#and how he looks up at me like that just such heartbreaking loyalty and joy to be with me

[angelmush]

me and goose

[taneshadeva]

Heart Broken

Karma by Queen Naija (R&B)

Karma was a song inspired by one of Queen's original song called "Medicine". She made the song to express how she felt after she had been in a marriage of 3 years with a child that was crumbling due to infidelity by her former husband. In her song she explains how she's always been there form event in "the darkest moments" and it wasn't enough for him. She expresses the support she gave him but still wasn't satisfied.

Heartbreak Anniversary by Giveon (R&B, Electronic, Soul)

Heartbreak Anniversary is a song based a relationship breakup, and the song is about getting over an ex, it is was poetic. He originally came up with the song when he heard music while walking into the studio and he said "this sounds like an I got my heart broke a year ago song,’ and I keep feeling that pain when it comes around". In his song he explains how " Balloons are deflated

Guess they look lifeless like me

We miss you on your side of the bed, mmm

Still got your things here

And they stare at me like souvenirs

Don't wanna let you out my head". He expresses how he felt by comparing hisself to deflated balloons and that he misses her and that stuff she left behind reminding him of her.

Ball without You by 21 Savage (Rap)

Ball without you reflects on a relationship that he lost and expresses feeling betrayal. 21 Savage contemplates his capacity for love and whether love or loyalty matters most in a relationship. The song shows how he gets emotional about a woman he's no longer with. As he says in his song " You runnin' 'round drinkin' liquor Takin' pictures 'cause you miss me (I know you miss me)" expressing that he believe that she is doing this to gain his attention and he interprets it as she misses him.

Change by Deftone (Rock)

Change reflects an individual is actually enjoying the experience, as in ‘feeling so alive’. He takes this person, imprisons him or her and ‘pulls off their wings’. Or put more simply, he stifles and takes away the source of their newfound joy and then ‘laughs’ about it. He meets his fate at the hands of the addressee. And then in the aftermath, the latter once again reclaims that feeling of happiness which Chino previously stole away. Rather this piece reads more distinctly as sort of a revenge fantasy or story of justice, if you will, in which the vocalist clearly does the subject wrong but eventually ends up on the wrong side of a gun, while the addressee, who was his victim, remains chillin".

All I wanted by Paramore (Rock)

All I wanted reflects a girl expressing her love to her lover. But, the lover never really got that she loved them so much. She is thinking about when she first realized that she fell in love with them (go back to the beginning and relive the start). She loved her lover for who they are. It wasn't about money or anything else. It was all about the love she has for lover!

The Heart Wants What it Wants by Selena Gomez (Pop)

The Heart Wants What it Wants reflects one of Selena's former relationship with a well known artist. The song expresses  love is a powerful emotion that overrides any logical thoughts or advice that one may receive. Even when you know it may not be the best or healthiest thing for you, the heart still wants what it wants. The song also touches on the idea that when it comes to love, there isn't always a happy ending or guaranteed success, but that doesn't make the feelings any less real. It can be difficult to deny true emotions even when the path ahead may be uncertain. Such as when you are romantically or sexually attracted to someone, then no amount of logic or reason can dissuade you.

I chose my theme to be Heart Broken because I recently suffered a heartbreak that I am still trying to cope with. Just recently (a little over 2 months ago) I lost my Grandfather on February 19, 2023 and it has been very hard as I am still grieving and learning to cope with his death. Ever since then I've gone down hill, with school and procrastination, hiding my feelings. Ive been throwing my self in work so I don't have to deal with it. But music has been a coping mechanism for me as it helps me calm down, and brings me hope and happiness. Although the music I chose are more based on relationship heartbreaks, I can feel there pain in there music, and I can relate to the pain.

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

In continuation to this post about Dooku’s stupid sad face, let’s wallow some more! This man is the worst and I wish he’d quit breaking my heart. 

Much like being ordered to use his connection to Yoda to try and destroy him visibly broke Dooku’s heart (no, I’m not kidding, I promise there’s evidence for that, please check it out, oh my gosh Dooku why are you like this), being told to get rid of Ventress clearly hurt him so much. 

There is just so much to talk about here. There are several key things in this episode (s3ep12 - Nightsisters). For one thing, after Dooku kneels to Sidious in the first scene, we never see him standing up again - except to kneel again, or when we see him through a com. So ‘Lord Tyranus’ is, in fact, nothing more than a beaten dog, whose only power is an image - that is, a mirage. It’s a nice touch, and a good reminder that those who follow the Dark Side are, in fact, nothing but slaves - and most notably, they are slaves to themselves, which is what happens here. 

Dooku does not want to give up Ventress. He readily admits that she is important to him - and isn’t that foolish? Why would you ever tell a Sith Lord that there is something in the Galaxy beside yourself that you value? What’s more, he immediately interjects when Sidious says that she is ‘too important.’ 

To question his Sith Master like that is reckless and dangerous. Dooku is cunning, calculating, and most of all, self-serving - so for him to speak out like this means he couldn’t help himself. That’s how much he valued her. Unfortunately, the Dark will always make you value yourself more. Indeed, when Sidious questions his loyalty - loyalty that is nothing but a sham, which they both know, because the way of the Sith is to stab each other in the back - Dooku is quick to say that he’d never train his own apprentice. (Which, you know, he does next episode when he gets Savage.)

But anyway, this is Dooku’s face right before he agrees to kill Ventress - and right before he bows - practically kowtows - to Sidious. It’s pure anger. 

But he agrees nonetheless. None of his anger, none of his hatred, none of his rage give him any power at all. And so, to preserve himself - because again, that’s what the Dark Side makes you do - he bows like an animal. When Anakin holds on to people because he can’t bear not to have them in his life, Dooku cuts people off because he is endangered by his connections, because of the position he put himself into in his quest for power. (Which is again quite ironic - a man called ‘Lord’ greets the man calling him that with complete subservience.) They go about it differently, but they are both undone by selfishness (and it’s not me saying it, it’s Lucas).

The most heartbreaking part about all of this though? When Dooku casts Ventress off, he’s not angry, he’s sad and defeated. 

Just look at his face when he calls her ‘child.’

He is framed as off-balanced and cracked, ffs! And just look at his eyes.

Listen to his voice in that scene! How slowly he talks, how regretful he sounds! He looks away when he tells her he’s ordered the troops to abandon her. And when he looks at her again, listen to how stiff and impersonal his words are, in direct contrast to his previous... well, gentleness.

To save himself, he destroys a part of himself. That’s Anakin’s story. That’s Maul’s story, that’s the story of the Dark - in trying to gain something for themselves, they give up what matters. Maul tries to gain power and loses his body, then tries to gain revenge and loses the remainder of his life to a pointless endeavor that will never fulfill him. Anakin tries to preserve himself from the pain of loss and ends up losing everything he holds dear to his own actions. Dooku tries to protect his own life, and in the end has nothing to live for, and eventually dies. They all hurt themselves through their self-centeredness. 

Just go and watch how defeated Dooku is when he says “I have done as you’ve asked, Asajj Ventress is dead.” Just look at his eyes right here:

And the worst thing is: this is the second time this has happened. Because Dooku did not fall because of Qui-Gon’s death - he was already a Sith when Naboo happened (as per s6ep10, The Lost One + the AotC timeline that was already too tight for him to have fallen, become Sidious’ apprentice and killed Syfo-Dias after Naboo rather than before). 

Dooku has been subjecting himself to the Dark - to his own base need for self-preservation - for over ten years at this point, and he keeps doing it. He keeps repeating the same mistakes, because no matter how much he loved Qui-Gon, or Ventress, or Yoda, when faced with the question ‘what do I choose between my own interest and the interest of someone I love’ the answer of the Dark is always: “I choose ME.” 

And the consequence is always suffering, for all the parties involved. 

It’s not a coincidence that this very ep shows us Ventress’ first Master - her real Master, in the ways that mattered - Ky Narec.

One looks at her with pride and love - the other with bitterness, and regret, when he can look at her.

One she looks up to with joy, absolute trust and equal love - the other leaves her terrified, betrayed and alone. 

Just compare Dooku to Obi-Wan - who always tries his hardest to save the ones he loves instead of preemptively cutting them off (Qui-Gon in TPM, Satine in s5, Ahsoka on Mortis, Cody in s7, Anakin because the Mustafar duel was choreographed to show that he was trying to let Anakin tire himself out and cool down, Luke in ANH) - and more often than not fails, but still tries no matter the cost to himself - and who lets go of what he has lost instead of holding onto bitterness and anger. Compare Dooku to Yoda, who is ready to give up his own safety and happiness, who is ready to die to protect Anakin (again, not kidding, here’s when it happens) rather than to pursue the outcome he wants. Yoda and Obi-Wan die with smiles on their faces, at peace, because the key to it all - the difference between love and attachment, and between love and self-preservation, and between letting go and cutting off, and between true power and the lies of the Sith - is always selflessness.

Whereas the Sith are slaves to their selfish impulses, the Jedi have the freedom to say no, I’m not going to save myself, I’m going to do what’s right, and I will be happier for it no matter how much it cost me. 

The whole point of this angstfest was to say: dammit, Dooku! He used to be wise enough and strong enough to know better, and he still did this to himself, and then dragged the entire Galaxy into chaos and darkness. And I love him so much, and this self destruction that is characteristic of the Sith breaks my heart.

[primehyuck]

YOU: chapter three - the beginning

Final Chapter

AKA you belong together

chapter 1 - chapter 2

chapter 3: fallingforyou

don’t you see me I think I’m falling, I’m falling for you - don’t you need me I think I’m falling, I’m falling for you

genre: (ex)boyfriend!Haechan with female reader

word count:~3100

warning: pure angst with some angsty fluff and some extra angst on top

Haechan thought that he was in pain before, he thought that the apex had finally passed over and that the days might start to get easier. He was wrong. 

Pain sweeps in after you hurt someone you love; it was how you had looked at him when he walked into his house that day with a girl that he had just met to take his mind off you. It was the way you spit fire at him and how he deserved it. It was white hot regret, searing through his chest and waking him up in the middle of the night. Pain was when you stopped coming around, and how everyone knew it was because of what he did. It’s a feeling that gets worse as time goes on and that can’t be numbed by strangers.

The two of you ending felt like a mistake to him the minute it happened, but his past experiences with breakups had taught him that regret is normal, of course you would miss each other, of course he’d be tempted to call you, but those feelings had always faded with time. This was different, every day his need for you grew, gnawing at the inside of his skin angrily, unrelenting. He was sure of the feeling, needing you to forgive him, the burn in his stomach aided only by imagining you had decided to love him again. 

Your shared friends acted like children of divorce, splitting their time between the two of you except those who had slight loyalty. Yeji was understanding but made it very clear that she stood on your side and Haechan was grateful that you had her. He at least lived with a handful of your closest friends, never truly alone if he was in the house, but you lived alone, and he didn’t want you to feel alienated from everyone else just because he fucked up. 

He was itching to talk to you, but terrified to call, too scared that you’d shut him down for good. He thought if he waited long enough then you’d see one another, maybe you’d feel better and want to come over again, that you’d keep your promise of not letting him lose you for completely. 

Haechan didn’t realize how over it could be until you slammed the door that day, taking your stuff and leaving a huge hole in his chest.

He’d seen you once since then, at a coffee shop that the two of you used to frequent. You were sitting in the back corner with a friend who was making you laugh wildly, the sight making him stop at the door, heart kicking in his chest. He stared for a moment before someone knocked into him to squeeze past before deciding to leave, not wanting to interrupt the joy that you were feeling in that moment. 

The worst part was that he knew it was his fault, that he basically chose to fuck it up and for what? To get you off his mind, to make you jealous, to hurt you as much as he was hurting even though he knew that you already were. Haechan’s selfishness ruined the progress you had both made and pushed you away, but it also made him realize just how much he needed you.

Yeji refused to give him any information, rolling her eyes at him every day that he asked, which was most “It’s not really your business anymore, don’t you think?”

He knew she was right; he just hated the fact. He hated that he saw you in his dreams every night but was terrified for the day when you stopped showing up. He hated how he couldn’t even think about unpacking the box of things you’d returned to him that day, shoving it deep into his closet and pretending like it didn’t ring in his ear as a constant reminder of how he had ruined everything. Most of all he hated how much he missed you, and how badly he hoped you missed him too.

------

You’d always thought that when people said heartbreak was the most painful thing they’d ever felt they were just being dramatic, having experienced it before, but all of those feelings paled in comparison to now.

You were struggling, avoiding Haechan completely proved itself to be much more difficult than you anticipated, having to give up your social life so you wouldn’t have to see him anymore. Distance, you were sure that’s all you needed. To create a space in your life that was free of him, to find something else to look forward to, to fill the gaps that he had left behind.

You wanted nothing more than to be able to be around him, to see him and not feel betrayed no matter how unfair it was for you to blame him for your hurt.

You still hadn’t been with anyone else, frustrated with yourself that even the idea of going on another date made you almost nauseous. How had he done it so easily? You were constantly talking yourself out of the idea that the four years you’d spent together didn’t mean much to him, that he was excited to get out of your relationship and move on. You thought of the night you broke up and how he had cried and told you he’d always love you, the memory less painful than the possibility of him realizing that losing you was a relief.

You tried to budget with yourself, only allowed to think about him for a certain amount of time every day. Wondering what happens when people don’t work out, what leads to the demise of something that nobody thought would ever end?

It’s hard to remember what you were like before him, ‘before’ felt so far away. You’re sure that you had a stronger sense of self before, you liked being alone before you met him, you were comfortable with your independence and only willing to give it up for someone who didn’t really take anything from you. In the end Haechan had taken nearly everything and then come back and scraped up the thin layer of pride that he had left behind.

Before he’d brought her home to you there was at least the silent reassurance that Haechan respected you, that he didn’t want to make you upset, that he was sitting in the same hurt. Ever since that day it was like your emotions had overwhelmed your ability to think straight, the anger you had initially felt quickly evaporating into embarrassment which only made you feel worse. 

“He should be embarrassed, not you!” Yeji had gasped when you explained how you were feeling “he’s the one that feels like he needs to prove something to you, not the other way around.” 

“But now I feel like I do have something to prove.”

It felt childish to admit, that you wanted to get back at him, especially because you knew deep down you wouldn’t be able to.

------

A sense of normalcy is restored when you’re with your friends, similar to your first outing after Haechan a few months prior. love radiates from everyone around you. It was overly competitive drinking games, Yeji asserting herself as the mom friend and forcing everyone to eat and drink water even if she wasn’t, and Renjun shushing everyone and then yelling the loudest a few minutes later; business as usual.

The setting was all too familiar, the same fire pit you had sat around a hundred times in the last four and a half years, same excited cheers when the patio door slid open, and the same beautiful boy walking out the door; fashionably late after a day at work.

There were a few major differences; the way your stomach flipped uneasily when you saw him, a few people glanced anxiously in your direction, and how instead walking out alone he was with the same girl who had forced you out of this house only a month earlier. You couldn’t name the feeling rising in your throat, flinching when Yeji’s hand fell reassuringly onto yours, forcing you to break eye contact with Haechan. 

“Oh, come the fuck on.” She mumbled and you shrugged, feeling the blood rush back into your fingers 

“He’s going to do whatever he wants.” You finished your drink in one long gulp, trying to finalize your emotions while the night continued around you. You heard her introducing herself to people, your ears ringing while you tried to avoid eye contact, not wanting to fake cordiality.

“I think you deserve another.” Renjun sat heavily beside you, popping the tab of a seltzer that you accepted gratefully, fingers tightening around Yeji’s when you heard her introduce herself next to you.

Haechan watched as you smiled at the girl he’d brought, quietly introducing yourself before pointing her in the direction of the cooler. When she walked away your eyes found his, unreadable, a stark difference to how it used to be when he looked at you.

He remembered the beginning, a night spent walking clumsily home from the bar, hand in hand, falling deeply in love with you with every passing second. You stopped down the street from his house, grabbing and kissing him with a fervor that he never wanted to pull away from, hands finding a home on the small of your back while you swayed drunkenly together. When you stopped to breathe and started to laugh, he laughed with you, begging you to tell him what was so funny.

“I just think that you were made for me.” You didn’t skip a beat, smiling at him like he hung the stars in the sky and in that moment, he wished he could, he wished that he could do something powerful enough to deserve your affection “I love that I can look across a crowded room at you and know exactly what’s going through your head. You make me special.”

