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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

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Clarity of Heart.

Yan Shenhe x F Reader. Commissioned piece.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships and manipulation. Word count: 3k.

To Shenhe, you’re an enigma.

She tries to unravel you, and with every impatient tug of her fingers, ends up forming a tighter knot. Why she even wants to understand you is a mystery in itself. Hers is a life of quiet solitude — a fact that’s never troubled her before. One must have companionship to understand loneliness in its absence. Her master imparted this wisdom to her, further complicating matters.

She supposes there’s no sense in agonizing over the unknowable. Ruminating on why the sun rises in the east and sets in the west would similarly be a waste of time. What she does understand, what’s so tangible that she can almost grasp it with her hands, is that she likes when you’re present and dislikes when you aren’t.

You’re strange, she thinks, not that she has much of a touchstone to make comparisons.

You make a yearly pilgrimage to Mt. Aocang to train, yet whenever Shenhe happens by, you stop everything to greet her in kind. You offer to share your limited supply of provisions, giving her the bigger piece when she insists on splitting things in half. It simply doesn’t make sense. If someone interrupted her training, she’d find them irritating; if someone asked to share her food, she’d refuse.

Though she never felt the need to track time before — the concept you referred to as a ‘calendar’ is not in her lexicon — she finds herself in an agreeable mood when the leaves show signs of turning. The cooling of scorching air and shortening of days proceeds your arrival. Without realizing it, she’ll frequent the base of the mountain, eyes scanning the treeline for your familiar figure.

There are days she spends just like that. Noting the changing phases of the moon, wondering if you’ll arrive when it's waxing or waning.

Sometimes she guesses correctly, sometimes she does not. It’s of no consequence. When you appear, everything else is condemned to be forgotten in a veil of fog.

Every year, she comes to associate new mysteries with you.

However, there’s something about this one that she urges her to investigate further.

“Why did you not use your Vision?”

You suddenly grow an interest in the contents of her mortar and pestle. The herbs release a faintly bitter aroma, lingering in the air where your voice normally flourishes. She finishes grinding it into a paste while you look everywhere but her eyes. Without asking for your permission, she lathers the ointment onto your now bruised bicep. You fight back a flinch, a fruitless endeavor, for she notices anyway.

“It isn’t—” you inhale sharply when she brushes over a particularly sensitive spot, your face contorting as you continue, “A particularly fitting campfire story.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, well, it’s popular for people to gather around the campfire and exchange stories. Sometimes they’re scary, but it’s all in good fun. The answer to your question… I can’t say this story’s very fun. Hence why I said it’s not fitting.”

As always, you teach her much about the bizarre customs of those who inhabit the world. She glances to the nearby campfire, to you, then back again.

“Shall I put it out, then?”

You smile, lines forming beneath your eyes while you do so. The fire makes her feel warm, but you make her feel hot.

“It’s okay, there’s no need for that. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you. It has to do with these training trips, actually.”

The pause that follows your words urges Shenhe to respond.

“I’d like to know.”

You gaze up at the stars, your eyes reflecting the brilliant expanse. “A few years ago, I’d been working odd jobs to make ends meet. One of these was a waitressing gig at a fine establishment. At that time, I’d only had my Pyro Vision for a few months… maybe less than that. Since I rarely left Liyue, I hadn’t used it much.”

You hug your knees to your chest.

“There was this drunk customer. He’d been acting flirtatious all evening, but I was just trying to do my job. When it was strictly verbal, I could handle it. I’d dealt with his type before. But… eventually, he reached out and… touched me. I honestly don’t remember much of what happened next. It was warm. I smelled something awful, heard a scream that was even worse.”

The red ropes binding Shenhe’s soul grow taut.

“It was… an event. Turns out the man was a rather important merchant. With a wife and a newborn kid, to make matters worse. The flames had scorched the skin on his hand to the point it was unusable. Had it not been for a friend of mine, Yanfei, I could’ve landed in a lot of trouble. She got him to drop the charges. Still, rumors spread, and people believed what they wanted to believe. It was during that time I met Madame Ping. She offered to tutor me — teach me how to use my Vision, rather than be scared of it.”

Your fingers caress the scarlet gemstone. “That’s why I hesitated earlier. I still have lots of room to improve. Coming out here helps me focus better, though. I don’t know how to explain it. When I see those tall mountains that seemingly go on forever, and am able to reach out and touch the clouds… everything feels right.”

“If you like it here so much, then why do you go back?” Shenhe asks. This question feels important to her, somehow. A riddle that must be solved.

“Liyue Harbor is my home,” you reply without missing a beat. “My master helped me think of it like this: for every painful memory, there’s a memory I cherish to match. I have to go back and remind myself of that. Or else the hurt is all I’ll remember.”

Your posture eases after you finish speaking. Shenhe can tell this philosophy is paramount to you — perhaps even similar to the red ropes that keep her grounded. Everyone arrives at a way to continue forward and this is yours. She glances down at your arm, where a Mitachurl had unexpectedly charged forward and slammed into you.

You had the means to dispatch it, and still, you hesitated. She did not. She hoped your explanation would dispel her confusion, but as is typical with you, she’s left feeling further perplexed. If this is a place that does you good, you should stay. Is returning to Liyue Harbor a type of training for you?

“Thank you again for patching me up. And helping me out earlier,” you give your shoulder an experimental roll. “The way you fight with your polearm is almost magical. I don’t know how you can move like that.”

The praise makes her stomach feel strange, yet it’s far from unpleasant. “I’m glad I was nearby.”

She always is when you’re on Mt. Aocang, but she keeps this detail to herself.

“So am I.”

The wind blows softly through your camp, rustling tree branches and encouraging the fire to crackle. Shenhe’s experienced many nights like this. While she could always appreciate the serene atmosphere, having you present makes it different somehow. It goes from being just another pretty place on the mountain to a slice of paradise. You take the ordinary and turn it into something special, something worthwhile.

“[First].”

“Hm?”

“That man… is he currently alive?”

You shake your head. “He isn’t. As it turns out, he was making shady deals with this group called the Fatui. They aren’t people you want to mess with. No one knows the specifics, but his death was unusual. It wouldn’t be a stretch to assume they did away with him after he no longer held any value.”

“That’s certainly a shame.”

You blink. “It is?”

“Yes,” she shifts her empty stare in the Harbor’s direction. “I would’ve liked to end him myself.”

Shenhe might be dense when it comes to most social courtesies, but even she knows this topic is taboo. Her entire life up until this point has consisted of training to subdue her homicidal urges. From this diligence on her master’s behalf, she came to glean that killing is an act that’s generally discouraged.

For this reason, she almost regrets her lack of tact if not for the sole possibility it could drive you away.

That’s why her eyes widen slightly when you press your hand over hers.

“It’s okay. I get it,” your tone makes it sound like it too. “If I’m being entirely honest, I thought about it before. I used to get angry when my master said I shouldn't throw away my future due to the past. In retrospect, I couldn’t be more grateful for her patience. She wasn’t protecting him, she was protecting me.”

The smile that Shenhe finds more dazzling than starlight works its way onto your face.

“Besides… if I had gone down that path, then who knows, maybe I wouldn’t have met you? That alone makes me confident I made the right decision.”

As far as you’re concerned, Shenhe is nowhere near as enigmatic as the rumors made her out to be.

She has her quirks, that much is undeniable, yet she’s simple at heart. She doesn’t leave you guessing. Mincing words isn’t her style, although it’s not born from malicious intent. To her, it doesn’t make sense why you’d say one thing while thinking another, an element you find refreshing.

You can only recall a single instance where you felt distance from her, despite being physically close.

That instance would be last night.

Judging by the sun’s position in the sky, it should be around noon. Normally, you would’ve seen Shenhe by this point. She prefers to drop by in the morning and then again at night so you can focus on your training. You suppose this ritual was never set in stone, it isn’t like she has to do it. Still, worry gnaws away at your rationality like vermin.

There’s plenty to do to keep your overactive mind occupied. Today marks the last day of this year’s annual Mt. Aocang trip. You pack your belongings up with care, not wanting to desecrate the land that served as your home for the past few weeks. The adepti are generous enough to grant you usage of what’s essentially their abode. The least you can do is ensure everything is returned to how it was.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you survey your work. You’re running out of menial tasks to justify prolonging your stay. Deep down, you know you’re waiting to spot those silvery strands of hair. It occurs to you then that you’ve never been the one to seek Shenhe out. Where would you begin to search and find her? Traversing higher up feels like a violation, that’s where Cloud Retainer lives.

It wouldn’t be right to depart for an entire year without bidding Shenhe farewell. This predicament leaves you with a limited set of options. You could wait, hoping that she might happen by, or you could leave a note. The latter has an impersonal air to it which doesn’t sit well with you. Especially when you have the distinct impression something about last night changed the dynamic of your relationship.

You’re about to sigh for the umpteenth time that day when your ears pick up on distant footsteps. Relief washes over you in waves, you practically trip over yourself to approach the source of the sound. You know it must be Shenhe before you see her. No one else comes up here, it’s more trouble than it’s worth.

Shenhe doesn’t acknowledge your enthusiastic wave, opting to inspect where your camp once was instead. It could be your imagination, but you swear she’s frowning.

She speaks up before you have a chance to greet her, an unusual edge in her voice. “You’re leaving?”

“I’m sorry for not mentioning it sooner. I sorta lost track of the days,” you rub the back of your neck. “But yes, I plan on starting the trip back to Liyue Harbor today. I have commitments to attend to. Otherwise, I would love to stay longer.”

You don’t know why you feel compelled to explain yourself. It isn’t as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t be, yet for whatever reason, that’s what it feels like. The way she fixates on your packed belongings isn’t lost on you. The intent behind her stare is, though. Your closest guess is mild displeasure.

“Then stay,” Shenhe’s response makes it seem so simple. “I’ll help you unpack.”

Without waiting to hear your answer, she makes for the bag that holds your tent, until you block her path. You were aware she could be stubborn when the situation called for it. However, this doesn’t seem like the time or place to charge ahead without paying you any mind.

“Hey, is everything alright? Did I say something that upset you? If I did, please tell me. I don’t want to part on bad terms.”

“We won’t,” she promises. The reassurance does little to make you feel better. “I’m not upset. In fact, I’m quite pleased. The intricacies of understanding others is an art that’s often lost on me. It wasn’t until our discussion last night that things made themselves clear.”

You shift your weight from foot to foot. “And just what became clear to you, exactly?”

“You don’t want to leave, so you don’t have to.”

Your lips part and then close in rapid succession. Did you accidentally drink liquor instead of water this morning? Why is she talking like this is the most obvious revelation in the world? Pursing your lips, you comb the recesses of your mind for any possible statement or action that’d lead her to this conclusion. Misunderstandings always have a starting point. No matter what angle you scrutinize your last interaction from, you can’t fathom how she came to believe what she currently does.

Then again, her thought process differs drastically from yours. You’ve never needed to try

“I’ve learned that people are needlessly confusing,” she approaches you with slow, languid steps. “They’ll want one thing then convince themselves to pursue another. You say you like it here, then offer an excuse when given the opportunity to stay.”

A kindling of frustration flickers to life inside your chest. “That isn’t— I’m not giving excuses.”

She tilts her head. “Then why would you want to return to a place that unfairly condemned you, when you were guilty of nothing?”

No one has ever put it that way — so blunt, so raw — the words are knives that know the perfect place to cut. You swallow thickly. A lump forms in your constricting throat that you thought you’d moved past. She’s in front of you now, looking down at you through snowy eyelashes. She smells faintly of morning dew and herbs. Even in the midst of this bizarre, almost dreamlike experience, there’s a certain serenity to be found. You’re situated in the eye of the storm.

