct from all their years living in the world of jujutsu had kicked in. But this time, the enemy was you. At least, it felt like it. When they were all near Strange, they took a glimpse of you.

Mercilessly shooting down sorcerers as you charged towards Kamar-Taj, swatting them away like flies with your psionic energy, toppling structures and towers, tossing stone and huge debris everywhere—all while simultaneously defending yourself with an energy shield. You were multitasking offense and defense like it was nothing, reducing Kamar-Taj to ruins in no less than five minutes since the shield was down.

It was chaos.

"Magic on autopilot," Yuuji's eyes were wide.

Right at the entrance, their memory of you as they ran with Wong and Strange was you landing down onto the ground, creating a pulsating wave of energy that decimated any remaining survivors. There was one—screaming and bawling as he crawled on the ground. Without even batting an eye, you waved your hand—literally erasing him from existence with Chaos Magic.

"Holy crap," Yuuji was terrorized. Utterly terrorized. "Did she just... delete that guy out of existence...?"

The others were stunned, as well. But Sukuna? Sukuna was having the time of his life watching you being so cruel and heartless. They didn't even bother telling him off as he openly roared with laughter. It seemed fitting that the King of Curses would laugh so jubilantly, with several fires raging around them, burning bodies into ash and crisp, nothing but sheer blood and destruction at the hands of the Scarlet Witch.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THIS IS IT! THIS IS WHAT I WANTED! THE STENCH OF BLOOD! DEATH! RAGE! FEAR!" Sukuna nearly split his sides in delight. "THE SCARLET WITCH SHALL BE MINE! MINE, MINE, MINE!"

However, much to your surprise, ten Masters of the Mystic Arts bravely... or foolishly... appeared before you through their signature yellow-orange ring portals, poised with their swords; ready to fight. Ah, yes. These were probably the best of the best they had aside from Stephen Strange.

But their best would never be a match for you.

"You dare go against me, sorcerers?" you declared in a booming voice, one fine brow raised and one hand glowing red.

Already highly perturbed at the slaughter you had just executed, the other jujutsu sorcerers could say nothing. As you spoke to the Masters of the Mystic Arts, it felt like you were addressing them, too.

What had become of the sweet woman they knew?

"You are a threat to this world, Scarlet Witch," one of the Masters answered spitefully. "Therefore, we must eliminate you!"

For a few seconds, you were silent. They—including the jujutsu sorcerers—anticipated your reply. Suddenly, you chuckled. Darkly. With it, a matching smirk.

"You are more than welcome to try." It wasn't a threat. It was a taunt. A promise, even.

With that, the Masters of the Mystic Arts charged at you with their swords and magic, only for you to forcefully toss them into the air and slam their bodies into the broken ground. This time, instead of using pure magic to kill them, you even incorporated your magic into skillful hand-to-hand combat, something they hadn't fully seen since what, that time you fought Proxima Midnight in Scotland?

In even more shock and horror, the jujutsu sorcerers watched you move swiftly and fiercely, slicing the Masters with their own swords. With one, you even mind-controlled to slice his own head with his own weapon. The red psionics wrapped around the decapitated body—with you using it as a shield against the other Masters. It was an... effective technique, as grotesque as it was. The corpse had two swords in its abdomen, puppeteering it to kill the other Masters even as it was spurting out fresh blood from its severed neck. As you discarded the body, you expertly dodged and evaded the other Masters charging towards you, snapping their necks or manipulating their bodies to destroy one another.

"Holy mother of..." Gojo gulped, flinching as you crushed a man's skull with your magic. The blood splattered on your face, yet you were unfazed. Behind you, the last Master attempted to inflict some damage, only for him to die the most gruesome death of them all with Chaos Magic as you snapped your gaze to him.

Bones and limbs twisted and broken, screaming in agony, until he was nothing but a mangled mess that exploded into nothing but blood.

"Shit, that's..." Geto's eyes were wide open. Now he was really wondering what would have happened if you got involved with the jujutsu world before Yuuji came along. If you... no, if the Scarlet Witch interfered when he was alive... with you siding with Yuuta and Rika, the Queen of Curses...

He would have been fucked. Kenjaku wouldn't have even had the chance to steal his body because after all this, he realized that you could just delete him out of existence. On a whim. That was how great your power was and you weren't even a jujutsu sorcerer.

You were so unassuming and "normal" on the outside that he would have deemed you a monkey. He would've deemed you a scum of the earth... if he had met you before you met him in that fateful day in your shop. And he would've been so stupid because of that because even without cursed energy, you possessed and mastered something that the Multiverse itself was in danger from.

Chaos Magic.

Yeah. It dawned onto Geto that he would have been really doomed.

And despite all of Masters you sent to their deaths, you looked remorseless. Your eyes lacked the soul and warmth and shine that the jujutsu sorcerers adored. Instead, you were a mindless killing machine with only one mission in mind: to make your children yours again.

"Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful," Sukuna nearly purred and groaned as you mindlessly magicked away the blood splatters on your face. "Fit to be my queen, to rule the world alongside me..."

The others couldn't look more disturbed at what you had just done. Was this how... bad the Darkhold's influence on you was?

As if nothing had happened, you stepped towards the main entrance of Kamar-Taj, using the witch's eye to locate your target. America Chavez. The jujutsu sorcerers momentarily found themselves with the girl, and with her, they could hear unearthly whispers—in Sokovian—as you taunted her. Scaring her. You knew exactly where she was. And you were going to get her.

Hide-and-seek was over. It was time for the chase.

Then your intimidation tactics abruptly stopped as you opened your eyes, and the jujutsu sorcerers were now darting their gaze between you and Strange. You gave them man an unamused look, questioning him silently. Daring him.

"You want the girl, you'll have to go through me," he boldly declared.

You accepted his challenge. "Fine."

What you didn't expect was for you to be lured into a trap. Right as you stepped on a button on the floor, your surroundings morphed into kaleidoscopes and countless distorted reflections of space. The jujutsu sorcerers had also become trapped with you, watching as you stared at the infinite reflections of yourself in the Mirror Dimension.

".... Why is a creepy lullaby playing in the background?" Yuuji frowned. "Horror vibes."

"Yo, this is... well, this is reminding me of my time in the Prison Realm," Gojo gasped out. "But this is pretty spacious, isn't it? Prison Realm's pretty cramped."

All of a sudden, gigantic glass spikes shot out from around you, making you raise your arms to instinctively cover your body. Around them, too, but it was nowhere near the size of the shards trapping you.

"Shit, that scared me," Gojo exhaled, a hand over his rapidly beating heart. "And I stand corrected. It's very cramped in here now."

"And sharp," Geto added. "Watch out."

"Ya know, I'm kinda torn between rooting for Strange or Y/N," Toji commented, crossing his arms as he exaimined the glass. "Maybe I'm biased."

"All of us are," Choso pointed out. "It's Y/N, after all. And mind you, a lot of us aren't blameless either." By that, he was referring to himself, Toji, Geto, and Sukuna, specifically. "Technically, aren't we all killers here?"

"... He's got a point," Nanami replied coolly. "None of us are blameless." With that, it was silent amongst them, with only your slightly labored breathing to be heard as you tried to figure out how to get out.

You attempted to break free by firing a bolt of energy at the glass, only for it to continuously ricochet and nearly hit you. Changing your strategy, they watched as you stared at the broken reflection of your face and reached in-between.

Escaping just needed a bit of creativity and imagination.

And, of course, magic.

The scene cut to Strange trying to teleport America with a Sling Ring, only for it to break off and vanish into thin air. The jujutsu sorcerers flinched as they felt an unseen malevolent presence appear in the room, slamming doors shut like a vengeful spirit out for blood. Then suddenly, the guards protecting America were dragged down into puddles of water by a pair of very familiar arms.

"... The fuck?" Toji blinked, baffled.

"Reflections," Strange deduced, warning Wong and Chavez. "She's using the reflections! Cover them!"

The trio proceeded to grab blankets and cloths from around them, quickly covering puddles that remained from an earlier rain last night.

"Makes sense," Geto murmured, deep in thought. "Like in our world, reflections... or mirrors... can be portals to other dimensions. To domains."

They watched as America was about to cover another tiny puddle of water, but as she stared at it too long, an eye appeared.

"Ahhhhhhh!" America and Yuuji screamed at the same time.

Then, a bent arm with crooked, broken fingers suddenly shot out from behind her, like a zombie who had risen from the dead and from its rotten grave underground. This time, it wasn't only America and Yuuji who had screamed (or at the very least, yelped).

You emerged from the golden gong like something out of The Ring, indisputably twisted and deformed, skin split open in multiple places, limbs and neck snapped the wrong directions, and crawling on-fours and on your back as your disfigured bones popped back into place through the Chaos Magic running through your veins like blood.

It was at that very moment that the several jujutsu sorcerers present realized that the Scarlet Witch was a thousand times more terrorizing than any cursed spirit that they would ever face in their lifetime.

"Oh my God!" Yuuji exclaimed. "Ohhhhhhh my God!"

"The fuck is that?" Sukuna and Toji chorused out, watching your body be literally put back together again hideously.

"... I think... I think I'm gonna be sick," a pale, severely-disturbed Megumi unwillingly blurted out as he retched.

"That is... I have no words," Gojo stuttered. Was he disgusted at seeing the insides of your body all jagged up from breaking the shards of the Mirror Dimension? Was he terrified at seeing you come out of the gong like you were that girl from The Grudge? Was he shocked at seeing you reassemble your entire body so repulsively? Yes, yes, and yes. All of them were.

"Never really liked Pennywise anyway," Geto mumbled. He would definitely not be able to erase that image from his head. And he's seen his fair share of revolting curses. "What the actual fuck did Y/N just do to herself?"

"Well shit," Toji was unable to remove his eyes from you as you regenerated. He didn't exactly know what to feel.

The rest were too stunned to speak.

"You gave all those lives just to keep my from my children," you mocked Dr. Strange, walking towards him and his allies like you didn't just break all the bones in your body and fix it. You would've preferred to emerge out of one of the puddles so that you wouldn't come out so distorted, but they'd covered them all or weren't big enough for you to get out. So, the gong was the only option you had—even with how imperfect its reflection was.

"You took those lives!" Stephen yelled back, protectively putting America behind him. "You cannot be allowed to cross into the Multiverse."

"I'm not a monster, Stephen," you defended yourself.

"... Uh, wouldn't be so sure about that," Gojo scratched his head at your remark.

"I'm a mother," you added, stopping a few meters in front of America, Wong, and Stephen.

"Wanda, you have no children!" Strange argued, frustrated by your useless quest for your kids. "They don't exist!"

"Oh, but they do. In every other universe," you enunciated firmly. "I know they do. Because I dream of them. Every. Night." With that, you made a series of hypnotizing hand motions that summoned the Darkhold in front of you. From the Book of the Damned emerged a red mist of your Chaos Magic, and it showed everyone the multiple universes—countless—all containing you and your happy, peaceful family. "I dream of my boys," you whispered, eyes glazing with tears as you watched them grow up with you. "Of our... life together."

The jujutsu sorcerers gazed sadly, suddenly feeling sorry for you as they saw all the other universes that had you and your loved ones as a complete family. The highlights of the alternate universes were mostly Billy and Tommy.

In one universe, they saw you holding the newborn twins in your arms, singing softly a Sokovian lullaby as you rocked them to sleep. In another universe, they saw you clapping happily as you taught the twins how to walk, with them taking their wobbly first steps towards you. There was even another universe where you were simply helping the preschool-aged kids do some arts-and-crafts activities. There was one when they were in the last age they remembered, still kids, almost teens, but you three were running in the field and playing catch with them. In another, you were with the older, teenaged twins as they embraced you, telling you they loved you.

It felt like watching WandaVision all over again, but this time, a version of if it had kept playing until you and Vision grew old with Billy and Tommy. They also noted that in these alternate universes, sometimes Vision was there, sometimes other men were the twins' father, or you were a single mom. Either way, the you of every other universe was far more content and happy with her life. None of them had hurt and experienced so much pain that they were forged into the Scarlet Witch.

None of them. Only you. And God, wasn't that unfair?

"Mom..." Yuuji whispered, seeing tears form in your eyes. "So, all the other variants of her except... her... are happy?"

"Fate really is cruel, huh?" Geto remarked with a tone of pity for you. He frowned.

"If we were in her place, wouldn't we go crazy, too?" Toji muttered. He knew he would go crazy if he found out that in all the infinite universes, it was only in his universe that his life sucked before his first wife saved him and made him truly happy. What if... in other lives, he got to grow old with the love of his life?

Choso silently agreed. What if it was only in his universe that his brothers met their end? That he wouldn't be able to be with them? He'd be pissed, too. But that was a what-if he would never be able to answer.

Nanami was thinking how it would be if he found out that it was only himself that lost Haibara. What if all the other Nanami in other universes had a different destiny? What if Haibara survived? What if... what if...

"Every night, the same dream," you breathed. Then, right as you shut the Darkhold, a single tear dropped down you cheek. It was dark again, with no glowing red magic to illuminate the room. "And every morning, the same... nightmare."

America's eyes showed sympathy; she knew what it felt like to yearn for her family. Her mothers, specifically. Even Strange felt pity for you after seeing what you had just shown him. It truly was unfair. And he felt like he needed to apologize for you for his insensitive comment about you having no children because, it turns out, you did. Just not in this universe. But that didn't change the massacre you had just committed minutes ago. "... What if you reach them? What happens to the other you? What happens to their mother?" he asked, an ominous feeling in his gut for your answer.

Your expression darkened. Slowly, a miniscule yet sinister smirk curved your lip up, only implying one thing. Immediately, they knew your answer through your silence.

The next few minutes were but a blur, with a short-lived fight between you and Wong. The jujutsu sorcerers watched, once more in horror, as you restricted America and began siphoning her powers from her. In her fear, portals to the Multiverse were involuntarily opened.

Strange, in an attempt to save Chavez, flew towards her. You shot a single blast at him to deter him, however, something else happened.

He aimed wrong, still dragging America with him, but this time, into the multiple portals across the Multiverse.

And this time, the jujutsu sorcerers had been dragged along with them.

"Ooooohhhhh, shiiiiii—" Gojo's, Toji's, Geto's, and Yuuji's voices echoed as they got the full experience of travelling the Multiverse. From Kamar-Taj, they were literally flying into worlds with the Living Tribunal, outer space, an icy planet, quantum particles, an underwater space, a world where Stark Technology was prominent, hell itself, a jungle full of dinosaurs, a planet ruled by bees, a place where everything was cartoons and comics, another dimension where they were literally turned into blocks, then another were they became splashes of color, then a world where HYDRA succeeded, and a whole lot more they couldn't process in a blink of an eye because suddenly, they were on a rooftop in a random universe where a lot of things seemed more advanced in New York.

While Strange and Chavez conversed, the others were not too happy.

"Holy. Fucking. Shit." Geto held his aching, spinning head. The others also landed face first into the floor.

"We just travelled the Multiverse," Gojo gawked, then pointed to himself in realization, bewildered and shaken to the core. "I just travelled the Multiverse. Oh God, that felt like being in my own Infinite Void but worse somehow. Much worse."

"Ow," Choso groaned, rubbing the bump on his head (he had been protecting Yuuji's head, in turn, preventing him from holding his own head from the impact).

A grimacing Toji had done the same for Megumi's head, but his son was already in a corner puking his guts out in whatever pail he could find, just like Strange who was also retching from the motion sickness. Nanami, whose glasses were still miraculously on his face, was patting Megumi's back. Still, Kento himself seemed as if he was in a daze after the entire ordeal.

Yuuji was laid flat on the ground, eyes staring into the sky tiredly. "... I wanna go home really bad," he mumbled, dizzy from Multiverse hopping. "I want Mom back. The nice one. The one that gives me rice bowls and dessert out of nowhere and hugs me. I don't wanna be in her past. I just want the present... her. I don't care. I just want my mom."

"Me, too, kiddo," Satoru pulled him up, frowning. "Oi! Megumi-chan! You good? We gotta follow the girl and Strange!"

Nanami offered Megumi a yellow-and-black-dotted handkerchief from his pocket, which the spiky-haired boy gratefully accepted to wipe his mouth. "Y-Yeah. I'm good. I think. Blegh," he cringed at the taste of acid and vomit in his mouth.

The jujutsu sorcerers tagged along with Strange and America as they searched for the variant of Dr. Strange who guarded this universe's New York Sanctum, stopping by for some stolen pizza balls, crossing the road on a red light (also weird for the jujutsu sorcerers), and stumbling upon a Memory Lane free trial—which felt really meta with how they were practically experiencing your Memory Lane—only for all of them to stop in front of a huge statue made in memory of that universe's Dr. Strange. America asked the question they all had in their heads.

"If other you's dead, who's master of the Sanctum?"

With the way things were going, it appeared that the Karl Mordo of this universe was about to fight them, only for him to introduce himself and laugh, hugging Strange. "My brother! Come in! And tell me about your universe!"

Stunned, Strange awkwardly laughed, ushering America to follow the man into the Sanctum. After some quick pleasantries, Strange got straight to the point, mentioning you as they discussed current events through tea. Instantly, the jujutsu sorcerers' ears perked up.

"Our Wanda has the ability to conjure demons and monsters to attack America in other universes," Strange warned Mordo.

"So she has the Darkhold?" Mordo inquired, slightly leaning towards Stephen in question.

"You know of the Darkhold?" Strange asked.

"Oh yes. We have a Darkhold in this universe, too. I guard it here in this Sanctum," Mordo disclosed. "We would never risk a weapon that dangerous falling into the wrong hands."

"Damn right," Strange muttered.

"But if your Darkhold is anything like ours, I'm afraid she can do far worse than just summon monsters to come after you here," Mordo advised.

"Far worse? Hasn't she done the worst already in Kamar-Taj?" Nanami wondered out loud, the chilling memory of you crawling out of that gong sending shivers down his spine, like insects crawling on his skin. It was... extremely... disturbing.

"Who knows? If Y/N did some IT and The Grudge kind of shit, maybe she's gonna go The Exorcist this time. Or The Conjuring," Toji huffed out. "Maybe even Final Destination or something."

Funnily enough, the infamous Sorcerer Killer had no idea how right he was with his offhanded comment.

"What do you mean?" America nervously asked.

"There is a... spell contained within those pages," Mordo revealed in a hushed tone. "Corrosive to the soul. A desecration of reality itself." Whether it was for effect or if it was forbidden to speak about, the multiple candles in the room were suddenly blown out by a wind that came out of nowhere.

"Uh-oh..." Yuuji's eyes darted around. "I've got a bad, bad feeling about this."

"Dreamwalking," Mordo spoke out. "A dreamwalking sorcerer projects their own consciousness from their universe into another, possessing the body of an alternate self."

The jujutsu sorcerers froze at his statement. Gojo spoke out first, pointing at his ear with a befuddled expression, "Wait, wait, did I just hear this guy right? Possessing the body of an alternate self?"

"Dreamwalking...?" Geto quietly repeated to himself in shock. Nanami, who was beside Toji, sighed out.

"Turns out you were pretty accurate with your prediction," the blonde spoke to the ex-assassin, whose eyes were as wide as saucers.

Mordo continued, "They may puppeteer this unholy doppelganger and pursue their enemies from afar."

"That's scary," Yuuji exhaled, running a hand through his pink locks. "So what, Mom's really gonna go even batshit crazier?"

"Sounds like it," Choso answered back, listening intently.

"The possession is not a permanent link between realities. But in the fleeting time they dreamwalk, they can do irreparable damage to the universe they invade," Mordo divulged. "So it may not be a demon you face. It may be the Scarlet Witch."

"Why didn't she do that in the first place?" America asked, confused.

"Because that was her being reasonable," Stephen replied tensely, turning to Mordo as your warnings echoed in his ear. "What do you know about the Book of Vishanti?"

"The Darkhold's antithesis?" Mordo seemed unsurprised and calm. "It can give a sorcerer whatever power they need to vanquish their enemy."

"I need your help to get me to it," Strange requested, only to start feeling queasy. Very, very queasy. His brows furrowed as his vision spun, blurring.

Meanwhile, the jujutsu sorcerers grew bewildered as the scene in front of them began flickering back and forth. Now, they were seeing you restrain Wong with your magic in bits and pieces. Yet, at the same time, they were seeing America and Strange, as well.

"I'm sorry, Stephen." Mordo stood up, walking towards the staggering Strange, "But I hope you, of all people, understand that it is not Wanda Maximoff who threatens our reality. It's the two of you."

"Oh, God," Chavez whispered, losing consciousness.

"What was in that tea?" Strange stumbled, falling to the floor and dropping his teacup. "You son of a—" He tried standing up, but to no avail, seeing the teapot on the floor which glowed green. "The Sands of Nisanti..." he realized. No wonder he was so drowsy.

"What's happening? We didn't even have any of his tea!" Yuuji exclaimed, the scene still flickering between you with an unconscious Wong in Kamar-Taj and Strange with Chavez in the unknown universe.

"Please don't let us be thrown in the Multiverse again," Megumi prayed to whatever gods were there, knowing he might puke again. "Please, please, please."

"I'm only acting as you would," Mordo said, leaving. Strange closed his eyes, whispering one last thing.

"She's coming."

Before they knew it, the flitting scene fully morphed to you in Kamar-Taj, standing in the middle of multiple, brightly-lit candles forming a circle. You were performing some sort of witchy ritual, your hands gracefully executing a series of hand gestures which brought forth the Book of the Damned. Your hands glowed the misty, reddish-black fog of your Chaos Magic. All of them were mesmerized—like they were in a trance—as they observed such a... blaphemous ceremony.

"Hmm. This is quite entertaining," Sukuna finally spoke out once more, chuckling to himself as he watched you cross your legs, floating in mid-air with you eyes closed and your blackened fingers resting on your lap.

"Oh God, she really is a witch," Geto breathed out at the sight.

Countless glowing balls of reddish-black energy materialized behind you, connecting you to the entire Multiverse as you searched your variants one by one, trying to see which matched America's whereabouts. When you finally found it, you projected your soul to your target variant, traversing the Multiverse. The jujutsu sorcerers, too, watched with their very eyes as your soul traveled the neuron-like network of universes. They were transported inside the house—the Vision Residence—of your variant, arriving with a faint, echoing scream in the background. Now, they were right behind your variant, who was cleaning up for the night.

"Boys, it's time for bed," the variant of you reminded her kids as she took away the dishes.

"Can we have a little more ice cream? Please, please, please?" the twins begged. "A little more, please?" Alternate you shook her head.

"Hey, don't make Mom out to be the bad guy," other you gently chastised, making them pout.

"Awww, okay, Mom." Thankfully, Billy and Tommy were easily distracted by a game, allowing you to clean up in peace.

Or so you thought.

Alternate you stopped in her tracks around the same time the jujutsu sorcerers' heads snapped towards the empty staircase in her residence. It felt like somebody was watching them. Her. As jujutsu sorcerers and trained killers, they knew better than to underestimate the invisible.

"... Y/N is here, isn't she?" Nanami murmured, eyes trained on the staircase. Nothing appeared to there, but the air... it was unsettling. Like a silent monster hiding under the bed. Or in the closet.

"Even without my Six Eyes, she is seriously giving off crazy cursed spirit behavior," Gojo muttered with a shiver, then turned to one of the men with him. "No offense, Choso."

The cursed spirit just blinked at him, then shrugged wordlessly, as if telling the other man, "None taken."

They observed as alternate you mulled over the sudden, nerve-wracking atmosphere. She knew something was wrong. There was an unseen, foreboding presence with her. She hasn't used her powers in a while, yet even then, something primal in her was telling her she was being watched. Deciding not to think much of it—perhaps it was just an owl outside—she hesitantly stepped towards the kitchen.

As she did it, the sound of crickets outside faded away. The warm lights in the room started flickering strangely.

On. Off. On. Off.

She took a glance at her kids, who seemed to be unaware of what was happening. Dread filled her entire being. Was she going insane? Was she seeing things? As she headed to the sink, the lampshade installed above the dining table began swinging wildly by itself as it kept flickering on and off, its creaks and screeches amplified like nails on a chalkboard. Its angry flickers were making other you feel quite lightheaded, too.

Creaaaaaaaak!

Behind her, the jujutsu sorcerers were seeing and feeling—experiencing the whole thing—unable to describe what they were going through. What alternate you was going through.

When she turned to the other direction to try and ground herself, she saw herself in her own picture frame move. No, it didn't just move. Its head turned and the smile on its face vanished as it glared directly at her.

"What... the fuck...?" Toji said what everyone was thinking, bewildered.

"I've seen a hella lot of cursed spirits but this is just plain creepy," Gojo muttered, feeling cold.

"Damn right," Geto replied, covering his ears in irritation at the scratching sound of the lampshade creaking. "Ugh. That makes me want to claw my ears out."

Breathe. Breathe.

Alternate you was starting to hyperventilate in panic, a random burst of wind making Billy's and Tommy's bowls fall... sideways? Not vertically to the ground due to normal gravity, but horizontally to the counter, defying the laws of physics. She was hearing haunting, evanescent whispers in Sokovian, too.

All of which she understood fully.

As her vision began to tilt, she ran towards the sink to hold herself—to stabilize herself before she fell. However, her eyes caught movement on one of the dirty plates beside the sink. The peas on Tommy's used plate were rolling around on their own, sounding awfully like hard mables on stone.

Rrrrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrrr.

Her head whipped to the right, hearing... ocean waves? In the unfinished cup of tea, she was seeing... roaring tides crashing against each other? Terror froze the blood in her veins.

Shhhhhhhhh. Shhhhhhhh. Shhhhhh.

Something was very wrong.

When she lifted her head, instead of seeing her normal reflection, she was met with you—her evil, deranged doppelganger. Your glowing, scarlet irises stared daggers into her entire being. Not even giving her another second to react, you entered her body—stealing its place and locking her soul away. She struggled against the invasion of her own body, writhing and screaming, eyes widened and limbs taut, but you were the stronger soul.

You'll take her place from inside her.

The jujutsu sorcerers could only watch in muted horror as the depraved, demonic-like spiritual possession took place. Finishing up the possession, your eyes glowed a brighter red before dimming back to its regular shade. You let out a small breath of relief, subtly wiggling your shoulders—as if testing out your new body. Strangely enough, it felt comfortable. Snug and fit—except for the wails of your alternate self in her own mind.

You'd shut her up soon enough.

Suddenly, your eyes met theirs for the first time, making the spectators watching the whole scene visibly flinch and hold their breaths unconsciously. A tiny smirk appeared on your lips as you turned away.

"Oh?" Sukuna, as a mouth on his vessel's face, sounded out in interest. He was the only one finding a sick sense of enjoyment in all of this.

"Did... Did she just... see us?" Yuuji cowered in fear, hiding behind Nanami and Choso. The other men couldn't answer him, also stunned.

"This... is very different... from her interview from that one Modern Family-themed WandaVision episode..." Gojo swallowed, traumatized at you breaking the fourth wall of whatever spell or illusion they were thrown into.

They may exorcise cursed spirits for a living, but the Scarlet Witch introduced to them a sense of dread that was unmatched. You were the stuff nightmares were made out of.

"Mom?"

You halted in your steps, hearing the two voices you've longed to hear for so long. But now was not the time. You couldn't face them now, could you? You had to look for America first. Still, your heart couldn't resist. "... Yes, sweetheart?" you shakily replied, unable to keep the emotion out of your voice. Suddenly, the fear in the jujutsu sorcerers' hearts turned into pity. In this moment, they suddenly wanted to give their condolences to you, now fully knowing how much you'd lost.

You were going to meet your children once again.

"Where are you going?"

Your heart clenched. "Just... to take out the trash," you lied, stammering. However, as they rushed and urge you to come to them, saying they'd show you something. You slowly turned on your heels as the boys asked you to hurry up, your eyes welling with tears as you finally saw them again.

Billy and Tommy.

Your twins. Your babies. The two beings whom you loved more than life itself aside from your late husband. The very beings which were perfectly half you and half the love of your life.

The began arguing on who would start, only for you to cut in, voice trembling with emotion, "Why... don't you both... start... it... whatever it is... together?"

