it's like it just dawned on him who what when where and why he exists

100 Harry Potter Prompts: Part 1

This list is #$@&%*! amazing, amigos! Thanks for all the submissions. Here is part 1:

  1. Parseltongues aren’t the only ones who can talk to certain animals; There are a number of hereditary abilities that allow wizards to understand and communicate with other species. You are a young wizard who can understand birds, and it is driving you CRAZY.
  2. 10 years later, on the day of the battle of Hogwarts. George is standing in front of the mirror, looking himself in the eyes, wishing that his reflection was someone else.
  3. Harry Potter prompt: The Basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets is back! …but now it’s the size of a thread snake.
  4. A muggle angered by the fact that there are only 10 dragons in this world and 7 of them are European, sets off to find more dragons.
  5. Your entire family is full of Hufflepuffs, so during your sorting you begged the Sorting Hat to place you there. Now you’re older and definitely a Slytherin and you need to hide it.
  6. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes has an adult section in the back.
  7. after Ron picks up the wrong hairs for a polyjuice potion Hermione is making, the two find themselves in each other’s bodies.
  8. You are the new heir of Slytherin, capable of opening the Chamber of Secrets and talking to snakes. On your first visit you find the monster dead. Not that you care, you never hated muggles anyway. Instead you start giving guided tours, charging a couple of Sickles for each tour, trying your best not to make the teachers notice.
  9. You’re a muggle born sorted into Slytherin of all places. The other students warn you that the Bloody Baron hates muggles, but to your surprise, the ghost has somewhat of a different view on muggleborns like you…
  10. Harry DOES get sorted into Slytherin when he asks not to be and becomes best friends with Draco as well.
  11. No one knew Voldemort was the last line of defence against them. Now he’s gone, and they are coming.
  12. Many years after the Dark Lord Voldemort was killed, a new dark lord has come. He’s part of the ministry and the new candidate for minister of magic..
  13. When Harry Potter dies in his first year at Hogwarts, Hermoine Granger takes on the duty of defeating the dark lord and succeeds in her task in the second year. The wizarding world is safe once again. Describe how she managed this.
  14. Write about Hermiones struggles and success as Minister of Magic.
  15. The dementors may suck the souls out of their victims with their kiss, but what happens to the soul after that?
  16. As a young gifted wizard, Sirius Black once found the Mirror of Erised; but what did he see as he glanced upon its glass?
  17. Hagrid comes every year to celebrate Harry’s birthday
  18. Harry never got a letter. He goes through his day to day life as a muggle, never noticing obnoxiously weird things around him. Write a day in the life of harry the muggle
  19. You’re invited to Tom riddle’s 6th birthday party
  20. Magical patronuses are extremely rare. It’s said that only the pure or the purely evil can conjure them. You’re a Slytherin trying to prove what they say about Slytherins is wrong. In Defence against dark arts, you just found out your patronus is a Hungarian horntail.
  21. “Don’t worry, Potter,” said the Dark Lord, “killing will get easier. And as my right hand man, you’ll need to get used to it.”
  22. Au where Snape is the chosen one and Harry is the Potions master
  23. In second year, Draco writes in the diary of Tom Riddle instead, and gets some pretty sound advice.
  24. “You went to school for seven years and THIS is what you use your skills on? Just- Just tell us why THIS branch of Animagi…?”
  25. Harry’s a girl, and has to deal with all the Voldemort shit when she has cramps so she’s extra pissed off.
  26. The Nimbus 3000 just came out, you are one galleon short but you desperately want it, how will you get your hands on the new broom?
  27. You somehow stumble into Filch’s office and grab the nearest artifact before you escape.
  28. Both Harry and Neville are the ‘chosen ones’. Only together are they able to defeat the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, everyone thinks only Harry is the ‘chosen one’. Follow Neville and co. as they discover the truth.
  29. Divination has a new muggle-born teacher, who seems more intent on teaching useful life lessons than magic.
  30. “You’re a wizard, Hermione.”
  31. “How many times have I told you to leave your dragons in Romania?!”
  32. “You’re a wizard, Harry.” “No shit!”
  33. All the Harry Potter character have switch roles, so that the heroes are now the villains. Who’s who and what happens?
  34. Mcgonagall, after noticing Harry’s letter is being ignored, goes to the Dursleys to check on the young wizard.
  35. Harry wonders what the fuck kinda school this is when Dumbledore says “ The third floor corridor is out of bounds for anyone that doesn’t want to die a most painful death.”
  36. Hermione Granger is one of those kids who is in classes meant for those a few years older than her, she is a genius.
  37. You are a muggle, yet direct magic doesn’t affect you, you wander into Hogwarts, you are not harmed by the shriek of mandrake plants, a basilisk cannot petrify you, magical devices break at your touch. you are a magic null.
  38. You thought you’d made a simple mistake in potions. As you sit outside the headmaster’s office, straining to hear the grave conversation from behind the door, it dawns on you that your error couldn’t have been as simple as it seemed.
  39. Harry goes on a journey of self-love by hiking around an Arby’s parking lot at 2am.
  40. The series is entirely the same but Voldemort and Snape have swapped noses .
  41. A day in the life of Dobby.
  42. Lucius is sacrificed by Voldemort and dies in the Wizarding War leaving pregnant Narcissa disillusioned and scared. She seeks help from Dumbledore and becomes a double agent.
  43. “Hmm, courage… yes… plenty of intelligence too! Very loyal… but crafty… hmm. Tricky, very tricky. I’m sorry, but you don’t seem to belong in any specific house. Better be… HOGWARTS!!!”
  44. Harry and Ron/Hermione and Ginny become the canon ships.
  45. Hermione and Ron visit America for a family vacation. Write about their adventures.
  46. Sassy harry calling Snape and Dumbledore out on their bullshit   24/7.
  47. Ravenclaws have a chamber of secrets, but it’s just a library of infinite knowledge too nerdy to touch.
  48. Post-apocalyptic Draco and Harry, where Draco needs the help of Harry in order for both of them to survive.
  49. You thought you were a muggle-born witch/wizard and then you find one of your long before ancestors in the portraits of the school’s corridors.
  50. You can do magic without a wand. You are the second most wanted after Voldemort.
  51. Disco balls and disco and lgbt folks at Hogwarts
  52. A student is accepted into Hogwarts only to find out it was a mistake and they don’t actually have any magical abilities. Tell their story of trying to make it through Hogwarts after all these years.
  53. Remus Lupin adopts Harry.  He never lived with the Dursleys. Tell us his happy Wizarding Childhood.
  54. You’re a historian writing a critical paper on The Battle Of Hogwarts. You believe the existing discourse has ignored the significance of one woman: Mrs Norris. Write a paper discussing her much-maligned role in the Battle of Hogwarts.
  55. A story about the lonely, never-useful life of Snape’s shampoo bottle.
  56. Rumour has it the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher has already arrived and is hiding. Whoever finds them gets 500 points for their house.
  57. write the wizarding sex ed pamphlet that gets handed out to fifth years.
  58. everything’s the same except every character is a lizard.
  59. Describe the three trials in the next Triwizard Tournament.
  60. “Nobody knew about the fifth Hogwarts founder, and the secret they hid in the castle… until now”
  61. Minerva McGonagall is quite puzzled by Dumbledore’s recent hires for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and would like to have a serious talk with him about it.
  62. You decide to try flying on a broom just for shits and giggles. It works, and now you need help. A lot of help.
  63. The previous magical protection of the prime minister has been retired. You have taken their place.
  64. The Wizarding World decided it’s time to explore space.
  65. Doleres Umbridge is now the head teacher of Hogwarts and president Snow form panel is the minister for magic. They have reinvented the triwizard tournament to have aspects of the hunger games. Tell the story of this year’s tributes.
  66. “When I wished to be part of the world of Harry Potter, I was hoping for an acceptance letter to Hogwarts, not for the bridge I was crossing to be demolished by death eaters on my way home from work!”
  67. You are a squib from a long line of witches and wizards who has never made any contact with the Muggle world. Today is your first day of high school.
  68. Hermione blinked. “You’re right, Ron. I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”
  69. Through a series of events, you land yourself in the world of Harry Potter. The catch? You’ve never read a word from the books and have absolutely no clue what’s going on.
  70. The entire series but everyone is emo as hell.
  71. You are Harry Potter’s less famous twin sibling. All you want is a quiet wizarding school life.
  72. Write the science behind magic.
  73. You are in the infamous library where no books have titles. Somehow, you pick up Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. You want to help in any way you can.
  74. “The wand chooses the wizard” except this time three have chosen the same master. And they’re attempting to duel each other.
  75. Re-write one of the quidditch chapters from the perspective of the snitch.
  76. Harry being raised by Sirius and Remus because they actually caught Wormtail
  77. Dumbledore reads My Immortal and thinks it’s really good.
  78. “The Death Eaters stole this from the Muggles. What is it, Hermione?” “Ron, I…I think it’s a Nuke.”  "WICKED! Dad’s gonna love this!“
  79. Draco and Ron get in a wizard’s fight; Harry has to reveal his love for Draco by protecting him.
  80. While looking through Filch’s files of rescinded objects, you find something extremely dangerous. Just as you put it in your pocket for later investigation, you get caught by Peeves the poltergeist.
  81. A deaf Ravenclaw, a disabled Slytherin, a mute Gryffindor, and a black trans Hufflepuff help together to cope with each other’s’ problems.
  82. You’ve just received a Howler in front of the whole school. What does it say and how does the school react?
  83. A very derpy Dementor who doesn’t even try and suck souls, but just wants to be friends with everyone and gets sad easily so everyone has to cheer it up.
  84. As it turns out, Neville is the strongest wizard of all.
  85. Write a love story about Dumbledore and Grindelwald.
  86. Your boggart and your reflection in the Mirror of Erised show the same thing.
  87. Who maintains the enchanted ceiling at Hogwarts? How did they get the job and what’s their life like?
  88. Finally, Hogwarts gets its Wi-Fi hotspot.
  89. After a traumatising first year at Hogwarts, Ginny Weasley has to learn to deal with the long-term psychological effects of having been possessed by a dark wizard.
  90. Someone didn’t focus enough when trying to apparate somewhere and somehow wound up on Mars.
  91. You show someone the Mirror of Erised for the first time. You ask what they see, and they just look at you strangely. “What? Did you forget how mirrors work? I just see us.”
  92. A story written from the perspective of a student who died in the battle of Hogwarts, and is now a ghost there.
  93. Hogwarts wants to open a school in another part of the world.
  94. It’s been a hundred years, or so, and you’re still stuck in this dusty, shabby place. As a wand, it would be nice if you could finally choose the perfect wizard to wield you.
  95. You hide pictures of Voldemort in most  unusual places to freak other students out
  96. AU where all spells are imaginary. They’re basically running around with sticks yelling nonsense.
  97. The DA learned their most important lesson from Hermione - always bring a gun to a wand fight.
  98. Write about the day the magical world discovered internet (and proceeded to make their own WizNet)
  99. Harry Potter where Harry’s dad survived but is left emotionally destroyed by Voldemort’s attack.
  100. Harry Potter lowers his wand at himself. He swore he would rid the world of Horcruxes. He was about to make good on that promise.

 Let’s make a new list right away. Do you have a prompt for us?

tagulansahulyo  asked:

Hello! Please, I love good pining stories. I especially love it when it's Viktor who does it, too. Could you please recommend deliciously painful pining stories but with good endings? :)

Thanks for the requests! Mutual pining fics are my some of my favourites! Here is a TON of mutual pining fics because why not? They’re amazing!

Originally posted by sovlfighter


Mutual Pining


Break the Cycle by SigmundFreud, Explicit, 26k
College AU where ex boyfriends Yuuri and Victor can’t stay away from each other. LOTS of mutual pining, arguments, miscommunication, and, of course, angst. Thumbs up!

a certain playboy by fan_nerd, Gen, 3.9k
There’s no way that Victor, Yuuri’s childhood idol, could be calling Yuuri a handsome playboy, just because they’d met eyes at two skating events. Besides, a total stranger had given Yuuri the tickets. It would be totally absurd. Love!

On My Love by RikoJasmine, Teen, 48k (WIP)
Time travel AU where Yuuri and Victor are happy aged and married, but an accident occurs and suddenly Yuuri wakes up back in Detroit, in a time before he had even met Victor. Angst and pining ensues. Great fic!

of dusk and dawn and a love beyond by exile_wrath, Gen, 5.5k
The King of Day, Victor, drops flowers to the Ruler of Night, Yuuri, to express his love for him; yet, they are always returned, as Yuuri thinks that they’re dropped by mistake. Day and Night AU!

Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches by Reiya, Explicit, 166k (WIP)
The ULTIMATE angst fic filled with all the pining, miscommunications, and more. Rival AU where Yuuri’s life goal, since he was a child, is to beat Victor and win the GPF. HOT and a must read.

lie to make me like you by cityboys, Mature, 80k
It’s become a game, of sorts, to anyone privy to the fact that the pattern exists in the first place: ask Victor out at the beginning of the month, date for however many days, and wait for the end to come and for Victor to say, always: I couldn’t fall in love with you. Let’s break up. OMG so good!

On Cruelty and Confusion by Torchlite, Teen, 6.8k (WIP)
The timers show three sets of numbers: the wearer’s heart rate, their soulmate’s heart rate, and the number of heartbeats until they see each other in person. Viktor’s timer goes off the moment he lays eyes on Yuuri. Yuuri’s does not. Great soulmate timer AU!

Kingdoms of the Sun and Moon by OathKeeper, Explicit, 12k (WIP)
Yuuri is the Prince and Heir to the throne of the Sun Kingdom. Before his twentieth birthday, he is due to marry Princess Mila from the Moon Kingdom, to whom he’s been engaged since childhood. Victor comes along and everything gets flipped upside down. THIS FIC IS AMAZING PLEASE ENCOURAGE THE AUTHOR TO WRITE MORE IT’S SO GOOD

Sky of Endless Love by CagedBirdSings, Gen, 3.2k (WIP)
In a Realm far above the Earth, the King of Day leaves behind roses of vivid red - all in the hopes of having his feelings reach the King of Night. Meanwhile, Yuuri wonders why Victor keeps dropping his roses. I love this AU!!

Nerve Endings by Phyona, Explicit, 42k (WIP)
When Yuuri moves in with Victor in St. Petersburg, they have to work through Yuuri’s anxiety and Victor’s secretiveness to find their balance. THIS IS SO, SO AMAZING

Like a Fairytale by lucycamui, Teen, 30k (WIP)
In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his ‘Cinderella’ Yuuri. Lovely Cinderella AU!

Healthy Impropriety by mtothedestiel, Explicit, 29k
Victor is the wealthy master of the Nikiforov estate. At a society party he’s swept off his feet by the mysterious, suave, and very drunk Katsuki Yuuri. Victor aims to declare his love and secure Mr. Katsuki’s hand in marriage, but first he has to find him! THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVE FICS EVER

Lessons in Love by fangirlandiknowit, Mature, 21k (WIP)
All Viktor wants is for his son to be happy - and if that means spending countless hours at the ice rink, a million more in the ballet studio, and devotedly cheering for Katsuki Yuuri at every competition he enters, then that is precisely what he’ll do. LOVE!

Everything on Fire by SakanatoAi, Teen, 28k (WIP)
In an alternate universe where the physical closeness between two soulmates is measured by body temperature, Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov have spent their entire lives chasing after fleeting moments of warmth. Awesome soulmate AU!

Masks off by emulikule, Teen, 27k
And so the story goes that a playboy comes to a town, makes it fall in love with him and then proceeds to get himself enticed by the most mysterious person there. SO GOOD OMG

Chocolate and Ice | Yuri!!! on Ice by TheLoyalMouse, Explicit, 2k
Victor wants to touch him so badly - but how can he, if it means it would taint the most perfect, innocent and pure human being he ever met? Surely, Yuri’s heart is not for him to take… Bonus Victor POV!

Dancing Daffodils by grayclouds, Mature, 33k (WIP)
Greek God AU where Yuuri is the god of Eros who falls for Victor, a man secluded/banished from the rest of society. Very sweet, and the mix of Greek mythology and YOI works amazingly well. Definitely recommend!

Looking for Courage by icterine, Explicit, 17k
Victor’s soul rejoices with their meeting. A fleeting attempt to steady a drunken stranger sets his heart afire. It’s all he’s ever dared to wish for. LOVE!

centripetal force by braveten, Explicit, 60k (WIP)
Victor speaks seven languages. (Physics isn’t one of them.) Luckily, though, he ends up rooming with his antithesis: a shy, black-haired boy who just so happens to be a physics major. LOVE this!