Lithe limbs bring you into an embrace with the utmost gentleness, she takes care not to apply pressure to your healing arm. She treats you as if you were made of porcelain.

“I’ve been told this act provides comfort,” she runs a hand up and down your back, leaving goosebumps behind in her wake. You shiver. “Do you feel comforted, [First]?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Her grip tightens, causing your breath to hitch. “How about now?”

The genuine nature of her inquiry leaves you at a loss. Had it been coming from anyone else, you might think they were mocking you, but this is Shenhe. Her actions are always in good faith, regardless of the quality of their execution. You don’t reciprocate the hug or make an attempt to push her away. For some reason, the idea of shrugging her off instills guilt in you.

An unwelcome little voice whispers you wouldn’t be able to, even if you tried. Her strength is far superior to yours.

You beg the voice to not say anything else.

Shenhe nuzzles her nose into your hair, seemingly forgetting that you have yet to reply. “If a place is full of bitter memories, it’s better to leave it behind, rather than force it to taste sweet.”

“I won’t know until I try,” is your weak rebuttal. It sounded better in your head.

“If you try, you can get hurt again,” Shenhe’s fingers are impossibly cold against your sweltering skin. “So don’t try. Stay. My master has given permission for you to live here with us.”

She parts from you with some reluctance. You watch silently as she rummages through your equipment, putting everything back where it once was. She must’ve memorized how you preferred to set up camp. There’s concentration on her features, she’s intent on ensuring each item is in its proper place. After a few minutes of standing as still as a statue, you lend her a hand.

Your movements are far more sluggish than usual, it’s like there’s an invisible weight crushing you from above.

You test various arguments on your tongue and find them all unsatisfactory. How can you go about convincing Shenhe when you’re not even convinced yourself? For as long as you can remember, you’ve clung to the possibility of righting the wrong, struggling in swimming upstream against rushing currents. Could she be offering you a hand that’d pull you free from dangerous waters?

Or is she dragging you into another uphill battle under the guise of rescue?

From this position, high up in the sky, it’s easy to forget the complexities that inevitably come with regular life. There are no such difficulties here. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay a while longer. No one here looks down on you, whispers when you enter a room, or avoids you on the street. Underhanded comments never reach your ears. You had forgotten how much each of these unfair transgressions stings.

Shenhe reopened the wound — perhaps she has a better way to close it.

Until then, you’ll learn to endure the hurt all over again.

#shenhe x reader #yandere shenhe x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #commissions #my stuff

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vemaro · 1 month

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Do you see your Tav and astarion having kids? Other than callum?

I received this ask ages ago, forgot about it (sorry!), saw it again, and then wrote this.

Does this answer your question; sort of, not really. Is this my roundabout way of answering your question; yep (again, sorry!)

Tav and Astarion one morning, some time in the future …

…

It was a wonderful, dreamless sleep. No nightmares, no unexpected visitors popping in for a chat, nothing but nothingness and Tav couldn’t be happier about it. On another note, her back hurts, her feet ache, and she isn’t pressed against a familiar body. After letting out a long winded yawn, she blindly reaches out, patting the mattress in search of her bedmate. When that endeavor proves fruitless, she pushes herself up onto her elbow, groaning lowly from the effort.

The sound of movement in the room alerts Tav someone’s in the room. “Oh! Well, good morning, darling.”

Ah, there he is. Her eyes flutter open. All prim and proper on a cushioned chair by the bedside sits Astarion. Tav pouts. “What are you doing out of bed already?” she asks.

The vampire snaps his book shut then crosses one leg daintily over the other. “Enjoying the view, of course.”

Tav pushes herself up a little further, switching from laying on her side to sitting up properly. She lets out a small huff when all of the extra weight shifts on her stomach and bladder. A run down to the washroom is imminent. Tav frowns down at the baby bump. Even she has to admit it’s more than a bump these days. Much more. “I’d say there isn’t much to look at, but there is indeed a lot to look at. And then some.”

“Indeed there is,” he agrees with a smirk.

Well, that was an unforeseen low blow. Or maybe she’s overreacting because of hormones. It’s hard to tell these days. Still, he didn’t have to agree.

Surprisingly, Astarion continues to talk. She braces herself. “A face sculpted by the gods. Hair softer than the clouds on a spring day.” He pauses here to lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The smirk melts into something softer, warmer, a loving smile meant only for her. “And who could not be entranced by those eyes of yours? I could stare into them for a century and never grow tired of their sheer depth and beauty.”

However flattered she is, Tav is wholly unprepared for the onslaught of compliments so soon after waking up. Her sleep-addled brain (and heart) can barely function right now. “Ast—Astarion,” she sputters.

He feigns ignorance. “Oh. Need I go on, my love?” Astarion doesn't wait for an answer. “Gladly. Your smile—”

She can’t take it anymore. Tav flops down into the pillows, hiding behind her hands. Though nothing will be able to cover up the massive blush reddening her cheeks. “Oh my gods, stop,” she yelps into her palms. “Stop please before I combust!”

Still pretending to be unaware, the vampire cocks his head, blinking owlishly. “Is something the matter, my sweet?”

“That wasn’t what I meant!”

“Really?” he gasps. Fed up with this act, Tav lowers her hands enough to reveal that she is glaring at him. Astarion scoffs, tossing his book over not the nightstand. “Obviously I knew what you meant, but I won’t tolerate you speaking of yourself in such a manner.”

She’s back to propping herself up on her elbows. “You mean speaking the truth?” she challenges.

“Darling, you are the most beautiful, stunning, and breathtakingly gorgeous person my unworthy eyes have ever feasted upon.” The tiny druid opens her mouth, but Astarion silences her by holding up a finger. “Ah ah, nope. I don’t want to hear it. Your body has changed, yes, that much is true, but that does not negate your unmatched beauty.”

“Unmatched, you say?” she deadpans in a tone flatter than a map of the Sword Coast.

“Yes! Truly unmatched, my love” he says emphatically, throwing his arms out. “You are positively glowing. I dare anyone to deny that.”

Tav rolls her eyes, making a show of crossing her arms and turning away from him. “I’m glowing because that is what orbs do,” she mutters just loud enough for her partner to hear.

A single beat of silence follows. Then …

“Absolutely not,” he bellows, standing up. When she doesn’t make any sort of move, Astarion leans forward, throws off the bed sheets and covers, and then scoops up his beloved, bridal style. “Take it back!”

Tav shrieks. “What the hells, Astarion!’ She throws her arms around his shoulders and neck to keep from falling. “Have you lost your mind? Put me down this instant!”

His blood red eyes stare directly into her wide and surprised pair. “I will not tolerate anyone, anyone, spewing such slanderous words against the woman I love, not even that woman herself!” He punctuates his claim by none too gently adjusting his hold due to her protests and wiggling.

Tav yelps again and grabs a fistful of the front and back of his shirt. “I swear to the gods above, below, and in the middle, Astarion Ancunin, if you drop me—”

That causes the man to throw his head back and bark out a laugh. “Hah! You really believe I’d bring you any harm?”

She tightens her hold around his neck. “What am I supposed to believe with all this?”

He adjusts his grip again, this time pulling her closer. It’s impossible for Tav to look anywhere but straight into his eyes. “You’re supposed to know I’d sooner walk into the sun on my own volition than hurt you in any way,” he says, sounding more serious than he has in a long time. “Especially now that I finally have you by my side.”

And just like that, all of her raging bluster fizzles out. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” The druid looks away, feeling ashamed of her accusation. “I didn’t actually think you’d drop me.”

“I know, my love.” He pecks her on the cheek. “Apology accepted. Will you accept my apology for frightening you?”

Tav copies him by stretching up to kiss him on his cheek. “Apology accepted, Astarion.”

“Promise me something, Tav, dear?”

She has a hunch where this is going. Tav narrows her eyes. “Depends on what it is.”

Astarion puts on a stern expression and it’s a little hard to take it seriously. “No more self-deprecating jabs at yourself. It breaks this vampire’s poor undead heart to think you think yourself so lowly.”

That is exactly what she expected him to say. There’s no point in disappointing him. “Fine,” she sighs. “Only because I’m afraid you’ll begin to wax poetic about my ears or something.”

“Your ears are very cute,” he teases. “And your—”

She shuts him up by placing a finger over his mouth. “Stop it,” Tav commands, yet she’s fighting back giggles. “I cannot handle any more praise from you right now.”

The vampire bows his head slightly and does a sort of curtsy. “I shall humbly accept my small victory.”

A moment of amiable silence passes as they both gaze into each other's eyes, timid smiles worn on their lips. If only they could live in this moment forever. Nothing but just the two of them, together at last, after so many years of miscommunication. “Astarion?” she whispers quietly, scared to break their peaceful bubble.

“Yes, darling?” he whispers back.

Tav reaches one hand and brushes a stray white curl behind his pointed ear. He turns his face toward the hand so she gingerly cups his cheek, slowly brushing her thumb up and down. “I love you.”

Those three little words send a tidal wave of giddiness and joy washing over Astarion. It may not have been easy to get to this point in their relationship, but it was well worth the wait to have the love of his life in his grasp. “And I love you.” His eyes fall to her round middle. “Both of you.”

…

Thanks for reading(: This is a link to the master post

#tav bg3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #dadstarion #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #ask #vemaro

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acupofqueercoffee · 1 year

Text

“Star-crossed”

Siren Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader

ao3 — https://archiveofourown.org/works/39024159

just wanted to save it here too. a little something i wrote for mermay 2022

──────── ･･ ✶ ･･ ────────

The ocean is a beautiful, mysterious place, but the creatures lurking in the darkest depths of the ocean are far more mysterious.

Evil, enchanting creatures that are known to bring men to their downfall.

There are two golden eyes glowing in the dark, visible just above the surface of the ocean, akin to the predatory eyes of a crocodile scrutinising its prey.

Pointy ears half submerged, Alcina listens meticulously — from each flap of a fly’s wings above the ocean to each pop of air bubble beneath the water surface. Her fins and scales alert her to every tiny little movement in the sea.

Somewhere in the safe distance is an outline of an anchored ship. The sharp tips of her ears twitch at the sudden sound of her daughter’s wails, and her lips pull into a snarl — sharp teeth gleaming under the soft, silvery shine of the crescent.

Alcina does not waste another second investigating from afar. Immediately, she dives down, swims directly towards peril without hesitation.

Her daughter needs her.

The closer she gets to the ship, the stronger the scent of blood becomes. It is not just anyone’s blood. It is her darling daughter’s.

So, when she finally arrives at the ship, and sees the only seaman with a weapon in hand, she has no reasons not to leap out of water and strike him with her clawed hand.

Alcina does not know that you are a woman disguised as a man. In fact, you are a researcher embarking on countless sea adventures to investigate the myths of Alcina’s very species — mysterious and magnificent sirens.

The captain of the ship is well known in the black market for selling rare, peculiar sea creatures. After many fruitless endeavors on your own leave you with no leads whatsoever, you have disguised as one of his minions, and boarded the ship in hopes of coming across the object of your fascination.

On the night of only the second day out in the ocean, something unexpected is caught in the net.

Excitement bubbling in your stomach, you have rushed to the deck, but when you see the beautiful creature being poked and prodded, the sharp metal of harpoons and knives penetrating skin and drawing dark purple blood, it is replaced by ire.

You have known that these men are merciless. From the beginning, you have a grand ploy devised in your head.

It is simple, easy, and on paper at least, almost flawless — disguise yourself as a seaman, do not bring unnecessary attentions and, lo and behold the grand finale of your plan, surreptitiously release whatever they have caught back into the ocean.

By the time the ship docks, and they notice that their precious cargo has gone missing, you will have long disappeared without a trace.