"Okay!" your kids chirped, counting down.

"I wonder what they're gonna do," Yuuji asked, only to sweatdrop at what happened next.

"We like ice cream, like every child should!" the twins sang, off-key. You didn't mind (but some of the jujutsu sorcerers did). "And if you give us ice cream, we promise to be good!"

"Ugh," Sukuna and Toji groaned simultaneously in irritation.

"Definitely not singers," Gojo snorted, trying to push the horrifying memory of you possessing your alternate self into the back of his mind, only for Geto to elbow him.

"I think it's cute, so don't be rude," his best friend chided, his soft dad side coming out. "Mimiko and Nanako did something similar when they wanted candy."

"... Mom's crying," Yuuji suddenly pointed out sadly. Tears were flowing down your cheeks as you cupped the twins' faces gently, like you were touching them as newborns again.

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to stay here with them. Just for a little while. You'd give them ice cream and talk with them. Yeah. That seemed like a good plan. Everything else could wait.

Then, the scene changed once more as they were brought back to the original universe you were in, where your original body was floating in the middle of the circle of candles. They saw Wong's limbs restrained by your magic. However, one of the survivors, Sara, came up to him.

"You're alive," Wong breathed out. Sara nodded solemnly.

"Yes. But so many others were lost," Sara murmured regretfully. Wong then turned to your dreamwalking, vulnerable form.

"Set me free. I need to destroy the book," he stated, only for the woman beside him to shake her head, placing a reassuring hand on his cheek.

"No. It cannot be you." With that, Sara took out a dagger from her robes, tackling the Darkhold and stabbing it.

"Sara! No!" Wong cried out.

The jujutsu sorcerers watched, for the nth time, in horror as destroying the Darkhold burned Sara into ash, a sole tear the only evidence of her life. From the other universe, the scene before them flickered once more, between your possessed alternate self and your dreamwalking state. With the Darkhold destroyed, the connection severed and the spell reversed.

Flicker.

You roughly fell to the floor, dropping the porcelain plates and utensils you were going to use for Billy's and Tommy's ice cream. At the same time, they saw your once-dreamwalking body get blasted down to the ground in your original universe.

Flicker.

Hearing the crash from the kitchen, the twins came running to you. "Mom!"

Flicker.

"What happened!?"

Flicker.

Still, they saw you frantically get up, kneeling in front of the twins, flickering from one universe to another and attempting to sustain the possession... trying to stay with your boys.

Flicker. Flicker.

"Are you okay!?" they asked worriedly, helping you get up.

Flicker... Flicker... Flicker... Nothing.

"Billy... Tommy..." you panted, their concerned faces disappearing from your field of vision as you unwillingly returned back to your original universe.

"Y/N..." the sorcerers murmured, again sympathetic of your situation, no matter how twisted and fucked up it was. In a frenzy, you scampered towards the remains of the Darkhold, whimpering at its sorry state.

"No, no, no, no," you whispered miserably, holding the book up. It was gone. Dismayed, your lips wobbled as you became hopeless. The jujutsu sorcerers thought that this would be it. Your corruption would stop. The ink on your fingers grew fainter already, only tinges and traces of it left.

Suddenly, you glowered darkly.

And they stilled in fear once again as you slowly swivelled around to Wong. Before they could react, you had already thrown him to the ruins of Kamar-Taj, striding menacingly towards him.

"I need the Darkhold's spells," you demanded impatiently, playing no games and getting straight to the point. "You are the Sorcerer Supreme. Tell me what you know!"

"You'll have to kill me first, witch," Wong spat out spitefully.

Your eyes narrowed as his defiance, something Sukuna was very much liking. He chuckled once more before Yuuji slapped a hand over him again. The others were watching the scene anxiously, not knowing what you'd do next (because honestly, you were being unbelievably unpredictable in this obsessed state of yours). "Not you," you spoke out, raising one hand. "Them."

From behind Wong, four survivors were swept into the air, your Chaos Magic physically tormenting them and twisting their bodies painfully. Even their cries and wails of pain weren't enough to deter you. You would get what you want. No matter what it takes. You didn't care.

"Wanda, stop!" Wong pleaded, unable to see his students tortured. You didn't stop, cracking and popping your fingers even more to strengthen the pain they were feeling. "Wanda, please!"

"Goddamn, she's crueler here than with Kenjaku," Toji stated. He wouldn't be messing with you anytime soon after this. Not that he would. Ever.

"The Darkhold's clouded her reason so much," Nanami frowned. This wasn't you. You were taking out your pain and rage on these innocent wizards.

"... The Darkhold was a copy!" Wong relented. Instantly, with a wave of your hand, the torture and screams stopped.

"A copy?"

"Legend speaks of a mountain with the wretched spells you seek carved into its walls," Wong shut his eyes. He shouldn't he telling you this, but he had to. The guilt of so many lives lost were already weighing down on him. "It's there the Darkhold was transcribed. Mount Wundagore."

You paused. It was a vaguely familiar place to you. It was near Sokovia, and briefly, you could remember old folktales and legends there from your childhood. "Mount Wundagore?" you repeated to confirm.

"No one has survived the journey," Wong disclosed as you set the four survivors down—astonishingly, in a gentler manner—to the ground. But, from one of the corpses, you used your magic to throw an extra Sling Ring to Wong.

Mount Wundagore was your next destination.

"Perhaps we will be the exception," you stated darkly, accent thicker as you set your goal to the mountain.

Suddenly, the jujutsu sorcerers were teleported to where Strange and America were contained in an advanced research facility. They met 838-Christine... who consequently told Strange that he was 616-Strange... which led to them to wonder.

"What number is our universe?" Choso questioned out loud.

"I wonder that, too..." Yuuji eeplied, scratching his head. "All this Multiverse stuff is making my head hurt."

"Someone from my universe wants that girl," Strange warned 838-Christine, who refused to let him and America go. "And she's going to rip this place apart atom-by-atom until she gets what she wants."

"... That's one way to describe Y/N," Toji shrugged, turning to Yuuji... or the curse inside him. "She did beat ya up in your domain that time ya ripped Itadori's heart, didn't ya?"

"Tch!" Sukuna snarled, but didn't deny it. The other sorcerers and Yuuji himself were surprised, not knowing about the event.

"She beat Sukuna up in his domain?" Gojo questioned, hearing the juicy gossip. "Heeeey, when did that happen?"

"Sometime after ya told her that Sukuna ripped this kid's heart before he got resurrected," Toji shared, smirking at the memory, glancing at Geto and Choso. "Ya two weren't there yet, so it was just the two of us. But I'll tell ya what, seeing an old woman in a dark room with glowing red eyes and floating knives is something ya wouldn't wanna see. No wonder she came back in a good mood after beating the shit outta ya."

"She did not beat shit outta me, bastard!" Sukuna protested, growling. He refused to be humiliated by a man who didn't even use jujutsu!

Funnily enough, after everything that's happened, they could vividly imagine what Toji was describing.

They heard Strange continue talking, "So I don't care if you're from the Avengers or SHIELD—"

"We're neither," a voice interrupted from behind Christine. It was 838-Mordo, with...

"Are those a bunch of Ultron bots behind him?" Nanami recognized. "Like those Stark created when we saw the younger Y/N and Pietro."

"Seems like it," Megumi agreed.

"Well, what then? HYDRA?" Strange shouted. That was a word the jujutsu sorcerers hadn't heard since what? Civil War? WandaVision? They were getting really familiar with the history of your universe... or Earth-616, specifically.

"The Illuminati will see you now," Mordo announced.

"The Illumi-what-y?" Strange (and hilariously, Gojo and Yuuji) said out loud in confusion.

Before more explanations could be made, they were suddenly on top of a freezing, snowy mountain. Unfortunately for them, despite the upcoming snowstorm—actually, beknownst to them, ongoing snowstorm—in their world, they had removed their jackets, coats, scarves, and layers back in your home. Now, they were left helpless to the powers of nature, the icyness nipping at their skin.

"W-W-W-Where a-are w-we?" Yuuji chattered, hands by his shoulders. The other sorcerers were chattering, too, in the middle of the frosty temperature.

"I-I-I t-t-think this i-is M-Mount W-Wundag-gore?" Gojo replied, unsure and shaking. "F-Fuck, i-it's f-f-freezing o-out h-h-here!"

"W-W-We r-r-really sh-shouldn't h-have re-removed o-o-o-our c-c-c-coats," Geto sputtered, visible puffs of air coming from his mouth. No matter what they did, the strong winds were throwing snow in their faces.

That was when a golden-orange portal appeared before them, with you and Wong emerging from it, trekking the mountain shortly. When you arrived, you squinted, spotting a structure hidden by the fog up ahead. God, it was cold.

"You couldn't portal us up there!?" you exclaimed, skin flushing from how frosty it was. Still, the jujutsu sorcerers were surprised by the fact that your teeth weren't chattering like theirs.

"My magic can only take us so far," Wong huffed. "Masters of the Mystic Arts weren't meant to tread upon the forbidden grounds of Wundagore." You had no idea if he was just stalling or telling the truth, but you made up your mind. With a determined gaze, you used your magic to fly to the entrance of ruined castle, dragging Wong (and the jujutsu sorcerers) behind you.

"Aaaaaaand, we're flying again," Megumi muttered to himself, not looking at the steep height below them.

"Weeeee!" Gojo exclaimed. Damn. He really missed flying with his powers, too.

"That's one huge-ass castle," Toji commented as they flew closer to the decrepit stronghold.

"Seriously giving me Coppola's Dracula vibes," Geto remarked, staring up at the impressively foreboding Darkhold Castle.

You landed on the entrance of the former fortress, examining the many broken stone pillars and dust and snow that had accumulated.

"Eons ago, the first demon, Chthon, carved his Dark Magic into this tomb," Wong explained, swallowing nervously. You (and the jujutsu sorcerers) stared at the Satanic inscriptions glowing red on the walls—very similar to your Chaos Magic, which you were currently using as an alternative torch.

Crack!

You lightly gasped in surprise. Their heads quickly snapped behind them, seeing some rocks fall down from above. Nothing was there. False alarm. You all continued to roam the area as Wong spoke.

"There's no telling what soulless monstrosities lie within." He was looking up at a dark, hooded skeleton which had its arms and talons crossed like a mummy. Using your magic, you lit up four large cauldrons, which surrounded what appeared to be a...

"Is that... a sacrificial altar?" Geto asked out loud. "Whoa. Damn." Even his former cult didn't have anything as nefarious as that.

All of a sudden, roars resounded from behind them. From the shadows emerged monstrous, red-eyed, demonic creatures, the Knights of Wundagore. Prepared to defend yourselves, you flew on top of the altar for battle whereas Wong's Eldritch magic circles appeared on his hands.

"The fuck are those things?" Toji asked.

"No idea," the others chorused.

That was when each of the knights formed their claws into fists, resting it on their chests as they respectfully knelt down before you—pledging their allegiance to the prophesized Scarlet Witch.

"They've been waiting for me," you exhaled out, stunned.

"Look," Nanami pointed behind you in awe. The jujustu sorcerers turned around. At the same time, you did, too. And you came to a startling realization.

The chapter devoted to you in the Darkhold was real. The prophecy of the Scarlet Witch. There was a magnificent statue... of you. Old and ancient, but true. Made by worshippers of the Elder God, Chthon.

"This isn't a tomb," you concluded, chin raised higher this time at the demons kneeling in front of you. "It's a throne."

"... A throne?" Sukuna intoned, mind clouded with hunger and passion. Second by second, he was getting even antsier to meet you again. To claim you as his. For you to become his Queen. After a thousand years, he's finally found someone worthy enough to become his partner.

You.

But he knew he had competition. The five other men with him, although he saw them as insignificant sow, held affections for you as well. Gojo Satoru. Nanami Kento. Fushiguro Toji. Geto Suguru. Kamo Choso.

Ryomen Sukuna was eager to win among all of them.

The scene changed from the Darkhold Castle back to where Strange was. He was being escorted by Ultron sentient bots to in front of what looked to be a council.

838-Mordo decreed, "Stephen Strange. You are now called before the Illuminati. I, Baron Karl Mordo, the Sorcerer Supreme, do hereby—"

"Wait, wait. Karl?" Stephen laughed at his enemy, only for a vibranium shield to be thrown beside him. It boomeranged back to a woman. A very, very familiar looking woman. Peggy Carter?

"Isn't that Cap's ex?" Gojo whispered to the others. "Why's she Captain America?"

"She did sound pretty badass when Cap talked about her with Mom back then," Yuuji said, remembering the events right after the Lagos Incident.

"Captain Carter. The First Avenger," Mordo introduced.

"Blackagar Boltagon. Keeper of the Terrigen Mists. The Inhuman King."

"Blackagar Boltagard?" Strange repeated as a jab. "Hidigy hidithere!"

"Pshh. What is this, Game of Thrones?" Geto snickered. Even he found it amusing.

"Captain Marvel. Defender of the Cosmos." Instead of it being Carol Danvers, it was Maria Rambeau, Monica's mother.

"And the smartest man alive, Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four," Mordo finished.

"Fantastic Four?" Strange was incredulous. "Didn't you guys chart in the sixties?"

"... Wasn't that the Beatles?" Megumi thought to himself.

"I'm sorry, is this a joke to you?" Maria asked, insulted.

"Well, there's a guy over there with a fork on his head," Strange pointedly looked at Black Bolt. "So, yeah, a little bit." Said man raised a finger over his lips, signalling Stephen to basically zip his mouth.

"Be grateful Black Bolt doesn't engage you in conversation," Peggy advised.

"Why, does he have bad breath?" Strange taunted.

"Huh. Sounds like something you and I would say," Gojo turned to Geto, who was impressed with Strange.

"Definitely. How... strange," Geto replied, making himself and Gojo laugh at their own jokes.

"You two are corny as hell," Toji shook his head. But he wouldn't lie. If he were in Strange's position, he'd say the same things, too. Heck, he used to do that with the Zenin Clan elders when he was younger.

They all listened as Reed explained to Strange the dangers of him in the Multiverse, telling him what incursions were and what their consequences were. Strange, however, had another priority.

"If it's incursions you're worried about, do you seriously think I'm a bigger threat than the Scarlet Witch?!" Strange asked quizzically, trying to convince them of the threat you posed.

"Oh, we can handle your little witch if she decides to dreamwalk," Maria arrogantly countered.

Gojo clicked his tongue disapprovingly, "Wouldn't be so sure about that, Captain Marvel."

"No. No, you cannot," Strange responded. "Not unless you give me the Book of Vishanti."

However, the members of the Illuminati disclosed that it wasn't the Scarlet Witch who was the greatest threat to their reality—or so they thought. That was when a man in a fancy wheelchair entered the room.

"Our final member. Professor Charles Xavier. One of the greatest telepaths alive."

Then, they were in the Darkhold Castle again. You were looking at a statue of a boy, touching it nostalgically. Somehow, it looked like one of your boys. Billy. But older.

"All these scene changes are seriously making me nauseous," Megumi quietly complained. He still hadn't recovered from being thrown across the Multiverse.

"You're wondering what happens now," you addressed Wong.

"No. That, I've already accepted," the Sorcerer Supreme replied. "But I do wonder, when you could force America to send you to any universe you want, why take her power for your own? You know it will kill her."

"For Billy and Tommy. To protect them," you instantly answered, as if it were that simple. You walked towards them. "In the infinite Multiverse, there's a cure for every illness. A solution to every problem," you justified. "I won't lose them again."

"The Darkhold's really clouded her reason," Nanami sighed. "There's no turning back."

"Why's Mom so... good in our world, then?" Yuuji inquired, not understanding.

"I don't know. But more things will happen for sure," Kento replied.

"Try as you might, Wanda, you cannot control everything!" Wong stated. Despite what you've done, perhaps there was a way for you to still see reason. To realize what you were doing was wrong.

"But I can!" you shot back, gesturing to the castle. "Look around you! It's carved. In stone. I was meant to rule everything." You eyed the grandiose statue that imitated your likeness. You were praised and adored even before you were born into this world.

"... Rule everything, huh?" Geto mumbled. "Interesting, indeed." He recalled wanting to do that once by eliminating all the monke—non-sorcerers.

"We can rule everything together," Sukuna cut in. Everyone else rolled their eyes.

"Not gonna happen, sicko," Gojo answered back, making the King of Curses scoff at him.

You shook your head dejectedly, "But that's not what I want. I just want my boys."

"At the cost of a child's life!?" Wong argued, voice raising. "Is there no peace in knowing that even though you can't be with the ones you love, there are worlds where you are together?!"

His remark hit the jujutsu sorcerers right on the nail. After all, in their field, they'd lost so many. But it was comforting to think that maybe in another universe, they were alive and well. You, however, grew enraged at his remark.

"Is that not enough!?" he shouted.

You lifted your hand and raised him in the air, whispering angrily, "No." You then proceeded to throw him off the castle without a second thought, startling the sorcerers.

You were gonna do it your way.

"Oh shit," Toji, Geto, and Gojo cussed.

"She threw him off," Choso gawped.

The next thing they knew, you were repeating the dreamwalking ritual once more and commencing the spell. This time, you had four loyal Knights of Wundagore to stand guard around you should something happen.

Now they were back in Earth-838's Vision Residence. They watched in terror as you possessed you other self again. You kissed your sleeping twins' foreheads and this time, you wasted no time, using your powers to fly off to where America Chavez was.

Meanwhile, Strange and the Illuminati were still speaking. Xavier showed Strange, and consequently the jujutsu sorcerers with them, a memory of 838-Strange's fate. They were on planet Titan, Thanos's home planet and where the original battle also took place in Universe-616. However, this time, a dead Thanos was in the corner, his own sword through his chest. Kneeling before the Illuminati was a repetant 838-Strange, his fingers stained black with the repeated use of the Darkhold.

"I shall miss you, my friend," Xavier bid him goodbye goodheartedly.

838-Strange nodded, forlorn yet ultimately accepting his fate. "... I'm ready."

It was how he died that surprised the jujutsu sorcerers.

A regretful-looking Black Bolt stepped forward, saying two words which eliminated Strange on the spot, "... I'm sorry." It echoed and echoed until the man was gone.

"Cursed Speech?" Megumi said out loud, stunned. "Like Inumaki-senpai?"

Gojo had already removed his blindfold, studying closely how 838-Strange had just... disintegrated. He shook his head at Megumi's comment, "It's similar to Toge-kun's ability, but also very different. Both are extremely powerful in their own rights, but Toge-kun's Cursed Speech... it also relies on the ability to command. This guy?" He pointed a thumb at Black Bolt. "This guy's voice is just plain destruction no matter what he says, it seems."

"Yeah. Even making a sound or grunting looks dangerous," Geto scrutinized, his eyes squinting.

"Thankfully, Inumaki-senpai can still speak in sushi ingredients, at least," Yuuji realized.

That was when multiple alarms began blaring outside. Loudly.

"The building's been breached," Reed stated the obvious, making Strange roll his eyes. All this useless talk made them lose precious time.

Now? You were coming.

"No shit, genius," the former neurosurgeon replied snarkily.

"Uh-oh," Yuuji felt shivers creep up his spine. "Mom... she must be here already."

"Status report on sentries!" Peggy ordered. Before them, several holograms displayed security footage at multiple angles of you, in your other self's body, breaking into the secure headquarters—practically multitasking with how many Ultron bots you were fighting and destroying in all directions. Oil covered you from head to toe, looking an awful lot like blood at first sight. The fact that it was only oil splattered across your face and clothes didn't make you any less terrifying.

"Stop where you are! Stop where you—"

Crash!

The Ultron bot was smashed.

"That is... wow," Gojo blinked, blindfold permanently removed and hanging on his neck now. He was gonna enjoy the feeling of not having oversensitive eyes since he didn't have his powers in this... memory realm of yours. "That is absolutely fucking terrifying and giving me Carrie vibes."

"Uh-huh. She's got Dracula, The Grudge, The Possession, and Carrie crossed off her list," Toji snorted, muscular arms crossed against his built chest. "Up next is what, Final Destination? The Conjuring? Evil Dead? I bet ya five thousand yen it's one of those and that a whole buncha' people are gonna die."

"... I bet you fifteen thousand yen it's all of those." It was Nanami, surprisingly, who made the remark. Everyone stared at the blonde ex-salaryman in shock. A huge grin appeared on the Sorcerer Killer's lips.

"Heh," Toji smirked. "Deal."

Gambling was always one of his vices no matter how unlucky he was.

Again, the jujutsu sorcerers got a good look at how well you actually incorporated physical combat with your magic. Hell, you even destroyed multiple bots in one go. Their last sight of you on footage was you with your arm outstretched with psionics, staring warningly into the eyes of an Ultron bot before crushing its head—losing all contact and sight of you once it did. The fact that they were Ultron bots, of all people, made you even more bitter. You only had terrible memories associated with the name. Terrible, terrible memories.

Perhaps it was why you were so vicious in tearing them apart.

Which was, ironically, what Ultron himself said that you would do to the Avengers of Earth-616. Look who's talking now.

"She's heading for the child," Maria said.

"Watch him. We'll vote on our return," Carter declared, she and the others immediately running out of the council room to give you a greeting. Only Mordo and Xavier were left with an exasperated Strange. He knew the Illuminati would be no match for you. Not without the Book of Vishanti.

"Stephen, should you manage to escape this chamber, you must guide America Chavez," Xavier suddenly declared when his fellow councilmen left. Hearing this, Mordo beside him was stunned.

"What the hell are you saying?"

"Save the girl and get to the Book of Vishanti," Professor X spoke.

"What? You have the book here?" Strange clarified.

"Yes, you built a waypoint," Charles answered kindly.

"Charles, we cannot trust him!" he exclaimed.

"I believe we can," Xavier smiled. Strange appreciated it. "Just because someone stumbles and loses their way doesn't mean they're lost forever."

At his statement, Gojo took a glance at the three men who exactly embodied what Professor X was describing.

Fushiguro Toji.

Geto Suguru.

Kamo Choso.

... You.

They didn't know how all this madness of yours was going to end, but they knew that whatever happened, it had consequently rippled down into a domino effect of you saving their lives and saving their world from the Culling Game.

"We will see what kind of Dr. Strange you are," Charles smiled, making Stephen nod appreciatively.

"Thank you."

Now the jujutsu sorcerers were looking at America and 838-Christine. Countless alarms were blaring in their ears, with more Ultron bots racing towards your location as explosions shook the building.

"Perimeter breakdown. All sentries engage. Intruder approaching," the bots repeated.

"Everybody out! Now!" Christine ordered to her colleagues and workers.

"It's Wanda," America realized in terror. You weren't gonna stop until you got her, huh? Immediately, Christine ran over to manually override America's biochamber restrictions. However, you seemed to already sense this, using your psionic energy to disrupt the communication technologies in the entire building.

"Ultron commands you to halt! Ultron commands you to halt!"

In the distance, they saw an Ultron sentry running into the explosion, only for its head to roll down the floor right after. You emerged from between two pillars, pulverizing the head with your powers without even looking at it.

"Shit, that one was personal against Ultron himself," Gojo whistled.

"Wait, has Mom been... barefoot all this time?" Yuuji blinked as you calmly marched your way into where America was.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry! She's coming!" America cried out, utterly scared for her life as she slammed her hands on the bulletproof glass. Your face was emotionless—you were here for one thing only and nothing was going to stop you.

Even if these people tried to.

A woman landed in front of you with her jetpack and... vibranium shield? They saw your head tilt slightly in curiosity and slight familiarity. Instead of the typical white star on it, it was the Union Flag on it... and the woman wielding it... she was that woman on Cap's compass... Steve's first love. What was her name again? Ah, yes. Peggy. Peggy Carter.

After her was a man in a black suit and... was that a fork on his head? You didn't have a clue who he was but you were pretty sure he would be a hindrance to your plans.

The next one who flew down from the ground. She was very much like that woman you fought alongside with against Thanos, based on her uniform and powers. Captain Marvel. But... she looked familiar, too. Somehow. She resembled... what was her name? The last woman you spoke to in Westview and helped you... Geraldine. No, Monica. Your briefly wondered who exactly the Captain Marvel in front of you was before pushing the thought to the back of your head.

You didn't care. All you needed were your boys.

The last man was a man dressed in tight, blue and black suit and a number four emblem on his chest. He appeared to be the leader, based on how he was positioned in front of everyone—looking like he was about to negotiate with you. Impatiently, you kept glaring at all of them.

"Wanda, stop," Reed appealed, voice level—calming and nice. "You've possessed an innocent woman but you can still do the right thing. Let her go." He stepped forward slowly, a hand subtly raising up. Suddenly, you felt like a dog or a bull that was to be tamed by its owner. It annoyed you. "Please. I have children of my own. I can understand your pain," he pled, not wishing for a fight.

The jujutsu sorcerers observed you, who seemed to be in deep thought. Your face was blank, void of any emotion that signaled what you were about to do. Then, you spoke words that made the blood freeze in their veins. "Is their mother still alive?" you asked in a hushed, low volume.

"... Yes," Reed replied. He felt that he was finally getting you to reason. That you would stop this madness.

He was wrong.

"Good. There will be someone left to raise them," you added chillingly, the neutral expression on your face making you even scarier.

"... Oh, shit," Suguru cursed, hearing your statement. He briefly wondered if it was him in Reed's place, telling you about his own daughters, then you just brushing off his condolences like that.

Reed sighed, then turned to his teammate. "Wanda. Black Bolt can destroy you with one whisper from his mouth." Right as he said it, the Inhuman King opened his mouth—no sounds, just a warning.

You only stared at him, unfazed. "... What mouth?"

And just like that, it was gone.

Like his mouth had never existed in the first place, only plain skin replacing where it used to be. They didn't even blink once—there were no mind tricks here. His mouth had vanished at your will. They gasped.

"Mmmph!" Panicking, Black Bolt touched his face, trying to feel his mouth—the greatest weapon he's ever possessed. He screamed, only for it to be muffled within him and consequently, explode his brains inside out. His head grotesquely deflated. Blood dripped from his nostrils as he crashed to the floor.

The jujutsu sorcerers who had seen the entire ordeal were frozen to their feet, flabbergasted and frightened. They couldn't understand it. Their brains couldn't even comprehend it.

"Wha—" Gojo's mouth was agape. So were the others. "She just—"

"She... She..." Geto pinched himself. Was he dreaming? No? What?

"... The actual fuck?" Toji cussed in disbelief.

You just made someone's mouth disappear, on a whim, right before their very eyes. Even in the jujutsu world, no one—or not anyone they knew of—could just... do that unless it was an illusion.

This was real. This was your reality-warping in action once again.

Next was Reed, who tried to attack you. But you ripped Mister Fantastic into shreds, using his stretchy abilities against him and tearing him apart until his head ballooned and popped. You didn't even look affected as you killed two of this Earth's so-called mightiest heroes in less than ten seconds. Without breaking so much of a sweat.

"Y/N just turned him into string cheese!" Gojo exclaimed. "What the hell?!"

"... I now wonder if this is even her true potential," Nanami murmured. The other sorcerers looked at him in question.

"What do you mean?" Geto asked.

"Since she's only dreamwalking and she's not in her own body," Kento explained his thought process. "It would make sense if there's some sort of restriction on her. A limitation."

"You mean to say that she's not at her full power yet? After doing all that?" Toji's eyes widened.

"Maybe. Just maybe," Nanami replied, turning back to your fight against the female members of thr Illuminati. "It's just my thoughts."

Your eyes flared red as Captain Marvel and Captain Carter engaged you ina 2v1 battle. One was throwing energy blasts at you while the other was throwing a vibranium shield. Debris and concrete were flying everywhere as you tossed statues at your opponents. However, as a result, dust had flown up into the air around you, obstructing your vision. Peggy used this as a window to tackle you down.

But you had also been trained by two of your world's fighters. Black Widow and Captain America—with your late best friend slash sister being much more ruthless than the latter, practically handing over the training she got from the Red Room to you.

(Perhaps you could be an honorary Black Widow at this point. Hell, technically, you were already a widow after Viz died, weren't you?)

You were able to swiftly roll back from being tackled, glaring at Captain Carter.

