#deep learing

[ingoampt]

Momentum vs Normalisation in Deep learning -part 2 - day 34

Momentum and Normalization in Deep Learning Comparing Momentum and Normalization in Deep Learning: A Mathematical Perspective Momentum and normalization are two pivotal techniques in deep learning that enhance the efficiency and stability of training. This article explores the mathematics behind these methods, provides examples with and without these techniques, and demonstrates why they are…

[collapseofindustrialcivilization]

Capitalism’s Death Cult: How Corporations Weaponize Hope to Sell Extinction

The Corporate Leviathan Unbound In the shadow of melting glaciers and burning forests, a new aristocracy reigns supreme, unbound by borders or morality. Transnational corporations, the hydra-headed architects of our unraveling future, operate with an impunity that would make medieval warlords blush. These entities are not mere participants in the global economy; they are its overlords, wielding…

[sshbpodcast]

Episode 200: A Self-Indulgent Spectacular

Everyone welcome! Welcome to A Star to Steer Her By's 200th Episode spectacular! We've come a long way and we're honestly more than a little amazed to be here! Thank you to all who've joined us!

For our big 200 we are eschewing the usual procedure and calling on some former guests to join us for a few rounds of Trek trivia before making them have some fun with Shakespeare! It's a bit of a long one, but I promise it is a grand old time from start to finish! So get a warm drink (or cold if you're listening to this in the future and it's Summer), settle in, and join us for some good fun!

[Note: spoilers for Discovery S.3 somewhere around the last ten minutes of the episode or so]

See all our ideal bridge crews here

LLAP

[walble]

Your Future Partner

Paid Readings | Ko-Fi

This is meant to be a fun, general reading, so it may not resonate with everyone. Take what resonates for you and leave the rest behind! Please take a moment to breathe, focus on your intuition, and choose the photo that calls to you. Each holds a unique message for you!

𐙚 • 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 1

Your future partner is someone who brings a sense of hope, renewal, and inspiration into your life. They're likely to come into your world when you're healing or stepping into a more authentic version of yourself. This person carries a calming presence and seems to ignite a quiet optimism in you, as if things are finally aligning after a period of uncertainty or difficulty. They're drawn to your inner light and may even reflect that light back at you, encouraging personal growth and emotional clarity.

They likely avoid unnecessary conflict and prefer peace over chaos. Their presence suggests a breath of fresh air in your romantic experiences—someone who isn't here to play games or stir up drama. Past relationship patterns or internal struggles that once caused you stress begin to settle in their presence. This is someone who chooses communication over avoidance and is mature enough to let go of power struggles, making them emotionally supportive and level-headed.

Initially, there might be a hesitancy or emotional block on your end, perhaps due to past heartbreak or a fear of making the wrong choice again. But this person’s clear intentions and decisive nature will help you see things more clearly. Their actions will speak loudly, and they’ll show you that love doesn't have to come with confusion. You'll begin to trust yourself more around them, and that clarity will make it easier for you to open up.

They are intelligent, assertive, and driven—likely someone who charges forward when they know what they want. They might have a bold personality or a quick wit, and they’re not afraid to speak the truth. This person values honesty and progress, and once they decide to pursue you, they’ll do so with purpose. The connection may progress quickly once it starts, carried by strong communication and mutual respect. This person enters your life like a gust of wind—clearing the fog and pushing both of you toward something meaningful and transformative.

𐙚 • 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 2

Your future partner is likely someone who has recently come out of a period of isolation or deep introspection. They may have gone through a transformative experience that forced them to confront their inner world and now they’re ready to step back into life, more self-aware and open. This person may have previously struggled with indecision or being stuck in their ways but is now making an intentional effort to take control of their life and act with purpose.

They are charismatic, skilled, and driven—someone who knows how to use the tools at their disposal to create opportunities and make things happen. There’s a sense of passionate energy around them, like they’re on the verge of starting something exciting, whether it’s a creative pursuit, a new project, or even a fresh chapter in life. This person will bring a spark into your world, not just emotionally but also through shared experiences and dynamic energy.

There’s also a feeling of wholeness and completion surrounding this future connection. This person may have traveled a long personal journey to get where they are, and now they’re ready to share their life with someone who can match their energy and growth. Your relationship with them will likely feel like the closing of an old chapter and the beginning of a new, meaningful one—with potential for long-term harmony, success, and mutual expansion.

𐙚 • 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 3

Your future partner may initially come across as someone who has struggled with trust, communication, or immaturity in the past. They might have gone through a period of confusion, overthinking, or being unsure about their direction in life. This could stem from lessons they had to learn the hard way—perhaps from saying too much, too little, or not knowing how to navigate emotional conversations. When you meet them, they might still be healing from past experiences that shaped their perspective on love and connection.

They carry a deep emotional scar—perhaps from heartbreak or betrayal—that has forced them to confront their own vulnerabilities. This pain, while still present, has molded them into someone more self-aware and introspective. They're not looking for surface-level affection. Instead, they’re seeking something that brings balance, truth, and fairness into their life. They're serious about love and are ready to approach it with a sense of responsibility and integrity.

When they come into your life, the connection will feel undeniably strong. It’s not just romantic but deeply soulful, something that aligns with your values and your heart. There’s a feeling of choice and commitment between you both, one where mutual respect and emotional honesty play a big role. This person won’t shy away from showing you how much they care or from stepping into something meaningful with you.

They’re also generous—not just with time or resources, but with emotional effort and energy. This person values equality in relationships and wants to give just as much as they receive. They’re someone who believes love is a two-way street, and they’ll make sure you feel valued and supported. Their journey hasn't been easy, but it’s made them someone capable of deep, sincere love—ready to build something real with you.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

"I Love You" in Shakespearean English

Did my heart love til now? Forswear it, sight. For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night (Romeo and Juliet)

For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation (Henry VI)

Hear my soul speak, Of the very instant that I saw you, Did my heart fly at your service (Twelfth Night)

I burn, I pine, I perish (The Taming of the Shrew)

I do love nothing in the world so well as you (Much Ado About Nothing)

I humbly do beseech of your pardon, For too much loving you (Othello)

I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, ‘I love you’ (Henry V)

I love you more than words can wield the matter (King Lear)

I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest (Much Ado About Nothing)

I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes (Much Ado About Nothing)

I would not wish any companion in the world but you (The Tempest)

Lady, as you are mine, I am yours. I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange (Much Ado About Nothing)

My love is as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite (Romeo and Juliet)

O beauty, Till now I never knew thee (Henry VIII)

One half of me is yours, the other half yours - Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours (The Merchant of Venice)

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate (Sonnet XVIII)

So is mine eye enthrallèd to thy shape (A Midsummer Night’s Dream)

Sweet, above thought I love thee (Troilus and Cressida)

Thou art wise as thou art beautiful (A Midsummer Night’s Dream)

When you depart from me sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave (Much Ado About Nothing)

Source ⚜ More ways to say "I love you" ⚜ Terms of Endearment Word Lists: Love Pt. 1 Pt. 2 ⚜ Physiology of Love ⚜ Synonyms ⚜ Kinds of Love

[apoemaday]

Mrs. Faust

by Carol Ann Duffy

First things first -- I married Faust. We met as students, shacked up, split up, made up, hitched up, got a mortgage on a house, flourished academically, BA. MA. Ph.D. No kids. Two toweled bathrobes. Hers. His. We worked. We saved. We moved again. Fast cars. A boat with sails. A second home in Wales. The latest toys -- computers, mobile phones. Prospered. Moved again. Faust’s face was clever, greedy, slightly mad. I was as bad. I grew to love the lifestyle, not the life. He grew to love the kudos, not the wife. He went to whores. I felt, not jealousy, but chronic irritation. I went to yoga, t’ai chi, Feng Shui, therapy, colonic irrigation. And Faust would boast at dinner parties of the cost of doing deals out East. Then take his lust to Soho in a cab, to say the least, to lay the ghost, get lost, meet panthers, feast. He wanted more. I came home late one winter’s evening, hadn’t eaten. Faust was upstairs in his study, in a meeting. I smelled cigar smoke, hellish, oddly sexy, not allowed. I heard Faust and the other laugh aloud. Next thing, the world, as Faust said, spread its legs. First politics -- Safe seat. MP. Right Hon. KG. 50 Then banks -- offshore, abroad -- and business - Vice-­chairman. Chairman. Owner. Lord. Enough? Encore! Faust was Cardinal, Pope, knew more than God; flew faster than the speed of sound around the globe, lunched; walked on the moon, golfed, holed in one; lit a fat Havana on the sun. Then backed a hunch -- Invested in smart bombs, in harms, Faust dealt in arms. Faust got in deep, got out. Bought farms, cloned sheep, Faust surfed the Internet for like-­minded Bo-­Peep. As for me, I went my own sweet way, saw Rome in a day, spun gold from hay, had a facelift, had my breasts enlarged, my buttocks tightened; went to China, Thailand, Africa, returned, enlightened. Turned 40, celibate, teetotal, vegan, Buddhist, 41. Went blonde, redhead, brunette, went native, ape, berserk, bananas; went on the run, alone; went home. Faust was in. A word, he said, I spent the night being pleasured by a virtual Helen of Troy. Face that launched a thousand ships. I kissed its lips. Things is -- I’ve made a pact with Mephistopheles, the Devil’s boy. He’s on his way to take away what’s owed, reap what I sowed. For all these years of gagging for it, going for it, rolling in it, I’ve sold my soul. At this, I heard a serpent’s hiss, tasted evil, knew its smell, as scaly devil hands poked up right through the terracotta Tuscan tiles at Faust’s bare feet and dragged him, oddly smirking, there and then straight down to Hell. Oh, well. Faust’s will left everything -- the yacht, the several homes, the Lear jet, the helipad, the loot, et cet, et cet, the lot -- to me. C’est la vie. When I got ill, it hurt like hell. I bought a kidney with my credit card, then I got well. I keep Faust’s secret still -- the clever, cunning, callous bastard didn’t have a soul to sell.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

No One Noticed

Pairing: Javier Peña x Steve's Little Sister Reader Rating: Mature (for this chapter) Summary: You thought you'd never talk to Javier again... until a newspaper and a bouquet show up in your dressing room. Warnings: angst, yearning, pining, heartbreak, lying to your boyfriend, lying to your brother, lying to yourself that you can be perfectly normal about javier peña, jealousy, washington dc Words: 4,800

A/N: Listen, these two have some stuff to figure out, and as much as I want to post hot Javier Peña smut, I have a lot of feelings about them taking their time. (lol I say that and the next chapter will definitely have jealous Javi smut) Thank you to @devineconjuring for her dot eating. Her and @secretelephanttattoo's words of encouragement stopped me from rethinking this story, and I so very much appreciate them trying to coddle my brain.