Now you were looking at him like he was a stranger, a look that had him rethinking his every move, forgetting his goal for the night. A look that made him need to get up and go back into the house, fists clenching while he walked circles into the carpet of his room. He cursed at himself for bringing her with him, initially it had seemed like a great plan - she had wanted to meet you, to put a face to the name of the person he had been crying to her about for the last few weeks. He’s not sure how neither of them would think that maybe you wouldn’t take to the idea or that you would give him time to give you an explanation, that he even deserved a chance.

You pretended not to notice when he came back outside and went up to her, saying something only she could hear before leading her inside, both glancing your way as they went. This time you thought he might really be doing this on purpose to hurt you, struggling to keep up your conversation with Renjun until Haechan reappeared quickly, alone.

At the end of the night, you found yourself lying wide awake beside a sleeping Yeji, who had fallen asleep mid-sentence only minutes after her head hit the pillow. She had insisted you stay over after having so much to drink but knowing that Haechan was down the hall kept sleep just out of reach. When the sun began to rise you decided you’d had enough, climbing out of bed quietly and closing the door slowly so as not to disturb your best friend.

The house was silent, a quiet that is amplified by a soft morning sun that makes the air look almost hazy, the kind that only exists when everyone around you is sleeping. 

Being in the house felt like a dream sometimes, remembering all the time spent here with him, the way you made each other feel, all the milestones of your relationship. This house was the very beginning, but it was also the end. It was where he had asked you to be his girlfriend officially only a few weeks after meeting, it was where he’d told you he loved you for the first time.

You’d gone out for dinner, getting lost in conversation and not realizing you’d finished an entire bottle of wine together. Everything had been funny that night, coming up with stories for every stranger you passed - creating wonderful lives for people that looked like they deserved it. When you finally got home, stumbling only slightly through the hallway he had pushed you up against the wall and kissed you in a way that took your breath away, a kiss that was reminiscent of Gone with the Wind or Breakfast at Tiffany’s, one that you can still feel after so many years.

“You know what?” he had said, pulling away and leaning his forehead against yours, pushing you into the wall further “I’m really in love with you.”

“I’m really in love with you too.” Haechan had smiled so big when you said it that you could see his eyes sparkle even in the dark hallway, a smile you’d had the privilege of seeing so many times since then, one that could melt you in a second.

You stood outside of his bedroom door for a minute too long, shaking your head and letting out a shaky breath and going to leave, pulling out your phone to send Yeji a text explaining why you wouldn’t be there when she woke up.

Haechan rose from the couch before you’d even had the chance to notice him, stopping you in your tracks. He looked at you without saying anything before a sweet smile graced his lips, making your heart thrum rapidly in your chest. The rising sun cast an orange glow over everything, morning colors reflecting off his eyes and creating rainbows that only you could see; sometimes you felt stupid when you thought about how in love with him you still were but looking at him now it was obvious why.

“Hi,” he cleared his throat “I’m glad you’re awake. I was hoping I’d be able to talk to you last night but,” he trailed off with a shrug, looking out the window and running a hand through his messy hair “can we now?”

You were led to Haechan’s room, the familiar smell of his space gripping your lungs tightly while you stared at him.

“I owe you an apology” was the last thing you expected him to say. Haechan didn’t know what to do with his hands, anxiously picking at his nails until you nodded for him to continue “I shouldn’t have brought her here last night, I didn’t think it through, and I know I probably gave you the wrong idea”

He continued without taking a breath, not even trying to control the heartache in his voice “I knew that being friends would be hard but being without you feels impossible, I can’t stand it anymore. I keep fucking up and pushing you away which isn’t what I want.”

You studied him for a moment, trying to separate your heart from your head “What do you want?”

“Everything, I want everything.” He said it like it was the most obvious answer in the world, like you should have read his mind.

Before you could respond he was kissing you, firm grip on your face holding your chest to his. You kissed him back instinctually, arms climbing up his back to pull at his hair, the way you knew he liked to be kissed, the way you always had. Haechan felt like he could explode, air rushing into his lungs until you pulled away, pushing him back and staring at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Haechan’s lips were on fire, all he wanted was to kiss you again, in this moment he can’t believe he ever stopped.

“I can’t believe you,” fingers brushing over your own buzzing mouth “you aren’t allowed to“ he took a step forward and you swayed back with a shake of your head “you knew I would be here and you brought her, you don’t get to kiss me now.”

“No, no, no” he shook his head, desperate for you to understand “it isn’t like that, we’re just friends, barely.”

“You seemed pretty close last time I saw her.”

“I know, it was stupid, I was being so fucking stupid.” Haechan was earnest, forcing himself not to look away from you, needing you to see how hard he was trying “she’s back with her boyfriend, we were both using each other for the same thing. The only thing I talk about with her is you, she wanted to come tonight to meet you. I know that probably doesn’t make you feel better, but it’s the truth. We just didn’t think it through.”

He was right, although it made the fire in your stomach shrink it didn’t change what he had done. He inched closer to you, grateful that you were no longer moving away from him, debating whether he should drop to his knees and beg. Haechan was so close he could practically taste it, feeling like he was in competition with himself to win you back, thinking twice about every word, every breath.

“I don’t know what to say, I need you. If you don’t want me again, I understand, I’ll figure it out, fuck I don’t know” he was almost frantic, hands tugging harshly through his hair “I just can’t keep seeing you like this, I can’t be friends. I don’t love you any less than I did five months ago if anything I love you more. I need all of you.”

Relief pumped blood through your veins, knowing that he felt the exact same way you did. Something about his voice recalibrating your heart and bringing you back to yourself, back to Donghyuck.

You took a timid step toward him, and he nearly fell forward at your movement, bridging the gap between the two of you by grabbing your wrists, carefully twisting his fingers through yours, shamelessly wishing he could keep you this close - closer, forever

“I can’t survive this heartbreak twice.” You were gnawing you lip almost raw, anxious heat rising from the soles of your feet all the way to your scalp as he fumbled with your hands. 

“I barely made it through this time,” He was trying to catch your gaze, desperately wishing he could read your mind while his heart raced in his chest “I’ll never let you go again if you’ll let me have you.”

Bright rays of the sun created a kaleidoscope of light across your lips pressing to his, two hearts finally settling after months of unrest, back where they belong.

A/N

I’m emotionally attached to this version of haechan 

this chapter was really hard to write for some reason I had no idea where I wanted to take it and tbh still am not sure ! but this is it (#fin) so I hope you all enjoyed :)

Thank you for reading - again it’s my first time writing a multi chapter fic and angst so I was trying to navigate plot and things that I haven’t really before so I appreciated all the positive feedback that I’ve gotten the past few weeks !

i decided the next thing i write is going to be very nasty and smutty to make up for all these feelings :D

tag list (lmk if you want to be on a tag list for future works) - @gomjohnny , @infnteen , @imgettinlocoloco , @sunflowerhae, @skuezk , @nctlover94 , @daegalfangirl , @wanlore, @babylonez and @rrnhyuck (sorry it won’t let me tag you for some reason!)

[kingandfireheart]

Cassian's Love: words from a guy who speaks through actions

Something I love about Cassian is that he doesn't really hide the ball when it comes to his feelings for Nesta. He's most definitely an actions speak louder than words person (physical touch is his love language), but he does use words in ACOSF. I read someone say that Cassian didn't show his love for Nesta, and I completely disagree. Even though SJM never showed us Cassian saying the actual words, we see it so often through the small touches like flicking her cheek, the way that he never makes fun of her (many) questions, or the way he's always there, but he never pushes her too far.

In ACOWAR he confesses his love

" I have no regrets in my life, but this. That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta. I will find you again in the next world -- the next life. And we will have that time. I promise. "

Yes, there is a lot he doesn't say - that they are mates, that he wants more than just sex, that he loves her. He even goes far enough to attack Lanthys to prevent him from revealing the truth. (I can write a whole post on why he wouldn't tell her about being mates, but I think Nesta's reaction to Lucien's declaration at the end of ACOMAF can suffice as explanation).

After his heartbreaking confession in ACOWAR, it makes sense that he's more reserved with Nesta. When thinking about his almost confession on solstice, he even says, "He hardly managed to walk away with some semblance of pride. Over his cold, dead body would she do that to him again." He is protecting himself by ignoring the mating bond too ("Some small quiet part of his brain whispered otherwise. He ignored it. Had ignored it for a long time now.")

Still throughout the book, he owns up to his feelings for Nesta when given the opportunity -- he just doesn't say the words "I love you" or "You're my mate". This post goes through some scenes in chronological order, since they show how Cassian does care.

(I could write another whole post on how I feel cheated of two months of happy Nessian between Solstice and Starfall, but that's what fanfiction is for, right?).

When Mor asks if it pains him to see Nesta like this, he says:

"All of it pains me... It pains me that Nesta has become... this. It pains me that she and Feyre are always at each other's throats. It pains me that Feyre hurts over it, and I know Nesta does, too. It pains me that ..."

When he's pleading her to train, she asks him why he isn't negotiating harder, he says.

"For you, I have no strategies."

Then there's the confrontation before, "I'm always thinking of that look on your face". (Yes, he's goading her here, but I don't think he's lying)

"Why so many questions tonight?" // "Because we're talking like normal people, and I want to know. About all of it." // "Let's nor retread old territory, Nes." // "It never mattered to me whether you took half the Cauldron's power or a drop. It still doesn't matter. // "Why?" "Why do you even bother?" // "Why did you stay at my side when we went up against the King of Hybern during the last battle?"

Answer: because they're mates.

After Nesta fights with Elain, he tells her he'll be there for her.

"Whatever you need to throw at me, I can take it. I won't break." No challenge laced the words. Only a plea. // "You don't understand," she said, voice rasping. "I am not like you and the others." // "That's never bothered me one bit." (emphasis added)

When Rhys gives Nesta a mental warning about Gwyn:

"I'm pissed off that you can't seem to believe one good thing about her. That you refuse to fucking believe one good thing about her."

When they are discussing the Dread Trove and pushing Nesta to scry: Yes Cassian for arguing against only protecting Elain

" There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that should not be exposed to." // "But Nesta should?" Cassian growled.

"It's not right to wield Elain as a threat to manipulate Nesta into scrying." "There are harsher ways to convince Nesta, boy" "You're a fool if you think threats will make her obey you." ... "If we manipulate Nesta into scrying, even by using Elain against her, then we'll do what is necessary." "I don't like it."

After Nesta's nightmare:

"Hey." "Hello" "Are you all right?" "Yes." "Good" "You want to talk about it?" "No" "That's fine." "You want breakfast?" "I like your priorities, General." (italics added)

When Rhys and Feyre mention bringing in Helion:

"He'll help...If only for another shot at her." // Nesta rolled her eyes, and and the gesture was so normal that Cassian's smile became more genuine, edged with relief // You wear your heart for all to see, brother. Rhys said without turning Cassian's way. // Cassian only shrugged. He was past caring.

When they finally have sex , we have this short back-and-forth:

"I'll hurt you." // "I don't care" // "I do."

and my personal favorite

"I'm beyond lies right now, Nesta."

When Nesta asks whether Cassian enjoyed their previous encounter, he tells her:

I enjoyed myself too much. I've thought about it for days and days.

"Whatever you want. Whatever you need from me." He knew those were a fool's words, knew he offered up too much.

And when Nesta asks "How can I need you again so soon?" Answer: because they're mates.

"I've needed you from the moment I first met you. And now that I get to have you, I don't what to stop

When they find out about the new Dread Trove, he's quick to defend Nesta to others:

This scene isn't really dialogue, but I'm including it because I love Cass.

They moved on to far merrier subjects, but Cassian mulled it over throughout the evening. The fighting was only part of it. The Training would sustain her, funnel her rage, but there had to be more. There had to be joy. There had to be music. (emphasis added)

When Nesta breaks down at the end of the hike, we see that Cassian doesn't just love Nesta, but he likes her, he may even admire her.

"I don't know how to get there. I don't think I'm capable of it" // "You are. I've seen it -- I've seen what you can do when you are willing to fight for the people you love. Why not apply that same bravery and loyalty to yourself?"

"You don't need to become some impossible ideal. You don't need to become sweet and simpering. You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look - which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don't want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself."

"I'll be with you every step of the way... Just don't lock me out. You want to walk in silence for a week, I'm fine with that. So long as you talk to me at the end of it." (emphasis added)

When Cassian and Nesta go to the prison, there are some more telling moments:

"What if my presence would go unnoticed, but yours sets off a trap? We can't risk that." // His throat bobbed. "I can't risk you." // The words slammed into her heart. (emphasis added)

and later,

"I have always been your friend Nesta. Always"

When Nesta and Cassian return from the Prison:

Nesta brushed her fingers against Cassian's in silent understanding. His own curled against hers, meeting her stare as if to say, See? We're the same after all.

But when Rhys suggests having Nesta dance with Eris, Cassian is territorial to the max

"You're not going to use her."

"Over my dead fucking body," Cassian exploded.

"Nesta hasn't agreed to anything," Cassian snapped. "Even one dance with that prick is too much --"

"I don't like it."

He also agrees to go with her to the cottage in the human lands, and is so damn supportive and kind to her there. Action not words here but I love this himbo so much

Cassian stood beside her through all of it. Not speaking, not touching. Just there, should she need him. Her friend -- whom she'd asked to come her with her not because he was sharing her bed, but because she wanted him here. His steadiness and kindness and understanding.

And of course, the amazing and wonderful solstice scene:

"I'm sorry for how I behaved last Solstice. For how awful I was."// "I know. I forgave you a long time ago."

"Because I was fucking jealous!" He roared, wings splaying. "You looked like a queen, and it was painfully obvious you should be with a princeling like Eris and not a low born nothing like me! Because I couldn't stand the sight of it, right down to my gods-damned bones."(emphasis added)

"You're not going to marry Eris." "No" "There will be no one else. For either of us." "Yes" "Ever."

The big ole fight

"Say what I've guess from the moment we met. What I knew the first time I kissed you. What became unbreakable between us on Solstice night"

"I am your mate, for fuck's sake!" "You are my mate! Why are you still fighting it?

"You promised me forever on Solstice," he said, voice breaking. "Why is one word somehow throwing you off that?" (emphasis added)

And the conclusion that just wasn't satisfying enough:

"What do you want? // "You" // "You've had me from the moment you met me."

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

HER

I was rollin' around and in my mind it occurred. What if God was a HER?

Quick lil one-shot. Erik is onstage at a poetry night.

The words Urban Fever flashed neon above the familiar stage that Erik had seen countless nights through Open Mics and jazzy blues. Erik took the stage for the former, a first time poet created by the woes of heartbreak. He'd been through a lifetime in under a year.

A packed house sat before him as he adjusted the mic making it taller from the last poet who was 5'6 in her clunky platforms. Lights blinded him from the faces of the crowd and he squinted as the liquor in his system along with the vibe of the room made his mind run backward with reminiscing. His tongue was loose recounting his too brief time with.. Her.

"I swear I lost my train of thought when I passed her, fro godly like a pastor, skin like brown alabaster.

Astral choirs sing jagged edge cause shorty done walked right out of heaven a vision fulfledged."

NINE MONTHS BACK

"E, What you doing," Diamond's irritation cut into his sinful and lustful thoughts. For a minute he forgot he was in a relationship. He couldn't say he was in love but neither could most people. Diamond was down for him at least, he knew that for sure. "E!!"

"Hm?" His mind blanked so bad he missed the turn to take Diamond to work which meant he'd be late meeting his other bitch once he dropped her off. She sighed throwing her arms.

"Really E?" Diamond cut with a look that could kill. She was visibly sick of his shit but still there.. "You gone check this bitch out right in front of me when I'm in the car? Beside you?" She pushed the wheel causing the car to drift slightly into the left lane nearly hitting the car there before he righted it. "You that bold?"

He took a low look at her from the side of his eye as he kept driving. He'd passed the girl because Diamond made him gas the car so not to get hit.

"You trippin."

"Don't do that," she groaned. "Don't LIE. You want the bitch, go get the bitch." Impulsively she grabbed for the wheel again but he blocked her. "Let me out."

"You extra right now, chill out."

"Don't tell me to chill," she grit pushing the side of his head. He gave her another side eye as he contemplated pulling over.

"Just let me turn around.. Okay?"

She groaned as her head hit back on the headrest. "I don't know why I fuck with you, you ain't shit, never gonna be shit, make me feel like shit over your shit. It's just shit."

"So leave then Diamond! I don't need to hear that shit."

"I really should.. I'm not dumb, I know you cheating! I don't know why I stay with you when I know better."

"You know why."

Eight thick inches explained exactly why. He purposely missed the next turn hoping to find that girl walking again before she disappeared.

