#and how going too far into that can destroy you without some small joy in your own small world to balance it

[yeen-meteor]

thinking about how fucking cool i-no guilty gear is and how much i love her. narratively and design wise. like.

the first two things you pick up from her visual design are that she Fucks, and she plays guitar. That she’s a hedonist, and maybe an artist, or maybe just someone who would hang out at dive bars and play covers and get drunk and have a good time.

and neither of those things ever seem to be true at all, with how she’s portrayed in the stories. She sometimes puts on the whole sultry thing just to sling insults, but for the most part she’s just, serious, and vaguely miserable, and taking part in the Greater Scope Plot and fighting over the Fate Of The World. She never does anything for herself, never does anything for fun. She puts all this effort into using time travel to avert disasters, both in the drama cd and in the xrd sign arcade mode - and from what i’ve heard of the drama cd, she hates doing it, she hates feeling like the Author of the world and not just a participant in it - but eight years later she’s still doing it. She holds deep, deep grudges over who the chosen ones are, who gets to wield the flame of corruption. In Strive, she tries to become God, she schemes and fights hard for it, and she seems bored at best and miserable at worst the whole time.

She wears the visage of a free-spirited hedonist, but she can’t keep herself out of fate-of-the-world conflicts, she can’t seperate herself from what she is, what she was created to be, and what power she has. She spends her whole life toiling away at all these plots to alter the course of the whole world.

And when she’s defeated, at the end of Strive, she asks Sol why the fuck he has a weapon that strong, when he was practically unstoppable already,

and Sol just basically says, “It’s a hobby. A man’s gotta have hobbies.”

And like. I-no just. Doesn’t. She doesn’t have hobbies. She looks like she does, she looks like she wants to, but she doesn’t.

And Requiem is such a fucking cool song lyrically, talking about how her ascent to power is just destroying her, how she flew high so she could see everything but now there is no up or down above the clouds and she can’t breathe - just this self-destructive, obsessive involvement in The Big Picture, pursuing power because she’s Supposed to, and never once thinking about what She Wants.

And through her interactions with Axl, through the lyrics of Requiem, through Sol’s comment about hobbies, and through I-no’s visual design, even through Testament who almost seems to exist as a perfect foil to this concept as someone who has limitless power but just lives small and happy with all the hobbies in the world, we’re just left to wonder - 

what if she actually did the things it looks like she does? What if she just, went to a dive bar, got on stage, played Stone Cold Crazy (with the Metallica lyrics just to piss off Frederick somewhere), got wasted, Hecked, and had just a wild, inconsequential, hedonistic good time, and left all the Big Picture behind? But it’s too late for her, because she’s already flown too high.

She’s so fucking cool like,.

#and i think it says something about immersing yourself in the news and the fate of the real world #and how going too far into that can destroy you without some small joy in your own small world to balance it #guilty gear #i-no guilty gear #yeen rambles

[justalittletomato]

Homecoming (Dad!Maul)

A/N: Tonight is pretty much whump for Maul! 

@patchiefrog @gran-maul-seizure @eyecandyeoz @by-the-primes @kimageddon @hannagoldworthy @literatureandqueen @stardustbee @apocalypticwafflekitten @storm89 

His return came with mixed reactions. One part of him wanted to stride in as he once did, returning home after a mission quickly. Another part of him was apprehensive, it had been months, he had not set foot in the Fortress in months. 

It is Aster who greets him, Maul meeting the end of her saber, “Oh.” 

His eldest daughter was slightly startled, a mix of relief, anger, and her golden eyes welling with tears. 

Maul staring back horrified as her eyes flashed back to their regular brown. “You came back?” her usual confidant tone gone, small and cracked. She was holding back tears. 

She did not embrace him, merely mentioning he had been missed greatly and best prepared for Danica. 

Like she once did as a small girl she leads him by the hand into thier home. 

—-

His youngest child was curled up with a book in her arms. It was the last one Maul had brought her. A soft blue cover of an icy far off planet unknown and not a word is written that she knew. Maul had acquired it from the very far reaches of wild spaces. Danica wondered what the place was called.  

Asleep to the world, she dreamt her father had come home. He picked her up and held her close. 

This dream felt so real, she could smell the familiar spice and slightly smoky scent. 

“I am sorry…” 

Danica’s eyes flutter open. Tired Gold eyes stare at her. She mouths the name she had asked for weeks on end. “DADDY!” she breaks into sobs clinging to Maul and burying her small face into him. “YOU'RE HOME!” 

—

Danica refuses to be set down. Aster doesn't try to argue with her and Maul won't deny his smallest child this. 

“Buir is checking the perimeter…” 

—-

Starlight looks over thier data pad to a familiar sight. Well, what was once familiar….it had been some time…

Sadness. A spark of joy. Anger…overwhelming anger…

“Buir! Daddy is home!” Danica’s joy is met with a small smile. 

“Yes he is my little Dan’ika, I know you have missed him so terribly.” 

Maul winces at that. Aster looks away, how she wished to be blissfully unaware like Dani. 

Starlight walks past without another glance at Maul. “I’ll finish up dinner then, Aster please set another place at the table.” 

—-

Danica is smiling and grinning. 

Aster wishes she could. 

—

“Star….” it is after the girls have gone to bed and the two are alone. 

“I ask you sleep in the parlor,” 

“Starlight, let me apologize,” 

They shake thier head at him, “ It is not that I won’t hear you apologize but I  am tired Maul…I am so tired of worrying and waiting. 4 months…you were gone for 4 months this time…each day I wonder if it will be another week…another month? Maker many times I wonder if you had died…” 

They are shaking, “ I wake in the morning remembering you just left as the sun rose and I thought was that the end of it?” 

“I never meant to hurt you…”

“I know you dont…but you do.” Starlight pulls back from his attempt to comfort them, “But its not just me…you hurt them, the ones you swore you would never hurt.” 

Nights of tears and nightmares and Danica’s small voice crying out for her father. Aster in panic over her reflection, the shattered mirror reflecting off her golden eyes. 

“I can't sleep next to you and know you’ll just be gone.” 

Maul tries to defend himself, “ As soon as I…” As soon as I finally get rid of Kenobi. As soon I get rid of everyone and everything that has done me wrong….everything can go back to the way it was…

Starlight stops him. 

“You’ll turn back the chrono? Get back the year and more you lost? Can you get me back my baby boy that Maker knows we dont know where he ran off too?!” 

Their breaths quicken. “I can’t be like Dani and hope. I can’t be like Aster and try to hide…I can’t be like our Cress and run off…” 

Maul falls silent.  

“ I love you Maul but you are breaking me apart…” 

—-

In one fell swoop, Maul had again done what he had done best. Destroy everything around him and there was not even a speck of blood. He presses his face into the soft pillow Aster had left him and muffles his scream.

#star wars #dad!maul #darth maul #maul x starlight #maul x reader if you squint #tomato twin au #aster #danica #cress #whumptober2022 #angst

[i-did-not-mean-to]

surprised to find me into your ask box for au?

Yes,me too, girl! 😆

setting— drunk/night out au

occupation— reporter or librarian (I'm a document controller these are the only things close to that job— which might help me read it myself now, because relatable! 🤞)

Diagloue— maybe you need to focus more on your life and less on mine

GO WILD! 🤣

-Tara💝

Well...wouldn't that be my biggest honour and pleasure? I think so...

So...Modern!AU...for you, it would have to be Erestor, right?

Words: 1,6k

Warnings: verbal abuse, alcohol consumption

It was not as if Erestor didn’t like you, he was far from the monster people made him out to be sometimes after all, but he really didn’t know what to think of you or how to interact with you, and that made him nervous.

Being nervous – in turn – made him taciturn and hostile which was exactly the opposite of a promising reaction.

For years, he had been safe and sound in his little library – seeing journalists come and go – and he had followed their careers with benign disinterest until the day one of the hotshot reporters had decided that he was now too famous and important to do his own research himself.

The wide-eyed, sweet-tempered woman they had dug up from somewhere – you – who was hired to do just that for that self-important prick had intrigued him from the very start, but – knowing full well what people said about him behind his back – Erestor had merely given you some helpful tips from time to time when you had been looking for a very specific source.

Watchful by nature, he had also been the heart-broken and utterly helpless witness of your short dalliance with the man who should have been your mentor and your friend, and who ended up destroying your self-confidence by treating you like something easily expendable.

One day, Erestor knew, he would have to come out of his shell if he didn’t want to be found dead and covered in dust between the rows and stacks of books, but the more he watched how other men treated good, honest women, the deeper his disdain and hatred for all things romantic grew. It was hopeless and that made him angrier than it should have.

Who was to guarantee him that – being rather clumsy and inexperienced in these things – he would not end up hurting someone like you by accident? Nobody, that was right, and hence, Erestor stayed in his corner and watched as the days dripped past like rain running down a windowpane.

You had practised the speech in the mirror of the small upstairs bathroom for 5 minutes, but once you stood in front of Erestor, all the words – so carefully prepared – were blown right out of your mind.

“Can I help you?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow impatiently.

“Well, yes,” you admitted sheepishly, “we’re going out for drinks tonight and I wondered if you would like to come?”

“Why? I do not work at your paper…Why would I come?”

“I had hoped you’d come,” you mumbled quietly; you felt safer when he was around, ever since that debacle with your boss, the library had become the only place you felt really comfortable in.

“Truly?” he sounded somewhat sceptical of that affirmation, but if you really wanted him to sit in a dank room and drink beer, who was he to deny you? “Alright then. Where are we going?”

You could hardly believe that he had accepted your invitation and – for the rest of the day – you could barely sit still or focus on any of your tasks so excited were you to be spending an evening outside of work with the mysterious librarian you so liked to see.

He was a tad older than you but still so blindingly handsome with his serious mien and his deep eyes that seemed to hold a hint of indulgent mockery and impatient intelligence whenever they met yours.

“You truly got the old grump to come?” your boss jeered as Erestor appeared at the end of the street, wrapped in an elegant dark wool coat, and walking briskly toward the group waiting in front of the pub.

“Yes,” you replied not without pride and the joy tinging your voice made the man’s mood turn bitter within an instant.

True to his nature, Erestor spent most of the evening just observing the people around him; they were a loud and disagreeable bunch at the best of times, and the alcohol did nothing to make them more bearable.

Annoyance started building in his chest and when that one asshole he hated anyway because of how he had treated you took the liberty of disparaging and mocking you in front of all your senior colleagues, Erestor squared his jaw in frustration to keep from leaping over the table and punching him right in the face as he would have deserved it.

It was obvious that you were ill at ease as well though as you kept downing glass after glass at a speed that soon made your head feel fuzzy and your heart lighter; you knew of course that this was just a momentary respite that you’d pay dearly in the morning, but somehow, as the alcohol entered your bloodstream, you no longer cared about how helpless and isolated you felt.

The jokes made at your expense and the glances full of pity and disdain respectively that your colleagues gave you became irrelevant as the whole world started to blur and float around you.

“Baby,” your boss – not entirely sober either – slurred, “should I take you home?”

For a moment, you hesitated; he had broken your heart and you knew for a fact that this was not him coming back to you, it was merely a matter of convenience and alcohol-induced horniness.

“No,” Erestor intervened, “I’ve got her. You’ve had quite enough yourself; I’ll take her home and make sure she’s safe!”

That last word, safe, was sharp as a blade and your boss flinched back as if Erestor had physically rebuffed him.

“Woah there, aren’t you a little intense, Mister Grumpy-pants? Always moping around amidst those books seems to have done you no good,” the man jeered, “you wouldn’t even know what to do with a lady that drunk, would you? I’d be surprised if you knew what to do with any kind of woman.”

“Maybe you need to focus more on your life and less on mine,” Erestor replied coldly, “for I know exactly what to do with a lady who has had more than her fill: bring her home and make sure she’s alright. The fact that you’d have other, more sinister plans makes you a despicable creature.”

Without wasting another thought or look on your boss, Erestor slung his arm around your waist, slammed down a few bills on the table, and all but carried you out.

“You…you don’t need to do that,” you slurred; the cold air hitting you straight into the face made you feel a little better even though your thoughts were still kind of sluggish and hard to decipher.

“I don’t trust that pig,” Erestor grunted as he escorted you down the road, “do you live far from here?”

You shook your head – dizziness making you claw your fingers into his beautiful coat – and pointed at a complex just within sight.

“Alright,” he grumbled and – after giving you a long, warning look – he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your door.

“Flash the lights thrice so I know that you made it home alright,” he demanded, cupping your cheek almost tenderly as you buried your face in his collar when he set you back down.

“I am sorry he said those things to you,” you whispered, too tired and sad to withstand the embarrassing neediness flooding your being and pushing you into his living, breathing, comforting warmth.

“I care not,” Erestor almost barked, “I am sorry he did those things to you though; he didn’t deserve you, and his jokes are truly horrible. Please, do not worry about someone like him.”

“You really think that he didn’t deserve me?” Your eyes lit up with hope and – as you looked up at him – you realised that his lips were but a breath away from your own.

“I know that for a fact,” he whispered, his words ghosting warm and fragrant across your face, “you’re smart, diligent, and beautiful. You were so far out of his league that he probably just got scared, little ridiculous man that he is.”

Erestor was right, deep within your heart you knew that he was; his own arms were strong and reliable though as they curled loosely around your swaying form.

“Do you want to come up?” you asked, emboldened by the way he held you, but Erestor gave you a surprisingly soft smile as he shook his head, a hint of regret flashing over his beautiful face.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, dear, you need to sleep.”

“Please? You can just hold me? And make sure that I am truly okay?” You hated yourself for sounding so desperate and clingy, but the fatigue, the alcohol, and the memory of all the terrible things that had been said about you this evening weighed heavily on your heart all of a sudden.

“I’ll bring you up and we’ll see,” he finally agreed, taking your hand and not letting go until you had unlocked the door.

Erestor waited patiently on your couch for you to go through your night-time routine and when – washed and changed – you wobbled back into the living room to sit down next to him, he allowed both of you the pleasure of pulling you into his careful embrace once more until you had fallen asleep against his chest.

One day, he knew, he would have to tear down those walls around his heart.

He truly hoped that day would be the very next one when you’d wake up in his arms with a rueful smile.

@eunoiaastralwings I hope this was not too terrible for you :D

@fellowshipofthefics Third entry for the May Challenge :D

Lots of love from me for all of you...and if you have an obscure character you want to see written in a Modern!AU, I might just be your gal hahahaha

#the hobbit #fanfiction #fotfics #fotfics may challenge #modern!au #erestor #erestor x reader #eunoia x erestor really #dear Tara I'm doing my best #drunk #night out #protective erestor #librarian/journalist au

[splendourofrecognition]

I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul

Yet another song, flitting across my busy mind, without any clear trace as to where it arose from. Well, that's not true actually- it's a very windy day and the wind is currently blowing loudly as I type this, so I've found the link.

I keep thinking "I must keep track of that" or "that observation feels important, I must put it somewhere to reflect on another day." Yet, where to put it, how to track it and when to reflect? It's absurdly confusing and I don't have a systematic way of doing it. Amazing, too, how many moments occur on any given day that feel important. The truth is that I can't possibly track everything I want or mull over something at a later date...so some of this is a discernment predicament. First discern, then decide, THEN keep track/reflect later etc. I think I'm reflecting on this particular point in order to avoid all the others, which are the actual things I need to be reflecting on. Right now.

My NHS job is weighing on my body and soul. It has been, for such a long time. Only as I take small steps to extricate myself am I becoming more aware of the cost of this burden, the way it robs me of my energy, leaving me little left over to show love to myself, my family, my friends- all the things I actually care about. I feel sad and heavy when I reflect on the zero-sum gameness of life; that if your attention is in one place, it is absent in another. How much has already been lost, swept up the torrent of my fears around self-worth and all during the first years of Ruby's life that I (and she) will never be able to return to.

I watched my mom do this and vowed to not do the same. Yet, here I sit. Ravaged by a feeling that I might die soon, both literally and figuratively. It sounds so dramatic, really. But that doesn't shift the truth of it and truth is where I'm trying to make my peace. When I first saw Ros, I knew work (specifically, the NHS job) was a pernicious forcefield pulling me under and likened it to Japanese knotweed; a weed so forceful and rapacious that seeks to find cracks in structural foundations and push its way through. Full of destruction and growth. I knew in that moment, too, that my mom was somehow woven into this weed. During our subsequent sessions, she appeared like an apparition that slowly gained opacity as I ventured back into those painful memories. At one point, going so far as to banish her with the words of Gollum, "Leave now and never come back." What, or who, was I trying to banish? The belief that you must sacrifice all that you love at the altar of "responsibility" (code for patriarchy and capitalism). Uphold the status quo, at all costs, even your own life. Do what others tell you to, even if you don't value their opinion. The measurement of society is real and you will be judged at every move; your worth determined by your ability to uphold your white, middle-class, monotonous life, devoid of creativity, spontaneity and joy.

