#shadow is lovely but too serious for him because he himself is a lawful good character

[nathanprscott]

deciding who to date has never been harder than in baldur's gate..

[broken-spirit101]

Kamaboko Squad Yandere Headcanons

A/N: Reposting this from my Wattpad book because I don't have any ideas for anything new 🤩

Warnings: Nezuko is platonic, mentions of kidnapping, mild language, and of course, yandere themes

Tanjiro: ➼ If he's the one who loves you as a yandere, you wouldn't even have to lay a finger if you don't want to.

➼ He's the kind who would definitely spoil you. Want some chocolate? You're getting your favorite kind of chocolates, homemade. Too tired to clean up after a long day? He'll help you bathe. He's super respectful, his eyes never wandering to where they don't belong, making you always feel safe within his company. He's definitely househusband material.

➼ He absolutely loves it when he's in both you and Nezuko's company. He adores the fact that you love his sister (probably even more than you love him, but he doesn't need to know that). You being Nezuko's sister-in-law would be his ultimate dream.

➼ He hates the fact that you're also a demon slayer. After almost losing his entire family, his biggest nightmare would be losing you or Nezuko. If he could, he would resign you from the corps immediately.

➼ Tanjiro is more of a protective yandere. Red flag? If you're talking to anyone he doesn't fully trust, you bet your butt he's lurking in the shadows watching you interact with them. If he gets too concerned for your safety, there's a very small chance that he'll kidnap you (it needs to be a very serious concern if he does that). However, he would make sure you'll be comfortable in your room where you're kidnapped, even if you're tied by chains. 

➼ He can't imagine himself being with anyone else. You're his and only his, and he's going to make you see that too. No matter what it takes.

Zenitsu: ➼ Oh god. He would be a handful to deal with.

➼ Hearing "Marry me!!!" would be a common occurrence for you to deal with every day. Your mans would do anything to please you. If you asked him to, he would probably climb Mount. Everest for you. Around you, he would almost always be blushing and giving you compliments. He would make sure you hear that he loves you every single day, which annoys others to no limits.

➼ Zenitsu would do anything to get alone time with you, which rarely happens as he's always surrounded by Inosuke and Tanjiro. When he does get alone time with you though, he would be over the moon. He likes to make you sweets sometimes when he's free, as he's surprisingly good at baking.                              

➼ He thinks absolutely about you is perfect. Fighting demons? You look so awesome. Drinking water? You're pretty as hell. Talking? His full attention is on your pretty face. Showering? He thinks your body looks- erm, never mind. 

➼ The only thing he dislikes regarding you is how Tanjiro and Inosuke are always around you. If they aren't, you're around Nezuko. Sure, he loves them too, but he loves you the most. Probably more than anything in the entire world.

➼ He would be more of a delusional yandere. Red flag? He gets jealous very often. Really often. If he thinks you're not giving enough attention to him, he'll probably go sulk somewhere till you grow worried and come to find him. Or maybe he'll try to make you jealous instead, by clinging to someone else, probably Nezuko (earning bonus glares by Tanjiro).

➼ In his mind, both of you are meant to be with each other. Maybe he's too scared to actually make a move on you for now, but he'll do it. Eventually. 

Inosuke: ➼ The only thing I can say is, SAYONARA.

➼ God, it would take him decades to realize his feelings for you. He often mistakes his feelings for competitiveness, so he would demand fights from you at least twice a day at minimum. He gets very reckless with you during fights to calm down his energy from simply seeing you. He would act the same around you as he does with Tanjiro and Zenitsu, but still somewhat calmer and more protectively.

➼ He's happy as long as he's around you, although he would never admit it. You taught him to read and write basic Japanese, so he even writes you letters when you're away on solo missions in distant places, although they usually look like "If you get injured by those bastard demons, I'll kill you." Yeah, Zenitsu taught him to write swear words.

➼ He craves physical touch, whether it's romantic or in a fight. He doesn't care as long as his skin is in contact with yours. It could be simply holding hands, but knowing that you're with him at the moment is very comforting for him. You probably don't mind holding hands with him either.

➼ He hates how you could be reckless and jump in to save someone if needed. Sure, he's even more reckless, but he can't understand why you would risk yourself in order to protect a random stranger. He would much rather sacrifice himself over you.

➼ In a fight, you both are a very good duo. Your abilities are very similar (the only thing is that Inosuke can't detect auras, but he's much better at things like spatial awareness), and his recklessness is often balanced by your strategic approach to battles. However, whenever you tell him strategies to continue a fight, he wouldn't listen nine out of ten times. But when he does get too injured to continue fighting Inosuke style, he puts your strategies into practice.

➼ He's a total possessive yandere. Red flag? He doesn't know how to express his feelings very well. Even if he wants to do something as wholesome as hugging, he's gonna ask for it in a very aggressive way like "OI (Y/N), HUG ME OR ELSE 🔪". Red flag #2? His possessiveness can get out of control. He dislikes it whenever you make independent decisions and/or tell him to do something. He wants you to be fully dependent on him.

➼ If it were up to him, he would kidnap you and never let you out of his sight. You were his, no matter what.

Nezuko:  ➼ She absolutely adores you, just as much as she adores Tanjiro. She could never choose between the two of you, though. To her, you're both irreplaceable. 

➼ Nezuko. Absolutely. Loves. Cuddles. She wouldn't be able to function normally if she didn't get her daily dose of cuddles and head pats. She hates how she's unable to talk to you normally because of her muzzle. If she could talk normally though, she would spend the entire day chatting with you. Not a single moment of boredom would exist.

➼ She can easily understand you most of the time, and you can understand her too eight out of ten times. In her perfect version of life, Tanjiro and you would be married and all three of you would live in the same home (maybe even along with Urokodaki). She tends to see the three of you and Urokodaki as a family.

➼ Like Tanjiro, she hates the fact that you have to put yourself in danger along with Tanjiro. What if something happened to you while she was peacefully sleeping? Just thinking about that makes her extremely paranoid.

➼ A high-pitched "mhm-hmm" means she's happy. If it's a low-pitched one, that means that she is determined to complete the task that she's been assigned. A single quiet "hmm" means that she's sad and/or craving your attention.

➼ She's a clingy yandere. Red flag? It's easy for her to manipulate you into doing something she wants. She's aware of her cuteness and she's not afraid to use it as a weapon. Nevertheless, she would never manipulate you into doing something that she knows would upset you too much.

➼ I would be willing to place my bets that the Kamado siblings are secretly conspiring with each other to make you know that you belong with them, and ONLY them.

Map

[terrence-silver]

Hey hey! Been thinking of McCain lately... do you possibly have any headcons for Terry McCain x criminal!beloved? Would love to hear your thoughts on this!

---

― Yes, he will judge you. Of course he will judge you. He doesn't have an understanding or too much empathy for your particular lifestyle or your particular kind. He thinks it is wrong. That you're wrong. That the way you live is wrong. That you're endangering innocent civilians and people in law enforcement alike, one way or another, or at least that the people you associate with do, and that by extension, you bear part of the moral blame. That you should be apprehended, corrected and penalized, plain and simple. You're one of the many reasons this city is the way it is and the reason why his job is the way it is and if we're honest, yes, Terry McCain will be very much antagonistic and a full-on hard ass in the beginning. Just part of his overall personality, belief system and professional deformation. At best, he thinks you need rehabilitation within the system itself, behind bars, perhaps doing some sort of community work --- pretty much whatever the judge decides, and that's him being extremely kind. At worst? Well, at worst, he thinks that if the justice of said system fails (which, in his experience, it often does, unfortunately) and doesn't punish you the way he feels is due, that good old vigilantism can easily take its place and that he should just do it himself. As usually. Wouldn't be the first time for him.

― Now, it doesn't even matter what sort of criminal activity the subject of his fixation indulges in. Could be smaller thievery and pickpocketing around supermarkets to survive, vandalism, vagrancy, peddling narcotics, using said narcotics, sex work (and he does see this as a criminal offense), entanglement with the local mobs or flat out something larger, more serious that gets his attention much easier, but still, Terry will behave borderline paternalistic in a 'You live like this?' sort of way where he tries, at least tries to correct you and yes, it could come off passive aggressive to aggressive initially. He will not be a nice person to run into, let us be real for a second. He doesn't intend to be nice to you. He intends to set you straight and scare you into behaving properly. Be it by getting in your face, snarking you, threatening arrests, actually arresting, getting physical, taking you into custody overnight, writing you tickets, hitting you with fees; it really doesn't matter. This particular detective? He's doing too much. He's doing the job of an ordinary, day-to-day, commonplace streetcorner cop. Something that doesn't even pertain to his high function. So, why does he do it? Why is he on your case? Shouldn't he be after bigger crooks out there?

― Not even McCain himself knows why he does what he does, truth to tell. He thinks he's doing right by the streets of Chicago, the overall public peace and justice itself, with no task 'too small' for him due to him being humble about doing his work and doing it well (often by any means necessary), but truth of the matter, these are the beginnings of his obsession rearing their head, without him realizing or even wanting to admit to it. Whatever you're doing is a problem for the smalltime police, not a full blown detective, but he tells himself the police is overworked and overburdened and not always capable of doing the job it is meant to do so he has to step in. He has no choice, see. You've given him no choice. As such, he's always where you are. Always in your shadow. Always close by. Always seeping venom into your face. Always measuring your behavior. Warning you. Always there. If someone didn't know this man has a badge it would be easy to imagine him as a stalker, which is exactly what he is anyway. An possessive stalker at that. If the smalltime police he branded as 'overworked' actually steps in on your case he might actually step in himself, telling his own colleagues off, because you're his project. He'll deal with you himself. Nobody else will.

― Of course it is safe to say you've crawled inside of his brain and that even in his downtime he's thinking of you. Collecting files on you. Using and abusing his powers to amass intel. Making notes on you. Your associates. Pondering you even if he's otherwise engaged in a relationship with someone else. Pacing around his apartment in the dead of night just letting his intrusive thoughts run back to you, what you're doing right now. Right this very instant. Might just hit the streets to find you and track you down, feeling that this very moment, you could be up to no good, as always. Might just get into an altercation and save you if you're in trouble, justifying that he's still a good guy at the end of the day and that it is your own fault for living the life you do. If you lived correctly, this wouldn't be happening, or at least not as frequently. Now, what if he wasn't here to protect you? What do you think could've happened to you!? He's behaving less like a guy in law enforcement tackling a criminal and more like a concerned, albeit abjectly judgmental and difficult friend sharing some tough love to someone who has strayed. A worried parent, a worried, dare I say, loved one? His delivery isn't always mellow, but he feels his heart is in the right place.

― Of course his colleagues notice McCain has a fixation that just goes way beyond the professional and straight into the personal, and whether they call him out on it or not, he might just very much deny it or deny he's having the type of fixation they claim he's having all while still running amok whenever you're in question. At this point, he wants to rehabilitate you himself because he feels this is his cross to bear and nobody can bear it for him. He won't allow anyone else to bear it. Tries to have well meaning talks with you, one on one. Finds you address and breaks in to check on your dwelling situation. Tries to downright irritate and wear you down into listening to him for once because he knows better. Should he just cuff you, drive off with you and get you to listen like that, by force? Tries to fix your life for you because...he cares, damnit. Ensures you can't shake him off. The streets, lowlife dens, these lairs, hangouts and shady places are not fit for you. The company you keep isn't fit you, notwithstanding that his concern is peppered with jealousy because his company, he feels, is infinitely worthier. A good life is possible. Or a better life, for starters.

― Might start arresting all your ehm, compatriots out on the streets, one by one, if his beloved has any, to the point you'll be the only one left, totally isolated and cut off from the rest of them, with him, ironically, as your only support system and the only one you could possibly turn to. He's totally not envious, no. See? He's serious. Don't mess with him. He's not to be trifled with. Only reason he hasn't done it to you (yet) is because he thinks, no, he knows in fact, that you've potential. That you're better than them. There's a good heart somewhere in there. You don't need yet another police dossier besmirching your future, do you? What you need is an intervention. He'll offer you an intervention, sure, all while not being fully aware he needs an intervention too because he's fallen and he's fallen hard. Terry McCain has fallen for you to the point of bias, blindness and even starting to justify you in ways he wouldn't dream of doing before. Well, maybe you strayed down the path you did because of a bad childhood. Maybe the infrastructure is broken. You're disenfranchised. Urban poverty is rampant and offers little opportunities. The influence of corrupt people has corrupted you too.

― Fact is, yes, Terry McCain is in love to the point of complete and utter desperation, a moral crisis, an identity crisis and even righteous fury at your general circumstances, precisely because he cares for you so much and he's affected to the point of overemotional, unhinged rage at how you've been living before he's met you and after he has as well. What you must've gone through. What you allowed yourself to happen. What others around you allowed to happen to you. It is an extremely slowburn realization, but it is a realization nonetheless. He wants to scoop you up. Take you. Protect you. Look after you. Ensure you never go down a bad, dangerous or negative path again, not while he's alive and even if he's not. He wants to apprehend, put away and wreak havoc on every pimp, kingpin, trafficker, drug dealer, gang leader, gangster, mobster or handler who's ever used you for nefarious purposes out on the legal margins of society. Convinced you to do bad. Profited off of it. If Terry was your natural enemy before, he's not just a friend now, he's an advocate for your general well-being. Your saintly guardian. The thought of you not being safe or living a life that is dangerous sends to a dark, decrepit place where he could downright start killing just to ensure you're alright.

― He becomes gentle, yes. You're no longer a criminal or some common thug he can manhandle or push around in his eyes. Rather, you become someone who was seduced down a bad road. Someone groomed. Taken advantage of. Someone blackmailed. Someone whose situation offered them no way out. Someone in need of rescue. A victim. A victim he must avenge. He deals in absolutes. You're either the villain or you're the angel. His angel. No in-betweens. Just about adores you to the point he refuses to acknowledge any fault of yours and if he does, he finds ways to justify those as well. Delusional, much? Maybe. His vocabulary becomes infinitely more considerate and so do his actions towards you, at least. He ensures you're sheltered. Rehabilitated. Away from bad influences and in fact, away from all influences that isn't his own. He uses all the powers within his position to make sure you're taken care of and that he's right there taking care of you too, and in fact, that he's the main and only person taking care of you. Yes, his intentions are amorous. And yes, once this trial period is over, you're coming with him because he'll make you the honest person he knows you're capable of being. What choice is there? Do you want to go jail and do time? Hit the streets again? Terry McCain would never allow that.

― Ideally, whether beloved's criminal (or ex-criminal) or not, Terry imagines a very conventionally and traditionally idyllic life no matter how you slice it. Perhaps even more so if you had what would be deemed 'a worrying past'. To counter that, the future should be kinder, warmer, all the more normal to balance things out and redeem everything and yeah, he thinks that's a goal worth fighting for. Yes, he wants a Christmas Tree, he wants sappy, ugly sweaters and opening presents with you next to a roaring fireplace, he wants a home with you, he wants weekends at some cozy, crowded bar where he can sing and play for you, he wants to keep a pet or two with you, he wants you to never be in a dangerous position again, he wants to protect you, look after you, he wants your warm hands in his, sharing a coat out on a freezing pier mid-December somewhere, he wants autumnal, rain soaked walks and he wants you well and happy. Of course, forming a stable relationship with someone who has a police dossier might not go down that smoothly with his own colleagues and work associates but when he has Terry McCain, hotheaded and stubborn that he is, ever cared about what anyone thought?

[chaoticrebels]

NAME : James Pleiades Hawkins NICKNAME : Jim AGE : 15 - 19 GENDER : Male ORIENTATION : Biromantic, Bisexual LOCATION : Space. Benbow Inn, Montressor. PROFESSION : Explorer, Cabin Boy SPECIES : Human SPOKEN LANGUAGES : English HEIGHT : 5’9″ WEIGHT : 147 lbs HAIR : Brunette EYES : Green TATTOOS : None PIERCINGS : Ear SCARS : None FACE CLAIM : Tanner Buchanan

Personality

Jim is a very adventurous, rebellious, and caring young lad. During the beginning of the film, he was a stereotypical, alienated teenager, constantly in trouble and "like a stranger" to his mother Sarah. In the DVD's Visual Commentary, the directors said that to emphasize Jim's "Bad Boy" reputation, they added the black jacket, and the shadow or "eye-mask" over his eyes. By the end of the movie, however, he no longer wears the jacket, and the eye-mask is gone. At first, Jim is stoic and guarded, but as time goes on, he begins to open up, and at the end of the movie, he becomes a much more open, confident and happier young man.

Jim is also very brave, selfless, strong-willed, independent, and loyal to his allies. He is also friendly and willing to help strangers, especially if they are injured or lost; this is shown when he encountered Billy Bones, a creepy but harmless and wounded salamander-like alien pirate who was in need of help, and Jim immediately tended to the poor old alien without hesitation, and according to his mother, Jim would always find stray pets and beg his mother to let him keep them, showing that Jim is kind and compassionate towards animals. Jim is also very intelligent for a lad of his age; so intelligent that he is very skilled in technicians and mechanics and was able to build his own solar surfer all by himself when he was 8 years old, and he was able to fix up the late Captain Flint's spaceship in just a few minutes when he was 15 years old. He is also pragmatic and logical, more than people give him credit for.

Despite his great intelligence and pragmatism, he can do very stupid and reckless things, such as him breaking the law countless times, which caused him to get into trouble with the police; when he flew Silver's space longboat into a passing comet regardless of the possible dangers the comet could have caused to the longboat or Silver or Jim himself; and when he recklessly insulted Scroop without taking any regard for his own safety or even what it would do to his mother if he were to be killed by Scroop because of Jim's reckless behavior. Regardless of his reckless side, Jim can be very cautious and serious if the situation presented itself. At first, Jim was quite spoiled, broody and pessimistic, but in the end, he became much more mature, responsible and optimistic (he can be described as a pragmatic optimist).

