#can people just leave amber alone like the fact this is news says so much

[killyourlocalmisogynist]

oh no a woman turned down a man how dare she what a bitch this is proof she is the true abuser of johnny depp 😡

#💭 #can people just leave amber alone like the fact this is news says so much #all the comments are saying brody dodged a bullet and that she is a gold digger 😐

[talkingharrystyles]

“Your thoughts on the „clubbing“?! Please share I‘m so curious!!!”

🌌Looks like damage control, on steroids, that is driven by fear, and fueled by desperation, to reinforce the idea of being youthful, and exact vengeance, depending on the source, that one of Harry’s flings have been exposed.

Don’t know why she’s upset. He did say that he only considered her as his director. Everybody knows that Harry is having flings to temper the sting of loneliness… oopsies, did I just confirm the rumors?

It’s not like it’s a dozen of bodies. That would be way too much work for him to fit into his schedule, as of late.

It is naive to believe that Harry has adapted celibacy into his life. He IS a man after all. HE DOES struggle with expressing his emotions and resolving issues. He retreats into familiar outlets to handle stress.

As always, OW overplayed her hand.

It’s a bit odd timing that there’s content of them “clubbing” after that specific theme was the hot topic of recently and publicly aired out conversation.

I might be stretching, but also it’s coming on the heels of Harry, being reported, accepting a fan’s prom proposal.

Undoubtedly, this fan will enjoy the freedom that his “girlfriend” is vehemently denied which is posting of him and her enjoying themselves at a dance.

Really there is nothing more to say. I’ve only seen a recirculated video and an unreliable, conflicting detailing of it.

Who knows. If OW is smart, (we know you’re lurking here for tips), then she can break the wheels here, and use this excursion to her benefit.

She can claim that she did “try to keep up with Harry’s riotous living” (visible proof of this now exists), but she “could not espace the constant mommy guilt of abandoning her children”.

For real, OW. Get out, with what shred of dignity you might still have, while you still can.

It is kind of perplexing, as to why OW felt like a “huge f&$!@“? failure as a parent”, though.

She’s earned mother of the year with her constant need to be present around Harry to supervise him.

She’s stalks protects him to make sure that the big bad boogeyman and candyman leaves him alone. She neglects sacrifices her time and responsibilities to have time to chaperone him to places.

She has, now, taken on the role of his designated bodyguard to a night club.

How sweet that she forsakes precious sleep, as she’s one who “goes to bed earlier”, to make sure that no mean person could take advantage Harry him in a vulnerable state.

We can assume that she drove him home, bathed him, changed him into warm pajamas, warmed his tea, and read Love is A Speical Way of Feeling to him, until she was sure that he was sound asleep.

Enjoying special dreams where he can be who he wants to be. And be with whom he truly wants to be with.

I mean, yall, she did go to great lengths to purchase him a new elephant head just to settle his temper tantrums.

She IS taking this unofficial guardianship very SERIOUSLY.

If that’s not a mothers love, I don’t what is.

By all standard, I’d say OW has not only earned the title of mom of the year, she’s earned the satchel. The scepter. The throne, AND the crown.

Oh wait- she’s suppose to be the gf, right? Yeah, then, this isn’t passing the sniff test.

In fact, it smells worse than her overly greased hair and foul intellect.

This is why I have an issue with individuals who are obsessed with linking their identities to political movements, but fail to actually participate in those movements.

I’ve said it before. Olivia’s titles are nothing more than armor against criticism that is disguised as false virtue.

I mean, she is one of the few whom Amber Heard has followed on SM. You are the company you keep.

If the sexes were reversed, people wouldn’t be romanticizing this unusual behavior and would, I hope, call it for what it is: possessive, toxic, psychotic, controlling, and, borderline, abusive.

Just because it’s fake, it still is disturbing that Harry, one who claims to be against toxic relationships, is promoting a relationship to the naive that has the hallmarks of toxicity.

Not all fans are smart, and can distinguish reality from fantasy. Which is why the charade was agreed to, and still is gaining traction.

They know that impressionable minds will consume this.

People will romanticize it because, rather than showing them a HEALTHY relationship, they (Harry Co. Olivia Insane. and Jason and the gang) prey upon and weaponize onlookers insecurities and desires to garner attention.

Holivia validates psychotic fan girls, as Olivia is the very embodiment of WHO THEY ARE. Mentally unhinged, obsessive, compulsive, addictive to fame, and will suffocate a man, until he’s not breathing anymore (interpret that as you will).

This is why shippers cling to Holivia.

They see themselves in Olivia’s insanity, and are thrilled that their behavior is being rewarded with the very person whom they have formed their lives around.

Harry’s not responsible for peoples own free choices. He is, however, accountable for influencing naive minds by engaging in behavior, with the knowledge that there are gullible onlookers of his who are watching and believing everything he does is TPWK.

Putting aside the reality and mockery; exactly how drunk was Harry? I know people like to laugh at his affectionate, cuddly behavior, but they do need to remember that this is someone whom uses alcohol as a depressant. Alcohol IS his veil lifter.

While he typically becomes affectionate, when consumed in excessive, and depending on the stress he is dealing with, HE IS A CRIER. A blubbering one at that.

He does suffer with CONTROL ISSUES.

He does implode when the pressure is insurmountable.

He tries to medicate it, though, by using work, exercise, and alcohol. Drugs, eh. He’s not this pothead people keep thinking that he is.

But people has witnessed him, under the influence of alcohol, crash severely.

He has admitted his consumption of alcohol tethering the line between recreational drinking and acting as a coping mechanism.

If you reflect on old pics, you’d see that him drinking is a common activity in Holivia content.

I keep finding it unsettling that, realistically, a person is increasing needing to be constantly inebriated to withstand being in the presence of a specific person.

🌌

#🌌

[nikoldragonne12]

Despicable Minions (DM AU) - New facts

1) Evelyn Wilde (née Sebastian) died of postpartum complications (i'm not a doctor, so I won't specify which complication it was). She underestimated the symptoms and when she collapsed and finally got to doctors' care, it was too late…

2) Damien Fournier (b. 25th October 1970), Tom's current husband and a founder of "Wilde-Fournier's family bakery" (formerly just "Fournier's bakery"), is half-French and half-Greek (his father is French and his mother is Greek). 

'Fournier' isn't his birth surname - he was "Damien Auclair" but he changed it some months after moving to Canada.

His family was very rich and controlled his life - they forced him to study law, despite him liking different topics, and they even arranged for him to have an engagement with a wealthy young woman. Damien stood against his parents and after a long argument, instead of stopping their dirty behavior, his parents kicked him from home. 

This bad experience affected his personality deeply - he became more reserved, careful and distrustful yet extremely stubborn and persevered, which eventually helped him win Tom's heart.

Important:  Damien's parents and former fiancée are still alive in France. His parents always say "We've never had any children" (in French, of course) and the former fiancée is married to somebody else and has her own life (and children). Damien avoids situations when he'd be forced to talk about them. If somebody keeps asking him, he'll leave the room while mumbling curses angrily - when he’s finally alone, he breaks into tears. The only person who knows exactly about his backstory is Tom. Ruby, Amber and the minion girls know Dami's life wasn't easy but they don't know the exact story.

3) Damien's French accent is almost unnoticeable but you can hear it when you focus - Dami falls back to his accent when he’s tense… and when he’s pissed off (which isn't often), he completely falls into French language.

Fact: Tom also confirmed that when Damien swears, it's always in the French language (obviously).

4) Dove, a librarian female minion with heterochromia, has a lot of ancient documents in her library under Wilde-Fournier's house - some minion girls even believe there might be some lost documents, even from Socrates. But nobody really knows… except for Dove.

5) Colette Moreau, Bratt's daughter, and Amber are neighbors and good friends - most of her outfits were designed by Amber or one of the female minions. 

6) Susie, an IT expert of the female minions tribe, is addicted to caffeine (much to the chagrin of her wife Vivian - despite being a very laid-back minion most of the time, Vivi can quickly become angry when seeing her beloved partner with a tenth cup of coffee in her hands).

7) Amber has never met either her maternal and paternal grandparents, or Damien's parents - Evelyn's family cut contact with Tom after their daughter's funeral, Tom's parents died before Amber was born and about Dami's family, I've already said how sensitive he is about this topic.

8) Despite Ruby, Tom & Lucy's aunt, has stayed single all her life, she usually spends a lot of time with a group of elders (when she's not at home) outside - they even often go hiking, biking, etc.

It's also known she has a very close relationship to one elderly lady from the group - I won't give you any specific information whether it's just a friendly relationship or love and I myself won't think about it. Some topics are better to be kept solely on the viewer's interpretation.

9) People constantly think Damien is a heterosexual man (he isn't), which he usually uses to prank women with, much to the chagrin of his husband Tom.

10) After I'll update Amber's design, she will have both real and fake ear piercings - real ones in upper earlobes and those on her cartilages will be fake. 

She got her real piercings after she started attending university and her fake ones a year after. 

Bonus facts:

11) Kenny the minion has admitted recently that his wife Carrie is really pregnant. 

Carrie's sisters (Dove, Meli and Rita) are all excited that they'll be aunties, as well as the other minions.

12) Mike, the second male minion who was attacked by mutated kittens, is limping on one of his legs - it was damaged too much, so it has never completely healed.

Coco, his wife, loves him even with his injured leg.

13) Lydia is the tallest of all minions - in my AU, tall minions are about 125 cm tall but Lydi is incredibly 145 cm tall.

14) Dove often steals chocolate from the kitchen (she loves chocolate), much to the chagrin of Wendy who's allergic to cocoa.

15) Amber still enjoys cuddling with her family and doesn't complain, even if she's an adult.

#dm #dm au #minions #the minions #minions the rise of gru #amber wilde-fournier #design #alternative universe #damien fournier #tom wilde #female minions #facts #ruby wilde #despicable minions #despicable me oc #despicableme #despicable me #new #au update

[glasseelie]

Ancient God - Reincarnated as a Kid in Teyvat

Characters: Zhong Li; Childe; Diluc; Cyno; Kazuha.

Summary: You don't know why you, an ancient God that has lived tens of thousands of years and even slept for more thousands of years - suddenly died and got reincarnated as a regular child. Seriously, what is up with that? Now, all you can do is roam whichever nation you got dropped in and observe the changed world from another point of view.

Category: Platonic Reader Gender: Neutral

Notice: Everything in this post is 100% platonic - reader is in a kid form, so any insinuation of romance between them and characters is not acceptable.

Zhong Li ; sharing tea and memories

Even though nothing changed the fact that the leaves from your home brewed for much better tea, Liyue was a sure enough good competitor - specifically the Yanshang Teahouse.

The rich aroma of fine quality tea quickly enticed you to start working in here; that's how things were run in the current world - you must work at any case and that people have long since made up "currency" (you still struggle with this concept sometimes).

With you new and squishy little body, you couldn't do much else then bring cups to and from the tables, but it gave you an excuse to smell the tea some more and the Teahouse owners seemed a sweet couple, so it was acceptable.

But...

"Oh? Who's this adorable bunny?"

"Careful not to trip! Such small feet you have!"

"Aiya! So cute! Thank you little one! Jie-jie promises to bring you some delicious candy next time!"

Everyone was treating you like a child.

To be fair, you did look like one. With short limbs and squishy cheeks, slightly red with youthful eagerness. Physical activities seemed 10x hard too; all in all, you did not miss being this small - last time you were like this was when you were born tens of thousands of years ago.

The worst thing about it was that no one took your requests seriously.

You wanted to learn about Liyue's history - you've been sleeping practically the whole time it was created, so you were clueless about everything. But everyone you asked either told you folklore stories for kids or gave you a picture book that explained nothing (though Liyuen style of art was quite beautiful).

One day, on a busy evening, your eyes caught something different - an adeptus. Sure, you saw some adepti come down for a drink or two from time to time, but this one was extraordinary.

This adeptus had an aura of divinity achieved by experiences of thousands of years - a retired god perhaps? - your mind supplied. Calm, knowing amber eyes and neat, mature attire.

That was your ticket to knowledge.

So you swiped the order from another waiter and went to deliver the Misty Garden tea - strong aroma with caramel, certainly someone with a good tea taste.

You tried not to look funny with your tiny steps as you approached the table on the west ting overlooking almost all of Liyue. The magnificent vermillion color of the local styled ting and all the pavilion construction was beautiful against the golden layers of the nation.

The adeptus looked down at your much smaller human form and smiled politely "Hello, thank you for bringing me my tea" he says and takes the porcelain teapot and cup set off the tray.

You watch him for a little, observing for any signs of him wanting to be alone; he busies himself with inhaling the sweet aroma instead. Finally, you ask "Can I sit with you for a bit?"

The adeptus is surprised, but doesn't seem perplexed about the idea. "I don't see why not" he answers after a bit, he motions at the other seat across from him and encourages you to join him.

Both of you seem to be in a comfortable silence as he seems to be patiently waiting for you to break it. Though you're content in just listening to the bustle of the city, after so many years of silence, you can't let this opportunity slip between your fingertips.

"May I know your name?"

"Of course. I go by Zhong Li"

"I see, Zhong Li, I have a small request."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"Since you are an adeptus, I was wondering if you were knowledgeable in Liyue's history."

If you knew about anything, it's that adepti appreciated straightforwardness - not having any time for meaningless pleasantries that humans deemed necessary for everyday life.

The said adeptus quickly analyzed what was going on, put his teacup back down and nodded with a pleased smile "I would say I'm quite proficient."

"I have just come to Liyue a little ago, I know not of its history and everyone treats me like someone who can only understand simple pictures." you said, somehow keeping your calm, despite being frustrated to no end "So I ask of you to please, share your memories"

And that is how an alliance started between two retired gods. One brought expensive tea to the funeral parlor down the street, the other talked about his vast memories of the very nation they drank their aromatic delicacy.

Gaining a person that can share the memory.

Childe ; giving advice from ancient times

As a god, before achieving glory, you had survived in most horrid conditions. Danger looming over you at any corner, withstanding the harshest of winds and the darkest of nights. You had gone numb to many uncomfortable factors like the cold and the dark long, long ago.

And yet, this small human body was not getting the hint.

You woke up from your eternal slumber couple of days ago, shaking uncontrollably in a collapsed hut, not being able to keep your teeth from chattering. Interestingly, humans bodies turn bluish when cold enough, but you couldn't bring yourself to be fascinated by the revelation as you were hours away from death.

Thankfully, after dragging your feet around the vast forest (not even trying to hunt in this condition), someone found you. This person turned out to be a young man, he looked like a fledgling barely out of the nest, yet he seemed to be commanding people all around and giving them orders.

He immediately picked you up from the cold ground, your numb feet finally off the snowy terrain. The young man wrapped you up in some kind of warm fur and assured you that everything would now be okay - it was admirable, how a person, who you considered a kid, logically, had so much protectiveness over a stranger child. Was this how all humans behaved?

"Don't worry okay? I'll get you warm and snug in no time!" he tried to rub your cold hands to warm them up as he rode his horse towards somewhere.

The clicking of the saddle additions and the hooves on the stony ground, where snow did not manage to cover enough to muffle the iron.

Your voice was hoarse and your throat felt painful when you spoke, but you were glad to find your voice again (though, this small and squeaky thing could never be your true voice); you needed to assure this kid that you knew you were somewhat safe now - being in a child form really has the benefits of people being kinder, you knew that way before all this.

"It's okay, I will be fine" your confidence seemed to have a positive effect as the young man calmed down a bit and continued to ride at a high speed while holding you securely in the thick makeshift blanket.

Wherever it was that he took you, it was echo-y. It reminded tiny bit of your own chambers that existed eons ago, sophisticated details and shiny gems littered all around - was this a young lord? Or a diplomat perhaps?

You found thinking hard as unconsciousness slowly took hold of your weak body. But, you jolted into full awareness when your legs were submerged in a tub of warm water - oh, that felt nice. So that was what humans did to aid frostbite... or was that something else?

"I know, I know! You hate this, but otherwise your legs will fall off!" the young man was trying to shush a child that has not even protested - you'd be a fool to not to take a helping hand.

You try to keep awake as you watch him towel your feet dry and tuck you into a bed with a thick blanket. You felt incredibly small in this form, not only physically. The fireplace at the corner casted a bright orange glow alongside some lamp crystals.

"What's your name?" you asked, barely contain yourself from adding 'kid' at the end (that probably wouldn't fit in with this situation).

The young man smiles broadly at you and sits on a small velvet chair beside the bed. "How about you call me Ajax?" he encourages and suddenly ruffles your hair.

You're caught off guard, this kind of gesture... you remember it distantly. What a warm feeling... was this what it felt like at first? Back when you lived in your mother nest with your older siblings? Before you all achieved glory and divinity?

"And what's your name?"

"'I... don't remember" lying was necessary not for any fear of this human boy, or of distrust - but to make Ajax's life a bit easier by just being a kid he saved, not a reincarnated deity.

Ajax doesn't let his expression dim as he nods in understanding "That's fine, solnyshko. Just stick with brother Ajax and I'll get you settled in Snezhnaya, okay?"

Snezhnaya... is that the nation you were in?

Either way, you appreciated the sincerity of Ajax, a kindhearted soul truly - at least to what he thinks of is an innocent child. Though you can't help but notice the different kind of look in his eyes - like darkness that lurks just beneath the surface.

"You are tired."

"Quite interesting you say that, zaichik, since you're the one who should be going to sleep right now" he jokes, squishing your doughy cheek, but you insist.

"To rest is to respect the boundaries of your nature. Nature will reward you when you listen to it." you say quietly, trying to finish before sleep finally pulls you under "Someone... told me that... long... ago..."

You don't know if your words were what made the difference between you being put in the care of a woman serving under the palace Ajax presided in; and instead being welcomed into this young man's family in the far away village, but it was a wonder how warm family feels, after all this time.

Now, Ajax will come to rest at his home frequently and you will repay this unspoken one-sided debt by silently watching over his little siblings grow.

Such true is an advice that stands through time.

Diluc ; to heal a tired heart

Mondstadt was quite the nation. A beautiful landscape, culture that would enchant anyone from anywhere. Mondstadt was largely known for brewing the finest quality wine - Dandelion wine.

Or so you've heard.

Too bad you weren't allowed to get a drop of it form the nation's best winery. The owner seemed to not even entertain the thought of giving alcohol to a 'child that seemed barely of age to walk around alone' - he said, word for word.

You weren't about to drop off all your dignity and beg a stranger for wine when you fully knew you were now inhabiting a small human's body, who was not meant to be drinking.

But something still stayed on your mind.

As you walk around the outskirt streets of the square, you catch the warm light that was coming from the Dawn Winery. The yellow of it spilling down the cobblestone ground like honey and stretching onto now empty streets.

The tavern is now empty. Lonley figure remains inside.

You step inside, making no effort to be quiet; your small, stubby legs don't make it any easier. The owner, who's hair and eyes endearingly match, looks up to see who came in; you almost laugh at how his expression drops into disappointment and amusing blankness.

You hold up your hand "Not here for a glass"

Though still looking at you with a skeptical eye, he resumes drying the wine glasses; he neatly places them all in a row on the shelf, just as he does every night before blowing out the center chandelier altogether.

"Children shouldn't be out at all at this hour. Where are your parents anyway?" technically, your parents have been turned into concepts of chaos and peace, but speaking about such mediums to a human may put this mortal being at unease; that's not what you want.

"Can I stay here for a bit? It's windy outside."

Maybe it was the nature of a soft human heart, or just unique kindheartedness to this human; either way, he allowed a stranger child - you - to stay while he wiped down the bar.

"What's your name?" you ask, taking embarrassingly long to climb a stool at the said bar.

"You come into a bar so frequently, pester me to give you alcohol and only now you ask of my name?" he says, annoyed and clearly irritated, but he relents "I'm Diluc."

"Your heart is tired, Diluc."

You were far too old to say that you couldn't stop the words tumbling out of your mouth, no, after eons of being alive, you mean every word you say.

So you didn't slap a hand over your mouth at overstepping privacy with Diluc, or pretend to be at shock at your own words. It must be quite a shock already, such words coming out of a child's mouth, gods, sometimes you wished for your godhood to be back so badly.

After looking at you with a puzzled face, Diluc raises an eyebrow "Look at you now, which grown up book did you read that phrase from?"

You knew deep down, he knew the truth of it too. His heart is tired and it's lonely; no matter how much humans try, they are still creatures of habit. Habit of enjoying company and warmth, which Diluc must have had at some point.

Always so tense, a permanent furrow in his brow.

"Don't brush my words off so easily-"

"Okay, I'll think about doing that after 10 years, after you will be a big and serious adult, how about that? Will you quiet down now?" he says as he pushed a cup of something in your direction and turns away to continue his business.