"Haven't you had enough?" you grit out to the woman.

"Oh, I could do this all day," Peggy replied confidently, spitting out blood from her mouth. Her reply made you recall the blonde friend you once had. Wherever he was now.

But right now you couldn't care less about them. None of them mattered. Only Billy and Tommy. With that, the jujutsu sorcerers watched you imbue your magic and psionics in your hand-to-hand combat, reminding them of that time you fought Corvus Glaive and Proxima Midnight. Yet this time, you weren't on the defensive.

This time, you were very much on the offensive.

"... Damn," Toji nodded, impressed as he observed your movements as you threw Captain Carter across the room. You had astounding reflexes and agility. "That was pretty badass."

Whirr!

Captain Carter threw her vibranium shield to you. With your psionics, you easily caught it and prevented its impact, instead swinging it back to her with much more force than she did.

Whirr—

It sliced her cleanly in half, exactly where her midsection was. She could only let out one small gasp of shock, her upper body and lower body falling to the floor—blood and organs spilling out. The light in her eyes instantly dimmed, crimson gurgling from her dead mouth. Her bloody, stained shield implanted itself to the wall behind her. You? You only stared at the body, eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed—the only mixed reaction you've given to all the slaughter you caused.

For a moment, you thought about Steve. Just for a moment. It disappeared very quickly, the Darkhold's whispers of encouragement in your ear. You were very close to getting your children. Just a little more.

"... Holy shit," Gojo stared at the bifurcated cadaver in front of them, still so fresh. "She cut this lady in half with her own shield. Half! Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit."

"Fucking brutal," Toji muttered. "But I'm not one to judge." Sure, he's an assassin, but that was one real clean cut there and admittedly, one of the most savage methods to murder someone. Very... Final Destination.

"... I'd rather not stare at it," Nanami inwardly shuddered, turning to look at your thinking face, instead. He was already hiding a sick-looking Megumi behind him and a frightened Yuuji, too.

Your other enemy, Captain Marvel, emerged from the wall you'd tossed her in, blasting extremely concentrated energy at you. For a moment, they saw you in your original body, hair flying around and your face scrunched up in concentration as you released even more of your power in your alternate self's body. As a result, you began sucking in Captain Marvel's energy blast and her power, too, her uniform breaking and fading away.

"Raaaagh!" you yelled as you overpowered her, blowing her away to a large statue. You quickly used your psionics to wrap around the statue, pulling it down until it crashed onto Captain Marvel, appearing to kill her. You'd taken a lot of her power, after all. Maybe you'd rendered her useless, just like a normal human. Again, you didn't care. Not your priority.

"She's just slaughtering everyone who comes in her way," Choso spoke out, more and more shocked at getting to know the seemingly sweet woman he's known.

Meanwhile, Strange was purposefully riling up 838-Mordo, cunningly using the latter's anger to fight and get out of his restraints. (Honestly, it reminded them of how Gojo would piss enemies off, too. What was it with smartass genius sorcerers and their overly huge ego?)

Finally, you had arrived right behind where America was contained. She had punched a small hole into it, amazing Christine, but it wasn't enough to set her free. They gazed at you—barefoot, limping, bruised, bloodied, and covered in oil—in horror for what you were about to do next.

"Enough!" a voice called out.

You snarled, your hand glowing red once more at the person who dared interrupt your goals again. It was a bald man in a wheelchair. He raised his right hand to his temple and his left hand towards you.

Suddenly, it transported all of them—including the jujutsu sorcerers—into the mind of 838-Wanda. 838-You. They winced, seeing glimpses of you, the original one. You were screaming in pain, for the first time since Agatha, getting your mind forcefully invaded and broken in. It was shaking the dreamwalking connection, making you feel nauseous. Like a huge migraine or headache pummeling your head.

"Aaaaagh!" you wailed, eyes still shut.

"Mom! She's—" Yuuji gulped, looking at you in concern. The others had the same look, too. "She's in pain." Despite what he'd just seen you do, seeing your pained, crying face still hurt him. A lot. It always would.

Then, your original self vanished from view. And they found themselves in... somewhere. It was all white everywhere, except for a broken concrete structure and a single, standing door in the middle. It was completely silent, except for Charles's footsteps. The door creaked open. He entered it, the jujutsu sorcerers following curiously behind him. In front of them were a bunch of fallen debris, with some random knick-knacks here and there. On the bottom center was a pitch black hole.

"... Is that WandaVision playing on that TV over there?" Nanami asked, pointing.

"Oh. You're right. It is WandaVision," Gojo answered in wonder. "That 1950s-themed one in black and white, yeah? Where she was in a wedding dress?"

"Uh-huh," Megumi said, frowning. "I don't like this place. Really damn creepy."

"Creepier than any of your missions?" Geto asked.

"Yup."

Right as he answered, a hand shot out from the pitch black hole, making all of them flinch along with Charles.

"Shit. Thought it was going to be the Grudge Mirror Dimension all over again," Geto placed a hand over his beating heart.

"This is not good for my blood pressure," Toji scowled, cracking his neck.

"... Never knew you were such an old man," Gojo snickered, only for the black-haired middle-aged man to give him the finger in response.

"Help me. Please," 838-You whispered, trying to reach her hand out more from where she was stuck.

"Wanda Maximoff. Your mind is being held hostage by your alternate self," Professor X explained. At that moment, the debris over her began to teeter over, trapping 838-Wanda even further below.

"Uh-oh... again..." Yuuji said, concerned as sirens began ringing in the background.

"Grab my hand!" Charles ordered. "Perhaps, if I can pull you from under the rubble, the spell will break!" Panting, your other self was able to slightly squeeze her head out, but only until her shoulders. The rest of her body was still trapped.

"Hey... look," Megumi pointed behind them with wide eyes. They all pivoted backwards, seeing an ill-boding, crimson fog approaching them. Professor X froze. The blaring sirens turned into hushed, feminine whispers in Sokovian, chanting, echoing in their ears.

They saw a flash of your original body back in the Darkhold Castle, cold sweat on your forehead, with you looking... less lively than before while you regained control over your other self's mind.

838-You was terrifyingly pulled back into the darkness, like she was being dragged down to the pits of hell once more.

Scream!

Then, they all flinched as a pair of elongated, sharp talons with blackened tips wrapped around Charles's entire face. A monster with cracked, chalky skin, bloody red eyes and decayed, pointed teeth throughly ripped it open in two different directions.

Back in the research facility, Professor X's actual body slumped down lifelessly, blood dripping from his eyes. Your eyes dimmed down into their normal color as you stared coldly at the man's corpse. However, you then saw that Chavez and 838-Christine were gone. As they reunited with Dr. Strange, the jujutsu sorcerers stared at one another. Sukuna was the only one chuckling in amusement.

"Heh. This oughta be the best thing I've ever seen," the mouth on Yuuji's face grinned wide. "Heh!" It was confirmed in his head now. Ryomen Sukuna, King of Curses, saw you as his partner. His equal.

"... That... monster... was Mom, wasn't she?" Yuuji quietly asked, spooked as his eyes darted around skittishly.

"Yeah," Nanami answered somberly. This time, you did look like an actual cursed spirit—eyes, skin, teeth and claws. It only happened for what, five seconds? But the appalling image was imprinted in their heads.

"She snapped his neck?" Megumi clarified. His father shook his head, eyes narrowed.

"No. It looked like she did, but she didn't." He glanced at Megumi. "She ripped it open with her bare hands."

"Damn," Choso muttered.

Funnily enough, they were only speed-walking behind America, Stephen, and Christine as they searched for the waypoint to the Book of Vishanti. But when you—looking like a zombie—forcefully opened the metal doors that the trio had closed, angry red eyes staring into them, something inside them told them to run, too, even if this was the past.

It was a 6D experience, after all.

So when you blasted the storage room with your powers and a stray computer screen knocked Gojo over the head, they were shocked. They were lucky enough to not be harmed during the Battle of Kamar-Taj, but that was proof that anything happening here—in spite of it being in the past—could physically affect them.

"Oh shit! Satoru!" Geto cussed, dragging his best friend out of the way.

"What—" Gojo was shocked. Yes, he didn't have his powers, but he was affected.

"Sensei! Did it actually hit you!?" Yuuji exclaimed.

"Y-Yeah, holy crap..." Gojo blinked, rubbing his head as he processed what was happening. "Ow? That hurt. A lot." A rapidly-forming bruise on his skin was evidence that he had been hit.

"Then I think we should all run, too! Now!" Nanami shouted—for once, raising his voice in alarm as they stared at your terrifying form in the doorway. Right as he said that, Strange was warning America and Christine.

"Go! Go, go, go, go!" Stephen urgently yelled. The jujutsu sorcerers followed after them, running as fast as they could from you—even overtaking Chavez, Strange, and Christine.

When they looked behind their shoulders, you were there—bloodied, limping on one leg, stepping on broken glass shards and debris with no shoes, blasting away doors and blockages.

"I feel like I'm in a horror movie!" Yuuji cried out as he ran. "You know, being chased by a crazy killer in a stinky tunnel! I love Mom but crap, I really wanna pee right now!"

"Me too! Holy shit!" Gojo yelled. "I've seen too many fucking jumpscares today from Y/N!"

Christine was able to close a door before you could pass, though. They staggered to a stop, hearing only the drops of water from the river above them.

Drop. Drop. Drop.

"Why the fuck did we stop?" Toji whispered harshly. "Shouldn't we continue running?"

"Same thoughts," Geto muttered, listening intently for any sign of you.

"She's here. Somewhere. Probably gonna pop out of nowhere," Gojo said with a nervous frown. "So just keep your eyes peeled. She won't lose America so easily."

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

"Where did she go?" America whispered, scared.

Snarl!

You came out out of the shadows, the dim, flickering lights of the tunnel blinking over your red eyes.

"I swear, for a fucking moment, I saw that monster in her face," Gojo rubbed his eyes. "Not kidding. She looked a hella lot like Valak just now."

"... I saw it, too," Megumi swallowed quietly. "Her face... it was all cracked and decayed... and her teeth..."

"It was pointy. All of them," Choso murmured, watching you approach America.

"... So her appearance right now, it might be an illusion, too," Nanami deduced, moving back slowly with the others. "Her face might not be... well, as nice as we know it to be."

"The Darkhold's taken Y/N's pretty face, too? Well, shit," Geto snorted. However, when they looked at you now, it looks like you'd "fixed" your face to be normal again. "Thank God she destroyed the last one last time."

No wonder you were so good at fooling them you were an old woman when they first knew you. You could fix up your face, body, and surroundings any way you wanted.

"I warned you," you told Strange lowly.

"Other Wanda, if you're in there," Strange's hands lit up orange. "Hold your breath." He then proceeded to make river waters crash down on you, giving them time to run to the waypoint.

Fortunately, 616-Strange was able to open it. And it took them back to where Supreme Strange and America were first running from the Ribboned Creature. In the center was the shining Book of Vishanti. They all jumped down into the Gap Junction, the Space Between Universes.

"Really shiny up close, isn't it?" Gojo whispered in awe.

"Yeah," Geto and the others exhaled.

"Give me what I need," Strange murmured, taking the Book of Vishanti carefully from its seat.

"I think we're forgetting something," Yuuji scratched his head.

Their eyes widened. "They didn't close the damn door!" Nanami yelled and turned around, only for America to be literally dragged by the hair with red magic.

"It wouldn't have made much of a difference!" Gojo argued, eyes wide. "She can blast it open anyway!"

You were extremely pissed from being drenched in river water. This had to end now.

Christine cried out, running to America, only for Strange to stop her and protectively place a hand in front of her. Strange fired a blast of Eldritch magic at you, only for you to absorb it with your free hand and deflect it back to him and Christine, sweeping them off their feets. Tragically, the backlash also hit the Book of Vishanti, burning it to ash.

"Shit!" the jujutsu sorcerers cussed, ducking to avoid the violent blast.

You lifted America's struggling form from the ground with one hand, annoyed. Instantly, you took over her mind—as evidenced by her eyes glowing blue and her going limp. You manipulated it to open a random dimension in the Multiverse, using your magic to restrict Christine and Strange then toss them into the portal.

Wasting no time, you once more controlled America's mind to open a portal to your original universe. And there it was. Your own body, sitting cross-legged in the air, surrounded by sanguine wisps allowing you to dreamwalk. With a dark smile on your face—now that you were finally getting what you wanted—you tossed America into the portal. Then, in your original body, you opened your eyes—ceasing the dreamwalking spell.

As the portal slowly closed, the jujutsu sorcerers ran to the other side where original you was. And their last vision was 838-Wanda falling to her knees tiredly, finally in control of her own body, no matter how battered you caused it to be.

"My boys..." 838-You mumbled worriedly, levitating back to the entrance of the waypoint to the Gap Junction.

Behind the terrified America, the anxious jujutsu sorcerers watched as you wordlessly stared at the girl as you stepped closer, like you were wondering what to do next.

"... She looks different," Megumi pointed out, squinting. "The same, but really different?"

"Mom looks... sick," Yuuji frowned. He's frowned probably more than a hundred times today, seeing how your life played out.

"Yeah. It's the crazy look in her eyes," Gojo answered quietly, noticing the darkened bags around your eyes and that your skin tone had become ashier—like the Darkhold was physically (and mentally) making you ill. Your hair was wilder, messier.

You truly did look insane. Even the way you were staring at America, like she was some sort of prey; it wasn't like the normal you.

"The isn't what your children would want!" America weakly told you, only for you to ruthlessly throw her onto the sacrificial altar of the Darkhold Castle and pin her down. You circled her like a predator, the jujutsu sorcerers watching uneasily. You stopped right behind America's head, your blackened fingers mindlessly stroking the cool stone of the altar. You gave America an emotionless smile.

"They'll never know," you replied offhandedly, sending chills down their spines.

"Maybe not," America shot back. "But you will."

For a few seconds, you appeared to contemplate your whole decision. Like a glimpse of your kinder, uncorrupted self had shone through. Then, the scene rapidly changed to Strange and Christine, who had become stuck in a bleak universe where an Incursion had happened. They met... other, other Strange... who seemed a lot more sinister than all the other Strange variants they'd met. He had a longer beard, and his skin—ashy and pale, almost lifeless, like yours. This... Sinister Strange possessed a Darkhold.

"Careful. The Darkhold exacts a heavy toll," Sinister Strange declared, refusing to give 616-Strange the Book of the Damned. His words resonated through the jujutsu sorcerers, remembering how much you had changed. "Not just on its reality, but on its reader."

Eventually, the whole conversation took a dark turn, with a third eye ominously appearing on Sinister Strange's forehead.

"Ew. Reminds me of that damned Prison Realm," Gojo cringed as the two Stephens broke out into a fight made out of musical notes. It ended with Sinister Strange falling off the Sanctum, dying when he fell through the pointed entrance gates.

Then, they were momentarily back at the Darkhold Castle, seeing Wong suprisingly alive and trying to climb up. On the other hand, you had spread your arms to the side, beginning to siphon America's powers from her body. She screamed in agony as your hands and the sacrificial altar below her glowed crimson.

Strange, now holding the Darkhold, was attempting to execute the dreamwalking spell with the help of Christine.

"While I'm under, I need you to protect my body in case they attack me for trespassing," Stephen disclosed.

"Who's they?" Christine and the jujutsu sorcerers chorused.

"The souls of the damned." With that, Stephen summoned multiple candles from around the Sanctum, beginning to dreamwalk.

"Okay...? But doesn't a version of you have to live in that universe so that you can dreamwalk into them?" 838-Christine asked, confused.

Stephen peeked an eye open, "Who said they had to be living?"

That was when the jujutsu sorcerers found themselves where Supreme Strange was buried. Thunder rumbled from around them. His hand shot out as he rose from the ground, bones cracking as he opened a portal to Mount Wundagore. This time, it was Geto who was severely disturbed.

"I don't... like this," he muttered, looking away instead as he briefly recalled what Kenjaku had done to him. Up to this day, he still felt violated. Possessing a dead man's body? Yeah. He didn't have the greatest experience with that.

And the jujutsu sorcerers were back in Mount Wundagore, shivering in the icy cold. However, from Supreme Strange's corpse emerged dark, skeleton-like spirits.

"Stephen Strange!" they snarled, attacking him. "Possessing a dead body is forbidden!"

"Forbidden!"

"Trespasser! Trespasser! Trespasser!"

"Cease your dreamwalk, or face the eternal consequences!"

Weirdly enough, three of the spirits turned to them, making the hairs on their skins rise. The three approached them, hissing. "Trespassers! Trespassers!"

"Into the wretched memories of the Scarlet Witch!"

"How shameful!"

"How deplorable!"

"Sinners, sinners, sinners! All of you, who destroy the cursed!"

They were stunned. No beings in your memories had ever interacted with them. Yes, they experienced everything with their senses, but this? This was new. And were they... talking about cursed spirits? Were the souls of the damned cursed spirits, too? Vengeful ones?

Thankfully, before the souls of the damned could do any harm, Stephen was able to overpower them with Christine's help, using them as makeshift wings. They were all transported to the Darkhold Castle. Your head snapped towards Strange, stopping the ritual to get America's power.

"Dreamwalking, you hypocrite!" you screamed. Scornfully, you threw a blast of Chaos Magic at him, only for the souls of the damned to eat it up like dinner. You threw another blast at him, but he dodged it, directing the souls to you. They swarmed at you like bees, chanting and cackling. And for once, it was you who was frightened and wide-eyed, caught like a deer in headlights.

"Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!"

"Those things are scary," Yuuji winced, seeing as Wong restricted you in another magical ball along with the souls of the damned. "Kinda feel sorry for Mom."

Strange set America free, encouraging her that there was only one way to defeat you. At that same moment, you released a powerful blast of energy, escaping the souls and the magic restriction you were in. You paced towards Strange, throwing a ball of Chaos Magic at him, which dissolved his dead body like acid.

Well, at least until a roaring America Chavez landed a solid punch at you, creating shockwaves all over Mount Wundagore.

"Damn, that kid packs a punch," Gojo and the others were impressed.

"I'm even more shocked Y/N's still standing after that," Toji added. "Her durability's out of this world."

America stared at her fist in shock, then looked up at you confidently, "Uh-huh."

You were cradling your jaw, mania in your eyes as you madly smiled back, panting, "Mmmhmm—agh!"

America landed three more punches and a kick to your stomach, opening a portal that nearly made you fall into the boiling, lava-filled pits of Hel. Yes, Hel.

"I'm amazed by how durable she is but now Y/N really looks like she escaped from a mental asylum," Geto commented, arms crossed. "She looks insane! And not in a good way!"

"... Huh. It looks like Vecna's lair behind her," Yuuji pointed to the portal, shrugging. "Just saying."

Balancing yourself once more, you slowly—terrifyingly—turned back to America, a murderous glare in your eyes as you stopped being the punching bag. If looks could kill, America would've been dead long ago. You overpowered the girl, blocking her punch with your magic. The portal to Hel closed.

"I can't beat you," America realized, then closing her hand into a fist. "So I'll give you what you want." With that, she landed another strong punch at you, opening a portal. The jujutsu sorcerers watched, aghast as you lifted America by the neck with one hand, strangling her.

Just like what Agatha did to your Billy and Tommy.

Just like what Thanos did to Vision.

Unbeknowst to you, you had become the very thing you hated. The very person you despised.

The jujutsu sorcerers, on the other hand, witnessed your downfall. All of it.

"What was the saying?" Gojo murmured, remembering how you faded into dust during The Snap. "You either die a hero..."

"... Or live long enough to become the villain," Geto finished, looking at his surroundings. At the same time, you realized where you were. And you saw your boys, sitting on the couch, watching TV and eating popcorn peacefully.

"Billy... Tommy..." you breathed, only for them to scream in fear at the sight of you.

"Mommy! It's the witch!" the twins screamed, dropping their bowl of popcorn and running over the sofa.

"What. Have. You. Done," you hissed to America, tightening your hold on her neck as your hair flew wildly around your head.

"Damn, Y/N, this isn't you," Gojo muttered, shaking his head.

"Mom!" the twins shouted as your other self came running down the stairs, all washed up and changed into new clothes, but still scratched and bruised. She moved in front of the twins protectively, one hand glowing red, but it was clear she hadn't mastered her powers and didn't use them very much, judging by the terror and apprehension painted on her face. Her powers were primitive in comparison to yours.

"Wait! Boys!" you cried out desperately.

"It's okay, it's okay," 838-You assured them.

"I'M YOUR MOTHER!" you asserted viciously, chucking the couch to the wall. "Get away from them!" You then proceeded to fling your other self to the corner, making the jujutsu sorcerers wince at your cruelty. Other you screamed as she was thrown into a cabinet of books. She fell roughly to the floor.

"... That's how delusional she's become from the Darkhold?" Choso blinked, feeling pity for your variant. She's been through much over the past day.

Seeing what you did to their mom, 838-Billy and 838-Tommy ran down the stairs, hurling toys and multiple items at you. "Mommy! Get away from our mom!"

You blocked their throws with your arms, trying to appease and calm them with a gentler tone, "Hey—boys—stop!"

"You're not our real mom!"

"Please—please—"

"Get out of our house!"

"Wait, boys, stop it—"

"You're not our mom! Get out! Go away!"

It was when they threw a whole scooter at you that your patience snapped.

"STOP IT!" you screeched in a shrill, earsplitting volume, eyes hysterical. They all flinched in fear. Even the jujutsu sorcerers grew silent. They'd never seen you scream like that before.

Afraid, the twins retreated to the opposite side of the staircase. Slowly, with a joyful smile, you approached them, reaching out to touch their faces with your very hands after so, so long.

"Please don't hurt us," Tommy begged.

"Please," Billy sniffled, scared for himself and his brother.

Their words made you freeze in your spot. "... I would never hurt you," you assured them in a whisper, shaking your head. "Never." A single tear dropped to your cheek. "I would never hurt anyone. I'm not a monster."

Slowly, their young, terrified eyes peeked behind you, looking at their beaten, whimpering mother. Their eyes turned back to you, telling you it was a lie.

It was all a lie.

And everything came crashing down to you in realization, their gazes harsh as you slowly detached yourself from the influence of the Darkhold.

Murderer. That was what the souls of the damned labeled you as.

Monster. That was what these children saw you as.

And they were right.

"I'm—" you stammered, stepping back from Billy and Tommy. The jujutsu sorcerers watched as your pale, chapped lips began to tremble, more tears falling down your cheeks.

Oh, God. What have you done?

"... I-I'm sorry," you barely choked out, shaking as you placed a hand over your mouth. Other you tried to get up, only for her to stumble down helplessly. She was too injured and exhausted.

"Mom!" Billy and Tommy ran to her. Not you. "Are you okay!?"

"Hi! Hi!" she breathed out, touching their faces. "I'm okay. I'm okay."

Those were the exact same words you told your Billy and Tommy when they were running to you when you closed the hole in Westview during the fight against Agatha. To save them. And their father.

Seeing this, you sobbed, a hand over your stomach. Empty. Void of your children. Your twins. Your babies. To everyone else, it wasn't real. But to you? It was real. It was real to you.

The jujutsu sorcerers watched as you fell to your knees, crying at the familiar yet different sight.

"How long has it been since WandaVision?" Geto asked the others, crestfallen seeing you.

"A few months, perhaps? Maybe a year?" Nanami answered mournfully.

"You think... you think that maybe, Y/N had postpartum depression?" Suguru murmured.

"... Yeah. Likely," Toji replied, gazing at your kneeling form, clutching your stomach.

"Then she's no different to all the mothers in Japan who've lost a child," Nanami said. "And out of grief, brought to life cursed spirits." It wasn't uncommon. They'd exorcised many cursed spirits like that. Miscarriages, stillbirths... a mother's pain and suffering was unlike any other.

"... What is grief, if not love persevering?" Choso repeated to himself the words your late husband said to you.

"Unfortunately, love is the most twisted curse of them all, neh, Gojo-sensei?" Yuuji wiped his tears, sniffing at seeing you cry.

Gojo was quiet for a few moments, "... Yeah. It is."

All this madness and chaos, born out of your love. You had so much of it to share and spare, yet received none because all your loved ones were gone. The Scarlet Witch, born and forged, was just like a cursed spirit.

And your curse? It was love.

Your alternate self stood up, cautiously approaching you. The twins tried to stop her, but she assured them it was fine. You couldn't find it in yourself to look at her out of guilt and shame. You'd wrecked her world, her home, and her own body. It was unforgivable.

Then, she reached out to you, touching your cheek. Who else was there to comfort you... but you?

"It's okay," the jujutsu sorcerers heard from around them. It was your voice—no, it was your variant speaking to you. Telepathically. "I've had nightmares... over past few weeks... but they're not nightmares, are they?"

You slowly opened your teary eyes to look at your other self, so same, yet so different.

"They were your life. What you'd lived. What you've gone through," she told you mentally. Mirthlessly. "And while I was having those nightmares, you were having dreams. Dreams of my life. What I've lived. And all the happiness that was unfairly stolen from you. While you were possessing me, I also saw what you've seen from our other alternate selves. Their happy lives, too. I can't imagine how much pain you're in, being the only one who's gone through so much. The only one who's been deprived of a loving life."

You were silent, staring at her sadly.

"I'm sorry. For everything you've had to endure alone—" she murmured in your mind, her warm hand calming you. "Mother. Father. Pietro. Vision. Billy. Tommy."

You pursed your lips, tears welling in your eyes once more.

"I forgive you," she whispered. You stared at her—so good and kind. Capable of forgiveness. What you once were before you became... this. Then, finally, she spoke out loud as she removed her hand from your cheek. "Know that they'll be loved," she announced, reading your mind. Your only question to her. Your only wish—telling her to take care of them.

From the sidelines, listening and watching, some of them had silent tears fall down their faces. It was a painful goodbye, just like the one you had with Vision and your children. This time, you had to let go. Again. America closed the portal, bringing you back to the Darkhold Castle. You cried, knowing what you had to do next. You levitated towarda the sacrificial altar, kneeling down, hands glowing a misty, reddish-black. This time, you would be the sacrifice. Then, they saw in your face, the same exact expression you had when Thanos snapped his fingers.

Staring up at the sky hopelessly, waiting for death to come and take you once and for more. But as much as you wanted to, your Chaos Magic wouldn't allow you to die.

Not when you were the Scarlet Witch.

The Darkhold Castle began shaking. You allowed America and Wong to return to Kamar-Taj, leaving you alone with Stephen, who was still dreamwalking in his other self's corpse. They saw you slowly turn to him, repentant. This time, it was sincere, unlike that time in the apple orchard.

"I opened the Darkhold," you whispered regretfully. "I have to close it. No one will ever be tempted by the Darkhold again."

Strange slowly nodded at you. And inwardly, he was right about you. He knew that deep inside, you were a good person. Just hurt and lonely. He knew that as always, you would set things right in the end. And he never doubted that. Just because one has stumbled and lost his way doesn't mean that they're lost forever. Professor X told him that. And it looks like you were able to read his mind.

With your powers, you made the Darkhold fall, taking it down with you in it. Before they could be hit, the jujutsu sorcerers were suddenly teleported afar to a cliff overlooking the crumbling castle, their last sight of you being a blast of red.

"Mom—" Yuuji whispered worriedly. Suddenly, they were with 838-Christine and Strange. The former neurosurgeon woke the unconscious woman up.

"... Is it over?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Is America okay?"

"She's on her way to get us."

Christine swallowed, "... Wanda?"

The jujutsu sorcerers' ears perked up. Strange, sadly, shook his head. "No." At that moment, though, the Darkhold beside them burned into ash from red flames.

"So she destroyed the Darkhold in every universe," Strange realized.

"She did the right thing," Christine smiled.

"Yes. She did." Strange smiled back.

The consequent scenes they were seeing now all seemed glitchy, but then they saw you—in another universe—destroy the knowledge and contents of the Darkhold. You absorbed the entity chained in the main Darkhold: Chthon, the primordial god of chaos. Somewhat like Cthulhu. A Lovecraftian beast.

"You do not possess me, Chthon," they heard your voice declare as you absorbed the god. "I possess you."

