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apteryxparvus · 9 months

Note

hiii congrats on 100 followers! may i rq kaeya x reader angst. something like reader getting jealous of kaeya and rosaria drinking til late together

Thank you! Here's the request, hope you like it! 😊

Part of my ✨ 100 followers milestone event ✨ running from September 2nd to September 9th.

Pairing — Kaeya Alberich / Reader

Word count — 1,225

Content warning — angst • drinking • unrequited loved • mentions of smoking cigarettes

You can't help but feel a pang of jealousy, even thought you know it's wrong. After all, you are just his friend, his loyal confidant. You're merely the person he'd turn to for advice on wooing yet another Tinder date, and the one he'd dial up in the middle of the night whenever heartbreak soon follows.

And still, that persistent feeling lingers deep within you.

You're perched at a table inside Angel's Share, sipping a cocktail tasting of harsh alcohol and unresolved bitterness. Jean rests her head on your shoulder, letting out a tired yawn as she absentmindedly plays with her empty glass.

Lisa's voice, sultry and slightly tipsy, breaks the silence. "Another round on me," she purrs, swaying as she rises from her seat. She makes her way towards the bar, where Charles meticulously polishes glasses, weariness evident on his face. "And perhaps some shots," she adds playfully, her giggles trailing behind her as she approaches the counter.

"She sure has a penchant for drinking," Rosaria comments, her raised eyebrow conveying her amusement. She's siting beside Kaeya, directly across from you. She runs a hand through her choppy wine-colored hair, ruffling it. Despite having consumed twice as much alcohol as you, she remains composed, her sharp magenta eyes retaining their intimidating gaze.

You remain silent, an uncomfortable know forming in your stomach as you watch Kaeya and Rosaria lean in closer to each other. Their conversation is hushes, effortless. It upsets you, how natural they seem together.

Your feelings for Kaeya have been brewing ever since that rainy and windy evening four years ago. He had spotted you struggling with your broken umbrella as you exited the Favonius University library after a late-night study session. He offered to walk you to your metro stop, insisting it was his duty as a gentleman.

Of course, you were initially hesitant accepting help from a completely stranger, but you soon discovered you shared a web of mutual friends. Like Lisa, from your classical literature class, and Albedo, your shy roommate's biochemistry lab advisor.

From that point, your friendship blossomed — you'd go on barhopping adventures and various parties across the city, indulge in movie marathons (sometimes just the two of you, other times with his friend group, who quickly became your friends too).

Back in those university days, he would always share his lunch with you, despite his campus being quite a distance away from yours. It was a simple gesture, but to you, it spoke volumes about his thoughtfulness, and perhaps even, the bond you two shared.

And there would be moments when you couldn't help but believe your feelings were reciprocated. Like those nights when he'd snuggle in closer to you after a tiring day at work, claiming your place is conveniently closer to his job, and he didn't want to bother with the inconsistent late-night public transport. Or those times when, amidst the pulsing music and the swirling crowd inside the club, his gaze would always find yours, a playful smirk gracing his lips.

You often found yourself soaring in your imagination, your hopes like wings made of paper and dreams soon to be crushed. You'd believe you could almost reach out and touch the deepest part of his soul, but just like Icarus, you'd inevitably get burned by the reality.

A sudden snort and the clattering of glasses shatter your little daydream, snapping your attention back to the scene around you. Lisa playfully nudges a shot and a cocktail in your direction as she settles back besides Jean.

Kaeya and Rosaria each take a shot glass, clinking them, waiting for the rest of the table to join in.

You bite down the inside of your cheek, but silently grasp the glass and raise it. The little glasses clink in unison and the table cheers, but you remain quiet, unable to shake off the unspoked emotions that linger deep within you.

You down the shot, barely suppressing a grimace at the the strong juniper-flavored liquor.

"I'm going out for a quick smoke," you announce, rising from the table. Kaeya shoots you a concerned glance, but you respond with a polite smile.

Outside the dimly lit bar, you fumble with trembling hands to light up a cigarette. You inhale deeply, and savor the light head rush that accompanies the exhale. The wisps of smoke dance under the glow of the soft yellow lamps.

"Smoking is bad for your health," a gruff voice interrupts your solitude. You glance up, met with deep red eyes and fiery red hair tired in a high ponytal.

"Diluc," you greet the man. "I thought you weren't working tonight."

"I'm merely checking up on my establishment."

You nod, and the two of you fall into silence as you finish your cigarette.

"Is Kaeya inside?" Diluc asks as you extinguish the glowing end of your cigarette on the nearby trashcan.

You nod. "Yeah, he's in there, having drinks with Rosaria, Jean, and Lisa." Your voice quivers slightly when you mention Rosaria's name, and you hope Diluc doesn't catch your subtle slip. If he does, he doesn't acknowledge it.

"And you're not joining in on their antics tonight?"

"I am," you reply, "but I just felt like I needed to clear my head for a bit."

A silent understanding flickers in Diluc's eyes.

"Listen," he begins, "I know you have deep feelings for my brother. You must realize that he can be quite oblivious at times, and he might need a little nudge in the right direction."

You let out a dry laugh. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Diluc doesn't press further. Instead, he heads toward the bar's entrance, waiting patiently for you to follow. With a grateful nod, you join him.

Your friends have finished their drinks during the time you spent outside smoking, and Kaeya and Rosaria are nursing another round of alcoholic beverages. Rosaria seems unfazed as she downs her Death After Noon, while Kaeya squints at his remaning drink.

Lisa and Jean wave you over, and you notice they've already packed their belongings. It's clear they're ready to call it a night.

You have yet to finish your cocktail, so you insist that your two friends head home, promising them you'll text the moment you arrive home safely.

However, the drink refuses to go down, and becomes an uncomfortable lump in your throat, as you watch the friendly banter between Kaeya and Rosaria.

A surge of bitterness and jealousy rises within you as you watch Kaeya tenderly move a strand of hair from Rosaria's face. To mask the feeling, you down the remainder of your drink, trying to ignore the unpleasant taste of the beverage. You slam the empty glass on the table and stand you, swaying slightly.

"I think I'll head out. Goodnight. Enjoy the rest of your night," you mumble, voice strained.

Barely a few steps away from the bar, you feel the tears stream down your face. In an attempt to stifle your sobs, you retrieve another cigarette and light it up.

Walking down the cobbled street, a lone raindrop lands on your nose, and the wind begins to pick up. You hadn't brought an umbrella with you.

That night, you allow the heavy rainfall to drench you, letting it numb your other senses, providing a temporary solace from the turmoil in your heart.

Author's note: not exactly proofread, sorry 😋 will probably do that sometime over the week

Smoking is bad kids, I say as I discard yet another empty pack of cigarettes 🤡🤡

#genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin imagines #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #kaeya imagines #genshin angst #kaeya angst #request

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sunnysideprincess · 5 months

Text

There is tension brewing in the right wing of science department. The rumours talk of Professor Stark being ridiculously reckless about his experiments again. But that's just hot air. MJ knows this. He's a meticulous person when it comes to them blowing things up in the lab. And a little too wire brained about his students' safety. He walks barefoot when working with heavy equipment. But he sent Harley to detention for handling glass tubes without his safety gloves.

It's a part of the package of Professor Stark's "science bros" experience and the few select of them have wholeheartedly committed themselves to it.

Well, there's also the other thing they've committed themselves to. And it must be why half the school is talking about the return of hot firemen trio.

"I hear the blond one is married to coach Carter?"

"Miss Sharon? Eugh! Aren't they like— related?"

"No! For the last time, Kate, they just look similar!"

"Still, ew. I heard he used to have hots for our principal."

"Okay, I did not know about that."

Foolish children, MJ snorts and opens the group chat.

"Who was it this time?"

Peter's reply is quick. She will forever be jealous of his ability to type without even looking at the screen. It is insanely unfair.

"Gwen."

MJ grins and ducks behind her book to avoid the questioning looks from her study group. But Kamala and Kate are too busy comparing the merits of Coach Sharon and Mister Blond Fireman. And Yelena is just snoring on the table with her hand stuck inside Kate's hoody.

Amateurs. Also, weirdoes.

"Miles says it was his turn though," Peter sends again, followed closely by Miles' ", IT WAS 😫".

Gwen just flips them all the bird, and then goes offline. To either plead for her innocence or keep a close eye on their job.

Nearly half an hour later, she sends them all a picture.

In it Professor Stark is standing with his arms crossed, looking smug about something. While the hot, blond fireman is adorably flushed and a little bit embarrassed.

"He bet that Tony couldn't state even one fire safety rule," she adds below the picture. Then adds a little smug grin and ", he listed ten".

"I call enemies to lovers."

Everyone sends Pav the side eye and MJ almost hits enter on "why do we need to put a genre on their romance" before deleting the entire sentence. She doesn't need a redo of Banner-Odinson drama in the group. Nobody does.

"Guys guys," Miles suddenly adds and MJ's eyes grow wide reading the next text.

"Sarge just tried to flirt with Tony and guess who got jealous," Hobie adds and—oh no.

"Hobie!!!!"

"Too slow, sorry 😎" Then he signs off on them.

"Wait," MJ asks, just to give Miles another chance. "Which one's Sarge?"

Miles sends a picture. In it, a beefy, long haired brunette is slouching next to Tony, a smarmy smile on his face while the hot blond is stoically staring at the wall.

"Isn't he the guy who's shacking up with our councellor?"

"Yep," Miles adds then. "🤔 Maybe he's inviting Tony for a three way?"

"Like a poly thingy," Pav asks and MJ can almost smell the incoming barrage of texts from him.

"Omg, guys 🫢

That would be so cute though! 💖

Professor would be like the small, adorable filling in their sandwich!"

"Erm."

"What even????"

"Pav, no."

"But what about Steve?"

"Wait..."

And then they all ask, simultaneously, because her friends are all idiots.

"Who's Steve?"

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ikkosu · 1 month

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REST

mouse-verse

"It's barely even ten, mouse — is that coffee on your table?"

YOU brought up the disposable cup : pale parchment rimmed with green and wagged it a little for him to see. The liquid sloshed and steam flared from the muddled veneer. Where he stood, teetering in front of your desk, his frown deepened — then, he sighed.

"I understand the forcefield parameter needs reforming. And, I understand it's not an easy task to manage. But the only thing you're working towards to, here, is killing yourself." He nudged it away from his periphery. "You hunkered down on two cups, already?"

"It's only around five milligrams of caffeine." You set it down; tack on your desk, frowning when it left a brown spot.

He pressed a digit against his temple, possibly to soothe the incoming migraine straining his circuits. "Adults are advised to consume at least less than four hundred a day. You've consumed double the quota."

" Less doesn't keep me awake." You stand up, trotting towards a metal rimmed cabinet holstered by left side of the wall.

"Less, keeps you alive." He scowls. "Don't think I'm not aware of what you've been doing up these recent nights. Those concealer under your eyes aren't so subtle, mouse."

You chuffed, sorting through the files. "Alright then, mister preacher. If you get to have a say then I do as well : how about the cubes of 'engex' I found tucked under your desk, hm? Not so preaching anymore, huh."

Prowl turns sharply away; his door wings pike up and you smiled. "Those are non-alcoholic. You brewed them, yourself."

"Indeed, I did." You grabbed a plastic bag. "And guess how much caffeine i've docked inside the engex?"