Your eyes sparkled at being able to drink wine again - until you took a swing and realized it was grape juice. Though it irked you that Diluc delighted in your surprise, it was quite a delicious bevarage.

After that, every evening, after working hours, you'd sit at the bar with a glass of grape juice; help clean up around the winery and sometimes even let your little self fall asleep at the spare sofa.

Diluc never asked about your parents again, instead offering for you to stay at the Ragvindr household. Well, mortal human life isn't as bad when you have someone who can listen to a child wax poetic with a glass of grape juice.

Even though you won't dig up any of the wounds open about his past, you want to make this human smile again. If your happiness makes him happy too, then it's good enough for you.

Time helps heal tired hearts.

Cyno ; depth of understanding

Deserts never change, you decided.

They have always been unbearably hot and full of the sands that sting your bare feet. Not to mention how delicate your skin turned out to be - not the worker kind. Thankfully, you found some abandoned camps that had a dried fruit or two still good, so you weren't starving, but you were very close to passing out from the heat.

It was frustrating. You - an eons old god that had endured all types of warfare - were now struggling to drag your feet across the scorching desert that seemed to have no end.

Silence, heat, it was sickening at a point.

After couple of days like this, you suddenly hear a noise out of the blue. Before you can even register the sound, you are faced with someone who's holding a polearm towards you threateningly.

With sun-kissed skin and clothing resembling of the roaming guards of the divine back at your time, you guess this person could be a watch-guard stationed at the desert.

You can only see one magnificently reddish eye, like the blazing sand that scorched your feet. Out of a delicately crafted amethyst headpiece, locks of long, white hair fall. A truly interesting looking individual.

"What are you here for?" he asks, curt.

"I don't know" you answer truthfully "I woke up here couple of days ago..."

He looks at you with suspicion, never once faltering his gaze down at you "Why is a child with no supervision left at the desert?" knowing that neither of them would have an answer for it, most likely, he followed up with "Where do your guardians live?"

Your guardians? you suppress a melancholic smile. You greatly miss your guardians, but in this new life, you're not sure if you have any - or if you need them.

Your stomach growls.

Scratch that, you definitely need a guardian in this new era.

"I don't know..." it was again, the truth. The stranger seemed to sense that you were being honest, since he lowered his weapon; he sighed with exhaustion.

"I will take you back to the Aaru village, but it's a long way back." he warned, as if you had a choice - or maybe it was a statement; either way, you weren't about to ignore this miracle.

You took a step closer, should you bow in greeting? Is that what people still did in this era? Should you just ask?

"What's your name?"

"My name is Cyno. How about you?" he answered and asked swiftly, seemingly also quite curious.

"I don't have one."

After pointedly looking at your feet, Cyno had no problem picking you up with his free arm to give your body some relief; it was a bit of a surprise, but you're sure you'd do the same with a small child in his place.

"That's fine, well, what do you call a child lost in the sand? Sandy, I guess."

The sudden joke caused moments of silence as you looked at his blank face in surprise, before you burst into laughter from the sheer absurdity of the joke; now that seemed to really excite the stranger as he started to make his way towards the promised civilization.

"it was funny, right?"

A child's piercing laugh was an enough answer.

Sure, your new body was a bit annoying to get used to - weak and uncoordinated. But it was worth it, living amongst these people, sharing their joys and their grieves. It's fascinating to see humans grow and to be aware of eons worth of knowledge and grow up with it, but such trials and tribulations could be mended.

As long as this kindhearted person comes by to tell you jokes that pain the rest of the village, you could deal with the rest.

The depth of mutual understandings about simple matters between the two of you. That's apparently what it means to be human.

Kazuha ; whispering of the universe

Inazuma as a nation was a bit of a mystery to you. When you woke up, you were surrounded by a sweet scent (that you later discovered were Inazuman cherry blossom trees). That, and it rained.

A lot.

The air of strange mystic aura and alluring spirits; it left you with confusion, left to wander around the beautiful flora with just the clothes on your back. Your feet hurt from worn out sandals and the weak body you were granted with had problems moving for even a day.

It frustrated you to no end, but if you have learned anything during the many thousands of years of your life, is that complaining about things you can not change is truly a waste of breath.

So, you walked on.

From time to time, you came across some lavender melons, but it wasn't enough to nourish the body of a growing child; so you knew if you didn't settle down somewhere, you were in for trouble. You were no longer a god with no binds to your strength, but a tired human child.

So, you set up a small camp, still having crystal clear memory of how to survive in wildlife - sure, Inazuma had its own quirks, but the base of it was still the same. Shelter, water, fire, food. in that order.

Your plans came crashing down when you got stuck in a small crack between two hills. You were holding onto the edge, yet you didn't have enough legroom to fling yourself up - curses! Had it been your old form, you'd been able to pull yourself up with just one hand.

Gods, were you about to die as soon as you woke up in your second life?

Suddenly, a gush of wind leaps you into the air; not having the time to even yelp, you land into stranger's waiting arms. "Hello little one, you look like you've been full of mischief" a calm voice said with no real retribution.

You looked up to see a young man with unique hair and delicate features; his gentle smile set you at ease. A vermillion streak in his light hair was an eye-catching feature, distantly reminding you of an autumn spent painting the fallen leaves with your peers.

"Where did you come from, little wanderer?" he asked, safely setting you down on the ground; he crouched down in front of you to eye level.

Finally, someone that could guide you to a nearby civilized settlement "I don't know" you decided to be truthful "I woke up nearby here..."

"My name is Kazuha, do you know where your parents might be?"

Oh boy did you want to answer with the truth, but in reality, this child's parents were probably nowhere near "I don't know that either..." gods, your whole life you hated that sentence and even subjected your diplomats to a day of lecturing whenever they used the phrase 'I don't know'.

"Alright, how about your name?"

"Don't think I have one" right now.

Kazuha nods with an unfazed smile, stands up and holds out his hand "Would you trust me to lead you back to somewhere safe? this isn't the best place for you to be" he had kind eyes that had wisdom of life embedded into its marble surface between sadness.

You guessed as such, if cracked ground and unstable weather was anything to go by; you took his hand and you two begin to make your way back to wherever Kazuha came from.

"If you don't mind me asking" you finally spoke after being silent for days, so you had to ignore the scratching of your throat "How did you end up here?"

"The wind told me."

"Oh, I see."

"You don't find it weird?"

You shook your head "Wind tells many stories."

So does the earth and the vast seas. Every leaf and every pebble tells a different, priceless story. To be in tune with one's self is to be listening to the universe around you - it rewards when one lends its stories an ear.

Kazuha found your answer pleasant, his smile stretching just a bit "It sure does."

Soon, you found yourself at a beach, or a makeshift dock of some sort - in front of a giant ship. Awed at how much bigger everything seemed from a child's eyes, you couldn't help yourself but quicken your step towards it.

As you stared at the ship, you noticed a tall lady approach you with a smile. "Hey there kiddo! Ya like the ship?" she asks with a booming voice you'd expect from a motivated general. She had an eyepatch and wore bright maroon clothing.

Was this the captain?

"It's magnificent" you answered truthfully.

"Oho! Such big words there! Smart kid! Where'd you come from?" she was standing in front of you now. She was pretty tall; in your previous form, you'd be twice as taller, but in this life, you had to painfully bend your neck.

"The small one is with me, captain Beidou" Kazuha caught up with you to stand behind. The easy smile on his face suggested the woman in front of you was an ally.

Captain Beidou seems to glow with excitement "So, coming aboard then?!" she seems ecstatic to have you on the ship. Maybe she's the type who's good with children? In that case, you're not sure if she'd like a child who has a soul of an ancient god.

Kazuha rested a hand on top of your head "I guess so, can't remember the parents or even a name. It's better if we keep this one a bit of company for now."

That's how you ended up on the Alcor, amongst the fleet that called itself 'The Crux'. Soon enough, you fell into a routine of helping around; sure, you were small and got tired easily, but you still remembered all about ships and navy - after all, you'd led soldiers across many seas before.

Looked like Beidou appreciated your helpful nature as well, looking over you with an approving expression from time to time.

Still, despite proving that you were more than capable of handling the routine aboard, Kazuha insisted on accompanying you most of the time.

Maybe because he was the one who found you, a small child, tired and bruised from horrible living conditions.

Maybe because you still tripped on your little feet from time to time, eliciting a playful laugh from everyone, including Kazuha himself, before he swiftly pulled you up back on your feet.

Maybe because Kazuha enjoyed being in company of someone who could understand his wax poetic - as you two sat at the very end of the Alcor and looked at the boundless waters of Teyvat.

He teaches you of the modern ways people try to listen to the world around them, and of haikus he loves to drop on you suddenly - maybe he thinks of you as his successor; it's a little funny, how in reality, you're the one supposed to be teaching this young soul.

But you're content to just sit beside him and listen to the whispers of the universe.

[end of part one.] [i will write one character a nation per part, any suggestions?] [thank you for reading.]

©glasselie. 01/12/2022.

#🖋️pong letters #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin headcannons #genshin zhongli #genshin childe #genshin diluc #genshin cyno #genshin kazuha #zhongli #childe #tartaglia #ajax #cyno #kazuha #diluc

[truckreincarnation]

di(vee)de and conquer | Vee | Trial 3.1 | Re: Esmée, Theophania, Harriet, Yuliya, Bian

It’s two trials in a row now that Vee has showed up looking distinctly paler than they did hours ago, but this time their attempt at a Dark Revival had succeeded in keeping someone alive, as everyone had likely seen when they, Theophania, and Bian reacted to the news that Frank was only mostly dead. The same could not unfortunately be said for Meili, and while he’d already gotten through the worst of his grief with Perry the week before, that empty clawing feeling in the back of their throat has reappeared. Thrice in a row now had the victim of the week only been dead for so fleetingly short a time period that Vee was sure something could have, and should have, been done.

They can’t claim to be anything but agonised about any of this, especially not when Meili’s demise was irreversible, brutal, and quite frankly a little uncalled for, but there is at least a simple relief that they managed to save Frank from the same fate.

“Shroud also confirmed the s-same thing as Amber did about the simultaneous discovery rules, addin’ that h-his phrasin’ in the report is what it is because he could n-not ascertain who the third party was at the s-scene.” A case of the coroner having as much information as the rest of them were working with, essentially. “Shinjuku also confirmed his bondmate s-status with Frank to me and Harriet durin’ our investigation… I think he’s m-mentioned it to others before today, but he can better d-describe what he felt when Frank was a-attacked.” Didn’t seem right for Vee to parrot what Shin would say eventually, so she’ll leave the man to it. There were other things she could share right now, anyways.

“I h-have Hide in Plain Sight too, includin’ a few upgrades… I think s-several of you have seen me usin’ them to h-hide other people in plain sight durin’ a s-spar or out in the field. I can keep it c-consistently active with my Domain, as well.” Was it a risk to be this upfront about their abilities? Maybe, but they’re clearly worried about something that they’re going to lead into. “I was takin’ a nap e-earlier in the evenin’, and woke up shortly after F-Frank’s vision because it got beamed directly into my dreams. Harriet was there in our room, a-and I washed up before leavin’ at 8.30 to walk around and c-clear my mind. I was with Bian in the Smithy f-from 8.40 to 9.20 as she’s mentioned, and then l-left for the post office, where I ran into Yuliya. She left a-around 9.45, and I was alone in the office writin’ a l-letter to Manami that I have in my hoodie pocket… when Meili w-walked in at 10.10.”

The more they’re listening to everyone else share their alibis, the more they believe in the now very real likelihood that they were the last non-involved party to see him alive. “To answer Bian… I’m fairly certain the c-culprit attacked Frank in the five minutes that Meili was s-separated from him in the post office. This also c-corroborates what Shin felt with regards to his bondmate alarm, which, a-again he can better describe, but there was absolutely a w-window of opportunity for them to have wailed on F-Frank as he was alone. Also, while Meili was in the p-post office, she already h-had a letter in hand, and sent it off with a p-paper budgie. I believe they used perfume and a y-yellow ribbon to seal it, and kissed it too… I haven’t f-found the letter in question though, but at least two of the p-paper budgies are missing, so I imagine they’re out d-deliverin’ their letters.”

Vee pinches the bridge of their nose tiredly. “In hindsight, I should’ve sensed somethin’ was off, b-because they checked the time, gasped, then h-hurriedly left the room at 10.15 before I could ask w-what was wrong… Honestly, I just thought they h-had somewhere to be urgently... She was still c-carrying her guitar with her at the post office, though. I guess Meili w-was on her way to meet Frank?" They look a little distraught over the fact, regardless.

“In any case, I s'pose I d-don’t have anyone to vouch for where I w-was either at the time of the murder, unfortunately, but I d-do hope you’ll consider how much I’ve s-shared and not jump to any rash conclusions. I s-swear that I wouldn’t have killed either of them, especially without m-motive to either now that you know my deal.” He remarks softly, ending things off.

#Vee #ch3 #trial3 #submission

[favoniuscodex]

you get kidnapped by the fatui headcanons (diluc & kaeya)

prompt: Diluc and Kaeya headcanons for reader getting kidnapped by the Fatui before they have a chance to confess that they’re in love with her, as requested by @lohai-of-favonius​ word count: 2.1k (lol “headcanons”) characters featured: diluc, kaeya reader: gender-neutral/female/male (can be read any way, it’s in second-person pov) style: headcanons w/ angst then fluff warnings: possible spoilers for diluc & kaeya related info, light descriptions of injuries, kidnapping, light descriptions of violence

a/n: i made these into headcanons, i hope that’s okay! i was getting a little longwinded on the both of them and i feel like the scenarios would’ve turned into full length fics otherwise haha. i definitely need to learn to write less. i hope i interpreted the prompt well! 

“I have a commission awaiting me,” You stated, refusing to make eye contact with the man in front of you as you absentmindedly fiddled with the sleeves of your shirt. “In Liyue. Looking for a missing person. Should be routine stuff, I’ll be back in a week, max.”

You glanced at the man in front of you. If you could notice the concern he wore on his expression, you failed to verbally acknowledge it and instead took one of their hands in yours, squeezing it lightly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. You don’t have to ring the alarm bells just yet!” You joked, plastering a small smile. As the man in front of you realized his expression was morphing into one of worry, he smoothed over his expression and composed himself.

He knew he couldn’t control your actions, nor had any room in stating which course of action you should take when it came to accepting your commissions. Missing person cases, while a valiant cause, often led to bad news. But, you were a hero at heart and here he stood, merely a friend of yours. Now wasn’t the time for a heartfelt confession of love that he desired to send your way. Doing so would only unfairly manipulate you into staying and he knew you were strong enough to make it back on your own.

But, a week later, as he awaited your arrival at the gates of Mondstadt, worry plagued the man who had fallen in love with your heroic, dutiful spirit over the last few months. As the hours ticked by, he realized he needed to have a new course of action...

KAEYA

Upon you going missing with little to no information, Kaeya would notify the Knights of Favonius, first and foremost. In fact, he speaks to Amber first, as he believes her to be trustworthy and her status as an Outrider makes her most likely to encounter you first.

However, despite his growing concern, he remains optimistic. You’re a strong fighter who has helped him clear countless hilichurl camps. He knows you can handle yourself well. You’re likely just taking longer than expected or picked up extra work in Liyue before returning.

A few days later, Fischl, one of the Adventurer’s Guild’s investigators, approaches him with information on your whereabouts. However, after lots of back and forth between the two, he finally understands (with the help of Oz’s translations) that you’ve been kidnapped by the Fatui.

Kaeya immediately panics, but manages to keep his cool, charming facade up until Fischl leaves his presence. Now left alone in his office in the Knights of Favonius headquarters, Kaeya paces around, trying to think of a plan.

Kaeya wants nothing more than to ride a horse straight into Liyue and search for you, taking down anyone that gets in his way. However, there’s one thing that limits him: Diplomacy.

Kaeya’s a part of the Mondstadtian government, meaning that any action he takes in Liyue directly reflects on the nation of Mondstadt as a whole. It wouldn’t look good to dirty his hands with Fatui blood in a land that isn’t his own. Not only would it be detrimental to his well-being, it would also put the freedom of Mondstadt at risk, which goes directly against the promise he made when being sworn in as a Knight.

Therefore, he has to use the next best thing: Connections. The Adventurer’s Guild has been extremely helpful on intel, he has friends in the Liyue Millileth, and he’s even willing to swallow his pride and reach out to Diluc if it means your safe return.

Diluc, despite his tense relationship with his brother, has always had a soft spot for your presence, so he’s more than willing to help by spreading word around the tavern.

As days go by, Kaeya gets antsy and right when he’s about to say fuck it and mess up the entirety of Sneznhayan-Liyuean-Mondstadtian geopolitical relations by murdering some Fatui to get you back, Amber bursts into his office and doubles over, trying to catch her breath after sprinting to the Knights of Favonius headquarters.

“We found her. With Barbara,” She manages to wheeze out. Without caring for the state of the Outrider’s lungs, Kaeya shoves past her and immediately sprints to the cathedral.

He rushes to the back where he’s met with your figure lying in a hospital bed. As he enters your room, your eyes flutter open to give him a bleary-eyed smile, despite all of your injuries.

He opts for sitting next to you and taking your uninjured hand in his, hesitant to move you a lot in fear that it would only hurt you. However, he wants nothing more than to wrap you in his embrace and never let you go. But instead, he simply brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles lightly, whispering a thank you to Barbatos for your safe return as his lips ghost along your skin.

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes as Kaeya plays with your fingers, trying to think of the words to say. You, on the other hand, are content with sitting in silence, far too tired to explain everything that had happened to you over the course of your adventure.

“Who rescued you?” The first words out of Kaeya’s mouth are not a love confession, but rather embittered words, laced with jealousy. He wants nothing more than have to been the knight to bust down the door of wherever you were held captive and whisk you away to safety, solidifying the image of him in your eyes as a protector.

“I rescued myself,” You speak softly, a smirk spreading across your lips. “I beat up those Fatui jerks and escaped myself.”

Kaeya looks up from gazing absentmindedly at your hand and makes eye contact with you. Before he can stop it, a proud laugh escapes from his lips and you begin to laugh with him too. Despite all his worries, you had come back alive and in one piece, just scraped up. You didn’t need him to play protector -- you had yourself. He was just designed to be your cheerleader. As this thought settled into his head, his laughter subsided and a content smile graced his lips.

“I’m in love with you,” He confesses in the comfortable silence between the two of you. Kaeya was normally the type for bald-faced lies, but tonight, he felt as if he wanted nothing more than to peel back his layers of mystery and be honest with you.

You beam at him, rotating your hand in his grip and squeezing back. “I know. Aren’t you lucky that I feel the same way?”

DILUC

When you go missing, Diluc immediately expects foul play. He’s definitely more worrisome than Kaeya, but Diluc is more fearful of losing the one he loves. He’s experienced loss before and has built up walls around himself to avoid losing that again and, while Kaeya does the same, Diluc is far less charming and suave with his words.

Diluc has let you in as both a friend and has fallen in love with you. He doesn’t want to lose you before he can tell you how you’ve broken down his walls.

He trusts you to be able to take care of yourself, but even the mightiest of warriors can be kept off guard. Therefore, Diluc begins using his wealth to find information out about your location and what happened to you. While it might not result in the most reliable information, Diluc knows money can get people to talk more than anything.

Diluc quickly learns that the Fatui are holding you hostage and finds out where. The location is in Liyue, so Diluc does what Diluc does best: He sets out to rescue you himself.

He doesn’t take much with him besides a horse, his claymore, some food and medical supplies, and your weapon of choice. He doesn’t know what shape you’ll be in, but he knows that if you’re even remotely conscious, you’ll want to help him fight.

When he infiltrates where the Fatui are holding you, he’s filled with rage upon seeing your bruised and beaten form in the corner, chained to the wall, as if the Fatui had tried to get information out of you but failed.

Determined to rescue you safely, Diluc realizes that he’d have to fight the multiple Fatui that were now alert to his presence as well. The four Fatui members in the vicinity look like they had already had a rough time capturing you and are less than thrilled at the prospect of fighting Mondstadt’s Darknight Hero.

However, Diluc will be damned if he lets them run. He makes quick work of the Fatui members, thanks to your assistance in fighting as hard as you could before being captured.

Once the Fatui are defeated, Diluc immediately crouches by your figure, breaking the shackles holding you with his claymore.

“My hero,” You sigh in a dreamy voice as a mischievous grin forms on your face, causing Diluc to both sigh in exasperation and flush red at the same time. However, your voice becomes sincere as you utter your next words. “Thank you.”