This has a quality of a self-fulfilling prophecy. By worrying from such a young age that I would become my mom, I thereby put into motion the machinations to do just that. But...why? How did this come to pass, when it was diametrically opposed to what I was seeking in the first place?

And if I'm repeating the cycle, where does that leave Ruby? I'm modelling something to her, just as my mom did to me. The messages are unpredictable and I can only speculate, but what I do know is that she's viewing her mom going to work at a job that genuinely feels as if it is killing her at times and for what? Because she's "supposed to" do it...according to who? It would be all too easy to cite money at this juncture- the undebatable reality that our world requires money, for everything. It also has to be said that I don't have to go to a job that destroys my life force in order to make money and have in fact being going to various other jobs that provide what I need, without killing me in the process. So why have I hung on? Should I just hand in my notice?

[gethooktobook]

These particular attributes can be so powerfully enriching and destructive to each one of us. They are neither perfect nor imperfect. Whether they work for you, or against you, is up to you.

The Big Seven

EGO

You need a strong ego to succeed, but it can also be your undoing. On one hand, being modest and unassuming leads to a modest and unassuming life. On the other hand, a rampaging ego can make you lose everything you’ve gained.

DENIAL

To some degree, you need denial to get anywhere; you have to ignore the fact that the odds are often stacked against success. If Mrs. Fields had acknowledged how difficult it is for a small business to succeed, let alone become a giant company, would she have ever attempted to sell a single chocolate chip cookie? On a personal level, choosing not to focus on your partner’s less endearing qualities can help you stay happily married. But denial can also be a hugely destructive quality. Denying communication problems in a marriage can lead to greater and greater distance. So how do you find a middle ground? How can you make sure denial is an asset instead of a liability, for you?

FEAR

Fear can be galvanizing or paralyzing. We are designed, by evolution, to be attuned to fear; it is a survival mechanism. Fear keeps us alert; the ability to flee danger can keep us safe. But fear can also stop us from taking the risks that could take our lives—romantic, professional, interpersonal—to the next level.

AMBITION

Ambition gets you up the ladder of work and life. But excess ambition can mean overreaching (shooting for or taking jobs you’re not ready for, or cheating to reach your goal faster), and can destroy your personal life (lack of attention to loved ones). How do we manage ambition so that it gives us the lives we want but doesn’t eat everything in its path?

ACCOMMODATION

While it’s vital to get along with others, it’s also imperative that you not do so at the expense of your own voice and your own dreams. Trying to make everyone happy—spouse, children, parents, friends, boss, colleagues—can ultimately hurt you badly. At work, people sometimes find that being the “go-to guy” means that no one else wants to see you promoted, because you’re the perfect doormat right where you are. In the home sphere, being a “good doo-bee,” someone who quietly works around other people’s damage and avoids confrontation, can be soul crushing. So how can you be the helpful, giving person you want to be, without subverting and shortchanging yourself in the process?

PATIENCE

Being patient is good. Until it isn’t. Sometimes bosses are too patient with hires they really want to work out. Sometimes CEOs are too patient with strategies they hope will turn a company around. Sometimes parents are too patient with children who need a real wake-up call. Sometimes we’re too patient with people and projects that don’t add to our lives and should be dismissed. Meaningful change usually comes incrementally, so how do we set the wheels in motion without going so slowly nothing can be accomplished, or too quickly to give things time to improve? On the flip side, having no patience at all leads to so many missed opportunities: life happens in the pauses.

INDULGENCE

A life without indulgence is no life at all. Parties, cake, fine wine—they can all bring joy and excitement to a quotidian world. But indulgence can become overindulgence all too quickly, hurting our health, relationships, and standing in the community. This chapter can help you recognize whether the pendulum has swung too far in one direction or the other, toward decadence and hedonism on the one side or toward asceticism and self-abnegation on the other. I’ll also try to help you think about where your own personal line is. -excerpt from the book Good Self, Bad Self.

#readingispower #gethooktobook

[starshipsofstarlord]

💕 reader turns into a baby and obsessed with Bucky. Awww 🥺

Infant Issues

bucky barnes x reader / masterlist

warnings; fluff, morgan definitely being tony’s kid, biting, swearing, spoilers for IW and Endgame, mention of the blip, childish behaviour from adults, terrible humour (I really am sorry), spoiler for WV, mention of age gap, kinda a crossover, an absolute mess 😂

“Morgan?” Bucky frowned, as the girl tried to speed past him. It was not wise for anyone to allow the mischievous child run around the compound alone, she always got up to nothing but trouble, and there was such a glazing in her brown eyes.

She didn’t spare him a glance, instead, she bolted, causing the super soldier to sigh. He would have went after her if there weren’t already footsteps recurring from the path that she had just came from; it was his father. It so happened that there was a bundle of joy in his arms, crying like the sudden crack of dawn.

“What were you going to do, wait another five years to tell everyone about this one, Stark?” Bucky asked with a chuckle, though the cries from the infant muted at the sound of his voice. The child wiggled in Tony’s grasp, trying her utmost to reach out for the vibranium armed hero.

“She’s not my daughter, if she was, I think me and you would be having conversations.” Tony’s words spurred a frown to combust out onto Barnes’ face, and the billionaire sighed, shifting the baby so that the baby was in Bucky’s arms.

The child cooed up at him, her eyes were a baby blue, sure to avert possibly into a different colour once she grew elder. “Look, I didn’t ask if I could hold her, she’s cute, but why do you-“

“Morgan did it.” Tony willingly blamed his own daughter. With her various experimentations, she was definitely taking after him. He’d be sure to keep this one quiet from Pepper, otherwise he was almost certain that he’d be banned from bringing Morgan on expeditions to the compound.

“I though y/n was supposed to be watching her.” Stated the enhanced soldier, cocking his head at the information that he recalled. He promptly remembered you abandoning him half way through training the newbie recruits, because Happy was dropping Morgan off, and you had offered watch over her, despite the associate being there.

“She was, and now you’re going to have to watch over her.” Tony pointed specifically to the child in his arms, and that was when realisation hit Bucky. He gulped, breathing through his nose to calm himself, as all the pieces clicked perfectly together.

This was not just a child - it was you. As he gazed down at you, he could finally see the pouted expression that would fixate upon your face when you paid attention to him when you were drunk, there was a glazing over your eyes as you raised your small and innocent hands, scraping down the stubble of his chin, as you curled further into his arms.

“I am going to kill you.” He steadily spoke, huffing as Sam went to walk past, but stopped himself when he saw the bundle of joy that was content in the brooding soldier’s arms. 

“What the hell! Did you and y/n have a baby or something without telling anyone?” Oh, how he wished those were the circumstances, and if the pair of you were to ever have a child together, then he would be impartial to the idea of doing so.

"This is not my child, it's y/n, thanks to Stark over there." He bounced you in his arms, he even felt a small dribble of spit seep through his shirt, but he didn't mind, not as his icy glare was intently prized upon the philanthropist.

"Hey, it was my daughter's fault, not mine!" Tony excused himself from the blame, holding his palm against his chest, as he received as such. Sam ogled at him for a second, before returning his attention back into Bucky, and little you.

He came forwards, reaching his hand towards you, keening as you went to grasp his. As you did so, a smile broke out upon the man’s face, until it contorted into a sharp frown, the noise of a yelp escaping from his lips. “That little bitch bit me.”

“Language.” Steve rounded the corner, his golden brows raising when he saw the infant contently resting in his best friend’s arms. “Did you and y/n have a baby without telling us?”

“That’s what I said!” Sam beckoned to the blonde, as he averted a strong gaze to you and your normal sized partner. "Until she bit me, it reminds me of that time that I tried to steal her fries."

"I don't see why your complaining." Bucky rolled his eyes, bracing you up straighter so that your forehead was pressed lightly against his shoulder. "I'm the one whose partner is an actual child."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Sam rolled his eyes in reference to how you were beforehand, before Steve cut in, directing his leading tone towards the men that were stood idly by.

"What actually happened?" Tony found his enquiry to be an opportunity to avert the fault from himself; how lucky indeed was it that Steve asked such a thing.

"Technically it's your fault capsicle. Morgan found your prototype of your unsuccessful time machine. As you can see, she turned into a baby, much like Lang. And if you want to push the blame off of yourself, blame these two for their asses disappearing."

"Hey, if I wanted to disappear, I wouldn't have made such a dramatic exit. I'd have just left for my sister's." Crossing his arms, Sam shook his head at the man that was not wearing his iron suit. He was unable to take any responsibility, unless it was for his genius brain wave of creating the true transportation for the time heist.

"Well I'm going to keep that noted for any future repercussions." Oh, how Wilson regretting mentioning that now.

"You left it out, within your daughter's reach." Bucky quirked his brow, as he prepared to head towards the storage of the private laboratory that was shared between the two science bros.

"Technically, that was the big green guy." Bucky vouched not to listen to Stark, instead, he continued to walk, leaving the three other men in his rear view, though for the most part, he could still hear them bickering.

"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change."

"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change." Tony mimicked Steve, thus only proving his point. He was certainly a man that enjoyed pressing people's buttons, it was a shining attribute of the once playboy, and god, did it annoy the hell out of Barnes.

As he entered the laboratory, he found the lab to be in a state of havoc. "Hey, it wasn't me this time." Scott laughed, as he used an extinguisher against the frayed machine, that was blubbering sparks from its ruined exterior.

"Smash!" A small green child, wearing glasses that were far too big for him, ran across the room, followed shortly by a child with long blonde hair wrapped up in a red cape, as though it were some kind of makeshift diaper.

"Explain." Bucky bluntly stated, clenching his jaw, as he cooed lightly at your cries that pierced the air. He bounced you in his arms, not quite certain of what he was supposed to do.

In his time, there wasn't exactly an education system to teach the men going to war how to parent, or even care for a child. A part of him panicked; it was you, he hated seeing you cry in general, but now he couldn't attempt to find out the cause for your falling tears.

"Aw is that y/n?" The man half dressed in his ant man suit asked, a bright smile on his face, as he reached out to hold you. To say Bucky was hesitant to pass you to him was an understatement. "I have a daughter, I've looked after a baby before."

"From jail?" The white wolf asked, as he heard a crash exhibit from the connecting room, obviously being the fault of the two most destructive avengers, or at least, their little versions. Being aged down was definitely certification for trouble, everyone knew that.

"Okay I wasn't in there for that long." Scott reassured him, he picked up a bottle of milk from the table, handing it to the metal armed man, whom had never fed a child before. He found himself, cautiously, keeping a watchful eye, passing you over to the former criminal, intently watching every movement that the man made.

Lange simply fed you. "Always thought you and y/n would have a cute baby, imagine its- oh yeah, well after all that stuff that happened with vision and SWORD, we thought it best to destroy any technology that was recovered from the old base. This part survived, and well, I went into its- okay, you don't want to hear the science, but basically Thor insisted he could break it with his hammer, albeit whilst I was inside of it, and it sent energy around the room that turned them into pubescent children."

"I can see that it did nothing to you. And I thought Morgan did it.”

"I was so relieved, lucky I- wait, was that an insult?" Bucky remained primitively silent, and that answered Scott's question. The hero sighed, as you finished nursing, and your arms reached for Bucky, to whom he passed you to. “And I lied...”

He literally blamed a five year old for the screw up of grown men. Tony was going to thrive off this information, whence he knew that his daughter was in fact not the culprit.

"What do we do now?" He was eager to find a cure for this betrothed science. Those whom were responsible for your decrease in age, well, one was running around the compound, and the other, well, he was even younger than Morgan currently.

"You could wait twenty years, I mean you two already have quite a big age gap, and please don't kill me. I'm not sure that Cap would approve, I am a vital source to the team!"

"I'm not going to kill you tic tac. Or at least not at least until we fix these three."

"Phew." Scott wiped his brow, blowing air from his mouth. "Wait thre- oh yeah, the little guy carrying the hammer that is bigger than himself, and the

"Okay, we need someone smarter." Bucky sighed heavily, as he hugged you in thought. "You tried hitting it again with the hammer?"

"Oh my god, I could be worthy!" Gasped Scott, running off to the next room, only to come back limping, a pained expression on his face. "Little Asguardian bastard hit me!"

Bucky contained his smirk, and instead passed you to Lang, venturing into the other part of the lab, finding that Bruce was asleep, a blob of snot hanging from his nose, he could see the hammer in the middle of the room, almost as though it were waiting for him to attempt grabbing the handle, and Thor was-

The minuscule god jumped from one of the shelves, wrapping his arms around the front of Bucky’s neck, as he put all his weight on the super soldier’s back. In all practicality, Thor was strangling him, and Bucky tapped his arm, trying to convince him to let go.

“I know who Noobmaster69 is.” Thor quirked his head, lessening his hold, as he promptly awaited his now older friend to continue. “It’s, its- his name is Wade Wilson.”

“Wilson!” No, gosh no. Bucky stood completely, making sure to keep Thor in the vicinity, he needed him to be so so that he could reverse the affects on the son of Odin.

“Not Sam. Wade.” He had never met the man before, but god did he seem like a dick. When the pair of you were getting a taxi, the driver Dopinder just could not shut up about his friend, who liked to wear red, and had a kink for unicorns.

Wade certainly sounded like a weird one, but right now, his pass time was getting Thor to pick up that hammer. “Where can I find this Wade?” It practically left his mouth as a hiss, if the imagery and proven death supposed otherwise, he’d possibly think it was Loki instead.

“I will tell you, if you pick up that hammer, and hit it against that old machine. Got it buddy?”

“It’s name is Stormbreaker!” Bellowed the norseman, who tried to slide off his back, but Bucky kept a hold of his legs, refraining him from going anywhere. “Get peter to do it, I don’t want to play that game anymore!”

“Uuh, hi Mr Barnes...” That voice, oh he knew it, and the majority of the time it irritated him, he was Tony's little pet. “And, baby avengers?”

“Don’t ask kid.” Peter nodded, as he went to reach for a spanner. “Can you pick the hammer up, are you worthy?”

“Am I worthy?” He wondered aloud, his eyes fixated on the hammer, as he stepped towards it, holding his hand out, and clasping his palm around the handle, it feeling weightless in his grip, as he picked it up without effort. “Oh my god (it’s Robert Downey Junior)!”

“Great, now take it out there, I’ll deal with these two. And don’t do anything yet.” He was certainly feeling like a sergeant, throwing all the orders to the others, Peter complied, carrying the hammer as though it were an empty duffel.

“Can I try?” Instantly, after Peter passing it to him, Scott had such hope, until the force of gravity hit, and it fell on his foot, causing a light scream to ripple through his throat. “Get it off, get it off!”

Peter did so, as Bucky kept Thor on his shoulders, and grabbed a hold of Bruce’s chubby little ankle, dragging him into the other room. “Shit he’s heavy.” He saw that you were sat in the grand spinny chair, making Bucky relived that you weren’t in Lang’s arms as he attempted to have a moment of worthiness.

“What’d you do, go all Winter soldier on his ass and knock him out?!” Half screamed the prodigy of Hank Pym.

“Of course not, I think Thor did it.”

“Oh yeah, blame the kid because I did the same.”

“Put your suit from Stark on kid, unless you want to become a fetus.” Bucky ignored Scott for the moment,

“I got Hope to send her outfit, it will stretch to accommodate you, but I also think it would hug your shape nicely.”

“That was fast.” Muttered Peter, and Bucky shook his head, eyeing the outfit with weird eyes.

“I’m crazy, but not crazy enough to wear that.” Sighing, he grasped it in his hands, walking to the other room to squeeze into it. He noticed you watching, and thus he turned the chair around so that you couldn’t see anything. Little did he realise until he came out, that you had spun it around again, and was giggling. “Don’t laugh at me, or you won’t be allowed to see it when you’re returned to normal.”

A pout settled on your small lips, and it appeared as though you were getting ready to cry again, but before you could do so, a distraction intervened. An uninvited, and confusing one.

“Stop. Can I just say, that is some cruel declaration for the both of you, you’re my fave ship, after me and Hugh Jackman of course, but he doesn’t even know that this version of me exists.” A newfound imposter called out, his arms raised in the air. Leather gloves crinkled as he twitched his fingers, his white eyes freaking Scott the fuck out. “May I join you on this journey? I read about you guys in comics. And can I just say, I want to see these hunks and that hottie all grown up.”

“You want to see me go Winter Soldier on someone Lang?” Bucky gritted his teeth, prepared to murder this man for ever posing such words about you into the open air. Him speaking obviously drew some attention to him though, but it was not his rage that was mentioned, instead, it was his attire- or well, Hope’s.

