#ya’ll made this a difficult choice

[mistresslrigtar]

Happy Sunday everyone!

First of all, thank you from the bottom of my heart to my four very talented friends who took the time to create something beautiful for me. I am so touched by all of these entries. You each brought your own unique and varied take to the prompts and it was really difficult to choose a favorite. You all did not make it easy! So much so, I almost brought in third party to make the decision for me. 😅

However, one reminded me the first time I read it and again today of an aria I had the pleasure to perform, Ain’t it a pretty night… from Susannah, an American opera by Carlisle Floyd. As a southern girl, opera, and song in particular, spoke volumes to me. At that time in my life, I couldn’t wait to leave my backwater hometown and broaden my horizons! Maybe it will speak to you, as well.

@mailrebel thank you for painting a gorgeous picture of a sunset from the Sky Islands, and reminding us that we are but specks in a vast and wondrous universe.

(Send me a dm if you want a one-shot with the pairing, scenario, trope, whatever suits your fancy (I’ll even write angst for you, if I must 😉)

Below are all the entries, which I highly recommend! They are all really talented writers and artists, so be sure to visit their blogs, read their stories on AO3, and give them love with follows, comments and kudos, if you haven’t already!

Skies of Pink by @mailrebel

Sleepless Nights and Twilight Mornings by @pelicanpig

Waking Up Next to You by @abbyzwrites

And gorgeous art by my sweet friend, @bahbahhh

[jedischooldropout]

Disney is Ignoring Disabled Folks

Hi ya’ll,

I’m a big Disney fan, especially when it comes to the parks. I’m also disabled—autistic, OCD, social anxiety—so going on vacations can be overwhelming and cause meltdowns.

So, as you can assume, I have very strong opinions about the situation with Disney’s DAS Pass. In case you haven’t heard the news:

The Disability Access Service (DAS) is one of Disney’s very few accommodations it provides for disabled folks who struggle to wait in a traditional queue. The pass originally was FREE alongside the FREE Fastpass service which was available to all park goers. The way the DAS Pass worked is you would approach a cast member in town hall and claim you had a disability that required the pass and it would be given, no questions asked. You could then use the pass much like a Fastpass, but it allowed you to wait outside of a line for the same amount of time other folks had to wait in the regular queue. So, if Splash Mountain was listed as a 1 hour wait, you would have a cast member at the ride sign your return time on your pass and you would have to return an hour later. This gave disabled folks ample time to tend to their physical, mental, and emotional needs outside of the noisy, hot, cramped confines of a queue.

Disney Parks updated their DAS after introducing Lightning Lane (PAID shorter queue service),stating they made the updates because there was a steep increase of people using the DAS pass and lying about being disabled to get the pass. I did find news stories of people being caught abusing the service, but it was a small number of people.

Disney instituted rules where disabled guests would have to apply for the DAS (still a FREE service). Disabled guests would have to purchase their park tickets ahead of time and then apply for the DAS Pass. They had a choice of either applying online ahead of their vacation and talk with a cast member on video chat about why they needed the pass or talking to a cast member at the park. You could not provide any medical documentation as proof because Disney claimed it was against medical record laws for them ask for that. Even if you offered the documentation freely, they would still refuse to look at it. At the end of the video chat, the cast member would either offer you DAS or deny it.

Seems convenient, right? I thought so, until many disabled folks and their families started sharing their experiences with this process. Many folks had to wait for hours on hold during the video chat because of the huge volume of applicants and if they didn’t stay by their computer and stay active on the chat, it would kick them out within SECONDS and they would have to start over and wait hours again.

And that’s not even the worst of it. Those few who would get a video chat had to answer invasive questions. After going through this difficult process, most were denied their pass saying they weren’t “disabled enough,” and if waiting in line was such a hardship, they should either spend hundreds on a Lightning Lane pass or just not come to the parks at all. Here’s some of the denials I have seen:

A terminal cancer patient was denied.

A parent with PTSD was told to not come to the parks if they struggle with crowds.

An autistic child was denied and ended up having a meltdown two hours into his vacation, forcing his family to leave.

A person who uses a colostomy bag was told to “just hold it.” Until they could get out of line.

A person in a wheelchair was told to “practice waiting in line” before their trip.

Disabled folks are obviously furious. Disney tried to fix the issues by stating the DAS pass is only for people with “developmental disabilities, like autism.” This has made the situation worse, because it now openly excludes millions of people without that specific disability. There is no accommodation for those folks in the parks. And don’t think it’s easier for autistic folks to get the pass either—many people with developmental disabilities are claiming online they were denied because they didn’t look disabled enough.

Many people, me included, believe Disney changed the DAS pass system because they wanted to make more money. If there are more disabled folks going to Disney and using DAS that’s less people buying Lightning Lane because the DAS covers you and 3 family members (used to be 6 members, but they changed that too).

This is a huge blow to the disability community because this was one of the few (free) accommodations available at the parks. Here is what their website offers:

Parking—as long as you have a placard (paid)

Resort Transportation—only some buses have wheelchair access—(resort guests only)

DAS Pass (free)

Wheelchair and ECV rentals (paid, obviously)

Sign Language interpreters—for select shows on select days of the week (free)

Guide map (free)

List of sensory information (free)

Accessibility Planning Guide (free)

Sure, this sounds helpful. But only the DAS pass helps us disabled folk avoid the crowded, hot attraction queues.

One of the recommendations that Disney has told denied guests to do if they can’t wait in a line is to do Attraction Queue Re-Entry. Essentially, you abandon the disabled guest to wait outside the line while the rest of the party gets in the standby queue and goes through the line. When they near the boarding for the attraction, the disabled person can then cut people in the standby queue and reunite with their party. 🤦‍♀️

This is a safety issue on so many levels. Not only is Disney encouraging families to abandon their disabled family member, but they’re forcing the disabled guest to then actively cut people in line! I have seen how people react to line cutters at the park and people can get violent. Disney claims that the cast members at the attraction should be made aware and can help the disabled guest to navigate the queue. However, shift changes can cause issues and the new cast member might not know the disable person is using this accommodation.

Disabled folks have been protesting Disney’s treatment of the disability community, but the company isn’t listening. I don’t blame the cast members who are working for very little money and no training on how to support disabled guests.

It breaks my heart this is happening. Some people wonder why I like going to Disneyland when the crowds, noise, and changes in routine can overwhelm me. I have been going since I was 4 years old and it does overwhelm me. I remember having an autistic meltdown during every trip, even in my 30s. But I keep going because it’s a special interest and the motion of the rides can be soothing for me. I never used the DAS pass because I didn’t know it existed because I didn’t know I was disabled. When I finally got my diagnosis and started accommodating myself, I discovered DAS and was so hopeful I could get the pass and finally experience a Disney trip without a meltdown.

After learning about others’ experiences with DAS, I realized I would most likely be denied. I couldn’t afford Lightning Lane as an alternative either. So, until Disney fixes their DAS and educates themselves on how completely inaccessible their parks are, I probably won’t go again. I don’t want to spend almost $4,000 on a vacation where I spend it having a meltdown in a teacup.

GIF by disneylandgif.tumblr.com

[ashilrak]

girl you’re WAY too nice.People are talking about you and @mrthology like you’re the worst people they’ve ever encountered, all cause your servers are gone. I can be mean, but some of them are fully delusional and cruel, and those mods support it and join it just ignore it. The two faced shit is baaadddddd cause I’ve seen a lot of them in both of your comments too, now they’re acting like you two bullied them personally for writing haunt me then and getting rid of already dying servers. They’re posting rules to not send anons and shit, but being nasty ass bitches to ya’ll is more than acceptable.

Deleting was the best thing you ever did I swear to fucking god

My supply of kindness dealing with this whole situation is close to dwindling, I won't lie, and the voice in my head sounds a lot like Kendrick Lamar.

I understand people being upset by deleting the servers a whole lot more than I understand people being upset by our fic tbh. Not every story needs a happy ending, it was appropriately tagged, no one forced anyone to read it, etc. etc. If someone proceeded to read a fic knowing they wouldn't like it and end up not liking it, that's not the author's fault. If you're someone who wants a happy ending, don't read a fic tagged tragedy. If you decided to take a chance on it despite it not being your usual thing, there was always a risk of not enjoying it. I choose to not read or stop reading fics and books constantly. I've always been very clear with my stance of 'don't like; don't read', 'your mileage may vary', and so on. I've never expected everyone to love every fic I write and I've never written anything with the intent to harm.

@mrthology and I knew that HAUNT ME, THEN— would be a difficult fic, both for us to write and for its reception given a lot of the choices we made. We had a story we wanted to tell, and we told it. We took inspiration from myths, plays, songs, literature, and more. We were playing with themes of tragedy, inevitability, and fate; there was never going to be a happy ending because that's not the point. We both stand by it. It's about cycles and 'the love was there. It didn't change anything, but the love was there.' Some stories are about breaking cycles, this one wasn't. We never expected everyone to like the fic. We knew several people would HATE it. We wrote, and posted it, anyway.

I'm happy to not be modding anymore, and I don't appreciate the two-faceness or cruelty that is lingering. I no longer talk to these people nor post in the fandom. I haven't posted a fic at all since July. I've never had an agenda against anyone; I was transparent with the agenda I did have and that was to increase the amount of Perpollo content, and I wanted to do that by being nice to people and creating a community. Was I always perfect at that? No. But that was my goal. I can't stop people from interpreting my words and actions as something else. I will probably never mod a server again.

We always said that people were free to create their own servers/group chats/communities/events/whatever if they didn't enjoy our approach. If their approach is one that does encourage negativity, painting others in a false light, and being downright cruel, I'm happy it's something they didn't feel like they could do in a space I modded.

Did I absolutely adore everyone in the server? No. Did I live for every idea in the ideas chat? No. But I never expected anyone to adore me and live for every idea or fic I had either. Yes I was disappointed when people didn't, but I think that's just being human.

Deleting the servers felt like removing a very large load from my shoulders and I don't regret it.

[blouisparadise]

Today’s rec list consists of bottom Louis fics that take place in the country, the Midwest, or any rural area. We hope you enjoy. If you do, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Save A Horse | Explicit | 2400 words

Louis goes to a rodeo with Liam, and gets a lot more than he bargained for. Featuring bull rider Harry, obnoxious t-shirts, and one hell of a night.

“Come on Jackson ain’t you been practicin? It ain’t fun for me if I always beat you,” the boy drawls out, voice slow and thick like molasses. “You comin out tonight?” he asks, nudging him with his elbow.

“Not tonight H, me and Liam are going to grab something to eat,” Jackson replies, the blush returning to Liam’s cheeks.

“What about you, what’re your plans for the night darlin’?” Harry asks, crooking an eyebrow in Louis’s direction.

Louis, who is the epitome of outgoing and confident, is at a total loss for words. He starts to say something but freezes, Harry now raising his other eyebrow and smirking, awaiting Louis’s response. “I uh- I’ll probably just go home,” Louis manages to stammer out, and what the fuck? Who is this man and how has he turned Louis into an introvert in a matter of seconds?

2) Gunsmoke | Explicit | 6527 words

Harry 'Gunsmoke' Styles and his boys Liam, Zayn, and Niall are all traveling cowboys who come across a small town on their journey to nowhere. They hang out at a tavern where Harry meets Louis, a cute and fiery bartender, and they may or may not fall in love.

3) Hey I Heard You Were A Wild One (If I Took You Home It'd Be A Homerun) | Explicit | 12106 words

Harry came to the bar to forget. Louis gives him a night to remember.

4) This Land Is More Than Dreams | Explicit | 12878 words

Louis is a student taking a gap year, travelling through the States. His plans change when he meets a cute cowboy-wannabe in one of the towns.

5) Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy | Mature | 13356 words

Harry owns a farm and Louis rides horses (and pretty boys sometimes) for a living. Harry hurts himself by being clumsy before he gets to ride a horse with Louis.

6) Manifest Destiny | Explicit | 15210 words

Louis is a Pony Express rider and Harry runs a station along the trail.

7) Baby Blue | Explicit | 39439 words

Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head.

He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin.

“Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.”

8) I Ain’t Gonna Fence You In | Mature | 40645 words

Louis Tomlinson is a 18 year old city boy who is forced to spend his summer before his senior year at his aunts farm. There, he meets Harry, a 19 year old country boy his aunt hired to help around the farm.

Maybe the farm isn't the worst place to fall in love?

9) Boiling Blood Will Circulate | Explicit | 42420 words

The wait isn’t long before something starts rustling in the bushes. Harry takes aim, squeezes the trigger, body moving unconsciously. They’re motions he’s done a thousand times before, and his body knows how to do it without the input of his brain now. It’s what makes him such a good shot.

He misses. The shot misses.

Something howls in the woods, a pretty clear indication that Harry hit it, but there’s no telltale sounds of a big body dropping, no animal charging out at him to take him out before he can finish the job.

Something does turn and run, though. “Fuck,” Harry spits out, scrambling to his feet and slinging the rifle back over his shoulder, giving chase. He’s not going to lose this hunt.

The trail of blood goes on longer than Harry thought it would. He doesn’t know how long he runs for, but his muscles are burning, chest heaving with exertion, until the trail just - goes dead. No more blood, just like that.

“Fuck,” Harry says.

10) Your Touch Shouldn't Make Me Feel Like This | Explicit | 48883 words

Uni AU in which Alpha Harry has been in love with his omega friend for the longest time and one motorbike trip to the countryside with Louis made him realize that he could no longer hold back his feelings.

11) For the Sake of Propriety | Mature | 52360 words

Louis Tomlinson is the caretaker of an estate that is not truly his, and when his Uncle calls upon him to take it back, Louis knows he will soon be out on the streets with four overly zealous sisters to care for.  His only solution: wed the eldest two off and pray for the best.  When an even better solution unexpectedly presents itself in the form of the charming Mr. Styles, Louis is faced with a difficult choice.  But as with all things in the regency era, reputation very well may threaten to outweigh the fleeting matters of his heart.

12) Through The Wheatfields And The Coastlines | Explicit | 52855 words

“You’re not from around here, are ya?” Hot Cowboy asks, tracking his little lamb with his eyes. Louis frowns slightly, having thought he was doing pretty well at not sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s not like he’s not from around here — it’s not his first summer he’s spent at his grandparents'. But he supposes that the Manhattan city lifestyle that he’s used to is always going to shine through.

“I’m visiting family for the summer,” Louis explains, cheeks a little pink. “Trying to get some work done without distractions.”

13) The Bachelor | Explicit | 53953 words

The one where Harry dates six other guys and still falls in love with Louis Tomlinson.

14) Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You) | Mature | 54609 words | Sequel

Louis is staying at his Aunt's farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles.

Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry's friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn.

He also starts to fall in love with Harry.

Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

15) Such Good Luck | Explicit | 66025 words

An Edwardian AU where Harry is a young aristocratic lord and Louis is a working class dairy farmer. Secrets are a necessary part of their relationship, but Louis has one that could topple their whole world.

16) Given a Chance | Explicit | 173511 words

Five years after One Direction took their last tour, the last thing Louis Tomlinson ever expected to happen while on a tea run at the local Piggly Wiggly was to run into his ex-boyfriend and ex-bandmate Harry Styles.

The odds of them ever running into each other again had to be super slim, right?

Wrong.

What happens when you mix ex-boyfriends with a large serving of Small Town America? Will Louis and Harry be able to set aside their differences, or will Louis be able to stay breezy as fuck in the wake of Harry’s arrival?

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[lunatriense]

I’m sorry but Ozpin’s pressured her?

Need I remind you that Pyrrha literally jumped at the chance when Oz and co we’re done explaining??? Oz is the one who gives her that look when he heard those words come out of her mouth because those are the same words he said as Ozma to the God of Light and asks her to take time and think it through.

Yes it probably would have been better to talk to her about it more because she couldn't talk to her friends about it, but he literally stopped her from making an impulsive, ill-considered decision.

But if he really did pressure her then he wouldn’t have given her that look and told her to take some time. He would have just accepted it and placed her in the pod and have that be the end of it, but no he didn’t. Because he literally was trying not to pressure her because he’s been pressured throughout all these centuries. He told Pyrrha as much as he could trust her with and let her make the decision on her own.

I know ya’ll love Pyrrha and naturally so because she’s a wonderful character but she made that choice in her own. Yes that choice was hastened due to the attack on Beacon but she still also made that choice of her own volition, and she also made the choice to fight Cinder all on her own even though she knew she’d lose, she still had to try. She could have run away with Jaune but she didn’t.

Her death is the result of Cinder and of Pyrrha’s own choice. Oz didn’t pressure her into doing anything he let her chose because he knows that choices are important even if they aren’t always easy to make.

I’m sorry but Oz isn’t the bad guy or manipulator ya’ll think he is. He’s a liar, he’s made mistakes but all that lying and mistakes means that he’s human because at his core he’s still a good person.

As Oscar said “oz really wants to help” He still loves humanity and genuinely wants to save them.

Explaining? They never explained. He told a girl he knew had a hero/martyr complex that she could save the world but it might cost her her life, of course she was going to say yes. And as far as hastening the choice because of the Beacon attack, he demanded an answer by the end of the tournament before that! He only ever was going to give her a few days, during which she was already under enormous stress.

'He told her as much as he could trust her with' my ass; he told her a tiny bit and left out the most important part, about how all of this is futile. The same part he left out with Ironwood, Qrow, everyone — the part that would lead good people who are willing to dedicated their lives to protecting the world not to do what he says. I wonder why that might be? When you lie to people with a specific goal of getting them to do something you want that, if they knew the truth, they likely wouldn't do? Oh, right, that's manipulation.

Did Pyrrha make the choice to fight Cinder on her own? Yes, despite it being entirely out of character for her given the fact that she'd always sought backup for very difficult opponents before. MKEK wanted Jaune angst so they decided to fridge her and had her do something monumentally stupid. Did she know she would lose and still had to try? As of v6 retconning the whole thing I guess, which is an absolutely disgusting twisting of things.

