#the scene where she finally frees herself from papa

[emblazons]

"Now I know the truth. It is not me. It is you. You are the monster."

Eleven (El) Hopper in Every Episode - Season IV

character start!bonus:

#el hopper every episode #eleven #el hopper #eleven hopper #stladies #thepartysource #stranger things #stedit #making these lowkey made me cry i can't even pretend they didn't #the scene where she finally frees herself from papa #the ones where she talks to vecna #GOD #she had such a great season?? #I'm so irritated dumb people make it about her and Mike LMFAO #bar for bar she had SO MUCH GROWTH #in every episode #my gifs #the me tag #tw: flashing gif

[stardancerluv]

The Past Follows Like Your Shadow

Part 5

Summary: We see some Gator’s life…good bad..

Notes/Warning: 18 & up!!! In this chapter I do a version of the scene where they discuss with Munch failing to get Nadine. Violence ensues (Gator’s arm is broken..and a few implied un - alivings) Gator gets sick..not vivid description. Some of the dialogue is right from the show.

Wanted to show some of Gator’s au life. And realized that flashbacks will be a staple to show the past.

❤️, reblogs, comments & feedback are welcome!

Annoyance was bubbling in him as his keys jangled in his hands. Easily, he opened the front door, the smell of stew and giggles reached him. As he turned to close the door, a hush came from where the giggles had floated from. He rolled his eyes. He hung up his baseball cap then his harness.

Soft footfalls came up from him behind. He stiffened as arms wrapped around his middle. They squeezed him. He patted one of her hands.

He turned to look down at the poofy mess of her hair and big, bright eyes that shone up at him.

“Papa called.” He hated that she referred to his father like that. “He said you need to call him when you get in.”

“Alright. I’ll do that and then I’m taking a shower. How long will the girls be here?”

“Don’t you wanna say hi?” She squeaked out. “There’s been some big news.”

“I asked a question.” He felt his jaw grow tight.

“Oh! Sweetpea, don’t be stern.” She reached up and patted his chest. “Just a little longer. We are having some good games tonight, I already won a dollar.”

He rolled his eyes. “Congrats, sugar baby.” He eased his tone.

She brightened at his pet name for her.

“Now tell me.” He attempted a smile. “What is the big news?”

She giggled. Her eyes bright as the candles that flickered in the jack o lanterns on their steps.

“Y/N, is back in town. You know the girl who slept her way through the football team and even one or two of the cheerleaders.”

He pressed his lips together. He could still taste you from the hungry kisses you shared.

“Oh?” He shrugged. “Is that all?”

She happily nodded.

“Alright, I’m gonna go shower.”

“So you’re not going to come say hello?” She withdrew her arms from around him, and hugger herself. She chirped, rocking on her heels.

“Nah, been a long day.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Alright.” Before he could stop her, she came in for a kiss. He did manage to move and her overly sticky lip gloss hit his cheek.

Nodding, he felt like he had to climb up the stairs to the shower. The shower curtain rings scrapped against the rod, as he pushed the curtain aside so he could turn the knobs. He’d turn up the heat, to distract from not being able to share his bed with you.

When the two of you were kids, you managed to do it twice. Their friends had backed up their alibis; to be fair his friends were afraid of his father and so were yours. It didn’t take much to convince your friends for help.

After pulling off his boots he stripped off his camo pants and shirt, he left them in a heap beside the bath tub. Leaning against the small white pedestal sink, he sneered at his refection, before the steam ate it away.

If that asshole Tommy had not gotten wind of the two of you, maybe life would be different right now.

He groaned as the needles of the hot water prickled his back. Eventually, the water finally beat hard enough to relax him. Finally, allowing him to slouch under the water. He easily soaped of up his body and face, before washing his hair free of the gel.

*******

The sheets were crisp when he pulled them aside and he climbed into bed. He was grateful, to have this quiet moment alone.

Throwing an arm over his eyes, he remembered how he had placed his hands over his eyes as you stripped down to panties and bra before climbing into bed with him. That had been the first time.

You both were a giggling mess. You had shivered as you climbed into the bed beside him; so without thinking, he wrapped his arms around you. He had been too nervous to look down between the two of you. His body certainly knew what he was holding onto. It made the two of you giggle more before you both grew silent for a kiss.

His body reacted again, just as fast remembering how you just looked as he pressed you into the sofa tonight. Still as curvy and beautiful as ever. The sounds you made, he had to bite the inside of his cheek.

The door creaked open, he rolled away. Lights from the hallway hit his eyelids as it poured into the room.

“Don’t forget to turn the light off.” He mumbled and squeezed his eyes closed tighter, if it was even possible.

********

Roy’s words rang in your ears. “You whore of Gomorrah. Get away from my son.” He then tore the blanket away from the two of you, very fast.

You had never been more relieved it was the dead of winter. Gator was like your own furnace, but you both had decided to wear your pajamas. You had heard sometimes people slept naked when they liked each other, you couldn’t imagine what that was like. Sleeping, even with a t-shirt felt almost too naked.

“Father, stop.” A slap rang out. You immediately looked in Gator’s direction, even in that shadowy bedroom, you could see tears glisten in his eyes.

Roy was cloaked in darkness. He looked taller and meaner then usual.

“We’re adults, can’t you just leave us alone.” You hiccuped out.

“The whore speaks.” You saw him raise his hand and you shrank back into your bed.

His father was supposed to be in the next town over investigating a robbery and your parents were in the big city celebrating their anniversary. You would have snuck, Gator out by dusk and he would have rode his bike home. No one would have been the wiser. Your life after that went from tough to bad.

*****

You pushed the memory away. Sighing, you rolled over in the scratchy sheets. Aunt Mavis did not believe in fabric softener. You’d go and get some tomorrow.

Licking your lips as you closed your eyes, you could still taste Gator and mixture of something else, probably that damn vape. You wondered when he had picked that habit up.

Sleepiness began fall over even with the delightful ache between your legs, that made you already want more. Did that make you a horrible person? Were you finally the whore that Roy called you all those years ago. Mary Sue, had always been picture perfect but with a nasty heart, that was probably why she hasn’t been able to take Gator’s seed. You chuckled in the darkness at the thought.

He better not think that now that you are back in town that you’d mother a child for him, to help him carry on the Tillman name.

The velvety darkness of sleep began creep up you. Your eyes grew heavy, as you wondered what was it that he wanted. You would be finished with your aunt’s house by the end of the month, at the very least. And hopefully this time, you’d never come back; even if he looked and felt even better above then you could have ever imagined.

What exactly did Gator want from her. you pushed away the past. You didn’t happily embrace any of this new development, but you were secretly very pleased to know how Gator felt above you again.

******

“Why you want the tiger?” The man garbled out.

It was hard to resist rolling his eyes, or tapping his foot as his father and the older man spoke.

He’d be lying if the man creeped him the fuck out. The way he spoke, his demeanor it didn’t sit right with him.

“She’s my wife.”

“Don’t tell him shit. I already said I can handle this.” He looked up at his father from under the brim of his cap. “We know where she lives now. Her alias.”

He placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back. He looked down. Why did always have to demean him in front of others. Annoyance began to bubble in him. He was his son. He should treat him as such.

“She made vows to me.” Roy Tillman continued. “A pledge. In sickness and in health. Consider it a debt unpaid leaving me in limbo. Husband yes or husband no. See she hid from me nine, ten years ago. Interest accrued. Until the debt could no longer be paid with money.”

Roy paused and glanced at him. He resisted making a face. Behind his back he clenched and unclenched his hands.

“If a man is pure, his actions are only ever good. You believe that?”

“I’m a nihilist.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” His confusion got the better of him. He gestured to the old man.

He slid him a look. It gave him a chill.

“I believe in nothing.”

“You believe in money.” Roy immediately replied.

The man made a face.

“Well, thanks for your help.” Roy added. “Go on with Gator, he will make sure you get paid.”

“Dad?” He was confused. Why would they still pay him after he failed to deliver Nadine.

“Original plus pain and suffering.”

“Sure. Of course. Take it out of the rainy day fund. Take him to the fix ‘em place.”

Unease filled him. He knew what that meant. He didn’t particularly like the idea. But the old man had annoyed him enough. So in the end, who the hell cared.

He gestured for the man to follow him. “Come on, numb nuts.”

“The man is grateful.” The old man replied.

He left the shadowy recesses of the riding pen and walked into the bright day. It oddly comforted him.

He shook his head when he man bent to retrieve the cigarette he had left smoldering earlier.

Leading him to shed was going to be easier then he expected. Almost made him feel relieved. But until this man was gone, he would not relax. Gator inwardly smiled seeing his father’s men prepared and ready. This would be over soon.

The man stopped and took a pull on the cigarette, squinting at him.

“What?” He spit on the ground besides the man’s boot.

When the man didn’t budget, he patted him on the arm. “Hey, hundreds ok?”

A bird distantly chirped, he glanced at it and then back at the man. He didn’t say anything but turned away from him and began to walk again. Once he was few steps away, he finally pulled his gone from his holster. His blood pumped hard in his ears.

“Surprise.” A smirk curled his lips.

The man with no warning lunged at him. He a shot went off. The man grabbed him and got a hold of his gun. Within a breath, still holding him, the man took out two of his father’s men with his gun.

“What are you gonna do now?” He didn’t have time to get scared. He just started right back at those dark eyes.

Distantly, he heard the man toss something, must have been his gun. The man drew even closer, he refused to move. Next thing, he felt a twist and then felt something give, something snap and a scream erupted from him as pain exploded within him.

Not realizing, he had closed his eyes he opened them and the man was gone. He slumped to his knees, the ground felt softer then it ever has; his arm hung loose, beside him. Bile, hot and acrid shot up his throat and he threw up on ragged grass and dandelions in front of him.

“What the fuck happened?” Roy’s sharp voice came from behind him. Blinking in his father’s direction, he was crotched low to the ground with his gun drawn in front of him.

He coughed and spit out the bile that tried to coat his mouth. “Got the damn drop on us. He killed Bob and Lester.” He coughed again.

“Fuck.” His father muttered and walked away.

“What about me?” He called after him.

“Get yourself patched up. We got work to do.” He didn’t even glance back.

*******

The wooden floor boards shone, the wood was warm and comforting once again. The water and soap had to be changed three times. It made you wonder when she last mopped.

When the bell from the dryer rang out from the basement you smiled. Fresh, soft sheets would now be smoothed across that large bed. You could sleep and not have to wear layers for risk of rubbing your skin red with irritation.

Smiling, you laid back with your hands behind your head. You had won a victory with those sheets; they had put up quite a fight.

It had been a good day. The floors were clean, the curtains no longer gave off clouds of dust and the bed, despite still being a very lumpy with soft sheets and blankets you could be sleep on more comfortably. Perhaps, you would actually cook today. You had stocked the fridge. Could be fun, a gas stove wasn’t too difficult to understand.

@delikaitxx @keerygal (hope you don’t mind!)

#joe keery #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery imagine #gator tillman #gator tillman fic #gator tillman imagine #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman angst #fargo fx #fargo s5 #fargo season 5 #your past follows you like your shadow #part 5

[momorelis]

I know I already pointed out how Eleven actually planned to break up with Mike at the pizzeria. But I forgot to highlight why.

The desert scene

See, out of all of the people, it was Papa that made her understand some things about herself.

He told her how he did all of this only to protect her. Except she doesn't need protection. Not anymore. And that was precisely the moment she realized that.

Notice how after he told her that, she raises her head and looks to her left. That was where Mike and the rest of the Cali crew were standing. They never really showed Mike's perspective because only this way producers could actually highlight the moment when Eleven finally sets herself free.

From Papa. From Mike. From everyone for that matter.

Papa, defusing this monstrous device around her neck, gave her back her freedom and it was about time she does the same to herself.

I just find it interesting how after confronting Papa, she went from this:

to this:

Now, fast forward to the "I love you"/hospital/Hopper's cabin scenes.

El refused to talk to Mike at the end of a season because she was straight-up mad at him.

However not just because he lied about loving her. But because his lie had real consequences this time.

Max's heart stopped for over a minute, which is approximately how long Mike's trashy ass speech took. He wasted her time, he distracted her with bullshit she didn't want to hear in the first place. She only released herself from the veins out of pure frustration and the need to save Max at all cost, not the determination that Mike was trying to deliver to her.

Notice how in the hospital, they were lowkey fine. She needed comfort, he gave it to her. Simple human decency.

But once Lucas brought up the heart-stopping incident, her eyes not for one second left Max's unconscious body. Not even when Mike was staring at her face expectedly.

And now, let me present you these two parallels, to support my theory:

The first scene happened right before the confrontation with Papa, when she still felt dependent on Mike.

Although in the second scene, she already knew that from now on, she only depends on herself. She cannot let herself get distracted anymore. Because she can't afford letting Max down, not again, not ever.

[and don't get me wrong, this is not my attempt to make it about elmax, anyone close to her could be laying on that hospital bed, and Eleven wouldn't feel any different, the decision has been made]

[also, to be fair, the first part of his speech was fine. and she thought so too. she even laughed about the oversized t-shirt moment. but then the superman slap came and she realized how he built this whole monologue for nothing. so initially, it was still unnecessary]

#stranger things #mike wheeler #jane hopper #stranger things season 5 #byler #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #the amount of times i rewatched this show to make my analysis is almost unhealthy #but i regret nothing

[into-september]

"Buddy Daddies" IS better than Spy x Family, but it left me with questions

First and foremoest: who is the audience?

I'm wondering because the concept screams of either seinen or fujo, but the foucs is run-of-the-mill shounen. We're throwing our heroes into a situation where they're forced to ask prickly questions about their values and their life choices, and we've got them making the expected discoveries and the obvious choices from that, but no effort is made to dig into the real question:

Why do Kazuki and Rei choose each other?

There are two possible answers to that question: One is a life-changing backstory, and the other is gay. And the singular thing keeping "Buddy Daddies" from greatness is that it never answers.

They're partners because reasons. They're living together because something about couch-surfing idk. They met each other when they were both at rock-bottom crossroads, but did minimally to pick each other up from there. How much do they even know about each other? They certainly don't seem to be particularly invested in why the other has lost at life. As the story begins, they're hardly coming across as friends, and to what extent they end there, it's because of the way Miri influences them, separately.

As such, Miri herself is little more than a plot devices setting events in motion. Too young to be a focal consciousness in a story centred on adult questions, the story never dwells on her and the harrowing experiences she goes through with little more than laughing. She's repeatedly separated from three different parental figures and meets that with nothing but the joy of a reunion, because of course she's not the interesting figure here. That'd be the daddies.

By the end, Rei wants them to be a "real family", but why does that family include Kazuki? By all accounts, that was just some co-worker crashing at his place and who dragged in a kid who changed everything. The show never once questions whether their family will involve anyone more or less: it's Kazuki-papa and Rei-papa and Miri; no talk about any possible new mamas except for the very first and the very last scene, nothing said about why Kazuki and Rei take it for granted that the other wants to raise this child with him.

And the thing is, the thing is, the answer is RIGHT THERE. Kazuki obviously thinks he cannot have the family he wants thanks to his job, or doesn't deserve it thanks to the same; Rei has been raised into the same job, deprived of any kind of parental love and is repeatedly told to "cast off" that weakness. What stands between them and the thing they want (Miri) is their profession as hitmen, albeit from radically different angles for them both. But the show never has them question their life outside of society; only when they lose Miri over it do they truly acknowledge that raising a child is incompatible with being a professional murderer, and even then they never reflect on what their career choice says about what kind of people they are.

It's a gimmick and an easy ticket to action scenes, but it is never challenged. We don't know why Kazuki chose this path and why Rei never broke free before, and when they decide to leave it, it is with the same narrative shrug as their choosing to make a family with another guy who they by all accounts isn't involved with.

And it is frustrating because they show - particularly in its latter half - seems to be hanging on the cusp of diving into it, in connecting the threads between these two lonely men with their differently ruined lives, their different pursuits of a violent lifestyle and the way this would explain why they'd each come to step out of it because of one little girl.

Don't get me wrong - the show is cute and the finale is satisfying in nearly every way I'd expect it. It's just so close to being super memorable, rather than another action-comedy buddy show.

If you want a show where Koki Uchiyama voices a gangster princeling forced into the choice between loyalty to the clan and the sweetness promised by his found family, where the questions about choosing a life of murder are pursued to their ugly end and where twelve episodes are plenty and then some for explaining why these kids are choosing each other, then let me tell you about our lord and savior kunihiko ikuhara and the buttplug kappa magical boy anime

And that one is not afraid to say gay

#buddy daddies #blah #animation #sarazanmai #Youtube

[children-of-epiales]

Conversation

(The night Lara’s parents decide talk about leaving Poland)

26 June, 2008

     As her parents converse in the next room, Lara remains in her so-called secret spot, her back and head pressed against the wall and her legs folded up so they don’t cross over into the light. 

“ Scotland? Dear, there are so many countries in the world-why would your brilliant mind wander back to the United Kingdom?” Roxie demands in an exhausted tone. 

“ It’s just a suggestion, Diantha.” Arkadiusz reminds her, the sigh he lets out immediately after giving away that he, too, wants to be done with the conversation. “ I agree-our daughter should get to experience something new, but I don’t want her to be completely overwhelmed. Please, don’t act like you’ve forgotten why we’re discussing this.” 

