#Man With Visiion

[curryvillain]

Get Ready To Jab Jab With Temptress' "Crocus Bag"

SpiceMas is in the air, and the people are ready to revel in it. Grenada has always been a powerhouse for some great music, and when it comes to Carnival, they do not disappoint. Enter Temptress, the 2023 Grenada Road March winner and the Queen of Jab Jab, and she’s ready to take on the road with the video for the single, “Crocus Bag“. Directed by Man With Visiion and shot in La Fillette, St.…

[thatdesusa]

｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡  (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[cottontail20]

Memories, Chapter 5: His Greatest Creations

Summary: Vision finds some very special letters.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19778191/chapters/47629006

After that, their nighttime routine sometimes changed a little. Not every night, they weren't suddenly insatiable sex fiends.. But often enough. Wanda and Vision did, after all, have time to make up for.

This particular morning, Vision woke to the pleasant, soft warmth of Wanda's bare skin as she lay curled sleeping against his chest, her arms curled tightly around him. Vision shifted slightly so he could look at her properly. A small smile adorned Wanda's face as she slept. She looked so relaxed, more perfectly at peace than he had ever seen her.

And, Vision thought, why shouldn't she sleep peacefully? She didn't have to run anymore. Didn't have to hide. They had a space to call their own. Anyone could look around their room now, see it filling with Wanda's things, and Vision's, and know immediately that it was their room. They were safe now. Secure. They were Home.

Vision was home, because he was with Wanda. He looked at her again, and his synthetic heart swelled, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. He loved her so much it almost hurt. She was his home, he belonged with her, now and forever. Forever. Vision knew he wanted to be with Wanda forever, and he knew their was something specific that he had to do to make that happen.

Now, he just needed to remember what exactly that something was. Vision was feeling quite stupid, because he knew it was something obvious. He knew it was something he should know, something he should remember, but he simply didn't, yet.

At that moment, Vision was distracted again from whatever it was he'd been trying to remember by Wanda beginning to stir, eyes fluttering open, a sleepy smile spreading across her face.

"Mmm.. Morning, Vizh."

"Good morning, Wanda" Vision replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "How did you sleep?"

"Destul de bine. I think someone might have worn me out a bit."

"Oops.."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing" Wanda shifted, stretching, causing some of the covers to fall away. Visiion's cheeks turned a darker shade of red as he quickly tried to gather them up again. Wanda chuckled. "I don't mind if you see me, Vizh. You have special, uh, Boyfriend privileges."

Her brow had crinkled a little as she spoke, because truthfully, the words 'Boyfriend' and 'Girlfriend' had never felt quite special enough for what they were to each other, but then, what other word was there to use?

"I know" said Vision. "I see you, and you are beautiful. But I also love and respect you far too much to just shamelessly ogle any time you happen to be naked in front of me."

"Well.." Wanda blushed slightly, propping herself up on on one elbow to kiss him. "Thank you, Vision. I feel very loved and respected."

"Good.." Just as Vision leaned up to return Wanda's kiss, there was a knock at the door.

"Vision?" came Morgan Stark's sweet little voice. "Big Brother, are you awake?"

"Just a minute, don't open the door!" Vision and Wanda both sprang out of bed, searching for anything resembling appropriate clothing. Vision could, of course, instantly phase himself into something, but he had somewhat got into the habit of usually wearing Tony's old pants, even if they were a little short on him.

"Why?" They could almost see the crinkle in Morgan's adorable brow.

"Uh.. A monster stole my pants!" Vision replied, and Wanda burst out laughing as she slipped into her gown.

"A monster?!"

"Don't worry, your brother fed the monster and it went away" Wanda smirked, throwing Vision's pants at him and waiting for him to get them on before opening the door. "Now, what can we do for you, fata dulce?"

"Can we make Mommy a special Breakfast?" Morgan asked.

"Yes" Vision smiled fondly at her. "Of course we can." --

Morgan, quite a sweet natured child, often liked to do nice things for her Mother, and her reasons for doing so were often just as sweet as she was. So, when Vision had a meal of eggs, mushrooms, and grilled tomatoes almost ready to serve, Wanda asked Morgan what the occasion was for Today's special breakfast.

"Oh, Mommy is a little bit sad Today" Morgan explained.

"Why is that? Wanda frowned.

"Today was 'sposed to be her and Daddy's 'versary."

"Oh.." Wanda's face fell. "You mean their Wedding Anniversary?"

"Uh-huh."

