#hopefully this can shed some light during this hard time

[itsfootballbih]

His color palette🧸🤎

[aena-blue]

Manifestation - Revision/Changing the Past?

Hello everyone! This is another short post to cover a simple topic under the umbrella term manifestation to hopefully shed some light on the topic.

Today I will be talking about revision to offer my view and understanding of it. Obviously, as with anything in the world, there are differing opinions and views on this subject so as always, take what resonates and leave the rest.

What is revision? Revision is when you use your imagination to ‘change’ a past event. In your mind, you would go back to the event you wish to change and alter it, in any way you want to, to change what happened.

An example that is used frequently is for instance an argument between yourself and someone else, for my example, let’s say it was a friend. If you would want to revise this argument, you would use your imagination to bring yourself back to when it happened, then in your mind, see yourself or the other person, or both, reacting differently, doing things differently and/or saying things differently. This could either be during the course of the argument, or perhaps you bring yourself back to just before the argument occurred, and instead of the argument happening, you two never disagreed in the first place and hugged instead!

If you do this, and you feel it real, what should happen is that the energy should shift. You no longer feel like there was an argument, and the person who you had the argument would feel much the same way. Some people say they have experienced that the other person completely forgets that the argument ever happened, or simply act like the argument never happened, as in, the person is friendly and nice to you again just like that.

Now, if we do this, have we actually changed the past? My answer is yes and no. I believe what changes is our experience of the past and thus the influence of that event for our present right now experience. If you revise the argument, I believe the argument still happened, but that your experience of it never happening in your imagination leads to the experience in the -now- of it never happening. Similar but subtle difference. 

Time is not linear, and all and everything, exists right here, right now, all creation is complete. If you think of your entire life experience as a tree, fully grown, already complete, full of branches that contain both your past experience, your current experience, and a plethora of branches for all of your possible future experiences, this is how I would view time. 

When you revise, you cut off one of those branches and it falls to the ground. The branch still exists, and always existed, but it no longer forms part of your current experience of self. It no longer has any influence on your current reality.

I find it helpful to think of revision in this way, because it makes sense to me. Things only have the meaning that you assign to it. If you can take a past event and decide that it no longer means anything, like it never happened. It will be like it never happened. And when we prune the branches of what does not serve us, we can instead focus on growing the branches of what does.

I definitely recommend to use some form of revision from time to time, I have certainly felt it makes me feel better about things and to let go of them. If it is to hard to go back to certain memories or if it makes you uncomfortable to ‘try and change’ the past, I recommend these affirmations: “Everything always happens for a reason” and “Everything is always working out for me” and “Everything is always working out in my favour” and one of my absolute favourite ones “I can’t get it wrong and I am always getting it right”. So no matter what happened, no matter what you did, allow yourself to believe it was meant to happen, that it is okay that it happened, that there is a reason for it happening, and that thing are always working out in your favour.

I hope this helps!

I now offer email coaching on my Etsy Shop for anyone who needs help, assistance, guidance or just a cheerleader for their manifestation journey.

You can email me or use the “ask me” function for anything that might be on your mind, or on your heart. I am here for you all, always. Please note that the Ask Me’s are only open for dream interpretation, general questions or advice at this time.

Please consider supporting my intention & affirmation art business in return for my time and energy by making a purchase or sharing my shop on any of your social media, every page click helps my business grow and I appreciate all of your support.

You can get a sticker for about $2 and if you make a purchase and send me an email to let me know what you bought I will happily give you a free 3 card reading for a question of your choice or 1 free email for manifestation coaching, regardless of the cost of your purchase! 🧡

If you'd like to donate to my channel/blog I gratefully receive energy donations via Paypal, every little helps! 🧡

For anyone that feels so inclined I do have an Etsy Shop for readings.

Much love and light to you all and to the universe 💛💜

~ Lady Blue 💙

[werewolf-morgue]

Dear Diary,

Morning

I didn’t really sleep last night. I just HAD to finish the thing I was working on, and by the time I was done it was 8 am. I opened the window and the blinds today. For both me and my cat. I think she knew we both could use the sunlight and fresh air. It was sunny out and you could see how blue the sky was! The warmth of the sun felt nice on my face and hands and toes. Maybe I’ll go out onto the balcony and drink some tea, maybe even read that book a friend lent me. But for right now I’m going to cuddle my snuggle buddy and get a nap in, hopefully.

Noon

I did not end up getting a nap in unfortunately lol. My roommate sort of hurt my feelings after I found out she was talking to her friend about how she’s the breadwinner, which is true and I’m so thankful she’s been kind enough to help me with rent and groceries and I’m so glad she has a well paying job to do her hobbies on top of helping me out! But she kind of worded it like I wasn’t trying to get jobs when I absolutely have been. I’ve been walking about two miles since my car is completely broken down to the places I can apply to. Plus I’ve been doing all the chores around the house with little help from her. Every time I ask she gets very upset and it’s hard to ask for help as is. It’s just upsetting to feel unappreciated I suppose. I guess I don’t really have all the information and I’m going to try to look at it in a positive light! Luckily I have therapy in a few hours so I’ll be able to express my feelings on it.

Night

Alright so we started the session and beforehand I was frantically deep cleaning my entire apartment and was super dissociated. I had my first meltdown in YEARS and it was very overwhelming, to say the least. But we realized if I’m focusing on a certain body part (which was my feet) we could bring myself back. I realized I was very uncomfortable with the socks I was wearing so I went and grabbed my emergency comfy pair and put them on. It really helped me feel so much better and we proceeded with the session. At this point I was also running on no food for about 20 hours, no sleep, and it was close to my shower time so I was feeling not so great overall (reminder to eat even when you really don’t feel like you have to or don’t want to, I know it’s hard but your body needs energy to run). We realized that I was planning on talking about my recent SA and it was completely understandable for me to frantically clean my apartment beforehand as I had associated my surroundings with how I felt during the attack. It was understandable that I wasn’t sleeping or eating because nothing felt “just right” as my body was in fight or flight all day. My brain didn’t feel safe as I was going to be recounting severe trauma from the attack. We did some grounding and comforting techniques to calm myself down and by the end of the session I was down from a 10/10 discomfort level to a 2/10! Now I’m going to eat some dinner, shower, and probably crash for the night. I’m very glad we managed to turn this from an undesirable situation to one I could handle :)

To recap what I found to help me:

Be prepared to have big emotions when you’re talking about your trauma. It’s ok to feel overwhelmed, you didn’t like what was happening to you and it affected you in a lot of ways. Know that you will probably shed some tears and possibly be on high alert all day.

Grounding techniques. Feel the textures on your skin, is it good or bad? If it’s bad, go change it! No reason to be more uncomfy when you’re already dissociated. Changing my socks really helped me calm down as I was focused on how much better these ones felt rather than the ones I had on, plus I was distracted with having to put on a new pair of socks. Yoga also really helps with this as it makes you to focus on how you’re feeling and your breathing.

Understand that when things don’t “feel right” enough for you to take care of your basic needs it probably means that you are overstimulated, uncomfortable, or maybe triggered. Try to calm yourself with grounding techniques, there’s many more out there that you can try!

If you are trying to clean frantically, stop and think of what could be causing it. Do I feel dirty? Is the area I’m in comfortable for me? Is there anything that I’m anxious about?

Stay safe and I love you all. I hope these tips can help some of you as they have for me!

[lone-wolf-no-more]

#DRVN30 The Beginning of the End, or "Winter Doesn't Last Forever"

My first ever blog post, anywhere.

(Starting Over at Day 1 Yet Again...tomorrow)

Just an average dude who WILL claw his way out of this, for himself, and for the sake of his family and those he cares about!

So, why am I doing this in the first place? Firstly, I have to admit, I have this obsession over getting into the DRVN inner-circle when it's over. And lastly, because I KNOW that if I push myself to do hard things, in the middle of the chaos that is my life right now, it will carry over into the future.

I'm in a place right now, geographically, mentally, etc, that it is a matter of move or die. Keep pushing forward or stagnate. Yeah, screw that. I'm not going to let myself die (so to speak), NOT going to let myself give up.

I'm living with relatives in a small home. My grandfather has graciously allowed me to set up my computer at his bedroom desk, where I type this from. Thing is, The room is directly adjacent to where he has the television on nearly every waking moment. So, that makes things interesting for sure. Let's just say I'm super glad I found that hearing protection in the tool shed.

Interspersed with this will be bits of my journal entries, which hopefully will give you some idea as to my emotional and mental state during this challenge.

Firstly, why I have to start at day 1 again:

I was on the way to bed, and somebody mentioned something they were working on. I gave my input, and it didn't end well. Instead of letting things cool off, I had to continue the conversation from my bed, texting them. Pretty pathetic, huh? I couldn't let it slide for now, I just HAD to have the last word. By texting somebody who was in THE SAME HOUSE as me. I promise you, it isn't just my machismo tendency of wanting to fix everything, and be "right" (whatever that means). It was a misdirected effort at now allowing something to continue, and be "stuck where it was, under the rug".

I have a sibling on the spectrum, ya see, and there are times that even though I think that I was very clear with what I said, they can misconstrue it as something else.

What makes it harder for them, is that they have had to put up with a LOT of totally wrong and undeserved judgement and labeling. And when I fail to communicate properly with them, and they can get upset (which doesn't happen often, but once is one too many), I can get VERY depressed. And I don't want to just let something cool off before I return to it. So I end up making things worse by continue to talk. Like, the rest of the day can go absolutely amazing. I'll get stuff done, I'll stay focused, have some small wins, stay out of trouble (whatever that may mean lol) take some small steps forward up the proverbial mountain.

But when I lose that battle against my own ego, and mess up with my sibling, I feel like none of that matters. Because I FAILED THEM, and I FAILED MYSELF. Yes, admittedly, a conversation with a person who has both had crazy trauma an who has Asperger's can be tough at times. But that just sounds like a copout to me.

So yes, I "failed" day 1, and I failed that conversation. I see these conversations as tests, tests which once they're over, they cannot be repeated.

But, "Every day is new, with no mistakes in it." Kudos if you know where that quote originates.

Also, if you have actually read all the way through this part, you are hands-down a legend.

"On with it already!" Yeah, I know I'm a windbag at times, sorry about that.

#DRVN30 Challenge Parameters

Remember, this isn't me beating myself up "like an abusive parent" as Leon Hendricks put it. This is self-care. Suffering leads to strength. Difficulty leads to diamonds.

Wake Up Time:

Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday I'm waking up at 8:30 AM each morning. Even if I'm not out of bed, I start the process by doing breathing exercises to help me wake up, and then a few minutes later get out of bed and immediately go into light exercises while doing belly (nose) breathing. So things like arm circles, shoulder circles, neck nods, and core isometrics. These work to get the blood and oxygen flowing, and get my sleepy head working.

It can be an extra fun challenge due to the fact that I'm sleeping on a non-winterized deck. It's the only place I would be able to both sleep without being disturbed and not be in the middle of everything in the house. Like I said, it's a...cozy place. So not exactly a Normal Rockwell painting, but I'm making it work.

The reason I chose these particular days for the 8:30 AM wakeup is because those are the days I trade the Nasdaq market open, and I know it is something I can sustain for the 30 days. I'm already in a bit of weakened state, mentally and physically, and have lower quality sleep, so I need to pace myself, and allow more sleep the other weekdays.

Diet: I start the morning with some hot water and vinegar to try to "move things along" in the lower gi.

I've been struggling for over two years with indigestion partly due to a lot of inflammation in my body (from post-accident surgeries, joint imbalances, etc), so it consists every day of this:

Morning: smoothie made with organic salad greens mix, olive oil, Cacao powder, 3 raw eggs (I know, look at me eating luxury food), flax seed powder and/or soaked chia seeds, and some frozen fruit. Liquid base is straight up from a carton of bone broth. Yeah, I know I probably would get more benefit from slow-cooking it for awhile, but I don't know if I could allocate time for that right now. It's literally a game of "Do I want to take those extra steps to do that", since if I walk too much I then get ankle and shoulder pain.

Afternoon and Evening: Two to Three "Huel" meal replacement shakes, with a couple raw eggs thrown in there somewhere. Again, there's no doubt a better way to do this, but I just don't have the money to try to create a more beneficial diet and regiment right now. I am however, taking a probiotic and enzyme supplement regularly.

Lastly, I'm avoiding caffeine. Especially with my body being "stuck in repair mode" at this point, I can't afford to give it a short-term "energy hit" that's just going to hurt me longer-term. Gotta do this at least for these 30 days.

And that's about it. On weekends, I may have a pound of cooked ground turkey with some seasoning and lots of butter (that fat really helps my stomach break things down), and that's about it.

Exercise/Movement:

I Get up, move around, and get those muscle kinks out! Movement is life, especially for me! My bad leg (the one with drop-foot) tends to pull things outta wack, so I gotta do something to offset that. The most intense exercise I do at this point is core isometrics in the morning, and a full-body isometric squeeze at the end. I have too much inflammation and muscle imbalances to do anything like pushups, etc.

This video should give you an idea of what I do:

Mindfulness/breathing and grounding exercises. I combine "Vagus nerve" reset exercises, like this one

Ahem...nope, that's totally a missclick. Nope, I don't struggle with loneliness at all, and I'm totally not watching that later. ASMR is purely to help me wind down.

...nerve reset exercises, like this

with breathing exercises. Example: breath, count 1, breath, count 2, and so on until 5, then start over. Has helped me zone out and get into an "affirmation flow state". "I am an intellectual and artistic problem-solving genius." "My body and mind are a powerful unit." I don't pre-plan these things. Which I think is a positive sign that my mind is switching from "negative victim mentality mode" into "conquer the world in due time" mode. Take note, if you are REALLY struggling with being focused, present, grounded, (not to mention with trauma that's stuck in you, like me, from my crazy near-death accident), THIS WILL HELP YOU. I feel the effects within less than a minute of starting.

Daily Journaling: Self-explanatory. Has to be done before I get off my computer, and send to my accountability partner, Eissac. This majorly helps me "air the daily thought laundry" out.

Get off PC by or at 9:00 PM: Basically, I have to drop everything and be off the PC no later than 9:00 PM. If it's 9:01, I've failed, and I have to restart the challenge at day 1.

Avoid Caffeine: No black tea, no coffee, nothing with caffeine in it. My body is stuck in "repair mode" as it is, and (at the very least for these 30 days) I need to not take a "short-term energy hit" that will make me crash and feel bad later, not to mention make it harder for my body to calm down and heal itself. Note: caffeine never will give you actual energy. At the end of the day it is a stimulant, not a true energy source. It is quite the rabbit trail, but I would really suggest reading up on the great American sacred cow that is caffeine.

Avoid Porn: This beast needs to die once and for all. I've been good at staying away from it over the past month, but this needs to continue as part of who I am. And who I am is somebody who is strong, disciplined and capable. Porn just doesn't fit in my identity! And porn is one of THE biggest ways that our perception of reality and women get incredibly skewed, and that contributes to our lack of respect and true love towards them. Thank you Andrew Tate, I'm sure you really helped with that. Tell me, was getting rich off exploiting women and being a pretentious ass worth it? Ahem, sorry, I'll continue.

Nothing that I know is entertainment till 7:00 PM: So, no Twitch Streams, no non-educational videos (Watching things related to investing, trading, entrepreneurship and health is part of my "day job" right now, so that's excluded), no Facebook, no Discord Servers (save the trading one I'm in), and only educational or self-improvement podcasts. Right now, I'm mainly listening to the Daily Revolution Podcast

Yes, there is a reason he looks (and sounds) like The Rock. Hint: he's from the same part of the world, and also hits the gym pretty often. And does he also sing, you ask? I believe so, on occasion. Thankfully, I don't think You're welcome is anywhere in his repertoire.

His words give me the proverbial kick in the pants I need. Which goes along with my other "allowance": music. Even the kitchen isn't an escape from the TV, and I need positive things in my ears to keep me sane. The right music can really help get me through the day, and when the choice is either the stuff that's obnoxiously blasting from the TV, and uplifting music or podcasts, the choice is pretty obvious, I think.

I'll also be sending a screenshot with the habit tracker app to Eissac (my amazing accountability partner) each day:

and a screenshot of what apps I used on my phone(s) each day.

Don't have any way to really record my time on my PC, so I guess we're using the honor system. But, I'm not taking it easy on myself. If I slip up, I will NOT let it slide, I will start again, come "accidental TV watching", police officers, negative temperatures, or...shine.

Been struggling with chronic health conditions for some years now, ones that cause my body, digestion, energy, and brain to "redline" all too easily.

Now we come to why I'm starting over tomorrow...again. Walked by the TV, and accidentally watched a few moments. Doesn't matter if somebody else had it on. I still choose to watch it. Doesn't matter if I have to walk by it every day. Tunnel vision is the key. If I want to reach that light at the end of said tunnel, that TV just doesn't exist.

Been struggling with chronic health conditions for some years now, ones that cause my body, digestion, energy, and brain to "redline" all too easily.

But I'm not going to take it easy on myself with this #DRVN30 challenge. I've had to start over with the 30 days...twice now. This is the day of my second slip-up. Walked by the TV (that's going 24/7), and accidentally watched a few moments. Doesn't matter if somebody else has it on. I still chose to watch it. Doesn't matter if I have to walk by it every day. Tunnel vision is the key. If I want to reach that light at the end of said tunnel, that TV just doesn't exist.

To be honest, I'm proud of what I've managed the past couple of days. There's always this internal struggle between my negative self-talk, and the part of me that knows I'm greater than that. I know that if I can make it through this challenge during one of the most daunting parts of my life, it can and will prepare me for the future.

You see, during this time, not only am I in the midst of fighting against health conditions, but I've reached a bit of a crisis point in my life, and something has to give. These past few days have definitely tested my mettle, and my will to continue the fight.

Two nights ago, I sat cross-legged on that very bed behind me, talking to two uniformed officers about an eviction. I managed to (temporarily, at least) maneuver my way out of the situation without raising my voice or getting scared. All the same, it felt akin to threading the Grand Canyon in an F-16. No, I totally didn't steal that from Top Gun.

The next day, trading the market (or rather, watching it) was quite a rollercoaster, to say the least. I had some people basically cursing the day they starting trying to trade the Nasdaq.

In spite of the pressure I may have felt (especially considering last night's interesting incident), I just stayed out of the market. Far better to preserve capital by sitting on your hands. Once again, I think the grounding and mindfulness is really paying off here. I honestly think that overall not only am I becoming a more calm yet decisive person, I honestly think now more than ever the groundwork is being laid for my sibling and I to finally skip town and make a life for ourselves. The only reason this is happening is because we are working TOGETHER, as a TEAM. And just as important, we keep accounts short. There's been too much petty arguing and in fighting in this family, and I want to know that we at least have each other's back.

The night after the "uniformed officer incident"...I thought I had to make things even more interesting.

I'm sure you're dying to hear about how THAT went. Well, sorry, not today. Tomorrow I will have actual footage of me braving the Antarctic vortex that passed through, along with the ice cold shower I took in the dark. Yes, an actual "Overnight Challenge" that I really wasn't planning on doing.

Remember, winter doesn't last forever. The thaw WILL come, and you will see the end in due time! Yes, I was trying to draw an analogy between my life and the long winter. Appropriate, I think.

Thank you for reading to the end. I hope my ramblings actually helped you some.

You got this!

Bonus for reading this far. :)

Music I'm listening to today: Judah Earl. He has some truly beautiful, uplifting music that keeps me in a good headspace.

And if you haven't, PLEASE check out Eissac's blog: https://from-rock-bottom.tumblr.com. He has a very concise (still working on that myself) and insightful way of recording his own progress with the #DRVN30 challenge. I honestly aspire to be able to collect and record my thoughts more like him. I'm kinda all over the place.

[amistytown]

The Brothers Comfort MC During a Panic Attack

This is my first attempt at writing down my headcanons for the brothers, so I apologize if anything is out of character. I meant it to be short and sweet, but it grew out of my control after a while. I’m a perfectionist and wanted to rewrite everything. I made minor edits and am posting it anyway or it’ll sit in my drafts forever; I admit I put the most effort into Lucifer’s, forgive me. Also sorry for the repetitiveness and any typos you may find. I decided to write how the brothers would comfort MC during a panic attack, especially as someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks themselves. Honestly, I wrote this as a way to comfort myself since I’ve been dealing with terrible anxiety lately. Of course, everyone experiences anxiety differently, so I can only speak from my own experiences. I didn’t go into detail when it comes to the symptoms themselves because it’s from the point of view of the brothers and only so many are visible to the eye. Trigger warning for depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Thank you for reading!

LUCIFER

Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worst. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.

Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.

If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your wellbeing of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice low, soothing, he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, providing you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf. 

Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist in this moment, his gaze not leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.

MAMMON

Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers’ faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders. One he deserves.

Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the façade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. Furthermore, you lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stung. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?

Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best effort to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.

The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay, knowing he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core, blood running cold. Yeah, he should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.

After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him? He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffer through Hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side then know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin unnaturally warm, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you, okay—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How in the Devildom did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy lmao. 

Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely winded, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out a sorry. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.

Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.

Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to. 

SATAN

Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced with worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means to stay by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.

A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together. 

Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end, when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan thankful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!

Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dares to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.

In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go without punishment either.

Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has levelled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself. He loves his brothers. But loves you most of all.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.

The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices travelling up the stairs, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. 

Before the others can round the corner, he hurries down the hall and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed sorry, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him. 

Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.