Analysis: Romance in One Piece

Note: I’ll be posting condensed versions of this analysis in other sites

A) Relevance of plot and characterization AKA Unbiased Readers Vs. Delusional Shippers

“Who lives on ilusions dies from disappointment” – An old Puerto Rican saying

Most of us know One Piece is a very popular manga. Its high quality and popularity depends on several factors, among them we could name memorable and likeable characters along a deep, compelling, fun and action-packed story. The One Piece many know and love wouldn’t exist without the balance between these factors

When talking to at least 3 different One Piece fans, each of them non-shippers who analyzed the manga they all enjoy, I found interesting and pretty sound perspectives of the One Piece story and its nature. All of them value characters, story, development, consistency and logic; something I can totally relate to

But I also found a pattern; these 3 guys shared one single outlook on the very same subject: shipping. Regardless of their expectations, all of them expressed distate for shippers’ general mindset and “odd” viewpoint:

One of them called shippers out for ignoring characterization and very clear and direct statements made in the manga. His attention was centered on a Luffy pairing and how it contradicts his own character. Oda once explained that he writes Luffy as someone pretty straightfoward when it comes to expressing his thoughts and feelings, and this non-shipper said with brutal honesty that for the discussed ship to happen we would need to disregard and/or discard the very core of Luffy’s character. Meaning Oda would need to stop being consistent and faithful to his own story and characters

The next one explained how shippers tend to turn a characters’ relationship into a sappy teen love fantasy that doesn’t match One Piece at all. His analysis also exposed how integrating this kind of underdeveloped “love” into the story would severely damage One Piece originality, ruin the series and needless to say destroy the likable dynamics between several characters as well as their own development. This fantasy, this so-called “love”, is what the vast majority of shippers support and defend. The same kind of “love” most non-shippers, fans and critics dread

The third non-shipper gave me a more detailed explanation: this is even more rough than the other two as he describes that the common shipper mentality of “he/she likes her/him so they should be together” can “only be likened to that of elementary schoolers”. And how shippers take every little meaningless detail and blow it out of proportion with no regard for context, legitimate bonding or the canon story!

But we can’t put all the blame on shippers. Many manga authors seem to have no idea how to write a character-driven series or complex character relationships. In fact, mainstream shonen writers have their fair share of guilt into promoting this common shipping mindset by being notoriously bad at writing romance. Which results in underveloped premises that leave your average fan skeptical, and your average critic disappointed at a poor portrayal of emotional bonding and a severe lack of cohesive narrative in the “romantic love” department

This is the reason why many fans, critics and non-shippers hold the shippers’ perspective in a very low regard. Just like the third non-shipper states: “The blushing, longing stares, corny ass lines etc. That kind of poorly portrayed romance is the kind of thing dreaded by the average fan because it reduces the quality of One Piece to the level of such poorly written series”

So an author needs to build a relationship the same way one person would construct a building: stablishing a strong foundation on companionship, respect, trust, signifcant moments, and emotional bonding. All of this must come before reaching the status of “romantic interest". In relation to this subject, there’s a trope called “First Girl Wins”, a portion of its description truly fits this criteria:

“From a [extradiegetic] point of view, the Law of Conservation of Detail suggests introducing the Love Interest early. An early introduction allows you to get the audience interested in her and rooting for her, gives you space for Character Development, and gives her relationship with her (eventual) partner the most time to develop organically. And with all that said, it’s such a common device that in all likelihood, it sometimes gets played for its own sake.” – tvtropes.org, 2017

Notice this isn’t a cliché, this is a literary device to enhance the story. Pairing up two characters without meaningful moments, emotional build-up and development, is the equivalent to lazy writing. Having such elements firmly stablished for two characters and then deciding to go for a different “route”, pretty much wasting a well-developed relationship for the sake of a “weaker” premise, would be the equivalent to bad writing

Is Oda, the man who’s willing to die for One Piece, a lazy writer? Of course not! Is he, a man who planned the ending years ago and is still sticking to said ending, a bad writer? Being number 1 in Japan and having such a loyal fanbase all around the world prove he’s not!

Do shippers want Oda to be a lazy/bad writer? Facts already answered this question as many (although not all) fans value their own fantasies and delusions over the manga canon and/or the author’s take on the characters and their relationships

Many (but not all) shippers now have a war. Not only against rival ships but mainly against One Piece story and consistent development. Yet as the old saying goes, those who live on delusions will have to eventually face reality and disappointment, because Oda is not a lazy/bad writer like some people here would want him to be

B) Romance Dawn AKA The not so secret origins of One Piece

“If we don’t know where we are going, it can be helpful to know where we come from” – Jostein Gaarder

When debating posible outcomes, fans rarely look back at the time when One Piecewas a still a work in progress. Taking a look at Romance Dawn V.1 and Romance Dawn V.2 helps us to see there are constants present in all versions of these Works that made it into what would later become the most popular manga in Japan

But before discussing those constants I would like to clarify the meaning of the word: “Romance”. There are people who doesn’t really grasp the concept of “Romance” both One Piece and Oda work with. Luckily the first two non-shippers I meantioned shed some light on this subject:

Romance:

“A mysterious or fascinating quality or appeal, as of something adventurous, heroic, or strangely beautiful
“A long fictitious tale of heroes and extraordinary or mysterious events, usually set in a distant time or place”
“A narrative in verse or prose, written in a vernacular language in the Middle Ages, dealing with strange and exciting adventures of chivalrous heroes

– thefreedictionary.com, 2016

“A prose narrative treating imaginary characters involved in events remote in time or place and usually heroic, adventurous, or mysterious
–  Merriam Webster, 2016

Romantic:

“Marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized
“Having an inclination for romance: responsive to the appeal of what is idealized, heroic, or adventurous

–  Merriam Webster, 2016

These definitions match pretty well One Piece and Oda outlook on this concept. Even Oda lampshaped this by giving his own translation to the title: 冒険の夜明け (“Bōken no Yoake”, “Dawn of the Adventure”)

So Oda’s “romance” covers a wide variety of themes: Adventure, heroism, mystery, virtue, idealism… we can find comedy and tragedy, happiness and sadness. And among the virtues and the idealism we find companionship and love. As the second non-shipper I mentioned explained One Piece is pretty much like an “Adventure novel”, which is why we’ll find in One Piece many of the tropes commonly used in those books

Among those tropes, we find a couple of constants in all versions of “Romance Dawn”

The golden-hearted protagonist and the “First Girl” who doubles as a female lead. Think about this “what if” scenario: If things would’ve played different back then and One Piece never went beyond “Romance Dawn V.1”. If that story were to be elaborated futher, which two characters would had shared the most moments to become endgame? The answer is pretty simple: The golden-hearted protagonist and the female lead!

But when debating, the weight of the argument depends on edvidence so we need to rely on what we can confirm. And we confirm this, what’s the constant in Luffy’s story in all versions of Romance Dawn? a Nami-like character

This becomes even more interesting when we discover that at an interview at “Manga no Chikara” and others, Nami was supposed to be the first one to join Luffy but her debut was postponed by Oda’s editor at that time. Edvidence of this being a last minute decision remains on the first color cover:

Yet as the second non-shipper noted: “her role as secondary protagonist was not altered” for “Nami shares with Luffy the largest character development in the entire series”. And as explained here we already know how the trope goes when someone seeks to write a natural growth for an emotional connection between two characters 

In fact, the relevance of Nami to Luffy’s story is implied in what Oda himself said about Strong World: “I really wanted to make a ‘hero saves the heroine’ story (ヒロインを助けるヒーローを描きたい the japanese sentence). [….]. You might think otherwise, but I had no intention of bringing in someone new to fill that [heroine] role. So when I had to think about whom to use for it amongst the straw hats of course that meant Nami

In Oda’s mind, Luffy is the hero and Nami is the heorine! We can tell that the hero and the heroine are meant to be the driving forces of the series, and therefore putting them together makes the most sense from a storytelling perspective

C) LuffyxNami AKA LuNa/LuNami

“Logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men” – Thomas Huxley

Many shippers tend to ignore and disregard the importance of staying faithful to the canon story, and the author’s take on the characters and their relationships

To makes matters worst some of them even deem as illogical any argument solidly based on these factors. While considering stuff like lines, frogs, sweat, fire, nonexistent sexual tension, assumption of sexuality, and even assumptions of pregnancy, as legitimate proofs of a plausible outcome! In fact they even value comparisons to other series with a different tone, themes, and characters over anything that the One Piece author conveys through his work

There’s even people who goes as far as editing the wiki as if that would change the story to match their preferred pairing!

But in order to reach a conclusion that remains true to One Piece and its nature we have to rely on the very same foundation that was already described several times: mutual trust/respect, faith on one another, significant moments, stress in their relationship and emotional development. If the story doesn’t let you build your premises on these elements, the conclusion you’ll reach will obviously be flawed and stray away from what One Piece really is

So here I’m not only defending the premise I strongly support; I’m defending the very same story and build-up that contributes to this bond’s natural growth:

As explained before there’s nothing explicitly romantic about major interactions. But given we’re dealing with a good and dilligent writer, what we’ll get to see is how big to small moments stablish an emotional connection between two characters, and how that becomes the base for a even greater growth

First we have the themes of trust and faith: At first Nami doesn’t trust Luffy very much, out of her clear distate for pirates, until witnessing how far was Luffy willing to go to selflessly help others. Even then Nami treated their relationship as a mere business and later betrayed the crew

Still Luffy always trusted Nami to the point of putting blind faith in her. Even when given reasons not to do so. One remarkable example is when Luffy was informed by someone trustworthy (Johnny) that Nami apparently “killed” to Usopp, and Luffy not only kept holding onto his blind faith in Nami but he also threatened Johnny for saying such things about her


This becomes something remarkable when we take into consideration that Zoro quickly gave up on Nami and later tried to attack her without even a second thought! While Usopp just wanted  the Merry back…

And it would later become even more impressive in the Whiskey Peak Arc when Luffy came to doubt Zoro because of the words of wounded man he didn’t even know, and even doubted Robin during Water 7 until Nami told him and the crew the truth behind Robin’s desertion:

But what else makes this situation with Nami any different from others we see in the manga? Some might point to the saga where rescuing Robin was the primary objective; but in Robin’s case Luffy knew her life was in danger for Robin was planning to die for the crew, and he got the resolve to save her only after learning the truth. Others might point to the current arc, but he saw right through Sanji’s act and got desperate to rescue him only after hearing his life is in danger.

Here, Nami’s life wasn’t in danger as far as Luffy knew. And he constantly try to reach out to her despite her harsh attitude and the fact he knew next to nothing about her past and her current circumstances. It was only when he saw her cry he got enough motivation to beat Arlong, and it was only when he got a small glimpse of what she went through that he lost it!

How does Nami respond to this? Initially she wanted to get Luffy out of her villaje and her life. While Nami indeed grew fond of Luffy and the others she wasn’t willing to bond with any of them; she held on her distrust of others. But that changed when she finally hitted her lowest point, when she finally lost all hope. Then it comes Nami’s first major development as character: she realized she needed to rely on someone else, she realized Luffy was her only hope Nami decided to rely on him. The following scene marks the first time of many when Nami relied on Luffy to a emotional level. And the first of two times when Luffy entrusted his treasure to her in a touching gesture to provide comfort and hope:

From the very beginning the emotional build-up between Luffy and Nami was a key factor for one of the most meaningful and memorable moments in One Piece. The moment when Luffy becomes Nami’s “emotional anchor”

The effect Luffy had on her character was also quite powerful as we could see during the 2nd pass of the hat: back then at Skypiea arc Nami could still panic at dreadful situations: 

But as soon as Luffy gave her his treasure, the panic stopped and when he was later removed from the battle field, Nami was capable of drawing enough courage from Luffy to face the big bad from that arc:

Not to mention Luffy’s final move against Enel was combined effort of the two as well as an impressive display of mutual trust/faith

We can continue to appreciate their development even futher as the story goes on. As someone already pointed out, Nami during Water 7 displayed an impressive resolve and determination, but as soon as she got the chance to explain Luffy their situation she opened her heart to express how she felt, her anguish and her distress. When Luffy reassures her that he will save Robin, she doesn’t cry anymore until she reunites with Robin

Their bonding is even futher explored in the only One Piece movie fully written by Oda: Strong World. As this is the author’s take on their relationship is still a valid argument to support Luffy/Nami development:

We already considered how impressive Luffy’s blind faith in Nami can be. So after listening to most of Nami’s recorded message, Luffy gets enraged! Why?

Well, after all that time Luffy relied on his navigator without ever doubting her. He was likely expecting all his trust and faith in Nami to be reciprocated

Turns out Nami does return that feeling! And why can we say that? Remember the movie’s ending: Nami finds out everyone in the crew got her hidden “save me” at the end of her message… everyone but Luffy. Then when Luffy is about to play the recorded proof of Nami’s unwavering faith in him, what does she do? She tries to get rid of the “edvidence” out of embarrassment 

It’s easy to see then why Nami seeked out Luffy for hope and comfort during Zou. And how she did something similar to what happened in Water 7: she opened up to Luffy

I said it before, since Luffy is Nami’s “emotional anchor”, it makes sense for her to keep strengthening her bond with Luffy. And given Luffy needs a guide to new adventures and someone “mature” enough to sometimes keep him in line, it makes sense for Luffy to grow closer to Nami

She once summed it up pretty well: “He always talks big, but when it comes down to it, he knows nothing about the sea! He’s severely lacking in the ‘sense of danger’ area! And he always overdoes it…if I left him alone, he’d die. And he’s stupid, so I have to take care of him. That’s why I’m gonna help him!” - Nami, chapter 596

Still, none of this is explicitly romantic in the traditional sense of the word. But just like someone who’s contructing a building, we start dealing with the foundations to then proceed to make a solid structure: a well-written relationship that enhances the story

As someone once reviewed, Luffy and Nami dynamic doesn’t need to chance for them to become endgame for they already have anything they need to finish that “building”. And that’s what’s being a potent pairing means: having everything to your favor for futher development and growth. Luffy and Nami definitively have the major moments and the emotional bonding while remaining consistent to the One Piece canon to be considered a Potent Pairing

Bonus:

It’s interesting we find other interaction that proves how comfortable is Nami around Luffy: 

She doesn’t mind having Luffy around her, what she really minds is Luffy wanting to go to dangerous places But why is this relevant? In Thriller Bark we had a clear showing of how she reacts to pervs trying to accomplish what Luffy did here. She electrocutes them. We can confirm she haven’t changed in this regard because at the end of Fishman Island arc Nami electrocutes a perv for trying to peek at her while she was taking a bath

Another interesting detail about Nami’s attitude toward Luffy is a change we see in WCI. Of course we have the remarkable faith and trust Nami puts on Luffy by even boasting how him being the future Pirate King ensures their victory over Cracker’s ability.

But the real change is when Sanji brutalizes Luffy. Nami already stated she felt guilty for what happened when Sanji got taken. But when Sanji did his “little” number on Luffy her attitude changed, she not only begged him to stop but was also promising they’ll leave if he did (Luffy clearly disagreed on that)

After seeing the way Sanji treated her captain, Nami did something the could seem pretty justified because of what happened: she slapped Sanji and then sarcastically played along Sanji’s “royal” act.

When she goes to Luffy and finds out her captain is not relenting on his effort to get Sanji back, she gives us this little gem:

The Japanese text for Nami’s dialogue reads: “Luffy!! Why?! No matter what his reasons are, after he did all that to you…”

The term she used here for the line in bold conveys the idea of severe mistreatment. She was obviously mad at the way Sanji attacked and badmouthed Luffy and his dream. Ironically Luffy is the one who shows far more emotion to the prospect of getting Sanji back than Nami, she kept displaying far more concern for Luffy as the chapters went on

Nami is now showing, little by little, more of a emotional attachment to Luffy. Which makes a lot sense given what we saw in their story

You know i love the idea of karma and nagisa starting a relationship when they were still in highschool but you know whats better? Them just starting a relationship WHEN THEY’RE OLDER:

  • Nagisa having a crush on Karma when they were still in highschool but wasn’t able to tell him, fastforward to 8 years in the middle of the year, his students are all asking “do you have anyone you like” and “who was your first love?” Types of questions
  • Him answering “well there was this one person in my class–” and the class is so intrigued by the story but it ends in a so half-assed tway hat they ended up saying NO THAT CANT BE THE ENDING” and basically scolding their teacher to man up and that he really missed his chance
  • HIS STUDENTS BEING REALLY SUPPORTIVE OF HIM!!
  • Or Karma is the one who had a crush on Nagisa but again DIDNT TELL HIM cause he thought it would just trouble nagisa and he didn’t want that.
  • His office mates keep asking why he doesn’t have a girlfriend or wife despite his looks and job and he’ll just answer with “sorry im only interested on a person who is willing to hijack a space-shuttle and terrorize highly trained astronaut with me to save a mutant octopus” and of course they think he’s joking
  • They started setting him up with random girls but it doesnt work out so they start asking him what type of person he’s looking for and he just sTARTED DESCRIBING NAGISA and they’re just like “wow man thats really specific” and he just replies with “its just a list of things im attracted to”
  • Both of them just saying to them selves “they’re over it” but t h e y  a r e n o t and they’re completely in denial
  • OR just them not realizing ANYTHING AT ALL in their high school years, cause they never fell in love before and they just keep saying this is a “normal feeling that b r o s share” and the whole class E just watches them in pain
  • “So who’s going to tell them?”
    NO ONE WILL, THEY HAVE TO REALIZE IT THEMSELVES
  • They then try hinting at them multiple times and then they realize this will never ever work
  • “they’re geniuses when it comes to assassination but complete idiots when it comes to their own feelings” AND THIS LITERALLY GOES ON FOREVER
  • After so many years they meet each other again at a certain shop for the first time and it became a routine for them that visit the shop and they basically starts hanging out like they used to
  • THEM ACTING LIKE HIGHSCHOOLERS AND JUST GOOFS AROUND AFter WORK
  • Both of them falling in love all over again with each other but they don’t realize it again and there’s this nagging feeling of “they should say something”
  • Them being like “oh shit oH SHIT” after the dawning realization of their feelings
  • Both of them realizing they actually fell in love with each other since junior high
  • Having this awkward tension between them that they felt like they were back in school until one of them breaks it and a literal RELIEF for both of them
  • But they still were’t a hundred percent sure so it ended up with Karma courting nagisa LIKE A HIGHSCHOOLER
  • Nagisa-sensei receiving flowers and chocolates randomly and students keep asking questions about where its from
  • Especially on valentines day, everyone in the faculty gave him a rose on the way to his desk and to his surprise (and embarrassment) his whole desk is covered with petals and a chocolate cake in the middle
  • Getting random embarrassing text from karma in the middle of class as a joke
  • Karma waiting in front of the school and the students keep asking who’s the handsome guy with a suitcase upfront until nagisa walks over to him and drags him out and they’ll all be like “O”
  • NAGISA BEING BOMBARDED WITH ALL THIS QUESTIONS FROM BOTH FACULTY AND STUDENTS
  • ENDING UP HIM FEELING LIKE HE WANTS TO DIE FROM ALL THIS EMBARRASSMENT
  • Karma greeting Nagisa good morning and goodnight every single da y on text
  • EVEN BETTER THEY JUST RECORD THEIR OWN VOICE AND SENDS IT TO EACH OTHER
  • Both of them texting each other when they have a bad day and they just surprise each other at their own apartment bringing them their favorite food
  • Karma receiving NICE LITTLE NOTES IN POST IT FROM NAGISA AND HE KEEPS IT IN A NOTEBOOK
  • Karma trying to stay serious and cool but when nagisa texts him he Becomes REALLY GIDDY AND COULDNT STOP SMILING
  • When Nagisa visits him in the office for the first time all of karma’s office mates are like “OH MY GOD THEY EXIST”
  • The whole building instantly welcomed nagisa
  • THEM FINALLY ANNOUNCING THEY’RE TOGETHER IN ONE OF THE CLASS E REUNIONS
  • ALL OF CLASS E GIVE THEM AN “are you kidding me” LOOK SAYING IT WAS SO OBVIOUS AND WHAT TOOK THEM SO LONG
  • MAEHARA AND ISOGAI SHARED MOMENTS THEY LITERALLY THOUGHT THEY WERE DATING
  • EVEN SUGINO SAID HE WAS THIRD-WHEELING AROUND THEM
  • THEY ENDED UP CREATING JOKES LIKE “the gods have answered” and “koro-sensei is so proud”
  • KARMA AND NAGISA LEARNING HOW GAY THEY REALLY WERE BACK THEN AND IT DEFINITELY THE MOST EMBARRASSING THING THEY EXPERIENCED
  • NAKAMURA BEING LIKE “HOLY FUCK I WAITED FOR THIS FOR 8 YEARS, TERASAKA WHERES MY MONEY AT”
Enough Is Enough - Part 1

Summary: You have known Bucky Barnes your entire life and he is your twin brother’s best friend, so seeing him on a daily basis shouldn’t be all that much of a problem right? Wrong. You hate the guy, with a passion, and no matter how hard you try you just can’t seem to get rid of him. He is there, constantly, like some persistent little pest that refuses to leave from where it’s not welcome.

So what happens when you start to pick up on just why that might be? Will your strong opinion on him change or become even worse?

Note: This is the first part to my entry for Tay’s AU Writing Challenge I had the prompt  “I don’t hate you. It’s just that if you were on fire I wouldn’t piss on you to save your life, is all.” and chose to have it as a Bucky x Reader fic. I’m new to the whole AU side of things so I hope you enjoy!

Bucky x Reader (AU)

Words: 2,370

Disclaimer: Both GIFs used were created by me.

James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes.

He was the epitome of everything you had ever hated in a man or, in his case, a boy.

Obnoxious? Check.

Arrogant? Check.

Childish and annoying? Double check.

But the worst thing? He was ridiculously good looking and he knew it. You had lost count of how many girls had wandered out of his apartment at the crack of dawn – although you always did wonder if they had ANY idea they had just been used of if they truly thought he wanted to enter into some kind of relationship with them.

Pour souls.

You had known the guy for most of your life (although that was most certainly not through choice) and you had never seen him in any kind of relationship, not even a short-lived one. Now how was it he had been in your life for so long? Well some higher power had obviously decided that you had done something wrong in a previous life because you were ever able to get rid of him….no matter how hard you tried to.

Keep reading

Summary of That GOT soulmark au I'll probs never write

In this au everyone in Westeros gets a soulmark at puberty, nobility mostly never tells anyone where the mark is for safety reasons and because 99% of the time highborns get matched to lowborns and that’s just sad or dangerous for all involved, the mark is only visible if the person wants to show it so soulmarks in Westeros are some high kept secret people never share and such.

Some lucky people were like Ned and Caitlin who had the marks of a silver wolf and a blue fish in their arms respectively and yayy for them. Ned was intimately the only one who ever knew his sister Lyanna had a dragon in her chest and that’s why he took in Jon, because hd knew Raegar and not Robert was her true soulmate.

Depending on the place of the mark people can tell what kind of soulmates they’re matched to, arm means strength, legs means endurance, head means intelligence and so on.

Nobody knows what the Starks had as marks because like all houses they never told.

Robb was probably the most sad because he had a thorny rose in the palm of his hand and he knew what he was giving up when he married Talisa. And despite being married to Renly for political reasons when the grey wolf in Margaery’s own hand dissapeared only Loras knew that she mourned Robb in a way only people that never get to meet their soulmates do.

Joffrey never cared to look for the girl who had his mark and Roslin Frey was better off for it when the black lion in between her shoulder blades disappeared the day the ‘king’ was poisoned.

Cersei’s mark was a golden lion in her hip, she was convinced that it meant Jamie was her other half because they were twins, Jamie loved his sister so much he lied and told her that he was, only Tyrion knew that Jamie’s mark was a sword in the underside of his arm. The Lannister cousin that shared Cersei’s mark eventually married someone from Casterly Rock and outlived her by decades, Heynri Lannister didn’t mourn the soulmate he never met, because he never knew who she was.

The sword in Jamie’s arm eventually led him to think that being a knight was his life’s calling, he served under Aerys, then Robert, then Joffrey. He crossed paths with Brienne of Tarth, grew to admire the great amazon woman greatly but it wasn’t until she named his gift 'oathkeeper’ that he knew why there was a sword in his non dominant arm. Arms were supposed to mean strength and Brienne was all that and more.

Brienne suspected the rusty Lannister pretty boy was her soulmate since the bear, knowing he had that weird thing for Cersei, Brienne didn’t bother to ask him, but she knew for sure that the sword in her dominant arm was Jamie’s when he almost died in the battle of dawn. It kept blinking in and out of existence while Jamie was being tended to the maesters of Winterfell…plus Tyrion totally tattled.

When Arya Stark had her first moon blood a black stag appeared in her leg, she didn’t care about soulmate business tough, not when she had already seen so much death and half of her family was already dead, or when the man in the house of black and white told her to cut off the skin where her mark was in her mission to become no one, and didn’t care when she decided to become Arya Stark again.

Gendry tough, he knew that Arya was his soulmate from the moment she told him who’s daughter she was, his leg had the head of a brown direwolf and how much of a coincidence could that be? He only knew her for a short time and she had her list of names but he knew he would love her even if he never saw her again.

He did see her again, in King’s Landing, Arya never knew who found who, but one minute the city was celebrating Cersei’s death and the next thing that happened Arya and Gendry were face to face. From then on its unclear if it was Arya who dragged Gendry to Winterfell or in Gendry followed Arya on his own. Point is that Sansa told everyone that Arya and Gendry were a thing and everybody took her for her word no matter how much Arya and Gendry denied it.

Samwell Tarly almost died ten times before meeting his soulmate, because of that, Gilly was fairly used to watching the owl on her shoulder appear and dissapear since way before anyone told her what soulmarks were, Sam’s was a gillyflower naturally and his father thought that it was such a stupid mark that it only accelerated his wish to send Sam to take the black. These two were such dorks, they were the type of soulmates that thought that love and destiny and survival against while walkers meant that they were always supposed to be together because 'soulmarks’. Gilly still looks down on people who give up on their soulmates and Sam eventually writes his own book studying the subject after Gilly’s boy grows up.

Sansa and Tyrion were the rare type of people who had a mark in their neck, which means that quite literally their other half will be… not good for said neck.

Sansa used to dream that her soulmate was someone like Jory, but on getting her soulmark in King’s Landing, horror of horrors Sansa thought that her mark was Joffrey’s, because she had on her neck an exact replica of the Lannister sigil in black, exept for one detail…her lion had gold dragon wings. So she consoled herself that it couldn’t be Joffrey and since she didn’t know any man who fit the description of a BLACK lion with wings, she told herself and anybody that asked that she’d never met him or her. Tyrion was the only Lannister who she thought she trusted enough to ask about the sigil but the day she finally plucked the courage was the day he was forced to tell her lady mother and Robb.

While he didn’t believe in soulmark hogwash even before Tysha, Tyrion thought that his soulmark was the most handsome thing ever, his neck had a red direwolf howling to the moon, it was a piece of artwork straight out of a artisan pen. He thought being a dwarf and a Lannister he wouldn’t ever meet his soulmate let alone be allowed to marry her so he was reckless with his dick and never paid it much attention. Even tough he fancied that he knew her when he was drunk, his neck wolf. The soulmate who could cost him his neck. He went in a very deep denial when he met the stark children, because he suspected that Sansa was his mark, even deeper during the battle of blackwater and it wasn’t until Tywin forced Tyrion to marry her that he realised that it was far more likely that HE would cost Sansa her life. So he tried to protect her and didn’t tell her.

Then Joffrey died and Sansa left and Tyrion was accused of murder. So it always came back to the neck metaphor. Tyrion and his survival and Sansa and hers.

Then of course Ramsey happened and Mereen happened and the battle of the bastards happened and Danny happened. So Tyrion and Sansa were a bit busy playing the game. It wasn’t until they saw eachother again while brokering a treaty between the south and the north with Danny and Jon that literally everyone noticed how Sansa and Tyrion simultaneously touched the same spot in their necks on sight.

Sansa never knew if it was parentage, being considered worthy to ride Viserion on becoming the hand of the 'dragon’ queen that gave the golden wings to her soulmark’s black lion, neither did Tyrion( tough Varys probably did). But for them the soulmark thing was more of a full circle kind of omen. When Danny used Sansa as an excuse to leave Tyrion in Winterfell while she mobilized supplies and troops to battle the white walkers Tyrion in Sansa’s turf was almost a thing of déjà vu when Sansa had to use HER influence as sister of the king to avoid getting Tyrion by Lannister haters.

Eventually they settled into a routine of Tyrion protecting Sansa’s neck, Sansa protecting Tyrion’s and when the war of dawn was over Tyrion took Sansa to the ruins of Casterly Rock and asked her to marry him again. They became the kind of soulmates everyone looked up to, powerful, smart and very much in love, the couple everyone else went for advice on THEIR soulmate troubles because Sansa and Tyrion went trough all these stages of loss and separation in between meeting, falling gradually inlove and getting (voluntarily) married that they usually did have an answer for everything.

Daenerys and Jon both thought that they were born witout soulmates, Viserys liked to taunt Daenerys saying that Targaryens never got things like soulmarks but Jorah was the one who told Danny when she married Khal Drogo that people with the blood of old valyria were rumored to get their soulmarks only in unusual circumstances, since the gods had a tendency to match power with more power, endurance with endurance and strenght with strength, marked Targaryens were by far the most dangerous.

When a wolf shaped icicle surounded by fire appeared in Danny’s breast the day she emerged from Drogo’s funeral pyre with her hatchlings. She knew she was destined to take back Westeros, because she was the first marked Targaryen in centuries.

Jon always thought that not having a mark meant that he was defective and that’s why he was okay with taking the black and becoming a crow, but the night Igritte died he woke up to a burning in his chest only to find the mark of an impressive white dragon just above his heart and it almost broke him.

Blood of old valyria soulmates were so unheard of that nobody could tell Danny why she kept dreaming of snow and cold, or why Jon kept seeing the sunny buildings of Essos and Mereen when he warged into ghost. Eventually they got used to it and even found it nice to have a mystical 'companion’ share their soulmark, why not let it be?, it wasn’t like it was harming anybody.

Then Jon died and Drogon had to almost burn Daenerys back to life again because she felt it all, Tyrion and Varys were worried as hell when Danny collapsed one moment and then spent a week with her children recovering from how frightening the ordeal was.

Mellisandre saw Jon’s mark when she revived him, she warned him that there was only only one person that dragon could belong to but Jon didn’t listen. Not to her or the fire God. He knew the heart of the person his mark matched and it wasn’t some egomaniacal people burning dragon queen.

To be fair when Danny told Tyrion what her mark looked like the imp knew her soulmate was someone she might want dead, but he did tell her who he suspected. And likewise Danny didn’t listen, because the very idea was ridiculous.

Ironically when Jon and Danny met for the first time in the battlefield after Danny took the throne from Cersei, it was Raegal and Ghost who recognized eachother like some sort of long lost animal brothers. Forcing Danny and Jon to admit that they had a problem, Danny didn’t want to kill her soulmate anymore than Jon wanted to kill his and they were in the middle of a battle.

So Sansa and Tyrion were called in to broker a ceasefire and in the process Jon and Danny joined forces to fight the real threat to Westeros: the night’s king, Daenerys almost died, Jon almost died, even when they held lightbringer together and pushed it in the monster’s stomach there was a moment both thought that they wouldn’t make it, but they did and when Westeros united itself once again to celebrate the end of winter nobody was surprised to hear that the people wanted them BOTH in the iron throne. And since Jon refused to live without Daenerys anymore and Daenerys was willing to execute anybody who told her she couldn’t keep Jon, it was decided that on marrying Danny Jon would in good faith take the Targaryen name for the sake of any offspring they might have.

An: so yeah I wish I could write this, but I have to many projects and cant, still at least now you know the condensed version.

Trailing wishes

a/n: a short story I wrote for a writing club meeting.

There once was girl who was cursed by a mischievous jinn. Her parents stared on in horror as he laughed and said-

“No caveats. A wish free of strings.”

And then he disappeared.

But they had little to fear, because their daughter was also blessed with a bone deep wisdom. Her curiosity was crossed with brambles of temperance, a little bit of blooming pragmatism that prevented her from ever using the wish.

Her first test came when she was six.

She’d wanted a pony for so long…but there was no room in her bed and no room in her yard.

And while the wish battered at her pursed lips, she staunchly refused. The stars were glittering outside her window, beckoning her to make her wish. But she merely shook her head, and wrote down her desire in her yearly to Santa Claus.

She knew it wouldn’t give her what she wanted, but it was the best way to save herself the heartache of a wish.

Because there’s always a catch to the see sort of things.

She grows up with lessons of hard work. Her parents were immigrants. People who believed that the best of life could be reached through effort. So her blessed wish is tucked to the back of her memories.

She lives as she learns. Everything tastes so much sweeter with effort, and even when her hands are rough and she makes terrible mistakes, she simply laughs and files away that lesson for later.

She lives a good life into young adulthood.

And then it becomes one of bittersweetness.

Her mother is cursed with a failing body. The wish is close to breaking through. She’s close to her beside, and when she’s just about to say it, her mother’s eyes flare open and wildly look at her.

Her frail fingers wrap around her wrist and she says.

“Don’t. This is the way it should be.”

The girl merely weeps in agreement, and she learns to live with the lifelong resentment her father looks at her with after her mother passes.

So she lives and loves.

She meets a man. She loves him enough to tell him about her curse.

He calls it a blessing. That should have tipped her off to the worst part of him.

He’s loving. He’s cheerful. But she can’t really blame him for his greed. Ambition is a wonderfully potent thing, and when it clouds your sight, you’ll hurt to get what you want.

He hurts her. With words and with lovers.
He tells her, if you loved me, you would make that wish for me.

Still, her wisdom wins out over her aching, shattered love. She gathers the remnants of what she once felt for him, and hurls them into the depths of her soul.

There’s no need for a clean goodbye.

When he wakes to an empty bed and half the closet free, he regrets.

But she’s long since flown away, her wish trailing despondently behind her.

She travels instead.

She lets the love of humanity fill her to the brim, lets her smile unfurl for those she meets in a strange new land. She helps where she can and learns what she wants.

It’s an existence that comes not without a bit of effort, because in a distant land, she finds a jinn.

It’s a starry night. Her campfire is starkly bright orange against the dark rolling hills of the desert. The bedouins she travels with tell her stories, and when they head off to sleep, one by one, she stays awake. Listening to the crackling of the fire.

It seems to speak, and she swears she can hear it say-

“Why do you not make a wish?”

She answers with a smile of her own, slightly apprehensive that she speaks to a fire.

“Because I want to make my own path.”

The fire remains silent, innocently burning.

“Your own path?” The response comes from a delicately featured man who sits beside her.

He’s dressed in the robes of her travel companions. White and flowing, but his smile is curious and his eyes are golden as the embers that burn close to her toes.

She doesn’t know him.

But there’s something that unfolds at the back of her mind. An answer that tumbles like starlight to the tip of her tongue as she clamps down on her will.