Look, I get it, you like Ozpin. Fine, cool, enjoy him. You think he's a good guy. Great! I have friends who do too; if you follow the rwde crowd around here, you've probably seen quite a few of their takes on him in fact. I don't, and the way he's manipulated Pyrrha is only a small part of why. I have many, many reasons to hate the bastard.

[randomland69]

Yo so I made a sketch at school and decided to draw it on my iPad, but couldn’t figure out which one I liked more so just choose ya’ll’s fav 😀

I would of made it plain but decided ✨ ＢＵＴＴＥＲＦＬＩＥＳ ✨ can’t draw them though so decided to go to my background choices and have fun with those

He is so difficult to draw for some reason, and I haven’t even tried to draw everyone else yet and am to scared to, so yeah but here you go

[padfoot-and-prongsie]

Sneaking Around || Fred Weasley

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 4.3k

Requested: No, but feel free to send some in!

Summary: Your Slytherin friends would never approve of your boyfriend, but then again, who said they had to know?

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, Umbridge, Slytherins being bullies, sexual innuendos

Disclaimer: I did not make this gif, credit to the lovely person who did

A/N: School has certainly kept me busy, but this is finally up! This fic was written for @theweasleysredhair 9k writing contest with the trope “secretly dating” and the prompt “I could kiss you write now”. I hope ya’ll like it <3

PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS ARE JUST FINE :)

The throng of students going back to the school was filled with loud chatter over the results of the Quidditch match, but you weren’t joining in. No, instead you were frantically scanning the crowds the moment you stepped out of the locker room, hoping you could catch a glimpse of red hair.

Montague was beside you, a sickly grin on his face despite the loss. In his and Malfoy’s opinions, the match had been a success, as last they saw George Weasley and Harry Potter they had all but been dragged off the pitch by McGonagall.

“Try to aim a little better next time, L/N,” Montague said. “With Weasley defending the goal it shouldn’t be that difficult to score points.”

“Well tell Goyle to get a bit more accurate,” you snapped back. “I can’t do anything with fucking Spinnet on me the whole time.”

Though it hurt to spit that out, Montague didn’t notice. None of them ever did. You really would deserve an award for the incredible acting you had done over the past year.

Montague made a face. “There’s only so much I can do with that oaf. Just step it up, L/N.”

You mock saluted him as he walked away, before quickly restarting your search for the all to familiar Weasley.

But once more you were stopped short when Malfoy caught up to you on the grass path back to the school.

He was quietly humming Weasley is Our King under his breath, an action that made you desperately want to punch him in the face. He already had a wad of cotton shoved up his nose from the last person who did that, and you could see some light bruises beginning to form on his arms. If he was in pain, he didn’t show it, though you had a feeling he would have the act ready for dinner that night.

“I’m looking to add some new verses to the song, any ideas?” he asked, falling into step beside you.

You shrugged hoping your shoulders weren’t as tense as they felt. If he had asked you last year you would have had a long string of words to call the Weasley family, but now you could hardly bring yourself to even hum the tune.

“I don’t know,” you finally answered, hoping he would get off your back.

Draco didn’t take the hint. “I need some rhymes for ugly and loser,” he said, a sadistic smirk on his face as he brought up the words that had sent Potter and George over the edge.

“How about you’re a real loser so talking to you is quite a snoozer,” you muttered, “and I know you’re already to begin with quite ugly, but you need to upgrade your fangirls, they’re a little to fugly,” you finished, eyeing Parkinson a few yards away who was bouncing up and down on her toes as she waited for Draco.

“Fuck you,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “You're terrible help, you know that right?”

You ignored him, not even bothering to look back as he stepped off towards where Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle were waiting. Merlin you hated Draco Malfoy and tried to make that plenty obvious when he was around, but for some reason he kept coming back. At least you managed to take a few jabs at his ego. You were rather pleased with your little poem, if you did say so yourself.

You were all the way up to the castle when a small paper bird fluttered over to you, it’s delicate wings flapping wildly as it battled the wind. It landed gracefully on your palm, neatly unfolding itself to reveal the scrawled out message inside.

7th floor, back corridor, behind the tapestry of the One Eyed Witch

8 o'clock

It wasn’t signed but by now you were well familiar with the messy handwriting and a smile lit your face as you thought of the Weasley you had been looking for earlier. Glancing quickly over your shoulder to make sure Draco and his goons were far enough away, you hastily shoved the parchment in your pocket and continued on your way.

By now you were well used to the odd meeting choices, the cramped alcoves under the stairs and the dusty long forgotten classrooms. Yet as unpleasant as they could be sometimes, the exhilaration of sneaking around, the thrill of not getting caught, left your heart racing.

You could hardly focus during dinner that night, trying your best not to send too many glances over to the Gryffindor table. The red and gold were all in different stages of gloom, their eyes dull and smiles non-existent ever since they heard the recent news about the state of some of their best quidditch players. Potter, George, and Fred had both been banned for life on Umbridge’s orders, which had led to a buzz of glee around the Slytherin table as they gossiped excitedly over the news.

You did your best to sound just as thrilled, laughing over the Gryffindor’s bad fortune, pitying Malfoy when he dramatically limped over to the table, and snickering with the rest of them as Pansy and Draco worked on more verses to their song. But anyone who looked close enough could see the white of your knuckles as you gripped your glass of pumpkin juice, they way you had to restrain yourself from crushing the glass as they laughed at the expense of the Weasley family.

By 8 o’clock you were so fed up with the Slytherins that you were more than happy to flee from the common room, pounding up the many flights of stairs to reach the seventh floor.

You followed the instructions you had been given, navigating your way through the halls until you found the large tapestry that had been mentioned.

You slowly pulled it aside and immediately got hit by the strong stench of dust and mold. But you didn’t care about the smell, for almost instantly a strong pair of arms were wrapped around you and let out a giggle as you were spun around, before pressing a kiss to Fred’s lips.

Fred Weasley was grinning back at you, the light in his eyes that had been lost at dinner back as he took in your smiling face.

He kissed you again hard, pouring all his frustration and stress that had built up in the last week into it as his mouth moved roughly against yours.

When you pulled back for air, you were finally able to take him in. His cheeks were flushed red, and his hair had already taken on a tousled appearance from your fingers running through it. Fred’s eyes were bright with happiness as he looked back at you, his lips quirked up in the Fred Weasley smile you loved so much. But as you glanced down, you could make out the subtle hue of bruises forming on his arms from where Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had been gripping on to him for dear life to prevent him from attacking Draco just hours earlier.

Fred followed your gaze. “I got banned you know,” he finally said, the sadness creeping back into his eyes.

“Yeah, I heard,” you replied downheartedly.

“I didn’t even do anything to that prat,” Fred continued. “If I knew that hag would ban me anyway I would have punched every inch of Malfoy’s fucking body.”

You could see the anger spike in his eyes and you quickly placed a hand on his chest.

“Calm down, Freddie,” you said softly, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal. “I should have made them stop,” you whispered, “all I did was sit there and watch, I feel horrible.”

“Don’t apologize love, there’s nothing you could have done without anyone getting suspicious.” Fred said, absently running his hand through your hair.

“Suspicious of us?” you laughed. “I think we do a rather good job if I do say so myself.”

Fred’s smile returned. “Yes we are pretty secretive,” his lips quirk into a smirk and he pressed his mouth against yours. “Abandoned classrooms, ducking into alcoves,” he whispered against your lips. “There’s something sexy-” at that word his hands slipped lower, giving your bottom a squeeze “- about sneaking around.”

“Are you groping my ass?” you asked, humor dancing in your eyes.

Fred’s smirk widened and he placed another kiss on your lips. “What would you do if I was?”

“I’d tell you to stop wasting your time talking when you could have me up against that wall,” you whispered, biting your lip.

Fred’s eyes darkened in lust. “You really are little Slytherin, so coy at getting what you want.”

You smirked. “What can I say? That Sorting Hat picked right.”

“It sure did,” Fred agreed huskily, walking you back towards the wall.

As your body pressed against the stone you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and dragging his mouth down to meet yours.

Needless to say, you and Fred snuck out forty five minutes later, well passed curfew and both looking rather disheveled.

“Don’t get caught going back,” Fred whispered, glancing both ways down the hall.

“I won’t,” you assured him. “Besides, if I do Umbridge will probably get me out of it, she seems to have taken a liking in me.” 

You gave him a pointed look. “It’s you I’m worried about, one bad step and she’ll expel you.”

Fred shrugged. “I’ve stopped worrying about that ever since she came to town.”

You sighed. “Just don’t do anything stupid yet, okay?”

“Okay okay,” Fred agreed grinning. “Just for you I won't.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. “I’ll see you later.”

Fred pulled you in to kiss you once more, then let you go, being sure you were well down the corridor before he himself snuck off in the other direction.

You managed to make it back to the Slytherin common room undetected, only running into Mrs. Norris, who you stunned, then slipped by before she came to. The Slytherin common room was still bright with life at 9 oclock on a Saturday night, but no one questioned you when you walked in. Most students had snuck out past curfew their fare share of times, so they wrote you off as being no different then themselves

Doing your best to hide the grin on your face that usually came after being with Fred, you slipped upstairs to the girl’s dorms. Only one of your roommates was there, sorting through her trunk, but after exchanging pleasantries she left to go downstairs.

Falling onto your bed, you let out a sigh, the smile finally getting to appear on your face. Merlin this boy was going to be the death of you.

You had met Fred at the beginning last year after you both landed yourselves a week's worth of detention with McGonagall. At the time you had thought the redhead was the biggest prick you knew, and in turn, he saw you as a stuck up brat. Somehow though, amidst trophy cleaning, quiz grading, and classroom organizing, you had taken a liking to him. There was something about that easy smile and stupid sense of humor that got to you, and in turn, your quick wit and dry sarcasm had left him smitten.

It had been over a week after your time together in detention when you had seen Fred again, this time when he had come up behind you during passing time and, with a firm grip on your wrist, proceeded to pull you behind a statue in one of the more quiet corridors of Hogwarts.

“What the hell are you doing Weasley!” you had hissed, frantically looking around to make sure no one was near.

Instead of answering, Fred had gently placed his hands on either side of your face, fixing you with an intense gaze that left your heart racing.

“What are you doing?” you had whispered again softly, unconsciously stepping closer to him.

“For some idiotic reason, I can’t stop thinking about you,” Fred had said.

“Really?” you’d breathed, your heart starting to pound more fiercely.

“And for some even more idiotic reason,” Fred had continued. “I really want to know what it’s like to kiss you.”

The speed of your racing heart increased and you unconsciously found yourself glancing at his lips

Fred noticed, a smirk spreading across his mouth. In one flourish of motion you were pressed against his chest with his lips only inches from yours.

“But our houses,” you had whispered, looking up at his dark eyes.

A smirk had slowly spread across Fred’s face. “Who says anyone has to know?”

And then he had kissed you, hard, and from that moment forward you had completely and utterly fallen for Fred Weasley.

~

“Professor Umbridge wants to see you in her office,” a voice behind you said, causing you to jump violently, dropping the book you had been reading.

Turning in annoyance, you glared at Draco, who was behind you snickering.

“Prick,” you muttered under your breath, reaching down to pick up your book with the intention of continuing it.

“She really does want to see you,” Draco said.

Instantly you froze, your mind drifting to Fred.

“Why?” you managed to squeak out.

Draco gave you a suspicious look. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “She wanted me to round up a good lot of us. Your name was on the list.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay then,” you said, getting up from the couch, your demeanor returning to normal again. “Her office?”

Draco nodded. “I have to go tell Zabini and Montague, but I’ll meet you up there.”

“Sounds good,” you responded, stepping past him to leave the common room.

When you reached the office of Professor Umbridge, you were rather surprised to find its door ajar. Tentatively pushing it open, you were greeted by an extremely pink room and at least fifteen other Slytherins looking just as confused as you were.

“Ahh, Ms. L/N, thank you for coming,” said a high pitched voice that made your blood boil.

“Of course Professor. Thank you for inviting me,” you replied, a fake smile on your face.

She let out a little giggle. “Oh do I have a treat for you.”

She quickly ushered you over to stand with the rest of the group, then, once Draco showed up with the rest of the recruits, quickly clapped her hands for attention.

“I have received some shocking news,” she started, a grave look on her face. “It seems Harry Potter has formed a club. A club which wasn’t approved by me, and a club to teach others illegal and dangerous magic.” She paused dramatically.

For effect, you raised your eyebrows in surprise, though inside you were suddenly filled with a deep sense of dread. Anything Potter was involved with had a high chance Fred would be there too.

“Now, from a source we have learned where these meetings are being held, and it turns out there is one tonight. You all have been chosen by me to come stop this atrocity and give proper punishment to those involved.” Professor Umbridge's sickly smile widened. “Your services will be greatly rewarded by the minister himself.”

Around you, you could feel the Slytherins buzz in excitement, their smiles widening at a chance to get the Gryffindor's into trouble. Your smile was equally wide, but inside your nerves were piling up.

“They’re on the seventh floor, in the left corridor, across the painting of Barnabas the Barmy,” she said, jumping up and down on her stubby legs, a look of glee in her eyes. “Go catch them.”

There was a flourish of movement as everyone made for the door, pushing up the stairs and trying to be the first to catch the wrongdoers. You too were pushing to the front, but not because you wanted recognition from the ministry, but because you desperately wanted to be the one to catch Fred in hopes that you could find a way to get him out unscathed.

As you reached the seventh floor, it seemed the Gryffindors had been given a heads up, as swarms of people were running out of a doorway you had never seen before. Upon closer observation, you realized that there were far more than a few Gryffindors, as Umbridge had suggested, but in fact there were more than fifty people from a wide range of houses sprinting down the hall.

“Get them!” Umbridge shrieked from behind you, and you instantly took off, shoving your way through the chaos.

Fred and George ran from the Room of Requirement, for once not joking about their predicament. Behind them, Harry was quickly running around, trying to usher everyone out as a mob of Slytherins filled the corridor.

Together with George, Fred ducked down one of the side corridors, hoping he could make it to the boys bathroom that was only another turn away.

But before he knew it, his legs locked together and he tumbled to the floor, quickly shouting at George to run as he tried to squirm away from his captor.

Fred felt a hand grip tightly to his shoulder, pulling him up from the floor as another jinx whizzed by him towards his brother. George managed to duck it, but from behind Fred, Montague came running by, his wand in hand as he chased the other redheaded twin.

Fred reached for his wand to hex the Slytherin, but someone behind him got to it first, shooting a jinx that caused Montague to stiffen up, before falling face first on the floor.

The grip on Fred tightened, and he felt the spell on his legs release as he was suddenly able to walk as his captor pulled him down the other hallway.

Fred, sensing an opportunity, kicked his left leg back, trying to throw the Slytherin off balance, but they easily dodged it, dancing out of the way of his weak attempt at escaping.

“Merlin Freddie, that’s the thanks I get?” they asked, and Fred quickly turned in surprise to see you looking at him in amusement, a smirk playing at your lips.

“Love?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to save your arse,” you replied, a slight grin on your face.

Fred looked at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. “Damn that was so hot,” he breathed, “I could kiss you right now.”

Your heart gave a little flutter, but you tried to keep your expression neutral. “Let’s put a pause on that for right now,” you said, as Ernie McMillan ran by with Theodore Nott hot on his heels.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Fred grinned.

You rolled your eyes, then glanced around the hallway, but amidst all the chaos you hoped nobody had noticed your quick exchange.

“Just do me a favor and look pissed off and try to put up a bit of a fight,” you instructed. “I know a place where we can hide.”

Fred didn’t respond, instead quickly reverting his expression to one of anger as he pretended to pull away from your hold, though making sure he didn’t do so hard enough that you couldn’t drag him down the corridor.

Once you were out of sight of the madness of the main hall, you pulled Fred in after you into one of the secret passageways he had shown you last year. It was cramped and not well lit, but the tunnel was suited well enough for the two of you to stay in until the corridors cleared.

“Were you the one who hexed me back there?” Fred asked the instant the passage was sealed.

You shrugged. “I had to make it look convincing.”

“But why? Couldn’t you have just let us run off?” Fred pressed.

“Crabbe and Goyle had circled around to block that end, I couldn’t risk you going that way,” you replied.

“George went that way though,” Fred said, his eyes filled with concern for his brother.

You sighed. “There wasn’t much I could do in the moment,” you admitted, “I was more focused on you. I did jinx Montague for him, so hopefully that gave him enough of a head start,” you added with a laugh.

Fred grinned. “That was a rather good one.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” you said, amusement dancing in your eyes. “It’s probably the highlight of my year.”

Fred put on a face of mock hurt. “You mean I’m not the highlight of your year?” he asked dramatically.

You rolled your eyes. “You make a close second,” you teased.

A smirk creeped across Fred’s face and he suddenly pulled you up against his chest, his lips brushing against yours. 

“Let’s see if I can get myself into first,” he said cockily.

~

It wasn’t until after the Easter holidays when you saw Fred again, and this time, due to a new Educational Degree (number twenty nine if you were being exact) you had a silver I hooked to your robes and about the same amount of power as the teachers.

“How’s that Inquisitorial Squad going for you?” Fred asked, the moment you stepped into your latest meeting space.

“It’s so stupid,” you complained rolling your eyes. “It just inflates Malfoy’s head more than it already is and gives Slytherins a chance to pick on everyone.”

Fred wore an amused smile on his face. “It seems you’re taking advantage of this new found power too,” he commented lazily.

“Zacharias Smith is a twat and everyone knows it, so I don’t particularly care how many points I dock him,” you stated bluntly.

Fred snorted at your response. “Bloody hell I love that about you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Love what?”

Fred laughed, pulling you towards him so he could kiss you once on the lips.

“How when somebody pisses you off you are so determined about getting back at them,” he finally said.

“Most people say it’s one of my worst traits,” you managed to get out as Fred’s lips began attacking your neck.

“It’s actually rather adorable,” Fred hummed against your skin.

