#And I very much doubt they’d be allowed to divorce. Marry young and quick and marry forever

[honorthysalad]

Hikaru’s mom compilation. 3 times she shows up. Outside of this- I think she’s mentioned three times: cut up some watermelon, one of the reasons Hikaru doesn’t want to die, and then to say she, along with the hikaru’s grandma, doesn’t know anything about Hichi-san.

[imherongraystairstrash]

If the whole promo thing is still going, what would you think of 56 for Henry/Charlotte?

I’m sorry I keep writing such long fics :( I just get too carried away sometimes, especially if I get to write a Hottie fic! (No joke, I squealed from excitement when I saw this request) Anyway, here it is:

Prompt #56: “I did it to protect you.”

Ship: Henry & Charlotte (Hottie/ Fairwell)

Charlotte stared at her husband’s expressionless face and counted each breath, each pulse she felt in her hand. With each beat of his heart, the same sentence repeated in her mind: please wake up. Charlotte kissed his hand and rested her forehead on it. 

She felt horrible. It was all her fault that Henry would never be able to walk again as she was the one to send them to Cadair Idris. The weight of her guilt was unbearable and she had no ways of relieving it. She looked at her husband again. Sweet Henry, with his wonderful boyish smile and his adorable freckles and the way he speaks so passionately of his experiments and— 

Charlotte held back a sob. No, she would not cry. She’d done enough of that and if she cried anymore, it would be absurd. That’s what her father used to say, anyway; don’t show too much emotion because it makes you look weak, Charlotte; you’re too sensitive, Charlotte; don’t cry over a bruised knee, you’re being incredibly dramatic, Charlotte. 

It wasn’t that her father was a bad man, he was just repeating what he’d been taught. As a result, however, Charlotte didn’t show much emotion through her facial expressions, at least not until she began fancying Henry Branwell. 

She was young and had thought all of the other boys rude or dull. But when she first met Henry, when she first had a conversation with him, her heart had yearned for him and had never stopped. 

How he spoke with such passion she had never seen in a man their age. His emerald eyes practically glowed as he spoke of his love for science. He was younger than she and yet he was so interesting, so different. She could have listened to him speak until the sun reached the horizon that night. Perhaps even longer. 

After that, she’d begun searching for his face every time there was an event. She loved him with every fibre of her body. He made her realize expressing emotion was not weak or sensitive and inspired her to be more open to others, to take a tiny piece of herself and display it to the world.

She sighed and switched positions again, resting her head on his chest and listening to the pitter-patter of his heart. The Silent Brothers said he would awake, but he was still asleep, and the longer he slept, the harder it was for Charlotte to trust the brothers. Lying so close to him made her remember of times gone by. Of memories she will hold close in her heart, like photographs in a box, so not to forget them:

She remembered how he fumbled for his stele, how he was red faced as he drew the second marriage rune over her heart. Though she had been nervous for that moment of the night, she found herself at ease with Henry, who never made her uncomfortable. Even though she thought he didn’t love her, she couldn’t feel nervous because all she could think about was how Henry was her husband and that he might one day love her. For now, he cared for her and that was all she needed. 

Charlotte didn’t realize how much she had yearned for love—utter and complete love—until Henry gave it to her. Now, she had grown so accustomed to being loved she couldn’t bear not having it.  

She closed her eyes and willed the tears away. Until, that is, she felt fingers in her hair and, startled, whipped her head up. Henry was looking at her, a sleepy smile on his wonderful face. Charlotte admired him for less than a second before she threw herself at him in very unladylike fashion, and fastened her arms around his neck. She dug her face into his neck. 

“I’m so happy you’re awake.”

She felt Henry chuckle under her. He placed the softest of kisses on her temple and held her. Charlotte allowed herself to bask in the embrace. How many times had she wanted to do this since they were married and hadn’t because she was convinced that he didn’t love her? That throwing herself at him would be unwanted attention?