He is also fun-loving, jokey, sarcastic, mischievous, charismatic, and very dreamy. He likes playing around with Morph, but he can get annoyed by the little floating pink blob of mischief sometimes, and the same can be said for B.E.N., who gets on Jim's nerves fairly often, especially when B.E.N. talks too much or touches Jim too much. Nevertheless, Jim does consider B.E.N. a good friend and a useful sidekick (also, Jim learned to accept B.E.N.'s hysterical and annoying habits somewhat and even enthusiastically hugs B.E.N. back when B.E.N. hugs him for saving everyone from Treasure Planet's destruction). He is also usually honest, yet quite private, and hardly ever lies; he only lies if he feels that he really has to. Jim can also be very sweet, innocent and polite, and cares greatly for his allies and will protect and defend them from anything and anyone. Jim is also very forgiving, shown when he forgave Silver for his antagonistic actions throughout the film and particularly when Silver chose to save Jim's life instead of Flint's treasure. Jim also allowed Silver to sneak away from the RLS Legacy, instead of informing Amelia and having Silver arrested, showing that Jim has completely forgiven Silver and accepted him as his friend and father-figure again.

Ultimately, even with his few flaws and his bad-boy exterior, Jim has got a heart of gold and refuses to embrace the typical greedy and ruthless pirate life like his pirate enemies, especially his nemesis Scroop, who is the exact opposite in personality to Jim.

When he was a toddler, Jim was very energetic, lovable and obsessed with reading pirate books.

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book One Chapter 21

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book One

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 83k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: Every few centuries a hero is born—one chosen by the God Tiandi to carry out his will in the mortal realm. The Xiang. Whether it is to quell a war instigated by the forces of shadow—of Shakti herself—or whether it is the miasma that poisons the world, the Xiang is born to bring the world back into balance.

Shu Pangu Min knows what his purpose is and he does his best to fulfill it even if he doesn’t fully understand all of the details. He must travel from city to city—lord to lord—to clear out the miasma. Along the way, he is to enlist the aid of four disciples. Each is to be of a different country and each must have high resonance and deep faith.

The holy men who raised him have great confidence in his future successes and they leave him to begin his journey on his own. But, can Pangu live up to the expectations of those around him? Can he really save the land like all other Xiang before him or will his unconventional methods doom them all?

Full chapter 21 under the cut

Chapter XXI

The sand outside the city was a little more dense and packed together so it made for an excellent spot to dig. Kira and Baiya each had a shovel that they “borrowed” and two bodies lay beside them on the ground. Things had escalated a bit more than either of them intended but they relaxed knowing the other one wouldn’t tell.

Pangu, especially couldn’t know since he would feel responsible in some way for the deaths. Raine, on the other hand, would just lecture them about laws and the proper ways to do things.

That was all well and good but Kira and Baiya both knew that, with some people, you just had to take matters into your own hands. Not only had the dead men been talking about severing Pangu’s arms and selling them on the black market but they had also given Kira and Baiya a clue about others who might want to hurt the Xiang.

He wasn’t safe now just because Baiya was a disciple. There were still blood thirsty assassins and scammers about.

“So, do you play cards?” Kira asked as he tossed some dirt to the side. The first layer of earth had been sand but, underneath it, there was some sturdier dirt. He only slightly worried about the discoloration being apparent when they filled the hole but there were also some lovely rocks in the distance that he could bring over and cover the grave with.

Baiya drove his shovel into the ground, making good progress. “I do.”

“Does Agni have separate rules?” Kira glanced up at him.

“Than Terra? Yes. The zeros are high in our games.”

He nodded and then smirked. “Good to know.”

Baiya raised an eyebrow as he continued to dig. “Are you planning on getting money by playing? There are stricter consequences here if you get caught cheating.”

“Get caught,” Kira scoffed, “I never get caught.”

The other man laughed. “Alright. Well, if we dig faster then we can make it back to the inn and see if anyone wants to play.”

Kira nodded in agreement and then stopped moving with his shovel midway to the dirt. He threw it down as a thought occurred to him which made him almost violently angry with himself.

“I’m an idiot,” he groaned before he used his energies to break the earth open, making a perfect grave ditch in two seconds.

Baiya dropped his shovel and looked at him, appalled. “Are you serious? You could have done that the entire time?”

“I didn’t think about it!” Kira replied and rubbed his forehead, “You could have thought of it too, by the way.”

“I don’t know what all your abilities can do,” Baiya countered, “This is completely on you.”

“I was distracted, okay?” he huffed then turned to the bodies. “Just help me get these in here.”

Baiya continued to grumble unintelligibly as he rolled a body into the ground. Kira followed after him and they both looked at the hole.

“Can you fill it on your own or do we need to use the shovels again?”

“I can do it,” Kira said before dragging all of the dirt back and filling the hole. He was even able to move the dirt and sand around to make it look as if the earth had never been disturbed at all.

Baiya’s brow rose in approval. “Nice.”

“Now, let’s go.”

The two headed back to the inn but they didn’t get far before they noticed Pangu and Raine walking around outside.

“Shit, act casual,” Kira hissed under his breath.

Both he and Baiya leaned back against the stone fence surrounding the town, resting an elbow on the side. A forced smile stretched across their faces as the Xiang and first disciple approached them.

“Hey, what are you two doing out so late?” Baiya asked.

“We could ask the same of you,” Raine said and quirked one eyebrow.

“You hadn’t been back so we were worried,” Pangu explained.

“We’d been chatting at the bar,” Kira replied and glanced to Baiya, “Then I found out the hard way that liquor in Agni is stronger than what I’m used to so we went outside so I could, you know, empty out my system. Baiya even held my hair back for me. He’s such a gentleman.”

Pangu looked between them, slightly surprised. “You two were spending time together?”

“Yep.” Kira smiled. “We’re friends now.”

Baiya gave him a look but didn’t add anything.  Both Pangu and Raine seemed too tired and confused to question them further as well.

“Well…good…” the Xiang said and shrugged a little. He glanced to Raine. “Let’s go back to bed.”

“Get some rest before tomorrow,” Baiya responded, “Kira and I are going to stay up for a little longer. Sober up some.”

The two waved a little and returned to the inn. Kira and Baiya followed but at a slower pace. They glanced at each other, having a silent conversation about their next move.

In the morning, they were twice as rich in gold and ready for the ceremony.

Baiya had seen Pangu’s dance a couple of times now and, even if Kira hadn’t pointed it out, he would have noticed that they were different every time. He wondered what kind of dance the Xiang had in store for everyone today.

He stood on the other side of Kira who was between him and Raine. The town was relatively small so there was not a huge turnout for the ceremony but everyone who could be there was there.

Cheering started as soon as Pangu walked to the center and bowed. He reached his hand out before twirling in place and officially starting the dance.

He did have a few moves that he repeated often but they were almost never in the same order or with the same intensity. Baiya watched with a smile as the Xiang entertained the citizens to the best of his abilities. The dance clearly wasn’t necessary to clear out the miasma—it was for the crowd.

But the miasma did get cleared in the meantime. Feeling the heavy and murky sensation leave the air was perhaps the most fascinating part, Baiya had found.

With the town clear and happy, they restocked their supplies and moved on.

Cidney was the next stop and it was visible from a distance. The capital of the Xia territory was built into the side of a mountain and had huge and ornate gold towers that reached to the sky.

Shockingly, there wasn’t much miasma there—no more than anywhere else in Agni at least and definitely not to the extent of Xiao.

There were, however, more criminals lurking about, wishing to strike down Pangu or hurt him so, while Pangu did not have much to do in the capital city save wait for an audience with the Lord, Kira and Baiya were very busy on their own.

A couple of bounty hunters, an assassin, and a sketchy con artist all had to be removed. Luckily, the city was rich with holes already—whether in the form of wells or openings into the sewer system that ran beneath the city.

When they weren’t dealing with snuffing out criminals who wished to attack the Xiang or attempting to find the one in charge of all the sordid types, they were at a bar, getting more money.

Pangu noticed the large amount of time that the two had been spending together but he saw it as a good thing. Only Raine was slightly worried but he was too busy guarding the Xiang on his trip to see Cid Xun Gupta, the lord of Cidney, that he barely had the time to think about it.

Like much of the city, the castle was carved into the side of the mountain. The thresholds of the building—even leading to the throne room were completely bare. It allowed a cool current to pass through which almost made Pangu forget that he was in Agni.

At the back of the throne room sat Cid Xun Gupta in a long white and gold robe. He wore a head wrap that was red which matched a sash tied on his waist. His skin was dark and he had sparse facial hair that he stroked in a pensive fashion.

“Phay and I do not agree on many things but she informed me of your arrival in Agni. She said you saved Xiao city with little effort.” Lord Xun leaned forward in his throne.

“I…yes. It was not an easy task but we did help the city,” Pangu responded, feeling nervous under the man’s stare. “There is not an excess of miasma here but I would still like to hold a ceremony and cleanse the air if you would allow it.”

Raine looked from the Xiang to the lord. For once, he wasn’t sure they would get the approval for a ceremony. It was already an anomaly that they’d had to wait two days to have a meeting with the man.

“While I do not believe the miasma is a great threat to my city, I have been informed that some of my citizens feel…uneasy due to the presence of it. Having you perform your purifying ritual may ease their concerns and give them the peace they seek. Even if there is no real correlation.”

Pangu nodded. “I appreciate your cooperation, Lord Cid Xun Gupta.”

The man waved his hand limply. “Come back here this evening. I will have some preparations for you by then.”

He nodded before giving the proper Agni bow and dismissing himself. Raine followed behind him with a frown. While he hadn’t been speaking, he had been thinking about Kira and Baiya—coming up with theories as to why they had opted to be absent for this particular meeting.

 “Do you think Baiya knows the Lord here and that is why he is not with us? And Kira is helping him avoid other people he knows in the capital?”

Pangu pursed his lips and then shrugged. “That is possible. And, in that case, we can just let them continue. I do enjoy the fact that they are bonding so…”

“I wonder what they are bonding over,” Raine mused aloud, “What do they have in common?”

“They both used to be in the military,” Pangu offered, “Maybe they’re sharing grievances.”

“Then I suppose that would explain why they do not want me involved in those conversations,” Raine said, nodding slightly.

“Aw,” the Xiang cooed and patted the man on the arm, “Are you feeling left out, Raine?”

“Slightly,” he admitted, “But that is not my only concern, I assure you.”

“What else is there?”

“How are they getting all of this money?” Raine frowned and looked down at him. “I am aware Kira can play cards but has that been all that they are doing?”

“Are you forming conspiracy theories now?” he questioned and laughed.

“I am simply concerned that they are getting into trouble. Or hiding secrets from us.”

Pangu shook his head. “No one is hiding anything,” he said despite the fact he certainly was.

So far, Kira had not reacted too badly to the miasma they had cleared on the way. Nothing had been as difficult as Xiao so, as long as there was less miasma, Pangu was hopeful it wouldn’t hurt his second disciple too badly and that they could keep it a secret for as long as they needed.

***

“I thought you knew this lady?” Kira asked as he followed Baiya into a bar in the downtown area. The buildings were crammed together and people hurried along with their belongings held close to their bodies. It was not a novel sight to either of them.

“Not well,” the man responded as he looked back and held open the curtain that separated the lounge from the bar. Once Kira was through, he let his arm drop. “I did a job for her before but it was all contracted through my old boss.”

“The guy I killed?”

“Yes…the guy you killed.” Baiya shook his head. “I met her once when I was in full Angimara gear so she should not recognize me like this.”

“Good. We can trick her easier then.” Kira grinned.

“That last mercenary said she should be here….” The Agni disciple hummed as he surveyed the lounge. Plenty of groups were drinking and discussing “business” together. Shifty eyes traveled to them while whispers started to grow louder,

Baiya ignored the noise and the stares and focused solely on finding his target. His attention went to the back corner where he saw a robed woman sitting with two young women and a man. He couldn’t see her face well from his current distance so he couldn’t be sure if it was the same woman but her posture and aura looked right.

With a small nudge to Kira, they walked over. He then let the second disciple take the lead.

“Are you Ishtar?” Kira opened with while nervously fidgeting with his hands as if to act shy.

The woman looked up at them and Baiya was now sure it was her. Ishtar. Similar to Kira, she abandoned her family name and only went by her own given name. She was probably around her thirties but part of her mystique was that no one really knew how old she was or how long she had been running her criminal enterprise. Everything was based on rumors.

Her eyes were a bright blue and her skin was quite pale. Dark hair peaked out from under her hood but remained mostly tucked away. She wore dark makeup around her eyes and on her lips. The color matched her nails as well as most of her robes.

“Yes?” She cocked her head to the side. “Who might you be?”

The two women on either side of her stared at Baiya and Kira with unblinking eyes while the man kept his head down and nursed his drink. It was clear they’d interrupted something but Baiya couldn’t make any guesses as to what.

“My name is Kira. This is my associate Yang.” He pointed to Baiya. “We heard through a chain of bar gossip that you were giving out rewards for capturing the Xiang.”

“Unless you have him with you, I would rather not continue this conversation.” Ishtar removed her arm from around one of the women and took her drink into her hand.

“We have him meeting us tonight,” Kira stated, “He’s very easy to trick, actually. We just told him we needed help with getting miasma out of Yang and he said he would do whatever it took.”

Baiya nodded along with the story but didn’t add anything. He’d always used a different voice as Agnimara but for the sake of safety, he figured it would be best if he didn’t speak.

“Poor Yang lost his voice to the miasma but the Xiang offered to heal him,” Kira said, clearly catching onto his intent. He put his hands on Baiya’s shoulders and sighed. “So, if you want to take him down yourself, you can meet him with us. What say you to that?”

Ishtar quirked an eyebrow and looked between them again. “You can guarantee he will be there?”

“Without a single doubt in my heart, my lady.” He smirked.

After a moment of silence, she sighed. “Well I will be there then.”

Kira’s lies were as masterful as always, Baiya thought but wouldn’t dare say aloud. He just gave him a curt nod and left with him after giving Ishtar the meeting spot.

All that was left was to follow through and see her later. They checked in on Pangu and Raine, making sure they wouldn’t be anywhere near the meet up. When asked what they were up to, Baiya let Kira spill all of the lies for the both of them.

Just before nightfall, they headed out to the mostly vacant lot. Up on the roof, they waited until Ishtar arrived with a small troop of men. Either she always traveled with a miniature army or she expected a trap.

Kira and Baiya exchanged looks before they both stared her down. “You suspected I was lying?” Kira asked.

“I am always cautious,” the woman rebutted and crossed her arms. “Am I to assume there is no Xiang then?”

“No,” Baiya answered, “And you will never lay a finger on him.”

To emphasize his point, Kira shot part of the roof up and skewered some of Ishtar’s men. He threw a couple of knives out at them while the panic and confusion took over.

“The disciples!?” Ishtar clicked her tongue and looked around wildly for an exit.

Baiya lit one of her men on fire before grabbing her and forcing her to her knees. He took a handful of her hair in one hand while he pressed his blade to her neck. From her position she was forced to watch Kira kill every last one of her men.

“Now,” Baiya said and yanked her back further, “You will not chase after the Xiang, nor will you allow anyone else within your underground networks to seek him out. If we see you or your men or if we so much as hear word that you are trying to hurt the Xiang, we will come back for you and kill you without hesitation. Are we clear, Ishtar?”

“Why not kill her now and save us the trouble?” Kira asked and put his hands on his hips. He was more than ready to take the entire cell out.

“Someone could jump into her position and do exactly what she is doing now,” Baiya explained, “If she takes this threat seriously and backs off of Pangu then we will have fewer problems.”

“Sure you just don’t want to kill on the off chance Pangu finds out?” the other man challenged.

Even if it was true that he wanted to do better for Pangu’s sake, he still believed this was the best way. “This is smarter,” Baiya insisted, “So long as Ishtar cooperates.”

The woman bared her teeth but conceded, “I will tell my men to stop searching for the Xiang. The bounty is off.”

Kira glared down at her, not convinced in the slightest. But, like Baiya said, if they caught wind of her going back on her word, they could kill her then.

The Agni disciple released her and backed away. He set his weapon back on his hip and watched her carefully as she collected herself and fled from the scene.

“I hope that’s the last we see of her,” Kira mumbled.

The two disposed of the bodies of Ishtar’s men before returning to the inn. There, they found Pangu and Raine in one of the rooms, both sitting on the ground and playing a game of cards. Raine’s expression was more serious than usual and Pangu seemed to be holding back a laugh.

“What are you two doing?” Kira asked.

“If I learn how to play like you then I could acquire money as well so you and Baiya do not have to do all of the work,” Raine stated as he reached out for the deck only to have a card slip from under his armor. “Curses…”

Everyone laughed but Baiya collected himself the quickest. “That is not in your character at all, Raine.”

“He mostly just wants to be able to beat Kira in a match,” Pangu stated which earned him a gawking reaction from his first disciple.

“Pangu!”

“What? It’s true.” The Xiang chuckled before revealing his hand to show he’d won the round.

Raine hung his head and Kira walked over to pat him on the shoulder. “If you can’t win against our dear Xiang, you will never stand a chance against me.”

[buckleyblueyes]

Buddie, 2, 11, or 4 please! 🖤🤗

Sorry this took forever!! I used 2. "Is the room meant to be spinning?" and 4. "Dance with me."! This is tooth-rotting fluff, feat. tipsy clingy Eddie and I really hope you like it!

The summer sun is fading out into long shadows as a cool evening breeze blows through the vineyard. The string lights overhead twinkle to life, and the whole place seems magical. Really, the whole day has been magical. Buck bounces the two year old flower girl on his lap and watches Chimney twirling Maddie around on the outdoor dance floor. His heart swells with how happy his sister looks.

“Your mommy and daddy are married now,” Buck whispers to Jee-Yun.

“We married!” She giggles in response. She’s wearing a tulle dress in a soft pink shade that matches May’s bridesmaid dress, and Buck, Albert, and Hen’s ties.

His eyes shift from the happy couple and find Eddie, the way they always do in a crowd. He’s dancing with Christopher, of course, both of them laughing as they sway back and forth to the music. Eddie’s cheeks are red from the wine he’s had and he looks so light and carefree. It’s a good look on him: pleasantly buzzed, overwhelmingly happy, wearing a well tailored tux. Buck wants to see him like this again soon.

“Hey,” He looks back down at Jee. “You wanna be a flower girl again for me and Uncle Eddie?”

She beams up at him. “Yeah!”

“You can’t tell anyone yet,” he adds. “It’s a secret.”

She nods, gravely serious. “Secret!”