“You would do the same for me,” Diluc responds, his words filled with truth. Diluc trusts you more than anyone else in Teyvat. He scoops you up bridal-style and carries you over to his horse. The two of you ride back to Dawn Winery in silence, with you sitting in front of him as he holds the reins. His arms around your waist prevent you from falling and the rhythmic motions of the horse lull you into sleep.

You awake in one of Dawn Winery’s beds with fresh bandages. At your bedside, fresh water and fruit had been placed for your consumption upon waking, but you’re not too concerned with either at the moment. You decide to eat some before going to find Diluc, realizing that he’d probably chew you out for not taking care of yourself if he found out.

As soon as you’re finished, you hobble out of bed, determined to find Diluc. You spot him on the balcony and as you creak open the door, Diluc whips his head around and frowns at you.

“You should be in bed,” He chastises, immediately rushing over to you. He notices the fact that you have to lean against the doorframe for support and sighs. “Why would you ever get out of bed with your injuries?”

You let out a small giggle. “I wanted to see my charming hero, who is just as excited to see me too,” You croon, enjoying the way the tips of his ears flush red at your teasing. You reach out your arms to him. “Carry me back?”

Diluc sighs and picks you up once again. “You have me wrapped around your finger,” He murmurs into your hair as he carries you back. You’ve latched onto him like a koala, with his hands supporting your thighs and your arms around his shoulders. You bury your face into his neck and sigh with content, causing him to flush an even deeper shade of red.

Despite his embarrassment about the current situation coloring his face, Diluc realizes that he doesn’t mind if everyone else in the winery sees him carrying you like this. It would showcase that you were clearly his.

As the two of you return to your room, Diluc gently lays you down on the bed and turns to leave, but you grab his wrist before he can make his escape. His face is still flushed a deep scarlet when he turns around to face you, causing you to let out another laugh.

As the morning sun filters in through the window, your eyes twinkle with delight as you stare up at Diluc, happy to be in his presence. Diluc looks down at you, entranced by how carefree you look, despite the hell of what you had just gone through. Despite all the bandages that cover your face, arms, legs, and torso, Diluc views you as a sculpture crafted with the finest materials by the gods themselves.

As he brushes the hair out of your face, Diluc realizes that he would rescue you a thousand times over if he could relive this moment of you being happy, without any of life’s typical worries etched into your face. That’s when he fully realizes how he feels about you, embracing the feelings he had long sought to push away.

“I’m in love with you,” He states, gently cupping your face in his hand. You reach up and cover his hand with yours, smiling softly at him.

“I’m in love with you too, Diluc,” You murmur as he closes the distance between the two of you and presses a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc headcanons #kaeya headcanons #diluc #kaeya #genshin impact #*headcanons #*writing #*diluc #*kaeya

[watevermelon]

Same Old Love | Kaeya (Genshin) x Traveler!Reader

✧ Summary: Kaeya was mysterious in every way that made you wary. From the gleam in his eye to how easy it was for him to flirt, it made you wonder how much he was presenting was truly real. Not wanting to get sucked in, you swore not to fall for the Cavalry Captain. At least, that was the plan, right? ➳ Notes: Angst with a happy ending ➳ A/N: Thank you so much for the ask!! This was fun to write ((I feel like I write so much angsty/jealousy fics haha)) I’m just getting into genshin and so please feel free to send in requests for these cuties <3 @breathings-of-the-heart​

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You had some worries about Kaeya, dubbed “The Handsome Mr. Kaeya” by Paimon.

There was no doubt that he was attractive, his ever present smirk and exposed chest was enough to signify to anyone that even Kaeya was well aware of his looks. But he tended to wield his words like a double edged sword - using his words for an express purpose.

It was admirable, in a way. He was the loyal Cavalry Captain who looked out for Mondstadt’s best interest. And while he had misled you on this pirate treasure adventure, there was no harm really done. In fact, from the way he prattled about haircuts and eyepatches inherited from his parents, you were already sure that it was simply a tale being spun for Paimon to latch onto.

At the end of the day, Kaeya still compensated you for your time and provided you with a higher-level weapon. The criminals were caught and the Knights were credited for another arrest of an infamous Treasure Hunter. It was a win-win situation that you very quickly put behind you as another job done.

The entire quest had not really bothered you - it was not like you had not withheld anything either. You ran from clue to clue without updating Kaeya on your progress, with the express intent of snagging some of this treasure yourself.

It was a really smart move on his part and, for whatever reason, it had the inverse effect on you - it made you want to get closer to Kaeya.

Paimon grumbled for all of a day before she prattled onto something new, complaining about the returning ruin guard by the temple or the way Venti sassed her. But you often found yourself hanging around Good Hunter or  Angel’s Share, wondering if you would be able to run into him again.

It was no surprise that Kaeya was always busy, Jean had mentioned before that Kaeya was the one who often wrapped up every physical incident that occurred in both the city and outer plains of Mondstadt.

And so it was easy to lose track of him, the image of Kaeya still present in your mind, just pushed back in the further recess as you continued in your struggle to find clues about your brother. When whispers on the street spoke of a Dark Knight hero, you were pleasantly surprised to see Diluc patrolling the streets from the shadows.

The last thing you had expected was to team-up with the very man who ran opposite to the Knights, but you learned how oddly sweet Diluc was in that short amount of time. His double life of fighting off the abyss army single-handedly to running the largest Winery on the continent - Diluc’s workload was no easy feat.

You were just out of the clear, Huffman gone to deal with the slimes when a resounding clap started from the dining area of the bar. Kaeya stood and approached you both, you turned to Diluc and he had the flattest, most unimpressed expression on.

You stood mostly silent in that conversation, Diluc with his arms and chin held high. Kaeya had reassured him that the secret was best kept that way, eyes glinting mischievously as they went from the winery owner to you.

You only stared right back, as if Kaeya’s face would give off exactly what he was looking for. Instead, he simply smiled at the both of you and left when Diluc said he was closing the bar. Diluc thanked you for your assistance, reassuring you that in case you need help, he was a willing hand.

When you walked out the bar then, Kaeya was still right outside, chatting casually with some of the late bar-goers that sat at the picnic table. Just as he made eye-contact with you, he bid himself goodbye from the group and fell into step with you.

“Paimon doesn’t trust blue-haired, eye-patched men anymore.” She started next to you.

“That’s good I’m a blue-haired, eye-patched handsome young man.” Kaeya shot back, to which she rolled her eyes. He then turned to you with the same open smirk as usual, “And here I was thinking I could make you my assistant.”

Was he flirting with you?

It took you a second to question this internally before Paimon scoffed, “Ugh, I’m going ahead to the inn. I don’t think I can stand watching you make kissy-faces at each other after the day we had.”

You waved a hand in her direction to smack her, but she was already flying away up and out of reach.

Turning back to the Captain, you were surprised to see that Kaeya was still looking at you, not even toward Paimon as she fled into the night.

Remembering his last statement, you shot back, “Think you could handle me?”

“Confidence, it looks very good on you.” Kaeya replied as his smile widened. He took a single step closer, lowering his voice next to your ear and continuing. “But the real question is if you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

You stood your ground, ignoring the shiver that ran up your spine, “I always like to try new things.”

“I look forward to it.” Kaeya straightened, lightly grabbing your hand in one of his own and raising it to his lips. “Until then, traveler.”

To think that such a simple action, hardly anything scandalous, had lingered on your skin the entire night. You remembered the way his lips felt against your hand, how striking his blue eyes bore into your own. Kaeya was extremely dangerous, able to catch your attention and keep it for hours on end.

The next day you had a commission about dismantling a rising Hilichurl camp, a perfect distraction away from the eye-patched hunk that kept plaguing your thoughts. The last thing you expected was for Kaeya to see you.

“Looks like our honorary knight continues their do-good streak.”

“It’s the least I can do.” You replied back, a sassy hand on your waist.

“Why don’t I accompany you?”

You wanted to scream.

Paimon actually did groan before stating she was going to stay in the city.

And suddenly, your distraction was running exactly opposite to your intention. With Kaeya joining your party, the Cavalry Captain was making himself decidedly known you.

He led you around a cliff, showing you a higher area where you could survey the camp before bursting in guns blazing. There were six Hilichurls, some slimes scattered about and two towers already set-up in this enemy campsite.

You decided to stick together, coming in from the high ground and slamming your weapon into the ground at unsuspecting enemies. It felt nice to fight alongside someone again, oftentimes you were alone in your adventures. Paimon would yell words of encouragement, but never would she actually lift a finger to fight. But Kaeya was reliable, freezing enemies into place and shattering them where they stood.

Taking down some of the outer-rim electro Hilichurls equipped with bows, you were nearly finished with clearing the entire camp. You grabbed the pyro slimes and exploded them near the towers, taking down the camp with them. With the camp almost completely disassembled, you heard the tell-tale electronic power-up that only signified one enemy.

A ruin guard.

Hunched over, you watched as multiple missiles took aim on the nearby unsuspecting Cavalry Captain. Running the best you could, you threw decorum out the window as you all but tackled the poor man out of harm's way.

Rolling a few times, there was no surprised yelp from the man beneath you. He simply allowed you to take the wheel until you came to a stop, hovering over his body. Kaeya was undoubtedly taller than you, but you were face-to-face as he smirked beneath you.

“Wow, not that I’m against this.” Kaeya started, a quip ready. “But ask me out to dinner first.”

You flushed and stood up immediately, “I was saving you!”

“I’ll let you save me any day of the week.” Kaeya replied, earning a half-assed scowl on your behalf. He only laughed at you, calling your attempted look of intimidation only served to make a cute pout instead.

You huffed and considered leaving him with the ruin guard.

From then on there was no doubt about it - Kaeya was flirting with you.

And you were openly flirting back, if of course he decided a less obnoxious moment. In between commissions and nights at Angel’s Share, Kaeya flirtations were growing more and more brazen. It was one thing to kiss the top of your hand in greeting and another entirely for Kaeya to throw his hand across your hair, leaning in to openly bury his nose in your hair.

Diluc called you both disgusting.

Tonight, you entered Cat Tail’s semi-inconspicuously to get a drink. Paimon had long caught onto your game, saying that she surprisingly approved of Kaeya, since after all he was still a good guy in some ways.

But, she still was not exactly a fan of you too making “kissy-faces” at each other, her words. And so tonight you were flying solo, Paimon opting to annoy Amber instead tonight as they tracked down some abyss mage or other.

You tried your best to hang around the bar, looking around the tavern to see if the object of your desire was anywhere around. You meandered for a few minutes, saying greetings to other bargoers that had recognized you, before approaching the bartender if Kaeya has been around

The bartender recognized you immediately. It was hard not to place one of the few new people in Mondstadt, especially one that was crushing much of the country's enemies. Diona had mentioned before that you were a friend of Diluc’s, often more than just a customer at the rival tavern. No, you were seen running around the city with the red-head at random times.

She said the worst thing you could have ever suspected.

“I think Kaeya has a hot date tonight.”

You felt a lump in your throat form, but tried to keep your response guarded. “Oh?”

The bartender continued, “Yeah, I’m not sure if it was Paula? Or Maggie tonight? But you know the captain - always changing up his escapades.”

“Right, of course.” You replied back, words coming out before you could even register it. Instead, you kept on nursing your drink, spiteful words from the bartender marinating in your mind.

Kaeya was mysterious, yes. But was he leading you on?

… Was it right of you to trust him?

The first red flag should have been the fact that you knew nearly nothing about him personally. To think that you had spent all this time together talking and fighting alongside one another, but you could not even recall basic facts about him, let alone anything deep. You were unaware of his family history - Diluc was his brother, but it was the red-head who ended up confiding that fact to you.

Kaeya was so charming that you hadn’t even noticed he shut you out of his world.

And so there was no point in actively keeping a one-sided friendship like that. From then forth, you resolved to avoid the Cavalry Captain for the time being. You knew you had to free Dvalin together, but that did not mean you had to swoon for him in your free time.

It was almost expected of you to join him on Friday nights at Angel’s Share, but tonight you were missing. Neither Charles nor Diluc had seen you the entire day. There were probably a hundred different things you were doing - gathering resources, fighting slimes - and so Kaeya thought little of it.

But he was still disappointed not to see your face that night.

And so he thought nothing was wrong the next day when he saw you in the city square, talking to someone at the general store. He approached you and offered to join your party again, take down some enemies somewhere out in the country.

You didn’t even smile at him.

Not this time.

Just a curt no before you were leaving out the city gates.

The second time Kaeya already had enough and confronted you before you could even attempt to walk away.

He grabbed at your elbow, “Have you finally grown tired of me?”

You pulled it back, no real strength behind it as Kaeya still held you under his grip. “Kaeya, why is it that you keep reaching out to me? I have nothing of my own to offer - no money, no family - there is nothing left I can give you.”

He frowned in response but grabbed at your other hand, “I haven’t asked you for anything, have I?”

You looked away, “You don’t have to! It’s inherent, after all. Isn’t that why you asked me to team-up in the first place, to use me to find your criminals?”

Kaeya mentally recoiled, “Woah, back up. I may have guided you regarding the treasure but never have I maliciously led you on.”

You pulled at your hands to no avail, this time the captain actively trying to keep your attention on him. 

“I just! I thought I meant something more to you, Kaeya.”

He smiled and tried to pull you into his chest, but you shoved off his touch this time fully.

“No! You can’t just hug me and think everything is okay. You’re supposed to be one of the good guys, one of the handful of people I can trust in Mondstadt and I know nothing about you.”

Kaeya did not reach for your hands, instead moving to stand in front of you. “I’m sorry that I hold my secrets close to my chest, but that’s what I’m used to.”

Frustrated, you replied. “Don’t you get tired? Holding the people that love you at an arm's length?”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, this time reaching for you. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t special. Trust me, you’re the only one I’ve had eyes on ever since you landed here in Mondstadt.”

You shook your head, “But the bartender, she said -”

“Who cares what she said?” Kaeya interrupted, “They know village gossip, but they don’t know me or you.”

“I don’t really know you.” You replied.

Kaeya caressed the side of your cheek before lightly gently grabbing your hand again, “Then let’s start.”

With a hesitant smile, you closed your eyes and nodded.

“Okay.”

You had your doubts then and it’s not like an issue of trust was fixed overnight. But, to his credit, Kaeya tried as best he could. Instead of meeting randomly at the bar, he would approach you sometime during the day and set-up a date. How he knew where you were was a mystery, but a man with that many connections surely had a way.

He had no qualms about holding your hand or openly kissing your cheek in the presence of others - proclaiming loudly to one and all in Mondstadt that you were his and he was yours.

Taking your first argument to heart, Kaeya was very keen on communication. Anything you were unsure of, he expressed that he was by no means rushing you. And when you finally shared your first kiss, for once not a single soul in front of the Lord Barbatos statue, you leaned into his touch to get many more.

Kaeya made good on his promise, slowly letting you into his world in kind. You remembered one night as the both of you sat on the edge of Mondstadt, nothing but ocean for miles in front of you. You had your head on his shoulder, describing your adventures with your brother and how you missed having family.  

Kaeya had a gentle hand in your hair, rubbing soothing circles as you recalled a time long ago. Once your story finished, you two continued to stare out, wondering what the future could hold as your minds swam in an endless sea of thoughts.

He broke the silence.

“I miss my brother also.”

Diluc was not always his estranged brother, but once a friend, supporter, and sounding board. Some even mistook them as truly twins in heart and mind, defending Mondstadt and having each other’s backs for years. The Diluc you had come to know was a shell of his old self, close friends and past hidden behind years of repressed feelings.

There was no doubt wistfulness in Kaeya’s eyes as he recalled the past to you, but you continued to listen quietly. 

Your relationship with the Cavalry Captain was hardly easy. Often responsibilities called you both - Kaeya was highly stationed in Mondstadt while you still had seven other countries to visit. But that did not mean the end for you both. Even when you were thousands of miles away or sat atop the highest mountain without a clue to where he was, you cherished the thought that you still shared the same sky with the love of your life.

No matter where you were in Teyvat, you had Kaeya to return to.

#genshin kaeya #kaeya #kaeya ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya x oc #kaeya x lumine #kayea x you #kayea x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin diluc #genshin paimon #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagine #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin headcanon #genshin scenarios #genshin sceanrio #geshin #genshin venti #genshin x you #genshin impact requests #genshin reader insert #genshin x traveler #kaeya x traveler #genshin impact fanfiction

[auraalho]

Hi can you make diluc, xiao and childe love in first sight headcanon (separate)

𝗗𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗰, 𝗫𝗶𝗮𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ♥︎

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎, 𝑖’𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡, 𝑚𝑦 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡

𝗗𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗰 𝗥𝗮𝗴𝗻𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗿 ♥︎ 𝑎𝑘𝑎 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒

♡︎ Let me tell you something, he wasn’t planning getting in love with you.

♡︎ After everything that has happened to him, Diluc has created a barrier, a wall that is not easy to break, most people knew him for being a grumpy and lonely young man, but what they don’t know is that he is actually a very sensitive and kind person that doesn’t know how to open up to people.

♡︎ He thinks that by closing his heart to other people he will avoid more losses in his life, that is why he made sure to keep his distance with each new person he met. That until the day he met you of course.

♡︎ I can imagine that you, being a traveler, came from your home to the lands of Mondstadt to meet a friendly young man with blue hair (Better known as Kaeya) who offered to give you a walk around the town to help you know a little more about the place. Not without first inviting you a drink at the angel’s share tavern. And there’s where he meet you.

♡︎ You walked into the tavern with a smile as you told Kaeya about your recent explorations, how you got there and what your next plans would be. The redhead was about to complain about the presence of his brother until he realized the companion who came with him, the way your eyes lit up and how your smile appeared while you talked about what you were passionate about, he thought it was incredible cute and he didn't even know your name.

♡︎ While you were sitting at the bar having a lemonade with Kaeya talking to you about the places you should visit in Mondstadt, Diluc couldn’t help but constantly look at your figure, even when he was cursing himself and trying to not look at you, his eyes were wandering on their own and before that he realized he had already been looking at you directly for more than 10 minutes.

♡︎ Kaeya seems to have noticed this and with a malicious smile decides to tease his brother by suddenly including him in the conversation, causing him to blush without knowing what to say.

-So y/n this is Diluc, he knows the place very well, what do you think if we accompany you on your exploration of Mondstadt? We would help you a lot- said the one with blue eyes smiling at his brother.

Your eyes lit up again

-Really? Will you accompanying me? - You said looking at the redhead who was embarrassed enough to follow your gaze and panicking, he murmured very low that you could hardly hear him.

-I guess I am..- He said without knowing exactly what he was getting into, the only thing he knew was that you had stirred his heart, even without having the intention of doing it.

𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗲 ♥︎

♡︎ This man omg. He’s such a cutie.

♡︎ He is in fact the person I most likely see falling in love at first sight.

♡︎ Childe is a very charismatic person, most of the time he is with a smile while with comedy and sarcasm he overcomes his problems, besides being a very intrepid person.

♡︎ Most people can't keep up with it because they think it's weird.

♡︎ And that believe it or not makes him feel bad, but he knows that there is something wrong with him, always trying to be a certain type of person and trying to pretend that everything is fine. It's exhausting for him, but he never gives up, and goes on with his life.

♡︎ That is why he finds himself looking for someone sincere, someone who does not hide their feelings.

♡︎ And that's when you arrive. Walking through the streets of Liyue market, Childe finds himself looking for some cor lapis for Zhongli, the last few days he has spent running some commissions to distract his mind for a while, lately he has felt without energy and being around people made him feel a little better.

♡︎ A little bit distracted by his thoughts he notices the presence of someone next to him, their figure a little smaller than his.

♡︎ You, a traveler from Mondstadt, came to Liyue for a couple of commissions and one of them was to get some cor lapis for Mr. Albedo who was doing a new experiment. Your plan was to go to the mountains to get it on your own, because it is a fairly expensive material, but things took an unexpected turn and you ended up doing more commissions from people you meet on your way to Liyue, by the time you realized they was already 10:00 at night, and going alone to the mountains in a place where you had never been didn’t seem like a good idea, so you decided to buy it.

♡︎ But as I told you, it’s EXPENSIVE, so you find yourself struggling in counting enough mora to buy the mineral.

♡︎ The way your nose wrinkled when you the lost count and how your lips drew a small pout, seemed to him the most beautiful thing in the world and unknowingly he found himself smiling at your little problem.

♡︎ You were about to give up and come back empty-handed until the young man next to you offered to pay for it himself.

♡︎ He had no idea why, but the way your smile appeared as you thanked him for the favor made him feel a tingle in his heart and all he thought was that he wanted to see that smile forever.

𝗫𝗶𝗮𝗼 ♥︎

♡︎ Let me tell you something again, he wasn’t planning getting in love with you too.

♡︎ Just as Diluc, Xiao seems to be a quite reserved and calm person, almost nobody dares to talk to him because he looks very intimidating.