She couldn’t help but think of a time when she was in a similar position as this, when they had been married for a couple of years…

Days Past:

“Henry, why did you let yourself get hurt like that?” Charlotte asked. She had been in his crypt with him, when they were frightened by a loud bang upstairs (most likely from one of the children upstairs), which prompted Henry to drop too much of a solution into another. Charlotte didn’t remember much of what happened next, only that she ended up behind Henry, who’d taken the brunt of the explosion, covering his forearms and parts of his neck and face in burns.  Thankfully, none were too severe and he should recover with little to no scarring. 

“I did it to protect you, Charlotte.” Henry said. 

Charlotte felt her heart sinking. 

“You let yourself get burned so that I wouldn’t get hurt?”

“Of course, Lottie. And I’d do it again and again.”

“Henry, you could have been killed.”

“I know.”

Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. Henry had risked his life, his extraordinary life which he could spend inventing something that will save countless Nephilim lives, for her plain life. She was no wonder, nor could she ever dream of being more than a measly Head of Institute, but Henry? His life was irreplaceable. And yet he’d risked it for her’s without a second of doubt. 

She felt herself lean towards her husband before she knew what she was doing. By the time she realized, their lips were too close for her to back away. She stayed there, frozen on the spot, completely and utterly horrified. She looked at Henry’s wide eyes and knew she’d made a huge mistake. How foolish was she to not realize her protected her because of nothing other than friendship? Henry was fond of her, nothing more. He didn’t want this kind of affection from her. She was about to back away, hoping Henry would forget this embarrassing moment, when he lifted his head enough to catch her lips in his. 

Charlotte was frozen in surprise, for only a moment, before she began kissing him back. It was so sweet and wonderful that she allowed herself to be lost in it. It was only her and Henry and it didn’t matter that he didn’t love her the way she loved him because he was kissing her and he liked her enough to jump in front of that explosion so that she would be safe. For now, that was all she needed. His warm hand at the nape of her neck, how his thumb stroked where her jawline began made her feel as though electricity were coursing through her body. Most of all, it felt right; as though this was the way it was supposed to be.

She wished she could kiss him like this more often, that imitate moments didn’t occur once in a blue moon, but at least she was married to the man she loved, at least—

“Must you two do this in public? It’s such an eyesore.” 

Charlotte and Henry quickly pulled apart. 

Henry’s face was red from embarrassment. From the heat she felt on her cheeks, she didn’t doubt for a moment that she looked the same. 

“What is it, Will?” Charlotte said, trying to regain some composure.

“Those ghastly Silent Brothers have gone back to their lonely cave home, or whatever it’s called.”

“The Silent City,” Henry said helpfully.

“I couldn’t care less what it’s called.”

“Will,” Charlotte said, hiding her face in her hands. “A tiny bit of manners, please.” 

Will looked at her for a moment and then turned away in a dismissive gesture.

“Anyway, they said that Henry has to stay in that bed for a day or two… I guess that’s a blessing for the other institute inhabitants, since you can’t have—”

“Will.”

Will gave them a devilish smile. “Well, that’s it. Carry on, I guess.”

Charlotte still had trouble believing Will was twelve; so young and yet so quick to judge. He seemed to try to get her to hate him, but Charlotte could never do anything but love him. Every time she looked into his eyes, she saw that little boy, who begged to not let his parents into the Institute. Who pleaded for Charlotte to take him in. 

“What are we going to do with that boy?”

“He’s just going through something.” Henry said, “all young lads do. It’ll go away with age.”

Charlotte gave the door a long look. “I hope so.”

What she wanted to say, but didn’t dare voice out for fear, was that she hoped he was alright.

…

“What’s the matter, Lottie?”

Now, Charlotte looked into her husband’s eyes. They reminded her always of the first time they’d met and she was enthralled by them.

“Henry,” she said, putting a hand to his cheek. She could feel tears streaming down her face because she was going to have to tell him. Brother Enoch offered to be the bearer of bad news, as had Will, but she insisted on telling Henry herself. She knew he would want it to be her. But that didn’t make it any less difficult.

“Henry, darling, i—it’s your legs.”

Henry’s face smoothed out.

“You’re paralyzed from the hip down.” She said, choking out the words.

Henry caught her eye and then looked down, his eyebrow furrowing. He wasn’t angry; he looked confused. And then sad. 