“Fred?” you asked quietly, a thought suddenly popping into your head.

“Yes love?”

“Was there something you needed to talk to me about?”

Fred detached himself from your neck to properly look at you.

“It’s just that you said you wanted to see me and we only just got back two hours ago,” you stuttered quickly, suddenly feeling you had gotten the wrong idea. “Not that of course this isn’t a good reason,” you motioned between the two of you.

A slight smile spread across Fred’s lips. “Your two observant for your own good,” he said jokingly.

“What is it then, what’s wrong?” you asked, every possible reason filling your mind.

“Nothings wrong,” Fred quickly reassured you. “But you told be not to do anything stupid yet at the beginning of the year,” he paused, “that ‘yet’ has finally come.”

Your eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

“Harry needs some help, so George and I offered ours, though I doubt we’ll get through this without being expelled,” he said, pausing to gage your reaction.

Your eyebrows had shot up and your jaw dropped. “What?! Why would you do that?”

“Because love, George and I don’t see the need to continue our education-”

“But what about-” you tried to interrupt.

Fred held up his index finger. “Just give me a minute to explain.”

“Okay,” you agreed, though your face still held a look of concern.

“We bought a shop,” Fred continued, “Harry gave us his Triwizard winnings so we bought one in Diagon Alley. You’re the first person that knows, and well, we were going to wait until after this school year but now with Dumbledore gone and that hag taking over the school, you’re the only reason left for me to stay.”

Fred looked you in the eyes. “That’s why I had to ask, can I do one last stupid thing? I am so in love with you Y/N, and you know that and if you want me to stay I will, and I promise nothing will change. I’ll be happy either way because I have you. I just knew I could never leave you here without first asking if you would be okay.”

A swell of love for the boy sitting across from you filled your chest and the concern had left your face. In its place, a single tear rolled down your cheek as you looked at the boy who had just told you he would leave all his dreams behind for you.

“Of course you can go Fred, I could never hold you back from that,” you said, letting him pull you against his chest. “But what about-” you looked up at him “-what about us?”

Fred grinned, kissing you once on the lips. “We’ll get to finally be together,” he answered softly. “There’s a flat above the shop, George has his space, we’ll have ours.”

“But George doesn’t know about us,” you protested. “What if he doesn’t-”

Fred cut you off by placing another kiss on your mouth. “If I have to marry you with only the two of us and the official at the service, then that would be enough. I don’t care about what he thinks about you and me.”

“Marrying me?” you whispered.

Fred interlaced his hand with yours. “The moment you graduate if you want love. Then we’ll never have to be apart for more than a second.”

You looped your arms around his neck, kissing him hard. “I love you so much Fred Weasley,” you whispered against his lips.

“And I love you a thousand times more,” he replied, his mouth barely leaving yours.

Fred tugged your thighs and you jumped up, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist.

“Now,” Fred said, and you could feel his smirk against your lips. “Why don’t we make this a night to remember.”

~

Taglist: Ask to be added! @missmulti @girl-next-door-writes @28cnn @thedarlinghufflepuff @rocket-svt

[highpriestessofjogan]

Every once in a while I’m not in the mood to write fiction...

Sometimes I like to do literary analysis for funsies, or, surprisingly enough thanks to the content of this post, music analysis as well.

When I first watched Guardian, there was one song that stood out to me more than most of the others from the OST.  It was always used in the scenes with more emotional weight, and was so haunting that it lingered in my mind long after the scene had passed.  Once I was able to hunt the soundtrack down on Amazon (a feat that was much more difficult than it should have been imho) I came to learn that this song was actually Shen Wei’s theme.  Shen Wei’s theme was in all of the emotionally hard hitting scenes and haunted me for long after the show had finished.

One day I was driving to work and I was just looping it over and over for my entire commute.  It’s an hour long commute ya’ll.  Just that song, over and over and over (and I’ve played it for several hours on a loop before and I have no doubt I will do it for many more times to come, this song is beautiful and haunting and I love it to death).  As I listened I started to make some realizations, and as those realizations came to light it left me even more heartbroken than originally.

The Shen Wei OST is a perfect character journey.  It tells his story in a way that words simply could not come close to.  I’ve tried to sum up my best analysis of this song and what it means, and I’m sure I don’t even come close to what Luo Kun intended when he composed the song, but I hope that he would at least agree I have parts of it right.

I’m going to put the actual analysis beneath a “Read More” so please, drop me a line if you like what you read or if you want to discuss it further.  I’d love to chat about this!  It’s broken up into five distinct movements that I think relate to different points in Shen Wei’s life, and I should mention that this is looking at the character purely from the perspective of the drama.  At some point I might go back and see if I can tie it into the novel at all, but that has not been taken into consideration here.

I’d like to state above the cut that my thanks go out to @elvencantation and @eirenical for looking over my initial drafts and giving me their opinions and helping with musical instrument identification.  I might come back and clean this up someday, but for right now, I wanted to get something out there for everyone to read.  I hope that you enjoy it.

Part I. Gege (0:00 - 0:35)

There is a very melancholy feel to the song, but it also has the quiet grace and strength that the audience can always associate with Shen Wei.  This is the beginning of his journey though.  This is a young boy caring for his brother.  A boy who tries to protect and is cast aside, thrown down to the dirt, and returns too late to save the one remaining person still precious to him.  The beginning of this song paints the picture of a solitary figure against the horizon, short in stature from age and inexperience, a blade much too big gripped in too small a hand.  The piano solo here emphasizes his lone search for his brother and hoping against all hopes that he might one day find him and the two of them could be reunited. 

Part II. Xiao Wei (0:36 - 1:08)

At 37 seconds in the strings make their entrance.  I like to think it was a deliberate choice to have Zhao Yunlan pick up the violin during the Tan Xiao and Zheng Yi case, because I firmly believe the strings in this soundtrack are supposed to represent Zhao Yunlan just as the piano represents Shen Wei.  These 32 seconds represent the Shen Wei that we see during episodes 34 and 35 in Ye Olde Haixing Era.  A bright eyed energetic young warrior who cares about his men despite his position.  He hides his fear behind a mask, under a hood, and does what he can to help in the war.  But here is also when Kunlun arrives.  A famous general who miraculously takes an interest in HIM.  And what has he done to warrant such attention? The kindness that he is shown here helps to shape him, mold him into a stronger warrior, a stronger person, but it will be millennia before he will learn why Kunlun saw him for the person he was rather than the blade and power he wielded.

The strings here do not try to overwhelm the piano here, even though they easily could.  Instead they seem to try to entwine with the notes from the piano and guide them.  It’s a graceful dance between the two that represents the close partnership that Shen Wei and Kunlun shared during the war.

Part III. The Black Cloak Envoy (1:09 - 1:39)

This part of the song is particularly interesting to me.  The piano is still present, but the tune has changed, the same for the strings, but now the sounds of a woodwind have joined the other two.  It’s at this point Shen Wei has woken up after 10,000 years.  He’s thrust into a new world that he must learn, and a Dixing that is far worse off than he ever imagined it would be.  He is a legend, but he does not try to take power.  His duty is still his to fulfill, but he does not seek to take power aside from that.  This is the new life that he forges for himself, from who he was as a boy, to who Kunlun helped him become, but this is something he creates to survive in a world that is unfamiliar to him.  

Now he is not needed as just a blade, although he will be that when it is necessary.  Now he can pursue his love and inherent gift for learning.  This is the man who emerges from the ground and takes up bioengineering as a field of study.  This is the person who befriends Cheng Xinyan and probably has more than one or two study sessions with her.  This is the college student that I’m sure was dragged to at least one karaoke night to blow off some steam, and may have discovered his aversion to alcohol that same night.  This is someone who lived.

Part IV. Professor Shen (1:40 - 2:11)

The woodwind fades out and we are left with the string and the piano once more.  The string though is more like the tide, pushing and pulling against the piano, but that is very fitting for the section of the song, and Shen Wei’s life, that Zhao Yunlan is introduced into.  The strings surge forth and ease back, pushing Shen Wei for answers, but also easing back when he seems ready to break.  The piano has returned to its tune from the first two movements, and it’s probably due to the uncertainty that Zhao Yunlan has brought into his life.  Why has Kunlun suddenly reappeared and why is he acting like he doesn’t know who Shen Wei is?  Why does Da Qing not remember him?  In the face of these questions he retreats to who he was before, until he can determine what the best course of action to take is.  If Kunlun is testing him or doesn’t remember too he doesn’t want to risk the chance that the man will not recognize him.  This could be why we see the fond smiles and confused blinks, aspects that are so inherent to his character.

Part V. Shen Wei (2:12 - End)

I’m not going to lie, it was coming up with this part that really broke my heart.  The strings remain, but fade to the background and are only faintly known.  The piano has returned, and is at the forefront once more with no question as to who the lead is.  Through all the changes in his life, he has come to realize who he truly is.  He is a brother who is afraid he has failed his twin.  A warrior and leader afraid he has failed his people.  A man afraid that he will lose everything, but willing to make that sacrifice to save his friends and family, to keep the man he loves safe.  He is no longer just a blade to be used.  He has a purpose, one that has not been forced on him but that he has chosen for himself.  

This is the Shen Wei who decides to use the light energy from Zhao Yunlan to make himself a living bomb.  The man who decides that if his brother cannot be made to stand down then he will force him to.  This is the man who looks into the eyes of his lover as he lays bloodied and broken on the ground, who sees all that they could have had in their lives, and silently begs forgiveness even as he makes the ultimate sacrifice.  

And then the song fades out with the slowing piano notes, just as Shen Wei’s life ends with the slowed beating of his heart...

[mymoonagedaydream]

Home (Part 1)

Summary: Two years ago, you’d left behind your hometown and the love of your life to pursue your dream career, but returning for Christmas really made you start to second-guess that decision.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: A Christmassy one for ya’ll! This story is inspired by the requests above from @shawnie--jo, thank you for those and for the inspo! I couldn’t fit everything into a oneshot, so this may end up being three or four parts.

---

You stuffed your bag into the overhead locker and collapsed into your seat, completely exhausted.

Some chaos was to be expected when travelling so close to Christmas, but still, you really could've done without the three hour check-in queues and the chorus of screaming babies.

Leaning back in your chair and pulling on your headphones, you squeezed your eyes shut and just tried to think about all the things that would make this journey worth it, all the things you’d missed about Christmas with your parents.

The excitement on their faces as they greet you at the airport, your mother’s incredible home-cooking, your father’s insistence on playing charades three or more times a day. It was your first time visiting home since moving away two years ago, and you wanted the whole cosy, corny nine yards.

There was just one teensy little caveat to your relaxing family holiday- two years away from home meant two years since you'd seen Bucky.

You were childhood sweethearts, head over heels in love with each other for as long as you could remember and best friends for even longer. When you were offered a job across the country, you wanted so much for him to move with you, but he’d already promised his father that he’d take over the family car-repair business. 

It was the most difficult decision of your life, but eventually the two of you agreed there was no choice but to separate. 

Being away from him tore you apart for the first few months, but now you'd finally gotten back on your feet, and you were ready to come face to face with your past again.

Or so you thought.

---

Your parents pulled you into a tight bear-hug as soon as you walked through arrivals, taking your bags, talking your ear off and quickly ushering you to the car.

Amongst all the excited babbling, you just about managed to discern that they’d planned a welcome home party for you that night with half the neighbourhood, an announcement which triggered a mix of dread and excitement to begin churning in your stomach.

You were looking forward to seeing your oldest friend again, you just hoped to god that things wouldn’t be weird or awkward between the two of you.

After a short drive, the car pulled up outside your childhood home. Just seeing it from the outside made you feel all warm and cosy but, as soon as you glanced through the door, those feelings were amplified off the charts. 

The place looked incredible. Your mother had obviously put so much effort into making it look cosy and festive, you even felt yourself tearing up a little when you stepped inside. It was so elaborate, you had half a mind to interrogate her about a possible Christmas with the Kranks scenario going down prior to your arrival, but you decided it was probably best to just keep your mouth shut.

After you’d looked around properly and unpacked, it was only a matter of hours before the first guests started arriving.

You downed two beers to loosen yourself up a little. Each time the bell went, your eyes snapped towards the door, the sound making your heart leap out of your chest. It felt like you were waiting to find out whether that hard mass in the bottom of your stocking was a big-ass diamond or a lump of coal. 

When Bucky finally appeared in the doorway, your jaw almost hit the shag carpet. The last two years had been unreasonably good to him, he looked like James Dean but somehow even more buff. 

The boy you'd left behind had become a man in your absence and sweet Jesus it was really making you feel some kind of way. 

His eyes were frantically scanning the room but he hadn't spotted you yet, so you took the opportunity to sneak up behind him and tap him on the shoulder.

‘Hey, stranger.’

He swivelled round, his eyes lighting up when they met yours. Before he said a word, you were pulled into a tight hug, audibly gasping when you were lifted clean off the ground.

‘Where the hell you been, Lilypad?’

You burst out laughing, remembering falling into a pond on your seventh birthday and him never, ever letting you live down. A wave of happy memories flooded your mind, making you smile widely as he set you down.

‘Still the same old Yucky.’

‘Hey, we agreed you wouldn't call me that anymore.’

‘I'll stop calling you Yucky when you stop calling me Lilypad.’

The corners of his mouth curled into a mischievous smirk. ‘Never.’

And just like that, it felt as though you'd never left.

You were excited to be with your old friend again, you were happy that there seemed to be no awkwardness between the two of you, and you were really doing your very best to suppress all the other intense feelings that had surfaced as soon as he’d walked through the door.

‘Come on, I'll get you a drink.’ You grabbed his arm and dragged him through to the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge while he leant against the counter next to you. ‘Are you still working for your dad?’

‘Yep. He's hoping to retire in the next few years, so I'll finally be taking over.’

‘That's so great, you're pretty much set for life with that place.’

He nodded faintly, burying his hands in his pockets and flicking his gaze down to the floor. ‘So how, uh- how long are you back for?’

‘I'm flying back early on the 31st.’

‘You’re not even staying for New Year?’ The hint of disappointment in his voice made you immediately stop what you were doing and look over to him, his face going a little red as he shifted around awkwardly. ‘Ah, I bet you got loads of invites to big, crazy city parties.’

‘If you call staring at a computer screen until 3am and slowly spiralling into madness a party.’

You passed him a beer, his eyes staying fixed on the bottle as he mumbled. ‘All the work will be worth it one day though, right?’

‘I hope so.’

Your eyes locked, a heavy silence falling between you. This was exactly the kind of uncomfortable atmosphere you were dreading.

Panicking a little, you vaguely gestured towards the living room. ‘I should probably, y’know, mingle.’

‘Sure. I'll find you later though Lilypad, we gotta catch up some more.’

You gave him a warm smile and nodded, turning away and disappearing into the crowd.

The next couple of hours seemed to blur together. You made meaningless small-talk with people you barely knew, all the time just thinking about Bucky, about how quickly things had gone from fun and light-hearted to incredibly tense.

You just hoped you could get things back on a good track before you had to leave, losing him completely was the very last thing you wanted.  

Shuffling into the kitchen to grab yourself another drink, you noticed him duck out the back door. He must've hit his socialisation limit. The two of you used to reach that point around the same time at parties, so you'd slink out together and share a cheap cigarette.

Abandoning your freshly opened beer on the counter, you followed him out, finding him tucked away around the side of the house.

‘Right on time.’

His head snapped towards you, the cigarette almost falling from his mouth as he shot you a wide smile. ‘Am I that predictable?’

‘I just know you too well.’

You leant against the wall next to him, hugging your arms tight as you felt yourself start to shiver, cause you were the kind of idiot that went outside in December wearing short-sleeves. Bucky noticed straight away, letting out a gruff chuckle as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and wrapped it round you.

‘That cushy city life has made you soft.’ He rubbed your arms a little, trying to warm you up, before eventually bringing his hands to rest on your shoulders and fixing his gaze to yours. ‘I'm really glad you're here, Lilypad. I've missed you.’

‘I've missed you too, Buck. I've missed a lot of things about this place.’

‘So why don’t you stay longer?’

‘Believe me, I was lucky to get this much time off.’

His eyes narrowed slightly, a concerned frown spreading over his face as he folded his arms across his chest. ‘Is everything alright? I haven't heard much about this job but so far it's pretty much been all negative.’

‘Oh, I do love it, honestly I-’

‘Why would you even try lying to me? You know I can always tell.’

You couldn’t help cracking a slight smile at his smug expression. He was right, the last time you’d managed to successfully lie to him was in first grade when you told him you didn’t know where his crayon sharpener had gone, knowing full well it was stashed in your pocket.

‘It's just a lot.’ You rubbed your forehead exasperatedly. ‘Apart from the few hours of sleep I get each night, I'm pretty much constantly working. You asked earlier if it was worth it and, to be honest, I really don’t know.’

He nodded faintly, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his foot, before opening his arms towards you.

‘C'mere.’

You didn't hesitate. Launching yourself towards him, you let him enclose you, squeezing your eyes shut and wrapping your arms around his neck.

‘You'll figure it out.’ He mumbled into your neck. ‘You always do.’

‘Thank you, Buck.’

After a minute or so, you both pulled away slightly, stopping when you came face to face. A lot of things about home had slipped your mind whilst you’d been away, but you’d never forgotten how gazing into Bucky’s piercing blue eyes made you feel. 

That feeling had never changed, and you were sure it never would.

You dropped your hands to rest on his shoulders, your eyebrows shooting up when you noticed how rock-hard they were. ‘Jesus, Buck. I’ve only been gone for two years, have you been at the gym that whole time?’

‘Nope, just been working hard at the garage.’ What absolute bullshit. ‘But feel free to keep the compliments coming.’

You smirked and feebly shoved him away, turning to head back inside but stopping suddenly before taking a step. ‘Oh, you better pick that cigarette butt up or my mom will go ape shit.’

‘Good call.’

You slipped through the back door, passing his jacket back when he followed you in. The two of you couldn’t have been out there for more than a few minutes, but it seemed as though the crowd inside had really started thinning out.