None of them knew that something was chained and sealed within you—something that that ancient and dangerous. It was almost ironic: like mother, like son. Chthon was sealed within you while Sukuna was stuck inside Yuuji.

Then they saw snippets of you with Agatha... then Loki... and other individuals. The glitchy flashbacks with you ended when a hole appeared in the now-empty space they were in... and a feminine hand dragged them out one by one.

Thankfully, it didn't have talons or crooked fingers. They knew it was you who'd come to save them.

The sorcerers were back in their world; in your living room, specifically. You—the present you they knew as Y/N L/N—were staring at them with an unreadable expression. Were you angry? Were you pissed? Were you sad?

"... I'm not angry," you told them all quietly, reading their thoughts and everything they'd seen. "You've seen it all. What I've done." You chewed your lips, suddenly averting your gaze. "But what matters is that you're all okay and in one piece. Whatever... spell Agatha put in that flash drive had gone bonkers and dragged you all into it." They were silent as they stared at you, still processing those last few scenes of you they were able to see. "I'm sorry—"

Ding dong!

Your doorbell rang. Sighing, you walked away from the jujutsu sorcerers and opened the doors (thankfully, you'd magicked up the heater and everything else in the house before dragging the boys out of the television screen). You blinked at the person at the door, wrapped in lots of thick layers but still shivering from the blizzard outside. Did he... travel all the way from the grocery shop to here?

"You... uh... d-dropped y-y-your keys," Higuruma stammered from how freezing it was outside. He handed you your keys. Wide-eyed, you immediately let him in, worried about how long he's been in the cold.

That was when he saw the guys in your living room, all scrutinizing him and wondering who he was and how he knew you.

"Who the hell are you?" It was Sukuna who spoke... as a mouth... on Yuuji's cheek. He wasn't supposed to hear or see anything since he wasn't a sorcerer, but the jujutsu sorcerers were only shocked when he tilted his head at Yuuji in question.

"Attorney Higuruma Hiromi," he introduced himself, unintimidated by all these men glaring at him. He's had worse, facing criminals and all. And right, he also sees those weird spirit thingies. He always has since he was a kid. In the corner, you sighed, leading Higuruma to the kitchen to offer him something warm to drink. You popped your head back into the living room, eyes boring into the speechless jujutsu sorcerers.

"I'll talk to you boys later."

At least they were back home again...?

(to be continued)

Author's Note: Hi, everyone! It's been a while! Sorry for being gone for so long and being inactive, even in answering my asks. Thank you also for your patience. After my very draining and somewhat hectic slash traumatic semester last June, my body basically took a break. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. All I did was rest, do nothing, and catch up on sleep for a month or so. I also went home to visit my dad, spending time with my family and looking for other ways to earn extra income from other gigs because I need to save up on allowance. Then... after that and currently, I'm working on my thesis because dang, I'm halfway through college now! Wow! Still, I tried my best to really write the entire DSMOM2 accurately inbetween my short breaks—so that was almost 2 hours of dialogue plus brainstorming for the JJK men's reactions. I hope you understand! And thank you all so much for your overwhelming support! I can't promise when the next updates will be, because time flies so fast and I'll have to move away from home, into a dorm, in less than a month since my 3rd year of uni begins again. It's hella stressful, but I'm 2 years away from graduating as a speech-language therapist! 🙏🥰

[TL ; DR: Got burnt out from school, took a vacation and mental health break + social media detox, gonna become a junior college student soon, could really use some extra money from writing these fics. I love writing and it's emotionally fulfilling, but physically and time-wise, really exhausting. 😅]

If you can and wish to, please support me on my Ko-Fi here! Thank you so much to whoever would like to help me out more even if writing is just my hobby! I'd appreciate it a lot. ☕️

Reblogs, comments, hearts, constructive criticism, and any kind of interaction are much welcome! Thank you for 1100+ notes on this fic. I've never imagined it would get so far. I'm hoping to publish it on AO3 if I find time. Also, I would love to hear your thoughts about this chapter and even just the DSMOM2 film! See you next time! And please don't spam my inbox about when the next chapter will come out. You can ask, but a reminder to please ask nicely and don't be demanding! 🤨‼️

(For the taglist, I'll try to keep up with all the requests to be added but I've kinda lost track, hehe. Just comment in this chapter if I forgot to add you or you would want to be added or if you've updated your name/URL. 💗)

taglist: @vampireindistress @sparklingmallow @gummy-dummy @haleypearce @artemishunter18 @torasshu-sama @thewordfae @nanamin-pointo @whoreuc @simpinsimpleton @sache41 @osiris1rhi @crzyinluve @dame-sunflowers @thirstyfangirl @yuh-tears @vespertio @butyfigers @fiona782 @t-misaki @jihaegguk @revenge-of-the-bucket-demon @beeframon @simpforporcoandlevi @unkn0wn2024 @dibhachu @todaywasafairytale07 @vishousmate @tangoogle @lyralibra @fleurwritesitsblossom @deviljoonie @pearlstiare @moss-murin @surhii @senjuasuna @njisano @marbleii @sheitsme @kiyosato @moonchild-artemisdaughter @shadowyknightbeargoth @yuki-chan23 @akuri-shinsou @tellatoast @nako-ley @depresso-404error @siriusblackrunmeover17 @lovely-maryj

@tojidilfs @ikisstoga @sleepydang @fall-myriad @friedtyrantthing @bl6o6dy @fandomfangirl006 @lovely-maryj @marycarabell @bealiz13 @lowilaufeyson @eva-616

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami kento #gojo satoru #fushiguro toji #ryomen sukuna #geto suguru #kamo choso #higuruma hiromi #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #toji x reader #sukuna x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader #higuruma x reader #scarlet witch #x reader #thera.writes

[dokoni-mo]

Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Chapter 3)

(A/N: hello all yet again! welcome back to my little series here on this little cite!! :) I am so glad that y’all have been enjoying my series thus far. I have had a blast writing it and seeing y’all’s reactions to it. As always, please feel free to ask to be on the taglist for this, or just ask questions about the series in general! I love talking with yall :))) links for the previous chapters have been provided below. This is where the series is really gonna start picking up, so stay tuned!!! also, do I see the smut chapter on the horizon? I believe I do...) 

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Four: [x]

WARNINGS: slight angst, a bit of crying, mentions of death (nothing too serious), cursing, otherwise none!! 

Key: (F/N) = first name, (L/N) = last name 

Word Count: ~4600

Peace and tranquility were two old friends that had not visited in a long time. Yet, they finally came for one today. 

After cleaning yourself off that morning and hastily getting yourself ready, you had made your way over to the site of our new workstation: Lord Vader’s personal hangar, primarily used for entering and exiting the Super Star Destroyer on his TIE. 

The walk to your new station was everything but pleasant. Everyone had seemed to know exactly what you were up to. This is partially due to the fact that you were now the talk-of-the-town amongst your peers. Some new-face baby coming here and getting one of the highest positions imaginable so damn quickly? Unheard of. Getting picked out personally by the Dark Lord himself? Impossible. Unimaginable. How could someone like (L/N) manage to pull off the impossible? 

This was also partially due to the direction you were headed. Anyone walking this direction was always eyed by those around them, if they didn’t happen to look exactly like some odd mouse droid. Lord Vader’s hangar was located dangerously close to his personal quarters. Everyone knew that it was the number one unwritten rule of working on this empirical vessel: Do NOT enter Lord Vader’s personal quarters under any circumstance. Unless you wanted to be dead within a matter of mere seconds, do NOT enter that room. Everyone had heard the stories of those who had tried. A stormtrooper who came out with his neck snapped, a woman who was impaled with his lightsaber, each one more terrifying than the last. So, as your polished, black boots clacked right in that direction, it was only natural that you got some stares and silent prayers for your safety. 

You thanked them silently and unconsciously, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

Following the directions that the old officer gave you, you eventually made your ways over to the new doors of the new hangar. The doors were almost exactly like him. Tall, dark, cold, unforgiving, to name a few characteristics. As you stood before them, you felt an odd feeling of nervousness in the bottom of your diaphragm, your fingers trembling all so slightly. 

If I ever piss him off, you thought to yourself, there is no one around to hear me scream.

But who would care? 

Who would dare challenge the Dark Lord himself? 

No one. No one at all. So, don’t screw this up, (F/N). 

Without turning your head, you let your eyes fall to the keypad adjacent to the door, it's buttons emanating a soft glow. Reaching out a hand, you punched in the digits that the old man gave you to allow you access into the hangar. You were surprised that the code actually worked, despite you knowing that it would. In the back of your head, you had still thought that maybe that old officer was somehow toying with you. That door opening was confirmation that this was no sick joke. 

Stepping into that hangar almost felt like stepping right into the jaws of some beast. The hangar looked almost exactly like your last one, only smaller. However, you instantly noticed that it was much quieter than the one you had started with. Much emptier, too. The only thing within the whole hangar was one workbench full of tools, a few crates of unknown contents, one mechanic who’s heartbeat was thumping a mile a minute, and one destroyed TIE Advanced x1. 

Despite the atmosphere of unease, you smiled brightly at your surroundings.

It was so quiet. Tranquil, even. 

You were so happy to finally be able to work in peace.

As your first action as Darth Vader’s personal mechanic, you quickly ripped off your uniform jacket and threw it on the ground, giving it a kick and a stomp. You hated that thing. And, Lord Vader never seemed to mind you breaking your dress code. So, you decided that your new uniform was your pants, boots, goggles, and tank top.

Eat shit, Empire. 

Your second action was to immediately get to work.

~~~

The silence was much more deafening than you had originally thought. 

Yes, it was nice not having to listen to the annoying chatter of the other workers in your prior hangar, but this was something else. The silence had let you slip into your own thoughts far too often, much the opposite to your liking. Thinking let your mind wander, and you had a tendency to think about impossible scenarios. Going back home, seeing your family again, finding a new job, to name a few. 

The diagnostic had returned nothing of great importance, thank the stars. Just some alerts of wires being fried. Nothing that you couldn’t handle.

Right now, sweat was leaving a heavy sheen on your forehead, and your arms and legs were screaming for some sort of rest. You were currently trying to make some progress to the destroyed wing of the craft, a way to take a break from trying to turn the damn computer back online. And, this wing was giving you no sort of break. Of course it wouldn’t, (F/N). Nothing is ever easy anymore.

You currently had the biggest wrench you had on your workbench wrapped tightly in your grasp, to the point where it made your knuckles white and your palms burn. Your nose and eyes were scrunched, your teeth bore for all to see as you tensed your shoulders and pulled the tool towards you with all your might. You needed this bolt off for you to gain access to the ligaments of the wing that held it onto the TIE. You had tried everything else to get it off (burning it off, freezing it off, and even praying to your maker while giving the ship a swift kick in the ass), but nothing had seemed to work. You were only left with one last tactic: hoping your brute strength was enough to pry off the stubborn piece of shit. 

Tears had started to brim in your eyes from the stress of your pulling. Your arms were so tired, and your legs were equally as such. Relaxing your muscles suddenly, you loosened  your grip on the wrench, finally allowing yourself to exhale. Panting in silence for a moment, you turned your hands over to inspect them. They were much redder than normal, and the joints in your fingers ached like hell.

Looking down at your hands in silence, you were overcome with an emotion you had no way of describing.

Why were you here? Why did you even accept this job in the first place? Things were so much simpler when the Empire hadn’t come to your home planet, when it was just you, mom, and dad. You could have run. You could have gone with them off-world, but you didn’t believe them. You didn’t believe that the Empire would totally destroy your home. You didn’t believe that the Empire would force you into working for them just so that you could have some sense of protection. You didn’t believe that if you had stepped into their hands, you would never see your home or parents again. 

Liars, you had thought back then, mom and dad do not see the truth. 

Oh, how wrong you were. 

If you could turn back time right then and right there, you would punch your past self in the face for being so fucking blind. 

You didn’t notice that you were crying until you felt something warm and wet drop against your palm. Focusing your attention back, you stared deeply at the small puddle on your palm. Letting your mind brew a few moments longer, you frowned deeply as you closed your eyes and bunched your hands into fists. You leaned against the surface of the TIE Advanced, covering your face from the outside world. 

Maker above, please, grant me the power to turn back the hands of time. Even for just one day. 

Your legs finally giving out, you slowly slid down the surface of the ship until you were crouched on the cold, shiny floor, your tears now only a slight trickle. Forgetting exactly where you were, why you were there, and who exactly was your boss, you sniffled as you allowed yourself to lay on the ground, your legs and arms sighing in relief.

Staring up at the ceiling above you, you had noticed that there was a small window garnishing the roof of the hangar. This had caused you to let out a small chuckle past your tears. Something added to this damn ship purely for aesthetics? You must be going crazy. 

Looking at the window, you let your eyes be transfixed on the view that the tiny opening provided. The stars were just barely visible from your point of view, like miniscule flecks of dust. A fleeting moment of relaxation overtaking you, a thought quickly made its way across your brain. 

I need to get back to work. 

You made no attempt to do so as you felt your eyelids become heavier and heavier.

~~~

He had only the faintest idea of exactly how long you had been there when he found you. 

He had sensed your force energy waver from halfway across the Super Star Destroyer. The sheer amount of anger and frustration emanating off of your person was surprising. He had thought that you were the more calm and collected type, but reminded himself that human emotions were common. It surprised him that someone as small as you could feel such overwhelming amounts of anger. Being a sith lord, he would say that he was almost impressed. However, something inside of him kept him from feeling as such. 

Instead, he felt… saddened. He didn’t exactly know why. 

As fast as your immense feeling of anger came, it went. Sensing this new feeling within you, his attention was piqued. 

A deep sadness. A melancholy, even.

For a moment, he couldn’t tell where exactly he had felt such a thing before. He did not have to delve far into this memory before realizing exactly where he has sensed such strong feelings prior to now. 

He had felt them from within himself. 

As he was currently in a meeting with some high-ranking officers and a handful of moffs, he knew he couldn’t step away so suddenly and without warning without them pestering him. He did not like to be pestered. Yet, something deep down inside him told him to go to you, to check on you and make sure that you were…

No. He had more important matters to attend to, he told himself. 

Continuing on with his meeting, he couldn’t help but feel an odd sensation bubble within the core of his being. It pulled him away from the meeting, and beckoned him to leave these people and direct his attention towards you.  

There are more important matters to attend to, he had tried to tell himself, but his thoughts did nothing to silence the voice telling him to leave. 

After a long moment or two, he felt what was left of his natural body stiffen beneath the leather and robotics that encased him. Honing in on your force energy once again, he felt a cold feeling run through the web of nerves that remained within his body. Your presence had faded suddenly, a shadow of itself only a few moments prior. He couldn’t tell what you were feeling. 

Surprising him, he felt his mind race with various scenarios of what could have happened. Was something finally fixed on the ship? Had you inadvertently broken something further? Were you taking a break?

He clenched his fist when the most worrisome thought of all popped inside of his head, making all the others fade away into nothing. 

Were you dead?

He tried in vain to calm himself of the thought and put it to rest. He had seen you only the night before, and you appeared to be in perfect health. You had even smiled. This did little to calm him, however. As he would try to focus on what these idiotic officers had to say, his mind would always slip back to you. 

A great sense of frustration started to smother him whole, causing him to clench his fist even tighter. He was frustrated that he could not pay attention to the meeting. He was frustrated that he had to attend the meeting in the first place. He was frustrated that these officers and moffs were so damn stupid. However, most of all…

He was frustrated that he couldn’t go to you. 

He was frustrated that you had such a profound effect on him. You were just his mechanic. Why did he care whether you were dead or alive? You could be replaced. 

...couldn’t you?

The second that words were spoken to signal the end of the meeting, he had turned and exited the meeting room, the wind of his fast exit making his cape flutter behind him. He sensed that the other men in the room were confused and almost startled by his sudden departure, but he didn’t care. He had to go to his hangar immediately. 

Marching past all the other workers of the Super Star Destroyer in his path, he ignored all who tried to grab his attention. Idiots. Fools. Worms. 

Couldn’t they see that he was in a hurry?

But why was he? 

Why was he so in need to see you? To hear your voice and see your eyes? To hear a report on your progress? 

Because (F/N) is my mechanic. Nothing more, he told himself. Why did it feel like a lie? 

Finally at the doors of his hangar, he punched in his code to the keypad and stepped through the doors. The space was eerily quiet, and this unnerved him. Were his suspicions true? 

Hastily making his way over to your workstation, he couldn't help but notice the palm of your small hand capsized on the floor in front of his TIE, the rest of your body obscured by a crate in the way. 

No. 

No.

This cannot be.

Quickening his pace, he moved his hand to extend in front of him. Reaching out with the force, he threw the crate covering the sight of you across the hangar, it’s landing making an unholy crashing noise. 

As he drew closer to you, he noticed how you were laid on the floor, one hand stretched to an unknown receiver and the other pulled close to your chest. You were resting on your side, and, unsurprisingly, your jacket was long since discarded. He did not blame you for hating that infernal article of clothing. 

Finally within conversation distance to you, he stopped his quick pace and pointed the face of his mask to look at the tiny frame at his feet. Watching you carefully, he noticed that your chest and shoulders were slowly rising and falling in a rhythmic beat. 

You were alive. 