The Irishwoman’s shoulders sink upon hearing the reminder. 

Lara’s eyes grow and she readjusts herself against the wall, shifting slightly further away from the entrance to the living room. If it wasn’t for why she’s decided to eavesdrop on her parents in the first place, she would be covering her ears as well. 

“ Of course I’m worried about her.” Her mother confirms. “ Don’t act like you’ve forgotten you’re the reason I haven’t killed that boy for punching Lara in the eye the other day.” 

Arkadiusz cannot hide how easily the scene reappears in his mind. He closes his eyes before he can see his wife’s grin. 

The brunette reaches up to touch the skin right below her eyelashes, having seen in the mirror earlier that the skin around her eye is still faintly bruised. The words he and the others shouted at her start to echo in her head again: Diabeł! Wróć do piekła, Diabeł! Nie należysz tutaj!

“ Maybe we should move to Scotland…” 

Roxie’s words break Lara free from the fog; she covers her mouth just in time to hide her gasping, the idea of moving never having crossed her mind before. She then decides she is unable to continue listening due to her chest feeling as if it has been torn wide open. 

“ I know it’s been a long week-” The Pole reaches for his wife’s hand; he kisses it, “-but we both know we’ve been avoiding this conversation. This was supposed to be where Lara was supposed to grow up.” 

“ And they took all of that from us.” Roxie states dryly. 

“ It’s late, let’s go to bed.”

The couple consider moving, only to freeze when they hear their child run upstairs. Lara closes her bedroom door much less gently than she desires, and Roxie can’t help her head falling into her hands. 

“ I’ll go talk to her-” Roxie tells her husband immediately. 

Arkadiusz stands up instead, one of his hands finds and squeezes his wife’s shoulder. “ No, no, you should go to bed.” He reassures her, “ I’ll speak to her.” 

The Pole follows the Irishwoman upstairs, waiting until she enters their bedroom before he goes to their daughter’s room; he knocks lightly and waits what he hopes is a minute, then enters the dark room. 

Arkadiusz closes the curtains first. He pauses, his head following the sound of the weeping, his knees slowly giving out so as to not make so much noise and lifts the end of the comforter up. 

All the way at the other end of the space, Lara lies curled up; her soft crying forces the warlock to crawl over to the head of the bed, Arkadiusz lifts up the cover. “ Proszę wyjść tam, Lara.” He pleads. 

He watches the girl freeze up, quick sniffs and deep breaths follow. “ Nie chcę, po prostu zostaw mnie w spokoju.” Lara presses herself further against the wall, she shuts her mouth in an effort to stop making sounds all together. The pains in her chest, unlike the sounds, do not come to an end. She cannot ignore them nor pretend the pain does not exist. 

Arkadiusz rests on his side, his hand extending as far as it can under the bed and keeps it there. 

Time seems to stop; Lara senses this, she knows she couldn’t avoid her father for long, even if she wanted to. 

“ Why are we leaving our home, Papa?” The girl finally gives in. “ I didn’t do anything wrong-I don’t think I did. I was trying to…” There’s nothing she can think of that would make sense to her father, with how many times he promised her that the kids who despised her so much were never Lara’s fault. 

Reassurance, her father promised her many times before, lasts for quite awhile. What he didn’t think of was that the magic that came with said reassurance had eventually worn off. That, and Arkadiusz taking her to school most mornings so the kids themselves and their parents had time to consider his imposing size; it was all he could do, the warlock couldn’t go to class with Lara and continue to be big and scary. 

“ This will be for all of us, moje Serce.” Arkadiusz blinks as his daughter almost hits her head turning so she could face him. “ Could you please come out from under the bed, Lara-I don’t want you to knock yourself out.” 

The girl eagerly climbs out from under the bed. “ Why do you want to leave Poland?” Lara immediately asks her father. 

“ Me? Oh well-well for me I suppose there’s nothing here for me anymore.” Arkadiusz responds. He could never get away with lying, not even with Lara. “ I do love Poland, the people I grew up with and the city-but it’s time for something new now.” He won’t say he’s made the decision to leave before, that there was nothing left for him in the country before, and he certainly couldn’t admit he came back for Lara’s sake. 

“ And Mama?” 

“ Moje Serce, you will have to ask her.”

He takes the few seconds he has to study the girl, while she contemplates actually wanting to ask her mother about the situation; besides how obvious it seems that Lara would prefer to avoid the topic around Roxie, Arkadiusz notices some sort of relief on her face. Possibly that she herself isn’t the reason he and her mother decided it would be best to move. 

“ We should have told you sooner-” He acknowledges when it becomes clear that the idea went right over his and Roxie’s heads, “ we just wanted to make sure we spoke about it before telling you. I’m sorry, Lara, if we made you feel like this was-” The words stop coming out because Arkadiusz cannot say “your fault”  to her face. He knows she knows what he means, to him it’s important that she knows that no one is blaming her for anything. Because Lara hasn’t done anything wrong. 

Arkadiusz carefully reaches and wipes a tear from Lara’s cheek before it can run. He remembers the principal’s words about the situation, the moment he and Roxie entered the office, the warlock was recognized by the now-elderly teachers. 

They were able to connect two-and-two better than the principal, who insisted there was no need to press charges against the students who chased after Lara the day before. That it was all a misunderstanding.

Roxie wanted to kill the kids. While the idea seemed a little extreme to the warlock, despite the situation, he knew the family would not be leaving Poland without expressing their dissatisfaction with the school and the children who should have been held responsible. No matter that people were wary of them before. 

Lara standing up snaps the warlock out of his thoughts. He rises as Lara sits on her bed. “ I know you said it already, Papa…” The girl says wearily. “ But, it isn’t my fault that we’re moving? I didn’t cause anything bad to happen for you and Mama, did I?” 

Arkadiusz shakes his head. “ I promise you, Lara.” He adds. “ Now, you probably already heard me say this-but it’s very late. You try and get some rest tonight, in the morning all three of us will talk about moving together, alright?” 

Not wanting to object, Lara lays down while her father pulls the covers up and over her.

*****

Translations:

Diabeł = Devil

Wróć do piekła, Diabeł = Go back to hell, Devil

 Nie należysz tutaj = You don’t belong here

Proszę wyjść tam = Please come out from under there

Nie chcę, po prostu zostaw mnie w spokoju = I don’t want to, just leave me alone

Moje Serce= My Heart

*****

Tag List: @poisonedtruth

#fic #Lara Darling-Jóźwiak #this is in present tense i hope its not confusing #i wanted to try something new #Child!Lara #lots of translation #bc Lara's papa speaks to her in Polish A LOT #cw: bullying #cw: mention of violence #if Lara sounds younger than she is #sorry but she's like 11 in this fic #she called her mom and dad Mama and Papa for a long time so

[legends-live-in-memories]

First Impressions

AYO its ya girl! let me pretend i didnt fall off the face of the earth for the entirety of july and august as i slide you Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Day 1- Meeting for the First Time 

Maribat Masterlist AO3 @maribat-bdbwm

Word Count: 1.2K words

Summary: 

Marinette could barely contain her excitement.

She was going to meet her father for the first time ever!

BD!Bruce Wayne Day 1- Meeting for the First Time

without further ado:

The plane ride was long and boring. Hours upon hours of listening to the whispered conversations and the poorly concealed snores was enough to drive normal people insane. The seat, though lavish and soft, grew uncomfortable after the first three hours of the fourteen hour flight. She slept, ate and watched two movies but there were still three more hours to go. Marinette’s neck had cramped from being seated for so long but not once did she let her discomfort show. She was a big girl now, all of ten years old, and she would not embarrass her mother and her training while being in first class of the plane. 

“Don’t look so tense, darling,” her mother’s sweet voice called out to her, a warm hand on her shoulder. “The plane will be landing soon and then you can stretch your legs.”

“Yes, maman,” despite her discomfort, she was still excited. It was her first time going to America and she was going to meet her birth father! Her parents have spoken of him a few times but each time left her yearning for more; yearning to know the man that made her, that gave her her eyes and pale complexion. She imagined all the possibilities. Was he kind? Was he secretly funny? He was probably as big as her papa! Her maman liked tall guys, she said it made her feel safe. Marinette wanted to feel safe too. He was a warrior, her maman had said, a hero. Could he fight like her papa? Her papa used his imposing size to his advantage, overpowering all his enemies but never causing a scene. Maman used to tell her stories about her papa, about how he used to be known as The Silent Bear, a strong fighter who worked with a group called the League of Shadows before becoming a member of their village. Was her father from that group too? Maman never told her how she met neither her papa nor her father. 

“Marinette,” her voice called her attention. “We’ve landed, sweetie, let’s go.”

Disembarking was a whirlwind of bustling bodies and luggage. The airport smelled different from the Pudong Airport. Not a foul smell, but it was stuffy with fear and anxiety. It made Marinette’s skin crawl. Her maman’s grip on her arm was anchoring as she was dragged throughout the airport and into an awaiting black car. It was nighttime and Marinette was, despite the long flight, still restless with excitement. She watched as her maman merely nodded at the driver before they were off into the night. 

The city was much different from where she grew up. She knew of only her maman’s village and the elders that lived there. The tall buildings, skyscrapers, her English teacher’s voice said, were infinite as they reached for the sky. Some looked old, lined in brick and gargoyles while others were steel and silver like the shiniest of knives. They complemented each other, like the blade and hilt of an old sword. The traffic was crazy though. Marinette has never seen so many cars going in the same direction except for the journey to the airport in Shanghai. 

On top of one of the older buildings, perched on a gargoyle, Marinette saw a shadow. She couldn’t tell what it was until it opened its wings and jumped, swooping over the city like a bat out of hell. 

“Maman! Did you see that?” She was shaking her maman’s sleeve to get her attention to the figure. “It’s him! It’s him!”

“Yes, darling.” Her maman’s smile was sweet and sent warm feelings all throughout her tiny body. “Just be patient, dear.” 

The car turned off the main road and in another five minutes was pulling up to what Marinette believed was called the Gotham Harbour. There were shipping crates and the distinct smell of salt water and dead fish. Marinette couldn’t control her face and turned her nose up in disgust. Not the worst smelling place she’s been but still not nice. The car crawled around corners until it stopped between two forklifts. Before her stood the same figure she witnessed in the city. 

The Dark Knight.

The Caped Crusader.

Batman.

Her father. 

Her maman and papa had never referred to him by his real name; Marinette didn’t think he had one besides ‘Batman.’ He was always ‘the Bat’ or ‘Batman’ when her parents spoke of him. He cared for his city, he fought for justice and was an honest man. But she wanted, no, needed to know more. Would he win in a fight against her papa? Her maman? Her maman was rather fond of long-ranged weapons but her parents said he was a close-ranged fighter like her papa. The excitement was sweet on Marinette’s tongue. She had so many thoughts and questions to voice, none that she could voice from the seclusion of the car.

“Wait here, Marinette.” Her maman had a look on her face, staring out the windshield, boring into the man waiting for them. She had that look whenever she faced a troublesome problem. She fixed her with a softer look, her eyebrows relaxing but her dark eyes as cold as ever. “And remember your manners.”

It was like ice had been injected into her veins. Marinette put a lid on her excitement. Her mother had let her joviality run free long enough. She was representing her village now. She was not going to embarrass her upbringing. Her fidgeting stopped and she took large breaths to calm her heart and mind. She would not be naive into thinking her father would be as warm and welcoming as her dreams had crafted. But she still hoped. Just a teeny bit. 

“Yes, mother,” was her response. Her mother nodded at that and stepped out of the car without a word.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying and her lip-reading skills were not the best. Her mother barely came up to this man’s shoulders. Her deep red blouse was the only splash of colour against his black silhouette. Marinette looked at the crates that boxed them in and saw more figures hidden in the shadows. Those must be his birds. They were unmoving, and huge. Most of them.

Tapping on the glass of her side of the car brought her attention back to her mother. Her eyebrows were back in their previous scrunch. Taking a deeper breath, Marinette squared her shoulders and stepped out of the car. The chill of the air against her skin reminded her of her earrings, her greatest weapon if things went bad. 

She prayed things didn’t go bad.

With a final look at her mother, she stood as tall as she could and paced to her father. To Batman.

Holy cow, Batman!

This was the moment of truth. She would not embarrass herself or her family name. 

“Hello, father,” she started. She kept her voice low and as even as possible, remembering her manners. Her keen eye caught the hesitation in his breathing, she felt the energy on the harbour shift at her words. She took the silence, that lasted only a second, to fully look at the man before her. He was an impressive figure indeed and her mother liked her men tall, but something stuck out to her. Her curiosity rang out and threw her manners away. Her next words left her before she could fully think them over. 

“I thought you’d be taller.”

#mbdbwm2021 #maribat #maribat!biodadbrucewayne2021 #maribat!biodadbrucewaynemonth2021 #maribat events #monthly events

[quietlyimplode]

do you take fic requests bc if you do could you do something like how in bw nat flinches when dreykov goes to hit her the first time and maybe when clint first meets her or something all she does is flinch and super submissive??

Hey Anon. Not sure if this is exactly what you’re thinking; I think there’s a strong correlation between why Natasha flinched and Dreykov being the ultimate abuser; I think that she would be able to differentiate him and Clint. I’m not sure she would have as violent reaction to someone she didn’t know, because that reaction (I think) is one borne of repeat trauma. Sooo this is a 5+1 touching on that reaction.

Warnings for: child abuse, child death, red room musings, domestic violence, child trafficking, black widow spoilers, and ptsd. (3045 words)

Forged.

.

1/

Everything is so overwhelming. There are girls screaming, men with guns. She holds on tightly to Yelena and makes her stand behind her.

The guns have lights on them and she can’t follow them all.

There’s so many people, it’s loud, and confusing and Natasha just wants to cry.

Pain only makes you stronger.

But her chest hurts. It’s a ball of panic that hasn’t gone away since Mama Melina said she was sorry.

She tries to school her face so that it’s devoid of panic; but it’s hard. Yelena is holding her hand hard.

It happens quickly.

They grab Yelena and she yells and screams for her, tries to pull her back but they hit her in the face.

Disoriented, she loses track of her sister, the pain in her heart intensifies in panic and she catches sight of blonde hair. She rips the picture in her hand, and runs over to her.

She knew it was going to happen. She didn’t think it would be like this. She thought they could stay together.

“Take it.” She yells. “Take it.” And shoves it into Yelena’s hands. She’s pulled away and so is Yelena.

She can’t help the feral noises that break free from her body.

She doesn’t cry though.

Pain only makes you stronger and she is in so, so much pain.

She’s lined up with the others and is made to step forward.

She sees him; the man from Cuba. The one Papa Alexei embraced. He walks up to her.

He smells of cigars and strong cologne and it takes everything she has to hold his gaze and not turn up her nose.

The man grabs her head, and she flinches hard against his hands. He gets closer and there’s something in her that remembers this man.

“The Red Room is your home now,” he tells her and looks her up and down, gaze lingering.

He pushes her into a line with 3 older girls and she bites the inside of her mouth as hard as she can to stop herself hyperventilating and panicking.

Pain. She reminds herself.

Pain.

.

2/

There’s four girls with her. The biggest of the guards is closest to her and three more stand over the others. Of course, they think it’s her, that she’s the ringleader. They’re not wrong, but it does make her think that she should perhaps try and stay under the radar a little more.

They’re all standing in front of Dreykov who exudes anger. She can count the number of times on her hand that she’s had to stand in front of him, this is the first time in her nightdress. She’s self conscious all at once and she crosses her arms around her body.

“Stand front!” The guard yells, gun in her face. She startles, as she drops her arms down to her sides, fists clenching.

Svetlana glances tentatively at her and she bows her head.

Dreykov hasn’t said anything and they’re all awaiting punishment. She knew she shouldn’t have smuggled in the Nutella but she was so excited about the new taste, the deliciousness of the spread that she could share.

He turns to face her and her blood runs cold.

“Kill them.” He says looking directly at her, his face curled in a snarl.

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head hard.

He laughs.

“Fine.” He looks to the other four.

“Kill her.” He says and ducks his head towards Natasha.

Svetlana is closest, the guards step back as she steps forward, intentions clear and Natasha can see the smile that plays across his face.

Sadists.

She’s old enough now to know to use the environment to protect herself as well, knows this room and, has taken stock of all the things in the room that could be used as a weapon. She assumed, of course, that they would be used against her, not that she would have to use them against the others.

The first punch comes from Odette, a kick from Sevenya, and attempted restraint from Clara and Svetlana. Natasha protects her head, trying to find an opening where she can get one of the girls between her so the other three have to go through her first.

It’s Clara that she throws on the floor in the way of Odette and she narrowly avoids a letter opener thrown at her head. It clatters for the floor and she scrambled back to pick it up. Holding it in front of her, she looks at the others. It’s not malice on their faces but fear.

Dreykov looks on in amusement and then looks at his watch.

Natasha waits for Odette to attack again. She was always the most impulsive. She spins to the side and kneels and feels the letter opener slice across her femoral artery, she knows she’s hit it when the gush of blood accompanies it.

She has no time to ponder it as she tries to pull the weapon out, Clara is on her again. Natasha kicks up catching her under her chin, the sound of skin hitting skin, her bare foot tingling. She pushes Clara back, adrenaline fading and fatigue setting in for all of them. Sloppy punches end up in hair pulling as Natasha swings her legs up and around her neck. Maybe if she knocks her out, she won’t have to do it.