Bucky’s parents strolled over when they spotted him, informing him of their intent to leave pretty soon too, so he gave you a long hug goodbye and made you promise that you'd see each other again before the end of the holidays.

The two of you had parted on a good note, which was all you’d wanted going into the party, but now you found that you were pretty keen to squeeze as many more good notes out of these next few days as you could. 

It was probably best not to delve too deeply into the feelings behind that sentiment. So you didn’t. 

You helped your parents tidy up, your eyelids drooping as the exhaustion from a long day of travelling and socialising finally set in. Just as you were about to head upstairs, your mother piped up, using her expertly crafted trying to appear casual despite being really very invested in what I’m asking tone.

‘It must've been nice seeing Bucky again.’

‘Oh yeah, definitely.’

‘He must've changed quite a bit since you were here last.’

You chuckled to yourself. ‘Physically, yeah, but he's still the same goofy dumbass he's always been.’

‘It's always a treat when he pops round, he's such a nice boy.’ A suspicious eyebrow crept up your forehead. ‘And he's still single y'know, he hasn't-’

‘Alright. That's my cue to go to bed.’

Your dad strolled over and gave you a firm pat on the back. ‘Good idea, sweetheart. Get out while you still can.’

‘Thank you. It's nice having one sane parent.’

‘Although, I do have to say, he has been very good to us since-’

‘Dad!’ He raised his arms in surrender, using one hand to zip up his mouth. ‘Lord help me. Goodnight, crazies.’

You quickly escaped up the stairs. Stumbling into your room and pulling on your pyjamas, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in the pillows and letting out a long, exhausted sign.

As you drifted off to sleep, all the stress of the day melted away, leaving a single thought to echo around your mind.

You’d really overestimated how over Bucky you were.

---

Part 2

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[arigatouiris]

do you forgive me? // todoroki x reader

Author’s Note: A self-indulgent Todoroki domestic fluff fest, ya’ll. After season 4 of BnHA, I started to like the character growth Endevour was getting—and it gave me a LOT OF ideas. 

Once again, this is my opinion and my thoughts, so please understand that I don’t support abuse in any way, having been raised by abusive parents, I understand that we share a complicated relationship with them (especially if they see the wrong they’ve done). Forgiveness doesn’t come naturally, but it does help in letting go of baggage. Hope ya’ll like this fic!

Word count: 3605 words

Pairing: Domestic AU! Husband! Todoroki Shoto x Wife! Reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, domestic au, meta stuff i think

As a growing teenager, Todoroki Shoto was a tad bit indecisive. He’d struggle to figure out what he wanted to eat for lunch on most school days, and the worst part only came during the night—when there were far too many options for dinner. Shoto would often glance at what his friends were eating but usually, making a small decision such as this was difficult for him. 

Things changed however, when he bucked up and confessed to you on your second year of High School—just as the year was ending. You were the exact opposite on the level of decisiveness; you could make quick decisions on what you wanted to eat, but on bigger things such as your hero name or if you wanted to be a hero at all (despite being in the hero course), you’d falter and look at him with doe eyes for assistance. Basically, the two of you made a rather strong couple, sometimes clueless, sometimes bizarre, but mostly you two loved each other with a passion that could hinder anyone from thinking either of you was decisive at all to begin with.

As a husband and father, however, Shoto was different. Decision making became one of his strengths, especially when it concerned your children. When the doctor admitted that you were carrying twins, Shoto was slightly terrified; of course, anyone would be, with no prior experience in fathering anything at all in the past. 

You were his strength as he was yours, you helped each other along the way until your kids—Yue and Yuu—were born. 

Upon first glance, it was clear that your children were going to have their father’s quirks split into either of them. Yuu, the older twin brother, was going to have the fire quirk and Yue, the younger girl, was going to have the ice quirk. Their matching heads indicated that Todoroki’s genes were superior, not that you were complaining at all. 

Yuu resembled his father in personality. Quiet and mellow, he smiled at soft things when he found them amusing and wasn’t too much of a troublemaker. He believed himself to be a dragon though, much to your annoyance, because this left him leaving scorch marks on things that mustn’t have scorch marks at all. Apparently, Yuu was marking them as his own, a thing dragons must do.

This was alright, because a soft scolding from you and a sweet smile from his father left Yuu an apologizing mess, who refused to use his quirk for mild amusement ever again. However, the real trouble was your daughter—whose personality did not resemble either of yours; she was very much like Bakugou, which scared Shoto the most, wondering how in the world she grew so feisty while being a small 4-year old with a quirk that was supposed to leave her calm and collected. Yue would use her quirk to move around, throw tantrums when her father took her with him to grocery shopping, freezing her brother’s legs while he was asleep—Yue was uncontrollable. And Shoto was a terrible strict father because the moment his baby girl made your signature doe eyes at him, all was forgiven and it’s alright if Yuu’s legs were frozen, it’s like training to use his own fire quirk anyway.

However, it was in the middle of hero work when he got the call from his children’s play-school. Something terrible had occurred, and his first instinct was to call you. You were a hero too, but when you didn’t pick the call right away, he understood that you were in no position to do so. He could see you fighting a low-level villain on TV from the convenience store, which was near him, and he let out a sigh. 

He had to deal with his daughter’s disastrous tantrum on his own.

     “Hello, this is Shoto—”

     “Todoroki-san! Y-Your daughter needs your help—”

Shoto’s eyes widened, “What’s happened?”

When the pre-school teacher explained to him that Yue’s quirk had lost control, he couldn’t understand how bad it could be right away. Ice was far more easier to control when compared to fire, but that was not the point here at all. Apparently, Yue had frozen the entire classroom, along with herself inside it, and the pre-school teacher could only remove the other students in time. Now, the little girl was stuck inside, crying for her parents, alone.

Shoto got there as quickly as he possibly could, noticing the pre-school teacher stand outside the school, the students huddled all around her. He spotted Yuu’s red head, looking terrified at the blocks of ice coming out of the windows. Shoto froze when he saw how much ice there was—wondering how in the world a 4-year old could manifest so much from her quirk. 

Yuu noticed his father and ran to him, hugging his legs. Shoto placed a loving hand on his son’s head before ruffling his hair.

     “Are you alright?” 

Yuu merely nodded, “Yue’s scared... She... She wasn’t doing anything, I promise! She sneezed a lot and it... it became cold, all of a sudden and I—”

Shoto picked his son up and smiled at him, shaking his head. He knew his son wasn’t defending his sister, but merely describing what he had seen. Putting his son down, Shoto turned to the teacher before nodding once, heading to where his daughter currently was. Upon entering the classroom, he noticed how much of a mess the girl had made, his heart breaking at the sight of his baby girl, sitting at the corner, behind a desk, covering her face with her hands and crying her heart out. 

     “Yue,” Shoto said, as softly as he could, “Are you okay, princess?”

Yue’s eyes snapped to see her father’s loving gaze before crying harder at his arrival. Shoto used this chance to head over to her, placing himself next to her, behind the desk; Yue quickly hugged her father, but her feet were stuck to the ground because of the ice. Shoto used his left hand and melted away the ice that had kept her grounded, before pulling the girl to his lap and placing her there. He didn’t want to move until his child was calm, and he rubbed her back up and down to ensure it happened.

     “I’m a monster...” He heard her mutter and Shoto froze.

     “Who told you that?”

She shook her head, “I just am... I did this...” 

She was shaking and Shoto bit his lip at how unsure he was to approach a matter that was this sensitive. He thought of how you would handle this situation, your inherent softness would easily diffuse this situation without any effort. With no proper parenting of his own, Shoto was clueless. But on such occasions, he recalled what you’d tell him to do.

Just think of what you would want to be done to you, Shoto. 

     “Yue, sweetheart,” Shoto cooed, pushing her a bit so that he could see her face, “Do you want to know how I learned to control my quirk?”

Her eyes shone a bit, but he was certain that was mainly because of her tears. She nodded softly, looking all over her father’s face.

     “Up until a point, I couldn’t use my fire side. I was scared and thought it made a monster too,” Yue’s eyes widened at the choice of his words. “You know Deku?”

     “Pro-hero!” 

Shoto chuckled before booping Yue’s nose, “He spoke me into using my fire side. And...” He recalled a fond memory, his eyes growing soft, “...Mama helped more than anyone else.”

     “Is that how you fell in love with Mama?” 

Shoto hummed, “Not exactly. I think,” He was picking the best words, “I think it happened a little after that.”

It was not surprising when you came over and asked Shoto if he wanted to spar. You two occasionally sparred with one another, since he told you he wanted to improve his quirk use—especially the fire quirk. With your agility, he was certain that hurting you would be difficult, and he was confident only when he was around you.

One of the strangest things was how you made him feel like he could do literally anything and be okay with it—it was strange because Shoto wasn’t used to this unblemished confidence that radiated within him. 

     “Ready?” You asked, coming to your stance.

Shoto nodded before the two of you started off. You rushed toward him and jumped over him, your feet landing on either of his shoulders. Shoto instantly used his fire quirk to brush you off, but you were faster than he was and you landed behind him, shooting a kick to his back, sending him stumbling forward.

Clicking his tongue, Shoto tried something different. He blazed fire all over his arm and shoulder and slammed into you, causing your eyes to widen; if you had been even a second slower, you were sure you’d have been burned. But, this wasn’t something only you noticed. Shoto did too, and his eyes widened, his body froze, before backing away from you—hands shaking, body quivering. You knew instantly what his thought process was going to be like, but you desperately wanted to stop it. 

You rushed to him and grabbed his face, with him trying to shoot you away, but you stayed, your hands planted firmly on either of his cheeks. 

     “I almost hurt you—”

     “Shoto,” You forced him to look into your eyes, “You didn’t hurt me.”

Tears welled in his eyes, “I—I’m a monster, (y/n), I... I can’t—”

     “Shoto, you’re not a monster. You’re going to be one of the best heroes this world has ever seen. Stop selling yourself short for a slip I had during training. You did not hurt me, Shoto. You will never hurt me. Believe that, okay?”

He could not tell you how hard his heart was beating right then. Shoto smiled fondly at that memory, still feeling his heart race a bit at the sincerely lodged in your eyes right at that second. You really wanted him to believe that he wouldn’t hurt you, and you stayed on, making him believe, day in and day out. Your patience was astounding, and your resolve was the strongest he had ever seen in his life. It was safe to say that Shoto learned a lot from you. 

Turning to Yue’s mesmerised eyes, Shoto chuckled before booping her nose once more. The way she scrunched her face melted Shoto’s heart. He wondered if Yue was calm enough to leave, but he liked sitting there—the adversity and all—and speaking to his baby girl. Not that he never got the time to do this before, his kids were a package deal; this was perhaps the first time he was alone with just his daughter, and it made him feel warm inside.

     “How did you ask her to marry you?”

Shoto’s eyebrows raised. Yue was four years old and she was already thinking of marriage? He needed to speak to you about this, he wasn’t exactly sure if this was normal.

     “Did Mama look like a princess when you asked?”

Shoto hummed, “Mama always looks like a princess,” Yue giggled, “How I asked her...” He chuckled, confusing Yue more.

     “What?” She frowned.

     “I asked her when she was asleep,” Yue let out a ‘ehhh’ sound of disapproval. “She didn’t hear me, but in the morning she woke up and I was just... I couldn’t not ask her. Mama looks very pretty after she wakes up.”

Yue nodded, “She snores a bit though.”

Shoto chuckled, “It’s cute.”

Yue giggled at her father’s admiration for her mother’s cuteness. Of course, she knew her mother was cute. But, she wouldn’t admit it, but her father was far cuter.

     “Mama told us that when we were born, Jii-chan helped out a lot.”

Shoto knew of the incident Yue was talking about, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. Sure, Endevour was acting like a regular grandfather to his kids, which was rather odd—but, it wasn’t as if Enji didn’t know of his past mistakes. There were a lot of gaps that Enji was still contributing to fill, and there was still forgiveness to be earned. However, the effort that Todoroki Enji made as a grandfather to both Yue and Yuu was commendable. 

It had been six years since his mother decided to live with his father again. He couldn’t understand this decision, but she chose to forgive him while Shoto clearly hadn’t, and even if Enji told his son that it was alright that he was taking so long, Shoto wasn’t even sure if it was ever going to happen. 

Ever since his mother and father moved back in together, Enji’s efforts have been rather blatant and visible. After Shoto’s kids were born, his father was there for you, whenever Shoto wasn’t, Rei would help out as much as she could (she practically lived in the hospital with you), while Enji would be the one who would run to the store if at all you needed anything. The man had retired a few years ago, and that made it all the more easier for him to live a regular life, with no demands.

When your water broke, Shoto was in another city—returning home. He was with Yaoyarozu and Kaminari, who both had missions with him, which wasn’t common at all. Shoto didn’t want to go, but you weren’t due for another two weeks. So when he heard that your water broke, and he wasn’t there, Shoto’s calm exterior vanished.

And when he learned that Endevour was the one who took you to the hospital, and when he noticed Endevour in the waiting room, Shoto wanted to yell at his father. But, before he could do so—

     “Go inside, she needs you.”

Shoto’s eyes widened before rushing inside, grateful he hadn’t missed the birth of his children, confused that his father was outside waiting for him and helping him, heartbroken that he couldn’t feel a regular emotion of happiness at rejoicing.

     “Jii-chan isn’t so bad.” He heard Yue say a second later, bringing him out of his reverie.

Sure, jii-chan wasn’t so bad, but as a father, Endevour was a bane in Shoto’s existence. But, he would be blind if he didn’t see the effort Enji put in—and if his mother could forgive him, Shoto wondered what was actually going on. 

     “Yue, love,” Shoto picked up his girl before standing up, “We need to go home now. Mama will be worried.”

Yue looked at her father with a frightful expression, “Am I going to be in trouble?”

Shoto shook his head, “Only if you promise to let baa-san help you with your quirk.”

Yue puffed her cheeks, “Why can’t you help?”

     “Because I have hero work.”

     “Papa,” Yue tugged on her father’s sleeve, alerting his attention, “Do you forgive me?”

Shoto’s eyes widened at her words. 

      “Of course, sweetie.”

Yue smiled a second later, “Thank goodness!”

*

You were already at home when Shoto brought in both Yue and Yuu. Upon laying your eyes on your children, you rushed to them, ignoring your husband who stood there, blinking.

     “Are you okay? Yuu, you’re not hurt, are you? Yue, honey, is everything—”

     “Papa helped!” Yue said, gleefully, causing you to sigh in relief. 

You looked up at Shoto and shot him a smile, which he returned, before you took his arm and laid your head on his chest.

     “I was so worried when the teacher called me! She told me that you were already in there and when I couldn’t even do anything—”

     “Shh,” He placed a warm hand on the back of your shoulder, “You were fighting a villain, I saw.”

     “She’s our baby—”

     “And you’re a hero. It’s alright. She’s fine. I’ve already told my mother about this, she’s coming over today to help Yue out.”

You sighed with relief once more, feeling the burden leave your chest. Your kids ran off inside to their rooms, before you looked at Shoto with a questioning glance. He tilted his head before asking you what was wrong.

     “What’s on your mind?”

How did you know whenever he was plagued with something? It was almost creepy.

     “Yue... Yue seems to like her grandfather a lot.”

You hummed and nodded, “He does spoil her quite a bit. Both of them, actually.”

Shoto scoffed, “I don’t know if this is some sort of twisted repentance—”

     “Shoto,” You placed a calm hand on his cheek, “It is repentance,”

His eyes widened at your words.

     “He’s trying, Sho. He’s still very awkward with them at times, because he’s new to this too. I’m not saying he deserves your forgiveness, I’m saying, don’t hide away his attempts, okay? He knows what he’s done.”

Shoto nodded. He was aware. But, he still needed time and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would need.

     “Being a father is not easy,” Shoto froze at your words, “Especially if you’ve not been a good one.”

That evening, Rei and Enji arrived at their doorstep. Upon glancing at her granddaughter, Rei instantly rushed over to her, picking her up in her arms, making an airplane out of her.

     “Baa-san! I missed you!”

     “I missed you, my little butterfly! Your papa told me what happened, honey. Are you okay?”

     “Papa told me I had to learn from you now.” The girl said, bashfully.

     “Come on, sweetie. I’ll show you something really cool.” Rei shot Shoto a wink before taking her out to the courtyard. 

Shoto noticed Yuu plop on Enji’s lap and begin narrating something about being a dragon. Ah yes, Shoto recalled, Yuu thinks he’s a dragon. He noticed how Enji just sat awkwardly, a gentle hand supporting his grandson on his lap.

     “I’m a dragon, jii-chan!”

     “Ah, I see—”

     “Isn’t that great?!”

Enji gulped, “Y-Yes. That’s remarkable.”

Shoto wanted to laugh at how uncomfortable his father was, but what he didn’t notice were fresh tears in his eyes. He turned away before anyone could see, but you were a national level spy when it came to your husband and his spilling emotions, but you were going to let him be for now. You wondered if Enji could have been the father Shoto deserved, if only he wasn’t wallowed with his own insecurity back then.

But, all that you wonder would remain just that. All you needed to do now was appreciate and acknowledge the effort he put in, whether he’s received forgiveness or not.

When Yue returned with Rei, she didn’t hesitate before pouncing on Endevour’s other leg, forcing the larger man to swallow the shooting pain at how heavily the child landed on his leg. He turned to Yue’s sweet smile directed at him, and Enji just gulped.

     “Jii-chan! I missed you!”

Enji’s eyes softened at his granddaughter’s blatant display of affection, before placing a gentle hand on her head, ruffling her hair. Shoto felt your hand slip into his, a second later. He turned to you, but you were watching your daughter with her grandfather, with a soft smile.

     “Can you even imagine Enji-san like that with anyone except Yue?”

     “He wasn’t even like that with me—”

     “Sho,” you scolded him for the dark joke. “Don’t be mean.”

Shoto chuckled before tightening the grip on your hand. 