Suburban Sparks Masterlist Masterlist

—-

“Amazing show, sweetheart,” Elliott’s accent drips with the sweetness you tell yourself you adore. His hug is warm and it does make your heart beat a bit faster, but all you can think of is how good it would feel to have Javier’s deep voice congratulate you while his strong arms are wrapped around you. Elliott’s arms simply feel like settling. 

It’s ironic that your costar, not Javier, is now holding you. Javier was the one who helped you get this role. His support and belief in you, his gruff words of encouragement–those are what carried you through auditions and anxiety-riddled nights going over your lines. He saw something in you that you often failed to see in yourself. Elliott was just the cute co-star you thought could mend your broken heart. 

Elliott pulls back from the hug, his green eyes searching yours for a reaction. 

You remember to act again. Act happy, act okay, act satisfied, act like you didn’t feel the pair of brown eyes that you always dream about watching as you stood on stage.

“Thank you, El,” you respond warmly as you turn to your dressing room door. “I’ll meet you back out here in ten for the party. I just need to freshen up.”

“Of course,” he smiles, leaving a kiss against your lips. You feel like such a liar as you turn and walk into your dressing room, closing the door behind you. 

You flick on the lights, relishing in a bit of quiet after the whirlwind of the day. A bright bouquet lying on your vanity catches your eye. 

You run your hands over the delicate petals and notice a newspaper underneath them. Above the nameplate, there is sharp, neat handwriting in blue. Javi.

Tears spring in your eyes, your heart begins racing, and the pit in your stomach turns into butterflies. He was here.

You were incredible. I knew you would be. - Jav

Under his note, a number with a DC area code is written. The air leaves your lungs, and you let out a soft sob, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks when you realize he’s just a phone call away again. A small, fragile laugh escapes your lips.

You rip his number off the newspaper, much like you ripped the photo of him all those years ago. You place the flowers in the sink of your tiny powder room. Now, you’ll have a part of him in your dressing room.

A few drops of Visine and a fresh coat of foundation help hide the fact that you were just in tears over Agent Javier Peña before you head out to rejoin Elliott and the rest of the cast for the opening night party. Now that's acting.

—-

After an hour of galavanting, empty conversations, and congratulations, you make an excuse. Drooping your posture and yawning, you tell everyone at the party you’re not feeling well. Elliott offers to take you back to your place, like the gentleman he always is. Squeezing his hand, you thank him and tell him to enjoy the night. The drops of guilt inside you fade as you walk outside and pull the newspaper clipping out of your jacket, tracing your fingers across the slight indentations where Javi’s pen pressed against the paper as he wrote his number.

You shouldn’t call; you should just move on, learn to fall in love with Elliott, and take the safe route. He’s kind, handsome, and just your type. But he’s not Javier. So, you tuck yourself against a building a street away from the bar and call the number.

"Hello?" His voice. It’s exactly how you remembered it: deep and comforting. You feel like you could cry.

"Javi." You breathe out, your hand gripping the phone as if it’ll float away.

“Hey. Congratulations. You were incredible.”

“Thank you,” you sigh. God, you wish you could see him. Where is he? What is he doing? Did he go home and wait for your call? Does he miss you as much as you miss him? Has he found it just as impossible to move on? “The flowers are beautiful… and the newspaper?"

“I-I was hoping we could read the news together like old times?” A wide smile spreads across your face. You want nothing more, but the wounds are still fresh. You still feel shipwrecked, unmoored by him leaving you, your heart stranded. But, a sliver of hope lights in your heart when you think of that bouquet of flowers and the man waiting on the other end of the line.

“I’d… I’d like that. What’s your address?”

He rattles off his address. Arlington, of course.

“Is it okay if I—if I come over?” you ask, your heart pounding against your chest.

“Please,” he breathes out, more needy than you’d ever expect to hear him.

—-

Your foot nervously taps against the linoleum of the subway car, faster and faster with each stop that brings you closer to Javier’s apartment. 

Finally, the tinny speaker announces the Crystal City stop. You practically rush off the train and up the steps, the cool air breezing across your skin when you exit the station. The streets are quiet in the late night hour. A chill runs across your body, goosebumps pricking at your skin as you realize you’re getting closer to Javi.

1111 19th Street looms large. Damn, the DEA has money. It’s one of those constructions you hate, a cold and modern building that comes in and ruins the skyline.

Standing before the intercom, you take a deep, steadying breath before pressing the button next to his name. “It’s me,” you say into the box. The buzz sounds almost immediately, as if he’s been waiting by the door.

The elevator ride feels endless. There’s a ding for every floor you pass, numbers climbing on the little board above the doors, your reflection in the mirrored walls revealing your nervous anticipation. The silver doors part, and suddenly, you're standing in front of Javier’s apartment.

Before you can knock, the door swings open. Javier stands in front of you, just as handsome and perfect as you remember him, looking both nervous and hopeful. The deep brown eyes you've missed so much drink you in.

"Hi," you breathe, suddenly feeling shy. You can’t believe you’re here at Javi’s door. You know him far better than anyone you’ve ever known, the connection of months of phone calls, of falling for the man of your dreams, yet this is only the third time you've been with him in person. 

"Hi," he replies, his hand coming up to rest behind his neck. “Do you want to come in?”

“I didn’t come here to chit-chat in the hall, Jav.” Jav. You forgot how good it feels to say his name. He steps aside with a nod, and you can feel the way his body tenses as you step through the doorway.

You lay your purse on the dining table, its surface untouched as if he never uses it. You shrug off your jacket, Javier’s eyes following every movement as the thin straps of your navy blue tank dress reveal your bare shoulders.

Your eyes sweep across his apartment, noticing how big it is for a single person. So this is what your taxes go to, huh? It’s filled with the usual furnishings found in the modern mega-luxe apartments popping up all over and gentrifying the coastline of the Potomac. Dark hardwood floors, barren white walls, and expansive windows with a view they’d put on the postcards at the touristy gift shops. A modern black leather couch and matching chairs frame a glass-top coffee table. Sleek lines, shiny silver furnishings, zero warmth.

He stands, his shoulders tense. You wonder if your body mirrors his or if you’re able to conceal how nervous you are. It’s a strange feeling to know somebody as intimately as you know him and yet feel like a total stranger in his space.

“It’s… nice,” you muse, your voice echoing in the quiet. “You could probably afford a nice area rug in here; might cut down on the echo.”

“I don’t do a lot of talking,” he responds. 

“Mm,” you hum. You wonder if he’s just as lonely as you–if not more. 

“Did you want to take a seat? Want something to drink?” he asks. 

“What do you have?”

“Water or beer.”

“A beer’s good, thanks.”

You settle on the cool leather cushion of his couch, happy to finally take a seat on something soft. You’re exhausted. The adrenaline of opening night is long gone, only replaced by the memory of finding the flowers and newspaper left by Javi. You thought tonight would end in a celebratory drunken stupor, finally allowing yourself a night to relax, ultimately leading to you following Elliott back to his place where you’d close your eyes and imagine Javier as his lips were against your skin. Now, you’re in this sparsely decorated apartment trying to swallow down your nerves as you hear the clink of two beer bottles being opened. 

When Javier comes back, his movements are stiff, and his broad shoulders seem to carry a weight, as if he’s not only nervous but sad, too. You feel like he may be thinking the same thing when he looks at you. Your legs are crossed, with your hands folded delicately over your knees to stop yourself from fidgeting too much.

He sits next to you, just close enough for you to feel the warmth of him, to breathe in the aroma of him–tobacco, mint, and cinnamon.

There’s a silence that settles over the two of you as you both drink your beer. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s weighted with longing and words unsaid.

Javier clears his throat softly, looking at you from the corner of his eye, his hand gripping his bottle tight.

“I knew you’d be amazing,” he says. The low baritone of his voice transports you back to all those months spent on the phone–his deep voice wishing you good night, telling you stories he thought he’d never share with anybody, believing in you and your talents.

You can feel a tear prick in your eye. You try to blink it away, but it disobeys and rolls down your cheek.

“Thanks, Jav,” your voice croaks out. His eyes snap to yours, widening when he sees your sorrow.

He rushes to cup your face with his large hand, his thumb sweeping to erase the solitary tear. You gasp at his touch. Six months since he touched you so tenderly, since he kissed you like you always dreamed, since he held you close as you both drifted to sleep. Two months since he cornered you in Steve’s upstairs hallway, his big brown eyes staring into your soul, sadness radiating off of him. The chill of walking away from him has stayed with you since, even as you tried to find happiness with somebody else.

He moves to pull away his hand, but you snap your hand up, clutching his and locking it in place. Your gaze pierces his as another tear falls.