“Nice suit Buck Buck. Can you do a twirl for me, I wanna see if it competes with America’s ass. Damn, does that man have some buns on him.”

“I know right!” Scott eagerly agreed, earning a smack in the nuts, to which had made him close to crumbling.“You had to use the metal hand, didn’t you.” Whimpered the Ant to the false Wasp, clamping his hands over his goods as he half hunched over. “I thought you often forgot to use it coz your right handed.”

“You’re on my left.” Gross, he sounded like Sam.

“Who the hell are you?” Thor spoke, and it felt familiar on his tongue. It was as though he had asked an enemy the same thing before...

“I, am Noobmaster69.”

“Hi, I’m Peter. Oh, we’re using our made up names, I thought Sam said it was that guy from that tech place.” Peter scratched his head through the mask, providing a small verbal distraction, as Thor willingly set himself free, launching at the intruder, whilst snatching the hammer from a suited up Peter.

“Aaasrrrghh.” He screamed like a true deity of the vikings.

“Thor, no!” Lang screamed, knowing that he’d have to come up with another excuse. The cameras had been fused whence Thor had first struck the hammer in the room, and it abused the guy in the red suit as he went for his legs, attacking the friend of Dopinder.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky imagine #imagines #imagine #xreader #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #mcu x you #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #mcu ff #mcu fanfiction #mcu fluff #marvel reader insert #marvel request #avengers oneshot #avengers x you #avengers imagine #avengers x fem!reader #marvel crack fic #marvel crack

[the-insomniac-emporium]

I love your writing.

if it's not too much trouble may i make a request? I'm thinking the Dimitrescu women meeting and/or courting a fellow immortal.

the circumstances of the immortal's powers and possession of immorality are entirely up to you. I just like the idea of them meeting someone they could literally spend forever with...because they deserve it ❤

I wasn't sure if you wanted a story or headcanons? I went with HCs, here, but if you wanted more of a drabble or whatever just lemme know and I'll write something like that.

Also, I got excited and carried away so this has the whole Dimitrescu family, plus shorter ones for both Mother Miranda and Donna. Admittedly Alcina's is also a little on the shorter side? I tried to write everything that came to mind, but I am kinda tired right now, sorry. Might reblog this and add some more later.

(Under read-more for length)

Cassandra:

Tries (and fails) to hide her excitement. Mortality is one of the bigger things that has made her keep her distance to others, at least in the past. Every Maiden she’s ever been the slightest bit smitten with, up until this point, has been incredibly fragile. Seeing as she’s not exactly the softest person, one can easily imagine why that would be a turn off for her. But now that’s no longer a problem!

On the other had… having an immortal partner gives Cassandra pause. Why? Because what if they breakup? Normally, she can just, ahem, “dispose” of any exes (regardless of how much it hurts) so she doesn’t have to see them/deal with them anymore. If that’s not an option, she’ll definitely take longer than usual to do anything about her feelings. She wants to be sure, 100%, before she gets in over her head. Chances are she won’t hold back for as long as she wants though.

Likely to have a loud, messy confession. She’ll have been avoiding you for a few days, always ducking out of whatever rooms you enter, leaving you both hurt and confused. After enlisting the help of her sisters, you’ll be able to corner her outside. She’ll tell you, under no uncertain circumstances, to leave her alone. But you’ll refuse, demanding an explanation.

“I thought we had something. I thought you cared,” you’ll snap, eyes watering. “If that’s changed… if I was wrong, just tell me. I’ll leave and I’ll never come back.” Cue thunder and raining (because tropes) and Cassandra dramatically pulling you into a kiss, holding you so tightly you think you might bruise. Then she’s demanding that you stay, refusing to apologize but making it clear just how much she does care.

Being immortal, you’re not as defenseless as some of Cassandra’s past interests. Naturally, she doesn’t get quite as protective as she normally would. She’ll still have your back no matter what, ready to fight by your side against any foe, and will probably consider doing so a “fun bonding activity”. Oh, some lycans are encroaching on Dimitrescu territory? Time to go destroy them, as a power couple!

Despite having all the time in the world, Cassandra won’t change much of her actual courting behavior, nor the rate at which things advance. She’s still gonna get handsy fairly early on, still gonna “rah!” at you in the hallways, and still going to struggle with her jealousy.

Immortality Compatibility: I can see Cassandra going for another vampire (or vampire adjacent) creature, or someone demonic. She likes her lovers a bit rough, with some nice bite to their personalities. If you’ve got sharp teeth, or claws, or glowing eyes? Oh boy, she’s gonna be making heart eyes at you all the time.

Bela:

If your immortality isn’t immediately obvious, Bela is over the moon with joy when she finds out. Her eyes will go wide for a moment, before she tries to seem calm (so as to not freak you out), but her heart is pounding. This is what she’s been hoping for. As much as Mother Miranda has done for her family, there’s no guarantee that she’d be willing to give more. Even if Miranda granted Bela’s lover her “gift”, there was no telling what the results would be, or if the lover would survive. Now that there’s no need for such a transformation, it’s far easier for Bela to imagine herself in love (and eventually be in love).

Slow-burn romance over a decade or longer, oops. Doesn’t even necessarily mean to take things so slowly, just doesn’t feel a need to rush things, preferring that they develop organically. With both of you having unlimited time, you’re both used to working on a very large timescale. Maidens watching the two of you probably place bets on how long it’ll take you to hold hands for the first time. Everyone knows it’s coming, but no matter how much Cassandra and Daniela complain, Bela refuses to jump into things. By the time the two of you are officially together, you’re probably madly in love with each other.

More protective than Cassandra, if only because she knows just how rare you are. Immortal or not, you likely still have a weakness, and Bela will do everything in her power to make sure no one else knows what it is. If applicable, she will also ensure she has a countermeasure readily available. For example: If you were weak to fire, she’d make sure that the castle keeps extinguishers handy, just in case. Though they should probably already do that. Not that the Dimitrescu family cares much for OSHA compliance.

Somehow grows more in love with you with every passing year, and makes sure that you know this. Whether you’ve been together for one year or one century (because in this house we ignore canon), she’s always performing little acts of love, giving constant reminders of how strongly she feels. Gifts, special dates, book recommendations, etc.

Immortality Compatibility: Bela seems like the type to go for someone with a calming presence, and perhaps somewhat of a contrast to herself. I can picture her with someone somewhat angelic, or druidic, someone very in tune with nature. She’d love to feed deer with you and relax in the forest! Or lay against a tree by your side, listening to you talk about various microorganisms for hours at a time.

Daniela:

Practically tackles you when she finds out/connects the dots. This is just like one of her romance novels, where a lonely (attractive as fuck) immortal spends years in isolation before finally meeting the love of their life, who they get to spend the rest of eternity with. Absolutely ecstatic about the whole situation. Won’t stop kissing you and pulling you close, rambling about how great it’s gonna be to spend your lives together. Honestly? Kind of overwhelming. You might have to remind her a few times that you don’t have to rush into things, considering you have all the time in the world.

Introduces you to people as her “super cool/rad immortal life partner”. Genuinely cannot bring herself to not brag about you. If her sisters haven’t found someone like you yet, you can bet that Daniela will tease them about it all the time (much to their annoyance). If Momma Alcina doesn’t, though? Dani will keep her thoughts to herself, thank you very much (being grounded at her age does not impress the s/o).

Tries not to show it, but she’s actually very nervous. You’re immortal! You’ve probably seen a lot of shit (she certainly has)! Worries about keeping you interested in her, though she would never admit it. This tends to lead to her performing ridiculous acts to showcase her affection, regardless of the cost or, like, whether or not you’d even enjoy whatever she has planned. In order to counter her anxiety, you’ll want to reassure her whenever you can, and give her plenty of “I love you”s.

Strikes a decent balance between Cassandra’s nonchalant attitude and Bela’s protectiveness. Will defend you if you need it, playing up the romantic aspect, but also entirely willing to hide behind you in a scary situation.

Immortality Compatibility: Having probably read Twilight… Dani would date a werewolf, as long as they weren’t the smelly kind. Also interested in a sort of “magical”/elemental type, especially if their powers are influenced by emotions. In other words, if someone flirts with her in front of you, and your response is to subconsciously light your hands/the other person on fire? She thinks that’s hot, pun intended.

Alcina:

“Oh? Interesting,” she’d say, smiling softly (and trying to ignore the heat rushing to her face). Similarly to Cassandra, she’d try to play it off, not wanting to seem too excited. And, well, she’s not as excited as any of her daughters are. After all, she’s had more time than them to “get used” to the idea of outliving any potential romantic interests. So, she’s not exactly desperate for a relationship, even with someone she could spend an eternity with.

That being said, if she is romantically interested in them, she’s very relieved. Outliving a loved one can be incredibly traumatizing (fuck you c*pcom, you know what you did), and knowing that you’re safe (or at least safer than most) brings her no small amount of comfort.

Also, just glad to have another person close to her age around. Her daughters are somewhat stuck as young adults, and I imagine Alcina would want someone who gained immortality a little later in life, such as herself, as opposed to, ya know, reminding her of her children. That probably goes without saying. Hopefully.

More so than her daughters, Alcina would change her level of protectiveness depending on her s/o’s power level. If you’re a shapeshifter who can also turn into a big ass dragon? Then she’s not going to coddle you. If you’re immortal but still vulnerable, then she’s going to do her best to keep you safe, even going so far as to enlist the assistance of her daughters. “If you see a single Maiden growing mistletoe, or bringing some in from the village, let me know immediately,” or something like that, depending on your weakness.

Immortality Compatibility: Definitely would want someone in a situation similar to herself, having once been truly human, only to be “elevated” by something. Bonus points if you’re another disciple of Miranda, double bonus points if Miranda specifically “made” you to be Alcina’s boo/honey/darling/dear.

Bonus! Mother Miranda:

Oh god finally someone who won’t leave her (can’t leave her). No one can take you away from her, and that’s a relief that she’s been craving for over a century. Even if romance isn’t high on her priority list, she welcomes it with open arms, glad to have someone by her side through all of life’s chaos.

Admittedly slow to trust at first, probably just using you as a tool at first. But prove yourself enough, show that your devotion is more than just misdirected self-interest, and she’ll start to warm up to you. Forming a real relationship would likely take a couple decades, similar to with Bela. Once you are together, however, the two of you are inseparable in all matters.

You’d be her #1 follower, most trusted adviser, and the only person allowed to understand 100% of her thoughts and motives. While Miranda wouldn’t allow you to be seen as the same level as her (sorry), you’d still be a legend among the villagers. To them, you’re Mother Miranda’s champion, the epitome of a devoted follower that they all aspire to emulate. Not that they know the two of you are a couple, though.

Immortality Compatibility: No gimmicks, no cheap tricks, she wants (and respects) a fellow scientist, someone who clawed their way through adversity and forged themselves into something indestructible. Double the interest if you did so for a similar cause to her own, as she would appreciate your ability to relate to her suffering.

Bonus! Donna:

Someone to play with! FOREVER! No more losing people she cares about, no more accidentally breaking people, no more people scrambling to leave. Now that she has you, she can finally spend some quality time with another (living?) person. Honestly her dolls (or at least Angie) are just as excited as she is. Regardless of her relations with the other three Lords, Donna much prefers the company of a lover.

For real though she’s shy as hell and you might not even realize who’s pulling the strings until you’ve been in her house for over a year. She’d probably use her powers to trap you inside, at least at first, though they’d be nice hallucinations. You’d have to treat the dolls nicely, especially Angie, before she’d let you interact with her.

Eventually you’d be allowed to leave, and you’d be given a key to return whenever you wanted to. Assuming that you do, in fact, come back, the two of you would have a very, very slow romance, if only because of Donna’s anxiety. Hand holding makes both of your faces turn beet red, seriously.

Immortality Compatibility: *chanting* GHOST GIRLFRIEND GHOST GIRLFRIEND POLTERGEIST PARTNER POLTERGEIST PARTNER WOOHOO! Something with a flexible, only-sometimes-tangible form, who absolutely could have left at any time but didn’t because they wanted to stay.

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #mother miranda x reader #donna beneviento x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village

[genshin-impacted]

lost & found // Diluc x Reader (1/3)

Word Count: ~3.3k 

Notes: GN!Reader, Seelie!Reader, Diluc/Reader, what more can I say? You’re a cute seelie following Diluc around

Summary: Vaguely remembering the time when you were once human, you are a mini seelie roaming the outskirts of Mondstadt when you find Diluc and decide to follow him-- though he does his share of following you too, through the best and worst of your adventures together. 

“You’re more of a radar for trouble than treasure, aren’t you,” Diluc says rather than asks you, though his fondness is clear to see. You can only do a bashful swirl in response. 

-

Alternatively: As a seelie, you’re terrible at leading Diluc towards treasure without running into hoards of hilichurls or enemies alike, but he follows you anyways. 

[Part 2]

.

.

You are a seelie. 

You aren’t quite sure what that is, but you know for a fact that the wispy reflection that you see in the lake is you. No hands, no legs, no head, no heart-- though you remember when you had all that before. You can feel yourself breathe, but you also know you would be fine without it. You touch the water and vaguely feel its coolness and register that it is wet, but you aren't sure what is touching the water or how you know what it feels like. 

You are able to fly. You rise, and you fall, and you twirl in midair, and you know you have never been able to do this until now. "This is nice," you find yourself saying, but your voice comes out garbled and high, so you stop. You suppose losing your speech is the price to pay for the power of flight.

You don't know how long you wandered until you find something familiar to you. In a land of slimes, aggressive flowers, and crystalized butterflies, it's hard for you to take everything in at once. But you can recognize a human when you see one. (It would be difficult not to. You were once human, too, if you can remember.)

The human is strikingly distinct as far as humans go. With bright red hair, the man in black leans against the tree by the lakeside and watches the water lap up against the short cliff. You don't make snap judgments, not usually, but when you see the man in black, you can't help that your first thoughts are that he looks lonely.

You float to him steadily from what you hope is outside of his sight, curious enough to approach and observe what you can of him without being seen. 

Except, the moment you fly near him, he looks directly at you. (Apparently, you glow, if the light that you shine on his face is not enough of an indicator of your bioluminescence.)

You freeze in mid-air, or as much as you can as a globby orb of light. You wait with bated breath as he watches you as intently as you watched him, and you take a glimpse at what your light has allowed you to see: bright red eyes to match his hair. (You've never seen so much red on a person. And red-red too, not just the orange-y red you've seen people with.) 

Not knowing what else to do, you decide to do a somersault. (You think if you were still a human, you’d attempt to crack a joke or start a conversation to break the ice, but alas.)

You expect him to start doing something-- anything. But the man continues to look at you, though with less of a guarded expression and more of a curious one instead. 

You almost feel offended by the strange look he gives you, but then you see his lips uplift into a small smile and you forgive him. For good measure, you twirl in the air and, when he simply follows you with his eyes, you circle around his head like a halo.

"You're a different type of seelie, aren't you?" He says, his arms still crossed when you fly down to smush your face against the red gem at his collar and the Vision at his waist. You loop around his legs and try to lift his fur-lined coattails, only for him to lift it up himself and shoot you a raised brow. "Did you want me to follow you?"

Follow you? You wonder, why would he want to follow you? You don't think you have anywhere to be, let alone anywhere to lead him to. 

Now how to convey that to him…

The red-head watches you as you shake yourself side-to-side in what you hope looked like the shake of a head. "Ah… That's a no, then. I see," he says. He chuckles when you chirp in joy, looping up again. 

He pushes himself off the tree and walks on the path, toward the mansion in the distance. You follow closely behind him. A few steps in, he turns to you-- and you almost feel bashful enough to droop in height.

"Are you following me on purpose?" He asks.

You swirl up and eagerly bob your head. You wish you could ask, but the only thing you can do is trill-- which seems to do the trick when you hear the man huff in amusement before beginning to walk again. "Well, hurry up then," he says, and you chirp once before speeding up to catch to him in record-speed flying. 

(If you accidentally crash into his back at your eagerness, you think the shake of his shoulders in his laughter is only good signs of the beginning of a friendship.)

.

.

.

You hope the man you’ve decided to follow doesn't mind that all you can do is trill and twirl in the air. You make for a poor partner in conversation, considering you cannot supply the words to respond, but you think he at least finds you amusing at least if the small smile on his face is anything of note. You think he looks rather charming like that, as opposed to his straight-faced somberness when he was alone. Very mysterious, you think to yourself, must be popular.

When you follow him and see groves of grapevines and a mansion of formidable size, you think perhaps his rugged handsomeness and broodingly mysterious nature aren’t his only charm points. 

(You wonder if you can eat. You press where you think your mouth should be onto a bunch of grapes only to be disappointed by a lack of action. 