Prowl turns back, gritting his teeth. Smug brat. "Don't change the subject, mouse.You and I both know I've dealt with far worse and a little lack of recharge isn't going to kill me. Which stands to reason, your body needs rest or the base is going to scour for another scientist that's at least not hell bent on killing herself."

"Already decided."

"Excuse me?" Prowl watches as you wrangle out a folded cushion from the bag: teal green of color, and rolled it across the floor.

You shrugged off your lab coat and underneath is a soft white tee with a modest neckline. Prowl isn't sure whether to turn away or keep looking.

"What are you doing." He says dryly.

You sat on the cushion, giving the spot beside you a prim pat. "We're at a stalemate. How about we counter the assault by caving in to a truce?"

Prowl stares at you for a moment, likely contemplating the need for fresh air through the open door, or the prospect of copping himself up inside your laboratory. Alone, together.

Doesn't seem so bad.

The cushion dips and cool metal curls around the side of your waist before pitting you close to his chassis. A warm kind of thrum pulses throughout your body and one servo molds against your cheek, cool to the touch, thumb on the plush of your lips.

Prowl tries not to sound amused through his solemn reverie. "If that's your suggested strategy, then I wouldn't want to know what many more would come if ever you're to take reign of the battle field."

You grinned and gave the digit a peck "What can I say, officer? I did look for both logic and reason."

"It's still not very strategic." He murmers and his lips find the crook of your neck, nose a soft nestle against your jawline as he kisses it.

"Rest."

#mouse-verse #prowl x reader #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #idw prowl #Idw prowl x reader #prowl #fluff

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roohuh · 1 year

Text

Amortentia

Part 3 of year Six in Obliviate

Ominis X MC

Summary: It’s time to make Amortentia in class! Need I say more?

Warnings: just floof

“Alright class, settle down. This year we are starting with Amortentia, so that no one will ask me ‘when we are doing Amortentia?’A couple things to get out of the way before we start. One. I will not be telling anyone what I smell. Two. I don’t care what you smell as long as you do not smell too much and I have to send you to the hospital wing. Three. The only person you should be talking to is your lab partner, so you can discuss on your own time what you smell. Turn page 394 and begin.” Professor Sharp speaks with hands clasped behind his back pacing to his desk. As he sits he adds one more thing,

“And this should go without saying but I will say it anyways, if any of you tries to smuggle even a drop of that out of this classroom everyone will have 100 inches to turn in by tomorrow about how dangerous and harmful this potion is.” Turning to Ominis you shrug,

“Well, here's hoping you smell me.” Ominis laughs blushing, opens his textbook, and articulates in a quiet and bashful voice.

“I think I will smell…your shampoo, the faint smell of earth you always seem to have on your hands from tending to all of your Dittany plants, and maybe a hint of the highland breeze that you smell like when you are back from flying.” At his words your heart begins to pound and you can feel the heat rising to your ears. Busying yourself you flip open your book turning hastily to the page. All around you hushed giggle spring up and constant whispering as everyone guesses who the other will smell. Sebastian, who is wildly displeased about losing Ominis as a lab partner, glares at poor Garreth who was kind enough to take the Slytherin on. Ominis is a very efficient lab partner preparing all of the ingredients while you monitor the potion. The two of you make a great team as he is always willing to oblige and happily takes your instruction.

“Poor professor sharp looks absolutely dismal over there nose buried in a book. You would think if he didn’t want to teach it he would just leave it out of the class altogether.” You chuckle to Ominis.

“It sounds like he did not want to hear about it all semester. Practically every year there is a sixth year whose heart gets broken over someone smelling someone, or someone els not smelling the someone, but every year they all beg him for this chapter. It really is a silly thing.” Studying Ominis’ calm features you wonder if that is trepidation or contempt in his voice.

“Well I wonder who’s heart will be broken this year. I’ve heard Garreth is sweet on Imelda but poor chap has no chance. Way too clumsy!” You shake your head knowingly. Handing you a crushed shiver fig Ominis remarks,

“Well I guess we will find out soon enough as this is the last ingredient.” Dropping the fruit into your cauldron you stir intently watching the stew. Since the potion is very time sensitive as each station reaches this point the pair of students goes quiet as they carefully monitor their brew, not wanting to be the group who messes it up and doesn’t get to smell anything. The atmosphere is deathly still until Sebastian drops a stack of books on his desk laughing like a maniac as the room collectively jumps from the loud sound. Professor Sharp smirks watching the students jump, this time not reprimanding Sebastian for his constant Tom foolery. Ominis lets out an annoyed “Ass.” Not having fallen for the trick himself, as he is used to loud unexpected sounds, but felt you jump a foot in the air ready for a fight.

“Ah it’s time!” Clapping your hands together you exclaim as the potion turns from a deep red to a shimmering white. Gingerly you take the potion off the heat, stirring continuously; Ominis waits with bated breath to hear if it has turned the correct color.

“Looks perfect.” You let out a sigh of relief, as you slow your stirring. You inhale the scent instantly recognizing the smell; with great effort you step away from the potion trying to breathe in fresh air. Curiously your eyes flicker to Ominis, who also got a good whiff of the potion, and now has a satisfied smile crossing his face,

“Exactly as I suspected.” He remarks casually, before you can respond Professor Sharp approaches your Cauldron looking down at the liquid.

“Very good. Clean your station and you are dismissed.” Fighting the urge to take another long deep sniff you wave your wand over the cauldron vanishing the liquid. Ominis does the same and the station puts itself back in order. Sebastian strolls over to you and Ominis his own secretive smile adorning his face,

“Well did you two smell each other or what?” Unable to look at either of the boys due to your furious blushing, eyes forward you walk out of the classroom. Ominis matches your pace asking in a hushed hopeful whisper,

“What did you smell?”

“Your dewy warm calonge, which always lingers on my robes after you hug me. The hair gel you use that smells faintly like cinnamon and vanilla, the box Bertie Bott's Beans you always keep tucked in your robes, parchment, and the musty air in the Undercroft.” Biting your lip you sneak a glance over to Ominis whose eyes are shining with a wide grin painted across his features. A tender hand takes hold of your own but instead of walking to your next class he pulls you down a hall and out into a small secluded courtyard.

“We are going to be late.” You mumble shyly as he pulls you into his arms.

“I don’t mind, do you?” Giving you a mischievous smile he kisses your forehead. Closing your eyes you fold into his embrace swathed in all of your favorite smells. Head pressed to his chest you can hear how fast his heart is beating despite the confident calm demeanor he is trying to project. At the sound of Sebastian rounding a corner in search of you, Ominis pulls you into a doorway in an effort to conceal your presence. He wants to linger in this moment a while longer, savoring the feeling of you in his arms.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #harry potter hogwarts game #hogwarts legacy ominis #fanfic #ominis x you #ominis fluff #sebastian sallow

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beefromanoff · 7 months

Text

Project Mockingbird Ch. 5

summary: Natasha and Bruce have different ideas on how to help Charlotte. Natasha's way wins.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: let me know what you think! thanks for reading, xox!

tag list: @bangtanxberm (let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

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Sunlight filtered through the tinted windows, casting delicate shadows across the sterile white walls of the hospital wing. Charlotte blinked, the soft hum of machinery and distant chatter gradually pulling her back to consciousness. The events of the previous day flooded her mind, the endless battery of tests and experiments, the barrage of questions from Dr. Banner and Tony Stark, the scabs around her wrists from the restraints she’d thrashed into.

Still not the worst place I’ve woken up.

Her eyes flicked to the state-of-the-art equipment surrounding her. Tubes and monitors blinked with clinical precision, their data feeding into sleek screens that could display a myriad of complex graphs and charts. Even with all the screens dark, all the tubes and wires hanging limp off of them, the environment made her skin crawl. She was acutely aware of the high-tech lab setting, a stark contrast to the comfort of her own room in the compound.

One night. I only got to enjoy it for one night before all this shit caught up with me.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, attempting to steady her racing thoughts. They found the problem. She reminded herself, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the crisp hospital sheet. They’re the best scientists in the world. How hard can it really be to fix if we found the problem in one day?

After hours and hours of testing, scanning, and an ultimate hail-mary experiment with the man himself -- they’d discovered that her violent aversion to James Barnes was linked to certain olfactory triggers. The implications of this breakthrough raced through her mind. She remembered fragments of her time with HYDRA, but the conditioning had taken place so early, so long ago. It was the first thing they did to her. That was one of the bigger question marks she had about what was done to her.

As she stirred in the hospital bed, she anticipated their return, eager to get started so she could get the hell out of here. She longed for the day when she could walk around the compound, or the world, without the looming dread of her own actions. Yet, beneath the anticipation lingered a sliver of apprehension, a fear of the unknown. What if this doesn’t work? What if they screwed me up too much?

With a sigh, she shifted her gaze to the ceiling. Despite her fears, she clung to the possibility of a future unburdened by the shackles of her conditioning.

In the daze of her worry, the room's atmosphere shifted from anticipation to warmth. The door slid open, and in walked Natasha, her arms laden with an impressive assortment of breakfast items. Behind her, a younger brunette who Charlotte recognized as Peter Parker, carried an impressive tower of pancakes, while Steve balanced a tray stacked with an array of pastries.

"Surprise!" Natasha announced, plopping down on the foot of the bed.

Charlotte couldn't help but smile, the knot of tension in her chest loosening at the heartfelt gesture and friendly faces. "Wow, you weren’t kidding.”

“We don’t joke about food around here.”

With practiced efficiency, they transformed her hospital bed into a makeshift banquet table, the three of them pulling chairs up beside the bed. The room was soon filled with the mouthwatering aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the sweet scent of syrup, and the comforting richness of pastries. All sterile scents had long since been forgotten.

Whether their plan was to distract her or they were just a naturally chatty group, Charlotte didn’t know nor care. As she picked apart the biggest blueberry muffin she’d ever seen, Peter launched into yet another story about his college life.

“I told him, sir, please - I was literally stopping a bank from being robbed, he still wouldn’t let me retake the test! I mean come on, it’s art history. Who even decided that art history was a necessary college course! He’s just out to get me, I swear.” He paused to take a gulp of orange juice.

Natasha laughed and reached for the last piece of bacon. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

The conversation was easy, the trio clearly comfortable with each other. Charlotte was perfectly content to sit back and listen, savoring one of the few meals that was actually close to satiating her endless appetite.

Just as Peter opened his mouth to speak again, the door slid open. A disheveled Dr. Banner, stood holding a tablet, looking like he hadn’t slept at all since she saw him last. "Hi, good morning, I uh, think I've found a solution," he announced, his voice carrying a note of cautious optimism. “Is that coffee?”

Charlotte's heart skipped a beat. Hope surged within her, mingling with a thread of trepidation. Steve poured Bruce a cup of coffee which he graciously accepted.

With a deep breath, she nodded, her voice steady despite feeling the exact opposite on the inside. "Let's do it. Whatever you think."

“Okay, I’ve run through this every way I can imagine, making sure I’m considering everything. All in all, it seems like a simple fix. I mean, it makes sense, if we look at the timeline of…well, it wouldn’t exactly have been advanced technology they used. So it seems incredibly simple, but for the time, it would have been a massive breakthrough,” He was careful with his words, trying to avoid anything too callous, despite his obvious excitement about the discovery.