With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what. Even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

No Returns or Exchanges - Fred Weasley

Title: No Returns or Exchanges Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred and Y/N get to start their happily ever after A/N: this is for @mrs-fredweasley​. I usually do my requests in the order I receive them, but she asked for some fluff with Fred and the reader getting married and having kids for her birthday, and since she’s my birthday twin I couldn’t resist! Feedback is always welcome and requests are open!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“There you are, Mrs. Weasley,” Fred greets as he sneaks up behind Y/N and wraps his arms around her waist.

“I’m not Mrs. Weasley quite yet, Freddie,” Y/N teases as she turns around in his embrace. Her arms wind around Fred’s neck and she pulls him in for a brief kiss. “You’re about twelve hours too early.”

Fred starts to slowly sway them back and forth, humming quietly to the music drifting through the air from the large tent behind them. Fred and Y/N aren’t getting married until tomorrow, but Ginny, Y/N’s maid of honor, insisted on mixing some muggle wedding traditions in alongside the regular wizard ones. Tonight, had been what Ginny referred to as the rehearsal dinner, where the wedding party and their close family went through the ceremony that will take place tomorrow, before having a mini celebration together.

“Do I really have to go home without you?” Fred pouts. Another muggle tradition Ginny insisted on was that Y/N and Fred would not be allowed to see each other until Y/N was heading down the aisle towards him.

Y/N giggles and kisses Fred’s pout away. “I think it’ll be romantic. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that what they say?” Y/N rolls her eyes playfully when Fred frowns at her. “Oh, come on, Freddie. It’s only one night apart.”

“When’s the last time we spent more than 1 hour apart outside of work?” Fred ask, looking down at Y/N expectantly. When she doesn’t answer he smiles. “Exactly. One night is going to feel like an eternity.”

“Okay so maybe it’ll be a bit hard,” Y/N concedes. “But after tomorrow we’ll get to spend every day for the rest of eternity together, that’s gotta be worth it, isn’t it? And have you forgotten that we’ll be spending the next two weeks completely alone together in a cabin in the woods.”

“How can I forget about that?” Fred muses. “Just me, you, and as little clothing as possible for two weeks straight. That’s the only kind of honeymoon I want.” Most of their friends and family were surprised that Fred and Y/N didn’t want to go on some adventurous honeymoon but wanted to just relax together in some secluded forest. But for them that seemed like the only option. It’s only been 13 months since the war ended, and after Fred’s near-death experience he and Y/N decided to take life slow for a bit.

“So that’s why you wanted to go somewhere secluded,” Y/N says, realization washing over her.

Fred laughs. “I may have had ulterior motives when I convinced you to book the cabin in the woods over the beach house.”

Y/N shakes her head fondly. “You’re a bit of a menace, you know that?”

“Yeah but I’m your menace. And you’re way past the return or exchange date so you’re stuck with me,” he jokes, leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead.

“Oi, lover boy!” George calls from behind them. Y/N and Fred break apart so they can look at him. “Ginny says it’s time to go, and she’s already wacked me over the head once so get your arse over here before she does it again.”

“See you tomorrow?” Fred asks as he leans down to kiss Y/N briefly.

“Meet you at the altar,” she confirms with a smile.

-

“You sure you wanna marry my brother?” Ginny teases as they get ready to walk down the aisle. “Because I could cause a distraction if you wanna slip out the front door and run away.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and grabs the bouquet Ginny hands her.  “Ha, ha. Very funny, Gin.”

Ginny beams at her before taking her place in line. Y/N takes a deep breath as the music starts, silently regretting that she chose to not have her dad walk her down the aisle. A few months ago, she had bashed the archaic notion of someone giving her away to Fred as if she were a piece of property, but as nerves start to bubble in her stomach she wishes she had someone by her side to calm her down. Everyone in front of her starts to slowly head towards the alter, and she fixes her dress one last time before she follows behind Ginny.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Fred whispers as she takes his hands at the altar. There are tears in his eyes, and a few leak down his cheeks. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

Y/N blushes, trying to blink away her own tears as to not ruin her makeup. “You clean up quite nice as well, Freddie.”

Fred smiles down at her, maintaining eye contact as the official from the ministry starts the ceremony. Fred squeezes Y/N’s hands tightly as he talks, only half paying attention to what he’s saying. His thoughts are completely consumed with Y/N and how breathtakingly beautiful she is. The dress she picked out compliments all of her best features, and the veil cascading down her shoulders makes her look like a goddess. Fred has imagined this day over a dozen times since he proposed last year, but everything he thought of pales in comparison to how beautiful Y/N looks right now.

“Can I have the rings?” the officiant asks, pulling Fred’s thoughts fully to the ceremony. George digs around in his pocket for a moment before handing the delicate silver rings to the man. He hands the smaller one to Fred. “Now it’s my understanding that the bride and groom have prepared their own vows?” When Fred and Y/N nod, he smiles and motions for Fred to start.

“Y/N, I’ve been enamored with you since I was 11 years old, when you made your cauldron blow up and covered Snape head to toe in the worst smelling goo I’ve ever encountered – and that’s saying something,” Fred pauses as everyone chuckles, and he starts to slide the ring down Y/N’s finger. “When you agreed to accompany me to Hogsmeade during third year I felt like the luckiest guy in the world and I still do. I was so nervous, I had no idea how I managed to convince the pretties girl in school to go out with me, and all these years later I have no idea how I convinced you to marry me. But like I said last night, there’s no returns or exchanges you’re stuck with me for good now.”

Fred slides the ring down Y/N’s finger until it meets her engagement ring. “You’ve stuck by me through every risk I’ve taken and every dumb idea that’s popped into my mind. You were one of the first people to support my dream of opening the joke shop with George, and you were there to support me every step of the way. Every late-night George and I had planning things out or developing products you were right there with me, usually you were asleep, but it was still nice to have you there. You were always the first person to volunteer to test out a product and you were always there for me to vent to when something didn’t work out. You pushed me to leave school early with George, and once you moved in with us you were always there to snuggle with me after a long day.”

Fred takes a deep breath and brings one of his hands up to wipe away the tears Y/N has started to shed. “You gave up so much of your life to be there for me after I was crushed by that wall. No matter how hard I tried to get you to go back to work or just leave the house in general. You’ve always shown me unconditional love and support, and that’s what I’m promising to show you for the rest of our lives. No matter how crazy or hard or scary life gets, I’ll be there by your side, loving you and helping you through it.”

By the time the officiant is pronouncing them husband and wife, both Fred and Y/N are openly crying, but as they share their first kiss as husband and wife, neither of them really cares.

-

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Fred greets with a smile as Y/N pushes the door to his office open. He pushes away from his desk slightly and pats his lap.

“Me too, I hate throwing up,” Y/N responds, taking a seat on Fred’s lap. She settles in and presses a kiss to his cheek. “How’s work going today, husband?” she asks with a giggle. They’ve been married for just over two months, and it still gives Y/N butterflies every time she refers to Fred as her husband.

Fred rolls his eyes and grabs Y/N’s face so he can press a kiss to her lips. “It’s been quite busy today wife. The restock of the new whizbang line already sold out.” Fred settles his hands on Y/N’s hips and kisses her again. “What about you? What have you been getting up to on your day off?”

“I had breakfast with Ginny and Hermione. Did some shopping,” she says casually pointing towards the bags she dropped near the door. “Nothing too crazy or exciting.”

Fred’s eyes light up at the sight of the bags. “Shopping, hm? Did you happen to pick up a present for your lovely, adorable, adoring husband while you were out?” he asks hopefully.

“Maybe,” Y/N muses with a wink. “You’ll have to wait until after work to find out.” Y/N giggles as Fred frowns and she kisses him one last time before standing up.

“You’re such a tease,” he scolds as Y/N gathers the bags in her hand.

“I know.” She waves at Fred and blows him a kiss before heading back into the joke shop and upstairs to their flat. They’re still living with George for the time being as they save up for a house, and as Y/N places her shopping bags on the bed she starts to wonder if they’ll have to start looking for one sooner rather than later.

Y/N sticks her hand in one of the bags and fumbles around a bit, humming as her hands closes around a rectangular cardboard box. Her hand shakes slightly as she pulls the pregnancy test out and starts to familiarize herself with the instructions. While her and Fred have already come to the conclusion that they both want a house full of children someday, she never imagined that they may be starting their family so soon after their wedding.

“Now or never,” Y/N mutters to herself as she heads towards the bathroom. Y/N thought they had been careful while on their honeymoon, she knows there were a few times they had forgotten to use the contraceptive charm in the heat of the moment, but she figured it would be okay. However, when her period never came she began to suspect that they weren’t in fact okay, and the random nausea spells she’s been having for the past week seemed to only solidify that fact.

After she’s closed and locked the door behind her, Y/N does what she needs to do and sets the pregnancy test on the counter face down. “Who knew three minutes could feel like a lifetime?” she asks to no one as she watches the time go by on her watch. When the three minutes is finally up Y/N’s hand starts to shake again as she reaches for the stick. She shuts her eyes tightly as she flips it over, and after a few deep breaths she finally takes a peek.

Pregnant.

Y/N starts to cry as a whirlwind of emotions flow through her. On one hand she’s so overwhelmingly happy, being a mother is something she’s always wanted and to be doing it with Fred makes her heart burst with joy. But she can’t help but also feel an intense bout of worry flowing through her. She and Fred are only 21, and they haven’t even been married six months yet. Y/N knows that Fred wants to be a dad, but she can’t help but worry that he’ll think this is a bad thing and that it’s far too soon for them to become parents.

“Hey, love. You left one of your bags downstairs,” Fred calls out as he walks through the door.

Y/N furiously wipes away her tears and sticks the pregnancy test in the back pocket of her jeans. She takes a deep breath and opens the bathroom door, jumping slightly when she sees Fred. “You scared me, Freddie. I didn’t hear you come down the hall.”

Fred frowns at her. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” When Y/N nods he gives her a look. “Were you throwing up again? You’re all pale, love. Are you sure we shouldn’t go see a muggle doctor or a healer or something?”

“I’m fine, love,” Y/N reassures, pushing past Fred. She starts to head down the hall when she feels Fred’s hand brush her ass. “What are you- oh,” she gasps, turning around to face Fred. He’s staring down at the pregnancy test in his hands. “Fred,” Y/N starts, not really sure what to say.

“Is this what I think it is?” Fred murmurs, looking up at Y/N. He grips the test in his hand tightly, tears starting to form in his eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

Y/N nods slowly as she bites her lip. “Yeah, I am.” Fred falls to his knees and brings Y/N close to him, shoving her shirt up a little. He starts to pepper kisses all over her warm skin, laughing as Y/N starts to giggle and squirm. “Fred! Fred stop that tickles!”

Fred presses one final kiss to her stomach before he stands up and kisses Y/N passionately. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant. I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby.” Fred lets go of Y/N and starts to head towards the door. “I have to go tell George.”

“Freddie, wait,” Y/N calls with a laugh, chasing after him. She closes her hand around his wrist and pulls him back towards her. “You’re not mad? Or upset?”

Fred gives Y/N a look like she’s crazy. “Upset? Mad? Why would I be any of those things? You know I want to be a dad, love. We’ve talked about this before.”

“I dunno,” Y/N shrugs. “We’re young and we haven’t been married for that long. I just thought you wouldn’t think it’s the right time.”

Fred sighs and comes back towards Y/N, wrapping her up in a hug. “Love I don’t care about any of that. So, what we’ve only been married for two months? We’ve been as good as married since we were 18 when you first moved in here.” Fred presses a kiss to her forehead and smiles down at her. “Besides if we’re gonna have enough kids to fill a quidditch team we need to have them young, I can’t be an old man teaching my kids how to fly,” he jokes with a laugh.

“A whole quidditch team?” Y/N asks. When Fred gives her a wink Y/N rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you Fred Weasley.”

-

“Fred what are you doing?” Y/N murmurs around a yawn. She started to wake up after a warm heavy weight rested on her stomach, and when she finally opened her eyes she saw Fred half hanging off the bed as he laid on his front. He’d pushed her shirt up and his head is hovering over the swell of her stomach while his hand strokes it lightly.

“Talking to the baby,” he responds, as if the answer is obvious.

Y/N shifts so she’s laying on her elbows so that she can look down at him properly. “At 2 am?”

Fred nods, pressing a light kiss to her skin. “I couldn’t sleep. And I read in that muggle book Hermione gave us last week that the baby can hear things now, so I figured I’d try it out.”

Y/N chuckles brings a hand up to rub her stomach. “Well I think the baby likes the sound of your voice, they’ve been moving like crazy.” Early last week Y/N had started to feel the baby move around inside of her. The first time it happened it scared the shit out of her, but now she’s started to miss it when the baby is still.

“Really?” Fred asks, his eyes lighting up. The movements Y/N has been feeling are still far too light for Fred to feel from the outside, but every night he spends hours rubbing her bump to try and feel something.

“Yeah, really. My ribs have become a punching bag.” Y/N smiles as the baby lands a few kicks to her stomach. “Here, gimme your hand.

Fred gives Y/N the hand that isn’t already on her stomach, watching as she places it on the side of her bump. She presses his hand into her skin, and he holds his breath, hoping to feel something. “Holy shit,” he gasps as the skin beneath his hand moves ever so slightly. Fred watches his hand in awe, smiling as it moves lightly with each movement. “That’s so cool.”

Y/N laughs and lets go of Fred’s hand so she can run her hand through his hair. “Innit? Though it does feel kinda weird that it’s like, coming from inside of me. But it’s nice. Like I’m never alone.”

“Hey little one,” Fred coos against Y/N’s skin, pressing down against her stomach as he feels the baby kick him in response. “I’m your Daddy, and I can’t wait to meet you.” Fred presses a kiss to Y/N’s skin and tears form in his eyes when he feels a small movement against his mouth. “I know your Mummy is doing such an amazing job of growing you in there but hurry up and get out of there so I can hold you and play with you and kiss you and cuddle you.” Fred tears his eyes away from Y/N’s bump so he can wink at his wife. “Plus, the sooner you get out of there the sooner Daddy can give you a sibling.”

Y/N scoffs and flicks Fred on the forehead. “Can we finish making this one before you start planning the next?”

“What? There’s no harm in planning ahead,” he teases, crawling up the bed to kiss Y/N sweetly.

-

“Hi there little bug,” Fred coos, gently rocking his newborn daughter. She’s only a few hours old, and her big eyes are bright as she blinks up at Fred. “I’m your Daddy and I love you so much Miss Ellie belly.”  Her actual name is Electra, but Fred has settled on calling her Ellie. Y/N had found her name in a baby book Hermione dropped off, and they both instantly fell in love with it. It means bright one, and after the dark times Fred and Y/N had survived in order to bring her into the world it seemed like the perfect fit.

Fred presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart melting as she makes a little noise. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers. “Just don’t tell Mummy I said that.”

“Maybe you should check to make sure Mummy is asleep before you start spilling your secrets,” Y/N responds with a laugh.

Fred turns around, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, love. I figured you’d be a goner after the past few days you’ve had.”

Y/N moves over to make room for Fred and pats the space next to her. “I was only in labor for what 36 hours? That’s nothing,” she says with a laugh.

Fred comes over and sits next to Y/N, cradling Ellie tightly against his chest. “Don’t downplay yourself, love. You’re an absolute superhero.” He begrudgingly passes the baby back to Y/N and wraps an arm around her, his other hand coming up to grab Ellie’s foot through the blanket she’s wrapped up in. “We wouldn’t have our perfect little angel without you.”

Y/N blushes, looking over at Fred. “You helped a little bit. And I did nearly break your hand while I was pushing.”

“Aw, Y/N. You flatter me,” Fred teases. He presses a kiss to her temple and takes a moment to just watch as Y/N cuddles Ellie close. “I didn’t know I could love something this much,” Fred says quietly, crying slightly for the second time that day. The first had been when the doctor placed Ellie in his arms for the first time. “But every time I look at her my heart feels like it’s going to burst from how much love is in it.”

“I know, right? Every time I look at her I feel like crying. She’s just so tiny and perfect and ours.” Y/N leans down and presses a kiss to Ellie’s forehead. “I almost can’t believe that we made her. I don’t know how you and I could make something so beautiful.”

Fred gently grabs Y/N’s chin and turns her head so he can kiss her passionately. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world, so it is no surprise that our daughter is the most beautiful little girl in the world.” Fred kisses Y/N again briefly, before letting go of her chin so he can stroke Ellie’s cheek. “How are you feeling, love? Can I get you anything?”

“I’m alright, Freddie, thank you,” Y/N says softly, looking back down at their daughter. “I actually feel really good. To be honest your Mum scared me a bit, I thought it would be way worse.”

Fred chuckles, melting as Ellie’s eyes flutter closed. “I think Healers have revolutionized childbirth in the twenty years it’s been since she had a baby.” He bites his lip, nudging Y/N so she’ll look at him. “So now that this one’s out, when can we start trying for number 2?”

-

“Y/N love, I’m home!” Fred calls, stepping out of their fireplace and into the living room. He dusts the ashes from his suit, frowning when his wife doesn’t answer him immediately. But it turns into a smile when he spots his daughter peering at him over top of her play pen.

“Ellie,” he coos, heading over to her. “Look at you, standing up on your own!” he praises, lifting her out and up into the air. He tosses her up gently, laughing as she giggles madly at him. “Where’s your Mummy?” he asks, settling the infant on his hip. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his stomach turning to mush when she cuddles into his chest. “Let’s go find her then, hm?”

Fred starts to explore the house, grinning as Ellie babbles baby nonsense into his skin. He can’t believe how fast the past 8 months have gone, and while he loves watching Ellie grow and learn new things, he misses the baby stage already. “What do you think Mummy’s doing?” he asks, nodding along to her babbles as if she’s actually answering him. “I think she might be hiding to scare Daddy. What do you think?”

After checking their downstairs Fred starts to head up the stairs, his fingers lightly digging into Ellie’s belly to tickle her. She shrieks with laughter, and it sounds like music in Fred’s ears. “Daddy misses you while he’s at work, Miss Ellie belly. I think I should take you with me tomorrow. What do you think? Do you wanna spend the day with Daddy and Uncle George at the joke shop?”

Fred peppers kisses to Ellie’s head as he walks down the hallway. The door to his and Y/N’s room is shut and as he goes to grab the doorknob it swings open and Y/N practically runs into him.

“Oh, Fred,” she gasps, holding something to her chest. “I didn’t hear you come in, love.” Fred eyes her wearily as Y/N leans forward to tickle Ellie’s stomach with her free hand and press kisses to her chubby cheeks. “Is your Daddy home, Miss Ellie? Did Daddy finally come home to see you?” she asks, laughing as Ellie giggles at her.

“What’s in your hand?” Fred asks.

Y/N looks up at him, trying to seem as innocent as possible. “Nothing,” she responds, showing him the hand that was on Ellie’s stomach.

Fred rolls his eyes playfully. “The other one, gorgeous.”

“Oh, um,” Y/N blushes and looks away from Fred as she takes her hand from her chest and opens her palm. A positive pregnancy test is laying in her hand, staring up at Fred.

Fred gasps. “Another one?”

Y/N nods and snuggles into Fred’s chest as he pulls her into a hug with his free hand. “Dunno why you’re so surprised, you’ve been trying to get me pregnant since Ellie was born.”

Fred laughs and leans down to kiss Y/N deeply. “Guess it’s time to start thinking about the next one then,” he teases.

Y/N glares at Fred. “Are you sure it’s not too late to return or exchange you?”

“Sorry love, I burned the receipt long ago,” Fred responds with a laugh, kissing Y/N again.

[nextdoorharry]

imaaaaagine a world like that..can you? part 2

-

in which y/n sees a text, harry lies to her, and wants her back.

a/n: ahhhh!!! i feel like the first part of this story was a fan favorite out of all my other pieces! so thank you thank you thank you!!! hope you enjoy!

here’s the link to part 1 if you haven’t read it already!

-

you were always a light sleeper. you would wake up to a pillow falling on the floor, slight wind coming from outside, or even a phone that’s on silent vibrate. that’s the case when you woke up to a text vibration sound coming from a phone. tired eyes, you wake from your current position and see a love island episode playing. on auto-play of course because you already remember watching the previous episode a few days prior. you guess you and harry fell asleep during the new one you two were watching. with tired eyes, you squint to see harry sleeping peacefully. you miss this, you thought. sitting there in silence and taking in how harry used to sleep, slight snores, mouth a little open. except he’d be right next to you and not across.

your thoughts interrupted you hear the text buzz again. you grab what you assume to be your phone, since you and harry both have simple, plain black cases.

wrong.

it wasn’t your phone. it was harry’s.

you realized this when you read the text displayed on the lock screen, from olivia wilde.

I miss you, and our casual hookups. Can’t stop thinking about it. it read. you wanted to breakdown and cry right there.

you felt all kinds of emotions; confused, upset, angry, and jealous. why wouldn’t harry tell me this part? no i understand that, but why would he make it seem like he did not enjoy it at all? clearly he’s comfortable doing this stunt if he was hooking up with her. all these thoughts running through your head as you quietly get up, turn off the tv, and go upstairs to your bedroom. leaving harry to sleep on the couch.

you feel tears rolling down your face as you get into bed, quiet sobs erupting from your chest. you loved him. you still love him. you were glad when harry said that it’s all pr. you were glad when he made it seem like its all fake. but now, it was all a lie. sure it was a pr stunt, but harry and olivia seemed to take advantage of that and use that to get intimate. he clearly wasn’t as annoyed as he made to seem about the situation since he got to hookup with her. you may be jealous, but you don’t care that he didn’t mention something private like that to you, because he didn’t need to, it’s his business. but what stings is that he made it seem like it was clear he wasn’t actually into olivia.