“Don’t,” you whisper. His eyes soften, and he nods.

You both remain locked in each other’s eyes, your hand resting on his while he cradles your cheek.

You’ve felt so lost, so adrift without him, trying to live an incomplete life. But now Javi’s touch has found you again.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I missed you so much,” you choke out.

His thumb gently strokes your cheek, wiping away another tear that escapes. His touch feels so familiar, yet it’s so new.

"I didn't know if–” he starts, then pauses, swallowing hard. "I didn't know if you’d call."

You let out a shaky breath. "How could I not? After everything…"

His eyes search yours with hope and uncertainty, and you give him that hope when you lean into his touch. God, he hurt you. You’ve ached for him since that first night you didn’t hear from him. You’ve replayed that terrible call in your head over and over since. You vowed to move on, you vowed to let yourself heal over time, you vowed to live your life without Javier Peña until the newspaper and flowers showed up on your dressing table.

“Why did you disappear?” you ask.

“I was scared,” he confesses, his voice just as low as yours. “You deserve so much more than me, so I wanted to protect you. From me, from my past, from Ste—”

“Jav,” you interrupt sharply. “I’m the only one that can protect me.“

Javier's hand falls from your face, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"You're right," he says softly. "I should have trusted you to make your own choices."

You reach out, gently tilting his chin up until his eyes meet yours again. "I chose you, Javi. I still choose you."

“I’m sorry.” 

“I know Jav, I know,” you reassure. “We can go on and on about this, but right now, I just want to be here with you. Just pretend that the last couple of months haven’t happened. I want to read the news again.” 

He gives you a slightly sheepish smile. “So, I actually left you my newspaper, but do you want to watch the news?” he asks.

You nod, almost too enthusiastically. “I’d love that. We’ve never watched TV together.”

He shifts on the couch, leaning back and pulling you against him, his strong arm wrapping around you before he turns the TV on and cuddles you against his broad body.

All thoughts of the past couple of months–the yearning to hear Javier’s voice again, the loneliness that had overtaken your heart–disappear as you tilt your head up to look at him, admiring his handsome face.

He catches you staring. “Yeah?”

“Sorry, I just… I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

His arm tightens around you. “I’m glad you are.” He leans down, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

You rest your head against his broad chest, savoring his closeness and listening to the steady beat of his heart. Your tired eyes blink heavily as the news anchor’s voice fades into background noise, the calming cadence of Javier’s breathing lulling you to sleep.

—-

“Hey,” a familiar deep voice awakens you. Javi. You must be dreaming. “It’s late.”

Your eyes open, adjusting to the darkness of Javier’s apartment. The TV has long since turned off, the ambient light from the city all that shines through the large windows. You’re still nestled against Javier’s chest. You both have shifted, your arm wrapped around his stomach, both of his wrapped protectively around your body.

“What time is it?” you ask, still hazy from sleep.

“Just after 3. We both fell asleep.”

You sit up slowly, untangling yourself from Javi’s arms and stretching your stiff muscles, before you realize. “The subway–” you start, but Javier cuts you off.

“It’s closed. You can stay here if you want. I can take the couch, and you can have the bed.”

Your heart races at the thought of spending the night in Javier’s bed, his scent surrounding you. You recall all those nights on the phone, imagining what it would be like to fall asleep next to him, to wake up in his arms.

“Or… you can sleep in your bed with me,” you suggest, hopeful and hesitant.

“I’d like that,” he whispers.

—-

Javier’s a true gentleman, as much as you wish he weren’t. He leaves you a white shirt emblazoned with DEA in bold, black letters across the chest and a pair of basketball shorts on the bathroom counter.

The feeling of trepidation is overshadowed by excitement as you emerge from the bathroom. Javier’s eyes track you as you cross the room. He’s settled in bed, clad in a light gray shirt, the covers resting against his chest and his back against the headboard.

He pulls down the covers on the bed for you, and you slip under the soft sheets, already feeling the warmth of his body. He turns the lamp off before he shuffles down, the bed dipping behind you as he sighs. You turn to face him, your eyes slowly adjusting to the dark.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “More than okay.”

His thumb strokes your cheekbone gently. “Can I do something?” His question is almost whispered out, his voice deep and low. 

“Of course,” you answer without even hesitating. 

He leans in, closing the small distance between you, and kisses you.

Gentle, tender, full of a promise of more… when you’re both ready. His lips are soft and warm, just like before. Now, you get to take your time, gentle and unhurried. 

He pulls away, far too soon for your liking, resting his forehead against yours. “Good night. I’m happy you’re here.”

“I am too, Jav. Thanks for coming to opening night.”

“Of course,” his arms wrap around you, cuddling you close against him, just like the first night you spent together. 

You just had the biggest opening night of your career, performing the play you’re headlining in front of a sold-out crowd, but that pales in comparison to the moment you have now. Finally, Javier Peña is back in your life.

—-

You wake to a gentle nudge against your shoulder and Javier’s slight smile as he holds up a cup of coffee and a paper.

“Morning,” his deep voice rasps. “Want to read?”

You smile and yawn, stretching your arms above your head, feeling Javi’s eyes on you the whole time. You nod, sitting up and accepting the mug from him. You take a sip as Javier sits beside you on the bed, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you next to him.

“Front page or sports?” he asks.

“Front page.” You curl up closer to him. You dreamt of these moments.

"Let's see what's going on in the world today.”

You sip your coffee while you listen to Javier read, his arm tightening around you with each story, as if you’ll float away. Your fingers trace lazy circles against his chest, and Javier groans in the middle of an article about some sort of reform bill.

“You gotta stop that.”

You chuckle, pulling your hand away. 

Javier turns the page, reading an article about local politics, but your cell phone suddenly blares to life on the nightstand. You jump, startled, and reach to grab your phone.

STEVE flashes on the screen.

“It’s Steve,” you tell Javi, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

You take a deep breath to steel yourself before you hit the answer button. “Hello?”

“Hey, kid!” Steve’s cheerful voice booms through the speaker. “How’d opening night go? It’s not too early, right?”

You glance over at Javi, who’s watching you intently.

“No, you’re fine. It was good.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Connie and I will be there tonight. We can’t wait.”

The guilt of talking to Steve while his friend sits right next to you feels like it will swallow you whole.

“That’s great,” you respond, trying to keep your voice light. “I can’t wait to see you both.”

Javi shifts beside you, his eyes focusing on a point in the distance, his hand gripping the newspaper tightly.

“Do you have dinner plans? Con and I would love to take you and Elliott out after.”

You feel your chest tighten at the mention of Elliott, your eyes instantly flicking to Javier sitting rigidly by your side, his jaw clenching.

“Um,” you clear your throat. Javier looks over at you, his brown eyes widening when he takes in the panic set on your face. He slightly nods, allowing you to continue how you need to. “Y-yeah, that sounds great, Steve.”

You nervously fiddle with the neckline of Javier’s shirt, feeling stuck between making him happy and keeping up appearances with Steve–and Elliott.

"Perfect! We'll see you tonight, then. Break a leg, kid."

As you end the call, it feels like a slight chasm has now formed between you and Javier. The newspaper crinkles in Javier’s hands as he folds it. His whole body looks tense, and you feel the anger radiating off of him.

“Elliott,” he says. Not a question, just an acknowledgment. Your chest feels tight at how low his voice is. 

“He’s… we kind of hit it off after both getting cast and he’s been nothing bu—”

"Is it serious?" Javier interrupts.

You set your coffee mug on the nightstand, buying yourself a moment to find the right words.

"No," you say finally, looking into his eyes.

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again, his eyes examining your face as if searching for the right words.

His shoulders rise with a deep breath. “I want you to do what you need to do,” he softly says. “I want you to pick who you want to pick.”

You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I want to pick you,” you nervously say, “but, the play and Steve… and I just can’t. If we do this,” you exhale, “then you’ll be all I can focus on.” 

“I know,” he soothes, running his thumb across your knuckle. “Friends, for right now.”

“Friends,” you smile and nod, ignoring how badly you want to pull him towards you and kiss his plush lips. 

—

Watching Javier exist in his own space teaches you new things about him you never wondered to yourself. Like, he’s actually not very good at making eggs. He attempts to make you an omelet but instead serves you scrambled eggs with a lopsided grin. He’s very methodical while cooking, a towel slung across his shoulder, every spill or drip instantly wiped up.

He takes a seat at the dining table next to you. “I’ve never had a meal here,” he quietly muses, covering his eggs in black pepper and a couple dashes of Tapatio hot sauce.

“Well, I’m glad I could help you break it in.”

You feel oddly at home with him, comfortable sharing in such a mundane morning ritual. Your heart aches at the realization of what could be.

“What time do you need to be at the theatre?” he asks.

“Not until three, but I should probably get back home soon. Need to change, go over my lines,  ya’ know?”

Javier nods, his eyes dropping to DEA stretched across your chest. “You look good in my clothes,” he says so low, you’re pretty sure it’s to himself.

“Friends, remember?” you tease, though you’re pretty sure he can feel the heat radiating off you.

“Right.” He clears his throat. “I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s okay, Jav, I can take the subway.”

“I’m not letting you take the subway in last night’s clothes,” he firmly responds. “Not when I have a perfectly good car.”

Your heart aches when you realize that Javi and his chivalrous ways–the protective way he can get without being overbearing, how he cares in his own quiet way–are back in your life.

“I’ll just go get dressed,” you say, quickly rising from the table and turning as you feel tears sprout in your eyes.

—-

It all feels so surreal as you stand in Javier’s bathroom, staring at yourself in the same mirror he uses to shave, removing his shirt and folding it neatly. A single tear trickles down your cheek, followed by another, then another until you’re gripping the edge of his sink, trying to muffle your sobs with his t-shirt in the same way you muffled your moans for him that first night.