♡︎ He never expected someone to come into his life as the way you did, like a gust of wind, without warning, and that made him nervous because he didn’t know how to control his feelings and had no idea of ​​these new emotions.

♡︎ It may sound funny but in his long life he had always solved things with his spear and hitting his problems. So finding himself in a situation like this where he CLEARLY can't do this would make him very dizzy and maybe a little scared.

♡︎ But let’s move on into the meeting;)

♡︎ You’re a liyue alchemist, always exploring and investigating new things, it was what you liked the most in life and your adventurous spirit led you to exploration in search of new ingredients for your experiments.

♡︎ However, things didn’t end up as expected and you ended up in a heated fight with two ruin hunters on the Guili plains that left you quite exhausted. So looking for a place to spend the night you ended up at the Wangshu Inn meeting a lonely adeptus who spent his nights on the roof of this.

♡︎ When you got there you couldn't help but take a look at the roof, the moon looked so calm and the stars so happy, who wouldn't want to see a view like that? while you were hypnotized with the scenery in front your eyes you didn’t notice the penetrating gaze of a young man who was in the same place as you.

♡︎ Thousands of things were happening in the head of the amber-eyed, the first thing he thought when he saw a person arrive to interrupt his lonely night was to leave there immediately.

♡︎ But he didn't, he wanted to but couldn't, his eyes were drawn to you, almost like a magnet, as much as he wanted to look away and get up from there he couldn't and didn't know why. Perhaps it was your fascinating presence with which you saw the moon as if it were the most precious thing in the world, or how the wind fluttered your hair elegantly. He didn’t know, but he had spent 2000 years looking at the beautiful moon and had never imagined someone as gorgeous as it, but you, you were fascinating.

♡︎ After a while of being there you decided to enter your room and that’s when you will find his beautiful eyes, almost like 2 stars, like 2 moons looking at you. You stayed there for a moment, admiring the beauty of it and just when you were about to greet him, he disappeared with the wind, leaving you there in the middle of the lonely night.

#genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin diluc #genshin childe #genshin xiao #diluc headcanons #childe headcanons #xiao headcanons #diluc x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader

[danses-with-dogmeat]

I'm feeling a little melancholy at the moment, how would Hancock comfort/cheer up a lady sole survivor who is feeling down in the dumps? This can be a headcanon or a drabble, whichever your muse wishes to write and it's a romantic Hancock who's pining for the sole. Both have low self-esteem and sole is shy. Thank you in advance!

Thank you so much for the ask, anon! I love this prompt, and I think I’m going to do headcannons for all the companions based on it at some point, but for now, here is a drabble! Hopefully this is the kinda thing you were looking for, I think I might’ve gotten a little carried away, but I hope you enjoy!

Hancock surveyed his bar, looking over the patrons, and back up to Magnolia as she began her rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “Strangers in the Night,” and the ghoul's smokey gaze once again fell to the seat in the corner of the Third Rail. 

She was there, nursing an iced beverage in her hand; the amber liquid appearing to be whiskey.

"Tell me Fahrenheit, do people drink whiskey when they're happy?" He turned to the redhead lounging on the couch beside him.

"Depends how much." She stared ahead, absentmindedly swirling the gin and tonic in her hand.

"Three or four glasses in the last hour." He said. She followed his gaze to where it rested, rolling her eyes at him.

"You've been staring at her for the past hour? Tell me, why haven’t you gone over there yet? I know you enjoy a healthy dose of masochism every once in a while, but the self-induced suffering seems pretty constant whenever she’s involved.” Fahrenheit gestured with her glass towards the corner by the bar, where Sole was seated, already close to being finished with her beverage.

“Always so quick to judge. Sole’s a popular gal, I thought she might be waiting for someone. If that was the case, then who am I to-”

“Ugh, if you don’t get your ass over there and talk to her, I’m locking you out of the State House.” Hancock’s hat tipped forward as his gaze migrated to the floor of the bar.

Fahrenheit shifted to sit up from her lounging position. “Alright, what the hell is it with this chick? It’s like she turns you into that kid on the radio. All scared and awkward.”

“I know. Listen, I don’t know what it is either. She’s just… different. I actually give a shit about what she thinks of me, you know? And I don’t wanna lose her as a friend because I was coming onto her too strong.”

“I think you’re just being a pussy about having real feelings for someone.”

“Shit, red, that’s cold. Even for you.” At that, Hancock pushed his hat back to its correct position on his head and stood, rolling his shoulders as he prepared to face the person he had “real” feelings for.

“Fine,” he turned to glance back at Fahrenheit one more time, “You win. But if this goes south, I’m holding you responsible.” He turned and started towards the bar.

“And what it if it goes north?” Fahrenheit called after him, uttering a soft chuckle as he walked away. 

Hancock noticed Sole’s eyes fall on him as he approached the bar and tried not to be too obvious as he ordered another whiskey on ice for her, and one for himself. He was still coming off a mentats high, but he needed something to take the edge off. Grabbing the drinks, he turned deliberately to her.

“How you holdin’ up, sister? You looked a little low there.” He gestured at her now empty glass, reaching out to hand her the new drink.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” She said, smiling weakly at him as she took it.

“That seat taken?”

She looked to her left and shook her head.

“All yours, if you want.”

“Course I do, who wouldn’t wanna sit next to a lovely little thing like you?” She let out a feeble chuckle at his words, and the ridge above his eyes knitted together as he noticed the lack of light behind her eyes as she stared down at the floor.

He took a swig of his whiskey, draining half of his glass in one gulp. Sole looked over and drew her own glass to her lips, grimacing slightly at the bite of the whiskey. The two sat in silence for a bit, listening as Magnolia’s song came to an end and the conversations around the bar grew to a dull roar. 

“Sorry I’m not better company, Hancock.” She uttered quietly. 

“Nonsense. I could sit silently beside you all night, and you’d still be better company than half the commonwealth. But hey, if you wanna talk about it, I know it doesn’t look like it, but I got two good ears over here.” She laughed a little more genuinely at that, and Hancock felt a little flutter in his chest.

“Thanks, but really it’s- Okay, it’s just… nothing.”

“Hmm. Yeah, seems like it. Real convincing there, sister.” She finally looked up to meet his gaze. “C’mon, Sole,” he whispered softly, “it’s okay, you can tell me. After all I done, you think I’m in any position to judge you?” Sole looked away and downed her drink, before placing her fifth empty glass on the table beside the others. He drained the remainder of his own beverage in response, hoping the gesture might help settle her nerves a bit.

Sole took a deep, shaky breath. 

“It’s not… something.” She stopped, looking at him with desperation behind her eyes, willing him to understand without her having to say it. Hancock was many, many things, and he would become almost anything if it meant pleasing Sole, but he wasn’t a mind reader. Instead, he smiled at her and nodded for her to continue.

“It’s… God, it’s just everything. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I used to feel like I had made it so far. When I saw the world after leaving that vault, I just, I don’t know, I just adapted. I moved on and I survived. Even when I learned that 200 years had passed, and I realized that everyone I ever knew was dead, I persisted. I pushed through. I was sad, of course, but at least I could function. Then, when I found out about Shaun and the Institute, when I saw him and... and he was older than me, when I found out how he felt about me, the way he saw me as nothing more than an experiment, I just…” Tears glistened at the corners of her eyes, punctuating the end of her sentence. No words were needed now, he understood. He wanted to reach out to her, to pull her into his arms and hold her tight, to let her know she wasn’t alone, that he was here for her, and would be as long as he was living. Instead, he reached a scarred hand towards her own that rested on the arm of her chair. She shuddered slightly as his fingers made contact with the back of her hand, and he was afraid she would pull away. But she just dropped her gaze to watch as he settled his hand atop hers, his thumb gently stroking over her knuckles.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re goin’ through, Sole.” He said, his dark eyes meeting hers, “But no matter what, I’m here for you. Anything you need, it’s yours, you hear?” She sniffled slightly, and Hancock thought he heard a soft “thanks,” but he couldn’t be sure.

“You remember the day we met?” He said, his thumb still brushing softly over her hand.

“How could I forget? You killed a guy.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I sure did, heh.”

“What was his name again?” She asked him, a little bit of life returning to her strained voice.

“Finn.”

“Oh yeah, I remember now.”

“Yeah, real jackass, he was.” Sole grinned at that, and Hancock's eyes lit up, reveling in the fact that his words managed to bring a smile to her face, meager as it may be, it beat tears any day.

“You remember why I killed him?” He asked her.

“Cuz he was a jackass?” The ghoul chuckled at that, his hand squeezing hers ever so slightly.

“Close, but that’s not all of it. He was a jackass to you, sweetheart. And that didn’t sit right with me, even then.” Her eyes met his as she began to understand where he was going with this.

“But lemme tell you something, how I cared then? Shit’s nothing compared to how I care now.” He whispered the last sentence, leaning in closer to her. Hancock willed himself to say more, to tell her how much he cared for her, tell her everything he would do for her, he wanted to make a move to hold her hand tighter, or to lean into her even further, to eliminate the gap between them altogether, but he was paralyzed by her unbroken gaze.

“You mean it?” She whispered so softly, he almost didn’t hear it over the buzz of the bar.

“You kiddin’? Every damn word. And just for the record, there’s nothing wrong with the way you’re feeling right now, Sole. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and if anybody else went through the shit that you have, they wouldn’t have made it through day one. But you? You haven’t just survived out here, you’ve made a difference. You didn’t have to, background like yours, you coulda become a fuckin raider or crime boss or some shit and I wouldn’t have blamed you, but no. Here you go, one-upping everyone else who thought they had a tragic backstory and becoming the best damn person in the Commonwealth. Really ruins it for the rest of us rabble, you know.” Sole’s eyebrows creased together and her eyes began to glisten again as tears threatened to spill over. Shit. What did I say? Hancock’s heart pounded in his chest as he tried desperately to think of a way to undo whatever he just did. That feeling soon vanished as Sole fell forward, arms draping around Hancock’s shoulders, as she buried her head into the crook of his neck. He released the breath he had been holding and brought his own arms around to envelop her, squeezing tightly as warmth spread through the expanse of his chest.

“Thank you.” She whispered softly. And Hancock was sure he’d heard it this time.

#fallout #fallout companions #fallout companions react #fallout companions reactions #fallout companions reacts #fallout 4 #fo4 #fo4 reacts #fo4 react #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 companions react #fallout 4 companions reactions #fallout 4 companions reacts #fallout headcanons #fallout 4 headcanons #ghouls #fallout hancock #john hancock #hancock #sole #sole survivor #f!sole #f!sole survivor #fahrenheit #fallout fahrenheit

[inmyownlaine]

Hi,love your writing and was wondering if I could request a John Murphy fluff/angst based on season 2or3 where the reader and him get in an argument about him ‘being with Emori’ but he likes the reader?

John Murphy x Reader: Promises

*Absolutely! Thank you for the suggestion. Also, let's just act like I haven't been MIA for literal months :)

GIF//

Warnings: None to my knowledge!

Word Count: 2078

────────────────────────────────────────────

“Don’t go,” you begged, grabbing Murphy’s hand as it swung carelessly behind him. When your fingers touched his skin, Murphy stopped immediately. He inhaled heavily through his nose, trying to control the sadness and desire that you sent rippling through his body.

“Murphy, please,” you whimpered.

Murphy’s shoulder dropped as he let the single strap of his backpack slide down his arm. Your eyes lit up, hoping that was a positive sign. Hoping that you were enough to make him stay.

“I can’t.”

“You can,” you said assertively. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he replied, apologetic eyes looking at you between half-closed eyelids. He was right. You didn’t understand. He had nothing to apologize for. He didn’t have to prove himself to you. Or ask for your forgiveness. None of the things that his blue eyes seemed to convey.

“You don’t need redemption.”

“But if I go now, maybe when I come back-”

“What?” you interrupted. “Everything will suddenly be different?”

“Is it so wrong to want that?” he questioned softly, a shaky sigh leaving his body. You tightened your grip, white knuckles against red calloused ones. Just another casualty of his bad temper.

“Of course not. But you’re not going to fix anything by leaving. You need to stay. Stay and show them who you can be. Don’t leave and prove them right.”

Murphy dropped his head, fixated on your two hands intertwined. There was a lot more going on than the surface discussion. You danced around being in love by using double meanings and knowing glances. This wasn’t about him leaving to find himself. It was about him leaving you.

Glassy eyes meet together in a flurry of uncertainty and passion. The pit of your stomach churned as Murphy leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. They barely touched before he pulled away, eyes closed. It was a kiss that you never wanted to experience, especially being your first.

You knew he was leaving.

“Don’t cry,” he told you, hearing a sniffle escape. His eyes still rested, he quietly spoke, “I will be back. I promise. I have something to come back to.”

“Murphy, I-”

“I promise.” He now faced the reality of the situation, confronting his fears head on as he stared into your bloodshot eyes. There was no way he would ever be the cause of this again. He just needed one chance to make you proud. To clear his name.

“I promise.”

────────────────────────────────────────────

The taste of dirt and sweat caused you to gag as you were manhandled into the unknown. You had no idea why you were the target of a kidnapping. If anything, you laid low and kept to yourself. Regardless, you followed the directions given to you, fearing what would become of your life if you didn’t.

“I’ve brought you some company!” the voice behind you bellowed. You jumped at the sudden noise, interested in the way he practically sang the announcement.

“Who?” another voice asked, seeming alert and slightly panicked. You knew this voice anywhere and it quickly became clear why you were here. Even still, you obeyed the commands given. If you spoke a word, made any noise, it would be the end of your life.

“Worried, are we?” The man started to laugh heartily as you continued to walk. Every thundering step matched the beating of your heart. What would happen when you finally stopped?

There was no response, so the man began to speak. “Someone who wouldn’t shut up about you. Scared for you. Desperate to see you.”

As if being captured weren’t enough, this was just plain humiliating. He didn’t have to recount all the times you pined after Murphy while he was gone. You lost track of the months it had been since you last saw him. This was not how you wanted to reunite.

“Who. Is. It?” Murphy asked yet again. It was dark and menacing. A resemblance of a person that he used to be. You knew that would always be a part of him. Especially when it involved people that he cared about.

“A girlfriend?” the man guessed. You cringed hearing that word, tormenting and taunting you of what never was. But how Murphy replied was even more heartbreaking.

“Emori?” The man began to cackle once more as Murphy cursed and threatened his life. It was terrible to hear the intensity of his love. How much he cared for someone else while you turned others down, waiting for him.

The man gave you one last shove, causing you to fall to your knees. Through minute gaps in the woven sack over your head, you finally caught an amber hue of light. You groaned in pain, trying your best to stay upright with your hands tied behind your back.

There was a brief moment of silence before another outburst broke out. This time, you heard the scuffling of feet against the floor. Fabric harshly rubbed against a scratchy surface. It sounded like an attempt to escape.

“Let her go!” Murphy yelled.

“Why would I do that? I have everything I need, now. Except for the information.”

“Just let her go and I’ll tell you, okay? I’ll tell you everything,” Murphy frantically said.

“But I’m having so much fun. Maybe just one...little…” A cold blade touched your neck, causing a shriek to escape your throat. He put an ounce of pressure against your rapidly thumping artery.

“I swear to God if you hurt her I will kill you!” Murphy’s voice was full of anguish as it broke here and there. It was a frequency in which you had never heard from him. It was harrowing to witness.

The knife was removed from your neck. In a series of exchanges, Murphy gave him the answer to every single question he asked. When the interrogation was over, you were picked up and moved to a new area. Here, you were tied once more around my stomach.

Then, without warning, the bag was removed from your head. You could barely take in my surroundings before Murphy called your name. Tears fell from your eyes as you saw, for the first time in months, John Murphy. Though you had to admit, he looked worse for wear.

“Murphy,” you cried back, wanting more than anything to be able to touch him. To hug him. To take in his scent. You had been without this man for way too long.

“That’s sweet,” the man, who you could now identify as Titus, interrupted. “But I’ve got what I wanted. For now.” And with that, he turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving you and Murphy alone.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Murphy asked immediately.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “But you don’t look good at all.”

“Yeah, well, being tortured does that to a person.”

“He tortured you?” you questioned, breath leaving your body. Picturing someone hurting Murphy made you sick.

“A few times,” he shrugged.

You wanted to be happy. You wanted to ask him about his trip. You wanted to know if he discovered himself. If he found who he truly was. But you couldn’t get past the fact that he said another girl’s name.

You never claimed to be anything more than friends, but you thought it went without saying. A person doesn’t just kiss someone before they leave. Or promise that they would come back to you.

“I hate that I have to see you like this,” Murphy finally said, breaking the silence. “I always imagined coming back to camp with Jaha’s group. We just saved the human race, or something like that. But it didn’t matter, because I was looking for you.”

“Not Emori?” you mumbled, mustering up the courage to be so bold. Murphy’s eyes grew wide as he avoided your haunting gaze.

“Look, it wasn’t supposed to- she just- we were,” he tried to explain, slumping over in the process.

“I waited for you. Every day,” you admitted. “The last thing I did before I went to bed was look out the gate for you. Every morning I woke up with the hope that it would be the day you came back to me.”

You started to sob, recounting the loneliness that you felt. And the fear of not knowing Murphy’s fate. Were you holding out for someone who was dead? Was it hopeless to wish that he would keep his promise?

“I turned people down. I kept faith in you. I told everyone how proud I was. And then to know that you weren’t keeping me with you at all. I wasn’t even a passing thought.”

“It’s not like that,” Murphy said.

“But it is. She’s your girlfriend.”

“I don’t- love her,” he said softly, swallowing hard enough to make his entire throat bob up and down.

“Then what?” You were at the tipping point with Murphy. Exasperated with his short answers and frustrated with the secrets he was holding. If he wouldn’t be honest with you now, there was no way you would ever be with him in the future.

“I’ve been through a lot. More than I expected.” He stared into the distance, seemingly void of emotion. It was like he was lost, trying hard to remember something that he pushed away. “I was trapped. By myself. 86 days. You know how I spent that time?”

You shook your head in response. He was still burning holes in the wall, but somehow knew that you replied. He smirked slightly before saying, “I thought about you. And how good it would feel to see you once I was out. Granted, I went absolutely crazy in there, but you kept me as sane as I could be.”

You couldn’t help but to chuckle at this. “I can’t imagine you any more psychotic than you are now.”

“Is that so?” he bantered, catching you out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re a freak,” you teased.

“Why? Because I’ve killed a few people?”

“Yeah, that probably contributes.” The two of you shared a smile, falling back into old patterns. You missed having a person that you could shamelessly be yourself around. The quick wit and sly comments were always absorbed and thrown back by Murphy. No one else stood a chance against you.

“When he said he had someone,” Murphy carried on, “you’re the first person I thought of. But it seemed impossible until I saw you. I don’t know what came over me. I- I was blind with rage. I tried to fight my way out. Because if he hurt you-”

Murphy couldn’t bear to finish the sentence. You didn’t need him to. You knew what was left to say. You heard the distinct difference, the silence that fell, when he realized you were the captured person and not Emori.

“I know that doesn’t make any of this right, but I just wanted that feeling of safety that you gave me. And Emori was there. I misplaced it. And I’m sorry,” Murphy apologized.

“What about Emori, then?” you pressed.

“She’s a good person, and she will understand. I just couldn’t live with myself if I left you again.”

“You mean that?” Murphy simply nodded, outstretching his fingers in your direction. Even though you couldn’t hold hands, the sentiment remained as you reflected his actions. You were two people trying to make your own light in the darkest of situations.

“I love you,” you managed to choke out, taking in the dried blood on his hairline and the bruises on his skin. His pant leg was ripped at the cuff and his hands were caked in dirt. You needed him to know that no matter what happened, now and forever, that he could carry this with him. Even after death, if fate so decided.

“I love you, too,” he said, without hesitation or a second thought. It was something he wished he had told you the night he decided to leave. The only thing he regretted once he left the compound.

But he had the chance to fix all of that. And in that moment, he swore that once you escaped, he would always be there to protect you. He would always console you and your wondering thoughts. He would love you the way that he should have a long time ago.

He promised he would always find a way to come back to you.

He promised he would never leave.

He promised.

**Hey, it's Lainey. Slightly embarrassing but I am back from the grave! I hope you all enjoy this and still love Murphy as much as I do <3

#john murphy #john murphy fanfic #john murphy imagine #john murphy x reader #the100 #The 100 #the100fanfic #the100fanfiction #the100fic #johnmurphyfic #love #writing #john murphy fanfiction #johnmurphyimagine

[insomniasymphony]

Obsessive Hisoka Morow x Female Reader [He cannot hate you]

Constellation: Obsessive Hisoka Morow x Female Reader Words I got: → Protective → Duality → Affection Rating: Teen up and Audience

                            ►► He is the devil with a sweet tooth,                               And you are the candy on his tongue.                       Get on your knees and ask him to choose                                     Nothing sweeter than you.                              For sweetness doesn't last long. ◄◄

Hectically, you jerk your head from left to right, look around for other cars and take a breath when there are no others blocking the road. In the cold evening air, your legs carry you in hurried steps across the asphalt, to the other side of the pavement that should lead you through the houses of Yorknew. Further and further, until the hotel room is forever gone.