But of course, things don’t always go as planned, do they?

One stab in particular makes her screech. The pitiful creature is thrashing about, struggling in vain to scramble away from dirty boots and sharp, unforgiving objects.

The man is clearly enjoying damaging such beautiful being. The sickly sweet grin on his face is a testament to how disgustingly vile he is. It makes you want to wipe it off his face — whatever the cost, no matter the consequence.

Disguise be damned!

The ploy be damned!

If you can send her back into the ocean right away, then you will.

Your facade falls together with the man torturing the trembling creature. You do not even realise that it is the captain himself until after you have forcefully yanked the offending object out of his hand, and punched him square in the face. His nose breaks with an audible crack.

Fuck!

All of a sudden, pain blossoms in your arm. You have half a mind to believe that a mere punch has rendered your arm broken. But then, you see red seeping into the fabric of your ruined shirtsleeve.

The harpoon has long left your hand, falling with a clatter onto the sole, and your body, too, joins it on the cold, hard wood as you are unceremoniously shoved.

Sirens are said to be deadly gorgeous, the personification of dark and dangerous, the pinnacle of femme fatale. Although you have little doubt about them, you have always suspected their allure described in myths to be exaggerations.

Now, with the solid proof visible to your very naked eyes, it is safe to say that the myths, correct though they are, are in fact lacking in some aspects. The one that is caught in the net is beautiful, very beautiful indeed, but this one whom you are pinned beneath, oh, she is the most magnificent thing your eyes have ever had the pleasure of beholding!

For a moment, the reality that she is claws deep inside your chest totally slips your mind, for it is busy singing praises of the very thing that does not seem hesitant to rip your heart out.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of the captain approaching, sword in hand. Without thinking, your hands grasp her ribcage, for a fleeting moment unconscious of the gills that are located there.

The surprised little gasp that tumbles out of her plump lips, and directly down the canals of your ears, is the reason behind the colossal eruption of butterflies inside your stomach.

The shadow looming over the two of you is the only sign you need to hastily roll the two of you over, missing by a whisker, the sword that comes striking down. The force with which it is thrown is brutal, sure to pierce scales, flesh and bone. The paper thin edge of the sword manages to catch you, leaving a crimson slash across your back while a good inch of the tip lodges itself in the sole of the boat.

In lieu of the wood, it could very well have been her body. Strangely, the mere idea of it forces ice down your spine.

On the other hand, it only encourages the claws already buried deep in your chest to sink even deeper, and you wince, let out a whimper. You are not expecting her to appreciate your help, but you are also not expecting her to kill you right then and there.

Just why is she so hell-bent on hurting you?

Have you offended her somehow?

You don’t stay on her face long enough to see the look of bewilderment on her face, a flicker of recognition dancing behind those shimmering golden pools.

Before you can ponder any longer, you hear the captain commanding his men to make certain that the two creatures do not flee the ship. It forces you to your feet, and picking up the discarded sword, you quickly cut the net in which the wounded one is entangled.

“Go! Leave now!”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, one after another of the crewmates comes running towards you, and you strike them with the back of your sword. You do your best to redirect their attentions to you, buying enough time for the other two to escape.

And just like that, you are your own undoing, left to eat your own empty words.

It is one against many. Of course, you are bound to lose. But by the time you have no energy left, and the sword is eventually knocked out of your hand, the two mysterious creatures are thankfully but regretfully long gone.

──────── ･･ ✶ ･･ ────────

Why has she returned anywhere near this godforsaken eyesore of a ship? Alcina is none the wiser.

Perhaps a part of her feels bad.

She has learnt from her daughter that contrary to what she believes, you have been the one to save her daughter. If it is not for you to intervene, Bela has said, the bastard who is having fun inflicting pain upon her would have actually maimed her.

In the scheme of things, as wrong as it is to immediately point the finger at you, considering the situation she has found herself in, wrongfully accusing you is understandtable. Her little Bela has been suffering after all, and she cannot afford the luxury of dawdling.

She does admit however that she has done you a great wrong by wounding you, not to mention her daughter’s saviour, so terribly.

Still, she lies.

She knows very well why she has returned here. Because you remind Alcina of her.

Could it be— no.

Absolutely not! She chides herself. Clearly, you are a stupid man-thing. There is not a ghost of a chance that you are her darling girl.

Peeved at this ceaseless delusion of hers, she is on the cusp of swimming back to her daughters, and more than ready to disregard everything about today, when all of a sudden, the tranquilility of the night is spoiled by a booming splash.

Underwater, the ripples tickle the gills, and scales on her tail.

An invisible but a profoundly palpable force compells her to swim towards the source. The brain tells her that it is a bad idea; its endless lectures, she ignores in favour of the heart’s desire.

What awaits her on the other end is you. Hands bound behind your back, you are being dragged into the bottomless abyss of the ocean. The culprit is the large anchor attached to the very end of the same rope that is tied to your shackled feet.

Her heart stutters.

Your movements have left the head scarf floating away in the water. All this time, it has been hiding your lustrous silky strands.

The awful mustache she has very clearly seen on your face has simply fallen off. It, too, has been a fake all along.

It goes without saying that the twin parallel moles on your shoulder are indeed real. It is not just her treacherous eyes playing awful tricks on her.

With both of the additions gone, and that one little detail, you and her darling girl become the same person.

The same soul in the same body. Only different lives during different times.

In this life, they have merely crossed paths, and the endless circle has already begun. You are not only hurt as a consequence of helping Alcina and her daughter escape, but injured further by her very own hands.

She feels a sharp stab deep within her chest.

Her darling girl is as selfless as she has remembered her to be.

Kind faced and gentle souled.

With tender hands and a heart of gold.

There is a sudden profound wave of nostalgia that sweeps over her, all-consuming — a beautiful voice that sweetly calls her name, feather-soft fingers that tentatively explore her body, nauseatingly velvety lips that touches her everywhere.

Warm, sunny days filled with stolen kisses and sugary smiles.

Chill and gloominess brought by rainy evenings and cold, winter nights, but they just cannot compare with the warmth and brightness that is you, her sweet girl.

In this bitter, foredoomed tale, Alcina’s grieving heart takes refuge in those little delectable bits that the two of you have so lovingly crafted together.

Because, what awaits them in the end is blood.

So much blood. Every. Single. Time.

And here you are. They have not even begun, and yet, your exquisite frame is already battered and bruised.

Alcina cradles you close against her chest. It is as delightful as it is excruciating to have you in her arms once again. Her bright, shining light, oh how she has missed you!

There is nowhere in this world where she would rather see you than in her arms. Here is where you belong.

Oh but she knows it to be false. She knows it all too well in fact.

To her tremendous relief, you are only unconscious. She has gotten you out of the chains, and enchanted you so that you will be able to breathe underwater. She has also taken the liberty of reading your mind for some much needed informations.

Then, in her human form, Alcina carries you to the cottage you are currently staying at, which is not very far from the ocean.

Tentative fingers glide across your face, as if one real touch from her would turn you to dust. She traces the outline of your every delicate feature that is eternally engraved in her very heart.

One wave of her hand makes the wounds and cuts on your body vanish.

The tears and stains in your shirt repairs themselves, leaving no traces of having ever been ruined, or for that matter, sullied with your own blood.

“It is only wishful thinking but I do want you to know somewhere in here-” A hand rests on your chest, your heartbeat a soft, serene thump beneath her palm. “-that I love you so much....an echo of the past mayhap. But, it is because I love you, my darling, that I have to do this.”

Lips meet your temple, devastatingly tender, and a thumb caresses your cheek, the gesture painfully gentle in contrast to the rough, calloused texture of her skin.

She speaks your name oh so softly with an ache in her heart, a quaver in her voice.

“Unless I cease to exist, there will never be a moment in my life where I stop loving you. Sleep well, precious girl,” A lonesome tear falls. “ …and forget everything about today, about me.”

There is a tale among bards that is notably famous far and wide. Their poems tell us of a human girl who has captured the attention of a creature of the ocean, and in turn befriended her.

With voices so jovial, bards would sing of their beautiful beginning: two entirely different souls that, little by little, find love in each other.

However, the ocean is not always calm, nor is the weather perpetually pleasant.

The creature is a taker, and the girl, a giver.

Kindness, warmth, tenderness: staggering affections and delicate sensations the creature has never experienced before, the human shows her for the very first time.

Kind eyed and gentle souled, her human promises her everything. She gives, and gives and gives until she can give no more because for her darling creature, she has given up her life.

In every life, one way or another, the human chances upon the immortal creature.

But, no matter the time and place, she is destined to an untimely death.

Her fate can be prevented....if, and only if, the two of them never fall in love.

For the creature, the human is her past, present and future. She is her entire life.

Although the human has no recollections of her past lives, the soul knows. It feels.

Without warning, without limitation, each time she beholds the peculiar, magnificent creature, she falls for her all over again.

There is no happy ending to their story. Tragedy is bound to strike.

With voices woefully melancholic, the bards croon of the creature’s enchanted kiss bestowed upon the human.

The creatures of the ocean are magical beings. Such a kiss from them is said to erase one’s memories. One will remember not a trace of ever encountering them.

There would always be a day in the human girl’s life where she would feel particularly empty inside, as if the most vital piece of herself has gone missing — a hollow shell.

Waking up with wet cheeks, and an aching heart, she would always find, held tightly in her hand, a lone curious pearl.

──────── ･･ ✶ ･･ ────────

It’s either my beloved sacrificing herself to save me, or I sacrificing our love to save her.

I have learnt after all this time that watching my darling human have her own happily ever after, even in the arms of someone who is not me, is a less painful outcome than having to witness, yet another time, my sweet, precious girl perish in my very arms.

How many times do I have to hold her cold, unmoving body within these very arms that have promised her warmth and safety?

I will never be able to keep her safe within my arms. I have tried, and tried and tried only to fail miserably every time. Having no knowledge of me will promise her a much safer, happier life.

You, my dearest, will be able to live your life to the fullest as long as you are far away from me.

It is excruciating, yes. But sometimes, if you truly love someone, you have to release them.

Because what is love, if not the most exquisite form of suffering.

Through blurry vision, I gaze down at the shimmering pearl resting on the palm of my hand.

Behind its bony cage, the stupid organ throbs excruciatingly.

Fist collides with my chest.

Fingers dig into my flesh.

Anything....

Anything to numb this heartache.

Amidst all the jumbled thoughts and confused murmurs, the one word that leaves my mouth with intense clarity as teardrops wet my cheeks has been....

“Oh, Alcina.”

#alcina dimitrescu angst #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil alcina #re8 alcina #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #siren #character x reader #fanfic #angst #resident evil #mermay 2022 #human x monster

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starryevermore · 1 year

Text

following orders: the intel (3) ✧ tech

following orders ✧ a tech bad batch story | ao3

inspired by: a conversation with @captainsbestgal

pairing: tech x fem!reader

series summary: you don’t want to live in a galaxy where the love of your life, tech, does not exist. but, you can’t abandon your already grieving family. you devote all of your energy to helping hunter and wrecker save omega from the empire and, perhaps, save the wayward crosshair along the way. but the longer you look for the youngest member of the bad batch, the more you suspect that your lost love is not as lost as you once believed.

chapter summary: despite wolffe’s information, there still is not much to go in your quest to find omega. that is, until an opportunity presents itself.

word count: 5,183

series warnings?: spoilers for “plan 99”, plan 99, canon-typical violence, hurt tech, canon divergent, fix it fic, angst, grief/mourning, torture, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, relationship discussions, mutual pining, clone troopers speak mando’a, depression, suicide ideation, memory loss, brainwashing, jealousy, not proofread

chapter warnings?: grief/mourning, mention of alcohol, not proofread

One Month Later

And yet, nothing changed. Nothing substantial, anyhow. Despite the rumors that Wolffe, Boost, and Sinker had heard on Cato Neimoidia, there wasn’t much else to be heard. It made sense, of course. The Empire was attempting to sweep the clones under the rug. The last thing that any higher-ups would have wanted was for the public to know they were torturing, experimenting on, the very people they had created to fight their wars. This was information that was going to be under heavy lock and key. Few people would know about it, and even fewer would know the intimate details. With the kind of missions Rex was running, it was difficult, if not impossible, to find out anything that might be helpful in the hunt for Omega and Crosshair.