He pretended not to notice the feeling of relief wash over him.

~~~

When you finally awoke again, you were immediately hit with three startling realizations. 

Number one: you had no idea how much time had elapsed since you were looking at that window. Squinting your eyes to open slightly, you tried to process the time based on the amount of light within the hangar. This was hard to do, however, since you were still very groggy from your sleep. A for effort anyway. 

Number two: you were no longer on the floor where you had originally laid down. You could tell this from the feeling of one of your legs dangling off the edge of the object you were laying on, as well as the same feeling in one of your hands. This was confirmed as you pulled in your hands close to your chest, turned your torso, and pushed yourself up with wobbling arms. Your mind was still very fuzzy, but you were just able to make out the foregin surface beneath you. From the patterns on its surface, you deduced that it was one of the crates that littered your workstation.

Number three, and probably the most frightening of all: you were not alone. After a moment of your grogginess slipping off of your body, your ears finally turned back into your consciousness. They told you of the noise they heard, and the fear you should be feeling as a result of it. 

Heavy, mechanical, rhythmic, breath. 

His breath. 

Taking a quick glance up from the surface of the crate, you beckoned your eyes to tell you whether or not your two ears were the biggest liars in the galaxy or not. Of course, they weren’t. Before you was that silhouette you knew all too well. 

Shit. 

Quickly rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you scrambled to try and stand up and assume your attention stance. You found this difficult, however, since your muscles were still aching from before. 

Oh maker, you thought, is this how I die?

“My Lord! Lord Vader!” you were able to say, your eyes finally able to focus on your boss. After a moment of processing the sight before you, you thought that maybe you were dreaming, or somehow hit your head on the way down to the ground. Lord Vader was about ten feet away from you, his buff arms folded across his large, taunt chest, and his gaze locked firmy on your frame. All of these were not surprising. What was surprising, is that he was doing all of this from a seated position upon another crate, only this one had obvious scratches and skid marks on it. Was it always like that?

You realized that this was the first time that you had ever seen Darth Vader sit down. He was always standing, always looming above everyone you ever saw. But, even as he was in a more neutral and open position, he was still very intimidating. If anything, he looked even bigger and more dominating than when he was standing up. 

You hoped he didn’t notice how your cheeks turned pink as you beheld him before you. 

“My Lord, my apologies you have to see me this way, I-I have no idea...” you began to speak. If he was going to kill you, he was sure taking his sweet time with it. He had every reason to do so. You were resting on the job. Not even pretending to do your job, on the first damn day no less! This would have been met with the harshest punishments by the officers. And, if the stories had taught you anything, Lord Vader’s would be even harsher. 

Trying to formulate the rest of your apology, you were also trying again and again to stand at attention. Your arms and legs, however, had different plans. Their weakness kept you firmly in your sitting position upon the crate. This only made the internal panic for your life stronger. Lord Vader detested weakness. Saw it as only a burden, and would be eradicated swiftly and unkindly. 

After a few attempts to stand and choke out an apology, Lord Vader rose from his sitting position, letting his strong arms fall to his sides. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. He was coming to kill you. You knew it. You would be dead here in a matter of minutes, sliced in two by his red saber. 

Adrenaline kicking in, you hoped that the hormone would give you the strength to stand once again. Nothing.

Vader stepped slowly and decisively closer to you, his gaze still locked upon you. Despite the rapid beating of your heart and your brain telling you to run as fast as you could, you stayed put. Lowering your head, you stared down at your feet and sighed quietly, taking a long, slow blink. If he was going to kill you, you hoped that he would give you at least the mercy of making it as quick as possible. 

Once he stopped about three feet away from you, you closed your eyes and braced yourself to hear the sound of his saber igniting in his grasp. 

This never came.

Instead, you felt something heavy, strong, and leathery make contact with your left shoulder. It was enormous, and dwarfed the joint in almost every way. Picking up your head, you darted your eyes over to the source of the pressure. Following your gaze from the touch, you followed it to its source. 

Lord Vader. 

His hand was on your shoulder. 

Maybe you really had hit your head on your way to the ground. 

“(F/N),” he said, his mask pointed squarely on your face, “I have been waiting some time for you to awaken. Do you wish to tell me why I have found you in such a state?” 

Oh yeah. You definitely hit your head on the way down. 

Licking your bottom lip and swallowing, you paused a moment before responding. You decided to tell the truth. If he wanted me dead, you figured, he would’ve killed me already. He doesn’t seem the type to draw these things out.

“I… I was trying to loosen one of the bolts on your TIE, my Lord. I tried many methods to remove it, but none of them worked. So, I thought that I would try and just try and pry it off myself. I guess I tried too hard because I just felt so weak all the sudden… Please pardon me, my Lord, I was not trying to avoid my work.” You said, letting your gaze fall only briefly as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You felt your cheeks burn brighter the longer he had his hand on your shoulder. 

“I see.” he said flatly, taking his hand off of you and placing it on his belt alongside his other hand. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since you felt something like it, but you quickly missed the feeling of his hand upon your body.

“I do hope that you have enough strength to continue on with the day, Miss (F/N). I can see that you are making good progress, and it would be a shame if you did not continue as such.” he continued, tilting his head to the side. 

“Y-yes, My Lord. I can continue on with the day.” 

“Good.” he responded. Lifting up his hand once again, he unfurled it from it's gripping position, pointing his palm towards the ceiling as he extended it within your gripping distance. It took you a second of staring at his hand dumbly for you to register what exactly he was doing. “Do not allow me to keep you occupied then, Miss (F/N).”

Flicking your gaze from his hand to his mask over and over again, you hesitantly lifted your hand, your fingers loose. Gently placing your hand within his, another shot of blush made its way onto your cheeks. Your hand was noticeably smaller than his, your palm and fingers being dwarfed by his own. You could barely wrap your hand around his. 

Once your grip was secure, Lord Vader wrapped his robotic digits around your grasp. Cue another shot of blush on your cheeks. His grip was strong, secure, stable.

Deep down within you, you wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on other parts of your body. 

Helping you bring you to your feet, Lord Vader flexed his arm to pull you up off the crate. The strong motion definitely helping you to your feet, your legs only wobbling in protest for a moment before allowing you to stand again.

You were now awfully close to Lord Vader. 

Only about a foot away, your hand still wrapped tightly in his. 

Realizing that you had forgotten to pull your hand back, you blushed for what seemed like the fifteen-millionth time that day and slowly pulled it back. You kept your neck craned as you looked up at him, your height different now more apparent than ever. Looking right into the eyes of his black, menacing mask you mumbled out a quiet thank you, my Lord. 

The two of you stood dead-locked in a galaxy-wide championship of a staring contest for a long while. The only sound that interrupted the silence between two of you were his breath and the distant rumbling of the engines of the Super Star Destroyer. Many thoughts darted through your head as you looked right at him, trying to see if you could see his eyes beneath the mask’s.

What exactly is his game here? Why didn’t he just kill me? Am I that important? Of course not, I’m just a mechanic, he could always get another one. Then why? I wish I could see his face. Don’t think that, (F/N), that would never happen. I want him to touch me again. STOP THAT, (F/N). I don’t want him to leave. I want… 

Stop humoring yourself, (F/N). He sees you as his mechanic. Nothing more. 

It was him that broke the silence again. A simple sentence, nothing more.

“Do not dawdle any longer, (F/N). I will return again for another report at a later time.” 

You gave him a nod and a courteous yes, my Lord before he turned to leave, walking off yet again. 

Sighing to yourself, you returned to your earlier position, wrapping your hand around the wrench that was still wrapped around the bolt from before. You had hoped that the bolt would have just magically loosened itself from the time you had fallen asleep to now. 

With a brief complaint from your arms, you tried pulling the wrench towards you once again. Big shocker, it still didn't move. Cursing to yourself silently, you tried again. Want an even bigger shocker? It still didn’t move. Surprising, isn’t it?

Taking a step back to try and think of some other way that you could pry off this bolt, you shook out the pain from your hands, your brow furrowing. 

You thought that you must be hallucinating as you stared at the wrench. Without you even touching it, the wrench had started to turn towards you, taking the stubborn bolt along with it. Your confusion only grew as it repeated this motion a few more times until, suddenly, and without warning, the bolt came undone, crashing on the floor with the wrench. The sudden noise made you flinch and jump back, your mouth opening in a silent yelp. 

You were beyond bewildered. How the hell did that happen? Are you high? Hallucinating?

Quickly putting two and two together, you turned your body to the door, your lips parting. Sure enough, there he was, his hand extended it the direction of the wrench and bolt, fingers relaxed. You couldn’t believe it. You had heard the stories of this power before, his power, but you didn’t believe them. You thought it had just been people exaggerating the level of his strength. But, now, you knew that it sure as fuck wasn’t. 

You should have been scared. You should have cowered in fear, knowing that all the legends you heard were true. Yet, you didn’t. You couldn’t, even. 

All you could do was smile. Smile like a dopey, bumbling idiot and laugh in disbelief. 

You had no idea what came over you.

Calling out a hasty thank you, my Lord, you hoped that you didn’t look as girlish and giddy to him as you felt. You hadn’t smiled like this in such a long time. 

Offering nothing more than a long look and a nod, Lord Vader left the hangar, leaving you alone there once more. 

You ate an extra ration that night, the ghost of Vader’s touch still lingering in your nerves.

How you craved for him to do it again.  

~~

TAGS: @spaghetti-666​ , @soullesstaco​ , @arsonistvoyager​ , @robin-obsessed​ , @glitter-rian​ , @captainrexstan​ , @easterncryptid​ , @deviatedwinter​ , @roseangel013bf​ , @danicalifxrnia​ 

#darth vader #darth vader x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #star wars fanfic

[loverlele]

I’m A Believer

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings: some bad language, that's about it for this one

A/N: It’s currently nearly 1am, I can't sleep and I am bored as hell. I’ve had an idea for a Spencer Reid one shot for the last few days, so I thought now would be the best time to give it a crack. It’s based on an idea I had when listening to I’m A Believer by Smash Mouth. I haven't written properly for a while so it’s not super long and please bare with me. Anyways, enough of the waffling, enjoy :)

Word count: 1480

- 

It’s not often we get cases that end in a good way, especially not this good. It took us two days to catch the unsub, his victims were still alive and he surrendered without much argument. It was almost as if he knew he wouldn't succeed in going through with his plans and decided letting himself get caught was easier. Definitely not something we see everyday. Hell, it's not something we see at all here. So when Emily said she wanted to listen to some music on the ride home, nobody objected. Even Spencer, which I was surprised at. Everyone was in high spirits, something that didn't happen too often on the job. But when it did happen, nobody took these moments for granted. 

The feeling of content was soon taken away as I felt a pen hit the back of my head. My head whipped up, making eye contact with Derek instantly. “What?! That wasn't me, it was JJ!” he proclaimed, hands up defensively. “I know it was you Derek, you are the only one who likes to throw things at other people’s heads” I said, not being able to hide the smile from my face. I love that out of all the things we could be arguing about right now it’s Derek being the man child he is and throwing pens at people’s heads to get their attention. “But JJ-”

“But JJ nothing, go back to listening to One Direction and leave me in peace. Besides there's better ways to get a girls attention. I think you’re losing some of your game Morgan” I said, throwing his pen back at him. I don't think he was expecting me to lob the pen at the force I did because it flew through the air and bounced off his forehead. 

“Who?”

“Ow!” 

A gasp could be heard over the song. “Did Spencer just say ‘who’ to One Direction? Do you live under a rock?” Emily exclaims. I look over at the man sat next to me, his eyebrows furrowed. I gently out my hand over his arm “Em, be nice” I say lightly running my fingers up and down his arm, eyes still focused on the scene in front of me, “He’s too busy wrapping himself up in books and knowledge to focus on anything else.” JJ’s giggle carried itself throughout the plane. Damn you JJ, I thought. If anyone was going to catch onto the slight double meaning in that sentence it was her. I mean I wasn't exactly hiding the fact I had a fat crush on Spence, it doesn't take a profiler to figure that one out. He might have 3 PHD’s and B.A.’s, but that man is oblivious as fuck to what's right under his nose.

“My game’s not weak” Derek huffed, “As for the pen, just wait. I'll get you back for that one missy.”

“Good luck with that one boo” I say, leaning into Spencer’s shoulder slightly. I feel him freeze up for a couple of seconds before slowly relaxing, “everyone knows I'm better at paybacks, just ask the doc how I got him back for stealing my fries the other week.” I don’t need to be looking at Spencer to know his cheeks have gone red.

“S-she waited behind a door for me to come in and then sprayed a whole can of whipped cream onto me. I was sticky for hours!”

“Not for the first time, eh pretty boy?” Derek smirked, completely ignoring any of the other parts of the sentence.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, no longer wanting to be a part of this conversation. He started wriggling round a bit, trying to reach something, so I sat up slightly. He pulled his phone out from his pocket, placing it on the table before getting comfy again. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. I couldn't help a small smile sneak onto my lips at the gesture. “You softy” I muttered, getting myself comfy again. I hear a quiet scoff from JJ’s area, but chose to ignore it, not feeling in the mood to talk about my feelings in front of the rest of the team.

We all sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, finishing up out notes, when the backing track to my favourite song comes on. I quickly hit up, suddenly hit with a wave of energy as my eyes search rapidly for Emily. Spencer softly laughs from besides me, sitting up more himself - yet keeping the distance between us two at a bare minimum. Keeping eye contact with Em, we both start singing along at the top of our voices

I thought love was only true in fairy tales Meant for someone else but not for me Love was out to get me That's the way it seemed Disappointment haunted all of my dreams

I hear JJ and Derek join in just before the chorus

Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer Not a trace, of doubt in my mind

Subconsciously, I start leaning backwards into Spencer as I sing the next bit. An action I thought went unnoticed by the rest of the team, however that was stupid to think so because they pick up every little detail. I mean, it’s their bloody job to do so

I'm in love, and I'm a believer I couldn't leave her if I tried

As I was singing with the rest of the BAU team (including Rossi, but not Hotch, nope he was just sat there basking in the happiness and laughing at our pitchy voices) I was unaware that my subconscious movement had made something click in Spencer’s head. If anyone was paying close attention to the doctor’s face they’d be able to see the clogs in his brain turning and a lightbulb turn on in his brain. They’d be able to see the admiration he held for the girl to his right. They’d be able to see just how much she meant to him. They’d be able to see just how deep in thought he was that he didn't even realise the screeching had turned into laughing. But nobody was paying attention to the fluffy headed man in the corner until I shut around, slightly out of breath.

“Spence... is everything okay?” I ask in a low voice, trying not to grab anyone else’s attention. Little did I know that whilst there was laughing and chatting in the background, the other agents’ attention was on us. His head slowly moved up, his eyes making contact with mine. “Spence, what is-”

“How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you felt this way about me?” His voice wavering slightly. I could see the anxiety in this eyes when he asked that, silently hoping he hadn't read the signs wrong. I slowly sit back in my seat and grab his hand gently, entwining our hands together. Both of us too wrapped up in our bubble to realise the music had been turned down and we not had 10 eyes watching our every move. Fiddling with his fingers slightly I try to find the right string of words that don't sound like rubbish.

“Do you remember the day where I came into the office absolutely soaked because I decided that day, for the first time since doing this job, that I’d take the bus and walk the rest of the day?” He just nods his head, his other hand coming to lay on top of our intwined hands, “that day you asked me if I had a spare change of clothes and when I told you no, you offered me your spare change and told me to get into something warm.

When I got back into the office, you were sat near my desk holding a muffin, a hot chocolate and some anti-sickness medication. You said to me, ‘it’s not much but I hope it’s made today slightly easier to deal with.’ Even in the following weeks when I was sick you made sure I was okay. You always had any medication I might need close to you, and you insisted on coming with me to work everyday so that didn't happen again.

I have no idea if I’d fallen for you before that week, but that was when knew I’d fallen hard. it’s okay if you don't feel the same way, I understand and I get that. Just please don’t-”

In that moment, it was as if we were the only two people alive. He pulled me into a tight hug, pressing his lips to my forehead before burying his face in my neck. His arms wrapped around my torso, my body fitting snuggly under his.

It was as if two missing pieces of a puzzle were reunited. Like they'd found their way back home. Back home to each other...

#criminal minds #spencer reid #cm #spencer #reid #first time #fluff #one shot #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid fluff #matthew gray gubler smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #gubler #spencer reid x y/n

[danganronpa-21]

Writing, Goalposts, and my Naegiri Week 2021 Participation

I’ve been reflecting on what to do about my writing speed lately.

Seems like I do that a lot, huh? Like once every few months I come up with an idea, and I tell myself maybe this will help me write quicker, but then it doesn’t. I know that I worry too much about it, especially for someone who has probably one of the best and most patient audiences that a writer could ask for. You all know me though, I can’t help worrying even if I wanted to. So in my worrying recently, I’ve started thinking about what might actually need to be done when it comes to my work. 

The conclusion I’ve come to, ultimately, is that I need to take some time to get ahold of myself and my work.

Part of the problem that exists with my work is that I’m buried within layers and layers of just... stuff. I participate in Naegiri Week every year for all 7 days and insist on finishing, when asked questions about Danganronpa 21 stuff I say I’ll write them but then I never get around to it, I ask for requests and then I only manage to finish three of them before I grow exhausted, and I write a long fic which really is its own literary headache. It seems like I’m constantly biting off more than I can chew, and I knowingly do it because I want to show appreciation to my audience and I want to write things that they enjoy. 

The thing is, though, I don’t actually think I’m able to do that because I’m not actually finishing anything on time. Danganronpa 21 will be two years out without an update in December which just feels plain embarrassing, I’m constantly playing catch-up with Naegiri Week, I still have those follower prompts to work on, and it’s just a lot of stuff, stuff, stuff. When put together, I have about 15 different things I need to write: 3 remaining Naegiri Week prompts from 2020 and 2018, 10 prompts from my follower prompt requests, 1 chapter of Danganronpa 21 just so it will have a freaking update, and 1 headcanon-based one-shot. Like that’s a lot, and it’s for Danganronpa works alone. Factor in other stuff I do, and it gets worse. I can barely believe that I’ve been sitting here for years kicking myself about this, but actively scooping more onto my plate. I guess I thought it was better to promise you good stuff every time I felt like I’d let you down, but I wasn’t really making it better for either of us.

My writing speed is never going to be great. I always try my best to work on it, but my anxiety disorder is a big part of it, and mental illness is not easily defeated so much as it is coped with. So I’m trying, but... I stress too much and I edit too hard and some days I burn myself out studying Shakespeare and can’t motivate myself to write with a fried brain. Moving the goal posts is only exacerbating the problem. It’s not doing either of us any favours. I’m not even really giving you more content. With how slowly I’m going, you’re missing out on stuff. I don’t like that, you don’t like that, why are we doing that? 

So that brings me to my current thoughts: 

I think I will only participate in three out of seven prompts for Naegiri Week 2021.

That way, you don’t miss out on Naegiri Week works entirely (I know they’re a reader favourite), but it’s more reasonable to assume that I can knock them out in November and go back to work on other projects. And really, with the leftover Naegiri Week prompts from 2020 and 2018 being 3 total, you’ll still eventually end up with 6 Naegiri Week prompts, which is still almost a full week’s worth. It was a tough choice to make given that I love participating and I know everyone looks forward to it, but in the end it feels like the right idea.

If the prompts happen to be super stellar and I come up with some ideas, I’ll put them in my back pocket for when I have the time. I won’t go out of my way to tell you what they are, when they’ll be coming, or anything. I’ll just write them down for me, and have them as a neat little surprise for when we can get there. Right now it just doesn’t make sense to keep adding new things to my workload when I’m already behind. I’d just be moving the goal posts for myself again, and then getting upset with myself when I’m not some kind of writing whiz. As I said at the beginning, I kind of just need to stop and catch up. Nothing shiny and new for me for awhile, just stuff you’ve all been waiting to see.

As always, thank you for your patience, and I wish you a good day/week/month/year/life in general! I appreciate all of the support you have given me over the years. 

TLDR; I’m only doing three Naegiri Week prompts this year because I’m behind on everything and want to focus my energy on catching up with other writing you all have asked for. You will see the return of 3 other incomplete prompts from previous years, so you are not lacking on Naegiri content. Any ideas I have from this year’s prompts that I do not pursue as my three will be put aside for after catch-up.

#there's a tldr at the end if it's too long for you

[tsuki-chibi]

Ladynoir July Day 24: Giving Up

“I give up.”

Chat had been almost asleep before Ladybug whispered those fateful words. At her admission, he was suddenly wide awake. He turned towards his partner with a shocked expression, only to see that she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Ladybug had her knees pulled up against her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting stop her knees. She looked small and sad as she stared out at the city lights.

“... What?” Chat asked, wondering if he’d dreamt what she’d said.

“I’m giving up,” she repeated. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Chat asked. His heart thudded uncomfortably hard against his ribs. If he lost Ladybug as a partner now -

“This. Everything. It’s too much. My friends hate me, my parents think I’ve turned into a flake, I haven’t been able to design anything for weeks. My brain continuously feels like it’s fried. I can’t even remember the last time I got a good night’s sleep. I’m so tired.” Ladybug’s voice broke. A tear slid down her cheek.

Chat stared at her in silence. On some level, he supposed he’d known this moment was coming. Ladybug’s smiles never seemed to reach her eyes anymore. She looked like how he felt: like life had wrung every last drop out of them already.

“You’re not giving up your miraculous, are you?” he asked finally. That was his greatest fear and he was relieved when Ladybug slowly shook her head.

“No, I - I’m in this too deep now to let go. And I couldn’t do that to you.” She turned her head at last to look at him. “I’d miss you too much.”

“I’d miss you too,” Chat told her. He dared to reach out and put an arm around her shoulders. Normally she would’ve shrugged him off. Tonight, she leaned into him. She was warm, and he swallowed hard.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ladybug admitted softly.

“Maybe...” Chat trailed off.

“Maybe?”

“We could tell each other who we are,” he said slowly. “I know it’s dangerous... but LB, this is dangerous too. At least then we could provide support for each other all the time. And we could be each other’s excuses. I don’t know about you, but it would be super handy for me to be able to tell my dad I was with someone rather than making up lame excuses all the time.”

He fully expected her to brush the suggestion off the way she always did. But she didn’t. Ladybug was quiet for at least a minute. Chat didn’t say anything either, content to lean against her and watch the city.

Then she said, “It would be dangerous. If one of us got akumatized... it would put us both at risk. And our families.”

Chat sighed. “Don’t you think having more support might prevent one of us from being akumatized?”

“Tikki will be mad. Master Fu too.”

“With all due respect, My Lady, Tikki and Master Fu aren’t the ones living with secret identities,” he pointed out. “They don’t have to deal with everything. We do.”

“You might hate me,” she said.

“Unless you’re Lila Rossi, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

They both chuckled, but the moment was too fraught with intensity to be amusing for long. Chat looked down at her and saw that she was watching him. There was a look in Ladybug’s eyes that he’d never seen before and, with a jolt of wonder, he realized she was actually thinking about it.

“Okay,” Ladybug said.

“What? Really?” Chat said, shocked.

“Yes really. You’re right. Something has to give. I can’t do this anymore, and I don’t think you can either.” More tears pooled over, running down her mask, and Chat wiped them away.

“I can’t,” he admitted. “But - I would try. For you.”

She gave a wet laugh. “Oh, Chaton, you are too good to me.”

“Adrien,” he said.

Ladybug tensed. “What?”

“My name. It’s Adrien. Adrien Agreste.” He felt an immediate burst of relief as he spoke. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long. Even if Ladybug decided not to say anything, he felt better just knowing that she knew about him.

“Oh,” Ladybug said softly. “Oh. Huh. Well then.” Inexplicably, she blushed. “I guess now I know why Adrien always liked Ladybug so much.”

He grinned at her. “What can I say? I care for you too much to keep quiet about it no matter what mask I’m wearing, Bugaboo.”

Ladybug’s blush deepened. “Well,” she said. “Ladybug and Chat can’t date. Or at least, I’d prefer we didn’t...”

Chat’s eyes went wide. “W-what?”

“But.. But Adrien and Marinette could,” Ladybug said in a rush. “If you wanted.”

“Marinette,” Chat said, puzzle pieces slotting neatly into place. Suddenly it all made sense.

She nodded shyly. “It’s me.”

“Wow.” Chat shook his head in amazement. “That’s... perfect.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” Chat said. “I can’t think of anyone else I would’ve preferred.”

Ladybug’s smile was small, but this time it reached her eyes. It felt like she was smiling with her soul. Helplessly, Chat smiled back. This wouldn’t fix everything, of course. But he thought it was a damn good start.

#ladynoirjuly2019 #ladybug #chat noir #identity reveal #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #perhaps someday i will stop being reveal trash #today is not that day

[rogue-bard]

I’ll Write Your Name

Fandom: Marvel Avengers ( Earth-3490 ) Ships: Tony Stark / Steve Rogers (not yet though) Summary: It’s your usual story. Girl meets boy. Girl defrosts boy. Girl hides secret identity from boy, who just so happens to have become that secret identity’s best friend. Oh, and someone forgot to close the door to the multiverse and if they and their weird counterparts don’t find out who did it, the world might just fall to some kind of firy apocalypse or something. So there’s that.

This is a sneak-peak at my current background project that I work on every now and then, because I needed content for my advent calendar.

Prologue

“According to Wikipedia, underwear exists for at least 7000 years, Miss.“

“Exactly! And I'm a futurist!”

“A futurist who is currently flying over the north of Greenland,“ Jarvis informed Toni over the suit's earpiece, unbidden as ever. “Am I meant to assume that the future you are expecting, is significantly influenced by global warming?”

„Well, I didn't have time to change into that full-body anti-chafe condom. Thought I did. Didn't. Not my fault, I'm commando now,“ Toni complained into her helmet, just quiet enough for Natasha not to hear. Clint had stopped listening after their argument with the navigation system on the Avenjet anyway.

“Maybe if you had started taking off your pajamas when the alarm started sounding, Ma'am....” Jarvis' voice suggested but was wise enough not to finish that sentence. It wasn't her fault that she ignored the alarm! Everybody in Avengers Tower ignored the alarm. Which, okay, might be a bit her fault. She'd change the code word as soon as they got back.

“The armor is chafing,” she continued venting to her AI instead of rising to its accusation and defending the perfectly sound reasoning why she had pulled her cushion over her ears once the alarm started blaring. You know, the one that signified that the world was in danger of possible annihilation and other fun stuff like that.

God, she hated chafing. There was enough of that in her gruesome teenage-years.

“What are you mumbling about?” the redhead next to her interrupted their conversation. Natasha was staring at some useless SHIELD-issue radar that she steadily refused to let Toni upgrade for her.

“He's not wearing panties,” Clint supplied.

“For Tesla's sake, how come you never listen when I'm actually talking to you?”

The archer didn't so much as move a muscle. “It's called 'selective hearing',” he said with a perfectly straight face. “You should try it some time. Your boss? Toni? You know, the woman you climb into that metal coffin for? I'm pretty sure she invented it. Ask Fury.”

Okay, time to change the subject. “It's cold.” Iron Man's complaint was thankfully distorted beyond recognition by the speakers, as always. She didn't need to be coming off whiny.

“That's what underwear's for, from what I heard.”

“Jarvis, please give birdbrain the exact difference a pair of boxer-shorts would be making to my bodyheat.”

“Your suit can turn your piss into filter-coffee,” Clint countered, thumping at his earpiece, since Natasha apparently had no intention of chiming into the conversation. Being on missions with Iron Man, who didn't move his mouth whatsoever, always made him even more irritable than he usually was. But god forbid that metal head would open his helmet and give away his super secret identity! “Are you recovering from a bad nose-job or is it pimples?” Clint asked. “I bet it's pimples. You don't want us to know your face because the pimples are just awful.” The others knew the hearing aid was tempering his usually so sunny disposition. Well that, and the fact they bodily dragged him away from the coffee-machine when they left.

“Your point being?” Iron Man demanded.

“I'm sure there's a thermostat in there, somewhere between the controls for Pokemon Go and Tinder,” Clint finished, stealthily signing something that the others didn't understand. It didn't look nice though.

“It stopped working,” Toni admitted, begrudgingly. “After I got hit by that drone. Which is weird, because the readings suggest-”

The archer pressed his index finger to his ear again and frowned disapprovingly. “Great, now I only get static,” he hissed. “I didn't catch any of that last sentence, but I can guess it went along the lines of 'bla bla blablabla'.”

“Clint!” Natasha grabbed him by the arm. The urgency in her tone wasn't foreboding anything good. “It's not you.” When he turned to face her, he saw Iron Man standing there completely frozen in place, in the midst of taking a step. The usually blue-gleaming eyes of the faceplate a dull grey.

“Iron Man, are you okay?”

Toni let her voice drop from her head register. Without the static of the transmitter, she wasn't too sure they wouldn't recognize it. Plus, speaking deeper than she liked to helped with the volume. “The suit seems to have temporarily shut down.” Despite the yelling, she knew Natasha and Clint barely heard Iron Man's muffled voice through the helmet.

“What the shit! I'm not carrying him back to the Avenjet.” Clint threw his hands in the air theatrically. “Do you think Toni will come and pick him up if we just leave him here?”

“Trouble, Team?” A voice rang out before a yellow flash blinded their eyes for a second, before a shattering impact sent ice shards flying in their eyes.

“You're late, Carol,” Natasha greeted the other woman cold as ever, but her eyes betrayed a smile. “Can you fire up Iron Man again? He just shut down.”

Captain Marvel frowned at the red-gold ice-sculpture. “What's wrong?”

“Suit broke down due to a significant lack in underpants,” Clint supplied.

Letting out a huff, Carol raised a finger and lightly touched the breast-panel that she knew held the suit's power source. A short, yellowish flash discharged into Toni's chest and the interface flickered to life around her vision. Perfect!

Unfortunately, her repulsors also started firing into the ground which might have been a side-effect of having the suit kick-started by photonic energy. Clint and Natasha were once again showered in ice shards and a tiny snow hurricane.

“Huh, that was weird,” Toni admitted unapologetically.

“Not as weird as that.” All of a sudden, Carol's voice sounded strained.

“Is that...” Natasha started.

“Yes.” The other woman answered before she could finish.

“Is he...” Clint drifted off, not able to tear his eyes from the red-white-and-blue uniform that Captain Marvel's landing and Iron Man's malfunction had laid bare in the ice under his feet.