"What are you doing?" The man's voice calls out to you, amusement laced into his words. You turn around and speed back to him, feigning innocence.) 

The two of you enter the confines of Dawn Winery-- or so you read from a sign. You watch curiously as your mysterious man waves his hand in greeting when a few maids bow respectfully and follow him into the back where a man waits by a wheelbarrow.

"Master Diluc," the man says, and you are elated to finally put a name to a face you've followed for a while now. The winery employee looks past him at you, and you instinctively hedge closer to Diluc, almost hiding behind his hair. "Is that… a seelie?"

"So it seems," Diluc replies, crossing his arms. He takes a look at you. "Though it has yet to guide me anywhere."

You let out an extended squeak of indignance that makes him laugh, uncrossing his arms before he turns back to the worker at hand to discuss business. 

You'll show him, you think huffily. You can guide him somewhere-- it's in your bones (metaphorically). You found him, didn't you? You reason, surely there is something innately Seelie about you that will lead him somewhere.

Most seelies, as you have learned from watching Diluc follow the larger blue seelies, guide people to a treasure chest or some kind of monetary reward for leading them back to their seelie courts. You wonder if they are programmed to know where they are supposed to go and if there is a natural pull to a certain place. You wonder if it's anything like your wandering curiosity similar to that of a child, hoping to see what lies ahead and barreling forth. 

Either way, you take the lead and Diluc follows you out into Teyvat.

And he follows you right into enemy territory.

The first time feels like an accident, and after Diluc destroys the encampment, he finds a box of artifacts as a reward for his battle prowess. (You've never seen so much burnt grass.) The second time you guide him into enemy territory feels like a coincidence. They were next to each other, and hey, Diluc is able to find an exquisite chest this time filled to the brim with mora.

The third time around, it is hard to argue otherwise.

"You're more of a radar for trouble than treasure, aren't you," Diluc comments, settling down onto a log as you (metaphorically) bury your head into your hands. To convey such emotion as a seelie, you droop to the ground as flat as you could possibly be at his feet.

"I'm kidding," he says, watching with quipped lips as you rise from the ground moodily. "We did get some treasure out of it, so it wasn't a total loss." He reaches out with his hand to gently brush over your front as he would a cat-- and you react as a cat would, preening into his hand. He lets out a huff of laughter. "Affectionate, aren't you?"

You do a bashful swirl.

.

.

.

You realize soon enough that most people would not call Diluc private or stoic. Charming, a man with a way with his words, succinct, and pleasant are only a few things you've heard people say about him. And you were right-- he is a popular man if the eyes that follow him and the dreamy sighs that come after he leaves is of any indication.

The mysteriously cool Diluc you meet on the first day is vastly different from the man that everyone else interacts with on a day to day basis. He's not charming all the time, but he has a way about him that exudes confidence and almost an elitist composure. In some ways, you are glad-- you don't have to hide away behind his collar or in his hair (you still do this, if you're honest, just because his hair is so fluffy), afraid to mar his pristine reputation as a local bad boy. And in other ways, you are a bit smug, to know a side of Diluc that he shows to very few people.

Kaeya is one of those few people you have seen Diluc act anything less than amicable towards. 

"I was hoping one day you would have someone at your side but I have to admit, Master Diluc," Kaeya says, propping his face on his hand in amusement, "this is not quite what I imagined."

You let out a titter of laughter at the difference between the two men's expressions as Kaeya pokes at your little translucent ears. Kaeya looks at you with mesmerizing amusement as Diluc glares at Kaeya over his wiped-clean glass like he would like to do nothing else but break it over the other's head. ("It wouldn't hurt that much," Kaeya tells you flippantly. "Not as much as the hangovers his drinks give me.")

"Don't you have somewhere better to be?"

"Not really, no." Kaeya replies, feigning hurt, "Why, don't want me here?"

"Never."

Kaeya gives you a pointed look akin to a puppy. "His words are colder than my Vision, mini seelie," he says to you. "Careful not to get frostbite now."

"You have the privilege of having earned my ire," Diluc says shortly. "Also," he slaps Kaeya on the back of his hand when he goes to pull at your ears, "stop that."

"Protective, aren't you?" Kaeya chuckles, watching as you gaze up at Diluc adoringly. "I think you're one phrase away from telling me to get my own mini seelie."

At this, you let out a long coo, flying up to bop Kaeya gently on his nose before going over to Diliuc and rubbing your face onto his cheeks. You hear Diluc let out another breath of laughter, and you feel his hand press you closer to him. “Are you comforting me?” He asks in amusement, and for once, he does not berate Kaeya for joining in with his laughter. 

“The pair the two of you make,” Kaeya drawls, picking up his glass of Death After Noon. “You’d fight wars for each other, wouldn’t you?”

Of course you would, you think, though there was very little you could do as a seelie-- and you forget that at times. 

To be fair, most of the time, Diluc didn’t seem to treat you any less than his traveling companion. You’re only reminded when you float on your own when he’s cleaning up the tavern and get chased by cats and birds alike, only to come flying home to Diluc blubbering about your near-death experiences (though was it even possible for you to die?). And when you try to, in attempts to help Diluc out, scold a rowdy customer into behaving by slamming your body into their face rapidly without doing any damage whatsoever.   

The two of you-- Seelie and Uncrowned King of Mondstadt-- were a pair of renown. (“Two peas in a pod,” Venti would say the first time you led Diluc to him at Starsnatch Cliff, and “always together like bread and butter,” he said to you two the second time you find him near Starfell Lake. And “are you two following me?” when Venti walks into the tavern for the third consecutive meeting.) And if you ever doubted that Diluc cared for you, you had to look no further than when you were stolen from Diluc’s side by treasure hoarders who didn’t know any better.

It is in these moments where you are viscerally reminded that you are a seelie-- a being meant to guide people to treasures-- and not what you have been for the past few-- weeks? months? by Diluc’s side. You realize that you’ve never been hurt in this form before when you are kidnapped. It didn’t occur to you that you could feel any pain, and you wonder why not when you can feel the softness of Diluc’s hair and the warmth of his hand-- all gentle, loving gestures. Being squeezed by the treasurer hoarder’s hand feels suffocating, like your lungs being crushed under a massive, unrelenting weight.

It is not pleasant, to say the least, especially when they threaten you to take them to treasure that you know you cannot locate. 

Or can you? 

With convincing pulses of light, as though you’re approaching actual riches, you lead them where you lead people (or rather, just Diluc) best. 

The enemies of your enemies are your friends; you watch as an axed mitachurl spins around, chasing after the treasurer hunters who with varying degrees of fear, run away. They would have gotten away scot-free if they had not run into Diluc who had somehow found you before you could come back to him.

His phoenix burns bright especially in the moonless night, and Diluc takes care of two enemy camps that night. 

“Clever,” he says, making you preen, “leading them here. They really didn’t know what they signed up for when they started following you, did they?”

How did you find me? You trill, twirling around. And there should be no reasonable way for Diluc to understand what you’re trying to say, but he does anyways. 

“I just did what you usually do for me,” Diluc says, putting his hand up so you can gently land on it. Your glow illuminates his face in the softest shade of color. You watch as his lips turn up into a small smile. “I led myself to wherever the trouble was and knew I’d find you.” 

(Diluc will never tell you this for as long as you are a seelie, but the moment you do not come back to him when he finishes up his shift at Angel’s Share, his stomach drops. It shouldn’t have been hard to spot you, a glowing light, amongst the quiet, softly lit streets of Mondstadt, but he gives the city a quick lookover and cannot find you. 

He learns about the treasure hoarders from his connections and does not hesitate to take his broadsword with him and go looking for you. 

He runs into two other treasure hoarder camps and fights three groups of slimes before he finds the hilichurl camp you’ve led the hunters into, beyond relieved to see your familiar light in the distance.)

From that night, Diluc finds a mini seelie (you), sixteen anemo sigils, an old broadsword, mora, and a few treasure hunter insignias left behind. He gives you a sunsettia even though the both of you know you cannot eat, and you sit together at the edge of a cliff, watching the moon come out from its hiding place within the clouds. 

You have never felt safer.

.

.

.

You don’t really sleep, but every night you take your place by Diluc’s pillow and let time pass you by. Time feels different as a seelie, especially when you do not have Diluc to ground you to the schedule of a normal person. 

Though, if you were honest, it isn’t as though Diluc keeps regular hours himself. How many times have you bullied (read: squeaked at) him into turning in before dawn? How many times have you pressed your entire translucent body onto his face so he can take the hint to finally take a break? You vaguely remember being a human, and you think you should be abhorred by the amount of sleep Diluc isn’t taking, considering how good sleep can feel. 

On the bright side, Diluc has gotten more used to your antics that it only takes a little nagging from your end for him to turn the desk lamp off.

“You’re quite persistent,” he comments, following you with his eyes as you press your body into various spots in the ceiling above him. “I can’t tell if I’ve been blessed or cursed with you as some sort of guardian.”

Guardian seelie, you titter, spinning around with your ears outstretched as though you were an angel. Special isekai seelie, you laugh to yourself, and Diluc only watches you fondly as you float down. 

"’Stripped of all that the body once held close and the soul once held dear, song and memories are all that now remain of yesteryear,’” Diluc recites quietly as you look up to him. “‘The last singers-- the first Seelie-- they played their final tune in the halls of angels.’" 

What is that?

“It’s a song I remember hearing when I was a child,” he says, “about seelies and their origins. I don’t remember if there was anything else, but it came to me today when I was thinking of you.” You wait for him to continue as he dims the light, your glow the only thing illuminating the room other than the moon. “Most seelies want to go back to their seelie courts… but it doesn’t seem as though you want to.” He pauses. “Or is it that you don’t have a court to go back to?”

You stay silent. 

“Sorry, forget what I said. It doesn’t matter in the end anyways.” Diluc scoops you up from his lap to place you at your usual place on the other pillow by his head. You softly trill when he gently pets you, and whether you mean to or not, you glow just a bit brighter for a moment.

“Even if one day you decide to leave, the winery will always be open to you,” he says. “Adeleine and the rest of the maids will recognize you and let you in-- though I suppose the entirety of Mondstadt knows who you are by now so I guess I don’t have to worry about that, do I?” He smiles when you coo softly.

“Good night,” Diluc says to you, as he does every night, and sleeps knowing you cannot say it back in words, though he understands you regardless every time.

If you weren’t a seelie, would you have been able to be as close to Diluc as you are now? Would he still have cared about you to the extent he does now?

Even if these questions did not have the answers you wanted to hear, you think to yourself, as your heart warms (though you have no heart) from the sight of seeing Diluc’s even rise and fall of his chest, that you wish that you’d one day be able to say ‘good night’ back to him.

.

You can only watch the moon rise and dream.

#diluc ragnvindr #diluc/reader #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #mini seelie #genshin impact #genshin diluc #kaeya alberich #kaeya #diluc #my love letter to diluc here ya go buddy

[stvrchaser]

forgive me ( regulus arcturus black )

word count : 1,300

warnings : angst because i don’t know how to write anything else, death

summary : she takes it upon herself to destroy slytherin’s locket and mourns the life she’ll never share with regulus

There’s a calmness in the way the earth seemed to tremble beneath her feet. Like the rocking of the chair which used to lull her to sleep.

She wondered if he sat there now, her dear Regulus. Maybe he’d be vexed she hadn’t showed. She promised she would, after all. Well, better angry than worried.

He couldn’t know about what she’d done. Not yet.

He probably waited in her room with a present in hand.

She always insisted, “It’s only my birthday. Really, you shouldn’t fuss over it. There’s no need to get me anything.” And every time, he did just that.

Regulus was a stubborn boy. Clever, but incredibly stubborn. She admired his persistence— his courage and dedication to all that he cared about. She was happy she’d made sure to tell him that. She was pleased that he would know at least one person who was guaranteed to care for him. Always. She knew he didn’t get much of that.

But, again, he was stubborn. His curiosity could fuel his will to venture far, no matter the journey. But he had surpassed the limits. He had taken it too far.

Regulus discovered a secret better left untouched and forgotten. But this was Regulus, and so it was not.

——————————————

He snuck in through her bedroom window, as per usual. She had left it open for him. It didn’t matter that his family, too, were purebloods. The knowledge that the two of them spent time together, alone in her bedroom, would be scandalous. And so, it seemed like a normal afternoon, a mere continuation of the routine they had gotten used to.

But she noticed the way he stumbled in. Regulus had never been clumsy. And he walked carelessly, dragging his feet. He looked tranced— disturbed. So she stood from her rocking chair, dropping the book in her hand onto the small side table.

“Reg?” she spoke softly, trying to make out his features in the weak light.

“The thing he’s hiding. I’ve figured out what it is.”

Voldemort.

“Come,” she held her arm out, inviting him closer. She’d intended to get him to sit down, stop his swaying. But she found herself in his embrace. “What can I do?”

In their line of work, explanation was scarce. She had long since stopped asking “what happened” and went straight for assistance. This wasn’t the first time Regulus had sought her comfort while under Voldemort’s orders. She’d healed his wounds, dried his tears, perfected the dreamless drought to keep his terrors at bay.

Yes. She was quite familiar with his work.

“I shouldn’t have sent Kreacher,” he mumbled into her hair.

Regulus had always cared for Kreacher, no matter his age and bitter nature. She supposed that the house-elf was the first friend he’d ever made that wasn’t Sirius or one of the purebloods that his parents had insisted he befriended.

She made note to thank him for that someday.

“You didn’t have a choice.”

“He could have died.” His shoulders tensed. “He was… he nearly was.”

“I’m so sorry, Regulus.” It was a phrase she often uttered with a heavy heart. With so much sorrow and rage. With guilt. Regulus Black deserved the world and her ‘sorry’ wouldn’t suffice. It never would. It couldn’t make up for the sacrifices he’d made. Not for all that he’d lost.

“The world will set itself right someday.” ‘I’ll set it right for you,’ she said to herself.

“Not while He exists,” Regulus insisted with a shake of his head. “There’s no hope for this world when someone— some thing as vile as he can exist.”

“Light can have no purpose without darkness—“

“He’s split his soul.” Her grip on his arms tightened.

“What?”

“He’s taken a life to preserve a piece of his soul. He’s made a horcrux and I’ve just helped him keep it out of everyone’s reach.”

She sobbed at his confession— at the heart wrenching guilt in his tearful eyes.

What had this world done to him?

“It can’t be. The dark magic that it would have required—“

“He’s got it.”

She looked back at him with an open mouth, yet she couldn’t find it in herself to speak.

Horcruxes— they required an act so dark that a person’s soul was supposedly beyond redemption. It took intent— a sickening willingness to take a life in exchange for your own soul so that one could become immortal. Invincible.

“I didn’t— I should have known. I should have guessed what he… but it’s too late.” A cry tore through his throat. “Forgive me,” Regulus begged.

She held him closer, her hands running through the curled obsidian at the nape of his neck. She steadied his trembling body with hers, as if absorbing it. His fear seeped into her skin. But she let it. She always did. She welcomed his misery alongside his love, as well as every other aspect of him within her reach. He was intertwined with her nerves, carved into her bones.

So while she welcomed his pain, she made up her mind. Regulus would not suffer at the hands of the Dark Lord.

———————————————————

“Forgive me,” she sobbed at the skies. Her mind was distorted, seeing visions of him with every turn of her head. Even at the shut of her eyes.

She writhed in pain, the liquid running down her throat like sand, but Kreacher held a shaking hand to her chin as she had instructed him to do.

She had coaxed every bit of information from Regulus since the night of his visit. She had concocted a plan without his knowledge. Deceived him. Betrayed him.

He had trusted her with a plan. To destroy the damned locket and to risk his life doing it. Of course, she would not— could not— let him.

And she’d sworn to protect him, hadn’t she?

He’ll hate her when he finds out. And she knows he will, her wonderfully clever Regulus.

“Mistress mustn’t stop,” the house elf reminded her, but his voice was barely coherent between her sobs.

“He’s going to hate me, Kreacher. Regulus is going to hate me.”

The internal debate in his eyes were obvious. But Kreacher was loyal to her and, more importantly, Regulus. And he had ordered him to obey her as he would his family. Hence the reason she was so often addressed as his “Mistress.”

It was a shame she’d never know the joy of being his wife.

“This is for his safety,” she told him when he contemplated to tell Regulus about her plan. “It’ll always be for him.”

“Mistress has to drink,” Kreacher pleaded with tearful eyes.

“I can’t have him hating me,” she whispered through gasps of air. “Tell him I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Mistress needn’t apologize for wanting the young Master to live,” Kreacher responded with the last of the basin gathered in his hold. He held more emotion than she had ever seen in him. He tried to comfort her to the best of his abilities. To stay true to his word that he would protect Regulus at all costs.