“Enough.” Dreykov’s voice is clear and she detects the anger on it.

He pulls his gun and shoots Clara and Odette.

She flinches at the sound and almost vomits as she sees Clara take her last breath.

“Leave now. You have no place in the world, as such you may take nothing and have nothing. You will be searched on entry and exit.” He says, enunciating every word.

Natasha attempts a glance at the other two girls but they won’t meet her gaze. They all know what being searched means.

The bodies of Clara and Odette are dragged out one door as they leave through another.

.

3/

Natasha stretches. The apartment on the west side is sunny and she lays on the floor basking in the heat like a cat. She should get up and get something to eat, her stomach letting her know that it’s time, but this position is so relaxing and soothing that she ignores it; just for now. Closing her eyes she listens to the lull of slow paced music she put on earlier.

She given herself two days to do nothing. She’s sure that she’s off the radar and knows that her body and her mind needs rest. If only it worked that way.

Being on the run isn’t new. Being a fugitive from the red room and staying low is fine. She just needs to decide what she wants out of life; these are the bigger decisions that she’s putting on the back burner. Just for now.

The sun sets low and the slow growl of her tummy, lets her know that it’s truly time to get up; tend to herself and find the Thai place that knows her order when she walks in the door. A fact that she’s not sure she should be worried about.

Pulling on a jacket, she turns to set her own locks, and then moves to the door to lock it with her keys.

A bang, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a yell make her flinch hard, dropping her keys to the floor. A flash of a guard and her head whipping back from a punch is almost identical to the sound she just heard, and it takes her a second to get her breathing under control. Natasha feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up, knowing the likelihood of what she’s just heard.

She’s got a choice to make.

Help, and potentially expose herself.

Do nothing, and more red on her ledger.

Bucking courage, she walks inaudibly down the hall. Locates the sound where there’s the faint sound of crying and the low rumble of a mans voice.

She knocks, loudly and confidently.

There’s silence, before the door opens ajar, and she pushes it into his face and walks in.

“Bitch what do you think you’re doin?” Comes the drawl as he follows her.

“Did you hit her?” She asks voice low and dangerous.

“What?”

“Did you, hit her?” Natasha points to the crying woman, whose face is swollen and red.

“Who do you think you are?” The man stands over Natasha and stares down at her. She cocks her head and stares back. He goes to grab her and she turns her body, grabbing his hand and twisting, making him drop to his knees.

She twists again hard, and he grunts and cries out. There’s a strong smell of cologne, the same as Dreykov and she snaps. She breaks his hand and punches him in the face. Hears the crack of fist against cheek and shouts at him.

“How dare you?” She grunts at him, standing over him. She punches him again.

“You think it makes you more of a man?”

There’s blood on her knuckles.

The woman is asking her to stop; and she’s crying harder.

Natasha knows what she’s done, she’s not upset with herself.

She squats next to the man with the broken nose and bloodshot eyes; blood spattered making for a gruesome scene. She gets close to his face.

“Nod if you can hear me.” She says. He nods; a short dip of his head.

“I will kill you if you ever touch her again.” She promises.

“I know where you live.” She nods to the mechanic jacket hanging, “I know where you work.” She stands up.

“I will be watching.”

 

4/

Clint watches Natasha playing chess against herself and holds up the takeaway.

“Come play against me,” she invites and he laughs.

“You think you can take me?” He asks.

She finally looks up to him and grins.

“Always.”

He puts the paper bag down on the stove and laughs as she sets it up again.

“I haven’t won once, doesn’t it get boring playing against me?” His eyes twinkle at her as he looks at her, both of them smiling.

Natasha opens as she always does by moving her pawn. Clint copies her move.

She’s about to make her second move when they’re interrupted by the smoke alarm chirping and a small flame coming from the paper bag on the stove.

He laughs. Says something about not knowing the stove was still warm and waves the tea towel across the smoke alarm.

It takes him a moment, but he realises she’s not joking with him. In fact.

She’s frozen.

“Natasha?”

There’s a whine and a choked noise.

“No. Nononono.” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Make it stop. Make it stop.”

He’s scrambling now.

“Please?” He looks to where she’s looking, the smoking bag, a flame.

“Make it stop.” She repeats again.

His heart drops and he finally gets the tiny flame under control, dumping it in the sink. She’s staring where it was. Eyes blank, body tight.

He moves over to her and reaches over to her.

Natasha flinches at his touch; his hands retract quickly.

“It’s ok, Natasha.”

The haunted look doesn’t leave her face but she stands and moves away.

“Yeah, it’s ok.”she repeats back.

She leaves for the bedroom and he follows her tentatively,

“Just. Give me a minute.” She requests and shuts the bathroom door.

He sits on the bed waiting for her to emerge. He stays until he hears the tap run, and the door unlock.

When she emerges she looks the same as before, face relaxed, mask on.

“You ok?” He asks, tentatively.

“Fine.” She nods.

Clint nods with her.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks tentatively, not really knowing what to do next. The fact that she’s freaked out on him and managed to pull herself back together in the space of ten minutes is suspicious, and he feels he needs to walk on eggshells around her.

She shrugs and melts into the couch, knees to her chest.

“Wanna tell me what that was?” He ventures, sitting next to her.

“No.”

It doesn’t leave any space for probing, so he stops talking. Let’s her figure it out herself.

She uncurls herself and stands.

“Actually. I’m just going to go home.” She nods to the chess set. “Thanks for the game.”

He stands alongside her.

“You sure?” He asks, it’s not right he knows. He should keep her here, make sure she’s ok. But. They’re not there. He’s not her confidant. He’s not the one she goes to.

Natasha nods.

“Thanks.” She grabs her coat and makes for the door, passing through the threshold, pausing slightly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

By the time he reaches the door frame, she’s gone.

 

5/

Natasha has done hard things in life. She knows she has. Her whole childhood was lucky survival, and she knows it. But this. This is intentional bravery and even if she dies she knows it’s the right thing.

Being in front of him, is possibly the hardest, most confronting and perhaps masochistic move she could have taken, but given the short time frame Melina gave her, she didn’t see another way.

As he talks to her.

As he goes to touch her face.

It takes all of her not to react.

To be still.

To remember to breathe.

She asks about her mother because she can’t help it, and he tears the knife through her soul.

She wasn’t unknown. She was Natasha and all the other mothers who fought for orphaned little girls. She buries it deep, masking her face, unable to stop her eyes watering.

He makes Antonia uncover herself, and she’s ripped apart again.

Natasha carries the scars of her death on the inside. Antonia carries them on the outside.

She can’t believe what she’s hearing, seeing and wants with every once of her being to say she’s sorry. Of all the deaths she’s being responsible for, Antonia’s is the one she needs to atone for the most.

She’s alive and it’s simultaneously the best and worst thing.

Dreykov taunts her as she knew he would and sends Antonia away. It’s enough to make her mind flip back to the plan.

Finally, the opportunity to shove a gun in his face. She knows it won’t work. But the little voice inside her head thought maybe, just maybe she would be stronger than the pheromone lock. She wasn’t strong enough as a child to fight back when they took her from her bed, or when she wanted with every once of her being to protect others; but she thought maybe being separated from him, being older, grown; she wouldn’t be subjected to the same weaknesses.

She was wrong.

She can’t pull the trigger.

She can’t stab him through the heart.

And as he touches her and peels the knife from her fingers, she can feel the panic welling inside her.

She’s traipsed into the lions den, full of confidence but she’s nothing compared to science and manipulation. Despair fills every inch of her as he’s close enough to smell. The old sickly cologne that haunts her nightmares, that makes her snap into rages when she gets a whiff of it on any other man, and as it’s paired with the smell of a cigar, she’s torn back to him grabbing her face and telling her the Red Room is her home.

She is home.

She tries to outrun it but he’s going to turn her back into a mindless automaton. Not with trigger words this time. Not with pain. Or fear, or even threats. It’s all chemical. She has no choice.

Her whole body shudders in visceral pain as he gets closer to her, talking to her, saying her name.

Her voice is low as she keeps up the charade.

Sever the nerve; and it will be ok.

Sever the nerve; and he will have no control.

But.

As he raises his hand to her, she can’t do it. She flinches away and she’s so disappointed in herself. Old habits, isn’t that what they say?

She’s 10 and her eyes are black.

She’s 11 and her body knows not to bruise so easily.

She’s 12 and can take a punch easily.

Natasha bites down heavily on her cheeks drawing blood. It’s grounding. He moves away from her and mumbles something about Melina.

Control.

Control the narrative. Make him say what she needs. This is not about her.

This is not about her trauma.

She breathes heavily as he reiterates the plan to her and she tapers the panic.

Bait him.

Make him cooperate.

She can do this.

She can do hard things.

+1

The television plays and the heater whirs as Natasha sits on the big chair reading her book. She sips the sweet drink she prepared for herself and pulls the blanket up. There’s a softness about the night, and it’s built on not having any competing priorities. Not having to be anywhere the next day.

She’s alone but it’s peaceful, and allows her to mull over the words she reads.

“Being kind to yourself is the greatest kindness.” Is the quote that sticks in her head, and, as she picks up the chocolate on her left, she’s knows it’s the truth.

For once, her brain is calm and she knows the safety of this place. Clint would call it a controlled environment but she prefers to think of it as safety.

In the life of a spy, there’s no place safe enough, no turning off the low level anxiety that always follows her around, but somehow; here, she can.

She looks out the window and admires the trees atop the mountain she can see, marvels in the low fog that gathers around and has a life of its own as it moves around outside in the darkness.

There’s no light pollution, except what’s coming from inside the house.

She glances at the time, glad she made the connection, the phone call she’s expecting not breaking the peace or make her flinch at the unexpected noise permeating peace.

Natasha sets down her book and picks up her phone. One minute.

Right on cue it rings.

She smiles.

“Hey.”

.

All my fic.

#black widow spoilers #the black widow movie #natasha romanoff #clint barton #black widow #widows #Natasha flinching #general dreykov #my fic #ask away #prompts #child abuse tw #ptsd #domestic violence tw #child death tw #tw red room #red room horribleness in this one #black widow fic

[fromathelastoveritaserum]

PK_Chu’s Fanfiction Masterlist

✨ A quick list of my current fanfictions ✨ ٩(⁎❛ヮ❛⁎)۶ 

[WHEN JOY RETURNED]  AO3 (HERE) Far Cry 5 story involving original Deputy and the Seeds with a childhood twist ~ Story Summary: Born and raised in Hope County, Joy Owens never thought she would return. When she was young, her family moved to the big city, cutting off all ties, and never looking back. ‘It was because of that Seed family,’ the rumor mill whispered. But, that was a long time ago…a time Joy has trouble recalling and has simply let be. Now, she has finally achieved the role of Junior Deputy in the city where the large white signs on the hills spell out ‘Hollywood.’ But, when a U.S. Marshal suddenly arrives at the station to drag her back to Hope County, Joy has no choice but to confront the past. Back to the wilds of Montana, where old wounds had been left to fester, heartache had never healed, and memories once cherished lay forgotten. Joy will soon remember the Seed family; and as she does something reawakens deep within her, a darkness, the reason she had to leave. Can the secrets that lay hidden in her memories save the Seed Family from themselves or will it tear Joy apart, bringing the Resistance crashing down with her? 

[MY BELOVED PROFESSOR]  AO3 (HERE) or Fanfiction.net (HERE) Fire Emblem Three Houses fanfic involving Dimitri x Byleth  ~ Story Summary:  Byleth was never one for emotions; even in the heat of battle her heart is still and her face is stoic like a mask. So, no one could fault Dimitri for his uncertainty when Byleth is offered a position as a professor. But, once he sees her smile, Dimitri's fate is sealed. Fate that would lead him to one day call the Ashen Demon, his beloved. (Spoilers! Currently on Ashen Wolves DLC - More Papa Jeralt and Sassy Sothis too!)

[IN SICKNESS & IN HEALTH]  AO3 (HERE) or Fanfiction.net (HERE) Mass Effect Andromeda fancifc involving Sara Ryder and Evfra de Tershaav. ~ Story Summary: Evfra de Tershaav, the venerate Resistance leader, is stricken with the Angaran flu. Forced to stay at home under quarantine, Evfra would have been taken care of by family and close friends. Without either, he suffers alone, until Sara Ryder, Pathfinder extraordinaire, shows up at his doorstep as his self proclaimed caretaker. Soon long forgotten feelings begin to stir awake for this free spirited little human. // Evfra has accepted the fact that he is smitten for an alien, and not just any alien, but Sara Ryder the Human Pathfinder and leader of her people. However, having been so long out of the dating scene his wooing skills are practically non-existent, and what is worse, he isn’t the only angaran who has set sights on Ryder. Meanwhile, Sara is completely oblivious as to what certain angarans are vying for. The Pathfinder finds herself stumbling through the intricate art of angaran courtship, realizing that only one ever grouchy angaran had her heart all along.

[FALLING FOR YOU]  AO3 (HERE) Mass Effect Andromeda fanfic involving Tiran Kandros and Sara Ryder ~ Story Summary:  A collection of drabbles celebrating the developing relationship between Kandros and Ryder, for which we were bereft of in the game. Adding my own twist and fun side plots. Slightly loose in the timeline sequence in the game 

[OF TACTICS AND KNIGHTHOOD]  AO3 (HERE) or Fanfiction.net (HERE) Fire Emblem Awakening fanfic involving Frederick and Robin with a Pride and Prejudice twist ~ Story Summary: Frederick had no idea he would later be eating his own words and chasing the heart of the very tactician whom he had been ever wary of. Yet Robin, overhearing the slight from Frederick at the Ylisse Harvest Ball, will not be won over so easily. It doesn’t help that the two so easily rile the other up.A Fire Emblem Awakening slight AU with a strong hint of Pride and Prejudice. For if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, one might get away with Fredrick as Mr. Darcy, Chrom as Mr. Bingly, and Robin as Miss Elizabeth Bennett. This idea struck me and Naga help me, I’m running with it!

[THE HERALD’S COMMANDER]  AO3 (HERE) or Fanfiction.net (HERE) Dragon Age Inquisition fanfic involving Cullen and Inquisitor Trevelyan with a twist ~Story Summary: Go to the Chantry conclave they said, it will be fun they said. Oh, how wrong they were! Now, Evelyn Trevelyan finds herself in the thick of the Inquisition with a bizarre glowing mark upon her hand, and hailed as the Herald of Andraste. Follow along as the novice fighter, and ‘menace on two legs’ as Cassandra calls her, tries to patch back up the hole in the sky along with the oddest rag-tag group of companions in all of Thedas. And to make matters more interesting, Evelyn is dealing with conflicting emotions and awkward encounters with Cullen; for his first love, the mage, was Evelyn’s sister…

[THE DRUNKEN TEXT] AO3 (HERE) or Fanfiction.net (HERE) ~ Story Summary: On a drunken dare prompted by a hiccuping Sylvain, a rosy cheeked Dimitri texts his old college professor, asking her out for a cup of coffee. Before he returns to his senses, and recovers from his hangover, the young man is plunged into a series of events as he reconnects with Professor Byleth Eisner.

Dimitri realizes he never stopped loving her...Byleth finally learns how to express her love to him.

...will Sylvain get any credit in the end?? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#fanfiction #masterlist #far cry 5 #fire emblem #mass effect #mass effect andromeda #dragon age #dragon age inqusition #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem awakening #original female deputy #john seed #joseph seed #jacob seed #faith seed #sara ryder #evfra de tershaav #tiran kandros #frederick #robin #commander cullen #inquisitor trevelyan #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth eisner

[marblesphere]

Xiao x reader

!Angst Warning!

Slowly and gently, I can see how he tucks the loose lock of her hair to her ear. I can also see how she blushes at his gentle gesture. A small barely noticeable smile on his lips. I clench my fist tightly, I feel the Qingxin flower's stem crushed in my palm. I want to walk away from the irritating scene, but my feet are rooted on the ground. As if some force prevented me too.

It took all my willpower to tear my sight from them. "Xiao…" I whispered to the wind, hoping he would notice. But alas, the harsh reality proved otherwise.

10 years. It took me ten years to befriend the so-called vigilant yaksha. The only remaining yaksha. The yaksha which is said to be the coldest amongst all of the adepti in Liyue.

I met Xiao when I was 6 years old. I was lost in a forest near Liyue harbor. I remember Granny Ping said to call Adeptus Xiao if I ever had any trouble. So with a snotty nose, I wail out his name. A gust of gentle breeze blows before a tall big brother (at that time) in teal arrived. He frowns at me. I still remember my hand, which was full of snot and tears, grabbed his long sleeves and cried to it, effectively soiling the pristine cloth.

He almost flung me instinctively, but I know how hard I grabbed it and I am still a Liyue citizen. Xiao kneeled and with an awkward pat on my head, he lifted me up easily. Without a word, he jumps high. I can still vividly remember the breeze blowing my face. I stopped crying immediately and realized how high we were.

Tears were replaced with small giggles. From the position we were, I found my parents shouting my name. "Papa and mama." I leaned my body, wriggling out of his arms.

"Don't move." That was the first time I heard his voice. It's so beautiful that I shut up immediately. Xiao maneuvered and landed near to my worried parents.