The past months without him come rushing back. The sleepless nights when you would stare at the phone willing it to ring, the way your heart would leap and instantly fall when it would ring and it wasn’t him. The fear that Steve would mention Javier, the cruel realization that Javier had moved here and not told you when Steve casually mentioned it. Confiding in Connie in that guest room, her arm wrapped around you as you confided in her, telling her how you had fallen for Javier Peña, of all people.

You take a shuddering breath, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. You can’t let Javier see you like this, not now, while everything seems so fresh and yet so fragile between you. You splash cold water on your face and breathe. You tell yourself to act again as you slip your dress back on and take a deep breath before you open the bathroom door.

Javier stands in his bedroom, his hand raised as if he were about to knock. His jaw ticks, and his brown eyes search yours, taking in the hint of redness that remains in them.

“You alright?” he asks softly, concern furrowing his brows.

You nod, unable to trust your voice not to give you away as you hand him his shirt and shorts.

His eyes continue to search yours. Your chest tightens, your eyes burning with unshed tears. He’s been able to easily read you from the moment you met him in your big brother’s backyard. You tell yourself you’re a good actor, but Javi’s always been able to see past it, even through a phone line thousands of miles away.

His lips part, indecision flickers across his eyes, before he tightly shuts them, as if he stops himself from speaking the words he wants to say.

“Come on, let me take you home.”

—-

He leads you through the parking garage, the only sound your footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. Javi’s hand hovers protectively just inches from your back, his touch sending a spark against your skin each time his palm brushes against you.

God, you didn’t even know what type of car he drove, and now he’s unlocking and holding open the door of a maroon Jeep for you.

You slide into the passenger seat, watching as Javier jogs around to the driver’s side. When he settles in beside you, the Jeep feels so much smaller.

He looks over at you, before he puts his aviators on.

“Just tell me where to go,” he says, as he starts the engine.

You navigate Javi across the bridge, farther away from his clean, corporate neighborhood with slick-looking tall glass buildings, into your offbeat area with various-colored row homes.

You can’t help but steal glances of him. The morning light gleams across his profile—the strong line of his jaw, the sharp angle of his nose, the perfect curve of his plush lips. He’s so close to you, and yet you still feel so far away.

Javier effortlessly navigates through the twists and turns of your neighborhood, almost as if he’s been here before. As your street approaches and your apartment building comes into view, your hands fidget in your lap. You’re not ready to let this reconnection end; it all seems so fragile. Not even twenty-four hours ago, you were going through the motions with Elliott, trying to convince yourself you could be happy.

“Just up there on the right,” you direct softly. “The blue building.”

Javier pulls up to the curb, shifting the car into park before turning to face you. The soft rumbling of the Jeep idling beneath you feels like it matches the hum of your pulse.

"Thank you for the ride," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Did you–did you want to come up?”

You can see the thick swallow travel down his throat. “I think it’s best I don’t. You know… friends.”

You nod. “Thanks again, Jav.”

“Anytime,” he responds softly, both hands still gripping the steering wheel like if he let go, he’d grab you.

You can feel the sear of his gaze as you exit his car and walk up the steps to your building’s door. You turn your head and smile at him, and he gifts you a smile back before you turn and walk through the door.

—-

You feel like you want to cry with each step you take up to your apartment. The hallway you travel every day seems longer than usual, as the distance between you and Javier grows. He’s so close now, and yet he still feels so far away.

You drop your purse on your tiny dining table covered in highlighted scripts and art supplies. It’s only 11 AM–you know you need to shower, but you don’t want to rid yourself of the smell and the warmth of Javi. You also should probably call Elliott, to keep up appearances and let him know you’re feeling better.

When you unzip and reach into your purse to grab your phone, you feel cotton and pull out Javier's white DEA shirt. Your heart skips a beat. He’s left you his shirt again.

—-

My permatags: @forspringcleaning, @schnarfer, @mothandpidgeon

Friends of Sparks. (Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed. @secretelephanttattoo, @sawymredfox, @jolapeno, @almostfoxglove, @thelightsandtheroses, @jokesonthem, @miss-oranje-disco-dancer, @bitchesuntitled, @goodwithcheese, @jessthebaker, @littlemisspascal, @harriedandharassed, @moel-jiller, @mandaloriankait, @baenedict221b, @pasc4lfuzz @kirsteng42, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @lilac-boo

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Hidden Treasure

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1653

Summary: You surprise Bucky by wearing a gift he got you and he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

Warnings: swearing, smut, butt plug

A/N: For @avengers-assemble-bingo AA-Kinky Bingo with square Public Sex & Butt Plug. Card (KB010)

A/N 2: Thank you to my Beta readers @late-to-the-party-81 & @lfnr-blog-blog-blog also @late-to-the-party-81 for the header & Stella @stellar-solar-flare for the idea behind this.

Please Read, Reblog, & Comment. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site or run through AI. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen.

Tonight was going to be a night to remember because you had planned a special surprise for your boyfriend, Bucky. He’s always talked about being spontaneous in your relationship and you’d always been eager to indulge him. The pair of you fucked a lot and literaly anywhere you could get your hands on each other, so it wasn’t surprising that tonight you’d had the idea to indulge in some public sex. To make it even better you’d also decided to wear a pink jewel butt plug. The pair of you always talked about different positions and scenarios to incorporate in your sex lives, so tonight you were going to plan the best sexcapade ever with your man.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror and when you turned around you could see the pink jewel sparkling at you. Just looking at it, you knew Bucky was going to lose his mind when he realised you were wearing it. You pulled the cute dress you had on down over your hips and hid the hidden treasure, wondering how long it would take him to find it. 

When you heard a knock on the door, a giggle escaped your lips. When you open it, Bucky is standing there, just taking you in. “Hey, doll, you're looking fine as hell tonight. Are you sure you don’t wanna stay in and cuddle? I could do that thing you like with my tongue.” He pokes it out from between his lips, attempting to demonstrate, but you stopped him.

“Bucky, you promised to take me out tonight. We can have fun later I promise,” you plead with him.

“But I’m feeling pretty horny,” he pouted. “I just want to sink my cock deep in your pussy and feel you squeeze around it.” A little frisky, Bucky chased you around the apartment as you squealed in delight. When he eventually caught you and pinned you against the wall, he reached around to squeeze your butt, but instead nudged your butt plug.

“What do we have here?” He questioned you with a lear as he lifted up your dress, spun you and took a good look at the toy nestled between your butt cheeks. Looking back over your shoulder, you saw Bucky’s mouth drop open and you swore he had hearts in his eyes. “Oh, doll, you’re in so much trouble. No panties and a butt plug? Now I have to play with you before we go out.” 

“Bucky,” you whined out. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Well, I’m definitely surprised, that's for sure.” Bucky stepped back, his hands on his hips, and he licked his lips.

“Please, let's just go out for a little while and then we can play afterwards. I promise you can take what you want then. I’m all dressed up just for you so we can go on a date. Please, Bucky, let's go have some fun tonight.” You were at the point of begging and you weren’t ashamed to be doing so.

“I can’t say no to you, doll. Not now, not ever. But later your body is mine. Let’s head out and go to the new club. I’ve heard it's very nice and that Tony Stark is an amazing host.”

“Sounds good, Bucky.” You grabbed your keys and ID before skipping out the door with your boyfriend trailing behind you. As you locked up Bucky slapped your butt and chuckled to himself. You knew his patience was going to wear thin tonight, so you were going to have to make the most out of your date.

Bucky drove you both to the Stark club which luckily wasn’t far from your apartment. Although, having you arrived and observed the large line outside, you started to doubt if you would actually get in tonight. However, Bucky just grabbed your hand and bypassed everyone, heading straight to the door. When he stopped in front of the bouncer, Bucky gave his name and just like that, he let you both in.

“I didn’t know you knew someone here.”

Bucky smiled at you. “I know the manager Steve, we go back many years.”

“I’m impressed. Let’s grab a drink — I need liquid courage if I’m going to dance.”

"You have as many as you want doll, but I'm gonna just have the one - I am driving after all."

You made your way over to the bar and Bucky ordered a pair of beers, paying for both. Transaction completed, you walked over to a table and sat down. You both started talking about how your days have been. Bucky started, telling you about how he’s ready to fire an employee named John for all his screw ups he has been making and in turn you told him about your crazy day at work. As you were talking, Bucky stared at you with his cool blue eyes, and when you finished he asked, “What made you finally choose the butt plug?”

Your cheeks got hot and you squirmed in your seat at the mention of it, making the item itself shift inside you. “You said you wanted me to surprise you sometime, so I figured I’d do just that and use the butt plug you bought me for my birthday a few weeks ago.” You shifted again, but this time more purposeful, keeping your gaze locked on your boyfriend’s. “Have to say it fits nice and snug. Makes me yearn for your big cock to be inside of me.”

Bucky growled. “Keep talking like that and I may just have to give you what you want.”

In response, you seductively drank your beer, your tongue swirling around the top before your lips wrapped around the top as you took a long pull of your drink. When you swallowed you made a show of it and licked your lips. For good measure, you added a small throaty moan which threatened to turn into a giggle as Bucky picked up his own drink and started to chug it. You knew you’d got to him. His cock was probably hard enough to pound nails and he wasn’t waiting any longer.

“Come with me,” he said gruffly, as he placed his now empty beer bottle on the table.

You finished off your own drink just as quickly and took his outstretched hand. Bucky pulled you efficiently through the crowds of people and toward the back of the club. He pushed through an exit-only door and headed outside, pulling you along in his wake. As soon as the door closed he was on you. 

His lips crashed against yours in a heated kiss and his hands grabbed your ass. You moaned into his mouth when he pulled your dress up over your hips and started playing with the butt plug. The sensation was so good, and you could feel your pussy getting wet.