He’s dangerously beckoning. Dangerously uncorking her curiosity.

But she stands firm in her humanity.

“I have no need for wishes, jinn.” She mutters stubbornly, picking at the folds of her blanket. She pointedly meets his gaze, determination etched into her expression. “As a matter of fact, if it’s in your ability, would you please take away the one you gave me.”

He laughs. It’s round, pretty type of laugh that sends shivers down her spine.

And then he shakes his head.

“I wasn’t the jinn that gave you that wish. But it calls me. It trails off of you like a comets’ tail. Are you sure you don’t want it granted?”

She shakes her head firmly, and she merely looks up at the star strewn sky.

“No thank you. I’m content.”

“Content. Not happy?”

“Happy too. And sad. And angry…and everything that I want to feel.”She simply shrugs.

“Curious…very curious. And would you rather spend the rest of your days wondering what would have happened if..”

“If what?” She asks dully, and then sighs. “If I’d wished for my mother to live? If I’d wished to be accepted into that graduate program? If I’d wished for my ex to be successful?”

“If you’d wished for a small horse.” He adds in blithely. And then he gives that same infuriating lovely laugh.

“Sure. If I’d wished for a pony, I’d be more than content…at that moment…when I was eight. If I’d wished she had lived, I would have lost her eventually and she would have hated me for taking away her choice. If I’d wished him success, would he have still loved me?”

She unravels for a bit as she says all of this, and he sees beyond the frustration and the hurt. She’s genuinely living. Hurting and laughing and understanding.

“And you’re correct. Who’s to say that the road not taken would have been a better life?”

“I can’t say. But life’s too short to regret.” She smiles at him. “But I’m going to keep going forward, even if all I am in the end is a shooting star that can’t last.”

“Fair choice.” He agrees and with a musing look. “I could learn much from you.”

She laughs.

“You could learn much from yourself, jinn.”

He makes his own wish. That he may stay to learn a bit more of how to live a life not plagued by certainty.

“May I stay with you until I learn?” He asks quietly, and while he may have an inkling of the future, his path is uncertain for once.

The girl simply shrugs her shoulders underneath her blanket.

“Sure.”

He hums in gratitude, and they watch the stars wheel across the sky into a watery dawn. The wish trailing from her like a shooting star, and his own wish crackling like a patient fire.

His presence is explained in vague terms to her travel companions and is accepted with little suspicion.

And they live a life of learning and regrets. But still she makes no wish, and still, he stays by her side.

She grows old. He’s a being of magic and mayhem, and he does not.

As she’s dying, he holds her withered hand in between his. He is tearful, and for once, her curiosity is free from its bounds and it sparks in her eyes.

“Your wish…you’re falling, my dearest friend.”He tells her, his tears falling hot and heavy against her wrinkled smile.

And she whispers her last words-

“I wish I had lived a life where I made a wish.”

He doesn’t have anything to say to that, because she slumps back onto her pillow.

She made her wish while she still lived. There’s nothing left for him to grant.

He understands then what she had known all along. The value of accepting your choices is a precious thing.

A Way to You Again: Part 9

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count:  1792

Catch Up Here

Summary: Bucky and Y/N have been fairly successful at keeping their relationship hidden from the rest of the Avengers. That is… until Nat walks into the kitchen one night and finds Bucky kissing Y/N. While Y/N is relieved that their relationship is out in the open it soon becomes more complicated than she could have ever imagined.

Author’s Notes: Thanks to the lovely @melconnor2007 for the request. Holy mother of confrontations.

Originally posted by dailybuckybarnes

Originally posted by ch-est-er

I felt the couch shift slightly as someone sat beside me. I immediately knew who it was, and I was happy to act like I was sleeping until the end of time to avoid him. “Y/N,” Bucky whispered softly as he placed his hand on my back. I stiffened at the contact.

“Don’t,” I snapped as I sat up and looked at him. I could tell it was nearing the early dawn hours by the soft yellow light that flooded through the windows.

“Please doll,” he whispered as he placed his hand back in his lap. “I didn’t ask for her to be there. I told her to leave right before you came in,” he explained – desperation dripping from his voice.

“Don’t you get it?” I laughed as I hastily wiped tears away from my eyes. “You did ask for it, Bucky. You slept with her and kept it a secret before breaking it off…” I paused for a moment before turning to him. “Did you even really break it off or were you seeing her when you started spending time with me?” The words sounded much more accusatory than I had meant for them to be.

Bucky blinked for a moment – shocked at the words that had come out of my mouth – before anger flashed across his face. “For Christ’s sake, Y/N! If you would just let me explain what happened!” he answered, exasperated, as he slammed his fist onto the couch.

“I think I can sum it up quite nicely. You fucked my best friend, and kept it a secret from everyone on the team. You then broke it off with her— knowing that she had feelings for you, and began pursuing me. You then did the exact same thing to me,” I muttered bitterly as I looked anywhere but at him.

“Except I didn’t break it off with you – you ran away. Off to some place that I couldn’t find, and refused to talk to anyone. And then when I called to apologize you told me it’s over, and hung up. Let’s not forget about the sister I never knew existed.” Bucky was becoming more agitated by the minute as he struggled to reign in his emotions.

“I didn’t tell you about her because I was trying to protect her!” I shouted as I angrily pushed myself off the couch.

“And why won’t you believe me when I tell you the same thing?” he asked as with a sad sigh. His anger had deflated and he was grappling for words as he ran his hands through his hair nervously. The sight of him looking so helpless and confused disarmed me and I felt my own anger ebb. All the things that Steve had confided in me about Bucky’s happiness and subsequent withdrawal after I had left came flooding back. I sat down beside him softly.

“When did you start having nightmares again?” I asked quietly. In the months that we had been together he rarely had nightmares, and even when he did they were no where close to what he had had tonight.

“Since you left,” he responded just as quietly.

“I’m sorry I left. I know it wasn’t the right thing to do. I should have stayed and talked to you…. I missed you,” I added as I rested my hand over his.

“Then nothing else matters. It’s all in the past. We can move forward,” he responded fiercely as he gazed up into my eyes.

His words echoed back to those of another, who had once said the the same thing—holding me captive with the promise of a better tomorrow for years. I could feel the chill creep into my heart again as I quickly removed my hand and watched Bucky’s face melt into confusion. “It does matter and you know it,” I responded brutally.

“Why? Why can’t we talk about this and move on from it?” Bucky pleaded.

“Because I love you!” I yelled at him as I pushed off the couch once again. I froze at my sudden announcement. I hadn’t meant to say it – I had just been trying to reason my feelings out in my mind and it had slipped through. I looked at Bucky as he sat frozen on the couch. His mouth opened and closed several times; unable to formulate any type of response to me. I turned to leave – it was like I was living my own personal nightmare. I had prepared for this revelation as best as I could, but I had failed miserably in its delivery.

“Y/N, wait,” Bucky breathed as his hand wrapped around my arm – stopping me in my tracks. I turned to look at him again, but still saw the same troubled and terrified blue eyes that I had witnessed when I had accidentally confessed my feelings. “I…”

“Just tell me this Bucky – why did your best friend have to come find me in secret? Why wasn’t it you?” I asked bitterly as tears stung my eyes. Bucky looked down at the ground unable to answer me. “Jesus Christ – I can’t stay here and look at you like this,” I muttered as I yanked my arm from his grasp and turned to leave. As I stepped into the elevator I turned to make sure he wasn’t following me and saw him standing in the same spot I had left him. Just before the doors closed he turned to look at me with tears in his eyes.


I slumped against the wall of the elevator once the doors had closed. I felt like I had had the breath knocked out of me. Tears trailed down my cheeks as I tried desperately to regain my composure. Some of the others would be awake by now and I didn’t want to stir any suspicion. I couldn’t answer their questions – no matter how well intended they might be.

As the elevator doors opened to the common room I rushed through them – determined to dart to my room. In my panic I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings and ran into Steve.

“Woah, Y/N! Where’s the fire?” he chuckled. The humor in his eyes extinguished when he looked at my bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. “What happened?”

“I…” I was finding it hard to speak, and keep my composure. “I walked in on Nat comforting Bucky after a nightmare and I…” Steve visibly tensed at this.

“Go on,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me and brought my head to his chest.

“I… he followed me, and I confronted him… and… I told him I loved him,” I whispered as I buried my head into Steve’s chest. I just wanted to disappear. “And he didn’t say anything, Steve… He just stood there.”

“Y/N,” Bucky’s voice came from behind me. I stiffened at the sound. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Steve hugged me tight as he sighed into my hair.

“Y/N, you should head back to your room. I’ll come check on you in a second,” Steve muttered. I looked up at him confused.

“Steve, I can…” but the look he gave me stopped me in my tracks. I swallowed hard before Steve’s arms dropped to his side and I half-turned defensively towards Bucky.

“Y/N, I…” but Bucky’s words were halted by Steve’s fist hitting him straight in the jaw. He blinked once before falling to his knees. He stared at me as I turned to leave.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Steve asked angrily as I retreated to my room – unwilling to participate in a super soldier brawl.


I slumped back to rest my head on my door. I was dizzy from the tale-spin of emotions that I had just endured. I heard Bucky trudge down the hallway with Steve close behind him.

“What are you doing?!” Steve demanded before a door slammed – securing both men safely in Bucky’s room, and making it less likely that they would wake up the entire tower.

“What am I doing?!” Bucky bellowed back. “I’m trying to win my girl back, and you keep getting in the way Rogers!”

“What the hell are you talking about Buck?” Steve asked – astonishment driving his voice to become even louder.

“Every time I turn around you are there with her. How am I supposed to even get a second to make things right when you are always there?!” Bucky yelled back at him before quieting himself – he must have regained enough sense to realize I could hear everything he was saying.

“You’re kidding, right? You don’t need my help fucking things up, Buck. You’re doing great on your own,” Steve answered incredulously. I could tell that Steve was trying to regain control of his anger but was struggling. “She literally ran away from you, and you refused to run after her. If it wasn’t for me she wouldn’t even be here, you fucking idiot!”

Silence lapsed between the two men as I held my breath – waiting for Bucky’s response. There was of course no way I could have known that Bucky would snap and run full force towards his best friend. Suddenly there was a loud crash and a cloud of debris as the two men came hurtling through the wall –Bucky with his hands still around Steve’s throat. I shrieked in response as I scrambled off of my bed and into the corner of the room as the two men crashed onto the floor. They rolled around – jabbing at one another and grunting. After the initial shock wore off I looked at the gaping hole that now adorned my bedroom wall, and felt anger bubble up from within me.

“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?!” I screeched as I stomped over to the two of them and fruitlessly attempted to pry them apart. The men continued to fight as I yelled at them. Hot angry tears rolled from my eyes as they finally broke apart – realizing suddenly where they were and what they were doing.

Bucky scrambled to his feet quickly – his hair in disarray and he shirt partially torn. “Doll I am so..”

“What the fuck gives you the right to act like fucking two-year olds? Both of you are grown ass men! God! Just get out of my room!” I yelled as I stomped my foot in frustration. Without saying another word both men quickly exited. I groaned as I looked at the gaping hole in the wall near my bed. As Bucky entered his own room I realized there was no way I could stay. Not without seeing him, and hearing him every second – I angrily padded across the room, and grabbed my gym bag before making my way to the gym.

Tags:

@bless-my-demons @lillian-paige @pleasefixthepain @nikkitia7 @kittthekat @ailynalonso15 @themistsofmyavalon @coffeeismylife28 @melconnor2007 @harleyqueen7 @sebbys-girl @marvel-lucy @lbouvet @totallygroovyllama @stickthinbarbie @avengers-bucky-fanfic @buckybarnesbestbabe @irepeldirt @glitterintheairblog @mizzzpink @barnesandnoble13 @themercurialmadhatter @bringmetheemobands @theloveablesociopath @selfdestructivefangirl @bellenuit45 @moncun @smkunz613 @ephemeral-high @the-craziestone @zxcorra @awinterloveuniverse @thefandomplace @hellomissmabel @imamoose @dont-let-me-go-again @barnes-and-noble-girl @hollycornish @amrita31199 @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @skeletoresinthebasement @iron-winter @mikaelarhead @shliic @queenllamamama13 @jasmins3 @caitsymichelle13 @winterboobaer @mytasterpeculiar @bexboo616 @sgt-jbb-107 @sapphire1727 @seargantbcky @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @fiercemonaco @marvelouslyloki @kendallefire @lilasiannerd @alyssaj23 @harleenquim @masha-meow01 @simplyashley95 @beautifulbri26 @buckyappreciationsociety @specs15 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @basicallybucky @and-i-swear-we-are-infinte @tequilavet @welovesebsquad @shamvictoria11 @megandrawsspace @axelinchen @domcaaa996 @get-weird-pjjl @buckypietroandstevearemyfavs @genlovesdcb @gingerbatchwife @specs15 @xthefuckerysquaredx @sammysgirl1997 @sebstanthemanxo @alltheprettyroyals @writingblockswriters @maygenjayne1 @sempiternal-amour @fine-ass-feminist

oh, baby [draco malfoy]

request: “Could u do Draco x reader with prompts 97 and 103 please? It would be so interesting plus I love your writing. You’re so cool xoxo” -anon

word count: ~3000

a/n: why thank u anon, i AM pretty cool! (kidding im actually SO lame like u dont even know omG) anyway i wrote this at like 3 am and im posting it at 5 am so. i’m a few hours late (like a day actually but who’s counting, NOT ME) but happy bday to the real OG man draco malfoy! now enjoy this hot mess of sleep deprivation, angst, snark, and marina and the diamonds inspiration

97: “i don’t want to have a baby.”

103: “i had to see you again.”

Keep reading

Magic Lessons

In which Nesta gets rip-roaring drunk.  Mildly NSFW.  There’s a small shout-out to Anne Bishop’s Black Jewels trilogy too.  Makes more sense if you read the rest first:  1  2  2.5  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11


Nesta scanned the library shelves.  She had about half an hour before she needed to meet with Amren, and wanted to see if there were any books on life magic.  Months earlier, she had read what limited information there was on death magic, but none of it had felt like what she had called up that day against the King.  Hopefully, she had just been searching for the wrong thing, but she’d spent an hour already with no luck at all.  There were stacks of books on Illyrian killing power, and many more on the more generic magics like managing pocket realms and winnowing.  None of which she had tried yet.  Damn.  The silent librarian who escorted her turned into a different set of shelves, pulled two volumes down, and handed them to her.  She carried them to one of the desks that lined the circular walls and flipped one open.  It was a dissertation on magical theory, reviewing the concept of magic as manipulation of molecules.  She didn’t even know what that meant, but it sounded like it might be informative.  The second book opened to a gruesome picture of a fae being misted.  She’d seen enough of that in person during the war, and it had never called to her power.  Closing that one, she lifted the first and turned to the librarian.  “Can I borrow this?”  The female shook her head, and pointed to the desk, then to Nesta.  Okay, then, she could leave it here and come to read it.  She set it back down, nodded her thanks and left, realizing as she climbed that she could have verbally thanked the librarian; Clotho was mute, not deaf.  Oh well.  

Amren had suggested they meet on the roof; it was vacant when Nesta emerged from the House of Wind so she settled into one of the chairs.  Cassian had taken Feyre with him to train with Brisa again, so they wouldn’t be working out up there.  Her stomach ached from his absence.  Or from the memories of the day before.  She still felt a twinge of pain at how close she came to plucking his life before she remembered him after returning to her body.  Though he hadn’t been nearly as disturbed by the fact she’d nearly killed him as by the idea that she might have stayed in the abyss.  Their bond vibrated, and she realized she was sending her thoughts down it unawares.  She opened her pathetic, untrained barrier to him and he sent back an image of their return to the apartment the night before.  Her lips curled into a smile as she recalled flying back from the townhouse chasing the setting sun, all the colors more vibrant  than she had ever noticed before, his arms warm and hard around her, the wind tickling her skin, setting her into a state of arousal yet again.  Cassian must have felt it too, because as soon as he landed he lay her down on the chaise in the rooftop garden and they didn’t bother to fully undress before they were tangled with each other again, his wings flared to hide them from any eyes flying overhead.  Then he had carried her down the stairs, ignoring her laughing protests, mouth claiming hers as he gently set her on her feet.  It felt strange, to return to their apartment after so much had changed and realize they had been gone less than twelve hours.  She had been a little worried that Willow would reject or fear her, but the half-grown cat had greeted her as enthusiastically as ever, whole body vibrating with the force of her purr.  Then this morning, they had lingered in bed far past his usual sunrise awakening.

The sound of a throat clearing interrupted her reverie, and she looked up to see Amren glaring at her.  “Are you ready to work, or am I going to have to deal with newly-mated nonsense all day?”

Nesta bristled a little at the tone, but replied, “Yes” as flatly as she could manage.

The tiny female’s eyes narrowed.  “Yes to which one?”

“You pick,” Nesta replied, but got to her feet.  “What’s the plan?”  

Amren led her over to the door, where she had set a box of plants.  “We need to figure out what your magic affects, and you need to practice control.”