In the weeks following the Wolfpack’s reveal about the possible experiments, you found yourself going on fewer and fewer missions with remaining members of the Batch. It was too disheartening. To be out there, fighting to save others when you couldn’t even save your own family… You didn’t understand how Echo did this sort of thing day in and day out. Did it not kill him to know there was little to be done to save Omega? To save Crosshair? How did that not wear him down? How did that not make him want to give him, declare this all a fruitless endeavor? (Perhaps he was a better person than you. Perhaps you were too selfish.)

Of course, your reluctance to leave for missions did not mean that you gave up entirely. The clones were more than capable of going off, saving their vode, retrieving information, without you. But when they returned to base, they were spent, and the necessary upkeep on their ships and the few droids they had became sidelined. You weren’t the best mechanic in the galaxy, but you learned enough from Tech over the last several months to make yourself useful. At least it kept your mind from wandering off, worrying about all of the horrible things that Omega had to be experiencing.

“We’ve got room on the Marauder for one more,” Hunter said as you fiddled with a ship’s hyperdrive.

You glanced at him, then saw Wrecker standing just behind him. Wrecker still didn’t like to talk to you all that much. From what you’d gathered from Hunter and Echo, he was worried that you might finally break, finally snap at him, finally blame him for his perceived part in Tech’s death. Wrecker wouldn’t blame you for lashing out, Echo told you, but he thought it was better to give you space. It didn’t matter that you told Echo to tell Wrecker that him avoiding you was hurting you more; the big guy had already made up his mind.

“I need to get this fixed before Howzer and Gregor go on their mission,” you said, turning your attention back to the broken hyperdrive.

“I’m sure one of the droids can finish up if you wanted to go with us,” Hunter said.

You looked over at one of the pit droids hitting the other with a wrench. “…Yeah, I think it’s safer if I finish this.”

Hunter didn’t say anything for one beat, two. Now more than ever, he wanted the remaining members of his family to stick together. He couldn’t protect his family unless they were all together. But, he knew he couldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. “We leave in ten minutes,” he finally said, “in case you change your mind.”

“I won’t, so don’t wait up for me. There’s a lot around here I need to work on, anyways.”

You weren’t sure how long Hunter lingered, but when you looked a few minutes later, he was gone. But Wrecker still remained a few feet away, staring down at feet, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. You let out a sigh, rising to your feet, and approached Wrecker.

“Are you going to try to convince me to go, too?” you asked.

He shook his head, then extended a hand toward you. Your brows pinched together, watching as his hand opened to reveal a ration bar. “You need ta eat,” he said.

“Wrecker—” you started to argue, but you were cut off by the sound of your stomach rumbling.

How long had it been since you last ate? The meals here were hardly remarkable—they almost entirely consisted of those terrible rations partly left over from the war and partly stolen from the Empire. It wasn’t like on Pabu, where Shep and Phee always invited you to dinner, always had real, hot meals available. Your time spent on this base had all blurred together. Had it been hours since your last meal? Days, maybe? The pang in your stomach gave you no indication—only that you hadn’t eaten in some time, and that ration bar looked oh so tempting.

It was funny, how you could distract your mind from your base needs if you zoned out far enough.

“You need ta eat,” Wrecker repeated. “He wouldn’t want ya to hurt yerself like this.”

You stared at the ration bar for a moment. “I’ll eat, if you promise to stop avoiding me. I don’t blame you for anything that’s happened. If you think you’re sparing my feelings by staying away, you’re wrong.”

Wrecker looked down at his feet. “But ya should. I’m s’posed to protect us—”

You took the ration bar from Wrecker’s hand, then used your free hand to hold his now-empty hand. “Tech wouldn’t want me to hurt myself, I'll give you that. But he would also wouldn’t want you to feel at fault for a decision he made. You know Tech as well as I do. He calculated every odd, every chance at survival. There’s nothing any of us could have done to have made it better.”

“I dunno—” Wrecker shuffled his feet. “What if you change yer mind? What if you start to feel bitter? I can’t lose you too.”

“Oh, Wrecker…” You dropped his hand, wrapping your arms around him. You rested your head on his chest. For a moment, Wrecker remained perfectly still. But, slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, too. “I miss you. Okay? I don’t want to lose you either, and when you push me away like this…Even if your intent is good, it feels like I am losing you.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s make a deal, yeah? I start taking better care of myself, if you stop avoiding me.”

Wrecker’s mouth lifted into a smile. “I can do that.”

“Okay, good.” You pulled away from the hug. “Now, go on that mission and blow something for me.”

“I can definitely do that!”

You let out a laugh, watching as Wrecker ran over to the Marauder. It felt a bit strange, to laugh. It felt wrong, to be happy when so much had completely and utterly gone wrong. You tried to think of what Tech would say. Maybe something about how people have to grieve in their own way, but that part of that process was learning how to live again. That being able to laugh again was a good thing, that it was a sign you were healing.

Sighing, you turned back to the hyperdrive. Now was not the time to be thinking about things like that.

The unfortunate part of pushing those thoughts to the side was that, eventually, it was all going to boil over eventually and, often, in the worst ways possible.

Wrecker hadn’t meant any harm. Really, he didn’t. But when you’ve spent so much time trying to push your feelings to the side, trying to ignore the pain in your heart. And when he did the one thing you couldn’t ignore—Maker, you couldn’t stop the rage from boiling over.

Ever since Hunter had given you Tech’s goggles, you took them with you everywhere. That was relatively easy when you all were still on Pabu. You hardly ever left the Marauder, so you didn’t have to worry about breaking the goggles any further. But now that you were on the base, going out of the ship and helping with repairs…Well, it was much harder to ensure the goggles were safe. You had a few bits of scrap fabric, so you fashioned something of a bag that you wore on your belt with the goggles inside. It wasn’t infallible, though. One wrong move, and you could easily break them even more.

It had been a rare moment of respite for you and the Batch. Wrecker and Hunter hadn’t been sent out on a mission in a few days. It had been a relatively quiet day. You were busy fixing some broken blasters. Hunter had joined you under the guise of offering assistance, but he wasn’t particularly inclined to that sort of work. All he really did was hand you the tools that were too far out of reach or helped you steady something when you needed it. Mostly, he just talked.

Ever since the night on the dock, if he had the time, Hunter would come and talk to you about Tech. You weren’t sure if it was more for your sake or his—was he trying to cheer you up? or was he clinging to the memories of his fallen brother?—but, regardless, you appreciated the gesture.

“Tech actually tried convincing the Kaminoans that a Jedi started the food fight?” you laughed as he regaled one story from when they were cadets.

“No, worse—he tried to convince the long-necks that one of the regs was Force sensitive,” Hunter corrected. “Which was impossible, because they tested all sorts of things, so if a reg had a high midi-chlorian count, they would have known.”

“Or Shaak Ti would have realized.”

“Exactly! But it had been the fourth time that month that Wrecker and Crosshair started a fight, and Tech worried about the long-necks might to do them, so he just started talking without thinking.”

“I'm surprised he could do that,” you teased. “For all his brilliance, he had to come up with the worst possible lie imaginable.”

“Tech was never a good liar, but it kind of worked in the end. The long-necks were too interested in if they had missed a Force sensitive clone that they never did do anything to Wrecker or Crosshair.”

“What about when they realized Tech was lying?”

“Well, he came up with a bit of a better lie then. Said it must have been a trick of the light,” Hunter laughed. He leaned forward on the bench, propped up on his elbows, shaking his head. It was rare to see him so calm, so relaxed. “Still a terrible lie, but they let it slide. They couldn’t prove anything by then, anyways. Actually…Now that I think about it, they did put us on janitor duty for a while there…”

You snorted, trying to imagine the Batch as janitors. Tech would probably be the most diligent about it, at least in terms of making sure they others weren’t mixing any chemicals. Or else Wrecker would be convincing him to make an experiment of it, just to see what would happen. Hunter would be giving a half-hearted effort, just because he was too distracted by making sure the others didn’t get them into more trouble. Crosshair would only be contributing to the mess by throwing his toothpicks on the ground. If Echo had been there, he probably would be grumbling the entire time about how it wasn’t fair that he had to be punished when it wasn’t even his fault while also being the only one actually trying to clean.

It was nice, to laugh like this. The ache in your chest was ever-present, but having time like this dulled it slightly.

But the universe was not on your side. For every moment that you felt a little more normal, a little bit lighter, it would all come crashing down in a blaze of fire. (Grief is not linear, Tech would say. Some days will be worse than others. You might feel like you have gotten over something, but one thing will remind you of the pain. It might feel like a setback, but grief does not just end because a certain amount of time has passed.)

Wrecker had come running up to the bench where you and Hunter sat. He looked excited about something—maybe discovered a new joke, or was just excited to spend time with you and his brother. Regardless, he was running, running, running— As you watched him, you worried if he would be able to stop in time, if he might crash into the bench, if he would trip over his feet and fall or—

“Oh, kark—”

The bench shook as Wrecker fell into it. When he hit it, the bench slid into you, knocking you off your stool. You landed on your hip. A cracking sound made your blood run cold. Hunter rose to his feet, rushing around the bench to where you were. He helped you to your feet, trying to hide his flinch as more of the glass cracked against itself.

Time seemed to slow as you reached down to the pouch. You opened it, tipping it over so its contents spilled onto the table. The goggles fell out first, a dull clunk! ringing through the air. The glass followed. Pieces that were once attached to the frame were disconnected, mostly shattered into hundreds of near dust-like particles. Your breath hitched in your throat.

Wrecker said your name. You could barely hear him. “I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to—”

“Are you alright?” Hunter asked.

A hand reached out to touch your shoulder—who the hand belonged to, you weren’t entirely sure; your mind was a million miles away—but you flinched at the contact. Without a word, you scooped up the goggles, clutched them close to your chest, and ran off to the Marauder.

Was it childish to do act like this? To be so close to falling apart over a pair of already broken goggles becoming more destroyed? Perhaps. But, oh…What would Tech say if he was here? (“Grief is not rational, sen’ika.”) And yet, you found yourself feeling ashamed at how you felt. It was just a pair of goggles, right? But they were his goggles. His bunk on the Marauder and those goggles were all that you had left of him, the only things left of him that were purely his.

Now, you fully understood how Omega could be so distraught when the Marauder had been taken.

In the sanctuary of Tech’s bunk, you let yourself feel the tidal wave of emotions rush over you. A sob wracked your body as you buried your face in his pillow. It did not bring you as much comfort as it used to. In the weeks since you lost him, his scent had faded. The lack of his presence made you feel out of place. Even look at his dozens of notes decorating the wall made your heart ache more than before.

Neither Wrecker nor Hunter followed after you. You wondered what they were doing. Was Hunter chastising Wrecker for his carelessness? You hoped not. Wrecker didn’t mean anything by it. He didn’t know the consequences that would follow from his actions. You knew Hunter knew that. But Hunter was also at his wits end. You weren’t quite sure what would send his over the edge.