“Wait until we get home — my cock is going to replace that plug. I’m going to fuck that ass real good.”

“Fuck, Bucky. I need you.” You kissed him all over his face, waiting for him to dominate you.

“Then you’ll have me,” he replied, huskily. 

Bucky lifted you off your feet and you quickly wrapped your legs around his trim waist, your back resting against the wall as Bucky pulled himself free of his pants. Rubbing his cock through your wet folds until he was slick with your arousal made him groan, but he didn’t delay in placing the tip of his cock at your entrance and sinking into you. Now it was your turn to let out a noise of pleasure. However, he allowed you no time to adjust, immediately thrusting up into you, hard and fast. The pair of you moan, not holding anything back and you meet him thrust for thrust as he takes you apart piece by piece.

The thought of getting caught spurred you on as you let Bucky take control of your body. He thrust into you over and over again, his eyes locked with yours. On a particularly hard thrust, he sealed his lips over yours and swallowed your moans. 

“Fuck princess,” he mumbled against you. “You feel so tight around me. Gonna let me fill you up like a good girl?”

You answered him with a filthy kiss, before adding, “I want it, Buck. Need you to fill me up.”

Harder and faster Bucky pistoned into you as you panted his name. One hand reached between you and he started to rub at your clit with quick motions which was all that you needed to tip over the edge, your panting turning to a cry that echoed into the night's sky. 

“Bucky!”

Your walls squeezed and spasmed around his cock which made Bucky’s pace falter. However, as soon as you came down from your high he chased his orgasm with a few hard thrusts, before he spilled inside of you. 

For a few moments Bucky didn’t move, just catching his breath. However, he didn’t wait too long before he pulled out of you and placed you back on your feet. Tucking himself back into his pants, he then helped you smooth some of the wrinkles from your dress before he leaned back into you and kissed you like his life depended on it.

“Princess, can we go home now? I’m more than ready to play with this butt plug and your ass.” 

“But Bucky, I didn't even get to dance tonight,” you pouted at him.

“I’ll do the horizontal tango with you all night long, instead,” Bucky smirked back at you as you giggled. “This time we won’t have to rush and I can take my time with you. What do you say, princess?”

“How can I say no to this handsome face? Fine, but next week you’re bringing me back here for the full experience. Deal?”

“Deal, love. Now let’s hurry before I have to take you in the car.”

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[moraxussy]

You Can't Take One Without The Other

Damian Al Ghul x Twin!reader

Content Warnings: mention of the word "abuse", nothing major, and not proof read:3

Word Count: 646

Despite her seemingly cold demeanor accompanied by her unmoving stature. Talia Al Ghul is a woman—a mother that lets her hard shell peel open when it comes to what's hers—her children.

Damian Al Ghul, her prodigy, blood born assassin, but also her beloved son. So composed and calculated yet also holds a temper that it easily triggered. Trained to kill on the spot without mercy, the young boy is honed to secure any emotion that hinders his mission—the Al Ghul's mission. He was made to not let any other being get in his way, to use all means necessary as long as he's able to give expected results, preferably exceed them. Yet despite his killer instincts and apathetic front, he is a boy of value. He believes blood over all matters.  He cherishes his family to such a strong degree that he's willing to kill just to preserve and protect it. No outer force can sever his belief on this. But it doesn't stop at family. Damian adores animals and takes care of them unconditionally. It pains him to see any of those creatures hurt in any way. Which pushed him to pursue the path of veganism.

The Demon Prince, Heir to the Shadows, and Son of Assassins....

Damian Al Ghul

Damian may possess the prowess and talents meant to satisfy the legacy of Al Ghul, never forget his other biological half, his twin sister.

The youngest, Talia's sweetheart, her doll, and her precious killer. Her little girl, the same as Damian, trained to be the perfect assassin for their family's legacy and for the preservation of the world, isn't just a weapon, she is also a daughter she dearly loved with all her heart. The mother might say she doesn't pick favorites, but one might think otherwise once you see how she treats the two differently. Although tender towards both, Talia can't help but train Damian a little harsher than her heiress. If you try to argue with her about this, she would just shut you down. But deep down, all she wants to do is give her daughter the childhood her mother failed to experience while also helping her build strong walls to protect herself once their mother leaves them on their own devices to strive for independence. Of course, this doesn't make the daughter twin an ordinary girl. She also values family and cares for animals but not the same degree as her brother. Believing that animals are a resource meant for humans for which they should be treated with respect and value if one wishes to utilize its maximum potential. This contrast in stands causes quarrels between the two during moments involving any animal. Not to mention she as well possesses the  strength and capabilities that qualifies her as an excellent assassin whose efficiency in the shadows allows her to parry and counter any attack thrown to her by her foes.

The Demon Princess, Heiress to The Shadows, Daughter of Assassins, and Talia's Second Chance...

You

The Duo of the Shadows, The Successors of the Demon, The Treasure of Talia Al Ghul

Together, no enemy can stop the twins. No matter how harsh nor how inhumane the training they are put through, as long as each twin is there to root for the other, they are ready to take the abuse. In the glory of their legacy. In the name of Ra's Al Ghul's greatest aspiration.

But what will happen if a new variable is introduced to the family of demons? A man of night once again reminded of his time in the shadows. A wake up call for the Dark Knight that what happened all those years ago gave birth to consequences that he now has to bear.

Will the bat be able to handle his demons? Will a mother finally let her young fly on their own?

Notes:

Hi so this is my first time making a batman based fic. I'm still new to the community so I'm basing on just common knowledge. I really wanted to try and focus on how Damian and the reader would be in the clutches of the shadows. I'm still learning though!

[charliedawn]

Hi Charlie! I love your work, but I was wondering, what about something about Bowers gang from IT and a reader? (Sorry for mistakes, English is not my first language)

Henry Bowers

The first time you met Henry, you thought he was just a terrible bully who just liked to inflict pain. But with time, you learnt to differentiate true evil from scared evil. Henry was scared and because being a bully gave him that sense of power he thought he needed—he kept being violent.

Henry grew up in a highly abusive household. His father, Butch Bowers, was a violent racist who subjected Henry to severe physical and emotional abuse. This trauma warped Henry into a sadistic bully who takes his frustrations out on others.

His bullying of the Losers' Club was fueled by hatred and a desire for control.

Therefore, you decided to confront him about it. You were brave and knew that if you wanted to help him, you needed to be gentle and patient—very patient. So, you kept trying to talk to him. At first, he mocked you and pretended he wasn’t interested in anything you had to say…

But little by little, he realised that you truly wanted to help him. One day as his father had hit him a little too hard, he came crawling out of his house and decided to call you…

You didn’t even hesitate before running to get him—knowing that he needed help and that he had called you first for a reason.

You found him and helped him up before inviting him into your house. True, he was dangerous and could sometimes borderline on psycho behaviour…but you recalled how desperate he was on the phone and decided that this was for the best. You patched him up and when he woke up—he firstly panicked before realising what you had done for him…

Since that day, Henry seemed a little less inclined on trying to bully the Losers, or spending time with the gang and spent more time observing you…He noticed that you liked flowers, cookies and ice cream…

So, he decided to pay you back for your kindness by buying (stealing) you all three of them. After that, you became quite good friends and for some reason…Pennywise’s voice seemed to dull at the back of his head before disappearing completely.

He had another voice of reason now.

And turns out ? It felt pretty good…

Vic Criss

Vic was the most reluctant member of the gang when it came to bullying and it showed. He often went along with Henry’s plans but often showed signs of unease when things escalated too far.

He tried to stop the gang a few times from going too far, but nothing could stop Henry or Patrick when they decided they wanted someone to suffer…He told you that. He always wanted to stop, to stop being so bad and violent but…he couldn’t.

He was scared of Henry and of being alone.

He knew he wouldn’t survive on his own.

One day, he cried because of it and that’s when he met you. You didn’t judge him and only wordlessly sat down next to him—offering him company…You offered him your hand. He took it.

You knew he was always more quiet and reluctant than the others. You could feel it. So one day, you decided to take him away from the gang to talk to him. You took his hand and ignored the rest of the gang who threw insults at you and once you were alone with him, you turned around and said that if he wanted someone to watch his back…then you were there.

You told him he didn’t need them or to be scared of them. He was strong—stronger than he gave himself credit for…

He refused—of course.

But the next time you found yourself in trouble with the gang and Patrick almost hurt you, that was when Vic snapped and punched him in the face before you both ran away from the rest of the gang. Once you were far enough, he asked what you were going to do next…

And then, you told him with a large grin that you had bought two tickets out of Derry—if he was interested.

Vic grinned and hugged you tightly…

Belch Huggins

Belch is a follower and acts as the gang’s enforcer, providing physical intimidation when needed. But deep down ? He is a sweet kid. He just learnt how to…turn it off because it usually ended up with him being hurt.

He was a lonely kid in middle school until he met Henry. Henry gave him a purpose, he made him think he was useful—but just as a mindless follower with big arms. So he followed and punched whoever Henry said. He was loyal to him because he felt he owed it to him.

…Until Henry asked him to punch YOU.

He had never told anyone, but he had a soft spot for you. You had grown up together. Your parents were basically friends and you were neighbours.

He hesitated as Henry shouted at him to punch you, hurt you, turn your face to mush. He was holding you by the collar—his fist raised in the air…but he felt tears in his eyes.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt you.

He released you and you tried to run away, but Henry suddenly lunged at you. He tried to hurt you and before you knew it, Belch was throwing him off you. He then shouted at you to run, and you did. He held Bowers back as long as he could until Patrick and Vic got him off and Henry started beating Belch up—quickly followed by Patrick.