"Mama, Papa!" I rushed to them right after Xiao put me down. My mother quickly hugs me tight, afraid if I were to disappear again.

"Where were you?! Do you know how worried we were?!" Papa scolded.

"But Papa, Adeptus Xiao took me home." I wriggled out from my mother's embrace and looked behind me, only to find empty space.

"Adeptus Xiao was with you?" Papa asked bewildered.

"Yep. Granny Ping told me to call for Adeptus Xiao if I had trouble. I did and he came. He jumped so high and I could see you." I excitedly told them my tale.

Not long after, I finally found out not many people can meet the elusive Adeptus. But I was determined to meet him again. To thank him and befriend him.

So, I ask the most knowledgeable person in this world, Granny Ping. Granny Ping told me that Qingxin is his flower. I want to pick one, but it only blooms in high peaks which is impossible for me. So, the next best thing is buying from a florist. Granny Ping also told me where to give the flower. Wangshu inn. Thus, I made it my mission to go there everyday to give him a Qingxin flower.

In Wangshu inn. As expected, I couldn't meet Xiao, instead I met the owner. Verr Goldet. After hearing my reasoning to visit the elusive Adeptus. She told me to put the flower on the balcony on the highest floor. I will stay there for hours without meeting him. And I do this everyday for almost a month.

Maybe Verr was taking pity on me. She told me to help her deliver a plate of Almond tofu to Xiao. And thus, our second meeting. I was so excited that I almost fell flat smashing the tofu to the floor if not for his fast reflex.

Xiao frowns when he sees me. "Adeptus Xiao, thank you." I smiled as I gave him the flower.

"Don't come close to me." He frowned.

"But, I want to." I shook my head. "Granny Ping told me you have protected us. I want to thank you." I pouted.

"...I am just doing my job according to the contract. I don't need any thanks." He said.

"Even so, I want to thank you." I said persistently.

I think that was the time he gave up explaining to a small naive kid. From that day on, I meet him everyday with a Qingxin flower and a plate of almond tofu. Of course, I still have to call him or else he won't show up even with almond tofu.

After a year, he softened up a bit. At least, I don't need to wait for him on the balcony. He will always be there by the time I reach the balcony with a flower and a plate of almond tofu. Another year and I can even manage to slip a Qingxin flower to his hair. And the second year of our meeting is truly the start of my happiness. Xiao gave me a small trinket made from sage technique to ward off evil. Every year following that on my birthday the small trinket will increase, a crystalfly, a leaf butterfly, you name it. And last year, he gave me an amulet. The amulet I have never taken it off since I wore it on my birthday.

In exchange I too, so persistently celebrate his birthday, since he won't tell me when is his birthday, I just mark the date we met is his birthday, not until a few years later he finally grumpily told me his real birthday.

I started learning martial arts and cooking courtesy from Xiao for the former and Smiley Yan for the latter.

10 years of hardwork, 9 years of nurturing feelings, all of them have gone to the drain. With just one appearance of this girl. No, she is not a traveller with a fairy. She is just someone from Qingce village. Xiao met her when he was patrolling around the area. Just in a month she undone all my hardwork. Now they are a step away from being lovers.

I made my way back home. For the first time in 10 years, I didn't go to Wangshu inn, no I didn't go to meet him. A fresh Qingxin I have picked and a plate of almond tofu are laid forgotten on the table. Fresh tears finally flowed down from my eyes. It hurts. It hurts so much looking at them. It hurts so much seeing him smile at them. The smile that I thought only I could see.

'It's not yours anymore.' A sickly sweet voice whispered

'He is finally happy. He finally rid himself of you. You are just a worthless girl. You don't deserve him.'

'The love of his life is not you. It will never be you.' The sickly sweet voice cackled gleefully.

That night I succumbed to the negative emotion of mine.

The next day, I resolved to investigate that girl. I have realized I am not good enough for him. That's why I want to make sure she is good enough for him.

'You just want to make yourself better if you find a flaw in her. What a liar.' The voice back in my mind echoed.

I shake myself, trying to get rid of those voices. First, I will obviously start from Liyue. I heard her parents are doing business in Liyue and she sometimes tags along. And today, she didn't come. Perfect. I have double checked in her parents' shop.

But every answer I get from them lowers my spirit. In the end, I can only summarize her in one word. Perfect. She is so perfect. All of the people I ask from will sing a praise to her. It's almost impossible for a perfect human like her to exist. But she is, and now she could even open the vigilant yaksha's heart in the span of a month.

To clear my head and the annoying voices in my head, I make my way to the secret place I have found a few years back. Inside the forest where I first met Xiao, there is a small patch of Qingxin flower field deep inside the forest. Qingxin flower, which is said to only bloom in the highest peak, somehow can grow in that patch and only that patch. The area around it is also safe from hillicurls or slime. Xiao said he never detected any malicious intent around the small field. Thus, that area became our secret spot.

Either Celestia likes to mess with me or I am just that unlucky, I met the perfect girl. She is surrounded by hillicurls. I frowned, I materialized my weapon and took a step.

'Why don't you just leave her alone. She is powerless. If the Hillicurls get her killed, then no one will be with your precious Xiao again. You can have him all by yourself.' The sickly sweet voice is tempting me with that.

I stop dead in my tracks. Indeed, If she is dead, then Xiao will have no one but me. It will be just the two of us again. I take a step back and turn myself.

'Good. This is what you should do.' The voice cooed.

"Kyaaa!!"

I grit my teeth and spring back to act. I rush to the group of hillicurls, which fortunately just 3 of them. I swipe their feet using my polearm. "Run!" I barked at her. She flinches at my harsh glare and voice, but finally starts running.

I quickly engaged with 3 hillicurls. I am not a pro, but Xiao taught me enough to defend myself. I panted after I finished the last hillicurls. I am just glad I didn't get any deep injury. "Kikiki!" A small fireball flew past me.

I cursed my luck. A pyro abyss mage is waving his staff and 3 small monster heads are firing flamethrowers at me. I barely dodge it. "Kikiki!" Then another cyro abyss mage comes out.

I gulp. This place might be my grave after all.

*3rd POV*

Yue Mei is just picking herbs by herself. She giggles at the thought of the famous vigilant yaksha literally swept by her feet in their first meeting. She fell in love at the first sight. She glanced at a charm on her neck. She is really grateful for this charm. She made a wish a year ago in an adepti abode. And that adeptus gave her this charm. She is told to wear this everyday, everywhere she goes. This charm will help her.

True to his word, after she had worn this charm. Everyone has become nicer. They gave her a lot of free stuff and some even started to court her. She was shy at first, the attention she got was really overwhelming. But, she already has an ideal man. A man who is strong and handsome. And her ideal man turned out to be Adeptus Xiao.

She blushes again remembering him. Their last meeting ends up with Adeptus Xiao tucked her hair back to her ear. This intimate gesture is really making her happy. Soon, she will confess to him soon. And they will become a couple.

But, her daydream is short lived. A group of hillicurls suddenly appear and surround her. Fear gripped her entire being. "A...ade...adept…" She is too afraid to even call the yaksha. One of the hillucurls raises its club high. "Don….'t… Kyaaaa!!!!" She let out a blood curdling scream as she closed her eyes.

But the pain didn't come. When she opened her eyes she saw the hillicurls on the ground and a girl wielding a polearm glared at her with such hostility. "Run!" She barked at her. Yue Mei flinches at her harsh tone. But her feet finally gained their freedom as she ran away to the direction of Wangshu inn.

Her feet are tired and trembling. She collapses on her knees. "Adeptus Xiao." She whimpered. A familiar breeze whirled, and Xiao came. Looking at the trembling form, Xiao frowns, "What happened?" He kneeled in front of her.

"Hi...Hillicurls…" She managed to stutter.

He hisses, knowing those monsters targeted someone under his protection. "Where are they?"

"There…" She pointed to a direction. "A girl...wielding...polearm...is...holding them...off…" She said shakily. The entire time she clutched her charm.

"A girl… wielding polearm…" His eyes widened. A girl wielding a polearm. The only one that comes to his mind is "[Your Name]..." He whispered. Somehow his mind becomes clear, as if the fog in his mind has been blown away. Xiao quickly summons his own spear.

"Don't!!!" Yue Mei quickly grabbed his hand. "Don't...leave...me alone." Tears streamed down her eyes, making her look so pitiful. This usually invokes some kind of protective instinct from the opposite gender. But, unfortunately for her. She is dealing with this the one and only Conqueror of Demons. Now the spell has been broken, he is not as nice as previous him except to a certain mortal.

"Release me!" He growled as he glared at her, more specifically at her charm.

She flinches at his harsh tone and glare. She stares at him wide eyed. He never used this kind of tone with her, not even on their first meeting. Her hands loosen up. And Xiao quickly disappears from her, leaving her all alone.

Xiao rushes to the direction that the girl pointed to. His mind is racing with what ifs. He finally arrived, but [Your Name] is not on sight. There are only 3 dead bodies of Hillicurls. He calms down a bit. She can handle herself just fine if it's only 3 Hillicurls. But, when he observed more carefully once again, his blood ran cold. Not far from him, a puddle of red blood is spotted, along with two dead abyss mages.

His heart thumped loudly, looking at the trail of blood moving to a certain direction. To the direction he is so familiar. His mind starts racing with a really unpleasant outcome.

"~~~♪ ~~~ ♪" The wind brought a familiar tune.

"...Xiao...where are you…?" He heard it. Her voice. But her voice is so weak, like she will disappear forever. Xiao has never rushed this fast. Right now in his mind, there's only she has to be alright.

*1st Pov*

"Hah...haah…" I panted as I stabbed my polearm to the ground, using it to stabilize my body. The puddle of blood on the ground beneath me is proof it's too late for me. 'If I were to die… At least let me choose the place.' With that in mind, I dragged my feet to our secret spot no, my grave. The small patch of Qingxin flowers.

I drop my body in the middle of the patch, hissing from the pain. But the smell of Qingxin is calming me down. It feels like Xiao is with me.

"~~~♪ ~~~ ♪" with my shaky voice, I started humming a tune. This song is passed down from generation to generation in our house. Apparently this song is some kind of a prayer back in the ancient times. My eyes are blurry now being soaked by blood. "...Xiao...where are you…?" I couldn't see anymore. I reach out my hand, hoping he will grab it. Then a miracle happened. I can see Xiao grabs my hand and pulls me up. I can feel the pain has started to dull and then disappeared, I feel so light, so free. I can see him clearly. Hand in hand the two of us wander to wherever we desire.

"Thank you for coming." I smiled.

#Xiao x reader #Angst #Genshin Xiao #genshin x reader

[helion-ism]

let’s talk about elucien

there are so many reasons why I love elain x lucien and why I think these two would not only be amazing together, but also why they belong together. one of those reasons is lucien’s sassy personality, which we already got a glimpse of in acotar (and that I miss terribly btw), and which is, in my opinion, exactly what elain needs in her life. we’re talking about lucien “your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold” vanserra. we know he’s got quite a big mouth, that’s how we got to know him, but we also know that mouth is exactly what’s gotten him into trouble before. case in point: the eye incident. lucien doesn’t mince his words and yes, that is one of the reasons why elain really needs to spend some more time with him. 

she has been coddled by not only her father, nesta, feyre, but also the entire inner circle, which has allowed her to live her life passively. yes, she killed the king of hybern, and good for her, but she did it because nobody else could have done it at that point in time. ever since the war ended, elain has not actively contributed to any plot matters, whether by choice or because someone else took the choice from her. azriel said in acosf, “there is an innate darkness to the dread trove that elain should not be exposed to.” even amren pointed out that elain is capable of defending herself, but for some reason, nobody let her even though elain said she would try to find it: “then I will find it. I might require some time to … reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” and yet,  by the end of the book, elain’s been barely in it and has not contributed at all. (I know some people claim there’s certain things already happening in the background, but honestly, I’m not satisfied with that development happening off page, so I can’t wait to finally go on her journey and actually see her do stuff)

this moment is crucial:

does it look like she is happy with the way the others treat her? not really. when nesta snapped at her, elain started laughing. that signals relief to me because nesta, the one who has always tried to protect elain the most (nesta baby Ilysm), is the one who suddenly lost her patience. elain needs somebody like lucien, somebody with a big mouth and sassy attitude, who can coax her out of that paralysis she’s been stuck in, a bit like nesta in this scene. additionally, the banter would be top tier. I want another “if I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?” moment, please. god please. (elain blinks. “and where would you like that kiss?” — and lucien just loses his mind.)

another thing that lives in my head rent free is the fact that lucien has travelled almost everywhere and could introduce elain, who wishes to see more of the world (see: “elain had always wanted to visit the continent to study the tulips and other famed flowers”), to the different courts and the continent. I refuse to accept that we will not get to learn more about the other courts, for my sake, but also for elain’s sake. I want her to see the spring court at least once. I want her to go and see those tulips she’s dreamt of. I want her and lucien to discover the day court as a new home, which brings me to the next point. 

elain has been craving sunshine for some time now. there’s several quotes that emphasise her connection to sunshine/light, here are a few of my favourites: 

I marveled at it, actually — that those years of poverty hadn‘t stripped away that light from elain.

the suite was filled with sunlight. every curtain shoved back as far as it could go, to let in as much sun as possible. as if any bit of darkness was abhorrent.

she had been always so full of light. perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. to fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been. and now nothing remained.

what can I get you, elain? — sunshine.

elain doesn’t belong into the night court. feyre has found her family there, with rhys and the inner circle. nesta has found (or should I say accepted) cassian and found gwyn and emerie, her chosen sisters. but elain?

elain is somewhere in the background hiding with the twins and tending to gardens of the citizens of velaris. you can’t tell me that is satisfactory to you. she is currently ignoring her seer abilities, and the members of the inner circle are basically encouraging her to do so. the only time she’s been confronted lately was during that conversation with nesta and her reaction was not exactly what any of us readers would have expected, was it? that tells me there’s much more about her we don’t know yet, and I’m convinced we won’t know until she finally leaves and finds her own people, finds herself again and start dealing with everything that happened to her. elain must leave the night court, i.e. the darkness, behind in order to grow.

the same goes to lucien: he’s not at a place where he can just jump into a relationship or mating bond. he’s got so much stuff going on. lucien was forced to abandon his home and his abusive family, his “father” killed the fae he loved in front of his eyes, his best friend is an abusive pos who never appreciated him anyway, and neither has anyone in the night court. lucien is used because of his connections and because of the mating bond that ties him to elain, whether he wanted it or not. feyre knows he would never turn away from elain unless she explicitly wishes him to, and so she and rhys and the others use that to their advantage. it is smart, of course, but at the same time, they also keep important information about his own life from him that could change many, many things. so he’s spending his time with mortals in the human lands — a place where he as a fae really does not belong. 

lucien being the heir to the day court, well, to me, it feels like sjm is practically screaming it into our face: how could he find a home in the night court, the literal opposite to the day? darkness vs. light. and what about elain “he’d never once in the two years he’d known her found elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … it sucked the life from her” archeron? just looking at the symbolism, not only do the quotes from above indicate that the night court cannot possibly be her home, but also very recent quotes from the latest book. elain is a side character in the night court. and so is lucien. they both need to leave in order to become main characters — and it doesn’t even matter that both are already crucial to the further plot of the series because how can they possibly contribute to it in a place where they are both kept down? 

mor said in acofas: “stay out of it. she’s not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings.” and “let him figure out where he wants to be. who he wants to be. the same goes with her.” mor’s power is “truth”, whatever that means. but there you have it. they’re not ready to be with each other yet, and that’s okay. 

[elain and lucien are also connected not only because of the mating bond, but also because of the plot. lucien must know quite a lot about her and her sisters simply because of all the time he spent with their father. the father who made a bargain with koschei. koschei who put a spell on vassa. lucien is therefore tied to both papa archeron as well as koschei and vassa. elain, we know, is a seer, despite her not using her abilities (or is she, and we simply don’t know?). elain is (obviously) connected to her father, but also to koschei and vassa (remember those visions she had).]

now let’s get to the mating bond stuff, and I need to say this loud and clear: elain has always had and will always have one (1) true mate. there’s no such thing as “false mate” or even multiple mates. there has been no indication whatsoever. lucien is the mate the cauldron had given her when she was born. and elain is the mate the cauldron had given him when he was born. even when she was still human, they already belonged together — tied together by strings of fate. absolutely nothing will change this fact. should elain reject the bond, lucien will remain a part of her life/her soul forever. should lucien reject the bond, elain will remain a part of his life/his soul forever.

when she was still human, lucien had already felt a pull between them and tried to save and protect her from hybern. when elain was already fae, when it came to protecting her, azriel clapped cassian’s shoulder and left (is this the true mate they’re all talking about?). it’s unfair to lucien, elain, AND azriel and this comparison alone is enough to disprove this theory.

the thing is, lucien has been nothing but respectful, kind and caring towards elain. when he arrived in velaris in acowar, he could immediately sense what she needed and said, “she needs fresh air” (vs. the response “we’ll judge what she needs”) and “take her to the sea. take her to some garden. but get her out of this house for an hour or two.” (I’m gonna make another post about this because I have a few thoughts on this)

of course, she doesn’t owe him anything, but elain herself doesn’t wish to be treated like a child, she maybe she should start acting like an adult because although she doesn’t owe lucien an apology or explanation, she has to have a conversation with him, like two responsible adults. there is no way feyre or anyone in the inner circle hasn’t told her that she can reject the bond and move on with her life. but just like her powers, this is another thing she chooses to ignore. I’m not blaming her because I know she has to work through her trauma first and heal, but by the end of the series, she has to acknowledge that at least.

in acosf, elain says “I am not a child to be fought over” when they discuss the dread trove. I wonder what she would say about the fact azriel threatens to challenge lucien to the blood duel because of her? based on literally everything we know about lucien, I can say with certainty that he would not physically fight over elain. if she only had a conversation with him and told him to move on and leave her alone, lucien would do just that. he would leave her alone and try to move on as best as he could (which we know is difficult for males). but he would never act as entitled to her as to demand a blood duel and fight to death. it goes against his principles. 

to finish this off, sjm summing up everything I just said:

#elucien #mating bond #mp

[sgrayonderii]

nom de guerre

SSM21 Day 17: a gentle man

In which some titles are more accurate than others. Samurai-esque AU

It is common knowledge that for a noble title and a swath of land, her mother was sold to a warlord.  