But the longer you laid in Tech’s bunk, staring at his notes on the wall (How to Win Her Heart: Step 1. Make her laugh—she has a very nice laugh. Step 2. Learn more about her. Share your own experiences. Step 3.—), the more concerned you became. Was no one going to come talk to you? Hunter had always been the type of person to give you space when your emotions were high. But he always came around eventually. And Wrecker…Well, usually he would have come running after you the second he hurt you.

Sitting up, you decided you had to go see what was happening out there. But, a steady clunk! clunk! clunk! of a pair of boots stopped you. The footsteps were heavier than Hunter’s usually were—he tended to be relatively light on his feet, always careful to not make too much noise so he didn’t overwhelm himself. That meant it must’ve been Wrecker. You swung your legs over the edge of the bunk, peaking your head out so you could watch Wrecker approach you.

His head was hung low, hiding his face from you. But you could imagine the pained expression he probably wore. He always wore his heart on his sleeve. Even if he hadn’t meant to cause you pain, he felt every ounce of guilt as if it were intentional. What was more curious, however, was the glint of something in his hands. When he got closer, you realized it was a necklace.

“Wrecker—” you started.

“I know it’s not the same as it was before,” he said, cutting you off, “but I tried to make it better.”

He held the necklace out to you. It was a simple silver chain, but the pendant was the part you were interested in. It was one of the larger shards of glass from Tech’s goggles. Your heart clenched at the sight of it. Wrecker had done this? To make you feel better?

“Did you make that?” you asked.

“Mhm. Picked it up when we were on Ord Mantell. Learned from one of the ladies who made jewelry when I’d hafta wait for the Mantell Mix be made.”

“But…why?” You didn’t understand why Wrecker would pick up on this hobby, why he would reveal it to you now. Perhaps the grief was clouding your mind. It was hard to think these days.

“I like blowin’ things up,” Wrecker said, twirling the chain of the necklace around his finger, “but I like knowin’ I can do gentler things, too. I like knowin’ my hands can make things an’ not just destroy things.”

He held the necklace out to you. You took it from him, looking at the yellowed piece of glass that hung from the chain. The edges of the shard had been filed down so it wasn’t as sharp, wouldn’t cut you as you were wearing it.

“You made this?” you asked.

Wrecker nodded. “Most of the glass was too broken to salvage. I put those pieces in this,” he said, producing a small box and handing it to you. “But I figured you could wear this piece, keep him close to your heart.”

You handed the necklace back to Wrecker, turning your back to him. “Help me put it on?” you asked.

Wrecker reached around, looping the chain around your neck and clasping it shut. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break it.”

You turned back around. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to.”

“I just didn’t know you carried his goggles around with you. If I did—”

You grabbed his hands, squeezed them tight. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

Wrecker nodded, but he still looked so crestfallen, so remorseful of what he’d done. You gave his hand a tug, urging him to sit next to you. Slowly, he sank into the bunk. He kept his gaze turned toward his lap. You scooted closer to him, bumping your shoulder against his. Finally, he looked up at you, his eyes glassy as if he was trying to do everything he could to not cry.

“Tell me a story about Tech,” you said.

“Doesn’t Hunter usually do that?”

“Yeah, but I wanna know your stories about him. I wanna know about who Tech was through your eyes.”

Wrecker was silent for a moment, two. For a second, you wondered if he was going to say anything at all. If you were going to have to assure him again that you weren’t upset. But, finally, he said, “The first time you joined us on a mission, Tech spent the entire night talkin’ ‘bout you. Kept talkin’ about how he liked how you listened to him, didn’t roll your eyes or nothin’ when he’d start ramblin’ about a topic. Really liked it when you asked him questions. Said it made him feel like he wasn’t a bother to other people. But, what he really liked, was when you laughed at one of his jokes. Showed me a recordin’ of you laughin’ over and over and over again.”

“I never knew that.”

“He didn’t want you to. Took him a long time to figure out how he felt about you.” Wrecker’s mouth tugged into a smile. “Didn’t stop him from practicing every joke he wanted to tell you on me first.”

You twisted your necklace around your finger, a smile growing on your face, too. Oh, if only Tech knew how much you loved him from the moment you two met, too.

“He made a lot of bad jokes. You should be grateful he ran them through me first,” Wrecker teased, bumping your shoulder with his. He moved as gently as he could manage, careful to not knock you over. “He kept trying to make a joke about tookas work, but it never did.”

“Could you tell me some of those jokes? If you remember them, I mean.”

And for the rest of the night, Wrecker told you as many jokes he could remember. (Which, of course, sometimes meant that he only remembered the set up or the punchline but not both, which was just as funny in its own right.)

“Have I mentioned that I hate this?” you muttered, picking at a loose thread on your dress as you waited in the long line of people seeking admittance to the Imperial gala.

“You’ve made yourself perfectly clear,” Hunter said through the comm in your ear. “Just focus on the mission.”

“I don’t see why you or Wrecker couldn’t have joined me.”

“Our faces are a lot more recognizable than yours, sen’ika. Even with us looking different than the regs, if someone were to look a little too closely, our cover would be blown.”

“I just don’t like being out here on my own.”

“You’ll do fine,” Hunter assured you. “It’s nothing you haven’t done before. It shouldn’t even end with a fight. You’ll be fine.”

But, Tech was with here before, you wanted to say. You held your tongue. It was cruel to point out something that Hunter was already painfully aware of. He knew his brother wasn’t here anymore. He knew you and Tech were the ones who used to run these types of mission before. He knew it was killing you to have to do this on your own.

“We’re on standby if you need anything,” Hunter said.

You didn’t say anymore. Nothing you said could change anything. You were already in too deep to walk away. In fact, you would likely only draw more attention to yourself than if you were to follow through. If someone were to abruptly leave the line for the biggest event on this planet, that would surely draw too many eyes to you. Eyes you couldn’t afford to have on you at the moment. So, there you remained in line, glancing at the rich and powerful people who stood around you.

Oh, what would it be like to actually be one of them? You had played this role before, done all the pomp and circumstance. You’ve putting on the pretty gowns, laughed at the outlandish things the wealthy would say because they don’t have the first clue how the rest of the galaxy suffers. But you only knew this life as an outsider. What would it have been like to truly be one of them?

Before, you used to imagine that, after the war, Tech would invent some brilliant thing. He would marry you, and together you would become a power couple. Still on the outside, of course—the rich and powerful look down on people from “new money”. But to be a part of the conversations in a real way, to be able to actually do something with the power and prestige you would share. Maybe you would be a Breha and Bail Organa sort of couple. Using your wealth to fund the change you wished to see. That would’ve been nice.

“Name?” a droid asked you.

You blinked, not realizing you had already reached the front of the line. How long had you been daydreaming of a life lost, one you never truly had?

“Dione Hart,” you said.

The name had been something you and Tech picked together. He supplied the first name, Dione. He seemed oddly sheepish when he suggested it. You didn’t understand until he explained that Dione was the mother of the goddess of love. She was believed to heal with just a touch of her hands. In one of the most well-known myths of Dione, her daughter had been in battle and, as she Dione tended to her wounds, she reminded her daughter that, though she was immortal, she, too, was subject to pain and injury.

“Since I have met you, I have begun to understand my desire for your affections,” Tech had told you, “yet the rational part of me worries of the pain I might experience if I allow myself to give into such temptations.”

“But isn’t the joy of love worth the chance of pain?” you had asked.

“If it is with you that I get to experience that joy? There is no doubt in my mind that it would be worth it.”

“Then let our last name be Hart, because you’ve had mine since the day we met.”

The droid confirmed your name was on the list and waved you in. Without really meaning to, you held your breath as you passed through the doors. Definitely no turning back now.

The room was the sort of opulent display of wealth you’d grown to expect from these events. The entire place glistened in gold and sparkled in marble. Droids flitted around, holding trays of drinks and food in portion sizes so small Wrecker would opt to eat the tray itself if he were here. You fought the urge to laugh at the thought of him hiding in the corner of the room, trying to nibble on the metal. But, alas, luck, or the Force, or whatever cosmic energy deigned this moment to exist, was not on your side.

As you let out a quiet giggle at the image of Wrecker’s shenanigans, a voice behind you asked, “And what has made a woman as beautiful as yourself laugh so prettily?”

Kriff. You weren’t meant to draw any attention to yourself so soon. You were supposed to spend a few minutes scouting the place, try to find an Imperial officer that was high-ranking enough to have the information you needed but stupid enough to hand it over after you batted your eyelashes at him. Oh, this better not ruin your plans…

You turned to face the man, a soft smile on your face. You had been ready to say something so sugary sweet, he wouldn’t realize you were telling him to get lost. But when you turned, you zeroed in on the insignia on his chest. Oh, he could be quite helpful indeed. You let your soft smile morph into something more flirtatious, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Oh, I don’t share my jokes with strange men I’ve just met.”

“Strange men?” he repeated, quirking an eyebrow. “How about I introduce myself? Then I won’t be a strange man anyone.”

“No, only an unfamiliar one,” you teased.

“Torin Bartow, ma’am,” he said.

In your ear, you heard Wolffe say, “He works in stormtrooper recruitment. I’ve heard his name around a few times.”

Keep an eye on him, was the unspoken order.

“Dione Hart,” you said.

“A name as beautiful as the woman,” Torin said. He held his arm out for you to take. “Join me for a drink?”

Though every fiber in your being wished only to attack him, to claw out his eyes, to force him to tell you everything he knew about the clones being decommissioned—where they were taken to, what happened to them when they got there—you withheld from following such urges. Instead, you held onto his arm, allowing him to direct you to the bar. You allowed him to order you a drink—spotchka, a terrible drink from a terrible man. You pretended to enjoy it.

You laughed at his terrible jokes. You pretended to care about all the “advancements” and “improvements to the galaxy” that the Empire was going to make. You fawned over his title. You batted your eyelashes and giggled and caressed his arm. You allowed him to buy you drink after drink, discarding them where he could not see all while he drank every last one of his own.

And when the night came to an end, you allowed him to lead you out of the gala and into the night.

“Tell me more about your work,” you cooed, clinging to his arm, leaning your head onto his shoulder as you walked. “What happens to the clones? I can’t imagine the Empire would just…” You swallowed down your disgust. “…discard them when so much money had been invested in them.”

“Oh, the clones are not discarded,” Torin laughed, his words slurring together. “Though, I cannot say for certain what happens to them either.”

“Oh?” Your heart sank. Was all this for nothing? Had you done all this for nothing. Maker, you had to think of something to say, something that might give you something useful. Something that would have made all of this worth it. “Surely a man as important as you would be privy to that information.”

If he was not so intoxicated—eight full glasses of spotchka downed in a few hours—he might have had you questioned for such a blatant act of disrespect. But he was too far gone, too unaware of what he was saying and its implications. “All I know is they’re taken somewhere in the Mid Rim. Finally being put to use, you know?”

You swallowed hard. What do you even say to that? “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “The Emperor’s interested in cloning, I guess. Don’t really know what for. Now, c’mon, enough work talk—”

Torin leaned in as if he was going to kiss you, but you pulled out your blaster, pulling the trigger before he could get to close. Set to stun, though you wish it hadn’t been as you watched him hit the ground. After a quick glance around, you pulled him over into an alley, leaving him behind a dumpster. Someone would find him eventually. Or he might wake before then, drowsy and confused, unsure if the woman he met at the gala had been real or something of his imagination.

“Looks like we got some work, boys,” you muttered.