"I swear to-," she jumped suddenly, "LET ME OUT. I'M DONE, LET ME OUT!"

"Aye, chill. I'm a get you to work."

"NO. FUCK YOU," she pointed popping her door open before the car could make a full stop. He didn't stop and she either had to roll out or shut the door. She slammed it. She was finna be late as hell.. Meanwhile he was circling the area tryna go back to find that mystery woman he'd spotted before. Diamond wasn't dumb. She was shaking with anger, talking to herself.

The tall drink of hot chocolate with the god tier afro stood gracefully at the crosswalk looking like she'd flewn right out of heaven and into Stockton. Erik didn't know what the hell he was thinking.. he wasn't.. but he was damn near leaning on Diamond while steering the car closer to the sidewalk, rolling at a crawl to match this new woman's pace as his current sat fuming in the seat, shoving him off of her.

This new woman was divine. There were diamonds dusted in her skin like he'd never seen on a woman who wasn't on a TV screen. When she walked down the sidewalk, the world became chopped and screwed. That's how fixated he was. Not even Diamond slapping at him or shoving him could break his focus on that woman and her walk as he cruised beside her as though the surrounding traffic didn't exist.

"LET ME OUT," Diamond yelled smacking his face. She'd been trying the break the passenger door handle.. like he wouldn't make her pay for it. He finally stopped the car to let her noisy ass walk.

"Bye," he muttered pulling off to catch up with the fro'd up goddess.

"DON'T TALK TO HIM, HE'S TRASH," Diamond yelled from afar, her voice carrying faster than she could physically catch up. Erik wasn't bothered or embarrassed.

He had to think carefully of what to say. How could he impress this girl without her thinking he was a creep? Following her probably wasn't helping. Luckily she dropped something. It looked like money. Seizing his opportunity, he quickly parked in a no parking zone and dashed to snatch up what he discovered to be a twenty dollar bill.

"AYE.." he called ahead to no avail. He had to jog to catch up and when he reached her side, he noticed she had in earbuds. He waved for her attention and she fixed her eyes cautiously. Her almond eyes lined in jet black were just as black. She gritted on him hard. Even her disgusted face attracted him. She turned her nose up until she saw the twenty in his hand folded the same way the one in her pocket had been. He had her. "You dropped this.."

His hand smoothly ghosted hers as she took it. She felt like velvet to the touch.

"Thanks.."

She gave him a second look and he bit his lip as he met her eyes wondering how to make his next move.

"Ok.. so that's it?"

Her question caught him off guard.

"You do all that, follow me for damn near three blocks and now you've got nothing to say? That was anticlimactic."

Erik's jaw dropped slightly before he caught it.

"Wanna ride?"

She turned her nose up and he presented his key fob watching her deliberate on whether or not to trust him.

"Might as well.. before you get towed. Goofy ass," she mumbled with humor. There was something about her voice that was familiar and calming, the deep timbre. He rushed to retrieve the car. His face said it all as he opened the car door for her. It wasn't something he'd been in a habit of doing.

"Why thank you," she smirked.

"Of course... Why walk when you can be chauffeured," he commented when he was in.

"I like my woman black as the heart of an Aryan. Black as the back of a diabetic's neck. Black as coffee with no cream. My girl looks like 2 AM in a blackout."

Erik glanced wistfully to his memories ignorant to the soulful groans, snaps, and hums from the crowd. Of course his woman was no more, but he carried her still regardless..

Erik was stuck. He couldn't be away from his peace especially in the quiet moments when neither of them had anywhere they'd rather be than side by side doing whatever. Nail shop? He was in the pedicure massage chair right beside her with a drink and his feet up. Bank? They'd hit the BB&T and the SunTrust in one trip. They paid bills together.

"E, hand me my debit."

"You tryna pay it?"

"Yeah, I gotta pay today."

"I already did that."

"You paid mine?"

She seemed pleasantly shocked which was what Erik wanted.. to make her happy. Especially considering the pushback she got for their relationship. There were a lot of hating ass bitches.

"I heard you talked to Bianca.." He watched for any sign that she was omitting details to spare him. He didn't need to be spared. She took a deep breath and he knew without her speaking that some choice words had been exchanged. Afterall, he was playing Bianca with a whole girlfriend before leaving them both for this new flame. Bianca hadn't reacted well when she found out. "What she say," he inquired with faux calm. He had every intention of cussing out all his exes.. every one of them who had a problem with him moving on. It was the side effect of dating crazy bitches. They were too passionate. They couldn't just let shit rock, they had to harass him and his girl.

"I ain't worried about her, she can try me if she wants.. I'll knock her ass out that's for sure."

"Aight then," Erik smirked. He still planned to say something. "What she say though," he pressed.

"Same shit. She can't comment on anything but my skin because she knows I look better then her."

Erik was disappointed every time he thought of the fact that he'd unknowingly fucked a self hating colorist. He hadn't seen it before but now that he was serious about this new girl, true colors were showing.. and it wasn't just Bianca.

In a moment of fuck it after a sweaty quickie in the post office parking lot, Erik uploaded a chest-up pic of him and his cutie glowing from within with smiles white enough to rival the purest coke. She clung to him, laughing from the gut with crinkled eyes about something they'd both previously witnessed and he was grinning full force. That was the shot. Very pure. It'd brought him joy just looking at it, but others ain't feel what he felt and they had words about it. He cut off a childhood friend over a conversation where the guy'd said something casually insulting.

"How you ain't mean it when it came outta your mouth," Erik challenged. His friend was a damn coon.

Even worse was witnessing the treatment of her when it wasn't immediately clear they were together. She stood firm and held her own with class and dignity but it was work she didn't deserve to have to do. He couldn't be there for it all and even before he'd entered her life these problems were there.. but still..

"You know you perfect?" Erik asked this question at least once every other day to uplift his woman.

"Erik I need you to pick me up from work today," she said one day and when he asked why, she stated that her tire was flat. There was a nail in it. He sighed rubbing roughly through the fuzzy growout at the base of his locs. It had Evil Ex written all over it.

"I'll take take of it," he ensured. "I'll meet you for lunch too, wait for me."

His dedication knew no bounds. His loyalty had never before existed. His feelings for this woman were like nothing he'd ever felt.

Five months in.. he felt the same way. He'd never lived with a woman.. He'd never been faithful in his life, but then he'd never been in love.

Eight months.. she was still perfection through the good and bad and he'd do anything. He saw it all. The attitude, the dookie braids, the subtle insecurities, the slight messiness around the house, the flaws.. and all he could think of was that... he had his eye on a ring.. one with diamonds that matched the diamonds he saw in her soft rich deep brown skin.

"I'm casting all my game hoping she bite. Told her ass: You got that air that I like. Derriere sky high bite down I like to hit it from the bike. She say she love when daddy cum and fill it up just right."

The ring was still in Erik's pocket. It flipped absentmindedly through his fingers as he spoke. Unfortunately she'd never gotten it.

26 DAYS PRIOR

Erik gave backshots through the hour of 5 PM. Both he and his girl had arrived home around the same time and it was on sight.

"Hey.. Bae.. Get up and fix me something to eat," he whispered in her ear as she was laid out and half asleep. He was laid out as well with little energy after emptying himself of everything. He nudged her and she groaned but sat up.

"You can't fix it? I don't wanna move," she snickered.

"Pleaaaase," he begged watching her give in as she stretched. He smacked her ass as she rose. Then he rolled over and closed his eyes, hungry but ready to sleep. He inhaled her fresh scent left over on the pillow. It reminded him of oceans.

The doorbell rang.

He figured it was a package, something else she'd ordered. The closet was full. He drifted off.

When a half hour passed he opened his eyes and she still hadn't returned, she had to be cooking something. The thought hit him to surprise her in the kitchen by taking her as she cooked. It would be sexy..

When he walked out to the kitchen, he immediately entered a state of shock. Not only was she not cooking or coming back.. She had left a note that amounted to this:

Erik.. I'm leaving you for my ex.

Apparently her ex had showed which meant they'd been in contact... she even let him in.

Turned out he'd been a rebound all along.

"I should've known better..," Erik's head dropped in dark humor as his story came to a close. "When a goddess says her name is Karma that means misery. Better run if you got a history. I guess if she's God then God's testing me. Cuz she sure left with the best of me."

@soufcakmistress @itsiesha @ju5tp34chy @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @blackpantherimagines @blackpinup22 @muse-of-mbaku @goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @marvelmaree @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe   @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens   @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @purplehairgawdess @indigoxsummers   @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent-blog

[midnightsconspiracy]

Faith Restored

Faith Restored - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: When an argument with your husband causes you to walk out, a vendetta against him leads to you being kidnapped. But will Hank find you in time to be reunited with him and your child?

Warnings: Swearing, Violence

Word Count: 2670

Requested: Yes! I got these two requests so decided to combine them into one fic as they were pretty similar, so I hope the people that requested don't mind. :)

"hi!! I’m so happy I found someone that loves hank too. I’ll literally take any fic with him: age gap romance, marriage, having a baby, his enemies taking you and him tearing the city apart to get you back, some combination of all that, I’ll take it all. thank you for your writing!!"

"Hii! I love your fics 💖 could you please write something with hank, like he arguments with his girlfriend about their work, then she’s kidnapped and he gets all worried and asks for forgiveness, if you don’t feel comfortable with that it’s aaaaall goood :) xoxo"

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this fic and I have a few more requests to write so stayed tunes for them. But thank you for your support and keep sending requests in. Also if you've got some free time drop me a message, I'd love to hear from some of you guys!!!

Masterlist

Love. It was a feeling you had refused to believe in. Everyone around you telling you that the one was out there, and it was only a matter of time, but you were convinced that wasn’t true. At one point previously you had believed in it but that only led to a broken heart and weeks of uncontrollable crying, the man you thought was the one, cheating on you only days before your wedding. So how could it be true if the universe had let you suffer that badly? But as cliché as it sounds, that point of view changed completely as soon as you started your new job as a detective in the intelligence unit. From day one you had fallen head over heels for your boss, that hope of love finally returning. It had taken a long time for you to trust him and enter a fully committed relationship as that fear of heartbreak and the large age gap between you loomed over you both initially. Hank had been the best though, taking his time going step by step to make sure you were comfortable with everything, as well as keeping away the judgement from others the best that he could. He understood that feeling himself, still suffering the loss of Camille’s death, scared that you would leave him, but instead of being non-committal, it drove him to love you more, living each day like it was his last.

Now five years later, your relationship was pure bliss. Long gone were the days of doubts and distrust, instead replaced with only contentment and loyalty. Onlookers still judged the unconventional age difference but you had learned to live with it, coming to the conclusion that you loved Hank regardless and that was all that mattered. Only eight months into the relationship he decided that you really were the one for him, and a world in which he didn’t spend the rest of his life with you was one he couldn’t imagine, and so proposed inside his office, the place that started it all. You married shortly after at the courthouse, with only a small guest list, just wanting to be surrounded by your closest friends and family. The unit all in attendance, some crying, others wishing it were them getting married but collectively all ecstatic at the fact their favourite office romance was finally tying the knot. The next couple of months felt like absolute paradise, like you were in some sort of dream never to wake up again. Never a day went by where you didn’t feel the utmost joy and love in your heart, each day was a new adventure with the man that you could finally call your husband. You were on cloud nine thinking your life couldn’t get any better, until one day two pink lines stared back at you.

When you married Hank you didn’t expect to have any children, with him already having Justin and a grandson. This left you a little disheartened, but you would have married him under any conditions, even if that meant your dream of having kids would never come true. Whilst talking about your future together in the first few months of dating, the topic of kids had come up once or twice, with him stating he would love to have kids with you, but believing he couldn’t have any due to his age. But once you had told him you were pregnant, he was absolutely elated, even crying whilst confessing how much he loved and appreciated you. After a relatively difficult pregnancy with Hank being the most supportive, protective partner there could be, you gave birth to a gorgeous baby boy weighing in at 8 pounds, having his eye colour and your nose, a perfect combination of the both of you. For the first few years of your babies life, you spent your time staying at home looking after him, watching him grow up to look more and more like your husband each day. But finally, after his third birthday, you decided the unit was your calling and you wanted to rejoin your old team.

Things started off relatively normal, reuniting with the unit properly, finally becoming a team again. Adrenaline filled your veins once more, loving the thrill of arresting criminals and going on busts. The words ‘let's roll out’ sent sparks of serotonin throughout your body, loving being back after years of ‘calmness’ from child care. This new feeling caused you to get a little over-excited sometimes but nothing, in your opinion, that could be considered careless. However, if you asked Hank he would completely disagree. The man just wanted you to be safe at all times, not just for him but for your son as well. Things started heating up after a couple of weeks of you working there, him not wanting to address it initially as he knew you were so happy doing what you loved, but he was scared for your safety. He didn’t want a repeat of his last marriage, he adored you so much he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you were to get an injury or die. That was until one night, a bad day at the office caused him to snap, needing you to know how he felt about what you were doing.

Leaning against the counter in the kitchen at your shared home, you heard the door slam, knowing it was Hank, who had stayed behind in his office after a particularly nasty case.

“Hi Babe, did you get everything done that you wanted to?” You chirped, just happy that your husband was finally home.

“Y/N we need to talk,” you turned around to face him, your smile falling at his serious tone.

“Ok?”

“I understand you love being back in the unit but Y/N, we have a son now”

“What are you trying to say?” You replied, your tone turning sour, part of you knew what he was trying to say, but never in your mind did you think he would confront you about it. Why couldn’t he just be happy for you?

“I just think you’re being too reckless in the field,” he remained calm, just trying to get you to understand where he was coming from.

“Reckless? Are you fucking kidding me! I’ve spent three years looking after our kid and you can’t even allow me to have this?” You were furious by this point, you loved your job and had been away from it for a long time. Ok, maybe you were a little under cautious sometimes but not what he was suggesting!

“I'm just looking out for you, I can’t have you dying on me Y/N! You’re my wife for god’s sake I want you to be alive and safe!” He raised his voice, angry you couldn’t see what he was seeing.

“You know what fuck you, Hank!” You pushed past him, grabbing your keys and wallet on the way out, getting into your car to go anywhere but that house.

Driving around the city you were thinking of places to go, your parents, a hotel, another member of the units house? Finally deciding on Jay’s apartment you pulled into his buildings car park, checking your phone before going inside. Staring back at you were five missed calls and thirteen unread messages, all from the same person, the reason why you were outside someone else’s apartment and not your own home. Getting out of your car you walked towards the entrance of the apartment building, mulling over whether you should message Hank back. Deciding against it, you lowered your phone, not even wanting to think about it for the time being. Suddenly someone grabbed you by the waist, yanking you towards them, placing a foreign material over your mouth. You screamed, praying someone would hear your cries as you kicked your legs out and at the perpetrator as they dragged you backwards. More hands reached out to pull you into a car, sobbing you regretted what happened earlier, wishing you would have just stayed home. Finally, as your vision blurred, you hoped the unit would find you before it was too late.

Waking up in a cold room, you tried to pull your arm towards your chest, meeting resistance in the form of metal chains attached above your head. You groggily looked around, using your detective skills to assess the situation you were in, noting nothing in the cold, concrete room except yourself and a metal frame chair placed in front of you. Confused at the situation, you thought about what you had done, was it a person you had arrested? Or someone who had a vendetta against you? That you didn’t know, you couldn’t comprehend anything at the moment, your head pounding not allowing you to think clearly. You remembered being in the apartment complex’s car park after an argument but other than that everything was hazy. Thinking as hard as you could, your thoughts were interrupted as one of the offenders entered the room. He sat at the chair, sharpening his knife, a sadistic smirk played on his face.

“You know why you’re here?” Raking your brain you couldn’t think of anyone you had pissed off enough for them to go to these extremes.

“No,” you replied not wanting to antagonise him in any way.

“Your killer of a husband murdered my boy in broad daylight and no one, NO ONE, ever did anything about it!”

“That wasn’t me, please just let me go, you can talk it out with my husband in the proper ways!” You pleaded, knowing that him showing you his face didn’t bode well for your chances of survival.

“YOU SIGNED UP FOR THIS THE DAY YOU MARRIED THAT MURDERER!” He shouted out, punching you in the stomach, taking his anger out on you anyways possible.

“He’ll find us, and when he does he’ll kill you too,” you spat knowing that you couldn’t make anything worse. In response he threw a series of punches at your face, grabbing his knife holding it to your throat. Smirking he replied,

“You think he really cares about you?”