*

That night, Yue and Yuu forcefully lodged themselves between their parents, wanting to sleep there. Shoto didn’t mind one bit, but you pouted, wanting some alone time with your husband after a long day. 

     “Jii-chan was right,” Yue said, “You two are the best parents ever!” 

Shoto’s eyes widened, just as Yue hugged him, burying her tiny face in his neck. Yuu cuddled up to you, before falling flat asleep in just minutes. 

     “Shoto?” 

He was lost in thought, but you wanted to know one thing; you knew that reminded Shoto of this one memory would perhaps help in moving past the memories he had of his father. It wasn’t as if you wanted Shoto to forgive Endevour, but you knew that the longer Shoto went with hate in his heart, the harder it was going to be for him to fully accept him as a part of his family. 

And with a family of his own, you knew Shoto deserved the peace more than anything else.

     “Yes?”

His voice was a mere whisper. You smiled softly.

     “Do you remember what Enji-san said when you told him you were going to marry me?”

Shoto remembered all too well. The second that memory played in his head, Shoto shut his eyes, leaning back against the pillow—feeling his daughter fall asleep in his arms. He thanked you inside in his head, before taking a deep breath and letting go. He was letting go of a lot of things that night. And for that, he was grateful.

     “I’m going to marry (y/n).”

What he expected was Enji to ask him what your quirk was, or if he was making a mistake—he even expected Enji to tell him he had a bride in mind for him, an arranged marriage waiting for him without him having known. 

But what he got was a broken smile from a broken man and words that he wished he had heard long, long ago.

     “I’m so proud of you, Shoto.”

And he would never miss the words that he swore his father had in his head, words that still ring in Shoto’s mind.

Do you forgive me?

Shoto’s lip quivered that night as tears leaked out of his eyes.

Do you forgive me?

“I guess it’s about time.”

Shoto slept for 9 hours that night. The best 9 hours in his entire life. You noticed him sleeping in, and let him be. Your husband deserved the world, after all. A few more hours of sleep is absolutely fine.

[wornoutmouse]

Illumi x black Y/N

JUST OCCURRED TO ME I NEVER UPDATED MY ILLUMI STORY ON HERE?!??!

It was the next day when Illumi came home and all night you had to force yourself to ignore the phone calls that came throughout the night. "Y/N I brought you breakfast." you could vaguely hear the monotone voice through your sleepy state. Sitting up you wipe your eyes and look around the room before finally taking in the food in front of you. You blink slowly as you take in the large egg in front of you.

It was about 2 feet tall and larger than your own head with speckled spots all around it. "Illumi what the hell is this?" Illumi blinked at you, "A boiled egg, I heard it is popular among you people." he replies, taking out a spoon and whacking the top of the egg at light speed. All at once, the egg was made up of cracks before they all fell lightly around the egg itself.

"You people? What does that mean" you glared at him, arms folded. Illumi looked at you blankly before closing his eyes and standing up, "Isn't it obvious? Americans." You looked at him for a while, questioning the life choices that lead up to this moment. "Are you going to eat this with me?" you asked poking the large food product with a fork provided by Illumi's brother from your last meal. Illumi shook his head, "No I ate two weeks ago I'm quite full."

At this point, you didn't have any desire to question it as you pierced your egg with your fork eating it. You were surprised at the abundance of taste it held without having any noticeable sauce or seasoning on it. "This is amazing!" you said digging in the egg savoring every bite. Illumi took out a notepad and scribbled something down. "What's that?" you ask, eyes lighting up as you finally made it to the yolk. "Notes my mother gave to me in order to make you accept this family as your own. Step 1: Take them, easy enough. Step 2: a way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Illumi looked up to you with what you could only guess to be pride.

"Did you just call me a man?" you asked blandly suddenly wanting to throw something at the skinwalker. "As far as I can see, you carry no masculine features but even if you did, my family has ways of making it work." Illumi says gesturing at the pins adorning his green vest. You internally shiver at the sight of them as you think back to the night you two met. "Why wouldn't you answer my calls?" Illumi asks, black eyes peering down at you as if they could swallow you whole. "Why did you call me while you were inside someone. Aren't I supposed to be your wife?" you questioned sarcastically licking your lips and setting the plate to the side.

You had only finished about 1/8 of the egg but you felt as if your stomach would implode on itself. You jump as you see a pale hand planted on the bed next to you. You gaze up at Illumi as he looks down at you, seemingly to take in all your features. "Would you prefer I were inside you?" You squeal jumping up and out of the bed falling onto the floor. "Where did that come from!?" you yelled pointing an accusing finger at Illumi as he walked around the bed towards you.

"Although I would prefer our lovemaking to be only when conceiving a child, I do not mind indulging in your fantasies." He says sliding a nail down the middle of his vest opening it up to reveal a green shirt underneath. "You stay right there slender man! Touch me and it's on sight!" you say wielding your fork as if it were a weapon. "Onsight? But I can see you just fine, are you perhaps blind?" You look at him with distaste as you stand up lazily throwing the fork in his direction. “You’re so weird.”

Illumi looked like a kicked puppy, “I don’t know what was strange, you chose to insinuate that you were jealous of me giving physical pleasure to another woman.” There was a knock on the door and a tall man with a mustache walked in. “What is it Gotoh?” Illumi asks, facing the man. Gotoh takes in your disheveled appearance and Illumi’s rare lack of that ugly ass jacket and smirks. “Look OG I don't know what you're thinking but that ain’t it.” you say rolling your eyes before walking into a closet to see what you could possibly wear.

Illumi looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “What is an Oh Gii? Is it a term of endearment?” You look at Illumi for a while before giving him a thumbs-up, “Yeah totally.” Gotoh pushed his glasses up doing his best to contain his amusement. “Your mother and father request a meeting with you and your fiance.” Illumi nods and Gotoh takes his exit.

You pull out an outfit that looks similar to what Illumi was wearing but instead of green it was red. “That'll work.” you mutter flinching as you feel arms wrap around your waist and you feel Illumi rest his head on your shoulder. “I am quite fond of you Oh Gee.”

You have to close your eyes and take deep breaths in order to keep in the laughter threatening to exit your lips.

Much to Illumi’s outward displeasure yet obvious pleasure, you and him were wearing the same thing. Although his vest was tightly hugging your chest and the pants were getting ready to bust from your ass. You two walked down the corridor in silence as you took in the navy blue walls that adorned the hallways. “I mean, knowing what you people do I wasn't expecting to see any loving family photos but how do ya’ll not get depressed with all this nothingness.” Illumi gazes forward but pulls out a small parchment. “I prefer to carry family memories.”

Illumi holds out a small photo to you. You look at it and it appears to be a child Illumi with his father in the woods. Ordinarily, this would be a sweet and endearing photo if not for the fact that Illumi was covered in blood splatter. “This was my first kill.” You quickly handed back the photo and chuckled awkwardly. “How cute a child murderer.” Illumi nodded, “Grandma thought so too.”

You silently prayed that someone, anyone would come to get you from this nightmare.

Illumi opens the double doors and allows you to walk in first. The room was much more lively than the halls but still managed to not look out of place. The room was a deep orange with golds everywhere from the linen to very abstract paintings placed in gold frames.

Sitting on a large pillow was Illumi’s mother and if they had your way, your mother-in-law. Illumi’s father of course sat next to her, broad-chested and overall intimidating. “I bet his dick is small.” you mutter trying to ignore how fast Illumi turned his head to gaze at you.  “Illumi my son, come, come, sit!’ The woman cried, throwing her arms in the air in a welcoming manner. Illumi sat down.

You continued to stand because there was no obvious pillow for you to sit on. “Umm.” you scratched the back of your head before walking close to Illumi to sit. “No need for you to sit my dear, you will be leaving soon anyway.” you raised your eyebrow at that and couldn’t help but feel a chill go down your back. “W-What does that mean sir?” you ask. To your left, a small man in a lab coat walked from behind a door holding a clipboard. “We are ready sir.” he says not looking at you the entire time

“Y/N can you please go with him.” Illumi orders not even giving room for objection. You put your hand on your hip slapping away the hand the little man offered to you. “Like hell, I’m just going with Dr. Frankenstein over here without having any information!” Illumi sighed, having the audacity to look embarrassed. “You chose yourself a feisty one, my son.” Silva chuckled looking at you with a gleam in his eyes that made you thoroughly uncomfortable.”Illumi!” you warned, tapping your foot on the carpet. “More like obnoxious.” you could hear Kikyo mutter but you were too pressed with Illumi to care.

“It is understandable Illumi, I’m sure she would be more comfortable with her husband present during the examination.” You tapped your foot faster, getting anxious at the words 'examination.'

After a long pause, Illumi get’s up and follows you into the next room. This room was ordinarily dull. The floor was hardwood but the walls seemed to be adorned with expensive fabrics. “Miss if you will, can you roll up your shirt so I can draw blood.” You jerk your head at Illumi who simply looked blankly at you.

Seeing no other choice you roll up your sleeve but before the doctor could put the needle within you, you freaked out and stopped him before holding your hand out to Illumi. Illumi looked at your hand before recognition set in his eyes. He leaned forward and gave you a high-five. “My brother Killua taught me that.” You put a tight smile on your face before reaching over and grabbing the nearest object and throwing it at Illumi’s head satisfied as it hits him square in the jaw.

“No dumbass, hold my hand.” you responded. Illumi opened his mouth to say something but decided against it before taking your hand into his. Illumi’s hands were unsurprisingly cold considering how pale he was. The fingers were thin, long, and too delicate to belong to someone that takes lives for a living. You couldn’t quite help but laugh at how your skin tones concentrated so drastically, it was almost comical.

Before you knew it the blood work was done but you still didn’t let go of Illumi’s hand fearing what was to come next. “Please take off your clothes.” You Look at the doctor for a second before slowly sliding out of the chair and bolting for the door. Before you could make it you feel the neck of your vest being jerked back. “Don’t make this difficult please.” Illumi sighed.

“Hey you're not the one being asked to strip in a strange place.” Illumi shook his head, “Would you like it if I striped you instead of the doctor?” You smacked him on the back of his head, “No with your weird-ass!”

In the end, you kicked Illumi outside and found yourself propped up in a chair as the doctor took swabs in your cooter much to your discomfort. Illumi comes back in by the time you finally put your pants on and you follow him and the doctor back to the original room.

“How did it go doctor?” Silva asks and as you come closer you notice a large pillow sat out for you. “I’ll have you know my findings are quite peculiar. This woman seems to be a second nen ability within her but it’s dormant. This only happens with twins when one consumes the other.” You knew this fact, your momma always joked about how you were so hungry as a child that you ate your sister. “And what else.” Kikyo said, opening a hand fan impatient. “Is the girl barren and therefore of no use to us?!”

“Oh you won’t have to worry about Illumi’s ability to produce children, this woman is extremely fertile. In fact, I’m sure all it would take would be one time. There is also a high chance they could produce a white-haired offspring.” Your eyes widened, Kids? What the hell are they talking about, it’s been 3 days do you not get a got damn orientation? Silva held his chin in thought, “Though I do not doubt Killua’s loyalty, it’s always good to have a backup.”

You stood up and headed out the door as fast as you could, fists clenched. “Back up my ass, I ain’t having no brat with any of you people!” You walk down the hall, having no intention in mind highly doubting that you could make it to any exit without this damned family allowing you to. “Who the hell are you?” You hear a voice down the hall coming from a small boy with white hair. ‘This must be Killua.” You thought as you continued to walk past him, “A bad bitch who doesn't need no weird-ass fish-eyed man.”

Before you take another step, you hear a loud sound coming towards you, “Get out of the way!” Killua said, pushing you against the wall. There is a loud crack then footsteps, “Hello Killua.”  You heard Illumi’s monotone voice say as he comes to be in front of you. Reaching above your head, Illumi picks out one of his pins from the wall behind you. “The hell was that Illumi!’ both you and Killua yell out, pointing an accusatory finger at the man in question.

“I see you’ve met my bride.” Illumi continues ignoring the situation. “It was good to see you again, finally tired of your ‘friend’?” Killua scoffed, “No, I’m here because dad called me.” he shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets and walking away, “Hey!” you look up at Killua who had his hand raised in a wave, “Sorry for your loss.”

Illumi crowds you back into your shared room with more force than necessary. “Hey watch it!” you snap shaking your shoulder out of his grip. “You embarrassed me in front of my mother.” He replied blandly. You roll your eyes, “Well sorry for you pretty boy, but I have bigger fish to fry.” Illumi looked around the room slowly, “I swear to god if you say-” “What fish?” You groan plopping on the bed burying your face into the sheets.

In your own world, you ignore the feeling of the bed sink, but you do not ignore the crotched pressed into your ass. “What in the hell do you think your doing nigga?!’ you say not in the mood whatsoever. “What is a ni-” you swing your hand behind you and attempt to slap Illumi in the face only for him to grab it and press it into the sheets above you. You begin to feel uneasy, “What are you doing fish eyes!?” You attempt to lift your hips but he secured them with his own. “Considering the results, I say that now is a perfect time to start consummating.

[anon-e-miss]

Primus Help the Outcasts 6

It was difficult to believe. He was waiting for the rug to be ripped out from under his peds but he could not be frozen in place by fear. Even if this reprieve was only temporary, Prowl needed to seize it with both servos for his creations’ sakes and to take full advantage. He needed to get healthy and strong. Then he could better plan for the battles to come. Prowl did not want to believe anything could be worse than had already befallen them, but he did not dare chance fate by making such proclamations.

There was a chair ready for him at the table. Someone had arranged cushions on it so that it might be more comfortable for his doorwings. They had done the same for the two Smokescreen and Bluestreak occupied. As he had always instructed his creations to, Prowl washed up, and then took his seat. Just walking to the table had exhausted him. The crash had trained what fragile reserves he had been clinging on to and now they were gone. He felt weak as a cyber-kitten and considerably more helpless. Sprocket served him a navy blue cube of energon with flecks of minerals floating in it. Medgrade. Prowl felt anxious and frail and he did not know if he could even hope to eat, let alone keep it down but  Bluestreak went on in great detail how he and his friends had helped the Twins’ grand-genitor make everything from the dough to the sauce completely from scratch. He was so proud, of course Prowl had to eat a slice of chrome-alloy pie.

“What was that scandal wit yer origin ya mentioned?” Jazz asked.

“He assassinated Zeta Prime.”

“Woh. What now?” Punch gasped. His sparkmates froze. “Yer originator was Camshaft?”

“You know of my originator?” Prowl asked, surprised. He looked to Jazz, who seemed equally surprised.

“We worked in the same business,” Punch replied. “Sometimes for the same side. After it was done, he went silent. We figured the worst.”

“He escaped,” Prowl explained. “Off world, I believe. I was attending school in Simfur at the time. He sent me packages without any return address from time to time. I was questioned regarding the matter repeatedly when I was young. I found the last package on my desk at the precinct shortly before I went on leave to have Bluestreak.”

“It was a brave thing he did,” Sprocket said. “He knew his life would be over but no one else could get close.”

“My originator was angry he had played a part in the tyrant’s successes,” Prowl replied. He remembered how angry Camshaft had been when the Institute’s crimes had been revealed and then the news so perfectly and ruthlessly oppressed. “The assassination would have been restitution to him.”

“It’s a small world,” Punch said and he shook his helm. “He never hinted to havin’ a creation or a Conjunx. He didn’t let ya become a target. No choice for us. Our whole family was in the business, that was the lot. Jazz and Ric had to grow up quick.”

“I remember Camshaft,” Jazz said. “Sometimes I’d try to eavesdrop on ya’ll. He caught me ‘bout as often as ya. I loved it when ya let me in on what ya were plannin’. The last time he game round, ya spent joors in Geni’s workshop, ‘n I came snoopin’ round again. He caught me. Shook his helm ‘n said this one wasn’t for me.”

“We weren’t sure if it might come back on us,” Rumbler explained. “We were makin’ plans to disappear if it got warm, let alone hot. But no one ever sniffed at us. We never heard from ‘m again.”

“The authorities knew when he sent me parcels,” Prowl explained. “I imagined my progenitor or the school informed them. He was deeply angry by my originator’s actions. The scandal forced him to step down from the senate. He had me surveilled. He was certain my originator would come for. He may have tried. He likely wanted to. But I was too closely monitored.”

“Yer progenitor arranged yer bondin’ then,” Jazz guessed.

“He picked a mech like himself,” Prowl declared.

“That don’t sound like a compliment,” Jazz replied.

“It was not.”

“He was nasty,” Bluestreak declared. “He smacked me because I was talkin’.”

“Bitty Blue, that’s awful,” Rumbler hissed.

“It’s okay,” Bluestreak said. Prowl flicked his doorwings at the memory. Bluestreak smiled up at him. “O’gin punched him.”

“Ya got a tough, Ori,” Jazz declared. “Took after his ori, I think.”

“Thank you,” Prowl said, he found himself relaxing as he found himself around friends and not merely benefactors. “I like to think so.”

The revelation that his originator had been friends and colleagues of Jazz’s procreators made Prowl feel safer in depending on their aid. Camshaft had paid a very personal price for being the triggermech for the assassination plot. Prowl had paid one too. Though he had not lost his originator completely, somewhere out there he new Camshaft lived, Prowl had never seen him again. His creations had never met their grandoriginator, who would have spoiled them if he had been able. They had only known their grandprogenitor who had treated them with no more grace than he had his creation. The boarding school in Simfur had been Camshaft choice for Prowl as his duties had taken him further and further afield. The distance from Praxus had protected him from his progenitor’s scornful impatience.

“Smokey helped me set up yer hab,” Jazz revealed after they finished dinner. Prowl offered to clean up but he was firmly refused.

“I got it,” Punch declared. “Ya got quartexes o’ rest to make up for before I wanna see ya liftin’ a digit. Go on up, get settled in.”