The breath on your lips rises in white clouds, bringing something wistful with it that you don't want to pay attention to. Still, you can't rid yourself of the thought in the back of your mind.

It's not too late to give up on your plan.

You could drag yourself back to the room you've been sharing with Hisoka for four days, put on something pretty and wait for the magician to return from his meeting. He'd tell you about his new plan, kiss you, and fuck your senses into no-man's land for half the night because you're his favourite toy.

That's the problem: you're just a doll that can be replaced.

He's never said that he loves you, even though you've been spending every spare minute together for six months. Hisoka took you on his journey and he hasn't let you out of his sight since.

You shower together, eat together, he kills anyone you exchange too many kind words with. It's as if he wants to shut you off from the world so that you belong to him alone.

But this obsessive nature of his is nothing but terror for you. Sometimes you long for freedom, which you know Hisoka will never give you. He would rather strangle to death with his own hands than see you go. His subliminal threats make that clear time and time again.

And tonight you are ready to die for your freedom.

A little more hastily, you hurry ahead, turn into a narrow alley and hear the echo of your footsteps rising up the stone walls. Each reverberation makes your skin seem colder under your soft woolen coat. The goosebumps don't subside, the shiver persists, and you can't help but believe that behind every shadow is a part of Hisoka. His intense gaze has made you paranoid.

Briefly, you shake your head. This time his eyes won't be able to pierce you. When Hisoka returns, the hotel room will be empty and you will be long gone – so far away from him, with a new name and a new life, that he won't find you. For three weeks you have been looking for someone who would save you and Hisoka from this relationship and you have indeed found someone who wants to fulfil all your wishes for a lot of money in exchange.

Your gaze wanders once briefly over your shoulder. Through the echo of your own flight, you can no longer perceive anything but your own movements. Hisoka could be walking right behind you and you wouldn't notice. The racing of your heart makes the blood rush in your ears and everything else inside you is so erratically tense that you don't know if your nerves can hold it all together.

Only when the alley ends and sends you between other streets to find safety, a tiny part of the fear falls away, still simmering underneath.

Across the street, at least fourteen cars have parked. This area of the city seems like a residential neighbourhood where men return to their loving wives. The husband old-fashioned in a suit while she wears an apron because dinner is boiling on the cooker. Docile women in the kitchen who have no time to look for other men. Probably that's exactly what Hisoka is longing for too. A woman who only has eyes for him. All day long. Without exception. Locked up like a bird in a cage.

Even though you never intended to replace him. Hisoka is the man who won your heart. A guy who goes through life strong and ruthless, but always takes great care to make sure you're okay.

Your steps slow down as you stop at the edge of the pavement. One of the vehicles is started, flashing its headlights three times. The sign that this is your getaway car. The man who will take you away. Away from Hisoka, whose arms have wrapped protectively around you more than once in the last six months. His warmth on your skin has always been comforting and even though you know he hates it when you talk to other men and he has left marks on your body as a safety for himself as a result, his company has always been loving. He has never hurt you unless you found sexual pleasure in it. He never raised his voice at you. Never did he try to lock you up. His only crimes are the threats that still jump through your senses and also the fact that he likes to corner and intimidate you.

On top of that, he messes with people for your sake who are more dangerous than one might think at first. Yes, you love him. But if you don't leave, he will either throw you away or he will be killed because of you. You are poison to each other, you can't explain it any other way.

Yet, you don't want to go. The fear in your heart has made room for sorrow and the desire to run back into his strong, protective arms is strong.

Swallowing dryly, you give yourself a push. You have no choice but to make the best decision for both of you. Your feet start moving again and you drag yourself along, reaching the car you're getting into. You find room in the back seat, the fabric of which clings to you strangely and uncomfortably as you take a shaky breath and look in the rearview mirror for a half-glimpse of your helper's round face.

“Are you ready, good lady?” His smoky voice scrapes through the atmosphere, merely making you nod before he finally starts the engine and drives off. Your heart sinks four floors deeper, smothered in grief and fear, both of which settle on too many things in your chest. Maybe you're making a mistake, but this relationship has no future.

You feel the car smoothly take the turns, hear the engine accelerate, sense every bump in your bones. You claw your sweaty hands into the upholstery as you reprimand yourself to rest with conscious inhales and exhales. It's over, you've escaped, given you both the freedom you deserve.

Yorknew's houses diminish for a moment, bringing trees and the parkland to the fore where you would have loved to have a romantic walk. But Hisoka doesn't think much of boring strolls. He likes sex. Togetherness where you are close to each other – all to yourselves, so that you can snuggle up to him and you just sit there. Amusement parks. Bungee gum. You.

The thought draws a sigh from you before the car makes a strange rattling sound, forcing the driver to stop. You halt at the side of the road, so you can't help but hold your breath.

“What was that?” you press out.

“If I saw right, I just accidentally drove over a marten,” the stranger returns to you, making you exhale because it's not a horror movie you're in after all. Then he gets out.

The open door, which he doesn't close, brightens up the inside of the vehicle, makes the outside world a little more unfriendly than it really is and forces you to get out too, because you can't find a quiet minute alone on this upholstery.

Slowly you push your way back into the cold of the darkness, glancing at the streetlights flickering conspiratorially before circling the car to check on your driver. But all you see in front of the bonnet is a trail of blood. Not a marten. No one. Probably he's just taking the dead animal away, burying it so the kids won't get spooked in the park the next day.

The cool air seems to bite down to your bones, numbing your skin as you count off two minutes. The restlessness keeps you looking around and for a moment you are willing to jump in the car and eagerly drive on. But your driver also has your new identity and all the other things that have been so painstakingly prepared. You can't leave without him. So you stroll a few steps towards the park. Just until the blackness seems to swallow everything, because the flickering streetlamps don't give enough light for more.

Tense, you cross your arms in front of your chest, bobbing up and down before gnawing fear begs for action. “Hello?”

Only silence returns to your question and you can't help but take a step over the dark threshold and venture further ahead to find your driver. Three, four feet ahead to the first tree closest to you. “What's wrong?”

Again you meet only silence, staggering a few more steps ahead and giving up in the same breath. A glance over your shoulder moves the car, which is already a few metres away from you, into a ghostly, almost lonely picture, apart from the other vehicles that pass by every now and then. No one seems to care about the abandoned automobile.

A little more annoyed, you take a breath, shake your head as something wet hits your cheek and you instantly look up because the sky didn't look like rain at all when you started running.

And it still doesn't.

Nevertheless, your heart stops for a beat.

Cold seems to consume you from within, makes you pull your coat tighter.

Up there, above you, fixed between branches, the lifeless eyes of the man who was supposed to help you escape stare back at you. His arms hang twisted above him and his legs are missing entirely. In the darkness, suffused with moonlight, you can only make out the bitter facts. And one of them is death.

“Do you like it?”

Instantly you suck in the air sharply, turning around in an instant only to catch sight of Hisoka. Leaning relaxed against a tree, he shuffles his cards as if nothing has happened. “I thought we had decided that you would wait in the hotel room. Where were you going with that man at such a late hour?”

His gaze lifts so that his amber eyes can look at you, while his features wait in a lack of enthusiasm for answers. You don't know if he's angry, but his expression seems to threaten you.

“I-I... I wanted to...” What do you want to say anyway? You don't know yourself what exactly you wanted other than to just get away from him for too many things that seem wrong. “Away.”

“Where to?”, Hisoka inquires, pushing himself off the trunk and coming closer. The cards disappear into the pockets of his white trousers in the same blink.

“Just... away,” you counter, unable to look at him any further because his eyes seem to look right down into your core.

“From me?” He pauses in front of you. “Why?”

Again your attention jerks to him and you hate the fact that he is wearing heels because it only makes him taller than he already is.

“You... are... constricting me.”

“Is that so?” The almost biting undertone in his voice is frightening. But you don't have time to think of what his next move might be as he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look at him very closely. His grip is so tight around your jawbone as he does so that you panic he might break it.

Then he leans towards you, breathes such a gentle kiss on your lips that, along with fear, terrible warmth rises up inside you. Your heart races wildly, but you don't know if it's the fear or the longing. Seeing him like this, knowing he is so close to you, is cruel because you love him, don't want to leave him, but don't want to see either of you die either.

The mere thought of losing him, or not being good enough anymore, knots your stomach as your vision blurs and the sobs in your throat quietly spill out.

Hisoka watches this rection, loosening his grip around your chin and running his thumb over your lips. A little like he wants more words from you. And you can't help but give them to him in a gush.

“I love you, Hisoka. I really do. But this can't work.” You have to swallow to keep from breaking into a raspy cough. “You lock me up like I'm your pet and you're messing with people who might kill you one day.” The first tear rolls down your cheeks unintentionally, making you wipe it away in frustration because you don't want to seem like an effeminate damsel in distress. “You're going to kill yourself because of me. And if not for that, then one day you'll just throw me away because you're not a man for life. And I'm afraid that by then I'll love you so much that I won't be able to stand it. So I was gonna let you go. And I can understand if you hate the decision, but isn't that the duality you love to talk about? Love and hate, both sides of the same coin? I-” Hisoka interrupts you as he takes your face in his hands and forcibly pulls you to him, far enough to force you onto your toes to press a kiss to your lips. A warm touch full of affection so gentle it takes your breath away.

Then he lets go of you, remains close in front, but his features are adorned with a friendly smile that makes him a little suspicious, while his hand caresses your cheek. As he does so, he brushes your lower eyelid, collecting another tear that was about to escape.

The tenderness he has for you irritates you so much that every one of your brain cells shuts down for a breath before Hisoka focuses on you again, piercing you with a blank stare. The atmosphere between you grows heavier.

“You think too much about nothingness, love.” His voice is so soft that it seems almost deadly at the same time. “And because you're like that, I'm going to let you get away with it for today.” He leans down to your ear, licks once over the shell with the tip of his tongue. “But if you run away again, I will kill you.”

“H-Hisoka...” You don't know what you can say to appease him. Nothing seems good enough. But Hisoka understands, straightening up to look at you again, putting on that playful smile he goes through life with. “Or I can put you in chains so I can have you with me for the rest of my life. Whichever option you like better.”

He tilts his head, looking at you with mockery and at the same time with a barely perceptible commitment so that you can feel the blush on your cheeks. On one hand, he's making a fool of you, on the other, he's conveying in his own unique way that he's sure he wants you for himself – forever.

He can't stay mad at you for long, can't even punish you for your terrible action, just takes you as you are, as if he has a weakness for all your stupid words and your troubled feelings.

And in those seconds you know that he loves you no less than you love him.

[Picture from a card collecting game]

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[heliads]

The Hearts of the Hopeless

You are utterly in love with Pietro Maximoff, but he’s an Avenger, and way out of your league. Pietro is utterly in love with Y/N L/N, but she’s an effortlessly cool S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and completely beyond him. However, they may reveal certain truths after one jealousy-filled night at a local bar.

masterlist

If you glance over to your right ever so slightly, eyes narrowed to see through the halfway opened door, you can just manage to see him. He’s leaning against a wall, watching the last couple of minutes of a S.H.I.E.L.D. debriefing. You’re not surprised that he isn’t seated- you don’t think the guy could ever stay still for longer than a couple of seconds. Those happen to be the downsides of moving faster than anyone else around you- you tend to get bored fairly quickly.

Of course you’re thinking about Pietro Maximoff, and of course your eye just happens to fall on him when you’re supposed to be running through some paperwork. But there’s a veritable mountain of forms in front of you, and the man is just a few feet away, so how were you ever supposed to focus? You’re not sure when your little crush developed, but you are sure that it is absolutely, wholly, one hundred percent going to ruin your life. How could it not? Pietro Maximoff is an Avenger, an enhanced speed demon, a smooth-talking flirt who manages to turn your world upside down with just a flash of a smile. You are a perfectly normal S.H.I.E.L.D. officer whose only talent is finding ways to get distracted from doing her paperwork.

You can still remember when you first met him. You had been the leader of a squad of S.H.I.E.L.D. reinforcements sent to help the Avengers out of a situation that had gone south. You had thrown yourself into the thick of the fighting as required, and made eye contact with him for the first time after taking a few shots at retreating enemy agents. Your heart had done a little flip in your chest, and you’d hurried to adjust your gun as an excuse for why you had suddenly stopped dead in your tracks, unable to divert your attention back to the literal battle raging around you.

You weren’t sure what Pietro thought of you other than that you were just another agent. He certainly saw dozens of them per day as an Avenger, yet you had a slight advantage over the other lovesick interns because of your friendship with the Avengers. You’d been close friends with Natasha Romanoff ever since the two of you were stuck on a tough assignment that everyone else was too scared to even attempt. Despite all the dangers, you two had fought together and had each other's backs more times than you could count. After that, it was practically impossible to not see her as a friend. Just like it was practically impossible to not find your eyes catching on Pietro whenever you were spending time over at Avengers Tower, or even now, when you should be focusing on your forms.

You sigh to yourself. Hopeless. You’re so completely, utterly hopeless.

Pietro should be focusing on the debriefing. He should be nodding in understanding with the other agents, he should be scanning the data files for the appropriate information, and he should definitely not be smiling to himself over the fact that he can just make out the form of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Y/N L/N through a door that had been thankfully left ajar by some blessed intern.

She’s sitting at her desk, fingers tapping slightly in concentration as she studies a set of forms corresponding to her latest assignment. They share the same habit, actually, of always needing to be doing something. Except whenever Y/N does it she seems like a confident, action-oriented secret agent, and when Pietro does it, he seems like an easily bored sprinter. If he had even a fraction of her cool, he could practically take over the world.

Pietro can still remember the first time he saw her. It was at some battle with the Avengers, when they were outnumbered ten to one. Pietro is used to impossible odds, but that one fight had been too stacked against them so Cap had called in the S.H.I.E.L.D. reinforcements. At first, Pietro had been annoyed. Why ask S.H.I.E.L.D. for help? He knew there would be some greasy nobody in charge, who’d bristle at taking Stark’s orders and just be a hindrance.

But then the doors to the quinjet had burst open, and a young woman had strode purposefully down the landing, gun already raised and taking aim. Every move seemed orchestrated, every step and attack a work of art. She hadn’t actually noticed him until they’d been fighting side by side, and then she’d looked up at him and it was like time stopped moving entirely. She had the most beautiful eyes, and when they’d met his gaze Pietro felt like he couldn’t move a muscle, even at normal speed.

She, apparently, had been just fine, and casually readjusted her weapon before continuing on with the fight. Pietro was left with a stupid little smile on his face until a bullet had come screaming his way, and then he was jolted back to reality in time to dodge the projectile. Still, he couldn’t help sneaking glances her way during the entire fight. She was just so effortless, so amazing. Y/N claims to be human, but Pietro is fairly sure that her secret superpower is pure and utter perfection. How else would she manage to be that amazing?

Pietro looks up as people start filing out of the room, and he realizes that the debriefing has concluded. He lingers for a moment longer, wanting to catch one last glimpse of Y/N, but the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are blocking the door. Pietro reaches to the table in front of him to collect his things, and when he looks up again, his sister is standing in front of him, a triumphant smirk on her face. “You know, I’m fairly sure we were supposed to be focusing on the mission reports, not the pretty agent next door.”

Pietro rolls his eyes. “You know, I appreciate you wanting to have twin quality time, but I was assuming the first thing you said wasn’t going to be making fun of me.” Wanda laughs. “You’re hopeless. What else can I talk about? You’re practically obsessed with her.” Pietro gives her a look. “You can’t tease me about that. Aren’t you the one who’s in love with a robot? You could swap him out for one of Stark’s suits and it would pretty much be the same.” Wanda frowns, but can’t keep her grin back for longer than a couple of seconds. “Are you trying to say I’ve gone crazy for falling in love with an android?” Pietro grins. “Honestly, you might have already.” Wanda huffs out an irritated breath. “At least I can focus on a debriefing when he’s in the same room as me. I mean, what would it take for you to pay attention? For her to be the one addressing everyone?”

Pietro holds up his hands in defense. “Alright, alright. I get it. I’m in love with Y/N. Have you made your point clear, or do you want to keep going?” Wanda smirks. “I’m here to offer advice. I heard Natasha’s going to ask around and see if anyone’s up to get drinks. That includes you, but most importantly, it includes Y/N. This is your shot.” Pietro glances back towards that open door, where he can still see Y/N sitting at her desk, a slight frown on her face as she considers the document in front of her. “I’ll ask her. You don’t have to worry about that.”

It’s not like he could do anything differently. Wanda is right- Pietro is absolutely hopeless.

You’ve just managed to finish off your work when Natasha appears in your doorway. She knocks once on the open door frame and you smile at her. “What’s new with you?” Natasha walks in, grinning at you from across your desk. “Actually, you should ask what’s new with us. Specifically, the fact that we are both going to that one bar that opened up recently. It’s just a couple of blocks down- the Amber Cup or something?  Anyways, we’re going to go and we’re going to have a great time.”

You laugh quietly. “You know, when people try to make plans with me they usually ask first. Do I have a choice in this?” “Absolutely not. We’re going.” Nat says, and you stand up, stretching your legs. “Sounds good. I’ll be there.” There’s another knock at your door, and you look over to see Pietro standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe. You smile and wave him in, doing your best to keep your heart rate under control.

Pietro walks over to you, eyes brightening when he realizes that you were leaving your desk. “Have you finished your work? Good. I wanted to see if you might be interested in joining me and other friends at that new bar later tonight. I’d love to see you there.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “I already asked, but good try. She’s going.” Pietro tosses a mock frown her way. “Do you always have to ruin my attempts to ask people out?” Natasha grins, making her way towards the door. “Only when they’re my best friends.”

At times like this, you’re not sure whether or not you’re happy that Natasha made it here first. If Pietro had asked you when you were alone, you’re not sure you could have pulled yourself together long enough to give a seemingly unconcerned response.

Pietro feels like he’s about to kill Natasha. He was minutes away from asking Y/N out. Seconds, even. He’s never been slow for anything but yet on the most important event of his life, Nat managed to beat him to Y/N’s office. He can’t stand it.

The bar itself is modern and somewhat large. Pietro and his friends arrive later at night, grateful for the rush of people already crammed together on the dance floor. Large crowds make it easier to go out undetected, and being noticed for your Avenger status tends to draw either enemies or crazed followers. Neither is really what Pietro’s going for right now.

Pietro’s just mulling over a drink when someone slides into the space next to him on the bar. He turns with a start when he realizes it’s Y/N. He promised himself that he wasn’t going to stare, but Y/N looks absolutely gorgeous. Maybe it’s the drink already in his hand, alcohol already lighting fire to the back of his throat, but Pietro is certain that Y/N could outshine every single girl in this club. Maybe even all of New York.

They talk for a little while, and then Y/N disappears to go find Natasha. Pietro tries not to feel disappointed at her sudden absence, and allows himself to get distracted by the blonde woman in the too-short dress who quickly takes Y/N’s spot. However, his gaze keeps flickering back to one agent in particular, no matter what he does. Pietro’s heart seems to clench when he realizes she’s taken to the dance floor, paired up with some man with dark hair gelled back slightly in a more modern look. 

As he watches, the man’s hands drift to her hips. Pietro has no right to feel angry or anything, he knows that, but there’s a definite bitter taste in his mouth that wasn’t there before. He should turn away and go back to the half-empty glass in front of him, but Pietro’s already had more than enough to drink. Instead, he can’t seem to let go of the sight in front of him.

Pietro has a feeling that he’s about to do something he shouldn’t, that his feelings are finally going to get the best of him. He isn’t sure that he minds.

You spend more time than you should on your hair and makeup and outfit, checking and double checking to make sure the heels match the dress and the accessories. You don’t get to go out and have fun that often due to your busy schedule, so you intend to take full advantage of tonight. Besides, if Pietro is there it won’t exactly hurt to look good. You know you’re just fooling yourself into thinking he’ll notice you, but what if he does? He did show up to ask you to the bar, didn’t he?

You end up arriving a little later than the rest of the group due to traffic, but your eye instantly catches on Pietro. He’s talking and laughing with friends, and turns aside to order a drink from a bartender. You take advantage of his break from conversation to slip into the place beside him. He greets you casually, and you order a drink for yourself before heading over to find Natasha. He was just in the middle of talking to people, right? He probably doesn’t want you to stay for that long.