“WELL, WHERE IS SHE?” Hank was absolutely seething. Shouting at anyone who came to talk to him, both members of his unit and uniformed officers alike. He couldn’t lose her, besides his son, she was his whole life, not even wanting to picture a world where she wasn’t with him. He had to prepare for the worst, he knew that, but he couldn’t do it without a tear coming to his eye. Why her? Why couldn’t they just have taken him instead? He was who they wanted, not her, so why couldn't they just have fucking take him?! The team all sat watching, waiting, knowing it was only a matter of time before he would come out and demand answers, ones they didn’t have at the moment. They owed their boss, cashing in multiple favours with him throughout their time in intelligence, and they knew this was the only thing Voight would ever ask for in return. And Y/N, you had worked with them for years, not just being colleagues but developing a strong friendship that would last years to come, that’s if they could find you in time. Exiting his office, the unit turned to their boss as he spoke.

“I want everyone giving their all to this case, this is my wife we’re talking about, not just some faceless victim, Y/N, your friend, your colleague, and we are going to find her. No matter what it takes, am I clear?” Each detective replied with a ‘yes sarge' and getting to work, investigating every lead that they could. A couple of hours later the team had found the suspects, located pod footage from the time you were kidnapped and worked out a motive, everything seemed like was going well, except for the fact they still didn’t have a location. Another hour passed and still no location, Hank getting more and more agitated by the second, with his anger about to boil over, all with the push of a button, or a certain detective. Being the bearer of bad news, the team pushed Ruzek to play the devils advocate to tell the Sergeant they had come up empty.

“Hey Sarge, we’ve got nothing else, every lead we’ve got is coming up dry”

“NOTHING! YOU’VE GOT NOTHING? SHE COULD BE DEAD FOR ALL WE KNOW AND YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU’VE GOT NOTHING?” Hank boomed scared that his precious wife, who had done nothing to deserve this, could be being tortured or even worse dead.

“Hank, Hank” Olinsky stepped in, pushing his distraught friend back in his office, knowing Adam had done nothing wrong, instead just an outlet for his long term friends anger.

“It's ok, she’s gonna be fine” Alvin reassured him, knowing him exploding with emotions would do nothing to help his missing wife. Finally, an hour later, the team got a breakthrough courtesy of a CI of Dawson's, gearing up and rolling out as quickly as possible much to Hank’s delight.

Raising your head, you spat at the man in front of you, teasing him even more, threatening him to do his worst. He had beat you, cut you, degraded you, trying to get your spirit to break. Although you knew Hank would come to find you, you were starting to crack, the pain overwhelming to the point where you couldn’t cope anymore, a pain you wouldn’t wish on anyone. You were losing faith rapidly, expecting your unit to have already come by now, but where were they? Maybe they didn’t actually care about you? Lowering your head after a series of more beatings, you’d had enough.

“Please stop, please, I’ll do whatever you want, just please stop!” You cried finally giving into the man.

“I want you to pay for what your husband has done to my family, pay with your life,” he pulled a gun from the waistband of his trousers, pointing straight at the middle of your forehead. You had lived your life as much as you could, finding the love of your life, having a son and restoring your faith in the universe, well up until now. Closing your eyes you prepared yourself for the bullet, but when the loud shot came, it wasn’t from a gun but instead the door flying off its hinges.

“DROP THE WEAPON!” Someone shouted, someone that sounded weirdly familiar to your husband.

“DROP IT,” they repeated before you heard a clatter on the ground and a flurry of movement. Suddenly someone grabbed your face, nervously speaking your name. Opening your eyes, you looked up, staring straight into the eyes of your husband, smiling briefly before a cloud of darkness washed over you.

Waking up, the first thing you noticed with the constant beeping of a machine, then the warm feeling of a hand in yours. You slowly opened your eyes, blinking sluggishly adjusting to the harsh light, before focusing on the figure beside you.

“Hank?” You croaked, sounding like death itself but glad you were alive and facing your husband once more.

“Baby! Thank god you’re alive, you got me so worried there,” you smiled, thanking whatever god was out there for a second chance so you could spend the rest of your life with your husband and child.

“I-i missed you, Hank”

“I know Baby, I know I missed you too.”

“I’m sorry for walking out on you, why couldn’t I have just stayed there and listened to you? Talked it out properly”

“No don’t apologise, this was all my fault, you loved what you were doing and I was trying to take that away from you because of my own selfish wants.” You loved the man beside you unconditionally and although you were mad in the moment, this whole situation made you realise that nothing he could do could make you love him any less.

[dr3amofagame]

maybe you could talk about the dynamic between c!wilbur and c!tommy / c!tubbo? i think it's very interesting and i have conflicted feelings about them, i'd love to see your takes

c!wilbur my beloved ,, he’s such an interesting character and his relationship w/ c!tommy and c!tubbo is simultaneously so ,, twisted and heartbreaking. i think he really did care about them, to the end, but c!wilbur had always been characterized with his ,, love for lmanburg, to the point of obsession - think him in the revolution, saying “we would rather die,” him and his unfinished symphony in the button room on the sixteenth. in the end, it’s this obsession that really comes to destroy him,, but i feel like he still *cared* for tommy and tubbo, you know? tommy, canonically, saw wilbur as an older brother figure, and i feel like to some degree that feeling was reciprocated - not in the healthiest way, especially as c!wilbur became more manipulative, but that came from his untreated mental illness and growing paranoia and other things. i think that he saw himself as a sort of,, mentor figure, to both tommy and tubbo, and he hurt them, in the end, in very very deep and unjustified ways ,, but he still cared. it doesn’t make it right, or even better, but i think that w/ the way wilbur thought, he wasn’t necessarily trying to be cruel.

anyway, take this mutually assured destruction au (credit to @dreamsclock for the au) interaction of c!wilbur and c!tubbo!

tw: mentioned abuse, death, manipulation, toxic relationship, unhealthy thinking, mental illness, derealization (? wilbur thinks of everything as a twisted story), c!wilbur critical (not really? but just in case)

“Do you know what he did to Tommy?”

Wilbur turns, blinks, smiles; Tubbo is standing in front of him, spine straight, shoulders pulled back; there’s a fire in those eyes, highlighted by the starburst scar that stretches over his face. He wipes the gunpowder with a quick snap of his wrists, one-two, and cocks his head to the side. Amusement bubbles under his skin; now this is interesting.

“Tubbo! Can’t say I expected you here,” the kid is wearing netherite, but doesn’t move closer, keeping himself just out of reach of a sword. Smart, Wilbur shifts, stuffs his hands into his pockets, he’s learned.

“Wilbur,” Tubbo’s voice is firm, tired. Wilbur stays silent, prompting, something satisfied becoming a curling warmth in his chest; he’s always been perceptive, moreso than Tommy. Tommy lives, breathes a sort of unpolished sincerity, drawing attention, bleeding heart and loyalty and emotion so brilliantly and shouting so loudly that everyone has no choice but to listen - to contain him is no easier than to cage a flame. Wilbur knew this, even back in Pogtopia, let his and Dream’s passion and drive and bone-deep feeling burn each other out.

Tubbo sighs, lifts his chin; his eyes are cold. Something amused pulls at the corners of Wilbur’s lips; where Tommy is fire, Tubbo is ice, waiting, watching, letting Tommy charge into the fray while he hangs back and simply observes. He’d known, even then, that when push came to shove, Tubbo would be the one to get the job done, that he was the one that would smile serenely with an arsenal of weapons hidden up his sleeve, had looked into those ice-blue eyes and seen the same snake-in-the-grass determination that he recognized from every time he looked in the mirror.

“I know,” he says, finally, every word carefully measured, just smooth enough to edge on the side of sincerity. He doesn’t miss the way that Tubbo flinches, the tremble of his bottom lip, but turns away and pretends not to notice. “He told me, and even if he didn’t, I still have Casper the friendly ghost’s memories, as much as I don’t like them.”

“Then-” Tubbo’s voice cracks, goes quiet, and Wilbur watches from the corner of his eye as the kid purposefully untenses, hiding his shaking hands behind his shield. “Why are you helping him?”

Wilbur pauses; it’s not a question he didn’t expect, but the weight of it is- startling, even so. Something bubbles, hot and vicious, in his throat, almost tasting like anger, revenge, love. He remembers his hand placed, calming, on a too-tense shoulder, nestled in wind-blown hair, remembers star-bright eyes following him, hanging onto his every word like they had the power to coax the sun into the sky. Remembers, even in the hazy joy and grief that had been the world falling to pieces under his hand on the sixteenth, that spark of blue-tinged sorrow that had almost felt like regret burning cold and quiet in the middle of his chest.

“Have you read Shakespeare, Tubbo?”

Wilbur turns away, but it’s not early enough to miss the way Tubbo jolts at his question, a mumbled, incredulous “what?” falling from his lips.

“His tragedies, specifically,” he counts the TNT in his inventory, thumbing through the rows and rows of dynamite. “If you haven’t, they all follow the same basic formula - it’s how tragic heroes work, after all. It all boils down to one flaw - just one mistake, that sends the entire house of cards crumbling down.” Just one button pressed. Just one person that shouldn’t have been trusted. Just one life.

“I don’t- I don’t see how this is relevant, Wilbur.”

And here’s the thing; once upon a time, these boys - they had been his.

Not his, as in family, or his, as in followers, but some muddled mix of the two. They’d been his to guide, to some degree, his to keep out of trouble, his to teach about drugs and blackmail and propaganda and respect and leadership and honor. And- maybe he never should’ve been trusted with kids, maybe they shouldn’t have given a damned man this responsibility - scratch the maybe, they definitely shouldn’t have - but the universe didn’t operate on “should have”’s so he ended up with these brilliant, lost boys anyway.

And he fucked up, more than anyone, more than even Dream, because these boys had been his in a way they never were for Dream, but Wilbur has always been a selfish, selfish man. He chose his unfinished symphony first and he’d choose it again because that was the flaw in his foundation, the chip in his soul that would send him collapsing from the outside in every time, but that doesn’t mean he can’t try to guide the kid standing in front of him away from the path of self-destruction that Wilbur’s already too far down to come back from, that he and Tommy and Dream have been damned to.

“You’re a side character, Tubbo. You don’t matter,” Wilbur speaks, ignoring the hitch of breath that comes from behind him, “and this is a tragedy. Everyone that matters dies at the end of a tragedy.”

“Wilbur-”

“Cassio lives in Othello. Horatio lives in Hamlet. Dream, me, Tommy - we’re fucked. We’ve been fucked since the beginning of this story, since L’manburg. I signed our death warrant the moment I signed that declaration, Tubbo! We’re dead men walking. It’s only a question of how much we burn down before we burn out. But you?”

“You’re not like us, Tubbo. When the curtains close, when this story ends - somebody’s going to be left to pick up the pieces. You have people to live for now.”

“This- this isn’t a story, Wilbur.” Tubbo’s words tremble in the air, hang between them like a thread pulled taut - the thread frays, snaps, as Wilbur begins to walk away.

As he leaves, Wilbur remembers Dream, hair white in the moonlight, back when those eyes shone with something other than remembered pain - this isn’t a story - and hopes that Tubbo won’t learn the hard way, too.

[lowkeytesss]

God of My Heart

Pairing: Loki x Reader (gender-neutral)

Warnings: angst, goodbyes, very mildly suggestive I guess?

Word Count: 800

Summary: Saying goodbye to Loki is the hardest thing you've ever done.

A/N: This was inspired by a ficlet request with the line "God of my heart"... I have no idea how it ended up being so sad. I don't usually do angst without a happy ending, but it just... happened.

Also available on AO3.

“He’s going to take you away, isn’t he? Back to Asgard?”

You did your best to keep your words void of emotion, but just a hint of something bled through… something not quite sadness, not quite anger. It was simple resignation—acceptance of the inevitable—which somehow hurt Loki even deeper than the heartbreak he was expecting.

“We have a few more minutes yet,” Loki whispered against your cheek. “Let’s not spend this precious time talking about him.”

Thor wasn’t close enough yet for the streaks of lightning to be visible in the small window above your bed, but as the room flooded with flashes of distant white light, you knew it was only a matter of time.

Was this storm a threat or a warning? Maybe he was trying to do you a favor by giving you a chance to say your goodbyes. Either way, you hated him right now. You knew he had no more choice in the matter than Loki did, but you wouldn’t be forgiving him anytime soon.

The mattress creaked as Loki’s lean torso hovered over yours. His eyes lingered on the shadows along your face, committing those curves to memory in these last moments together for what could be a lifetime.

“When will I see you again?” You wished your voice hadn’t sounded so small just now.

“Hopefully soon, my love.” He wanted to give you hope, but he realized he owed you more than that. You deserved his honesty, no matter how painful it may be. “But…”

“But possibly never,” you formed the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“That is a possibility we should be prepared to face,” he admitted.

“What if…” your voice trailed off when you saw Loki shaking his head at you before you’d even completed the thought.

“Don’t say it, love.”

“We should try, Loki. There has to be somewhere we can go.”

“The only places we could escape to are lawless and far too dangerous for someone as precious as you. You’re safe here, and that’s what matters to me, even more than having you by my side.”

“I trust you. I know you’d protect me.”

“You don’t know that, darling. Neither of us can ever be sure of it, and I… I simply cannot lose you.”

You wanted to plead with him, but he gave you a look that told you he’d never be convinced—a look that begged you not to press the matter any further. The last thing you wanted was to start an argument minutes before he was gone for good.

Loki fingertips traced along the line of your collarbone and over the curve of your shoulder.

“It would be cruel of me to request any measure of loyalty from you while I’m away.” He paused briefly. “What I mean to say is, I couldn’t possibly ask you to wait for me.” For the first time since you’d known him, he couldn’t seem to meet your gaze.

“Is that your way of asking without asking?”

He breathed a wry laugh against your skin. “You always see right through me, don’t you, my darling?”

“I don’t know what the future holds, Loki, but I know for certain that I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.”

“Nor I." His voice was soft and broken, and you could have sworn you felt his hands trembling as he caressed you.

Loki watched you get dressed and smooth your hair, a quiet ritual he’d grown used to. When you were finished, you crawled back onto the bed and into his lap. You flinched at the next thunderclap, and felt anger surging in your chest. You’d always loved the sound of thunder and rain; it sounded like freedom and new beginnings. Now, for the rest of your life, it would instead remind you of this moment. It would sound like grief and goodbyes. You knew you would ever be able to enjoy those sounds again.

The next few minutes were spent in a soft, quiet kiss that may never have ended, if not for Thor’s shadow invading the space, blocking out what little light had been spilling in through the open bedroom door.

“Loki, it’s time.” Thor’s voice broke the silence as he searched for some small sign of forgiveness or understanding on your face. He found none. “I’m sorry, my friend. I hope one day you can find it within yourself to forgive me. This brings me no joy, but I must carry out my father’s commands.”

You couldn’t cry; you refused to let Thor see how broken you were. Your face was stone as you ignored the increasing ache behind your eyes, determined not to let the tears fall until after you watched the god of your heart disappear for eternity into the blinding luminescence of the Bifrost.

[hawkland]

(Mostly) Destiel Fic Recs #5

This is a LONG recs post because it’s been a while since I did an update and I fell hard into reading one author’s work (DeanRH). In fact I could easily do a rec post just of their fics alone, but for this round I’m just going to pick out a handful of my absolute favorites so far, the ones I’d recommend to start out with, along with more other authors’ works I’ve especially enjoyed lately.

Absolution at the Five-and-Dime by DeanRH (125k)  - this is perhaps THEE DeanRH fic to start with if you want a good, long read with a little bit of everything (Roadtrips! Intriguing casefic! Americana! Tasty Dean/Cas pining! Wing!kink and unique angel lore! Kinky soul fisting and tentacles!) It’s kind of two of parallel stories in one: the first, a flashback to Dean and Sam's first year hunting on their own (as well as trying to avoid hunting, and John in general); the second on how Dean and Cas finally get together during an unusual case and when Dean is able to really let go of his past trauma and accept himself/accept love from Cas. 

What I love about DeanRH’s work is that they write from the unique point of view of a drifter, so they understand living on the road, traveling place to place, and the highs and lows of that life like no others I’ve encountered in SPN before. (The author’s notes are often as much fun to read as the stories themselves). They also write a kickass angel!Cas and never lose sight of his non-human traits and background. Their writing style is unique - almost poetic in nature, and I know some readers have found it difficult to get into. But it works really well for me in their SPN fic...gives it the flavor of oral story telling as might actually happen at a drifter’s camp (with one story written exactly as such). Be warned this particular fic does play up the idea of John Winchester being mentally abusive and Dean having to turn tricks when he was younger in order to support him and Sam, so there is some dark stuff. But as someone who grew up with mentally abusive parent, reading this was extremely cathartic to me and believably written (unlike some stories that go too over the top with abusive John, or just don't understand how that kind of abuse leaves lifetime psychological scars.)