It’s then that Albert strides across the courtyard to them. “Quit hogging my niece.”

“Worried I’m her favorite?” Buck quips.

“Not possible.” Albert rolls his eyes and makes grabby hands for Jee-Yun.

“You wanna go with Uncle Albert?” Buck asks.

She nods, so Buck hands her off. Albert takes her onto the dancefloor and begins to spin and sway, much to her delight. Buck laughs and shakes his head, hoping Albert is prepared for her to ruin his tux. After a moment, he realizes he doesn’t need to keep sitting at the table now that he’s not watching Jee.

He makes his way over to Eddie and Chris, and taps Eddie on the shoulder. “May I cut in?”

Eddie grins, and moves to put a hand on Buck’s waist, to pull him in. But Buck shakes his head, smirking. “I meant with Chris.”

Christopher laughs at his dad’s disappointed frown. He looks so old in his crisp back suit, leaning on his new, taller royal blue crutches. He’s thirteen now, and normally that means he’s too cool to hang out with his dad and Buck, but he’s made an exception for tonight. After all, it’s Chimney and Maddie’s wedding, and everyone's a little punch-drunk on happiness and love, even the kids. He knows Eddie, terrified that Christopher is now a teenager, is glad for the days when he can hold onto Christopher’s childhood just a little longer.

Buck is, too.

Buck spins Chris around the dancefloor, gratified by the way he laughs. Christopher’s laugh has always been one of Buck’s favorite sounds. He grins in return, wishing he could capture this moment in a bottle and keep it forever.

“I think Dad wants to dance with you,” Chris says after a few minutes, glancing to where Eddie seems caught between fond and annoyed.

“Well, too bad, I’m playing favorites.” Buck winks.

Christopher rolls his eyes.

“Besides, Eddie can dance with me all he wants when we do this,” Buck says, without really thinking about it.

Christopher grins. “You and Dad are finally gonna get married?”

“Well,” Buck flushes. “We’ve been talking about it recently. All Maddie and Chimney’s wedding talk got in our heads, I think.”

“That makes sense.”

Buck swallows. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Duh.” And, God, he is such a teenager. “We’ve been a family for years. It’s about damn time we made it all official.”

“Language!” But Buck is too overjoyed to convincingly scold him. Christopher’s choice of words we and all haven’t gone unnoticed. It’s not the time for that conversation--the one about adoption and paperwork and lawyers--but it makes Buck’s heart full just the same to know Christopher is thinking about it, that it’s something he wants.

They dance back over towards Eddie, who steps forward and closes the rest of the distance between them himself.

“Buck,” Eddie must be closer to drunk than tipsy because he turns Buck’s name into an honest to God whine. “Dance with me.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “Sorry, kid, looks like my second favorite Diaz is demanding a turn.”

Christopher snorts. “I’m gonna go get more sparkling cider.”

Buck watches as Christopher crosses the dancefloor and heads to the drinks table before turning to Eddie, who is doing the same. The sky is dark now, the moon big and full overhead, and Eddie’s brown eyes shine in the starlight. A slow song begins to play, and Buck knows the universe doesn’t scream, but maybe it does give gentle nudges.

“May I have this dance?” He asks.

Eddie grins. “Finally.” Eddie’s hands find their way to Buck’s waist and pull him in. Buck leans into it, wrapping his arms around Eddie and beginning to sway. Eddie nestles his head on Buck’s shoulder, lips pressed against the crook of his neck.

“Tired?”

“Mmhmm,” Eddie answers, muffled by Buck’s skin.

“Jee-Yun wants to be our flower girl next,” he says softly, carding a hand through Eddie’s hair.

Eddie moves his head slightly, so he can speak properly. “You haven’t even proposed to me yet.”

“You want me to propose?”

Eddie’s wine reddened cheeks darken further. “I already proposed to someone once. I think it’s my turn to be wooed.”

Buck chuckles. “How drunk are you?”

“Not sure,” Eddie mumbles, lifting his head from Buck’s shoulder. “Is the room supposed to be spinning?”

“Oh boy.” Buck shakes his head. “We’re not even in a room, love.”

“Oh, damn.”

Buck hums fondly. “I think it’s time to say goodnight to Maddie and Chim.”

Buck finds his sister and his new brother-in-law sitting with Albert. Maddie is holding Jee-Yun, and she looks exhausted in the best possible way. He makes his goodnights and goodbyes for himself and his family, sends a wink Jee-Yun’s way, and then drags his partner and their son upstairs to their hotel room.

Buck wakes up the next morning to a text from Maddie that says: I can’t believe you stole my flower girl and one from Chimney: I think the inability to keep a secret must be genetic. He smiles softly, and looks over at Eddie, who is still fast asleep, the morning sun drenching him in golden light.

He responds to Maddie first: Help me plan the proposal?

[butwhatifidothis]

So. Took a look into that fic @nilsh13 is going through the comments of. Dunno if I’ll actually go through the entire thing - 300k words is certainly a lot of words to read through, especially with it still updating, but I’ve read through/am reading through longer ones - but I jumped to the latest chapter to get a feel for where the fic’s at now.

I’m not halfway through the chapter and I have Words To Say lmao, under the cut

This is going to be as serious a critique about the sections I’ve selected as possible - I want to be clear why I think what is being written is not of high quality, pointing out specifically what I have wrong with it. 

Here are some snippets of the fic (boldened), and following those snippets are my thoughts on them:

“My actions have caused immense turmoil, pitting friend against friend, mother against daughter, and brother against sister*,” muttered Edelgard, desperately trying to drive any hint of self-pity (emphasis mine) from her voice. “My best friend has been disowned by her family, Hubert and Ferdinand’s fathers are dead or imprisoned, and the woman I love is now deemed a heretic by the Church that once offered her shelter. The weight of my decisions seems to pull down all who are caught in the shadow of the Imperial crown.” The Flame Emperor gave Professor Hanneman a wan smile. “Whatever imagined slights you believe you have committed against me, they pale in comparison to the carnage my own words and deeds have unleashed.” 

""I made my choice, the only choice I could make, and dragged this continent down to hell with me. It makes me a poor ruler, and an even baser person, but that was the path I knew I must take."" 

“"It is funny you use the word ‘choice’, Miss Edelgard. When I resigned my title to study at Garreg Mach, I lost marriage prospects, became penniless outside of a small stipend…I even renounced the opportunity to have a family.” Hanneman smiled, his whole body suffused with melancholy. “Really, how could I dare to dream of bringing a daughter into a world this senseless and cruel, knowing that someday, she too, could be hurt in such a way? I…I would not survive it.” The man’s body shook. “I sacrificed those things, things I desperately wanted, because the chance to allow my sister to rest in peace was more important. And I would make that choice again, despite all that it has cost me. You are much the same.”"

"“But your sacrifices were your own,” protested the Emperor of Adrestia. “Thousands bleed for the choices that I have made, and sacrifice themselves for the cause that I have placed before them. There is a profound difference-“"

"“We are both wise enough to know a painful truth,” said the scholar with a melancholy smile. “No matter how grave the sins, no matter how many innocents suffer…there will be countless individuals who will defend the law not because it is just, or righteous, but because it is the law. They will permit a hundred Abysses, and a thousand women to be raped, and a million dead children, as long as such actions do not disturb their order.” He placed a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder. “To stand against such moral rot, knowing that the world will despise and vilify you for it, is the truest sign of not only a just ruler, but a good woman.”"

"The academic’s words blazed with the passion of both a scholar and a man who had watched his world crumble to ash. A man who had been forced to live in the remnants of a life forever altered by the cruelty of both society and of humanity. And yet he had fought, the only way he could, to make the world better. It gave the Flame Emperor new resolve."

"“I…” He turned and looked away. “I believe in you, Miss Edelgard. When I see you, and your determination, your spirit, your bravery in choosing not what is easy, but what is right…it reminds me of her.” Fingers clenched around his locket. “I will fight for you, in the way I should have fought for my sister, long ago. My strength is meagre, and my courage more meagre still. However, all of it is yours.”" 

The author writes Edelgard as one trying to give pity onto herself for her actions, despite how negatively they affect her, due to the immense ramifications those actions have had on those both around her and those under her care. This is the appropriate response to someone who has done as morally dubious an action as starting and spearheading a war that has led to the deaths and suffering of countless innocent people, some of whom were undoubtedly already going through immense suffering without war compounding itself onto their already existing pain. She - rightfully - points as, as a negative towards herself, that she has forced thousands of people to sacrifice their lives, livelihoods, friends, family, homes, etc. in order to continue with her war. Edelgard's canonical self-justification - that she had no other choice to do this - is properly utilized, and further characterization is given to her when she herself recognizes that performing such horrendous actions on the people under her care makes her a poor ruler and terrible person. This is, in truth, a decent set-up for her to go onto a possible path of redemption or self-realization.

However, that progress is forcibly stopped and reverted by Hanneman justifying her actions and recontextualizing them in a morally good light. In fact, the entire story does this, as characters act wildly out of character in order for Edelgard to be seen as good in comparison to them. Focusing on the quoted lines, however, Hanneman relating him giving up nobility and going into momentary poverty - whether true to canon or not - to Edelgard's war actively paints her actions as something that she had a right to be making, which she does not, as they force others to make sacrifices for her cause. When she herself rightfully points this discrepancy out, Hanneman excuses her actions by pointing to another - supposed - source of turmoil and essentially saying "You are more right than x, therefore your y actions are not only better, but objectively good, and make you a good person." He says nothing of the inherent injustice of taking away the choice of the people to live as they want and fight for who they want as well as deliberately taking away any semblance of safety from them, and makes objective statements about Edelgard's moral righteousness despite her taking actions that would, by definition, make her moral righteousness a subjective matter at minimum.

Hanneman is projecting the image of his sister and his own personal sense of justice onto Edelgard, and thus sees her as just as much a victim of the war and society as everyone else. Edelgard is a young woman who has gone through trauma due to Crests, as was his sister, and he himself (in this story, though not within the quoted lines) wanted to beat the man who abused his sister to death, and so he sees Edelgard using violence as a means to achieve justice as not only not questionable, but morally good and brave, as he felt he was not brave enough to enact "justice" onto the man that caused his sister's death. Instead of this being settled, focused on, or even mentioned, despite its obvious nature due to deliberate connections Hanneman himself makes, it is used as a means to showcase that Hanneman is a, for lack of a better term, "expert" on what he is saying when speaking to Edelgard. He knows what it's like to want to force change, he has by-proxy experienced the apparent injustice of the Church - not human society, not his family's decision to allow his sister to be married off, not the man who caused her death's decision to discard her, but strictly the Church and only the Church - and so he can "rightfully" justify and excuse Edelgard's morally questionable actions and paint them in a solely positive light, with no nuance or gray whatsoever.

Edelgard, in the first quote, attempts to say her actions without a tone of self-pity, and yet the narrative itself pities Edelgard. She should be allowed to feel bad about her actions - not because they are causing unfathomable suffering on people who were underserving, but because they’re just hard decisions that she was good and brave to make and maybe she can feel a little bad for herself for making them. She shouldn't feel responsible for choosing to start the war - in fact, did she really have a choice, or did everyone else in society force her to? She shouldn't question whether she's a good person or not, because she simply is - no debate, no question. She is - “justly” - standing up against "moral rot"; that she does so with even more moral rot is irrelevant, because, according to the story, it is not as rotten as that she's up against, therefore it is no longer rotten in the first place. War has been completely justified, as it is now not the last resort of desperation that could only ever be morally grey at its absolute best, but an objectively morally white decision of an objectively morally white person who is facing an objectively morally black opponent.

The actions of other characters attempt to paint Edelgard as someone closer to the former, but I will - maybe - eventually go over how those characters are extremely mischaracterized in order to prop Edelgard as their moral superior. 

[imaginesntingz]

Imagine Gaara comforting you when the depression and anxiety hit

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Swearing(?)

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first post on this blog. I hope you all enjoy it <3 Please don’t copy any of my works. It’s all originally written and I put a lot of time and effort into my pieces. Please ask me before reposting.

————————-

You were curled up in bed staring into nothingness. The past week or two you’ve tried to keep it at bay, but you felt the ever lingering depression creeping its way in. Nothing in particular happened. It was just always there. There wasn’t a time you could remember it not being there. Sometimes it was muffled like background noise and other times the volume was turned up so loud it was the only thing you could hear. It was your constant companion following you like a shadow. And to top it all off, anxiety was right behind it. You thought about overthinking and overthought about thinking. Racing thoughts kept you up sometimes until the sun shone through the blinds.

Everyone wondered why you were so quiet at times, but they couldn’t hear the ass beating you were getting from your own mind that made it almost impossible to be in the present moment. Nor could you find the energy, the language, nor a fuck to give to even begin to explain the war going on inside you. Temari invited you out to what you thought would be a small kickback yesterday that ended up being a full blown party. Gaara, who was supposed to go with you, was inevitably called in for village business. You ended up socially tapped after just a few hours in. Although Temari was with you and you met up with some chill friends . . Although you were surrounded by people, you still felt completely alone. Although you heard the words coming out of their mouths, you couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. Although you were physically there, you weren’t there. You wanted so badly to just enjoy yourself like everyone else, but it was what it was. After pleading with your sister in law, you finally went home only to find that Gaara was still in the office. One final push that sent you

Spiraling

down

And there you were exhausted but painfully awake in the darkness of your shared room. You didn’t know how long you were lying there. There was no time, only the bottomless ocean that swallowed anything and everything you tried to drop into it. No amount of journaling, affirmations, meditation, prayer, movement, walking, entertainment, pet cuddling, food, water, medication, vitamins, herbs, epsom salt baths, incense, face masks or any of the methods you’ve tried felt tangible to you in that moment. What was the point when you didn’t even have the will to move? How could you think of going on a mission next week when you couldn’t guarantee you’d attempt to leave your room tomorrow? How were you going to take care of your hair if you couldn’t even braid, twist or put it up for the night? How could you call yourself a caring friend when you’re thinking about canceling the dinner you’ve already rescheduled twice?

“My love? Why are you still awake?”

Your husband’s soothing voice jolted you out of your inner dialogue. You hadn’t even heard him come in, too lost in the wall in front of you.

“ . . . Can’t sleep.”

You heard the sound of the door closing and hushed shuffling as he moved around the room. A few moments later, you felt his weight dip the mattress beside you. A warm arm wrapped around your middle, gently pulling you to his chest. His hand moved to intertwine with yours as he spooned you from behind.

“How did it go with Temari? Again I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you. I hope you had a good time.”

“It’s fine. It was fine.” you replied flatly.

Gaara caressed the back of your thumb with his own as silence filled the space between you. His lips met the skin of your shoulder and you felt your body gradually relax into his embrace. He was never one to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and always made you feel grounded back to earth with his very presence. Even amidst his many responsibilities as Kazekage, he always made sure to check in on you and provide whatever you may want or need. He would do anything for you if it meant you would feel loved, safe, balanced and happy. Gaara, sweet Gaara, was the love of your lifetimes and you, his. He knew you better than he knew himself and picked up on every detail. Your likes and dislikes. How you took your tea in the morning. Your sensitivities. Every expression. Your body language. The tone in your voice. The slightest change in your eyes. So it was no surprise that he picked up on the shift in your mood right away.

“(y/n) . . . Sweetheart, It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but please know that I am here. I love you more than words can express. I am here to listen and support you in any way that I can. I always will be. You know that, right?”

And with that, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Your body trembled as he maneuvered you to face him. He wrapped his arms firmly around you, cocooning you into the safety of his hold. You buried your face into his chest and the calming scent of earth and cinnamon enveloped your senses. Your tears and running nose wetted the shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Soft kisses were pressed to the crown of your head as his fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine, occasionally drawing soothing circles. You turned your head to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against you before finally catching your breath to speak.

“I-I’m just so tired of fighting just to be okay all the time. I’ve been taking steps to take care of my mental health, but it still feels like it isn’t enough. It’s like one day I’m fine and a couple days later it feels like I’m back at square one. I just want to exist sometimes. No expectations. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to be anything. I just want to be.”

He squeezed you gently at your words, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“You once told me that your dream is to become the peace within and despite the chaos inside of you. The chaos all around us. You said that you wish to heal yourself and pass on healing to others. I know it is easy to lose sight of it when you’re in the midst of what feels like a never ending battle, but I wanted to remind you of it because I never want you to lose hope.”

Your eyes widened in shock and turned glassy as he continued on.

“You have brought me out of the depths of the greatest despair and have played a huge role in supporting me in healing from my past. Your love is medicine to my heart. There were times when I was lost that you reminded me to never lose sight of my dream. To never lose sight of what truly matters. Even in the most difficult times, you have always found hope where others have felt hopeless. That is one of the many reasons I love you. I am your husband, so let me be your strength when you are tired and feel you can’t go on because you are my strength, dear wife. We can get through this together. Remember that healing is a lifelong journey, not a destination. So take it one day at a time. Hour by hour or minute by minute if that’s what it takes. You’re so hard on yourself sometimes, but look how far you’ve come to be here. Right now. How much you’ve grown. I want you to know that I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I hope that you can come to be proud of your accomplishments too.”

A fresh wave of tears came over you, but for a completely different reason this time. You practically tackled your poor mans onto his back and your lips met in an intense yet equally loving kiss. His hands worshipped the expanse of your hips and time fell away. Vibrations hummed throughout your body as you pulled back to look into those seafoam green eyes. His red hair and pale complexion highlighted by the light of the moon peeking through the window. He was ethereal.

“I love you, Gaara. So much. I am so happy that you exist. Honestly when you speak so openly and directly like that I feel like my heart is gonna burst through my chest . . . fuckkkk. In a good way though! But seriously, thank you for being you. I never thought I’d be able to say this to someone without fear, but . . when I am with you, I know that I am home. You are my home, love. ”

His eyes softened before a huge grin spread across his now blushing features. Gaara didn’t smile often, but when he did it was a sight to behold. It was like feeling the warmth of a sunrise for the first time. An all encompassing glow.

He sat up and cupped both of your cheeks in his hands, tears now mirroring your own. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Your beauty radiates from the inside out. Honestly, what have I done to deserve you?”

“Sir, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? That’s my line. Fight me. Right now.” you deadpanned playfully.

A look of genuine concern crossed over his face. His hands settled on your waist and his posture noticeably drooped.