The sterile white walls of the room seemed to close in on Charlotte as she listened to Dr. Banner's explanation. His voice felt distant, overshadowed by the memories of past experiments and the cold, clinical environment of laboratories she had desperately tried to forget. Her eyes must have glazed over as she fought against the rising panic in her chest as the words surgery and minimally invasive floated through her stupor.

"I understand your concerns, Charlotte," Bruce said gently, his eyes filled with empathy. "But this procedure is straightforward. It'll be quick, and you won't feel a thing. We'll make sure you're comfortable and safe the entire time."

Steve placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Bruce is right," he said, his tone steady and calming. "We're here for you. This will be over before you know it. You’re in great hands here.”

Despite Steve's comforting words, anxiety clawed at Charlotte's chest. The very idea of another medical procedure triggered a visceral reaction, a surge of fear rooted deep in her past traumas. Just as panic threatened to overwhelm her, Natasha spoke, her piercing eyes locked onto Charlotte's.

"Do you trust me?" Natasha asked, her voice calm, but there was an intensity in her gaze that demanded an honest answer.

Charlotte met her eyes, finding solidarity in the closest thing she had to a friend. She nodded slowly. "I do," she replied, her voice a whisper.

“Peter, move the food.”

He cocked an eyebrow, but immediately gathered the few trays left on the bed and relocated them to a table in the corner of the room.

Without warning, Natasha's hand shot out, the heel of her palm colliding with Charlotte's nose in a swift, controlled motion. Pain exploded through Charlotte's face, and her head snapped back, shock and confusion flooding her senses. Blood gushed from her nose, hot and sticky.

In the stunned silence that followed, Charlotte felt a strange sensation, like a fence around her mind had been torn down. Once the initial shock subsided, Charlotte let out a disbelieving laugh, the metallic taste of blood on her tongue.

"Thank you," she said to Natasha, her eyes shimmering with tears, only half from the blow. "That was…preferable."

“I figured.” Nat winked, squeezing her shoulder. I knew I liked her.

“Well, could you at least let me clean it up a bit?” Bruce winced, handing her a wad of tissues and squinting to examine the damage. Charlotte tilted her head back and applied pressure, blood immediately soaking and reducing them to a soggy, crimson mess.

“Hang on,” Her voice came out thick as a result of her mangled nose. Cupping it on either side, Charlotte took a deep breath and yanked. The crunch of the reset made all three men grimace, with Peter gasping as he covered his face. “Okay, I think I did that right. It’s been a while.”

She noticed their horrified looks as she wiped a trail of blood off her upper lip. “What, you’ve never had to reset a broken nose before?”

“We uh, usually leave that part to the professionals.” Steve gave a grim smile.

“Well, in my experience, the professionals only care about functionality, and you can still fight with a broken nose. Call me high maintenance, but I prefer my nose to be somewhat straight. So I picked up that little party trick.”

Even Natasha’s eyes softened, just for a moment. The nonchalance with which she spoke about her past was unnerving. It begged the question of what horrors she’d experienced that she couldn’t talk about, if these kinds of remarks seemed to roll off her tongue as easily as a story about her breakfast.

When Bruce had cleaned her up, insisting on packing her nose with cotton so it would heal correctly, the group left her alone to change into a spare Stark Industries sweatshirt that had been left in the lab.

Meanwhile, Steve strode out of the building to find Bucky. He located him in the training area, his expression focused as he sparred with Sam. Steve approached the ring, his voice carrying a note of urgency. "Bucky, we need you in the lab. It's important."

Curiosity flickered in Bucky's eyes as he lowered his hands from their defensive posture.

“It’s Charlotte. Bruce thinks he broke the conditioning.”

When they’d returned to the medical wing, they paused before turning down the hall to her room, waiting for a signal. As an added precaution, Charlotte had insisted on being restrained again, although she didn’t argue when they said the IV would be unnecessary this time. Wrist strapped down, electrodes taped to her head and chest, and the glowing model of her brain projected in the corner of the room, she nodded to Dr. Banner.

“Alright, Steve, we’re good to go. Come on in, Buck.”

Charlotte sucked in a deep breath, aware that her heart beat was quickening by the pounding in her ears and the beeping on the monitor. She heard the methodical footsteps again, approaching her open doorway. Finally, he turned the corner.

He was as tall as Steve, slightly stockier. His dark hair had been tied back in a tiny ponytail, and the ring of sweat around the collar of his gray shirt told her he had come from a workout. His shoulders were slightly rounded, tense, as though he could spring into action at a moment’s notice. The way he stood, his left side was slightly hidden from view. Despite the shadow, the metallic glint of his arm caught her eye. Vibranium. Very painful when it hits you. Another unwelcome memory came knocking in her mind as Steve followed his friend in the room.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath. Dr. Banner, anxiously checking all the readings. Nat and Peter, hovering quietly in the corner of the room. Bucky and Charlotte as they locked eyes, far from the first time.

How many times have I seen those eyes, this face, and yet I don’t think we’ve ever actually met. Not really. Not when we’re us.

"Charlotte, this is James Bucky Barnes," Steve stepped forward, smiling softly. "Bucky, meet Charlotte Rossi."

Bucky nodded, a tight lipped smile on his face. "Nice to meet you, Charlotte."

Charlotte blushed, a reaction she hadn’t prepared for in the absence of her violent rampage. "Hi. I, uh, I'm sorry for how I acted…before," She paused, hoping he’d know she wasn’t just talking about the past two days.

“Don’t mention it.” His eyes crinkled in the corners. “Seriously.”

Bruce's eyes widened with amazement as he studied the data on his screen. "It worked!" he exclaimed, frantically pointing at the hologram, still glowing gold. He turned and embraced the closest person to him, who was a bewildered looking Peter. "We did it!"

Peter, still in a state of shock, smiled as Bruce set him back on the ground. "Didn’t doubt it for a second, Dr. Banner!”

“WOO! Yes! Oh, sorry - “ Bruce had raised his hand to high-five Charlotte before realizing her wrists were still strapped to the bed. “Let me just…okay, there you go!” He hugged her as soon as he released the second restraint, catching her by surprise.

“Oh!” She stiffened instinctively, but relaxed her shoulders to welcome his excited gesture. “Thank you, Dr. Banner…Bruce, seriously!”

“Alright, let’s not land her back in here for crushing chest wounds.” Steve chuckled, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“Ah, yes, sorry! It’s just that these things, getting a breakthrough, gah! It just gets me so jazzed.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Man, I love science.”

Bucky couldn't help but let a small smile slip through. He extended a hand toward Charlotte, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief lingering reservations. "Congratulations. This is one of the good days."

She put her hand in his and he squeezed it, quick and light, before letting go. One of the good days. The words may have seemed vague and ambiguous to everyone else, but they hit home for her. When decades of your life had been lost to a string of one bad day after the next, the good ones really stuck out. Especially when dealing with an inordinate amount of trauma, sometimes the bad days persisted even in the good times. They were unavoidable.

But today was one of the good ones.

Natasha, clearly not one for the touchy feely part, spoke up. "Well, now that you're officially not a threat to the lives of those in this room, I say we celebrate."

Peter nodded eagerly, looking at Steve who shrugged. “Yeah, sure, why not. Training will be there tomorrow.”

“Yes! I love off days, I feel like we never do anything fun anymore.” Peter pumped his fist before noticing Steve’s raised eyebrow. “I mean, not that training isn’t fun, I love training. I could train all day. You know what? I think I’ll do extra training tomorr -”

“Hush,” Natasha put her hand over his mouth. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. Steve, tell the recruits they’re working out on their own today. Finish their assigned routines and then take the afternoon off. Peter, get the football, the speaker, and the big blanket. Bruce, finish whatever report you’re itching to write about this and then log off for the day. Buck, go take a shower. You smell like sweat socks. Meet us by the lake in an hour.”

“And where are you guys going?” Steve raised an eyebrow, gesturing to both women.

Natasha grinned and started removing electrodes from the brunette, one by one.

“To get Charlotte the hell out of here.”

A little over an hour later, they traipsed down a paved path to the lake. Natasha carried a picnic basket full of snacks and drinks, although they were at most two hundred yards from the main cafeteria building. The sound of music grew louder as they approached the dock. Peter had laid out a large, thick blanket across the wooden boards, a portable speaker weighing down one of the corners.

Steve stood talking to Bucky, who’s hair was still wet from the shower. The back of his sweatshirt was decorated with pinpricks of water. The sound of shoes on the dock made them pause their conversation and turn.

“Long time no see.” Natasha thrust the picnic basket into Steve’s hands, grinning. “Barnes, you smell much better.”

“Feeling the love, Nat.” He rolled his eyes, hanging back as Steve followed her to the end of the dock. Charlotte hesitated, still a little reserved with her newfound mental autonomy. “Hey.”

“Hi,” She smiled, wincing as her nose crinkled. “Ow.”

“That looks awful.” He frowned.

“Now I’m feeling the love.” Charlotte narrowed her eyes, teasing.

“No, I mean - shit. I meant it looks painful.”

“I’m kidding. I avoided any and all mirrors on the way here. It always looks worse than it is.”

“Well, I know from experience that Nat doesn’t pull her punches, so I’m sure it didn’t tickle.” He offered a half smile, brows furrowed with concern.

“Guess I better get my mind off of it.” She pursed her lips, feeling more herself now that she didn’t fear her own actions. Bucky’s eyes scanned her face, she couldn’t tell if he was assessing the injury or really looking at her for the first time. She swore she saw his eyes linger on her mouth for just a fraction of a second.

“Guess so.”

Hours later, the sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow across the Compound. It was a perfect fall day, the air crisp, the lake sparkling under the sunlight. Truly unbeatable, especially for their day of celebration. They’d spent the afternoon talking, letting Charlotte get to know them. Although she seemed comfortable enough, Natasha had discreetly reminded them that it was still her first week in an unfamiliar place with perfect strangers. Over stories, snacks and general shit-shooting, they’d become a little further from strangers and a little closer to friends.

Just a little.

Sitting on the edge of the dock, their legs dangling over the water, Steve grinned at Peter. "Hey, Parker, you thinking what I’m thinking?" He held up the football.

Peter leapt up, landing in a crouch. "Always, Cap."

"Go long!" Steve called, his voice echoing across the water.

In a swift movement, he hurled the football with a strength that only a super-soldier possessed. It soared through the air, a perfect spiral against the backdrop of the clear sky.

Peter grinned as he launched himself into the air, shooting a web across the lake to a massive tree. He swung gracefully over the lake, his eyes locked on the football. With a perfectly timed web-shoot, he snatched it from the air, the impact making a satisfying thud against his palm.

"Nice catch, kid!" Sam called out, standing. “Damn, I knew I should have brought the wings.” He paused. “Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

Bucky walked to the edge of the dock, mock flexing his biceps. "You're not the only one with a half decent throwing arm, old man."

Steve chuckled, his competitive spirit ignited. "Let's see what you've got, Buck."

Peter dropped back on the dock with a soft thud. Charlotte and Natasha were sprawled across the blanket, leaning back on their elbows. They exchanged an amused glance at the show of testosterone.

Holding his hand out for the football, Bucky strode to the edge of the dock. He shot Steve an arrogant look before turning and hurling the football. It cut through the air, disappearing almost instantly.

“Oh, shit!” Peter stumbled over his feet as he leapt to chase after the football.

“I got it!” A gust of wind blew through across the dock, ruffling everyone’s hair. Looking up, Charlotte saw Sam soaring across the lake towards Peter and the long-disappeared football.