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bluemoondust · 2 years

Text

✧General Yandere Headcanons — Childe/Tartaglia✧

This was a request that got consumed by the inbox, but here it is! My very first time writing Childe but I hope you all enjoy! Especially the original requester! 😊

Edit: FINALLY I MANAGED TO WRITE THESE DOWN (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

Warning(s): He is his own warning, Possessive Behavior, Mentions of Murder, Sadistic Tendencies, Hints of Manipulation

This man is a lot to unpack, but to make it simple, he is very much a possessive, manipulative, and sadistic yandere. Regarding the manipulative part, he isn't one to use manipulation often even if he is truly good at it. No, he prefers other methods when dealing with matters he must attend to. You are no different. Childe is the type of yandere, in reaction to growing feelings for you, who will immediately find ways to get closer. He would honestly love to spar with you if you're someone who does know how to fight. It will just bring the two of you together! Don't hold back comrade! He will be able to tell, after all.

To answer the question if he is aware that his feelings are wrong: that part doesn't really matter to him. So what? Nothing is normal when it comes to him, so why should he be concerned with something like this? He loves you. That's all there is to it. Unconditional love that he is willing to give you if you just let him. His way of loving is just more unique than others, but is it really so different? People often say they'd do such much for the person they hold dearly. Childe would agree as such.

He definitely talks about you to his family. They always hear a mention of you somewhere in his letters and it just brings them elation! They're all so happy to see their beloved son/brother take an interest in someone. Plus, with what he's said about you in writing, you must be a keeper. This leaves you in quite the bind when you finally meet Teucer, who excitedly speaks of you becoming his in law after spending much time with you. "Aren't you just great with kids?" Childe states as the two of you are hanging out with his brother. You're a natural.

But oh, does he find rivals so interesting. Jealousy is a funny concept to Childe—hilarious even. There's no feelings of such if anyone hangs around you too often because they're wasting their time. They will never have you no matter how hard they try. It's a fruitless endeavor. However, if they'd like to be difficult with him, he invites them to do so! It's just another excuse to immerse himself in the thrill of conflict. There is also the plus of just getting rid of those pesky foes as he knocks them down a peg... To the point where you'll never see them again. They should have not started a fight they could never win. It's only common sense. To add more insult to injury... Childe deems rivals as not worth the energy to feel jealousy. All he is concentrated on is how he'll cut them down to size.

Speaking of which. This man is not above slaughter. Especially if he's killing for your sake. You might be having a bad day and I would highly advise this if it was due to someone dampening your mood. Do not tell him that someone caused your day to turn sour. Do not tell him their name or who they are. Childe can be perceptive when it comes to you, so he can tell when you're upset. He'll of course ask you why the long face and listen intently. He's watching your face the entire time as you speak and then he asks, "Did someone cause this?" It's... Unnerving. You can't explain the expression he has at all while waiting for your response.

"I can get rid of them if you'd like." This would bring a surge of fear in you, despite the smile on his face. He could laugh it off later and play it off as a joke, but both of you know full well that he isn't joking. That moment would probably be your first major red flag if you haven't detected anything else yet. Sometimes, because of how Childe doesn't see a problem with his feelings being unhealthy, he does things on a whim. He loves you, right? So, wouldn't it be reasonable to show as such by getting rid of problems in your life? Though maybe in this instance he was just looking for an excuse to draw blood, but who knows.

I don't think he'd be too much of a danger to himself, except for the fact that he does take on fights where he has a disadvantage. But that's the thrill of it. It just depends. As for others, it's extremely obvious that he can pose as a threat to other people. However, that is only reserved for those who threaten your life or are getting too close for comfort. Childe is... Okay with you having friends but his possessive traits get the best of him as he hovers around you. Staring down at your friends with that damn smile.

That is why, when questioned if he is selfish or selfless, it's odd. Childe can act selfless such as when he takes things on for you even if it wasn't asked of him. He could be a decent boyfriend. On the other hand, he leans a little more into being selfish. Especially if he's done a lot for you already. There is a part of him that believes that he deserves you—deserves the right to have you. It is something you should come to understand. No amount of fighting against him will change his mind. And oh does he encourage you to fight him off. You'll never win. You're not strong enough, darling. Ever time you get put in your place is proof to him that he has the right to claim you as his.

#yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere ajax #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere ajax x reader #yandere male #male yandere

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shiiiko · 1 year

Text

Scaramona au

She couldn't hear anything, she couldn't see anything. It got her breathing heavily as she tried to move but her body would not, in the distance she could see him. The 6th of the Fatui Harbingers, The balladeer, her lover.

She tried to move, Archons only know how much she's trying but she couldn't, as if there were invisible cuffs shackling her as she watched her beloved continue to walk further and further away from her.

Her eyes wide, pupils dilated she tried to shout his name, make her presence known to him but she couldn't as if her mouth was sealed in shut, she was struggling against the invsible binds that got her stuck. When she finally got out of the binds she ran, ran towards him even when her legs begged her to stop. Whenever she reached closer to him he seemed to move even far away than the last time.

In futile effort she tried to reach out her hand towards the purple headed puppet before she fell into a void of darkness.

Her eyes shot open as she jolted awake, she sat down on the soft comfort of her bed, she looked around her to see a familiar room, it was her room. There were scattered spellbooks and documents littering around as she sighed, leaning her forehead to the palm of her hand as she tried to calm her erratic heartbeat

"Come on Mona, that was a dream..."

The purplette tried to convince herself, taking a deep breath she finally grasped the reality she was in. The reality where there was no Scaramouche, there was no 6th Harbinger, no Balladeer. Only The Wanderer, how she came to remember remained unknown to her and she was not about to tell anyone about it either.

She laid back down, her hitting the soft pillows as she stared at the ceiling in a daze, sometimes she wonders if everything would be different if she did not remember, sometimes she wished she didn't. For the main reason of memories that kept plaguing her mind. memories she knows she won't be able to relive.

She kept shifting her position in bed as she grunted, decided that if she couldn't sleep she'll just start her morning at.... 4 am.... Oh teyvat she groaned as she rubbed her face and got up

"Damn it all"

She murmured to no one in particular as she went to her window to look at the stars. She spotted a particular constellation, bringing back a memory

------------

"Such a useless hobby you have"

Huffed a short purple haired man as he eyed the Astrologist as she looked through a telescope making her snort and retort

"For your information this is my job, not my hobby"

The latter only laughed sardonically but kept quiet, decided that arguing with the female would just end up in a fruitless endeavor though he does like pushing her over the edge of her sanity

"Amuse me, Megistus. What's my constellation?"

He asked as he walked behind her to embrace her from the back, something he does not do in public. Something that's only exclusive for her. The Astrologist's lips quirked upward as she felt the familiar warmth

"How arrogant of you to think that I did research about your constellation"

she giggled when she heard a small but noticeable grunt coming from the short male, squeezing her a bit before he chuckled and spoke

"Did you not?"

He asked, his tone cocky. Knowing fully that she did no matter how much she tried to deny it. Her huff was an answer enough making him laugh, the female slapped his arm playfully as she spoke

"Oh fine I did, only out of pure curiosity! Do not get any ideas, Scaramouche!"

He rolled his eyes playfully at her remark as he rested his head on the juncture of her shoulder and neck

"I'm not~ So tell me, what is it?"

He loves humoring Mona's rather peculiar hobbies just as much as he loves teasing her, something about her innocent smile and her excitement that's somehow akin to a child's whenever she talked about anything related to the stars just seemed to make his heart burst

------------

Her eyes gleamed as she began ranting on and on about his constellation in his arms as both stared at the starlit sky

#scaramona #scaramouche #mona #astrology #constellation #scaramona fluff #post wanderer #mona remembers #light angst #fluff and angst #Idk how to tag #fanfic #au

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3vocatio · 2 years

Note

idk évo something tells me that godtongue doesn't like her mother

i didn't think you'd look that closely at my tags! it's a little more than the simple, “i hate my mother”, storyline... [godtongue] doesn't hate her. not currently, anyway; she is troubled, though.

if you'd like to read through a quick explanation of her lore (because the document i'm rewriting is. too many pages as we know it atm), i wish you the best of luck of attempting to retain all of the information.

tldr; her mother was a very assertive woman, and she immensely loved her family that consisted of her husband and her daughter. after fleeing her own family with her lover, she'd settle down with him and raise their child with ease, enjoying every day that consisted of teaching her new things.

however, her father's family (being consisted of high class citizens), despised [godtongue]'s mother and by proxy, herself. she didn't mean to become hated, but she couldn't help but make her voice a little too known--not everyone will enjoy the same mindset you have. there was a time when [godtongue] was around 8 where she'd succumb to an unnatural fever that caused her bones to bend & break, and her own family offered a tea that would "ease her passing" (it was outwardly known it was poisoned). she refused to drink it despite the pain she was in.

the severity of the situation began to rise, where her father's family would become increasingly hostile and, between you and me, her mother's family began on the hunt for all three of them--particularly [godtongue]. for lore reasons, [godtongue] and her mother were forced into hiding.

but her mother grew sick of hiding. so, she took a little [godtongue], around 13 at the time, to confront her husband's family.

(i'll include some writing from something i previously wrote...[godtongue] is dreaming.)

“paralleling her behavioral habits, her dream doesn't dawdle in one place: it presses on. she finds herself visiting every long-lasting moment from her infancy, through her adolescence, and coming to a steady conclusion as the dream begins to rest once it steadily rolls through her adulthood to the present. she watches, and she listens. [godtongue] doesn't dig her nails into her past grievances. instead, she has grown to come to a stopping point in which she has come to accept the unfortunate outcomes that her parents laid before her, and does not hold anything against them, no matter how fruitless their endeavors were. her eyes soften upon viewing her younger self alongside them, playing by the riverbed shortly before destruction would fall upon them.

she pays close attention to her mother in particular, and tenses once the atmosphere flashes, taking the form of a scene she has replayed in her youth time and time again before the next great destruction.

from the mountain edge, two figures gazed down into the newest settlement—a mining location that would soon fill the skies with black smoke and the clattering of metals. aquilo, it was called, the roman word meaning “north wind”. a woman stood with purpose, speaking in a foreign tongue right on the rocky edge; as she spoke, the wind began whipping violently around her, thick black curls lashing like snakes against her skin. at her side, her daughter's eyes flickered with uncertainty, yet her small figure remained unmoved. she took after her mother's will, and honored it greatly.

[godtongue]'s mother was a serpent trapped in its own snakeskin. it could be big, it may be beautiful, you might even come to love it, and its fangs may hold the most potent of venoms—but it was nothing unless it would shed. there she was, still writhing and wriggling to be free from her own body all these years later until her last breath.”

upon doing so, [godtongue]'s mother ended up unleashing powerful magic in an emotional frenzy, and when [godtongue] looked upon both of her parents in horror, she begged her mother to stop. from there, they'd both flee into the forest, where her mother would collapse and begin dying as a result of her strong surge of power.

woefully staying by her mother's side, a dark spirit taken the form of a cat would appear, and at the same time her mother drew her last breath, a long, black cut was administered down her chest; both a blessing and a curse. this cut, however, holds remnants of her mother's soul, and there would be somedays where she finds the terrifying look of her mother in her own eyes, and feel things that were not her own. as she grew older, these feelings dissipated--but her cut would still be there, lingering.

[godtongue] could very much follow down the same path her mother did, she is capable of the same baneful wrath, the same power that exuded from her, but chooses not to. in spite of everything, [godtongue] grew to be very secure, and isn't so easily swayed by mere illusions.

that, and she has had days where she would talk to herself, to her cut. even if she were truly alone, she carried the story of herself and her parents. she never forgot what it means to love, and to be loved. she still held onto the feeling that one day, after generously sharing her affections, she too, will find people willing to give her as much love as she is willing to give them, platonic or not.