This seems to be true- you’ve barely been next to Natasha for a couple of minutes when you see that someone else has taken your place next to Pietro. It’s some beautiful blonde woman, who makes Pietro laugh with just a few brief words. You can’t help but feel an overwhelming wave of sadness wash over you at the sight. How could you think you were enough for him, especially compared to her?

You must still be feeling the aftereffects of a couple of drinks and that sight, because you head to the center of the room, intending to dance your worries away and at least attempt to have a good time. You’re joined by a dark-haired man soon after, and you pretend not to notice when his hands wrap around your hips, dipping lower by the second. Why bother? At least now you can try to move on from Pietro, to act like he can be replaced by another man in a blink of an eye. It’s not true, but at least the pounding music distracts you from him.

Suddenly, your partner is ripped away from you. You’re left standing on the dance floor, blinking in confusion at the sudden empty space in front of you. When you look up, your brow furrows to find Pietro, still standing in between you and the dark-haired man from where he’d pushed your partner away. The man glares at Pietro. “Hey, what was that for?” Pietro returns his gaze coolly. “Don’t touch her like that. She deserves some respect.”

Then he turns back to you, and a thousand emotions seem to flicker through his eyes before he walks away, headed towards an exit out back. Your confusion is quickly replaced by anger. Why does he think he can just walk up and control you like that? You mutter a brief apology to your dance partner before storming after Pietro. Eventually, you find him outside, taking in the crisp air of the outside street. He looks up when you open the door, but he seems confused by your angry expression. You don’t give him time to ask what is wrong.

“What was that?” You ask, gesturing loosely towards the bar behind you. Pietro looks away from you, back at the crowded streets. “He shouldn’t have been putting his hands on you like that. He was a creep.” You laugh bitterly. “That wasn’t your call to make. Can’t I have this one night, this one hour to myself? I mean, you rub it in my face practically every day. Did you really have to take this one dance away from me?”

Pietro frowns at you. “What are you talking about?” You look at him in disbelief. “Are you really pretending you don’t know? I see you around the building all the time, flirting with any girl that crosses your path. I don’t know why I thought I was different, but I figured I deserved at least a little respect. I mean, first you don’t talk to me unless you have to, then you pull some stunt like pretending to ask me out to the bar. You want to play with my heart? Fine, but at least let me have this one night.”

Your hand flies to your mouth. Did you really just say all that? You must have drunk more than you’d thought. Pietro is just staring at you, shocked, and you start to back away. “I didn’t mean- I didn’t-” Then he’s standing in front of you, one hand pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you. He leans back, looking at you with something almost like disbelief. “I’m not trying to play with your heart, Y/N. I’m trying to avoid breaking mine.”

Your eyes widen. “You-” He nods. “I love you. I just assumed that you wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so I tried to play it off like it didn’t matter.” You shake your head slowly. “Why wouldn’t I want anything to do with you? You’re the Avenger, I’m the agent. I thought you didn’t even have the time to talk to me.” Pietro laughs quietly. “Ever since the moment I saw you, I thought you were the most amazing person on the planet. Everything you did seemed flawless, and every impossible task seemed easy. And who was I to you, some guy whose only skill was running fast?”

You feel an incredulous smile slipping across your face. “You were incredible. That’s who you were to me. I was hopelessly in love with you. Still am, and I don’t think I can do anything about that.” “Don’t. I like the idea of you loving me.” Pietro says, and he leans forward to kiss you one more time.

Maybe things have a way of working out after all.

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff imagines #pietro maximoff oneshot #quicksilver #quicksilver imagine #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver imagines #quicksilver oneshot #pietro #pietro imagine #pietro x reader #pietro imagines #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagines #avengers oneshot

[babylooneytoonz]

The Vessel [Pt. 3]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader

Summary: While you are trying to figure out why the Witcher is so abhorrent towards you, he finally gives you a hint as to why he doesn't like you. Also, you realize something— Yennefer and her spells can never go wrong.

Warnings: Geralt being a dick is what.

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

It had been weeks since you slept with Geralt of Rivia, but you hadn't been feeling any different. If it were up to you to say, you would say that Yennefer's plan didn't work— although you couldn't muster the courage to ask her directly if it did.

What made you so sure that the plan hadn't worked was the fact that Geralt and Yennefer had been fighting about something since a few nights and you could feel the strain in their relationship starting to show up. This hunch that you had only strengthened when one day, you unknowingly stumbled upon an argument between the Witcher and the Mage.

It was almost a week after that night on the Great Mount. Geralt had been indifferent towards you since then— not even bothering to spare a glance in your direction when the four of you were in the same proximity.

You were now back at Redania— your home, but so were Yennefer , Geralt and Jaskier— staying at your place like unwanted guests who were exceeding their stay.

Jaskier held two heavy logs in either of his arms, while your own hands were stuffed with the eggs from your coop, that you were intending to cook up for dinner tonight, when you heard shouting from one of the rooms upstairs.

"It was you that said that the plan would work. It didn't work, clearly."

You could recognize Geralt's voice from afar; broody, low and devoid of any emotion.

"Aren't you going to go check in on them?" You turned towards Jaskier and frowned, your eyes shooting upwards, fixing on the topmost stair before you withdrew it and fixed it on him again.

"Me? Stuck between a broody Witcher and a scary Witch? God save my poor soul then." Jaskier commented back as he placed the logs by the fireplace and began to light it.

"Jaskier—" You couldn't help but smile at him, as you placed the eggs on the table and blinked, turning towards him, "Yennefer isn't a witch, she is a mage. Besides—"

Before you could complete your sentence, Yennefer's shaky voice reached the both of you, and you couldn't help but wonder what was actually going on between the two of them.

"I don't understand what's gotten into you, Geralt. These things take time. Why won't you let the spell take it's due course?"

"Yen, your spell failed. It's high time you realize that."

You shook your head to yourself as you busied yourself with trying to prepare the stew for dinner, but your ears were fixed on them.

"You don't question my spells, Witcher. I know what I'm doing. Besides— now to come to think of it, did you even fuck her right?"

Jaskier couldn't help but snort, but when he looked at how red you suddenly were, he immediately masked his expressions as he propped himself next to you.

"Did he, [Y/N]?"

"Jaskier, I'm not having this conversation with you," You shook your head at him, exasperated that he was still bugging you with this question, "Now can you please help me out? I need help with the stew, Jas'." Jaskier stood up, whistling to himself as he fixed himself next to the pot, stirring it while you began working on getting the bread ready when the door above slammed shut and heavy footsteps began descending down the stairs. Both you and Jaskier turned to see a very annoyed Yennefer walk towards the front door, without her Witcher in tow, just like he already was.

"I've got some business to attend to in Novigrad, Jaskier." She pointedly ignored you, and you couldn't help but bite back the words threatening to spill out of your mouth. Living under your roof, she was behaving like you were an outsider. Secretly, you were thrilled that she was leaving , even though it was for a short while.

You watched, through the window as a portal suddenly emerged just outside of your barn, and she disappeared through it, leaving you and Jaskier gawking at each other, Jaskier finally speaking, "I say, trouble in paradise?"

"It's none of your concern, Jaskier. You really need to stop meddling with other people's businesses. Now would you be kind enough and go ask your friend to come down? Dinner's almost read—"

"Jaskier, come on now. We're leaving." Geralt cut you off as he finally appeared, all dressed in his tunic and breeches, his sword peeking out from behind him. You parted your lips, ready to ask him where he was off to but it was like he had already anticipated that this was going to come, so finally he looked at you, but with the same indifference with which he had treated you so far.

"It's time we move on. Keep the coin. Seems like Yennefer's plan failed after all—"

The sheer coldness in his voice stung you like a thorn but you didn't let him realize that. Slowly, you lifted the cloth, wiping your hands with it, trying to act just as indifferent towards him— even though you felt like you had been betrayed, which you mentally cursed yourself for.

This was going to happen one day or the other— and wasn't it better that they were finally going to be out of your life now? And not later when they would mercilessly pull your babe away from a mother's breast and call it their own?

"Where are we going, Geralt? We can atleast stay for dinner, a man needs to eat—"

"We will roast a deer on our way, Jaskier." Geralt's irritation was evident from his tone, so the bard turned towards you, choosing now to ignore the Witcher with a sulk on his face.

"Oh Jaskier," you whispered, softly, "Don't you worry. I'll quickly pack some food for you, for the way."

"Oh hush, woman, don't go so soft on me, I would want to switch the roles with that broody gentleman over there."

Your cheeks suddenly felt like they were on fire; and you were sure you had turned a tomato red. You instinctively looked away, quickly finding yourself a distraction at the table as you began packing some bread and ham in a cloth satchel for him to take along with him— fighting back the smile that craved to break out.

"Jaskier, you are free to stay here for as long as you want, the minute I get on Roach, I leave," grumbling, the White Wolf slammed the front door shut as he walked off, your eyes suddenly widening, as the smile was quickly replaced by a lingering hurt upon listening to his words. Why did he hate you so much? Was it because you couldn't give him— them— the child they so desperately wanted?

"Okay thank you for the dinner, and don't, like DO NOT mind him, he has always been a grumpy ham."

Jaskier took the satchel, flinging it over his shoulder, whilst at the same time grabbed his lute and immediately darted out, and by that time, the Witcher was already trotting towards the main path. You fixed yourself by the front door, watching the poor bard struggle to catch up with him and once the two of them were out of sight, you went back inside.

If there was anything that turned a bright way for you after the three of them stepped out of your life for good was the fact that you had enough coin on you now to last for atleast a year. You bought three new goats so you could milk them and sell the milk in the village, along with the eggs.

But the void remained—

The night's were the most difficult, because there were nights when you woke up to a dream where a certain white haired, amber eyed man was laying in bed with you, his thick palm resting on your waist, your back pressed against him as he spooned you.

Maybe it was because you couldn't sleep that night too, that you did not miss the strangled groan that you heard from outside your window. You forced yourself to sit up, rubbing your eyes as you leaned over the window to look out but you couldn't see anything. Just then, someone began pounding on your front door, startling you.

It didn't take you long to run down the stairs, still dressed in your chemise, your arms wrapped around your arms as the knocking became frantic and urgent. When you opened the door, you felt like someone had kneed you in the gut—

"Jaskier?" The bard looked a mess, his clothes were bloody and dirty, his hair slick and sticking to his face.

"I didn't know who else to go to nearby. Geralt needs—" Jaskier began, and the two of you turned towards Roach. Geralt was although perched atop, he was now arching forward, his body almost limp, his head resting against the saddle.

"What happened, Jaskier?" You ran out towards Roach, who whinnied at you, perhaps having sensed that something was wrong with her owner. You placed your palm on Geralt's shoulder, but the minute your palm came in contact with him, he grunted and looked up, and you saw how weak and pale he looked, "I told J-Jaskier — I'm f-fine.. Jaskier.. Jaskier..fuck.. Novigrad.. I asked you to take us to ... Novigrad."

Geralt of Rivia was injured, the flesh on his side had almost been ripped apart by what looked like claws, and yet he was being a stubborn pig. You grabbed him by the fabric of his tunic, balling the fabric as you began literally dragging him off the horse, paying no heed to his annoying murmurs.

"Jaskier, can you help? I alone cannot get him off, you know?"

Helping Geralt walk into your home was a difficult task but somehow, you and Jaskier convinced Geralt to do it. You sat the very injured Geralt by the fire and knelt down in between the space of his legs, using gentle fingers as you rolled up the torn fabric of the tunic. He hissed when your fingers came in contact with his clawed flesh and that's when you saw how massive the claw marks were.

"Who did that to him, Jaskier?" You let go off the big man as you stood up, your hands now caked in Geralt's blood. You ran up to one of the wooden racks that stood by the fireplace with a dozen glass bottles on it. You grabbed the mortar and pestle, placing it on the table in front of you, as Jaskier lowered himself on a chair, now wiping the blood off his face with a washcloth.

"I swear you should have seen it, it was the tallest harpy I have ever seen— well technically, it's the first harpy I've ever seen," he mumbled, and you couldn't help but give him a weak smile as you began to look for the ingredients to make a paste for Geralt's wounds.

"What are you looking for?" Jaskier asked, intrigued, as he watched you fiddle with the glass containers.

"Turmeric, Jaskier. It will stop his bleeding, although had he been human, that injury would have killed him— instantly," you pointedly stared at Jaskier, and he gulped nervously when your words finally registered into the back of his mind. You quickly turned away, resuming your search for the other ingredients. You pulled out two containers; one with lotus petals and the other one containing chamomile, placing it on the table, next to the mortar and pestle.

"Jaskier, while I prepare the paste, can you get Geralt to lie down by the fire? And take off his—" You pointed towards his tunic that was already ripped apart, hanging loosely by his side. Jaskier immediately nodded, getting to work.

You knelt down next to Geralt. His eyes were open, but his face was sweaty and his breathing was uneven; his lips tightly pressed together as he stared at the fire. Your fingers delicately moved over the gashes on his side, and he didn't flinch as much now.

"Can you sit up, Geralt? I need to bandage your waist."

That's when he turned towards you, regarding you briefly as he grunted, pushing himself up slightly and you quickly bandaged his wound with a cloth, securely tying it around his waist before he fell back against the makeshift bedding you had created for him by the fireplace.

You were finally done tending to the man's wounds so you stood up, moving to wash your hands by the sink, when Geralt's voice reached you, startling you.

"I told Jaskier not to bother you. Yennefer could have fixed this."

Your head sharply turned towards him, and you parted your lips, but it was as if your words were lodged to your throat, refusing to come out.

"You can't put all the blame on Jaskier. He could have left you to rot, stolen your mare and left, but he stuck around to ensure you were brought back to safety. You need to learn to swallow that thick ego of yours and give the bard some credit," you intentionally chose not to talk of Yennefer.

He grunted in response, shifting slightly so he could get comfortable, his body tilted at an angle towards the fire that you could see more of his back— full of old scars— this one will be adding to it soon.

"Are you a healer?"

His question pulled you off track.

You shook your head, wiping your hands with a clean cloth, reaching out for one of the blankets that you had stored for yourself as a winter supply, placing it over Geralt's legs— with half a mind that you will have to fight him for this act too— but much to your surprise, Geralt of Rivia accepted the blanket, pulling it over his chest.

"No, not a healer, just a woman with a passion to know things. You see, living alone you need to know certain things as you never know what life is going to throw your way."

"Hm," he fell quiet, and all the two of you could now listen to were the embers erupting from the fire.

The next few minutes, Geralt was quiet, so assuming that he had fallen asleep, just like the bard had; already snoring away to glory, you pulled your chair closer to the fireplace, lowering yourself against it as you began working on another blanket for Jaskier.

"You should have said no."

Startled to hear the low broody voice again, you looked up but this time found Geralt sitting on the makeshift bedding, the pads of his feet resting against the floor, his back turned towards the fire but his face turned towards you.

"Geralt, you should lie down—"

"You should have said no to Yennefer, but you agreed although you knew what she wanted to make you do."

"Says the man who makes a living slaying monsters. Would you say no to a good bounty if that meant being paid enough to last you a year?" You snapped at him, not meeting his gaze.

"You needed coin, there were thousand other ways to do it."

"Like what, Geralt? Don't you think I tried all these ways you are talking about?" The half done blanket now lay forgotten at your feet, and you were standing, towering over Geralt, your lips trembling with rage. How dare he?

"There are many brothels in Redania that I know of that would have gladly taken you in."

"You know what, Witcher?" You spat, "I'm NOT having this conversation with you. I don't like you anymore than you like me, so there's no point in even speaking. Once you are well enough, I would gladly have you out of my home."

You turned away from him, and then blinked, for you couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, as a thick chunk of a tear rolled down your cheek. Swallowing bitterly, you began climbing up the stairs, rather loudly, when Geralt mumbled, "You won't see us when you wake up tomorrow, don't worry."

Ignoring him, you reached the topmost stair, but when Jaskier began speaking to Geralt in a low voice, you couldn't help but pause, inching your ear towards them so you could listen to what they were saying.

"Why do you insist on being like that with her, Geralt?"

Jaskier's words were followed by what sounded like a bitter laugh, and a cough.

"I knew you were awake. I wondered why you didn't jump in to defend her like you always do, Jaskier."

"That is not the point, Ger—"

"If you must know why I can't stop being the way I am around her is because every single time I see her, I'm reminded of the false hope that Yennefer gave me, Witchers are sterile, and that's how it is, I should have known than to fall into Yennefer's words."

He was hating for you something you hadn't even done. You gave him hope, or Yennefer did?

You would have stood there and continued listening to what more he had to say, but you couldn't help it— your face turning sour, when sudden nausea hit you. Your palm instinctively flew up to your lip; making you almost double over and your eyes lifted up, scanning the area for anything you could use to relieve yourself. Grabbing an empty basket that lay close by, you fell down on your knees, your knees scraping against the wood of your flooring and you began wretching out the contents of your stomach, sweat trickling down your forehead as dread filled you up. You were scared that Yennefer's spell had worked. Your palm flew to your flat belly and you pursed your lips together, blinking away the tears and wiping the corner of your lips.

Now that you had wished for the spell to fail, it had perhaps, worked. Maybe things weren't destined to go about the way you wanted them to— all you wanted was to watch Geralt of Rivia leave you alone for good and never come back [Wishful thinking]. But if, the spell had worked, it meant that you were probably carrying his Witcher baby, and that meant, you will have to see more of the white haired man with amber eyes, whether you liked it, or not.

The Vessel Taglist:

@kawennote09 @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @pterodactylterrace @singeramg @historianwithaheart @ayamenimthiriel @crazynocturnalkiki @xxxkatxo @coffeebreathy @miss-emilia-cavill @little-jana @auds24 [I don't know why Tumblr won't let me tag you! 🙄]

Want to be tagged to my list? Please do let me know via Ask, Message box or via a comment. Thanks! 💗

#geralt of rivia works #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher #henry cavill #henry cavill x y/n

[nothingtolosebutweight]

Don't turn your back on me: No More

Part 2 for the 'Oneshot' Lovely Kiss under the Rain, that suddenly became a 4-Part story.

Pairing: Heahmund x Ivar

Words: ~5000 (AO3)

Summary: Ivar's outbursts have gotten worse and Heahmund has to make a decision to protect himself.

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Alcohol abuse, Domestic violence, Heahmund just has to go through some shit, Ivar is the bad guy here

@jackson--t ♥ @youbloodymadgenius @dini73 @istorkyou (as always, if you want to be tagged or un-tagged, just say something)

He was devastated. It wasn't the kind of despair that makes people rage with frustration, that makes them scream in fury. He was not like Ivar. Heahmund was the one who suffered in silence. A numbness had taken hold of him, had slowly consumed him completely over the course of the last few months until there was not a single spark of joy left in him.

Even hope had left him at this point. The hope that something would change, that the dark clouds above him would finally disperse, but the sun, whose warming rays he so longed for, did not bother to show itself.

Heahmund sat on the edge of the bed and let his gaze wander unfocused through the spacious bedroom. He was stalling. Every now and then, his eyes fell on his packed luggage, which stood ready to leave in front of the larger of the two closets. It reminded him of the decision he had made. The one he didn't want to postpone any longer - and did it anyway.

He had finished packing an hour ago, in a kind of haste, because he felt he had to hurry. He feared he wouldn't have as much time as he thought, but having already moved several boxes into his car until only the last two suitcases remained, he now just sat there staring into space, probably hoping that something would happen to dissuade him from his decision, that he could find another solution. He hoped for a miracle that he knew would not happen, and besides, he hesitated, because his weak side, the one that clung to the feeling called love, didn't want to go, was rather afraid of this step, but deep down he knew it was the right thing to do. He just needed a few more minutes until he felt ready to leave all this behind. Their home. Their little nest of love.

Love. It was such a small and insignificant word, and yet it was such a tremendous feeling that carried so much power. It could enrich one's world so much that one felt drunk with happiness. Love can move mountains, they say, but they also say that you can be blinded by it, and in his case, Heahmund thought bitterly to himself, it was the reason why he had lost himself completely. Love had robbed him of his dignity, his passion for life and his ability to recognize what was right and wrong.

The whiskey glass he held in his hand proved it to him anew. Lost in thought, he swirled the amber liquid back and forth before bringing the glass to his lips, taking another sip. The slight burning in his throat gave him a certain soothing sensation that he had come to appreciate, and the alcohol spread the feeling of inner warmth throughout his body. A feeling that once could be produced by love alone. Now he needed the whiskey to help him with that.

The half-empty bottle on the nightstand testified to the fact that he had already needed a lot of it today to calm his nerves and not to break down. Especially today, he needed his new best friend the most to get through the day, to get through it.