“Alive,” Toni answered, much to her own surprise. But the readings Jarvis gave her were unmistakably a pulse rate.

“That's incredible,” Black Widow said, having her hands tucked under her armpits while she was staring down the figure that lay on their stretcher and letting the air-force general pilot the jet back to New York. “He's waking up!” As the man before them was stirring, the weird drone that had attacked them in America and then lured out into the arctic sea, was forgotten. For now at least.

“Is his brain okay?” Clint sounded dubious. But then again, he hadn't had his coffee, so that was probably the only tone of voice he could muster in spite of the world just continuing to turn. Without being fueled by caffeine, and all.

Toni decided to act upon her duty, being the only one in the makeshift infimary without fried brain cells or manners buried somewhere in the icy ground of Russia. So she addressed their star-spangled patient directly: “Are you alright?” Maybe, she decided in the split-second, the metal shield needed to dig itself into her face-plate, leaning over a deep-frozen supersoldier waking up from an 80-year coma wasn't the smartest idea after all.

The formerly comatose man threw his foot into Natasha's stomach, catching her off-guard and throwing her hard into Toni's chest. “Bucky!”

He hadn't even finished the second syllable and Hawkeye had an arrow cocked, bow pulled back. “Stop!”

“Woah, calm down, soldier!” Carol shouted in her Captain-voice. It was enough for the frozen man to hesitate.

“You're safe,” Natasha tried. But looking at Clint ready to go, that didn't seem to do much to convince him.

“You're with friends!” Toni confirmed, taking a step to the side so Natasha was no longer between the two of them.

That finally got a reaction from their captive: “What are you,” he yelled. “Some kind of Hydra automaton?”

“What?” Behind the face-plate, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “...No??” Her suit? Medieval Hydra-tech? Really?

“Sharp-tongued as always, Iron Man,” Natasha came out of nowhere behind their assailant and drove an injection from her Stingers into his neck. He folded himself to the gurney like slinky.

“... Did you just kill Captain America,” Clint asked, incredulous.

Carol heaved a deep sighed.

#superhusbands #steve/tony #stony #avengers #marvel #own #own writing #indy's advent calendar #2

[bookenders]

11/11/11

Tagged by @aslanwrites! Thank you so much! These are some really good questions.

I got a little long-winded answering some of these. 🙃 Welcome to my brain.

Rules: Answer 11 Questions, Ask Eleven Questions, Tag Eleven People!

Why did you start writing?

I’ve never been asked this before. Huh. When people ask me why I write, I usually joke and say “because I’m not good at anything else” or “it’s the one thing that I haven’t gotten bored of.” But why I started? If I think way, way, waaaay back, it might be because I had questions I didn’t want to ask with my voice, so I put them down in words. Why does this? What would happen if? Who would? Let’s find out.

What writing advice do you adhere to?

If I were to list all of it, we’d be here all day.

But there is some key advice that has stuck with me: make sure your scenes/stories are grounded in a location as early as possible so the audience isn’t confused, even if you’re being artsy; the way you stylize dialogue tags should make sense for the story (e.g. no tags, no quotation marks, italics); too much poetic prose will make the great lines seem average; if you say you’re going all-in, go all-in, or the story will suffer; and when editing, read your work out loud (you’ll catch rhythm and acoustics errors this way, as well as wonky grammar and phrasing).

What writing advice do you disagree with?

A lot of what you can hear in workshops, actually. And a lot of what beginners are told. Yes, you have to learn the rules to be able to break them with skill and confidence, but there’s teaching and then there’s policing. I think a lot of writing advice with hard boundaries of “can/can’t” or “do/don’t” is sketchy. Like “show don’t tell”? Should be “there’s a time and place for each, find it.”

Do you think “Said” is dead?

No way! I’m one of those stodgy writers who prefers “said” over most other dialogue tags. I don’t use them unless they’re significant or necessary, which is rarely, and I prefer to punctuate dialogue with action, anyway. Using dialogue tags should never detract or distract from the actual narrative going on. If you use different tags every single line, your readers will be annoyed.

Said, like rock and roll, never died.

Favorite drink when writing?

Used to be coffee when I was in school, but now it’s tea or water, occasionally peach juice. English or Irish Breakfast, typically. I’m a black tea kind of gal.

What’s your favorite app to write on? Or do you prefer notebooks?

Scrivener! It’s awesome. I used to write in Word, but then I found out about Scrivener and bought it as a birthday gift to myself when they had a discount. Before my stupid dumb injury, I wrote in notebooks and on random papers most of the time, but reading my notes afterward was nearly impossible because my handwriting is awful when I go fast and there were papers everywhere.

Who or what is your biggest inspiration?

When I started, it was Laurie Halse Anderson. Then it was the readers. Now it’s all of the possibilities. Like, have you ever taken a second to think of what writing can do, and has done in the past? Plato thought poets were too dangerous to be allowed in his ideal Republic! So many successful books and essays were written by imprisoned artists! People find themselves in books every day, and their discoveries help them learn that they’re not alone. (The first time I saw my identity represented in a book, I cried.) When characters succeed despite all odds, we cheer. When they struggle and fail and bring themselves back from the brink of disaster, our hearts leap and dive. When they find love of any kind, it warms us to our cores. That’s what inspires me.

What do you wish writers would do more of?

What they want! I see a lot of writers (beginners, especially) struggle with writing what’s popular or what everyone likes. When I was an editor, I saw a lot of short stories that followed whatever form and content the most recent hit had. That was kinda annoying. Don’t be afraid to be original! And don’t be afraid of the tropes! Put your own spin on it. No one has seen your ideas before, and that means they’re all original! Be weird! Do crazy things! Break the rules (with purpose!) and do what you want.

What do you wish writers would do less of?

Down themselves! Maintaining confidence is hard in this discipline/industry/craft/what have you, I know, but that doesn’t mean your work is terrible. It just means you need to keep at it until you feel better about your stuff. It takes a while, but you’ll get there. You’re living your passion! Own it!

What turns you away from a story?

From reading one? I adapt my turn-offs depending on what I’m reading. I have SUPER different expectations for published novels than I do fanfiction. Novels and stories published by big houses or big names have a lot less leeway than fanfic and original fiction posted online by the writer themselves.

In terms of content: weirdly pretentious first person narrators, unnecessary violence and sexual assault, too many song title drops without a reason, obvious plot devices/advancements without sufficient motive, and bone-dry/lifeless descriptions are the heavy hitters. Now that I think about it, anything present in the story that has zero purpose or reason for being there. Every book I’ve ever put down does that.

Thoughts on the whole “Mary Sue” topic?

Eh.

For young writers and those writing purposeful wish fulfillment stories, I say who cares, go for it. You’re learning writing, do what you want; or you’re doing it on purpose, so you know what’s up. I personally don’t like reading them very much because I like a little bit of torment in my fiction. I’ve seen arguments that the main protagonist of my favorite fantasy series is a Mary Sue, which, I mean, sure. But from what I’ve heard, Mary Sues are a bigger problem in RP groups.

You can get so caught up in making sure that your character isn’t a Mary Sue that you forget to make your character interesting. Which is bad. Your character(s) should have a reason for us to be following their story, but there also need to be challenges that they face to make the story interesting and engaging.

A couple Mary Sue qualities aren’t necessarily a bad thing! It only gets sketchy when you load them on like cheese on chili fries.

My 11 Questions:

What is your favorite punctuation mark?

If you write by hand, what is your favorite writing utensil to use? If you write with tech, what is your favorite font to write in? Or if you do both, both!

What is one book/story that hit you right in the heart? Or the book/story that has had the most impact on you?

What’s your favorite sentence/phrase you’ve written? What’s an amazing sentence/phrase someone else has written?

What about a story draws you in?

What are your favorite things/people/events to read or learn about?

What is your favorite word?

Cake or pie?

Do you collect anything? What is it and how many/much do you have?

Do you have a calendar? What kind is it?

Where do you like to sit in a movie theater?

Bilbo Taggins: @cawolters @floralandrogyny @katekyo-bitch-reborn @clarissalopeswriter @agentorange-writes @atbwrites @the-corner-girl @vnsmiles @toboldlywrite @wasting-ink-not-youth @somethingreallydeepandprofound

#writeblr #amwriting #writer #writer tag #about me #brainbox #tag game #11 questions #I got very long-winded my b #long post

[365-money-diary]

DAYS 50 - 56

DAY FIFTY

6:25 AM - Up an at ‘em. It’s vaccine day! The State Farm Stadium is 30 minutes away from my house and I kind of have a history of feeling light-headed and such so I eat a piece of toast before we leave. Prep our water bottles and coffee in our respective hydroflasks and we’re out the door.

7:25 AM - We arrive to the stadium and go through a slew of checkpoints. Unfortunately because of the storms they aren’t giving out plus ones today so we will try for K again when I get my second. The process is pretty easy and we are out of there in 30 minutes. I get the Pfizer vaccine. :) 

8:30 AM - K and I take a walk since I still have some time before work starts. 

10:00 AM - Today is going to be super easy workwise so I just kind of take my time easing into it. I start to feel some tingles from the shot as well as arm soreness. Nothing I can’t handle though! 

12:00 PM - Annual charge for my recipe plugin comes through for my blog. Heat up broccoli fried rice for lunch. $49.00

2:00 PM - My arm is starting to hurt but nothing I can’t handle. Eat pretzels.

4:00 PM - Ditch work early to take a walk to the lake. Bring wine in a hydroflask to just sit and enjoy the weather. I chat with T on the way and then FaceTime with H who says he’s moving to Philly. Super bummed honestly. DJing with him is one of my favorite things on this planet.

6:00 PM - Arrive home to find a sleepy K. My arm is really hurting at this point and we decide to take a nap.

7:30 PM - Wake up feeling groggy and in pain. Remember they advised drinking water before taking Tylenol so I down 48 ounces and actually start to feel better. Heat up a Big Sur Breakfast burrito for dinner and K and I watch the first 30 minutes of Uncut Gems. K’s brother hits him up to play RocketLeague and so he breaks away to that and I watch more of The Challenge.

11:30 PM - I am tired of being awake and would just rather be asleep.

DAY FIFTY TOTAL: $49.00

DAY FIFTY-ONE

8:30 AM - Wake up feeling like my body has been doing work to fight something, but without any external symptoms (fever, chills, fatigue) minus my sore arm. Continue hydrating and make a chemex.

9:00 AM - I can’t really work on the trim today as planned because of my arm, so I decide to work on my blog instead. 

11:00 AM - Make pancakes and hashbrowns for breakfast.

2:30 PM - Post a recipe for Greek Salad. The Internet seems to be receptive which is nice… my last few recipes have flopped. Finish The Ruins. Actually bummed Sara & KellyAnne didn’t win. Evan, Kenny, and Johnny suck and needs to rot in hell. Make a giant bowl of popcorn.

5:00 PM - Drop off a ball and a tube to a friend who is starting to take Pure Barre classes again. Walk back and then K and I walk to the lake with the dog. Feels like the best thing we’ve done all day tbh. My arm still hurts too much to exercise so this is the best it’s gonna get.

7:45 PM - Arrive home and roast potatoes for buffalo chicken sandwiches. I’ll definitely be shooting this for the blog.

8:00 PM - It’s one of those nights where I already did everything and I’m tired of screens. I reached out to a friend a few days ago for book recs and I pick one from the list called The Guest List. Buy it on kindle. $16.40

9:30 PM - I’m already ready to start a new season of The Challenge. This one is Fresh Meat II. Can’t believe Darrell gets eliminated on the first episode. Dang.

10:45 PM - K and I decide we’re tired and that it’s time for beddie. My body is definitely ready for sleep. 

DAY FIFTY-ONE TOTAL: $16.40

DAY FIFTY-TWO

8:30 AM - Wake up feeling pretty rested. Definitely a lot better today. Arm is mildly sore. Might be able to ride the bike or play DDR today. Maybe modify Pure Barre but probably not. Take a shower for the first time since Thursday because I usually shower after I exercise and that hasn’t happened in a while… hah.

9:00 AM - My kettle has been here for a few days but I haven’t broken it out of the shed yet. Unbox the beauty, give it a little rinse and make my first cup of coffee. I like how quiet it is and how little space it takes up. 10/10.

10:15 AM - I notice I still have a half block of tofu leftover so I make tofu/egg tacos for breakfast with Field Roast Sausage, mushrooms, onions, and jalapenos.

11:15 AM - Clean the kitchen and prep for shooting. I am feelin’ the vibes from my last post so I don’t want to lose motivation. Make miso butter pasta since it’s really all I can swing with the ingredients in my pantry. 

1:15 PM - Finish shooting and import the photos into my library while watching The Challenge in the background. Decide might as well start editing. I don’t have much else going on and I’m again, feeling motivated.

4:30 PM - K goes on a drive and I decide to play DDR. My arm is not ready for barre but it can dangle a bit while I stomp on some arrows. I decide I really want to learn Afronova on heavy which is something I never was really able to pass consistently in my youth. It’ll be a good thing to work toward over the next few weeks.

5:30 PM - Pour a glass of wine and hop on zoom with K’s family. It’s nice to see them.

7:30 PM - Make buffalo chicken sandwiches for dinner with potatoes.

9:00 PM - Walk to the lake with K. 

12:00 AM - Finish my entire post for miso butter noodles. I don’t think I’ve ever shot and posted something in the same day. Exhausting! Hah

DAY FIFTY-TWO TOTAL: $0

DAY FIFTY-THREE

8:00 AM - Pure barre charge. Make a chemex. And eat half a bagel with earth balance and nooch for breakfast. Also get charged for my automatic payment to Amazon for iron pills $27.93

9:00 AM - Today is my officemate’s birthday. My boss and I pitched in to get her a Lululemon gift card. $35

12:00 PM - Leftover miso butter noodles for lunch with air-fried broccoli.

5:00 PM - Today was honestly exhausting but I am ready to move. Play a few games of DDR and then do a barre class. 

7:00 PM - Rinse off and make the last of the buffalo chicken sandwiches. We’re very excited for groceries tomorrow hah.

9:30 PM - Buy a phone tripod. I suck at doing videos one-handed and I know I can grow my pages like bananas if I can actually shoot the content correctly. I apply the gift card my boss got me for building her website so this is on the house. 

DAY FIFTY-THREE TOTAL: $62.93

DAY FIFTY-FOUR

7:00 PM - Long ass day. Groceries are slated to arrive. Incoming of bell peppers, tomatoes, grapes, tofu, cucumber, broccoli, red onion, limes, lemons, bananas, jalapenos, serranos, clementines, bread, chickpeas, tortilla chips, tortillas, sprouts, potatoes, baby carrots, onions, salsa, cauliflower rice, cilantro, gf mini pretzels, apples, hashbrowns, oat milk, cheese, vegan cheese, brown rice, white rice, gf pasta, spring mix, romaine, tomato paste, dark chocolate, red wine and balsamic vinegar, pineapple, scallions, oregano, shallots, mushrooms, orzo, kale, chipotle peppers, eggs, brown sugar, burger buns, corn, parsley, veggie straws, vanilla bean, asparagus, snap peas, a pound of coffee, plant sausage, plant yogurt, zucchini, radish, cabbage, seltzer, plant yogurt, pasta sauce, plant pizza, jelly, and mustard. $350.86

8:00 PM - Eat red lentil pasta for dinner.

DAY FIFTY-FOUR TOTAL: $350.86

DAY FIFTY-FIVE

1:00 PM - Done with meetings for the day. My brain hurts. Hah make salad (bbq chicken, spring mix, carrots, bell pepper, onion, corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, and ranch is the combo for the week), drink seltzer, tryyyy to calm down. 

3:40 PM - Actually hoping no one bothers me for the rest of the day. Change into workout clothes and sneak in my last barre class for the challenge. 

6:00 PM - Get charged for CBS all access. Craving a cocktail instead of wine. Pick some grapefruits from the backyard, text J to ask how to salt a rim, then make a grapefruit + mezcal drink with a chili-lime salted rim. YUM.  $6.48

7:00 PM - Veggie sandwiches with potatoes is the name of dinner for the next few days. So good!

DAY FIFTY-FIVE TOTAL: $6.48

DAY FIFTY-SIX

8:30 AM - Make a chemex and “get to work.” Today is super slow. I finish the last of my outstanding tasks, make 2 batches of chex mix which I regret because K says he won’t be eating any since he’s trying to avoid salt. Snack on that and then make salad for lunch.

1:30 PM - Literally no one has pinged me so I take the opportunity to play some DDR. I play for nearly an hour before anyone bothers me and nail down the steps to this one section of Afronova at ⅕ the speed. I’ll try ⅖ tomorrow! 

5:30 PM - K and I are both starving so I make us dinner early today. Drink a grapefruit + mezcal cocktail after din.

8:30 PM - K asks if I’ll walk to the lake with him and the dog. I kind of don’t want to since I played my heart out already but he asks pleeeassse and I oblige. The walk is really really nice. We even sit near the waterfront for a while watching people do this cheesy skate routine. 

10:30 PM - Make it back. I work on my blog in K’s office while he edits video stuff. I have The Challenge on in the background and finish Fresh Meat II. Only 11 more seasons before I can cancel my membership! Hah.

DAY FIFTY-SIX TOTAL: $0

[imaginarybird]

Because Reasons

@frankchurchillsaysrelax requested Emmett and Elle from Legally Blonde+enemies to friends to lovers+girl/boy next door+High School/College/Teacher AU... And this was born.

It’s not that Emmett hates his new co-chair of the history department on principle (although the position was supposed to be his and his alone this year). It’s not even that he hates her for constantly parking her car in his unofficial parking spot, or for always playing the most ridiculously upbeat pop music in her office that shares a wall with his, or even that she doesn’t believe in written exams and only uses glittery feather topped pens that write in pink ink.

No, the real problem is that her proposal for a student-run news magazine garners at least five times the student interest as his debate team proposal. And when she gets voted the head of the senior send-off committee--a position he’s held with pride for years as the de facto young staff member. And when all of his students start trying to transfer from his classes in favor of hers, and when that doesn’t work, they start attending her after school study sessions instead of his.

All of this coming together, along with her renting the house next door to his so there’s literally no getting away from her… that’s what makes it impossible to stand Elle Woods.

“Emmett, so glad you can join us.” Elle says from the front of the classroom where the senior send-off committee meeting is taking place before school starts, where she’s writing some bullet points on the whiteboard with one of her signature pink markers. “Don’t worry, you’re only ten minutes late so all you’ve really missed is the summary of the last meeting.” 

Reason #24 Emmett tries to avoid dealing with Elle at all costs: she’s always so… perky. Even when she’s being passive aggressive, or downright cutthroat when they’re arguing, Elle is smiling. She’s sweet and smiling and powerful and beautiful and it’s just not normal.

He clenches his jaw as he answers. “The staff parking lot was full.” Because she had pulled into it about fifteen seconds before him and taken his spot. “I had to go to the public lot on the other side of campus.”

“Oh, you should plan ahead next time.” She offers. “It must take about...ten minutes or so to drive over there and walk back.”

“You don’t say.”

The meeting progresses as they always do--everyone presents their ideas, he and Elle snark at each other, everyone likes Elle’s ideas best, he tries to point out the implausibility or the impropriety of doing something like throwing a casino night for a bunch of graduating high schoolers and gets ignored, they snark some more, and somehow he ends up getting volunteered to cover Elle’s detention duty for the month so she can focus her energy on planning the entire venture, starting this afternoon.

Reason # 25: Somehow she can convince anyone to do what she wants. Even when it’s inconvenient for them and they don’t want to do it at all.

He’s in an awful mood for the rest of the day, and because he has to supervise detention, he gets on the road late to head back upstate for his mom’s birthday dinner. Most of the drive is spent mentally cursing Elle’s name because it was her detention duty to begin with and it’s his fault that he ended up taking it and getting stuck in rush hour, and getting to his mom’s nearly an hour later than he had promised.

Even after the dinner, after a nice night with his mom, he’s stuck driving back in the driving rain so it’s dark and miserable and tense and slow again and Emmett can’t help but think somehow that that’s Elle’s fault too.

It would be just like her to be able to control the weather.

Reason # 26.

He finally gets home and all he wants to do is crawl into bed but he can’t. The neighborhood is lit up like the Fourth of July with the flashing blue and red lights of several police cars. And they’re all gathered in the driveway and on the lawn next to his.

Emmett’s heart jumps up into his mouth in the moments between figuring out where all the cops are and spotting Elle’s blonde hair and pink trench coat amongst the crowd and realizing that whatever had happened, she was all right. He feels sick anyways as he gets out of his car and takes in the whole scene.There are broken windows, the front door is barely on its hinges...he can only imagine what the inside of the house must look like… How scared Elle must be if she were inside.

Reason # 27: She’s not despicable enough. He can’t stand her and yet he’s worried about her anyway. How is any of this fair?

With a slight sigh he gets out of his car, upturning the collar of his jacket against the rain and crosses over to Elle’s lawn, just to ask the police what exactly had happened.

Elle spots him before he can even get a word out and rushes over; she pulls him into a hug that lasts far too long considering they’ve only ever shaken hands before and he thinks maybe, possibly, that she might be crying onto his shoulder.

Completely unsure of what to do, Emmett uses one hand to pat Elle on the back. Once, then twice, and she pulls away before he can go for a third tap.

“Oh my god, Emmett it’s awful. I got home and someone had broken in! The house is a disaster, my things are all over the place or missing…”

“So you weren’t inside when it happened? You’re OK?”

“I’m fine.” Elle nods, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whoever it was broke in while I was at the grocery store. They were gone by the time I got back. Which is too bad because I took four years of krav maga in college and I would have been more than happy to dust off my skills if I had found the skeezy jerk who painted such a disgusting message in my room.”

It takes a second for Emmett to parse out the most important information there. “Wait, you went in the house? Before the police got here?”

“Of course! I had to see if they had taken anything.”

Reason # 28: She has positively no sense of self-preservation.

But Emmett can barely contemplate it before one of the police officers comes over, provides Elle with a rundown of what they’ve found thus far, and tells her she’ll need to find a place to stay for the night. Elle looks suddenly small again, soaked from the rain and more than a little nervous about the whole affair. His mouth and brain refuse to communicate on the matter.

“She can stay with me.”

Gaining a roommate in Elle Woods is an experience unto itself. 

She critiques the contents of his shower (“Emmett, grown men do not only have a bar of soap and a bottle of Head and Shoulders to bathe themselves with”). She borrows clothes. She makes breakfast.

She makes good breakfast.

Reason # 29: She’s good at everything she tries. Who does that?

It’s actually kind of frustrating to share a living space with Elle. Because the longer Emmett is around her, the more time they spend in the same room doing their respective grading, the more conversations she drags out of him, the more cleanly scented products that seem to find their way into his bathroom, the more he realizes she’s kind of… nice. And caring. And if she does control the weather she’s probably only doing it better the world of the people around her.

Reason # 30 Elle Woods is the actual worst: She’s not the worst at all and Emmett’s going to have to admit (if only to himself) that he was, in at least a few different ways, wrong about her.  

Before too long--maybe three or four days into what was going to be a one night stay--Emmett and Elle are actually sharing stories about themselves and laughing together in more than a ‘I can’t tolerate you but we’re colleagues so I’ll pretend that you’re super funny’ kind of way.

And then they start eating lunch together. Sharing a living space and being a friend to the environment (“I’ll have you know that one of my first acts when I was put in charge of my Delta Nu chapter was to get our house put on solar power. We have a responsibility to care for our planet, Emmett.”) means that they start commuting so he gets his parking space back, sort of.

“I’m glad to see you and Ms. Woods are finally working past your differences.” The headmaster says one day as he and Emmett walk out of a staff meeting where Emmett and Elle had found themselves in agreement on every issue and teaming up on more than one occasion to argue their points. “The history department, and indeed the school will be a finer place for your friendship.”

Emmett’s not entirely sure that he and Elle are friends or if they’ve finally just realized that the things they were finding annoying about each other are a little more endearing when they got to know each other, but he does know that when the repairs on Elle’s house are finished and she officially has no more excuses to stick around at his place, the morning he wakes up and there’s not a blonde doing tae bo in his living room while bacon fries in the kitchen, the house feels like something is missing.

The school year continues and at a certain point Emmett knows for certain that he and Elle are definitely friends. He would never in a million years let someone who wasn’t his friend go through his wardrobe and replace all the clothes that make him look like a quote-unquote ‘scruffy fuddy-duddy’(“Emmett, you’re a history teacher at a prep school in his thirties, the kids will take you more seriously if you don’t dress like an ivy league philosophy professor from 1973”). 

This doesn’t mean he stops hating her--reason # 33: she signs every text message with a heart emoji and he’s pretty sure she actually means it--but his feelings of hate stop being that jaw-clenching, boiling sensation in his gut and start feeling a lot more… fluttery. Like someone shakes up a warm bottle of champagne and lets it explode all over him, leaving him comfortable and tingly and on edge all at the same time.

That’s what hating Elle Woods feels like now that they’re friends.

It’s a feeling that seems to grow every time she throws her head back in laughter or settles down to do some serious work, throwing on reading glasses and chewing on the end of a pen cap.

He’s not sure that he likes being friends with Elle--his inner grump doesn’t know what to do with himself now that everything she does is kind of endearing rather than being the most annoying thing on the planet--but they keep getting closer regardless. Elle has a way of doing that. Of knowing the right things to say and being adorable and actually being really helpful when he needs it. They’re constantly spending time together and as much as he hates her, he doesn’t really hate it at all.

Maybe that’s why it stings so much when Elle announces that she’ll be spending her summer break back in her home of Malibu. Because he’s gotten used to spending time with her and they’ve built a good working relationship and he had just assumed that she’d be working with him at the school’s summer program too. It’s definitely not because he’s going to miss her.

Except the more he thinks about it, the closer they get to the end of the year and the more she talks about her trip, the more Emmett starts to consider that it might be.

Reason #34: He’s going to miss her. 

Well, that’s just not going to work.

Emmett’s used to having people in his life not stick around so this shouldn’t be a big deal, particularly since she’ll come back in the fall but for some reason it feels like it is. Only he can’t say anything because that definitely won’t work so he can do nothing but go back to clenching his jaw and biting his tongue whenever he’s around her. He just needs to put a little distance back between them; after all you can’t miss someone that you’re not close with so if he stops sharing with her, stops finding her jokes so funny, stops wanting to be her friend...a summer without her won’t be so bad.

“Would you stop being weird?”

Of course...Elle notices and she’s not one to keep quiet about what she notices and when they’re chaperoning prom a couple of weeks before graduation she gives him an exasperated look while they count the King and Queen Ballots.

“What?”

“Stop being so weird.” She repeats abandoning her work. “It’s been a couple of weeks and I can’t think of a single thing that I’ve done to bug you lately, and we only have a couple weeks left before I leave for the summer, so either tell me what I did so I can apologize and we can go back to the way things were or...stop acting like a butthead!”

“A butthead?” Emmett sputters over the insult, unable to believe that it’s what Elle landed on. Not even his students use such...silly benign put-downs. He’s oddly offended that she didn’t pick something better. “You think I’m a butthead?”

“I think you’ve got a lot of butthead tendencies.” She huffs. “Your stubbornness and inability to say what you’re actually thinking being two of them.”

“How do you know I don’t say what I’m thinking?”

“Because if you did, you’d tell me why you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you Elle, I’m gonna miss you!”

Oh.

Oh, she’s good. She’s really good.

Emmett doesn’t even realize what he’s said until a second or two afterwards when Elle is staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

“You’re gonna miss me?”

Angry with himself for letting the feelings he’s been trying to bury out so easily, and more than a little embarrassed because this is not the sort of thing he does or the kind of conversation he has ever but if he refers back to reason #25...it’s somehow impossible to not give in to her, Emmett feels his cheeks heat up and looks to the side at the start of his answer. “Of course I’m going to miss you. It’s actually infuriating how much I’m going to miss you. Everything you do is annoying and yet somehow adorable at the same time and it’s not fair because we were not friends and we were never going to be but you wormed your way into my life anyways and now it’s impossible to think about what my summer’s going to be like without you force-feeding me quinoa salads and buying me ties that cost more than my car payment because you think they’ll bring out my eyes and not getting to see you crinkle your nose when you get frustrated because I’m fighting you on all of that and--,”

Elle leans across the table, cupping his face in her hands. She presses her lips to his, smiling as she pulls away. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

Oh.

Oh.

Reason # 35 Emmett Forrest hates Elle Woods: He doesn’t hate her at all.

#legally blonde #fanfiction #elle woods #emmett forrest #this got away from me #a ficlet can be 2500 or so words right? #anyway #this is more based on the characterization in the musical than in the movie #because I like that emmett so much better #punintended #writing games #ficlet #?

[shift-shaping]

dwc: 📚 library sex for Solas and Surana :)

Glimpses: A Quiet Evening Alone

@dadrunkwriting

Rating: M

Genre: Romance

Verse: Confessions of a Teacher’s Pet

Pairing: Solas x Surana

Warnings: Teacher x student, age gap

Lonely, emotionally conflicted, and chronically anxious, Eirwen hides away deep in the recesses of her school’s library. But her own thoughts invade her privacy, and she finds herself unable to resist testing the boundaries of her relationship with the professor she’s pining over. 

Eirwen stretched back over the armrest of the old leather chair and yawned deeply. The arms were too high for her to sit on it naturally, so she laid across it lengthwise like a bed. As her back straightened, the pile of books and papers in her lap fell to the floor in a heap. She groaned and sank back into the chair, glaring at her fallen study material as if it had betrayed her.

She’d been reading for hours, trying to get as much information into her brain as possible before her test in two days. It seemed so close, uncomfortably close, and her quiz grades left her feeling unprepared. As a mage and an elf, she was on a short leash at the university, and her athletic scholarship was dependent on her maintaining a 3.7 GPA or above -essentially all As, with only a few very minor mistakes allowed.

As of last semester she had a 3.9, but doing poorly in her Genetics class could put her in serious jeopardy. She was an excellent student, she knew that, but every good grade she had was earned after dealing with anti-mage and anti-elf prejudice from almost every professor she had. 

It had been a long time since she took a break, though. She sat in the depths of the library, tucked away into a corner she was confident few knew about. If she could muster up the motivation she could go get something to eat, but she was too anxious and too tired for that.

With a soft grunt she reached down and pulled her phone from her pile of things on the floor. The little blue light blinked incessantly, and when she woke it up she saw she had a new text. 

[4:14pm] Hahren: I prefer bodyweight work. It requires little space and minimal equipment.

She raised an eyebrow, scrolling up briefly to remember how they got on to this discussion. That naturally made her recall what she’d been thinking about before she buried herself in her work: her philosophy professor’s incredible arms. 

Earlier that day he’d worn a button-down shirt and pulled up the sleeves, revealing his tight, well-muscled forearms. Eirwen couldn’t take her eyes off them, thoroughly distracting her from whatever the lesson was supposed to be. They were already more than just a teacher and student -they messaged each other frequently, spent over an hour in his office most afternoons, and often went out for lunch or coffee together. He even helped her calm down when she was having a panic or anxiety attack. 

Whatever they were, it only made her attraction to him worse.

She shifted in her seat and looked around, a horrible idea worming its way into her head. She really was alone here, and it was so quiet in the library. Maybe she could use a quick distraction, just something to satiate her mind for a couple of minutes before returning to work.

Since realizing her attraction to him, Eirwen had developed a neat and tidy string of content for her horribly inappropriate mind. First there were pictures, mostly men in dress shirts and women in schoolgirl outfits. Stupid, but it helped. She had a folder of pictures on her phone that went from vaguely sexual to fully nude and definitively pornography. This time she only intended to look at the less explicit shots, the ones that could hopefully feed her curiosity without requiring her to take action. 