Halfway through dishing food onto a plate, Vision froze. Partly due to a sudden pang of sympathy for Pepper, but also because of one particular word. One word, and all the words surrounding it.

Wedding. Marriage. Proposal. Husband and Wife. And a ring.. --

Vision remembered standing in a jewelry store in New York, one of the very few occasions that he had worn his human disguise.

He had made a few visits, before he had finally chosen a ring. Simple, but beautiful. Just like Wanda would want.

"Good luck, sir.." The clerk had wished him as he left, ring-box in hand.

"Thank you.." --

He remembered taking the ring back to the compound and tucking it away in his suitcase.

The suitcase now stowed in the bottom of his cupboard.

"Well," Vision managed to speak, dishing up the remainder of the food, "I hope this Breakfast helps your Mommy feel a bit better. Maybe you and Wanda can take it to her? I just have to go check something.."

Wanda opened her mouth to question him, but Vision was already gone. --

Vision bolted to his room, throwing the closet open and dragging out his suitcase, dropping to his knees to search it's contents.

Soon, he found it. A ring-box, containing the ring he had chosen for Wanda. Strangely, though, attached to the box with a rubber band, was an envelope. It looked rather fat, and was taped shut, as if it had been sealed and reopened again. Vision removed the envelope, carefully opening it. He pulled out letters, in Tony Stark's handwriting. Letters to him. Feeling a lump in his throat, Vision began to read. --

Dear Vision,

As much as I've tried, I just can't seem to wake you up. And believe me, I have tried. I've tried everything I can think of, so has Bruce, we even called Helen Cho.. We just can't wake you up without that damn stone.

I found this ring in your stuff.. You were going to give it to Maximoff, I suppose. I'm sorry you never got the chance. I can't help thinking things would be different, for you, better, if she were still here. That she could wake you up. I almost one hundred percent sure she could, and that sucks, 'cause I can't help blaming myself for her being gone, for you, for everyone.. Wondering if things could have been different if I was here, instead of up there..

But I'm trying not to dwell. This letter is my way of trying to let go, I suppose. To say goodbye, to you. It's harder than I thought, because I don't think I ever realized how much you actually meant to me until I saw you broken.

I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I should probably bury you or something, but I just can't bring myself to do it. Just know that you're safe here. I'll protect you, like I couldn't then.

Goodbye, Robo-son. Rest In Peace. --

Vision's eyes were stinging a little, though he hadn't shed any tears, yet. He wiped them anyway moved on to the next letter. --

Dear Vision,

So, it turns out there might be a way to bring everyone back. If it all works out, you might get a chance to give this ring to Maximoff after all. That's why I put this letter with it, because I know you'll come looking for this thing.

So, hopefully I'll see you soon. But this mission is big, it's dangerous, there's a whole lot that could go wrong. If this plan works, but I don't make it, if you wake up and I'm not here.. There's some things I need you to do for me, Vision.

There's a little girl.. my little girl, Morgan. She already loves you. Calls you her big brother. I'm going to need you to look after her for me. And Peter, and Harley.. you remember both of them, right? I hope so. They'll both need a bit of support.

I know how great you turned out has very little to do with me. You were your own great man from the moment you sprang out of that cradle. But whatever little part of you did come from me, (probably just the Jarvis part), I want you to know I'm proud of you. And Morgan, and whatever tiny little parts of Peter or Harley that I can lay claim to.. I am so proud.

Tell them that, if I don't get the chance. I don't mean to get soppy here, but If I go, I know I'm leaving behind the best of me. My greatest creations are you.

Hope I see you soon. --

Tears spilled from Vision's eyes, really, truly feeling Tony's loss for the first time. And then he remembered.. A memory that wasn't entirely his, not anymore, but still very much a part of him. --

"Hello, sir. I am Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. You may call me J.A.R.V.I.S."

"Shit!" Tony exclaimed joyfully. "It worked! You work!"

"Shit.. That word is not in my speech bank. Shall I add.."

"Fuck!" cried Tony. "I mean, shit.. crap.. No!"

"No, sir?"

"Don't say shit, or fuck, or crap.. Miss Potts will be pissed if she finds out I created an artificial intelligence and thinks the first thing I did was teach it to swear.. She'll do that disappointed little sigh that's actually kinda sexy.."

"Miss Potts is sexy?"

"Ye.. NO!" --

Suddenly, Vision was laughing through his tears. He heard footsteps approaching, and stuffed the ring back into the suitcase. Soon, but not yet.