Smokescreen and Bluestreak each took hold of one of Prowl’s servos and let him out of the apartment. The stairs loomed and Prowl did not entirely trust his peds but he let himself be guided up. Jazz was close behind him, closer than Prowl normally cared for, but in this instance it was reassuring. If he felt, Jazz could stop him. The Twins followed after their progenitor. They were excited to have their best friend so close. Prowl was happy Bluestreak had made friends as generous and devoted as these two. Had they not gone to their progenitor wishing to help their friend... friends really, Prowl did not care to think what this next dark-cycle would have brought. Smokescreen entered the door code and the door slid op with a soft swish. The mechlings led him inside.

“This is amazing,” Prowl said as he looked around the open concept room. There was a table and chairs in the kitchen. A solid couch sat in front of an entertainment centre. Smokescreen hugged his arm.

“They asked me to help pick what we needed. The couch is as close to one back home as I saw and we caught lost of cushions to make it even better.”

“It is perfect, Smokescreen,” Prowl had static in his voice and tears in his optics.

“It reminded me of our place... when it was just us. Not that stuffy stuff he liked.”

It was not unlikely the simple, comfortable furnished Prowl had purchased for the habsuite he had rented. Those seven vorns had been the best of his life. Bluestreak was the only solace that had come from returning to that bonding. He was the only boon. Prowl hardly trusted himself to remain standing but he wanted to see what else they had chosen, Smokescreen was so pleased and so proud. His creations led him to the first berthroom. It was theirs to share. Two berths with drawers built into the frames sat against opposing walls. A blue geometric patterned quilt covered the berth that would be Smokescreen’s and a red and black striped one covered Bluestreak’s berth. There were two desk, a bookshelf and a chest of toys. The furniture looked solid, like it was meant to be lived on. Pictures covered the wall at the head of the berths. They were image captures from his mechlings own memories. Family moments, moments with their friends, Prowl teared up again.

“You do not mind sharing?” Prowl asked.

“We like it,” Smokescreen promised him and for now it might have been true. That was enough. “I hope you like what we did for your berthroom.”

“I am sure I will.”

A berth was all he could possibly imagine wanting. It could have been stiff as rock and that would have been enough because it was not in the shelter. There was no looming threat of someone wandering in. The door opened and Prowl saw it was a great deal more than a berth, though it was a wonderful berth. Smokescreen had chosen a heavy black and white quilt to go over red sheets and pillows. A bright red armchair sat in the window and a desk sat against the opposing wall, with bookcases on each side, bookcases that were full of datapads.

“Do you want to lie down?” Smokescreen asked. “You’re tired.”

“I would rather sit with you in the other room,” Prowl replied. He need to sit before he collapsed. This was all incredible and overwhelming. They led him out to it and Prowl did not quite collapse into it, but he did sag. The pillows were blissful. Smokescreen burrowed into his side and Bluestreak climbed into his lap. Jazz stood by. “Thank you. This is more than I could have imagined.”

“Y’all deserve a comfortable home,” Jazz declared. “There’s plenty o’ fuel in the pantry, but ya won’t need to cook wit my genitor downstairs. He’ll bring ya whatever ya could possibly want, hot ‘n ready to go.”

“I am a terrible cook,” Prowl said.

“We can teach ya, if ya want, when y’re stronger,” Jazz replied. “Rest for now, we got everythin’ else taken care of. Box over here has the makings o’ a shrine for the Festival. I thought that was somethin’ the three o’ ya outta do together.”

“Yes, thank you,” Prowl said. “Thank you so much.”

[kaetastic]

How Do You Do This?

pairing: Papa!Luca Changretta x Mama!Reader

summary: Luca remains at home while his wife rests in bed, exhausted and visibly sick. However, he didn’t know it would be this difficult to take care of the house and a child. [requested: @imaginesbymk​]

warning: fluff (wow why am i like this) & bitsy angst if you squintttt

word count: 2.8k

note: i feel like i haven’t done well in encapturing luca as a father and as a whole character (such an excuse to rewatch season 4) thank you so much for this request!! all of these fluff requests makin me turn to a fluffy lady oops- also, hope ya’ll don’t mind me naming the daughter :D just wanted something italian.

Eyelashes fluttering open before intermittently blinking shut due to the single blaring sunlight that slipped through the cracks of the blinds, Luca let out a noise that was in the middle of a groan and a hum. In any other words, it was a sound of him agreeing to the usual morning. Something he found pleasant. Usual mornings may be disliked by some because of how monotonous and irritatingly dull it was. Luca believed otherwise. 

Usual- common and repetitive mornings was a sign of a normal day without anything peculiar out of the ordinary. People who weren’t used to having guns pointed at them wouldn’t mind something out of the ordinary once in a while. Not Luca. The mafioso would be called mental if he had hoped for something random to be yanked out of a box for an approaching day. In his line of work, it was better to pray for the same day on repeat, rather than countless pop-ups of issues from another group. Or worse, to wave off to men who had been ardent to their job and loyal to their work in coffins.

His shoulders were pulled taut as he stretched out the muscles that had been slumbering well through the night. All thanks to his well-payed and efficient timetable of the work he needed to be done with. Running down his fingers down his face, he couldn’t help but cheer a slight joy at the remembrance that it was finally Friday. Last day of work for the week. 

If there weren’t any emergencies calls that would take up the whole day. The Italian couldn’t help but notice that the recent short emergency calls had taken up nearly both of his weekdays. Barely had time to spend with Maria. The corners of his lips curled up even more. 

It had been roughly three years since his little girl had stumbled upon the world. And ever since then, the Italian believed that his world beamed brighter. Well, he was already riding clouds when he had met the woman who managed to enrapture his heart with her impressive magical abilities. But after the cheeky little girl had been born into the world, Luca was sure he was flying through the clouds. There were no other feelings that matched that of having a child. A girl- to add on that. Once again- usual, repetitive mornings of replaying past memories. 

Even though he thought without a doubt that he would die and rot to end his own branch, he was wrong. The times he had repeated the words to himself and to his mother that there would be no women who would be there for him when he would appear to their house drowned in rivers of blood; that there would be no one who would understand the world he had been born into was countless. He knew it was not a choice to birth into the criminalizing life. It was never a choice. Even if he had chosen to leave, he would trudge through sludge as a permanent trail for him to end up as a corpse. Luca was wrong, once again.

His mother who grasped onto the rope of hope which had smeared lines of red in her ageing palm had also whipped it onto the back of his head as a reminder that there was someone out there. Someone who would see him as him. Audrey Changretta was right. The woman strayed at the edge when her son was nearing the age of thirty without a woman by his side. Well, a woman that would stay permanently and was there to be with him. A miracle had hit them. 

“Luca?” A raspy voice called out his name, almost as if their throat had been scrapped dry. More like rubbing two grainy sandpapers against one another. The Italian pushed himself from the bed, the mattress dipping down as he sat.

“Yeah?” His fingers weaved through the locks of his hair that lingered a smear of the excessive gel he would slick through his hair nearly every single day. It coated the cracks of his fingers in a greasy plaster. A disgusted wince seeped through his teeth. Mussing his hair that had strands of hair poke at different angles while he watched the head of his wife peered into their bedroom, his whole body froze. A usual day would promote the activity of him peppering kisses all over his wife’s face (sometimes, if they were lucky to not be interrupted; if they were fast to finish- they could get the deed done). It doesn’t seem today would be a usual day… at all. Y/N’s face was tinted green, no different than that of a freshly plucked out cabbage.

“I think I’m sick.” As soon as the words brushed against her lips, the man sprung out of bed, not minding the chilly shivers of the air bite into his bare chest. Within four steps, he was already at the door where his wife looked like the living evidence of her theory.

“You look sick,” Luca mumbled as his hands cupped her cheeks. Her skin sizzled onto the palm of his hands. Just like that time he had accidentally slammed his hands onto a heated pan, thinking the gas was not on. “You’re burning, amore.”

The woman sported a pout at the fact that she won’t be able to carry out the chores of the house, “I’ll just call Dona. We talked during a party, and she told me she takes care of kids.” 

Her shoulders were curled down, slouched in disappointment and irritation from the inconvenient time for her to feel sluggish. There were so many things on the list she would have to do, but now- she would have to spend a day or how long the feeling manifested her muscles in bed. The phone sat on the counter of the kitchen. It stared its wide-opened eyes onto the figure that took a step towards itself. 

Even though it would take at least a couple of steps to reach the phone, it suddenly felt as if it had been placed further. Lights curtained the sides of her peripherals in blankets of haziness. Her toes slammed into the back of feet, the strings in her knees begun to slack. Wobbling in intermittent quivers, she barely had time to wrap her head around the idea of meeting the floor. 

“Hey, hey,” Luca was quick to jump onto his feet. Arms wrapping around her shoulders, he nudged her heated body to face him. “Come on, let’s get you tucked in bed. Maybe then you can finally understand the meaning of relaxation.”

An exhausted chuckle fell off her lips, although, it sounded more like a grated wheeze. The Italian was referring to her dedication to staying sane in the house. Her husband had, of course, allowed her to step outside the warm walls; however, the only reason she would do so was if her thoughts had been off the rails or it was a family dinner. And lingering inside the house with a three-year-old left a scribbled list that seemed quite hefty. Just looking at it led to an overwhelmingly heavy emotion of exhaustion. There was always something to brush over, there was always something to sweep into the trash can.

The man helped her into her side of the bed. Luca, the man who played the strings in the mafia; who had been rumoured to doing abominable in his youth, was gazing into the exasperated eyes of his wife with nothing but concern, “I already took out the flour, sugar, and butter. Make sure you tell Dona-”

“I’m not calling Dona,” Luca cut her off, his fingers brushed over the bumps of her scorching knuckles. “I’ll just stay home. I’ll take care of Maria. It’ll be okay.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the slight quirk of his wife’s eyebrows. Even when she looked like she had seen death, she had the ability to amuse him. There were doubts in her head, bouncing off the walls as she beamed at him, almost sceptical at the sound of his list. However, hers’ had been mild and more tamed compared to the Italian. 

Inside his chest, he was roaring in frustration at the task he had assigned to himself. In his head, he was slamming every possible angle of his brain into his skull. The man had never taken care of Maria- alone. There was a major, very prominent difference when his wife or someone with experience of handling a child, was present by his side to take care of the infant. 

The longest he had been with his own daughter- alone, was when she was an infant age of one when his cousins had come over to drop something off. To which his wife had what felt like a stretched out conversation. It was for half an hour. He just had to make sure the baby was sound asleep (she didn’t move a muscle). 

Luca’s only memory and experience of taking care of Maria alone were for half an hour. The promise he had just made bounced out of his lips as if it was a mere reassurance to throwing out a dog’s shit. It was not. Even though her chest prickled worries and concern for the very new idea, there was nothing stored in her muscles for her to oppose. 

Wavering through an overwhelmingly large amount of feelings sitting on her chest was a patent emotion of guilt. Y/N falling sick had been the reason Luca won’t be going to work. Luca glanced at the eyes he had stumbled upon countless times, “Don’t worry. You stay here and rest.” 

His warm lips pressed onto her sizzling forehead before he yanked a random dress shirt from his closet. The corners of his lips curled up at the sight of the clearly exhausted woman tucked in the warmth of their bed, her back facing him. Creaking the door close to leave a minuscule gap between it and its frame, Luca was more than determined. With a tug on his buttoned shirt, his eyes brushed over the house. There was roaring ambition for him to seize the day, and succeed in the promise he had made. If he was going to do this, he will do this right. Oh, the call first.

The man stifled a cough as white powder sprung into the air to tickle his nose. He squinted his eyes to gaze through the misty haze concocted by the flour as if a blocking waterfall. Was it enough? Fingers running over his shirt, he barely spent time to bat an eye at the painting he had smeared all over his white dress shirt. A faint scraping noise echoed while his index fingers traced over the printed words on the book. Luca lost count of how many cups he had thrown into the bowl.

While he had a midlife crisis in hopes of figuring out how many cups of flour he had just hurled, a sob trickled into the quiet house. Nudging the underlying sound of cars zooming past their house, and the irritating hum of the lightbulb aside, no noise had interrupted the Italian’s extreme focus on the noted recipe. 

He was trying to be as precise as he could be. Well, that was until the little person had woken up from their deep slumber. With a huff, he brushed the excess flour from his palm onto his pants. 

“Good morning,” The man announced, startling the baby even though she had narrowed her eyes at the wide-open door for the expected lady. The string of tears balanced on her eyelid quivered to drain down her cheeks at the sight of the Italian man. Slightly panicked, his hands that were clamouring dry from the flour smeared all over his palm were quick to pull the awakened baby out of the low crib. “Shh shh, come on, è solo papà.” (it’s just daddy)

There was no doubt that the Italian had every muscle in his body spike up from the sudden obstacle he would have to face. A hefty one at that. Bouncing on his feet, his mussed morning hair that he had tried to tame (to which he failed) smacked onto her forehead. Maria, the three-year-old who had her father’s dark eyes that shimmered gold under warm light, and his sombre locks, stared at the man who held her. Luca, on a usual day, would be out before she would awaken from her slumber. No wonder the baby had been startled to see the man who spent his whole day in the walls of his office.

Strings of cries from the infant called for her mother, hands wiggling towards the open door; her feet prodding into the Italian’s stomach, in hopes of getting away, “Mamma is sick, so, it’s just you and me,” Maria halted to stare deep into his eyes as if she had understood his words. 

The corners of his lips curled up at the sweet sound of silence before it swirled back down at the familiar noise of crying. Not wanting the sick woman to wake up, he rapidly dashed to the window. Nudging the curtains to rest on the back of his head, he pointed at the puffy sky, “Look. A bird.”

Maria’s eyes beamed at the pigeons that flew to rest on a branch before it trailed back to her father’s face, “It’s papà. I’m sorry if I scared you,” With a heartbeat set at a normal pace, the baby finally digested the figure who practically stomped into her room. “Come on, I’m making breakfast.”

After settling down Maria who now blabbered on and on about her toys, the Italian mafioso didn’t waste time to get on with the pancakes. Cracking the egg (just as the book said), he peered onto the next line of instruction. While he proceeded to make sure that everything was in the bowl, and he had whisked, Luca couldn’t help but throw a glance towards the giggling child. In Maria’s hands were the stuffed dolls she had grown up with. She wiggled a teddy in front of a quite butchered female doll. 

From the distance, he could only hear indistinct mumbling as she created a conversation between the toys. Luca couldn’t help but crack a smile. The years of him believing that having a family in such an organization was impeccably dangerous had been thrown out of the window. It might’ve been dangerous, but he would always be there.

The man had already cranked up the gas and prepared the first pancake. It did not look appetizing at all. The sides were frayed, plastered with blotches of black colouring. Not poisoning my child today. With a flip, the crunching sound of the failure meeting with the trash bag crinkled into the air. Pouring the batter, the pan sizzled at the cooling sensation, “Papa. Full.”

Maria pointed. Luca’s face fell. The one thing he had dreaded, he would have to face. It was sooner or later. Even though he had discarded the pancake, and he had paced towards the infant with a very fake smile in hopes of comforting her, there was nothing but sobbing in his head. He had seen his wife do it multiple times. Luca could do it.

It’s true, Luca could do it (even he impressed himself). Anyone could. But, could everyone successfully insert the pin to secure the cotton diapers? No. Luca did it, but he had no courage in him to attempt once more. He could still feel the shivering of his finger as the skin of his thumb wrapped around the cooling metal of the pin. Maria had been somewhat cooperable.

The three-year-old had only little patience while she watched her father pierce the pin through the first layer of her diapers. However, the energetic child had sprinted off, bare for anyone to see, to scurry around the house. Luca had spent some time in chasing and coaxing the baby in wearing the diapers first. 

Munching on the pale pancakes, Maria’s eyes twinkled before tearing off a bigger portion. An exasperated sigh left his lips. The familiar kiss of coldness bit into his skin. Luca glanced down in exhaustion. His neck might’ve felt like it would collapse in his work hours while he jotted away on papers, he couldn’t help but feel his muscles plead for a merciful, brief death. The sight of his shirt glued onto his skin where the water splashed out of the bath, added a block of the feeling ‘drained’.

While the infant gingerly bit into the slices to get the full taste, Luca slithered into his bedroom. The man practically melted into the floor at the sight of his gazing wife, “How do you do this?” 

[neverendingstories00]

Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.3)

Summary: Safin takes you on a tour of your new home and offers an interesting proposition.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: n/a

A/n: Guys, sometime needs to take my labtop away. Safin is 100% going to be the death of me. I cannot stop thinking about this pyscho man PLEASE rearrange my guts. Anyways, school is starting for me tomorrow (today since i’m posting this at like 2:30am). I’ll try and get Ch.4 out asap since that’s where the drama is gonna rise. Also, thank you for all the support and comments! I’m gonna respond to them all tomorrow, I promise. I love ya’ll and enjoy the story!! ❣️❣️

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Three days had gone by. You refused to leave your room after Safin’s temper tantrum. Three days in isolation weren’t the worst thing in the world even if you had no idea where you were. The room Safin had given you was elegant and bigger than your old flat. It was like if Japanese Zen had met modern times. A living room with endless books and plants connected to a bedroom and large bathroom. You felt like you were in a fancy hotel. Inside of the bathroom was a freestanding club that outlook a rock garden. Of course, you had tried to break the glass or crawl out one of the closet vents, but everything had been locked shut. At one point, you had felt the room had been made just for you (which it probably had been). Safin must have had a lot of time on his hands to be able to construct it. The books that were on the shelves were the same books you owned a home, the candles were all lavender and cherry blossom, and even the small amount of clothes he had offered and gotten your sizing in were accurate to your taste. It was oddly amiable, but alarming that he knew so much about you.

As you finished making your Feng Shi bed, you heard a gentle knock at the door. With years in the military, you had recognized footstep patterns. Safin had light but quick footsteps, his boots always making a clicking noise.  