If only she had pictures of him. That would be creepy, super creepy, but Maker she would love being able to look at him whenever she wanted. He was so handsome, so frustratingly kind and wise and sweet that she found herself longing for him far more often than she should. She could almost picture him right now, walking toward her, finding her in this quiet corner of the library and just kissing her when she least expected it.

Thinking about him like that was so wrong. So inappropriate. No matter how much time they spent together, no matter how many times he complimented her hair or gulped when he saw her in a short skirt or held her gaze for just a second too long, he was still ultimately her teacher.

But he was so handsome. And his arms looked so strong. She imagined him pinning her to her seat, muscles flexing as he looked deep into her eyes. Then he would crash his lips into hers, his free hand moving under her back to hold her close to him. 

She imagined his fingers, soft and strong, sliding up her back to unhook her bra. His lips looked so kissable, so warm and inviting, and feeling them on the bare skin of her neck would surely drive her wild. She’d have to be quiet, even as he slipped his tongue against her neck, his voice low and teasing as he reminded her where they were.

She squeezed her eyes shut and let her head roll back, feeling her nipples harden in her shirt and wetness surge between her legs. Damn her imagination. She couldn’t do this here, not where someone could theoretically walk in on her. 

She covered her warm face and groaned inwardly, her ears drooping in frustration. This was a disaster -she was a disaster. She had to decide whether she wanted to do something or nothing, whether she would let this burn or fade away. No matter what, it couldn’t simmer like this.

So she took a deep breath and made a bad decision.

[7:38pm] Me: Are you busy tonight?

[7:43pm] Hahren: Is something wrong?

She frowned -why did he have to be so sweet all the time?

[7:44pm] Me: Not exactly. I could just use some company and a study break. Have you eaten dinner yet?

[7:45pm] Hahren: No. Why?

[7:46pm] Me: Want to get something quick with me? I can buy it.

It was a long time before he answered her, long enough that she put her phone down and, defeated, went back to her work. She could hardly concentrate though, and only got through two sentences before her phone buzzed again. Naturally, she picked it up so fast she almost dropped her books again.

[8:03pm] Hahren: No need. They don’t pay us so little I cannot afford a meal. Should we meet somewhere?

Her heart almost stopped, and she had to read the message at least three times before she could process it. She didn’t know what she was expecting with that, but it definitely wasn’t this. If she had to bet on this exchange she would have expected a shaky no, something that suggested he wanted to but also knew he couldn’t. 

But this was entirely out of her realm of possibility. She had to answer him; she didn’t think she’d get this far. 

[8:06pm] Me: How close are you to campus? I’m at the library.

[8:08pm] Hahren: Not far. I can pick you up. Do you have a restaurant in mind?

She wracked her brain for an answer that wasn’t embarrassing. Most of the places she ate at were mostly vegetarian, if not entirely, and they were probably pretentious enough for him.

[8:10pm] Me: There’s a place on Piroette that makes incredible veggie burgers. They put eggplant in them. Any interest?

[8:11pm] Hahren: Sure, sounds good. I’ll be outside the library in about twenty minutes. Will you be ready by then?

[8:11pm] Me: Mind if I bring my books?

[8:12pm] Hahren: Hah, what kind of teacher would I be if I did?

Her heart skipped and she sank down in her chair again, eyes wide. This was really happening. She swallowed hard and typed up a quick response, trying to keep herself from panicking.

[8:13pm] Me: A shit one. I’ll see you soon then, hahren.

[8:14pm] Hahren: See you soon, Ms. Surana.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Eirwen put the phone down on top of her backpack and crossed her arms over her lap. This was really happening. It was just a quick dinner, just burgers and fries, but it was still dinner and he was going to pick her up. 

As she shifted to pack her things, she realized with an annoyed frown that her fantasies earlier had made her far more aroused than intended. Fantastic. She was meeting her professor for dinner while absolutely drenched from thoughts of him making out with her. This could only go well. 

if you enjoyed this fic, please hit the reblog button on this post. comments are cool but not necessary -you can leave no tags, a keysmash, or even just 'nice' if you'd like! thanks for your support -arden

#glimpses #dwc #teacher x student #professor solas #solasmance #solas rarepair #solrana #verse: confessions of a teacher's pet #cordkitty-ish #teacher crush #surana is a disaster #she has such a crush on him omg

[splattershotsundae]

Better Eight Than Never --- Chapter 35: Orvokki Vitrel

Warning: The following chapter details gore.

[Entry 1

This is the first entry since that blasted Harlequin incident that my experiments have bared any fruit. As such, I am starting anew. To begin, after that wretch escaped me, I figured I needed to move my plans to the surface, and placed devices which broadcast the ink transfusion signals (Quite an upgrade from the tubes, if I do say so myself) into ink battle arenas. I tried to pick ones that were near large amounts of water… which sure took some doing.

However, as I waited for results, one by one the machines seemed to fail. It is only now, several shifts later, that the surface news has told of a squidling named ‘Yuri Skwidd’ who had clear ink. I was astounded, not only had the machine worked after all, but the subject had survived! The downside is that these results seem to only be temporary, though it might only end upon being splatted. Due to the report… however, this is outshined by the news that not only can he merge with water, it sounds as though he could merge with squidlings themselves, and take control of their bodies.

The uses of this could be limitless, we won’t just have super soldiers, we could have squidlings fight each other in the war! This technology could save thousands of Octarian lives. After giving these results to the lab’s managers, I have been given permission to access the lab’s full potentials once again. Our first mission is to rebuild the machine while soldiers take squidlings from the surface. Hopefully we shall yield further results.

– Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 2

Construction in lab 32 is going agonizingly slowly. Don’t these workers know how to do their job? Which is work? I can see the sweat dripping from their brow, so how come progress has been at a minimum? The only thing keeping me from screaming at them this moment is Olwen’s hand on my shoulder. In one sense, I’m grateful. In another, I am sure the push these fools need is stern words. No matter! While they’re busy attempting to put together the frame to my dream machine, I am overseeing the more delicate parts, as they seem unable to comprehend my genius. I wrote everything down exactly how it is supposed to be done, and yet… ugh. If I made the calls, we wouldn’t be hiring the gunk I scrape off my boots to do such important work! It’s fine. Until we get in our subjects, I would undeniably still be pacing. I hope that the machine shall be recreated for the next shift.

Unlike MK I, MK II attaches to the ceiling or walls, with the subject positioned in front, with their torso in front of the core. The core will replicate pulses like a spawner, and steadily draw their ink from them and replace it with water. However… subject Harlequin still had her skin, organs, everything. Her skin was soft, but still firm. This Yuri… reports say he was water through every fiber of his being. I am uncertain what this could entail.

– Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 3

I couldn’t sleep, and returned to the lab to find the machine was almost complete, and my first subject has arrived! At long last, I can test to my heart’s content! I shall return after the results of my experiment.

Nothing has gone according to plan. Such is the nature of science, I am left thoroughly disappointed. It seems as though someone in this crew assembled my Ink Transfusion machine improperly, so it short circuited and fried a few wires. Not only that, but the core released a pulse which promptly caused the subject, subject 1, to explode into a burst of water. Through analysis it can be concluded she is deceased.

Subject was female, with green ink, type A positive.

One test in, and already I’m wasting squidlings due to incompetence. I will check over the machine myself, and from this point forward, only I or Olwen shall operate it.

– Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 4

Still unable to sleep,  I am quivering with excitement; I have in two more subjects; Subject 2, Male, Orange ink, type B positive, and Subject 3, female, blue, type AB negative.

I have checked the machine at least a dozen times while waiting for Olwen to arrive. She seems concerned for my well being, perhaps she is right. After these experiments I should try harder to rest, a visit to the bathhouse to relax and then back to bed. I asked if she would like to come with me, and of course, she said no. I can’t tell if she thinks I’m joking. Why would I joke? Aside from the fact that we’re furthering technology right in this very room, she is the most important thing in my life.

Regardless, we have now positioned Subject 2 beneath the machine. He’s straining himself against the restraints with all of his might, and seems rather adorable in doing so, though such an action is dealing severe damage to his wrists and ankles. What a fool.

We have turned the machine on, and it is functioning properly, I hear his screams, and I can’t help but smile. That means that it’s working. On more cooperative patients, I’d ask what it felt like, so I could get a better sense of how it was working. He passed out, and a minute later, all that remains is a pool of water on the table. Upon containing the puddle, it began to thrash around and squeak in fear. How adorable. We’ve begun the process with the other squidling, and the results appear positive. Now with two of these things, we must remain cautious. If one of them were to escape and enter one of our brains, the lab might be torn apart.

Subject 3 is much more calm than subject 2, we’ve put her into a larger chamber for analysis, and we shall attempt to revert subject 2 to his previous ink, of which we still have samples of.

Subject 2 has been reverted to orange ink, however he did not survive the process. Either way, this is valuable intel, as his body remained intact. Upon conducting an analysis, the tears in his flesh from pulling against the restraints are all but gone. It is possible that being in this water state has corrected any minor wounds he had. We’ve sent his body to lab 22 for an autopsy, and Subject 3 shall remain under close watch until my return.

– Orvokki vitrel]

[Entry 5

I slept too long, subject 3 died between shifts, but at least we recorded the entire thing. She’s not a puddle like I first thought, she did actually have limbs, and as time went on she began to shrink until she fell apart completely, leaving only a puddle. (For sure this time) It seems that an evaporation process caused her to simply die. I’ve sent what remains of her to undergo analysis, but I suspect that by now she’s merely returned to water.

On the brighter side, they’ve brought me not one, not two, but four new subjects today. I shall continue the naming process as per usual.

Subject 4, Female, Green, A-

Subject 5, Male, Purple, B-

Subject 6, Male, Dark blue, A-

Subject 7, Male, Pink, O+

Now that we have more subjects, I can finally begin implanting. We decided to transfuse subject 7, a process which has left him rather delicate, more so than the others so far. After some deliberation, and much frustration, we managed to secure subject 4 to a table and forced subject 7 into her mind.

I’d never seen an ink reaction like this, even in the thousands of shifts I’ve been working in ink research. Her skin simply dissolved, allowing her flesh to bubble and pop, much like hostile ink. I’ve saved the footage to the journal for reference, and we’ve collected the ink that remained for further testing. We were unable to find subject 7, and so far, subject 4’s ink seems… perfectly normal.  This perplexes me, I must learn more.

Under consulting with Olwen, we decided to turn both 5 and 6 into water. 6 is fairly sturdy in form, and we’re able to make out distinct limbs, whereas subject 5… is perfect. His form is pristine and clearly defined, and he appears to have a fierce spirit. We put the both of them into containment tanks, a true feat in the case of subject 5, who not only appeared to have seen what we did earlier and tried to jump at one of our scientists, but was able to temporarily change into humanoid form. I suspected this was possible, but to see it confirmed… He looks nothing like Harlequin, I wonder if she could even enter another’s mind, her humanoid form had skin and rigidity in a way he simply did not.  Regardless, any further subjects shall be kept in a separate room, perhaps the room where empty containment tanks are stored could be filled instead of left to collect dust. Olwen presses me to sleep, she’s right, under my mask I feel the dark circles, and my nose runs. We added some water to the containment tanks, which should, theoretically keep them alive. Perhaps we should have only transfused one for the time being… It’s too late now, all I can do is sleep and see what happens.

--Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 6

I can’t see. Never in my life have I felt so… Empty inside.

I can’t stop crying, she’s gone, she’s just gone.

This morning, we went to retrieve subject 5, and he broke out of his container and jumped at Olwen.

He killed her. There was nothing I could do.

I can’t believe that she’s gone. How am I going to keep going without her? She was the one person who meant anything to me, and I’m never going to see her again.

They took her to have an autopsy, and gave me the rest of the shift off, but…

I wish we’d done more together. There was so much we could have done once the surface was ours.

We could have even gone up now, I was tempted to ask her today, if she wanted to go up to the valley and look at the real sky. But she…

I feel like… nothing.]

[Entry 7

They brought me more subjects while I was away, but I hardly care. They can fill out most of the operations themselves…

It’s not that people around me haven’t died before, it’s just… this once, the shift-long grieve doesn’t feel long enough. How can I let go of her in this short of time? They expect me to be focused under these circumstances? How can they keep working while she’s gone? I’m listening to some audio I took of her, a long time ago, over and over and over again, but it’s not enough. How can this, and a few pictures, be all I have left of someone so full of life?

Subject 6 has been put into another subject without my authorization, what could go wrong? Well, the two fell unconscious, and nothing anyone can do will rouse them. For once it feels as though I won’t succeed. Olwen always cared more about me than my projects. She wouldn’t want me to simply give up, would she?… What if she’d been hesitant in the past, but never told me?

They came to me, and told me the results of the autopsy of my dear, sweet, Olwen. Her brains had all been torn to pieces, and then he’d done as much damage to the rest of her body as he could, they couldn’t even find one of her lungs.

It doesn’t feel fair to have to see this. To see what he’s… done to my beloved. The ooze seeping from her body...

I’m taking another shift off, sick leave.

I can’t do this.]

Bato was pulled from the journal by the sound of snapping fingers, and looked down to see Stacey trying to get his attention. “Huh, what?”

"What’s going on?" She asked. "I've been trying to get your attention for like, five minutes."

"Oh..." He'd temporarily forgotten about their current situation. "This mask, it has these... entries? Like, a scientist's journal sort of thing. And they're about these... experiments, that they've been doing on inklings, trying to recreate what happened to Yuri."

Stacey grimaced. "Of course... Well, you seem to have turned the lights on with that thing... it can probably open the door. I... Don't think I'm ready to go anywhere yet though. You doing alright? You look shaky."

Bato nodded a bit, lifting the helmet a bit and wiping his forehead, "Some of these entries… they were dealing with some… dark stuff.” He explained, groping behind him for the table and leaning against it for a second, "... Toda and the twins were lucky... I've only read through seven of these and I can already tell that it could've been so much worse..."  He frowned, thinking about this Olwen person… He felt like he was intruding on some very personal things by reading this… but if there was going to be information about where his friends were, he had to.

Stacey winced. "I’d offer to read it.. But at this point, I don't think we should risk you taking that off. If you have low clearance, the fact that you can use that might be a fluke."

"I think you're right." He agreed. "It almost didn't let me in to begin with but..." He shrugged, Hachi must've messed with his mask quite a bit in order to let him use it. He took a deep breath, "Let me know when you're ready to go." He said, as he opened Entry 8.

[Entry 8

I can’t. I can’t keep acting like this. She’d want me to keep going. But how can I? I’m still sick, so I decided to look over the ink samples this shift… as well as my own. There’s always been an irregularity in my ink I haven’t been able to identify… But I think I found something. Something that my ink has in common with the ink of subject…. 5.

The fact that I have anything in common with that hideous muck worm makes me nauseous… If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him myself.

No, I’d kill the person who meant the most to him.

A child, a spouse, a mother, anyone.

Can’t I still do that?

There would be no way I can find them… but if we storm the surface, there’s a chance that my revenge will be carried out by my work.

I’m prepared to take a gamble, and I won’t tell anyone what I’ve done, unless it’s a success.

Not even you, my journal.

--Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 9

I can’t feel my body]

[Entry 10

I’m still alive… I banked on that connection between mine and subject 5’s ink, and I’ve emerged victorious. My body is made of water, which admittedly makes it hard to write in my journal now, but other good things are happening, it feels as though I’m finally being taken seriously. No, I know I’m being taken seriously, there’s talk of a sponsorship from Ophelia, and I may get as many test subjects as I need. They’re going to adapt the facility to my needs, to allow me to travel through the pipes. Walking around like normal causes me to lose pieces of myself on the floors. I’m also being reassigned to lab 26, maybe for the best… the old one is… highly traumatic. That’s the only way I can say it, I don’t want to go back in there, I can still see her dying face.

I don’t recognize my voice, no longer low and smooth it’s… like a gurgle. Some people can’t even understand me, and they’re terrified of me, which in a way I like, but… I feel so alone, without her here…

Beside me…

In a way, I’ve become what killed her.

Did I ever deserve someone like her?

--Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 11

Subject 6, and the subject she was implanted in, have both finally died, so it was time I took their place, and got in-depth with the minds of these squidlings. I was put into the mind of subject, apparently 11, and attempted to control them. With their singular brain, I had no idea which spots controlled what, so I simply wriggled around, and soon I felt them dying around me, so I jumped out, which was difficult, the rig is set up so it’s hard to escape… but it feels as though that may be why I’m still alive, while subject 11 is now dead. I don’t understand why this is, but it might be something to look into.

Oh no, I forgot to grab an ink sample from subject 11 before they died. Shit. I need to stay focused. I’ve ordered ink sample collections from every single test subject as soon as they enter the facility. I must find more links between these ink samples.

--Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 12

I’m glad that I’ve always kept a journal as an outside mask, because it’s occurred to me now that… should I die, my journal would simply dissolve if it was on my main mask. I’ve saved everything I have of Olwen to it now, just in case. She should never be forgotten.

Onella, my sister, has been hounding me however, Says I’m not acting the same. It’s not like her to care, I don’t understand what this is.

Regardless of her intrusions, I’m currently overseeing the remodeling of my new house inside the laboratory. It feels empty, but I need a more permanent bed than a bucket of water. They are supplying me with an entire pool.

Most of what I did today was compare samples. This irregularity… it seems to be consistent with purple inks, but none are as close to mine in this way as subject 5… Why am I the closest thing to that slime ball? That murderer? That…

If I don’t embrace this, it will eat me alive.

--Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 13

I transfused two purple squids today, and I’m beginning to let these samples be public record so they don’t have to be mixed with my personal thoughts. We did two experiments today, one in which the squid could escape its host, and one where they could not. The one who could escape was the only survivor out of all of them. So if I escape a host, even if they are dying, I can live. Quite valuable information.

We took the survivor, and put them into another mind, of a different color ink, and… different results emerged. I’ve given authorization for them to continue using this squid while I performed my own experiments. I allowed myself to be dropped into the mind of a squidling and, to my surprise, they retaliated against my efforts inside their brain, so I fought back, physically, I made them claw at their skin, and bite off their own tongue, and worst of all---] Bato swallowed and exited that entry, sweat pouring off of his brow. Dear Judd, he couldn’t imagine the horror that poor person must have felt, or what could have been worse. He didn’t have time to read every entry, he decided, just to give himself an excuse so he wouldn’t have to read something like that again, and proceeded to skim the rest.

And he was glad that he did, these entries detailed the gore, more and more graphically each time. She’d begun to have her subjects put into a special room so that way they wouldn’t be bound, but still couldn’t escape. She’d been made an elite due to the amount of damage she could cause to a person being ‘elite level skill’. She was mad that she couldn’t wear the kelp, as it sank right through her.

A few entries later, he paused. This entry was different.

[Entry 19

I have finally assembled a chart, of how the ink of the subjects effects this process.

Transfusion subjects; Purple ink is the best suitable subject for this, and as of now it’s the only subjects I want from the surface, as it contains a protein which can withstand the process. I get the honor of naming it, but I’ve yet to decide…  Regardless, other ink colors don’t have this, and as a result, they are unstable, and may have less control or fall apart entirely.

As for being a host, the color seems to be a determining factor as well; the darker the ink color, the more dense it is, and the harder it is for the infiltrator to manipulate. Purple ink seems to have an innate resistance, perhaps because of this same protein. If a host and an infiltrator have ‘rival colors’, the two will begin to dissolve, such as Pink and Green, Orange and Blue… Purple and Green also seem to count as rival colors, but the repercussions might put them on level footing. I don’t understand it.

What I need is more proof, I need the survivors of Yuri, as I have yet to be left with a surviving host.

--Orvokki Vitrel]

He skimmed some more before something else struck his interest, entries from the past few days.

[Entry 22

We found one. Today we finally found one of Yuri’s victims, I will be calling him Y-1, and I’ll be taken up there as soon as possible. However… We are unsure how to best do that… as putting my water body through a kettle would… boil me. I’m not sure how that would effect me, would I even survive? There are plans of having a guard take me up in a containment tank, but even that might be risky. We may have to bring the squid down here. That should be fine.

I’m furious. We were so close, but apparently Orion decided to leave him on the surface so he could do one of his ‘revenge’ things against one of the sea sirens. I have a revenge to fulfill as well, over here! Not to mention not only do I have Onella pestering me to let her in on everything, but Ophelia breathing down my neck and rushing my progress so it’s hard to get anything done. What can’t wait a few more shifts?

… She has a voice though, as sweet as Olwen’s…

I must get close to her, I’ll do whatever it takes to record some sounds from Ophelia She’s the closest I have to my one true love…

…

Perhaps the fact that I sit here and write so much is why she is getting testy. Doesn’t she realize how this is a vent? I’d never say any of this to her, of course, I want to keep my tentacles.

– Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 23

They’re all dying. I’ve been in so many today, I’ve killed a dozen squidlings, a fact which I’ll go into more detail in a moment, but… I’m still no closer, and Orion is ignoring my orders to pick up the fucking squidlings I need. It’s not fair, You’re supposed to respect me you big-headed lump of slime. I need to go to another one, I need to rip them apart! I’m so mad!!

To make everything worse, just because Onella’s in on this project now, she thinks she gets to call the shots! I hate her! I hate everything!

--Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 24

Orion’s told me that some defect made her way back to the domes, she’s been in contact with Yuri’s hosts. She was able to bring down an ink sample from one of them, thanks to being around his tank.

I’ve examined it.

He’s… He has the same irregularity as mine. As subject 5. As my sister.

I need him. I need him now. There are so many questions that need to be answered.

--Orvokki Vitrel]

[Entry 25

The ‘splatfest’ happened, and not only did we get more purple test subjects than I could ever use, but…  finally, we know right were Yuri’s hosts are. They’re here. In this very building, and I’ve just finished dealing with Y-1, and as of now, he’s the first subject I’ve ever left alive. My approach was all wrong. I was… flailing, and wriggling, I never considered fight fire with fire. Attack him with thoughts, my thoughts, his own thoughts. Act like… not like I’m a pilot, but that I was him. It was my body. It felt so… powerful, and soon I shall test with another survivor what I’ve learned… though… these three hosts, know each other, and I have plans for implanting one into another. Perhaps the connection between them will herald different results. I may not have too much more time for experimentation, hearing news that someone I controlled remained alive, we’ve been given a go ahead from Ophelia, and she’ll be sending a very special squidling my way shortly.

In addition… there was a ping on the squid who matched my ink, but he’s… gone. Someone stole him from right under my nose. I was so close, and I need him back! This is personal now, I’ve sent people looking for this thief, and I will stop at nothing to find my specimen. Someone is actively trying to thwart me, I feel…

I’ll find you, squidling.

--Orvokki Vitrel]

Bato found himself gripping the table, shudders running down his back. She… She needed him…. She needed him. There was something weird about his ink? Weird how? He felt light headed, and frightened, and he made himself take a deep breath. Toda was alive… and when this had been written, Jill and Simon had been alive as well… but who could say how well they were doing… What sort of irregularities did his ink have?

Focus. He began to run his hands over his tentacles. If he wasn’t here, where was she? Probably lab… which one? 26? If he had more clearance with her mask, could he see where that was? He pulled up the map, which flickered and then cleared up. He frowned as he looked the map over, noting that the lab was quite a ways away, but he was able to bookmark it so his mask could give him better directions. Turned out it was a GPS as well.

He was shaken from his thoughts by a gurgle of water, and he stiffened, looking over at the pool, and seeing that it was beginning to fill with more water. A thick clump came out of the pipe in a rather un-water-like fashion, and he swallowed. Oh no, it was her. He glanced down at Stacey, realizing for the first time that she’d fallen asleep. She must be exhausted, but… he had to wake her. “Stacey!” He hissed as he knelt down.

She groaned and opened her eyes, squinting.

“Squid!” Bato hissed. “I can carry you in my helmet.” He said, flipping it over like a bucket. As she transformed, he helped her into the helmet, not taking his eyes off the pool as a rippling woman made of water arose. He quickly stood as she approached, free hand hovering near his ink tank. "So, you're Orvokki, I assume?" He asked, carefully edging toward the door.

"What are you doing here, give me back my journal!" She shouted as she began to rush toward him.

"I'm afraid I need it right now," He said, turning toward the door to unlock it, and then laying a mine down in the doorway as he backed through it. As she drew near the bomb went off, sending splatters of purple ink through her body, and caused her to start steaming.

"SECURITY! LOCKDOWN FACILITY!" She screamed as she stumbled backward, falling over and writhing on the ground in pain. As the door slid shut, the alarms began to blare again, and this time, he was sure it was for him.

“Hold on tight! He grunted, clutching the helmet to his chest as he began to sprint down the halls, following the mask’s instructions through the corridors. He heard Stacey squeak as he made a particularly sharp turn, but as long as she stayed in the helmet, he told himself he wouldn’t stop running.

He heard a gunshot, followed by a ping off his armor, and he grimaced and turned a corner before he was prompted in an attempt to break away from his pursuers. He could hear them shouting and running behind him, but all he could think of was getting this mission completed. “Stacey.” He said, using what breath he could spare. “ They're going to experiment with the others, They’re probably in lab 26. If nothing else, you need to make it.”

She squeaked, and then one of her tentacles weakly swatted his arm. “It’s a worst case scenario, you know th-- AAAHHH!” Bato screamed as a bullet flew through his ear, but he didn’t have time to stop now, and pushed himself to run even faster. He wasn’t even sure if it was possible, but he had to. He dropped another ink mine behind him to deter pursuit, but knew there was only so much he could do, lab 26 was in a corner of the facility, the guards would close in, and he’d have no way to leave soon enough.

He heard another ping off his armor, and he felt once again grateful that Hachi had told him to put this breastplate on the right way around. He turned a corner into one final hall, seeing his goal dead ahead of him. Behind him, he heard a massive explosion which made his ears rang, and probably gave him some sort of degree of hearing loss from it’s intensity.  He stumbled and staggered, having a hard time staying focused, but he had to make it. This door was his only hope. In a daze, he slumped against it, beating his fist against the metal door. “Open! Open! Open!” He shouted as his legs trembled. The second it took for the door to recognize Orvokki’s mask felt like an eternity, but finally it opened, and he stumbled through the door, and made it shut behind him, thinking a very loud ‘YES’ when it asked if he wanted to refuse access to other octolings. As soon as the door closed, there was an explosion on the other side, which dented it and let a small bit of octoling ink ooze through, but other than that, the door remained seemingly solid. Slumping against the wall, he took a moment to feel his left ear, which now had a notch in it, and hurt like all hell. That had been too close…

He did a sweeping look around the room, seeing rows of counters and machinery, and empty space filled with all sorts of threatening looking tools, and he vaguely remembered a few from when he was skimming the journal, a fact which caused him to shudder. On one wall, there was a valve, which had a small basin under it, and then on the far end of the room was a glass wall which allowed him to see into a test chamber that had an inkling resting on a metal bed, with all sorts of equipment pointed at their head. They sort of looked familiar, but his attention was drawn to an octoling scientist, who was looking at him with an expression of horror. He set the helmet down on one of the counters and grimaced, drawing his inkbrush. “We don’t have to fight, let me into that chamber.”

The scientist swallowed, then grabbed a knife off a table and rushed at Bato, thrusting it in a fairly novice fashion.

Bato flicked his brush, causing the scientist to stumble into a pool of ink, and then swiped at their hands to knock the knife away, causing them to yelp and fall over backward as they tried to escape. He huffed and reached up pick up Stacey, only for everything to go black as Orvokki’s journal was cut from the system. He swore under his breath and hurriedly pulled it off, which was just enough time for the scientist to get up and grab the knife again. He dropped the mask and sidestepped to dodge the scientist’s next swing, then spun his brush around and swiped it at the backs of their knees, sending them sprawling onto their back once again. “You done yet?”

The scientist nodded, covering their face with their tentacles.

Bato nodded, and looked back into the chamber, grimacing as the test subject began to look more and more like Simon. Crud. "Get up," He said sternly, prodding the scientist none too gently with the back end of his brush. “And unhook them from the machines, get them out of there!”

The scientist scrambled to their feet and darted over to a control panel, quickly pressing buttons. “It’s waking….” They murmured.

Bato grimaced, casting a brief glance at the door as someone on the other side began to pound at it. He scooped up Stacey and then followed the Scientist over to the panel, lightly poking them with the brush. “Don’t call my friend an it.”

The scientist yelped. "Heheh, Yes! Of course!… Don’t call the brutish squids its, why would I ever do that?” They asked, tone betraying how frightened they were. They twisted a knob, and a door in the wall opened with a hiss as the pressure equalized.

Bato hesitated just a moment, then ran forward, setting Stacey down so he could shake Simon’s shoulder.  “Simon, Simon wake up! Are you alright?”

There was a moment of stillness, then their eyes slowly opened. They took a small shaky breath and whispered to seemingly nobody in particular. "It wasn't just a dream..."

Bato and Toda are Knitter’s characters

Simon, Jill, Hachi, Orvokki and Stacey are Shuckle’s characters.

Splatoon belongs to Nintendo.

Please consider liking or reblogging if you enjoyed, it’s nice to know we’re doing things right.

Shuckle has a patreon if you would like to provide additional support!

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#Better Eight than never #Splatoon #Splatoon OCs #Splatoon fanfiction #Fanfiction #SS Bato #SS Toda #SS Simon #BS Stacey #Octo Orvokki

[thats-so-religious]

“In Thinness We Trust”: Understanding the Quest for Thinness as Religious

“Go ahead, treat yourself.” 

I. THESIS