“(y/n), I would never fight you.”

“ . . . Gaara, I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Mhm.”

“ . . . Right. I should have known. I’ll do better next time.” he sighed dejectedly.

Your body shook with laughter at your man’s adorably serious face. He’s always trying his best. Only Gaara could go from holding space through your tears of sadness, to making you cry from happiness, to having you doubled over with laughter within a matter of moments just by being authentically himself.

“I love you so fucking much, my sweet Gaara.”

“And I, you. My beautiful (y/n).”

You both slept soundly that night in a tangle of limbs, not knowing where one ended or the other began. Two, who together, are one.

[mrsgiovanna]

The Beguiling (Hades! Don Giorno x Persephone! Fem! Reader)

This concept has been on my mind for the longest time. This is loosely based off the lore of Hades and Persephone, set in a modern mafia AU, with Giorno as Hades and the reader as Persephone. 🥺💖🐞

TW: Kidnapping, yandere themes, manipulative behaviour, disordered relationship dynamics

Word count : 6.3k

“The truth of the matter I believe to be this. There is, as I stated at first, no absolute right or wrong in love, but everything depends upon the circumstances, to yield to a bad man in a bad way is wrong, but to yield to a worthy man in a right way is right.”

- Plato, Symposium

Being the Don of a mafia is a difficult task, being so far removed from everyone and everything else. Some would even say, its like being part of an entirely different realm…

Extremely beautiful but entirely unapproachable, Giorno didn’t appear in public very often, the burden of running the organization had brought many threats to his safety. Granted, he was able to thwart any plan to even remotely harm him, but one doesn’t have time for such annoyances when you wield as much power as he did. Taking over something so big at such a young age changes a person, and Giorno was no different, he was always seen as aloof and calculating, but there were other dimensions to his character that he was painfully aware of, but would not reveal to anyone else… yet.

“Don Giovanna, are you ready to go? The driver is ready for us,” his consigliere spoke in an even, respectful tone while addressing his don.

“Yes, we can leave, have you informed Fugo of the change in our plans?” Giorno’s voice was monotonous, soft and polite, but conveyed no emotion. The task at hand today was not a pleasant one… he hated having to deal with defectors and had avoided it up until this point. This case was different… the defector in question was your brother. You had always held a special place in his heart ever since he encountered you upon taking over Passione. You were always kind towards him, and all your conversations had brought about a sense of peace within himself. Nonetheless, he dismissed it as a simple juvenile crush, and continued with his mammoth task of remolding the diseased organization, excising the ‘tumors’ to allow for a healthier, better, stronger Passione to emerge. Sacrificing his youth, his personal life and precious friends in order to attain his dream, he was not going to let anyone destroy everything he had worked so hard to create.

As the years went on, there were many times that your path had unwittingly crossed with the young don’s which only intensified his feelings for you, but given the nature of his lifestyle, he tried to convince himself that loving you from afar would be good enough, but Giorno’s resolve- unshakeable in every other scenario- was quickly waning in this regard.

Meeting with your father was painful, his demeanor reminding Giorno of a shadowed figure from his past who had changed his life forever.

“He’ll have to be dealt with, you understand this, correct?”

“I’m aware of this, Don Giovanna. I… I’m willing to take any punishment you see fit… please keep my daughter out of this… I can stake my life on her innocence in all of this,” your father spoke emphatically, desperate to protect you, appealing to the don’s humanity. Giorno furrowed his eyebrows, surely your father knew he wouldn’t harm you in any way- was it normal for people to be this terrified of him? The sharp slam of a door and a greeting from a honeyed voice snapped Giorno from his thoughts.

“I’m home, I hope you’re hungry, I’m making octopus salad, squid ink risotto and I’ve got chocolate fondants for dessert… oh goodness! Don Giovanna- I’m sorry… I, um…” you stuttered embarrassingly as your gaze landed on the blonde’s handsome face and shifted to the ground immediately. Before Giorno could answer you to try and quell your discomfort, your father interjected, sending you away from the room. The young don was completely awestruck by your ethereal beauty, as if you had been crafted by the gods themselves, descended to create joy in an otherwise dull world. He made a silent promise to himself- he had to have you as his own.

“(Y/n), please give us a moment piccolina, I’ll come to you as soon as we have concluded our meeting,”

“Of course, please pardon my interruption,” with a small nod of your head, you took your leave, wanting to start making the dishes you had just rattled off. As you busied yourself with your preparations, your mind kept returning to Giorno, he was always calm and pleasant, but you hadn’t seen him with that kind of expression before. The fact that you hadn’t seen your brother in days didn’t bode well with today’s events… you hoped he was okay, but you experienced first-hand how aggressive he could be, something, you were told, he had shared with your mother. You didn’t have much of a relationship with her as her job had taken her away from the family a bit too much. You understood now that you were a young adult, but your emotions still vacillated between acceptance and resentment when you observed the families of your friends.

“You know… because of the difference in our ages, you’ve always told me that you cared for me as a father would care for a son, as a result, our relationship has always been cordial… its allowed us to speak frankly as we have always done in the past,”

“Yes, Don Giovanna… this is true.”

“Please, I’ve told you many times before, call me Giorno…”

“Alright… Giorno,”

“Good, good, see? That sounds better already. As I was saying before, if your affections for me run that deep… accept me as a son-in-law and allow me to marry (y/n) and you will never have to worry about her safety again. Nobody would ever think to harm her if they have to contend with me first,”

“What? Are you asking for permission to marry my daughter? I don’t think she has even considered something like that… you’ve barely spoken to each other…” your father was battling to make sense of Giorno’s request, if one could even call it a request.

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in… your son has singlehandedly created a colossal mess; we’d be in the middle of a turf war if it wasn’t for the quick thinking of my consigliere. That’s not to say other people wouldn’t want to exact their own personal brand of justice. I can guarantee you though, if she’s under my care, none of those things will ever reach her.” Just as the consigliere was about to speak, perhaps, an attempt to rationalize with the don, a sharp sideward glance from the latter had left all suggestions unspoken. The silence in the room was palpable… uncomfortable, until it was broken by Giorno.

“I’ve loved (y/n) for as long as I’ve known her, the best place for her would be with me, my strength is unparalleled… this is probably a lot to take in right now, I’ll allow you some time to come around to the idea, I’d hate to have to take her by force, but, if that’s what it will take…”

“Are you threatening me Don Giovanna?” asked your father with a restrained bite to his voice.

“Of course not, I’m merely making my intentions clear, my reach spans well beyond anything you could ever imagine… well, I’ve said all I need to in this instance. I’ll be back for her in three days, I trust you’ll be able comply with my suggestion. I’ll be taking my leave now.” With a flourish of his cerulean blue coat, Giorno and his consigliere left your home. Your father cursed his position, but there was little he could do about it. Finding you blissfully tinkering in the kitchen, his heart broke, knowing already that this was one of the last times he would be seeing you like this… or at all.

“You don’t agree with what I’m doing, do you, Lorenzo? You know I’m good at reading people, although you’re not even trying to mask your disdain,” asked Giorno, breaking the silence on the drive home.

“Well, if I’m allowed to speak freely, I don’t think you’re going about this in the right manner. She’s going to be terrified and resentful because you’re effectively abducting her, so in brief, I don’t agree with this at all,”

“Fair enough, and for the record, obviously I’m aware that she’s going to hate me… at first anyway, but she’ll come to understand eventually. Anyway, what’s done is done, in three days, I’ll be bringing home my goddess.” Giorno turned his attention to his phone and with that Lorenzo had backed off, knowing from years of serving Giorno that there was no talking to him when he resolved to do something.

“Father, you’re so quiet… did something happen?” you asked, part of you not wanting to know the answer to that question.

“It’s a mess, but don’t worry about that, I’ll handle it. There is something that I have to speak to you about though… it’s about Don Giovanna, he would like to see you in a few days, nothing serious, just be sure to keep your schedule open for the day,” your father explained, only divulging half the truth of your situation.

“He wants to see me? Do you know why? Have I done something wrong?” you were curious as to what Giorno could possible want with you.

“Of course not dolcezza, he just wants to have a chat with you, I think he’s just making sure that you’re alright… that’s part of why he was here today.

“Oh, alright, I’ll be available. Anyway, dinner’s ready, once you get washed up, we can eat,” you glanced up at your father to see his face contorted in grief. “What’s the matter? I know you don’t like talking about things that have to do with your occupation, but you’ve been like this ever since Don Giovanna left,”

Being too much for him to bear, he pulled you into a vicelike embrace, almost as if you would disappear if he let you go, which was not entirely false. “Aww, it’s okay dad, everything will be fine, come on, the food’s getting cold, you need to eat,” with that, you both ate in a comfortable silence as you always did, before you both retired for the evening.

While you tried to prepare yourself for your “meeting”, your soon to be captor was busy creating your sanctuary, or rather, overseeing the creation of your sanctuary- there was no reason why your surroundings couldn’t be as beautiful as you were, his aim after all was to get you to fall in love with him. Large, glittering mirrors with gilded frames adorned the walls of the hallways that lead to your room. Inside, was everything one could ever hope to have; an extensive closet filled with things that were made especially for you, various trinkets and baubles carefully selected for you, state of the art electronic devices, albeit with restrictions on the amount of things you could access… just for the time being though. If you were to start off as a bird in a cage, it should be a bejeweled cage worthy of a rarity like you.

As it got closer to the time you’d be seeing Giorno, your nerves started increasing exponentially, you knew that under normal circumstances, having to meet with someone like him without knowing what the subject matter would be was intimidating, but this feeling was something else altogether. As if something in your gut was telling you to cancel- to run- but you dismissed those feelings, and prepared yourself for the engagement.

“Buonasera cara, you look especially charming this evening…” he greeted you with a velvety voice that masked the true nature of him being there.

“Buonasera Don Giovanna, thank you for the compliment,”

“Shall we leave, (y/n)?”

“Um, okay… I just need to fetch my things and let my father know that I’m leaving…”

“Alright, perfect, actually, would you mind if I followed you? I’d like a quick word with him before we leave,” his expression was so charismatic, you felt guilty for not inviting him inside immediately.

“Of course, I’m sorry, please do come in.” you say as you stepped aside to make room for Giorno to enter. You lead him to the study and went to fetch your coat and purse to go, giving yourself a onceover in the mirror to make sure you were presentable and with that you kissed your father on the cheek and left.

The restaurant that you and Giorno went to was completely empty except for a single table set up for you both and the staff that were going to serve you, you found it odd, but dismissed it as one of the nuances of leading a mafia, privacy was of utmost importance. Ever the gentleman, the young don pulled out your chair for you and seated himself across from you.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me (y/n), I appreciate you taking the time to do so,”

“Of course, although I have to admit, I’m a little confused as to why I’m here,” you say with a nervous titter. The waiter brought a bottle of wine to the table, probably preapproved by Giorno already, and with a small nod, it is poured out into the awaiting glasses for the two of you.

“You will understand soon enough cara, come, lets toast to something… ah! To new beginnings…” he suggested with a sardonic smile.

“New beginnings? Okay… to new beginnings, salute!” with a confused smile and a delicate clink of your glasses you both took a sip of your wine. As the night went on, you were having a wonderful time, however, it seemed like your alcohol was getting to you faster than usual.

“Are you alright, cara, you look a bit out of sorts, come, I’ll take you home,”

“Thanks Don, I… I’m sorry I don’t know-” before completing the rest of your sentence, your consciousness faded and you fell into a strong pair of arms. Giorno sat you back down and made a quick call to his driver before picking you up again and placing you in the awaiting car to take you to your new home. As he gazed lovingly upon your face, he knew that the road is going to be a tedious one, but you would love him one day.

Your head pounded incessantly as you tried to open your eyes. The sensations on your skin were unfamiliar- soft, silken, so inviting, lulling you back into the deep slumber you were trying to break. Was this a dream? Your eyes finally opened to an unfamiliar room, you gathered the courage to sit up in bed, still unsure if you were in a dream or not and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Looking around the room, feeling a sense of panic enveloping your very existence, you ran towards the large, ornately carved door to try and leave the room, but it was locked. The windows, it seemed, were crafted from reinforced glass as they would not break regardless of what was thrown at them. Left with only one option, you began to cry out for help, surely someone would be there, it was too well kept to be an abandoned building.

Listening to the commotion from outside the room were the guards and servants tasked with making sure your requests were fulfilled, but more importantly, they needed to ensure you were safe and didn’t escape. Giorno had a way with people, a charisma that both scared and enchanted those around him. Disobedience was not even a fleeting option for those who served him, partly out of fear, but mostly out of devotion to the young don. Giving each other a knowing glance, your guard decided to call his boss to come and subdue you before you had hurt yourself.

Your throat felt raw from the shouting and hyperventilating, your skin shimmered, veiled in a thin layer of sweat and your eyes shifted this way and that, trying to spot something you could exploit to leave the room while your captor was away. It dawned on you that as terrifying as it was to be in that place, it would be even worse if you had to face whoever was holding you there, choosing rather to contend with the fear of the unknown, than putting a face to your jailor. As if even thinking of something willed it into existence, your worst nightmare materialized as you heard the door being unlocked.

“Tesoro… please stop, you’re hurting yourself,” your eyes widened when you heard the velvety voice addressing you with such tenderness.

“Don… Giovanna? Where am I? What are you doing here? Please, I need to go home, I don’t know who brought me here…” you could barely articulate yourself with your shaky voice.

“I know that you’re extremely scared and confused… there’s so much I need to explain to you… but please, first, let me look at your hands, you are hurt, I can take care of that,” it was only after he spoke that you saw the bruises blooming on the delicate skin of your hands and arms. You still stayed rooted to where you were, but Giorno inched closer, materializing GE to heal your injuries. His heart stung when you silently grimaced at the pain of his ability rejoining the blood vessels that had broken, but he hated seeing your beautiful skin being marred like that.

“Don…”

“Please, call me Giorno…”

“Okay… Giorno… can we go now? I need to go home, if we stay any longer the people who put me here might come back or send others, I…”

“Tesoro… this is your home now… the person who brought you here was me… what is the last thing you remember from yesterday?” The young don circled around you and sat you down next to him at the foot of the bed.

“Why? Why did you bring me here? Are you insane? I can’t stay here, I… don’t understand what the hell is going on! I need to call my father,” seeing you start to get agitated again, Giorno pulled out his phone and motioned for you to take it.

“Here, call him, he has already agreed to this arrangement. You’re not safe my love, I’m sure you know about the recent transgressions courtesy of your cretin of a brother. People are angry and want revenge, and unfortunately you’re in the direct line of fire. So it was decided that you would come and live with me, you’ll find all your belongings here already, mixed with things that I believe you would like. I will give you anything your heart desires, lavish you with all the love and attention I can. All you need to do is stay here… near me… nobody can challenge me…”

You heard the words, but nothing was making sense to you. You decided to take up your captor’s offer to speak to your father, who confirmed his entire story. Feeling dejected, empty and completely alone, you sank to the floor as violent sobs wracked your body. Seeing you in this state filled Giorno with dread as he lifted you off the lushly carpeted floor, but he knew he would be able to get you to love him eventually. This was this the initial shock; he was willing to wait for you to acclimate to your surroundings.

Thus began your life of isolation… your routine, if you could even call it that, consisted of waking up in your palatial room, begrudgingly having breakfast with your green-eyed abductor and sulking around for the rest of the day. Giorno put a lot of effort into making sure that you were comfortable and tried to interact with you as much as his schedule would allow him to. Initially, all of his attempts to speak to you were ignored, you wondered if the awkward silence even bothered him at all, but he always had a peaceful expression on his face. If nothing else, he was very patient with you, and at times you tested his patience on purpose, goading him to anger, in those times though, he simply left you alone in your room, not allowing you to leave for a few days, instructing your handlers to confiscate your electronics, not even offering you a sliver of human contact… you needed to think about why you were in that position after all, so there could be no distractions whatsoever. Those isolation periods would thankfully not last long enough to tip you over the edge though, and like a ray of sunshine after a storm, he’d come to unlock your doors and add color back into your world. You always were more affectionate towards him after a few days on your own, which, you reasoned, was due to the lack of any interaction at all as opposed to having any genuine feelings towards him. Giorno wasn’t picky though, he accepted your gentle touches and embraces all the same, one day… soon… you would undertake those gestures solely on your desire to do so.

Surely enough, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you had warmed up to him, settling into an oddly satisfying domestic life with the don. The more of yourself you gave to him, the wider your world had gotten, until you eventually had free reign over the entire estate. You soon had come to realize that if you had just played your part, and listened to him, complied with his simple requests, his kindness towards you was limitless. Giorno had remained as attentive as ever, picking up on every little change on you from the subtle change in the color of your blush to the miniscule changes in the length of your hair after its trimmed, nothing escaped his well trained eye. He beamed when you started to wear the clothes and jewels he bought for you, seeing it as a sign that you were slowly starting to accept him. The truth of the situation was that you had, against your better judgement, fallen in love with this living deity.

“Giorno… the weather’s warming up quite beautifully, why don’t we train outdoors from now on instead of working out inside?” you suggested while you kneeled on the bed behind a seated Giorno as you undid his elaborate hairstyle and brushed out the product from his hair before he took a shower.

“Hmmm… alright bella, I suppose we could do that, I’m sure the fresh air would do us both some good,” as he got up, he bent down to place a chaste kiss on your forehead before heading into the shower. For a fleeting moment, you thought about your old life, you had earned back the liberty to speak to your family, well, your father, and some friends, but the fractured relationships weren’t the same. Pushing those negative feelings to the back of your mind, you waited for Giorno so that you could both go to sleep, but your heavy eyelids fell shut. His patience with you was never more evident than in these moments, never once overstepping your boundaries or initiating intimacy that would make you feel uncomfortable. Emerging to see your sleeping form, he pulled up the covers around you and climbed into the other side of the bed, facing you, he clutched your hands in his, allowing himself to close his eyes as well.

“We’ve managed to locate her… you aren’t going to like this though,”

“Just tell me where my daughter is, I’ll decide the rest,” your mother spoke bluntly to her partner.