Still, he looked ashamed. Full of grief like nothing she’d ever seen. She felt horrible for dragging him with her. For causing him the pain of disobeying Regulus’s orders to keep her safe.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done, Kreacher. For Regulus. For me. You’ve done your job well.” With she drank with one last sob as the liquid clawed at her throat. “Get the l- locket and l- leave. Take c- care of him. T- tell Regulus—“

She never did get to finish that sentence, but her pleads for forgiveness rattled in Kreacher’s head.

“Master Regulus could never hate his beloved Mistress,” the house elf cried at the sight of her lifeless eyes. “But Kreacher will do as Mistress says for he serves the most Noble House of Black.”

#regulus arcturus black #regulus black x reader #regulus x y/n #angst #one shot #death trope #regulus black #marauders era #fanfiction #imagine #fanfic #harry potter au #there’s no purpose to this #i was just sad

[stitchwork-madness26]

ASL

Paring: mag agent torture x scientist reader

Warning:so much fluff

Note: a sequel to-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several days without tor had been pretty...rough.

You had other work piled on your desk from new things coming up and causing more trouble. Such as the scrapeface incident and the boss getting attacked by the anti-A.A.H.W recently, making you and your co-workers more busy then ever. However during your sudden disappearance tor had been unsettlingly quiet, usually he would cause some sort of ruckus assuming something had happened to you or even some damage to the room he reside in but no. Nothing. Not even the smallest of noises he can muster.

It made you worried, almost terrified. You assumed he was scrapped by his destruction in the past or his unsuccessful attempt to destroy hank j wimbleton, but it cant be that. Hes to valuable to be let go right?

The anxiety from the unnatural silence and 5 cups of coffee in your system made your mind race like a rollercoaster, you want to see him its been to long, to silent.

You want to know hes ok, for him to show you the smallest acts of affection he always gave you. Anything to make you feel better...

Writing in your notes with a shakey hand you heard someone walk in your office, you couldn't hear them at 1st because of your mind running a million miles a hour and trying to focus on your work until you felt their hand on your shoulder. "Hey" they said calmly, you stopped moving the pen on your hand and looked up at them, a co-worker you talked with a few times before stood there and awkwardly pulled their hand away "sorry uh...look we kinda need help with project torture real quick and i was told to get you" they said nervously "what happened?" You asked almost instantly, hoping it was something far from the worst possible scenarios in your mind. "Nothing serious its just uh...hes starting to get aggressive again. He almost broke down the walls again. The higher ups said you know what to do" they explained.

A sigh escapes you and you stand "sure ill go take a look" you said trying your best to not sound happy and walk past them to leave your office.

You walked the same way as before, down the hall and to the large metal door. The door now has large dents and the wal around has cracks and chipped paint, almost ready to collapse with a few more hits. You cross your fingers hoping the card reader still works and surprisingly it did, however you had to make your way through the cracked door as the dents made it difficult to open.

The lights flicker a bit as they looked like it was hit with a fist and you saw torture in the same place you last saw him, his head lowered down.

"Hey big guy" you greeted with so much relief in your tone, he perks up his head and his hands almost visibly shake at the sight of you. You smile up at him, his visible excitement was so cute to you "i missed you too tor" you announced "im glad your ok" you continued. His large hand scooping you up and he held you against his chest, you no longer felt surprised as his large hugs now became his standard greeting, you hugged him back hearing his purring as you do so.

After a long moment he gently sets you back down on the floor "you had been pretty quiet lately huh...?" There was a hum in response "what made you so calm?" You asked, tor gave no reply at 1st he just stares at you for a few seconds which felt like hours. He hums and helds up a hand and signs "y-o-u a-r-e p-r-e-t-t-y" slowly.

You was so shocked,almost bamboozled, he never knew sign language till now.

"When did you learn that big guy?" You asked with your face growing warm "w-h-i-l-e g-o-n-e" he signed, missing a word or 2 as he is apparently still learning "w-a-n-t t-o t-a-l-k" he continued, accidentally signing some wrong letters but you still got the idea of what he was trying to say "thats so sweet of you tor....im touched" you smiled at him. You can tell he was overwhelmed by joy a bit even if it was hard to smile from the large nailes in his head "c-u-t-e" he signed again, you get red in the face "you just wanted to compliment me a lot in sign language dont you?" You let out a small laugh at how cute it is as he nodded at you.

He only had 3 compliments to give as hes still learning ASL such as "cute" "pretty" and "charm" which you assume is him calling you "charming" you still appreciate it though. It gets you flustered everytime.

Unfortunately you had to leave to get back to work soon...so he promised he wont cause destruction while you are away by placing a hand on his chest and one in the air which made you laugh a bit. He gave you another large hug before you left to get back to work.

Your mind is now at ease.

#madness combat #madcom #madness combat x reader #madcom x reader #mag agent torture x reader #mag agent torture #mc torture #torture x reader #torture my beloved #stitchwork stories

[farkmagic]

My BRUH @jayjaymorgan wrote sum angsty sht and wanted me to draw an illustration.

So here we go again

Author's Note : this is my second time writing something that will be published anywhere - so far the feedback has been really nice and I really hope it stays that way. Please remember that English isn't my native language and I wrote it in one day, so there might be some mistakes and stuff. I hope you all like it, have a great day/night!

TW : mention of severe injury, near death experience

It was supposed to be an easy mission.

No Siths, no tactical droids, just a couple of clankers and geonosians. General Skywalker and 501st had to steal some plans and destroy the small base on the planet’s surface, that’s all.

When they realized that someone lied to them about their opponents numbers, it was already too late. The whole squad was sitting on a small landing platform, surrounded by droids, trying their best to take cover and survive until the rescue arrives. Rex and Anakin were trapped on the opposite side of the platform, without any support.

The worst part of all... Grievous unexpectedly showed up.

Rex was the first one to spot him, but he didn’t have time to warn the general, who was trying to protect his men from droids. Anakin was too busy deflecting bullets to notice the cyborg getting dangerously close.

Only when he was shot in his left arm and turned around did he notice the Sith. Instinctively he raised his saber to block Grievous’s death blow, but it was so strong it knocked the blade out of his hand. Anakin lost his balance and stepped back, which saved his life. Cyborg’s claws, that were aiming at his neck, ripped open his side, from his ribs to lower hip. Skywalker doubled over, pressing his hands against the wound that gushed blood, taking a few steps back. There was shock on his face, like he couldn't believe what was happening, as he watched the blood dripping onto the metal floor of the landing platform.

Rex froze in place, watching it from afar; only he noticed the fight, the rest of the squad was busy fighting with the clankers. He could feel the blood draining from his face, he could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears, his mind was screaming at him to do something, anything, but he couldn’t move.

He could only watch, as Grievous attacked again, pushing the man from the platform.

He could only watch, as his beloved hit the ground, painting the sand red.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, even when one of the droid’s almost shot him.

Only when he heard Grievous laughing sinisterly he finally snapped out of it. His blood boiled with rage, as he slowly stood up, tossing his empty pistol to the side.

When the cyborg bent down to pick up Anakin’s saber, all hell broke loose.

For a moment all Rex saw was red.

The next thing he knew, he was ripping off one of Grievous’s four arms. The alien growled angrily and hit the clone with his claws, scratching his face. Rex ignored it and twisted the metal appendage, breaking it in half. Sith yelled and punched him in the face, breaking his nose. Rex’s eyes watered, as he stumbled back, giving Grievous the opportunity to escape; he dashed to the hangar and disappeared, leaving the droids to fend for themselves.

He could hear his brothers screaming in surprise and joy, as the separatist droids started to back away. The clones resumed the fire, making their way back into the base, placing the explosives on the walls and ceiling of the base.

Rex jumped to his feet and rushed to the edge of the platform, as he unhooked the rope from his belt and quickly tied it around a metal bar, preparing to go down and check on his boyfriend. His hands were trembling uncontrollably and tears started to fill his eyes, his mind racing.

Rex didn’t even wait for his feet to touch the ground; he jumped the last three or four meters down and then, ignoring the pain in his ankle, ran towards Anakin.

His heart sank.

Blood was everywhere; the sand around Skywalker was crimson-red, his clothes torn on his left side, reveling deep claw marks. There was a big gash on his head, he probably hit his head while falling, there was blood coming from his nose and even ear. He was pale as a sheet, dark circles started to appear under his eyes.

But he was still breathing.

Rex fell to his knees, trying to not look at the deep wounds, and gently touched Anakin’s face.

His skin was so cold.

“Ani?” he choked out, as tears started to stream down his face. “Ani... please, wake up.”

The Jedi didn’t react, he was unconscious and losing blood at alarming speed.

Rex picked up his radio communicator, his eyes still focused on Anakin’s face.

“Kix? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, sir. Loud and clear.” the medic said. “We’re almost done with the explosives, the plans are downloaded and secured.”

“General needs medical help.” Rex tried his best to act calm, but it was getting harder and harder with every passing second. “Track my location and hurry, he doesn’t have much time.”

“Roger that. The transport arrived, we’ll be there in a moment.”

How could it go so terribly wrong?

This question was repeating in Rex’s head, as he tried his best to keep Anakin’s head and neck still.

Tears were streaming down his face, mixing with blood and falling down on the unconscious man’s face. Choked sobs were escaping his lips, while he scanned the sky with his eyes, waiting for help.

“Hold on, help is coming” he whispered over and over again, even though Anakin couldn’t hear him. “Please, just hold on... They’re gonna fix you up, I promise, just...”

...just don’t leave me.

#anakin skywalker #clone trooper rex #fanart #rexwalker #clone wars

[picsofsannyas]

OSHO, FOR MOST OF MY LIFE I HAVE HELD MYSELF ALOOF, SEPARATE AND ISOLATED, AND I HAVE THEREFORE BEEN PROTECTED FROM PEOPLE AND SITUATIONS. MY INNERMOST FEAR HAS ALWAYS BEEN THAT IF I OPENED MY HEART TOTALLY THE VAST LOVE THAT I FEEL WOULD RUSH OUT LIKE WATER FROM AN OVERFLOWING WELL AND BE LOST, DIVERTED OR REJECTED. MY ESSENCE IS LIKE A DELICATE FLOWER AND IF IT BLOSSOMED IN THE WRONG TERRAIN IT COULD EASILY BE BADLY BRUISED OR DESTROYED. THIS IS MY FEAR. IS THIS THE TIME AND PLACE TO OPEN MY HEART TOTALLY?

Tom Cassidy,

It is one of the most basic fears of all human beings. This is the fear that has created the monks and the nuns. The whole past of humanity has been dominated by this fear -- like a cancer of the soul.

It looks very logical that if you share your love you will be wasting it and soon you will become poor. This is the ordinary law of economics: if you want to have more money don't share it, be miserly. Get as much as you can and give as little as possible. Then only can you accumulate, then you can be rich.

This is true as far as the outside world is concerned, but this is absolutely untrue about the inner world; there a totally different law functions. The inner law is: if you don't give you will lose; if you give you will keep. The more you give the more you will have; the less you give the less you will have. If you don't give at all then you will not have anything, you will be just utterly empty, a grave, and inside the grave there is no possibility of any flower blossoming. The flower needs the sun, the rain, the wind, the stars, the sky, the birds. Howsoever delicate it is, it needs to open up to existence. In that opening the fragrance is released, the imprisoned splendour is released.

Tom, you are basically a monk. The word 'monk' is significant; it means 'one who lives a lonely life', one who lives a life of no relationship, of no relatedness, of no love, of no sharing; who lives a windowless life closed on all sides, utterly closed in himself out of the fear that if he opens up, who knows what will happen to his tender heart, to his delicate inner being? He is afraid of rejection, he is afraid of situations, he is afraid of the unknown. He clings to himself, but this clinging only brings death. He may go on dragging for years, but that is not life, that is slow suicide.

The very word 'monk' means one who has decided to live a lonely life. From the same root comes 'monastery', where people live in loneliness. From the same word come word  like 'monopoly', 'monotony', 'monogamy' .

Trying to live on your own, unbridged with others, is the most dangerous idea that can possess anybody ever, and once it starts taking on religious colours then it becomes very difficult to get rid of it because it fulfils your ego, it nourishes all that is wrong in you, it destroys all that is beautiful in you. In a grave there is no possibility of roses flowering -- inside a grave -- but there is a possibility of snakes and scorpions and spiders -- all that is ugly, all that is poisonous. If the grave is completely closed its very air will be poison.

And millions of people are living the life of monks and nuns. They may not have gone to the monastery, they may be living with their wife, but closed, with their children, but closed. They may be living in the world but so guardedly, so cautiously, so calculatively that their life cannot have any joy, any dance, any song.

One needs a little courage to make life a celebration.

You say, Tom: FOR MOST OF MY LIFE I HAVE HELD MYSELF ALOOF...

You have been suicidal! Life means togetherness with existence, with the trees, with the rivers, with the rocks, with people. with animals, with all that is. To relate with it multi-dimensionally that's the only way to make your life rich. The more you relate. the more multi-dimensional you are. the rich you are, the more you grow, the more you blossom. There is still time. Drop this stupid idea of being aloof separated and isolated. That you can do after you die! Then you will have more than enough time. From your name it seems you are a Christian. Then you will have more than enough time -- till the Last Judgement Day! Then you can live in your grave as a monk, you can keep your Bible with you, you can keep your rosary. But while you are alive, while this immense opportunity is given to you, live it, rejoice in it!

Jesus says again and again to his disciples, 'Rejoice! Rejoice! I say again rejoice'. Jesus was not a monk, he was a very alive man. He lived with all kinds of people: the gamblers. the drunkards, the prostitutes, the sinners, the tax collectors. He and not with the idea of 'holier than thou', he lived with great friendliness. He enjoyed late parties, dances, music. And Believe me, he was not continuously giving gospels, he was gossiping too! And he was a drunkard, he loved wine -- he shared it with his disciples. Fasting was not his way but feasting!

Don't be monkish. To be a man is such a great opportunity that there is no need at all to waste it. And remember one thing: the things that you are afraid of...

... THAT IF I OPENED MY HEART TOTALLY THE VAST LOVE THAT I FEEL WOULD RUSH OUT LIKE WATER FROM AN OVERFLOWING WELL...

For whom are you feeling this vast love? Just for yourself? -- because love means to have a direction, an object. It is always addressed to somebody. To whom is your love addressed? You are like an unopened envelope: you have not even read what is written in the letter, you don't know whether the letter exists inside at all or if you are simply carrying an empty envelope. Unless you open the envelope you will never know. Open it!

And remember, the well never runs out because deep down the well is connected with the oceans. The oceans are continuously reaching it in small springs. In fact, if you don't draw the water out of the well it will die, because soon those springs will not be needed; they will become blocked. They will not be in use, they will lose their functioning, and the old water will become stale and dead, maybe poisonous. It is good for the well-being of the well to go on drawing water from it. The more water you take out, the more fresh streams of water go on reaching the well. The well is not disconnected from existence.

Your heart is certainly a well. If you keep it closed then you will not get energy flowing into you from the universe. Go on emptying yourself and you will be surprised -- you are in for a great surprise: the more you empty yourself, the fuller you are.

That's why Gautam the Buddha emphasized the word shunya, 'zero'. Become a zero! If you want to become full, his message is, just become empty, a nothingness, just space, pure space, unlimited space containing nothing. Just empty yourself totally and you will not be able to believe it -- a miracle happens. When you are utterly empty, the whole existence enters you.

All the stars are within you and all the flowers are within you, the sun and the moon are within you. Suddenly you see yourself as vast as the universe itself. To be nothing is the only way to be all. To be nobody is the only way to be divine. Emptiness brings godliness.

And don't be worried that your love will be lost -- nothing is ever lost. The world always contains the same amount of everything, neither less nor more. Now this is a scientific fact: there is not a single atom less than there ever was, not a single atom more than there ever was. The quantity of the universe remains absolutely the same, because from where can anything new come in? -- the existence contains all, there is 'nowhere else'. And where can anything go out? There is nowhere else to go, so nothing is ever lost. Maybe it takes a little longer to reach the right person, but it always reaches.

Sing the song and don't be worried! It will reach the right people at the right time, if not today then tomorrow, if not in your life then in some other time. But it will reach -- it is bound to reach! It will always find the right person who can absorb it. Simply sing the song. You should not be too concerned whom it reaches, your whole concern should be that you are singing it with totality, that's all; more than that is not required of anybody. It is not your business whether it has been heard or not. When a flower opens in the jungle it is not worried whether anybody will be passing by, 'to know the beautiful fragrance that I am releasing', it simply releases the fragrance. If it reaches to some nostrils, good; if it does not reach, so what? The flower has blossomed, it has offered itself to the universe. Now it is up to the universe to do whatsoever it wants to do with it. Nothing ever is lost and nothing is ever diverted and nothing is ever rejected. But people feel rejected many times because even before they have given something there is expectation; if their expectation is not fulfilled then they feel rejected. It is the expectation that is creating the trouble, not love. Give love without any strings attached to it. Give love for the sheer joy of giving. Enjoy giving it.