“Dammit, Bruce never came out here, did he?” Natasha narrowed her eyebrows. “Oh well, his loss.”

“Okay, you had a head start.” Peter protested as he dropped back on the dock beside Sam, who held the football like a trophy.

“Whatever stops the tears, kid.”

The friendly competition between super soldiers intensified over the next hour, each determined to outdo the other.

“Alright, I think I’m warmed up now.” Bucky's blue eyes looked mischievous as he glanced back at the girls, a teasing smirk playing on his lips before he released the football with all his strength.

The ball sailed through the air, Sam and Peter taking off after it. Sam got there faster, but Peter's acrobatic finesse won the day. He caught the football mid-air, swinging back to the dock where he immediately collapsed on his back. "I tap out, guys! I need a break."

Natasha smirked. "Getting old, Spidey?"

Peter feigned offense, panting dramatically. "Not all of us are super soldiers!"

Chuckling, Steve clapped a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Good job, Pete. You earned the break."

"I must be getting soft, letting the kid beat me." Sam shook his head, landing beside them.

“Alright, this pissing contest was getting old anyways.” Natasha stood to her feet. “I’m thinking pizza and shitty action movies for the next phase of our day off. Yes?”

“Yes,” Charlotte joined her. “I’m starving.”

They packed up and headed back for their building, Nat making a point to linger at the back of the group. She raised an eyebrow at Bucky. "If I didn't know any better, Barnes, I'd say you were trying to impress our newest addition."

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” She mocked innocence.

“Try to play matchmaker, like always.”

“She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, sure, she’s pretty.” He gave her a dirty look. “But she was also hell bent on ripping my head off until, oh yeah, this morning.”

Natasha shrugged. “That was then.”

Groaning, Bucky shook his head. “I think she’s got more on her mind than finding a date to the prom.”

“Hm, prom sounds like fun. Maybe we should have one here.” She winked.

“You’re impossible.”

#james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier #winter solider x reader

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chocogi · 1 year

Text

Alchemist’s Assistant pt2 here

In which I got bored and forced Albedo to find a Skychild in Dragonspine

Albedo sighs, the wind whipping through his ashy blond locks. He tugs his coat closer by habit; he does not feel the cold.

He ducks into Starglow Cavern to avoid the snowstorm, before looking around absentmindedly for mint samples. There was something he needed to confirm, and he wanted to brew mint tea, or maybe make mint jelly as well, to indulge in.

He hums quietly, pulling out the mint stalks from the snow-covered ground and whisking them away to a small pocket dimension where he kept his weapon.

It’s.. peaceful here today, Albedo thought. Too peaceful. Has something happened? The alchemist sighs, his breath puffing into mist in the cold air.

Starglow Cavern was quiet today. Too quiet.

Shivering by the strange ice shard at the bottom of the cavern, The skychild stayed curled up by one of the red seelie’s court, cursing at its luck. One last time, it built up its energy to amplify its voice, and it let out a fully charged call.

Honk!

The call reverbrates through the cavern, but soon fades. It whimpers, scooting closer to the seelie court. Out of the fourteen wing charges its cloak can store, it only had six left.

The skychild doubts it can stretch those wing charges to get itself all the way to the entrance of the cavern. Especially not with it wearing the Chibi Mask that the Hide and Seek spirit gifted them.

The fur collar sown on its inner shirt can only do so much as to keep it warm.

The call echoes through the spacious cavern, and Albedo suppresses a flinch. What was that?

Summoning a sword with a gold handguard and blue highlights on both the hilt and the blade itself, Albedo starts to trek downwards, to where the call has originated.

The sword— Cinnabar Spindle— glinted under the light reflected by the snow.

The snow crunches underneath Albedo’s feet.

He wonders what’s down there. Was the call the reason why there’s no monsters here today?

The snowstorm rages behind him.

The small skychild shiver by the seelie court, flinching harshly when it hears something akin to a surprised hum. It scrambles away from the seelie court— immediately mourning the loss of the bit of warmth— with a shriek, mindlessly using the last six wing charges in a quick burst to propel itself to the top of the strange ice shard.

It whines, pained, from the sudden cold.

The source of the sound— a young man with ashen blond hair, a star on his throat and wearing a white, customized lab coat— looked surprised for a second, before he settled back to a calm face.

He steps closer. The snow crunches under his boots. The child scoots back ever-so-slightly.

He goes closer, till he’s by the base of the ice shard and it can’t back away unless it wants to wfall.

“Hello there..” He cooes gently. “I am Albedo. May I know your name?”

It does not answer, in a mixture of fear and confusion.

“Come on, let’s get you down from there…” Albedo mutters, purposefully using slow movements as he tries to reach up to it. “Come on, little thing, slide down to me. Why are you here?” He tries, but it whimpers and curls into a ball, afraid. Albedo does not look like its kin.

Albedo sighs, his breath clouding over in the cold. He backs away before using his elemental skill, placing a Solar Isotoma at the base of the ice shard. He steps on the Isotoma and it pulses, before it rises, carrying Albedo along. The skychild shrieks and instinctually move away, but Albedo refuses to be discouraged.

He extends his hand to it.

“Don’t be afraid, little thing. I won’t hurt you.”

Albedo cooes at the fearful child gently, patiently holding out his palm, waiting for it to take his hand.

“Come here.” It hesitates.

Albedo smiles, and summons a white, thin twig from Khemia, earning himself a gasp from the cloaked youth, as it scoots closer to touch it.

Its pale fingertips brush the fragile leaf by the tip of the twig, and its eyes widen as the twig starts to fade into chalk.

It scrambles to his hand, trying to cup its hands around the dissolving twig but when it peeks back in, the twig is nothing but chalk coating its hands. The child visibly wilts.

He chuckles, patting its head and summoning another twig. The skychilds perks up, letting out little squeaks and calls as it tries to keep it from disintegrating.

Albedo smiles at the enigma before him, before extending his hand closer to it again. And immediately, its filled with the hesitation it had from before.

But it takes his hand.

And Albedo waits by the entrance of Starglow Cavern, by a fire, waiting for the snowstorm to end with a buzzing, warm skychild on his lap.

#thoughtless meja #genshin impact #genshin #albedo genshin #genshin albedo #genshin impact drabbles #sky cotl #sky cotl drabble #genshin x reader #im bored. im supposed to be memorizing a speech

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witch-hazels-musings · 2 years

Text

for you, I would

warning: comfort / fluff , reader suffers slight injury, friends to lovers (pre-relationship focused) includes: Albedo (alchemy accident), Childe (sparing injury), Diluc (cut), Xiao (sprained ankle) character x gn reader | anthology

request: Reader hurts themselves (cut on the hand while cooking, injury during sparing practice, twisted ankle, ect) || a-n: Albedo’s is in present tense? (idk sometimes I just start and make things up as I go -- nothing is planned -- brain go brr how it wants to)

Albedo

Albedo works hard to make sure the lives around him are better, to improve their quality of life through research, advancements, breakthroughs

he never imagined his mind would be filled with worry for anyone other than his family, but he finds himself slipping you into that mold - there’s a desire to care for you, to think of you, and attend to things he wouldn’t in others

he’s not sure why - but he’s learning

There was a commotion in the research lab. It’s not unheard of since volatile concoctions are often brewed in the research wing of the Favonius headquarters, but it seemed far more lively today as people shout and dash through the halls to get aid from one of the churches healers.

Albedo, who had been busy in the library for most of the morning, returned to find the lab in disarray. “What happened?” he asked, curiosity slipping across his face as he scans the room and notices the black scorch mark on the back wall. His heart strains uneasily as he recalls who normally sits there.

“There was an accident. Apparently the chemicals were mixed improperly in their container and well ... someone was hurt.” Albedo, with his calm and even expression noticed the notebooks which have practically disintegrated by the chemical reaction, turned without gathering more information and headed toward the recuperation wing.

“A-ouch.”

“Apologies. It’ll only take another minute,” the healer explained as they wrapped the burn on your arm. The pressure of the cloth made your eyes water, but the salve they put on moments before was already working to numb the slight throb. Mostly, you were relieved to be as far away from the research lab as possible. Getting injured was one thing, but being fussed over by that many people was too much to handle.

“Excuse me,” you heard a voice behind the curtain. It’s patient, calm, and familiar tone told you who it was long before the owner appeared in your isolated corner of the room. “y/n?” Albedo called out, hand pushing against the thick curtain, hair slightly out of place. Did he run here?

“Albedo, hi.” He made his way toward you, not paying much attention to the healer except to nod a hello. His eyes drifted to the bandage on your arm before scanning the rest of your body. “Is there something you needed?” He doesn’t respond, but you give him time too anyway.

The way he looked you over was intense. His gaze drifted from spot to spot, lingering a bit longer than you expected on the parts of your body no longer covered by clothes. Nervously, you pulled the blanket you were offered earlier over your legs.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked, but you noticed an oddness in his tone. Albedo was always kind to those around him, you do you your best not to think too much about it when it’s direct toward you. Still, you felt your cheeks warm at the hint of concern you heard, and your foolish heart building its hopes up.

“I’m okay. It’s just a small burn,” the healer tucked the cloth into itself, clipping it in place before the two of you watch them collect their items and leave through the curtain. Antsy from all the sudden attention, you began to fuss with the bandage before continuing, “they said it should be fully healed in a few days. As long as I keep using this um - cream,” you lifted the small tin in your hands, “it shouldn’t leave any scars.” With a slight smile you hoped to reassure him but his lips have been turned down since he arrived. A strange expression for the normally kind face he wears.

“I am pleased to hear that.” he utters with a sigh of relief, and you start to see hints of the normal Albedo on his face again. “Would you mind sharing what happened?”

As if you knew what he was looking for, you explained in great detail what steps you took and how they ended up causing the type of reacting they did. In hindsight, you should have trusted your instinct when you felt something was off. Ammonium dichromate doesn’t tend to have rich, golden flecks in it, and the moment the warm minerals came into contact with slow dripping water, you realized what compound had accidently found it’s way into the orange filled glass.

Albedo was attentive as you relayed the information, even more so when you explained how you narrowly ducked out of the way in time after catching a whiff of the gas before the containers exploded and the reaction spread across your work station. You were lucky, considering everything that could have gone horribly wrong. “Next time, I’ll double check the ingredients before pressing forward.”

“I see.” Albedo didn’t say much throughout your explanation, but that wasn’t unusual. What was curious to you was the way he stared, lingered, obsessed over your arm. It was a small burn, but the fixation his eyes had on the off-color bandage made you fidget.

“I’ll return shortly if you’re worried about losing time-”

“It’s alright, you should rest.”

“I’m really okay.”

“I insist. After an event such as this, your body is still processing. Once your adrenalin fades, you may be prone to exhaustion or clouded judgement. There is no need to rush back to your work, we can attend to it on our own for now.”

“I don’t want to cause more work for others,” you attempted to explain but Albedo cut you off.

“It is no additional work you place on the shoulders of others.” Albedo had moved closer to you during your conversation, his hands seemed to itch to touch the bandage on your arm and though your heart beat wildly at the idea, you gave him permission without saying a thing. You could sense him, smell him - the scent of chalk and paper, soft vanilla mixing with his studious activities - you could feel his warmth as he touched your arm. You wondered for so long if your feelings for Albedo were just admiration for his intelligence, his kindness, but, in this moment, you finally understood what you’d neglected all along.