-

you wake up to hear the coffee machine on, and the sound of something being cut against the cutting board. harry’s still here. you felt weird facing him now that you know he lied to you. even though you two aren’t in a relationship anymore, he has never lied to you. ever. nonetheless, you get up and proceed with your morning routine, then head downstairs.

“mornin,’ sleep well?” harry smiles as he sees you enter the kitchen. his eyebrows furrow a bit as you come closer to his vision. he couldn’t help but notice your eyes look a bit puffier than usual than how it normally looks when you’ve just woken up. he knows its either allergies or that you cried.

you reply with a slight “mhm” and reach for the cupboard to get glasses.

the thought of you crying makes him worried. it always did. you rarely cried during your relationship with him. only when it was a close individual’s funeral, or tears of laughter. or the day you two argued and he broke it off with you.

that’s why he hates seeing you in your state now. because if you were crying, all he could picture is the day you two broke up.

“y/n, y’good? your eyes look puffier than usual, love.” harry asks cautiously, trying to read your face, which refuses to make eye contact with him.

you were stood by the fridge, filling the glasses of water for the two of you when you replied, “m’good, just allergies. cat’s shedding season.” you say with a straight face, looking towards the glasses you’re filling. not wanting to look harry in the eyes. because all you can think about is how he was intimate with olivia, and how he lied. your stomach already turns at the thought.

“take the allergy meds that doctor prescribed you a while ago. remember it works wonders.” harry smiles, setting yours and his plate down on the table as you come and set the glasses down.

harry makes it so damn hard to hate him sometimes. the fact that he remembers the little things has you in awe. but no, not right now y/n.

“mhm, i’ll call in to get those refilled.” you lie through your teeth, acting as if the allergies were the reason for your current state, “thanks for breakfast by the way, y’didn’t have to. my fault for waking up later than usual.” you say sitting down.

harry sitting across from you, senses a different feel to how you were yesterday. you seem a bit off now, and you were never like this in the mornings. he supposes you did have a late night and filled with allergies bothering you, so you’re probably not in the best mood.

he shrugs it off, “no need, i overstayed my visit on accident, and its the least i can do after you helped me with my little uh, situation,” harry giggles, sticking a strawberry in his mouth.

you give him a glare as he looks down. his situation he says. you wanted to laugh in his face.

it’s a silent breakfast from there. harry in his own thoughts thinking about last night. oh, how much he missed you. how much he wanted to cuddle with you. be sleeping in bed with you. waking up to your face. soft kisses throughout. he misses it so much. he senses and hopes you miss him too. he had a good feeling last night. and that’s when he decides he needs to say something. if he doesn’t speak now, he never will. now’s the perfect time. after his tour and new album, he’ll be taking a break. a break from everything. a break to spend time with family, friends, live privately, and hopefully settle down with you. now’s the perfect time to reconcile with you and put the offer out on the table.

“..so,” harry begins. you look up and see harry putting his utensils down, wiping his mouth with a napkin, getting ready to speak. “after the tour ends, i’ll be releasing my album, do some promo for that, and then i’ll be on a hiatus..for however long i’d want it to be..”

you can’t just have all feelings for him disappear in less than 24 hours. so when he said that, you can’t lie to yourself and not feel some happiness. yet, he still better not say what you think he’s gonna say. you’re still mad at him y/n. don’t do this to yourself.

“so what are you saying..” you hum.

“god y/n, you know what i’m about to say.” harry purses his lips and looks you in the eye, hands reaching out for yours, “i’m ready to settle down with you, if you’d have me back that is.” he says with a little smile and gleaming eyes.

the days prior from yesterday of you finding out, you would’ve have said yes. you would have breathed out a finally, and had a sense of relief.

but now it’s going to be a different outcome. he took advantage of your kindness and you giving him advice. he took advantage of your time. maybe dramatic, but that’s how you see it.

you’re mad. that slight happiness you got when he said he was taking a break is gone.

“s’not even like we have to be boyfriend and girlfriend for another period of time! we can go straight to fiancés! we already have trust in each other, i mean we only broke up because of my work. nothing else was to be fixed in the relationship! i’ll put a ring on it right now if i have’ta!”

harry rambling, saying some bullshit about trust, causes you to interrupt him, “harry-“ he still rambles but now about having kids. “stop.” you say, voice grew a little louder and more stern.

harry pauses, wide-eyed. sure he didn’t know how you were even feeling about this, but he was sure the love you two have was still there.

“trust?” you laugh in disbelief. “first off, you’re acting like we took a break. a halt in our relationship until you were ready to settle down. you should know that’s not the case. i’ve been patient throughout our relationship far too long for me to be waiting around on your terms.”

“y/n i-“ he interrupts.

“no, i’m talking. this whole ‘trust’ thing is gone. i’m sorry but last night i woke up in the living room to a text notification. i assumed it was my phone, and since we have the same phone cases, i happened to pick yours up and saw a text from who’s supposed to be your ‘pr stunt’? she’s wanting to hook up with you? again? jesus harry, you should know why i’m mad and upset that you’re saying you want me now. even before you said all this, right after seeing that text, i was mad because you lied to me. look, you of course didn’t have to share that you were intimate with her; but don’t make it seem as if you’re not into her at all. and making it seem like it’s the poor girl’s fault. acting as if she’s a nuisance wanting to be intimate or affectionate, cause clearly you wanted her as well.” you end your speech with a sigh, shaking your head. you take a sip of water, mouth dry from the little speech you said. you wait for him to come up with whatever amusing thing he can say to make it not sound as bad as it is.

harry’s startled. doesn’t know what to say. he saw the text when he woke up, but he told her that it wasn’t for him anymore, that he just wanted you, and it was nice in the moment, but they are after all, strictly just business buddies with a platonic friendship. she understood, she seemed a bit mad, but harry didn’t care. he just wanted to make sure there’s nothing in his way to get you back, and that those hookups he had with her were in the past. he’s going to try to fix this.

you speak up again in a calmer tone, “you didn’t care about my feelings,”

his face turns red. nerves rattling him.

“y/n i feel awful about it, know what i mean i-“

you cut him off. “you made me look really dumb, harry.” you say while lightly nodding your head in order to get him to understand.

he begins to speak again. “look i’ll be honest. i should’ve mentioned it yesterday, and m’sorry for that. i will admit, there was a physical attraction with her at the beginning of everything, and since we were broken up-“

you correct him, “are, broken up.”

his heart hurts when you say that, he nods, “yes, are broken up, i didn’t want to live with any regrets. i felt it was better to just experiment and to take advantage of being in the stunt, seeing if there’s a spark,” he takes a breath. “i would’ve regretted if i didn’t and it was better to do it at the time because i didn’t know if you would even take me back once i came home,” he keeps fidgeting with his feet under the table, nervous on what your response will be; but hopefully understanding. because you always were.

wrong. boy was he wrong.

“so..you still did it with the intention of coming back home, hoping to get back with me?” you caught him. “harry..what are you even saying?”

he gulped. fuck. this looks bad. he didn’t think things through, he thought. “look, you didn’t feel anything rushing back last night? everything that we had, and built together?” face even more red.

“yeah and then today..you slapped me across the face with a lie and embarrassed me.” you spat. “what’s wrong with you? you don’t have any respect for me.” shaking your head in disappointment. “and its such a let down considering if you hadn’t hooked up with her, i would’ve hopped right into your arms right when you said you wanted to settle.”

he regrets everything and anything right when you said those words. why did he hook up with her? god did he really think y/n was going to just be waiting around? of course he thought so. he always did. and that’s why you two were broken up.

he sighed, shaking his head as well, as he’s disappointed in himself. he was about to speak, but you beat him to it. “i’m not mad that you hooked up with her, i’m mad that you don’t have any respect for me. i’m mad about your intentions behind it. and the fact that you lied to me making it seem like olivia is the bad guy saying, ‘s’like she enjoys it!’” you repeat his words he said to last night, when he made it seem like he wasn’t into her. “and just the fact that i gave you meaningful advice because i care about you, once again, you embarrassed me. i feel dumb, harry.”

he feels dumb too.

you still didn’t let him speak, instead, you let him leave.

“something needs to change, harry. until then, please leave.” you say, getting up from the table walking hurriedly upstairs, eyes beginning to water, but you feeling satisfied that you listened to your own advice you gave to harry: stand your ground.

-

a/n: man really thought y/n would be waiting around for her. smh.

hope you guys enjoyed this part!! still deciding on whether to make a part 3 or not! don’t really know which way i want to go about it.

[weelittleweasley]

safe and sound (f.w.)

prompt: after getting caught in the rain and chased by death eater, you stumble upon a house and look for a safe haven inside. little did you know who would be waiting for you in that house.

pairings: fred weasley x fem! reader

warnings: running away, mentions of death, mentions of war, language, anxiety, sexual tension (of course), food, some classic longing stares, don’t worry it’s a fluffy ending 

word count: 9.7k (its so long im sorry)

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley @sweeterthansammy @loonylovegood13​ @gryffindcrghost​ @wand3ringr0s3 @valwritesx 

The engine of your car roared as rain slapped against the windshield, your chest heaving with fear, constantly checking your rear view mirror, pressing down on the gas as hard as you could. You whispered tiny prayers, hoping that you were going fast enough to outrun whoever was chasing you. Looking at the speedometer, you see that it slowly climbs to 85 miles an hour, then 90, then 95 as you search the dirt roads ahead of you for a clearing or any sign of life. “Please, please, please, please,” you whisper to yourself as you continue to speed through the English countryside, thunder rumbling behind you as the speedometer climbs and climbs. 

With each flash of lightning you jump a little in your own skin, mistaking it for the flash from someone’s wand, casting a hex on you. But you remind yourself that you must be miles and miles away from them and that you were safe. For now at least.

You continue to scan your surroundings, not recognizing where you were, the rain blurring your view outside. Regardless, you continue to drive, straight down the road, until you reached some place that looked like it had life. 

But your car had other plans. As you slammed your foot on the gas, there was a screeching sounds, and then a rumbling boom, before smoke started to appear from the front of the car. “Oh, come on! Not now!” you yell out in frustration, pushing your foot on the gas harder, hoping that the action would keep the car going. But much to your dismay, the car came to a simmering halt as you threw your head back with a groan. With the little life it had left, you pulled the car to the side of the road and put it in park, even though that would change a thing. The car was dead.

You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to think of something. You were stranded in the middle of nowhere, with just your wand, a small bag of your belongings, and dead car with half a tank of petrol. “Fuck,” you curse slamming your hands down on the wheel. 

Through the rain, you try to scan your surroundings again. The nearest town was still some ways away and you had no way of contacting anyone. Your best bet was to wait out here in the car until morning when the rain would hopefully stop and you could walk to the nearest town and get some help. “Bloody brilliant,” you huff, zipping up your jumper, folding your arms. 

As you lean in the driver’s seat, you try not to focus on the events that had precipitated previously; the thought was far too terrifying for you. Instead, you focused on the raindrops that streamed down your car window, as you pit one raindrop against another, making them race down the glass. 

But as you watch the raindrops fall, through the rain, in the distance, you can almost make out a small building. A house. Through the brush and the trees was a small home, the windows illuminated meaning there was a sign of life. “Thank Merlin,” you whisper to yourself as you unbuckle your seatbelt. 

You flip up your hood, trying to protect yourself from the rain, but to no avail. When you step outside of the car door, you are saturated in an instant, the cold and unforgiving rain soaking your jeans and jumper, dampening your hair through your hood. “Shit,” you huff as you start to take up a light jog, hoping and praying that the company in the small house was welcoming.

---

“I need another bucket!” Ron calls out as he stands under another leak in the Burrow, holding a small mug up to catch the dripping water. Ginny runs to the kitchen and grabs another bucket under the sink before handing it off to Ron. He places it on the floor before scurrying off the previous leaks that seem to appear throughout the Burrow. “Gin, can you take care of the leak on the second floor?” Ron calls out to which Ginny replies an On it! before scurrying up the stairs.

Molly Weasley is scrambling throughout the house before plucking her band from her dressing robe, “Reparo!” she casts as the roof seems to mend itself. She casts it a few more times around the house with a frustrated sigh each time. “That should hold us over for a while now. But keep the buckets there in case the leak starts again,” she tells Ron with a kiss on the forehead. 

“The attic seems to be fine!” George calls from the top of the stairs. “No water damage and no leaks inside. Can’t speak for the rest of the place,” he shrugs as he descends the stairs, Fred following not too far behind. 

Molly sighs, “Well, that’s the best we can ask for right now. One of you go help your father in the shed. He says there’s a tarp in there that we can lay out in case the storm gets worse.” With a curt nod, Percy starts outside to help Arthur out in the shed. The rest of the Weasleys flop on the couch with a huff. 

Storms like this always brought more bad than good. It did wonders for Molly’s garden, but as for the infrastructure of their house not so much. The Burrow was old and needed some renovations, but money was tight. Instead, simple fixes here and there did the trick during stormy weather. 

Ginny helps her mother light more candles around the house before heading over to the fireplace to get a fire going to warm the house. Ron shivers a little before running up to his room to grab a jumper to keep him warm. Fred looks over at George, mischief in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. George looks at his brother before picking up on his wave length. A stormy day always made for the most interesting quidditch matches. 

The twins rise from the couch, grabbing their coats before Molly interrupts, “And where do you two think you’re off to?”

Fred, without looking at his mother, speaks, “The weather is perfect for a quidditch match. Great practice. Reckon you’ll join, Gin?” Fred asks the youngest Weasley as she looks at him with excited eyes.

“None of you lot with be playing quidditch in this weather!” Molly exclaims with a firm tone and folded arms. Ginny looks at her mother with pleading eyes to which she brushes off. “The weather is wicked outside!”

George laughs, “Yeah, wicked for playing quidditch.” Fred joins in on the laughter, offering his twin a high five with his accepts.

“If you two disobey me, you’ll be in a wicked amount of trouble. Now put your coats down and help me start the fire. Fred, go fetch the old newspaper. George, get the wood from upstairs. We need to warm this place up before we all freeze to death,” she huffs as George and Fred reluctantly take off their coats with a groan. Yet they still obey their mother. 

George looks over to his twin, “You shouldn’t have told her we were playing quidditch. You should have made up something.”

Fred scoffs, “And said what? We’re replanting the peonies?” George rolls his eyes. “That’s what I thought. Now go get the fire wood like you’re told,” he teases his twin, earning him a slap upside the head. “Wanker.”

George disappears upstairs as Fred goes into the kitchen and grabs the old newspapers from the dining room table. Page by page he rips them into small pieces, crumpling them up, creating a fire starter. 

Suddenly, a great rumble of thunder comes from outside, startling the house Weasley family. They all quickly laugh it off with a shake of their heads. The storms were brutal in the summer months. But there it was again, another sound. But not quite thunder.

“Was that thunder?” Ron asks, crouched down by the fire place, helping George throw in the logs. 

Fred shakes his head. “No,” he listens closely again before it sounds again. Four bangs on the front door. Fred looks to his brothers and sister and speaks, “I thought Harry and Hermione were coming next week?”

“They are,” Ron answers with a puzzled look on his face.

Again, four more bangs on the front door, but now followed by a, “Is anyone home?”

Everyone’s eyes are wide with confusion. They expected no visitors, especially during a storm. But this only peaked their interest as to who was at the Burrow’s door at this time of night during a summer storm. Without much hesitation, Fred walks to the front door and swings it open.

In front, there you were. Body and clothes completely soaked with rain, shivering from the cold, lips purple and teeth chattering as you clung onto your thing jumper. Your hair was matted down with rain as droplets cascaded down your face as you looked at the tall, ginger haired boy in front of you. If you weren’t freezing your ass off, you would have stared at the handsome boy longer. But too consumed with the cold, you speak, “I need h-help.” Your words are shaky from your clattering teeth.

Fred looks at you, completely enthralled with the being in front of him. How could someone look so divine when drenched in rain water? Your lips were pressed together and shivered in your lavender jumper that matched the color of your lips. Small droplets of water fell from your hair and onto your feet as you sniffled. The sight was oddly charming. He snapped out of his thoughts and called out, “Mum!! We’ve got company!!” With a small smile, he opened the door further and welcomed you into the house as you sighed. “Come on then.”

You let out a breathy “thank you” as you entered the house, which wasn’t much warmer than outside, but it was better than being in the freezing rain. You stand in the middle of the house, a shivering, wet mess as you feel all eyes on you. Fred instructs Ron to get the fire started as he looks over to you, “How long have you been in the rain?”

“Uh, not long. I was in my car and then it broke down and I saw your house, so I ran over. Maybe ten minutes,” you shrug as the house slowly descends into madness, trying to help you out.

“Ten minutes too long,” Fred huffs with a smile before looking over at his mother. “She’s been walking in the rain. She needs to get warm,” Fred tells Molly whose face is painted with worry even though she didn’t know who you were. 

Molly rushes over to you and places her hands on your shoulders. “Oh, my dear! You’re frigid! Fred, start a kettle of tea! George, grab the quits from your room! Ron, is that fire ready?” she starts tossing orders out as her children comply, darting in all different directions. Molly guides you towards the living room where the fire was, placing you directly in front. “You poor thing. Where are you coming from?” she asks, rubbing your arms. “Here, give me that saturated jumper. Ginny, go fetch one of your jumpers to give...what’s your name, dear?”

You smile at the sweet woman and speak, “(Y/N).”

Molly smiles, “(Y/N). Go fetch (Y/N) a jumper.” Ginny darts off to her room as you sit in front of the fire, the heat already radiating making you feel much better. “My name is Molly, dear. That’s Ginny who ran off, this is Ron, and in the kitchen are Fred and George. My husband, Arthur, and other son, Percy, are in the shed, but they should be in in any minute.”

You furrow your brows as you look at Molly and then around at your surroundings at the people around you. Red hair. Small house. Molly. Arthur. Many siblings. They must be the-

“(Y/N)?” a voice calls from the other room in the door frame.

You look over and there Percy stands, a familiar face with matted curly red hair, wet from the rain. “Percy! Hi!” you smile as Percy walks over to you with a small smile before giving you a light hug. 

He laughs, “What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be with Alyssa for the weekend?” 

From behind you a voice speaks, “Wait, I’m confused. How do you two know each other?” Ron looks between you and Percy confused as to how you recognized each other.

Percy speaks for you, “(Y/N)’s family works in the ministry. (Y/N) works as one of the assistants. Her father has high rankings with the ministry.” You smile up at Percy. It was true. Your family was heavily involved with the ministry, specifically with the regulation and control of magical creatures. That’s why you never really ended up going to school. You were guaranteed a job when you were born. Sometimes being at the ministry 24/7 was boring, but when you met Percy, it was a change of pace. Someone close in age to you and a new face to talk to. The two of you became fast friends. “We’ve been co-workers for sometime now.”

You look up at Percy and sigh, “I was with Alyssa. But, um,” you gulp, heart racing at the memory. “Something happened.” Percy gives you an inquisitive look as you look around you, now all of the Weasley’s eyes interested in what you had to say. So much for some privacy. “Alyssa’s father...he...got himself mixed with some of the wrong people...” you trail off as Percy sighs. “Lucius Malfoy decided to pay us a visit and...he killed him. Alyssa and I and her mother and sisters made it out in time, but we got separated. She just yelled at me to drive and...” you start becoming overwhelmed with the images of what had happened and tears start trailing down your face as a small sob escapes your lips as you quickly cover it.

Percy places a hand on your shoulder and rubs your back with a sad smile. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers as you pull yourself together with a deep breath. “You’re safe here. I promise that. Mum will take good care of you. We all will,” Percy gives you a small smile and for some reason, that makes you feel relaxed. Looking around at the people in the room, you feel comforted and safe. Something you needed after today. 

Coming back was Ginny with a fresh jumper. She gave you a good look and said, “You know what? Just come up to my room actually. You can wear some of my clothes and get out of those wet ones, yeah?” she offers you a kind smile and her hand as you gladly accept, following her up to her room.

As you disappear up the stairs, Fred watches you with a small smile on his lips. Molly and Arthur occupy themselves with talk about where you would sleep for the night and how they would reconfigure sleeping arrangements. George and Ron start fighting about how the fire isn’t big enough. But Fred just can’t stop watching you go up and up and up the stairs.

He clears his throat and then speaks, “Perc...hey.” Percy walks over to his brother. “This (Y/N) girl...she didn’t go to Hogwarts...did she?” he asks.

Percy shakes his head, “No. She’s been studying under her father since she was born practically. She’s a great person. Really funny, really smart, and damn good at her job,” he explains to Fred, who clings onto every last word. Fred didn’t know what it was, but there was something about you that just drew him in. And he wanted to know every thing there was to know about you. Percy quickly recognizes the look in his brother’s eyes and says, “Don’t get any ideas, Fred. Come on, she’s my friend.”

Fred shrugs, “So. Does she have a partner?” Percy sighs. “Great. So she’s available,” he wiggles his eyebrows as Percy slaps his arm. “I’m not gonna make a move on her, Percy! Godric...not yet at least.” But before Percy can slap him again, Fred is running away in the other room to join his twin and younger brother on the floor.

Practically jumping on George, Fred smothers his brother as George groans, “Would you get off of me, git?” Fred laughs before taking a seat next to him. “What’s got you so excited?” George looks at his twin before instantly realizing the change in his mood. “Good Godric, really? You fancy the girl? Merlin, Fred, she just got here and she’s clearly in distress over what she saw today!” George whisper yells at Fred who is too happy to care about what his brother scolds him over. 