Nesta looked down at the box, wondering if Elain would be mad at her if she destroyed a bunch of plants.  Or if she was right, and it was life magic she possessed, could she turn the roof into a jungle if she pushed her power the other way?  “I found a book,” she said, noticing the crossing of Amren’s arms at the delay, “that talks about magic as manipulating molecules?  I don’t really understand what that means, but it sounded brilliant…” She broke off as she realized Amren actually looked a little embarrassed.  Her expression changed to bored contempt as soon as she noticed Nesta’s attention.  Hmm.  Perhaps the ancient female had more talents than she knew, if she was writing books.  Though after thousands of years of existence, she supposed writing was just another thing to do.

Amren waved a hand dismissively.  “That’s all well and good to read on your own time.  Maybe it’ll help, if you can actually understand it.  For now, grab a plant and sit down.”  Selecting the ugliest plant of the group, Nesta sat at the little painted iron table.  “Close your eyes.”  She obeyed.  “Now, remember what you felt yesterday when you returned and everything was fresh.  Breathe in, and let the power flow through you.  Then breathe out, and reach out with it.  Don’t do anything with it, just feel.”  

But Nesta didn’t have to reach out.  As soon as she thought of the power, she could feel Amren’s life force flowing, so close to her.  The people in the House of Wind behind her as well, servants and librarians and the couple of scholars who had been admitted.  She directed her focus to the plant in front of her, but it may as well have been made of the same iron as the table; she couldn’t feel it.  Minutes passed, and finally she felt a tiny flicker from the plant.  It felt clean, content.  Simple.  And it was…moving.  She opened her eyes and focused on the spot of movement.  A small bug was crawling along a leaf.  “I can’t feel the plant,” she said, “but I can feel the bug.”

“Can you manipulate its life force?”

Nesta shook her head.  “I don’t want to kill it.”

“What?” Amren’s tone was incredulous.  “You don’t want to kill the bug?”

“It’s cute.  And it’s not going to hurt anyone.”

There was a long enough pause that Nesta looked up.  Amren was shaking her head.  “The girl who beheaded the King of Hybern doesn’t want to hurt a bug because it’s cute.”

She gestured at it.  “Look, it’s got all those little spots on its shell.  And the little antennae, they’re…waving.  It doesn’t mean any harm.”  

Amren’s expression shifted from incredulous to intensely focused.  “Can you sense its intent?”

Nesta shrugged.  “I don’t know, it just sounds…feels…benign.”

“Have you been able to sense people’s intentions before?”

“I’ve never really tried.  I mean, I can feel Cassian’s but, you know, the bond.  And he’s remarkably easy to read even without it.”

“Try with me.”

Pursing her lips, Nesta shifted the focus of her power to Amren and just sat for a moment, listening to the complex force flowing under that fair skin.  “You’re…sharp, for lack of a better word,” she said, finally.  “That’s not an intention, but I don’t know how else to describe it.”  

“Do you remember how the King felt?” Amren asked softly, leaning in, silver eyes fixed on the swirling gray-blue.

“No,” Nesta replied automatically, then paused to remember.  She called up the feel of the King when he sat on that throne of bones, conducting the mindless members of his court, thriving on the dismay of his prisoners, on the pain.  Then, when he was readying that Cauldron blast, she had been able to feel his gleeful anticipation at the destruction it would wreak, like a staccato beat.  She had thought it was the Cauldron she had felt, but the Cauldron did not have emotions, did not have an opinion about anything outside of itself.  Finally, as he had appeared holding her father prisoner, the off-notes that had sounded - she had known he would kill him, regardless of what she did.  When she spoke again her voice was trance-like.  “Yes.  He was dissonant, he wanted to disrupt all the threads.  After he died, the chords got more…harmonious.  But then the Cauldron was broken, and you and Rhys…”  She couldn’t find words for the cacophony that had erupted, hadn’t been able to differentiate between emotion and power at all at that time.

“And the queens?”  The words were barely more than a whisper.

Nesta didn’t move or speak for a full minute before shaking her head.  “No, I can’t remember.  They felt wrong, but I don’t know that wasn’t just because they were so obviously uninterested in helping us.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Nesta watching the bug delicately nibbling a leaf, still listening to its tiny life force humming.  There was something soothing about it.  

“Well, we know you can’t feel plants and won’t kill bugs,” Amren finally said drily.  “Is there a creature you’re willing to practice on?  Other than Cassian, of course.”

Nesta shivered at the reminder of her near-disaster the day before.  “I don’t know, maybe Elain can point out some pests or something.”

Amren’s mouth twisted.  “She and her mate went back to the Dawn Court once it was clear you were okay, so we’ll have to wait a bit if you’re going to insist on that.”  Nesta had forgotten Elain and Lucien were on their honeymoon.  She wondered briefly why they had come back, how they had known, but Elain must have seen it and asked to return.  Sweet Elain.  She hadn’t thanked her, or Feyre for that matter.  Her history was filled with unspoken gratitude.

They worked for another hour on pinpointing and describing individual life forces.  She could easily reach about halfway across the city, but selecting an individual to follow among the crowds was challenging.  And exhausting.  By the time Mor came to bring them to dinner, Nesta was starving and had a headache brewing between her eyes.  The three walked towards the dining room.  Mor glanced at her out of the side of her eye.  “Looks like I miss all the fun,” she said casually.

Nesta snorted.  “Well, I would’ve issued you a formal invitation to witness my trauma, but I just don’t like you.”

Mor grinned, golden brown eyes glimmering with humor.  “Given that you apparently came out of wherever the hell you were in a killing rage, I think I’m grateful.”

“Now, now, I wouldn’t go into a killing rage without you to inspire me.  I was just a little confused.”

“Remind me to always be crystal clear with you, then.”  They slid into their seats at the table, the first to arrive.  Mor poured them each a glass of wine.  “I’ll tell you what, though,” she said, more seriously, “I felt you from here.  When you surged.  As soon as I regained my breath I winnowed to the townhouse, but I was told to let you and Cassian be and Feyre promptly dragged me right back here.  You’ve got some wicked power there, I’ve never felt anything quite like it.”

“I still think you should talk to Rhysand,” Amren interjected.  “He may be able to help.”

The High Lord appeared then as if summoned, Azriel a step behind him.  “What can I help with?”

“Managing your sister-in-law’s terrifying power,” Mor chirped, her bright tone at distinct odds with the words.

Rhys inclined his head towards Nesta as he took his seat.  “I’d be happy to.”  He snapped his fingers and food appeared on the table.  “Feyre and Cassian should be here shortly.  She said to get started without them.”

Mor frowned.  “Everything okay?”

Rhys chuckled and even Azriel gave a dry smile.  “Yes, just something has evidently gotten under Cassian’s skin and he needs to blow off some steam before appearing in polite company, apparently.”

Nesta and Mor looked at each other, then back at Rhys.  “Where exactly is the polite company?” Nesta inquired mildly.

“That is a very good question,” Feyre answered, entering the hall.  Cassian prowled behind her, expression stormy.  She dropped a kiss on Rhys’s cheek before slipping into the seat next to him.  Cassian threw himself onto his chair, arms crossed, and Nesta pressed his knee with her own.  He gave her an apologetic grimace that was probably intended to be a smile and she bit her lip to keep from laughing.  Glancing at Feyre did not help her maintain her composure, as her sister’s own lips were twitching.  Whatever had been gotten Cassian riled was clearly not of any dire nature.  Everyone watched him quietly for a moment while he chewed on his lip.

He finally erupted.  “I’m going to wallop her!” His hand slammed onto his table.

“Who?” Mor and Amren chorused, while Nesta asked, “Sabine?”

“Yes!”  He fumed silently for another moment before going on.  “She had the balls to ask me if I was going to invite her father to our mating ceremony.  Of course, she called him our father.  Why the hell is she even thinking about the ceremony?  How does she even know?  You’ve been able to feel the bond for all of a day.”

Azriel cleared his throat and said quietly, “Well, brother, you’ve been engaged for a few weeks now.”

Cassian glared at him.  “She had already asked about the wedding, just assuming she’d be part of it.  Now she’s trying to shove into the mating ceremony that Nesta and I haven’t even had a chance to discuss.”

Mor raised a hand.  “Um, I may have told Brisa about the events yesterday, and I guess she could have told Sabine.”

The warrior whirled to her.  “What?  Why?  When?”

“I ran into her at Rita’s last night,” she said, shrugging.  “She asked me if anything exciting was going on.  I didn’t realize it was a secret, I’m sorry.”

His brow furrowed and jaw clenched as he looked at Mor, anger darkening his eyes.  Nesta wanted to kiss the little wrinkles between those eyes, that muscle feathering in his cheek, but settled for brushing his hand with hers and murmuring, “It’s okay, Cass.  Everyone was going to learn eventually.”  

After a brief moment he glanced at Nesta, then took a breath and settled back into his chair, turning his attention to the food.  Tension still rolled off of him, but he did a passable job of acting normal as they ate and discussed the growing rift the death of the eldest mortal queen had caused on the Continent, and what that might mean for the movement going forward.  When the meal was finally over, and Rhys had agreed to join Nesta and Amren the next day, Nesta took Cassian’s proffered arm and they walked in silence to the roof.  “Can we go out?” he asked abruptly as he scooped her into his arms.

“Sure, if you want.”  So much for going home and finding inventive ways to relieve his tension, but they hadn’t gone dancing in a while, and dancing was often a good source of inspiration.

*****

They landed at the top of a hill unfamiliar to Nesta.  Cassian strode down the darkening street, fast enough Nesta nearly had to jog to catch up.  She took his hand and he slowed, squeezing hers in a gentle apology.  “Why does it bother you so much?” Nesta asked.  “They don’t mean any harm.”

He stopped abruptly and turned to her, his free hand moving to her cheek.  “Because you and I haven’t even had a chance to talk about this, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let them push you into something you don’t want.”  

“Oh.  So it’s not that you don’t…want…all of this?”

He laughed, loud and long, before taking her face between his hands and answering, “I want nothing more than to be with you for the rest of time.  I’d be mated or married or whatever you want tomorrow if we could arrange it.  But if we let Sabine and Mor and everyone take over, we’ll end up having half the Night Court at the ceremony.”  Nesta blanched at that idea, and there was a smile in his voice as he continued, “And since I highly doubt that’s what you want, I’m going to fight like hell to prevent it.”  He kissed her thoroughly, and a couple of kids on the street whooped.  “Now let’s go dance.”

The club was busy, almost as jam-packed as Rita’s always was, the music just as demanding.  “Let’s grab a drink first,” Cassian said in her ear as he steered her towards a booth.  Leaving her there with a kiss to her hair, he headed towards the bar.

“Cass!”

Nesta’s head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice, and she glanced at him where he had stopped, halfway across the floor.  She noted the stiffening of his posture, the subtle tightening of his hands into fists, as a tall, curvy female with large dark eyes and full lips approached.  “Hello, Tamirah,” he said warily.

“It’s been ages since I saw you last,” she replied brightly, “I was wondering when you’d come seek me out.”

“I’m not…” he started, then stopped, collecting himself.  “I’m with someone.”

She laughed, a high, fluttering sound.  “I heard you had someone sharing your bed,” she said, “but that never stopped you before.”

“This is different,” he said warmly.  

Nesta smiled internally at that warmth, though her impassive mask did not shift.  She pretended to be watching the dancers as his eyes flicked to her, then felt Tamirah’s attention shift to her as well.  “Oh, she is lovely, though I heard she’s colder than ice.  Well she’d be welcome to join us, you know I’m always up for that.  And I know you’ve always enjoyed having multiple females at once as well.”  Nesta could feel his flinch down the bond.  The tall female moved as if to run a hand over his chest but he snarled at her, viciously enough that all the nearby dancers stopped and stared.  She took an involuntary step backwards, then laughed again to cover her confusion.  The others shuffled away before resuming their dance, continuing to glance nervously at the warrior.

“You know,” she drawled, cocking her head to the side as she studied Nesta, who still pretended her attention lay elsewhere, “she looks just like the High Lady.”  Her eyes moved back to Cassian, a nasty smile playing over her lips.  “There was a rumor that you and Feyre had a fling before the High Lord claimed her.”  Cassian’s Siphons flared a little, but Tamirah didn’t notice the brief flash of red light.  “She certainly has a taste for powerful males, doesn’t she.  First the Spring Court lord, then you, then Rhysand…I know you and the High Lord are close as brothers, but I guess he wasn’t willing to share.  Looks like you found your own version to play with.”  

Nesta had nearly leaped from her seat at the reference to Feyre, but on feeling Cassian’s anger flare through the bond she settled back to see how he would handle it.  There was nothing of his usual warmth and kindness in his face; no, he looked truly menacing as he stepped towards Tamirah, towering over her.  “If you ever - EVER - insult our High Lady again I will break your fucking neck,” he said, voice low but all the more threatening for it.  “It just so happens that Nesta is Feyre’s sister.  And my mate.  So do me a favor, Tamirah.  Since you love to spread rumors, tell everyone you know that I am mated, and to be married, and completely in love with the High Lady’s sister.  And get the hell out of my face.”

Tamirah obeyed, scurrying for the door with real fear in her face.  Nesta couldn’t help it, she reached a tendril of power out to her.  The tall female’s life force was limp, held together by thousands of tiny threads that spread out to others in a huge fragile web.  There were no thicker threads to anchor her, no strong connections to anyone.  Nesta couldn’t be angry at her, she just felt…sorry.  Even when she had herself barricaded behind ice, Feyre and Elain had always kept their bonds strong and now she was tethered to so many.  This female had no one really, just the illusion of a lot of someones.

A tug from one of Nesta’s someones drew her focus back to Cassian.  He was watching her, expression wary and a hint of sadness in his eyes, and he turned away as she met his gaze.  She rose and eased through the crowd which had encroached upon Cassian again, until she was standing next to him, lightly brushing his arm with her shoulder.  He just looked down at her, and there was something in his face she couldn’t read, a void where the humor usually underlay everything else.  She ran a questioning internal finger down the bond and it came to her - shame.  Her chest ached, and she searched for what to say to let him know she understood, that she didn’t care about anyone he’d let into his life or his bed before her.  

“So, I take it she won’t be sending us a Solstice card?”  His lips twitched but he didn’t reply, and the flash of humor didn’t reach his eyes.  She tried again.  “We can seat her next to Sabine’s father at the ceremony.  I bet they’d hit it off.”  A low growl but a slight thaw.  “I’ve always wondered what the role of the third person was in a multi-partner situation.  It sounds like she’s an expert.  Maybe I should go ask her for information.  Maybe she’s written a book.”  Now he was struggling not to laugh, and she nudged him with her shoulder.  “I never thought you were celibate for five hundred years.”

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face.  “I know, it’s just…running into her with you here…”

“Well,” she said, tone practical, “I imagine if we wanted to avoid all of your former lovers we could never leave the apartment.”  

He started to protest, but paused.  “Okay, you may have a point.”  

“And as long as I’m the only one around at present-”

“You are.”

“- then I don’t care.”  He wrapped his arms around her then, pressing her into his chest and kissing her temple before resting his chin on her head.  She felt the tension he’d been vibrating with leave him.  Another question flitted through her, but now was not the time to ask it.  She tugged him towards the bar.  While they waited for the attention of one the bartenders, she read the various signs that listed the different drinks.

“What’s a Gravedigger?” she asked.

Cassian laughed.  “Trouble in a glass.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s some specialty cocktail they make.  I had two once and it put me completely under the table, Az had to drag me home.”  He laughed again at the memory.

“I want to try one.”

“No you don’t.”

Her eyes flashed.  “Are you telling me what I can have?”

“Of course not,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.  “You want a Gravedigger, that’s fine, I can carry you home.  But don’t blame me in the morning.”  The female bartender turned to them then, and Cassian raised his eyebrows at Nesta.  She nodded.  “I’ll have a brown ale,” he said, “and the she’ll have a Gravedigger.  And a glass of water.”  The golden-haired bartender was grinning, her exotic face alight with humor as she returned with the drinks.  Nesta took a cautious sip of hers.  It didn’t burn as she expected, but instead a gentle warmth flowed through her.  She rolled a second sip on her tongue, savoring the way the sweetness of fruit and honey was balanced by the slight sharpness of the alcohol.  A third sip and she felt strong, bold.  What had Cassian been worrying about?  She drank the rest down and then grabbed his hand and dragged him out onto the dance floor.  

They danced forever, Nesta surrendering herself completely to the music, the pulse of the crowd, all those bright lives moving around her, with her.  The life force flowed through all, she was everyone and everyone was her.  There was no way of knowing how much time had passed, time really didn’t mean anything anyway, it was just a construct after all, when strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her away from the small group she had joined.  She swayed slightly and her back hit against something warm and solid.  She tilted her head back and found herself looking up a vaguely familiar pair of nostrils.  Her focus shifted and there were amused hazel eyes behind those nostrils.  She spent a moment going back and forth between nostrils and eyes.  Odd that she could control that.  Something tickled her face and she reached a hand up to brush it away, but it wasn’t the light feather she was expecting.  Instead her hand smacked the face above hers, one finger going into an eye.  Ew.  There was a deep grunt that reverberated through her back, and the face above hers pulled back.  Now she could see a mouth above a strong chin, and black hair curving down around it.  “Must you poke my eye out, love?” a familiar voice asked.

“Is she okay?” came a husky female voice from nearby.  Nesta turned towards the sound and saw a blur of golden hair surrounding sapphire-colored eyes in a narrow pink oval.  She blinked, and the blur coalesced into a face with sharp, exotic features.