#﹒❝ birdsong #sevensigils #oc: godtongue #teehee lore drop on tumblr dot com

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3verythingisfine · 2 months

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I accidentally made a story base on someone’s question “Where do you think the gender fluids are located”

The Gender Fluids are being keep on a sacred mountain that’s hidden in clouds outside the mortal site. It’s being guarded by a mystical shapeshifter whose soul purpose is to protect the Gender Fluids from the pesky mortals. It’s deep within the mountain. You would have to journey far to reach the center of the mountain. Once you find the center you are greeted with a large and powerful waterfall. You would think that the waterfall is the Gender Fluids but no. There is a hidden tunnel through the waterfall. If you manage through you will notice that tunnel is in loopy loops. After what seems like forever, you reach the end and find a cave filled with the most brightest crystals you have ever seen. You walk further and further into the cave. You have no idea how far you have travel nor how long. But thing is certain. You will reach the Gender Fluids no matter what. At the end of the cave you see a box. Finally! The Gender Fluids! They are right within your grasp. You carefully approach the box, cautiously seeing if there’s anything traps. Up close you notice that it’s just a normal box. You place your hands on both sides. You slow lift the lid. What you find inside is… nothing. What?! But where are the Gender Fluids?! They have to be here! “ Calm down young one” you heard. You whip around and see an figure dressed in dark clothing. You can’t see there face with it being cover with a hood. “Who are you?” They replied “I am the one who is to guard this place” “Well where at they? I need them” They chuckled. “ Oh you silly child. You have came for the Gender Fluids have you?” You start to get nervous. Who is this guy? “Yeah duh. Why else would I be here? Know are you going to hand it over” You pull out a switch blade “Or do I need to make you” The person chuckled again. “Calm down young one I mean not harm. But I’m afraid that you’ve have made a fruitless endeavor” You feel anger starting to course through you. “ what the hell does that mean?!”

“ There are no Gender Fluids”

Silence fill the air. Nothing could be heard. Not even a breath.

”What” you whisper. “ There were never any Gender Fluids. The stories you have heard? They are only fiction” Your grip on the blade tightens. A bead of sweat runs down your forehead. “Tha-that can’t be. You’re just hiding them for yourself” You take a step towards the person. Either the person doesn’t notice or is completely unbothered by your attitude. “You are not the first one to have came for such a thing. Many travelers have been in the exact same stop you now stand and have the same exact reaction. I plead that you at least hear me out before taking further action. More sweat streams down your face. What should you do? This guy has to be lying, right? “ Ok” you respond after a pause “explain”

“ As I had stated many people have travels to find the Gender Fluids. They believe that this will grant them the ability to truly be themselves. But what they do not know is that they are already have the Gender Fluids. Gender Fluids isn’t a physical thing. It’s the person. Just like you young traveler I too have seek the thing that will make me me. But I realized that I am already me. I did not become gender fluid. I AM gender fluid. And so are you. You do not think an item to be yourself young one.” While the person was talking they were slowly talking towards you. They are now right in front of you. They are so close now that you can see their face and they give you a loving smile. They place their hand on your cheek brushing the tear that you have not notice. Your blade had been fallen from your hand. More tears fall. Your shoulders shake as you tried to keep it in. The person open up their arms inviting you in. You loose control. You collapse into their arms and they give you the nicest hug you have ever felt. You sob into their rodes. You wanted-no needed to hear that. You’ve always felt different even in crowd where you felt that you should have belonged. You thought that you need some magical item to make you who you are. That without it, you can never truly be you. But no. No matter what people tell you, you are you. You and so many people are the Gender Fluids. And nothing can change that.

#writing #story #im so sorry this is dumb 💀

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iatheia · 2 years

Text

I do love working in academia. I like doing research, discovering things no one has seen before. I enjoy writing papers, I ended up being quite a prolific writer. Working with students can be a bit hit or miss, but it's worth it for the sake of those few who would fully embrace the material.

I love my job. Arguably I am quite good at it. Citations aren't everything, obviously, but I do think I am fairly influential in my field, overall, and I have quite a wide research portfolio in comparison to a number of other people.

I really do love my job. I wouldn't have lasted this long if I didn't. But.

It is so easy to feel ephemeral here, that nothing matters in the long term. Nothing is permanent, you are forced to move around the world. I lived in so many places that it's difficult to consider any "a home", because as soon as you try to set roots, you have to tear yourself out. You are at a mercy of whoever accepts you, and there are so few opportunities, and they are all tied to an academic calendar, so if you fail to get a place one cycle, you have to wait till the next one, hoping to scrape together funding to let you last that long. And when it gets to that nebulous September to December time frame, when all of the applications are due, it gets so hard to focus. You end up procrastinating with the applications, wanting to do literally anything else, but feeling guilty for not working on the applications, it's just becomes a fruitless endeavor, and nothing gets done. And then it gets to the point where it's all out of your hands, and all you can do is wait. And wait. Before eventually accepting a loss, because they wouldn't even bother sending a rejection, most of the time.

It feels like you are hanging by a thread, and if that thread snaps....

This cycle feels a bit better than the last one. There are 25 places - and counting - that are on my radar so far. That's more than double than last year. Plus two applications for grants to federal agencies. And, in part it's me lowering my standards to apply to literally anything I'm even vaguely qualified for, but also, it does feel like there are more openings period on the job registry. I guess as universities recover from covid, some hiring freezes are lifted? Who knows what this will end up meaning, but, I have a shred of optimism.

It feels outright decadent to not agonize over not applying anywhere outside of the continental US, I don't have it in me to move across the ocean again. I had a nervous breakdown the last time I ended up considering it. So, that's that, I won't even try for them.

And I'm materializing positive vibes for that one grant, it probably won't be too much longer before they send out the results. …. it's around 1 in 10 chance, but it's so much better than 1/100 chance for any of the faculty positions. I believe it was a strong proposal, and if it gets funded, it would make so many thing so much easier, even if nothing else goes through. Positive thoughts, not a shred of doubt, look at me go.

Hopefully this cycle something would be able to come together. I am able to stay optimistic so far - antidepressants and adhd medication helps quite a lot in this respect. But may be that optimism is warranted. We'll see how it goes.

After all these years, I just want something permanent in my life. A place to belong.

Only a miracle can set us free. And I can do miracles. Just let me.

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vtori73 · 2 years

Text

I've become use to the space I've made for myself. The lack of outside contact, of people, of interactions with others. Like an imprint in a cushion I've wedged myself here, but not necessarily by choice...

Do I like it? Do I enjoy living this way? ...Does it matter, honestly I ask? Regardless, this is how things are, how life is for someone such as me. Ive tried before, for this to be different, but my endeavors are fruitless, so why even bother to try anyway. I'm use too it anyway, I've become too use to life this way.

Humans are not meant to be alone they say but maybe... things are different for someone such as me. Or... at least the very least that's what I need to tell myself, to believe, to get through this existence.

Do I feel sad right now? Not particularly, more specifically I don't feel much, more neutral, this is merely a statement to myself.

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sagaofstardustmkg · 2 years

Text

makuragaeshi || baku || trial 1.4 || re: nevros

Well, most of Baku's doubts were answered quite cleanly. Still, she resists voting out of some sense of... mourning, maybe? She doesn't know, exactly. Bo would probably be able to tell her better than she knows-- but that only lasts a short while, anyway. As soon as Nevros makes their threat, her mouth pulls thin and strained, and she fumbles her bookmark into its spot. It's a fruitless endeavor, given that she knows Nevros tends not to act out of any sense of rationality. Still, if she can direct the anger against anyone...

It's not like it works. Of course it doesn't. No one would ever bother to notice Baku as anything resembling a threat. She'll never be as tough as someone like X or VB. Given the violent way she flinches in her chair as they dive for VB next to her, she figures her credibility as even a bit scary is totally shot. She pulls her hands up to cover her head, tugging her hat down like it'll act as a shield.

They're deflected, thankfully, and even if they weren't, she's sure VB would be able to handle it. But still-- still. She's not sure what she feels again (should she ask Bo later, maybe? Probably not. He wouldn't have seen. And it doesn't matter, anyway...) but she furrows her brows, uncurling from the protective ball she'd tried to hide herself in.

"Y-You... are you, you aren't a wild animal, Nevros, this isn't a fight-- be-behave, behave, or..."

Slowly she reaches around to pull her lantern out of the loop on her skirt where she keeps it. It dangles in front of her, the dull light illuminating the monstrous face on top, hiding Baku's from view.

"...Or you can spend the rest of the trial out of the way, and you won't-- won't g-get to see what happens to Berceuse at all."

Her stuttering probably decreases the efficacy of her threat, but at the very least, Nevros likely doesn't know enough about her magic to argue with what she is and isn't capable of. Maybe. Hopefully. No one does, she hopes. Even if she's tiny and unthreatening, maybe someone will take it seriously...

...Now, the issue with having a big lantern as a focus-- which she'd complained about before, even-- is that all that hanging metal on it does tend to rattle, when the person holding it has very trembling hands. But maybe no one will hear.

#ch1 #trial #baku

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wheresmulder · 2 years

Note

In my extensive experience there are quite a few racists in the Wheel of Time fandom. They're especially bad on reddit but they've made their way to Tumblr as well. Engaging with them is a fruitless endeavor unfortunately. They rarely ever admit to being wrong about anything. After spending years arguing with them I personally try to block them on sight these days. It's really sad but there are lots of good people too! I truly hope this guy doesn't discourage you from engaging with the fandom.

Oh ty but I'm not discouraged 🤣🤣🤣 not even close especially not by racism bc at this point the racists are losing sooooo bad rn like HOW DOES IT FEEL THAT HALF THE CAST ARE POC???? Bc for me? PARA MI? It Feels fucking PHENOMENAL 🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈 COULD NOT BE MORE PLEASED literally love to fucking see it and love even more to see ppl mad about it 💕💕💕💕💕

But in this situation they didn't say anything racist on my post, i just saw their top post was one lamenting that the show runners were picking black people for "white characters" (as if it fucking matters) bc oMg mUh bOoK dEsCriptiOnS but that was totally unrelated to my post

No this bitch just rly thought they told me some shit I never thought abt before 🤣🤣🤣 like omg I never would have considered that moiraine might use rand 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 and he might not be comfy telling her shit 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 like im not sitting here reading the fucking books myself and couldn't draw that fucking conclusion that has been beat over my head by every book so far in the series (I'm on book 4 thats a couple thousand pages of rand not trusting moiraine) like goddamn man, you don't say, this is brand new information 🤣🤣🤣🤣 tysm 4 your insight 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 yeaaaaaah no that shit is so insufferable. And on a shitpost I made in 30 seconds. It ain't that fucking deep and I Definitely didn't ask. AND DID NOT ASK FOR THAT SPOILER THEY HAD TO SLIP IN THERE🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 TYSM

It literally kills me that the mf didn't even know wtf my post was about 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 EGWENE HAVING A DREAM ABOUT MAT LOOKING HER DEAD IN HER FACE AND SAYING HEY HO IMA COME FIND YOU and her being like damn what a weird thing to dream about well anyway,,, only to find out that hm I guess mat rly was coming for me after all 🤣🤣🤣🤣 and also to a lesser extent perrin was trying to convince himself the wolf dreams weren't Significant bc he was in denial still.. But yeah rand is the only character in the books, my bad I forgot 😅

Maybe this guy is just salty that his 1k word dissertations get 10 notes and my 30 second no effort vagueblogging shitpost has ten times the notes??????.........???? idfk ????? Get a life???????

This was a nice message tho thank you and feel free to message me off anon whenever 💕 everyone I've talked to so far in the wot fandom is super nice and I'll be blocking that person as soon as I know they've read my response

#ask #like if they had made that post independently? good post. fine post.#And tagged it as a fucking spoiler maybe?????????????? no??????????#force me to read your bullshit instead

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killuwumi · 3 years

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Do You Remember?

xiao x fem!reader FLUFF, (i dont think theres many fem references)

Warnings | Not proof read, possible Liyue arc spoilers

a/n: sorry for being dead lol, i got a job recently and school starts for me in just a few days.