He simply speaks, “I don’t plan on jumping on the girl tonight, George. I just am looking to get to know her better.”

“Before you jump on her,” Ron speaks, making George laugh as Fred slaps his younger brother upside the head.

“Hey! Who said I was doing to do any of that!” he defends himself. “I think she’s beautiful. I don’t know. There’s something about her that I...just can’t put my finger on. I don’t know. I just wanna get to know her better. Alright? Can you live with that?” Fred speaks to his brothers as they look at each other knowingly. 

But before Fred can defend himself further, you are back in the room, changed into fresh clothes from Ginny. You pull the jumper down more, covering your midriff as you sit back down on the floor in front of the fire with Ginny, you and her making light conversation. And the while, Fred steals little glances here and there. 

“So, you didn’t go to Hogwarts, but you learned under your father?” Ginny asks as you nod happily.

There was a part of you that felt like you really missed out on an experience. Not attending Hogwarts was a choice that your parents made without your input and you wished every day that you had spoken up and told them that you wanted to go. But instead, they argued that learning directly under your father would be a better education and whatever you didn’t learn, you could easily pick up with some help from your father, your mother, or any of their friends in the ministry. Other than that, you had a relatively happy childhood, working with magical creatures daily, running around the different departments with other children you could find. Life was good, until trouble started to appear in spurts.

You reply, “Yeah. When he steps down from his position, I’ll be there to take it over. It’s what I’ve been working towards my whole life.” When you spoke the sentence, it stung. It wasn’t like you had a choice. Your future was set out for you since the day you were born. 

Ginny smiles, “That’s really cool though. You don’t need to work about OWLs or NEWTs or any exams. Sounds pretty sweet.” You give her a weak laugh. Pretty sweet. 

Molly comes back in the room, a small cup of tea in her hands. “Black tea, cream, no sugar,” she coos. “Percy told me how you take it,” she winks as you smile and thank her graciously. “I’m glad to see that you’re in warm clothes now. For tonight, and I hope you don’t mind, you’ll spend the night in Fred and George’s room. George will spend the night in Ron’s room and Fred will sleep on the couch down here, so you’ll have some privacy,” Molly speaks with a smile.

You look around the room, “Oh! I can take the couch! Really! I don’t want to kick anyone out of their room!” you tell the group as they all give you small smiles.

“Nonsense!” Molly smiles. “A guest deserves to sleep on a proper bed. Besides this is just for tonight. Tomorrow morning, Arthur and Percy will get the extra mattress from the attic and bring it down into Ginny’s room.” You shake your head and profusely thank the twins for giving up their room and the both of them just smile while Fred drops his left eye into a wink, making your heart flutter in your chest. “You can stay here as long as you need, dear. We can find someone to come in and fix your car.”

But before you can protest, Fred speaks up, “Actually, no need to call someone, Mum. George and I fixed the flying Ford Anglia, I’m sure we can fix some muggle car.”

“What the bloody hell are you on about, we ne-”

Fred nudges George in the stomach, making him double over with an oof, as Fred smiles and continues, “We’ll have it repaired in no time.”

You look over at Fred with curious eyes and a small smile. There was something about him that just was so magnetic. His brown eyes, tufts of messy red hair, loose t-shirt that clung onto his arm muscles that flexed so gently underneath the green fabric. Just his smile was enough to have you captivated for eons. “Thanks,” you simply state with a smile and he nods. “Um,” you break away from his gaze. “I’ll, uh, get ready for bed then, I guess. It’s quite late.”

You rise from the floor and scurry up the stares, feeling eyes on you, and for some reason, you hoped that Fred was one of them.

-------

It was two in the morning and the whole house was dead asleep. Except for you. Each time you closed your eyes, you felt the feelings and panic from hours before. Your heart thumped in your chest as you toss and turned in your sleep, an unsettled feeling wrestling in your stomach. 

Giving up, you sit straight up and huff, hearing the clock tick insistently on the wall, mocking you. You roll your eyes and swing your legs over the unfamiliar bed and rub your face. Standing up from the bed, you start to slug over to the door and down the stairs, trying to see if maybe a change of scenery would do you some good. 

When you walk down the stairs, you are careful to be quiet, not to wake up Fred. But lucky for you, he was wide awake, sitting on the floor in front of the fire place that was mere glowing embers. Fred turns and looks at you, a small smile dancing on his lips when he sees you. “Didn’t think you would be up,” you smile at him before taking a seat next to him on the floor, him scooting over so you could enjoy the residual warmth from the fire. 

Fred shrugs, “Couch isn’t super comfortable. The springs are digging into my back.”

You give him a sorry smile. “I’m sorry that I took your room for the night. I told you that I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. Not too late to take me up on my offer...” you give him a joking nudge, earning a light chuckle from one half of the Weasley twins.

“Very kind of you, but you take the room. I don’t mind sharing. Especially if it’s with a pretty girl,” he flirts as you feet heat rise to your cheeks, turning away from him so he couldn’t see your small smile. But Fred knows and that’s only earned him a proud feeling in his chest. “So,” he starts. “You’re friends with my dork brother, eh?” 

You lightly laugh, “He’s not a dork. Percy has been a really great friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him.” Fred gives you a small smile. “Truly. He’s really been my best mate.”

Fred wiggles his brows, teasing you. “Best mates, eh?” He bumps his shoulder into you as you giggle and roll your eyes. 

“Percy and I are just friends, come on,” you give him a playful shove. Fred smiles and shakes his head as you feel suddenly confident, a flirtatious comment falling off of your lips. “If we were, do you think I’d be down here talking to his cute brother?”

The comment makes Fred look at you, at first with wide eyes which eventually fades into a little smirk with ruby red cheeks. He chuckles, “Touché.” 

You and Fred sit next to the fire and continue to make conversation, talking about you, your life back home, and Fred and the joke shoppe. The more you talk to him the more you realize how easily conversation flowed between the two of you. Talking with Fred was like breathing; you didn’t need to think about it, it just happened so effortlessly. He made you laugh until you clutched your sides, doubled over in pain, which made his heart swell. Your laugh sounding like a beautiful melody of a familiar tune, something he could never grow tired of hearing.

“The shoppe really is a dream come true,” Fred smiles to himself as he watches the fire dwindle down. “It’s what George and I have always wanted our whole lives.” Watching Fred talk about the joke shoppe and seeing all the joy and passion behind his eyes was like watching fireworks. Captivating. The way he spoke about running his own business with his best mate and brother made a smile creep its way onto your face. “I can only imagine it’s the same way you feel about taking over your father’s position,” Fred looks to you with a hopeful smile as you gulp thickly.

You shrug, “Yeah. You can say that.” You wished you sounded more enthusiastic, but truth of the matter was you had no passion behind what you did. Sure, growing up you dreamed of taking over your father’s position and becoming head of the department. But as you grew up, you took up other interests and hobbies that outgrew your love of magical creatures. 

Fred instantly noticed your change in tone and twisted his eyebrows together. “That’s not a very convincing answer,” he laughs as you lightly chuckle. “You don’t want to take over his position?”

With a sigh, you rub your hands over your face. “I do, but...I don’t?” you look at him, wrapping your arms around your knees, bringing them close to your chest. You turn towards Fred and start, “I mean, my whole future was planned out for me when I was born. First born takes over the position. I’m first born so everything has been etched in stone for me. I love my family and what they do and I’ve always been passionate about it...but somethings missing, you know? As I grew up, I took different interests and now...I don’t know if I want to be in that position. I don’t want to be a part of the ministry anymore.” The confession was a lot to dump onto Fred, but for some reason you felt like he would understand. That he would listen to you. “I’m sorry that was a lot to unload.”

“Don’t apologize,” Fred smiles at you, placing a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it gently, making your heart race at the simple touch. Fred turns to face you, knees brushing against each other as you nibble on the inside of your cheek. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you want to do with your life?”

A small smile appears on your face. “I want to own a book shoppe. I know it sounds dorky, but I want to own my own book store with every book in the world. Fantasy, mythology, history, science, maths, everything under the sun. I want people to come in and read and sit and learn new things,” you light up at the thought of having a place to call your own. “I regret every day not getting the ‘real school’ experience, but in a weird way, I think owning a book store would make up for it?” you lightly laugh as Fred stares at you with a dreamy smile on his face.

The way you spoke about books and people and learning was unlike anything he had ever seen. You completely lit up like a Christmas tree and Fred was smitten. “You want to know my opinion?” Fred asks as you nod. “I think...you should leave the ministry and open up your own bookstore,” he tells you as you lightly laugh. “I’m serious. You don’t have half the passion for the ministry like you do for the bookstore. This is your dream. You should follow it.”

“Okay, but opening a bookstore requires money and investors and actually getting books. I don’t have nearly enough,” you sigh as a mischievous smile appears on Fred’s face. “Uh oh. I don’t like that smile.”

Fred laughs, “It’s a good smile, don’t worry. What if...George and I were your first investors. I mean, the joke shoppe is booming and we have the money to invest in a small business.”

You start shaking your head. He was being overly generous for someone you just met today. “Oh, Fred, I couldn’t ask you to do that. That’s you and George’s money and-”

“And I want to use it where I see fit. And I think your business proposal is very promising,” Fred tells you with a small smirk as you sigh, heart fluttering at the way his face is illuminated by the embers of the fire place. “Sleep on it. I don’t need an answer right now. But you should think about it, (Y/N).”

You smile softly, playing with the cuffs of Ginny’s maroon jumper, heart thumping your chest. Slowly, you look up at Fred and his eyes are glued on yours, a soft smile on his pink lips. The two of you don’t say a word, just sat there, looking at one another, taking each other in as the fire crackles, the faint smell of burnt wood filling your senses. In this moment, Fred looked like someone you had known your whole life. Like you were supposed to be here, looking at him right now. You can feel his knee brush against you again, making the hairs on your arms stand up, goosebumps erupting along your skin as you inhale sharply. 

Clearing your throat, you start to stand up. “I should probably get back to bed,” you interrupt the moment as Fred follows suit.

“Yeah, uh, you’re right. I gotta get up early anyway to start fixing your car,” Fred scratches the back of his neck as you make your way back to the stairs. “Goodnight, (Y/N). Sweet dreams.”

You stop on the third step and smile shyly at Fred. “Goodnight, Fred. Sweet dreams,” you repeat before walking up the stairs, a bright grin etched on your face.

----------

Two days have past since you arrived at the Weasleys. Morning comes quickly, day light streaming in through the window as you wake with a large stretch. You rub your eyes and look at the clock on the wall, the hands pointing to 10:13am. You had slept in later than expected, but maybe that’s what you needed. Slowly, you peel yourself from the bed and make your way downstairs, the hustle and bustle of the Weasley house in full swing. Ginny, Percy, and Ron are at the table, eating toast and eggs. “Look who decided to join the land of the living,” Percy teases as you smile with a groggy hey. “You hungry? Mum made enough eggs and toast to feed every fifth year at Hogwarts,” Percy laughs as you take a seat next to him, accepting a full plate of eggs, buttered toast, and a cup of tea the way you like it.

“Thank you, Molly,” you smile at the woman who places dirty dishes and pans in the sink as the magically begin to wash themselves.

She sends you a sweet smile and a wink, “Don’t mention it, dearest. Eat up. If you’re still hungry, there’s plenty more in the fridge.” 

As you start to eat, Ginny and Ron start to talk about the plans for the day, talking of maybe playing a quidditch match in the yard, Ginny entertains the idea of taking a trip to Diagon Alley, Ron going back and forth if he should visit Hermione or not. Percy just states he’ll be doing work from his room as you roll your eyes, nudging him lightly at how studious he was. You scan the table and the living room to see no Fred or George. They couldn’t be sleeping still, Fred wasn’t on the couch and Ron’s room was empty when you passed it. “Where are the twins?” you ask Percy as you bite into your toast.

“Outside fixing your car. Fred’s been working on it since Mum woke up. And she gets up early,” Percy emphasizes as you laugh. “George should be out there too or he’s in the shed looking for spare parts,” Percy sips his black coffee.

You nod and finish munching on your toast and eggs before rising from the table, placing your dish in the sink, and making your way outside to see what was going on. 

As you step outside, the warm sun engulfs you as you realize just how hot it was. Not the weather for Ginny’s heavy jumper that you slept in. But before you can complain about the heat, your eyes stumble on a sight that made you feel weak in the knees. 

You gulp thickly as you mouth run dry as the desert. Fred is leaning over the hood of your car, arms flexed as he tightens knobs on the engine, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Surrendering to the August heat, Fred pulls his shirt over his head to reveal his toned back muscles that glisten with summer sweat. He runs his grease covered hands through his hair, sweeping it back, his biceps flexing before he returns to his position covering over the car, grunting as he uses his strength to tighten and fix the bolts. His pants hang low on his waist as the tops of his boxers peak out from the material, making you inhale deeply. It felt so wrong to look at him, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the toned man in front of you. 

Finally snapping yourself out of your trance, you clear your throat, making your presence known. Fred turns towards you and a smile immediately forms on his lips. “Working hard or hardly working,” you tease him as you walk towards the car, leaning against him as Fred chuckles.

“Well, I’ve been up since six in the morning trying to fix this thing with no avail. So maybe the latter is more fitting,” he jokes as you smile. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Just fine,” you shrug before saying, “Um, thanks for staying up and talking with me for a bit the other night. It was nice.”

Fred smiles and folds his arms across his chest, your eyes darting down quickly to watch how his strong arms flexed over his toned chest, making you stomach do a flip. “Yeah, of course. You make great company,” he winks at you as you can’t help but giggle at his flirtatious remark. “Anyway, have you thought about my proposal?” he ask, raising his eyebrows and leaning over the hood of the car, closer to you as your heart stops at how close he was to you in this moment, mind drawing blank as your eyes scan over his naked top half. Fred notices your stare and he smirks, “Cat got your tongue, darling?” he coos.

But before you can speak, a voice interrupts, “Fred, would you quite harassing the guest?” You turn around to see George making his way back with a tool box and a wrench that he tosses to Fred who catches it with ease. “Morning, (Y/N),” George beams as you smile at him. “If my brother will stop flirting with you, hopefully we’ll get the car fixed by tonight.”

You chuckle as Fred rolls his eyes, continuing to work on the engine as you pry yourself from the car. “I appreciate it a lot. Taking the time out of your day to fix the car,” you tell the twins as they both smile and say it was no problem. “I’ll, uh, I’ll catch up with you two later,” you walk backwards back to the house before leaving the twins alone to fix the car as a smile lingers on your lips.

Fred watches you walk away, disappearing back into the house, his mind fixating on the way you looked in that jumper and sleep shorts, going to places where he shouldn’t really be thinking about. George punches Fred’s arm and snaps him out of his daydream. “Are you kidding, mate?” George laughs. “Come on.”

Fred groans, “I can’t stop thinking about her, George.” George rolls his eyes and shoves Fred out of the way, taking a look at the engine of the car. “We talked the other night for hours. She’s smart, and she’s funny, and bloody hell, she’s fucking gorgeous,” Fred huffs, running his fingers through his hair at the thought of you. He had just met you two days ago and you were already the first and last thing on Fred’s mind when he woke up and went to bed. “And I know there’s something there, mate. It’s just...awkward since we’re around everyone all the time,” Fred explains. “But I like her, George.”

George looks at his brother, giving him a look before realizing the sincerity behind his eyes and hopeful smile on his lips. George sighs and speaks, “Alright then. I’d say go for it, mate. If you think that there’s potential, what’s holding you back?” 

“Her life,” he breathes out as he leans against the car. “She works for the ministry. That’s where her life is, but she hates it. She told me that she wants to break away and move and open her own bookstore. (Y/N) wants a different life, but her obligations are holding her back,” Fred explains to George to tightens a bolt on the engine before looking up at his brother with a face that reads And? “I want to help her,” Fred speaks. “And not because I have a crush on her. Because she deserves it. After everything she’s been through, I want to help her live her dream,” he tells George who folds his arms over his chest. “Our dream came true and if we didn’t have help from Harry, who knows if and when our business would have taken off. The same can be said for (Y/N) and her dream.”

George goes back and forth as Fred anticipates a positive answer from his twin. With a sigh, George says, “Alright. Let’s do it. But under one condition!” Fred furrows his brows. “Don’t be doing this just because you fancy her. You really want to help her, right?” he clarifies.

Fred smiles gently, thinking about you and how happy you would be to receive the news that your dream is becoming a reality. “More than anything. She deserves it,” Fred speaks quietly as George smiles at his brother.

------

Night had rolled around just as quickly as the morning came and you were sat on the floor of Ginny’s room on the mattress as everyone got ready for bed. In your hands, a letter from Alyssa, that an owl had brought in just minutes ago. She was safe, thank Merlin, back in London, waiting for your arrival. But the thought of leaving the Weasleys now, when you were just getting to know everyone, made your chest feel tight with sadness. Getting to know your mate’s family was enjoyable, especially with this newfound connection with Fred. Leaving now would just screw things up. 

But you had duties to attend. The ministry, your family, Alyssa. You needed to get things back on track before staying here caused them to derail yet again. 

You hear footsteps coming from down the hall as you fold the parchment and tuck it in your waistband of your shorts as you rise from the mattress. Instead of Ginny appearing in the door way like you expected, it was a freshly showered Fred in his pajama bottoms and an old white t-shirt that was just thin enough so you could see the outlines of his toned torso. His lifts his hands up so he can hang on the door frame, his eyes tracing you up and down quickly. You smile gently, “You fix my car, Weasley?”

He chuckles, “Come take a look for yourself.”

The two of you start down the stairs, leaving the rest of the Weasley family behind as you made your way outside. The summer night is mild, the sounds of crickets fill the air, and the breeze smells of grass and dew. Fred runs over to your car that’s a few feet away from the back of the house and jumps into the driver’s seat, putting the key in the ignition, and the engine roars. You smile and clap your hands, a job well done. Fred hops back out as you sit yourself on the hood of the car, facing him. “Nicely done,” you compliment him as he pretends to tip his hat to you. “So, how long did it take you two to realize that there was a spell for fixing the car engine?” you reveal as Fred’s eyes widen.

“You knew this whole time and yet you made us work in the bloody heat?!” he exclaims with a small smile on your face as you laugh out loud, throwing your head back and clutch your sides. “You’re a monster!” he teases, slightly shoving your arm.

You laugh, “Come on, you had to admit it was funny. Ron starting placing bets on who would figure it out first. Molly even joined in at one point.” Fred scoffs and rolls his eyes. “But still...a job well done. Thank you. I’ll have to think of a way to repay you.”

Fred gives you a look and speaks, “I have a few things in mind...” Your heart starts beating quicker as your mouth becomes dry as Fred moves to stand in between your legs, hands on either side of you on the car. “First of them being,” he starts, “Move to London and start your own business.”

Part of you is disappointed with the request, wanting something else from the fire haired boy, but you sigh, “Fred, you know I ca-”

“George and I spoke this morning. We both want to help you get you on your feet, so we’re investing in your bookstore,” he gushes as you look at him with wide eyes. “There is an available building across the street from the joke shoppe. With your consent, we’ll put the down payment on it tomorrow and the shoppe is all yours. When business is booming, you can pay us back. But until then, the store is all yours. Ready to go when you are,” Fred tells you.

You are completely overwhelmed with the news and can’t wrap your mind around why they were doing this. Why you? You were speechless. “Fred, I-” you stutter. “I don’t know what to say...thank you...this is...I don’t know how to describe it, but I don’t kn-”

“You don’t have to thank me or George. We wanted to do this. Seeing you talk about how passionate you were made me want to help you out. It reminded me of when George and I were dreaming of starting a business. We wanted to help someone who we saw potential in. Or I saw potential in,” Fred tells you, scratching his neck, nervously looking down as your heart swelled. “And since you’re across the street from the shoppe, that means we can see each other more often,” he says. “If you want that is. It’s also a good way for Percy to come see you too if you prefer that over seeing me or George, you know. I don’t want to assume anything,” he rambles as you giggle.

Fred looks into your eyes as you gently smile at him. The moon illuminated his face in the darkness, softening his sharp features as he sighed, looking at you. In this light, you were close to perfection. Fred wanted to melt on the floor when you looked at him with those eyes. Eyes that held so much beauty and adoration. 

It wasn’t until his forehead gently touched yours that you realized you were moving in closer. Fred gently brushed his nose against yours, making you lightly laugh before he slowly connected your lips into a gentle kiss. When his lips touched yours, it set your body on fire. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips were soft and sweet against yours, moving gently, pushing his tongue past your parted lips, kissing you deeply. The kiss made you feel lightheaded and foggy, losing your senses, but at the same time, all of your senses felt heightened in the moment. Fred was addictive, you wanted more and more and more and that’s what made him dangerous. But you were too caught up in the feeling of his hands on your skin, lips pressing against him, soft moans falling from your lips into his mouth. 

As Fred wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands brush up against something tucked into your waistband of your shorts. His laces his brows together before plucking it from your waistband, breaking your kiss as you whine when he does so. “What’s this?” he asks, holding up the parchment, confused.

You sigh and take it from him, playing with the letter in your hands. “It’s a letter, from Alyssa...she told me she’s safe with her mum and sisters. She’s in London,” you tell him as he smiles, rubbing your leg, knowing that her safety was important to you. “She’s...waiting for me...to come back to the ministry so we can get back to work,” you tell him.