“She’s living with some mafia boss; I think he’s her boyfriend or something. You never see her out on her own, she’s always with him. I’ve got people watching your husband’s house, she’s only been there once, with the cocky bastard in tow. The security at his place is insane, worst of all, we think he’s a stand user,”

“Stand user? Don’t make me laugh, that means nothing, we’re stand users too, every ability has a weakness that can be exploited,” your mother lit a cigarette and took a long drag, musing on what her first move should be. After a moment of contemplation, she had her sights set on her old marital home, deciding that your father would be able to provide the most complete description of what is going on. She portrayed a nonchalant exterior, but your mother was very worried for your safety. She had a powerful stand of her own, in fact all the members of your family were powerful stand users- except you. Your mother worked closely with a foreign organization dedicated to studying supernatural phenomena as such, most of her time was divided between her travels on behalf of the organization and work that she would need to do onsite at their headquarters in Washington. Over her lifetime, she’s found herself in many precarious positions, so she decided it would be safer if she stayed away from the family in an attempt to keep everyone safe… upon hindsight, that was a fatal miscalculation. To describe her mood after speaking to your father as livid, would be an understatement.

Not wasting a moment, your mother called her associate and made her way to the don’s villa, hell-bent on taking you back from his dark clutches.

“Bella, are you ready to go?” Giorno called to you as he pulled on his coat while you put on your last accessory. You never turned down an opportunity to go out, even though your outings became slightly more frequent, you were completely captivated by discovering the different facets to Giorno’s personality. As much as he was fervently observing you and curating an ideal world tailored to you, you were learning a lot about him and the circumstances that fashioned him in this manner.

“Yes tesoro, sorry for keeping you waiting… what is it?” you were met by a wide-eyed Giorno, and it hit you… Tesoro… the name trickled so effortlessly off your lips, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t really thinking…”

“Don’t apologize amore, as long as it’s you, I don’t mind…” he softly replied, as he stroked your cheek with the back of his forefinger. You heard a faint clatter accompanied by the ring of Giorno’s phone, informing him that there had been a security breach. The soft expression on his face was gone, as he gripped you with a protective arm.

Before you had time to ask him what was going on, you heard your name being called out by a voice you barely remembered, one you didn’t think you’d hear again.

“Mother?” your voice was a whisper. Your mother looked at you, disdain skewing her features before turning her attention to Giorno, whose grip continued to tighten around you.

“(y/n), I’ve come to take you away from here, it’s obvious leaving you in the care of your father was a mistake. And you, step away from her this instant, you will regret it if you don’t,”

You hadn’t noticed the swarm of black suits that had surrounded you all, ready to pounce at Giorno’s command. His intense gaze had not left your face while your mother spoke, searching for the slightest tell indicating you might have known about this, but you were just as perplexed as he was… the guilt of him doubting you twisting his features even further.

“It’s alright, stand down men… while you really have a nerve of breaking into my property, I feel that this can be solved amicably, I’d hate for (y/n) to have to contend with any discord between us,” he spoke with a calm, even voice but that didn’t match the fury brewing in his eyes.

“Amicable? You take my daughter away from her home and you still feel like this is something that can be talked out of? You really are a piece of work!”

“Better to be the overbearing lover than the neglectful mother…” Giorno’s tone was dripping with cynicism as he handed you to one of your awaiting guards.

“You sick bastard!” your mother cried out. As if being pushed back by a glowing force that you couldn’t quite discern, the young don was thrown backwards. You hated feeling so powerless. Giorno sat up and smiled mockingly, before launching into an attack of his own you assumed, as you saw a similar golden glow envelop his body, and the bodies of the security personnel backing him up.

“Please, stop it! All of you!” you wanted to run out between them but you were restrained by your guard. It didn’t take long for Giorno and his men to restrain your mother and her associate, taking care to leave them largely unharmed while you were still present. Giorno had made one fatal error though… blame it on overconfidence or his need to constantly check on you, he had turned away and left himself wide open for a last ditch attack from your mother as she broke free. At that very moment, your body moved itself before you could even think, and faster than you ever thought possible, pushing him out of the way with only a second to spare, as the attack hit the very spot he had stood on just a moment before, shattering the marble flooring on contact. The room was enveloped in silence, Giorno motioned for his guards to leave the room, as did your mother to her partner.

“(y/n) … tesoro mio… are you okay? You… you saved me…” he said as he kneeled next to your shaking, winged form, combing his hands through your hair as he tried to get a look at your face. You looked up to see Giorno with a wide eyed golden figure hovering over him, approaching you was your mother, with a luminescent humanoid woman matching her footsteps.

“Tesoro, it seems you’re a stand user after all,” mentioned Giorno, still gazing at you, this time with an expression you hadn’t seen from him before. Completely overwhelmed by the recent events, you sat for a moment, trying to regulate your breathing with the exercises Giorno practiced with you when your anxiety overwhelmed you.

“So these are what stands are… they look terrifying…” you say, finally managing to normalize your breathing and take command of your senses once again. “where is my stand then? I presume these two figures belong to you and mother.”

“Yours is different amore… are you able to walk? Come with me…” Giorno lead you to one of the mirrors so you could see how your stand manifested; you had large wings that had sprouted from your back, your eyes glowed colorlessly, and you had luminescent geometric patterns running down your face and body, akin to the patterns you would find on a circuit board. “You have what is known as a phenomenon stand, this means that it changes your body rather than manifesting a separate entity,”

“I see…”

“We can figure out the extent of your abilities another time, for now I need to see those injuries,”

“Excuse me? You’re not doing anything further with her, I’m still serious about taking back (y/n),” interjected your mother sarcastically.

“Are you trying to anger me on purpose? I loathe having to repeat myself. Do not mistake my unwillingness to kill you this very instant on anything other than respect for (y/n),”

“Likewise…”

“You’re both so selfish!” surprised to hear you raise your voice that much, both parties were stunned to silence.

“I’m a person with my own will, I have feelings, thoughts, desires, dreams… but neither of you bother to consider any of that… Giorno, you essentially abducted me, under the ruse of protecting me, I’m sure you would have found a way to keep me safe while I lived my own life, if it was that important to you, but you weren’t interested in that… if you had just approached me like a normal person, I’d still have fallen for you… well I guess now we’ll never know … And you… mother- I use that term liberally- abandoned me… abandoned us, I don’t care what the reasons were, you left me to grow up without a mother, and now you come here and ridicule me with this dramatic display of affection,” your voice began to crack but you wouldn’t let them see you cry, not so soon after finally finding your voice, so you left them there and went off to your special spot in the far corner of the estate. You knew that Giorno created that little piece of heaven for you strategically, as it was visible from his study, but it served as your safe place, and it was what you needed right now.

Giorno’s mind was clouded and he felt an uncomfortable suffocating sensation in his chest. Glancing at your mother it was apparent that your emotional outpouring had affected her as well.

“I think its best if you leave,”

“Wait, Giorno… perhaps this approach wasn’t the best way to do this, I underestimated you…”

“For the sake of curiosity, what do you propose?”

“That’s going to depend on how you answer my next question…”

“For someone with as few options as you have, you’re incredibly brazen,” shot back Giorno, clearly becoming tired of the conversation.

“I spoke to her father before coming here… he told me about my son… is… is he dead?” speaking earnestly this time, your mother steeling herself for what the young don would say to her. He observed her intently, debating whether it would be safe to divulge any information to her.

“That’s classified information,” he said, knowing full well that the idiot was alive somewhere, unable to be a threat to anyone again, unfortunately he couldn’t divulge this information to anyone. If she was smart enough she would be able to figure it out for herself, any more than that he could not offer.

“I understand… Fine, I’ll back off, (y/n) can stay here… but I need to speak to her, to explain everything, when she’s ready though…”

Giorno contemplated for a moment, feeling oddly moved by the change in your mother’s demeanor, he found himself agreeing with her, “Fine… I’ll allow it, but I can’t have you here, never again, if you need to see her, we’ll come to you… if that’s all, I need to check on (y/n)” Your mother took her leave, thoughts of the bizarre events of the day dominating her thoughts.

You listlessly played with the water in the fountain you sat beside, eyeing the way the sunshine made the droplets that fell from your fingertips look like gems. Hearing the scrunching sound of grass being stepped on, you knew that Giorno was approaching you. Unwilling to turn around to face him, you continued to look at the water.

“May I sit with you?” his voice was tender and didn’t match his imposing figure. Looking up his striking face, framed by golden waves, you nodded wordlessly.

“Talk to me cara…”

“What do you want me to say?”

“What’s on your mind…”

You paused, thinking carefully before starting to speak. “There’s so much on my mind… I… I just can’t understand you. You bring me here under the most dubious circumstances, but treat me like I’m the center of your world. I want to hate you for taking me away from my world, but I’ve never felt as loved by anyone in that world as much as I do here with you. How can you look at me with eyes so gentle now, when those same eyes were ready to kill not even two hours ago? How am I supposed to make up my mind about you when your every action contradicts the next?”

“It’s simple bella… I love you… you’re above the rules I set for everyone else… my one weakness is you, I’m sorry, I just don’t know how else to be, it’s either everything or nothing. Perhaps, forget about what you think and focus on how you feel… You know, we aren’t that different, the two of us… so many parents between us and barely enough traits among them to make up one good guardian, having to basically raise ourselves, so much pressure from such a young age, being scared of what lurks in the dark, experiencing so much physical pain, you just become immune to it. I have to admit, I was jealous of that brave assault by your mother, I don’t know if anyone would do the same for me… except you of course… you almost died to get me out of harm’s way… and just when I thought I couldn’t love you any more than I do…”

The gentle way he cupped your chin, as if you were made of crystal, and the swirl of emotion in his eyes, compelled you to act on your impulses, kissing him passionately, releasing some of the pent up emotions and frustrations that have been building up for the longest time. His free hand curled itself around your waist, while your hands tangled themselves in his hair. Resting your forehead on his, you hear him murmuring affirmations of his love for you.

“I love you too, Gio,” the words just rolled off your tongue as if you were always meant to say them. Giorno, seemingly moved by your placid declaration, buried his face in your hair, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo that he loved so much. What you didn’t see was the sardonic smile blooming on his handsome face. He always was a master at deception… although, it couldn’t be classified as deception if most of what he said was true… could it? He didn’t want to play the sympathy card today, but it was the only way he could firmly cement your place with him for good. Pulling away for a moment, looking at the love-struck expression on your face as you softly move your hand from his hair to his chest, he could see that you were finally complete- entirely devoted to him… there was no room for guilt this time.

[fanmoose12]

Nifa Strikes Back

Levi hates St. Valentine’s Day with burning passion. The only thing that makes this holiday somewhat bearable to him is a little tradition he shares with his best friend Hange. But after hearing the news that Hange is going to skip the years-long ritual to go on a date with someone else, Levi is faced with conflicting and severely confusing feelings. 

thanks @innocent-ghost-demon for the idea! (i’m sorry it took me so long to actually write it lmao)

In Levi's personal opinion, St. Valentine's Day was the worst holiday of them all. It was meaningless and explorative and it served no other purpose than to fill the pockets of flowers and chocolate sellers. Levi hated it with burning passion, getting groceries in the weeks leading to the forsaken holiday was the cruelest torture, as he was immensely annoyed by big pink hearts and cute figurines with naked babies on display. It was almost impossible for him not to gag.

The only thing that quelled his hatred towards this day was a small tradition he shared with his best friend Hange. It had started years ago, when they were still in college. Hange's boyfriend had dumped her - she was heartbroken and upset, while Levi was furious and ready to go, find that bastard and beat the shit out of him for making Hange cry. Naturally, as college students, they knew only one way to deal with that kind of complicated feelings - get absolutely wasted at the local bar. Next morning they woke up with the worst hangovers of their lives and vowed to never repeat the same mistake.

But next year, Hange was rejected by a girl she wanted to ask on a date, and, like a good friend he was, Levi once again offered his shoulder for Hange to cry on. And once again they've found themselves clinging to each other as they shakily stumbled towards their dorm.

They got drunk that year again. And that's what they've been doing every year after that.

It was the only thing that got Levi through the awful holiday. Because of that, he was actually looking forward to it.

***

"Hey, four-eyes," Levi looked over the wall that separated their cubicles, throwing a small piece of paper to get Hange's attention. "Is your place as messy as usual? Or have you cleaned it for the occasion?"

"Huh?" Hange raised her eyes from a screen, pushing the glasses up her nose. "What do you mean?"

Another paper was thrown at Hange. This one landed on her lap.

"The shitty holiday, Hange. It's this weekend. So are we going to your place of mine?"

"Oh," Hange raised her hand, rubbing her neck. "About that..."

Levi frowned, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Did he hear a twinge of hesitation in Hange's voice? That was unusual. What could it mean?

"I can't go this year."

His frown turned into a scowl. "Why the fuck not?"

"I have a date."

Levi blinked. Hange's words... surprised him. And more than that, his own reaction surprised him. He felt displeased, but not just that. He was angry, he was disappointed. He was sad?

"You're going on a date?" he asked, cursing the weakness that colored his voice. What was going on with him?

"Yeah, sorry," Hange gave him an apologetic smile. "With all this work, I forgot to tell you about it."

"That's fine," he answered, even though it wasn't fine. Hange was going on a date, and Levi wasn't fine with it. Why wasn't he? Hange was his best friend, he was supposed to feel happy for her, right? Did it mean that he was a bad friend?

No, Levi decided. He wasn't a bad friend, he was a good one. He was worried about Hange, he had seen her get hurt by someone else, and he simply didn't wish to repeat the experience.

"Who is your date?"

Was it someone from the office, he wondered. If it was their co-worker, that'd be good, Levi could keep an eye on them then. But what if they start dating? Would Hange stop spending her lunch-breaks with him? Would she go and bother someone else if she's bored? Would she pay less attention to him?

Levi shot that train of thought as quickly as it appeared. He didn’t like thinking about it. It made him feel weird. It made him upset.

"It's Nifa's cousin, she set us up. I don't know the guy yet," Hange shrugged. "But if he's at least half as cute as Nifa, then it's worth a shot, eh?"

She looked at him then, tilting her head and smiling. It was Levi's cue to congratulate her and wish her luck. Or express his pity towards the guy. Instead there was an unpleasant, ugly feeling inside him. Hange broke their years-long tradition. To go on a date. With someone else.

And it pissed him off.

"Levi?" Hange reached out to him, grasping the sleeve of his jacket with her fingers. "Are you alright? You look a bit weird. Are you upset that we won't be hanging out this year? I'm sorry about that, I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have to," he grunted, shaking Hange's hand off. He turned around, feeling the acute need to leave. The concern on Hange’s face was annoying him. "Have fun on your date and don't worry about me. I wasn't looking forward to our get-together anyway."

*** It took Levi two days to admit his own weakness.

He promised to himself to ignore Hange. To forget about her stupid date and stupid feelings it had provoked in him.

But then he saw Nifa alone in the hallway and he just had to ask.

He approached the girl, stopping just behind her shoulder. "Your cousin," his rough, low voice made Nifa jump. She didn't hear him walk up to her. "Is he a good man?"

Despite a scare Levi just gave her, Nifa's lips lifted into a smug smirk. She looked at Levi, observing him closely. His face was as blank as always, but his shoulders were uncharacteristically tight and his eyes showed even more annoyance than usual.

Her plan was working.

"Cousin Greg?" Nifa twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "He's great! I think Hange would get along with him!"

Cousin Greg wasn't that great actually. In fact, he was quite boring and very annoying. But Nifa wanted to help her superiors admit their feelings for each other and Greg owed her a favor after that time when she had covered for him during the grannies' birthday. Hange didn't have to like him. In fact, if she starts liking him, it'd destroy all of Nifa's plans.

Hange didn't have to like Greg. And Levi didn't have to like the fact that Hange was going on a date with him.

Evidently, the most important part of her plan already proved to be a success.

"He won't hurt four-eyes, right?" Levi asked, a shadow of worry passing through his eyes.

"He won't," Nifa promised with a serious face. Inside, however, she could barely contain herself. Levi was so concerned! It was so cute! Nifa needed to share these news with someone, and quick.

"Alright," Levi pressed his lips together and nodded. "Thanks." He added before walking away, his head bowed and shoulders slumped.

As she watched him go, Nifa's heart constricted painfully. Levi looked so miserable, just like a kicked puppy. She actually felt bad for him.

It was for his own good, she had to remind herself. She was doing him a favor. Levi, no, Hange too - both of them - will later thank her for this. She was doing a right thing.

Nifa repeated these words a couple of times and then rushed over to the break room, where she knew she would most surely find Moblit. Her best friend would be thrilled to hear about her success. 

*** He wasn't brooding, he told himself as he threw another disgustingly sweet candy in his mouth.

He wasn't sulking, Levi thought, as he put the glass of wine to his lips. It was awful. He had been drinking this brand of wine for years, but he never noticed how mawkish it was. Hange’s taste in wine was as horrible as her taste in romantic partners.

He didn't care about Hange and her stupid date, Levi tried to convince himself, paying only half of his attention to the movie.

On his TV screen Harry ran away from Sally after their first night together, and Levi scoffed at his stupidity. It was obvious they're in love with each other, why couldn’t they just admit it? They were both idiots and this movie was stupid, Levi decided. Why Hange liked it so much was beyond him.

***

Harry and Sally started arguing at the wedding, when Levi's phone started ringing. He made no move to get up and pick it. It couldn't be Hange calling, because she was on a date. And if that was Erwin, informing him of some emergency at work, he could kindly go and fuck himself. It was Levi's day-off and he was allowed to be as miserable as he wanted in the coziness of his apartment.

After a few seconds his phone fell silent, but before Levi could sigh with relief and continue watching the movie, he heard a few pings that announced that he had received a couple of messages. Erwin wasn't one for texting, and that got Levi wondering who was trying to get into contact with him.

Was it Petra, inviting him to a bar with others from their office?

Or, maybe, that was Yeager or any of his friends, wishing him a happy holiday?

Either way, Levi decided to ignore the messages too. If it was Petra, she'd understand his desire to be left alone. And if the messages were from any of their interns, then Levi most certainly didn't want to deal with that. It was bad enough they'd given him chocolate at work. It made him feel like he was a high school teacher, not a partner of the law firm.

He shouldn’t support this kind of behavior, Levi decided and returned his attention to the movie. 