“Lottie,” he said, looking up at her. “If you wish to get a divorce—”

Charlotte’s jaw fell open in horror. “Divorce?! Henry, why would I divorce you? I love you more than anything I could love in this world.”

Henry locked eyes with her and let out a deep breath in relief. 

He smiled at her with such genuine joy, her heart broke a little bit. “Then being paralyzed can’t be that bad. Not with you by my side.”

Charlotte didn’t restrain herself like she would have, before she knew Henry loved her back. Instead she threw herself in his arms and kissed him.

“I’ll help you the best I can, Henry.”

“I know you will, Lottie. You’re the sweetest woman God ever made. And you blessed me with being able to call you my wife.”

“It is I who is blessed.” Charlotte said, kissing him before he could say anything else. Henry was alright, which meant she would be alright too.

Tagging: @hitheresomeoneusingthus @livvyheronstairs @celias @tsccreatorsnet @ti-bae-rius (I think you enjoyed the snippet I gave for this one, so I’m tagging you in case you wanted to read the fic!) @rinadragomir @youngreckless @atla-lok143 @aceofjesper @autumnangel20 @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens

If you want to be tagged, let me know!!

[fallen029]

Risk and Reward

When he was a little boy, Laxus found that he felt alone. A lot.

Which wasn't wholly true. Gramps was always there. Even when his parents couldn't be. Separated by death from his mother and by mental instability from his father, the man was a rather steady constant in his early life. Not to mention many of the other, now long gone members from the guildhall that had no real, lasting impression on Fairy Tail's new breed, not really, but when he remembered the glory days, the people he emulated and adored, it was always from when he was around the age of five and even the lowliest of mage looked like a master.

Still, for all the people he was around, Laxus always felt kinda lonely. The women in the guild liked to sing to him and giggle at all his fantastical, little child lies and the men liked to toss him up on their shoulders and tell fantastical embellishments of their own.

But they all left.

Eventually.

The life of the mage was hard and not made for family men leading to many leaving it as they aged. It was an unreliable profession, if it could even be called that, that was abandoned somewhere along the way for most. It always stung though, hurt real deep, when someone had their emblem removed because they'd gotten married or found something more productive to do with their time, than drinking and spell casting.

When he was really little, Laxus couldn't wait to have a kid of his own, a son, who'd he teach magic to and come home with gifts from exotic places for, like his daddy did for him. But as Ivan got more deluded and memories of his faded from his mind, it became difficult for him, even as a young child, to desire that.

A family.

Because families eventually were ripped apart. Whether from death, illness, or just the person joining a new guild or deciding the life wasn't for them, there was no constant for him. There was no constant for anybody. It was just better to learn and accept that.

The closest thing you could ever have, ever treasure, were friends and it took him a damn long time, even, to make that concession. But with as loyal followers as the Thunder Legion, it was hard not to. Even as hard as he tried to push them away, as horrible as he was to them at times, they were there for him, to see him through it.

And he had no doubt, regardless what became of the guild or any of their personal lives, that nothing could ever truly tear them apart.

Nothing.

But that didn't mean that he went back on any of his other assertions. No. As he grew, Laxus found little need for a family. Nothing deeper than the guild or the Thunder Legion, at least. He had fine luck with women and when something ran it's course, that was just it.

It was good that way.

For a long time.

He figured it was the same way for Mirajane too, honestly, in the beginning. She told him as much, or at least he felt, one of the nights when they laid together in his bed and tried hard to not consider the ramifications of their relationships recent development.

"My parents loved one another," she recalled softly as he laid beside, seemingly disinterested outwardly, hoping he didn't give away too much how deeply he cared for her words. "Very much. We didn't have a lot, you know, or they didn't, I guess, but… They sick. One right after the other. And then… Sometimes it just bothers me, I guess. To think about. How you can do everything right, bother absolutely no one, and you still end up..."

He agreed.

Wholeheartedly.

Life took things from you. Everything from you. And fine, yes, you had to make some concessions, allow yourself some joys, but to take too much, to indulge too harshly, only led to heartbreak. You didn't need more than a guild and good friends. Anything more just bled you dry eventually.