Fred just laughs, “Well, you’re gonna have to break the news to her. I’ll get Errol and you can send her a letter tonight, telling her not to wait up.” But before Fred can run inside and get you parchment and a quill, you grab his hand and stop him, giving him a sad look. His happy eyes turn into confusion which turn into realization. “You are going to quit the ministry, right?” he asks as you sadly look away from him and back down at the parchment in your hands, nervously fumbling with it. “(Y/N), you hate it there. You have to quit.”

“I have duties, Fred. To my family. To the ministry. To myself. I can’t just throw away everything I’ve been working towards for years just for a silly dream!” you exclaim to him as he frustratedly runs his hands through his hair.

He scoffs, “A silly dream that I believe in. That George believes in. That you, at one point, believed in! I can help you! I’ll...I’ll...I’ll go down to the ministry with you tomorrow and help you face your father and Alyssa and all of them. We can move you out and into a flat and you can start living the life you wanted. Don’t you want that?” he throws his hands in the air defeated.

The whole situation had you torn up. Fred was offering you the chance of a lifetime. Your dream. Everything you desired Fred wanted to give to you with no strings attached. He just wanted to see you happy, doing the thing you loved. But on the other hand, you had an obligation to your family and the ministry. Leaving them would get you into some deep shit that would be too hard to recover from or climb out of. The last thing you wanted to do was pull Fred down with you. 

You retort, “Just because I want it doesn’t mean it’s right for me, Fred!” Fred stands there in silence, shaking his head. “People are depending on me to assume this position after my father steps down. If I let them down, the whole ministry will have a vendetta against me. Do you realize what that means for me? It means I’ll lose everything. My dreams. The shoppe. My family....you...” you trail off at that last bit, but Fred catches it and looks at you with sad eyes. “Fred, I like you. I really do, but I can’t put you in a position that will make life a living hell for you.”

Fred shakes his head, “I am ready to take on whatever it is if it means you are happy. If it means that there’s a chance for us.”

His words make your heart ache with how much he already cared and it had only been three days since you met. But something deep down told you that this was something to fight for. Something to fight like hell for. But you didn’t know if you were prepared for that fight. “Freddie...I can’t...” you whisper to him, holding his face in your hands, trying to reach his sensibilities. 

Fred gulps and stays quiet for a moment, but it feels like years. “Okay,” he simply states. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” The tone of his voice makes your heart break. “I, um, I should probably get back inside. We both should. It gets cold out here quite quickly.”

Peeling himself away from you, he starts back to the Burrow as you hop down from the hood of the car. “Fred,” you call out as he turns around. “I’m sorry.”

He looks back at you and shakes his head. “Me too.”

Fred continues to walk back into the house as you stand outside, in front of your car, letter in your hand, heart breaking in your chest. The decision you made was right, but why did it feel so wrong?

----------

“Percy, I can carry my own backpack to my car,” you laugh as you follow him down the stairs, Percy a few steps ahead of you.

Without looking back he speaks, “I insist. Now, go put something in your stomach. The drive back to London is long, so fill up.” You smile and shake your head as you walk into the kitchen as the rest of the Weasleys are sat around the table. You take a seat next to Ginny you passes you a plate full of pancakes as you graciously accept it. 

Everyone greets you with a small smile or a good morning, but Fred just looks up at you with sad eyes before going back to pushing food around his plate. But that didn’t stop you from glancing at him every now and again, wishing you could make him happier. The fact of the matter was that neither of you were happy with the decision that had to be made. Fred had offered you the world on a silver platter and yet you refused in fear of the consequences. You had only known him for two days and yet he was so ready to help you, to make you happy. How could he be so sure of something when you were so unsure of everything. 

But you push the thought aside and start to eat your breakfast. Ron starts conversation, “So, what’s the first thing you’re doing when you get back, (Y/N)?” he asks.

You think for a moment with a sigh. “There’ll probably a stack of work for me to sort through. I’ll tend to that first. And after that’s done...I don’t know. Probably try to get back in the routine of things, help my father out, tend to some department issues,” you speak plainly. The mundane nature of life back at home made your stomach twist as you thought of it in comparison to what life could be back in London in Diagon Alley with a bookstore to call your own...Fred right across the way...

Your thoughts are interrupted with a short chuckle from George. “Doesn’t sound like too much fun,” he tells you as you sigh with a small smile, figuring that Fred told him that you were taking him up on their offer of investment. 

“Is work supposed to be fun?” you ask, taking a bite off your fork.

Fred sarcastically laughs. “Yes, actually. George and I love what we do for a living. Work isn’t supposed to be a task, it should be something you love. Something you have a passion for. Something that makes you want to get out of bed and work towards. Otherwise, what’s your life then? Something so mundane and boring and when you’re dead you end up regretting what you did with it?” Fred blurts as George elbows him under the table. Fred stops, realizing that he may have gone too far. 

His words start to circle and dance around in your head, each one of them hitting you in the chest like a bullet. He was right. Why waste all of your time and effort into something you couldn’t care about? But it was too late. You were set out for the ministry and your family expected your arrival today. 

You finish eating breakfast and circle back to Ginny’s room, doing a once over to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. As you walked down the stairs of the Burrow, you felt sad to leave. Even the three days you spent here were the best days of the summer. Each day brought something new and exciting. Waking up each morning to see happy faces, Fred’s face...that was something you would cherish. 

One by one, you say your goodbyes and profusely thank the Weasleys for letting you stay for so long. Molly insists it was nothing and you can come visit whenever you liked. When you get to Fred, you don’t know whether to hug him or just move on. But he decides for you. “Can I walk you to your car actually?” he asks you as you nod gently. 

You give Percy a tight hug as you speak, “I’ll see you at work, Perc.”

But Percy turns to speak in your ear, “Will I?” You pull away from him sharply, giving him a look. Percy just smiles and speaks, “You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). A talented one at that. You are too big for the ministry.” You give him a gentle smile as he whispers, “Get the fuck out of there. For my sake.”

But before you can say anything, Fred and you are walking out of the Burrow and to your car. The walk to your car is awkward and quiet as you play with the hem of your t-shirt, kicking rocks as you walk down the dirt path. Fred digs his hands in his pockets as he walks to your car.

When you make it to your car, you turn to the tall ginger and sigh. The two of you just look at each other for a moment before Fred reaches out and brushes a piece of hair from your face as you lean into his touch. His touch makes your heart flutter as he smiles gently at you before pressing his lips to your forehead, kissing it sweetly. “Goodbye, (Y/N).”

Fred gives your hand a squeeze before letting it go gently, walking away from you and back to the Burrow. Your heart is beating a mile a minute and walking him walk away is like someone stabbing you in the gut. This isn’t how things were supposed to end. He wasn’t supposed to let you go. But if he was gonna let you go, you weren’t going to let him go. 

“Fred!” you call out, making him halt in his tracks and turn back to you, shielding his eyes from the bright August sun. Your chest is heavy as you gather up all the confidence you have in your body. “I fucking hate the ministry. I hate my job. I don’t want to take over for my father. I don’t want to take this path that’s been made for me!” you exclaim, arms stretched. Fred just looks at you. “I want to open a bookstore. I want to help people learn. I want to wake up every morning, excited for the day. I want to wake up every morning and...see you,” you confess to him with a smile. “I want you, Fred.”

Fred just stands there for a moment before slowly walking back towards you and you inhale deeply, trying to keep your negative thoughts at bay. When he reaches you, he lets a small smile creep its way on his face. “I want you. I want to wake up every day and see your beautiful face staring back at me. I want to be there for you, to make you happy, to support you, to protect you. To make you feel safe and sound. I want you, (Y/N),” he confesses back as you smile widely.

The two of you waste no more time as his lips connect to yours, holding you in his arms. His lips are smiling into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. He pulls away with a goofy grin on his face as you chuckle, “My parents are going to kill me. The ministry is not gonna be happy about this.”

“Fuck the ministry,” he laughs as you join in. “I’m going to be by your side the whole time, helping you through it all. I swear. Through all the ups and downs.”

You hold his face in your hands as your heart swells in your chest. “I don’t like that I’m getting you into so much trouble,” you admit.

Fred rolls his eyes, “Oh, please, sweetheart. Trouble is my middle name.”

The two of you share another quick kiss before Fred grabs your hand and the two of you walk back to the Burrow, happily linked together. Fred calls out, “Ron! Go get the mattress again! We’ve got company!” 

[waitingonavision]

OK OK OK OK Hear me out: how do you think the story would change if Mirabel had the gift of stopping time? Or just giant butterfly wings?

OK OK OK OK So many kids in our house, so let's turn the sound up! You know why? I think it's time for a grandkid round-up! (Grandkid round-up!)

...is what you were going for, right? 😁

And a confession: I’m horrible at coming up with and thinking about AUs, so please bear with me. ...It’s also why this ask has been sitting in my drafts for as long as it has, sorry! Things are going to get a little rambly...

One of the first things to address is the change of Mirabel having a Gift at all, and how that would affect the story. Gah, it’s so hard for me to do this!

So, Mirabel has a Gift, but the magic is still in trouble because generational trauma is still very much A Thing. Although, Abuela would (presumably) have a better relationship with her youngest granddaughter. And Bruno... wouldn’t have left? Well, not necessarily: Maybe he’d still have that vision and go into hiding, for reasons. ...But less out of a fear that Mirabel would be ostracized, perhaps?

And then, it could be that Mirabel might feel more included from the get-go... However, this is another maybe! Since we know that even a Madrigal with a Gift can be... shunned and scapegoated...

I might be going ‘round in circles at this point, so let’s switch gears.

What would be Mirabel’s character arc, if she had a Gift? Still learning to see herself? Or learning to allow time/things to flow uninterrupted, for example?

On that note, let’s explore the Gift ideas a bit...

What if Mirabel had the Gift of stopping time?

I’m sure there has been speculation about this! given the way time stops during “Waiting On A Miracle.” (Hah, I’m listening to the Encanto soundtrack on shuffle as I’m writing this, and the song just came up!)

Some questions I’m thinking about:

How “useful” is this Gift? In terms of how Abuela determines and prizes usefulness - I imagine the ability to stop time would be quite helpful.

What are its downsides? Would the Gift be physically, or otherwise draining?

What are its limits? For example, would she be able to stop the cracks from forming? Freeze their advance? Or, since the cracks are a metaphor, and more explicitly have to do with the magic, would her Gift have no effect on them? (Like the headcanons that Julieta’s magic can’t help with Bruno’s vision/magic-related migraines and side-effects.)

Villain!Mirabel idea (which plays into the question of limits): could she... stop a heart?

Comedy!Mirabel: (breaking the 4th wall by) freezing time and commenting on the events taking place.

What if Mirabel’s Gift was having giant butterfly wings?

Here’s a visual!

It is an aesthetic Gift? Do they allow flight? Is it Mirabel’s Delivery Service?

Many butterflies use their wings for camouflage and mimicry... how could these play out and affect the story?

Another idea: Sometimes they indicate that the butterfly is toxic. What if Mirabel couldn’t be touched because of her wings? 😩 (Sorry, I can’t not make this angsty...)

A third: Butterfly wings help absorb heat and insulate. Maybe the scales can be shed and act as a light and/or heat source - reflecting Mirabel’s warmth and loving quality.

Would Mirabel essentially be a living embodiment of the miracle? Are her wings golden? How would this affect Abuela’s perception of Mirabel?

I might add to these lists! But hopefully this helps and gets the ball rolling!

Thank you for the ask! 💚

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In -- Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: Some language, mild sexual talk

Since it’s been awhile since I last posted an update, in the previous chapter Madeleine had confronted Riley with a video after she left the ball. 

Thank you @burnsoslow for the preread and beta.

-------------

Riley sat on a leather bench at the foot of the bed with a television remote held loosely between her hands, folded in her lap. 

Somehow her worn-out body managed to walk from the corridor after the encounter with Madeleine, up the many stairs of the quarters she shared with Liam and to their bedroom. The shock of the situation combined with exhaustion and throbbing pain in her lower back was secondary to the fear she felt at possibly giving up the man she loved. 

With trembling hands, she had slipped the DVD into the player and watched her nightmare play out on the screen -- It was all true. Madeleine acquired an illicit video of Riley and her ex-husband that the Queen had no clue was recorded of her or existed.

Her thumb grazed over the pause button several times, but she knew pressing it wouldn’t stop the hurt and embarrassment she felt at that moment at watching her former husband violating her trust and privacy. It wouldn’t stop Madeleine from releasing the video of it to the press and public. And it wouldn't stop the love she felt for Liam -- no one was powerful enough to take that feeling away from her.

But it was those words Madeleine threatened her with that got equal consideration with that video in Riley’s mind. She tried to envision how the scenario would carry out if the video was released and for those who would be affected by it: her father, her friends, her former students. 

Liam.

“It’s a shame that he’ll lose his reign, all because of you.”

“Would you really do that to Liam?”

“Do you genuinely believe you’re worth all the trouble it will cause him?”

Riley hit the pause button, her hands flying up to cover her tear-laden face as she bent over in sobs, shaking her head. She was wrestling with that inner voice, replaying Madeleine’s words like a broken record while struggling to remember everything Liam told her about trusting him and his love for her.

No matter how hard she tried to let his tender voice speak to that sacred place in her heart, Madeleine’s threats and taunts were getting the best of her. If there was even a slight possibility that the Countess was right, and Liam would get dragged through the mud in all of this, then there was no question what needed to be done. 

Those scattered bricks that formed the walls she came to Cordonia with, the ones Liam had broken down, were quickly stacking up again, one on top of the other. If something didn’t happen soon, Riley would be surrounded and suffocated inside that impenetrable cocoon that initially caused herself to doubt her worthiness to him in the first place.

All of those insecurities and fears crept up faster than a flooded riverbank, and she felt powerless to stop it from rising. Even if she could, she’d never allow Liam to suffer the consequences of something she had the power to prevent. To hell with whatever happened to her, but not him. He saved her weeks ago, and as her teary gaze slid from her hands to the wardrobe closet across the room, this would be her way of saving him.

Riley picked up the remote from her lap and tossed it aside. Determined to get out of the palace and Cordonia before anyone could see her, she swallowed her anger and grief and swiped a knuckle under each eye to dry the tears shed. 

She rose to her feet faster than she should have, feeling an intense shock of pain that began in her hip and shot down to her feet. There were no doubts that the fall from struggling with Madeleine injured her far worse than she wanted to admit to herself. With a shrieking whimper, she ground her teeth together and doubled over, feeling like she might faint. 

Riley grasped her back and gave herself a second to breathe through the pain before straightening up and staggering to her wardrobe to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible.

_____________

Liam stepped off the dance floor with Olivia's arm curled through his and escorted her back to their table. The conclusion of the ball was nearly upon him, and most guests had already stopped on their way out to say their farewells and offer congratulatory well-wishes. When they'd ask about the Queen's whereabouts, he'd tell them she had something come up that needed her attention. No one dared press him on the issue.

Checking the time on his watch, Liam looked up as Maxwell ran over with his phone in hand and dropped into a seat. He looked curiously at the out of breath Beaumont and asked, "What's going on, Maxwell?"

"Sorry," he replied before plucking a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray and gulping it down quickly. Wiping the droplets that dribbled from his mouth to his chin off with the back of his hand, he panted. "I ran here as fast as I could. I just got a text message from Drake. He's heading back soon."

"Did he say what the results of the paternity test were?" Olivia asked.

Maxwell nodded. "Yeah. They're Bastien's for sure. Las Vegas officials are allowing Drake to leave, but they've detained Bas until he pays up the $200,000 he owes to Boom Boom. Drake's return flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Cordonia time."

Liam pulled out his wallet and tossed $100 at a smug Leo, who promptly counted them out and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "I told you those little dudes weren't mine, bro. Really, your doubt in me hurts." 

"I'll admit you were right, Leo. But you do have a track record when it comes to being involved in weird stuff like this."

"Yeah, I've gotten myself into some pretty hairy shit a time or two," he laughed as the memories came to him. "Ahh, good times, good times. But, y'know, it wasn't always just fun and games with me, Liam. During those few occasions when I'd show up to train on being the top dog of this place, Father taught me several valuable lessons. Wanna know what they were?"

"Not really," Liam answered dryly, then tossed back the rest of his scotch to prepare himself. "But I assume you're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn right I am! This is good shit to know, straight from the Big Kahuna himself." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You must never tell anyone what I'm about to share with you all. This is top secret, classified Cordonian shit we're talking about; lives are on the line here. Father would be pissed if --"

"Just spit it out already!" Olivia snapped.

"Alright, first, never jizz in a jacuzzi unless you want to be covered in a thin spiderweb-like amalgamation of your own gravy. Daddio said he learned the hard way on that one ..."

"Oh, God. Leo!" Sickened, Liam dropped his head.

" ... Next, when you kiss a woman's hand, do it on the thumb side. Most people scratch their asses with their fingers, but rarely their thumbs. I might be an exception to the rule on that one." Leo chuckled to himself. "And lastly ... Rys spermies are MEAN sons-of-bitches, and we should dip my balls in a mug of hot water every day to kill them before having sex." 

"What the hell?" Olivia grimaced as she lowered her coffee mug away from her lips and pushed it away. 

"My dad told me the same thing," Maxwell boasted. "Except he called them Beaumont spermies. I guess he heard the same story from someone different than your dad."

Liam lowered the hands that were covering his face and breathed out heavily, "Leo, did our father ever teach you about anything other than using protection and sex during these meetings? Anything about negotiations, taxes, treaties ..."

Leo considered him for a moment. "Nope. He said you'd do all that stuff."

Liam grumbled. "Of course he did."

Olivia looked between Leo and Maxwell and scowled. "Well, it's too bad neither of your fathers took their own advice." She grabbed her clutch from the table. "At least I'll rest easier knowing the two of you aren't reproducing. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I'll walk out with you, Liv." Liam rose and left the ballroom, having had more than enough of his fill of Leo for the night. There was also an incredibly sexy woman upstairs he'd been dreaming of pleasing all day, and he was overly eager to make good on his promise to join her shortly. 

______________

Liam made his way through the residential wing and down the long hallway to his quarters. While undoing his tie, he stopped midway when he noticed a vase that usually sat on a decorative table along the wall, tipped over on its side with bundles of long-stemmed roses littered on the ground around it. 

As he stooped down to pick them up, he found it oddly peculiar -- they didn't just fall over like this on their own. If a member of the staff had knocked them over, they would have picked them up; he felt certain Riley would have, as well.  

After rearranging the flowers in the vase and situating them back on the table, Liam removed his key card from his pocket and swiped it through the key fob next to the door.

"Riley! I'm home," he called out in a sensual tone, knowing she was most likely upstairs -- hopefully naked and ready to get her ass spanked -- and wouldn't have heard him.  

Taking a moment to check his reflection in the entryway mirror, Liam smoothed back his hair and tested his breath against his palm, satisfied he was good. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, Liam ascended the stairs, two at a time, to his bedroom. 

"Daddy's ready for his dessert ..." his exuberant voice trailed off as the sultry smirk he donned quickly faded away when he walked into an empty room. "Riley?"

Glancing around the bedroom, the en suite door was still open, and the light was off, so he knew she wasn't in there. The bed was still in pristine form and didn't look touched. He wasn't at all worried; Riley likely went for a snack, even though that thought seemed rather odd considering how adamant she was about returning to their quarters earlier.

Liam placed the toppings on a side table and slipped out his phone. He plopped down on the bench at the foot of their bed, thinking maybe he'd missed a message or call from her. 

There was nothing.

He scratched his head; it wasn't like Riley not to mention to him if she'd gone somewhere, not that she had to. But in this case, she knew he'd be up soon. Thinking about the overturned vase Liam walked upon, something started to not sit well with him. 

With the cell still in his hand, he pulled her contact information up. Just as he was about to hit the dial button, he heard "Liam" in a low, raspy voice.

Relief washed over him as he stood and put his phone away. "Love, you worried me. Everything okay?" Her face was ashen, and her eyes red and swollen. Liam's insides immediately clinched.

Riley didn't answer as Liam crossed the room, frantically approaching her, worry engraved on his features. “Riley, love, what’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes were desperately searching for any clue as to what was clearly something wrong with his wife.

She held out her hand, preventing him from coming too close. “Please ... don’t.”

Bewildered, he asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Riley turned her head away somberly; she couldn't bear to look at him. She had planned to get out of the palace before he returned from the ball; there was no way she would be able to face him. Liam would want an explanation that she couldn't give him. But when she got to the car, Riley noticed there was something important she forgot to give back to him, and there was no way she would take it. Maybe somewhere inside, even if she couldn't admit it, she needed to see him and do this right. “I ... have to go.” Her words were barely audible.

Liam's brows bumped together. “Go? You’re going somewhere this late? But you were tired before --”

“No,” Her head shook faster than she realized before she spat the rest out. “I’m leaving Cordonia. I’m returning to Las Vegas, and I’m not coming back.”

“Riley? What the hell is going on? You were fine and having a good time 30 minutes ago, and now, all of a sudden, you want to go back to Nevada. What am I missing here? Does this have something to do with what happened at dinner? Because I told you --”

“You’re not missing anything. I came here to prevent you from marrying Madeleine, and I did that. That was the agreement, and now ... I’m going home.”

Liam started to laugh and wagged his finger at her. “Leo put you up to pranking me? He's mad about me sending that damn monkey away and is trying to get me back, right? Because if he did, that's just … just heartless. And I don’t find it funny.”

“No, Liam.." She shook her head again. "Leo didn’t put me up to this, and it's not a prank.” Riley carefully pulled off the wedding bands she came back to give him and held them out to him.