“I think so,” replied the voice behind her.  “I guess I better bring her home though.  I don’t know what you put in that shit, but Mother above…”

There was a warm laugh.  “Need help?”  

“No thanks.”  The face above her swung from side to side, making her dizzy, and she felt herself being hoisted off the ground.  She was floating, suspended, and she stretched her arms over her head, bending backwards over the two hard beams that held her up.  Other hands brushed hers, and there was a murmuring as she passed weightlessly through the crowd.  Then they were outside, the cool air bracing.  She gulped it down like water and felt her head clear a little.  She knew these arms that held her.

“Cassian?” she asked.

“Yes, love?” he rumbled, as something dark spread behind him.  His wings.

“I love you, Cassian,” she said, tears starting in her eyes.  How had she never really realized this?  How deep this went?  How it affected every part of her?

“That’s a relief,” he replied, then kissed her forehead and launched them into the sky.

The cold air nipped at her skin and tore at her hair as they sailed over the city.  “We’re flying!” she shouted.

“Mother’s tits, Nesta, we fly every day.”

“But we’re really flying!  Don’t you know how…how…what a miracle that is?”

His whole body vibrated and she grabbed at his shoulders in case they should fall.  What was wrong with him?  Was he having some sort of fit?  They touched down on a roof and he set her gently down before bending over, howling with laughter.  She didn’t know what was so funny, so she just waited.  Finally, he regained control and straightened.  “Come on, love,” he said, scooping her up again, “let’s get you to bed.”

The apartment was dark as he kicked open the door, and there was a patter of tiny feet and then a small squeak, then lights flared to reveal the fluffy gray cat.  “Willow,” Nesta said, tears welling again.  “Willow, I missed you, kitty.  I love you.”  

Cassian carried her down the hall with the cat trotting behind and set her carefully on the bed then knelt to remove her shoes.  She sat watching him, the way the hair had escaped from its tie to fall across his cheekbone, his fingers undoing the straps of her shoes.  He pulled her to her feet and deftly flipped back the bedcover, then began unbuttoning her dress.  She pushed at him.  “I shouldn’t,” she said, and the words sounded uncomfortably loud in her ears.  “I have a mate.”  

“Yes, love, you do.  Me,” he replied, continuing to gently undress her.  Desire flared through her at the scrape of his fingers against her bare shoulders as he eased the dress down.  He picked her up and lay her down on the bed, then tucked the covers around her.  She grabbed his shirt when he tried to turn away, and tugged him down so his face was close to hers.  

“I want…” she couldn’t think of what she was going to say.  He waited patiently until she remembered.  “I want you to fuck me.”

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” he said, a smile in his voice.  

“But why not?”  She smacked him lightly on the shoulder.  

“You’re drunk.”

“Nah, I’m not drunk.  That’s just a…” Words were really hard to find.  “An excuse.  I’m not…I’m not a child.  Don’t you want to fuck me?”

He sat on the edge of the bed, cupped the side of her face in his hand, and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone.  “Yes, love, I do.  But not like this.”  She started to protest but he pressed a gentle finger against her lips.  “If you still want me to in the morning,  I promise I will.”  He rose then and left the room before she could respond.  Clinking sounded down the hall and she could hear Willow’s excited mews.  Lights turned out in the apartment, and then Cassian came back into the bedroom and set a glass of water on her nightstand.  He shut out the lights, but she could still hear the rustle as he removed his clothes.  Good.  Once he was naked in bed she could convince him.  But first, she would just close her eyes and rest for a minute.  She felt the bed sink under his weight, then his arms wrapped around her and pulled her against him.  In just a moment, she’d begin seducing him.  She just…needed…a…little…rest…

Bright as the Night Sky (Part 3):

Alright! Here’s the third installment! I’m going to try and post every two days but we’ll see how that goes! Please leave comments on this particular chapter and if you liked it or thought it was original! Quick shout out to a few of my recent supporters!

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Sections:

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Part 4:

Part 5:

Part 6:

Part 7:

Part 8:

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Part 10:

Part 11:

Part 12:

Part 13:

Part 14:

Part 15:

Part 16:

Part 17:

Part 18:

Part 19:

Part 20:

Keep reading

Sherlock Holmes x Reader: Let me get a McPick Two

Originally posted by whenisayrunrun

The hospital room was already becoming suffocating.

“There’s nothing in here that will cure my boredom and that’s ironic because this is a hospital!” You exclaimed, causing the men that were in the room with you to look towards you with the same expression.

The “Stop Complaining This Is For Your Own Good” expression.

“You are conscious of what happened, right, (Y/N)?” Lestrade asked, his expression forming a slightly worried one as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“We were sitting at a local restaurant called Andrew’s waiting for our presumed suspect to carry on with their daily routine. I was enjoying some chicken nuggets that I sadly never got to finish because we had presumed our suspect erroneously and the true criminal was in the restaurant, presumably watching me eat my nuggets, and when Sherlock figured it out a fight broke out and I became injured.” You listed in a monotone voice as you stared at the ceiling before you lowered your gaze to meet Lestrade’s. “I know what happened. Grazed by a bullet, my left wrist is sprained, and glass shards were embedded into my shoulder because I was pushed to the floor and I hurt myself. Oh! And my pride is bruised. Aside from that, I’m completely fine. I want to go home.”

“(Y/N), you got a concussion.” John explained in a soft voice as he turned to you. “You were given some medication already and we’re just waiting for the doctor to give you the all clear. Then we’ll go home.”

“We should’ve just gone straight home. Like Sherlock said.” You mumbled as you quickly took a glimpse of the man in the trench coat who clearly did not want to be standing inside a hospital room.

“Can I at least get my phone?”

“You need rest.”

“John, you’re killing me.”

Lestrade smiled a bit and shook his head at your antics. There was never a boring moment of the day as long as you were around. You had a fantastic way of seeing the world and an equally interesting mind. You had, without a doubt, become a wonderful addition to the team and one that Sherlock didn’t mind…much. He thought you had a refreshing quality about yourself, though you could be annoying a times, but the pros outweighed the cons.

He had been worried about your health. But he had also known that whatever ailments you had could be treated at 221B Baker Street and not in 3-108 hospital room.

The doctor took hours before visiting your room, much to the shared annoyance of both you and Sherlock. Lestrade had to leave but you made him promise to get you food next time you saw him; for your troubles, of course. You had spent the time making up riddles that Sherlock would find logical answer to but soon that become boring and John still held your phone in an iron grip.

“Hello, my name is Doctor Jacobs, I will be treating this lovely young lady tonight.” The doctor said as he shook John’s hand, your own, and he went to shake Sherlock’s hand though it was a fruitless endeavor as his interest was captured by his phone.

I wish I had my phone.’ You thought sadly as you looked at John.

“And how are you feeling today, Miss. (L/N)?” Doctor Jacobs asked with a smile.

“Great. Nothing Ibuprofen can’t fix.”

“Well, your x-rays are fine. There’s nothing that we have to worry about, no fractures, nothing that is a source of serious alarm.” The doctor said as he checked your records, causing Sherlock to slightly roll his eyes. He already knew that. “You will need to rest for a couple of days; give your brain some time to recover from the blow. You might experience of headaches and some nausea and that can be taken care of with medication. Now, pertaining to your other injuries, the bullet that grazed you, the area was cleaned to prevent infection and it wasn’t deep enough to require any stitches. The glass was also removed from your shoulder will need a little bit of treatment with prescribed medication.”

John had been paying more attention to what the doctor had been saying than you, honestly. You had noticed that the doctor looked a little like an actor from a show you liked and while you analyzed the comparison you leaned back into the pillow and enjoyed the comfort it brought.

“Is there anything else you need, Ms. (L/N)?” The doctor asked, snapping you out of your thoughts and into reality where the men in the room looked at you.

“Let me get a McPick Two.” You sang slightly.

Boredom had officially taken over your brain and that vine always made you giggle. Your answer made John smile.

‘Rest in peace, Vine.’ You thought as you giggled, thinking of other vines.

“She’s fine. When can we leave?” Sherlock spoke before the doctor questioned your behavior, which was normal for you when you had nothing to satisfy your ever wandering mind.

“I’ll ready the discharge papers.”

“Thank you, doctor.” John smiled as he shook the man’s hand once more before the doctor left the room. “Really, (Y/N)? Let me get a McPick two?”

You only giggled as you looked out of the window.

John watched as Sherlock observed you with an interest he only had reserved for you. John often wondered if Sherlock knew how deep his curiosity about you was or how much importance he subconsciously gave you; because he did care about you. Your mind was one of the most brilliant he had ever come across. The amount of information you could capture and hold was extraordinary though it meant that your mind often lost itself within itself and that is what Sherlock found to be the most magnificent.

“(Y/N), what are you thinking about?” The curly haired man asked.

“Captain Briggs, his wife, and young daughter departed from New York in the Mary Celeste on November 7th, 1872. They were expected to dock in Italy yet no one aboard were ever seen again as in the middle of the Strait of Gibraltar the ship was found with no signs of struggle. Everything was intact except the Captain’s log was missing. Just like the Lost Colony.” You synthesized. “Roanoke Island, some years after 1587, where its members were never seen again. You know, they say the natives believed that if you angered the island you became a part of the island. Amelia Earhart also disappeared in 1937 and the Mothman of West Virginia after 1967. Nemo disappeared too but his father found him. Wait, isn’t it going to rain tomorrow?”

A small smile found it’s way to Sherlock’s lips. His eyes even sparkled as he watched your brain quickly jump from one subject to another, identifying different situations that had at least one thing in common. Your mind worked fast; efficiently when there was a case that required your knowledge. You used a case to focus. Sherlock used it to cure his boredom.

“It is what is predicted, yes.” John commented.

“We should get plants and put them outside. They like rain. Are we leaving?”

“Yes.” Sherlock answered, still keeping his gaze trained on you. “April 13th, 1570 to the 31th of January-”

“1606. Remember, remember! The 5th of November, the Gunpowder treason and plot; I know of no reason why the Gunpowder treason should ever be forgot! The House of Lords almost went boom and King James I was suppose to be assassinated. Guy Fawkes. V for Vendetta. Natalie Portman. Padmé Amidala.  Darth Vader and the Empire. The Ottoman Empire existed for over 600 years before it came to an end in 1922.”

“As soon as we sign the papers, we’ll go home.” John said as he used his phone to check the time.

“The Great Pyramid of Giza were built by the 4th royal house of Egypt. They were autocratic rules who only delegated power to the members of the royal family but that changed when the 5th royal line of sun kings came to power. Horizon: Zero Dawn has a sun king. Avad the 14th sun king of the Carja tribe. He’s cool. Aloy reminds me of alloy, which is a metal made by the melting of two or more other metals and also a clothing brand for tall women.” You thought out loud as you stared out of the window once more.

There were times were the quickness of your mind connected the clues faster than even Sherlock at times (he only credits you with one as he claims he was only waiting for you to figure it out the rest of the times). It was one of the traits that he liked most about you and it made John smile as he saw Sherlock listen to your listless rambles and historical facts.

John noticed that he wasn’t going to comment on how you moved him out of the way and almost took a bullet for the detective. The fear had been shown in his body language as he looked over you while the ambulance arrived. He acted as if he did not care as if you were a source of annoyance for the consulting detective but you weren’t and John knew.

You made Sherlock happy.

HOW MUCH LONGER? pt 3 - Jason McCann

Check out part 1 and  part 2  by clicking here!

Part 4 will be up soon, along with another imagine!

Originally posted by emmasopheah


For what felt like the hundredth time tonight, my position in my bed shifted from my right side to my back as an agitated sigh escaped my lips. I hadn’t had a restless night in years, and tonight just seemed to have broken the streak, only difference was, this time, I had a reason for the disturbance of my sleep.

It’s been a week since Jason moved into my gang house and ever since he arrived, he seems to be the only thing on my mind. Clouding up my space to think logically and making it harder for me to keep my gang safe. Its dangerous honestly. If we got attacked, I wouldn’t be on my feet, not as alert as I usually am.

But tonight just crossed the line. Tonight, my mind was running marathons because of my thoughts and it was all his fault. Not just because I knew he was here, but I could also hear it, and not in a very pleasant way. The moaning coming from the room across the hall was beginning to make me so aggravated that I was honestly ready to stomp inside waving a gun around just to make them shut up so I can use whatever time left of the night to get some sleep.

Okay, and maybe I was a little jealous, but lets not get into that.

Just knowing that Jason - my ex boyfriend and the man I am still in love with - was in the room across from me, fucking his current girlfriend senseless was killing me. Especially when I realised that, that could of been me, if I had just stayed when he needed me instead of walking out, that would be me in there with him. Pleasing me, making me feel loved, and like I was the most perfect girl ever to be created. 

Because thats what Jason McCann can do, he can not only be powerful himself, but he can make you feel powerful. And I guess thats what made us so compatible, we both loved the powerful feeling each other gave off. 

But no matter how much I wish and dream - the reality is that I did walk out that night, and although I’m not one to believe heavily in God, I can’t help but feel this was my punishment for walking out that night. Having to sit here - in the comfort of my own house, listening to the love of my life pleasure another woman. A slut to be exact. A slut that he was in a relationship with.

I couldn’t bring myself to believe that he was in love with her, there was no way. His eyes didn’t have that glint, that glint he used to have when he looked at me. That glint that no longer exists. Instead, he looks at her more as if she was a peice of meat rather then a girlfriend, and is it bad to say that relieves me? But it might just be in my head. Maybe he does really love her and I’m just in denial because I don’t want to face the fact that he’s moved on and I haven’t.

Maybe. 

But that’s the thing. Life is a big fat ‘MAYBE.’ There is no yes, or no in life. There is no guarantee. Everything is just Maybe. Maybe this was how its supposed to end, with no one receiving what they wanted, everyone just feeling shit and unhappy in the end, or maybe things will turn for the batter and a miracle might happen.

but the chance of a miracle is near impossible, so I should probably begin readying myself for a depressing ending now.

Without even realising it, I had slowly began drifting off to sleep. And without hesitation, I allowed the blessing of sleep to finally take me in its arms until tomorrow, leaving the daunting thoughts for another day.




Bitter, the perfect way to describe my mood. And what better way to express that with a cup of straight, black coffee. Placing the kettle of caffeine back onto the machine after pouring a full cup, it was a slight surprise to hear a door opening and shutting upstairs. 

Who the hell is up at this hour? Only a gang leader would wake up before Dawn. And then it hit me, how could I forget? Jason is living here now.

Soft footsteps ceased to make there way downstairs, all before his perfect body slipped past the kitchen doorway, revealing his inked chest, shirtless. His eyes darted up in surprise at seeing me standing there, before his guard fell and he shook his head. 

“I always forget your up at this time as well.” 

I shook my head, running a hand through my slight bed hair. “Same here.” 

Without thinking, I stepped back and picked up the kettle, turning around to pour it into a coffee cup Jason held out for me. It was a habit, something we did when we were together. He would get a cup while I poured him coffee, it was so random but something we just always did. 

“Got any meetings today?” Jason mumbled, sipping on the same black coffee I drank. In fact, he was the one who got me hooked on the bitter drink. 

Although we both act like mean, careless criminals, we always felt like we could just drop the act around each other, no matter what happened in our pasts.

“Just one. An old Ally wants some land, gotta put the fucker in his place.”

He smirked, side glancing me from the cup he was sipping on before slowly removing the mug from his lips, swallowing the beverage with a loud gulp.

“You hungry?” I suddenly asked. 

His eyes flickered from the floor to my face, his expression blank and hard to read. 

“I’ll make pancakes if you want?” I added.

Slowly, his eyes squinted to slits as he eyes me. “Why?” 

“What do you mean ‘why’? Because I feel like pancakes and I thought I’d be nice and offer you some as well.” As I spoke, I began walking around the kitchen, picking out ingredients for the pancakes.

“Is there a problem with that?” 

“I mean, no its just-….” He trailed off, eyes wandering around the room.

“Just what? We’re not together anymore?” I scoffed. When he didn’t reply, I knew that was the answer. “Don’t be so up yourself Jason, I offered you pancakes not asked for your hand in marriage. I’ve moved on from you. Just because where Ex’s doesn’t mean I can’t be nice. I mean, where living with each other for god sakes, might as well make the most of it.”

It wasn’t an entire lie. I did want to make the most of it. I just….haven’t exactly moved on.

From the look in Jason’s eyes you could tell he was putting some effortless thought into what I had just said until his face fell flat once again, then slowly slid into a smirk. “In that case, I like Syrup on my pancakes.”




“Ah! Mr Brown, nice of you to finally join me!” I shouted in fake enthusiasm, glancing at the rolex watch on my wrist. “And your only an hour and a half late this time! This must be your new record.”

Brown smirked, placing himself in the leather chair opposing my desk, his men stepping behind him. “I tried to make it on time this time.” 

“No you didn’t.” I smiled, but there was no humour in my tone. “Everyone know’s your attempt of being fashionably late never works Axel. Stop trying.”

His smirk dropped, face turning red after being caught. “Now lets get to business. you want land? Well the only land you’ll be receiving from me is my foot, when it lands on your ass.”

“Mrs L/N, If I must remind you, you still owe me for the first drug deal you made. Remember that? When you were nearly shot. Who saved your life then?” He smirked. 

But I had the upper hand, I always did. They don’t call me most wanted for nothing! “Your right, I do owe you. Actually, I did owe you, not anymore.”