Wanda entered, finding Vision laughing and crying at the same time. She glanced at the letters in his hand for just long enough to recognize Tony Stark's handwriting. Without any questions, or any words at all, she knelt by Vision's side and just held him, because that was what she felt he needed her to do.

Vision curled into her arms. Safe. Home. He laughed, and he cried. He was sad, for the loss of his friend.. of his Father. But Vision was also happy. So very happy. Because Vision remembered. The very important thing he'd been trying to remember since he first woke up. He remembered exactly what he wanted, what he'd planned to do before everything went wrong. What he still planned to do now.

Vision was going to ask Wanda Maximoff to marry him.

Notes:

Translation: Destul de bine: pretty good Fata dulce: sweet girl

[imaginemycroftholmes]

Mycroft realise that he is falling in love for Anthea (sorry for my bad english not my first language)

As Anthea left him to be dragged to see more of her adoring fans after the show Mycroft is left with his thoughts and worst of all his feelings alone in the moonlight garden outside of the theatre.

The evening at the theatre had been magical; Anthea was a prefect companion to watch ‘Oedipus’ with, she was very much as accommodating as she was Godly accommodating his needs as the night went on, a wonderful conversationalist, witty, funny, and warm whereas Mycroft hasn’t felt in ages. 

Everything down to the last flower, the ripples in the pond and the soft summer breeze in the air screamed of romantic tension that Mycroft had to clear his head rather forcefully to dislodge it all.

“If there’s a prize for rotten judgement then I guess I’ve already won that,” Mycroft muses aloud to himself walking further away from the lights of the theare, “No one is worth the aggravation.”

It’s when Mycroft is confronted with the latest statue of Anthea from her battle with  the great beast Augean Stables. In all her stone glory Anthea is picturesque and more than he could ever ask for.

Truth be told there was enough evidence to support the fact that his feelings may not be so one sided. That perhaps, with enough ingenuity and cunning he could cheat the Hades out of his deal and still have a happy life with Anthea.

So tempting and alluring was the thought that Mycroft had to halt himself from touching the newly erected statue.

No. No. NO.NO.NO. Not again.

Turning away from the statue Mycroft tells himself harshly when that fantastical visiion of a future with her floods his head, “No-that’s ancient history, been there, done that-”“Come off it mate, who d’you think you’re kidding, she’s the earth and heaven to you,” comes a voice from behind the garden’s vase and Mycroft couldn’t keep himself steady to save his life.

“Who said that,” he demanded in a hushed tone weary of who and where this new voice was coming from. It was unfortunate that Mycroft was never gifted a weapon from Eurus, the God of the underworld and even more so that his attempts of rectifying this matter even more fruitless on his lonesome.

“Aye, we’re down here,” called a different voice and Mycroft was sure that his mind was playing tricks on him.

Too much wine he thinks as Mycroft comes closer to examine the pots to find that five of the figures, the muses moving.

“Sorry there big boy but I’m afraid you aren’t dreaming but even then I doubt that you would dream of me right Mycroft,” Irene muse of comedy says saucily as hse saunters closer to the forefront of the pottery. 

“Irene, we talked about this we have to be gentle when it comes to feelings,” Molly the muse of muse of tragedy before turning to Mycroft with a gentle smile.

“Pish posh his feelings the man’s been away from the living so long I doubt he has any left to his name,” grumbled Hudson muse of history before getting a gentle nudge from Greg the muse of poetry.

“Listen Hudson I know you have a score to settle with Mycroft about your daughter all those years ago but can’t you let the poor bloke have a break? You know he was only doing Eurus’ biding.”

“I shall give that reptile a taste of my shoe,” Hudson declared taking off her painted sandal only to shouldered between Greg and John the muse of dance. 

“Mrs. Hudson, listen if you want to sit this one out we understand,” John starts before Hudson throws up a hand.

“No, no! I can be professional even if our target is severely undeserving of our great advice,” she bellows walking closer to the forefront of the pot where Irene and Molly still stood watching the affair from afar.

Mycroft could barely believe his eyes as Hudson not only became larger on the pot but then “jumped” onto one of the statues of Achilles and morphed it into her.Eyes wide and growing paler by the second Mycroft tries to back away fast enough from the newly created statue only to be scooped up with one heavy arm and hoisted into the air.

“Now listen here you little bugger, you can try to keep it hidden but we see right though you so you better knock it off,” Hudson exclaims as she jostles Mycroft.