Haruno Sakura had the great misfortune of being born as the daughter of a destitute samurai family. Their master had long been vanquished and their lands long sold to make ends meet. And yet still longed for days yonder. 

But her mother also had the great fortune of being born a beauty, so when the opportunity arose; a passing hegemon looking for a bride, Sakura’s parents took a chance. 

They say that the young warlord was so mesmerized by her mother that he immediately accepted the terms of the expensive bride price and took her as his wife. 

On their wedding day, mother was dressed in her finest robes while her father arrived late in a full suit of blood soaked armor. 

The ceremony itself was a soleum affair. Her parents pledged themselves before the gods and swear to their union.

And so Haruno Sakura becomes Lady Uchiha no Sakura, the wife of Lord Uchiha no Madara.

----

Sarada has faint memories of her father; more often than not her father is sent to the battlefield and only returns a few days to weeks at a time between campaigns. 

The Uchiha clan is one of the important noble families of the Konoha and known for its long history of bloodthirsty warriors. Her father is no exception. 

Whenever he returns home, Sarada hides behind her mother’s skirt. Her father is an imposing demon-like man, larger than life, and taller than a mountain. Someone more suited for stories and legends than real life. 

They call him a man more fearsome than Susanoo-no-Mikoto itself. So violent, so blood crazed, it is a wonder that Sakura lived as long as she did when a male heir had yet to be born. 

Thankfully, it seems that as a daughter, her father pays very little attention to her. Whenever he returns from the borderlands between here and Oto, he barely spares her a glance. 

However, whenever his eyes meet her mother’s through his helmet, he beckons her over. 

“Sakura,” he commands, voice deep and low, “bring some tea to my quarters.”

Sarada always remembers her mother looking angry but determined then. Sakura dutifully follows her husband into the inner chambers. She doesn’t emerge until late morning.

Sarada is usually having lessons during this time, but one day she sneaks out of her etiquette classes to find her mother. 

She searches almost the entire unusually empty manor before finding Sakura in the kitchen brewing tea. Her mother’s clothes are covered in blood and her hands are covering her tears. 

Sarada has never seen her mother sob so terribly before.

From then on, she decides that her father must be an especially cruel man. 

---- 

Whenever her father returns from war, her Papa also comes home. 

Today she finds him on the engawa overlooking the gardens. He is sipping some tea while looking over some scrolls. He appears injured, bandages wrapped around his torso, but otherwise in good health. 

If her father is the devil incarnate, then Sarada’s papa is a handsome devil. 

No wonder her Mama is so taken with him. Sometimes when she is supposed to be asleep, she can hear her Mama fuss over Papa. They hold hands when no one is looking and share secrets no other soul knows. 

Despite the cold manor they reside in, Mama is an affectionate woman at her core and her Papa is receptive to all she has to give. 

And Papa must be someone important too; after all he is allowed to leave and enter from the inner quarters that a normal Uchiha foot soldier could not. 

Sarada pads over to him, he looks up and beckons her closer. 

“Have you been a good girl, little peanut?” 

Sarada scoffs. “ I’m not a nut.” But she holds out her hands anyways. 

Her Papa chuckles and pulls out some dried persimmons from his sleeves. “Don’t tell Sakura.” 

Sarada smiles at their little secret before taking a bite. “What are you reading?” Her Papa allows her to climb onto his lap and drapes the scroll over her. Sarada squints, only understanding a fraction of the words on the paper. She points and reads aloud the characters she recognizes.

“Good girl.” He slips her another dried persimmon.

That is when her mother finds them. 

“Sasuke-kun!” her mama enters the scene in a huff, “I told you to stop that, you’ll ruin her dinner.”

Sarada quickly shoves both persimmons into her mouth. Her papa has the decency to look sheepish. 

“You can’t keep spoiling her like that! She is going to get an upset stomach!” Sakura continues.

“Do you want me to spoil you too?” 

Her mama sputters, all red and flustered. Her hands move to cover her flaming cheeks.

Sarada meanwhile uses the distraction to hold out her hands for another treat. Her gentle papa instead leans down and kisses her forehead.

---

For the past year, her father and his retainers had been defending the borders between Oto and Konoha. After the dissenters were finally defeated, a grand celebration is held in her father’s honor. 

She remembers that her father was hailed as the second coming of Madara, the legendary clan head from the distant past. The comparison is uncanny, both bloodthirsty and merciless but dauntless in the face of adversary. Soon it becomes her father’s mantle; Lord Uchiha no Madara, the slayer of the Orochi. 

Sarada hadn't been invited to the banquet due to her age but that night she is much too excited to sleep. She has never seen so many people gathered in one place in her life. And even though her father’s presence makes her nervous, she loves the tales about his exploits. 

The banquet hall is rowdy and the envoy’s drunken singing could be heard from down the halls. The fuzzy silhouettes of her father’s soldiers line the banquet hall, she has a hard time making out who is who. Everything is quite blurry even with the multiple lanterns.

The only one Sarada could identify for sure is her mother. Sakura’s features are distinct, like a lone flower against the night sky. Her mother sits obediently at the head of the table beside the man that is her father. 

He has forsaken armor this time, but there is still a sword at his side. From the distance, her father doesn’t look particularly like he was enjoying the festivities. 

He appears bored. Perhaps his blood is not used to peace, after all a beast belonged in the wild and a warrior to the battlefield. 

Sakura every once and a while would refill her father’s sake cup or serve him more of the feast in front of him. Occasionally, when her mother would lean over and her father would whisper something into her ear. 

Her mama would stiffen and her face would become strained. At first Sarada can’t make out the expression, until a small smile blooms on her mama’s visage. 

Sarada goes to bed soon after, not quite understanding their interactions. 

---

Her earliest memory of Papa is halfway past her fourth year. 

Father had been back for a few days now, not that she had really seen him. And to be perfectly honest, her father is a scary man and she would rather not run into him. 

But Sarada is also curious so she puts on a brave face and finds herself outside her mother’s quarters.

Peering through the crack in the paper screen door, Sarada spots her mother’s figure and a man she doesn’t recognize. 

Her mama is leaning on the man’s shoulder while he serves her sake with his free hand. Back then, Sarada found it a strange role reversal that a man dressed in such luxurious robes was pouring her mama a drink. 

Sarada has seen some men in her father’s army throw a tantrum when a pretty lady wouldn’t attend to them. Even Sakura during official functions knows to serve her father first before anyone else can even eat.

But this man sat with her mama so nonchalantly and closely, breaking tradition as if it was nothing!

Her shock was audible to where her mother and the man turned to see her crouched by the entryway. 

Sarada felt as if she interrupted a private moment, but man’s expression morphed into something soft and Sakura giddily rushes over to pick her up. 

“Sarada! Come, come! Papa is here, see?” Sakura hands her over the stranger’s awaiting arms. She doesn’t want to leave her mama’s embrace but the man’s is just as warm. 

“Hello little peanut, have you been good while I was away?” 

How is she supposed to answer him? She opts for a nod and reaches for the familiarity of her mother.

“Sasuke-kun…” 

“It’s alright, she probably isn’t used to my face.” He leans over regardless and kisses her mother’s forehead. Then he looks Sarada straight in the eye. “I am you papa.” 

Sarada thinks she likes this ‘Sasuke-kun,’ this Papa. Someone so kind to her mother can’t be a bad man. 

----

As she gets older, Sarada becomes privy to the rumors about the current acting head of the Yamanaka clan. How her son looks nothing like her deceased husband but has the same eyes as the court painter. 

And Sarada has her own theories about her mama and the man that is her papa.

She just hopes that her father never finds out. 

---

Even though her mother is essentially the lady of the house, Sarada still hears whispers of her lineage. Even more so now that Sarada begins wearing glasses. 

Before her father leaves for his next campaign, he gives Sakura his inkan. 

As the wife of the lord, Sakura officially acts as his surrogate in any official business even if some of the family retainers aren’t happy about it. 

Fortunately, many would rather swallow their pride that incur her father’s wrath. 

All except one. 

Uchiha no Shin, a rather minor branch clan member, always disapproved of her father and even more so now that he left his wife in charge of the estate in his absence. 

It all comes to a head when Sakura denies him funding for a rather ill thought out building project. 

“You dirty wench! ” 

Sarada can hear the screams from her room. She rushes to the scene. Sakura is still standing her ground when she arrives. 

“I don’t see any benefit in this strategy and I doubt my dear lord husband would either.” 

“What do you know?! You are nothing but a plaything you stupid bitch, I’ll teach you some manners!” Shin chooses that moment to raise his hand at her mother. 

Sarada feels the anger seep into her bones but her mother chooses that moment to retaliate and punch Shin square in the face herself. 

Shin falls back unceremoniously. Sarada is slack jawed. 

“How dare you!” he seethes. Shin tries to get up only for another person to rush to her mother’s aid. 

Shin’s screams are agonizing and it takes Sarada a moment to realize that not only had her father returned, but he had drawn his sword and stabbed it clean through Shin’s arm, effectively pinning it to the tatami. 

“Sasuke-kun!” 

Sarada blinks once. Twice. 

“Are you alright Sakura?” Her father, her papa asks, completely ignoring their screaming relative. 

Sakura nods and he turns to her as well “Are you okay Sarada?” his voice deep and low but the same kind cadence up close as her beloved papa.

Suddenly her father’s mysterious and distant features that were always hazy to her meld with the papa in front of her now.  

Sarada adjusts her glasses. She feels really stupid in that moment. 

---

This time, Sarada is invited to the banquet. 

It’s an annual harvest festival and her father is the guest of honor. The local leaders once again announce him as ‘Lord Uchiha no Madara’ much to his chagrin. 

“I really hate when they call me that.” Sasuke tells them later when the food is being served and drinks are flowing freely. Sakura is on one side while Sarada is on the other. Habitually he is discreetly putting any sweets that make it his way and the tenderest pieces of meat onto their plates. 

“Anata,” with time Sarada notices that her mother only ever uses this term in public when her father needed more placating than usual, “they are just just in awe of how great you are!”

“I wish they had chosen something different, Madara was such a pain in the ass.” 

“Sasuke-kun!” Her mother tries to be scandalized but can’t help but devolve into a fit of giggles. 

As her father continues to look on adoringly at his wife, Sarada can’t help but agree with him. 

A name like that is unfitting of her gentle papa. 

A/N: Happy Sasusaku month 2021! My brain is mush right now so excuse the multitude of grammatical errors. Thank you for reading!

And just to note in historical Japan, men tended to change their names depending on significant life events. For example, Minamoto no Yoshitsune's childhood name was Ushiwakamaru.

@ssskmonth

#sasusaku #SSM21d17 #SSM21 #Sasusaku Month #ssskmonth

[kaderp]

ALRIGHT FUCKERS THIS IS GONNA BE A HELLA LONG MEGAPOST AS I WAS GIVEN THE OK

BASICALLY this is gonna be a collection of bullshit me and @blackfliesinbluesugar have come up with and drawn

It starts with Goldie still living in Ireland at 17-19 and Scrooge from ages 18-20 staying in Scotland. And long story short they're dumbasses as teens. Cliche forbidden romance type stuff. Goldie's dad has shot people in the foot for trying to mess around with Goldie or just even talk to her for too long. So the only logical explanation they have is make Scrooge hide in the barn when he visits.

Basically Scrooge chills in the barn for a while cause Goldie's the only one that ever really goes in there because she's in charge of all the chores there. Which is where the context of this post is from

After the first time they fooled around Goldie was like 'oh crap what if I got pregnant D:' and told her mom she's going through a phase of flowey/big dresses when in reality she's trying to hide a potential baby bump. Now her mom doesn't care because she's too caught up in the fact that Goldie is finally 'acting like a lady.'

So eventually because they never put together that 'hey, if we keeping doing this we're gonna end up with a baby', Goldie does end up pregnant. And because her dad is a dick and a 'I catch you with my daughter then you die' type of shotgun dad, Goldie is freaking tf out.

About a month after she finds out she's pregnant, the O'Gilt's (well mostly just Goldie and her mom lol) get invited to a fancy dinner and Scrooge is really wanting to see Goldie again. So what better way to see her than to travel to Ireland, steal a uniform, and sneak into said dinner party as a busboy. Problem is he can't risk Goldie's dad seeing him again so he tries to slick back his whiskers

But while Scrooge is running around, he eventually spots Goldie across the room. Now he's never seen her in anything fancy, usually just the flannel and green work skirt. And he just about dies 😭

By now she has a bit of a baby bump she's had to hide so she normally goes for high waisted dresses that immediately flow out.

Anyways, as Scrooge is putting on the uniform he realizes he has absolutely no idea how to actually be a busboy. He doesn't know the first thing about dining and stuff so he's just like AAAAAAA

As they both see each other, Scrooge gives a dorky grin and Goldie smiles before realizing he snuck in. Right when Scrooge goes to see her he gets dumped with a bunch of dishes he has to set. Goldie sees him struggling to figure out how to set a table and he just gives her a nervous grin while she's like 'oh you beautiful dumbass -_-'

She's turning red cause she's trying so hard not to burst out in laughter as Scrooge slips and a bunch of silverware falls on him

He's getting yelled at by the director but he's just giving Goldie a goofy grin from across the room.

Her parents: remember to be calm and not make a scene no matter wh-

Goldie watching Scrooge trip on the tablecloth: BWAHAHA

But as the dinner progresses, Goldie remembers Scrooge doesn't even know she's pregnant. So she keeps trying to tell him but they both constantly get pulled away to do other things.

Towards the end of dinner Scrooge gets a free moment and realizes then that 'holy shit I actually like really love her!' So he darts to wherever she is and is struggling to get it out cause he doesn't know how much time he has left. He eventually spits it out and tells Goldie he loves her and is immediately called away. Scrooge takes her hands and quickly kisses her cheek before running to wherever the director is calling him from.

Goldie is shocked and stays still for a moment but by the time the shock wears off she realizes Scrooge is already long gone and they don't see each other again. And now Goldie's like 'crap crap crap, he said he loves me and I didn't even tell him I'm pregnant.'

They aren't able to communicate for a while cause Goldie's so focused on trying to keep her family pleased while still hiding her baby bump, and Scrooge keeps getting sidetracked and forgetting to write. (You can't tell me that isn't something he'd do because he kept getting distracted in the life and times when coming back home). He has her address, and he has started a letter, and even his family knows about her. 3ish months pass of no communications until one night Goldie starts contractions.

She darts to the barn after the first contraction and realizes she has to do this alone. A letter takes a day to get to Scrooge and going to Scotland herself would take closer to 7 hours. At that point it would be safer to not move.

It's like 3am by the time she lays and the egg ends up being pretty small. The entire time Goldie was just getting sicker and sicker. She ends up too weak to even hide the egg and has a high fever. She seriously thinks she's not gonna make it for the first night she can barely stay conscious.

The next morning she has just enough strength to lazily hide the egg in the hay and sluggishly make her way back to the main house. Her parents are already up and she explains she started feeling iffy while doing chores and collapses.

Because her parents aren't completely heartless and she still is their daughter, her parents' main focus shifts to trying to nurse her back to health. They assume she fell with a bad flu and don't know she had spent all night laying an egg.

During this time she writes to Scrooge telling him to get over here asap, it's an emergency.

Goldie's parents take over her chores in the barn and the moment they said that Goldie went into panic mode again. During a lunch break she climbs through her window and runs to the barn to hide the egg better. She does, and she successfully makes it back to her room but collapses again and sleeps until the next day.

Scrooge arrives 3 days after she lays and now she's really panicking. She's still weak and sick, and her parents are coming closer and closer to finding the egg. Scrooge when he sees her is genuinely freaking out. Not only for the future and that he now has an egg, but because Goldie did it by herself in a dirty barn. She's still a little loopy even though it's been a few days and Scrooge just feels heart broken that he wasn't there to help. He starts going on a tangent about how she could have died but Goldie just kisses him to get him to stop blabbering.

Scrooge helps her clean up a bit cause even with her parents looking after her, she's still a mess. But as he's washing her and the egg up, they hear fighting from the main house. Her parents realized she wasn't in her bed. She starts crying and tells Scrooge he needs to run home asap because if her dad finds out he'll most definitely kill him and/or the baby.

(This was the first doodle for the au before deciding on an exact age/place/look so don't mind the sloppiness)

Scrooge escapes right as her dad comes in. She pulls the excuse of she thought she felt well enough to do chores.