“My first drug deal was nearly 6 years ago, and If I recall, I repayed you many, many times.” i smiled. “Let’s start with when I saved you from Larson, and killed Harold for you. When you hired me to kill Michael, or what about the time I loaned you 50 grand for drug money? And lets not forget the time I -”

“Okay I get it!” Brown yelled, sighing agitatedly. 

“Good, so now that we’re both on the same page, I think it’s time you repaid your debt to me.” 

He visibly gulped. “And what would that be?”

“Well, I’m in need of a little upgrading. Not only do I have my whole gang in here but now an Alliance’s gang and I need some space.”

“So what’s it you want? You wanna send some gang members over to mine?” 

“Oh jesus no!” I laughed. “’I would never torture my gang members like that. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind a good torturing but only to the people who deserve it. What I want is your gang house.”

“What?!”

“You heard me. And If you didn’t get the hint, I just warned you - actually more threatened you. Get the fuck out of this state. You - and your gang.”

“But-”

I was quick to interrupt “Get out of north America, and If I see your face here again, its not gonna be pretty. Do you hear me?!” 

I was standing at this point, steam almost pouring out of my ears as I raged in fury.

“Y/N-”

“You don’t think I know you’ve been stealing from my warehouses?! Nothing goes unnoticed by me.” I gritted. “Now I’m giving you a chance to run because really, I should just shoot you, right here right now. Now either leave my office, and don’t come back, or make sure you double up on men and always look behind you, cause soon, your gonna have a bullet implanted right in that thick head of yours.”

Brown’s face was shocked, nervous and twisted in fear. Without another word, he nodded his head frantically trying to make hsi way out of the room. “Nice doing buisness with you!” i yelled as he made quick to scramble out of the room. 

Just as Brown left, Jason strolled slowly over to the door frame, leaning against the wooden post. “So…how was your deal?” 

“Great. Now that that part is over with, I’ll just get a few of my men to sneak back to his warehouse and eliminate him by tomorrow morning.”

“I thought you were letting him go.” He chuckled. 

“Nah, I just said that so he won’t suspect it. Hes less likely to put up a fight if he doesn’t see it coming.”

“Those words sound oddly familiar.” Jason sarcastically smirked. 

“They should, you taught me them.” I stated. 

“I know.” And like that, he turned on his heels to begin walking down the hall.

“Actually McCann!” 

“What?” He spat.

“Tonight, how about keeping it down. Your side hoe moans like a cow, its quite disturbing.”

Jason turned, a smirk on his face. “Why? You jealous your not getting any?”

“Hah! You wish. It’s just some people don’t enjoy falling asleep to the sound of a dying goat.” 

“You know, you gotta lotta hate towards my girlfriend. You sure that’s not personal?” He smirked. 

“Please McCann don’t flatter yourself.” I scoffed. “Just keep the fucking noise down tonight. Or rather, just leave it all together. Don’t you have any self respect?” 

“I do.” He smirked. “But my hand got kinda boring.” The smirk only grew as my face fell in discuss. A wink was sent my way before he quickly descended down the hall, leaving me weak at my knees from the wink that was only meant to piss me off.

anonymous asked: Sapphire’s post reminded me of Our Story! The most recent chapter wasn’t the last one was it?

Liv says: I’m calling this Chapter 8.5. It still ties into their second marriage, of course—I just couldn’t resist Julia and little Claire. And a massive thank you to @lenny9987 who is always willing to read my drafts and give me feedback <3 

Read Chapters One through Eight here.


Our Story

Claire has few memories of her mother, and those that exist are only half-formed. Hardly memories at all.

Rather:

Small blips of sight and sound and smell. Directionless aches in the night, skin raised to gooseflesh by a living darkness. Sometimes there is a vision of two fine-boned hands, their fingers playing the air with passionate arcs and flutters. At others, there are emeralds winking from pale lobes, and a whisper of bergamot on the stretch of neck below. Baby, a voice says, so clear but distant, it’s only for one night. We’ll be back before you—

Fragments.

Among these, however, there is one that is complete. It is something Claire parades at dinner parties, a piece of trivia that reduces her childhood to the first five years of her life. No funerals, no suitcases. No grief hollowing her little, avian bones. Only: Easy.

In this memory, Julia Beauchamp wears a sweater dress and Kork-Ease boots. Her heels are impractical for a stroll through the park, though that is what they are doing—strolling—as they have done every Friday since Claire could walk. It is just the two of them, mother and child, while her father toils in a dark mechanic’s shop, slicked with sweat and sleeved in black grease. 

He will return so deflated that evening—“Like my own bloody oxygen pumped the tires.”—that Julia will kiss the moons under his eyes, will regret not capturing the sun. And so the following week, when Claire remembers her father’s tired face, she will produce a drained Dasani and hold it skywards. Autumn seeping inside the bottle and then inside her pocket; the bright November gliding down Henry’s throat over an meatloaf dinner. (He will indulge his sweet daughter, drinking and drinking until the December day where he cannot; where Claire must pour the bottle over a mound of dirt.)

But while Henry tinkers with cars so, too, does Claire’s mother do her own work. Observing, absorbing, and storing the day away—right here, on this park path.

That is how Claire’s one full memory begins: their joined hands swinging, and their eyes taking. Dried leaves; flannelled backs bent over canoe oars. So vivid in her mind, even now.

But when Julia says, “Baby, how about we play our game?” young Claire breaks the hold and sighs.

At this point, it has been two weeks since the death of her four-year old self, a feat for which she feels a tremendous pride. With the simple opening of her palm, she can now present her age—Five! Can you imagine?—without ever bending her thumb. Her parents often overlook this incredible development in Claire’s life, still seeing her as the girl with four wiggling fingers, as the walnut nestled in Julia’s stomach. Baby, Baby, Baby.

Claire waves at her mother, as if to say, Five, Five, Five.

“Silly me!” Julia cries. “What I meant to say was: Claire Elizabeth. An honest mistake.”

The correction is enough to earn Claire’s forgiveness. She huffs a petulant “All right,” though she has been waiting for this all week, the moment when her mother’s words begin to change. Their game, with its stories she only sometimes understands, is the key to a world she is slowly (but surely!) approaching.

Claire looks around and searches for their first target.

“Him!” she says, pointing to a man grieving his damaged kite. It lies in the arms of an oak, speared but bloodless, and the protruding branch reminds Claire of summertime splinters. Those little knives of wood, which always wheedle beneath her toes when she dances across the porch, barefoot. (Julia is an expert at removing such splinters. No tweezers needed, just, All better?—and it is. Her fine-boned hands giving Claire’s feet their rhythm again.)

“My. He’s a bit of an odd duck, isn’t he?” her mother says, studying the old man. She tilts her head to the side, as if the angle will reveal the source of his almost-tears, his slumped posture, the very soul within. “Robert! That’s his name. Robert—Owner of Toy Shops.”

Claire giggles with excitement. This has always been her mother’s trick: the divining of lives from the smallest of glimpses. Julia has been known to call it Magic, though Claire has grown more skeptical since the dawn of October 20th. (Magic is, after all, a baby’s word.)

“He’s a recent widower. Do you see how he wears a ring but keeps watching the couple over there?”

Claire does see, and she drafts a mental note for school the next day: Tell Mrs. Heath that Mum is smarter than that scraggly bugger, Albert Whats-His-Face. 

“No children either. He and his wife…his wife…” And just as Claire remembers, Einstein! Julia cries, “His wife, Susan! Dear, dead Susan. Both turned off by the whole business of childrearing. Susan’s mother up and left when she was only three.”

“And joined the circus?”

“Yes. I daresay she joined the circus.”

“Poor Robert, Owner of Toy Shops,” Claire laments. “Poor Dear, Dead Susan.”

“Mhmm, such a shame. Poor Dear, Dead Susan didn’t stand a chance against those wretched measles.” (At this, Claire’s fifth year gives her a sudden rush of gratitude. For Dr. Rawlings, who once stuck her with a vaccination needle. For her mother, who covered the red dot with a Pooh plaster. All better.)

“But why is he flying a kite, Mum?”

“Why, indeed…”

This is a crucial part of their game: where Claire probes with further questions, thereby allowing a detailed history to form. No room for doubt when everything is fully realized—just the growing surety that maybe, maybe their guesses are correct.

“I’d wager he’s quite lonely now, and for the first time in his life, he’s regretting they never had children.” Julia’s voice is so confident, that Claire nearly forgets it’s all a game. Almost believes in the name and the wife and the unborn children her mother has given this sad, old stranger. “Flying the kite is a way to…conjure them into existence. A big What if? Rather maudlin if you ask me.”

Claire cannot make sense of these fancy, foreign terms—conjure? maudlin?—or why anyone would fly a kite for their nonexistent kids. Still, Claire nods, Of course, of course, and plans to comb the ‘c’ and ‘m’s of her father’s dictionary. Ask him, casually, for clarification. (And if Henry were here, he would temper his wife’s candor with a more age-appropriate fantasy; shake his head. Even to her own husband, her mother has always been slightly incomprehensible.)

“Baby,” Julia says, suddenly serious. “Claire. Don’t you dare live to regret a thing. Promise me that if something scares you, you’ll do it.

“I’m not scared of anything,” Claire announces (except spiders and cavities; except Father Christmas burning in the chimney and the night noises coming from her parents’ bedroom). “When Willie Burke stole Jacob’s sausage roll last week, I gave him a wedgie. And he’s two years older than me!”

“A wedgie? God, you are fearless!”

Keep reading

Forced - Request

Requested by anon: Dean x Reader OS about it. It’s basically the Reader gets raped but is too ashamed to tell anyone, but the boys figure it out eventually and comfort her.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word count: 2,212

Warnings: Rape, gore.

A/N: This is such a hard topic. Please, guys, if it’s your case you have to look for help. I know it can be embarrassing to admit, and to scary, but please look for help. It is the only way to fight back, and to stop that awful people. Sadly, in real life, there’s no such thing as a Dean Winchester ready to kill for us, so please defend yourself by telling the police or any figure of authority in charge of that.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by littleblondesamoan

Running away in that endless street, and the night is darker than ever, and the rain is heavy but not enough to hide her footsteps.  She can sense him coming closer, but she can’t tell where he’s coming from.

She knew it was a bad idea to go after him alone, she knew she had to ask for help from another hunter, but her pride was far too big and she had decided to put an end to his reign of terror once and for all.

If she had only known what kind of monster he was, maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have tried to stop him. Maybe she would’ve avoided the town or called the cops, or maybe she would’ve sent someone else – a male hunter – to kill him on his sleep. Because, truth was, humans were far worse than any other Supernatural creature.

He was morbid, insane, vulgar, disgusting. The kind of man one changes to the other side of the street, just so one doesn’t walk by his side. The vibe he expelled at plain sight was enough to reject whoever saw him.

So he decided that, to get his way, he would have to take it without permission.

In his brain, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He would break into women’s houses and apartments, he would capture them on the streets and drag them to dark alleys, or even so, get them so drunk at the bars they wouldn’t remember their name the next day – not that there’s ever a next day.

He was a supernatural fanatic. If one entered his house they would find all kinds of books, amulets, sigils, and other things related to the life (Y/N) and the rest of the hunters lived. Thankfully, he was still ignorant to the existence of such things.

Because of his fanaticism, the way he “got rid” of his victims seemed to be like some kind of monster had done it, hence, (Y/N) had target him as his next hunt.

When she arrived in town, she found out exactly who he was. She thought it would be an easy hunt, everyone blamed him for the murderers, and everyone ran away from him so, if he got killed, no one would care.

Humans can be real monsters.

Keep reading

You Can’t Fix What Ain’t Broke part 1

A/N: This is my first ever public writing. Don’t hate me (  *^_^)// I am extremely rusty as I haven’t written in yeaaaaaarrrrrrrssss. This was originally meant to be a one-shot but it kind of became longer than i anticipated. 

You Can’t Fix What Ain’t Broke part 1

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word count: 1,206 (oops so much for a one-shot)

Warnings: none?  its fluff and a tiny bit of angst (in the next part)

Bold Italics implies that’s the readers thoughts.

Originally posted by srogersxbbarnes

Tony had found you by chance when he took his motorcycle into your small specialized auto shop. He hated to admit it, but he couldn’t figure out why his prized British Vintage Black wasn’t running. He was Tony Stark after all; he had his name on top of the line tech anywhere and everywhere. It would be an embarrassment if anyone knew that he couldn’t fix a bike. 

“It’s not that I can’t fix it” he bluffed “I just have a lot on my plate, what with you know running a billion dollar enterprise and saving the world half the time.” 

“Don’t worry” you assured him with a smile “I won’t tell anyone you came to me.” 

After watching you work, and countless visits to fix things he didn’t “have time for” Tony decided that he would persuade you to join the weapons and tech division. “It’d just be a lot easier to just have you on site” he argued. You looked at Tony and laughed “And you wouldn’t have to worry about people finding out that you go to my shop to fix your…” “That’s beside the point Y/N,” he interrupted “the point is…I know talent when I see it. And I am not leaving this shop until you agree to come work with us.”

It had been about a year since you started officially working at the Avengers base. At first it was overwhelming, the worlds best tech at fingertips reach, things you couldn’t even fathom in your wildest dreams to exist. Not to mention, working up close and personal with the Avengers themselves. (Bruce Banner for goodness sake was working right across the table with you.) You took your new environment quickly, and everyone on the team took to you just as fast. Everyone that is, except for…Bucky Barnes.

You’d heard things about the Winter Soldier. A man who could single handedly changed the course of history. He came to the facility about 3 months ago straight from Wakanda where they had repaired and reattached his arm and taken him out of cryo-sleep. 

First day at the base, Steve had brought him around for a tour. You were hard at work with modifications for Sam’s jetpack when they walked into the lab. “And this is Y/N, she helps out with our equipment.” You looked up from your work at a visibly nervous Steve. Bucky looked anxiously around the lab and then at you. He couldn’t keep eye contact for more than 10 seconds, but in those 10 seconds you didn’t see a mindless killing machine in those stormy blue-gray eyes. You saw a man who was afraid of what he could do, what he’s done. Someone who was barely holding on as it was. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N, I look forward to working with you!” You smiled and reached out your hand to greet him but he shifted back. It dawned on you that not everyone was too keen on shaking the hand of someone with a metal arm. You withdrew your hand and put them both into your lab coat pockets, worried that you may have over stepped your boundaries. “Well if you ever need anything, please feel free to come to me. Maybe I can even help you modify your arm.” You laughed nervously.  Idiot you thought to yourself. You just met the man and you’re already offering to redo one of his limbs? Smooth, real smooth. “Thanks Y/N” Steve chuckled. “We’ll see you around, I’m gonna show Bucky around a little more.” “Oh okay! Well it was nice meeting you Bucky! I’m gonna get back to the ol’ grind…” The ol’ Grind??? Really Y/N? Really??? Steve and Bucky turned to walk out of the lab, you stared at the ceiling stupid stupid stupid. You face palmed. “It was nice meeting you” You peeked through your fingers and saw Bucky in front of you with his hand reached out to you. You smiled at him and took his hand for a firm handshake. “Same here” you beamed.  Bucky smiled softly before turning back to walk out with his friend.

3 months, 3 months since your first awkward encounter. Since then, Bucky would come in once a week in order to start working on his arm’s modifications. As much as you hated Hydra, you had to admit. His arm was a work of genius. A little outdated, but then again for something that was first created in the 40s, it was pretty technically advanced for its time. You would work very closely with Bucky, scanning, examining, and figuring out what made it (and him) tick. 

Working so closely with Bucky, you couldn’t help but begin to develop a crush on him. One day you found yourself inches away from his face while examining the line where his flesh and the metal connect. You could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle when you let a sound of awe escape from your lips. 

Conversations with him barely made it past a couple sentences, some days he would out right ignore you. But remembering that broken man you saw in front of you that first day, you made it your mission to help Bucky any way that you could. Some days he would slowly open up a little bit more, telling you about how he used to save Steve from getting pummeled every day or how some days he missed going dancing. His icy exterior was slowly beginning to melt away and you found yourself admiring him even more.

One day he came to the lab for his weekly check in, you were in the lab by yourself listening to some old school swing music. Bucky walked in to see you slow dancing with a new bow that you were working on for Clint. You didn’t even hear the doors slide close while you were swaying away with the new weapon until Bucky cleared his throat. You jumped out of your trance and accidentally swung the bow and broke a series of empty beakers you had lying on the table. You stared at the mess and then stared at Bucky with wide eyes. “Uhm…don’t tell Tony.” Bucky laughed to himself “Don’t worry Doll, I won’t tell anyone. Though I must say, the bow was quite graceful.” You laughed nervously, quickly going to get the broom and dustpan to clean up the mess you made. Could you BE any more of a dork Y/N? Jesus, this is why Bucky is never going to like you back, because you are an idiot. 

You bent down and began to sweep up the broken glass when Bucky came over with the dustpan and squatted down next to you. “Here, I’ll do it” he insisted. “Oh! Nonono it’s my mess, my dumb dance moves that broke it…” “There’s a lot of broken glass here Y/N, I don’t want you to get cut.” Bucky protested. You turned to glance at Bucky as he looked intently at the shards of glass on the floor, picking  it up piece by piece with his metal hand. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. He was sweet; a complete gentleman. This is the man they called the Winter Soldier? You bit your bottom lip as you admired his strong jawline and imagined planting a kiss on his cheek when he got up to throw away the glass into the trash can, snapping you out of your daydream.