The cuckoo calling in the distance -- not worried at all whether anybody is enjoying it or not. The faraway star -- do you think it is concerned whether a poet is writing a beautiful poem about it or a Vincent van Gogh is painting it or a photographer or an astronomer are concerned about it? It is none of the business of the star. The joy is in shining forth.

Simply open up your heart, Tom Cassidy -- and open it totally, without any expectations, without any conditions and it is sure to reach to the right heart; it always happens.

When I started singing my song there was nobody to hear it then people started coming. I was surprised -- how did they hear? Why did these people go on coming? From all directions. from all over the world people started coming. How did you arrive here? And I was not waiting for anybody to come! I was just singing my song, I was enjoying it.

Just the other day one sannyasin asked, 'Osho, I have had one dream: in the dream I am sitting in Buddha Hall alone. And then you come, you sit in the chair, and I am very much puzzled because I am alone and there is nobody else in Buddha Hall, the whole of Buddha Hall is empty. And I am worried about what you are going to do!'

You need not be worried -- I will do my thing! I cannot leave you alone! I will talk to you for one and a half hours continuously. And you cannot escape either! When there are so many people, a few people can escape, but if you are alone where can you go? I will follow you! Without anybody there at all, even if you are not there and I am alone in Buddha Hall, I will sing my song.

Try it one day! I will still tell my jokes, and if there is nobody to laugh at them I will laugh myself -- if not at the joke because I know it already -- then just because I am laughing, laughing that there is nobody and I am telling a joke!

 How ridiculous!

Tom, don't be worried.

You say: MY ESSENCE IS LIKE A DELICATE FLOWER...

So let it be! It is beautiful it is a delicate flower. Let others also partake of its fragrance, let others also drink out of your well. And soon the flower will die -- by the evening it will be gone. So don't hide it, because even if you hide it you cannot save it. In the morning the rose opens its petals, in the evening the petals will wither away and the rose will be gone. Before it is gone let it be shared. Let the bees come and hum and let the birds sing, let the children play around it. Let everybody rejoice! Otherwise you will be dying unfulfilled.

It is a delicate flower, but the more delicate it is the more quickly one has to open it to existence, because one cannot wait for tomorrow -- it may not be there tomorrow.

And you are worried: IF IT BLOOMED IN THE WRONG TERRAIN... There is no wrong terrain anywhere. In fact, if a rose can blossom in a desert that will be the most beautiful terrain -- that will be an exceptional rose. If it can blossom among rocks then that rose must be a Buddha, not less than that, a Christ, not less than that. In the right terrain, in the garden, ordinary flowers blossom but extraordinary flowers blossom among the rocks too, in the deserts too. So don't be worried about the terrain, and don't be worried that IT COULD EASILY BE BADLY BRUISED OR DESTROYED.

Everything that is born is going to be destroyed, so before it is destroyed let it have its dance.

And you are asking me: IS THIS THE TIME AND PLACE TO OPEN MY HEART TOTALLY?

Every time and every place is the right place! And because you are here at this moment, let this be the place. Where can you find a better space, with people more beautiful, more accepting, more loving than you are surrounded by here in this Buddhafield?

Tom Cassidy, you have waited long enough -- don't wait anymore. This is the time. This is the moment. Never trust the next moment -- the tomorrow never comes. Now or never!

Osho.

Zen: Zest, Zip, Zap and Zing Chapter #12 Chapter title: Life: Let it have it's Dance

Qu. 1. 

#osho #monks #meditation #spirituality

[lostandsearching]

Her Loss

Pairings: Maria Hill/Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff/Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff/Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N is forever searching for her, the half of her soul that will free her form the pain in her heart. But what does she do when the roads fork into different paths and into different arms. How does she differentiate from true love and fleeting lust? Can she find the arms of her destined or will she simply doom herself and let them slip through her fingers.

Warnings: WandaVision elements used, swearing (maybe?)

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Here’s chapter 3 and we’re following our favourite little witchy! Just a shout out to @theperfectlovestory​ for being so patient and reading through my chapters. If you ain’t read her work, you’re missing out! As always, reblogs and feedback are welcome. Enjoy :)

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Tossing and turning, she shifts around in bed uncomfortably. Having been able to sleep the night before, exhaustion catching up to her, she is faced with another restless night. Her sleeping has improved over the months. The nights she cried to sleep was no longer a regular occurrence but she still had her difficulties.

The bed was always too unfamiliarly empty no matter how much time had passed. There was no weight by her side causing a dip in the mattress, no strong arms wrapped around her waist encasing her protectively and no cool body to nestle herself against. Her empty bed serves as just another reminder of everything she’s lost. The fates had been cruel to her, delivering her time and time again into loving arms only to rip them away from her far too soon.

Having accepted that sleep will not welcome her tonight, she looked towards the wall clock on her right. ‘It’s only four but I guess I can enjoy the quiet and watch the sunrise for a little while’ muttering to herself. She clambers out of bed throwing on a large dark blue jumper, his jumper, and a pair of jeans careful not to make any noise and stir the children next door.

She loves Clint’s children dearly and wholeheartedly. They accepted her, a stranger, as family without hesitation or fear of her abilities. Little Nate went so far as running to her with the widest grin on his face to proudly proclaim that he’s also named after her brother. This only brought happy tears to her eyes as she engulfed him in a hug. Yes, she loved them dearly and she couldn’t be more grateful to the retired archer and Laura for opening their home to her but sometimes it was too much.

The happy shrieks of laughing children reverberating off the walls, the gentle and loving touches between Laura and Clint, the pure love and pride in Clint’s eyes as he took in his family at the dinner table would sometimes be unbearable for Wanda. This was supposed to be the life she had with him. A home, he had secretly bought for them, in a place called Westview with two children at least. They would have dinner together as a family, watch their children grow up like no time has passed at all, even go trick-or-treating wearing silly family costumes. Her life would have been filled with love, laughter and warm embraces but he was gone, taking her dreams along with him.

Wanda quickly threw on her slippers and crept as quietly as possible out of the farmhouse, trying to avoid rousing the slumber of the ever attentive Hawkeye. He may need hearing aids but Wanda would bet anything that he wore them to bed to avoid being taken by surprise. One misstep on a creaky floorboard would have him rushing out with bow and arrow in hand, ready to protect his family from any intruder, only for her to flounder a lame excuse at her sneaking around at an ungodly hour.

Lady luck was on her side it would seem and she escaped the confines of the home without incident. She is instantly greeted by a cool and gentle breeze caressing her skin. She sits on the steps of the home looking up at the clear night sky as the sun teeters on the horizon, teasing the darkness with a warm glow. She lets her mind wander back to over a year ago, to the events that unfolded after her return from the now dubbed Blip.

//

One moment she had Vision’s lifeless body cradled against her as she sobs, only to be suddenly greeted by a strange man calling her to arms, Vision’s body nowhere to be found.

“The fate of the world needs you to come with me now if we are to have any hope in defeating Thanos” and with that he opened a portal and passed through, Wanda nipping at his heels.

She thrust herself into the chaotic battlefield, remnants of the destroyed compound strewn about, with only one goal in mind. He took the love of her life, he took her life and he’s taken her home. Thanos has taken everything from her and now she’ll make him pay.

She flew in engaging Thanos, bombarding him with all the rage coursing through her veins. Angry, red wisps encase the tyrant threatening to rip him apart but as she was within a hair’s breadth away from finding her revenge, hell fire reigned from the skies knocking her off her feet. The battle for the gauntlet waged on being passed from Avenger to Avenger in hopes of getting it to some rickety van in the distance.

When all hope seemed to be lost, the gauntlet fixed around Thanos’s hand once again with an arrogant line about inevitability escaping his lips, their one and only chance arrived.

“Stark! Now!” a sound shouts commandingly before a woman encompassed in light crashes into the purple titan throwing him back. In the few moments after the order, Tony flew into action and disabled the gauntlet remotely allowing it to fall from Thanos’s hand and to wrap itself around the ready fist of Captain Marvel.

“Yeah, I don’t think so” she retorts with a head tilt and a cocky grin painted on her face. ‘Snap’ the battlefield is once again being covered in ash but it is Thanos’s army that is falling to dust with himself crumbling soon after. Being exposed to gamma radiation in space for years and receiving power from the space stone made her more resilient to the after effects of using the infinity stones. Painful as it was, she would recover.

Wanda on the other hand wasn’t sure she would recover herself. Not only had she lost Vision and her home, in what felt like a matter of fleeting moments, she lost the chance at avenging him by her own hands. ‘He’s gone, this will have to be good enough’ she finally relents to herself.

It was only after the battle had ended, when Bruce and Captain Marvel, she later learned, had been tended to that she found out the true price of  her, and the half the universe’s return. Natasha Romanoff had given her life in exchange for the soul stone, she gave her life so the world could be set right.

The icy cold Black Widow had held her at arms-length after Wanda had entered the older woman’s mind at Ultron’s behest. At the battle of Sokovia Wanda tried to remedy her mistake and prove herself but lost her first home and the life of her brother, Pietro, instead. Clint quickly took it upon himself to care for the young witch and urged Natasha to give Wanda a chance. He believed she already paid a heavy price for her mistake, she doesn’t need to be punished anymore.

With many gruelling training sessions under the watchful eye of the Black Widow, a tentative bond slowly grew, one of mentorship and then eventually friendship. Natasha grew to care for Wanda like a younger sister, although she would never out rightly admit of her fondness to the other Avengers. Wanda learnt to appreciate that the harshness delivered in Natasha’s training had served to keep Wanda alive, to give her the tools to protect herself from their dangerous job.

She had lost another loved one, Natasha on a planet and in a time she couldn’t reach, she needed to get one of them back. She approached the only man she knew that would have the unending finances to find Vision’s body. Although she still doesn’t trust Tony Stark, his hubris being the reason for her parents’ death and then his pride being the reason she was locked away in the Raft like an animal, she believed that his intentions were only ever good, even if his methods were questionable at best. He swore on his daughter’s life, much to the surprise of Wanda only having learnt of Morgan, that he would find Vision for her. She will try to trust him once more.

The compound needed to be rebuilt and Stark needed to build another time machine so that the stones could be returned to their original time, cutting off the branches, at least that’s what was explained to her.

//

It took no time at all, considering Stark’s wealth and that the world was also eternally grateful for the return of their loved ones, for the Avengers compound to be rebuilt. Surprisingly, especially to Stark, she continued to stay at the cabin whilst the new time machine was being built. She couldn’t possibly go back to the compound with both her love and her sister being gone.

“Please bring her back, I can’t lose anyone else. I don’t know what I’d do” she pleads with her arms around the super soldier. She pulls back from their embrace, tears threatening to fall.

“I’ll bring her back Wanda, whatever it takes” Steve promises with finality and with a gentle squeeze of her hand, he steps into the portal.

Wanda stood there with bated breath, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. She squeezes herself tightly as if holding back a terrible force and its impending explosion from within, should Steve fail. It isn’t until Bruce speaks that she tempts fate by opening her eyes, fixed on the platform once more.

“5…4…3…2…1. Ha! It worked!” he yelps, fisting the air with joy.

Wanda couldn’t believe the sight in front of her, Steve kept his word. Forest green eyes land on hazel green ones. She wasn’t too sure what happened, one moment she was standing and the next moment, she was crumpled on the floor sobbing. She finally let the tears free fall, allowing the anguish, loss and small reprieve to wash over her. ‘She came back, someone came back’ a mantra repeating itself in her mind begging to be believed.

With all the agility and grace attributed to the Widow, Natasha leapt out of Steve’s arms to engulf the younger woman in hers. As is always in the Avengers’ lives, the joy of a win is forever marred with sorrow at the cost of gaining it.

The compound having already been built, Wanda finally returned with Natasha by her side. The Avengers home was no longer filled with mirth as it once was, trauma, loss and exhaustion hangs heavy in the air. Clint had chosen to stay at the compound temporarily, with his family, to spend time with Wanda and Natasha. Tony and Rhodey chose to retire, Captain Marvel had long since returned to space but promised to visit when she was in the galaxy, Thor chose to leave the Avengers to join The Guardians in space and Vision was gone.

It was a week after Natasha’s return, a week at the compound that Wanda finally got the call she so desperately needed.

“Hey witchy, how are you liking the new digs?” Tony jokes. Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes as anger began bubbling beneath the surface.

“I am not in the mood for your jokes Stark” her thick Sokovian accent slipping past the cracks of her control.

Tony lets out a heavy sigh before responding. “OK kid, this isn’t a social call. I promised I’d find him but I don’t think you’re gonna like what I’m about to tell you” he tries carefully.

Her eyes are consumed with whirls of red while her hand holds the phone in a vice-like grip. “Where is he Stark?” she says through gritted teeth.

“I tried to get his body released to me this morning, but they refused. I could spend every dime I have and liquidate all my assets, they still won’t let him go claiming that he is government property since he signed the Accords.” frustration clear in his voice.

“I will get the best lawyers on the case but it will take time be…”

“Where” she interrupts with a bite in her tone.

“S.W.O.R.D”

//

After the events of meeting Hayward and seeing what he had done to Vision, Wanda knew she had two choices. She opted for the latter. She called Natasha as soon as she left S.W.O.R.D’s offices making her way back to her car.

“Wanda, what’s going on? You ran…” Before she could finish her questioning, she is interrupted by Wanda’s broken voice.

“S.W.O.R.D have Vision’s body and they wouldn’t let me take him home to bury him. They’re tearing him apart like an OBJECT! He gave his LIFE and they won’t even let what’s left of him find PEACE!” her anger is replaced by breaking sobs wracking through her body, ending her ability to speak any further.

“Come home now. Clint and I will fix it” She commands calmly and confidently.

Just as Wanda was the female assassin’s younger sister, she was also the archer’s daughter. No-one messes with the two deadly assassins’ family and escapes unscathed.

True to the Widow name, Natasha seduced and hacked her way into S.W.O.R.D’s data server and extracted details on questionable S.W.O.R.D activities including Hayward’s isolated server with files and data on his less than legal proclivities.

Clint, being true to his ethos, was crawling through S.W.O.R.D ventilation shafts, planting well placed audio and visual recording devices, courtesy of Stark himself.

With all the pieces at hand, Natasha only needed the perfect person for the execution. Her love for Wanda saw her doing the unimaginable for the first time. She asked for help.

“Maria, I need you to do something for me. I need you to get Vision’s body from S.W.O.R.D. Clint and I have all the data you’ll need to make it happen” her steady voice not betraying the pounding in her heart.

“Why would I get on S.W.O.R.D’S radar exactly?” Maria responds emotionlessly. She would have done it without question of course, but she can’t let Natasha know that. After all, she has a reputation to maintain.

“Because I will owe you a favour” Natasha retorts through clenched teeth. A pregnant pause fills the air before Maria responds.

“Send me everything you have and give me 48 hours” without another word, Maria ends the call and Natasha releases a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding.

Maria, always a woman of her word, saw to it that 48 hours later Vision’s body was being returned to Wanda at the compound under S.H.I.E.L.D escort. Wanda may not have given her lover the death that he asked of her nor the vengeance that he was owed, but she could give him the burial that he deserved and the farewell she needed.

All the Avengers, including Rhodey, Tony and Thor, returned one last time to pay their respects, to honour their fallen ally and friend. Wanda laid to rest the love of her life and yet another piece of her heart.

//

“You know, you still aren’t as quiet as Nat” he teases taking a seat on the step beside her. “Penny for your thoughts?” he gently prods.

“Thinking about him” Wanda whispers, still unable to say Vision’s name since the funeral. “Thinking about what you, Nat and even Tony have done for me since”

He turns to look at the young woman and sees not only pain in her eyes, but a steady determination that wasn’t there before. He keeps quiet, allowing her to gather her thoughts without interruption.

“I think…no, I know I’m ready to go home Clint” she says with growing confidence. She finally turns to face the archer. She sees time, suffering and loss etched on his aging face but those are all muted by the brightness in his blue-grey eyes full of love and pride.

Wanda has survived the loss of her parents, her brother, her first home and her lover. She’s tired of surviving and she is finally ready to go home to start living.

“I’ll tell Nat so she can get a jet ready and prepared for you” and with that, they spend the last few moments together, sitting in silence and basking in the warm glow of the sunrise full of hope and gentle promises. 