Scrooge rn is running like a madman back to Scotland. He went from chilling with his family to being a father who's child needs to be kept secret within a day.

By the time Scrooge gets back home it's the middle of the night and is ngl feeling pretty overwhelmed. He tells Downy that he messed up and she's just like ??? So Scrooge holds up the egg and Downy just purses her lips like 'ah'

The next morning Scrooge explains to his family what happened and doesn't leave out any detail. Fergus and Downy obviously have mixed feelings. Scrooge is barely 19 yet he already has a kid??? But in the end they realize they can't change what's happened and focus on helping Scrooge protect this child.

Once the baby hatched, all mixed feelings from Downy erased and she just went into 'this is my grandbaby and no one will touch her' mood.

Scrooge and Goldie kept in contact from the moment Goldie gave away the egg. Because of the little incident of Goldie 'trying to do chores while sick,' she was put under close monitoring for the next few months and couldn't visit each other. After constant writing back and forth, they find a date to meet up half way between Scotland and Ireland so Goldie can meet her baby. They try to decide on baby names through the letter but they can't agree on anything. Goldie finds out that Scrooge moved out of his small Glasgow home and into McDuck Castle. He gives her the new location on the map as well.

The first time Scrooge tries to sneak out with the baby Fergus is just standing right outside with his brow arched and Scrooge starts freaking out.

Before Scrooge can apologize for trying to sneak out, Fergus just asks if Scrooge would like him to go with.

Scrooge is a little shocked but can't talk with the frog in his throat and just nods. Along the way Scrooge explains how he and Goldie have been trying to find the right time to sneak out for weeks because it was so hard for Goldie to get free time. She was sent to go across country to get supplies and uses that opportunity to go meet up with Scrooge and the baby again.

Fergus just nods and continues.

When they do see Goldie, she almost breaks down at the sight that the baby survived and is being raised in a good house hold and can't stop holding her. The baby is about 3 months old by now. They finally agreed on a name and she ended up being named Maryanne. (Yes Jelly and I chose that because it means Star of the Sea)

She has to give the baby back to Scrooge cause stupid teenage and still getting over pregnancy hormones are getting the better of her and she starts full on sobbing as she sits on the ground. Scrooge freezes cause he's like aaaaaa what do I dooooo while still holding the baby.

But Fergus crouches down to her and asks if she wants a hug. All Goldie can say is 'uh huh' and he just wraps himself around her. She hugs back and Fergus rocks back and forth until Goldie's calmed down.

'I'm sorry I pulled your son into the mess. I-I was just so scared that my papa w-would kill one of us that I didn't know what else to do.'

Fergus pulls her away so he can actually look at her. And part of him feels that tinge of fear and sadness that the two teens had experienced. He grabs onto her shoulders which causes Goldie to look up at him.

'While I dinnae agree what you two did was right. Ah'm proud of you. Because what you did, finding the will to give up a child for their own safety, took a lotta strength there, lass.' And before she can react, Fergus pulls her in again and let's it sink in.

Scrooge is still holding the baby but now he's sitting down and bouncing the cooing baby on his knee while watching the scene unfold.

Over the course of the next few months, Goldie visits as much as possible and she grows closer to the family and Scrooge every time. On the times she can't visit, Fergus accompanies Scrooge in order to protect them from Goldie's dad. She's had a few close calls with her dad, but nothing too serious

After those events, Goldie practically moves in with the McDucks and they work on raising Maryanne. However like in the Rosa series, they're still experiencing tax trouble and Scrooge says he's gonna have to go to South Africa. The baby is about 2 by now and Scrooge is almost 21, while Goldie is about 19 and a half.

(This next section was an accident but basically it started as jotting down ideas but turned into a fic after I said it would take 20 seconds to write but turned into 2 hours fjdbfndn)

Scrooge is torn between whether or not to go until Goldie says she'll go with him. And because she's stubborn, no one objects. So the three travel across the world together. Maryanne practically grows up on the sea and all of those adventures where Goldie is present in the DT17 Rewriting History book happen.

On adventures they trade off tying the baby to their backs until she's old enough to not need to anymore. Although for the more dangerous ones, one of them stays behind.

But because they weren't married and had a kid in their teens, they were generally looked down upon. It got to the point where they just started saying they were married in order to avoid conflict with others. And after a while they actually forgot they weren't in fact married

'Huh, I forgot we're not actually married.' 'WAIT WE'RE NOT???'

Or

'We're married' 'Oh ok, can i see your marriage records?' '... oh right'

But some old lady or old guy either way starts criticizing Goldie for being a young mother and they just deck the shit outta them and run. Or Goldie fighting someone with baby tied to her back.

Maryanne grows up to be an ocean cartographer and leads sailing expeditions and that's all we have for her. Also she has super blue eyes lol

That's basically almost all of the things we have for this au lol

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #disney #duck tales #don rosa #scrooge mcduck #goldie o'gilt #au #glittering goldie #scroldie #teen scroldie au #long post #really long post #megapost

[athys-obelia]

[ 1 • 2 ]

"have you ever fallen in love?"

two years after tlp!athy's execution, tlp!claude knows he stands mere months away from death.

he still remembers that first sudden stroke, the one that robbed him of most of his physical strength and mana - it is a bodily illness, the medics say, but after all, he is no stranger to curses.

it is all bearable, though - everything is bearable as along as his athanasia is beside him, after all. her kind smile, her free eyes so unlike his. claude de alger obelia is not afraid of death, never has been.

the absurdity of his inquiry strikes him with his daughter's startled expression, and he elaborates, "your mother - she used to say that if nothing else, she wanted you to fall in love. wholly and truly, with someone who understands and accepts you as you deserve to be understood and accepted. so i ask - have you, athanasia, ever been in love?"

the question resounds, echoing off of the walls of the obelian imperial family's mausoleum. jennette would hate this, him secretly leaving the palace to come here of all places, but he needs to see. how have his children constructed his final resting place? he had barely shown up to his own father's funeral.

"twice," athanasia answers, as he had known she would.

his hand trails over the gold crest of the empire on the door, the coolness of the metal lingering on the pads of his fingers. his chest pains so very much now that he's away from jennette, but he can't react. shouldn't react. athanasia would fret and worry herself to her own death before his, and his child's funeral is not something claude wants to witness. "twice?" he presses for details, voice barely above a whisper, lest she hear the pain searing through his chest.

almost as if sensing his hesitance, his veiled unease, she steps into the mausoleum before him. claude follows.

"he was like the moon, one of them," she tells him, the words whispered carefully as if the princess were scared of the ghosts of her ancestors overhearing. "enchanting. kind. he inspired me to start writing songs again - the ones jennette found in my room, remember, papa?"

"ah, yes - the ones she gave to the alpheus boy." claude approaches his casket, raising an eyebrow at it. "and yet you never mentioned him to me. i could've had you married." he traces the fine lettering on the stone - his name was already engraved into the marble, along with all his titles. claude's eyes linger on 'father'.

"you could've," she agrees, "but he was not worth the sacrifice, was not worth family. my fate, like everyone else's, was to admire him from afar."

"and this other great love of yours?"

"complicated," athanasia lets out a humourless laugh, "he was more like the sun, actually."

claude really doesn't have it in him to hide his smirk - even athanasia wouldn't be brave enough to liken someone other than him to the sun. "was he, now?"

"yes! bright and strong and warm, everything i ever wanted, and...so very far away."

he frowns, nose crinkling at the familiar scent of roses. "what does that mean?" claude turns then, to find the source of the floral odour.

to claude's right is a smaller casket, the lead of which bears the beautiful insignia exclusive to the crown heir. a single red rose - from jennette's garden, he recognizes - lays against the lid. beloved daughter and sister, it reads. princess athanasia de alger obelia.

the lid of his own casket rests against its side - hers is shut, tight. the ache in his chest spikes, triggering a violent coughing fit. his handkerchief clutched in his trembling hands, claude stares at the splotches of red.

athanasia chuckles dryly. "i didn't even get a chance to beg! so bright he was, his own light blinding him to the truth."

strength abandons his legs and his knees buckle, leaving the emperor of the world's strongest empire on his knees against the cold, hard floor. claude inhales shakily, fingers gripping the coffin with whitened knuckles.

"wh- what nonsense is this?" he manages to croak out weakly, eyes unable to look away from the name.

athanasia leans down, inches away from his shocked face. "all i ever wanted was to be your shadow, your anchor, your student. i wanted your love, too, so that i could return it tenfold. but you - you were so, so strong, papa. and strong emperors don't need weaklings like me at their side, do they?"

he stares as she leans down to brush hair out of his face, the touch nothing but a soft breeze. "shut up- shut up. i don't want to hear this anymore. i don't know what's-"

she smiles sweetly. "i used to think about you a lot, you know - 'i have the strongest papa in the world' i'd tell lily. you were my pride! they don't call you the sun for nothing, though, i suppose."

her words stir up a distinct...vision? a memory? he can feel the image forming. claude's hand shoots up to claw at his chest, trying to free some of the heat, get some air.

yes, he remembers a blade, now.

"you," athanasia calls joyously, as if she were some royal announcer, "need to come with a warning label. the people's hero, the hardworking emperor, the wise ruler! does everyone who get too close to you burn, papa?"

"guards," he calls weakly, "call the guards."

it's almost as if he can feel the life slipping out of him, but the image returns. was it an execution? a public execution? the crowd seems restless, uncomfortable. beside the chopping block lays a young girl.

"do you regret it?" athanasia asks curiously.

claude watches the executioner's cold eyes and he know exactly what is about to happen to the girl. obediently, she lays her head where the man directs it, already lifeless.

"yes!" he cries as the man's sword rises in a sharp, practised move. claude shuts his eyes, wanting nothing more than for the scene to disappear. but over, and over, and over, the girl dies. the blade falls. the townspeople cry. felix's hands keep bleeding, fisted around his own sword to keep himself in place. "so fucking much, just, please, make it stop-"

"i meant," athanasia corrects with a light grin, "did you regret hiring an executioner? tell me the truth, now, papa, haven't you always wished that sword, that hand was your own?"

he wants to negate her claim, wants to tell her no, he would never, he'd rather end himself - but the words are stuck. the air thickens.

her thumb brushes against his pale cheek. "you're dying now, aren't you? did i at least answer your question properly?"

the image of her blurs.

"if mama asks, you can tell her i did love," athanasia whispers, as if lulling a child to sleep, "i've loved twice. tell her that for one of them, i didn't dare chance a thing - and for the other, i risked it all."

® all rights reserved, do not repost without permission

#wmmap #sbapod #who made me a princess #suddenly became a princess one day #claude de alger obelia #athanasia de alger obelia #diana of siodonna #felix robane

[ohtobealady]

If you ever feel like writing again, could you please write the announcement of Cora's last pregnancy to the family. I have always felt robbed of that scene and I cannot think of anyone who can write it better than you 💖

First off, thank you so much! ✨ I appreciate that boost of confidence. And I like this prompt! I had a hard time choosing which character’s point of view to base it on. I think we see the scene in which Violet finds out - the one where Cora says O’Brian has her “wrapped in silk and feathers.” Mary was away at Rosamund’s and must’ve found out via a letter. So I have this image of Cora and Robert telling Edith and Sybil. And well … Edith seemed an interesting angle to explore for this.