Alcohol was helping him to better bear his inner emptiness. He needed it to feel like he was filling up with something that made him feel good. At least for a short time. Whiskey had become a kind of blanket for him to snuggle under. It kept him warm. It pushed away the bad feelings that he didn't want to let get out because he didn't want to endure them any longer. It protected him from being destroyed by them, just as a blanket protects one from monsters lurking outside the bed. Under its influence, Heahmund felt safe.

Sighing in resignation, as if the whole weight of the world rested on his shoulders, Heahmund finally stood up, emptied his glass in one go, and immediately poured himself another. Forgotten was the fact that he had to drive off in a few minutes. It may not have been the weight of the whole world that he had to carry, but it was the weight of his world. The one he was about to destroy, which already had a gaping crack in the middle, the edges of which were so sharp that he was hurting himself more every day.

Four steps were enough and Heahmund had bridged the distance to the large white closet, where he was inevitably confronted with his own reflection staring back at him through one of the large mirrors attached to one of the closet doors. The dark spot on his cheek literally laughed at him and he had to close his eyes for a moment. The shame he felt about it was too great. The mark should have never been allowed to appear and it had destroyed the last fragile sprout of hope in him. With the emergence of this blemish, the hope of recovery was forcibly torn from the nurturing base he had desperately tried to keep alive. Rotten earth was now the only thing left in his heart, providing a breeding ground of despair for the worms to feast on which seemed to crawl deeper and deeper into him.

A week ago he had decided that he couldn't go on like this anymore, that this mark - a bruise - was the last straw that broke the camel's back, or in other words, that had broken his will to keep fighting for the continuation of his relationship with Ivar. Ivar Lothbrok. The boy who had come into his life like a thunderstorm. The one who had captured his heart in an instant, held it hostage ever since, and with whom he shared such a deep connection that Heahmund had believed he would fight until his last breath for the bond they were sharing. But maybe one didn't have to physically die first to feel as if one were dead. Perhaps on that fateful evening a week ago, he had taken his last breath for this chapter of his life, and now was the time to admit that and, most importantly, to finally stand up for himself.

Heahmund's eyes searched his reflection once more, his fingertips ran carefully over the bruised spot on his cheek, and memories of the evening, but also of the time before, since the direction in which their relationship had drifted had become more and more borderline, rolled over him. As it had so many times in the last few days. It haunted him because he had the feeling that he himself had failed the most.

Normally, he was the rock in the storm, the reasonable guy. The one who usually always had a solution for everything. He was the adult who stood with both feet firmly in life. He led an entire team in his job just perfectly, had the right advice for everyone and everything, and in the area where he needed a working solution the most, he couldn't find one. And now he was going to give up, too. Although it would break him even more. He knew there was a more painful time ahead, but in clearer moments he had convinced himself that it could also be seen as some kind of strength. Maybe it was true and it could actually be called strength to leave the person you loved the most behind to save yourself, or maybe he just needed a more or less convincing excuse to justify his plan to himself. To not feel as terrible as he was feeling at that moment, because he knew it wouldn't just throw him off track. It would ruin Ivar as well.

Heahmund had known from the beginning that Ivar was not always easy to deal with, that he had deeper problems that had eaten firmly into his soul. Nevertheless, he had fallen head over heels in love with him more than three years ago, despite their age difference, and he would never bring himself to say that he regretted his decision to start a romantic relationship with him, because that was not true. Despite the circumstances, he wouldn't want to miss these last few years. He only wished he could have handled things better, maybe even loved Ivar better, if that would have been possible at all. If he had been stronger, he might have been able to help his boyfriend. He couldn't imagine life without it, and the fact that he had to do it sent a new wave of inner pain through his chest, making him exhale shakily after swallowing another mouthful of burning amber.

Even in the rosy times at the beginning of their relationship, Heahmund had observed that Ivar was not in control of his emotions, that he too often went off the rails unnecessarily, that he could not control himself once he got upset. At first he had only seen it in relation to his brothers, especially Sigurd, and even found it a bit cute how Ivar could get upset about the smallest things. One wrong word, one slightly too biting remark, and there was no stopping Ivar firing back insults that were many times more hurtful than the actual trigger had been. Later he had realized that it was a kind of self-protection for his beloved. When he attacked most violently, the others had no chance to hurt him further.

It was no longer so cute as this behavior slowly started to enter between the two of them as well. As first disputes emerged, which under normal circumstances could have been solved quickly. But not with Ivar. There were no normal arguments with the youngest of the Lothbrok family. There was only combat. Verbally at first, and sometimes Heahmund had struggled with that, too. Words could also cut deep, leaving invisible scars that only flickered beneath the surface and merely made themselves felt from time to time, but he had quickly learned to deal with it, not to take it too personally. So there was no reason for him not to ask Ivar if he wanted to move in with him, and the joy that this simple question had triggered in the young man made the hint of a smile appear on Heahmund's lips at the memory of it - even now, when he didn't feel like smiling at all.

If Heahmund were to review the first time they lived together, he would say that the first six months were their happiest. Ivar felt like he belonged, he literally blossomed. They spent a lot of time together, and everything seemed harmonious and balanced. Only gradually, and as always with something like this, in small, creeping steps, everything had changed, when everyday life had taken possession of them and old habits had reasserted themselves. More and more small quarrels had flared up. Ivar had let his inner demon crawl to the surface to take command, at first infrequently, then every other day, and finally almost daily. Always with a tearful apology afterwards.

Of course, sometimes he had felt that he had grown tired of the constantly recurring pattern, that he lacked the feeling that something was improving despite Ivar's promising words, but he would have continued to overlook it with ease and a clear conscience. Had always done so until now, for the sake of love. The same love he still felt deeply despite everything. Even now, standing next to packed suitcases.

Now he could no longer ignore it. The whole situation had taken a turn that demanded too much of him. He didn't want to bend anymore, didn't want to give up the last remnant of his self, of his dignity. Heahmund did not want to fade away and become a shadow of himself, like the empty shell he was confronted with in the mirror. He had already let it get to the point where his own reflection had begun to frighten him. Empty, tired-looking eyes with dark circles, lips that had forgotten what a smile from the heart felt like, and a lifeless expression that conveyed painfully well just how it looked inside him.

Heahmund could still remember the first situation when Ivar's hand had almost slipped during an argument, the first major red flag that he had, of course, ignored in the end as well. He himself had come home late that night, a few days in a row already, and his workload was so heavy at this time that, after a quick kiss, he went straight to his desk to get some more work done. He had his head so full of the chores he still had to do that he had overlooked the small signs of Ivar's discomfort about the whole situation, and he should have known better.

I really should have...maybe everything would have been different then, Heahmund thought to himself anew, as the memory of the evening came to his mind. Even days later, he had inwardly berated himself for not having been more attentive. After all, he knew how sensitive his boyfriend was when it came to rejection. It was one of Ivar's deep-rooted fears and the easiest trigger, and he knew he should have acted more prudently at the time. But Heahmund wasn't perfect either. He, too, made mistakes.

So it came as it had to come. Ivar had snapped. Had given vent to his rage in a hurricane of insults. Ivar had let words gush out of his mouth that had startled the elder and Heahmund barely got a word in edgewise. It was generally not easy for him to find the right words in such heated situations. Those who didn't further poured oil on the fire, and so he had resorted to his time-tested behavior and simply silently endured what was hurled at him after the first attempts to calm the situation with reasonable interjections and attempts at appeasement had failed, as usual.

As a calm and level-headed person, he always tried to remain calm on the outside, so that they wouldn't blow each other up, but when he had seen Ivar's hand movement and, above all, had processed it and had understood what the younger man was up to, he had also felt anger and, above all, disbelief rising up inside him. He had been shocked - and so had Ivar. Heahmund had been able to read the shock about himself in his beloved's face just seconds before Ivar had fled the apartment.

It had started raining that evening, shortly after Ivar had disappeared, and Heahmund had without further ado grabbed an umbrella and had gone looking for him. Forgotten was his workload. His sweetheart was more important to him. He had finally found him completely soaked, freezing and shivering from the cold. Ivar's rage had faded, and they had been able to talk normally, had kissed at the end in the pouring rain as a sign of reconciliation, while thunder and lightning had raged over them like an evil omen.

Back home, Ivar had apologized again in tears. As he had done so many times before. Had vowed to improve. As he had done so many times before. Had admitted his mistake. As he had done so many times before. But he had also taken a first step and tried to communicate what was going on inside him, had tried to explain how he felt. A first step that had made Heahmund hopeful. For him, it was the right step in the direction he wanted them to go. Almost forgotten, therefore, was the fact that this quarrel had almost been the first that had turned violent. Nevertheless, he had warned Ivar that he would not be able to tolerate such behavior.

At the thought, Heahmund puffed with amusement at himself and raised his glass another time. How many times had he endured it since then without drawing the announced consequences? Countless times.

He had made a fool of himself. He, a man in his thirties with a leading role in his job, a man others usually looked up to, who was respected. He had allowed himself to be turned into a punching bag. Where had his self-respect gone?

He had closed his eyes to the bitter truth that his sweet little Ivar had become a tyrant.

After Ivar had crossed the final line one day without facing the threatened consequences, the downward spiral had begun, and Heahmund had allowed it, blinded by love. Over and over again, because those sweet-sounding apologies after each slip kept the fragile seed of hope alive. Only too gladly had he listened to the words he wanted to hear. His broken heart had been so hungry that it had devoured all those sweet-sounding lies, under the guise of promises, without hesitation. Heahmund had lost himself in his wishful thinking that one day things would magically get better, and wasn't Ivar still his sweet little Ivar anyway?

How could he not also see the good in his friend, include the good times much more in his reflections. Heahmund liked to close his eyes to the bad things, but saw the good all the more clearly in return.

Sweet Ivar, who always snuggled up to him in bed, who always needed a little bit of physical contact to fall asleep. His adorable Ivar, who whispered sweet words of affection in his ear every time they hugged and this they did often. Cute Ivar, whose bright smile spread so much warmth in Heahmund's body, whose laughter was a wonderful medicine on gray or stressful days. Caring Ivar, who made him snacks when he had to work late again. The kind Ivar who always remembered to bring him his favorite kind of tea when he went shopping. Who also always immediately thought of him when new varieties of tea came on the market, and who surprised him with little gestures like that almost on a daily basis. To other people these might be simple, insignificant gestures, but to Heahmund they were not. It meant that Ivar cared about him, that he thought about Heahmund even when he was doing boring things like shopping. It was Ivar's way of showing love and affection.

How often had the older man surrendered to these points, clung to them? Lately, more often with a bottle of alcohol as an anchor at his side. Heahmund had believed so much that in time they would be able to overcome their problems, that their love for each other would be strong enough and, above all, the most important thing it would need to help Ivar overcome his inner demons. He had really made a fool of himself - and it annoyed him more every day.

It would not get any better. That had become clear to him. Painfully - underpinned by the actual physical pain caused by the blow to his cheek. At that moment, his heart was completely ripped out of him.

It had happened at Christmas of all times. As usual, they had been invited to Ivar's parents' home to celebrate the feast with them and his four brothers. They had eaten well, had fun, and at the beginning of the day Ivar had been in a good mood, much to the older man's delight, but the more the day progressed, the more Heahmund had not been able to shake off the feeling that something was no longer right. The family seemed not to have noticed, just as they hadn't noticed all these months how much Ivar had changed, how much Heahmund had endured under the boy’s tyranny. In front of them, his beloved behaved quite normally. Only small quarrels with Sigurd, but that was a familiar picture for them all. Also that day, but Heahmund had noticed the small signs. To be honest, he had already begun to fear them.

He had heard it in the tone of Ivar's laughter. So false. He had seen it in his facial expressions, which had been pure acting. A friendly mask to keep up the facade. The look he had kept giving Heahmund when no one else was paying attention to him had been full of reproach, and he had already seen the anger flaring up in those beautiful blue eyes. Only he had no idea what had set it off, and he had caught himself thinking that he was dreading the end of the day. The moment when he would go home with Ivar and be alone with him.

He had drunk particularly much that day. Had covered it up with a cozy get-together at Christmas, accompanied by good red wine. His glass was constantly refilled in the process, discreetly.

Ivar had been jealous. That had been the decisive reason why his initially good mood had changed so much. He had already thrown it at him in the car on the way home. Jealous because of a simple remark Heahmund had made about a female colleague he liked. Purely collegial, of course, but that had no longer gotten through to Ivar, he was already too caught up in his rage. Besides, he had been pissed that he had to drive, since Heahmund apparently couldn't control himself on the subject of alcohol, according to the young man’s accusation. When the apartment door had slammed shut behind them, Heahmund had wanted to disappear into his office with another bottle of red wine and a snide and tired 'Whatever' on his lips to have his peace. This must have been a red flag for Ivar, because he had completely lost it and had started beating the man he loved.

Heahmund couldn't say exactly how many times he had been hit that night. It didn't matter to him, either. He was too numb to worry about it, and the thought that he would probably have accepted the next apology again made him quite ashamed. It revealed to him too clearly the extent to which he had lost his mind.

No. He was ashamed because he had actually forgiven Ivar. Initially. He should have left that very night, but no. They had lain in bed together later, cuddled up to each other. His sweet Ivar in his arms, crying, apologizing. He had avoided looking at him, not wanting to acknowledge the reddish mark on the older man's cheek as proof of what he had done. Instead, more promises had been muttered against his victim's chest or neck. And Heahmund had held him. Had stroked Ivar's back to comfort him. Him. The one who had punched him in the face with his fist just an hour before - without hesitation - because he still loved him so much that he couldn't see Ivar suffering without the inner urge to ease his pain, to be there for him.

Sadly, such situations were equally those that Heahmund enjoyed in a way. They did not argue. It was peaceful between them. Tenderly. Who needed to look closely at how this situation arose in the first place?

He had been so weak. Still was. But later that night, when Ivar was already sleeping peacefully in his arms, as if nothing unusual had happened, and he was still wide awake because of the shock that still had a firm grip on him, he finally realized what he had to do.

It wasn't even the attack itself that had shaken Heahmund up. It was his reaction to the blow. He had fought back. Purely out of reflex, but he had given Ivar a slap in the face that he still couldn't quite process. He still felt the burn on his palm, as if that action had been burned in forever. It was the very first time he had ever hit another human being. Never before had he lost his temper. Neither as a child nor as a pubescent teenager. Heahmund hated physical fights, and the fact that Ivar had driven him to violence even against the person he loved most had shaken him deeply.

What kind of person had he become?

Ivar, too, was more than shocked to realize that he had now been the victim of physical abuse, and his anger had dissipated in an instant, much to Heahmund's relief. He didn't know how it would have turned out if he had fueled his boyfriend's anger even more by his impetuous actions.

With a firm grip, Heahmund grabbed the handle of his larger suitcase, shouldered the lighter bag, and headed for the kitchen. It was time to bury the memories and to move forward. This time he would make sure that Ivar's words, whispered to him through tears of shame and self-pity, came true, that the promise that it would never happen again was kept.

He would break the vicious circle. Once and for all. He would turn his back on this apartment, their shared little cave that hadn't felt like home for quite some time, if he was honest to himself. He could no longer be the adult. The strong one. The one who was always level-headed and focused. The one who had a solution for every problem and kept his arms wide open for moral support. He couldn't do all that anymore. He desperately needed open arms himself that just held him.

Heahmund stopped in front of their dining table, placed his luggage back down and reached for his cell phone. He sent one last message that brought tears to his eyes before opening his phone to remove the SIM card inside and replace it with a new one. He placed the old one on the table as a sort of symbol that he was leaving his old life behind - right next to a letter in which he had bumblingly tried to find the right words to explain himself, to apologize for the way he was now stepping out of Ivar's life. He was just weak, a coward through and through, he couldn't do it any other way. He had to do it secretly behind Ivar's back, because he knew that he could not turn his back on his beloved, if he stood in front of him and begged him to not leave him.

His last message was directed to Ubbe, and he had simply asked him to stay with Ivar today. To accompany him home and not to leave him alone afterwards. He knew that the two of them were just doing the last errands for today's New Year's Eve celebration. He could not write the reason for his request. The words "I'm separating from Ivar, I'm leaving town" were too painful. He could not bear to say them, nor to see them written down. It would seem far too real.

Needless to say, he felt like crap for choosing that exact day for a fresh start. But on the other hand, it also felt right. There was something magical about the turn of the years. That inner urge to leave the old behind, to rearrange one' s life, to stand up and become a better version of oneself. Heahmund was in dire need of this and was determined to take advantage of this magic. It was the perfect timing for him.

His first step on his new path was a stay in a rehab clinic near his hometown in Ireland. He had to get back on track before he could deal with anything else. Like whether or not to terminate their apartment. Technically, it was his, but he would leave it up to Ivar to decide whether to keep it or move out. He would probably also continue to support him financially. After all, he didn't hate him, quite the opposite, but still he would have everything settled through a lawyer or an intermediary to avoid any contact. The fear was too great that otherwise he would give in again. The next thing on his list was his job. He would have to look for a transfer to Ireland or a completely new job. Currently, he had asked for indefinite leave of absence and, after threatening his direct resignation, had gotten it approved because he was too skilled and irreplaceable.

As his gaze fell on his tea collection, his heart instantly contracted, and another wave of guilt rolled over him, accompanied by a worry that threatened to choke his throat.

He was deeply worried about how Ivar would react when he returned to an empty apartment. Ivar would be terribly hurt. It would pull the rug out from under him and would make his worst fear come true again. To be abandoned. And although he had good reasons to be mad at him, to want to see him suffer, he had no desire to hurt him, but he knew that he would inevitably do so by leaving him. He deeply hoped that Ivar's family would be there for him. That they would be able to support him, to offer him a safe hold, just as Heahmund had done in the past.

Feeling the emotions he didn't want to feel threatening to overwhelm him, Heahmund went back into the bedroom, reached for the bottle on the nightstand, and didn't bother to fill a glass first. He drank directly from the bottle because he desperately needed some form of sedation.

A glance at the clock told him that he shouldn't delay any longer now, so he went back to the kitchen and grabbed his luggage again, taking a deep breath and gathering all the decisiveness he could generate.

The sound of the door slamming echoed in the hallway of the apartment complex and made him realize that there was no turning back now. He had left his key inside. What was the point of taking it with him? There was only one direction left for him to go. Towards a new beginning.

Part 3

#heavar #heahmund x ivar #vikings fanfiction #modern au #vikings fanfic #bishop heahmund #ivar the boneless #vikings #ivar lothbrok #fanfiction writers #my writing #my stuff

[thebountyfucker]

In Control

Cad Bane X F!Reader - NSFW, 18+ ONLY Tags: Domination, cock warming, public sex, spanking, PiV sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, Cad Bane's ridiculous accent

(I'm bad at titles leave me alone lol.)

“I don’ like dat one.”

You lowered the dress in your arms with a small frown, before looking it over. You liked this dress quite a bit - the cut flattered you, hugging your curves in all the right ways. The color made you glow, according to your friend. But as you met Cad’s gaze, you realized he wasn’t bluffing. He chewed on his toothpick with a small frown.

“Why not?”

“I just don’ like it.” He kicked his boots up on the foot rest, and gestured toward your closet noncommittally. “Try again.”

You shook your head and hung the dress back up in the closet, before pawing through the other dresses. Cad watched, his head cocked, trying to catch glimpses of the dresses as you pushed them aside. Your hand touched one, and he grunted.

“Dat one.”

You pulled it out from the sea of dresses, and looked it over. Calling it a dress was… generous. Rather, it was a collection of straps that -though it looked fantastic on you- hardly covered the more private parts of your body. You had only worn it once in public and that was a mistake. You looked at the ‘dress’ and then at Cad.

“Are you sure?”

“Are ya questionin’ me?” He cocked a browridge, plucking the toothpick from between his lips. You thought for a moment, wondering if it was wise to defy him, before shaking your head. You had to pick your battles, and this was not one of them.

“No.”

“No…?”

“Sir.” You answered him, and he chuckled.

“Dat’s what I thought.” He leaned back in the chair and waved to you again. “Go ahead. Get dressed.”

You did as he said, slowly shucking off your shirt, aiming to give him a show. You knew that he enjoyed your form, and hoped that the teasing would get him going. You tossed your shirt aside, before pulling down your pants; his blood-red gaze swept downward, following the curves of your body.

“And de panties too.”

“I can’t advise that.” You replied, and he stiffened a bit. “What I mean is… I need panties with the dress or it shows… more than probably appropriate.”

“I said, no panties.” He drawled, gesturing with his toothpick. “It’s in yer best interest t' listen.”

“Of course.” You pulled your panties off, unceremoniously dropping them to the ground. Cad uncrossed his legs and smirked.