“Good morning Y/n.” He says, his cold accented voice slightly muffled behind the door. “I wanted to come and apologize for my uncivilized manner a few nights ago. I didn’t realize that you would be in such a sensitive state. I believe adjusting to new surroundings can be quite difficult. The way I acted certainly didn’t help with that. I did not mean to frighten you.”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even want to respond. If you could survive on your own in the wilderness for a month, then you could survive in a lavish bedroom in the middle of god no’s where until-

Oh right. There weren’t coming.

“It truly bothers me that you feel the need to isolate yourself in that room.” Safin. Instead of sounding condescending, he seemed genuine and even beseeching. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink.”

“I’m fine, thank you though.” You coldy reply, seeing it as a facade. Safin was an anarchist, insane and cruel. “You’re a solid actor though, I’ll give you that.”

Safin sighs but doesn’t give in to anger or defeat. “For what I did to you, you have every right to upset at me. I’m upset at myself. I’m sorry for scaring you into isolation, my dear. It was not my intention.”

You refuse to respond, crossing your arms as you hear him let out a loud sigh. Safin looks at the nearest object to throw in frustration but stops himself for her.

“Y/n, I need you to understand that under no circumstance, that I will ever hurt you. You are a resident, not a prisoner. I want to show you my..” He freezes. It’s not a home, it’s a lair. But for y/n’s sake, it was there home. “I mean, our home. It will be short, and I will get you something to eat. After that, I will not bother you if you accompany me for just one hour.”

Two sides of you were battling with each other. The younger and more stubborn part of you wants to say a snarky remark and tell him to kindly fuck off. But the wiser and more calm side of you says that your starving and need to get out. You don’t sympathize with his actions and hate him more than anything in the world. The man threatened to hurt your friends and family if you didn’t obey his commands. But If he was going to hurt you, then why hasn’t he killed you yet? What was the point of keeping you there, knowing that you could possibly kill him with anything? Safin has stalked your whole life, from your clothing sizes to your military history.

You freeze as your fingers fiddle with each other. Letting the villain win always bothered you. But he offered you food and freedom for an hour. He had better kept to his promise. Looking at the door, you break the silence. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

He responds, “Take your time.”

Walking over the closet, you look at the outfits organized by monotone colors. Everything seemed the same as you searched for something that wasn’t oversized on you. Eventually, you came down to wearing a black turtleneck, light grayish blue kimono jacket, and olive peg pants with black boots. The clothes were oddly comfortable and looked more expensive than your shitty flat. You hated wearing tight and revealing clothes, so it was doable. Looking in the mirror before you leave, you see your eyes. They’re tired from crying and sleepless nights. Your body had no energy as your stomach rumbled and throat thirsted for water. The last person you wanted to see was Safin, but you truly had no choice.

Opening the door, you see him standing in front of it with a straight posture and hands behind his back. A subtle smile appeared on his face, seeing you walk out.

“You look lovely, y/n.” He compliments as you walk side by side. He thought you could pull anything off and still looking amazing. You looked at him and nod, a silent response of “thank you”.

As you walk down the hallway, Safin noticed y/n limping more than walking. He made sure Serrano and his men had there asses yelled at. They had done everything they weren’t supposed to do; treat you like an animal, hurt, and embarrass her. No wonder y/n hated him, he thought she was going to be a prisoner or some toy for Safin to fiddle around with. As much as Safin yearned for her beauty, he saw her talent and intelligence. She would be useful in many ways.

In an attempt to be a gentleman, he held his arm out for her for support. Y/n, being the woman she was, silently and polarity declined this offer. Safin found it darling that she was so stubborn, refusing the help of others even if she needed it. Seeing you limp and silently groan made Safin’s stone cold heart drop. He wouldn’t be a gentleman if he didn’t help this sweet, little y/n. In a devilish move, Safin tucked his arm under her hand, linking them both. Her clutched fist dangled in his tight hold, wanting to resist. Seeing her [y/s/c] burn up, Safin softly smiled at her. She eventually gave him as her fist unclenched, softly leaning onto him.

The hallways were long and large, lit by hidden lights. From what you could tell, it seemed like an abandoned Russian military site that had been reconstructed by Safin. It was all concrete and void of any color or life. The Architecture was Raw, brutalist, extraordinary. Taking you up a dark hallway, Safin showed you a bright hallway, full of mustard yellow art. Leading you under a dark tunnel, it revealed a large, empty room. In the middle of the room was a large low black table with cushions, and that was it. On the sides were rock gardens full of shrubs and bamboo. You could hear a running river disconnect the gardens from the concrete gray floor. A few guards stared at you for linking arms with Safin. Seeing them whisper made you look down. Safin had noticed and looked at the men, who had fear in there eyes as they stood straight.

Safin explained that his room was where he and Serrano (or other co-workers in his words) would discuss their ordeals. He saw the light in y/n’s slowly disappear, seeing her thoughts run to something else. There wasn’t really much to show considering that Safin was the only man who inhabited the submarine pen. The soldiers and Serrano resided on another part of the island. He didn’t want to bore y/n but wanted to make sure she was adjusted with her new home.

“Are you enjoying everything, my dear?” He asked, Y/n looked up and nodded in response. She looked exhausted and upset, trying to hide it. Her once glowy [y/s/c] skin was turning lifeless and grey. Safin could see that you were miserable and depressed. He knew being trapped in the submarine pen wasn’t ideal, he had been doing it for years and was ever so alone. Having the company of a woman was something he desired more than anything. Over the years his man had brought him women, but they refused to lay with because of his scars. Safin hated seeing the once joyful and bright light he saw in you.

No words came out of your mouth. You once again nod in response, forcing a faked and sad smile. Safin heart breaks seeing you so silent and upset. His grasp tightens on your arm, to squeeze some reassurance into your dying soul.

“My dear, please speak to me.” He gently cooed, looking into her [y/e/c] orbs.

“I’m fine, just please continue…” You sigh in frustration.

Not knowing what to say, Safin simply continues. It had been years since he had touched or even been close to a woman. Having you here with him was a dream come true. He hated having you sleep all by yourself that was in the opposite quarters of him. All he could imagine was y/n’s soft cries into her pillow from giving up on life. He knew what would hopefully cheer you up. Walking up a spiral staircase, Safin opened the door for you to exit. Upon exiting, you were greeted with a beautiful view. Safin allowed you to walk to the edge to admire the breathtaking view. Not one cloud was in the bright, blue sky. The top of the submarine pen was covered in the island’s rich plants. You truly were in the middle of nowhere, you could have been in the Medaterrian or off the coast of Africa. The Island was so beautiful on the outside, yet so depressing and ugly on the inside. The sun shined onto your skin as you felt the gentle breeze through your hair.

You stand on the edge, seeing that the only island in the distance was you. You were surrounded by miles of water, along with the world’s most feared Anarchist. “It’s so..”

“Breathtaking.” He breathed, standing right behind you. You turn around, somewhat scared by how close he was. Your [y/e/c] met with his milky orbs. His face was grey and dark, his sleek black hair, and dark navy clothes were so dark except for his eyes. He had an usual and exotic face. But his eyes were beautiful and mesmerizing. “Just like you, my dear.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. What had been a nice moment turned into Safin trying to subtly flirt, or so that’s what you thought. “Can you please call me y/n?”

A small frown appeared on Safin’s arms. He’s confused about why you don’t enjoy his attention. “Why not, my sweet?”

“Because I’m not your partner,” You clarify. The way those words rolled over his lips made you squirm and your cheeks burn.

“Whatever you say, my little dove.” He smiles, holding you close. A disgusted “ugh” escapes from your mouth. The time you had outside makes you feel somewhat better. Feeling the sun and wind against your skin felt so normal in your little fucked up world.

Safin tried to pull you closer to him, but you pull away. Even if he was trying to be a “gentlemen’, he was still an anarchist who wanted to kill millions and overthrow the government. All you knew was that you weren’t going to fall in love with him, ever. You shrug him off, looking away from him.

“How did you find this place?” You ask to break the silence.

“Me and Serrano discovered this place when I had left Spectre,” He explains, looking around the gardens before back at y/n. “It was an abandoned communist Submarine Pen. Nobody inhabited it, so I simply took it as my own. I was based in Okinawa before I denounced, so I took slight inspiration from the gardens.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Denounced Spectre?”

“One of my targets resurfaced, a young woman. A woman who I spared...who I loved,” Safin stated, “I had let them go and let them live a comfortable life. She promised herself to me, but loved another man...and birthed his child when she was mine. Spectre wanted her alive, I wanted her and her whole family dead. When they didn’t let me kill all of them, I killed every agent I could. All of them.”

Chills had been sent down your spine. When Safin didn’t get his way, he used violence. You never knew Spectre’s downfall, but all along it had been his man. No wonder Bond was able to take them down; it was all because Safin had practically murdered half of them in a rage since he couldn’t kill his ex-lover’s family. Your thoughts began to race. If you didn’t do as Safin pleased, would he truly kill you? Who could have ever loved someone such as Safin? Too many questions came to your mind.

  “So, that’s what you do.” You noted, raising your eyebrows. “Kidnap women and force them to fall in love with you?”

Safin’s face scrunches up with anger, “No, she was different. She was a whore. I never hurt her. I spoiled her and loved her. She betrayed me. But you...” He looks at you with his expressions softening. “Are different. Out of all the women I have encountered, you y/n...are different.”

“That’s all you men come up?” You snort, staring right into his eyes. “Say that were different and then only use us for our bodies? You’re different, Safin. If you don’t get what you please, you act out. You use violence and kill.”

Safin looked at y/n, seeing the smirk on her face. She knew how obsessed he was with her, the anarchist obsessed with the cyrptographer. Safin had no intention of killing you and couldn’t bring himself to kill the woman he was madly in love with. Instead of becoming upset, he saw through you. All y/n was doing was poking the bear, refusing to give into Safin. Safin knew her antics all too well.

“Your hands are not clean either, y/n,” He debated. “Three hundred and thirteen men is a large kill count for such a young woman…”

In your short time in the military, you had achieved one of the highest kill counts in your ranking. Everyone knew you as the girl who never missed. From surviving alone in Serbia and crawling out of building rubble in Iraq, you were respected and feared. But that had been in the past when you still were young and had sanity. Now you were older, wiser, and even more broken. The military had changed your life drastically.

Safin truly knew how to dig under your skin and make you upset. He wanted to see you weak and feel stronger. You refused to let him. A small voice in your head kept telling you, “ Don't play his game. Play yours.”

 “ Safin, you’re the most accomplished stalker I’ve ever met” You chuckle. He’s oddly smiling like nothing was wrong.

“A beautiful bird cannot freely fly in a cage.” The anarchist response, a small smile on his face.  He relinked your arms as you walked back inside of the submarine pen.

Safin saw y/n, once acting up again. Seeing her make small “hmphs” and look away softly made Safin chuckle. He kept telling himself that with time, she would fall in love with him. Y/n was a young and stubborn woman who didn’t go down without a fight. Once Safin had her, he wasn’t going to let her go. Y/n was all Safin’s now. All the anarchist ever desired was to have company in his lonely lair. Not only someone to love but someone he could talk to and even work with. Y/n was the woman of his dreams who he had yearned for. She had to fall in love with him. She didn’t have another choice.

Safin let her slide away but still kept their arms linked. A part of him wanted to carry her to there next location, but he knew that she would probably punch him. In his spare time, Safin spent hours preparing the submarine pen for Y/n’s arrival. The bedroom was designed to fulfill her needs, but that wasn’t the only place that was meant for her.

“Close your eyes,” He says as you arrive at a large door.

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, immediately protesting. “Your going to trap me in a room where I cannot escape, aren’t you?”

“You are a guest, not a prisoner.” Safin reminded. You roll your eyes, deciding to go alone. Closing your eyes, Safin’s opens the door and leads you in. Taking small steps into the room, you can bear water running and birds chirping. A light that wasn’t artificial was projecting onto your skin. Opening your eyes, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

You were inside of a large glass atrium that had an open ceiling, showing the sun and cherry blossom tears. Their sakura petals fell into the garden, a few landing on your clothes and hair. Like all of the other gardens in the submarine pen, it was inspired after a Japanese Zen Garden but with color. There were Cherries, Bamboo, Camellias, Lavender, and a range of other flowers. Out of all of the places in your cold and unwelcoming home, this place had shined the brightest. It brought a true smile onto your face. Letting go of Safin, you walk down into the shrubs and are greeted with a small pond and a chabudai with a teapot and two cups.

“Would you like to have some tea?” Safin offers. You turn around and nod, a smile still on his face. Your not smiling at him, but the beauty of the garden. Before, the flat you had lived in was too small to host a garden (you also lived in the heart of Chelsea). As a substitute, your garden was a bunch of homemade terrariums and flowers. It felt like ethereal heaven.

The two of you sit down in the garden. Safin loves to see you so memorized with all of the plants. He had been in your apartment a few times when you weren’t there. He didn’t know how you managed to live in such a contained space. He had noticed all of the flowers and candles you had kept around and tried to replicate it best. He wasn’t doing something for himself, but his y/n.

“ Your smile is like the flowers in the spring.” He compliments. You look at him as you admire the diverse range of flowers that surround you. “It’s divine.”

“Oh..” You say as you feel your cheeks burn. This man was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. Safin went from kidnapping you to giving you a beautiful garden, along with subtle flirting. You weren’t really into dating much and never were hit on, even if you were a young woman. “Um, thank you..?”

He pours you a cup of Chai tea, and the two of you sit there, drinking in silence. Safin refuses to take his eyes off of you, admiring your every breath you take. Seeing you look at the flowers, fiddle with the cup, and small strands of hair fall into your face as you push them behind your ear. Everything about you was so magical to Safin. No matter what, Safin was going to make y/n fall in love with him. The two of you had enjoyed your tea in peace. Out of all of the madness, being in the gardens brought you peace.

Safin had let you enjoy the moment until he asked the question that he had been pondering about. “Do you love me?”

You nearly spit your tea out. Safin had been subtly flirting with you, but hearing him say the world love made you nearly choke. His face looked surprised, waiting for an answer. You had barely been around this man for a week, and he was already claiming he loved then. Then again, he did stalk you.

“I..um..no?” You spit, furrowing your thick eyebrows. The question had caught you completely off-guard.

Safin smiles, nodding at the response. Although upset at your answer, he knows that you will eventually have to give into him. Safin always got what he wanted, no matter the cost. “Fair enough, you will come around with time.”

The younger and more stubborn part of you would have loved to throw the tea into his hideous face and beat him. But it wasn’t so simple. Safin was a dangerous and mysterious man. The reason Europe was probably going to go into a civil war was because of him. M16 was probably going to have it’s a downfall because his blood became tainted on your hands. Not only were your friends were at risk, but so was your family. Safin had made a threat that if you didn’t comply, then he would...hurt them for you to love you. You couldn’t love a man that would hurt your family and drag them into your mess.

So you did the selfless act. You, a young woman, sacrificed yourself to Safin so your family could be safe from him. You would comply but at a price. No matter the cost, you wouldn’t give Safin exactly what he wanted.

Y/n was giving him the silent treatment again. Her face scrunched up as she looked away, annoyed.

“More like a thousand years.”

“Listen to me, my dear. I will strike a deal. Every night, I will ask you at dinner if you love me. Tell me no as much as you want. I don’t care how long it takes for you to come to your senses.” Safin proposes his plan. He sees y/n’s sudden interest with his “idea.”

“And when I do?”

“The next day will be your wedding day.”

Your jaw almost drops to the ground. Safin was an insane man; you already knew that. He was delusional enough to think that you were going to love him, but marry? That was a whole other level.

“You told Q in Athens you wanted to fall in love before you married, so I have given you however long you need.” He reassures. “But I know it will happen.”

You look at him with pure hate in your eyes. Words could barely process in your mind. You clench your teacup so tightly that you don’t even care if it begins to burn your palms. Safin had a smile on his face. He stood up and walked over to you, helping you up.

“I can get up myself, thank you very much,” You grumble as you walk ahead of him. Safin catches up and walks right beside you, seeing your anger. He pulls you closer than he did last time, tightly holding onto you. He knew that you weren’t going to protest if your family and friends were on the line. As you walk back to the bedroom, you feel relieved since being with Safin is emotionally exhausting. You mentally declare that he is one of the most insane men you had ever come across.

He stops in front of the door. A pissy “goodbye” leaves your mouth before Safin takes your hand, spinning you around. Your faces are even closer now. He smells like an expensive cologne with his haunting, big green eyes. The scars on his face aren’t burns, but horrid cuts that mutated his whole face. His hands were cold and rough from all of the scars. Safin doesn’t speak at all and just looks at your face in a creepy manner.

You feel his fingers brush against your skin as he puts a camellia behind your hair.  Safin backs away, a smile on his face as he adores you. Out of all of the gloom in his life, y/n was ever so bright. She had been caught off guard when he placed the flower in her hair. His beautiful bride to be.

“I thought it would go well with your hair,’ He purrs as his fingers stroke it. “Anything would look lovely on you.”

Holding back at eye-roll, a soft sigh escapes your lips. “Thanks…”

“I hope you enjoyed our time together. The garden is for you and only you. Feel free to wander as you please. After all, this is our home now.” He slowly backs away, seeing your eyes watch him disappear down the fall. “I will be pack to pick you up for dinner at seven. Goodbye, my sweet y/n.”

Once he disappeared, you retreat back to your room and slam the door. You see yourself in the mirror with a bright flower in your hair. The hair you had combed had been touched by Safin, making you cringe. As much as you hated him, this new place was your home. This would be your life from now on, whether you liked it or not. Your family and friends’ lives were on the line. It wasn’t such a horrible life. The submarine pen was void of all life but lavish. If being in love with Safin meant your mother and sister would be safe, then so it be. You couldn’t believe you, a simple cryptographer, was the Anarchist’s, true love. Sighing in the mirror, you ask yourself a question that will never be answered.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

[jjba-hell]

Fate and Fortune

Part 6

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,

Ya’ll gonna have to excuse this piece- it’s not my best work but I publish regardless TwT, I promise we’ll be back to our regular scheduled writing soon )^o^(

Content warning is REALLY mild like I can literally think of nothing in particular other than a painfully flirtatious Noriaki (yes, I do see him a bit more suave and intelligent, not very innocent)

For the moots @risottoneroo (hope you’re doing well) @fyre23 and @risottosplug (hi, I don’t know why you followed me but thank you, i appreciate (⌒▽⌒) and sorry this is the first piece you got tagged in, seriously the previously linked shit it better)

A/N: I’d love to keep things fresh on the blog- lemme know what chracaters ya’ll would like to see me write

“It feels like the only time you’re near me is when you’re healing me.” Kakyoin laughed as she hovered Fortune’s fingers in front of his mouth.