I apologize because it isn’t by far my best work. But something’s better than nothing!

~~~

“Shall we go through?”

Edith looked up at Mama who had begun to rise from her chair. Edith had finished with her pudding what felt like ages ago, and had sat patiently waiting for Mama to finally eat the last of her meringue so they could go up. She pinched the napkin from her lap and placed it on the table.

“Robert?” Mama beckoned. “Are you joining us?”

Edith looked to Papa. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Mm.” And then a nod.

Ugh. Edith pushed down agitation. She was ready for bed, really. She had been looking forward to kissing Mama a good night as they left the dining room and then off to blissful sleep. It wasn’t really that much was irritating her, truthfully. Mary was away, staying with Aunt Rosamund. Thoughts of Sir Anthony Strallan also warmed her considerably. But there was something in the way Papa had smirked that suggested the evening would drag on longer than she would like.

She waited for Mama to go through and then followed her out, watching the way Mama’s dress swished as she walked. Sybil followed behind. Edith could feel Sybil’s eyes on her and she peered over her shoulder at her.

“Have you seen him lately?” Sybil whispered.

Edith looked back toward Mama. “Who?”

But Sybil, now that they were in the hall, caught up to walk side by side with her. “Yes, you do! Sir Anthony Strallan!”

Edith felt herself smile.

“Who is this?”

They’d entered the library and Mama turned around with that smile of hers — the one that suggested it wasn’t really a smile but rather a nudge, a plea to tell her something.

“Anthony Strallan, Mama,” Edith shot eyes at Sybil who did actually smile, followed by a covering of her grin with two fingers.

She felt herself blush deeply.

“I see,” Mama touched Edith’s elbow, but then walked to the couch, Papa following after her, and Edith shook her head at her sister.

Sybil only shrugged, teasingly. She sat.

Edith threw a glance at her parents, quietly speaking at the couch opposite, Mama’s pretty face angled up at Papa. Whispering.

Edith sat down next to Sybil. Her sister’s pretty face gazing toward the fire.

“I wonder if Mary is having a nice time in London.”

Edith shrugged, not teasing. “Does it matter?”

Sybil drew in a breath. “You know, you two could be happy for one another. If only occasionally.”

“Have you said that to Mary?”

Sybil shook her head. Edith noticed that she too looked toward their parents. “Why choose anything but happiness?”

Edith rolled her eyes. Easy for her to say. Sybil had the attention of so many men this season. Effortlessly. Easy for Mary. Mama had already let it slip that she was engaged to Matthew, or at least that he’d proposed. Easy, even, for Mama, who sat before them now, twinkling up at Papa. Edith sighed. “I’m just as happy for Mary as she would be for me.”

Sybil touched Edith’s wrist, in a way that reminded her so much of Mama. “Well, I’m happy for you.”

Edith felt herself blush again.

“Oh?” Mama’s attention was on them again. “Anthony Strallan again?”

Edith looked at Sybil. “There’s nothing to tell, Mama.”

“If you’re sure.” Mama tucked her chin with that coy look of hers, Papa returning from the table with a drink in his hand.

“There is something we should probably tell the both of you.”

He reached out his open hand to Mama. She took it.

Edith watched in the firelight as a new glow spread across Mama’s chest and then cheeks. She saw even Papa begin to glow, looking down at her mother.

“Your mama is expecting another child.”

Edith felt her jaw go slack. Sybil, beside her, gasped.

“Oh, Mama! Papa!” She leapt up and hugged Mama, kissing her cheek. And then Papa. “Congratulations! I can’t believe it!”

Papa was laughing.

“When?” Edith’s mind was whirling. Mama was … old. “You’re having a child . . . Soon?”

“In the new year. Probably in late December or January, darling.”

“Is it safe?” The library was quieter. Sybil’s eyes grew wide, like a warning. But Edith ignored her. “Is it not strange?”

Mama’s brow was furrowed. “Unexpected, but yes. I do believe I’ll be safe, Edith. And the baby.”

And then a thought. A rather interesting thought. “Have you told Mary?”

Edith didn’t imagine the way Mama’s face fell. “Well, not yet. I need to write to her.”

“And if it’s a boy, what does that mean for Matthew?” Edith tried to cool her smile, but she could not.

Sybil drew in a breath, and Papa, she noted, reached again for Mama’s hand. “Of course Matthew will always be welcome here,” he said. “I will tell him myself tomorrow. But —“

“— we don’t know if it’ll be a boy, Edith.” Mama interrupted, her free hand going to her abdomen. Edith suddenly noticed, with a sinking feeling, that her stomach looked more swollen that it had before. “I don’t feel we need to plan for any changes.”

“How exciting, all the same, Mama!” Sybil, kind Sybil, smiled again. “I suppose this means I’ll be an older sister.” She looked at Edith and laughed. They all laughed.

Even Edith, but she wasn’t thinking of anything but Mary. Mary, and how finally — at last — things may not be so easy for her after all.

“Well then. I’ll say good night. I’m terribly exhausted.” Mama rose and she and Sybil rose as well, kissing mama’s soft cheek.

“I’m so happy for you, Mama,” Edith heard her sister whisper. Edith has said nothing.

Papa then, too, pressed his kisses against their foreheads before leaving the library, leaving both Edith and Sybil alone.

Her silence, however, had not gone unnoticed.

“Edith,” Sybil admonished the moment she was able. “Aren’t you the least bit excited? A new baby in the house. I think it’s very sweet,”

Edith scoffed. “Of course you do, Sybil.”

“What does that mean? How do you not?”

“Our parents may be grandparents before Mama’s child is out of the nursery.”

Sybil, however, tipped her head. “And what of Anthony Strallan? He’s older than Papa! Would you think the same of him having a baby?”

“He hasn’t had any children, Sybil, so how could he be a grandparent?”

“Oh, Edith!” Sybil only smiled at that. “But the way Papa held Mama’s hand when he told us. Oh, I think it’s so romantic.”

“Should you still be in the nursery?” Edith was laughing at her again. “I thought Mama explained the nature of marriage to you before you were presented.”

“She did! But Edith, don’t you see?”

Edith stopped. They’d left the library, they’d begun to climb the stairs, and Sybil’s smiling face was alight with the glow of the candle Edith now held.

“See what?”

“Our parents are in love.”

Edith rolled her eyes. “As I said, the nature of marriage. Love is not a requirement for a child, Sybil.”

But Sybil shook her head. “And so what makes it all the more beautiful is that, for our parents, it is. I’d like to think we were all made from love.”

She saw she would not win, so Edith exhaled. “Yes. I suppose I agree. It is nice to think we exist because two people loved one another.”

“Yes!”

“Perhaps not Mary.” At this, even Sybil laughed. “Which would explain a lot.”

“Yes, Mary, too!” Sybil laughed louder, looping her arm through Edith’s, pulled her up the stairs.

#cobert #cobert drabbles #sorry it’s such a mess #truly

[tayaminaka]

Can I ask for the sacrificed s/o for daughter scenario for Ranpo, Yosano?, Tanizaki, Akutagawa, Edgar and Fyodor. You can get rid of Fyodor if the list is too long

"S/O and her Daughter were Kidnapped and S/O sacrifices herself." with Ranpo Edogawa,Yosano Akiko,Junichiro Tanizaki,Akutagawa Ryūnosuke,Edgard Allan Poe and Fyodor Dostoyevsky [Part Two]

Ranpo Edogawa

When he saw your cold body on the floor, his hands formed into fists

He was too late and that angered him

His mind is empty and full at the same time

The first days he won’t go anywhere. Simply sitting in his room, not talking to anybody until after around five day’s Fukuzawa confronts him with it

That day he had an actually mental breakdown. Yelling at Fukuzawa until tears of anger and sadness are streaming down his face

After that day he actually got better and could take care of your daughter again (Yosano helps him with it even if he says he could do it himself)

Now the Armed Detective Agency would have two little sweet tooth’s

She would sit beside him, mostly eating some candy or simply try to help everybody in the office

As a goodnight story he would mostly tell her about some cases he solved or something about you

They usually don’t speak about you or what happened. It isn’t a forbidden topic but still not really welcomed

Because it usually reminds him that he had failed

They would also go togheter to work and some sweet shops .Though she mostly brings him to them

After all she has still something from you

„Papa this is the wrong direction. We need to go left and not right.” said she as she pulled on his sleeve

He would raise her to the next great detective

When she gets old enough she would go with him to some murder scenes and they would mostly have a competition who’s gonna catch the murder first

The Armed Detective Agency would be like a second family to her

Because everybody takes care of her. Even if she gets older they would still take care of her

When she’s old enough they both would go to the cemetery

She would simply sit in front of your grave and talk to you what happened and that she misses you

Yosano Akiko

Hot tears streamed down her face as she grabbed the one who killed you by his colar with a crazy smile and turned on her chainsaw

She’s gonna use her ability over and over again on your kidnappers

First she would let them scream in agony and then simply heal them only to start over again with her torture

Until someone from the Armed Detective Agency finally stops her

After your dead she will be full with sorrow and anger

But who wouldn’t ?

Everything was perfect and beautiful until those people came

But after some time sorrow will wanish and acceptance will come

Of course she won’t forget you and the sorrow and hate will still be in her heart

But she will try to go on. For you and your daughter

She would make your daughter a cute but at the same time elegant nurse costume

Make a little bag for her and put a little first-aid-kit in it for any case

She will bring her to work and make her, her little assistant

Your daughter would mostly go around the whole office and ask everyone if they are hurt or need help

Ooh you should see her face when she saw Dazai with his bandages

She imidiatly ran to her mama because she thought that he might die

She mostly will treat little injuries like paper cuts or bruises

„Aah Tanizaki-kun, you should be more careful so that you don’t cut yourself again.” said your little daughter as she put a cute band aid on his hurted finger

Even if she gets older she would still be her little assistant and work in the infirmary with her (still with a little nurse outfit only more mature)

Sometime both would sit in the kitchen togheter behind a cup of tea, looking at some old photos of you two

Of course it’s painful for her but your daughter needs to know about those memories

God forbid that somebody hurts her daughter

Because the person will experience her extra "good" treatment

Junichiro Tanizaki

God may have mercy with those who kidnapped and killed you because he won’t

After he discovers your dead he’s in pure rage

Did you see what happened with Higuchi when she hurted Naomi?

He’s gonna make the exact same thing with your killers but much worse...without any mercy

The whole Armed Detective Agency will see him in a whole new light

After that you won’t see a smile on his face a long time

But after some time for himself and a talk with Naomi he would get a little better

Naomi would always help him raising your daughter

And of course putting her in lots of cute dresses

„Uhm...What are you doing?” asked Atsushi your ten year old daughter who was sitting under his table

„Playing hide and seek with auntie Naomi. Now put that chair back or she will find me.” whispered she and pulled the chair back to it’s place

It wouldn’t be a secret for your daughter that Naomi isn’t her real mother

But she would still love her, even if she isn’t her mom

Even if she gets older he would be still a little overprotective and he won’t hesitate to protect her with his life

Mostly after long walks togheter he would give her a piggyback ride to the dorm, like he once did it with you

If she feels sad because she misses you to much he’s gonna try to comfort her.

He would hug her, pet her head and simply give her a chance to let it all out

But he knows that all this is only a small consolation for her

Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

When he found your daughter crying over your corpse he snapped

In less than five minutes everything and everyone was dead and destroyed

Only the quite sobs from you daughter were heard in the distance as he slowly went away with her

Now that everything is over he would mostly become colder and sometimes even aggressive towards everything

Even if Gin try’s to talk to him he would simply brush her off, saying harshly that everything is fine

But don’t trust it

On the inside he’s really disappointed and sad about everything that happened. Sometimes even hating himself for his weakness

If he needs to do more work Gin will mostly help him out in her free time by babysitting your daughter

She would also teach her some self-defence, maybe even some tricks with a knife so that she’s not completely helpless

But when she’s busy too, he will go to Higuchi

She would mostly take her without any doubts and with the most happy expression ever (because her senpai is trusting her)

If your daughter is old enough and ask her nicely, she would secretly even teach her how to handle a gun

His expression would always be serious and cold but your daughter sees trought it and smiles everything he praises her or give her something

On some free days they both would go to the cemetery

Not for a long time, but long enough so that you daughter can speak a little with you and lay fresh flowers on your grave

He isn’t good with words so mostly when your daughter is crying he would get on his knee and simply let her hug him

He would mostly hug her back a little and sometimes,rarely but sometimes pet her head

That usually helps her to calm down and organize herself a little

„Don’t cry...” he said as he pulled your daughter a little more to him so that she could bury her face in his coat.

Edgar Allan Poe

Oooh how much anger and sadness shot trough his body

He couldn’t believe you were dead

Everything was like a awful nightmare and he just wanted to wake up

But you can’t wake up from reality

The first weeks he was depressed, laying in your once shared bed, hoping that maybe you would come back

He will lose his fully inspiration in writing books until one day he saw your daughters drawing where he was writing

After that he would pull himself together and soon everything would be a little normal again

After that accident Karl would be your daughters faithful companion

Everytime she would go somewhere on her own ,he would simply sit on her shoulders

When she can’t sleep or has nightmares Karl would lay right beside her so that she could cuddle with him

It usually helps her to fall asleep in such nights

But when even that doesn’t help she would take Karl and go to Poe to sleep in his bed

„Good Night, Papa...” she whispered as she nuzzle up to him a little more, holding Karl in her arms.

„Good Night...” he answered, wrapping a arm around her after he pulled th blanket a little up so that she doesn’t freeze.

He would also write books for her with the best memories you two ever had

So that your daughter can experience the most beautiful memories by herself

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Well when he found out about your dead the fate of the kidnapping was sealed

With the most serious and cold expression he ordered Nikolai to get rid of them and bring his little daughter to him

He would be a little like Akutagawa. On the outside there would be simply nothing but on the inside something in him would ache for days

When the right time has come he would introduce her properly to the members

Ivan would always call her little master. He would take care of her, protect her and make her her favourite delicious tea

Sigma would mostly babysit her and be her little friend. Even if she gets older he would be still her friend and sometimes even a brother figure

Well Nikolai would always call her either little Dos-kun or little mouse. He would aways raise her mood with his magic tricks though he sometimes overdo it...

„Papa, Papa uncle Nikolai’s head fell off.” she yelled running towards him with tears in her eyes. In the distance you could see Nikolai’s head laying on the floor with an innocent look like nothing happened

Sometimes when she has trouble with sleeping he would put her on his lap so that she can sleep in his arms while he's "working"

Nobody would know about her existence again. In every date about her would stand "Missing" or "Deceased"

When she has an ability he will use her in his plans as a little trump card because not even a soul knows that she’s still alive and with him

He will teach her all the stuff from simply unlock locks to manipulating people

He would mostly forbid her to go out and visiting your grave

After all, nobody should ever know his little mouse but thanks to his teaching she would simply sneak out when nobody is watching

She would bring fresh flowers to your grave in the summer and brush off the snow in the winter

Always having you in her memories

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs headcanons #armed detective agency #port mafia #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo edogawa headcanons #yosano akiko #yosano akiko x reader #yosano akiko headcanons #junichiro tanizaki x reader #junichiro tanizaki #junichiro tanizaki headcanons #akutagawa ryūnosuke #akutagawa ryuunosuke x reader #akutagawa ryūnosuke headcanons #edgar allan poe x reader #edgar allan poe #edgar allan poe headcanons #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky #fyodor dostoevsky headcanons #fyodor headcanons #yosano headcanons #junichiro headcanons #akutagawa headcanons #ranpo headcanons

[dongiovannaswife]

Tinta, música y tu sonrisa.

CW: suggestive bits but nothing explicit, food/eating, all the stuff that comes with tattoos, death mentions., philosophical talks (?) mentions to past trauma and abuse and small medical talk (one scene). poorlyproofreadedsorrybutimkindasadtodothat

References: Aloe vera tattoo ask.

MASTERLIST.

The sound of baby giggles makes her ears peek as soon as she steps into the kitchen, bare feet padding through the floor when she does so.

Dante and Jovi munch into their favorite puree —banana— as Giorno hums, intentionally loud and off tune in order to make them grin as they attempt to finish their plates.

“Listen, Dante, Jovi;” Giorno doesn’t turn around, busy taking care of the pancakes, arranging two in a plate. “Mom’s gonna come anytime and we need to be ready when she does, ‘kay?”

“Ma’?” Dante interrupts and Jovi giggles, turning to his mom, out of nowhere.

“Yeah, buddy. Mamá. She’ll be here in no time.”

Jovi giggles louder, “Ma’!”

Freezing in his spot, Giorno slowly straightens his back, turning around and following the boy’s stares.

Lena stands by the doorframe, arms behind her back and a bright grin in her face.

“Well, hello. Were you planning something, gentlemen?”

Jovi shakes his head, blurting out multiple no’s in between small giggles as Dante pretends to hide his spoon; drops it on the floor and goes back to staring at his mom.  Walking up, she chuckles as she kisses Jovi’s forehead, making him calm down and lean into her touch. Reaching a hand out, she takes Dante’s spoon from its spot, giving it to Giorno and receiving another one, cleaner than the last.

“Daddy’s right, boys.” Taking a seat between both boys, she fiddles for a moment with her shorts, trying to get the fabric down so her thighs don’t rub together and only then Giorno notices her outfit; black high waist denim shorts, white t-shirt and his denim jacket. Seeing this, and remembering the game he started earlier, he gulps down, turning around to take care of breakfast, listening to his wife talk with their boys.

“We’ll be out for a big part of the day,” the boys look up at her, listening intently. “Auntie Trish and Uncle Fugo will come to take care of you, but we want to be sure you’re well fed and okay before we go, okay?”

It has been said twins share an innate connection, but the Giovanna twins seem to be on another level, almost as if something else connects them: the way they turn to look at each other and then at her a surprising and interesting one.

And so they start swinging their feet as their efforts to finish their puree intensify, humming on time—just in the tune Giorno was doing before.

Lena shakes her head as a lighthearted chuckle escapes from her, turning to look up at her husband —Giorno’s already looking at her, leaning on the island with his cup of coffee in one hand and the other holding a fork with the last piece of a pancake.

Gulping down and taking a sip from his coffee, Giorno clears his throat, talking quietly right after, green eyes fixed on her black socks; curious. “You goin’ out on socks?”

Lena fakes a scowl, looking him up and down; black skinny jeans, navy blue t-shirt and black combat boots.

Giorno snorts, turning around to leave his empty cup on the dishwasher; turning around, he takes another plate with two pancakes and a cup of coffee. Walking up to the table, he puts both dishes down before he’s moving by the boy’s side. Lending his hand to help her stand up, he stays there waiting for her to fix her shorts again —with a light squeeze she pulls apart, walking up to the table and taking a seat before her breakfast., shooting him a smirk along with her response.

“Wanna match, vita mia? Why not matching outfits? ‘s been a while since we did it.”

Giorno hums, looking around the room pretending he’s thinking about it; Dante and Jovi play with his hands, making his fingers move side to side or curl, small words and blabbering mixing.

“I’d have to change my shirt, then.”

Lena hums, taking the first bite of her pancakes after cutting them with her fork and knife, a light blush covering her cheeks. Gulping it down and with Giorno’s attention fully on her, she motions at the door leading to the stairs, “I’ll take care of them, you go and change.”

Giorno smirks, sending a wink her way. Mumbling something to the twins, they grin up at their father as he stands, exiting the kitchen in long strides.

Standing by them now, fork with a piece of pancake in hand and the other reaching out to wipe some puree from Jovi’s cheek, Lena stands there, trying to finish breakfast between small talk with the boys.

The doorbell rings and she moves aside to try and see the door, but Giorno’s footsteps echo through the staircase as he descends, fixing his shirt at the last minute.

“Fugo, Trish —please come in.”

Trish Una and Pannacotta Fugo appear in the doorway and, as soon as the singer to It’s been a long time spots the twins, her eyes go wide and her grin shoots up to the sky. “Oh, my! Look at them!”

Fugo raises a hand in a gesture for her to calm down when the boys look up at the new persons, curious and bright but alert too. “Calm down, Trish. Don’t scare them.”