Which was why he knew that it had to end eventually. He welcomed it, even. He and Mirajane were never supposed to be together, it was a gross overstepping of boundaries and he knew, oh man, he knew, how sticky and horrible guild relationships went, but he just…

They both loved Fairy Tail, more than anything, and knew what it stood for and meant. So when, inevitably, everything in their slowly forming relationship broke apart, he just hoped they'd be able to amicably find peace between them.

If only for the sake of the enigma they both treasured so deeply.

But things never seemed to reach their natural end. He thought they should. Soon. He was gone a lot, on his S-Class jobs, and that was usually what led to women eventually growing tired of him. It made it difficult to build a connection, much less maintain it, and he was reaching an age where the women in his circle wanted some sort of commitment.

Something real.

But Laxus always felt too real.

Mira was always just there though, holding down the guildhall while he was away, and she didn't seem to wonder what took him so long, on jobs that seemed rather upfront. Never questioned his activity or absence.

"I'd travel too," she admitted to him once. "If I could."

When he mentioned her ability to do just this, she only shook her head, made a vague reference to the bar, and, well, he wasn't pushing her into anything. Not when she wasn't doing it to him either.

That was the thing though. She wasn't pushing him. At all. Mirajane seemed just as content with their lack of pace as he was trying so hard to find any sort of issue with it. There was nothing he could find wrong with them, not enough to sacrifice what she did bring to his life at least, and man, he wanted there to be something.

Anything.

But there was nothing.

"Sometimes," Mira told him one night as they walked to his apartment together, late at night, after he stuck around to watch her close down the hall, "I just want to stay in moments. You know?"

He knew.

But he also knew that you couldn't.

Because time went forward and feelings couldn't stay stagnate, no matter how much you wanted them to. They either grew or diminished and he didn't understand it, really, why it was becoming increasingly hard to even picture himself with someone else, to think about what he wanted with Mirajane, their life, their future, and how could he even think about that? A future? With someone who thought the exact same as him, that if you fell too hard into it, gave into the universe too much, it would rip your heart right back out of you?

He didn't think he could be that open. That honest. But one morning as they sat at the kitchen table, over the breakfast she'd prepared, Mirajane only stared at him with quizzical eyes and a curious expression.

"Laxus," she asked softly after he finished, laid it all out there, all his thoughts and feelings, in an honesty on stone cold sobriety could provide, "you think that I don't want that? To fall in love and get married and-"

"Your parents died, Mira," he told her plainly with a heavy tone. "And so did mine. And so does everyones. No matter how much you love one another, you always die. Or end up divorced. Or separated. Or you have a kid and you feel stuck together forever even though you're miserable and-"

"Laxus, that's the point though." And she smiled in uncertainty, reaching across the table to lay a hand over his. "You can't experience real happiness without risk. Theirs no reward without it. I didn't tell you about my parents because I hate how it turns out for them; I told you about it because I think about them all the time and how lucky I would be, even if just for a night, to find myself that in love. No matter how it ended."

Staring heavily down at their hands then, Laxus shook his head as he said, "I just… I don't want to be hurt. Or to hurt someone else like that."

"Then you'll never get to really experience it," she replied simply. "And that makes me really sad for you."

She started to retract it then, her hand, to shift back in her seat, but Laxus was quick then, to grasp her hand, and as Mirajane only stared at him with wide eyes, Laxus found his own avoiding the woman's with a huff.

"I think I love you," he whispered softly, making a disgusted face despite his declaration. "Mirajane."

Grinning warmly, she told him in full sincerity, "I know, dragon."

And he couldn't be for sure, certainly not in that moment, that it wouldn't all blow up in his face in the coming days, much less months or years, but as he let out a breath then, he didn't realize how empty he'd feel, with his admission. But as he sucked one right back up, staring into the woman's bright blue eyes, he felt a fullness he hadn't in a long time.

Laxus hadn't felt alone in a long time. Not since he was a little boy. Not since he'd discovered the sense of companionship that could be derived from one's team, friends, followers, and guild.

But that early winter morning, as Mirajane giggled and he allowed himself to smile, if only a bit, he found that there had been something else missing as well. The indulgence he'd always kept at arms length. For as bitter as he knew it would taste, were it to be taken away, he had to admit, in that moment, there was nothing sweeter.