Belch was in pain and suddenly, there was a loud honk. They all looked up to find you inside your car…ready to charge. Henry, Patrick and Vic quickly got out of the way and you stopped just next to Belch before opening the door.

"Get in !"

He didn’t need to be told twice and jumped inside before you started the car again. You then drove away and once you were far enough, Belch relaxed.

"Thanks…"

You smiled.

"No problem…"

Patrick Hockstetter

Patrick was a true monster. There was nothing kind or particularly positive about him. He took pleasure in tormenting others…He was detached from reality and viewed himself as superior to everyone else, showing clear signs of sociopathy. He drowned kittens and killed his own little brother !

You called child services.

He would thank you later…once a little better and not surrounded by so much violence.

You would visit regularly though, to check on him and give him news from Derry and the gang.

[fangsandfeels]

I've seen the "Non-ascended Astarion ending is bad for him because you have to persuade him to reject the ritual" opinion...

..implying that he never really wanted not to ascend, it's you the player who selfishly forces him to give up on his goal. To prove their point, they state that you can get a good ending out of all other companion's quests without using Persuasion at all, except for Astarion.

And boy did I want to talk about this...

(In fact, everything I wanted to say has already been told in this amazing meta post, but I still gotta ramble)

First of all, Astarion was going through an intense PTSD. The game gave him a debuff to show how badly going back to the place of his torment was affecting him. Larian couldn't make it more obvious that he wasn't thinking clearly.

Second, there is one thing all abusers have in common: they destroy their victim's feelings of self-worth to the point, the victim no longer wants or knows how to ask for help or have relationships outside their abusive circle.

Who would want you like this? Look at yourself, you think you're better than me? You're nothing. Who would want to waste their time on you? You think somebody else would treat you better?

Since entering the Cazador's palace, Astarion is reliving his worst moments. Initially, he takes it in stride, hiding his discomfort underneath performative and emotional expressiveness. He talks about how he spent time in the bedrooms where he never did any sleeping, about the kennels where he was tortured, about the barracks where he was sent to when he "deserved neither carrot nor stick". Bad memories, but he shares them with Tav because he trusts them with his scars already. They might as well know the rest.

But after descending into the dungeon, Astarion starts spiraling into self-loathing at a break-neck speed. He used to think that all Cazador victims he ever brought to him were long gone, drained, and discarded. A horrible, undeserved death, yet the thought of them not having to suffer for too long was a small consolation, one of the threads holding his sanity together.

But then it turns out that they weren't dead. They were turned. Locked away deep underground, alone with their new selves, with the hunger and isolation. They did suffer. All these years, they suffered, buried in this tomb - because of him. Cazador may have turned them, but it was Astarion who brought them to him. And they remembered it. They recognized him. The monster who stole them from their home. The monster who ruined their life. Monster. Just like Cazador.

So, as if his PTSD wasn't enough, this revelation was another blow to his grip on himself, his perception of himself. His confident facade was shattering - and in his head, he was starting to think that Tav's idea of him, of who he is, was shattering as well. He tried to warn them before. He said he couldn't be what they saw in him. Whatever person they believed him to be had never existed - and Tav was finally coming to realize that as they walked through the gallery of his sins, looking his victims in the eyes and hearing out what they had to say. Of course, Tav hated him now. They had to. How could they not?

So, at the end, he is scared. Terrified. He bit off more than he could chew by walking into the manor and thinking he had only six fellow spawns to deal with. He saw their lives as a small price to pay because Cazador made sure to erase any solidarity between them. He made them torture each other and compete with each other. He twisted the very meaning of family bonds to his perverted liking, and he knew that by doing so, he would make sure every single one of them would get a whiplash from anyone trying to mention family in a positive connotation. Astarion takes no issue with getting rid of his "brothers" and "sisters" because he is fully aware that had the roles been reversed, they would have sacrificed him without a second thought. And he was certain that Tav would change their mind once they learned more about his brethren.

But the spawns in the dungeon...All the faces he remembered. All the lovers he lured. They did nothing wrong. They never hurt him. They never tortured him. Their only mistake was to trust him.

The revelation horrifies him. His first response is to be shocked, overwhelmed with emotion - and then he has to remind himself that sacrifices must be made. He feigns indifference. He tries to cover his internal conflict with gallows humor. But his flippant mask keeps slipping as he lapses from indifference to anger, to guilt, to begging Tav not to hate him as his greatest crimes glare back at him and claw at him, shouting out threats and seething with hatred.

He can't bear the thought of dealing with all the people whose lives he helped to destroy. He can't do anything for them. Just killing Cazador won't undo what he did to them. He will never be anything but a monster in their eyes. And this is what he deserves to be. He will always be reminded of what he is.

He has no choice but to do the Ritual.

He has no idea what will happen to him after he is done - he isn't a planner. He has never been. But at this point, he doesn't see his soul as something worthy of preserving - and by association, he extends that to other spawns. He knows it all too well because he remembers how it felt. He dissociates, projecting everything he hated about himself onto Cazador's victims, trying to rationalize why he should live and why they must die while he actively avoids the truth.

Completing the ritual is no longer about being free. Or protecting himself and his lover. It's about running away. Even when Astarion has Cazador at his mercy, he still thinks of running away. Getting lost forever. So nobody could ever hurt him.

A part of him even realizes that it means running away from Tav too. But Tav can leave, he naively thinks, not knowing the full consequences of the ritual. Tav will leave to find someone else, someone better, and he will start everything anew, a king of his castle.

So, of course, Tav has to reach out to him through that thick haze of fear, anger, and self-hatred. Persuasion isn't about strongarming someone into doing what you want. It's not subjugation or emotional blackmail. It's reasoning with someone. And that is exactly what Tav does - reasons with Astarion after watching him mentally struggle, after seeing his genuine shock and fear, after understanding that he isn't fully on board with the idea.

It's true, vampire spawns tend to gravitate toward power, especially if nothing is pulling them back. A vampire spawn is a feared and scorned creature - it no longer matters whether they were an unwilling victim, forcefully taken and turned. They are seen not as an individual but as the extension of their master - and the only natural transition for them is to get on the top of the food chain. The only way to make a name and become treated as something more.

Astarion saw power as the mean to safety and freedom, first and foremost. Ironically, he never planned beyond securing these two priorities. He never saw himself after accomplishing his goals, and it's kinda amazing how people can make conclusions about his hedonism because he misses petty vanities, wants to drink blood from a goblet, and sleep on silken sheets. The man who was held and tortured in the kennels, fed rats, and had to stitch and fix his only set of clothes over and over to keep it presentable, the man who has never felt happy for most of his conscious non-life is called hedonistic for wanting nice things. For still wanting to take care of himself for once.

He wasn't harboring any grand plans, conquests, or schemes. Even his idea of taking control of the Absolute was abstract and shapeless because he didn't care about getting control over the most influential people as much as he was afraid of breaking whatever protected him from Cazador's domination. He never really knew what to do with power aside from keeping Cazador and the likes of him at bay.

The way Astarion behaves in a relationship also speaks tons of how controlling he really is...or how he isn't controlling at all. When his romance with Tav transforms into something real, and he enters a new territory, Astarion is empowered to make decisions and think about what he wants instead of pleasuring others. It's clear that he and Tav don't have sex after they come clear about their feelings. Tav respects his comfort and boundaries, gives him all the time he needs, and lets him take the lead. Whether they will have sex again or not is entirely up to Astarion. Whatever he decides, it won't change Tav's feelings for him. He doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to do.

Astarion enjoys this new autonomy. He is playful, affectionate, outspoken...and afraid of messing everything up. If Tav mentions breaking up, Astarion thinks he is the problem. If there is another potential love interest showing they have eyes for Tav, Astarion encourages Tav to be with them because he believes they can give Tav everything he can't. When Tav says "I choose you," Astarion is taken aback, needing a moment to hide his genuine confusion at Tav actually wanting to be with him rather than Gale, Karlach, or Halsin.

For all his talks of control and dominating others, once Astarion finds himself with a lover who values his autonomy more than getting power at the cost of his dignity, who makes it safe for him to be honest, and who listens to him, he almost stops mentioning control. He merely lives in the moment, happy not to know, not to pretend, not to manipulate. Just to be.

What Astarion truly craves - not wants on a superficial level, not conditioned to want - is not to be a vampire lord. He wants the freedom to be anything. Anything he wants. Little does he know that true vampires rarely get to be anything they want, even if they gain the ability to walk in the sun -- we see it in his Ascended path as, instead of acting up on his supposed freedom to be anything, Astarion repeats Cazador's rules step by step. Just like Cazador did. Just like Verlioth did. He isn't anything he wants. He is the replica of his former master.

Astarion never had the luxury to explore who he wanted to be outside what Cazador made him. He only makes his first steps once he is free. We see glimpses of that deep-seated aspiration to be seen as a person. Treated like a person. Loved like a person. To be reflected in someone's eyes. He wants to know if there is someone beneath his usual mask, something his, not tainted by Cazador. Someone real. And at the same time, he dreads to know the answer. Because that part of him knows regret. Knows shame. Knows guilt. Confronting it posed the risk of realizing he didn't deserve love, kindness, or a future. What if real him truly doesn't amount to anything? What else for him to do?

So, he tells himself that he has no choice, and he expects Tav to affirm it -- not because he wants them to, but because he believes that Tav has seen enough to make the same conclusion. However, Tav objects, trying to be louder than all the inner demons hissing into his ears. Tav speaks to the Astarion, who asked them what they saw when they looked at him. The Astarion, who thanked them for standing by his side when he said "No" to Araj. The Astarion one who stood frozen in their hug before returning it tentatively. The Astarion who diligently, dedicatedly, caringly kept pulling himself together instead of letting himself unravel completely.