When Liyue was crashing down, many fought alongside you and lent you their strength. One of them being Xiao, who you always remember fondly since he caught you.

You had met the adepti before, at the Wangshu Inn, but he was stoic and quiet. Honestly? You thought he hated you. But the case was quite the opposite actually. Xiao admired your hard work in finding your sibling. Wondering what having that kind of love for a person would be like, to go so far, do anything, to find them.

On the cliffs of Liyue, you gathered all the Qingxin you could find for Xiao. You knew deep down this was probably going to be a fruitless endeavor but you couldn’t help yourself. Something inside of you really felt the need to thank Xiao for saving you back then. Whether it was intentional or not, you’ll never forget the way his hands felt on you, and when he squeezed your hand tight like you were going to disappear if he let go.

With each step towards the Inn, you wondered if he would even be there. He does have Yakasha duties to take care of all day and well into the night. Did he ever actually get time to himself? You assumed not.

What? Why were you walking toward the Inn? Were you injured? Overheated? The questions raced in Xiao’s mind as he watched you silently walk toward the Inn’s entrance and greet the staff. Why were you here? Did you need assistance? Whatever the matter, Xiao honestly hoped it wasn’t something that would cause you harm. But he didn’t have the courage to tell you that no matter how blunt he may be.

“I can see you up there, Xiao” You let out a small giggle, your hands full of Qingxin flowers.

Xiao’s shoulders suddenly raised and dropped at the sound of your voice as he turned to you. “Hello Y/N.” His voice was kind of cold, which made you worry that your presence was unwanted.

“Well, if you’re not busy, I brought a gift for you. Or, several.”

His eyes shifted to the Qingxin in your hands, your fingers looked worn, like you had been climbing the mountains and cliffs for those. Clearly you didn’t just buy them from the looks of you. “You know I could’ve gotten those on my own.”

A small frown crossed your face and your free hand rubbed the back of your neck, “I just wanted to ask if you remembered back at the Jade Chamber?”

“I’m not sure it would be possible for one to forget such an event.” Xiao jumped down from his post to stand face to face with you.

“..Aha, I suppose you’re right about that. I just wanted to thank you for saving me, I’m sure it was normal for you but I really appreciate it.” As you extended your hand to give him the flowers, he reached to accept.

“You were invaluable to the mission and rescue of Liyue. For that I show you my gratitude.” Xiao’s voice finally softened up as he sighed.

A soft gloved hand swept against your cheek as you looked up in shock at the masked adepti, his thumb grazing your lips.

“Thank you for these, they are beautiful. Nothing compares to you, but nonetheless pretty.”

In an instant he was gone, leaving you, and something in place of where the Qingxin used to be in your hands. It was a small amulet, made of sapphire. Indicating trust.

You looked forward to seeing Xiao again, and in the meantime Xiao protected you from the shadows.

#xiao genshin impact #xiao #xiao x reader #xiao genshin #genshin impact x reader #x reader #genshin x reader #fluff #genshin #genshin fics #genshin fluff #requests for genshin open #genshin impact xiao #killu's fics

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morsking · 3 years

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uhhhhhh to better grasp why rin is a host for both ishtar and ereshkigal and why sakura is a host for both kama and parvati you’re gonna have to read the vn since that is the only place where you will be treated to the different dimensions of both their characters and dispel any illusions and misunderstandings the ubw anime created (about rin in particular). i can explain it well but if you have the ability to, you should read the vn to really let it sink in and appreciate things more organically.

there are times in the anime where rin feels like a caricature of herself since she appears so confident and fun-loving and tsundere about it (the vn sometimes does this too but manages to balance things out a little better) that it overshadows how rin is also in her own way extremely repressed.

rin, while fashioning herself the ruler of her own world and a competent genius is still someone shackled to her duty as the last living tohsaka heir and denies herself a more profound and fundamental happiness because she reasons so long as she is the tohsaka heir, she can never be sakura’s sister, and wrongfully believes that sakura has moved on without her and belongs with the matous oblivious to what zouken has done to sakura for almost 11 years because it’s easier to think that sakura doesn’t care about her anymore than to confront all she’s taught and has lived for for so long is wrong and that she has a chance to make it right. rin however finds ways to keep running into sakura just enough that her true desires betray her efforts at keeping her distance, and if sakura just said “you are my sister, please let’s live together again” no doubt rin would be so torn to hesitate yet so hopeful to as to want it to be real.

rin’s apparent emotional independence and reputation is a product of her purposefully distancing herself from making any real human connections because she has no idea how to be emotionally available from years of stifling aristocratic conditioning. if she puts herself on a pedestal, it’s easier for others to not approach her and see through her facade. apart from that, as much fun as rin could possibly have by herself there is still something that will keep her from feeling truly fulfilled, and that’s the lack of opportunity (and emotional bravery) to reconcile with sakura. it’s also easier to forsake sakura and threaten to kill her when she’s out of control because acknowledging the horror of killing her own sister would break her own convictions and denounce her, and the tohsakas, as murderers and frauds. ishtar is that side of rin that finds being herself and living as the person in charge of her own existence. ereshkigal is the unhappy part of rin that yearns for more than what she’s been given but feels too guilty and too bound by responsibility to seek it out, and therefore denies herself her wish to connect with the person who would make all the difference in the world (sakura for rin, guda for eresh).

sakura is a naturally kind, gentle, yet strong-willed individual who has experienced that which would break and utterly annihilate most at a spiritual level. sakura only survived what she did because her mental fortitude, much like shirou’s, is so exceptional she will always retain her sense of self even if pushed to the very brink of suffering. despite that, she grew up extremely bitter, depressed, and with a disposition that utterly gave up on the world that abandoned her to the point where she wished others to fail and suffer at whatever they endeavored. if her life was pointless and fruitless as to be thrown away, why shouldn’t everyone else’s be too?

it’s really not until she met shirou that she began to change her mind and desire to have more than just numbness. a boy who just wouldn’t give up no matter how many times he couldn’t clear that jump, and accepted the outcome without regrets, second-thoughts, and self-loathing left such a deep impression on sakura that she wanted that thoughtless drive to live freely and greet tomorrow as a given to be hers as well.

little by little the broken doll with lifeless eyes restored more and more of her inner kindness and good faith, both because she gained a will that did more than just curse, and because there was someone who showed her what a real home, a real family looked like so she’d believe in love and happiness again. but much like rin, sakura struggled to believe she deserved happiness. years of abuse crushed sakura’s self-esteem, and thought her suffering made her unlovable and unnatural. her desire to be both loved and pitied clashed against one another, and were also contradictingly one and the same. it would be easy to be pitied, that means she would’ve been right about her hatefulness all along and she can just fade away along with the pain her baggage might’ve caused others. but if she’s loved, then how will she ever make herself worthy of it? how could she ever justify to herself that she’s being given love that hasn’t been earned? and even worse, what if she’s given love that can be lost?

sakura hides all the things that risk her losing all the love she’s accumulated, a desperate selfish tactic employed by a scared girl deathly afraid to lose the only light she’s ever known. if all her anger, bitterness, cowardice, jealousy, scars, and self-hatred were exposed, what would shirou think of her? once he does find out what she’s gone through, she pushes him away. she really believes she’s done for and has nothing else to come back to. even as shirou keeps asserting he does still want her in his life, she keeps hurling all the terrible things she’s done to him and herself without him knowing: that because he’s kiritsugu’s kid she spied on him for zouken, that she used him to run away from zouken and shinji, that she tried to kill herself, that she’s not a virgin, all to get him to reject her for good while guiltily clinging to the hope that he will still choose to love her in spite, or because of all that.

even after sakura’s killed shinji by accident and transforms into dark sakura, a part of herself is weak towards shirou. a part of herself lashes out when he’s around because she’s still rejecting him hoping he’ll forsake her so he’ll live without getting hurt by her while also begging for him to see how much she’s suffering so he’ll save her, going so far at the end that she tells rin to run away with shirou, having decided to kill herself alongside the grail. rin however, sees through sakura’s attempt to earn pity, but in her own fit of duty-induced forced apathy threatens to kill sakura herself before sakura has the chance to wipe herself out (jesus, rin) rather than comfort her and tell her she wishes for her to live. rin though fails to follow through with her plan. just as she overpowers sakura, she throws away all her lies and embraces her sister, telling her how she really feels, and the very first sincere expression of love her sister has shown her in a decade is enough for sakura to stop dead in her tracks and crumble in grief until shirou arrives to save her and insist that she deserves to live so that all the suffering she both caused and experienced and all the people she devoured can be given meaning. this parallels into how kama as beast iii/L wishes to render all love obsolete by drowning the universe in love to the point where all love becomes meaningless and kama no longer has to be hurt by love, with their defeat marking a change in their beliefs about the world and themself.

parvati tells you as much that she’s taken over sakura’s good side. she’s the earnest hardworking woman who is full of benevolence and enthusiasm after her purpose has become clear. however, what parvati doesn’t understand is that sakura’s good qualities are intermixed with her darker ones and fundamentally cannot ever be truly separated, and that’s why parvati also connects with sakura’s tendency to hide the ugly things about herself out of fear she’ll be rejected, and that it’s wrong and harmful for her to do that to sakura as much (if not worse) as it is for sakura to do it for herself alongside all the people that could be affected by that dishonesty.

apart from the obvious gross reasons, there is in fact a good justification for kama’s ascensions in fgo. their ascensions go from child to adolescent to adult to demonstrate that kama has a parallel to sakura’s personal growth. they are both individuals who, after being betrayed by their own kind (the gods and the tohsakas) and having their bodies destroyed (kama becoming the cosmos, sakura being devoured by crest worms and having her dna rewritten), have lost faith in who they were before and the world around them. kama starts out in sakura’s child body: the young girl who was sacrificed for a greater purpose and whose heart has been filled with depression, cynicism, and hatred for the world around her. their childish disposition however, marks that kama has truly been reborn and is going through the process of recreating their identity after it was shattered by trauma.

when kama is in sakura’s adolescent form, that signals that much like sakura around that age, they still cling to some anger and bitterness, but have begun to ease into forming new connections and their desire to be identified with love becomes complicated as it is both heavily resisted yet profoundly wanted. it is kama at their peak self-loathing, directing hatred to themself as much as their child form did to everyone else.

when kama shifts into sakura’s final adult form, it marks the period where they both have had some of their faith renewed in their existence. while it is still very difficult for them to truly know what love is and whether or not they’ve earned it, they nonetheless make it clear they want to believe in it again with the help of the person they’ve placed their trust upon (shirou for sakura, guda for kama). as the god of love, for kama to learn what love is is for kama to once more understand what it is to love themself again, and like sakura at the end of heaven’s feel finish constructing their brand new identity and move forward in a way that their happiness and reforged self-confidence can dignify their suffering and make up for all the damage they caused others and themselves.

this isn’t to say that pseudos as a concept are inherently good or anything. they are still very flawed because when mishandled for fanservice (and it happens a LOT) they do far more to displease both fans of the mythological figures and fans of the original fate/stay night characters simultaneously than to appease them both by robbing all characters involved of their complexities. regardless, that doesn’t mean that these gods wearing the faces of these girls is entirely pointless, lazy, and thoughtless. on the contrary, these girls were chosen because of all the different facets they have that match their possessors’ demeanors and themes, and i hope that this knowledge can help people see the connection with more clarity.

#anyway ooku event spoilers and vn spoilers for those who wanna go in blind #you don't have to reblog this if you don't feel like it i mostly typed this all out for myself #because i got tired of seeing either bad or somewhat disinformed pseudo servant takes #and needed to say something to keep my sanity

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