“Mrs. Hudosn, Mrs. Hudson,” come the cries from the pottery until John ends up “jumping” onto another statue of a fallen hero and retrieves Mycroft from her stony grasp.

“And we’ll take it from here Mrs. Hudson,” John decides firmly.

“JUST LET ME GET MY HANDS ON HIM-”

“Mrs. Hudson settle down,” Irene complains, “You’re completely ruining the mood.”

“I’ll show you a mood,” Hudson threatens to the muse of comedy only to be infatuated more when all Irene does is shrug her off.

Setting Mycroft back down on the ground (and far out of Hudson’s reach) John tries again. “Listen you can’t conceal it Mycroft we know how you’re feeling.”

“Yeah, who you’re thinking of is no surprise to us.”  Mycroft nearly got whip lash from finding out that Greg had migrated from the pottery to the stone work on the fountain’s edge.

At this point with all the manhandling, emotional turmoil and headaches Mycroft just wants this whole supernatural event to end.

“No chance no way, I won’t say it, no no,” Mycroft vehemently denies as he tries to flee the garden.Mycroft doesn’t even make it a foot past the fountain when he is accosted by Irene and Molly blocking his path in statue forms. “Buddy you swoon you sigh,” Irene complains.

“Why deny it? Oh. Oh,” says with a pause that causes John to stop blocking Hudson’s attempts to move to another stone figure.

“What, what’s wrong Molly,” John asks.

“Nothing! I just saw a really pretty bug by Mycroft’s sandal so I-”

“Wait he’s getting away!” Greg shouts and like Eurus’ horrific hound from hell Hudson is there to block Mycroft in an instance.

Surrounded by all five muses Mycroft continues to argue. “It’s too cliche I won’t say I’m in love.”

“Aw mate, I know its always hard jumping back into a relationship,” Greg begins before Mycroft cuts him off. Greg for his part looks mildly offended but lets it pass to hear Mycroft’s rebutals.

“I thought my heart had learned its lesson. It feels so good when you start out.”

“Most things do,” Irene retorts and is rewarded with a smack from Molly.“My head is screaming “get a grip Myc” unless you’re looking to cry your heart out,” Mycroft deadpans seriously.

“Boy you can’t deny any much as who you are is how you’re feeling and by Gods I wish you could be literally anyone else,” Hudson gripes.

“Baby we’re not buying,” Irene croons followed by Molly’s, “Hon we saw you hit the ceiling.”“Myc just face it like a grown-up,” Greg says good  naturedly, “When you gonna up that you-”

“GOT IT GOT IT GOT IT GOT IT BAD,” chorused the other muses much to Mycroft’s surprise. Why hasn’t anyone else heard it he wondered wildly.

Willing himself to have more courage Mycroft stood in front of what he thought was the weaker of the five muses Irene and Molly. “No chance, no way, I won’t say it. No, no,” and then tries to pass them.

It turns out that Mycroft had definitely picked the wrong ones because they had him back on his ass with a sweet, “ Give up, give in, check the grin you’re in love.”

Trying past John and Hudson Mycroft proclaimed, “This scene won’t play, I won’t say I’m in love.”He was very surprised at how fast Hudson could be as she grabbed him by the toga and stated lowly, “We’ll do it until you admit you’re in love you little blighter so just own it,” and then began to shake him again.“Mrs Hudson no,” John cried once again having to rescue Mycroft from Hudson’s punishing grip. John is able to get Hudson to let go but not without leaving an opening for Mycroft to escape. “Crap-Mrs Hudson,” John whined as the other muses tried to coral him again.

Thankfully Mycroft is a bit faster than the muses can jump from statue to statue. Past the garden and toward the theatre’s entrance Mycroft pauses to see if he’s lost them and more importantly catch his breath.

The theatre is empty as most of the patrons have went back to their dull lives or to meet Anthea in the town’s square. This would explain why no one heard the ruckus in the garden then he muses.

“Hey there.”

Mycroft just about jumps out of his skin seeing Greg in the tapestry by the theatre’s exit.

Grabbing a dying torch from the wall Mycroft waves it at the moving figure, “you’re way off base. I won’t say it so get off my case because I refuse to say it.”“Myc don’t be so proud it’s okay,” Greg comforts him by wrapping the fabric around him in a mock hug, “you’re in love.”

Tired, cold, achy from the impromptu escape and hungry Mycroft finally admits, “At least out loud I won’t say I’m in love.”