*** Levi was halfway through a bottle of wine and Harry was ready to confess to Sally.

Fucking finally, he thought, pouring himself more wine. What kind of idiots waste twelve years denying the feelings they have for each other? Just when Harry was going to say those three little words, someone knocked on Levi's front door. With glass of wine still lifted to his lips, Levi paused the movie and stared at the door, wondering who could be fearless enough to visit him at ten pm.

As he continued to sit and ponder on it, the initially soft knocks turned into vicious bangs.

Cursing at the impatient idiot, Levi put the glass down and got to his feet, marching to the door with a glare on his face.

He threw the door open and— froze, blinking in surprise.

Hange stood on a threshold, holding a bottle of wine in her hands and wearing a wide grin on her lips.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

Levi bit his cheek to keep himself from blurting out 'yes'.

"What happened to your other one?" he asked instead, putting on a mask of cold indifference.

"Ah," she ruffled her hair. "He was actually boring as hell. Not even half as cute as Nifa," she shrugged. "I guess she's the sole owner of all adorable genes in their family."

Levi scoffed, plucking his lips. He would not give Hange the satisfaction of laughing at her lame joke. "Your date turned out to be a moron, so what? You've decided to come and bother me?"

"Yeah? Would you let me in or not?"

Levi knew he could put up a fight. He could tell Hange how annoying and inconsiderate she was. But he also knew that it would result in absolutely nothing. Hange would still get what she wants. He would still let her get what she wants. Because in all the years of their friendship he hadn't learned how to say no to her.

So with an irritated tsk and a shake of his head, Levi took a step back, allowing Hange to come inside.

"Did you bring something, except wine?" he asked while Hange was busy taking off her shoes.

"Yes!" Hange passed him her handbag.

Levi opened, finding chocolate inside. Lots of chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

"Four-eyes. Did you rob the candy shop?" he inquired dryly.

"No!" Hange snickered. "These are gifts."

Levi had received chocolate too. His collection wasn't quite as vast as Hange's, though.

"Are all of these from brats?"

"Some are from my team. Where's your chocolate, by the way? If I received so many, I can't even imagine how much you got."

"It seems like this year you're more popular than me," Levi pointed at only a couple of box of chocolates on his coffee table.

Hange's face fell after his words. She even opened her mouth, probably with the intent to apologize or, god forbid, comfort him. Levi scowled, silently telling Hange the misplaced pity to herself. He didn't really care about such trivial matters.

And he was more than happy to find out how well-loved Hange was. She deserved nothing less than that after all.

"Don't just stand there," he snapped, when Hange continued to stare at him without saying anything or even moving.

Hange lifted the corners of her lips and hurried after Levi to the living room.

"Oh!" as soon as she saw what was on the TV screen, she clasped her hands in delight. "When Harry Meets Sally! I love this movie!"

I know, Levi almost said.

"And it's one of my favorite scenes!" Hange continued to gash. She plopped down on Levi's sofa with a wide grin.

However, as she took a closer look on a coffee table, her excitement diminished considerably.

"Two glasses?" she mumbled, frowning in confusion. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"No, it's just..."

A habit, Levi realized. He put two glasses simply out of habit. He was so used to drinking with Hange that he had taken two glasses without even thinking.

"It's nothing," he finished awkwardly. "Let's watch the movie."

Hange stared him for a second, her eyes wary. But then she snapped out of it and a smile returned to her lips. She waited until Levi took his place on a sofa and then put her head on his thigh.

"Must you always do it?" Levi complained without making a single move to change their position. "I'm not a piece of furniture, you know."

"Just put on a movie, Levi," Hange mumbled, too used to his constant bitching to have any kind of reaction to it.

"So bossy," he huffed, but took the remote in his hands and resumed the movie.

On a screen, Harry was confessing to Sally.

"It's kinda bizarre, don't you think?" Hange asked. "They knew each other for so long and yet they've realized their true feelings only years after."

"It's a movie, Hange."

"So you think it's unrealistic?" she lifted her head to stare at him. "That two people can be close friends for years and continue to be blind, refusing to see how much they need each other?"

"I think you have to be unbelievably dense to not realize that you're in love with your best friend."

Hange giggled, and the quiet sound was like music to Levi's ears. "Yeah, maybe, you're right. They're really dense."

"Idiots," Levi agreed, laying a hand on her shoulder and pulling her closer.

[vivianweasley]

Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 4)

Summary: Your father is Lucius Malfoy’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley. 

In this chapter: Christmas at the burrow!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Fem!Reader. slight mention of Ron X Hermione.

Warnings: mention of food, the reader’s shampoo smells apple (cuz i love the smell of apples and this will be useful in later chapters asfdjgk)

Word count: 1.6k

disclaimer: all pictures used in the header are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on any platform! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Pride and Prejudice Series Masterlist

You were sitting under the tree outside of the Burrow, making little flower rings and crowns. That was when you saw someone running towards you, and before you could recognize who it was, that shadow already climbed up the tree.

“Fred Weasley!! You say sorry to Ron right now!” Then you heard Mrs. Weasley’s voice shouting and coming your way. Beside her was a crying four-year-old boy, covered in paint. He was crying, but his state somehow made you chuckle. 

“Y/N, dear, did you see Fred?” Mrs. Weasley stopped when she saw you and tried her best to put on a smile when she asked.

Maybe it was because Ron was crying in such a hilarious way. Maybe it was because you were interested in meeting the person who did this, so you covered for Fred, “I didn’t, Mrs. Weasley.” 

Molly has always heard from your parents that you were a well-behaved kid, so she didn’t doubt a word you said and walked away. 

The little prankster finally climbed down the tree after Molly went back into the house. He held out his hand to you, “Thank you for helping me! I’m Fred! What’s your name?”

You shook his hand, “Y/N.”

“Brilliant! What’s the word again-Ah! Since you just covered for me, we’re officially partners in crime now!”

You chuckled at his silly wink. You didn’t have any siblings, and you weren’t very close with your cousins either. So you were happy that you were making friends. 

“What are you doing out here?”

“Making flower rings.” The flowers in your hand suddenly reminded you of something. You took a flower ring you just made and slipped it onto his left ring finger. He blinked and looked at you confused.

“I saw it somewhere that partners in crime wear matching rings. So here’s yours,” you explained and showed off the matching ring on your left hand, “and here’s mine.”

“Wicked!”

~

You were at the Burrow, nervously playing with the little silver flower on your wedding ring. This was actually the first time you were back at the Burrow even though you married Fred months ago. After all, it was a fake marriage, so you weren’t obligated to go to each other’s family gatherings. But it’s Christmas, and Molly insisted on having you at the Burrow, so your fake marriage would look more realistic.

So here you were, fidgeting at your husband’s childhood home. It wasn’t the first time you were at the Burrow, but for some reason, you were suddenly nervous that you won’t make a good impression. What if Molly spent time with you and realized this fake marriage was a mistake? What if the other Weasleys didn’t like you? What if-

“What are you thinking?” Fred’s voice startled you.

Of course, you weren’t going to tell him the truth, “Nothing.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t ask more questions. Instead, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and started bringing you to the door, “Well then, let’s go!”

“To where?”

“Quidditch game! I need you to cheer for me and my team!”

“Okay, but I’m only cheering for the winning team!”

You and Hermione were sitting under the tree, watching their game. You had to admit that today’s game was indeed very intense. It was no less exciting than the school quidditch matches.

Hermione was watching carefully with her fists clenched. She would cheer when Ron successfully hit away the quaffle. And she would chuckle and whisper, “Idiot,” when Ron put on a silly face as he cheered.

You brought a book to the match, but your eyes were on Fred the entire time, following him wherever he goes. You noticed how his forearm muscle would tense up and how serious he looked when he’s focused. How come you never realized that your fake husband looked this good when he was playing quidditch. 

Before you even realized what you were doing, you started cheering silently when Fred hit the bludger and gasping when the bludger almost hit him. You turned to look at Hermione when she was cheering for Ron again, and you realized you were just doing the same thing. And at this moment, you felt like you were really Fred’s wife, instead of just playing the part.

The game came to an end with Ron’s team winning and Fred’s losing. Everyone was cheering for Ron, while Fred just sat next to you quietly, with defeat written all over his face.

“I think you were brilliant out there,” you commented.

“I thought you were reading a book.”

“I was watching the game, too,” you continued, “Ron was pretty good, but if you didn’t save him, that bludger could’ve broken his arm.”

Fred turned to look at you with his eyes widened, looking very surprised, and you continued, “And I saw you hitting the bludger away three times more than George did.”

“So you were paying attention to me?”

”Of course,” you rolled your eyes to cover for the fact that your cheeks were heating up, “I was paying attention to you because you are my only friend here. Plus, you are my husband. It would be a little embarrassing for me too if you weren’t doing good.” You blurted out all the excuses you could find and went back inside with the others.

But Fred found himself unable to move. Growing up with six other siblings, it seemed like no one ever paid attention to him and only him. Sometimes he felt like even his mother would just treat him and George as one inseparable group collectively. 

But now, you were only paying attention to him. And the way you said “my husband” worked like a spell that rendered him motionless. He was unable to do anything except for blushing and smiling like an idiot.

~

“Your mum’s cooking is so much better than yours,” you mumbled after you swallowed your food and took a sip of your drink.

“Yea, but my cooking is still better than yours,” Fred said as he dumped a spoonful of your favorite dish on your plate. 

Molly smiled with adoration when she saw you and Fred helping each other to your favorite dishes so naturally without saying a thing. The last time she saw you two sitting at the same table, you were still rolling eyes at each other.

You glared at Fred, trying to think of a smart comeback. But Ginny spoke first, “You know how to cook? How come you never cooked for us?”

Fred smiled at his sister, “Yea, that’s not happening.”

“I can cook for you! I’m better than him, anyway,” you offered as you glared at Fred one more time.

“Okay, I’ve only known Y/N for less than a day, but I already like my sister-in-law better than you.” 

“At least I won’t burn my toast twice in a morning.” 

“I was in a hurry!” you protested, “At least I didn’t almost burn the kitchen down with a roast chicken.”

Ginny laughed at how you two were bickering like an old married couple. She wasn’t exaggerating when she said she liked her new sister-in-law. She always thought you were pretty cool back in Hogwarts, especially after seeing you comforting and protecting a few younger students when the death eaters were controlling the school. “Y/N, where are you staying tonight? You can stay in my room if you want.” But she soon realized something, “Or are you staying in Fred’s room?”

You blushed at Ginny’s question and immediately looked away, trying to search for a good response. 

“Don’t worry about it, Ginny. They are pretty used to sharing a bed, right?” George raised his eyebrows as he teased.

“Oh shove off!” Fred glared at George, but you could feel your face heating up like an oven. Luckily, baby Victoire started crying, distracting everyone, and saving you from further questions.

~

After the dinner, Fred stayed downstairs to catch up with Bill, and you went upstairs on your own. The twins used to share the same bedroom, but George moved to Charlie's room since you were here for Christmas, leaving their childhood bedroom to you and Fred.

When Fred went upstairs, he saw you reading by the windowsill. It was strange having a girl here in his childhood bedroom. But watching you sitting there and reading so intently with your lower lip between your teeth, Fred felt like it made sense for you to be there. It felt natural, like you were the owner of this room. 

“What are you reading?” Fred asked as he approached you.

“Pride and Prejudice,” you replied without looking at him.

“Never heard of it. Who’s the author?”

“You say it like you’ve read many books,” you finally looked up to mock him, “The author is called Jane Austen. She’s a muggle writer.”

Fred was surprised, “You’re reading a muggle book?”

“Yea. As long as it’s a great book, muggle or wizard, I will read it. Unlike you, not reading anything at all.” you glared at him, for you knew he was assuming things about you again.

Fred wasn’t offended by your comment. Instead, he propped up his head with his hand and looked at you, “How about you read it to me, so I could say I read it too.”

You rolled your eyes but still picked up the book and started reading. Fred always loved your voice. Now listening to you reading a book to him, your voice felt like a soft lullaby, calming him down and soothing his soul.

Fred smiled and decided to rest his head on your lap. You rolled your eyes again but didn’t stop him. Your fingers soon started combing his hair absent-mindedly. Fred closed his eyes contently, taking in the smell of your apple shampoo. This night was just perfectly peaceful and tranquil.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“One year later, after we got a divorce, if you still want to come here during Christmas...I think my mum would be happy to have you.”

“That would be lovely,” you replied as a warm feeling spread through your body. You had a feeling that you understood what he was trying to say.

(to be continued.)

Chapter 5

~

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[drabbles-mc]

Ethics

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader (platonic)

Request by the love of my life @garbinge: I saw this on a prompt list and immediately thought. “Taylor’s Nestor”: “what i’m thinking of asking you is unethical and it might be illegal. but morally, it’s the right thing to do.” Leaving everything else up to you!!

Warnings: language, mentions of animal abuse

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I have been thinking about this every day since you sent it to me. I played out a bunch of different scenarios in my head but when I had this thought I just had to use it. I sort of loved the idea of him needing help with something that wasn’t crazy high-stakes, something completely outside his comfort zone. Hope you like it!! xo

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“I just always thought that the roles here would be reversed,” you sighed, running your hands down over your face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he looked confused, on the brink of being offended.

You looked at him from between your fingers, “You work for the cartel, Nestor. I figured that if one of us was going to be asking for a sketchy favor, it would be me going to you.”

He sat back in his chair, “Not everything I do is—” he cut himself short, shaking his head, “Never mind. Will you…will you hear me out?”

“Do I really have a choice?” your laugh was hollow.

His brows furrowed for a moment as he waited for you to meet his eyes. He wasn’t always great with his words but you could see almost everything that he was thinking if you looked into his eyes long enough.

He leaned forward, elbows coming to rest just above his knees, “Of course you do. You always do. I…I know that what I’m thinking of asking you is unethical and it might be illegal. But morally, it’s the right thing to do.”

“Might be illegal?”

He paused and you could see that despite everything, he was biting back a smile, “Alright. So…it’s definitely illegal. But we’ve already agreed before that most laws are fucking—”

“Dumb. I know,” you rested your hands in your lap, twisting your fingers nervously, “But thinking that most laws are dumb in theory is not the same as breaking the dumb laws.”

“Would it help if I said it gets easier the more you do it?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, “No.”

“Okay. Well. Worst case scenario—we do this and we get caught. You probably won’t even have to do hard time.”

You scoff, “Aiding and abetting will get me serious time.”

He shook his head, brushing off your statement, “It really isn’t that high-stakes, I promise. It also has nothing to do with Galindo.”

That was the most reassuring thing that he’d said to you all night. Part of you assumed that it wouldn’t have anything to do with the cartel—Nestor tried to keep that part of his life as far away from you as he could. It was as much for your own sanity as it was for his. But if it had nothing to do with Galindo and the cartel, you had no idea what kind of favor he would possibly be coming to you with.

You sat back in your chair, “So. What can I help you with, Nestor?”

“I need you to steal some stuff from work.”

Confusion took over your entire face, “What?”

“I need you to steal some supplies from work. I…I don’t know what yet. I’ll need your help with that part too.”

“Why do you need me to steal stuff from work? They like me there,” you rested your hands on the back of your neck, “You don’t even have a dog. Or a pet of any kind, for that matter.”

“About that,” he couldn’t meet your eyes for a moment, “I do now.”

“Then just…bring them in to see me? Why do we have to make it illegal?”

“Because I stole them.”

“What?” you were trying not to yell.

“I had to!”

There were a million things that you wanted to ask Nestor—you didn’t even know where to start. In all the time that you’d known him, he’d never really been an animal person. He didn’t dislike them, but realistically he just didn’t feel that he had the time for one. You wanted to know how he landed himself in a position where he had to illegally obtain an animal, and drag you into it.

“Why did you have to? When were you ever in a position to take an animal?”

“Will you help me, or not? Because I have a gut feeling that my house is getting ripped apart by them as we speak. I’ll fill you in on the details on the way.”

You sighed, but you knew that you were going to cave and go with him. You were never able to turn away from an animal that needed your help. You also knew that there were very few times in the years that you’ve been friends with Nestor that you ever told him ‘no’ about much of anything, anyway.

“Alright,” you stood up off the couch and gestured towards the door, “let’s go, then.”

“Seriously?” his eyes grew wide, surprised that you were letting him take you along for whatever ride this was about to me.

“Yea,” you shook your head, “Don’t make me change my fucking mind.”

He practically jumped out of his chair and raced towards the door. He had been expecting to have to do some more convincing. He held the door for you and waited anxiously for you to lock it before walking over to his SUV.

“You steal them in this?” you asked as you sat in the passenger seat, “Because it’s not exactly what I would call discreet.”

“I don’t think someone ratting on me is going to be a problem.”

You looked over at him, eyes wide, “What’d you do?”

He glanced over and saw the look on your face, instantly shaking his head to dispel whatever thoughts you were conjuring up, “Not that. Jesus.”

The rest of the ride passed in semi-silence. The radio played to fill the space between the two of you. You nervously twisted your hands in your lap as you tried to think of what you could possibly be walking into. You wanted to ask Nestor for details about how he ended up in this position, but something told you that he’d get around to explaining it eventually.

He pulled into his driveway and his house was completely dark. It all seemed quiet. You had been expecting to hear a feral animal from a mile away, but all was calm. You unbuckled your seatbelt and waited for a cue from Nestor as to what to do next. You could see the nerves in his eyes and it made you nervous. The man worked for a fucking cartel and yet he was worried about whatever he was walking you into.

With a deep sigh he opened the door and hopped out of the car, waiting for you to do the same. You jumped out and walked beside him, your arm brushing against his every few steps as you tried to keep up with his stride. The two of you stood on his front step as he slid the key into the lock on the door.

“You know that I don’t know shit about dogs,” he slowly pushed the door open, cautiously reaching in and turning on the light, “So you gotta be real with me about how over my head I am with this.”

“Oh boy,” you chuckled nervously as you walked in behind him, anxiously looking around the house.

It was silent, and that was more concerning to you than if you had walked into a pit of chaos. You followed Nestor through the house, both of you looking around for the animal in question. The fact that he seemed as clueless as you was unsettling to say the least.

“You just let them have the run of the house?” you asked in a hushed tone, not quite sure why you were whispering.

“Clearly I wasn’t really thinking things through, alright?” he was trying to sound annoyed but you could hear the smile in his voice.