The rest of this round’s recs below the cut.

Carnevale by DeanRH (18k) - Actually the first fic by this author I read, because I just couldn’t resist a story set in my favorite place in the world, Venice, Italy. Castiel is the Angel of Venice, banished there for so long he does not even know or remember the reasons why. But Carnevale season is the one time a year he can let his wings out - figuratively and literally. And during this particular Carnevale season, he meets an intriguing masked young American tourist there with his brother and their one night stand turns into something far more powerful than either expected. This one’s hot, romantic, and achingly sad at the end as it all ties together unexpectedly with canon-verse...though with a hint for the future so it’s definitely not totally sad. I loved how DeanRH clearly understands Venice as a fellow lover of the city, the side of it most tourists never see unless they spend a long time there. This story made me cry just from wanting to be back in Venice again.

Ice cream was sweeter, food more satisfying, everything was an epicurean delight. There was just something magical about Venice, and he had lived here in the city for hundreds of years, so the shine should have worn off by now.

But it didn't, and there was always something more, something wonderful to discover around the next corner. The painted eaves of a church. The beauty of two women dancing with flowers in their teeth across the Piazza San Marco one day, overcome by the sheer joy of just being there. The way the university students still created Venetian masks, like Castiel's extravagant volto mask and Dean's humble servetta muta, with crafts that had been handed down across the generations. The morning silence that lay against the stones.

Hard Landing by DeanRH (26.9k) - A bit similar in theme to Carnevale. A pre-series Dean and Sam are sight-seeing in Spain when an angel, struck by a babel-spell, crash lands right in front of Dean. A strange yet seriously hot encounter with the angel turns into something much more complicated when the brothers return home and realize something more serious is afoot and they are both trapped in the middle of it. This is another story where things are very much not as they seem at first (as fun as that is!) It features master strategist Cas at his best, with a side helping of delightful trickery care of Gabriel and Balthazar as they deal with Lucifer, Michael...and a few others along the way.

The Sacred Band of Thebes by DeanRH (14.5k) - The last DeanRH fic I’m gonna allow myself to include in this round up, because it’s just very soft and sweet and beautiful - for a story about Dean & Cas being magically transported back in time to ancient Sparta! This is another story infused with a great knowledge of place and history, with some wonderfully delightful original characters added in that make it all the more enjoyable to read.

And now on to some other authors, I promise!

IPAMIS OL OLPRIT by emmbrancsxx0 (56k). A really wonderful fic that take a different look at what might have happened with a temporarily resurrected John Winchester during Season 14. Dean & Cas are in an established relationship here, and John here isn’t too happy about it — though mostly because he sees Cas (and Jack) as monsters, the kind of monsters he spent his lifetime hunting. This is a great fic for the emotional complexity of how John, Dean and Cas are all handled. John isn’t a cardboard evil dad, Dean is struggling between his loyalty to his father and to Cas, and Cas is increasingly bitchy/frustrated at Dean still being so desperate for his father’s approval (and all the more complex for not just being a quietly suffering perfect supporting boyfriend.) There’s some great action sequences in this too along with the emotional angst and a delicious dose of hurt!Cas if that’s your thing (as it is for me :D)

Abrenuntio by Neonbat (51k). A very dark but compelling AU take on the/a apocalypse universe. Dean, Sam and John are all alive in this post-angel war-apocalyptic world. They are part of a group of human survivors fighting against the angel army when they manage to capture “Blue” — a particularly feared angel of death. Dean is tasked with bringing Blue in for interrogation and he becomes a prisoner in their camp after John is killed. As mentioned, this is a pretty dark/sad fic (with some rather gruesome torture scenes) but I still found it quite compelling as a look at how things could have gone in some other parallel universe. And somehow the author manages to make the Dean/Cas relationship come together despite them starting out as complete enemies. This is one of those AUs that works for me because the core of the characters really shine through despite the differences in the setting.

if it all fell to pieces tomorrow by spocklee (37k) - a gorgeous post-Empty rescue fic that takes an approach I haven’t really seen explored in detail before (despite being something I’ve actually thought about as something that could’ve happened.) What if Cas has spent so long denying himself happiness, and then trapped in regrets and false-rescue scenarios created by the Empty, that he can’t trust that his rescue is real? And so he runs off to be on his own - literally stealing the Impala because he can’t handle being in Dean’s presence one moment longer - and only slowly comes to terms with the idea that it’s over now and he can be happy with/around his friends and family. This one’s both deliciously angsty and at times funny/sweet, looking at Cas’s relationships not just with Dean but with Sam, Jack, Claire, even Eileen. It does some fun stuff with other returned angels and demons who now find themselves back on Earth (and human), and...I just really enjoyed this one a lot.

Both Saved and Lost by angelfishofthelord (13.7k) Gen Cas character study, absolutely gorgeous and sad and one of those fic I couldn’t stop thinking about the day after reading it. AU where Apocaverse!Cas isn’t immediately killed by our Cas during 13x22 but instead hitches a ride back to the main ‘verse. Dean and Sam want to keep him alive for information on Michael; Cas is torn and trying to figure out just how similar—or different—they really are. Some great angel stuff here (I also highly recommend this author’s Jack & Cas “dadstiel” fics, they’re equally lovely and heartbreaking at the same time.)

flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k) - THEE “What exactly did Dean eat in Purgatory, anyway?” fic you’ve probably already heard about. *cough* I’ve been trying to work up the courage to read this one for a while and finally gave in and OH MY CHUCK I’m so glad I did. It’s perversely disturbing and beautiful at the same time, Cas is wonderfully DERANGED and ALIEN in that way that I love it when fics managed to convey just how much angels are NOT human. Do heed the tags.

Full of Grace by ilovehowyouletmefall (11k) - Another one for the weird-as-fuck-angel!Cas lovers’ list. Heaven/canon-compliant fic where Dean knows he should feel happy and at peace but he just...isn’t, even with Cas and all of his friends and family there. He finally goes looking for Cas when he’s been absent for a time and, for the first time, gets to not just see but experience his true form. Another one that hits some kinks I knew I had and others I didn’t...until now. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

don't ask me where i've been by saltwound / @1x06 (8k) - I can never resist a good 09x06 fiction gap fic! What makes this one really stand out is how well it captures Cas’s internal voice - his struggles adapting to human senses, limitations and emotions versus what/how he experienced things as an angel. The longing and feelings between Dean & Cas here are so achingly beautiful and I just wanted to cry when Cas says he misses hearing Dean’s prayers, so Dean, he...oh, I’m not going to spoil it. *happy sigh* Just read it.

this room is wrong by DarkHeartInTheSky (12k) - Sometimes I like torturing myself with some good 15x03 divorce arc angst and this fic hit that button just so. It’s an alternative take on where Cas might have ended up after leaving the bunker and features some great Cas & Sam friendship feels, when Sam sets out to try to bring Cas home. It’s all the stuff you’d wish the writers would’ve let them talk out in canon.

Well that’s more than enough for this round! Go forth, read and give some great writers some kudos & comment love!

[luninosity]

Catching up on @evanstanweek ficlets again! Here’s Day 3, prompt: on set.

Read at AO3 here - 2,336 words of on-set love confessions, set during The First Avenger - or read on tumblr below!

#

Sebastian’s watching Chris. He often is, can’t seem to help the track of his gaze—can’t pull away from the magnet-tug that’s Chris Evans’ loud laugh and gesturing hands and philosopher’s eyes, and if he’s honest he doesn’t want to. Right now the low hazy grey lighting of the broken bar sits on Chris’s shoulders and turns him into a grieving supersoldier: a man hollowed out by loss, left with a gaping hole right through his chest.

 Chris is so good. So brilliant at emotion, at getting character. So thoughtful and so generous with his feelings, the kind of bravery that holds nothing back. He is Steve Rogers, through and through: a hero, shining blue and gold.

 Sebastian’s not that brave. Not that brilliant. Good at angst and pain, or dry humor, or intensity, maybe; but he’s in character for it. He does love people and stories, and he thinks he’s funny, sometimes, and he thinks he might want to be a writer, sometimes, and he can shove an entire pizza slice in his mouth when he’s comfortable around friends, but.

 It takes him a while. Exhaling. Stepping out. Speaking up. He wouldn’t say he’s shy, because he isn’t, not once he knows people. He’s just…not Chris Evans, who wears joys and vulnerabilities openly, with pride, unafraid.

 Sebastian looks at Chris, and aches with emotion, and says nothing, every day and every minute on this film so far.

 He’s technically done for the day, though he’s not at all done on this film; he’s spent the morning running around with Howling Commandos and being a young and terrified sergeant thrown into war. They’d filmed Bucky’s fall from the train the day before; Sebastian had honestly loved it. The emotion’d been easy: love and loyalty, throwing himself in to fight alongside the other half of his heart, the moment of sheer shock, a small but gloriously physical drop onto thick mats. They’d let him do that one, because it wasn’t a long fall and they needed to see his face. He hoped it’d been good; everyone seemed pleased, at least.

 He shifts weight, wishes he had a pillar or a wall to lean on. He watches Chris some more.

 They’d caught the stunned disbelief on Chris’s—Steve’s—face at the fall, yesterday. Chris is so incredible at nuance, at blazing emotions, even in a few-seconds-long shot. Sebastian had said, after, “That felt really good, that last take?” and had meant, I think you’re a genius, I think I want to work right next to you forever, I think I love you.

 Chris had gotten kind of pink-cheeked because Chris is too damn self-deprecating, and had said, “Oh—um, thanks, man, you too, I mean it felt good to me too, I mean we’re fuckin’ awesome, obviously,” and had nudged Sebastian’s shoulder, somewhere between a punch and a quick resting of a hand. “Craft services? They got blueberry bagels, someone said.”

 Chris, bagel-focused, clearly had not heard Sebastian��s internal monologue. And if he had, wouldn’t reciprocate.

 Which is fine, of course. Chris never needs to know, and Sebastian’s ridiculous emotions will calm the hell down and go away. Any day now. Sometime. Soon.

 But he’s watching Chris, and Chris is pretending to try to get drunk, pain visibly shredding him inside; Chris is Steve and Steve can’t believe it and has to believe it and wants to scream, to shout, to punch a hole through the world—

 The scene’s fantastic, of course.

 They get it in maybe three takes, rapid-fire, Chris laying out his heart for the watchers. His voice cracks; it’s getting rougher, the third time.

 They do it a couple times more for different close-ups. Sebastian takes a step closer, between takes. His boots—he’s changed; they’re his own boots—are louder than he’d recalled that morning; Chris looks over at the sound.

 And maybe Chris looks surprised, or relieved, or grateful, for a split second; maybe it’s all in Sebastian’s head, though, because the next second they’re right back into it, capturing Steve’s heartbreak.

 It’s a wrap for the scene, eventually. And Chris is done for a few hours too, though he’ll need to stick around; he’s got some close-ups to do inside a mock airplane, being bounced around, for what’ll be the big final self-sacrifice. Sebastian loves the heroism and pain of it; he’s always loved good writing, and he’s got a good feeling about this script and about this universe, which he’s a tiny part of now.

 Chris doesn’t get up right away. Just scrubs both hands over his face, shoulders slumped. Hayley Atwell’s gone off to talk to the director; Joe’s nodding, listening to her. Nobody’s checking on Chris.

 And that’s wrong, that’s wrong and not good and not right—Chris has just been hurting, the way that Chris hurts for the world, and Chris should never be hurting, not while Sebastian’s alive—

 Sebastian’s legs move before his brain makes a conscious decision. He’s picking his way across artistic rubble and taking a few running steps and putting a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Hey.”

 Chris actually jumps a little, which isn’t the best start. “Oh! Uh, hey, hi, did you, um…have a question? About Steve and Bucky, or somethin’?” The Boston comes out extra-strong; it does that when Chris is feeling a lot, or tipsy, or simply exaggerating to make someone laugh.

 “No,” Sebastian says. “Or, well, yeah, we might want to talk about some of those flashback sequences, so we’re on the same page with emotion and all, but.” He licks his lips, realizes he’s doing it—a nervous habit, one he’s had for years—and stops. He can taste chapstick on his tongue. “I just. Wanted to. I don’t know. Are you…I mean, that looked like a lot.”

 “You…” Chris trails off. He’s looking at Sebastian’s face with astonishing intent; Sebastian would say even desperation, but that’d be ludicrous. Chris doesn’t have any reason to feel desperate about him.

 He tries, “I know you, um, like tea? Not coffee? We could go grab, um, tea. If you want.”

 “Tea,” Chris says, a little blankly. “But you like coffee.”

 Sebastian’s starting to get kind of worried, here. “I do, but you gave it up? We could maybe head back to your trailer, and you can, um, relax for a minute, and I can…try to make tea?”

 Chris stares at him some more.

 “Or not,” Sebastian throws in helplessly.

 “Yes,” Chris says. “Yes, yeah, yes—you—fuck. Okay. Jesus, Chris, get it together,” and he even shakes his head like a puppy flinging off water, and Sebastian kind of wants to grin and also scratch his tummy.

 Well. Maybe not scratch. He can think of better things to do with Chris’s stomach. Mostly involving his tongue.

 And he should absolutely not be thinking of that when Chris needs his help. He sticks out a hand. “To the end of the line? Or at least your trailer.”

 Chris looks at the hand, and then takes it, hauling himself up out of the chair. His fingers are large and strong and a little cold, and they squeeze Sebastian’s for just a little too long, as if wanting to hold on.

 No. Must be Sebastian’s heart thinking that. Wanting what he can’t have.

 He walks with Chris through behind-the-scenes set-ups and teardowns, props and people rushing to and fro, the corners of trailers and the shouts of movie-making going on. The sun’s warm, if light; the ground’s hard beneath his boots. He keeps stealing glances at Chris, who doesn’t seem too talkative. Sebastian’s poor overworked heart wants to take each sensation, each sight and taste and scent of this backstage moment, and fold them up safe deep inside.

 Chris is letting him help. That feels like sunshine.

 Chris’s trailer’s simple, unpretentious, unfussy; script copies and notes lie scattered around, and he’s got some weights, and some Disney-movie DVDs. Sebastian smiles, because that’s so very Chris: delight in the magic, always.

 Chris, still in costume, sits down on his sofa. He breathes out, and looks up. “Thanks.”

 “For what? How do I make tea with this?” He’s poking Chris’s electric kettle. He does sort of know how it works, in theory. His mother has an old-fashioned kettle; he’s got fancy coffee-making machinery; he should be able to combine all this knowledge. “Where is your tea?”

 “Seb,” Chris says. “I—hang on, does anyone actually call you Seb?”

 “Um. Not really? You can. I don’t mind.” He doesn’t. Chris uses last names often, an affectionate Boston-bro shorthand for friendship; Sebastian’s somehow always been Sebastian or Seb, in Chris’s voice. He’s wondered why, though he’s thought maybe Chris just doesn’t feel that close to him. Not deserving of the bro-status.

 “You don’t mind, or you don’t like it, and you’re being nice about it?”

 “I don’t mind,” Sebastian says, too quickly. “I like it.”

 “Sebastian,” Chris says.

 “Really,” Sebastian says. “Either. Whatever.”

 “Jesus,” Chris says, face back in his hands. “I’m sorry. I just…just tell me if I’m sayin’ something stupid, okay? Please.”

 “But you’re not!” Sebastian comes back over to the couch. That damn magnet again. Tugging his bones. “You’re not, it’s fine, we’re good, Chris. I swear. Really.”

 Chris doesn’t look up, so Sebastian drops to both knees, right there at Chris’s feet, and tries not to think of all the times he’s wanted to do exactly that. It’s easier not to think of it, right now, because he’s genuinely concerned.

 He peeks up at Chris’s face. “Hey. Kinda worried here. Not about you, I mean, about your kettle, it’s got all these buttons, it’s like a rocket ship, I’m afraid if I touch the wrong thing it’ll explode.”

 Chris snorts, almost a laugh, and then does look up. His eyes go right to Sebastian’s, so close and so blue; and then all at once he’s moving, leaning forward, one hand reaching out and cradling Sebastian’s head, and then—

 They’re kissing. Oh, god, they’re kissing, Sebastian on his knees in front of Chris and Chris bending down to claim him, hand in Sebastian’s hair—

 Chris kisses like reprieve, like the release of storms, like the dive into a heated pool on a chilly day: wholehearted, devoted, anxious to lick and taste and plunge into every part of Sebastian’s mouth. Sebastian, who’s been kissed before, has in fact never been kissed before, because no other kiss has ever been a kiss, compared to this.