Chapter Four

#marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic #avengers imagine #wanda x reader #wanda x fem reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlett witch #scarlett witch x reader #scarlett witch x fem reader #scarlett witch x you #scarlett witch x y/n #scarlett witch imagine #elizabeth olsen

[darlingyanderes]

Ok then so would would dragon trainer izuku for if his dragon darling ran away would he take them to a or his sanctuary? I think you should do more of these fantasy settings since you and the readers seem to be enjoying these we can just imagine the surrounding and everything! Also take care don't over do yourself 💚💚💚

Damn anon you just found the way to my heart, thank you for requesting this!! Sorry it took a while to post this, I might have gone wayyy too far with writing and ended up with something much longer than my usual work oopp I really enjoyed working on it and I hope you enjoy reading it too :D

Warnings: kidnapping sort of, manipulation, unhealthy mindset, graphic murder, blood, stalkerish behaviour

Word count: 2614

A safe nest - Yandere!Dragon Trainer!Izuku Midoriya x fem!Dragon shifter!reader

It had been quite a while ever since they ran away from the village. After weeks of traveling on foot almost non-stop, Izuku had brought her to a special place. With a slight blush on his face he’d explained that he saw this place when they were out flying one day and just knew he had to show it to her one day.  

When (Y/N) first looked upon it, she almost wanted to laugh in Izuku’s face. They were standing in front of bare field, with harsh mountain peaks sticking out of the ground in front of them. It was cold, dry, and grey; she could hardly imagine that anything would be able to ever live here. Izuku looked at her expectantly with twinkling eyes, hoping that she’d love it as much as he did. To stay polite, (Y/N) simply gave Izuku a forced smile.

Izuku had grabbed her hand and dragged her along the rough path on the mountain, eventually leading her in a series of tunnels hidden inside the rock. It was so dark that (Y/N) could hardly see anything; she could barely keep herself from tripping over the stones in the cave. However, it was almost as if Izuku was raised here with how quickly he managed to maneuver himself in the twists and turns of the bowel of the mountain.

When they finally exited the tunnel again, (Y/N) could only gasp in shock and delight. The cave had led them to a peaceful meadow, filled with flowers and a small pond. A few trees littered the area, with wild flowers and tall grasses surrounding them. A small house was there too, made of wood and seemingly abandoned, but still in good condition. The tall mountain peaks surrounding the area almost seemed to touch the sun.

As (Y/N) was admiring the scenery, Izuku suddenly came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “This will be our sanctuary, our new home. Do you see how tall the mountains are? You can fly here without anyone seeing you!”

At the word ‘fly’, (Y/N) quickly turned to Izuku with an excited smile. She’d been wanting to spread her wings for so long, but Izuku had told her it was too dangerous to reveal her dragon shape when they were still on the road. Walking around so much was so tedious, so slow; she just wanted to fly.

All Izuku had to do was give her a small nod. At his signal, (Y/N) dropped any bags she was carrying and ran out into the meadow, quickly taking on her dragon form. With one strong movement of her wings, she was already soaring through the sky. As she felt the wind lift up her wings and the sun warming her scales, she felt her heart jump with excitement. The simplest things really do give the greatest joy.

Being here in this beautiful meadow with her trainer, being able to fly whenever she wanted again; it was almost like paradise on Earth for (Y/N).

But unfortunately, there’s a price to pay for all good things.

(Y/N) was never allowed to leave the sanctuary. Izuku said that people would recognize her and try to destroy the life they created together; they’d rip her away from him and turn her into a war machine again. When (Y/N) protested, saying that she’s more than capable of defending herself and Izuku, he would get sad and ask if she wasn’t happy with their home. He’d clutch her hands and ask in the most pitiful voice if she hated him so much that she wanted to live with those barbarians again. It broke her heart to see him like this, so she stopped protesting altogether.

Most of her days were spent in close company of Izuku or soaring through the sky. However, sometimes he needed to make a trip to the local town to get them some food. Or well, ‘local’ isn’t exactly the right word; it would always take Izuku at least 2 days to get there and come back, since he only had his feet to transport him.

When he was gone, (Y/N) felt so lonely. She had no one to talk to; it was just her and her thoughts the entire time. Without anyone with her, the days crawled by way too slow. To make it worse, whenever she was alone, she always found herself thinking of the day she eloped with Izuku. The day she burned down what used to be her home, destroying so many innocent lives. Even the mere thought of him leaving her alone with those memories gave her shivers.

However, food always ran out. Today as well, Izuku was preparing himself to leave her alone, again. He checked for the last time if he had everything and turned around to tell (Y/N) goodbye. His expression softened when he saw her standing there, clutching her chest with tearful eyes. Softly, she asked: “Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.”

Izuku simply ruffled her hair and told her: “It’s okay, I won’t be gone for long.” When he saw that that didn’t help at all, he quickly added: “Hey, see those flowers over there? How about you make the two of us some pretty flower crowns?”

(Y/N) glanced over to look at the flowers. They were pretty and she’d love to make flower crowns, but she just knew the moment Izuku was gone, she’d be reduced to a depressed puddle. Izuku gave her a tight hug, pressed a quick kiss on her cheek and backed away from her with a reassuring smile.

He waved at her as he increased the distance between them, and exclaimed: “I’ll be back as soon as possible, I promise!” To add power to his words, he lightly jogged his way into the caves, to the outside world.

(Y/N) stood there, watching his silhouette move away until it had disappeared completely. Her heart sunk in her shoes. She’s alone again. When she turned to look back at the flowers, she grimaced. She didn’t want a stupid flower crown.

She wanted Izuku.

A thought jumped in her head, one that she had very often lately. It was a foolish one, but (Y/N) was still intrigued by it; what if she decides to follow him into town? She’s pretty sneaky when she has to be, and when he’s on his way back home she could just turn into a dragon and fly back when he’s asleep. He wouldn’t even notice she left the sanctuary. Besides, it would do her good to take a stroll outside and see other people.

(Y/N) looked at the flowers again. Should she really disobey Izuku’s, no, her trainer’s orders? With a spiteful huff, she grabbed her cape and threw it over her shoulders. She’s been stuck here for long enough. Disobeying her trainer is exactly what’s she’s going to do.

---

Following him as he traveled through the forest wasn’t so difficult. There were many rocks and trees to hide behind, and she was still able to trace his tracks. Even though she couldn’t walk leisurely and had to keep an eye on Izuku at all times, she felt relaxed. The air was different here, the ground too. (Y/N) saw plants and flowers she almost had forgotten about. She even saw other people, who kindly nodded at her as they passed each other on the path. A smile made its way on her face. No one treated her like a monster, like the people from her village used to do. It was almost like she was normal, one of them.  

It was fun to see what Izuku is doing on his travels, too. (Y/N) saw him searching the forest floor often, collecting twigs which he’d stuff into one of his bags. He’s going to make a fire, (Y/N) thought, if he’d take me on his travels, I could light any piece of wood for him. (Y/N) made a silent mental note to help him out if he’s struggling with lighting his campfire at night.

It was almost dawn when (Y/N) looked at Izuku, who was inspecting the branches on the ground. She ducked away when she heard an unfamiliar voice calling out to him: “Stranger, it’s almost dark and you don’t have a fire yet. How about you join ours?”

Izuku was visibly startled, but walked in the direction of the voice nonetheless. (Y/N) sneakily crawled behind the trees and bushes, until she had a good view of what was going on. Two men were sitting around a campfire, while a woman with her young child were lying down, probably sleeping. The one that had called out to him, an older man with a grey beard, smiled kindly at Izuku and motioned him to sit with them.

The other man, who was a bit younger, said in a boisterous tone: “It’s dangerous to travel alone, kid. You don’t look like the type that can defend himself against robbers, or dragons.”

Both (Y/N) and Izuku jumped at the word ‘dragons’. Izuku asked him with wide eyes: “Dragons? They’re here?”

The older man spoke this time: “Haven’t you heard? Supposedly, some dragon started living on that mountain over there, and start burning down cities and forests. I heard entire villages turned into ashes because of that monster. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it, I thought tales of that beast spread like wildfire.”

“I heard the king even sent an army to kill it, but not a single soldier returned,” said the younger man. “It’s best if you stay the night with us, just to be safe. We’re not strange folk, just a family trying to look for a better home. Our home was burned down by that thing, too.”

Izuku smiled with relief. “Thank you, I’d love to spend the night in your company. I gathered some wood to burn. It’s all I have, but please take it.”

He immediately grabbed a few dry sticks and handed them to the older man, who gratefully accepted them. “Good, we were starting to run out!”

---

Izuku chatted the night away with the two men, seemingly relaxed. (Y/N) on the other hand couldn’t stop thinking about what the men had said. They knew a dragon was living on their mountain? How did they find out? But more importantly, (Y/N) hadn’t left the mountain in so long. What on Earth could’ve caused those severe fires? Moreover, what was that about an army? Are these all just tall tales?

When the noise of chitchat had died down, (Y/N) finally snapped out of her anxious thoughts. The men had lied down to go to sleep. They had even given Izuku one of their spare blankets so he’d be comfortable, too. They all looked so peaceful, huddled around the fire as they slept. It made (Y/N) feel drowsy too. She laid down on the forest floor. Slowly, she felt her eyelids grow heavier and heavier, until she couldn’t keep them open anymore.

---

(Y/N) had anticipated a quiet night, but she was rudely awakened by the sounds of screaming and crying. She immediately shot up from the ground and gasped at the spectacle in front of her.  The camp that was a peaceful site had turned into a chaos of blankets, household items, and blood. The two men had their throats slit open. Judging from the trail of blood, the old man had tried to crawl away, only to bleed to death a few meters away. The younger man was still alive, clutching his throat with one hand and powerlessly grabbing the ankle of his attacker with the other. The attacker had his back turned to (Y/N) so she couldn’t see him properly, but she was almost certain there would be a blood thirsty grin stuck on his face. The attacker had his blade lifted in the air, right above the woman’s body. The way her dress was soaked with red told (Y/N) that she’d been stabbed numerous times before she finally laid still. The child, completely confused and terrified, was crying loudly, pulling at its mother’s sleeve.

(Y/N) counted the bodies, but couldn’t find Izuku. Where was he? Was he killed, too, while she had just been sleeping here? How could she have been so lazy and cruel, to let him die right in front of her?

Inhaling deeply, (Y/N) tried to push away her guilt. It’s no use standing still now: if she couldn’t save Izuku, she should at least try to save the man and his child.

She jumped up from the bushes. Her claws and teeth were bared as she prepared herself to enter her dragon form and beat the crap out of whoever was in front of her, but she froze when she saw who the attacker was.

It was Izuku.

Izuku, unaware that (Y/N) stood there, had turned around and kicked at the man’s head to get him off of his ankle. It worked; the man fell to his side, let out one last gurgle, and never moved again. (Y/N) could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks when she saw Izuku being so heartless. She looked at the man, and then met eyes with Izuku. The blood drained from his face as he dropped the knife in his hands. He looked down at his clothes, which were covered in red.

(Y/N) backed away one step, confused and scared. How could he do something like this, her kind trainer? Was he really a coldhearted killer? Thinking back of the day they escaped their village, (Y/N) fell to her knees. He was always like this. That day, Izuku had pressured (Y/N) into burning everything down, to kill every last one of the villagers, because they hurt them and tried to rip them apart. As he spoke, his eyes showed no sadness, or reluctance; just excitement.

(Y/N) thought she was mistaken, that her dear trainer had a kind heart after all, but no. She wasn’t a monster; he was.

Izuku raised his arms to show he means no harm. With a soothing voice, he started: “(Y/N), this isn’t what it looks like. I had no choice but to do this, do you understand?”

As he spoke, he approached her shaking form. “I know I shouldn’t have kept this a secret, but I’m doing this for us! I’m the one lighting the fires, but it’s not bad. If I do this, then everyone will stay away from the mountain. We’ll be alone together! Just you and me. Isn’t that like paradise?”

(Y/N) looked at him in disgust. “Why kill people? Why destroy their homes? They would’ve stayed away from the mountain, anyway! You didn’t have to do this.”

Izuku suddenly dove on his knees in front of her and grabbed her shoulders, his fingers digging into her skin. His eyes were manic. “Otherwise it’s not believable! If an entire village burns down because of a dragon, there can be no survivors. You understand that, right? Right? I’m doing this to keep our home safe. Look, I’m going to burn this camp down, so people think the dragon is expanding its territory. That means even less people will be visiting us! Isn’t that nice? I’m doing a good thing.”

Looking at him in this state, (Y/N) was horrified. How could she have turned a blind eye to this side of him for so long?

Before she knew it, Izuku had wrapped his arms around her in a hug that more resembled the deathly grip of an anaconda than a loving embrace. With his face buried in her shoulder, he whispered: “A dragon should have a safe nest, after all.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere izuku #yandere izuku x reader #yandere midoriya #yandere midoriya x reader #yandere deku #yandere deku x reader #ask

[mrsalwayswrite]

More Than Today (Richard Winters x Reader)

So this has been in my wips for MONTHS. But here we are! I know its also been a hot minute since I’ve written any BOB fics. Sorry, friends. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: a couple swear words (thanks Nixon)

Words: 2750

Tag List: @happyveday @evelynshelby @sydney-m @saritanotserena

Paris. 

City of Light.

City of Love. 

 Dick Winters just wished the soldier behind him would stop bumping his chair as he laughed at another dirty joke. 

 It had not been his idea to be here. Apparently Sink thought he needed a break. Nixon and Welsh ganged up on him, practically forcing him to pack his bag and get on the train. 

 Now that he was here though….it was nice. 

 He would never admit how many steaming, hot baths he had taken since finding his hotel room. Plus, sleeping in a real, soft bed- his bones sang with joy at the reprieve from the hard, army cot it had been subjected to for years now. 

 Tomorrow morning he was supposed to be leaving. His last 24 hours in Paris. Truthfully, he had done nothing, just rest. Both physically and mentally. He knew if he returned without having visited some kind of touristy place, both Nixon and Welsh would be furious. Though, he would have to have a conversation with Nix. It was not until Dick started unpacking that he found the box of condoms Nix must have slipped into his bag when he was not looking. 

 Sometimes he wondered why he put up with the man. Even that thought made him smile. Somehow him and Nix, they just clicked. Completely polar opposites but maybe that was what allowed their friendship to take root and grow. 

 The soldier behind Dick laughed loudly, rocking his chair back with the movement and knocking into Dick once again. He grimaced, just saving himself from spilling coffee onto his Class A uniform. He knew he outrank the man behind him and all his friends, he could easily say something…. but that seemed like a battle not worth fighting. 

 He quickly finished his small cup of coffee, relishing the actual bitter taste of the drink verse the watery stuff the army supplied. Standing up, he pulled out the change from his pocket, ready to leave a tip for the nice waitress. 

 "There you are!" A feminine voice called out with a distinctly British accent. 

 Dick lifted his head, knowing she was not talking to him but still curious. But then the strangest thing happened. He looked up and met her eyes as she walked past the few other tables. A blinding smile lit up her face and he felt his heartbeat stutter at how beautiful it was. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others sitting around watching her with interest but her eyes remained solely focused on him. 

 When she came to his side, she gently placed a hand on his forearm and lifted up slightly on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I'm so sorry I am late, love. I lost track of time. Do we still have time for a cup or shall we go?" She easily asked, as she slid down into the extra chair at the table. 

 He stood frozen for a moment, his mind questioning everything that just happened. Thankfully, his body went on autopilot and he sat back down in his chair. "Uh…. it’s fine."

 "Lovely!" She beamed, waving a hand to get the attention of the waitress. 

 As he stared at her, his mind finally seemed to feel the tension hidden just below the surface of her overly-sunny disposition. Her hands laid in her lap, a white-knuckle grip on her small purse though. A friendly smile remained on her face but her eyes kept shifting warily over to the other side of the street, like prey keeping a predator in its peripheral. 

 Confused and now concerned, he peered over to where her eyes kept shooting. Two men stood across the street watching her with sullen expressions. Their uniforms informed him they were US army, the chevrons on their sleeves stated they were both sergeants. 

 Dick turned back to her and lowered his voice, even though he guessed over the noise of those around him, the men would not hear. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

 "Wait." She said sharply, even though her smile never faltered. Then the waitress approached and the woman ordered a cup of tea with enthusiasm. Dick found himself ordering another cup of coffee per her insistence. 

 Finally, the waitress walked away, having had a brief conversation about the lovely color of lipstick she wore with the woman across from him after taking their orders. 

 It was then the woman peeked across the street once more. Whatever she saw, Dick watched the tension ease out of her. He glanced over to see the two men making their way back down the street. 

 "Bloody hell." She muttered, dropping her face in her hands. 

 "Are you alright? Were those men bothering you?"

 "Mmm? Oh, no, well yes. They kept following me even after I told them I was meeting my fiancé. I am so terribly sorry I dragged you into this, it was either find someone to pretend to be my fiancé or find an alley nearby and stab them. I quite like this dress and would prefer not to get blood on it today."