You loved him.

Your eyes drifted to his and though it made your cheeks burn, you held strong. When he spoke, and his stare met your own, you forgot how to breathe, “It’s more important for you to recover today so you may be refreshed tomorrow.”

“I guess your right ... ah, well, I’m sure you’d tell anyone the same thing,” you added the last comment as if it were a shield for your feelings. This concern over you wasn’t because you were special, you were just like everyone else to Albedo, it was important you discovered that now - or so you told yourself.

“Perhaps, but,” he continued, voice growing softer as he spoke, “but for you, I find myself reacting with a strangeness I have yet to understand. I-If you would give me more time, I believe I can discern an answer.”

Albedo’s eyes were steady, focused while yours were lost in a search without an end. It seemed so clear to you now that you knew what if felt like to hold feelings for another person. How long had it been since it was difficult to breathe, since it was a struggle to think or reason all because of some fluttering pull of your affections for another? If there was any hope he might find himself to feel the same ... you were willing to take those odds.

“Alright,” you replied but before either of you could continue to dive deeper into this discovery of yours, the healer made their way back into the room and the two of you were left stealing glances at the other until they were gone.

Childe

the day he met you he was hooked; like a fish on the line he prayed you’d reel him in, and like a diligent fish does, it ensures his line doesn’t fray

Childe didn’t worry over every little thing but his eyes kept a vested interest in your safety and if you needed someone next to you, well he didn’t mind joining you for a day ... or many

“Keep your head up!” Arms crossed, you watched diligently as your students dashed around one another, smack each other with wooden swords and spears, and completely bungle the hours of instruction you provided them the day before. “Is that where up is?!” Annoyed, you stilled your tapping foot and headed their way. It would be easier to show them than it was for them to listen to your simple instructions. The only problem was, in your irritation, you forgot to tell them to stop moving and you learned that quickly be receiving a violent *whack* against your shoulder and neck.

“Teacher!” The pair of them yelled as you stumbled backward holding your worsening injury. It stung, painfully, the heat from your hand only making it worse somehow. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t - I didn’t see-”

“It’s fine,” you hissed, more angry at yourself for not telling them you were there than at them for hitting you. Swallowing the pain, you stretched your neck, rotated your shoulder blade, and reached your hand toward one of the students. They stilled, expecting punishment but found none. “Like this,” you explained by positioning them properly. Tilting their chin was easy enough but it took you a moment to position their arm and body, “In this stance you won’t lose sight of your opponent. Feel the stability in your back? The range of your sight?” They nodded and you continued, “If you keep your head and eyes locked on your target, your body will respond appropriately.” Stepping away, you let the two of them mirror each other, their eyes locked, bodies displaying strength and power where earlier they weren’t, “good. Again,” you instructed them as you stepped backward until you bumped into something sturdy. “Wh-?” Turning sharply, and regretting the action immediately, you saw a familiar face smiling at you. “Oh-”

“Hey there,” Childe beamed, his hands finding your arm as you turned to face him.

“Hiya,” you replied, unconsciously rubbing your neck. It stung so much you were certain it would leave a bruise. “What brings you ... here?” Stumbling over your words wasn’t an uncommon thing with Childe. He somehow managed to make you trip over yourself like no one else ever did, but this time you had a more valid excuse. The pain in your shoulder, the creeping tightness in your neck, was making it hard to focus, and talk.

“To see my favorite sparing instructor, of course.” he explained with a bright smile, eyes playful but devious.

“Mmm, you might have to come back tomorrow. I have a lot of students today.” You tried to turn toward the four pairs of sparing matches happening just behind you but it hurt too much so you gave up. “You know it’s first come firs-wh-what are you doing?” You stumbled backward but became entangled in Childe’s grip. His fingers pressed against your lower back, face drew closer to your own as he pulled your hand away from the growing bruise on your skin. You caught a whiff of him and it made you dizzy.

“This doesn’t look so good.”

“It’s not that ba-ouch-” his touch made you wince. Did he do that on purpose?

“Come with me.”

“W-Childe, I still have my student--hey!” He slipped behind you and pushed you forward but not before yelling back to the group to finish up their sets and take a break. Since when did he become the teacher here?

“Sit.” He instructed but practically forced you to comply. The tent blocked the sun but not the wind, which you were glad about since it became rather stuffy in the small space.

“It’s really fine, Childe. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“An injury like this could become serious.” He explained and set down a small plate full of random medical supplies. “If you’d like,” he began, a ring in his voice as he spoke, “I could tie you up, and then you’d have to do what I say.”

Your heart skipped so many beats you wondered if you would pass out but, luckily, your stubbornness kept you grounded, “--n-no,” you mumbled, cheeks burning and eyes avoiding as he laughed at your reply.

“The other would be more fun -”

“NO!” you shouted, louder than you intended and with the sudden burst of energy you groaned at the pain while your body grew far to warm for your liking.

“I’m only joking,” he reassured you, slightly, “though, if you begged me to I could make som-ahah, alright, alright!” He succumbed to you after several sharp japs at his side shut him up. His laughter was still drifting around in the tent while you worked to steady your beating heart. It was unfair how easily he could toy with your emotions, and even more painful that he could touch you without losing himself to the sensation.

You sighed at the cool relief of the salve he rubbed gently over your shoulder and neck. Letting your head drift to your left shoulder, you let him work the mixture over your exposed skin until the burning heat had subsided into a tingling cool.

“How’s that?”

“Great.” Even with your eyes closed, you could have sworn you heard the smile he shared with you but maybe it was just your imagination working overtime. You were becoming lost in his touch, distracted, mailable, comfortable by the way his palms worked your skin, by the way his fingers ran across your body and the heat from him stretched toward your legs to let you know how close he was to you. “Mmm.”

He was making you lost within yourself but suddenly the sensation changed as he moved from working the salve into your skin to undoing your shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking for other injuries.”

“I don’t have any.”

“I’ll be the jud-”

“Childe!” You slapped his hand away, grabbed your shirt and stared daggers at his amused face. His laughter in all it’s glory, head tossed back, hand pressed against his stomach, told you this was just a joke to him and somewhere in your simple heart your felt cheated. “Stop teasing me,” you begged, more desperate than you wanted to sound. It hurt again so you made a move to leave but he stopped you before you could escape the shade of the intimate tent.

His grip was strong but kind, his hand only gripping your wrist with enough pressure to keep you still, “You shouldn’t leave yet.”

“I have to. My students are waiting -”

“I can work with them.”

“You?” You looked up at him but all you saw was a serious expression, one you knew you’d never be able to change. “... fine, but only until for a few hours.” He smirked, happy to know he won over you, again.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be too harsh on them.”

“Mmhm.”

“And besides,” he started even though he was already headed out the door, “for you, I’d do whatever you asked of me.”

“By the archons, just -” you waved at him and he laughed loudly at your frantic desperation to get him to leave. He was too much for your heart; it was unfair how easily he held you captive and how painful it was to know you’d never be more than a friend to him.

“... listen up, I’ll be taking over for the rest of the day ...” Childe’s voice drifted on the wind while you moved the items from the medical kit back into it’s block. “... oh, y/n’s a bit tied up right now,” at his words you tripped over the stool you were sitting on moment before. As you struggled to lift yourself off the ground, you thought of all the ways you could get away with murder.

Diluc

thinking of your safety was as easy as breathing - at times he labored over it, obsessed about it but his anxieties over you getting hurt were meant to be a burden on his shoulders alone; and this fact he would keep buried inside for as long as he could

there were times he would fuss, offer his support more than you imagined he would or move in the background to get things done for you without you knowing -- all he wanted was for you to be safe

“I’m so sorry, would you give me a moment?” you asked the customer who was gazing at the glistening flowers on display while your hand cupped your arm. They looked at you with a kind smile, nodding to let know they were fine to wait. You were grateful because the cut on your arm was starting to seep into your sleeve and the pain was becoming unbearable to handle. “Thank you,” you said with a smile before weaving your way through the wooden shelves and toward the front door of the flower shop.

Luckily it was a slow day today so you didn’t have to worry about holding anyone up from getting their orders. Still, you were mad at yourself for not paying attention to your surroundings. Why you thought placing the sheers in such a way that they’d point directly toward whoever walked by them was a mystery. Ultimately, you blamed it on your distracted thoughts. It was starting to become annoying the amount of times you thought about him, and now it was making you hurt yourself.

With a sigh, you shouldered the door to the back room open but soon realized it would be difficult to get the cabinet door open so you could grab the medical box. It was even more inconvenient when you heard the entry chime ring out signaling a customer had just come inside. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” you called out while grabbing a dirt covered towel from the table and wrapping it around your arm. Once secured, you wiped your hands over the apron at your waste, moved to reach the medical box but jumped when footsteps behind you caught your attention. “I’m sorry, I’ll be - o-oh - um, M-Master Diluc?”

“Are you alright?” Diluc’s sudden appearance made you falter, nearly causing you to dump the contents of the box onto the floor. He moved quickly to assist you and the unusual proximity mixed with a wave of his scent made your head spin.

Shaking your head, you tried to compose yourself but found it difficult. He was so close, his support so sturdy, if it weren’t for the reddening towel at your arm you would have blamed him for the weakness in your legs. “Yeah - yes, I’m okay. I just ... well,” you gestured to your wrapped arm with a nod and though you hardly ever seen him make physical contact with another person, you couldn’t stop yourself from fixating on the hand he kept at your back. Even when he heled take the box from your arms it lingered there.

Was it possible for blood loss to make someone hallucinate? You’d ask Sucrose later.

“Allow me.”

He offered his hand so you could sit in the wooden chair. Somehow you felt so small next to him even though that wasn’t really the case. Perhaps it was the care and tenderness he showed you that made you feel so dainty at his side; how he helped you sit, how he hovered over you but was never oppressive, how he said or asked for your permission before doing anything. It was unfair how he checked every box on your list - let me breathe for a moment, your heart pleaded.

“How did this happen?” he asked as he untied your makeshift bandage and examined the slit on your arm. His expression didn’t change but you weren’t sure if that was a good sign or not.

“My clumsiness.” When he didn’t respond you filled the space yourself, “I was working on a bouquet for Lawrence,” you began, paying close attention to Diluc’s every move. The gentle way he lifted your arm, the quick actions he took to grab the necessary items from your kit, the small shake of his head or the furrow of his brows as he worked. Eventually you had to look away or your story would have shifted from truth to an outcry of your feelings for him. “Anyway, I placed the sheers in the shelf ... pointed upward, as if that was the right thing to do, and when I leaned past them to get the Sweet Flowers, I cut myself.”

“I see.”

“It was my mistake. I just wasn’t thinking ...” you felt embarrassed about the whole thing. Mad at yourself to not being more diligent, annoyed at the distraction this had caused you, and upset that it had brought Master Diluc into the mix. He had so much on his plate ... “I really don’t want to keep you, this was my fault.”

“It’s no worry. I’m almost finished anyway.”

“Oh, well, okay ...”

The room fell silent but you didn’t mind. It was comforting to hear the rustling noises he made as he patched up your arm, the silent ways you communicated with him when you could tell he was searching for something particular. He moved so you could reach for it, his eyes following after you until they returned to the task in front of him. You were standing before him now, back pressing against the desk covered in the clutter you didn’t clean the evening before. The intimacy you felt with him was unfair, so you distracted yourself with other things.