 His knees dimly register the hardness of the trailer floor, and his neck’s at kind of an awkward angle, and Chris is still mostly in the Captain America suit. None of that matters. Nothing else matters at all, because Chris wants him and Sebastian’s whole self yearns for Chris, and Chris’s tongue and taste and tug at Sebastian’s hair are all white-hot gloriously perfect.

 Chris pulls back almost as abruptly. They’re both breathless; Chris whispers, “Oh, fuck…” and takes his hand out of Sebastian’s hair, but then touches Sebastian’s cheek, cups his face, as if unable to stop touching. “I…fuck…I didn’t…I’m so fucking sorry, I just…”

 “Why?”

 “What?”

 “Why’re you sorry?” Sebastian tips his head into Chris’s hand. “I’m not.”

 “You’re…not.”

 “Chris,” Sebastian says, and then runs out of words. He hopes Chris can see it, can read it, in his eyes. On his face. “Yes.”

 “Yeah?” Chris reaches out with the other hand too: framing Sebastian’s face now, tender and awestruck. “You mean that.”

 “I mean it,” Sebastian says. “But—”

 “Oh god,” Chris says, “I’ve fucked this up, haven’t I—”

 “No! No, just…are you okay? I mean, from earlier.” Somewhere amid the kissing his hands’ve ended up on Chris’s thighs; apparently they just want to be there, and now rub along Chris’s legs, soothing and caressing and learning all at once. “I mean, I wanted to—”

 “To help,” Chris groans. “You came over to help—because you’re the sweetest fucking person I know, god, you’re perfect, Seb, the nicest and the warmest and the best—and I fucking, Jesus, practically mauled you—”

 Sebastian cuts that anguished recrimination off by diving forward and getting his mouth back on Chris’s. After some in-depth affirmation, he breathes against Chris’s lips, “Don’t think you’re doing any mauling I don’t like.”

 Chris’s eyebrows go up.

 “Really,” Sebastian tells him.

 “Huh,” Chris says. “Huh. Okay. You—okay.”

 “No,” Sebastian says patiently. “Are you okay?”

 Chris stares at him, and then bursts out laughing. Mid-laughter, scoops Sebastian off the floor. Flops them both down across the sofa, holding on. “God, you’re incredible.”

 “The best, you said.”

 “And I mean it. You just make it all…feel better, kind of?” Chris strokes a hand down Sebastian’s back, over his t-shirt. “That’s what it was, earlier. Like…being Steve, losing Bucky, but that’s you, and all at once I was thinking about losing you, and I just felt like…like someone’d dropped me off a train, y’know? Like I’d never get up again.”

 “I’m here.” Sebastian wriggles against him. They fit together: bodies pressed close, every piece of them learning each other. He’s half atop Chris, but with one of Chris’s legs tangled through his. “I’m here.”

 “I know.” Chris rubs his back again. “And you were there, too. You were right there and I could look up and find you, and it was like I could remember how to breathe. And then you were here, asking about tea and looking at me like—and I just had to kiss you. I want to kiss you. Seb. Sebastian. God, I fuckin’ want—everything. I know it might get complicated, I know we’re in the middle of making a movie, but I can’t not want everything. Together. With you.”

 “Well,” Sebastian says, “good to know,” and stretches to kiss Chris again. It’s that simple, if not easy: the future’ll change, but it does that anyway, sprawling out in all sorts of directions. And he thinks it’ll be a good direction, with Chris at his side. “Because I want everything with you too.”

[the-blackholeus]

2k16!Shredder x Reader

Hey^^ Another Shredder X Reader because I love this dude. Have fun reading, as always please excuse any gramatical mistakes, and the female version is below.

(After Y/N has been discovered to be Shredder’s lover by his enemies, he began to get overprotective in fear of losing him/her. As s/he really got in trouble, however, he got to watch what this innocent being could do if s/he gets angry)

Male

“Saki! Stop it! I swear!”, Y/N growled as he swatted his boyfriend’s hand away, shooting him a glare that was powerful enough to kill someone. The older male chuckled softly and pulled him against him, pressing a kiss to his neck. “You are just too beautiful, my love, there is no way that I can restrain myself from touching you.”, Oroku Saki, also known as the Shredder, growled into his ears, and pressed another kiss to his cheek. The young man rolled his eyes and pushed him away, running his hand over his hair one last time before he put his jacket on, ready to go.

“You’ll have to restrain yourself if you don’t want to be arrested in the next few minutes, my powerful ninja.”, he huffed in a teasing voice, earning another chuckle and a nuzzle against his neck. “You know that those words only flatter me, my dear Y/N.”, he purred, laughing after he showed him the middle finger. “Idiot.”, he muttered as he went outside, his boyfriend following after him by climbing on the houses, always making sure that he was close, but out of people’s sight. Getting his phone, he called him so that they could talk on the streets without getting arrested. “Why do you even want to accompany me to my way to work?”, he sighed. “I know you’re worried about me, but I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t to risk it, my love.”, he grumbled and jumped over a gap between buildings, his figure not leaving his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.” The young man gave another sigh and thought back to the night where some of Shredder enemies found out that Y/N was Shredder’s lover, and since then, there had been assassinations attempts. One almost killed him, and he still remembered the evening the older male hugged him, almost in tears, telling him that he would never leave him out of his sight. Since then, he had become overprotective.

It was cute, but it wasn’t needed. What Shredder didn’t know was, that Y/N was a good fighter and able to defend himself better than anyone would think. He hadn’t mention it yet, and didn’t show it, but the longer his boyfriend talked about how he would be too weak to fight against trained assassins, the closer he got there. “You won’t.”, he softly said, hearing a soft chuckle on the other side. “But seriously, don’t you think that you’re overdoing it? Don’t you have a clan to take care of?” “Nothing is more important than you my love, and Karai can run my clan for a few hours until you get back. She did it while I was captured, remember?” Oh, yes, hedid, and he certainly remembered the kick he gave his balls when he got back and the hour scowling him for this naïve deal with an alien before kissing him into Oblivion.

“Yes, I do. But you’re their leader! I can take care of myself for a while, they need you. I love you Saki, and I appreciate your worry and your love, but I am not a toddler anymore. I might be younger than you and I didn’t survive a crazy warlord, but I have gone through some shit myself.” He heard a heavy sigh. “I know, but I am worried.”

“I know, but I have to end this call now. I’m there.” Surprised, Shredder searched his  figure and saw him standing in front of the building that he worked in. He waved at him, a small smile on his scared face before he watched him enter the building, making sure no one was coming too close to you that seemed dangerous.

---

Y/N sighed happily as he finally could pack his bags and walk home. He waved his co-workers goodbye, and walked straight to the door, taking a deep breath, when finally, the cold night air hit his face. He looked around and blinked softly, not finding his boyfriend anywhere. Even though he loved him, he enjoyed the time where he could walk alone.

The young man checked time on his phone as he walked down the street, waving at an old woman who also was on her way home. He turned around the corner, smiling as his house came into sight, but that faded when two men and a woman walked straight up to him, all of them a grin on their face. He stopped, waiting until they were in front of them. “Hello, buddy.”, the woman spoke, clearly the leader of the group. “Hey.”, the young man skeptically said and lifted his eyebrows. “I see that you’re here. All alone.”, she teased and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Why is that?” “I’m simply on my way home, and I would like to continue to walk.”, he said and tried to get through them, but the biggest man pushed him back, taking a step forward. “Oh, you already want to leave us? But we haven’t emptied your pockets yet.”, she laughed and pulled a gun out of her jacket.

Y/N took a step back, clearly shocked by her actions. “What are you doing?”, he hissed, anger coming into his voice. “Are you insane!?” “No, but we need money. Get him boys.”, she ordered, and expected him to be down on the floor within a minute…that, however, did not happen.

As the smaller man lifted his fist and tried to punch him, he simply caught his fist in his hands, he tried it with the other, and he caught it again. The younger man twisted his hand, making him cry out in pain before kicking into his crotch, throwing him over his shoulders before attacking the other one, punching him in the face. A sickening crack was heard, and the other cried out in pain as he held his nose, that was surely broken now. Wasting no time, he grabbed the gun from the woman, ripping it from her grasp before smashing it against her head, sending her directly into unconsciousness. The other males were still on the floor, shivering, shocked that one man defeated them. “Could you please fuck off now?”, he wheezed, his eyes blazing with anger. Before they could get away however, he shot them in the legs and turned around, taking the gun with him, listening to their cries.

He did, however, not see the male that stood there and watched the whole scenario with his eyes. Y/N ran into him, growling as he shook his head, ready to yell at him to let out his anger…which immediately disappeared once he recognized the man who stared at him like he was a demon that really could be summoned. “Oh, hey Saki.”, he grinned awkwardly, and hit the gun behind his back. The feared male blinked a few times, looking down/up to him before he found his voice and managed to speak. “You…can fight?”, he asked, receiving an embarrassed nod.

“I…yeah.”, he whispered awkwardly, and pushed him to continue their ways as the cries of the man echoed behind them. “I can.” “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have been much less worried than I had been the last few weeks!”, he growled, his hands balling into fists, clearly angered at him

“No, love, you wouldn’t have been less worried.”, the younger male sighed and shook his head, before crossing his arms in front of his chest and let a deep, sad sigh escape his lips. “And, I…I didn’t want to tell you because I don’t want you to see me differently than I really am. You always told me that I was such a gentle person, a sweet soul in the middle of a sea of sour hate and disappointment. I…I didn’t want to ruin that imagine by showing you what I really can do…I didn’t want to repulse you…”

A few seconds passed, Shredder started to shake, and the younger male thought that he would explode with anger…but out of all sudden, deep, rumbling laughter echoed through the streets. He threw his head back, and completely lost control over himself. Almost crushing his lover against his chest, he gave him a deep kiss before snuggling into him, still shaking with violent chuckles. “Y-You are an idiot! You’re such a-an imbecile!”, he roared as another fit of laughter hit him. This continued until tears ran down his scared face, and he had trouble breathing.

“I would never change my opinion about you. Even if you can kick ass, you are still a sweet soul in the middle of a sea of sour hate and disappointment, you’re still a beautiful star at the piece of the sky that fell victim to a black hole, you’re still my beautiful and gentle love! This does not change one thing. I don’t care if you can fight or not. I have not fallen in love with your skills or looks, I have fallen in love with you, your personality, your voice, the way you greet me every time we see each other, your loyalty, the way you loose your cool if someone insults me or my or your family, and your nerves of steel if I overdo it again.” He leaned down and gave him another kiss on his lips. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything in the world…even than the thought of killing the turtles.”

A chocked laugh escaped his lips, and in that moment, Shredder realized that he cried. But it was not a frustrated crying or one of heartbreak…it was one of utter joy. “You’re an idiot.”, Y/N sobbed and kissed him again, making sure to win dominance. The older male let him do as he pleased, happy that this issue was finally out of the way. His lover wiped the tears out of his eyes and searched for the keys to his house before walking inside, preparing to have a wonderful evening, but before he put the popcorn in the microwave, he asked one last question.

“Saki, now that you know that I can fight, does this mean that you will stop worrying so much and that I can finally walk my way to work and home alone?” Shredder lifted his head to stare at him, a smug grin on his face, before shaking his head, giving him an answer that made his blood boil with anger and annoyance.

“No, my love, certainly not.”

Female

“Saki! Stop it! I swear!”, Y/N growled as she swatted her boyfriend’s hand away, shooting him a glare that was powerful enough to kill someone. The older male chuckled softly and pulled her against him, pressing a kiss to her neck. “You are just too beautiful, my love, there is no way that I can restrain myself from touching you.”, Oroku Saki, also known as the Shredder, growled into her ears, and pressed another kiss to her cheek. The young woman rolled her eyes and pushed him away, running her hand over her hair one last time before she put her jacket on, ready to go.

“You’ll have to restrain yourself if you don’t want to be arrested in the next few minutes, my powerful ninja.”, she huffed in a teasing voice, earning another chuckle and a nuzzle against her neck. “You know that those words only flatter me, my dear Y/N.”, he purred, laughing after she showed him the middle finger. “Idiot.”, she muttered as she went outside, her boyfriend following after her by climbing on the houses, always making sure that he was close, but out of people’s sight. Getting her phone, he called her so that they could talk on the streets without getting arrested. “Why do you even want to accompany me to my way to work?”, she sighed. “I know you’re worried about me, but I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t to risk it, my love.”, he grumbled and jumped over a gap between buildings, her figure not leaving his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.” The young woman gave another sigh and thought back to the night where some of Shredder enemies found out that Y/N was Shredder’s lover, and since then, there had been assassinations attempts. One almost killed her, and she still remembered the evening the older male hugged her, almost in tears, telling her that he would never leave her out of his sight. Since then, he had become overprotective.

It was cute, but it wasn’t needed. What Shredder didn’t know was, that Y/N was a good fighter and able to defend herself better than anyone would think. She hadn’t mention it yet, and didn’t show it, but the longer her boyfriend talked about how she would be too weak to fight against trained assassins, the closer she got there. “You won’t.”, she softly said, hearing a soft chuckle on the other side. “But seriously, don’t you think that you’re overdoing it? Don’t you have a clan to take care of?” “Nothing is more important than you my love, and Karai can run my clan for a few hours until you get back. She did it while I was captured, remember?” Oh, yes, she did, and she certainly remembered the kick she gave his balls when he got back and the hour scowling him for this naïve deal with an alien before kissing him into Oblivion.

“Yes, I do. But you’re their leader! I can take care of myself for a while, they need you. I love you Saki, and I appreciate your worry and your love, but I am not a toddler anymore. I might be younger than you and I didn’t survive a crazy warlord, but I have gone through some shit myself.” She heard a heavy sigh. “I know, but I am worried.”

“I know, but I have to end this call now. I’m there.” Surprised, Shredder searched her  figure and saw her standing in front of the building that she worked in. He waved at her, a small smile on his scared face before he watched her enter the building, making sure no one was coming too close to her that seemed dangerous.

---

Y/N sighed happily as she finally could pack her bags and walk home. She waved her co-workers goodbye, and walked straight to the door, taking a deep breath, when finally, the cold night air hit her face. She looked around and blinked softly, not finding her boyfriend anywhere. Even though she loved him, she enjoyed the time where she could walk alone.

The young woman checked time on her phone as she walked down the street, waving at an old woman who also was on her way home. She turned around the corner, smiling as her house came into sight, but that faded when two men and a woman walked straight up to her, all of them a grin on their face. She stopped, waiting until they were in front of her. “Hello, girly.”, the woman spoke, clearly the leader of the group. “Hey.”, the young woman skeptically said and lifted her eyebrows. “I see that you’re here. All alone.”, she teased and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Why is that?” “I’m simply on my way home, and I would like to continue to walk.”, she said and tried to get through them, but the biggest man pushed her back, taking a step forward. “Oh, you already want to leave us? But we haven’t emptied your pockets yet.”, she laughed and pulled a gun out of her jacket.

Y/N took a step back, clearly shocked by her actions. “What are you doing?”, she hissed, anger coming into her voice. “Are you insane!?” “No, but we need money. Get her boys.”, she ordered, and expected her to be down on the floor within a minute…that, however, did not happen.

As the smaller man lifted his fist and tried to punch her, she simply caught his fist in her hands, he tried it with the other, and she caught it again. The younger woman twisted his hand, making him cry out in pain before kicking into his crotch, throwing him over her shoulders before attacking the other one, punching him in the face. A sickening crack was heard, and the other cried out in pain as he held his nose, that was surely broken now. Wasting no time, she grabbed the gun from the woman, ripping it from her grasp before smashing it against her head, sending her directly into unconsciousness. The other males were still on the floor, shivering, shocked that one woman defeated them. “Could you please fuck off now?”, she wheezed, her eyes blazing with anger. Before they could get away however, she shot them in the legs and turned around, taking the gun with her, listening to their cries.

She did, however, not see the male that stood there and watched the whole scenario with his eyes. Y/N ran into him, growling as she shook his head, ready to yell at him to let out her anger…which immediately disappeared once she recognized the man who stared at her like she was a demon that really could be summoned. “Oh, hey Saki.”, she grinned awkwardly, and hit the gun behind her back. The feared male blinked a few times, looking down/up to her before he found his voice and managed to speak. “You…can fight?”, he asked, receiving an embarrassed nod.