 He just stared at her, unsure how to take her answer. He would have thought it was a joke but with the way she casually answered, as if stating the sky was blue, he assumed she was serious. "Um, right." He coughed, not quite sure where to take the conversation from there. Luckily, she seemed to notice. 

 "Is there somewhere you need to go? I truly am sorry for holding you up. I'll pay for your coffee when the waitress returns, it's the least I can do. Don't feel like you have to stay here just for me."

 "No, no. It's alright, ma'am. I was just…." His voice trailed off. 

 She smiled softly at him, folding her hands in her lap. "Are you stationed here in Paris?"

 At that moment, the waitress returned with their ordered drinks. 

 "No." He answered her prior question, watching her take a sip from her cup. His own cup sat between his hands but he felt no need to drink it yet. "My CO demanded I take a 72-hour pass."

 "Mmm….so you are one of those?" She laughed lightly at the look of confusion on his expressive face. "A CO who actually cares about his men, focuses on making sure they are taken care of, instead of spending time with the other officers wasting all his money on booze and women."

 "Um…." He could feel a warmth spreading over his face. Hoping to hide it, he brought his cup to his lips and took a sip. 

 "It's alright, sir. We need more officers like you in this damn war. What's your name?"

 That he could easily answer. "Lieutenant Dick Winters, Easy Company, 506th, Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airbourne."

 "Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Winters. I'm y/n y/l/n. So Airbourne, hmmm? I've heard about you. Tell me about your training."

 And somehow Dick found himself telling her about Currahee, about the jumps at Mackall, the field drills in Upottery, even laughing about Sobel's antics with her. 

 Eventually, their cups ran dry. 

 "Where are you off to now?" She asked pleasantly.

 Dick answered honestly, feeling relaxed in her presence. "I'm not sure."

 "Well, it so happens I was on my way to visit the Notre-Dame Cathedral. Would you like to join me?"

 "Sure."

 Dick insisted on paying for both of their drinks, claiming his mother would read him the riot act if he allowed a woman to pay for her own. As they walked away from the cafe, she slipped her arm through his like they had done it a million times. Instead of feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable at the unexpected physical touch, he found himself smiling down at her. 

 What started off as a day without any intended plan, just enjoying not being on the front line or behind a desk writing reports, became one of the most enjoyable days of his life. After the Cathedral, they wandered along the Seine, stopping at any shop or attraction that caught their eye. She regaled him with different facts or histories of places they saw and other locations in Paris. Before the war, she had spent some time in Paris and now, having returned as a translator, she felt it was even more important to remember those things that the Nazis tried so hard to destroy. 

 Soon conversations turned to their own experiences at home, his in Pennsylvania and hers in London. The more they talked, the more he found himself attracted to her beyond the physical. She was a breath of fresh air amongst the smog of war. A ray of sunshine to remind him that above the dark clouds of War, the sun still resided. But even if the day was spent in laughter and companionship, a war still brewed outside. A painful reminder to what Dick's priorities should be. So, he promised himself that he would enjoy her company now, but once he left Paris, he would put her out of his mind. His men and the war came first. 

 As night settled over the city, they walked side by side back to her hotel. It was not too far from his own, thus he refused to listen to her protests and told her he would escort her back for her own safety. 

 "Well, this is me." She stopped in front of the lovely hotel. "Thank you for escorting me."

 "It's the least I can do. You spent the whole day being my tour guide."

 "That sounds dreadfully boring. But you'll have stories to share with that Nixon friend of yours. Though he may be more impressed if you bring him back a vintage bottle of wine."

 "No, he only drinks Vat 69. Lord knows where the man keeps finding the stuff."

 "Besides your footlocker?"

 "Yeah, besides that." He chuckled at her jest and the mischievous smile on her face. As they stood there, smiling at one another, he found himself wishing they had more time. That perhaps he had met her before or after the war and had been able to court her properly. For now though, he would cherish their time together. "Thank you for today."

 Her smile held a hint of sadness in it, as if she lamented their separation just as much as he did. "I pray our paths will cross again." 

 "Goodnight, y/n."

 "Goodnight, Dick."

 He stepped back, lingering a moment longer to gaze at her. After, he turned and started to walk away. The hour was late and they both needed to sleep. It was less than 8 hours until his train was to depart in the morning and he knew it would be wise to enjoy his soft bed one more time before returning to a hard, army cot. 

 "Dick!" 

 He spun around, surprised to see her walking towards him, her heels clicking loudly on the sidewalk. 

 "Is everything alright?"

 Without acknowledging his question, she pressed her lips to his in an eager kiss. Dick liked to consider himself a gentleman, never to take advantage of anyone, especially a woman. In this moment though, as all thoughts fled under her touch, his body reacted on instinct. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him while their lips parted, deepening the kiss. She moaned into his mouth, tasting like the wine she sipped on at dinner, her hands tightly gripping the lapels of his uniform. Heat coursed through his body as their tongues tangled together. He felt hypnotized, unable to pull away, to maintain propriety. Nor did he want too. She nipped at his bottom lip and his knees almost buckled underneath him. This moment was pleasure and fire, something he never experienced before….and something he wanted to revisit over and over with her. 

 After only a second and eternity combined, they both pulled back with swollen lips and breathless. Rising on her toes, she gave him a quick peck on the lips, a single flame compared to the bonfire they just lavished themselves in. Swiftly, she stepped back, running her hands over her dress. 

 "Goodnight…. don’t tell Nixon about this."

 He nodded, almost shyly, mind still reeling from their shared passion. "Yes, ma'am."

 With a playful, flirty wink, she twirled around and headed back towards her hotel, her heels clicking loudly on the ground. 

 Dick watched her walk away, lips still tingling and residual flames teasing his nerves. His eyes traced over her form, hoping to memorize it, to be able to always savor this moment. Looking up to the heavens, he silently prayed that one day, their paths would cross, one day he could perhaps pursue her, one day he could feel her lips against his again. 

 *****

 "So, you still haven't said much about your time in Paris." Nixon prodded, sipping from his canteen that certainly was not water. The intelligence officer had been relentlessly interrogating his friend about his pass for the past week. 

 Dick rolled his eyes, not even glancing over. "Not much to say, Nix."

 "You had to have done something! Come on! It's Paris!"

 "I saw the Notre-Dame."

 "Hey, that's something. Stop pressing him, Nix." Welsh butted in with his typical lazy grin. He reclined in the extra chair next to Nixon. "He did return the condoms."

 "For Pete's sake." Dick muttered as he listened to the two men laugh. He stood looking out the window of his office, overlooking Easy Company below being drilled by Lieutenant Dike. Again. There was something to be said about being prepared but this went beyond that. 

 "Harry, how long have they been out there now?" He asked, not removing his gaze from his men. 

 Welsh sighed, glancing at the clock. "About two hours now."

 "Right, come on. Let's go relieve them."

 The other two scrambled to their feet, following Dick out of his office and down through the labyrinth of the HQ building. Lieutenant Dike had come with high expectations but the more Dick watched the man, the more worried he became. 

 "You're too soft on them." Nixon teased, trailing behind him.  

 Dick gave a quick salute to some officers they passed, never missing a step as he responded. "They aren't learning anything by marching back and forth out there besides ways to murder their CO."

 "Was that a joke? Holy fuck. Did you hear that, Harry? Dick made a joke! Paris changed you."

 "I heard. Still in shock." Welsh deadpanned. 

 Dick sighed good-naturedly as they stepped outside the building. Slipping his cap on, he started in the direction of his newest Lieutenant. The footsteps of his companions falling in step behind him. 

 "Dick!" 

 His feet screeched to a halt. He knew that voice. Whipping around, he was greeted by the sight of her. Someone he thought he would never truly see again. A beautiful, blinding smile on her face as she hurried towards him. His heart rapidly pounded within his chest, giving away his shock and joy at seeing her. 

 "Y/n? What are you doing here?" He could not help sweeping his eyes over her, surprised to see her in a WAC uniform. Though it did nothing to diminish her beauty. 

 "I was asked to be a translator and help with deciphering coded messages." She answered casually as if she had not just revolutionized his world. Standing in front of him, she motioned to the army camp around them. "Is this where you are stationed?"

 "Yeah, yeah, it is."

 "Oh, that's lovely. We'll be able to see each other again. I am late for a meeting otherwise I'd love to chat. Could I see you tomorrow for a cuppa?"

 "Um, sure. Yes."

 "Perfect. I'll find you in the afternoon." She raised up on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the lips, causing his mind to short-circuit. "It's good seeing you, Dick."

 With that she spun on her heel and sashayed away, leaving all three men standing there shocked. 

 "Who was that?" Nixon demanded, gaze never leaving her retreating form. 

 "Y/n…. I met her in Paris."

 Nixon smacked him on the arm. "You bastard, you said nothing happened there."

 "Nothing happened." Dick tried to defend, even if the excuse sounded weak in his own ears. Besides, for him, something certainly did happen. 

 "Probably should have kept those condoms, Dick." Welsh said, clapping him on the shoulder with a chuckle. 

 And for a brief moment, Dick wondered if he was right. 

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagines #richard winters #dick winters #richard winters x reader #dick winters x reader #lewis nixon #harry welsh #mzwrites

[b0rista]

— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

WARNINGS: light angst & swearing.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: he's one of my ultimate favorite snk characters, and i needed to cleanse my page of the heavy ass warrior content djjfjf.

"you're either a blessing, or you're a lesson. either or, you and i met for a reason."

with all of the gore and the misfortune that comes with your livelihood, it's connie that gets you through it.

as expected, you first fell in love with him for his humor. not for the humor itself, but for how it shed the smallest flicker of joy upon a heaping tower of despair— as soldiers, you needed that. fortunately, he was the one that brought it to the table. even during your days as cadets, connie lived to make you laugh. hearing a chuckle flutter from your core served as a form of therapy for him, and with time, he grew addicted.

with that being said, he does the stupidest shit in order to get your attention. even when you're together, he'll do what needs to be done. for example, one time, he tried to impress you by doing a trick while saddled up on his horse. in an attempt to twirl like a jackass ballerina, the horse decided that it deserved better, and kicked him clean off its back. at the sight of his 5'2 ass being hoisted eight feet into the air, you nearly choked.

prepare yourself, he's a cuddler. after a particularly hard day's worth of work, connie finds solace in bedding up with you, knowing that you're safe, and with him. he asks that you don't tell anybody, but he actually really enjoys cuddling as the little spoon. to have his head pressed against your chest, his ear to your heartbeat, brings him comfort. of course, he'll never detest to being your big spoon, either. he absolutely loves the feeling of you buried within his touch.

^ if you ever want to go an evening without cuddling, he'll be immediately offended. never, ever, ever will the two of you fall asleep back to back. he simply won't have it, it makes him feel as if something's wrong. and if that is the case, nobody's falling asleep until you've talked about it and successfully sorted it out.

at the beginning of your guys' relationship, everyone worried for you. did he coerce you, y/n? are you being forced? has he threatened you, has he threatened your family? nobody could grasp the fact that connie motherfuckin' springer had managed to pull you.

if there's any sort of sour talk regarding you, no matter how little it is, this man will leap to your defense. one time, jean called your bedhead ugly, and connie propelled a moldy roll of bread into his forehead. in the end, a massive food fight erupted, and you were just standing there with your bedhead like 🧍‍♀️

HOWEVER, there was an instance that actually led to a genuine, real fight between you two as a couple. you'd managed to scuff up your leg during the battle with kenny the ripper and his associates, and when it came down to who was and who wasn't going to tag along for the eren & historia rescue mission, connie belittled you to the team behind your back. not because he actually felt that way, but because he'd do anything to maintain your safety— even if it meant hurting your feelings. telling captain levi that your abilities were inadequate for that particular mission hurt him, but he did what he felt was necessary.

in the end, though, levi saw through the charade. to connie's dismay, you came with to save eren and historia. and during the entire journey, you didn't even utter a word to him. of course, though, during the battle, you put your frustrations aside. once you saw your lover's head nearly get kicked in during combat, you understood his intentions, and you forgave him. as expected, he replied to your forgiveness with humor,, his go-to coping mechanism.

"considering how sexy i looked on the battlefield, i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

whenever his hair starts to grow out, you're the one that gets to cut it back down! he's able to do it himself, but he really likes it when you do it. you're typically propped up in his lap, sitting face to face as you file down his edges. he always loops his arms around your waist, intently staring you in the face— seeing you so concentrated on his hair, he can't help it.

you wouldn't expect this from connie whatsoever, but he likes it when you read to him. pick a literature of your choice and let him kick back and rest his head onto your lap, pleasE. he'll close his eyes, and for the first time in forever, stay still. the only time he and books ever coexist is when you're reading one to him. he'll also make fun of you whenever you stumble over a sentence,, so get ready.

the day you realize that this motherfucker is nearing six feet tall, you're ready for the holy spirit to whisk you away. literally, you measure his height on the weekly once you realize he just keeps gaining inches. that, and when he starts growing more into his face? lawd, take you now.

"connie, you're getting seXY-"

"what the hell does thaT mE A N-"

many, many proposals. none are meant to be taken seriously, which the both of you know. still, there are far too many proposals between the two of you. one time, you killed a fly midair, and he thought you were the baddest bitch on the block.

"marry me."

another time, he swooped you into the air with his maneuvering gear, and as you held onto him for dear life, you looked him dead in the face: "marry me, you baldheaded bastard."

it can be a reel, how many times the two of you say that bullshit. somehow, it's cute.

he doesn't really take basic boundaries into consideration. like, one time, you caught him using your toothbrush because he couldn't find his. it wasn't fun, you had to give him a serious talking to.

he is, without a doubt, constantly prepared to lay down his life for you on the battlefield. during his time as a soldier, he's grown significantly strong— and once he fell in love with you, he's felt even stronger. not only do you give him drive, but you lend him strength. with that being said, you're somebody he'd die for without even an ounce of hesitation. and knowing him, he's probably made that more than obvious.

when connie's village was destroyed and it was discovered that his entire family was turned into titans, you were one of the only ones to actually comfort him. you were absolutely enraged at how nonchalantly your lover's loss was set aside, and although he'd tried his hardest to conquer the grief alone, it was you who sat at his bedside at night, cradling him in your arms as he wept. never in your life had you seen him so distraught. after that period of time, your relationship with him only deepened in its seriousness. 

as expected, you and sasha spend quite a bit of time together! after all, that's your boyfriend's best friend. given her easygoing nature, it didn't take long for sasha to absolutely adore you. naturally, she wonders how the hell you manage to operate with a boyfriend like that, but she tries not to ask questions.

speaking of the wonder twins, they love getting you in trouble. whenever the two of them think up an astonishingly moronic shenanigan, there's a solid 50/50 chance that you'll be looped into it, too. one time, they purposefully dulled jean's razor, and when he went to shave, it only ended in him splitting his face open due to placing too much pressure. as a joke, those two jackasses carved your initials into the handle. when jean decided that he'd murder you, connie tried playing the hero, lEapiNg to your defense. it was stupid, and it didn't work. you still laugh about it, though.

there have been several jokes regarding starting a family and growing old together— secretly, though, connie doesn't want them to just be jokes.

he stole a stray cat for you. yup, yes he did. the two of you were walking about the city, and you saw a gray-haired sleeping beside a trash bin behind a local vendor. you compared its fur to the color of his hair, calling it cute. out of impulse, connie went back to that exact same vendor later on that day, trapped the cat in a box, and brought it to your doorstep.

his forearms and fingertips were covered in claw marks, but to see your face light up the way that it did, any amount of pain was immediately worth it.

after the nickname that shadis had given connie on the first day of cadet training, you named the kitty q-ball. 🥺

during the season four era, the two of you share a house. at first, captain levi argued against it— "put a pair of horny teenagers in a home together, what do you think is gonna happen?"

y'all said fuck it, and lived together anyways. it's you, him, and your lovely child, q-ball. occasionally jean, too. some nights, he doesn't want to be alone.

eskimo kisses. during the prepping of every single mission, you'll get eskimo kisses. it's a small, loving gesture the two of you do before heading into the battlefield. as a sign of your love, you'll press your foreheads together and rub noses, weapons holstered and ready for combat. it's a serious tradition, and it'll never be ignored.

and after a mission, connie has this habit of pinching your cheeks immediately after rushing towards you. it isn't to be cute, either. it's so that he can scan you, and check you for any harm. basically, it's him squeezing the life out of your face while bombarding you with questions.

expect supremely cheesy pet names! bae, biscuit, buttercup, baby thing, sexy bitch, and so on. if it were anyone else, he would 100% make fun of them. but it's him, therefore adorable.

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot scenarios #aot headcanons #connie springer #connie springer x reader #aot x reader #connie springer headcanons