“Dere we go. Look at dat pretty cunt.”

You blushed at this and gathered the dress up in your hands. You slowly worked it on, adjusting the straps so they covered as much as they possibly could. You ran your hands along the fabric, almost shyly.

“Dat one looks good.” Cad complimented. “Don’t it?”

“I guess…” You looked at yourself in the mirror, watching the dress ripple and move. “I thought the point was to not have your rivals staring.”

“I don’ mind dem watchin’... I just don’ want yer eyes strayin’. Ya know who you belong to.” He finally stood, sauntering toward you, a devilish grin on his face. He wrapped a hand around your throat, putting no pressure behind his hold. You watched through the mirror as he leaned in and nipped at your ear. “‘Sides, I want dem t' wish dey were me.”

Cad Bane strutting around like a Pantoran peacock was nothing new; he thought rather highly of himself and his abilities, and would take any chance to show off. Having you as a partner only boosted his image, and he was not opposed to using you in this scheme of his. It’s not as though you minded. You rather enjoyed being his trophy, and you didn’t mind the wayward gazes at all.

“Perfect.” He praised as his grip on your neck tightened - it was just hard enough to make your head spin without causing any bruising. You moaned softly and leaned toward him. “Filthy lil whore… ya look good wit’ my hand ‘round yer neck.”

“Your filthy whore.” You whispered, and he chuckled.

“Mine.” He released his grasp on your neck and instead rested a hand on your hip. “Don’tcha forget it.”

He squeezed your soft flesh, before moving away to paw through your jewelry box. You sat at your desk and started styling your hair.

“Are you dressing up?”

“T’ go t' de Silver Serpent? Ain’t no use in doin’ dat.” He muttered as he pulled out a thick leather collar from your jewelry box and looked it over. He approached, and slipped the collar around your neck; he clasped it in place, before running his hands through your hair. “You’ll be a good girl fer me, right?”

“Of course.” You nodded, though that depended on how he treated you in the bar. You were his submissive, sure, but you wouldn’t take shit you didn’t deserve.

“Good.”

-

You liked the Silver Serpent* - it was always full of interesting people with interesting lives. Sometimes, you came without Cad just to make acquaintances. The drinks were decent, and Sal** always had a story if business was slow. But Cad changed the entire atmosphere of your visit; this wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but he demanded much of your attention which left little time to socialize with anyone else. That, and he was the jealous type. He wasn’t about to let you pay attention to someone other than him.

He pushed open the door and gestured for you to enter. You slipped by him, and he grabbed your ass as you went. You rolled your eyes and chuckled, and together you made your way to the bar. Patrons turned their heads as you walked past, mouths agape and eyes wide. Cad made sure to wrap an arm around your waist, telling those who stared that you were his, and his alone.

He led you to the bar and slid up onto the stool - the bar was busy tonight, with most of the booths and bar stools occupied. Cad was sandwiched between a large Trandoshan and a scrawny human man; you stood beside him awkwardly until he patted his lap. You climbed up onto his lap, nestling down against his scrawny thighs. He flagged down Sal, and bought himself a fine, amber whiskey and you, your favorite drink. Sal nodded in understanding, before glancing down at the outfit you were wearing.

“What the hell?” They blinked, before their gaze met Cad’s. They shook their head and went about their business. Cad’s hands went to your waist, digging his knobby fingers into your soft flesh.

“My cock could use some warmin’.” He drawled huskily, and you blushed at the prospect.

“Here?” You glanced around. It was busy enough and loud enough that the people around you might not notice, but you were also sitting shoulder to shoulder with other patrons. One of his hands slid down your hip and slipped up under your dress; you whimpered as his fingers brushed against your pussy.

“Don’ see why not.” His finger probed at your entrance and you whined into your hand.

“Alright.” You nodded, shifting your hips up enough for him to extract his half-hard cock from his pants; he lined the head of his cock up with your pussy, and you sunk down on him, taking him to the hilt. You moaned softly, your cheeks tinged with a soft pink glow, as you fought against rocking your hips and driving his length further into you. No, that was not the objective of this.

He sat there casually, receiving his drink with a nod; Sal slid your drink to you, eyeing you suspiciously, but they didn’t say a word.

Cad slowly hardened in you, stretching your cunt as he did. You bit your lip, trying to contain the moan that threatened to escape. You wriggled against him, reveling in the tiny movements of his cock against your walls. He swallowed his liquor as if he felt nothing - but you knew he could feel it. The heat which radiated from his chest said as much.

Your nipples pebbled against the thin straps containing them, and you were sure you emitted some sort of pheromones because the Trandoshan turned to look at you. He looked you up and down, his long tongue flicking out to wet his maw. Your pussy tightened against Cad’s cock, and you could feel your wetness leaking out around him. Cad’s cock expanded a bit, and he gripped your hips possessively.

“How much for an hour?” The Trandoshan hissed, his gaze trailing down to your pussy. Cad growled in response, and a hand moved to the blaster at his side.

“Ya better watch yer mouth.”

“Easy, easy. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene.” The Trandoshan raised his hands in defeat. Cad’s hand returned to your hip, which he stroked softly with his thumbs.

“Good.” Cad finished his drink and set it aside. You took a shaky sip, trying to hide the fact that you were taking his cock around all these people. Cad leaned down, his hot breath tickling your cheek.

“Yer cunt takes my cock so perfectly.” He whispered, drawing a whine from your lips. Your pussy quivered around him, wanting so desperately for him to start moving. However, you knew that if he did start moving, it would be over for you. You’d cum in front of everyone. “So wet. So wet and tight. Ya wanna cum, don’tcha? You wanna cum, doll?”

You nodded frantically, and he tsked.

“No self-control. Yer a cock-whipped lil' slut, hm? Half de bar can smell yer arousal, doll. Dey know it’s you.” He whispered, and you leaned back against him, whimpering. Your pussy twinged, and he chuckled. “You think dat’s hot, don’tcha? You like makin’ everyone’s cock hard. Filthy lil’ whore.”

Your pussy drooled at this, and you melted back against him. A heat was building in your stomach, and every inch of you was sensitive.

“Cad, please…”

“What was dat, doll? I couldn’t quite hear ya over de music.” He teased, nipping at your ear.

“Cad, please… I need…” You whimpered, trying to avoid the licentious gaze of the Trandoshan beside you. His nostrils flared as he took in your scent. “I need your cock.”

“Ya have it.” He drawled, and you turned to look at him. He was smirking, that smug bastard. How he was able to be in such a teasing mood, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that he was an asshole, and you needed more of him.

“I need you to fuck me!” You whined, a little louder than you wanted to. Cad’s grip on your hips was bruising at this point, and this only added to your arousal.

“So eager.” He hummed as he lifted your hips, and pulled his cock out. Your pussy clenched, painfully empty and dripping wet. Cad eased you off of him, and gestured for you to move out of the way. “Go to de showers. I’ll be right dere.”

You padded through the crowded bar toward a hallway off to the right. A series of bunk rooms and communal showers lined this long hallway, and judging by the number of closed doors, this area of the Silver Serpent was busy too. You slipped into one of the communal shower rooms, noting the roaring of water. You wouldn’t be alone...

You pulled off the strappy dress and gathered it up in your arms. You silently padded toward a private shower stall, slowing down as you passed the public showers. You tried not to stare at the other hunters showering, but their physiques were hard to ignore. That was one of the things you appreciated about bounty hunters - they were fit as hell. And could likely break you over your knee. Gods, your pussy was drooling again…

“What de hell are ya lookin’ at?” Cad growled in your ear, and you jumped, not expecting him to be so near already. You turned, noting that he, too, was naked. More importantly, you noticed the dangerous look in his blood red eyes, and your heart skipped a beat. You struggled to find your tongue. “Dat’s what I thought. Come.”

He led you to a shower cubicle and shoved you inside. You tossed your dress aside, and watched as he dropped his own clothes as well. He approached, his fangs bared.

“Turn 'round.” He commanded, and you faltered.

“W-why?”

“Just do it.” You didn’t, grinning cheekily as he approached you; you gasped as he grabbed your hips and forced you to turn around. He gave you little time to process what was happening before bringing his bony hand down on your ass with enough force to make it sting. You lurched forward, a half-yelp, half-moan escaping your lips. He smacked his hand down on your other asscheek, and you found yourself leaning toward him rather than away. He huffed, and spanked you twice more.

“Ya don’ go lookin’ at others, got it?” He told you through gritted teeth. “Who do ya belong t’?”

“Me.” You answered, pressing your ass toward him. He growled and swatted at your ass again.

“Who?” He asked, gripping your ass cheeks tightly in his hands. “Get it right dis time.”

“You.”

“Good girl.” He purred as he whipped you around so he could look you in the eyes. “Do ya want my cock again?”

“Yes!” You whined and he turned on the shower; the warm water cascaded down your forms as you lifted your leg and wrapped it around his hip. Cad drew his cock up and down, between the sloppy lips of your pussy. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “Please, Cad… please!”

He slipped the head of his cock inside and plunged his entire length deep within, until he bottomed out. The air fled your lungs, and you were left leaning against the wall with your eyes wide and your mouth agape. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut.

“Is dat what you want, doll? Is dat it?” He hissed, grinding his hips against yours. Your head lolled back and you arched toward him, succinctly answering his question. He eased out, and then back in, his pointed head and ridged length massaging your sensitive walls. Each drag of his cock in and out of you drew pants from you, and that warmth sparked deep in the well of your belly again. “Fuck, doll…”

“Does my pussy feel good?” You asked, breath hitching as he picked up his pace, slamming his cock into you deep and rough. You felt your orgasm brimming, but you held back. Not yet. He had just started fucking you!

“Yeah, doll, real good.” He admitted as he leaned down to drag his long tongue against your pebbled nipple. You were both soaked to the bone, but Cad didn’t seem to mind. “Yer my perfect cock sheath.”

“Cad, I’m close.” You admitted and he glanced up, his blood red eyes meeting yours. “Can I cum?”

“Not yet.” He drawled. “You know de rules.”

You whined as he drove up into you, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. You traced down his scarred chest, trying to distract yourself from the molten warmth in your belly. It was damn near unbearable but you’d hold on for him. As if trying to tease you, he reached down, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit; despite trying to stop it, you came undone.

You cried out in pleasure, clamping down around his cock; your legs shook and threatened to give out from beneath you as the molten warmth flowed through your body. Your head was in a different galaxy as you rode the waves of your orgasm.

“I told ya not yet! What are ya, deaf?” He growled as he pulled out and whipped you around; he bent you over, and plunged back into you. “Whaddya have t’ say fer yerself?”

“Sorry, sir.” You whispered, and he brought down his hand on your already sore bottom. You let out a pitiful yelp.

“Fer what?” He asked, spanking your other asscheek.

“For cumming without permission.”

“Louder!”

“I’m sorry, sir!” You cried out. “For cumming without permission!”

“Good girl.” He cooed as he pounded into you, his hands alternating between grabbing your hips and smacking your ass. You grabbed your breasts, desperate to hold onto something; you drew your thumbs over your nipples, whimpering as it sent pleasurable shocks down to your throbbing cunt.

He growled, muttering something likely quite profane in Durese; he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up flush against him. He drew his fangs along your shoulder, and you squirmed in response. It wouldn’t be much longer before he bit down, his fangs piercing your skin, as he came. You bore many scars from the times he bit you… but you loved it. You loved how he claimed you with every fuck. You were his, and you didn’t want it any other way.

His pace grew erratic and sloppy, and you helped out by rocking your hips; his hand shot down to rub circles along your clit, hoping to hasten your second orgasm. His fangs dragged harder across your shoulder, and then, he bit down, cumming deep inside you. You cried out, orgasming alongside him, your pussy milking his cock for all it was worth. Euphoria coursed through you as he lapped up the blood trickling from his new mark.

“There… there we are.” Cad drawled, pulling out of you and handing you the soap. “Clean up. I got somethin’ t’ attend to.”

“What?” You asked as you watched him mop off with a towel.

“It’s just business, doll. Nothin’ important.” He slowly dressed, casting glances over to you as you cleaned up the cum dripping from your sensitive cunt. “I’ll be back fer ya.”

He ducked out of the shower stall without another word. You shook your head with a small smile. Only he would be so intent to attend to business after fucking.

-

*The Silver Serpent: A bar and bunkhouse owned by the Bounty Hunter's Guild. Bounty hunters are allowed to stay there free while on jobs/between jobs. (I don't know if Cad's a part of the Guild. I don't care. He can use it either way lol)

** Sal is the nonbinary Togrutan bartender who sort of runs the place.

Both Sal and The Silver Serpent were introduced here

#cad bane #star wars smut #smut #star wars fanfic #iri writes #my fanfiction

[stygianflood]

Hideaway (Ethan x F!MC)

Summary: As promised, a very canon-divergent version of Ethan’s... dark mood. 3.8; Ethan’s PoV

Words, rating, genre, trope- 1.5k, General, Fluff (but the tone is angsty); hurt/comfort

A/N- It bothered me that Ethan’s demand for consolation was an either-this-or-nothing sort of scenario, when we know the real Ethan Ramsey would never! In this universe Ethan just leaves refusing MC’s offer to help. Much like Book 1 ❤ Also, I really tried to make sense of whatever PB is making Harper do. And there might be an Easter egg near the end.

The amber liquid sloshes down his throat, trickling into the more labyrinthine crevices of his mind, sharp and biting. Somewhere in a sky not veiled by the havoc of civilisation, a forlorn sun pours itself in a steady drip. 

For each of the last fifteen minutes, his finger has been teetering on the brink of a call he knows he’ll make.

I don’t need you to follow me, Aparna. I knew there could be consequences. 

I made my bed... The least I can do is lie in it.

She stood before him, under the lurid new lights of the revamped atrium. Face contorted in worry, and something else he is no longer a stranger to.

That doesn’t mean you have to weather them alone. 

I care about you. Talk to me.

And she looked no older than she did in her first year. 

In those days the atrium housed the trees planted in his intern year, and some even older. And Aparna had implored him to stay. Because the patients needed him. Because she needed him. 

Ethan was not brave enough to admit he needed her more than she would ever need him. That part of them remains pitifully unaltered.

This time however, it’s different from letting her in. It’s about beating the devil at his own game. Wrestling his slippery self on a rock face. 

He wonders what it’s like on the other side of the tunnel. The darker side that the likes of Bloom inhabit. The one that doesn’t have its throat slit by the glare of street lights. More importantly, how do the likes of Dr. Ramsey beat him at his own game and remain unscathed.

He’s being reckless. Dangerously so. But whatever else he might tell himself, he is lonely too.

Cloistered in an apartment that never felt emptier, he can almost hear her terrible joke on fingers of scotch. When did the notoriously single Ethan Ramsey become this dependent he wonders.

After four arduously long rings, he almost disconnects the call.

‘Ethan?’

‘Hey.’

The silence stretches into a long and restless twilight across his windows, and he thinks he ought to ask about her day. She beats him to it.

‘Do you want me to come over?’ 

‘That… That would be nice.’

She definitely rolls her eyes on the other side of the line. 

***

‘Do you ever wish you’d settled for someone… less complicated?’ He avoids her eyes fixing his own on the ceiling. 

The fingers massaging his forehead stall for the briefest quarter of a second before resuming. The slight shift finds his head even more snugly settled in her lap.

He feels stifled by an all-consuming sense of helplessness. And it’s different from the trickiest diagnoses when he knows he’s giving his all and failing. It is a plethora of all that is wrong with the system. The one he has been pitted against all his life, and mostly managed to thwart.

Ethan Ramsey never settles for half-measures. Not when he can help it. And with Bloom, he cannot. 

Not unless he tips the scales in his favour. And it has taken the last morsel of his sanity to plot it.

No loose ends. Or second footprints for that matter. One more ethics hearing and her career would end before it began, and Naveen himself could do nothing about it.

Yet here he is. The irony of it biting, as the one person he needs to protect by all means is the one being implicated. If Harper, one of the most level-headed people he knows-

‘Besides the fact that I’m nowhere close to being settled?’ Aparna interrupts his thoughts from somewhere above him. 

Oh.

‘Sorry, I didn't mean-’ 

Of course she is grinning. Annoyingly smug and utterly distracting. 

He could kiss her senseless and wipe the smirk off those lips. Make her moan right here on the couch. 

He almost does.

‘Did you wish you weren’t involved with someone whose medical license was about to be revoked?’ She asks.

Her fingers rove about his temple, right where he has recently seen specks of silver. And he awaits a joke about his age that never comes.

‘Ethan…’

God, he hopes he doesn’t look that miserable.  

‘I need you to know I’d go anywhere with you. And I mean that-’ She holds his chin to turn his face. ‘I mean that in every sense of the word. Thought you’d know by now.’

She looks strangely composed. 

It could be the immensity of her proclamation. Or the ease with which it has rolled off her tongue. But it alarms him. Not because he isn’t ready, because make no mistake he is. It alarms him because she is doing it again. 

In that moment all of his life could flicker past him like the tedious crackle of an old television set, and he’d still be enraptured by the unwavering intent in her eyes.  

And she looks no older than she did in her first year. 

He raises a hand grazing the softness of her neck. Her cheek. And the corner of her parted lips. 

Come here is all he manages before drawing her face to his own.

He only vaguely remembers the drive back home when he wanted to be in control of his life. He has never felt more disarmed. Or more- he discerns the lump in his throat- in love.

Beads of crimson settle on the horizon, and in the abandoned dregs of his whisky. The natural order of things calls for day and night. Much in the same way it summons droughts and downpour.

And as for him, he’d come undone for her again and again.

***

The stillness of the air is riddled by his own ragged breaths mingling with hers. And the deluge in his mind almost subsides. 

‘Glad that I stayed?’ She props herself on her elbows and lazily smiles down at him.

‘Always.’

She peppers the column of his neck with a final drizzle of kisses before burying one languid hand in his hair and settling against him. Just as the silence is splintered by the buzz on his coffee table.

Thankfully it’s not her pager. Just her phone. And her fingers resume their stroking of his hair.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Pleasantly spent.’ It’s his first genuine smile in hours. ‘But really, several things at once.

‘And I’ll talk to Harper as soon as I can.’

‘I appreciate that, but… I think we need to talk to each other,’ She says. ‘For the team, but also for ourselves. 

‘I need to be able to forgive her. Not today perhaps. But I need to do it.’

He agrees. But he is baffled that Harper should accuse her now. Especially when she was willing to wait for evidence when Aparna had actually breached ethics as an intern.

Is it his tactlessness he wonders, as she loops his arm around herself. Speaking over her inputs, denying the credibility she has earned in the team by sheer hard work. 

Creating the impression that she’s still just an intern with history.

As her breath cools the sheen of sweat on his chest, he instinctively gathers her even closer. And not for the first time that evening, he feels he doesn’t deserve her.

Damage control, the interminable mutterings in his mind suggest. He needs to ensure Harper has not spoken to anyone outside the team. And Tobias has not prattled. Perhaps give Naveen a heads up.

‘Check that,’ He remarks as her phone buzzes again. ‘It could be work.’ 

But just as he is about to disentangle himself to make the calls, he sees them.

Just wanted to check on you. 

Hope you’re not beeting yourself up over it.

Not a saved contact on her phone he realises. But it’s familiar. A little too familiar. He decides against asking.

She shakes her head with a faint half-smile before replacing the phone and curling up to him. She loops an arm about his chest as he strokes rehearsed patterns on her back. 

It’s minutes before they startle the peace.

‘Thank you for being here tonight, Apu,’ He almost whispers. ‘For helping me work through this.'

‘I meant what I said, Ethan,’ She says. ‘I’ll always be there for you. 

‘Even when I don’t agree with you.’

And it’s there again. That frightfully alarming calm on her face every time she promises to leap.

When he takes her bottom lip between his teeth, it’s with the ardour of a disciple who did not just invoke her minutes ago, or this morning, or into the wee hours of the night before. 

‘And I hope,’ He manages breathlessly. ‘I hope I never take that... Take you for granted.’

She doesn’t respond. Except for the immutable glimmer in her eyes. And he knows.

He decides he will call Naveen and Harper once she’s asleep. He’ll not unsettle her. Not when it might never happen. 

‘What happens when we go back out there?’

If he only knew.

‘Let’s get you to bed.’ He smiles, lacing his fingers with hers.

His life has long stopped being the neatly stacked manila folders he’d once sorted it into. For all he knows, it could be dipped and bent in all directions tomorrow. 

But he also knows she will be right there on the promontory with him.

Thank you all for reading this!  A special shout-out to @starrystarrytrouble​ because I had the inspiration to write after ages solely because of our chat ❤

Let me know if you’d want to be added or removed.

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #harper emery #tobias carrick #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #openheartfanfics #cac2021 #choices monthly challenge