“I…yeah.”, she whispered awkwardly, and pushed him to continue their ways as the cries of the men echoed behind them. “I can.” “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have been much less worried than I had been the last few weeks!”, he growled, his hands balling into fists, clearly angered at her.

“No, love, you wouldn’t have been less worried.”, the younger female sighed and shook her head, before crossing her arms in front of her chest and letting a deep, sad sigh escape her lips. “And, I…I didn’t want to tell you because I don’t want you to see me differently than I really am. You always told me that I was such a gentle person, a sweet soul in the middle of a sea of sour hate and disappointment. I…I didn’t want to ruin that imagine by showing you what I really can do…I didn’t want to repulse you…”

A few seconds passed, Shredder started to shake, and the younger female thought that he would explode with anger…but out of all sudden, deep, rumbling laughter echoed through the streets. He threw his head back, and completely lost control over himself. Almost crushing his lover against his chest, he gave her a deep kiss before snuggling into her, still shaking with violent chuckles. “Y-You are an idiot! You’re such a-an imbecile!”, he roared as another fit of laughter hit him. This continued until tears ran down his scared face, and he had trouble breathing.

“I would never change my opinion about you. Even if you can kick ass, you are still a sweet soul in the middle of a sea of sour hate and disappointment, you’re still a beautiful star at the piece of the sky that fell victim to a black hole, you’re still my beautiful and gentle love! This does not change one thing. I don’t care if you can fight or not. I have not fallen in love with your skills or looks, I have fallen in love with you, your personality, your voice, the way you greet me every time we see each other, your loyalty, the way you loose your cool if someone insults me or my or your family, and your nerves of steel if I overdo it again.” He leaned down and gave her another kiss on her lips. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything in the world…even than the thought of killing the turtles.”

A chocked laugh escaped her lips, and in that moment, Shredder realized that she cried. But it was not a frustrated crying or one of heartbreak…it was one of utter joy. “You’re an idiot.”, Y/N sobbed and kissed him again, making sure to win dominance. The older male let her do as he pleased, happy that this issue was finally out of the way. His lover wiped the tears out of her eyes and searched for the keys to her house before walking inside, preparing to have a wonderful evening, but before she put the popcorn in the microwave, she asked one last question.

“Saki, now that you know that I can fight, does this mean that you will stop worrying so much and that I can finally walk my way to work and home alone?” Shredder lifted his head to stare at her, a smug grin on his face, before shaking his head, giving her an answer that made her blood boil with anger and annoyance.

“No, my love, certainly not.”

[stetervault]

Hey, love the blog!!! I was wondering if you had any fics where Talia is terrible to Peter and/or Stiles? I know that's a lot of fics so maybe ones where it's a notable plot point? Thanks!

Here are some I know, with various levels of bad alpha/sister/all-around person!Talia (some have her redeemable, others not so much):

IBDC: Teen Wolf by moonstalker24 --> Pretend to be dating AU Part 1 & Part 2

Peter pretends to be Stiles' boyfriend, which quickly evolves into being his actual boyfriend.

The Sphinx of Beacon Hills by Guede (Stetopher)

Stiles is a sphinx, and he’s winging his way to visit his buddy Scott when a storm drops him in Beacon Hills, the craziest, crankiest, coldest place ever. And somehow, he ends up with a bunch of werewolves.

The Other Husband by Therapeutic_Steter

Tumblr Prompt: You start working with your spouse and everyone thinks you're cheating because they don't know that's your spouse.

Home by Ragga

Don't be like him, they would say, and then add, or else you get burned.

Unable to bear the whispers any longer, This One left. He forsook those who forsook him, left him bear his scars alone, the scars he bore for his herd. It was better to be alone, stay off the currents, than swim with those most undeserving of his loyalty. So mote it be.

That is, until he met That One.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

God Only Knows by katiemorag

Peter still couldn't quite believe he was being made to attend his niece's wedding, reason number one being that her fiancé was Peter's ex, who had cheated on Peter with Laura.

There's also the slight issue of his entire family refusing to believe that his boyfriend, Stiles, actually exists.

You Are so Much Better Than I Ever Knew Before by lavenderlotion

“Oh sweetheart,” Kate cooed, voice sickly sweet and obviously fake. “You didn’t think you were dating...did you?”

Stiles just stood there, still in shock and only coherent enough to shrug his shoulders. “Oh sweetie, that is just too cute. No, Der-Bear here just needed something to keep his cock warm while I was away visiting family.”

what the dust reveals by WindyRein

That one where Stiles and Peter are soulmates and there's spy-assassins and wings and other stuff.

You Just Got Ghosted! by Ragga

“What’s your name, angel?” little Stiles murmured even as his eyes fell closed, quickly losing his battle against sleep.

Stiles smiled. It was a little sad but also heavy with the knowledge that what he was doing was the right thing—heavy with the knowledge he didn’t deserve the moniker bestowed upon him.

“You can call me Mietek.”

Or the one where there's time travel, feels abound, two Stiles in one timeline, and one of them stuck somewhere between the planes of existence. Yet a ghost can still manage to save the day and get the girl. Or the wolf. Manly wolf. Because Peter.

Toothed Morality (Send Me Flowers) by rightsidethru

“The world is a dark place, moje kochanie; it is one filled with monsters, always ready to gobble you whole. Be wary of the promises they give: seal every vow with blood and bone and Name. A True Name, one that will bind them to their word.”

“But how will I know that they’re telling the truth, Matka? Couldn’t they lie…?”

“You’ll know, mały płomień.”

Send Newts by Bunnywest

The first thing Peter notices is that Talia’s smiling, and that in itself makes him suspicious. When he sees that Laura’s smiling too, his distrust intensifies. “What?” he demands? “What is it?” Talia’s smile widens as she serves him a cup of tea, made just how he likes it. “Just wondering if your new husband knows you’re such a curmudgeon in the mornings,” she says sweetly. Peter’s cup clatters against the table and the tea spreads in a puddle, ignored. “My what?” “New husband,” Laura chimes in, and then she’s wrapping her arms around Peter’s neck, and saying, “Thank you, Uncle Peter,” and hugging him tight, and the memory of last night tugs at him again. What happened again, exactly?

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

The Devil You Know by Triangulum

Hell is busy and Peter is understaffed. There are too many evil people being sent down below and there are only so many demons Peter has to torture them with. He needs to reorganize. They don't utilize group torture nearly as much as they should. Stiles probably has some ideas on that.

Or

Peter is King of Hell, Stiles is his second in command, and Talia summons them for a favor.

Call Me Mary Poppins by Triangulum (Stetopher)

Chris pinches the bridge of his nose and says, "You're telling me you want to fuck the nanny?"

"Don't be ridiculous, it's nothing as stereotypical as that, Christopher. This isn't porn. I want to seduce her," Peter says.

Or

A Stetopher nanny AU that wasn't really asked for.

Follow My Lead by Inell (Peter/Laura/Cora/Derek/Stiles)

Peter can’t quite figure out what’s so appealing about the young agent questioning them about his sister’s murder, but he does know that Agent Stilinski is more than he seems.

The Perceptions of You and I by lavenderlotion

“Baby, why did your secretary ask me if I was here under duress?”

Peter looks at him, blinks slowly, and then tilts his head to the side before asking, “She what?”

“She asked if you were forcing me to be here,” Stiles says, eyes flicking across the room to where said assistant is standing at the punch bowl. “She wanted to know if you were blackmailing me or threatening me.”

“She thinks you’re here under duress because Peter is such a terrifying bastard there’s no way a human Omega would be with him otherwise.”

Rent-a-Date by RebaK1tten

If Peter has to spend Christmas with his family, he's going to have a buffer. Even if he has to get him off a website.

Pissing Off The Straights by Therapeutic_Steter

platypusesrneat asked: Peter's family is alive, rich, and complete assholes. Peter can't stand them and is trying to get out of going to their stupid party. Cue Stiles saving the day!

Prayers to a Lesser God by Green

When the Hales are trapped in a house fire, Peter prays to every deity he's ever read about. Miraculously, one answers his call.

this (let's remember) by sinequanon

Peter has always done his pack's dirty work, but it's not until his sister locks him away in Eichen House that he realizes that he has other priorities.

OR

A Romeo and Juliet type story featuring less suicide and more murder.

Don't Come For His Family by lavenderlotion

In the three years Stiles had been with Peter, the man had only talked about his family a handful of times - and as far as Stiles knew had never once spoken to them. So he wasn’t exactly excited to see the mans family, even though that’s exactly what they were about to do.

It does not go to plan.

Beautiful Like Birds by Whispering_Sumire

"Stiles?" he asks, turning on the light, and Stiles looks at him- eyes wide, a flicker of utter devotion and heartbreaking joy passing his features before his whole face crumples and-

"Daddy?"

John has never seen his son like this, or maybe he has, when Claudia died, but it's different somehow, more, and terrifying because he has no idea why. He's closed half the distance between them before he even has time to think it through, but it doesn't matter because Stiles has bridged the rest and flung himself into John's arms.

He falls apart like that, holding onto John so tightly that it's hard to breathe, but he can't care about that right now because his son is sobbing and chanting "Daddy," desperately into his shoulder.

[Or, the one where Stiles goes back in time to save the world, and surprisingly, survives to tell the tale.]

We Three Can Rule The World by Whispering_Sumire (Steterek)

"Hello," he says softly, setting his fiddle down in his lap, not bothering to stand.

"Hi," Derek replies, half-gruff, then, because he should, "that was- that was beautiful but... you know this is private property, right?"

The boy throws his head back and laughs, and laughs, and laughs. The sound of it is overwhelming in its childish joy, and his eyes positively sparkle when they land on Derek again.

"Yes," he says, unashamed "I knew." Then he's standing, fiddle and bow in one hand, the other stretched out toward Derek, friendly and welcoming, "My name is Stiles."

[Or: The one where there's a fiddler, and two werewolves whose eyes flash blue, and a whole fucking world to conquer.]

The Alpha Thief by Triangulum

Something changes around the time Peter turns thirty. His wolf becomes malcontent and angry. His control, impeccable since he was a child, starts to slip, that inner rage leaking out. Talia's iron clad control over the pack chafes him. He can't explain why, but it feels like his world shifts. Pack members he's grown up with suddenly leave with barely an explanation, without a goodbye. His parents' deaths, something that occurred over five years ago, suddenly feel raw, everything after their passing he remembers feeling stilted and wrong.

Or

What if Malia's existence wasn't the memory Talia took from Peter? And what if memories weren't the only thing she stole?

[disasterbialert]

So, I finished The Untamed and ok ok I think I have collected most of my thoughts about it. (I’m late, so I guess these thoughts don’t really matter, but I wanted to put them somewhere and here seemed like the place.) SO here’s a post absolutely NO ONE WANTS and imma do it anyway cool cool.

Firstly: love. This entire show is about love. Obviously other things too ok I’m simplifying for the sake of my point. But importantly it is about love. The love for our families, found, made and blood. The love of soulmates, romantic and platonic. The love of humanity, of the people known and unknown, love for them purely because they are human and are therefore deserving of love. The love inherent in honour and duty, the sacrifices made for that love. Loving someone—bravely, in the face of every adversity, despite being told it’s wrong. Learning to be true to that love, learning to love faithfully, learning to love, to show love, to be loved.

Bless the tireless translators. Y’all. The work you do is often thankless but y’all are so valued. Thank you.

The music. I actually don’t have the words for this, I can only thank the composers and musicians for the gifts they have blessed us with. My heart my heart my heart.

The costumes, set, props and cinematography are all so exquisite. I’m not an expert in any of these fields but I can see the care and detail paid to each facet of this show. What an absolute visual joy. Stunning.

And now, the characters.

I’ll start with the ladies. They deserved so much more. We deserved to have more than just one by the end, but I understand this wasn’t their story (still hurts tho).

Jiang Yanli. Proof that kindness is powerful. Her heart holds entire worlds. She is not weak (don’t even try me I swear to the gods). She holds her family together. She takes care of her siblings. She feeds their bodies and their souls. WWX is right—JZX does not deserve her but that’s because nobody does. But Jiang Yanli deserves to be happy, therefore her marriage to the Flower Peacock is valid purely bc it makes her happy. She stands up for what’s right, she will not compromise her morals, she will defend her family to her last breath (and so she does💔). She does not harden herself, she does not have to. Her patience and kindness, her softness, her gentleness—things that are seen as weaknesses or inferiorities—are what put her above all around her. She is gracious, she is strong, she is loving, she is determined, she is brave. She deserved better.

Wen Qing. A queen. A powerhouse. The most brilliant mind. A lightning-quick and sharp-bladed tongue. She loves Wen Ning so much and her love is powerful, just as Jiang Yanli’s. Her dedication and devotion to her people, her true family, not just a name, is incredible, inspiring. Why? Because she’s not perfect. So she learns. She grows. She becomes herself. When she’s at the Burial Mounds, she essentially adopts WWX as another younger brother, caring for him because she knows he won’t care for himself, and she does so out of love and respect. But she never replaces Jiang Yanli. She is keenly aware of all she perceives WWX loses because he aids them. Hence the pivotal, crucial: I’m sorry and thank you. She walks to what she knows is her own death with her head held high and her hand in her brother’s, offering love and support and what protection she can to the end. She does not flinch. She does not bow. She fights with all of her and surrenders with grace not reflected by those she surrenders to. Honestly I could write an entire thesis on Wen Qing but I’ll cry too hard so I’ll just leave it here that she deserved better, she deserved to live, she deserved to be free.

Mian Mian. Mian motherfucking Mian. Here is a woman who stares injustice full in the face and says no fucking way, says over my dead body, says you and what army old man. Strips the robes of the hypocritical off her own damn body, throws them at the feet of a false god and walks out, back straight, head held high. She makes her own way in the world, carves out her own life, finds love and happiness and lives. She does not compromise. She does not bow. She fights and she wins and she is glorious. And she lives she lives she lives.

Yu ZiYuan. I may be in the minority here but that’s ok. No I don’t approve of her abuse, just gonna nip that one in the bud right out of the gate. Was she fair? No. Was she cruel? Yes. Was she an incredible fighter who fought for her family, for her home? Who showed raw courage and furious strength in the face of insurmountable odds? Who loved a man with her whole bitter heart, loved her children with that same fractured heart? Was clearly the subject of spiteful rumour and vicious gossip and did not let it defeat her? Refused to bow to anyone? I do not like her, do not like how her bitterness made her cruel. But seeing her wield her blade, take wound after wound, witness the death of her love, then take her own blade and rob the monsters invading her home of the satisfaction of taking her life, took her own life with her own hands because that’s how she did everything in her life so why the fuck wouldn’t she do it in death too, who crawled her way to the man she loved, laced their fingers together so he wouldn’t die alone, so they could both die held? How can I not respect her.

Ok. The lads.

Jiang Cheng is a man-child idiot with the emotional expression range of a loquat, an inferiority complex the size of the moon and self-worth issues going back farther than the Big Bang, and I love him, ok? He loves so hard and so much and it is heartwrenching that he cannot communicate that. Some of his best moments are actually in the background, which is both funny and terribly sad. His rage is at times ridiculous, at times frustrating, at times all he has left, his joy is bright but brief, his grief is devastating. Watching JY greet WWX after the 3 months in the Burial Mounds. The entire temple scene. Crying on his knees. We were to be the Heroes of Yunmeng. Take care. Fuck me right in my feelings ok.

Wen Ning is so fucking precious and I would die for him for all eternity. What an absolute gift his character is. I honestly can’t write much more about him because I’ll cry. But special mentions to his interactions with A-Yuan/Lan SiZhui and the incredible scene where he reveals to Jiang Cheng the truth about his/WWX’s golden core. Unparalleled emotional intensity. The equal parts tenderness and fierceness of his love is breathtaking.

And the loves.

Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen. There is a lot of tragedy in The Untamed. There is great sadness in the main plot line and even in the small side plots. The Ballad of Song Lan and Xian Xingchen (as it’s come to be known in my head) is for me the most devastating and poignant. They just wanted to do good, to wander the world together and do their part to make it a better and safer place. It’s noble, yes, but it’s also so human, so close to home. Because we all want that, to know that we can do some good before we leave this world. They do not want to be involved in the petty squabbles, the undignified and cruel vying for power and dominance. They simply want to live and be. The fact that both of their deaths are pointless, could have been avoided, are the faults of poor timing and terrible terrible luck and cruel turns fate is almost what makes it sadder. Xue Yang screams that XXC is not better than him, that his righteousness and the righteous way he has attempted to live his life is all for naught. And then he is immediately proven wrong—XXC’s heartbreak means he can’t become XY’s puppet. SL is free from XY’s control and avenges himself and XXC. Which is also somehow just as devastating. That XXC and SL were so close, so very close to being together, to living, to making it, but didn’t. Nothing grand or heroic about their deaths—just the unknown and unpredictable nature of life. There is no rhyme or reason, no big important plan, no fate or destiny. They both simply die as we all one day will. And it is their potential cut short, the love and life they could’ve had, that hurts the most. They are not Lan Zhan and Wei Ying: they do not get their second chance, their reunion, their happily ever after. The look shared between SL and LWJ—the shared grief, the recognition, the understanding—and LWJ’s brief and unelaborated-on comment to WWX ‘how fortunate’ speaks volumes. How fortunate you came back/I found you/that’s not us when it could’ve been. That final shot of SL walking away and the brief out-of-focus moment of XXC walking beside him—particularly when it’s echoed with the parallel of WWX and LWJ—chokes me every time.

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Soulmates in every sense of the word. Their song. Their bunnies. Their child. The years they were robbed of. The yearning. The pining. The loyalty. The growth. The love the love the love. The loss the loss the loss. Every Lan Zhan. Every Wei Ying. Every glance. Every soft breath. Every gentle touch. The tenderness. The intimacy. The quiet acceptance. Their love story is one of the ages and, on a personal note as a queer person, what a gift it is to see a queer love story like this. (even when censored as a bromance, which like I mean, they tried but the glances alone are +9000 gay pining but whatever and yes I am making a joke because I’m crying don’t look at me)

TL;DR: I am so thankful The Untamed/CQL/MDZS and all of its adaptations (the source material included obvs) exists. I am so thankful to the writers, translators, casts, crews, creators. I am thankful for the community of fans that exist that love it as I do, who share that love and passion—whether through passionate discussion, rich fanfic or mind-blowing fanart. I am thankful I live in a time where content like this exists and can be shared. I learned a whole lot and I’m so grateful there aren’t even words. Love y’all. I’m gonna go be soft now. 💙

[alexsfictionaddiction]

Review: What Beauty There Is by Cory Anderson

For some reason, I don’t often read YA thrillers especially not ones quite like this. However, I was invited to join The WriteReads’ blog tour for it and I decided to take a chance on something a bit different.

Jack and his younger brother Matty have nothing left in the world. Their father is in prison for a drug crime and their mother has committed suicide and they must now fend for themselves in the cold, terrifying world that they’ve been left in. Of course, there is the suitcase of money that put their father behind bars. Jack decides to find it. Ava Bardem has grown up under the strict control of her criminal father and taught never to love or trust anyone but him. But her father is now looking for the same money that Jack is and Ava must make a choice -stay loyal to her father or help Jack and Matty get to safety.

Ava is quite philosophical and poetic. She tends to ponder the big questions in life and she seems to be incredibly smart. However, she has been horrendously oppressed by the cards that life has dealt her. I knew that she had the potential to do nothing but good in the world but I wasn’t sure whether she would feel the tug of loyalty to her dad yank at her. I won’t spoil the plot but Ava did deserve so much more.

The entire novel is coated in a thick relentless layer of snow. Winter in Idaho is cold, harsh and bitter, reflecting both the realities and the emotions of the characters. The whole story is full of bleakness and devastation, so that’s perhaps something to be aware of before going into this book!

The conversations between Matty and Jack are heartbreaking. Matty is just an innocent child, who has been thrust into this crazy life that he could never truly, fully understand. Perhaps that is a blessing in some respects because it means that he doesn’t quite have the mental load that Jack has. However, he certainly seems to understand enough to be potentially traumatised for life. Through these exchanges with his older brother, you can sense the fear and confusion in his voice and honestly, my heart broke every time.

This is a lesson that Ava’s father repeats to her over and over again in order to exert his control over her. It’s terrifying because we all know that there is an element of truth to it but as a teenage girl, she is exceptionally vulnerable to taking it as gospel. Indeed, she learns that while love does hurt, some things that are labelled as love are in fact much darker ideas.

The book is largely about the power of choice. Every little choice you make determines the path that your life takes and therefore sets you up for joy or despair. It’s most obvious in Ava’s story but of course, Jack makes a risky choice every time he leaves Matty to get food or seek help. Jack and Ava’s fathers made choices to be the terrible men that they are. Jack and Matty’s mother made the ultimate choice to end her life. By the end of the book, I was hopeful that the characters had learned from both their own choices and those of their parents, that they are solely in control of how their lives turn out.

There are glimpses of light and beauty in the book but they are fleeting. The Idaho landscape, though harsh and empty, has an air of magic to it in its wildlife. There was also a blossoming romance in the book that I really didn’t think was necessary. It’s a story of such devastation and heartache that I wasn’t really sure that this aspect fitted properly. I assume Anderson included it to shine a bit of positivity on an incredibly sad tale but it didn’t really work for me. It seemed to begin a little suddenly too and I just could never really get on board with seeing that relationship in that light.

What Beauty There Is is a thought-provoking, tragic story with a huge amount of tension. There is a lot of violence and anxiety-inducing moments, so if you’re sensitive to either of those things, take care! I feel like it is definitely a book that you have to be in the mood for, in order to enjoy. The bad things just keep happening and I can certainly see how that wouldn’t suit some readers. If you like a dark, Stephen King-esque in places, read, it's worth a shot!

What Beauty There Is by Cory Anderson will be published by Penguin on 8th April 2021.

[hesesols]

The Good Life

 “Stop seducing me in front of my daughter!”

Day 1 of IR month 2020

Prompt: Once Upon A Dream

Word count: 2.5K

x

"You're pathetic!"

Grimmjow grouses from his perch among the low-lying branches of the cherry blossom tree. The erratic movement causes a shower of pink petals to descend. Carried by the wind, the rainfall of petals flutters and trails along the faces of both father and daughter before succumbing to the pull of gravity, kissing the earth and becoming one with the world again- heralding the beginning of spring with their fall from grace.

The circle of life is full of stolen moments, enshrined in the poetry of flowers and their decay; each one unique, each one fleeting, tender and surreal- no two ever the same for man or time.

Violet eyes widen at the sight of them.

Clapping her hands excitedly, his youngest tugs at him, pointing out the bright colours to him, making funny little noises as she jabbers gibberish. Her enthusiasm is infectious but Ichigo is frowning as he dusts off the pesky things.

He should have never let Rukia talk him into planting them in the gardens, now every spring is just a personal reminder of how big brother is always watching. Byakuya has eyes everywhere, even at his own backyard. That has certainly proven to put a damper on the mood when he's trying to have a few moments of uninterrupted bliss with his wife.

"Hmph."

His non-committal grunt deepens Grimmjow's scowl. Feline grace marks his leap as he jumps off the tree and lands perfectly next to Ichigo.

"Don't just sit there on your fat ass and hmph, you lazy fuck! Get up and fight me! I swear you get lazier every fucking time I see you."

Ichigo snarls, hastily covering his daughter's ears as he glares.

"Oi! Language, asshole!"

Fatherhood mellowed him out pretty nicely but that doesn't mean he isn't a hot minute away from throwing hands with that blue-haired freak if it comes to that. Especially if his little girl's first word turned out to be a swear word because of someone's potty mouth.

"You do this every month," Ichigo rolls his eyes, shifting his hold on his daughter when she starts wriggling on his lap, "Give it up already, Grimmjow! I'm not going to fight you! Come back next month, maybe you'll get lucky."

"C'mon!"

Grimmjow swears that he's not fraternizing with the enemy here. Lines and loyalties are clearly drawn between Shinigamis and Arrancars. He simply laments the fall of a fellow warrior. How the mighty have fallen!

When and how exactly did the saviour of the three realms get reduced into this?

This... blob of passivity and stagnancy?

He eyes the baby- cherubic, rosy cheeks, bright eyes; the root of all evil, the devil dressed in a bunny onesie- with something akin to apprehension in his gaze and feels a shudder running down his spine; to think that a hero will willingly bend the knee and let himself grow weak for this insufferable… creature that does nothing but sleep, eat and poo all day.

It gurgles at him, makes an attempt to grab at him with her grubby hands and he flinches, hissing as he backs away instinctively.

Truly children and babies, especially babies, are the worst!

He briefly contemplates if he will get away with it if he snatches the creature away from her father's hands and runs for the hills the minute he did. That should teach the punk a lesson! It could work in theory, he muses- a Garganta with one hand, hell spawn in the other. Diabolical plan in the works, his lips curled into a smirk as he creeps forward. He'd like to think that he almost got away with it too if he hadn't made the rookie mistake of looking into Ichigo's eyes.

If looks could kill, Ichigo's glare would have been sharp enough to cut him down a million times over.

"Don't even think about it!"

A father's instinct to protect run deep and being parent to a pair of rambunctious pre-schoolers means that hardly anything surprises him anymore. Nothing- especially not a sneak attack aimed at his youngest- gets by him. His grip tightens as he cradles the tiny body against him. Grimmjow is a dead man if he takes another step forward.

Of course not everyone appreciates his efforts. Hisaki, for one- the literal baby of the family and already a full-fledged Kurosaki when it comes to getting things done her way- is not amused by the tight hold. She squirms, pouts and makes an angry face at her father while she makes persistent attempts to lunge at the other man.

"Urhhh-urhh…”

Baby talk is hardly the most eloquent of speeches but Ichigo tries. Her pinched face as she gestures wildly and wills him to let her loose is entirely too precious to be ignored. The doting father follows her line of vision and snorts when he notices her fixated stare at Grimmjow's colourful hair. Okay, so maybe Rukia was on to something when she said that Kurosakis are born with little to no sense to recognize danger and run from it.

He laughs, kissing Hisaki's cute button nose.

Maybe when she's older. Right now, he doesn't even trust Renji with her and that man's got years of experience in dealing with children compared to the almost-feral Arrancar in front of him.

Gently, he bunny kisses her chubby cheeks, blowing raspberries against them until her attention shifts and he becomes the focus of those big violet eyes again. She giggles- delightful little sounds that melts his heart down and has him smitten all over again since the day he first held her.

Bloodlines don't lie and she is perfect- a blend of Rukia and him sieved and condensed into this little bundle of joy. Don't get him wrong, he loves all his children equally but fathers are allowed certain liberties in playing favourites, especially when it comes to their baby daughters.

He runs a hand through her hair- soft, orange tufts that smell like baby shampoo dipped in an assortment of syrupy goodness, honeyed, sweet; heaven on earth- but that face, that pointy little chin and those unworldly eyes that gleam in the dying day; that's all Rukia.

His baby girl is going to be a heartbreaker someday, just like her mother and Ichigo is both a little excited and worried at the prospect. Someday, he thinks; the line of boys queuing up for her love and affection is going to be long enough to go round Seireitei and he needs to be prepared- will have to keep his blade sharp and ready if only for better crowd control.

As if to ease his troubled thoughts, his daughter yawns and snuggles her tired little head against him. Well- he adjusts his hold, wrapping both hands around her. He is getting ahead of himself there. For now, this is already enough excitement for the one-year-old and clearly past her naptime.

He eyes his long-time rival- deeply scowling with no signs of leaving any time soon.

"You're never going to leave until I say yes, aren't you?"

"Damn straight!"

"Fine! Just let me put her to bed first."

He slips in through the back door, wanders inside the house with his bare feet.

The pictures on the wall, silly little knick-knacks from the Living World decorating the shelves- the story of a life he built together with Rukia. A mishmash of new and old; the past and present- still them but better, fuller, happier with each other- of them on their honeymoon, of them at the Ishida's wedding, of them with Chad as he opened his veterinary clinic, the happy little family at the birth of each child, of his eldest's hatsu-zekku, and the most recent picture taken with their extended family- Shibas, Kurosakis, Kuchikis brought together to celebrate Hisaki's first hinamasturi.

Pockets of happiness preserved in stillness. Each one infinitely more precious than ever; chronicles of their evolving journey through life together. The sheer joy, the softness in their eyes; he can't help but mirror and smile back.

"Let me guess? He won't leave until you fight him?"

He looks up from the smiling faces frozen in time to see his reason for being. Sunshine filters through the open window from the kitchen and his breath catches. He sees her gilded and golden, crowned by the halo of the setting sun.

He heaves an exaggerated sigh as he presses his sleeping daughter to her.

"I can't catch a break! I'm supposed to be on paternity leave."

Paternity leave is supposed to be time spent with family, with his wife, especially his wife. Instead he spends it fending off old frenemies, being reminded of his brother-in-law's presence every five minutes while Rukia tackles her paperwork indoors. She only returned to active duty a few weeks ago and it has been a constant nightmare since then to catch up on the backlog of paperwork.

According to the newly minted Captain and mother of three, he's a distraction to her work progress, and can't be trusted not to mislay official documents in a bid to lure her to back to bed for the pursuit of sleep and other carnal activities, so to the gardens it is.

Ichigo doesn't bother denying it. He's simply saying that Captain Kurosaki-Kuchiki needs to do a better job of saying no, of actually pushing him away rather than deepening the kiss or groping at his ass every time he comes on to her.

It does, as the presence of three growing children attests, take two to tango.

Rukia rolls her eyes, "Most paternity leaves don't last a full year."

Ichigo shrugs unapologetically.

"Anyone who's got a problem with that can take it up with the Soutaichou himself. Kyoraku signed the papers- official seal and everything. I'm on paternity leave until further notice. Even Byakuya agrees."

It was nothing less than a miracle. He and Byakuya never agree on anything.

Rukia snorts, pokes at his sides as she teases, "Well, a little sparring might be good for you. You're starting to look a little soft and round around the edges there."

"Oh I'll show you 'soft'!"

With a playful growl, he pounces- grabbing her by the waist as he nuzzles against her soft hair, breathing her in- desperate and reverent, until the world melts away and all that's left is Rukia, sunshine, warmth and home. A hand rises to touch her face, his thumb tracing the fullness of her lips. There's the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. Proud, spirited; still breathtakingly beautiful but now a fuller figure to hold onto at night, a few more laugh lines dotting her familiar face, and maybe- just maybe, a little softer in the exasperated looks she shoots him whenever he annoys her; but still a fighter in every sense of the word.

She fights for him, for them and their little family, and he is so hopelessly in love with her- the undisputed queen of his heart.

"I'll be back by dinner."

"Come back before then."

Rukia pulls him down for a kiss. It is needy, sensual; a familiar ache that tiptoes a fine line between her wants and his needs. Passion flares and there is fire in her touch as she runs her fingers up and down the length of his bare arm- playful, teasing. There's a teenager lying somewhere in him still- eternally seventeen and reeving to go once she gives the signal.

He remembers long hot summer nights, naked bodies coiling in the dark; violet hazes that streak and colour his world when he gives in. Rukia's touch is magnetic and he is drawn irresistibly to the pull.

"The boys can stay a little longer with Nii-sama and Kukaaku-san today and Hisa sleeps like the dead once she's out," she whispers dark and tempting. Teeth nipping at his lips for good measure as she pulls away. He's all putty and labile in her hands and she knows it.

"We can have the whole house to ourselves."

He almost whimpers. The things she does to him-

He groans, forcing himself to look away from her sultry bedroom eyes. It's been too long.

"Stop seducing me in front of my daughter!"

Rukia laughs, tenderly brushing the stray wispy hair away from Hisaki's face. "You mean our daughter."

Swaddled in her mother's arm, his youngest looks even tinier than usual; her face small enough to fit into one of his palm and a little drool escapes the corner of her mouth as she fusses, tiny little digits flexing then bunching at her mother. His lips curve, wondering what she's dreaming about and if she can comprehend just how happy she makes him just by existing.

They were in his arms before he even knew it. His heart so full that it seems to burst at the seams with the love he has for his little family, smiling so wide that his cheeks hurt.

There is nothing that he wouldn't do for her, for them.

"I'll be back."

Fingers brush at his cheek. Rukia's eyes are soft and smiling as she watches him leave.

Knowing what he knows now, Ichigo will be the first to admit that there's still a whole lot out there that he doesn't know but this much is true: life is a mystery and anything can happen in the blink of an eye, so when good things happen you don't question it.

You don't look a gift horse in the mouth, or scorn at your good fortunes like a little shit and ask why. No, you count your blessings, grab hold of them and run- praying in vain that you'll somehow outrun time itself and the fates never catch a glimpse of your happiness long enough to be envious of it.

Somehow, somewhere; he was at the right place, asked the right questions at the right time and Rukia said yes to all the important ones.

Life begins anew and he hasn't looked back since.

All is well.

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