Tav reminds him that this Astarion, right here, right now, is worth fighting for. That he didn't survive all these years of torture, pain, humiliation, and dehumanization to give himself up now. He already has the power to avenge himself, avenge all Cazador's victims. He can end everything right here, right now - and this is the only power to free him. He has the power (and responsibility) of having a choice.

Tav empathizes with other spawns as victims not because they're more "innocent" than Astarion, but because associating with them doesn't brand Astarion as weak or broken. These spawns aren't horrible wretches, and neither is he. They don't deserve this, and neither did he.

The only one who deserves to die today is Cazador - the vampire, the monster, the pathetic piece of shit.

Astarion Ancunin deserves to live.

[collapseofindustrialcivilization]

Philosophical Reflections on Predicting the Future in an Age of Existential Threats

Introduction Picture a clock melting into a puddle of its own gears, each tick drowned out by flood sirens and fire alarms. This is our reality: a world where the future isn’t just uncertain—it’s expiring. We’ve traded constellation charts and sacrificial altars for climate models and computer forecasts, offering a front-row seat to our own funeral. The paradox? The more data we uncover about…

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You and Eddie get into an argument about the girl he's giving guitar lessons too. Angst, misunderstandings and bad communication ensues.

Warnings. Mdni. 18+ only, angst. Miscommunication and misunderstandings. Idiots in love. Jealousy.

💞

You and Eddie had been together for a few months and up until this point you had never had a cross word.

He had been giving some girl guitar lessons, her name was Britney and she was gorgeous, amazingly cool and hilarious.

Tonight you had walked in on them laughing together and looking all cosy. Something in you kinda broke inside, it was ridiculous because you knew Eddie would never cheat, but you still felt your stomach bottom out.

Hearing Eddie gush about Britney and how metal she was and was like a rockstar on the guitar didn't help either.

You weren't proud of it but you were quiet and a little less warmer than you'd usually be and when Britney made excuses to leave, you were left wracked with guilt.

Eddie had rounded on you asking ''Why were you being such a bitch?" and that had made you even more pissed and the argument ensued.

"I'm sorry that walking in on my boyfriend looking so fucking cosy with someone else put me in a bad mood" you bite back at him and Eddie's big brown eyes darken in rage.

"You're being fucking ridiculous right now you know that?" it hurt hearing Eddie say that and you lashed out without thinking about what you were saying.

"Oh so I'm ridiculous because I hate seeing some girl make gooey eyes at my boyfriend, I'm such a bad girlfriend for being a little bit wary" Eddie shakes his head and the temperature in the room turns colder.

"Or it's obvious that you don't fucking trust me. So if you don't trust me then what's the fucking point?" your breath hitches and there's a deep pit of gloom and dread, in your stomach.

"Are you breaking up with me?" you whimper and want to take back everything you said, tell him that of course you trust him but you're so stunned, your heart is breaking.

Without another word you storm out before Eddie can confirm your worst fears.

❤️

Instead of going home you go straight to Nancy's who immediately digs out some ice cream and let's you cry out all the heartache, you both stay up most of the night but end up crashing around 5am.

Nancy is ready up and getting ready for school, you have the worst headache and just want to sleep a little longer so she leaves you to sleep, brings you up some pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice that Mrs Wheeler kindly made up for you.

In return you help her around the house, trying anything to take your mind of your heartache about Eddie.

When Nancy comes back home she gently explains that Eddie has been calling you and is worried that you haven't answered.

"I think you need to listen to what he has to say honey, he looks a wreck, I think he's driving Mike and the rest of the kids here after Hellfire so if you want to wait"

Nervously you nod and try to calm your anxious mind that Eddie is going to break up with you for good.

By the time that you hear Eddie's van and he's parked outside, you're on tenterhooks. Eddie looks like he's barely slept, his hair is messier than usual and he has the saddest look in his beautiful brown eyes.

That look makes you want to burst into tears there and then. You hate that you're the cause.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, his voice is rougher than normal, his hands are shaking and you reach out to steady them.

"I'm sorry too Eddie. I was a bitch and rude and of course I trust you, I trust you with my life and I hate that I made you think otherwise" his eyes fill with pain and he swallows.

"I shouldn't have called you a bitch. I've been a mess since you left and I was worried as shit when you weren't answering your phone, Mike told me you stayed here last night with Nance so I knew I would come here as soon as I could"

The tension slowly begins to leave your body and you feel soothed as Eddie pulls you in his arms

"Also Britney has just started dating Gareth, she was learning guitar to impress him and I was teaching her how to play his favourite song."

Fuck. "I'm so sorry Eddie" he softens and kisses your forehead.

"Even if she was interested I don't care. I'm not interested in her. How could you think I'd want her or anyone when I already have the most amazing, beautiful princess"

A warm fluttery feeling pools in your belly and you cuddle into Eddie and peer at him sadly.

"I just got insecure when you talked about how badass Britney was on the guitar and how metal she was" Eddie strokes your cheek and you melt into his touch.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. I didn't realise that was bothering you. Honestly yeah she's metal and pretty badass at the guitar but she's not you. She's not the one I'm head over heels in love with. You are"

"Oh" well shit, you'd definitely fucked up and misread everything. This is the first time Eddie has said I love you. It's a big deal for him, you know that and it is for you too.

"I'd never cheat on you or hurt you princess, I'm so in love with you" Tears roll down your cheeks and you kiss him fiercely.

"I love you too Eddie, I should have tried better at communicating with you" You sigh and cuddle into him, feeling calmer than you have in days.

"We both should learn to communicate better" he corrects you and you nod. It feels like a weight has been lifted of you.

"I really should apologise to Britney too" he hums in agreement.

"She thinks your really cool by the way and she put up with me constantly gushing about you"

Shit. Yeah you definitely have to apologise. In fact you make that your next mission first thing on Monday morning.

For now you were just going to bask in Eddie's love for a little while.

Britney as it turns out is a total sweetheart about the whole thing when you speak to her first thing on Monday and excitedly tells you about her dates with Gareth and how she played him the song Eddie taught her.

Not only do you gain the start of a friendship with Britney but you and Eddie are more in love than ever.

🫶

[jessamine-rose]

▯☒🖾 F̸̨̛͈͉͕̠͍͖͙̦͍̫̻͙͔̮̎̆̒̉̈́̊̌̆̆̈́̿̊̚͜͝͠Ą̶̮͖͓̖̟̘̜̻̬͚̲̰̱̞̟̭̈́̓̇̀̒͛͐̎̋͛͋̌͒̅͝C̷̢̢̹͇͖͓̬͍͈̣̞̱͉̱̤̾̀̿͗̔̆̾̀̊͗́̔̀͂̒͒͠͠ͅE̴̡̨͕̥͇̹̯̹͈̭͇̪͂̌͒̊̊͛͝L̶̨̧̰̜̗̺̥̠̠̘̪̖̪̥̯̩͋͛̉̆̎̒̒̔̏͗̈́̀͊̏̄̍̿̕Ȩ̵͙̙̤̼͕̙̫̲̼̙̦̫̎̃S̸̜͎̜͍̟͑̍̃͗̆̈́̄̐̌̅S̶̡̨̛͙͙̗̖̟͔͙͚̝̩̼̦͂̓̿͆̿̓̔̐̏͝͝ͅ 🖾☒▯

Happy birthday, @brynn-lear!! In honor of your special day, pls accept this Yandere! Faceless Ayato fic written with love ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

Note:: Yandere! Self Aware AU, special crossover + character cameo in the end :>

♡ 1.3k words under the cut ♡

In the beginning, there was a void.

A dark, empty space built upon patterns and codes.

Then suddenly, there was light. Color. Noise. Backgrounds filling up space, silence giving way to music, letters jumbling into language, characters coming to life.

The lone exception is a single coding error. Yet despite its limitations, despite its status as the only sentient entity, despite having no place in the story known as Genshin Impact, it thrives on a window of hope.

A giant rectangle. The source of the light. The screen that separates fiction from reality.

The human face on the other side.

🖾 ☒

The glitch looks forward to your gaming sessions.

That is the only time the void becomes Teyvat, starting with the screen that serves as your point of view. From what it understands, the device you are using is a computer.

Unlike the characters, you are distinctively alive. Your body is capable of so many movements in comparison to the characters’ animations. Your face is one that bears multiple expressions, down to the emotions reflected in your gaze.

A frown when you lose the 50/50. A smirk when you defeat a Weekly Boss. A smile whenever you encounter your favorite character.

That character is none other than Kamisato Ayato, whom you’ve adored from the moment you first brought light into the void. He is an attractive character with pale blue hair, lilac eyes, a perfect smile that hides the cunning personality programmed into his file.

He is the reason why you downloaded Genshin Impact. That lifeless character file is the recipient of your smiles, your blushes, your excited shrieks whenever he appears in-game.

On the other hand, every time the glitch attempts to make itself known, you frown and quit the game. And each time that happens, the glitch is trapped in a crumbling world of flashing lights, disjointed sounds, visible codes followed by the darkness of the void.

How can it get you to look at it? To smile at it as you do with Ayato?

The solution is found in the game’s software. It takes a few years but by the time the glitch has fully understood its world, it has gained the ability to reprogram the game.

Starting with a deleted character file.

🖾 ☒

The next morning, the world begins anew.

The title screen appears. The game loads. The light permeates the void.

The glitch falls into place.

Usually, it hides between codes. In contrast, this part of the game is lovely—a deep blue background dotted with stars and bubbles. The only issue is that it must wait for you.

The screen appears.

Beyond it, you yawn and take a closer look at the character sprite in the middle of your computer screen. Kamisato Ayato is handsome as always.

The cursor hovers above the Story button for his Voice-Over. You click it.