The sound of laughter spilling in from the partly cracked window, kids going on about their day, patrons of the city greeting or falling into long discussions with each other. You wondered how things were going just outside the entrance of the flower shop.

“There,” he hummed, the sound reverberating in his chest. There was nothing more tantalizing than hearing him speak. “I can return tomorrow to see how it’s healing.” It wasn’t what you expected from him, though nothing about this interaction was really what you expected.

The sensation of his hand holding your arm, the way his touch electrified your skin, the closeness the two of you found in the quiet, tucked away back room of the shop, the quick glances you made at him and the imagined ones he made at you. If this was a dream, you certainly didn’t want to wake up. If only he knew the affect he had on you.

“I’ll be alright, you really don’t have to go that far,” you chuckled, heart fluttering at his words but knowing it was too much to ask him to do more than he already had. The cut was an accident but it made today a gift, a beautiful memory you’d never forget.

Diluc adjusted your sleeve and spoke, “For you,” he began, thumb caressing your skin and making you shiver, “I’d do far more than this.” His words were soft, quiet, you wondered if you’d misheard him.

In an attempt to play it off, or to give him an out, you wiped your palm on your clothes and flashed him a playful look, “Diluc Ragnvindr, is that a confession?” Your heart pounded in your chest. How desperate was your hope that he, Diluc, the most wanted bachelor in the city, would have feelings for you. It was a wild pipe dream, but even if you knew he would give you the straightforward answer of, no, tempting him at all made you tremble in hopeful wishes.

You were so distracted by your own nerves that you didn’t notice his fingers had stilled or how his cheeks grew redder by the second. When you finally braved yourself to look at him, the expression on his face told you more than words ever could and though you weren’t sure if it was his real voice or the voice in your desperate imaginations that said, ‘If it were?,’ all you knew was your daydreams and delusional fantasies were slowly shifting into reality.

Xiao

he always did his best to keep the darkness at bay, to fight and protect this world he protected on his own - the fact that you were in it was a reward he didn’t know he needed

it wasn’t his intention to keep a watchful eye on you, to listen so intently to the whisper on the wind for his name, he just couldn't stop himself from thinking about you, worrying about you - what were you to him, really?

It hurt. It hurt so much to walk, to move, to put pressure on the ankle you were trying so hard not to use but what were you going to do? Magically teleport somewhere safe? That was unlikely. So, you bit your cheek, leaned on the branch you found several paces back, and stepped forward.

“You can - mmm - do this,” you grimaced, a whine sliding past your lips as you stumbled forward on your swollen ankle. You wanted to sit down, you wanted to cry, you wanted to give up but mostly you wanted to get back home, to safety. It was no ones fault but your own that you were even in this mess; if you’d paid a little closer attention to your surroundings, you wouldn’t have slipped off the cliffside and twisted your ankle like you did. “Stupid,” you berated yourself as you took another painful step forward.

The sun was setting but you knew you had to continue. It was better to arrive late than to stay out in the wilderness like you were. Even with the small pack of food you had it wouldn’t be enough to keep you safe from everything that roamed in the marshes of Liyue.

A gust of wind picked up around you, the sound of it’s presence rustled the trees and irritated the water off to your right. You sensed something familiar in it but became too distracted by your snapping branch to figure out what. “Ah!” Your hands flung to steady your fall, eyes closed to prepare yourself for more pain, but you never hit the ground, you found it odd until something warm pulled you against them and a comforting scent wafted about you.

“Are you injured?” Xiao’s voice filled your ears, warmed your cheek as he breathed against your skin. It was the closest you’d ever been to him, ‘please don’t hear my heartbeat,’ you begged.

“X-Xiao-!” Quickly you tried to steady yourself. Using him as a stabilizer, you pushed away from him but kept your hands wrapped around his toned arms, foot lifted slightly off the ground to keep pressure off of it. Your ankle throbbed but not at much as your heart.

“Be careful,” Xiao gazed at you but you felt so much more than that; curse your tender heart for seeing more than what was truly there. Xiao was only being helpful, careful, kind, and yet your imagination was running away from you.

“I’m alright,” you lied, clearly, since your foot was still hovering over the ground. You noticed his eyes flicker toward your swollen, discolored leg, “I’m alright,” you whispered again, knowing he could clearly see you weren’t.

“I’ll get you to safety.”

“W-wait, it’s o-ah!” Xiao lifted you in his arms with ease. You settled against him, arms flinging around his neck to stabilize yourself, legs kicking in the air and making you wince from the sudden jolt.

“Hold onto me,” he hummed and you complied without protest.

Ver Goldet offered all her sympathy as she wrapped your ankle and instructed Smiley to make you something to ease the pain. He wasn’t the best at medical dishes, but he had enough experience to whip something simple together.

After she helped you settle onto the upper floor balcony, away from the interested eyes of onlookers, you finally began to relax just in time to see the stars shine above you.

“How are you feeling?” Xiao appeared out of thin air, a common occurrence for him. If you weren’t accustomed to it, you might have jumped, but with the comforting atmosphere, the pain in your leg easing, and the warm soup in your stomach spreading throughout your body, you hardly moved at all.

“Better,” you began, letting out a sigh of contentment as you gazed upward toward the heavens. You loved being out here at night. There was something tranquil about this place, something safe you couldn’t put your finger on. At times this place felt more homey than your own home - how strange. “Thank you, Xiao.” you hummed, the ordeals of the day pulling at your eye lids and consciousness. You would have liked to stay up a little later but that became harder and harder with every passing second.

Something was beside you, standing watch. Purple cloth fluttered against your arm and your exhausted fingers reached out to grab it. Like a small bird dancing in your peripherals, you giggled at it’s gentleness and found yourself humming along with it. From such an harsh ordeal, you were certainly finding peace on top of Wangshu Inn.

“Xiao --” you mumbled, sleep taking you bit by bit, “thank you for ... rescuing me ...” a soft smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you looked up at what you thought was him. The golden lights from inside the inn shined around his head like a halo; to you, Xiao meant so much but you were too afraid to tell him.

After the quiet breezed lulled you into sleep, Xiao took perch on the edge of the day-bed the owners set up for you. He made sure your hands were settled against your stomach, that your head was resting well on the pillows surrounding you, that the blanket draped across your legs would keep you warm. He watched, listened, waited, and when the words could no longer stay locked in his chest, he replied to your gratitude, “for you, I would do it again.”

tag list (broken tags)

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meowcatsposts · 2 years

Text

Breaking Focus [Ahmed]

Overview

He wants friends

He just wants them, bc he’s kinda lonely

But he ends up making the atmosphere awkward sometimes

So he’s not usually successful

But this time, he wants to be successful

With you

So he’s like, yolo Imma do it-

(Q’s basically wingman)

“Come on,” Q droned. “You’ll be fine, trust me! (Y/N) doesn’t bite.”

He hovered beside Ahmed, small wings fluttering impatiently beside his head. Ahmed, on the other hand, looked deathly unsure. His green eyes nervously flitted to the back of your head, then to Q, then back to you. He could put on a stunning show for millions of screaming fans, yet he couldn’t muster the courage to talk to you. Why was this so unnecessarily hard?

“If it makes you feel any better,” Q offered, observing his colleague’s tight expression. "I'll go with you." Then, to sprinkle some humor, he added playfully, “As your totally awesome friend, I need to support you.”

After letting out a strained chuckle, Ahmed shook his head.

“I should be ok," he sighed. "This shouldn’t be so hard…”

To Ahmed's surprise, the two of you got along quite well. So well, in fact, that he found it difficult to ignore your presence. He'd perk up when passing you in the halls, or cafeteria, or lounge room–anywhere, really. What started off as small, soft greetings evolved into comfortable, blossoming interactions that, quite frankly, Ahmed actually looked forward to. He found that, with you, there wasn't a need to fill silence with extra words–something he always felt obligated to do with others.

Recently, he found that he couldn't help but to genuinely smile whenever he'd talk with you.

"So you were interested," Q teased. "I'm such a good friend."

Ahmed simply smiled it off, but his ears were tinged a cute red.

"Who wouldn't be, though?" he replied, matter-of-factly. "(Y/N)'s a nice person."

Q huffed at his colleague's obscure answer. Little did he know, though, that Ahmed found you absolutely spellbinding. So spellbinding, perhaps, that you'd easily snap his focus into two.

"This isn't working as intended...just one minor flaw..."

Ahmed, hunched over his notes, sighed softly. With deft gloved hands he pinched a small vial between his fingers and inspected it, comparing the concoction with his rather large stack of records. After gently slipping the tube into its rack, he proceeded to scribble more notes on yet another sheet of paper. He was a hair's breadth away from success, and nothing was going to prevent him from seeing this experiment through.

In another part of the Union was Q, currently conspiring to break that laserlike focus of Ahmed's.

As he fluttered restlessly he mumbled, "Drums didn't work...shouting his name didn't either...his fans, a little..."

Exasperated, Q plopped down on a nearby couch and slapped his hands on his face, groaning loudly. Something had to break that damned focus.

Just then, as if the gods answered his cry, Q spotted you from the cracks of his fingers. Perfect! His eyes shone like LED party lights, and without a moment to waste he zoomed to you, unable to wipe that sneaky grin off his face.

"Q?" you blurted, practically speechless. He just popped out of nowhere! After escaping from your stupor and assessing Q's eager expression, you knew that something was brewing inside that mischievous head of his.

So you asked, rather doubtfully, "Do you need something?"

"I do, actually!" Q replied cheerfully, still wearing that fox-like grin. Though, after seeing your raised eyebrows and partial frown he added reassuringly, "It's nothing bad, I promise! I wanted your help with something..."

Step 1: Ask Ahmed to visit his lab.

"Can I visit you in the lab sometime?" you asked Ahmed, per Q's meticulously crafted instructions. "It's ok if you don't want me to, though," you added quickly. "I feel like it's rude..."

"Oh, sure! I don’t mind." Ahmed replied instantaneously, partially because he found your consideration quite endearing, and mostly because he enjoyed your company–loved it, even. With you there, he thought, his work might just progress faster.

Though, he was quite curious. Why had you asked him that, of all things?

Step 2: After Ahmed agrees, go to his lab.

“Why are you following me?” you asked Q, who was fluttering beside your head with an impish grin. It seemed like he really couldn’t wipe that smile off his face, for reasons unknown.

Currently, you were making your way to the medical wing, wondering why Q’s steps were so simple (too simple, in fact), and also wondering what Ahmed would be doing in his lab. Was it an experiment? Observations? Note-taking? All of the above?

“What?” Q retorted, in an oddly excited way. His sharp voice broke your train of thought. “Can’t I see Ahmed, too?”

“Sure, sure.” Playfully you rolled your eyes, ignoring the fact that your train of thought was full of Ahmed in a lab coat. “You can see your boyfriend again.”

After a couple back-and-forths with an overly eager Q, your thoughts strayed back to Ahmed. You wondered what he’d look like, in lab attire. Would he be wearing safety goggles? Gloves? Would his wavy, purple hair be tied into a short ponytail? You suppressed a giggle, imagining how he’d look with his hair up; he’d probably look just as stunning, you bet.

Finally, a door stared you in the face–a closed one.

"It's closed," you half whispered, half shouted, gesturing to the looming entrance. "He's probably doing something important!"