He looked at them and gritted his teeth. “Put them back on,” he commanded.

“I can’t do that, Liam. They belonged to your mother, and I’m not taking something so sentimental with me back to Vegas.”

“You’re damn right you're not taking them back to Vegas with you because you’re not going!”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Riley choked out into a wispy sob, “I’m so sorry, Liam. I'm so sorry!”

He said nothing as he stared at her in disbelief and saw that she was serious. “Why?” He asked as his throat clenched and the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Her body felt leaden, never having seen him this shattered. “Liam, I just want to go home, okay? I mean ... this has been an amazing experience, and I’ll never forget it, but I miss my home, and my job, and my friends ..."

“Fuck your home! I’ll buy you one here that looks just like it. Visit your friends all you want ... hell, bring them here if you want to; I don’t care. That's NOT what's going on! There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know, NOW!”

Riley startled at his yell, wanting to hold him and make it better. “Liam, I don’t want to be in Cordonia anymore, or be the Queen, or live in this palace. I want to go home.”

He motioned around the room.“THIS is your home, Riley ... Cordonia.  I’m your home! This palace is your home." Liam scrubbed a frustrated hand furiously over his face. "Again, you were fine 30 minutes ago. What changed between you leaving the ball and coming up here? You're not telling the truth for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Did I do something to upset you? Did someone else do something to upset you?"

"No!" she responded expeditiously.

"I love you, Riley. You know that, right?" She nodded; the glisten in his blue eyes and the desperation in his trembling voice was destroying her willpower. "Do you …  still love me?"

Riley slammed her eyes shut. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and to tell him so in this very moment would only serve to prolong this hellacious situation. The only way to protect him from losing everything -- in her mind -- was to let him go. He would fight her on this, and it broke her heart to see the pain and confusion in his eyes, but it had to be done.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated his question once more. The struggle and agony on her face were evident to him.

Riley turned away from Liam and faced the door. Did she have it in her to answer that question with a lie?

"... the council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of a queen on some American nobody but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Are you worth the trouble?"

The sadness crushed her. There was no other way to protect him. Riley swiped at her face and answered firmly.

“No.”

With that, the Queen walked out, leaving the King in an empty room with his shock, his confusion, and an unimaginable pain he'd never get over.

-----------

Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @natureblooms24 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @shewillreadyou @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen

Fools Rush In tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton​ @cordonianprincess​ @zaffrenotes​ @zilch3​ @drrookie​ @sfb123​ @secretaryunpaid​

[mamabearcatfanfics]

Battle Couple

I've had this little idea for a while, and then decided I could bend it slightly to fit this year's @inukag-week's first battle couple prompt. Because not all battles we face have to be huge ones against a deadly foe. Sometimes the battles can simply be standing up for what's right.

Inuyasha dragged the beanie down tighter over his head, stomping towards the exit of the store. He hated this. This is why he bought things online and had them delivered. Because then he could avoid interactions like he’d just had with that racist arsehole. He glanced down at the text from Sesshoumaru again, wondering if there was some other way he could get this gift for Rin. It was the first time his half-brother had thrown a birthday party for his adopted daughter, and no doubt it would be a big deal.

Rin has expressed an interest in this item. Her birthday party is on Saturday at 10am. Do not be late.

And of course the toy Rin had asked for was sold out everywhere online. The tiny dolls with light up dresses and a matching crystal necklace were apparently ‘the’ toy at the moment. She specifically wanted the purple one, the ‘hope’ doll, because it was her favourite colour, and she already had the other dolls in the set. This was the last one she needed. And he hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. He was failing as an Uncle. The last store he’d been to, he’d practically seen a pair of mothers come to blows arguing over the last CrystalShines doll on the shelf.

He was close to the exit of the store when an intriguing scent wafted past his nose. It was another store employee, dressed in the dark polo shirt and black jeans, with one of those ear walkie talkies they all seemed to wear. She was giggling, talking to someone using the button on her mike, her other arm full of a variety of women’s clothing that she was putting back on the racks. Her arms were a blur as she began sorting them into different sizes, working quickly to make each rack neat and tidy.

He watched as she flitted about the store, talking to a customer, smiling and waving at a baby in a pram, folding jumpers and t-shirts. His eyes were drawn to her dark ponytail; the way it swung as she moved was almost hypnotic. Her glossy hair was black, but had a blue sheen to it under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and he had a sudden urge to reach out and touch it, stroke down the length of the swinging tail to see if it was as soft and silken as it looked.

Without even realising it, he followed her, almost bumping into her as she suddenly spun around to go in a different direction.

“Oh! Good evening sir, can I help you with anything?”

There was a pleasant smile on her face, and she was looking at him expectantly. His voice didn’t seem to want to work now he was actually standing close to her, so he turned around his phone, showing her the picture of the doll.

“This is what you’re looking for?”

“Yeah”, he said softly, his eyes focused on hers as she glanced up at him again. He’d never seen anyone with grey eyes before. It seemed they were lit from within like starlight, and now that he was closer to her, she smelt even better. He cleared his throat, trying to get a hold of himself. “My niece wants one of these for her birthday, and I’m having trouble finding one.”

“Okay”, she said, reaching for the button on her headset to talk to the other employees on the shop floor. “Let me just talk to my colleague in the toy department, and I’ll see if we’ve got that item in stock.”

❤

Kagome watched as the man in front of her visibly deflated.

“Don’worry about it then. Already talked to ‘im.”

And then she got it. Ryan was working the toy department tonight. Ryan the racist bigot who didn’t like interacting with any customers who weren’t white, male, good ol’ boys, exactly like him. Usually he worked out the back in the store room, unpacking shipments, but due to the flu going around and the shortage of staff, the evening shift manager had put him on the floor tonight. And he’d no doubt said something innaproppriate to this gorgeous man in front of her, who obviously had some sort of youkai heritage.

She’d had her own run-ins with Ryan. He’d said many cruel things to her over the past six months, since he’d found out what happened a few years ago, cruel enough to make her run to the safety of the women’s toilets to shed a few silent tears in private. He never bullied her in a place where others could overhear, he always cornered her in dark places where there was no one else around. He frightened her. Jak knew she was uncomfortable around him, and did his best to make sure they were never rostered on at the same time, so it had been a while since she’d had to deal with him.

She took in the golden eyes, fangs and the beanie yanked down hard over his long silver hair, but it was the resigned bitter look on his face that caught at her heart. She knew that feeling. Internally Kagome fumed, but outwardly she hoisted her brightest smile onto her face, wanting to make it up to him. She could fix this!

“Wait. I don’t know the toy department that well, but I’m sure I could help. Just give me a moment to put these things down.”

He followed her to a wheeled rack in the aisle where she hung all the clothing in her arms back up, and then turned to him, smiling brightly again.

“Let’s go to the toy department and see if we can’t find this doll for your niece. When’s her birthday?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Oh dear, that doesn’t give you much time to find one!”

“I’ve been lookin’ all week. Online stores have sold out.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll have one in stock. Let’s see, the doll aisle is around here somewhere.”

They walked together down the aisle, both scanning the shelves for the tiny dolls.

“They should be around here”, said Kagome, her finger running along the price labelling on the edge of the shelf, her eyes lighting up as she found the right tag, but sighing in disappointment as she found the shelf empty.

“Yeah”, sighed Inuyasha. “I asked the guy around here if he could find out if there were any more out the back or somethin’ and he, ah…”

“Don’t worry”, said Kagome, a determined look on her face, “I will personally go take a look in the store room for you. Just wait here for me sir.”

“Inuyasha.”

“Huh?”

He coughed a little, his head turning to the side to avoid her direct gaze. “My name, it’s Inuyasha.”

“Oh. Right. Just wait here for me Inuyasha, and I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks Kagome.”

She blinked in confusion as he said her name, wondering how he’d known it, then realised he had read her name tag.

For some reason him saying her name out loud made her stomach swoop, like she was on a roller coaster, even though her feet were firmly planted on the ground. As he gave her a shy smile, she felt her cheeks begin to heat, and she whirled around, making a beeline for the storage room, talking into the mike on her headset as she left.

“Hey Jak, it’s Kagome – just going out to the store room for a moment for a customer. I’ll get right back on those returns as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Oooh, tell me it’s the hottie with the white hair that I pointed out to you!”

“Jak!”

“Oh it is! Take your time honey!”

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“And you love me for it. Make sure you get his name and number before he goes!”

“Jak!”

“For the customer form darlin’, what else did you think I meant?”

She could hear him still sniggering as she released the talk button on her mike, and she shook her head, grinning despite herself. He was her in-line manager and they got on really well, but rarely got to spend time together, as he was usually rostered on during the day, and her in the evenings so her day was free for lectures and study.

Kagome squeezed her way into the storeroom, scanning the aisles of stock yet to be placed out on the shelves. And then she saw it, the edge of a box with a picture of a tiny doll up on the highest shelf.

Dragging over the step ladder, she placed it under the shelf and climbed up, her petite size meaning she had to stand on the very top to have any chance of reaching the box. She just managed to reach the doll with the tips of her fingers, and nudged it. It tipped forward and fell, and with a gasp she managed to catch it with her outstretched hand, teetering on the top of the ladder, her other arm windmilling frantically to keep her balance.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her frantically beating heart after her almost fall, the box containing the doll clutched tightly against her. But she’d found one for him, a purple one, just like he’d wanted. She had no idea why that made her feel so incredibly happy, but it did.

Grinning widely as she emerged from the storeroom, she began walking directly to the toy department. She could see Inuyasha there, waiting for her. But she could also see Ryan, his arms crossed as he spoke to him, a sneer on his face. She quickened her pace. Previous experience had taught her that expression couldn’t mean anything good.

❤

Inuyasha stood his ground, hands clenched in tight fists by his sides. He had every right to be here – he was a customer, he hadn’t caused any commotion or damage. Kagome had asked him to wait here. But apparently that wasn’t good enough for this guy.

“I told you already, we’ve got none of what your looking for. Nothing for you. Are you deaf, or just stupid?” The volume of his voice wasn’t loud enough to draw anyone’s attention to them, but definitely loud enough to get on Inuyasha’s nerves.

Inuyasha closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he held back. He would not punch out this idiot – this was a department store, not a battle ground. Even though he deserved it because he was a racist bigoted shit.

“I already told you to leave youkai! Do I have to call security?”

Inuyasha breathed out slowly, trying to keep any trace of anger out of his voice, even though he wanted to let rip. He’d found out the hard way that security tended to not ask questions, just see his youkai traits and assume the worst.

“And I already told you, another employee was taking a look out the back for me. She told me to wait here for her.”

“Yeah, like I’d believe anything one of you would have to say. You’re all the same. What are hidin’ under that hat huh? Some kinda weird freakish thing I’d bet. ”

“Inuyasha!”

Inuyasha turned, his eyes lighting up as Kagome appeared. But she wasn’t wearing the wide smile she had when she left. She was stomping towards them, a box tucked tightly under her arm, the scowl on her face impressive. Thankfully that scowl was not directed at him.

He could smell the nervousness pouring off of her, but you never would have thought it looking at the way she faced off with her work colleague, stepping in front of him like she wanted to shield him from this man's ire with her much smaller body.

“Ryan, I’m handling this customer. And I’ve already found what he needed, so there’s no reason for you to be here. I think you’ve probably said enough.”

There was the barest trace of a tremble in her voice, and Inuyasha moved in closer behind her, wanting her to feel like he was there to support her. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he didn’t like it.

Ryan rolled his eyes and then sneered at her, his voice low and vicious.

“Ha. Shoulda known it would be you Kagome. Such a helpful little kiss ass. Why don’t you turn that cute little tush of yours around and head back to the ladies department where you belong, unless you’re still that desperate for some demon tail.”

“What?”

Ryan grinned at the shocked expression on Kagome’s face, posturing like he’d somehow scored a point. “Bit ironic really, you working in the ladies department when you’re anything but. A human ain't good enough for Kagome, huh? Wasn’t it bad enough that the last guy you had got fired, now you’re after customers too? You really are a-“

“Don’t. Say. Another. Word.”

Both Kagome and Ryan flinched at the snarled words behind them.

“Kagome, call your manager”, said Inuyasha gruffly. “I wanna report this guy.”

“It’s my word against yours demon, and little Kagome’s not gonna say anything, are you Kagome, because you’re fuckin’ pathetic. There’s nothin’ you can report me for”, snorted Ryan.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d probably pick being a racist arsehole, for starters”, said another voice cheerfully. "Then maybe we could add workplace harassment."

A tall man in a tailored suit stepped into view, his dark hair slicked back into a short ponytail. He was holding his phone up, obviously still recording the whole thing.

“Here I was, minding my own business in the Lego aisle while I looked for the perfect birthday gift for my little girls, and what should I hear? An employee bad mouthing a customer, when the customer had been nothing but polite and civil. Don’t worry about proof, I’m happy to be a witness. I was recording the whole thing. From the very first racist slur that left your lips.”

Kagome’s eyes were wide as she glanced from the ponytailed man back to Ryan, and Inuyasha could hear her heart beating frantically. He nodded at her approvingly as she took a deep breath, her hand steady on the button on her headset.

“Jak, it’s Kagome”, she said, her voice a little breathless, but firm. “Can you-“

Ryan lunged towards her.

“Don’t you dare, you fuckin’ bitch!”

Inuyasha ducked out from behind Kagome, his fist grabbing the back of Ryan’s shirt and lifting him into the air, Ryan’s legs kicking frantically as he tried to escape. Before Kagome could move out of the way, his steel capped boot caught her on the chin. She dropped like a stone, crumpling to the floor in a heap.

“Fuck, Kagome!”

Inuyasha swung Ryan out of the way and dropped him none too gently, all his focus on the small woman laying prone on the slightly grubby linoleum floor, still out for the count. He could hear a scuffle behind him as the man in the suit and a few other observers struggled to keep Ryan contained, but he no longer cared about him. He knelt down close to her, gently stroking the glossy dark hair back from her face.

“Kagome, can you hear me?”

Inuyasha shook Kagome’s shoulder gently, trying to rouse her, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Inuyasha?” she said groggily, her arm tightening around the box, a wobbly smile on her face. “I got your doll.”

❤

It took a while to sort everything out. An ambulance was called, and the police. The police took statements from Inuyasha, Kagome and the man in the suit, Miroku. Ryan was fired on the spot, and Jak was positively gleeful, despite the mountain of paperwork he’d have to fill out before he went home that evening. When the paramedic suggested that Kagome should go to the hospital to be checked for possible concussion, Inuyasha had immediately said he’d like to go with her, if that was alright with Kagome, and after a few polite remarks about it not being necessary, she’d gratefully accepted. Jak had positively pushed them into the ambulance together, waving them off with a bright smile. It was the most exciting evening shift he’d had in years.

❤

“You don’t have to stay you know. I’ll be fine, I’ll just get an Uber home.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, his arm resting on the edge of Kagome's hospital bed.

“For the tenth time woman, I don’t mind. I want to be here when the doctor examines you to make sure you’re okay. And then I wanna make sure you get home safe.” He sighed as he looked at the dark purpling bruise on Kagome’s chin. “I’m just sorry I didn’t throw that fucker down to the end of the aisle when I had the chance.”

“But it’s so late! It’s almost 2am, and you have the party to go to tomorrow. Today I mean.”

“Eh, that’s hours away. She won’t mind if I’m a little late, Rin’s a nice kid. And now I have the perfect present, thanks to you.”

Kagome was quiet for a while. The silence grew to feel uncomfortable, because Inuyasha could sense how tense Kagome suddenly was.

“Inuyasha… I want to explain. About what Ryan said to me.”

“Hmm?” He could smell nervousness again, billowing around her like a cloud, and he didn’t like it. “Doesn’t matter, none of my business.”

“But I want to”, she said, her voice taking on a stubborn edge.

“Fine, I’ll listen. But nothin’ you can say will change my good opinion of you. You stepped up for me back there Kagome, and that don’t happen for me much. I will always remember that.”

Kagome reached out her hand to lightly grasp the clawed one sitting next to her on the bed, and squeezed it.

“Thank you.”

He squeezed back.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyway”, she sighed. “About what Ryan said. I started working at that department store when I was still in high school, as a weekend job. And there was this training manager, a kitsune. He’d come around every so often, and all the girls thought he was really good looking. He had a little green sports car; a lot of the other girls thought was really important. They all were flirting with him, and then he asked me out. I was so surprised. I mean, me! I’m nothing special! He was so stylish, and so charming. I really thought…” Kagome laughed but it had no humour in it, and Inuyasha squeezed her hand again. She shrugged, her shoulders coming up around her ears as her face turned away from him.

“I was so stupid! It turned out I was right about being nothing special, because he was going out with a couple of girls at every store that he visited.” She flinched a little at Inuyasha’s low growl of disapproval. “There were around ten of us. And because a couple of us were under aged, he was charged. Lost his job. Ryan found out about it a few months ago and thought-“

“Don’t say it”, said Inuyasha gruffly, squeezing her hand again. “Don’t matter what he thought. It’s in the past. And the Kagome I saw tonight was amazing.”

“No I wasn’t!” Kagome shook her head, then winced as her head throbbed, realising that was a bad idea. “I was so scared Inuyasha! I’ve never been able to stand up to him before. But I couldn’t stand the thought of him being mean to you!”

“Then you’re even braver than I thought.” Inuyasha entwined his fingers with hers, and cleared his throat. “Kagome, I know you don’t know me. But I think I’d like to get to know you. Could I call you? Maybe we could go out for coffee or somethin’? I mean you don’t gotta answer, and if you don’t wanna, I totally understand, I mean-“

“Yes.” Kagome giggled at the wide toothy grin on Inuyasha’s face. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in.”

“Wait. Maybe you should see what all’a me looks like before you say yes.”

Inuyasha tugged off his beanie, revealing the pointed white dog ears on top of his head. “If you wanna change your mind, I-“

“They’re so cute!” squeaked Kagome. “Please give me your phone!”

❤

Kagome woke up the next morning very late, so late that it was no longer morning at all.

It had been 3am by the time Inuyasha had dropped her home with a bag of painkillers and the Doctor’s instructions for treating her mild concussion. He’d helped her into bed, placed her medicine and a glass of water next to the bed for her, kissed her softly on the cheek and whispered goodnight, closing the door behind him.

She rubbed her cheek gently at the memory of that small kiss, a smile on her face. She still had a headache, so she took two of the tablets, then reached for her phone on the bedside table where it had been charging.

There were two messages.

The birthday girl loves her present! Attached was a picture of a smiling Inuyasha kneeling with his arm around a little girl in a checked orange party dress and sparkly sandals, her dark hair up in pig tails. A wide excited grin split her face, revealing the gap of a missing front tooth. The doll was clutched tightly in her hand, and she was wearing the necklace that came with it.

I told Rin how brave you were, and she wanted you to have some birthday cake. Can I bring some over when you wake up? 🍰

Kagome smiled almost as wide as Rin, despite her headache.

I’d love you to ❤

[thewheezingwyvern]

OOO OOO PICK ME PICK ME!

I would like Bakugou or Kirishima please 🥺

Imma pick number 13 for inspo unless that's been done already. SFW or NSFW whatever you want I'm just excited to read 👀 can you take my Katsukikitten blog when/if you answer this?

🖤 Katsukikitten

Ooooh @katsukikitten you gave me some good wiggle room to work with. I ended up going SFW because I had an idea! Hopefully this helps fill your Bakugou needs!

𝘈𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰'𝘴 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦

Oracle!Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mention of blood and death

It was midday by the time you and Bakugou reached your destination. Rather, you reached where your partner had intended to take you and until that moment you had no idea what place it was he had in mind. Turns out, it was an old canyon that speared through the vast expanse of the Aural Desert. Sweat was pouring from your skin and Katsuki was no better, having shed his shirt during the travel some time ago. The horse you two had taken, a northern dunn that was bred to travel in the desert, nickered softly in approval once shade eclipsed over you. It was still blazingly hot but the further you strayed into the craggy paths tucked away from the sun’s glare, the cooler it grew. The change in temperature was a blessing, small on paper but large in practice.

“Keep up.” He snapped back at you over his shoulder.

A frown twisted across your lips, brows furrowing. Katsuki was not known for his calm nature but he had been far more irritable and snappish in the past few weeks. And not once had he even given you a hint of answers until today. It was slow work picking through the canyon, razor ferns creeping through cracks in the rocky walls that threatened to slice your flesh if either of you brushed against their leaves. Your mouth was incredibly dry and you wished you had the proper gloves so you could pluck those leaves off their stems and cut them open. When carefully handled, razor fern leaves stored a lot of water and could help slake your thirst.

“Where are we going Katsuki?” you asked for the fifth time that day.

“If you ask me one more time, I’m going to leave you behind, brat.” He snapped back at you, “Now shut up and follow me.”

Crestfallen at another question unanswered, you followed with a scowl. Katsuki had come and found you just before you joined your father in his tent with his retainers. Your absence would surely be noticed so you felt that you were owed at least something of an explanation. But your friend, crush and body guard was impossibly stubborn and you knew you would sooner have luck asking a mountain to move for you than get him to change his mind. Bakugou, however, was going out of his mind himself. As your bodyguard , appointed by the chief himself, he knew it was risky to bring you into the desert. A calloused hand touched the hilt of his curved scimitar sheathed at his hip. If anyone or anything tried to touch you, he’d make them regret it.

“We’re here.” He finally said.