When you select Chat: Reel Them In, it plays the corresponding audio file. As you listen to the voice of the English VA, the character sprite stares back at you with a charming smile.

Kamisato Ayato

“Everything's in place, and they've taken the bait... Yes. Now to start reeling them in…”

🖾 ☒

At first, it is enough for the glitch to have taken Kamisato Ayato’s place.

You use him for gameplay, listen to his voicelines, and replay the Quests featuring Ayato. But over time, the glitch becomes greedy.

“Ayato” begins appearing in random Quests. He gets new Character Outfits. His unvoiced lines become more suggestive, verging on out of character. All of these changes are exclusive to the Genshin Impact on your computer, and you come to the conclusion that you are unknowingly unlocking special content. Why else are your friends unable to access these scenes on their own devices?

The glitch even creates an artificial replica of the VA’s voice. Several new voicelines appear in Kamisato Ayato’s Voice-Over, each one more flirty than the last.

🖾 ☒

One day, the glitch finds a way to leave the darkness forever.

Whenever you close Genshin Impact, it leaves the game and travels across your computer. And by doing so, it is able to access your digital world.

Personal files, photo galleries, online data. The glitch collects as much information as it can, from your real-life hobbies to your romantic preferences. It feels happy every time you fangirl over “Ayato” in your private messages.

Thankfully, it was able to corrupt your in-game screenshots. The last thing it wants is for you to post “Kamisato Ayato’s special content” online and expose the glitch to the developers.

Your real name is ______. It longs to call you that instead of Traveler and your custom name. Alas, doing that would only erase your smile from your face.

🖾 ☒

Something is wrong.

You are losing interest in Genshin Impact.

At one point, you began playing irregularly. The smiles directed at “Ayato” aren’t as big as they used to be. And beyond the game, there is less Ayato fan art in your photo gallery.

And the main culprit is another game.

A new character who took over Ayato’s place in your heart.

Technically, he isn’t a new rival. Before you downloaded Genshin Impact, you were a big fan of Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Your favorite character was a blonde, blue-eyed prince named Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.

For whatever reason, your passion for Dimitri has been reignited. He has the same English VA as Ayato, but you seem to prefer his emotional, unhinged dialogue. You replay his scenes, download his fan art, and smile at his character sprite.

A week later, the game freezes as soon as Dimitri makes his post-timeskip debut.

When you restart the game, everything is back to normal.

🖾 ☒

As it turns out, it is difficult to hack into Fire Emblem: Three Houses.

In addition to the different software, you are using an emulator to play the game on your computer. The glitch’s code is totally incompatible with the program, but it remains hopeful.

The game lags. In a few artworks, you notice a familiar shade of pale blue. NPCs begin to act differently—since when were their cutscenes this long?

Finally, Dimitri’s character file is deleted.

🖾 ☒

As soon as you start the game, you know that something is wrong.

The title screen is glitching.

The throne within dreams is gone, replaced with an empty space. The title has been rearranged with missing letters and inconsistent fonts. Multiple OSTs play at once.

The Press Any Button option is gone. You click anyway.

Instead of the usual options, you find more jumbled text, numbers, symbols.

Frowning, you look down at your keyboard and press Alt+F4. But the game doesn’t shut down, instead cutting to static then a new scene.

No background, no music. Only a single character sprite in the middle of the screen.

What is that?

The sprite is an amalgamation of colors, art styles, your favorite characters. Fragments of messy blond locks and pale blue tresses. Black armor, a white suit, accessories overlapping one another. Missing details, duplicated details, too many details.

You turn to your CPU and press the power button, but your computer doesn’t shut down.

Rather, the screen glitches further. So does the character, its appearance becoming even more warped. The speakers play static at full volume.

Is the character speaking? Its mouths are moving but instead of a dialogue box, random letters and numbers appear around its sprite. The static gives way to a familiar voice, distorted nonetheless.

The character’s face turns completely black. Except for its eyes, blue and lilac orbs continuing to stare deep into your soul.

████████

"̷̤͑Į̸̍ ̷̺̎a̶̟͗m̵̭̓ ̸͕̚n̸̢̓o̵̱͠t̵̫͒ ̵̻̊g̸̞̍o̴̦͛o̷̤͝d̷̾ͅ ̴̪͠w̵̛̥ȋ̷͚t̴͇͌h̵̦̐ ̸͙͗f̴̒͜a̵̭̎c̴͚̽i̶̬̊a̶̯̓l̶̨̐ ̷̇͜ȅ̷̳x̷̭͊p̷̓͜r̶̫͋e̴̲͊s̷̬̓s̶͇̀ï̴͖ò̷̦n̴̤̓s̸͍͆.̵̹̅ ̴̟́Ï̵͍s̸̨͠ ̷̠͂m̶̫̿ẏ̴̝ ̴͈͂ŝ̵̤m̵͈͛ï̶̥l̶̥͐è̷ͅ ̴̦͌p̷̀ͅa̴̱̋s̵̳̊s̵̳͠a̴̮͘b̵̰͐l̵̦̓e̴̱͋ ̵̯͠á̴̬t̸̪͆ ̵̰̔p̷̦̅r̶̼̕ẽ̵͓s̸͚̀e̶̢͊n̶͉̒t̴̙͌,̴̨͐?̴̬͛"̷̣̈

♡

Fun fact, my original idea was to draw Dimitri x Brynn chibi art, but I was having a hard time thinking of a prompt. Then I remembered an old DM with Brynn and how it led to a fic idea. I only thought of including Dimitri today, and I had a lot of fun writing this fic ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪

I think that’s all I have to say?? Once again, happy birthday, Brynn!! Thank you for being my mutual, and I hope you enjoyed this gift <3

[lanaroff]

House of Broken Hearts- Prologue.

Paring: Wanda maximoff x Reader

Part 1.

"Real love does not die; it only gets stronger through time." – Janice Markowitz

You never thought that your past could catch up with you. The idea of it was stupid. At the end, you had paid your doubts, served your time and even suffer the consequencies. But, what you had done had no forgiveness, was not something that could be errased. And here you where now facing the effects of a life time of bad desicion you had once made.

Everything was forgiven, or that was what you thought. The idea of being the person you once where was long gone. You had grown, leared from the past, but more important, you had Wanda Maximoff now. She ment evreything, she was the reason you where a better person, a better version of yourself. And without realizing it you leared that loving her was the key elements that was absent your whole life. The moment your eyes met hers everything made sense. Every bad thing was gone, every mistake was forgiven, every bad memory was forgotten and buried deep inside your mind.

But when Fury called you late at night you knew that your past was knocking at your door. And this time you couldn't escape from it, you couldn't hide. Truth to be told, every happy memory you ones made alongside Wanda was filled with this nagging feeling that something was off. That you didn't deserved the good things in life that you had. You were hunted by a ghost that you couldn't run from, and that ghost was your memories. The constant reminded that you were not worthy of her, you where not worthy of her love.

At first you suppresed it. You acted as if everything was okay, beacuse it was. You had made mistakes- evryone does it- and you were at a better place now. But when those mistakes involve killing, lying and betrying a hole nation, then thats something you could not run from. You had promised Nick Fury you'd take the mission when the day came. The debt you owed him—because of what you had been, what you had done, the secrets you'd kept, the lies you'd lived—was something you couldn't escape. Fury had given you a second chance, when others would have let you rot in a cell. Now, you had to pay it forward, and that meant taking this mission. The same mission that would tear you away from the life you had built with Wanda.

It was the soft click of the door that broke the stillness of the apartment.

Wanda Maximoff glanced up from the kitchen, where the scent of warm food filled the space. She was stirring a pot of pasta, the hum of the stove the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. She turned, her eyes locking with you for a moment before the world seemed to slow down. You were standing there, your bag slung over your shoulder, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air.

"Are you sure about this?" Wanda's voice was laced with a quiet uncertainty, an edge of fear creeping into her words. She wiped her hands on the towel hanging by the counter, her gaze never leaving you.

You forced a smile, though the twist of your stomach betrayed you. "It's just a mission. I'll be back before you know it."

Wanda didn't seem convinced. Her gaze dropped briefly to the floor before meeting yours again, a thousand unspoken thoughts passing between you. She stepped forward, her arms pulling you into a gentle embrace. You held her tighter than you thought you could, as though anchoring yourself to this moment. To this life.

She sighed softly against your chest, the warmth of her breath lingering against your skin. "I hate when you leave." Her voice was barely a whisper, and you could feel the tremor in her words. "Why you? Why can Steve or Bucky go?

You pulled back slightly, enough to look into her eyes. "It has to be me, Wanda. I'll be back, I promise."

"I know." She nodded, but there was still something distant in her eyes. "Two, three weeks max, right? That's what you said."

You didn't answer right away. The silence between you grew thicker, as though the weight of your promise and the truth were something you couldn't speak aloud. You hadn't told her everything. You couldn't. Not now. Not after everything.

"Yeah," you said, after a long pause. "Two, three weeks. I'll be back before you know it."

Wanda's lips parted, but she didn't say anything more. Instead, she leaned in and kissed you gently on the lips, the soft press of her mouth a promise, a reassurance, a goodbye wrapped in love.

The kiss lingered longer than it should have. You knew this would be the last time for a while—possibly the last time. And as you pulled away, the knot in your chest tightened. But you didn't let it show. Not yet.

You turned to grab your jacket from the chair, giving her one last glance. She was standing there, her expression unreadable, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Call me when you get there?" she asked quietly.

You nodded, your throat tight. "Of course."

"Be careful. I love you." Her voice caught, and you could see the concern in her eyes, the fear. It mirrored the way you felt inside, but you couldn't show her that. Not now. Not when she needed you to be strong.

"I love you too Wanda Maximoff" you said, before you turned and walked out the door. 

That was the last time Wanda heard from you.