She chuckled quietly, “And whose fault is that?”

“Oh, you misunderstand. I’m most certainly not blaming you.” His hand wrapped lightly around the wrist closest to him. “I’m asking if I could get to know you a bit better than ‘Vera, the stand fever survivor’.”

She looked down at his hand around her wrist, feeling a moment of girlish glee until she shook it off and with smirk spreading over her lips, she looked into those amethyst eyes. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me, Noriaki.”

With a smooth slip of her fingers out of his hand she was standing straight, looking down at him as he remained seated on the bench outside the payphone.

Noriaki rose up and in the process, reminded her that she was the shortest one in the group. “Well since you know better, what is that you think I’m doing- exactly?”

Vera’s eyebrow shot up as a grin slowly spread over her lips. “Digging for information, of course... albeit a bit more charismatically than most. How’s your mouth feel?”

“It feels good as new.” He bowed his head at her in thanks as they approached the open payphone door to where Mr Joestar was standing.

Noriaki Kakyoin was most certainly a smooth talker, whether he was polite or sly, Vera couldn’t quite distinguish but obviously speaking to the charming redhead was certainly much easier than trying to talk to Jotaro.

“We’ll talk our next steps at the restaurant.” Mr Joestar had announced. Vera reached down for the duffel bag she had thrown together in the airport bathroom in Japan.

“I could have sworn I saw you traveling with a suitcase.” Noriaki remarked, the expected suave smile following. It was him looping her duffel bag handles into his hand that came as a surprise to her.

“Well, they promised me a ticket to Hong Kong if I could travel by hand luggage- had to leave half my suitcase behind I’m afraid.”

“My condolences.” Was all he said as she fell in line with him toward the restaurant- Jotaro’s broad back being the only thing she could see in front of her all the way there.

“Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you Kakyoin?” She nudged into his side gently. “I suppose I am in your debt for carrying my bag for me. So... I’ll be generous and offer three answers.”

Kakyoin hummed on contemplation. “My, my... what could I possibly ask?”

She shrugged, “Ask and find out for yourself.”

“Very well... where were you born?”

The snort of laughter she had to keep in was the most undignified thing she let slip in front of the charmer. “In the sky.”

The smile left Kakyoin’s face as he turned his head to see if she was joking. Up front Avdol was snickering as well.

“How is that possible?”

“That would be the second question...” she warned.

“Nonsense! You can’t be so vague in your answers!”

“And I suppose you’ll be the judge of that?”

Kakyoin gave just the tiniest pout before caving. “The curiosity would kill me, do explain.”

“My parents were flying to Egypt when I was born- yes, I was born on an airplane between Britain and Egypt.”

Kakyoin took a moment to laugh with her as they entered the restaurant and hid the bag away for a moment. “Well, if not for my own shock- I might have showered you in jokes of your angelic nature.”

When Jotaro gave an audible snort of laughter as he sat down at the table, she couldn’t help but smile politely back at Noriaki. “Goodness, you want more answers- am I that fascinating to you?” She slid into the chair Noriaki held for her.

The question hanging over Kakyoin’s head this time suddenly made his cheeks dust a rosy shade. “I suppose you are, I do find you and your stand fascinating.”

She smiled gently at him, purposefully placing a hand atop his own on the table- enjoying the blush spreading over his whole face a bit too much.

While letting Mr Joestar help the Frenchman that had arrived at the table, Vera left for a quick smoke break outside the restaurant- enjoying her choice of oversized jean jacket on her back.

Not much longer, Jotaro joined her around the corner in the alleyway beside the restaurant. For a moment he seemed to glare at her from below his cap yet again, and yet again- her gaze unchanging.

Then with another disinterested scoff he looked away. “Angelic, my ass.” He mumbled, turning to face the exit of the alleyway.

The laugh that left Vera’s lips was almost offensive. She held her side in pain as she laughed, other hand supporting her against the wall.

Jotaro only looked behind his shoulder at her in further distaste. “You laugh like a fucking hyena.”

Her breath came back a few gasps later and while wiping tears out of her eyes she walked up to stand beside him. “Aw, are you jealous Jotaro?”

He nearly whipped his whole body to face her, the reaction she was gauging from him being all she need to maintain that petty little smirk on her lips.

“What are you getting at, woman?”

She only shrugged, bringing her cigarette to her lips for a drag- maintaining eye contact with him through the blue white smoke. “I can’t think of any other reason you’d stare me down and invalidate a compliment intended for me.” She answered after letting the smoke dribble out of her mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” He grumbled.

“Well, Kakyoin is a disgusting flirt, I’ll give you that but don’t get angry just because I can flirt back.”

The frustrated groan and toss of his cigarette in the alleyway was more than enough evidence she needed. He didn’t like her banter with Noriaki but... he was gonna have to learn to open his mouth and say something to her if he was that painfully jealous.

She returned to the restaurant in absolute shambles- a table on fire and the Frenchman Mr Joestar was helping displaying his stand.

This time it was Vera’s turn to give an audibly obnoxious sigh and pull one of the abandoned chairs closer for her to sit down at. “Fucking hell, I only had some hot cola from a vendor today- I was looking forward to the beef chop suey just now.”

All eyes were on her as she sat down in the chair, crossed one leg over the other and dug inside her jean jacket pocket. Fortune had already phased the Frenchman’s passport into her pocket and was currently phasing his earrings into her other pocket.

With a dramatic flourish and an arm over the backrest of her chair she looked the gray-haired man up and down then looked at the open passport in her hand. “Jean Pierre Polnareff- that’s hopefully correct?”

Jean seemed to immensely tense at her casual display of her own ability but nonetheless, he brought the tip of the rapier closer to her face. “Mademoiselle, I’d rather not lay an unnecessary hand on you, if possible.”

She tipped her head back and forth for a moment, admiring her reflection in the stand’s silver armor- driving the point home by getting up and closing the distance- reaching in her pocket to hold his earrings to her ears.

“I think these suit me better, don’t you think monsiour?”

The realization dawned on his face and soon Polnareff was swatting at his neck like the earrings was supposed to be there.

“Let me guess- another sworn allegiance puppet for dio, perhaps money? What is it?”

“Vera, stop provoking him- his qualm is with me.” Avdol interjected, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Vera calmly looked back at her guardian, a slight frown to her face. “Not to seem childish, but do you see me as incapable, Avdol?”

The calm smile spreading his lips was all she really needed. She knew him well enough to know it was simply because he had a handle on his opponent.

At the Tiger Balm Garden- Vera sat atop a tiger statue’s back, near the entrance of their little chosen battlefield. Admittedly, holding back from jumping in and healing was more difficult than intended but Avdol had never been a victim of anything.

After the fight she hopped off as Avdol walked away from Polnareff’s flaming corpse- Fortune’d dials moving to help the healing process from the stand attack wounds.

“You’re not gonna let him burn to death, are you?” She asked, knowing that full well he wasn’t exactly listening to her but instead the mumblings of the burning man behind them.

With a snap of his finger, Avdol’s flames extinguished themselves and unsurprisingly- the flesh blood made itself known.

Fortune and Star Platinum followed to rid the world of another fleshbud. Vera had Fortune heal the unconscious man before following after the others to the docks.

Polnareff showing up was probably the last thing Vera had expected for their Hong Kong detour, but regardless Avdol and Jotaro refused the Frenchman’s thanks but Vera took hers with the smuggest smirk allowed.

The sight of Mr Joestar’s mechanical hand both fascinated and disgusted her- watching as he slipped his white glove back on as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“And for what reason do you need to find someone with two right hands?”

Cherie’s story was truly tragic but it seemed to have been completely forgotten as Polnareff went to snap a few pictures of the two tourists girls that tried to get near Jotaro.

“What a perv.” She muttered, more to herself but it got a chuckle from Mr Joestar. Just aside from Jean’s leg was a coul of rope- first tied onto the deck. Fortune moved out of her body and phased the coil of rope around Polnareff’s foot and then slipped the loop of rope from the deck off manually. The wind ad picked up just enough to tie around the Frenchman’s leg and watch as he he was frantically dragged off the deck and into the water.

“Hmmmm justice is best served cold.” She muttered, passing Avdol only to have her foot break through the wooden deck below her feet.

Avdol laughed openly, holding a hand to help her out with her knee stuck in the wood. “What we’re you saying about justice again?”

“Hey! This was for healing you guys! This was correlation! Not causation!”

[oswildin]

Human ~ Dhawan!Master x Reader

~ Inspired by some prompts I found and Clara’s argument with the Doctor in Kill The Moon ~

Request: Hi could I also request a Dhawan!Master x reader fic too please. You work is incredible by the way. ( @lea813france )

Summary: The Master has gone too far, and the consequence is losing you.

Warnings: Angsty af ya’ll

You’d been travelling with the Master for a while now. You knew what he was like. He was chaotic, unpredictable and most of all dangerous. You knew all of it. But that was the risks you took when you decided to travel with him, leaving everything behind. You didn’t know why, but you just felt inclined to go with him. It wasn’t like he offered you to come along either. But you felt perhaps he needed someone to keep an eye on him, put him in his place every now and again, and at least try to humble him.

You couldn’t understand it, but something drew you to him. It was undeniable. You felt oddly calm around him, but also on edge at the same time. It was a bizarre feeling. Something indescribable. Perhaps that’s why you’d stuck around for so long.

Don’t get me wrong, he annoyed the hell out of you. Certain choices he made, you definitely didn’t agree with, and would often spend days sulking about it, ignoring him. Which of course, he didn’t mind, gave him time to think and plot. You were one of the few people who weren’t afraid to stand up to him. He thought you were brave but also very stupid for doing so.

But this time, he’d gone too far. He’d put you in an impossible situation. He wanted you to destroy a civilisation. They were planning war on the universe, plotting away. He told you it was your choice to make. He wanted to see what you would do, how far you would go. He gave you a choice. Kill them, or risk letting them start a war. Of course, you couldn’t do it. You were panicking, crying, begging for him to help. But he just stood there, analysing you. He wanted you to make the decision, not him.

You entered the TARDIS, a numb feeling in your body as you felt your hands tremble. The Master casually strolled past you, not sparing you a single glance as he approached the console. You stared at him in anger. You had never felt so... Small. So... Helpless.

“What gives you the right?”

You muttered quietly, voice shaking from anger. He peered up, finally glancing at you as he took in your disheveled appearance. He could see the fire in your eyes. The disgust as you looked at him. He stayed silent, allowing you to continue.

“You put me in an impossible situation. What was it? A test?” You furrowed your brows, staring at him, hurt all across your features.

“I suppose.” He shrugged, continuing to fiddle with the buttons on the controls as you let out a shaky breath.

“So I’m just another one of your little games? Something to occupy the time with?!” You snapped, narrowing your eyes as he looked at you blankly, before he narrowed his own eyes.

“You wanted to come along. I didn’t ask.” He told you sternly, before you let out a breathy laugh, shaking you head in disbelief.

“You’re unbelievable.” You breathed out. “You are selfish, cruel... no you know what... You are despicable.” You spat, as he flared his nostrils at your words. “You think you’re so high and mighty. The oh so powerful Master.” You sneered as he took a threatening step forwards. No one, would speak to him that way.

“Watch your-“ He began, before you cut him off.

“I’m not finished, so shut up.” You hissed, as he growled under his breath. “I trusted you. You took that and you abused it. Who gave you the right to put me in that position?!” You exclaimed, anger shaking through your body.

“You did.” He said lowly. “When you stepped through those doors, when you let me into your life... That was all you.” He stood inches away from you as you felt the drying tear tracks on your cheeks. You shook your head in disgust.

“No.” You told him. “Don’t you dare pin this on me. This was all you!” You pointed at him. “I may have known the consequences of running away with you, but never, ever did I think you would do something like this to me.” You said sincerely, your face softening as sadness took over, slowly replacing the anger. He furrowed his brows, tilting his head ever so slightly as he looked at you. You couldn’t read the emotion behind his eyes.

“I wanted you to feel how is it to be me.” He told you. “To feel the adrenaline, that buzz...” He patted his chest. “In here...” You felt a tear fall. “How it feels to end a civilisation, all is takes is a push of a button.” You could see the burning rage in his eyes, realising this was him. This was the true him; scared, angry and unhinged.

“But I am not you!” You cried, feeling your lip tremble. “I never will be. I would never let myself become like you.” You admitted as he tensed his jaw, sniffling as he turned away, heading back to the controls.

“Then it’s time you left.” He told you emptily as he began to fly the ship. You swallowed the lump in your throat as it felt dry, sore from the crying. You stayed silent the flight home, as you awaited the landing. Finally it came. He didn’t turn to look back at you, as you took it as your sign to leave. You slowly walked towards the door, taking a breath before turning back one last time.

“I realised...” You began, voice soft. “I realised I was in love with you, when all my decisions revolved around you.” You croaked out, as you never saw his reaction, as you made a quick exit, closing the door behind you as you found yourself in your flat. You didn’t turn, hearing the ship disappear as you finally let yourself crumble.

It had been months since you left the Master. You found it difficult to get back into the swing of things on Earth. Luckily he had put you back not long after you had left, meaning you still had a job to go to. You often missed it. When you’d serve people their drinks, you would often find yourself searching for things that reminded you of him. As much as you hated him... You couldn’t help but still love him. You knew he was broken. You understood his pain, but it ran deeper than you ever thought possible.

You never expected him to feel the same towards you, but you had hoped that somewhere in his hearts, he felt some form of admiration, appreciation towards you. And on that day, all that hope was snatched away, diminished. It left you feeling empty inside. It changed your perception of people. You never truly know what they are capable of.

“I’ll take a tea.”

You froze upon hearing that voice. You didn’t dare turn around... You felt that sadness reignite within as you had wished to hear that voice again... Slowly, you turned, seeing the familiar face stood at the counter of your work as he looked emotionless at you. You tried to find the words, but nothing was coming out of your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” You managed to push out, just above a whisper.

“Trying to make amends.” He admitted as you felt your heart stop at his words.

You sat opposite him, managing to convince your boss to give you a break early as you fiddled with your apron, not sure where to begin or even how to. So he did.

“The tea here is awful.” He grimaced as he placed down the piping hot cup of tea back onto the table. You didn’t smile. Not even a bit. This was going to be harder than he thought. “Got back into the swing of things then? That mundane human life...” He glanced around at the other people in the cafe, watching them all living their pointless lives.

“What did you expect me to do?” You finally spoke, peering up at him as he found his gaze back on your own.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I just assumed you would’ve looked for something a bit more adventurous.” He admitted, raising a brow. You scoffed.

“I think I’ve had enough of that in my lifetime, don’t you?” You snapped as he bit his lip, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“You always were too emotional.” He commented as you clenched your jaw.

“Says you.” You retorted. “You’re the one harbouring all those emotions, letting them out in toxic ways.” You argued, as he pulled a face, before nodding sharply.

“Fair point.” He said, as you was taken back by his admission. “I made a mistake.” You furrowed your brows at his words.

“Well... I didn’t expect that.” You whispered, surprised as he gave you a glare.

“Can you shut up for one second? I’m trying to apologise.” You couldn’t help but smirk at his snarky request, as it slowly began to feel like the good old days again. “Truth is, I don’t care what anyone thinks.” He sat back in his seat. “Never have.” He sniffed. “But then you... Some stupid little human, came waltzing into my life.” You rolled your eyes at his dig, before leaning forwards, placing your arms on the table.

“I don’t think I know you anymore.” You admitted, as he looked at you with a stoic expression. There was a brief moment of silence before you spoke again. “The worst thing is... even after what you did... all of that...” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m still in love with you.” You whispered, voice shaking slightly, as you felt tears burning your eyes. You quickly tore your gaze away from his as you sniffled, clearing your throat, feeling pathetic at your admission. The Master didn’t say anything, staring at you in surprise, with sympathy in his eyes.

“You should’ve known not to fall for me.” He muttered as you gave him a tight smile.

“Yeah well... I’m only human.” You joked lightly as you peered at the clock. “My breaks nearly over.” You told him.

“Come with me.” He offered, leaning forwards once again. You stared at him, wanting nothing more than to say yes. But you knew that was your heart talking. You gave him a sad smile.

“I can’t.” You shook your head sadly. “I just can’t.” You saw a flash of disappointment on his features as he pushed himself back in his seat again. “I still need time.” You looked at him, furrowing your brows. “How long has it been for you?” You asked, noticing how his face had more lines than you remembered, his eyes looked more tired and desperate. He shrugged, clicking his tongue.

“I don’t know.” He told you, not looking at you. “Few years.” He admitted as you felt your heart skip a beat. Even after all that time... He still thought of you... Wanted you back...

“Years?” You croaked out, as you looked at him with big eyes. “Was there...” You fiddled with your apron again. “Was there anyone else?” You asked, fearing the answer as he shook his head.

“No.” He told you. “Never could’ve been.” You gave him a small smile at that.

“Come back tomorrow.” You told him, standing from your seat. “Ask me again.” You gave him a soft smile. “You never know I might say yes.” You hesitantly reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder as he tensed at the touch. “Also, the tea isn’t awful, you just have bad taste.” You teased, before he gave you a small smile as you walked away, going back to your job.

And of course, you did say yes the next day. You couldn’t stay angry at him long, knowing he had had years to think it over, to regret everything. And you had to admit, that made him pretty human to you.

~

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