‘Here’ was a rocky alcove, the wall of the canyon stretching up to blot out the light of the sun. Buried in the wall were long bands of vibrant color, smoky purples, vivacious reds, shimmering golds and streaks of laughing teals that were like the captured spirit of the seas so far away. It was a stunning alcove. And the cliff was clearly formed of the rocks and clay that your people used to craft their paints and makeups for use. But it was still just a wall and you couldn’t figure out why Katsuki would want to bring you to it. You folded your arms beneath your breasts, looking around once before turning back to your protector.

“It’s a wall.”

“Heh, shows what you know.” He sneered.

The blonde advanced forward to a large stone slab that was settled up against the wall. It didn’t look any different than the other rocks in the area. That is until he started sliding the rock to the side, fine granules of sand on the ground helping fill the air with a crunching sound. When he was finished, he revealed a tunnel that was worn into the side of the canyon. Katsuki smirked smugly at you before gesturing towards the opening of the hidden cave.

“After you, princess.”

When you glared at him as you walked by, he closed in behind you snickering. The light from outside streamed in enough to illuminate your first several steps into the cave. But just around the bend there was a distant light as well, it pooled on the walls and beckoned you forward. You’d never seen a glow like that and it was entrancing, urging you forward without being nudged by your companion. The passage snaked deeper into the rock, bands of the same color following you along until the both of you emerged into a chamber. Above in the ceiling, a small hole allowed a beam of sunlight to stream through until it gathered on a large pool of water that was nestled in the center of the chamber. At first you thought the water was glowing because of the single ray of sunshine that struck the calm surface of the pool but closer inspection revealed that wasn’t the case. Mesmerized, you feet carried you forward without your permission to see that this was more than a simple pool. There was a sharp drop cut into earth, almost like a sink hole that led deep into the ground. The water glowed in a myriad of icy blue, deepened violet and fractals of starlight.

“What is this place?” you whispered softly, your voice echoing off the walls.

“This is a sacred pool.” Katsuki supplied, falling beside you, “This is where oracles like me used to go to magnify their foresight. They used to be everywhere but they’ve been drying up more and more as the years pass.”

“I thought those were a myth.”

“They’re real…”

A far off, haunted expression flickered over his face, leading you to touch his arm, “Katsuki…what did you see?”

His foresight had proven invaluable for your clan and he was almost never wrong. But never before had you seen him look so tortured. Silence fell over you both for several moments before he started to walk forward. Even with his back to you, the pool bathed him in an ethereal light, shadows gathering along the contours of his back. Bakugou turned his head and looked over his shoulder at you.

“It’ll be easier to just show you. Come here.”

Tentatively you drew closer to him until you both were standing at the edge of the sacred pool. It swirled before you, begging for you to enter it’s depths and see the it’s wonders. But it was really, really deep and it was hard not to feel nervous. Bakugou seemed to notice your hesitation and snorted with disdain.

“You really think I would have you do something dangerous, brat? I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Well there was that one time-”

“That was your idea, dumbass, not mine.”

You giggled, “It worked out didn’t it?”

Katsuki let the corner of his mouth twitch before he turned to face you. Suddenly you were aware of how close he was to you and how he still wasn’t wearing a shirt. The tanned plains of his chest begged for your hands to touch and wander but the serious expression in face made that thought evaporate. A rough hand came up and clapped you on the top of your head gently, shaking you a bit in a display of affection.

“Trust me, princess…”

“…Ok.”

Bakugou pulled you to him and the both of you leapt into the pool. The initial contact was like normal water, refreshingly cool and it chased away the heat that had built up in you from the desert sun. But soon the feeling evaporated and it was like the two of you were floating in the night sky. With surprise you found yourself able to breathe and you drifted with Katsuki, sinking deeper down into the embrace of the sacred waters. Flecks of fiery red flaked off of your companion, swirling around the two of you until they shattered into fractals to form intricate images. Images of fire and blood. Thick plumes of smoke were rising from the the caravan of tents that your clan made their homes in, blotting out the sky in inky clouds. A flash and you saw your father with a sword hilted into his chest and the culprit was one of his own retainers.

The pool shifted colors then to golden yellow, showing Bakugou trying to warn your father. It showed him being ignored, dismissed that his vision was incorrect and that he just didn’t know what he was seeing. Your body guard hauled you against him, your back pressed up against his chest as he cradled you close. His arms squeezed you tightly, as if he were afraid you would drift away from him if he let go. The fractals of light continued to swirl, shifting to paint out your future, each more grim than the last if you stayed to fight. A thousand and one ways you could try to save your clan and a thousand and one ways you would fail.

“There is no hope for them…” he whispered out hoarsely, “But there is for you…runaway with me.”

“But…but maybe with me there my father will-”

“I’ve already tried to warn him. And I’ve already tried to see that way too. He won’t listen.” Katsuki buried his face into your shoulder, his arms squeezing you even tighter to him, “If you don’t leave…your death is the nicest fate out of all of them.”

“Is there really no other way?”

“No…No there isn’t.” Was he crying? “I’m supposed to protect you but even I can’t stand against an entire fucking army. Princes…please. Runaway with me.”

“But-”

“I can’t save them,” he interrupted, “but dammit I can save you. Don’t be stupid.”

Tears were flowing from your eyes as you felt reality crash down around your ears. Live with your clan wandering the sands was over no matter what choice you made. But the thought of leaving behind your family without even trying left a bitter taste in your mouth. But there was really no way out. And that was how you decided to leave your life and clan behind: bathed in starlight and sinking into a never ending pit.

((Want to participate in Arcane April? Check out my post here about the event and send in your requests!))

[cm-top-10]

C.M. Top 10: Most Dark & Gore Scenes &/or Characters in Cartoon Series

Warning: The following top ten may contain possible spoilers for those who haven't seen newer series. This post may also contain forms of graphic violence & some gore scenes that maybe too much for you to witness. So for your safety & others do not look unless it's at your own risk.

You've been warned...

We all discover at some point in time that not everything you know is allover the rainbow. Most times we see things we can't unsee or learn dark secrets of someone you thought you knew your whole life. & sometimes we learn things the hard way. Or the messed up dark way...

So for this 1st dark Top 10 features the most characters with a dark histories, secrets or just straight up dark/gore scenes. Which character did you not expect to have a dark side? Sadly you be the judge...

1. Invincible - Omni Man beating his son to a pulp.

After learning the dark truth that was revealed to Mark about his father's true intentions. Nolan tells his son the truth about why he was sent to Earth & why he killed the Guardians.

Telling him the reasons why he's here was so he could eliminate any potential threat to the Viltrum Empire. & that he was raising his son not out of responsibility or heroics, but to have him as a bred soldier of the Empire to kill anyone who stood in their way.

& he wanted Mark to join their cause with him.

After Mark angrily refused to help him conquer the planet. Nolan nearly beats the life out of his own son & yells to the top of his lungs saying how pointless it is to protect his home world. While killing millions of innocent people in the process of their brutal fight.

However before he could finish him off, Nolan suddenly realized what he did to his own child & fled the Earth in machspeed, shedding a tear.

They say fatherhood is complicated, but not like this...

2. Castlevania Lords of Shadow - Gabriel's dark fate

While on his journey to slay all three of the Lords of Shadow. Gabriel slowly learned they were the founders of the Order & told him the truth of his order's true intention from each Shadow Lord who too were being used by the Brotherhood of Light. Then when he finally reached the final Lord of Shadow, he learned about his wife's death & fell into dark despair.

Over time his heart grew darkened. & knew nothing but bitterness & sorrow...

But after defeating the three Lords, Laura appears to tell Gabriel that he awakened another ancient evil known as the Forgotten One. Who had plans to destroy all creation & they had to venture to the Brotherhood's fortress to find the entrance to where he was imprisoned.

However only dark begins can enter the realm. & the only way he can bypass it's effects & to defeat this ancient evil, was to become one himself...

So Laura asked him to drink her blood & free her of her torment. Hesitant at first he did what was asked of her & dranked every last drop of her blood, until she died.

He then defeated the Forgotten One & saved mankind. But at a cost of his soul & happiness.

Thus becoming a vampire.

A vampire the world would soon know & fear as Dracul the Dragon.

But that is another story...

3. Baki the Grappler - Yujiro Hanma

As most know Yujiro is the world's most unstoppable & cruelest warrior in the history of fighters. Not even the U.S. Military dares to go near him. Yes Yujiro the Orge has struck fear into many people, even military personnel of different countries. & he did it with no weapons & has turned the U.S. into his personal playground for death & battles.

But the most cruelest thing he's done was ripping the face of one of China's most respected Kaioh masters while facing him in battle, testing his worthiness. The reason Yujiro did this challenge was not to prove his worth but to show all of China & their leaders that they are worthless to him. & showed them all that he doesn't care about their hatred towards Japan noir their worthiness.

& he struck that fear into all who witnessed Ryu Kaioh getting defaced & brutally defeated. Yes this is one man who's definitely going to hell & is going to smile about it.

Because Satan himself would be pissing his buttflap in his sights in fear. While Yujiro fucks his succubus wife in front of his face knowing how little fucks he gives about his "sins."

4. Primal - Sauropod Massacre

After being infected by the Zombie Virus. The infected sauropod becomes a mad rouge & slaughters it's own herd in a bloody rage & massacre.

It left no survivors, ripped them apart & destroyed many of the herds' eggs leaving nothing remaining...

Truly whatever zombie virus this was it drove this poor creature mad & didn't stop until everything wasn't breathing.

Luckily Spear & Fang were able to run it into a dormant volcano. Where the infected dinosaur burnt to ash.

Hopefully now the poor beast is at peace...

5. Star Wars Rebels - Master Luminara's remains

In the search for Luminara to replace Kanan to be Ezra's new master. They soon learned too late that her remains were being used to lure any surviving Jedi out of hiding. So that any Sith Hunters like the Grand Inquisitor would slay them on the spot.

Sadly no one knows whatever happened to her corpse after they escaped. Or if the Empire even still has her.

Rest in peace Luminara wherever you are...

6. Legend of Tarzan - Death of Clayton

While battling in the trees, Tarzan defeated Clayton by tangling him into the jungle vines. But during his blind rage he angrily swiped vine after vine, until one wrapped his neck. Tarzan tried his best to warn him, but in his rage Claton cuts the vine that he was holding on to.

Then after it broke they both plummet to the ground. Tarzan landed safely, Clayton however was hung from above by one of the vines wrapped around his neck after it snapped it straight out from the fall.

There truly are things worse than fate...

7. RWBY - the Death of Adam Taurus

After weeks of stalking Blake & her group. Blake had no choice but to confront Adam for the last time with the help of Yang. The battle was harsh, but in the end they managed to out-think him by stabbing him from different sides. One in his chest & one in the back.

He then fell to his death over a huge waterfall after hitting his head over a ledge before plummeting into the water. Hopefully they've finally seen the last of Adam Taurus.

But let's also hope he doesn't pull a Cinder...

8. TFP Beast Hunters - Predaking beats the scrap out of Ratchet

After using Ratchet to wipe out mankind. The Decepticons threw him into the frails of a vengeful Predaking. Predaking then beats & claws Ratchet, throwing him around like a rag-doll. Until he was ready to finish him off, luckily Ratchet convinced him to hear him out. & told Predaking the truth about what had happened to his Predacon army.

After he told Predaking that it was Megatron who ordered his race's extermination. He asks why he did so & Ratchet replys--

Ratchet: Being on the receiving end of your might. One theory springs to mind, Megatron fears you & any like you.

In his blind rage Predaking stormed his way to Megatron, wiping out anyone who stood in his way.

Which led to his own demise, but that is a story for another time...

9. JoJo's Bizarre Adventure - Stealy Joe gets his ass beat by Jotaro

Now this slimy bastard got what he deserves. Not only did he try to humiliate & blackmail Jotaro into doing his bidding. This cocky motherfucker goes & threatens a random little girl out of the blue. If Jotaro didn't face him like a man & does what he says.

With him up to here with the man's assholeness, our boi Jotaro decided enough is enough & beats the ever loving shit out of this guy. & after punching him multiple times, he literally sends him flying into a wall & throws him his receipt.

Rest in Hell, Joe you worthless bastard!

10. The Falcon Captain America & The Winter Soldier - Captain America U.S. Agent gets his arm broken.

John Walker the former Captain America was given a mantle he wasn't worthy of. Don't get me wrong as much as I had my doubts of him, I was willing to give him a benefit of a doubt. That is until he soiled Steve's good name by using his shield to kill a man in cold blood.

During his blind rage of vengeance, he chased down one of the Flag Smashers & constantly beats him over-&-over with the shield. & then kills him with a fatal blow to the chest area in front of tons of people.

After he murdered one of the perps, Falcon & Bucky tried to ask him to hand over the shield peacefully...

You can take a wild guess what Walker's answer was. He then attacked them with rage & ego, losing his shit. However that ego died as soon as Falcon & Buck breaks his arm to get the shield back. He was then discharged by the U.S. government & was relieved of his duties as Captain America.

Not only that but he then found his way into a dark path he may not be able to uncross.

But that part is another story for another time.

Either way he got dealt some shitty karma.

[a-dorin]

stranger

pairing: the mandalorian x medic!reader 

word count: 2.69k

warnings: cursing, canon typical violence, blood, wounds, burns, references to killing/violence, the taste of blood, sewing a wound up, yearning, pining, an idiot who wears only a beskar helmet and takes on more than he can handle 99.99% of the time

a/n: hi i wrote this in like no time at all so i hope you guys like it. (also at like 2:05 in the morning) also, this takes place during season one, and diverts a little bit  away from canon because he doesn’t have all of his new beskar armor yet (oops) also, sorry if the ending line is shitty i have a hard time with it sometimes 

“i thought this was the last time you were going to pull shit like this on me karga,” you dig your index finger into his chest, your jaw clenched, lips curled in a sneer, “you always say it’s going to be the last time shit like this happens and guess what? it doesn’t ever fucking end does it? i help you one time and--”

the leader hangs his head, raising a hand in defeat, “i am well aware of how you feel about me and the way i do my business. however, this is someone i can’t turn away. and you’re the only person i trust to fix him.”

exhaling, your eyes squeeze shut, “who is it?”

“someone who has been working with me for quite some time,” greef pauses, taking a moment to gauge your reaction, “he’s a skilled bounty hunter, one of the best, actually. typically, he fixes himself right up, but his injuries are far too severe to just ‘sew up’ and go about his business. trust me, i had to do some convincing to even bring him to you.”

through the entryway, a draft rolls in, causing you to shrink into your clothes, “it’s a little too chilly to talk out here. come in, we can discuss my payment, and then i’ll make my decision.”

greef takes a step forward, clearing his throat, “i’ll pay you, and so will he. i am well aware of how you feel about giving my men medical attention. but you do know that i will pay you well for this, right?”

you nod slightly, rubbing your temple with your fingers, “how much are we talking here, karga?” 

“i would like for you to assess his injuries first,” he counters, “then we can talk about payment.”

“fine,” you mutter, crossing over to your table, “please, just bring him in. if he bleeds out on my table, it’s your fault karga!” 

“hopefully there will be none of that,” karga shakes his head, the words so low that you could barely hear him, “i’ll bring him in. let me know when you’re finished.”

swiftly, you gather up your supplies, your hands gathering as much as you could. from the sound of it, things weren’t looking good. reaching out, you pull your cart towards you, practically tossing the supplies on the metallic surface. cursing under your breath, you search for your gloves, eyes frantically searching your surroundings, yet they’re nowhere to be found. 

guess you’d have to get a little messy with this one. 

a long-winded groan startles you from your task at hand, and your heart sinks the moment karga brings him in. he’s donned head to toe in battle armor, the hues of the metal a variety of colors. the only distinguishable piece is a beskar helmet, light reflecting off its surface. 

not once did karga mention that you would be tending to a mandalorian. 

“how bad is it?” you inquire, your voice crisp and cool as you stride over to karga, helping him carry the mandalorian to your table. 

blood seeps through his clothes, soaking the garments with a horrid scarlet. in several spots, there is singed fabric, signifying that he took a few good shots. the mandalorian reeks of burnt flesh and the stench of a battle, your nose wrinkling and bile rising in your throat. 

this was far worse than karga described, and this was no time to start panicking. 

“just a few blaster shots,” the mandalorian cuts in, his voice distorted from a modulator, “nothing that i couldn’t fix myself.”

“ah, ah, ah,” karga interjects, “there’s more to it than that. i believe he has several lacerations, perhaps a few burns from blasters.”

“that beskar couldn’t stop everything huh?” you arch a brow, in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

the mandalorian doesn’t respond, anxiety bubbling up within you, “karga, try and keep him awake as long as you can. i have a few healing stems, along with some bacta shots, but depending on how deep the wounds are, i won’t be able to treat him unless we strip him of the armor.”

“i-i can’t take that off,” the mandalorian gurgles, “i-i, m-my cr-creed.”

“what creed?” you shoot karga a curious glance, guilt plastering his features. 

“he has a creed he follows,” karga inhales sharply, “it’s his way of life.”

your lips part, forming an o. you want to scold karga for not briefing you on all of the minor details, as he normally does with his men. however, there was no time for banter or bickering. 

you had to maintain your composure. 

“how much blood has he lost, you think?” 

“i can’t give you a definite answer on that,” karga takes a step back, allowing you to survey the mandalorian, “i would say a lot, but i’m not too sure. perhaps his garments stopped some of it, or the pressure of his armor.”

“that’s not enough pressure,” you murmur, plucking a pair of shears off your cart, “hey mando, can you hear me? are you still with us?” 

a feeble hand raises from the table, his voice breathy and far away, “i-i’m here. anything but the helmet, please.”

“of course,” your voice is soft and hushed, “the helmet is off limits.”

“now that i’ve got him in here,” karga gestures his head towards the nearly unconscious mandalorian, “he has something back at his ship that i need to tend to. will you need my assistance or can you handle it?” 

“i can handle it,” your voice falters, “go do what you need to do. it may be an hour or two before he’s feeling better.”

“you know how to find me if you need me,” karga’s words trail off as he exits your home, the doors sliding shut behind him. 

“all right mando,” you take his hand, squeezing it, “i’m going to start by removing your armor okay? let me know if you can’t feel anything. that’s when we have a problem.”

“i can feel everything,” he spits out, “fuck. it hurts. it all hurts.”

“you really took a beating huh?” carefully, you start by removing his boots, hastily yet with caution. 

who knew if he took a hit to the spine, paralyzing any point of his body. 

“hey,” you place his boots on the floor, “can you wriggle your toes for me mando?”

immediately, relief ripples through you as you watch his toes move, signaling that there was no nerve damage. next, you remove the plates of armor covering his shins and thighs, placing them directly by his boots. the armor was severely damaged, almost beyond repair, as it was littered with dents and holes. 

how many run-ins did this mandalorian have in his lifetime? how many of his days had he spent fighting? 

“do you have other clothing in your ship?” you press on, slicing the fabric with your shears, “karga mentioned you had a ship.”

“mmmhmmmm,” he hums, “name is the razor crest.”

“ahh,” soaking a rag with bacta spray, you wiped down his exposed legs, assessing his wounds as you did so, “that’s a wonderful name.”

the flesh was only burned, which could be healed almost instantly with the bacta spray. luckily, there wouldn’t be much scar tissue either, only a few minor scars here and there. yet, you wondered if there was an inch of the mandalorian’s body that wasn’t scarred. 

“d-don’t worry so much bout my legs,” he stammers, “it’s my shoulder that i’m worried about. i can feel the blood soaking through.”

“i’ll have to remove the rest of your armor and your tunic,” biting your lip, your hands wrap around his chest plate, desperate to find a way to get it off. 

“hey,” his voice sounds again, this time a lot clearer, “i can get it off. you don’t have to worry about being hasty about this. i’ll make sure you get your sum.”

“i-i just,” you stutter, the taste of blood hitting your tongue as he sits up, “karga sounded so worried and i want to do a good job because the way he talked, you were his best hunter and i just can’t--”

“you won’t fuck anything up,” a hand reaches out, finding yours, “this isn’t anything i haven’t encountered before. the thing is, you’re a trained medic. i’m not. i would probably make a mistake and make my injuries worse somehow. take. your. time.” 

for a moment, your eyes flutter closed, a weary sigh flowing from your lips. you can sense the mandalorian watching you carefully, studying your features through the tinted visor. 

“o-okay,” you whisper. 

the mandalorian sits up, shedding away the remaining pieces of his armor, “would you like for me to roll over?”

you nod, gnawing at your lower lip once more as you realize that this mandalorian, this stranger, was about to be nearly undressed, half-bleeding, half-conscious, on your table. and he was so patient with you. so much kinder than previous patients in the past. 

“wait,” your brow furrows, “your helmet would make it awkward for you to lay on your stomach. how about you move over a little, to the edge of the table?”

“of course.”

he straightens his back, scooting over to give you some space. clambering onto the table, you reach up to adjust your light. taking your rag, you wipe down his back and shoulders, muscles rippling under your touch. every so often, your fingertips graze his heated skin as you lose yourself in your work. 

you catch a quiet groan as you continue to work, your heart fluttering. 

the sound wasn’t drenched with pain, nor anywhere near the noise you first encountered when he was being brought in by karga. 

this was a sound of contentment, a sound of bliss. 

“how long has it been since you’ve felt someone’s touch?”

shame burns through you the moment the question tumbles from your lips, nearly consuming you whole as he tenses. maker, did you feel so guilty. he was a stranger to you. how could you just blatantly ask that? 

the answer arrives, short and sweet. 

“too long.”

leaning over, you press a piece of cloth on his shoulder, a lengthy laceration stretching from his clavicle to his left shoulder blade, “oh, i see.”