Maybe, just maybe….maybe he liked you too, you thought.

That was until his next weekly visit.


tagging writers that i love (i hope you don’t mind!)

@nenyakj @viollettes @thatawkwardtinyperson @of-fishnets-and-black-lace @softcorehippos @papi-chulo-bucky @softwintersoldier @fictionalmemoirs @plumfondler @avengerofyourheart

SasuSaku Month 2017 - Day 7 - Love You Goodbye

Dear old angst people - no warnings except for Sarada’s cuteness and heartbreak

*^*

SasuSaku Month 2017 – Day 7 – Love You Goodbye


Sometime around noon, she knew that it was time. Time for him to leave for his mission. Sakura feels a heaviness in her stomach – one she didn’t feel ever since she was pregnant with Sarada. But this heaviness is different, unlike the pleasant, happy one she had when she was carrying her daughter this is like a mortal wound. The pit, voidal and heavy opens up and closes on its own accord.

It’s as if the grimness of Sasuke’s departure can be sensed in the house itself. Sarada cries more, begging for Papa, and Sakura eats less, Sasuke cowering on the old grounds of the Uchiha compound more. The old graveyard he shall see in a long time now. His daughter is almost always with him – asking no questions, she is nearly three, but nevermind that. Even when he was three, he would have loads of questions for Fugaku and Mikoto. Their graves have gotten old, Sasuke left a lot of money for Sakura to build a mausoleum, one his clan always deserved, nevermind what kind of people they were.

Sakura Uchiha would, after such a visit to the graveyard, bring lunch for Sasuke and Sarada, both entwining their hands happily to the giggle of their only child. Sakura feels her womb could carry more – Sasuke doesn’t even want to hear about it. He doesn’t want to even think about the possibility of Sakura and Sarada having to take care of another, alone.

At night they curl up to each other, last throes of passion they will allow to themselves before he departs.

Sasuke readies himself in the morning, and Sarada wakes up crying, from a nightmare, he supposes. He relates, night terrors of a different kind holding him wide awake.

()

Front gates. Dawn. A cloak and his dark, thick hair of equal color. Rinnegan bland and purple as always, but his Mangekyo Sharingan is activated, shining bright, reflecting the Sun and putting it to shame. Sakura’s throat is heavy and constricted as they come. Sarada is tired a bit, but it is as if she can feel the pain of her Papa leaving, even through too young to understand. Her bright red and orange clothing that Naruto gifted to her (saying it was too big for Hima) clings to her as she to her mother.

“Anata… I…” she cannot even finish the sentence, because if she does she will disturb Sarada, her small, yet incapable daughter needs her – strong, unbowed, unbent and unbroken.

Before all of her family, duty, honor came she.

Now it will have to be even before Sasuke.

“I have-” he struggles too. The look on his face is concentrated pain, like pure acid, eating all the present hearts alive and unsettling them with a scar. She starts crying because again. He is leaving again. He finally loves her back, comes back home, settles, has a child, and oh my god why is it that the most beautiful things in life were always defied to him, not to Sakura, she no longer cares for herself.

She put no makeup on her face this morning – so there is none to smudge; he told her not to, not in the haste of his departure but because he wanted to see her and memorize her fresh from bed, smelling as a morning rose, dragged her and the sleepy child out of their house in the break of dawn, Sarada sipping orange juice from her bottle, Sakura hadn’t even brushed her teeth.

But it was all his will and how he liked things – raw and real. He has dwindled all too long between illusion and reality in his life to be able to choose only one and pain seemed as a reasonable choice at the time, making him blind to the choice of the subtle life in Konoha with Naruto and Sakura.

He doesn’t regret it, even now, as his pink haired wife wails, chest heaving and hands shaking as he takes Sarada from her arms only to bring all three of them into a strong, strong hug. He wished he would never have to let go. He wished to tell the world to piss off so he could have his peace with his wife and daughter, but no. He was the Shadow Hokage, the protector from the dark, where Naruto couldn’t reach he had. So he lets go of Sakura, tears deep within him, waiting to fall when provoked and away from all humanity and Konoha, away from Sarada who, through the leaky pipes of memory must remember her father as someone who protects. He kisses both of their foreheads, doesn’t poke – not anymore, because he is certain. In everything.

That he will find out the truth about Kaguya. That he will come back to his family. That he will make it all okay. Voice heavy he wants to scream out how much he loves them both, how unfair this is, even if for a shinobi of his caliber it would be unheard of. He is drained, yet still breathing and alive. He will succeed. He has to, he reminds himself, as he wavers so, so much in this moment, as Sarada’s big, black eyes threaten to swallow him alive, then spit him out asking what kind of a father leaves their child so young?

Murmurs in Sakura’s tears and hair, wiping them, of his love, I love you and I am truly grateful. For everything. As her mother’s tears weaken and then gush over the eyelids in the aftermath of her emotion, Sarada waves her head, slightly unproportional to her body, and Sasuke wants to weep at the perfection of the imperfection. He doesn’t want to miss a second, and how much will he miss when Sarada changes day to day? He can’t bring himself close to the thought.

He picks up Sarada, who is tracing and even slightly pulling his hair and collar. She wants him to stay, or is it just Sasuke’s sick imagination?

“I love you both. And don’t you cry.” Sullenlly tells his hotheaded wife, as she clings to him, heartbroken. “God, Sasuke. I love you too. Do not forget it!” she reaches on her tippy toes to kiss his forehead, but he throws her off with a powerful kiss. He holds Sarada in that arm of his, his left non-existent as she caresses his face gently.

Please, Sakura, take care of yourself, too, not just our daughter.

He turns around to leave, kissing Sarada’s forehead with intolerable sadness. It will be a lot of time, this mission. He hopes to come home even before he has left, and as the doting eyes on his back mirror his family crest, forming a memory he emblazoned into the walls of his brain – soft footsteps his only company on the lonely path to justice.

anonymous asked:

You've made your disdain for onions abundantly clear, but what are your thoughts on celery?

Funny you should ask! I was just thinking about this. In the days before the dawn of humankind, the vice admiral of the Great Light looked out upon the Earth and smiled. So pleased was he by the creation of the Great Light that he sent out an invitation to all the vegetation on the Earth to a great feast he was to hold in his castle. He spent the next two weeks preparing, and on the day of the feast, all the vegetation showed up: cucumbers, plums, mint leaf, artichokes—all of them. There was a jovial air in the castle, and everyone enjoyed themselves talking, laughing, dancing, and feasting on the original food of the Earth (kestwa, malador, sweet disti, laffa, etc.). As they finished eating, the vice admiral raised his hands for silence. “My friends!” he said. “We have such a perfect existence, that I have decided to bestow upon you a great gift!” A murmur arose.”Today I give you the gift of flavor!” The murmur grew to a general roar of confusion, as no one knew what this meant. “This is a new concept, I know, but I will show you what I mean. Let us start with my good friend Pineapple!” And so the mighty pineapple stood and strode proudly up to the vice admiral. The vice admiral looked at him and said, “My dear Pineapple! Thank you for being you. I now give you…flavor!” There was a frisson as a smell and sensation rushed through the air: the original sensation of the flavor of pineapple. The attendants were overcome, and instantly started leaping from their chairs, unable to contain themselves and excited to claim their own flavor. The vice admiral laughed and raised his hands again, “One at a time, one at a time! I promise I will get to each and every one of you!”

And good as his word, so he did! He delivered sweet flavors to the mango, the strawberry, and the banana; fresh, crisp flavors to the apple, the cucumber, and the proud, proud carrot; earth flavors to the potato, the beet, and the radish; and even pestilential flavors to the durian fruit and the onion, who were somehow pleased by this. He continued on, giving a flavor to each and every vegetable and fruit and gourd and root, ending finally with the avocado, to which he gave the flavor “vague”. And at the end he said, “And so, my dear friends, I thank you for coming, and wish you a wondrous and beautiful future filled with fun and flavor!” And the vegetation cheered and thanked him, with tears in their eyes, pits, and kernels, and they all went back to their homes.

Now, what flavor did the celery get, you may ask? Perhaps I can answer this question by telling you what the celery was up to during the great feast at the vice admiral’s castle.

To put it bluntly, the celery was asleep. It was up all night worrying about what it was going to wear the next day (hint: the vegetation didn’t wear clothing, it not having been invented yet) that it didn’t sleep a wink, and when the time to leave came, the celery was sound asleep in the middle of its floor. And there it remained until late that night when all the other vegetation was returning. When the vice admiral realized the celery hadn’t attended, he was so hurt and shut up his castle forever, returning to the future whence he came, and taking with him the secret of flavor, which he gave to a character in a Futurama episode, who later shared it with Bender.

So, as for what flavor the celery got? None. It got no flavor. At all. As a result, it is less flavorful than plain water—even less flavorful than the vaguely flavored avocado which can win fans through hypnosis only.

So, to answer your question, what are my thoughts on celery? It is food. It is plain food. If I had to eat it to keep myself alive, I wouldn’t mind, because all it has is a texture. And strings. No idea why they decided to add strings to celery, but that’s not my business. It’s been observed and scientifically tested that you can feed celery to a sleeping human and they won’t notice. The celery’s favorite color is clear. If you give a stalk of celery to a cat it just confuses them. They asked a million American football fans what they preferred—a football game that ends in a tie or celery—and they went with ties in football because they were “more definitive”. Celery is used as a vehicle for peanut butter and crab salad because it’s considered impolite to eat either substance with one’s hands in public, and because with a spoon, it’s impossible to ensure party goers don’t double dip. The great thing about using celery for this purpose is that it has absolutely no flavor, so it’s the same as just eating peanut butter or crab salad—just with added strings to remind you that life is unfair. (Seriously, think about any other food on the planet where you’d say, “Damn! I want to put either peanut butter or crab salad on that! Doesn’t matter which, since this food goes with either peanut butter or crab salad equally well!”)

Now don’t take this to mean that I hate celery. How could I? How could any? They had to stop giving it to babies because babies exposed to celery in the first couple months didn’t realize they were eating anything, and had trouble thereafter recognizing what food was, and how eating worked. If celery were a person and you asked me to date it, I’d say, “I have no opinion”—and I’m married! I mean if it’s there, I guess I’ll take it, because boy howdy, do I love getting strings of stuff stuck in my teeth. How satisfying! It’s like, “Hey, girl! You want to feel like you came out of the bathroom after flossing but left some of that floss stuck in your teeth?” Sign me up for some of that!

But I guess the best thing about its lack of flavor is it doesn’t shove it in your face, you know? It’s an extremely subtle complete lack of flavor. It’s like if someone goes to an award show wearing a folded over bed sheet, but arrives in an unopened cardboard box, so you don’t even see the sheet—or the person. So you’ve got to hand it to celery for that. Like, good on celery for not being all showy about its total absence of flavor.

So those are some of my thoughts on celery. I have others, but this isn’t really the time or place to discuss them. Thank you for your query, and please have a wonderful day on my behalf.

Bluepulse Fanfiction Masterpost

perfect arrangementsIt had seemed logical, practical even, for them to become roommates. They were already familiar with the others’ annoying habits, they liked the same snack food, and they were comfortable around each other. It was the perfect arrangement, aside from one minor caveat. Bart fell in love.

False Dawn: It was his smile, his touch, his warmth… but it wasn’t him.Hollow, mind-numbing panic begins to percolate through Bart’s skin. His heart throbs, shuddering in attempts to break free of the prison his chest has suddenly become. The back of his throat tastes caustic from the hot surge of bile. He swallows it back down, clearing his throat. “How long?” Some part of his mind, the logical part, already knows, but he can’t accept it. Isn’t willing to. He wants to foolishly believe it hasn’t been that long, because that makes the taste of guilt milder, but he knows, he knows. Rated: M

Touch: Contrary to popular belief, Bart doesn’t especially like touching people. In the future, the more you kept to yourself, the less chance you had of angering the wrong person and finding yourself at the receiving end of a knife or a gun, or worse yet, a plasma cannon.It’s not that he likes touching people. He just likes touching Jaime. Whether it’s curling his fingers around Jaime’s wrist to get his attention, or slinging an arm over his shoulder, the feeling is the same. The brilliant, warm sensation of holding a sparkler from the wrong end, that’s what makes Bart want to keep touching Jaime. Rated: K

Fear of Falling: “Jaime?” Bart’s voice sounds absolutely wrecked; raw and hoarse, as if his lungs have been irreparably damaged from screaming. Smears of soot and grime discolor his pale skin, covering the parts of his face not protected by the mask. There’s a hollowness in his gaze. His eyes are a brilliant green with gold striations, but it looks as if someone sucked out all the life from them. They’re dull, matte, the kind of eyes one would find belonging to a corpse.“It’s okay,” Jaime breathes, expression hitched somewhere between pained and worried. “It’s okay.” (I’m okay.)“T-they said one of the squads got captured,” Bart whimpers. Jaime’s not sure why Bart’s relaying all of this to him. After all, he received the very same speech from Aqualad. Hearing it again is tedious and unnecessary. Still, he keeps silent. “I thought it was yours."  Rated: M

Do You Remember, Did You Forget: He knows he isn’t real. He knows he doesn’t exist. But still, he dreams. Reincarnation AU. Rated: K

12 Days of Bluepulse: Christmas prompts for twelve days of ficmas. 

Timeworn Vestiges: (Harry Potter AU) Jaime’s gaze flitted from Bart’s wide-set green eyes to the object in his hand. Suspended from a tarnished chain was a minuscule pendant with an hourglass affixed to its center. Bart’s knuckles were paling from gripping it so tightly, clutching it as if it were his lifeline, or the most precious thing in the world. "Is that—?” “A time-turner." Rated: T

Rumor of Us: Bart comes out to Wally whilst seeking relationship advice.

I Have a Tromboner For You: Highschool AU where Jaime’s in the marching band and Bart’s on the Track Team. Basically, awkward dorks being awkward dorks.

Coffeeshop AU: A little drabble of what would be a super cute AU.

Bank-Vault Revelations: Trapped in a high-tech vault that Bart can’t phase through, and Jaime’s armor isn’t compatible with, they spend the time sorting through their feelings… in various ways. /suggestive eyebrows/ Rated: T

The ‘Previous Engagement’ Ring: Bart doesn’t quite grasp the concept of wedding traditions, and it doesn’t help that both he and Jaime are late to their own wedding. Rated: K+

Heavy Heart, Heavy Lungs: Bart’s heart feels too heavy in his chest, and he hates that he gave himself something to lose. Moded!Jaime. Rated: T

Hum of a Heartbeat: (Uncompleted) A broken shadow. A buried past. A lesson written in bloodshed. Suddenly everything Bart Allen escaped from comes rushing back, but this time things will be different. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3. Rated: T

Black Boot: His heart plummeted. It took all the willpower he could muster to focus his eyes on a broad, black boot without sprinting in the opposite direction. Time travel is catching on, apparently. Rated: K+

Arachnophobia: "So you have a fear of all bugs?” Jaime inquired, mildly surprised. Blushing, Bart leaned close to his ear and murmured, “Well, I don’t so much mind beetles anymore.” Rated: K

Fear Toxin: The Team is exposed to Scarecrow’s fear toxin, though some are affected more than others. Rated: T

Morality and Mortality: “Blue.” Bart can’t help the hopeful edge that seeps into his voice. He knows that Jaime is gone, Jaime is dead, but sometimes facing the monster that is reality is too hard. Moded! Jaime Rated: T

Champurrado:  Comfort fic, ethnic drinks, kisses, this is a terrible summary. Rated: K+

A Penny For Your Thoughts: Warning: May not contain plot. Spoiler: Does not contain plot. Rated: K

Hunger Games AU: unoriginal fic is unoriginal  Rated: T

Was this a date?: Yes, this most definitely was. Rated: K+  

First Kiss: When the need for oxygen finally kicks in, their lips pull away, but their bodies don’t. Rated: T

Scars: Bart inhales sharply, but Jaime doesn’t take notice. He’s too enraptured by the crosshatching of scars on the speedster’s otherwise smooth body. Rated: T? K+? Like I have any idea how ratings work. 

13 Things: It’s after Bart’s sped through his vows, and hundreds of eyes fixate on him, that Jaime freezes. ~Bluepulse wedding~ Rated: K.

Caught the Bug:  Just a little drabble where Milagro and Khaji pick on Jaime. Rated: K

Broken Toy: Onmode!Jaime notes that it’s no fun playing if they’re already broken. Rated: T

Second Chances: A fatal injury, and the knowledge that the future is now out of second chances. Rated: T

First Valentine’s: 'Soft.’ Despite the number of times Bart had watched Jaime bite his lips raw out of stress or nerves, his lips were unbelievably soft. So much for boycotting Valentine’s Day. Rated: K 

Running:  For someone who finds running easier than breathing, the only question weighing Bart down is 'how long can he keep running?’ Rated: T

Capture: Bart is captured by the Light and Jaime feels at fault. Rated: K+ 

This is a masterpost for my Bluepulse fanfictions, in case anyone is interested. I’ll continue to update this as I write more. You can also find me on FFN and AO3. Thanks for reading, and for all the prompt requests ^.^