Q completely ignored your panicked remark and rapped several times (a little too loudly), but to no avail.

"See?" you said, "I don't want to–"

"Ahmed!" Q shouted, shamelessly opening the door. He completely blew off your warning, again. "(Y/N)'s here!"

After glaring daggers at Q, you timidly stepped into the room and immediately spotted the med ops chief dressed in his white lab coat, skillfully tinkering with equipment you couldn't put a name to. Clear goggles covered his emerald green eyes, and his wavy purple locks framed his face normally (no ponytails, sadly). He scribbled furiously on a sheet of paper and paid no mind to his two visitors, eyes boring through his work. He really is focused, you thought in awe, watching his deft fingers work with caution and precision all at the same time.

"Say something!" Q commanded. "He didn't hear me."

"But–"

"Just do it!"

Step 3: Say his name.

Sighing, you sucked in a readying breath and mumbled softly, "Uh...Ahmed? Q and I came to visit."

With that, Ahmed's head whipped up and his hands ceased writing, the intense focus in his eyes perpetually gone. Was he the same person?

"Oh, hi..." Ahmed replied, smiling sheepishly. He carefully adjusted his coat, smoothening some invisible wrinkles with his palms. "So you came."

You nodded and added with a hint of playful sarcasm, "Partially coerced by Q, though."

Ahmed chuckled. Typical of Q, he thought. You probably wouldn’t come here by yourself, after all.

"I was just testing out a few concoctions," he further explained to you, gesturing to the test tubes in their respective racks. Each glinted with a substance–not all were liquids, you saw. "None of them are working as intended, though..."

Ahmed’s gaze then flitted to Q, whose jaw was practically touching the floor. He did feel a twinge of guilt, though, because he was too absorbed by you. Still, he wondered why his colleague looked so astonished.

"What the–" Q blurted. His eyes blew wide, glinting and gleaming like a cat soaked in water. "I didn't think this would work."

Ahmed, who was utterly confused, asked, "What?"

He then turned to you, whose lips were curving into a smile, only to be more confused.

"What are you smiling for?" Ahmed asked again. This time, trouble painted his beautiful eyes.

"(Y/N) broke your focus! I finally found someone who could do it!" Q replied lightning quick. "So you are interested, huh?"

Now it was your turn to ask, with a blushing face, “What?”

purple dividers from: firefly-graphics

#dislyte #dislyte ahmed #dislyte x reader #dislyte ahmed x reader

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fwaooo · 1 year

Text

luke skywalker has me in a chokehold, i regret nothing but sorry for the mess. this isn't really a fic, more like an outline? (it’s my first tumblr post, pls let me know if i effed things up)

(e)mét dinluke established relationship, android au | angst, suspense, mild horror | cw: death

luke goes missing, presumably taken by imperial remnants. after about a week, leia is no longer able to sense luke in the force, they fear the worst.

a month or so later, luke arrives back home, injured but alive. he escaped, destroying the base he was taken to in the process.

when asked what happened, luke says they were trying to experiment on the force, so he closed himself off, causing leia to perceive he was dead. then how did i escape? luke doesn’t have a full idea of the experiments but he managed to grab an encrypted chip of data

time has been odd in the lab. there are some points he cannot remember entirely. some are vague impressions. some he remembers two sets of events.

luke has trouble reconnecting to the force. whatever he did to disconnect himself it was done instinctively and too well. despite luke standing right in front of them, leia and grogu have difficulty sensing him. the two do their best to find a fix, leia through research, grogu through connecting with force ghosts.

it takes a moment for anakin, obiwan and yoda to recognize luke. his force signature is muted, desaturated. they hesitate. they suggest luke to meditate with other force users, to have them aid and coax the force and luke to reconnect. for a moment, it was as if luke was an abyss, a black hole in the force.

luke works on decrypting the chip. he’s worried about the experiments that were conducted in the lab. what if they target other force users? what if they target leia and grogu? he doesn’t ask others for their help on the chip. he is afraid. he knows it shouldn’t be, but his family is everything.

when luke dreams at night, he no longer has nightmares. but he cannot recall the rush of joy when he found out leia was his sister. the thrill of flying his x wing. the overwhelming love when he first kissed din. he knows what emotions were felt at the time but the feeling is out of reach.

din does not understand the force, so he does what he can instead. he provides and protects. he brews tea when luke is frustrated over the lack of progress, he tucks a tired grogu in bed after meditation. luke and din may not have exchanged wedding vows yet but they know their relationship is true. din, grogu, and luke, a clan of three. din’s whole world. he never expected to have a family once more after the droids had taken his first one from him.

luke decrypts the chip. he wish he hadn’t. how can this be true? he’s luke skywalker, always has been and always will be. he was born to padme amidala and anakin skywalker. he was raised in tattooine by uncle owen and aunt beru. he had fought in the rebellion against the empire. he— he— he slices down his left arm. he sees wires.

leia and grogu are able to sense the bond with luke once more. he is able to send basic thoughts to them, he is able to levitate objects, his strength in the force grows daily. a black hole.

they are attacked and luke is injured when trying to protect the children. they were distracted, several of luke’s students had fallen ill. there is no blood, only oil and sparks. then what were these fluids running down his face?

droids had destroyed din’s world once. he knows they were only puppets, ordered by their master, but the shadowed mastermind was not the one that littered the streets of his childhood home with corpses. droids are the symbol of violence, of trauma, of lost happiness. din dislikes droids, din is afraid of droids. luke skywalker is an android.

who is he? what is he? he looks like luke skywalker. he has memories of luke skywalker. he acts like luke skywalker. but he is no longer made of flesh and blood. it's no longer only his right hand that is made of wires and gears. who does that make him? what does that make him? what makes luke skywalker who he is?

the android is a ticking time bomb. a vacuum that siphons and steals. a parasite. its "will" does not matter. it was created for a purpose. both an experiment and a puppet. can the force be stolen? can a non-force user wield the force? can they leash luke skywalker?

robota. it doesn’t matter if “luke skywalker” wants to protect his family. its purpose was not to give, only to take.

din goes to the ruined lab. there is barely anything left after the explosion. but he finds mangled steel and wires that seems to have come from a hand. he holds it tightly to his chest, whispering apologies and words of love. he buries it at the base of the tree that luke loved (loves) to meditate under.

“luke” loves his family and his family love luke. the luke who is no longer here, the luke that is the true owner of these memories and feelings. he is an imposter, a thief that stole luke’s home and family. but isn’t he luke in all parts that matter?

smiles, tears, compassion, strength, the good, the bad. it’s all the same. then isn’t that enough?

leia sees her brother, han and chewie see their friend, r2d2 and c3po see their companion, grogu sees his teacher and din. din sees—

din sees—

din sees blue eyes. leia and din hold luke's hand. they visit where he is buried. "welcome home, luke."

#dinluke #luke skywalker #fanfic #angst #android luke skywalker #cw: death #but is it really?

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ask-garreth-weasley · 11 months

Note

I made this for you! Happy Weird Wednesday!

Step into my lab, where magic is born, Potions bubbling, cauldrons adorned. I'm the master, brewing with precision, Creating elixirs that defy definition.

Mixing ingredients, a dance of art, Unlocking secrets, stirring from the start. Eye of newt, wing of bat, and powdered root, Combining elements, concoctions take route.

Potions in motion, brewing with devotion, Crafting magic in every potion. From love potions to strength elixirs, I'm the alchemist, the ultimate mixer.

Polyjuice Potion, change your disguise, With a sip, you'll see through others' eyes. Felix Felicis, luck on your side, Liquid confidence, where fate will abide.

Draught of Living Death, a powerful sleep, Dreams and visions, secrets it'll keep. Amortentia, the love potion's art, Captivating hearts, igniting a spark.

Potions in motion, brewing with devotion, Crafting magic in every potion. From love potions to strength elixirs, I'm the alchemist, the ultimate mixer.

In my lab, I'm the wizard of potions, Unlocking mysteries with magical notions. Stirring, simmering, the cauldron's heat, Creating wonders, spells complete.

Wolfsbane Potion, tame the beast within, Protecting minds from a werewolf's sin. Veritaserum, truth serum's might, Revealing secrets, shining in the light.

From Pepperup Potion to Skele-Gro, Healing elixirs to mend and bestow. Potions hold power, a mystical force, Brewing miracles, changing the course.

Potions in motion, brewing with devotion, Crafting magic in every potion. From love potions to strength elixirs, I'm the alchemist, the ultimate mixer.

So raise your vials, toast to the brew, Potions of wonders, dreams coming true. In my lab, where potions reside, Magic is crafted, in every stride.

🥹🧪⚗️😁

#gar replies #weird weasley wednesday #i have nothing to add this is wonderful!!!!!!

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witchywomanrunningupthathill · 2 years

Text

Veritaserum

Pairing: Regulus x Female!OC

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: (very minor) swearing, Evan Rosier??? (I feel like he’s a warning)

Description: Regulus and Iris brew veritaserum for their NEWT Potions project

The castle dungeons were always freezing at night. And drafty. Very drafty. Iris Avery puts her face directly over a steamy, bubbling silver cauldron. She closes her eyes, willing the chill she’s caught to go away.

The deserted potions classroom lies in shadows, save the set of lab tables at the center of the ancient room which are illuminated by moonlight from the oculus in the ceiling. Iris removes her head from above the cauldron to check the copy of Advanced Potion Making laying open on the table. She reads down the ingredients list:

Distilled water – half a cauldron (dependent on its size)

Erumpent fluid – 3 teaspoons

Newts – 5 of, boiled

Black beetle eyes – 57, boiled

Jobberknoll feathers – 7 of, wing feathers

Next to her stands Regulus Black armed with a knife as he severs the tails of five Newts. Iris grimaces at the bloody sight laid on the wooden cutting board, trying not to gag.

“Of course you had to pick one of the most difficult potions to make,” Regulus chides. Iris scoffs at him.

“Is that a complaint I hear Mister Potions Master?” Iris prods flippantly. Regulus rolls his eyes.

“Well, if you’d actually contribute, we might be able to get this done before the next moon cycle starts.”

“You say it like I do nothing around here…” Iris challenges. “I boiled the cauldron…and did one of the Newts—”

“You barely got halfway through cutting its tail!”

“Hey, you know how I am around blood!

“Right… And good thing I’m doing it now because the last thing I need is you spewing into my potion.”

“Our potion! Plus, this isn’t how I had planned my Friday night would go…”

“That makes two of us. Will you get the Erumpent fluid from the cupboard?” Iris gets up from the table, playfully glaring at Regulus. She returns with the ingredient after a moment, adding in the first teaspoon.

“How does one harvest Erumpent fluid, do you think?” Iris asks as the potion begins to turn magenta. Regulus shakes his head, smirking slightly.

“You’re asking the wrong person, dear,” Regulus answers. Iris frowns as she adds the second and third teaspoons.

“How long do you think Slughorn will go on about it if I bring it up during class Monday?” Regulus chuckles.

Professor Slughorn was surely not a man of brevity. Regulus remembers asking the man about substituting sage for peppermint in the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Slughorn proceeded to recount an extended anecdote of when he and his fellow roommates snuck a draught of the elixir from the Potions Master to…enjoy at a party following Slytherin’s win in the Quidditch House Cup.

“Depends. If it’s something he’s not personally invested in, maybe it’ll take…hmm… thirty minutes this time? Clip those Jobberknoll feathers, will you?”