The entire downstairs was empty. For a moment you worried that the dog had escaped, but then you remembered whose house you were in—it was practically a fortress. Nestor walked upstairs and you waited at the top while he walked down the hall towards his room. He was standing still in the doorway when you heard him let out a chuckle. Figuring that meant it was at least safe enough for you to walk over, you did just that.

You peered around his shoulder and your eyes went wide at the sight in front of you. The scene raised more questions than it answered, but you had to take a moment to enjoy it regardless. In the middle of Nestor’s perfectly made bed, laid a perfectly content rottweiler. They laid there as though they owned the place, and something told you that from here on out they essentially would. Something told you that he was going to do everything he could to keep this dog, and also spoil it beyond belief. You couldn’t wait to see that happen.

“You stole a fucking rottweiler?” you finally broke the silence.

“It wasn’t my game plan for the day. It just…happened?”

You had to let yourself be amused by the fact that the two of you were lingering in the doorway, watching the dog as it curiously watched you, “How does it just happen? Like, is someone going to come looking for them?”

He shook his head, “I doubt that. Owners weren’t taking care of them anyway. I saw what they were doing and I couldn’t just fuckin—” he stopped himself and took a deep breath before he let himself get heated all over again, “I just…stepped in and told them to give me the dog if they weren’t going to take care of it.”

You raised your eyebrows, “And they just…handed over the dog?”

“It took a little convincing but…yea.”

You didn’t know if you wanted him to elaborate on what that meant or not. The fact that he didn’t immediately offer up the information led you to believe that it was a good time to give yourself some plausible deniability. You already felt like this situation was on the brink of getting out of control anyway. So rather than prying, you slowly started to approach the bed, trying to make yourself seem as unthreatening as possible.

Truthfully, the dog was in rough shape. They obviously hadn’t been fed properly in a while. No glaring cuts or outward injuries that you could see, but their ears were torn and you could see old scars and little missing patches of hair here and there. You didn’t try to reach out and touch them, or make them move, instead just sitting on the edge farthest from them and waiting to see what happened.

As the minutes ticked by, you slowly inched your way closer. The dog was obviously, and rightfully, wary of you. But they didn’t growl, or attempt to get up and move away from you. The entire time Nestor watched on in silent awe at your patience. At one point he slowly slumped down to the floor, leaning back against the doorframe but still able to watch you.

You were finally able to land yourself next to the dog and you slowly held your hand out to let them sniff it, which they did. You were careful but your moves weren’t hesitant, not wanting to show that you were feeling at all uneasy. The dog let you run your hand along its wide forehead and down its neck. After you repeated the motion a few times, speaking sweetly and softly to them, they laid down on their side with a happy groan.

You chuckled as you continued to pet their neck, “That’s a good girl,” you brought your hand back to your lap and looked over at Nestor, “I mean…she seems fine for the time being.  The fact that she’s not whining in pain and that she’s letting me touch her are both good signs. I’d have to see her walk and everything to get a better idea. And I’d also really like to get her in and officially checked out.”

“Yea but I—”

You cut him off, “We can do it off-hours. Not like it’s gonna take the whole office to give her a check-up. I’ll think about what I can do if she has a chip in her, although something tells me she probably doesn’t. But for tonight, I’m gonna run out and get her some food and stuff. You’ll have to get her slowly back to a healthy weight,” you paused, looking over at him, “You can come over, you know. I’d say that she’s fairly comfortable given her previous circumstances.”

Nestor nodded as he slowly walked over. The dog lifted her head and Nestor stopped for a moment, but when she didn’t show any signs of being nervous or agitated, he came closer still. He squatted down slightly, not quite wanting to be face-level with her just yet. She gave his arm and hand a sniff before rubbing her head against it. You watched as a soft smile spread over Nestor’s features while he rubbed along her forehead and behind her ears. The soft streak that you knew Nestor had was in full effect. When the two of them got settled and more comfortable with each other, when the dog was healthy and acclimated to being in a home where she was getting taken care of properly, you knew the two of them were going to make an unstoppable team. They were definitely going to be the most intimidating pair to walk past on the sidewalk.

“You comfortable if I leave?” you asked, already feeling pretty certain of the answer.

He nodded, “Yea. Let me give you some cash for the food and shit.”

He shifted to pull out his wallet but you waved him off, “Don’t worry about it—this is part of helping you out. I’d much rather pay for some food and basic necessities than steal shit from my job. Consider this part of my dues for the favor.”

A smirk passed over his face for a moment, “I owe you.”

“Yea,” you walked towards the door of the bedroom, laughing quietly, “you sure fuckin’ do.”

The trip to the store was relatively quick. You grabbed some dog food, a pair of bowls for food and water, and some supplements that you knew would be good for her and would help get her back to where she needed to get to. You also took photos of a few different crate options for Nestor to look at. As much as you wanted to go overboard, you didn’t want to get too far ahead of yourself.

When you walked back into the house, you could head the television playing upstairs. You figured that that was a good sign. You set a few of the items down in the kitchen, opting to just fill the food and water bowls and walk them up to Nestor’s room.

You could hear him talking to her once you reached the top of the stairs, and you chuckled at the way he was conversing with her about whatever TV show they were watching, “It’s never the first guy they bring in. I don’t know why they’re wasting their fucking time.”

Walking in, you had a snarky comment ready about him already teaching her the ins and outs of crime. However, when you saw the way that they two of them were existing together, you lost your train of thought completely. Nestor was on one side of the bed, leaning back against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him, and the dog was on the other side of the bed, sitting upright also facing the television. The two of them looked like quite the pair. There was a little bit of space between them, but you could tell that it was a comfortable distance. Nestor reached over and scratched behind her ears as you walked in.

“Nice to see you two getting along,” you held the bowls up slightly, “Brought some food and water up here.”

Once you set the bowls down, she hopped off the bed and quickly made her way over to them. You watched the way that she walked, making a note to take a closer look at her joints when Nestor brought her in for you to check her out. You kept your distance while she was eating, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed next to Nestor.

He motioned for you to sit next to him and you casually leaned against the outside of his arm while you both watched her eat. You broke the silence, “I’ll show you how to measure out her food and stuff so you know how much to give her. Gotta be careful putting weight on her—can’t overfeed her or anything even if you want to, okay?”

He nodded, “Got it.”

“Also make sure you give her a lot of space when she’s eating. She’ll probably be extra defensive over food for a long while.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and make sure—”

“Y/N?” he smiled down at you.

“I sound bossy, don’t I?” you laughed and shook your head, “I’m sorry.”

He chuckled, “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you know so much. I was just, I was gonna ask,” he paused for a moment and you saw concern flash across his face, “You think I did the right thing? You think I’ll be able to take care of her?”

You nodded without any hesitation, “Of course. It’ll take some time for her to fully trust you and get comfortable. But she’s doing well so far. I think she realizes that she’s in a safer place now. Just give it time and let her be the one to warm up to you, you know?”

He nodded, “Right, right.”

After a few more minutes, the mattress dipped as the dog hopped back up onto the bed again. She resumed her sitting position on the other side of Nestor, looking around the room before turning her gaze towards the television. Both you and Nestor chuckled at the fact that she actually seemed like she was into the show.

“Worth the future aiding and abetting charges?” Nestor asked as he watched you watch the dog.

You laughed, “Maybe. But if I get shitty tattoos in prison I’m blaming you.”

“We can get matching ones.”

You chuckled, “Alright. Deal.”

[terrence-silver]

Any Frank Wusharsky headcons with his beloved?

Watched beyond forgiveness again recently and the thought just popped into my head 👀

Much love 🤍

---

― Frank's protective. A family man at heart. Traditional. Big brother sibling energy galore. Selfless to the bone. He always figured he'd dedicate his life to ensuring all the members of his family are settled down, taken care of, healthy, safe, content and alright in the general sense before he'd ever even consider making himself happy for a change and forming a long lasting attachment with anyone and doing something for himself by finding love, because he was so busy and dedicated willingly and gladly ensuring everyone else around him is fine first and foremost, which means that his transition from an attentive son, to an attentive sibling to an attentive significant other is a smooth one. A natural one. A seamless one. Because, it is already in his character to care as much as he can (even going as far as over caring) that it is no big feat for him to care for another person more, even though he'd undoubtedly think of overblown reasons why he shouldn't reward himself with someone's love, because he's just so accustomed doing stuff for others.

― But, when he falls for his beloved, marriage and family is immediately all that he has on his mind. He wants to do right by beloved. Do everything accordingly, unable to function too long without genuine, serious commitment. He wants a big family all of his own, because that is a model he observed in his own upbringing and it is an ideal he covets and yearns to expand on deep down. He wants big dinners with beloved. Big celebrations. Big family gatherings. A big house. A table that is always full. Lots of children. Lots of laughter. Music. Dancing. All the customs of the Old Country passed down to his own kids. He wants beloved just as loved by his parents. His brother (before he's murdered), his sister-in-law and all his relations. He wants them to care for his beloved as much as he does and view them with the same kind, idealistic eyes because Frank legitimately thinks beloved is a dream come true, even though the dangers of his profession in law enforcement make him hesitant and have him genuinely fearing for beloved's safety at all times. What if they're taken from him? Like his brother ended up being? What if he loses another person he cherishes?

― As a result, he'd be fully willing to downright kill for you if even the slightest threat of harm came your way. Go on a rampage of revenge, especially after already traumatized by the above mentioned death of his brother, but even before it. To Frank, the people near and dear to him, his family, his close-knit circle, are his leaning rock. His whole life --- and even one of them falling into the very shadow of the mere prospect of hurt is reason enough to settle scores, no matter the cost, yes, meaning that there's pretty much no limit to what he'd do to protect his beloved. Fly half way across the world. Stand up against far stronger and more numerous enemies. Put himself in harm's way instead. Face mortal danger. It doesn't matter, he'd rather place himself in front of fatal outcomes than ever risk something happening to his beloved, such is the scope of his love and dedication. He'd entirely go as far talking beloved into leaving him, for their own good. Their own safety. Again, entirely selfless enough to where he'd be willing to bereft himself of love purely to ensure you're alright and not collateral damage in case his many enemies seek to retaliate upon him further. He'd never forgive himself if you were.

[mighty-ragnarssons]

Knocked Up | Modern Vikings AU | Chapter I

Relationships | Modern Ivar x OC Summary | Ivar always thought he'd be one of those people that never find the love of their lives. But then he found her - or, as the story goes, she bumped into him. He never saw it coming. Then he had to deal with it, and all the consequences that came along. Warnings | some smut, a little angst, harassement, teenage pregnancy

You can read in AO3 as well (click here). 

Chapter 1

There was no one in town that didn’t know about the Ragnarssons, the children of the famous Ragnar Lothbrok. They were fearless, they were reckless, and they were dangerous, just like their father. That’s what everybody said.

Bjorn was the eldest, the first-born of Ragnar’s first marriage with Lagertha. There had been a daughter too, Gyda, but she had passed away terribly young. After that, Ragnar had only sons born from his second marriage, this time with Aslaug. First came Ubbe, then Hvitserk and Sigurd. All of them perfectly healthy and strong boys that, much like Bjorn and to Ragnar’s amusement, took after their father in several ways. Unexpectedly and accidentally, however, there was a fifth child, the last son of Ragnar, Ivar. 

Ivar was very different from his brothers.

Born with a bone condition, he was crippled from the start. It was not just his legs that wouldn’t allow him to ever walk on his own, but a whole lot more pain coming from his frail bones that were never to be trusted. No wonder he grew up as a vulnerable, angry, and sad kid, despite being his mother’s favorite and most protected son. And now, as he was becoming a man, people called him mad and a drunk, a wild card with whom everyone rather stay away from. Ivar didn’t mind, he preferred to be tamed than to be pitied after a lifetime of being looked down on. In fact, he would do everything in his power to remain like this. It was the only way to prove himself and stay out of his brothers’ shadow and, most importantly, his father’s to who Ivar was the least favored son, something which hurt the boy more deeply than his constant physical pain.

“Hurry up, Ivar. Crawl faster, or else when we get to the club Ubbe and Hvitserk will have gotten all the best girls” Sigurd’s voice echoed loudly through the house. 

Ivar was there a second later clearly annoyed at his brother’s mocking tone. “Last time I checked, dear brother, you need me to drive you. So shut up. Let’s go.” 

Sigurd couldn’t argue back. He did need Ivar to drive them to the club. He kept failing at taking his driver’s license. It was humiliating to have to need his crippled brother to drive him, but Ubbe and Hvistserk, the bastards, hadn’t been home. Minutes afterward Ivar was behind the wheel of his accessible SUV and off they were.

Thirty minutes later they were skipping the line to get into the club. The Ragnarssons had their ways.  If there was one circuit in which their name was known by everyone, it was the nightlife one. No party would ever start without one of them being there. Ivar and Sigurd joined Ubbe and Hvisterk in the VIP area. As usual, Ivar took a corner where he knew he’d spend the next few hours drinking, smoking, and glaring at the dancing crowd. Perhaps if someone caught his eye he’d make a move, but usually, it was more like his brothers to do that.  

“There you go” Hvitzerk handed him a joint “Don’t look so serious, Ivar. The night is young. Enjoy!” By the looks of it, it was clear that he was already a bit high. But again it was Hvitserk and unusual would be to find him sober. “A lot of pretty ladies out there. Want me to pick one for you?” 

Ivar knew Hivtserk was only joking, but he still didn’t like it. His brother, ignoring Ivar’s cold glare and much to his annoyance, started pointing out to random girls who were dancing. “Oh, look at that one. C’mon Ivar, ain’t she a treat to stare at?”  

Thankfully, Hivtserk stopped his stupid game once their oldest brother Bjorn joined them, bringing shots to everyone with the help of his wife, Torvi.

“Brother, to what do we owe the honor?” Ivar said, throwing one of his ironic smirks. 

“I bring good news. Father is going to be released from jail sooner than expected. In three months to be exact! I had to pull some strings but it’s settled”

The news was received with different reactions. Sigurd didn’t seem that happy, while Ivar was the opposite. Ubbe was the first one to hold one of the shot glasses and started the toast “To Father! To Ragnar!”

Ragnar had been in prison for almost three years due to white-collar crimes, having been convicted of corporate fraud and money laundering. His sentence would’ve been of more than ten years, but Ragnar had his ways and was able to cut a deal for five years. And now, apparently, he would only serve almost four. Throughout this time it had been Bjorn taking over the leadership of the family’s successful business, Northmen Ventures, of which all of Ragnar’s sons had become the sole shareholders just before he was imprisoned. This explained why they were one of the richest families in their Norwegian city of Bergen. 

Bjorn,  now age 30, had been the natural successor of Ragnar. Not only because he was the oldest and perhaps the favorite son of Ragnar, but also because at the time he was the only one with a university degree, having just graduated from Law School. Yet, all of Ragnar’s sons were meant to get involved with the business. At least that was their father’s wish. Ubbe, now 24, had just graduated from Architecture School but had recently joined Bjorn on the company’s executive board.  Ivar wasn’t given the opportunity to help out, something which he grudged his older brothers - for dismissing him for his age, despite the fact that he’d watch and learned as much from his father as possible since an early age. Now 19 he was a freshman in college taking Business Administration. Then there were Hvitserk, 23, and Sigurd, 21,  the ones more adamant about following in their father’s footsteps. Hvitserk was using the money they were all getting to sustain his pricy bachelor lifestyle, and so was Sigurd who dedicated most of his time to art and music. Neither tried to pursue a higher education degree. 

“Don’t get too excited. Father will be back and then what? It’s not like he cares about us.” Sigurd, the mood killer, chugged his beer aggressively “He didn’t let us visit him in prison not even once. Not even Mother was allowed to. He didn’t even care for sending a postcard for Christmas!”

“He must have had his reasons.”

“And he left us the company”

“And so what? He just wanted to prevent it from ending up in the hands of the government.  Fuck him! You might all want to play the role of doting sons, but I’m not gonna tag along” After this Sigurd stormed off.

The remaining brothers looked at one another. A little bit of what Sigurd had just said resounsed with them, but at the same time they were excited to welcome back their father. Things would be very different with him around. 

“I say we celebrate.” Ivar said, not minding Sigurd. He couldn’t wait for his father to be back so that he could prove himself once and for all. He was no longer the defenseless crippled child he was when Ragnar went away. 

Despite the good mood he was in about Bjorn’s good news, Ivar wasn’t vibing with the club’s atmosphere that night. Hvitserk and Ubbe were making out with some random girls, Sigurd was nowhere to be seen and Torvi and Bjorn had left already. Instead, he was craving for some adrenaline and he knew just the way to get it. Texting his dealer, he left the club with the help of his crutches.

Nothing was to stop him except that on the way out someone bumped into him almost causing him to lose his fragile balance. Fury grew on Ivar who was about to yell at whoever made the mistake of infuriating him that night, but that’s when her face lost the blurriness of a few seconds ago and Ivar lost his balance again but for a completely different reason.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to...shit” 

“Bitch, get back! For the hundredth time, you’re not getting in!” 

The girl’s expression quickly turned one of desperation. “I told you I have to. My cousin needs help! Don’t stop me, please” Her words were towards the bouncer that was now pulling her back, but her pleading eyes were on Ivar as if asking for help.  

“Hey, let her go!”  Ivar didn’t know why, but his rage got up to new levels when he saw the bouncer getting his filthy hands on her. “I said back off. Take your fucking hands off of her.”

At Ivar’s command the bouncer let her go. It didn’t matter that he was a big muscle guy, Ivar took a step towards him and faced him with a cold death stare. 

“She’s coming in with me, do you understand?”

“Ragnarsson, she is a minor. I can’t let her in.”

“I’m not asking.” 

His tone set it. He nodded so that the girl got in the club ahead of him. She didn’t even say a word, going immediately in. Ivar had to hurry himself inside to catch up. 

“Fuck, there’s so many people” she noticed looking absolutely lost.

“Let me help you.” he offered. 

“The bathrooms. My cousin... she called me, she didn’t sound fine… I’m worried something’s happened... She said she couldn’t move” she was trembling as she spoke. Ivar reached her hand with his. 