“do you usually get this close and personal with your patients?”

“depends,” you shrug, “hey, i’m about to sew you up. it may sting.”

plunging the needle in, you press yourself to his back as you start the suture, your breath fanning against his neck. the mandalorian stiffens as he catches a whiff of your scent, and how it was so heavenly as it wafted into his nostrils. 

his jaw clenches as he chokes back a hiss of pain, remaining as still as possible. 

“you’re being so good for me,” your voice floods his ear, the praise nearly causing him to crumble completely. 

within seconds, you’re all finished, sliding off the table, “i take it that karga is coming back with a change of clothes?”

“i hope so.”

gazing over at your table, you notice the healing stems, “i have some healing stems for your travels. they’ll probably help with that dull pain you’ll have in that area for a while. it won’t be an issue unless you somehow reopen that wound. if it was any closer to any major artery in your neck, you would’ve bled out.”

“i’ll take them.”

“well,” you hand them to him, “take them before you forget them. you seem like the forgetful type.”

a low chuckle erupts from the beskar, “i don’t think i could forget a night like--”

a knock on the doors interrupts the mandalorian’s sentence, cutting it short. as you make your way over, you hear a string of curses flowing from the table. more than likely his native tongue. pressing a button, the doors slide open, revealing greef karga and a strange, little creature, swathed by a bundle of clothing in his arms. 

“you were fast,” karga remarks, cradling the creature, “how is he?”

“he’s fine,” your focus is directed away from karga, honing in on the creature, “who is this?”

“this is what i had to retrieve from his ship. he’s a very precious child. extremely important to that mandalorian over there.”

the child coos, its eyes two vast pools of obsidian. he blinks, a tiny hand flailing out. you melt, lips curling into a broad smile, “hello, little one. are you looking for your father?”

“he is,” the mandalorian echoes from across the space. 

karga enters, keeping the child against his chest as he strides over, placing the bundle next to the mandalorian. from a distance, you watch fondly as the child teeters towards the bounty hunter, an incoherent blubber sounding as his guardian pats his head, reassuring him that they would no longer be separated. 

within minutes, the mandalorian was springing to his feet, with a fresh set of a clothes, the same armor strapped to his frame. the child is in his embrace now, clinging onto his thumb. karga hovers by his side, more than likely filling him in on the next mission. the next victim to hunt. 

“how should i pay you?” his voice, one you had grown familiar over the course of the hour, fills your ears. 

“oh,” you blink, “um, don’t worry about it. you have far more important things to--”

“no,” his tone is firm, “you deserve some sort of payment.”

“she lives here after all,” karga remarks, folding his arms across his chest, “i could pay her any time.”

“how about you head out so that we can discuss this a little more privately?” he turns to karga, the query almost more of a command than a question. 

“of course,” karga dips his head, shifting towards you, “i’ll see you around. hopefully this is the last time i spring a patient on you.”

“i’m sure it won’t be the last,” you roll your eyes playfully, “see you around, karga.”

“tell me, how much do i owe you? name anything in the galaxy and it’s yours.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you snort, “you don’t owe me anything. you could’ve died and you’re worried about paying me.”

“because you deserve it,” he takes a step forward, the space between the two of you dissipating, “from the sound of it, you let this happen quite frequently. you don’t get paid enough for it either.”

“how about you pay me a visit the next time you make a pitstop in nevarro,” your eyes fall to the floor, careful to not meet his gaze, “would that be enough?”

a gloved hand grasps your chin, tilting your head up. 

“oh cyar’ika, that would be more than enough.”

the child giggles, bouncing, “maybe you should get a move on. he seems hungry. there’s a cantina not too far away from here. they serve good food, even if the locals get a bit rowdy. i bet it’s nothing you run into, though.”

“it’s probably best if i leave nevarro.”

“be safe out there mando,” you whisper.

“i will.”

just like that, he’s out the door, leaving your knees weak, heart all aflutter. 

as the mandalorian made his way to the razor crest, child in tow, his mind was reeling, all of his thoughts honing in one particular thing. 

a medic on nevarro, who mentioned briefly that he seemed to the forgetful type. yeah, he traveled near and far, to all rims and edges of the galaxy, but he was one to forget people, nor faces. he encountered so many species: human, twi’leks, wookiees, chiss, you name it.

the moment he stepped foot on the razor crest, he yearned. the desire burning through him, aching and desperate. 

stars, how he longed to go back. just for one more glimpse. one more glimpse of that stranger’s face, that beautiful face. 

he was determined though, determined to find his way back. perhaps in a few days, even. the mandalorian was relentless, especially when it came to getting what he craved. and oh, how he craved to know the name of the stranger on nevarro. 

someone who would no longer be a stranger to the mandalorian. 

he just knew it.

[cerberusdailynews]

[PEOPLE] Interview with an Ardat-Yakshi

By Cil M’riste, freelance storyteller xposted to Freelance News, Cerberus Daily News, The Watch, and 14 others The Ardat-Yakshi condition is one of our oldest myths. One that is largely presumed to be legend by a large portion of the galaxy’s population. The term “ardat-yakshi” appears in fantasy books, in extranet games, and even in extranet RP forums. But what is the condition, and what is the myth? Most people will never even meet those with the underpinning medical issue. But I happened to get a chance to sit down with someone with the condition, to get her thoughts on a few issues facing people like herself. I myself am not a doctor, nor any legal scholar. So any information provided by this interview can only be taken as a small view into a larger issue. They are the opinions and lived experiences of but one person living with the condition. The rest of the article will be presented in a Q/A format, with a set of final thoughts from myself. Cil (C): "Hi, Nara. It's nice to meet you! Thanks for doing this. How was the trip here?" Nara (N): "Um... nice to meet you too, Cil, my job is to pilot a freighter between here and Palaven, so I make this trip a lot. This time it was a little slower than usual. You'd think traffic jams wouldn't be a thing in three-dimensional space, but with the amount of starship traffic around the Citadel, that's not always true. But I assume you're not here to interview me about my trip. You're here to interview me because I'm an Ardat-Yakshi. Well... Ask away." C:"Oh, no. While that’s true, that it's not what we came here for, I'm not aiming to rush you. But if you'd like to get into it, certainly. Let's see…" N: "Yeah, I'd like to get the tough questions out of the way sooner, I've been stressed out about this interview for like the whole day, and once we get those out of the way it'll be a huge load off my back." C: “Well, for starters. All most of us know about Ar- about those with your condition is that they are... well, extremely controlled, to put it mildly. Most of that knowledge comes from vids and games and all manner of fictional sources, so I don't even know if that's actually part of their thing, but for the sake of asking... Have you ever had an encounter with a Justicar?" N: "I can neither confirm nor deny that, unfortunately. Damn it. Uhhhhh... some of it, but not all of it, will probably be declassified in like fifty years or something. If we're both still around then, I can answer that question. But I think this is the only question that would run into that problem, so feel free to ask anything else you want." C:"So if there's something to declassify that insinuates, at least in my view, at least a tip to the scales in the 'yes' direction. But we'll move on, for sure. Hopefully this one is a little more easily answered. Now, as I understand it, for obvious reasons you've spent your life outside of the Asari Republics entirely. What has life been like for you living away from the traditional asari space?" N: "That... is quite a broad question, you could get a whole interview out of that, if you wanted. But if you want a short answer... On Palaven, especially in the city I grew up in, there weren't very many asari. I spent my whole childhood trying to fit in with my turian neighbors, and I didn't really have other asari to interact with other than my parents. When I became an adult, I enlisted to join the Turian military, where I stayed for most of my life so far, then retired to the reserves several years ago. I ended up having to become a cabalist since I was a biotic, like almost all asari are. There was only one other asari in my cabal though, and we didn't really get along much. First deployment was to Irune, which was pretty peaceful. Also met my wife there, so it made up for having to wear an exosuit all the time. Second deployment was to Solregit, which was... not peaceful. There was a rebellion on the planet's northern hemisphere that wanted to secede from the Hierarchy, which I'm sure you've heard about before. And, of course, I helped defend Palaven during the Reaper War. If there's anything you'd like me to go into more detail about, ask away." C:"Wife? Can you explain how that happened? Were they aware of...everything?" [Nara showed me some pictures here] N:"We met through an online dating service, actually. I stated up-front in my profile that my condition made it impossible for me to meld with anyone, or... be intimate in a way that could risk me accidentally melding with them. But Jin wasn't really interested in either of those things, so we were both happy together in spite of that. I think I have some wedding photos in my omnitool I can show you. That's her. That's Jin. And that's me next to her, but it's hard to tell it's me because the suit obscures my face." C:"Awwww. Those are lovely pictures. Many of us in our maiden stage don't settle down so easily. Do you think living in a mostly turian area growing up influenced your desire to commit to someone that early? And if you don't mind another question to move us along... You seem relatively outspoken about your condition. Is there a reason you feel the need to take what most people would likely consider the risky position of putting yourself and your condition out there without secrecy?" N: "To answer your first question, I would say yes, absolutely. Most of my turian peers, those who did settle down, at least, tended to do so in their thirties. I was thirty-eight years old when I married Jin, which is a little above average for a turian but I found out later that it was like, crazy low for an asari. Your second question is kind of complicated because I have multiple reasons. Firstly, and most importantly, is that somebody needs to speak out. If any of the Ardat-Yakshi in the Republics tried to do an interview like this, they'd be killed or locked up by Justicars or by the government or an angry mob of other asari. I'm still worried sometimes that they'll try and do that to me anyway, even though I've never been to asari space, and if it's a justicar I don't stand any chance of winning a one-on-one fight with one. I have a responsibility to speak up for those who can't speak for themselves, while I still can. Secondly, I'm from the Hierarchy and Turian culture places a very very strong value on honesty. Directly lying about my condition would go against everything I stand for. Thirdly, if what I say informs people about Ardat-Yakshi, it lessens the risk of other Ardat-Yakshi accidentally or, though I'm sad to say it, intentionally injuring or killing innocent people. If even one life is saved, even if I get killed, speaking up will have been worth it. Lastly, though this isn't that important since it only affects my personal life, but I am really, really, annoyed by stereotypes about asari promiscuity and especially asari maiden promiscuity. Letting it be known that I can't sleep with anyone because it could kill them cuts down on unwanted propositioning by, like, ninety percent." C: "Thank you… Those answers definitely shed some light on why you're willing to be rather public about these things. It's a good goal, wanting less people to be hurt. The idea of informing others actually leads quite nicely into my next question. I'm fairly certain I know the answer to this one- But are there any big myths that are simply false, or incomplete information that you think people should know the truth about?" N: "Well, to start things off, basically everything in stuff like Galaxy of Fantasy is wrong. We don't have magic powers, we can't resurrect the dead, et cetera. Most of these should be fairly obviously false, so I'm not going to spend that much time on them because otherwise I'd have to spend all day ranting about stuff like that one human I met who claimed I was somehow a real-life vampire or something. I get so many vampire comparisons. It's annoying. Ardat-yakshi aren't vampires. There's like, no connection at all. Anyway, to get back on track, there's one very important myth I would like to dispel. The ardat-yakshi medical condition is actually a spectrum. The lethal variant of the condition, which I have, is very very rare, but there are other variants that aren't lethal, and are much more common. At the mildest and most common end you have people who just give their meld partners temporary headaches, though most people with this variant don't actually know that what they have is technically a variant of the ardat-yakshi disease, and the Republics don't persecute them like they do with people like me. However, they're still infertile, just like anyone else on the A-Y spectrum. Further along the spectrum, the condition gets bad enough that each meld basically gives the ardat-yakshi's meld partner a concussion, and then even further along the spectrum comes permanent brain damage from each meld, and some ardat-yakshi can even leave their partners comatose in extreme cases. Or dead." C:"Thank you for your answers. I can't imagine it's easy to talk about some of this, given the way the disorder is regarded. Now that we've discussed things that are false, what are some true things you wished other people knew about it?" N: "Well, melding is actually addictive for Ardat-Yakshi, just as the Republics and Justicars say it is. I'm not exactly sure how addictive it is, since at the time of my only meld, which was before I knew I was an Ardat-Yakshi of course, I was already trying to fight off an Aurora addiction. I'm not sure what withdrawal effects were from that and what were from the meld, but it's definitely possible to fight off the addiction. Secondly, Ardat-Yakshi serial killers, though I would like to emphasize that they are very, very rare and are in no way representative of the average A-Y sufferer, do actually exist. They normally don't get very far in the Republics proper, since an autopsy can reveal how the victims died and you can test suspects for the Ardat-Yakshi medical condition. But outside asari space, people don't know how to actually catch the serial killers because the Republics keep trying to suppress information about Ardat-Yakshi, and the serial killers can amass staggering body counts because of that. The Republics would seemingly let hundreds of innocent people die to... um... avoid making themselves look bad or something? I'm actually kind of confused as to why they don't just tell everyone the truth for once." C: "Hm. That makes sense. But what about asari colonies, or even nations with asari majority or pluralities? Surely the condition can occur in them as well? Even if the Republics are, as you say, loath to reveal the truth, surely someone out there has been doing research too? That's just a thought though, I don't actually expect you to know what groups or nations all across the Terminus might be doing." N:"As far as I know, the condition, well, the forms of the condition severe enough to be dangerous, anyway, is rare enough that research isn't prioritized, especially since A-Y is basically a pureblood exclusive disease and asari colonies outside the Republics tend to have fewer purebloods." C:"Well, I have two more questions planned, so we're really scooting along here. Thank you again for sitting down with me. Let's see... Are there any mistakes you've made in your efforts to spread awareness for this condition?" N:"Well, with the fact that so few Ardat-Yakshi are able to speak openly about their conditions, when I talk to people about this, I'm basically the only Ardat-Yakshi that most people ever know about. Since I'm their only reference point, I worry that people will take my flaws and apply them to everyone with the condition. I admit, I'm not the best figurehead. I'm a convicted criminal, albeit for something I don't want to discuss here. I'm a veteran of a, to put it mildly, controversial war on Solregit. And I don't get along with people sometimes, along with other various personality flaws. But there are Ardat-Yakshi who are better people than I am. They simply never got the chance to speak out, like I do. One more question, and then I have to get back to my ship." C:"Of course, I don't want to take up too much of your time. I only had one last one planned anyway." Well we've spoken about many aspects of the situation as-it-is. What, to you, would a more just policy look like in the Republics?" N: "To put it simply, equality under the law. No preemptive targeting of Ardat-Yakshi based on what we might do, with the monasteries as a strictly voluntary institution. Ardat-Yakshi who have knowingly hurt or murdered people should still be arrested, like any other criminal. Ardat-Yakshi who do not harm others should be treated the same as anyone else. All I ask is that you judge each of us by our own actions, not the actions of others." C:"A fine answer. One I think the vast majority of people can empathize with. I understand. You probably have a schedule to keep. But it's been a pleasure getting to know you some, Nara. I look forward to writing this up." With the interview concluded, I walked away with a few different feelings. I entered the conversation a little nervously. I had no more special knowledge of the AY condition than any other asari out there. Since I’m not a doctor I can’t speak to the accuracy of any of the medical specific claims my guest made. But I felt that her desire to make more information known was genuine. During the conversation there were certainly no feelings of threat or manipulation that I picked up on. And I sympathize greatly with the idea of wanting to be treated the same as everyone else. It was a very interesting conversation; and one that opens a window into a phenomena that is very rarely covered in anything but fiction. I hope you enjoyed the small look into the world of Ardat-Yakshi as much as I enjoyed bringing it to you.

[wowtobio]

pls feed me with ur incredible writing. Iwa angst bc I haven't cried in a while lol.

Cheater! Iwaizumi x reader (angst)

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

a/n: haha this made me laugh, ur too kind my writing is not that good so i cannot guarantee tears

It’s been awhile since I wrote my guy iwa and angst, hopefully this doesn’t turn out too bad eheh this is also sort of like an 800 followers special. Thank you all so much for following and reading my works, i cannot express it any other way :)

warning: angst, cursing, slight mentions

Part 1 | Part 2

You expected this to happen, as hard as it is to swallow the bitter truth that threatened to burn down your whole marriage. This man, what happened? The time he would sacrifice in order to spend just some time with you, only now consumed by his company forcing him to work overtime presumably. The words he spoke to you, full of meaning were now void of emotion and as cold and sharp as icicles hanging from the rooftop edge during winter nights. The love and adoration his eyes used to hold catered only for you.

Where did it go?  

Suddenly, the golden band adorned with emerald jewels did not shine as brightly as it used too. Though you kept yours on, it seems his own band was often absent. But you bit your lip, afraid to voice out queries that could end up in another pointless argument. 

The door shut hard, yet you do not jump from your seat like you used too. Keeping your blank eyes forward staring at the static of the television. No words, no welcomes were heard. 

The calming night breeze coming from an open window only served to add more coldness in the living room.

Recently, all the nagging you did would not serve you both justice. You were only worried for your husband, why did it seem like all he did was yell at you? A simple question concerning what was for dinner would always end up in heated words. 

“You can eat alone.” 

“But, I just wanted to eat dinner with you, I waited so lo-”

“And why should I care? Just leave me be I’m too tired to deal with you right now.”

But, you always seem like you don’t want to deal with me..

Soon, it all ceased to exist. Any conversation or fight in this matter, it all scurried away as fear of more spiteful words would dig deep into your chest and sting greatly. 

But tonight was different, you just missed him so much.

Standing slowly, you trudge behind him wordlessly wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face into his broad back. He stands frozen, you wish you could see his facial expression. Iwaizumi’s gaze is casted down at the arms enveloping him.

You guessed your arms were pretty skinny now, when was the last time you even had a proper meal? 

You tried to ignore the feminine, floral fragrance that lingered on his button up, a scent you know for sure you did not use. 

Minutes passed, what felt like hours. After Iwaizumi snapped out of his state, he easily shrugged you off and continued to your once shared bedroom. And all you could do was hold out your now empty arms and stare at his receding form.

No tears shed, you ran out of them awhile ago. However, that familiar aching pain still stirred deep within your gut.

Another night on the couch it seems.

When was the last time you were happy? Your friends voice concern for your well-being, the sparkle in your eyes now dulled to a mere dull light. Eventually you stopped hearing their distressed voices when you started to decline their offers of going out.

There was no point in forcing yourself to go anywhere anymore. It was more convenient to mask yourself as to not cause anymore worry.

But, this one night you decided to go out. Maybe it was to escape the realms that reminded you of your dying relationship. You texted Iwaizumi, it’s been awhile since you clicked on his contact. And of course, no response. Probably didn’t even glance at the notification. 

Whatever, you gulped down another shot, your step wobbled slightly. Things did not change, your friends held the same hidden worries for you. 

Was it a coincidence that his best friend was there? I mean he was quite the party animal nowadays. His casual, flirty tone ignored by you. Until you voiced heading home early, not wanting to keep your husband waiting. Oikawa’s eyes darkened, he knew something you didn’t. 

And that something was met with you when you quietly open the door to your shared apartment. The thumping of your heart was probably louder than the one heard from your shared bed. 

Suddenly, your surroundings were starting to blur in your vision. Was it the alcohol? Or have you finally lost it?

Hands shaking, you grasp the golden doorknob. Nothing to lose now, as you swung open the only barrier hiding the ugly truth. A shriek, a barely audible gasp and a sob. 

He didn’t even react, he didn’t scramble the way that busty bitch did when she made futile attempts to pick up her clothing and leave. He didn’t even look at your trembling form. 

After the woman hastily left your apartment, taking your dignity along with her. All you could do is silently stand there, hot tears streaming down your pale complexion. Hajime’s eyes, as always casted down at the sheets he committed great sin in. 

You make eye contact with him one last time. It was only a second, yet you saw it all. All the lies he hid, the hatred he held for you. He hid it so well, and you were a fool to not notice how obvious it was.

No more, you ran out of the apartment in the same fashion that woman he indulged with did. 

Days passed. Weeks as well. No apologies, no contact, no moments of crossings, nothing. This is what your marriage has come too. Months of drowning in tears and alcohol.  

The feeling of worthlessness, ugliness, everything negative consumed your being during this dark time. Your phone untouched, flooded with texts and calls from friends and family. But you didn't have the energy to respond back with empty lies. It didn’t matter, out all of those messages his name never popped up. 

How could he do this to you? How could he love you to the point of marriage only to ignore you til the downfall? How could he steal everything away from you like this? Your first kiss, your first time, your hand in marriage. And to just take that all away and leave you with absolutely nothing but heartache and painful thoughts. 

You pondered this, who knows how long you will continue too. And as you scroll down your social media feed for the first time in awhile, Oikawa’s constant post flooded your timeline, one particular caught your eye. A candid selfie of the pretty setter, your ex-husband and a girl clad in a white sundress and sun hat. The girl had perfect wavy, long brown hair that complimented her hazelnut eyes. A body of a goddess and a beautiful smile. Her delicate and dainty arms wrapped around the bicep of your ex-lover. 

Hajime’s face was caught off guard, yet overall he did not seem the least bit effected by the events that happened just months ago. 

It broke you, why was he happier now without you? Though he left you all alone to wallow in your own sadness and selfishness. 

You did not get it, and you never will. As you sobbed deeply into your arms on that cold night, the stars shone brightly into the room barely enveloping your quivering body, all you could ask yourself is where did it all go wrong?

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

a/n: idk abt y’all but i think the most painful heartbreak is watching someone fall out of love with u. but once again thank you for reading my blogs you guys :’) i seriously cannot thank you enough 

masterlist