Iris giggles as she grabs the shears. She cuts the feathers then returns to the back cupboard for the Black beetle eyes. Regulus drops the first Newt into the simmering cauldron just as the classroom door creaks open, drawing both of their attention to the tall, blonde-haired boy standing in the doorway with his eyes covered. Somehow, even in this daft display, Evan Rosier still managed to exude pretension and an acute sense of entitlement.

“Is it safe for me to uncover my eyes?” He asks.

“Nope, we’re naked!” Iris quips. Regulus stirs the steaming cauldron before adding another Newt to the potion, a wry smirk spreading across his face.

“Oh, Merlin!” Evan scowls as he starts for the door.

“Pull your head out of the cauldron, Rosier! Not like we both haven’t seen Reg in various stages of undress…” Iris retorts as she closes the cupboard door and pads back to the table, a glass vial of beetle eyes in hand.

“You two were put on this earth to give me a headache...” Regulus says, shaking his head as he adds the last Newt. Evan walks over to the couple.

“Ah, but you still love us, don’t you Reg?” Evan pats Regulus’ shoulder.

The potion begins to take on a garnet hue just as Iris returns to the lab table and sets down the beetle eyes. She glances at the potions textbook again then reaches for the clipped Jobberknoll feathers, adding them to the cauldron one at a time.

Evan eyes the textbook, picking it up and reading. “Veritaserum…” The potion turns a deep shade of violet as Evan looks at Iris. “How’d you manage to convince Sluggie to let you brew this one?”

Iris barely meets his gaze before she removes the cauldron from the heat. “Didn’t have to,” she declares, setting the cauldron down. “I’ve got this one working with me.” She puts her arm around Regulus as he tries to wiggle out of her grasp.

“Oh, yes, how could I forget you’ve got the teacher’s pet…”

“Alright, that’s enough out of both of you.” Regulus announces. Evan brings his hand to his chest, as if he’s been wounded by his best friend’s words. Iris lets out a huffed laugh. Regulus leaves the table to go to the back counter, his eyes scan the shelves above filled with glassware. Evan and Iris continue to banter behind him. He settles for a stout, green-hazed glass container with a cork stopper and brings it back to the lab table.

Iris waves her wand causing the stopper to rise off of the container and onto the table.

“Lazy,” Regulus prods. Iris lightly shoves his shoulder.

“You weren’t saying that yesterday in Herbology when that baby mandrake almost bit your pinkie off. Sprout would have had a conniption!”

“Totally different circumstances.”

“Whatever you say, Black. Just be happy that I’m contributing now.”

Iris points her wand at a large glass dropper, which levitates over to their lab table, tapping Evan on the shoulder in the process. The wizard yelps, slightly flailing his arms. Evan’s hand bumps the cauldron, causing some of the Veritaserum to spill over the lip.

“Oi! Mind the cauldron, Rosier!” Iris scolds.

“It’s not my fault your enchanted dropper startled me!” Evan challenges, trying to recover his smug, unassuming countenance. The dropper reaches the cooling cauldron, lowers itself into the solution then floats over to the container, squeezing the potion into it. The enchanted instrument repeats this until the glass is full and the cork replaces itself over the top of the container. Regulus moves the container under the room’s oculus, bathing the potion in moonlight.

“Well, if you weren’t in its way…” Iris replies snidely.

“Thank Merlin this is over with. I don’t know how much more of you two together I can take,” Regulus says.

“Good, then let’s get out of here, I’m fucking freezing” Evan suggests.

Iris and Regulus grab their bags then follow Evan out into the dimly-lit corridor. Regulus wraps his arm around Iris’ shoulders, bringing her into a side-hug. He pecks the side of her head.

“Why must I be subject to your PDA?” Evan whines.

“You could always join in,” Iris jests.

“Hm. Didn’t know you were into that, Avery… Reg, your girl’s a freak,” Evan retorts. Regulus facepalms, shaking his head at his absolutely ridiculous best friend and girlfriend.

#regulus x reader #regulus black x reader #regulus x oc #regulus black x oc #regulus black x ofc #regulus black fic #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black fluff #evan rosier #harry potter fanfiction #regulus black #regulus #hp #iz writes

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kvhasproblems · 2 years

Text

Accidental Confessions.

Daisy Johnson x Fem!Reader

Rated: G

Reader uses She/Her pronouns.

Takes place sometime in season 3 I guess (it doesn’t really matter.)

(Spoiler Free)

Characters: Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz, Bobbi Morse, Daisy Johnson, Y/n

(All of my oneshots will have a Gn and Fem option, this is the Fem option)

“Bobbi I got the hard drive.” I hissed into my coms as I slammed my elbow into the last assailant's head knocking him clean out. I stood up straight a rolled out my wrist. I’ll have to get Jem’s to look at that when I get back.

“Copy that, get back to Z1 so we can head home. This mission took long because someone is just so slow.” Bobbi spoke with an evident smirk in her voice.

“Since you can’t see me I’m rolling my eyes,” I stated earning a small chuckle from Bobbi.

“You better be careful, I think you’ve been spending too much time with Hunter.”

“Says you! Aren’t you two back together?” I ask while running around the corner to where Z1 was parked and Bobbi was waiting.

“It’s complicated!” Bobbi grumbled.

“I’m sure it is VERY complicated.” I teased

“You’re sure one to talk have you even told D-.”

Bobbi was thankfully cut off by the chirp of her phone ringing.

“Sorry, it’s Fitz gotta take this,” Bobbi says with a slightly annoyed face not really caring to cover the sly smile.

Bobbi’s smile drops, once she answers the phone.

“What do you mean hurt?….. How bad?….. I'll let you talk to her…. umhum…..I’ll zip us back…. ok.” Bobbi passes me the phone.

I hold the phone up to my ear and hear Fitz doing his anxious mumbling.

“Hey, Fitz is everyone ok?” I press making my voice calm in hopes that it will calm Fitz on the other side.

“Yes… well no, not at all, well almost everyone, does that count-“ He mumbled rapidly.

“Fitz, tell me who’s hurt.” I insisted.

“Well, Simmons told me to tell you that…” Fitz paused causing my anxiety to rise. “Well Daisy got hurt, and to hurry back.” he rushed out the last part quieter.

I feel my blood drain from my face and I’m glad that I’m sitting down. I take a deep breath.

“Fitz-“ I tried to keep my voice steady. “What happened.”

“I’m not really sure only that Mack ran in with her. Simmons is doing surgery now. She actually told me to hurry back, she probably needs my help.”

Fitz hung up the phone before I could say another word.

I sat in silence my thoughts too loud and disorganized to even think of what to say.

“Hey, everything’s gonna be fine,” Bobbi spoke trying to assure me.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep… I know I should have gone with her on her mission, May could have come with you.” I say

“The one thing I can promise you is that I’m getting us back to base as fast I can,” Bobbi said with a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks, B… what if I messed up, by you know… not telling her. What if I never get to tell her?” I trembled my voice almost breaking at the end.

“Don’t think like that yet we don’t know anything, one of the first things you learn at the academy is; If you’re not there to assess the situation don’t make assumptions,” Bobbi said

“I know..” I said

We both fell quiet as Bobbi knew I wasn’t in the mood to talk. The rest of the flight felt like the longest of my life.

——————————————————————————

Z1 slowed and began to hover as Bobbi descended the plane to its landing. I flew to my feet, slamming the hanger door open the second we touched down.

My feet were flying me down The Playground’s hallways pushing people out of my way. I’d have time to apologize to them later, I had no idea how much time Daisy has… My throat felt thick as the lump was becoming harder to ignore. My eyes felt hot with the fresh tears brewing.

‘Compartmentalize you idiot.’ i scold myself as I ran. ‘Panic never helps a situation.’

I flew into The Lab and headed straight for the hospital wing. I quickly ran to the shut room and ripped the door open.

There she was. Alive. The heart monitors a steady confirmation that she was ok. Daisy was hooked up to an IV too. The few scratches she has had been cleaned. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

I slowly lowered myself into the chair beside her bed. She looked so peaceful, that I couldn’t help but reach out and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. My hand lingering a bit too long.

“Hey Das… you really scared me there… I-“ I choked up a bit before continuing. “I don’t think you know how much you mean to me. I don’t know what I would do without you. When we are together I feel like I’m whole. You are my home. My safe place. And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you… especially before I got to tell you that I lov-“

“Are we talking about love?” Daisy sleepily and groggily mumbled.

“Hey, Das.” I smiled softly at her. “I guess I was..”

“I’m in love with this girl… she’s amazing,” Daisy said looking deep into my eyes.

I felt my heart sink deep into my chest. I felt embarrassment bloom deep within me filling me with a shame and sorrow that I’d never felt before.

“Oh..” was all I could muster.

“You’d love her you know… She’s so tough and she always beats me when we spare though I think it’s because I’m distracted with how beautiful she looks, even when she’s kicking my ass.” Daisy chuckled almost drunkenly. “She so smart too, she can pretty much keep up with FitzSimmons and she always knows what to do. And she’s so sweet, to me at least. She gives me the best hugs where she holds me right and I feel so safe that I never want to leave. She knows everything about me and always listens when I tell one of my stupid stories and when she looks at me it feels like all my troubles fade away and it’s just me and her. And she always puts the people she loves first and I worry about her because sometimes she forgets to look out for herself. I’m just so in love with her that I’m too scared to tell her… what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Daisy ranted with a sloppy love drunk smile on her face.

“I'm sure she does Das but what’s her name?” I asked saying praying with every fibre in me that I wasn’t wrong.

“Her name is Y/n and I know you’d just adore her,” Daisy said grabbing your hand that still laid on the bed beside her.

“Daisy… Can I tell you a secret?” I said barely containing my laugh. What kind of meds did Simmons give her? “I am Y/n, D.”

I stared at her as the realization spread over her face.

“Oh. Well, that was less scary than I thought. Do you Y/n, like me back?” she asked almost shrinking back into her bed afraid of the answer.

“Yes Daisy, I love you more than anything. I was telling you all about it before you woke up but since you didn’t hear me I’d be happy to tell you again.” I said with a smile.

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree, the smile giddy and timeless.

“Tell me,” she said in almost a whisper.

“You Daisy Johnson are the love of my life. You are my home, my safe place. I love you more than anything else. I love your smile and your bravery, I love your little stories and how you cuddle up next to me as we binge all our comfort shows, I love how you love and care not just about me but the whole team, I love your heart and your eyes I just get lost in them as I try to guess what you’ll say next. I just love everything about you Daisy. I love you.” I gushed while looking deep into her dark eyes.

My gaze slowly trailing down to her lips. The ones I've imagined kissing so many times.

Daisy reached up to meet me halfway in a chaste kiss. Warmth blossomed in my chest, sparks igniting as Daisy leaned in again this time for a hungrier kiss. The encompassing scent of her conditioner, was dizzying, her slightly calloused hands bushing up against my face to pull me closer.

I could feel her giddy smile against my lips as she broke the kiss. This action alone made my heart soar.

I kissed her on the forehead and tucked her back into the stiff hospital bed.

“You my love need some rest,” I whispered making no move to leave her side.

“Stay with me.” She whispered back.

“Always.”

#agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#agents of shield #agents of shield fanfics #aos #aos fanfic #daisy johnson #daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson x fem!reader #daisy johnson fluff #fem reader #accidental confession #hurt daisy johnson x reader

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