“If she is here we are going to find her.” he assured her “Follow me” 

It was not typical of Ivar to help a lady in distress but as he was guiding this girl through the crowd of drunk dancing people he couldn’t understand the need he was abruptly feeling for shielding her and, worst of all, to comfort her. These feelings left him uneased, but he was not going to dwell into that right now. If his suspicions were right and her cousin was somewhere in the club, then she was probably drugged to the point of unconsciousness and in a position to be taken advantage of. 

They swiped all the bathrooms at the club until at last they burst into one where a girl was noticeably knocked down in a corner.

“Cathrine!” the girl immediately crouched down on her cousin. “Cathrine, can you hear me?” 

“All of you, get out” Ivar demanded the girls who were inside. Some tried to complain, after all he was the guy in a female bathroom. These same girls that had paid no attention, or they just didn’t care, to the other girl on the floor. He then went outside as fast as he could and got a water bottle.

“She’s awake, but barely. Says she 's dizzy. She’s not talking right” 

“She was likely drugged” It wouldn’t be a first in that club “Make her sip some water” he threw the water bottle at them. He really wanted to level down to them, but with his crutches and all it just wouldn’t go well. “I’m gonna find help.”

 He ‘raced’ to the VIP area. Only Hivtserk was there with a girl on top of him. What was wrong with his brothers for acting as if their corner was a place of public foreplay display?

“Hvitserk, I need your help!”

“Go away Ivar” he grumbled and continued to suggestively run his hands on the brunette over his lap.

Ivar had to take the matter into his hands. The first thing he found was a leftover cocktail on the table which he threw at the girl. Her immediate squeak was so high and audible despite the deafening music. She practically jumped from on top of his brother.

“You crazy motherfucker!”

“What the fuck Ivar?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Come with me. I need your help.” 

Usually he didn't have much faith in his brothers - after all they were a pain in his ass most of the time - but this time he was really hoping to call on Hvitserk’s good senses. Fortunately his prayers were answered and his older brother followed him back to the bathroom

“What’s going on?”

“There’s a passed out girl. We need to get her out of here.”

“Would you go so far as in to get laid, little brother? Oh, you sicko” 

“This is not the time for jokes, asshole. You’re the sicko for even suggesting that”

Ivar was almost regretting getting Hvitserk to help, but the truth was that he alone wouldn’t be able to carry the girl out from the bathroom. The moment they got in there Hvitserk got a bit more serious and kneeled next to the two girls. 

“Let’s get her out of here” 

Together with Hvitserk, the girl helped raise her semi-unconscious cousin. People inside the club were so fucked up that they didn’t drop one second to look at them leaving. 

“Take her to my car” Ivar indicated and so they did. He unlocked his metallic grey SUV from afar and went on to open the backdoors where they laid the girl. “Let her get some fresh hair. It will do her good.”

“Should we take her to the hospital?” Hvitserk suggested.

A loud “No!” came from the inside of the car.

“She can’t. It will be too complicated” said the other girl but not without hinting her dissatisfaction.

Ivar finally took a moment to fully look at her. Dressed  in just a pair of jeans and a warm sweatshirt, she was lean and tall, but at least a good ten centimeters shorter than himself. Her blonde hair was tied in a messy bun with some strands falling down on her face. He had to hold the instinct to gently brush those aside. And her eyes… They were a very greyish blue color like he had never seen before. They were mirroring worry and nervousness. 

“I’m calling a cab. Thank you for your help. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you” she said facing Ivar and Ivar only. 

“I can drive you.” he offered without thinking.

“We already bothered you enough -”

Ivar cut her off “Nonsense. I’m going to drive you” he declares in a way that offered no other option.

Relief poured from her gaze “Thank you”

It was quite the drive, further out of Bergen’s city center. By the time they got there the passed out girl - Cathrine - had regained consciousness, albeit feeling nauseous and dizzy. Hvitserk carried her alone in his arms to the inside of the house and further into her bed. It was time enough for her to fall asleep like a rock.

“She seems just to need some rest. Keep her hydrated when she wakes up.”

“If she was drugged then it should wear off her system soon”

“Noted. I don’t know how to thank you both” 

“You could go on a date with one of us, how does that sound?”

“Hvitserk!” Ivar admonished in reaction to the girl’s shocked expression “Please, ignore my brother. He, too, has drugs that need to wear off his system”

“You’re no fun, Ivar” Hvitserk couldn’t argue back on the drugs part. “A pleasure to help, milady. Until next time” He did a silly bow and left the apartment back to the car. 

“Is he always like that?” 

 “Most of the time, yeah.” Ivar shrugged his shoulders “Hand me your phone” Because she did without complaining, he got it and put his number in there “I’m Ivar Lothbrook. Whenever you need help.”

What he really wanted to say was ‘text me’. He didn’t have the nerve for that, tho.

For the first time that night she finally showed a glimpse of a smile “Honestly, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help, Ivar Lothbrok” 

Her hand was touching his and for a moment everything seemed to stop. The way his name sounded on her lips… A shiver went down his spine. He wanted to hear it again, but most importantly he wanted to know her name.

But in that exact moment a horn yelled. Goddamned Hvitserk. He was going to wake up the whole street, which was the opposite of what the girls had asked. “I better go drive him home now or else he’ll wake up the whole neighborhood” 

Yet Ivar was finding it difficult to leave. To leave her. Another honk made him take the necessary steps.

“I mean it when I say for you to use my number whenever. Stay safe”

He finally closed the door behind him and walked back to the car, but not before looking over his shoulder. There she was, by the window, waving goodbye with a shy smile on her face.

He needed to see her again.

The next morning Ivar woke up rather hopeful of seeing a text message. Seeing there was none, his day didn’t kick off exactly on the right terms. Throughout the day he checked his phone more times than he cared to admit and each time he grew impatient and irritated. What was it about that girl to make him like this? It’s not like he usually gave a crap about whoever he met.

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve got a right cob-on” his older brother Ubbe asked later that day when they were all chilling by the firepit  in the backyard of the Lothbrook’s home.

Although in Norway it was uncommon for people their age to still be living at home, in their case that’s how things were and worked out great most days. Usually it was just the four brothers and the house was  big enough for them not to be in each other’s ways.. Their mother, Aslaug Lothbrok, ran one the country’s finest art galleries. After her husband’s arrest she had moved her gallery to the capital city, Oslo, instead of their home city. Lately she spent most of her time there rather than at home. 

“It’s nothing. Leave me alone” 

“He’s hung up” teased Hvitserk “Still thinking about the pretty blondie from last night, brother?”

Right that moment Ivar wished he could smack the mocking smiles out of his brother’s faces. 

“Well, well, well Ivar. Didn’t know you had company last night.”

“He didn’t.  Not exactly. None of us did” Hvitserk proceed to put Ubbe on the loop in regards to their little episode last night. “Instead of asking her for her number, our little brother gave her his. Wrong move, dude.” Ivar immediately regretted telling this to Hvitserk. “Don’t be so bummed out, Ivar. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Speaking of…”

A blonde Ivar doesn’t care much about exits their home in Sigurd’s company, both appearing content which can only mean one thing. Margrethe is a constant guest at the Lothbrok’s and probably the only female with the fame of being acquainted with all of the brothers’ rooms. Although a favorite among the Ragnarssons, to Ivar she’s nothing but an unpleasant company he is forced to tolerate after they fall out months ago. 

“If that’s the fish you’re hinting at, I’d rather go vegan” Ivar mumbled under his breath.

I hope you liked it! It’s my first Vikings fic :) Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language. At least five more chapters will be on the way.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

NSFW Alphabet [Trafalgar Law] Complete Set

·         A = Aftercare

Law will insist you clean-up and go to the bathroom to prevent infections. Exhausted? You are, but he’s a doctor. And he knows what’s best for his S/O. As tedious and uncomfortable as it is to move – let’s face it, he just screwed your brains out – he will order you out of bed to do this task, but he too has to clean up, so he will do most of it for you and for himself as you happily lean against him.

Once he’s done, he’ll lead you back to the bed and tuck you in. Sometimes he’ll crash with you, but most of the time he has work to do and will make sure you’re contented before he leaves you; getting you some water to drink for example. He is a captain after all, but you know this.

·         B = Body part

His favorite part is of course his hands, and for you it’s the same. He finds enjoyment in the fact he can make you come so undone with just a push of a finger. The avid way your body takes him is a turn on and he takes great pride in hearing you beg for more – men and their pride, right? The inked letters on his fingers look so delicious as they sink into you; he almost can’t believe how perfect this feels and how warm you are.

You love his hands, not for the same reason, but because he’s gentle and considerably skilled with them; the tattoos are a bonus, because damn do you worship them. Whether he’s performing surgery or using his hands to activate his Devil Fruit, it’s a major turn on for you. Of course, there are other parts of Law you adore too – his sharp eyes and taunting mouth – but overall, his hands turn you on the most.  

·         C = Cum

Law doesn’t understand your fascination with his cum – it’s a mess to clean – but he doesn’t mind covering your face or filling your mouth if you ask. It’s warm and tastes decent, because he eats well, and you love it. He can’t deny how good it makes him feel to see you so worked up over something he considers irrelevant – he doesn’t plan to have kids with his profession; too dangerous. But if you love it, then good for you. Just don’t ask him to cum inside you. Nope!

“Cum can reduce wrinkles and smooth the skin.”

Why does he bothering arguing with you?

·         D = Dirty Secret

Law won’t admit it, or bring it up, due to it being so embarrassing, but he’s often fantasized about what it would be like to cut you apart with his Devil Fruit ability and fuck you senseless. He’s not even sure it can be done, but dreaming about your detached head watching him as he screws your body turns him on. Won’t happen though, because he’s too much of a prude to suggest it.

·         E = Experience

He may be a doctor; an expert on anatomy, but Law doesn’t have much experience with sex. The first time he had sex, it was based off instinct alone. Fill the hole, right? Can’t be too hard. It was … all right, he reckoned.

You made it better. He learned what made you come undone, and even learned a few things about himself. This didn’t turn him into a slut, but he began to enjoy it more. There’s still a lot he has to learn, but he knows more than before.  

·         F = Favorite position

Missionary, obviously. He doesn’t know much else, but on occasion, Law will let you ride him. This is better achieved in his desk chair, as you have no choice but to be on top. He doesn’t like not being in charge and he has no problem reminding you.

“Let me ride you. Sit down.”

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t order me around. You won’t leave this bed for a week.”

·         G = Goofy

Not likely, Sunshine. Law is a serious character. You’ve only seen him act out of character around Kid or Luffy – something about these two brings out the dweeb in him; testosterone, you assume. Not much changes in bed. He’s a bit more domineering, ordering that you get on your knees, and sometimes you think he’s a bit of a sadist; he makes you beg quite a bit before he fucks you.

Afterwards, he’s rather gentle with you. He’s a doctor, remember?  

·         H = Hair

Pirates seldom groom or bathe for that matter, but Law manages to find time to freshen up when he can. Hygiene is important to him; he’s the sub’s only doctor. He changes outfits frequently and trims his goatee and sideburns – pubic hairs too; black as the hair on his head – when they grow out of control.    

·         I = Intimacy

Depends on him. He’s a calm and collected man; things don’t normally bother him unless his plans are ruined or he’s around Kid and Luffy. This being said, he’s eager to please you; he’ll give you sweet kisses and such. But, if he’s annoyed and in the mood, you can expect some sore muscles and a lot of orgasms.

“Remind me to thank Kid later. Or punch him in the face.”

·         J = Jack Off

Law has you, but not all the time can he just stop what he’s doing and find you, so he has to use his hand. Trust me, he imagines fucking you; can even hear your voice as you beg and praise him. Masturbating isn’t as pleasing, but it works for him.    

·         K = Kink

Begging and orgasm control; Law is a simple man.

·         L = Location

His room mostly, but Law will sometimes lead you to the operation room on the Polar Tang and wreck you on the operation table. But there was that one time on the Sunny.

·         M = Motivation

Your devotion and suggestive nature motivate him; the subtle and eager method you use to instigate sex does the trick, but sometimes Law is just aroused. Your body is great, but just being near you turns him on; he’s just too stubborn to tell you.

·         N = NO

Harming you is never something he’d agree to – as well as shooting his cum into you. Golden showers are also a no; it’s nasty and he’d never agree to it.

·         O = Oral

He prefers to receive rather than give, because he’s not too skilled in oral. However, he will make an attempt if you ask. You’re vocal during sex and if given oral, you tend to guide him when he’s falling short of expectation. Law doesn’t like this much – due to hating orders – but he does it for you.

“I don’t mind at all not receiving; I happen to like your cock.”

·         P = Pace

Slow at first, because he likes to draw out your moans and make you beg for more, and once you do, his pace quickens until your breathless and horsed. You have mentioned before how the first hard thrust drives you insane, so sometimes Law shoves his cock into you roughly; damn do you tighten around him when he does this.

·         Q = Quickie

Sometimes quickies are all either of you have time for. Law doesn’t openly ask for them, but he will motion away from the crew when he’s in the mood and fuck you against the wall or in a secluded room inside the sub.

·         R = Risk

Unless it’s agreed on or planned out, he won’t risk it. He’s a simple lover, so there’s not a lot he’d be eager to try unless you mention it first. The process is too lengthy at times; consequence and plans to prevent either of you from getting hurt.

·         S = Stamina

Law can fuck, but he needs breaks. His stamina is average. You don’t mind, however, because during this down time he’s gentle and intimate with you.

·         T = Toy

Not gonna happen. Why? Because he doesn’t have time for foreplay; perhaps once he finds the One Piece. Sex toys are also not the easiest items to come across – more elusive than Devil Fruits.

·         U = Unfair

Besides making you beg for him; Law can be unfair at times. He’s a tool so sometimes – quickies generally – he gets off and doesn’t do the same for you. Now when he has time, Law will make it up to you; he’s not a complete asshole. He just doesn’t know how to manage his time well.

·         V = Volume

The occasional curse and grunt are about the only noises he will make, other than urging you to beg for him. You make enough noise for the both of you.

·         W = Wild Card

He likes to see you in his clothes; his yellow hoodie looks good on you, but he’s extremely greedy and won’t let you wear them in front of others. His hat is another story; not in a million years. It’s his and he’s not sharing.

·         X = X-Ray

Law is average. It’s skinner than most you’ve seen, but you don’t mind; he’s a thin man.

·         Y = Yearning

You yearn for sex more than Law, but sometimes he needs a release. He’s a busy man and sex is usually the last thing on his mind.

·         Z = ZZZ

Law is an insomniac – look at the shadows under his eyes.  He’s much too busy to sleep and even after sex he returns to his role as captain and doctor of the Heart Pirates. You have to sometimes convince him to come to bed, and sometimes he will.

[ohshcscenerios]

For @falling-pages because the unknown can be scary.

Tamaki heaved the last cardboard box on the moving truck's edge, pushing it further with a pained grunt until the taped sides weren't teasing the edge anymore. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and leaned against the truck's metal frame to catch a breath. He and Kyoya had focused their afternoon on moving the last of their boxes. They had left the heaviest for last, a decision that didn't age well now that Tamaki's arms wanted to fall off from exhaustion.

Kyoya left the shadows from within the trailer and lowered himself to jump down. He wanted to be sure their belongings wouldn't slide around as they drove across the city. The last thing he needed was Tamaki crying over a broken picture frame.

"That was the last box," Tamaki announced, still a little breathless form his monotonous labor.

Kyoya nodded and took one last look into the truck before leaning around the corner and signaling for the driver to lower the door.

"Alright," Kyoya said, wiping his hands on his dark denim jeans, "we should be ready to go in a few minutes."

"Wait," Tamaki suddenly yelped, turning to their ground apartment and running for the front door, "I forgot something!" He explained over his shoulder as he walked inside and closed the door behind him.

Kyoya rolled his eyes, figuring he forgot to check all of his secret hiding places he so conveniently created while they lived together, but when he glanced through the window, past the white linen curtains fluttering against the passing breeze, he saw Tamaki simply standing in the kitchen's archway.

"Tamaki?" Kyoya asked as he peered around the front door. Tamaki's back was turned to him as he made no sound or acknowledgement that his name was just said.

Kyoya approached ready to drag him to the truck's front seat where they should be anyway. The drivers were being paid by the hour and although they didn't mind waiting Kyoya's wallet did.

But when he came close enough he noticed his husband's shoulders shaking ever so slightly while his head hung, as if in mourning.

"Tama-"

"I know we have to move, so you're closer to your work, but I'm not ready to say goodbye yet." Sadness swept through his voice, bringing his normally cheerful demeanor more serious and solemn.

Kyoya sighed and let his body hit the wall as he relaxed into in, crossing his arms, "I know. I'm sorry."

Tamaki wiped his eyes and pointed to the kitchen's stove, more specifically the upper left burner with a blackened char on its right side - something the landlord was kind enough to ignore if they didn't ask for their security deposit back. "Remember when we tried to make spaghetti e'aglio and we accidentally poured too much wine and caught the stove on fire?"

Kyoya resisted the urge to snarl, "How could I? We lost a $300 deposit because of it."

Tamaki sniffled, allowing a small smile to turn his saddened lips, "But it's a memory. One we made together. In this apartment. One of many..."

Kyoya could understand why Tamaki felt so attached to this apartment. It was the first place they were able to call home - together. Kyoya's father didn't approve of their marriage and wouldn't let them stay on the Ootori Estate. As much as Fuyumi felt for them her husband didn't want to anger his father in law - in good reason - so they were left with finding a place of their own.

Finding this apartment was their first step in living their lives together, being a married couple, happily being in love and not being ashamed for what they felt within themselves or for each other. Within these walls they weren't the disgraceful Ootori and Suoh sons but Kyoya and Tamaki, happily in love and unashamed.

The memories they made in this apartment were memories engrained in their marriage, their lives, their story.

This apartment was just door G4, it was their happily ever after.

Kyoya pulled Tamaki's back into his embrace and buried his nose into his neck, kissing his shoulder and squeezing him tighter.

"We'll make so many more memories Tamaki. We're moving into a condo, imagine what sort of memories we'll make there."

Tamaki chortled, "You're right... I know you're right..." He turned around, his eyes red and cheeks stained with tears but a smile filled with uncertain hope, spread wide with the uneasy happiness that comes with letting go of something good to reach for something better, "Let's go."