Weight Watchers released its first televised Super Bowl advertisement in 2015, titled “All You Can Eat” narrated by Breaking Bad star, Aaron Paul. The commercial was reminiscent of the 1980s “This is Your Brain on Drugs” televised anti-narcotics public service announcements (PSAs). However, the scenario presented here is: This is junk food. This is your brain on junk food. Choosing Aaron Paul, who played meth dealer Jesse Pinkman, to deliver the voiceover underscores the analogy between junk food and drugs (AdAge). Meanwhile, on screen, the advertisement quickly flashes through an abundance of guilt-inducing foods, including: candy, donuts, energy drinks, French fries, hamburgers, luxurious desserts, muffins, pizza, popcorn, and soda. The video ends, abruptly, with an identifiable orchestral hit and the camera zooming out on an empty white plate and silverware, with text that reads, “It’s time to take back control”.

Upon first glance, the Weight Watchers ad seems to be a merely clever, albeit insidious, marketing strategy. However, an examination of the Weight Watchers commercial is intended to reveal how it is illustrative of popular culture as religion. This analysis will engage with the functional definition of religion, which recognizes the meaning-making aspects of outwardly non-religious phenomena (Forbes & Mahan 16 - 17). Moreover, the functional definition of religion stresses how religion plays a role in transcending the individual beyond herself and provides a protocol for pursuing the sacred truth (i.e. thinness). In this regard, weight loss rituals and regimens surpass the experience and story of a singular woman. Instead, such rituals reinforce and instil a worldview about women’s bodies (Lelwica 266), anchor identity as binary (skinny or fat), and impart instruction and expectation for how all women ought to live.  

Specifically, my analysis will explore how the pursuit of thinness functions and resembles certain features of a traditional religion, particularly Christianity, by appropriating the language of its dogma. For instance, the dieting theology in the Weight Watchers commercial orients itself towards the worship of an ideal body type, prescribes how life should be lived without temptation in the pursuit of thinness, and adopts a moralistic rhetoric that associates fatness with moral evil, sin, and criminality.

II. CLOSE READING 

Interspersed between images of oily and artificially colourful food, a toned model wearing a bikini stands in front of an ocean sunset. Although the model is holding a sandwich, she is one of the only frames in the commercial whose focal point is not just food. In this moment, the Weight Watchers ad reveals itself to be telling a deeper story than simply advocating for healthier eating habits. Instead, placing a spotlight on the ideally thin female body is similar to “the images of female saints to which historical Christians looked for inspiration” (Lelwica 272). In this regard, images of slender women are divine, as they act as sacred symbols to be revered and emulated in the pursuit of godly thinness. The advertisement quite literally bathes the model in sunshine to illuminate her saintly slenderness and convey to the female audience that her thinness is an icon to live up to. Additionally, the model’s demeanour suggests that achieving the physical transformation from fat to thin holds the promise of a good life, in which each viewer has the potential to be an idol of thinness too.

Herndon’s description of the cure to fatness in “contemporary American weight-loss narratives [as] emphasizing choice, and willpower” (208) is a fundamental tenet of the Weight Watchers commercial. In essence, the advertisement establishes self-control and the shunning of temptation as a principle commandment on how life should be lived in the pursuit of thinness. The notion that “it’s time to take back control” as the advertisement proclaims, sends the message that individuals “should be able to resist ‘endless racks of glazed and creamy goods’” (Herndon 209). By condemning a lack of self-control, the ad insists that fatness is a voluntary choice that can be overcome with enough personal commitment and conviction to disregard the temptation to indulge in sugary foods. In addition, the end messages - “It’s time to take back control” and “Weight Watchers: Help with the hard part” - touting Weight Watchers as a helpful assistant render over-weight individuals inept at caring for their bodies, and in need of continual guidance in their divine struggle for thinness (Moisio & Beruchashvili 860). Moreover, Griffith observes that, “food [has] consistently remained an evil temptation…[individuals] now pray for the grace to stay away from food” (207). This indicates how the pursuit of thinness inspires ritualized practices of self-control and dieting, as well as adjusting one’s attitude towards certain foods. In this way, the countless images of junk food serve as a reminder to resist temptation. Likewise, Lelwica remarks that Christianity has long been concerned about eating and appetite, as “leaders encouraged control of carnal desires (including appetite for food) as a way to cultivate holiness” (269). This points to self-control as a virtuous habit of those who are thin, and those who achieve “it” are assuredly recognized as holy. 

The cornerstone of the religiosity of thinness, as exemplified in the Weight Watchers advertisement, is the depiction and condemnation of obesity as sinful and criminal. The danger and temptation of an uncontainable appetite has its historical roots in two of Christianity’s seven deadly sins, gluttony and greed. Consider the primordial sin of Adam and Eve’s failure to resist their desire for food, which led to their banishment from Eden (Bacon 311 - 312). The commercial highlights a failure to master one’s appetite as a lack of moral integrity by explicitly broadcasting that obesity needs to be controlled and ultimately “banished”. On the other hand, to advance the narrative between drug use (i.e. criminality) and unhealthy eating habits as gluttonous, the ad features Aaron Paul’s/Jesse Pinkman’s voice and is evocative of anti-drug PSAs. To further demonstrate the alarming similarities between obesity and drug use, the commercial uses language indicative of drug culture as gluttonous: “Want to get baked? Glazed? Iced? Fried?” “How much do you want, an eighth, quarter, how about a half?” “If you buy more, I’ll cut you a deal”. As well, the ad employs notorious excuses often associated with greedy drug users and intemperate dieters: “It’s a special occasion”, “It’s a social thing”, “No one’s telling you what to do. I just want you to have a good time…you can stop whenever you want”. Given this, the analogy with drug use connotes fatness (i.e. a distinct lack of thinness) as morally reprehensible and profane.   

III. MEANS OF PRODUCTION 

The 2015 Weight Watchers Super Bowl advertisement “All You Can Eat” was created by Wieden + Kennedy, an American advertising agency, and written by Ansel Wallenfang (AdAge). 

Given that the commercial is for Weight Watchers, an organization that focuses exclusively on weight loss management and dieting, the stakeholders are those who wish to diet or engage in healthier eating habits. More specifically, the ad is targeting those individuals who are overweight. It is my contention that the ultimate target audience is actually overweight women. 

AdAge, an advertising and marketing industry news website, reported that, “Weight Watchers sent a ‘party package’ to 200 women ages 25 to 54 across the U.S. – [both to] members and nonmembers – that included game day decorations and a recipe book”. According to Nielsen, a data analytics company, only 47% of Super Bowl viewers in 2014 and 2015 were women. I am utterly unable to speak for why Weight Watchers chose not to send any of its “party packages” to men, despite their constituting a larger portion of both regular season NFL and Super Bowl viewership (65% and 53% in 2014 and 66% and 53% in 2015, respectively) (Nielsen). 

IV. CONSUMPTION & RECEPTION

The United States weight loss market is worth $66 billion, while online dieting is worth approximately $1 billion, with Weightwatchers.com amassing revenue of almost $350 million in 2016 (Marketdata Enterprises). The organization Weight Watchers is the world’s largest weight loss support group, with membership spanning four continents and more than three million participants globally (Weight Watchers International Inc.). Notably, in the U.S., most of Weight Watchers members are women (Moisio & Beruchashvili 860).

Reception theory maintains that meaning is not merely created and injected into an artifact by its creator, and subsequently imposed onto the audience (Harris). The viewer articulates and negotiates their own meaning (Harris). I cannot directly address how this advertisement was received by consumers. Nonetheless, given the enormity and pervasiveness of the weight loss industry and the space that Weight Watchers has carved out of the market, it appears that the quest for thinness has indeed garnered a cult or religious-like devotion. Lelwica makes a compelling argument that “part of what makes media images so effective as tools of indoctrination is the potent combination of their homogeny (model women as uniformly toned and trim) and their ubiquity (mass-produced pictures of this narrow ideal are everywhere)” (272). The commercial largely repackages and further entrenches stereotypical assertions, detrimental myths, and moralistic ideas about obesity and blasts them onto TV screens during one of the most watched U.S. sporting events of the year. Ultimately, Weight Watchers is sending the same stigmatizing message that always prevails: there is salvation in thinness.  

V. CONCLUSION 

Weight Watchers’ “All You Can Eat” exemplifies popular culture as religion through the pursuit of thinness. The theology of thinness provides a nearly unattainable utopian ideal for women to strive towards, a set of strict principles to follow, and commands for the sacrifice of one’s comfortable habits. As such, I’ve endeavoured to underline that there is reason for concern, as the quest for thinness portrays fatness as a moral failing, and propagates the belief that thinness is correlative to godliness, self-control, and virtue. 

Works Cited 

Bacon, Hannah. “Expanding Bodies, Expanding God: Feminist Theology in Search of a ‘Fatter’ Future.” Feminist Theology, vol. 21, no. 3, 2013, pp. 309 – 326.

Forbes, Bruce David. “Introduction: Finding Religion in Unexpected Places.” Religion and Popular Culture in America, edited by Bruce David Forbes and Jeffrey H. Mahan, University of California Press, 2017, pp. 1 – 24.  

Griffith, Marie R. “’Don’t Eat That’ Denial, Indulgence, and Exclusion in Christian Diet Culture.” Born Again Bodies: Flesh and Spirit in American Christianity.Berkeley and Los Angeles, University of California Press, 2004.

Harris, Jennifer A. “’It’s a Bird!’ Superheroes & Their Religious Roots”. 24 January. 2019, University of Toronto, Toronto. Class Lecture.

Herndon, April Michelle. “Taking the Devil Into Your Moth: Ritualized American Weight-loss Narratives of Morality, Pain, and Betrayal.” Perspectives in Biology and Medicine, vol. 51, no. 2, 2008, pp. 207 – 219.

Lelwica, Michelle M. “Losing Their way to Salvation: Women, Weight Loss, and the Religion of Thinness.” Religion and Popular Culture in America, edited by Bruce David Forbes and Jeffrey H. Mahan, University of California Press, 2017, pp. 262 – 287.

Moisio, Risto and Beruchashvili, Mariam. “Questing for Well-Being at Weight Watchers: The Role of the Spiritual-Therapeutic Model in a Support Group.” Journal of Consumer Research, vol. 36, no. 5, 2010, pp. 857 – 875.

Schultz, E.J. “Why Weight Watchers Ran an Anti-Drug-Like Super Bowl Ad.” AdAge, 1, Feb. 2015, https://adage.com/article/special-report-super-bowl/weight-watchers-ran-anti-drug-super-bowl-ad/296928/

“Super Bowl Sunday is No Longer Just a Beer Holiday.” Nielsen, 3, Feb. 2016, https://www.nielsen.com/us/en/insights/news/2016/super-bowl-sunday-is-no-longer-just-a-beer-holiday.html

“U.S. Weight Loss Market Worth $66 Billion.” PR Newswire, 20, Dec. 2017, https://www.prnewswire.com/news-releases/us-weight-loss-market-worth-66-billion-300573968.html

Weight Watchers. “All You Can Eat.” Vimeo, uploaded by Ansel Wallenfang, 2 October 2015, https://vimeo.com/141206768

Weight Watchers International Inc. Form 10-K 2017. Web. 2018.

Media Content 

I: Screenshot taken from advertisement, White Plate  

II: Screenshot taken from advertisement, Neon Diner Sign

The Simpsons, Homer Simpson gif: https://giphy.com/gifs/YpQWy3hKqCxJC

[chocolate-brownies]

  For the most part, we all understand how to cook with real food. We typically don’t add non-food ingredients into our home-cooked meals. Our avocados aren’t made with green dye. We don’t sprinkle stearoyl lactylate into our soups and breads. The problem isn’t typically home cooked meals using fresh ingredients; the problem is the food-like substances, chemicals, food additives, preservatives, food dyes, and artificial sweeteners that food companies add to their food. But if you don’t have stearoyl lactylate in your cupboard, then you probably shouldn’t eat it in the food that you buy either.

For so long, most people were unaware of the chemicals added to our foods and how the hormones, plastics, and toxins that we congest on a day to day basis are harming our bodies. Now, many of us conscious consumers have learned to avoid breads containing yoga mats and french fries with Silly Putty in them. But sometimes processed foods still find their way into our kitchens.

I’m not saying that ALL processed and packaged foods are all bad. People have been processing food virtually from day one. Until refrigeration, it was the only way we had of preserving perishables to eat later. Cooking is a form of processing, so are curing, drying, smoking, fermenting—the list goes on and on. Whole foods processed using traditional methods and ingredients are not something we need to avoid. Some processing actually improves food by making its nutrients more available or potent. We just have to understand which processed foods we can safely eat and which ones we should avoid.

I want to walk you through what processed foods to avoid so that when you do find yourself deciding on whether or not to buy that box of goodies you can make better choices.

Avoid the following…

Anything with ingredients that are difficult to pronounce. These products surely contain substances that belong in a chemistry set, not in your body. Try saying stearoyl lactylate or butylated hydroxytoluene with ease. Not so easy. Skip those questionable ingredients.

Anything that didn’t exist in your grandmother’s day—maybe even your great-grandmother’s day, depending on how old you are. I know this is kind of a trendy approach to eating right now, but it completely makes sense. One hundred years ago we didn’t need a label to tell us that our food was local, organic, and grass-fed; all food was whole, real, unadulterated, traditional food. Fortunately, there is a desire to get back to this way of eating.

Anything containing high-fructose corn syrup. When used in moderation, it is a major cause of heart disease, obesity, cancer, dementia, liver failure, tooth decay, and more.

We just have to understand which processed foods we can safely eat and which ones we should avoid.

Anything with the word “hydrogenated” in its name. Since most people don’t know that hydrogenated fat and trans fat are the same thing, food makers have been able to hide the trans fat content in plain sight using this little trick.

Anything advertised on TV. Have you seen a commercial for broccoli or sardines during the Super Bowl? The worst foods get the most airtime on television.

Anything with a cute name. Froot Loops are not a good source of fruit.

Anything you can buy at a drive-through window. This one is a no-brainer.

Anything with monosodium glutamate (otherwise known as MSG), even though the FDA says it is safe. It’s an excitotoxin—a neurotransmitter that is known to kill brain cells. We associate it with Chinese cuisine, but food companies use it in many items without our knowledge. They even try to hide its presence, calling it “hydrolyzed vegetable protein,” “vegetable protein,” “natural flavorings,” and even simply “spices.” Spices? Tricky, right? And the worst news—it induces hunger and carb cravings, so you’ll eat more of it. It’s what they give to lab rats in experiments to fatten them up

Any food in an aerosol can.

Anything called “cheese food” (which is neither cheese nor food).

Anything with artificial sweeteners. The evidence is catching up. Recent studies have not been kind to artificial sweeteners, claiming among other problems they adversely affect gut health and glucose tolerance. I recommend giving up aspartame, sucralose, sugar alcohols such as maltitol, and all of the other heavily used and marketed sweeteners unless you want to slow down your metabolism, gain weight, and become an addict. Use a little stevia if you must, but skip out on the others.

Anything with any type of additives, preservatives, or dyes (of which we eat about 2 1⁄2 pounds per person per year).

Any food with more than five ingredients on the label, unless they are all things you recognize, such as tomatoes, water, basil, oregano, salt.

I know this might seem like a long list, but you can avoid all of these items by sticking with real, whole foods, and brands that you trust. In my new book, Food: What the Heck Should I Eat? I’ll walk you through an entire kitchen makeover, what foods to avoid and what foods to eat to promote health and avoid dis-ease.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, food is literally the most powerful medicine you have available to control your health. I want you to think of your kitchen as your pharmacy. It all starts with taking out the junk, and putting in the good stuff.

This piece originally appeared on Dr. Mark Hyman’s blog. Republished with permission from the author.

—

Dr. Hyman is a practicing family physician, a 10-time #1 New York Times bestselling author, and an internationally recognized leader, speaker, educator, and advocate in his field. He is the Director of the Cleveland Clinic Center for Functional Medicine. He is also the founder and director of The UltraWellness Center, chairman of the board of the Institute for Functional Medicine, a medical editor of The Huffington Post, and a regular medical contributor on many television shows including CBS This Morning, Today Show, Good Morning America, CNN, and The View, Katie and The Dr. Oz Show.

1

The post What NOT to Eat UK appeared first on Wanderlust.

#sleep sounds #sleep music #white noise app #nature sounds #relaxing sounds #rain sounds for sleeping

[sublimotion]

What NOT to Eat

http://drhyman.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Veggies.jpeg?v=1.1

For the most part, we all understand how to cook with real food. We typically don’t add non-food ingredients into our home-cooked meals. Our avocados aren’t made with green dye. We don’t sprinkle stearoyl lactylate into our soups and breads. The problem isn’t typically home cooked meals using fresh ingredients; the problem is the food-like substances, chemicals, food additives, preservatives, food dyes, and artificial sweeteners that food companies add to their food. But if you don’t have stearoyl lactylate in your cupboard, then you probably shouldn’t eat it in the food that you buy either.

For so long, most people were unaware of the chemicals added to our foods and how the hormones, plastics, and toxins that we congest on a day to day basis are harming our bodies. Now, many of us conscious consumers have learned to avoid breads containing yoga mats and french fries with Silly Putty in them. But sometimes processed foods still find their way into our kitchens.

I’m not saying that ALL processed and packaged foods are all bad. People have been processing food virtually from day one. Until refrigeration, it was the only way we had of preserving perishables to eat later. Cooking is a form of processing, so are curing, drying, smoking, fermenting—the list goes on and on. Whole foods processed using traditional methods and ingredients are not something we need to avoid. Some processing actually improves food by making its nutrients more available or potent. We just have to understand which processed foods we can safely eat and which ones we should avoid.

For today’s newsletter, I want to walk you through what processed foods to avoid so that when you do find yourself deciding on whether or not to buy that box of goodies you can make better choices.

Avoid the following…

Anything with ingredients that are difficult to pronounce. These products surely contain substances that belong in a chemistry set, not in your body. Try saying stearoyl lactylate or butylated hydroxytoluene with ease. Not so easy. Skip those questionable ingredients.

Anything that didn’t exist in your grandmother’s day—maybe even your great-grandmother’s day, depending on how old you are. I know this is kind of a trendy approach to eating right now, but it completely makes sense. One hundred years ago we didn’t need a label to tell us that our food was local, organic, and grass-fed; all food was whole, real, unadulterated, traditional food. Fortunately, there is a desire to get back to this way of eating.

Anything containing soybean oil. Americans now get almost 10 percent of their calories from refined soybean oil, which is one of the most abundant sources of omega-6 fatty acids. Plus, it often contains high levels of glyphosate, or Roundup, the toxic herbicide used by Monsanto. It’s not that Americans are drinking soybean oil by the cup; most people aren’t even aware they’re eating it. But it’s lurking everywhere. If you eat fast food, grains, desserts, packaged snacks, potato chips, muffins, or conventionally raised meat, or buy almost anything cooked in oil at a cafeteria, diner, or restaurant, then you’re almost certainly consuming lots of soybean oil and other oils rich in omega-6 fatty acids without even knowing it. This stuff is toxic and inflammatory. Stay away.

Anything containing high-fructose corn syrup. When used in moderation, it is a major cause of heart disease, obesity, cancer, dementia, liver failure, tooth decay, and more.

Anything with the word “hydrogenated” in its name. Since most people don’t know that hydrogenated fat and trans fat are the same thing, food makers have been able to hide the trans fat content in plain sight using this little trick.

Anything advertised on TV. Have you seen a commercial for broccoli or sardines during the Super Bowl? The worst foods get the most airtime on television.

Anything with a cute name. Froot Loops are not a good source of fruit.

Anything you can buy at a drive-through window. This one is a no-brainer.

Anything with monosodium glutamate (otherwise known as MSG), even though the FDA says it is safe. It’s an excitotoxin—a neurotransmitter that is known to kill brain cells. We associate it with Chinese cuisine, but food companies use it in many items without our knowledge. They even try to hide its presence, calling it “hydrolyzed vegetable protein,” “vegetable protein,” “natural flavorings,” and even simply “spices.” Spices? Tricky, right? And the worst news—it induces hunger and carb cravings, so you’ll eat more of it. It’s what they give to lab rats in experiments to fatten them up

Any food in an aerosol can.

Anything called “cheese food” (which is neither cheese nor food).

Anything with artificial sweeteners. The evidence is catching up. Recent studies have not been kind to artificial sweeteners, claiming among other problems they adversely affect gut health and glucose tolerance. I recommend giving up aspartame, sucralose, sugar alcohols such as maltitol, and all of the other heavily used and marketed sweeteners unless you want to slow down your metabolism, gain weight, and become an addict. Use a little stevia if you must, but skip out on the others.

Anything with any type of additives, preservatives, or dyes (of which we eat about 2 1⁄2 pounds per person per year).

Any food with more than five ingredients on the label, unless they are all things you recognize, such as tomatoes, water, basil, oregano, salt.

I know this might seem like a long list, but you can avoid all of these items by sticking with real, whole foods, and brands that you trust. In my new book, Food: What the Heck Should I Eat? I’ll walk you through an entire kitchen makeover, what foods to avoid and what foods to eat to promote health and avoid dis-ease.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, food is literally the most powerful medicine you have available to control your health. I want you to think of your kitchen as your pharmacy. It all starts with taking out the junk, and putting in the good stuff.

Wishing you health and happiness,

Mark Hyman, MD

[Read More ...] http://drhyman.com/blog/2018/03/30/what-not-to-eat/

#infrared sauna #health

[midnightattufts]

What NOT to Eat

http://drhyman.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Veggies.jpeg?v=1.1

For the most part, we all understand how to cook with real food. We typically don’t add non-food ingredients into our home-cooked meals. Our avocados aren’t made with green dye. We don’t sprinkle stearoyl lactylate into our soups and breads. The problem isn’t typically home cooked meals using fresh ingredients; the problem is the food-like substances, chemicals, food additives, preservatives, food dyes, and artificial sweeteners that food companies add to their food. But if you don’t have stearoyl lactylate in your cupboard, then you probably shouldn’t eat it in the food that you buy either.

For so long, most people were unaware of the chemicals added to our foods and how the hormones, plastics, and toxins that we congest on a day to day basis are harming our bodies. Now, many of us conscious consumers have learned to avoid breads containing yoga mats and french fries with Silly Putty in them. But sometimes processed foods still find their way into our kitchens.

I’m not saying that ALL processed and packaged foods are all bad. People have been processing food virtually from day one. Until refrigeration, it was the only way we had of preserving perishables to eat later. Cooking is a form of processing, so are curing, drying, smoking, fermenting—the list goes on and on. Whole foods processed using traditional methods and ingredients are not something we need to avoid. Some processing actually improves food by making its nutrients more available or potent. We just have to understand which processed foods we can safely eat and which ones we should avoid.

For today’s newsletter, I want to walk you through what processed foods to avoid so that when you do find yourself deciding on whether or not to buy that box of goodies you can make better choices.

Avoid the following…

Anything with ingredients that are difficult to pronounce. These products surely contain substances that belong in a chemistry set, not in your body. Try saying stearoyl lactylate or butylated hydroxytoluene with ease. Not so easy. Skip those questionable ingredients.

Anything that didn’t exist in your grandmother’s day—maybe even your great-grandmother’s day, depending on how old you are. I know this is kind of a trendy approach to eating right now, but it completely makes sense. One hundred years ago we didn’t need a label to tell us that our food was local, organic, and grass-fed; all food was whole, real, unadulterated, traditional food. Fortunately, there is a desire to get back to this way of eating.

Anything containing soybean oil. Americans now get almost 10 percent of their calories from refined soybean oil, which is one of the most abundant sources of omega-6 fatty acids. Plus, it often contains high levels of glyphosate, or Roundup, the toxic herbicide used by Monsanto. It’s not that Americans are drinking soybean oil by the cup; most people aren’t even aware they’re eating it. But it’s lurking everywhere. If you eat fast food, grains, desserts, packaged snacks, potato chips, muffins, or conventionally raised meat, or buy almost anything cooked in oil at a cafeteria, diner, or restaurant, then you’re almost certainly consuming lots of soybean oil and other oils rich in omega-6 fatty acids without even knowing it. This stuff is toxic and inflammatory. Stay away.

Anything containing high-fructose corn syrup. When used in moderation, it is a major cause of heart disease, obesity, cancer, dementia, liver failure, tooth decay, and more.

Anything with the word “hydrogenated” in its name. Since most people don’t know that hydrogenated fat and trans fat are the same thing, food makers have been able to hide the trans fat content in plain sight using this little trick.

Anything advertised on TV. Have you seen a commercial for broccoli or sardines during the Super Bowl? The worst foods get the most airtime on television.

Anything with a cute name. Froot Loops are not a good source of fruit.

Anything you can buy at a drive-through window. This one is a no-brainer.

Anything with monosodium glutamate (otherwise known as MSG), even though the FDA says it is safe. It’s an excitotoxin—a neurotransmitter that is known to kill brain cells. We associate it with Chinese cuisine, but food companies use it in many items without our knowledge. They even try to hide its presence, calling it “hydrolyzed vegetable protein,” “vegetable protein,” “natural flavorings,” and even simply “spices.” Spices? Tricky, right? And the worst news—it induces hunger and carb cravings, so you’ll eat more of it. It’s what they give to lab rats in experiments to fatten them up

Any food in an aerosol can.

Anything called “cheese food” (which is neither cheese nor food).

Anything with artificial sweeteners. The evidence is catching up. Recent studies have not been kind to artificial sweeteners, claiming among other problems they adversely affect gut health and glucose tolerance. I recommend giving up aspartame, sucralose, sugar alcohols such as maltitol, and all of the other heavily used and marketed sweeteners unless you want to slow down your metabolism, gain weight, and become an addict. Use a little stevia if you must, but skip out on the others.

Anything with any type of additives, preservatives, or dyes (of which we eat about 2 1⁄2 pounds per person per year).

Any food with more than five ingredients on the label, unless they are all things you recognize, such as tomatoes, water, basil, oregano, salt.

I know this might seem like a long list, but you can avoid all of these items by sticking with real, whole foods, and brands that you trust. In my new book, Food: What the Heck Should I Eat? I’ll walk you through an entire kitchen makeover, what foods to avoid and what foods to eat to promote health and avoid dis-ease.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, food is literally the most powerful medicine you have available to control your health. I want you to think of your kitchen as your pharmacy. It all starts with taking out the junk, and putting in the good stuff.

Wishing you health and happiness,

Mark Hyman, MD

[Read More ...] http://drhyman.com/blog/2018/03/30/what-not-to-eat/

#health

[melissawsr]

What NOT to Eat

For the most part, we all understand how to cook with real food. We typically don’t add non-food ingredients into our home-cooked meals. Our avocados aren’t made with green dye. We don’t sprinkle stearoyl lactylate into our soups and breads. The problem isn’t typically home cooked meals using fresh ingredients; the problem is the food-like substances, chemicals, food additives, preservatives, food dyes, and artificial sweeteners that food companies add to their food. But if you don’t have stearoyl lactylate in your cupboard, then you probably shouldn’t eat it in the food that you buy either.

For so long, most people were unaware of the chemicals added to our foods and how the hormones, plastics, and toxins that we congest on a day to day basis are harming our bodies. Now, many of us conscious consumers have learned to avoid breads containing yoga mats and french fries with Silly Putty in them. But sometimes processed foods still find their way into our kitchens.

I’m not saying that ALL processed and packaged foods are all bad. People have been processing food virtually from day one. Until refrigeration, it was the only way we had of preserving perishables to eat later. Cooking is a form of processing, so are curing, drying, smoking, fermenting—the list goes on and on. Whole foods processed using traditional methods and ingredients are not something we need to avoid. Some processing actually improves food by making its nutrients more available or potent. We just have to understand which processed foods we can safely eat and which ones we should avoid.

For today’s newsletter, I want to walk you through what processed foods to avoid so that when you do find yourself deciding on whether or not to buy that box of goodies you can make better choices.

Avoid the following…

Anything with ingredients that are difficult to pronounce. These products surely contain substances that belong in a chemistry set, not in your body. Try saying stearoyl lactylate or butylated hydroxytoluene with ease. Not so easy. Skip those questionable ingredients.

Anything that didn’t exist in your grandmother’s day—maybe even your great-grandmother’s day, depending on how old you are. I know this is kind of a trendy approach to eating right now, but it completely makes sense. One hundred years ago we didn’t need a label to tell us that our food was local, organic, and grass-fed; all food was whole, real, unadulterated, traditional food. Fortunately, there is a desire to get back to this way of eating.

Anything containing soybean oil. Americans now get almost 10 percent of their calories from refined soybean oil, which is one of the most abundant sources of omega-6 fatty acids. Plus, it often contains high levels of glyphosate, or Roundup, the toxic herbicide used by Monsanto. It’s not that Americans are drinking soybean oil by the cup; most people aren’t even aware they’re eating it. But it’s lurking everywhere. If you eat fast food, grains, desserts, packaged snacks, potato chips, muffins, or conventionally raised meat, or buy almost anything cooked in oil at a cafeteria, diner, or restaurant, then you’re almost certainly consuming lots of soybean oil and other oils rich in omega-6 fatty acids without even knowing it. This stuff is toxic and inflammatory. Stay away.

Anything containing high-fructose corn syrup. When used in moderation, it is a major cause of heart disease, obesity, cancer, dementia, liver failure, tooth decay, and more.

Anything with the word “hydrogenated” in its name. Since most people don’t know that hydrogenated fat and trans fat are the same thing, food makers have been able to hide the trans fat content in plain sight using this little trick.

Anything advertised on TV. Have you seen a commercial for broccoli or sardines during the Super Bowl? The worst foods get the most airtime on television.

Anything with a cute name. Froot Loops are not a good source of fruit.

Anything you can buy at a drive-through window. This one is a no-brainer.

Anything with monosodium glutamate (otherwise known as MSG), even though the FDA says it is safe. It’s an excitotoxin—a neurotransmitter that is known to kill brain cells. We associate it with Chinese cuisine, but food companies use it in many items without our knowledge. They even try to hide its presence, calling it “hydrolyzed vegetable protein,” “vegetable protein,” “natural flavorings,” and even simply “spices.” Spices? Tricky, right? And the worst news—it induces hunger and carb cravings, so you’ll eat more of it. It’s what they give to lab rats in experiments to fatten them up

Any food in an aerosol can.

Anything called “cheese food” (which is neither cheese nor food).

Anything with artificial sweeteners. The evidence is catching up. Recent studies have not been kind to artificial sweeteners, claiming among other problems they adversely affect gut health and glucose tolerance. I recommend giving up aspartame, sucralose, sugar alcohols such as maltitol, and all of the other heavily used and marketed sweeteners unless you want to slow down your metabolism, gain weight, and become an addict. Use a little stevia if you must, but skip out on the others.

Anything with any type of additives, preservatives, or dyes (of which we eat about 2 1⁄2 pounds per person per year).

Any food with more than five ingredients on the label, unless they are all things you recognize, such as tomatoes, water, basil, oregano, salt.

I know this might seem like a long list, but you can avoid all of these items by sticking with real, whole foods, and brands that you trust. In my new book, Food: What the Heck Should I Eat? I’ll walk you through an entire kitchen makeover, what foods to avoid and what foods to eat to promote health and avoid dis-ease.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, food is literally the most powerful medicine you have available to control your health. I want you to think of your kitchen as your pharmacy. It all starts with taking out the junk, and putting in the good stuff.

Wishing you health and happiness,

Mark Hyman, MD

[Read More ...] http://drhyman.com/blog/2018/03/30/what-not-to-eat/