Walking up, Trish mumbles to herself, still amazed with the little boys before her. “Lena! I’m so glad to see you again” Leaning in for a friendly hug, both women sway from side to side as they greet each other.

Taking a seat before the twins, Trish makes herself at home, already taking care of them as Lena sits down to finish breakfast. “Okay, first off, you owe me a shopping evening; now, how have you been?”

Lena snorts, calming down to take a final sip from her coffee. “Straight to the point, aren’t you?”

Trish nods and Lena shakes her head, chuckling. “I promise we’ll go tomorrow, if you have time?”

Trish Una was no stranger to busy agendas —her career as a singer had been successful from the start, but along with that, her free time had been reduced to almost none. The pictures she had been receiving from the couple didn’t make justice to the beautiful boys in front of her.

“My day will be free, Lena. Don’t worry.” She tilts her head to the side, “May I ask where you are going?”

“Oh, I’m getting a tattoo.”

Trish’s mouth hangs open, excitement bubbling up in the shape of a bright grin that makes the twins giggle, distracted from the conversation between Giorno and Fugo with them about who was the best character in The Avengers. “What are you getting?!”

Lena winks, “Something that represents Giobaby.”

Trish smirks, “Nothin’ else?”

The way the Donna’s eyes shine as she shakes her head no says otherwise; and her mouth pronounces a lie, but Trish doesn’t care. “Nothing else, for now.”

The singer nods, humming approvingly. “Please tell me how he reacts.” She mouths, pretending she didn’t.

 Lena nods, standing from the table. “If you excuse me, I’ll go and put my shoes on,” she directs her glance towards Fugo, “Sorry I didn’t greet you before, Panni.”

Pannacotta dismisses it with his hand, shaking his head softly. “Don’t worry, I understand.”

Lena nods, looking at Giorno now. “C’mon babe, we’re gonna be late.”

Giorno’s eyes darken for a second and Fugo clears his throat, uncomfortable with the sudden tension in the air.

As soon as it came it’s gone, however, and Fugo finds himself wondering what just happened; looking around, Trish coos at Dante, Jovi already on her hip.

Fugo looks up at his friend, nodding to him. Through the years, after that catastrophic way they met again after the events of that week, Fugo had come to find some kind of strength in Giorno, spending time together and chatting.

When Giorno had first met Lena and came back blabbering about a girl, Fugo had been there, sitting back lending an ear to his flustered friend.

And out of nowhere, both men had found out they thought of the other as a brother.

The way Fugo looks at Giorno shows it —at some point he had wished Giorno had been his biological brother, wishing they could have grown together; although he hadn’t been born in a loving family, he had a loving grandmother who didn’t hesitate to comfort him when everyone turned their back on him. Deep down, Pannacotta wished Giorno had been there so he too, could have had a little bit of comfort. Loving words that made him think of something as human and natural as crying not an unnecessary and useless thing.

But he could recognize the man beside him was no longer the inexpert teenage boss he had met back then, but a man who had learned from years and years of observing. A man who no longer saw his emotions as a threat. He was young, just like him, but he was wise.

“You should go now, GioGio.” He finally musters, gifting a soft smile to the taller man. “Good luck.”

And Giorno nods, patting Fugo in the back and walking up to Trish —he gives her a nod, leaning in to kiss the twin’s foreheads.

“Bye bye, Dante, Jovi.”

The twins wave at him, bright smiles and kind eyes. When Lena peeks into the kitchen to wave at everyone and kiss the boy’s cheeks, Fugo leans back, observing the scene with wonder.

Giorno had achieved so many things in so little time it was comforting —maybe, he could do it too.

“Wanna say goodbye to mama and papa?” Trish’s voice brings him out of his daze, and he walks up to carry Jovi on his hip as both stand on the doorway, holding the twins.

A dark green Hummer H2 emerges from the underground parking, leaving behind the sound of the mechanical doors closing and rounding the corner up to the front of the mansion.

Slowing down, the tinted windows roll down just to let the couple wave at the twins, who react immediately with giggles and waves of their own; Trish softens, mouthing a goodbye of her own before the windows close again and the hummer speeds up to the huge front doors, followed by a black Ford Endeavour. Once again, the vehicles stop at the doors, waiting for the guards —Pietro and Vittorio— to open the doors for them.

Pietro stands by the hummer’s side, leaning on the driver’s side and, after a moment of talking, he wheezes out loud, proceeding to wave at them to just go. When the cars disappear and the doors close again, Fugo turns to Trish.

“Let’s go back inside.”

“Yeah, I want to help them walk around!”

Fugo snorts, amused. “Oh, trust me. These two are ‘bout to run in no time —don’t be surprised if that day is today.”

Driving into the avenue after exiting the mansion’s road, Lena hums to herself quietly, asking right after. “What time is it?”

Giorno hums in a negative, shrugging with his eyes glued to the road ahead.

“Oh,” the Donna hums to herself again and Giorno steals a quick glance, “We have more than enough time.”

“Yeah, about that…” Giorno presses his lips together, eyes flickering to the rear mirror, noticing Westwood’s car still behind them. “There’s something you should know about him.”

“…Who?”

“The tattoo artist, Rob. He’s a stand user.” Stopping by a red light, Giorno looks over at his wife —the hand clasped around the gear shifter holds in a little bit tighter for a millisecond.

Helena looks over from the cars before them, blinking slowly; her calm demeanor a genuine one, surrounded by curiosity. “Okay, I have questions; what exactly can he do with his stand? And why didn’t you say it before, if you’ve been his client for years?”

Giorno sighs, relief washing over him. Looking over as soon as the green light comes in, he speeds up slowly, taking his time to let the traffic take its course again. “He can see tattoos that would suit you according to your life; the last time I saw him, when I got the bracelet in the twin’s honor, he said he could see a specific tattoo on my back,” a single fingers uncurls itself from the steering wheel, almost as if he’s asking for a moment to make a parenthesis. “He might suggest something else, but take it easy —when I met him I knew he was a stand user because the arrow told me somehow. But… that doesn’t quit the fact that you might feel vulnerable when he starts blurting out suppositions about your past.”

Helena hums, looking down at her lap, hands intertwined together.

The hummer stops by another red light and Giorno takes the moment to reach a hand out, letting a warm, large palm rest over the skin of her thigh. “It’ll be okay, tesoro —I just wanted to warn you.”

Lena looks up at him, gulping down. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He speeds up again, retrieving his hand from her thigh, “And about your second question; I don’t know. I thought I had said it before but I guess I forgot.”

“Don’t worry about that, now I know.”

Silence settles in, comfortable and warm.

Reaching out, Lena fiddles through the glove compartment for a second, seeming to look for something.

Finally pulling out an USB, she holds it up like it’s a treasure found in the ruins of some kind of Greek temple —a grin lifts the corners of her lips, reaching her eyes; and then she’s looking at him smiling innocently as she leans in to plug it in, selecting the few options needed until the music starts coming from the speakers at a comfortable volume.

Giorno lights up, smirking at her choice. “Really? Måneskin?”

“And why not?” she shoots back, smirk and all. “You know I love it when you sing this song.”

Giorno shakes his head, quoting the lyrics almost in a sing song tune. “Parla, la gente purtroppo parla. Non sa di che cosa parla.”

Helena sighs, humming in joy; a small blush covers her cheeks as she leans closer, mumbling. “Why are you so damn cute?”

Giorno smirks, letting out a small chuckle. “Am I? Have you seen yourself in the mirror?”

“Oh please, you’re far prettier.”

Giorno scoffs, “Liar.”

“Me? Nope, Mr. Don Husband, you are, like, far prettier than me for real.”

The red light comes in again and Giorno slows down, taking the moment to his full advantage.

“Is that so, pretty baby?” the Don leans in, reaching a hand out to cradle the back of her neck with his whole palm, lips brushing against hers when he speaks. “Then I should make it clear more often,” a quick peck, “That you’re just as attractive as you see me; why else would men look at you? You think they wanna challenge me? ‘s because they can’t help it. Too bad for them, ‘cause we both know we belong together, don’t we?”

“Mhm.”

“Can’t hear you, doll. What was that?”

She sighs, stealing a long kiss, “Does that answer your question?”

Giorno hums back, smirking as he pulls back just as the green light comes in and he speeds up again. His tone changes immediately when he rounds into a corner, coming into Naples’s less touristic zone. “We’ll get there in forty, want something? Water? Snacks?”

Lena hums, looking through the mirror with flushed cheeks. “Nope, I’m okay. You want something?”

Giorno shakes his head softly, turning in a corner.

10:56 AM.

Forty-six minutes later, the hummer comes to a stop before a big tattoo parlor; despite the dark color of the outside, the building stands out from its surroundings. At the top of it rests the sign in bright neon lights that flicker, illuminating the shop’s name as they turn in, and leaving only the initials on when they turn off.

Hoping off, and taking a moment to fix her shorts, Lena looks up at the letters, looking over at Giorno as he closes the door to the passenger’s seat, waiting for her by her side. “Did he really name his shop after BlessTheFall? For real?”

Giorno chuckles, taking her hand once she’s ready, taking the first step forward. “I knew you’d say that —yes, he did. In fact, he likes most of the bands you like, if not all of them.”

Lena grins, pushing the door open. “Let’s see.”

The inside of the store is much colder than the outside, with black walls covered in artificial animal skulls; some paintings hang around, all of them perfect copies of the most successful works from Francisco Goya. Right behind the counter, ‘Saturn devouring his son’ welcomes the couple into the empty shop.

The curtain to the artist’s stations in the back moves suddenly, making both look over just in time to see a man with pink hair, gothic clothes and multiple tattoos around his arms and neck come out —a bright grin on his face when he spots Giorno.

“Giovanna! It’s been a while since you came, man! But wait, —” he turns to Lena, squinting as he comes to a stop before the couple in the middle of the reception. “—Aren’t you the lady who scheduled the appointment at eleven?”

Helena nods, answering confidently. “Yes, I am.”

Rob brightens up as the pieces start to come together. “Oh, I see! You did say your husband had come here multiple times,” he looks back at Giorno, smirking up at him. “Man, you could have said you’d tell your wife about this place, I could have set something for her. A lady deserves only the best.” He finishes with an exaggerated bow.

Giorno shakes his head, pride shining through his being. “No need, she loves these kinds of things.”

Rob nods, enthusiastic. “Well, if that’s true then I’m flattered to have you here.” Gesturing at the couch in the reception, he walks up to the one with just one seat, he sinks into the soft cushion, letting his body slide through it until he’s sitting with his back and his legs are arched —his butt hangs in the air, but he doesn’t seem to care as he grins up at the couple, gesturing at the couch before him again. “C’mon, there are some things I’d like to ask before we start.”

Giorno hums, letting Lena guide him to the couch, where they get comfortable soon; his arm draped around her shoulders and her head on his chest.

“Okay,” Rob starts, looking around the studio first, noticing the hour in the clock hanging in the wall behind the couple. “You came exactly at eleven. I’m surprised. No client has done that, except for Giovanna, maybe.”

Giorno chuckles, “She’s really excited; Lena’s a fan of tattoos, but didn’t know what to get until now.”

“I understand,” Rob nods twice, looking down at his hands which are entwined above his stomach. “I like to have a talk with my customers before the actual season, Lena.”

As Rob seems to search his words thoughtfully, Lena’s attention falls on the tattoo on his eyelid —cursive font perfectly done but its message is not something she can read when Rob suddenly looks up at her, finding the words to the question he had wanted to ask. “What kind of person are you when it comes to this, ma’am? I get you might love body art, but there are two types of people when it’s about tattoos; first,” he raises a finger, counting physically. “The emotional; they want something special, something to remind them of their reason to be, or just to feel free after a rough time. I am one of those —I spent half of my lifetime trying to prove to my brother I was worthy of his attention, in the end,” he closes his eyes, pointing at his tattooed eyelid with the hand that is not counting on; the tattoo reads ‘perfect’. “I realized I am perfect in my own kind of twisted way.”

“Two,” he adds another finger to the count, dropping his hands on his stomach now, “The other type is the F-I-I-L-T-T,” he takes his type spelling it, eyes looking up at the ceiling in search of concentration, adding the explanation to the initials right after. “Fuck It I Like This Thing; might as well get it tattooed;” he looks now at the couple, smirking with humor on it, almost as if he’s remembering something. “Crazy shit, catch me?”

Giorno nods, already familiar with Rob’s speech —Rob had been the tattoo artist of all his tattoos; to him nothing about Rob was new. But he knows this is new for his wife and, although she’s open to all kinds of people, he still looks down at her, finding her expression surprising.

A soft smile lifts the corners of her lips as she looks at the paintings around them, thinking of her response. Soon enough, he sees the way she looks back at Rob, determined and strong. Like always. “Emotional, definitely. The lion I’m about to get represents him,” she looks now at him, making his chest tighten with the sudden warmth radiating off her. “When I met him I knew he was someone important, but as we got closer, I realized he had presence, he could stand in the middle of a crowded room and everybody would know who’s him, and they would bow down at him. Like a lion. He’s proud but not insolent, smart, and kind hearted.”

“The flowers represent something —someone— else.” Rob digs in, nodding. “We know.”

Lena looks on, frowning slightly. “Excuse me? ‘we’?”

Rob rubs the back of his neck, “Parenthesis time, ma’am.” He looks at Giorno now, “Are you safe to talk about that here and now?”

Giorno nods, gesturing with his head at the entrance, where Westwood leans on the glass, giving them privacy but keeping track of them, too.

Rob sighs, looking at Lena again. “I am a stand user. But I’ve always been agnostic, and although I know stands are not tied to deities, their existence is not something I can understand yet, even If I’ve been a stand user from birth. I use ‘we’ to refer to myself and my stand, because I can’t accept that my stand is a part of my own being… Yet.”

Lena nods, adding in a small, respectful tone. “But you do refer to it as ‘my’, Rob.”

Rob blinks. Once. Twice. And he laughs, nodding. “Yeah! You’re right! I guess…” he rubs the back of his neck, looking at Giorno now, grinning. “Man, this woman’s just too smart.”

Giorno chuckles, humored. “She is,” he rubs a finger on her arm, looking over at her just in time to catch Lena’s amused smirk. “But she has a point.”

Rob falls silent for a moment. “I guess I do accept it, unconsciously. I never realized that until now.”

Lena nods, humming. “It happens. The mind is still an enigma at some point —that’s why we aren’t done investigating and learning about it.”

Rubbing his chin with two fingers, Rob nods multiple times. “You’re damn right, ma’am. Now, may I ask about your future plans? Are you considering other designs? Because if not, we could recommend some to you.”

“Here we go.” Giorno mumbles, smirking as he watches the blue aura surround Rob, extending down until he disappears. Soon enough, the blue haze disappears and there stands, just by Rob’s side, a creature that resembles an Oni on its appearance; four arms and four legs, two faces and pencils held tightly on his fours hands.

“Mrs. Giovanna,” Robs chimes in, smiling. “This is my stand, Ic3peak.”

“I was told you can suggest tattoos?”

Rob nods, looking over at Giorno. “I see you gave her an introduction?”

“Indeed.��� Giorno nods, moving a hand to gesture at Ic3peak as it walks up to Lena slowly, a pencil ready with three arms holding the parchment up. “I’m sure you understand everyone has things they need to tough out: to have someone mention them so casually might hurt.”

Rob nods, “We know.”

Ic3peak stops right before Lena, eyes boring into her for a second before it lets out a low grunt —nose cranky when it sniffs her; and then it stops, looking down at the parchment and lifting an expert hand up, tracing quickly.

Grunting again, the stands shows the design to its user first, and then to Lena.

A grinning mouth with a finger over it in a gesture of silence.

“Oh,” Rob starts the explanation, voice low with sadness. “This one… The classical silence; a life so demanding where a family made it clear that the game was about listening to everyone; the price to pay was craving to be heard.”

Lena shakes her head, “I’m sorry, Rob, but I wouldn’t get that. “I’m...” she looks on, although her gaze seems to go far away than that room. “Still recovering.”

Rob nods, speaking a bit louder so he can bring her back. “I understand! So, what about this next one?”

Icep3ak moves to stand between the couple, sniffing both now for a couple of seconds before it repeats the same action from before; this time, however, it discards the parchment onto the small bag hanging around its waist, retrieving another parchment were it quickly sketches something that’s shown to Rob in a matter of seconds.

Rob lights up, grinning like a schoolgirl. “Ah, yes! Your love!”

Ic3peak turns to show the couple the sketch of a small potted aloe vera plant.

“Aloe means healing, protecting and affection —I can see you’ve done a lot of healing together. Besides, just the way you look at each other makes me feel kinda jealous.” The tattoo artist clears his throat, proceeding with his explanation. “I’d suggest you get it on your neck —it’s gonna look pretty and you’ll get to match every time unless you wear turtlenecks, which in my opinion suck. But that’s not the point; whaddaya think?”

Giorno looks down at his wife again, finding her reaching out to Ic3peak. Ever so gently, she asks if she can have the parchment and the stand, with its eyes glowing a gentler shade of purple, gives it up.

“Baby…” she mumbles, leaning on his chest with the parchment in her hands; the sketch fully displayed for both of them to see. “I think this suits us.”

Giorno hums, tracing a finger above the ink almost as if he’s thinking about the way it’d look on both of them. Gazing at her again, he mumbles his answer. “What if we wait until this first tattoo heals? Besides, the neck is one of the most painful areas.”

“I know,” Lena hums, nodding to herself. She puts the parchment on her lap, careful with the way she does it. “I think this is a big yes.”

Rob nods this time, grinning. “You have my number, call me when you want. By the way, does he know?”

Giorno’s quick to reply, “Know what?”

Rob’s mouth hangs open in surprise —even his stand disappears suddenly. And he fiddles, moving uncontrollably until he manages to sit like a normal person and stand up, nervously walking into the back again. “You have something to talk about and I wanna give privacy sooooo! I’m leaving —” before he disappears through the curtain, he adds something else. “Just don’t do ‘the do’!”

When Ungrateful by Escape the Fate starts blasting from the back, Giorno turns to Lena, eyebrow arched in wonder and curiosity. “Is there something I should know, doll?”

Lena looks around, shrugging and smiling innocently. Pulling away, she stands up, that same smile and mischievousness present as she comes closer again.

Squinting slightly, Giorno moves along her, spreading his legs further so she can sit in one of his thighs only: without having to put her legs all across his lap (although he had wished so, the situation and place were not the right ones).

One of her arms ends up comfortably draped around his neck with the pads of her fingers resting against the ends of his hair, which rest by the nape of his neck. Her free hand snakes around his left arm, bringing it up to her face.

She inspects the tattoo around his wrist —two perpendicular black lines, united by one hydrangea in the outside of his wrist; there is enough space for a third line. The hydrangea is detailed enough to stand out from the simplicity of the two lines.

“Gio.” She calls and Giorno looks up from their hands, directly into her eyes. “Do you think this tattoo—” she brings his attention back to the tattoo around his wrist, pressing her open palm against his, “Would look good on me?”

The gears in Giorno’s head turn at the speed of light, realization failing into him with a deep, sudden; “Oh.” And a smirk makes its way to his lips, lifting the corners of them and letting his dimples stand out. Even the light in his eyes grows. “So you want to get this for the twins, too?”

Lena hums, grinning. Intertwining her fingers with his, she looks into his eyes again. “What do you think?”

“It’d look beautiful —not just because it’s you, but because of its meaning. If that’s how things are, then I’d be more than happy to see you get it too but…” he sighs, “Don’t you think it’s too sudden? We don’t know how you’ll do with the one on your thigh.”

She nods, looking around briefly before she’s looking at him again. “You’re right, but I’m positive I can take it.”

Giorno nods, unsure if he should protest, but knowing she has to test the waters first. It’s just normal for her to think so and if she can’t take it, Giorno’s positive she will let him know.

“Okay,” he nods, closing his eyes along with his nod. When his eyes open again, he looks back at her, giving her a soft, understanding smile. “I’m with you.”

Lena leans in, smiling and mumbling into his lips: “Thank you, babe.” Before delivering a quick and sweet peck to his lips.

“So…” Rob comes out, black gloves held tightly in their package and a grin stretched across his face. “Are we ready? I… Just got everything set up.”

Giorno nods and Lena stands up with Giorno following her. He stands before her, shielding her as she fixes her shorts again —masking his intentions with a genuine question.

“Rob, is it okay if I—”

“Yep, yep, Giovanna! You can be there, after all, it’s going to be a hard session; I estimate eight good hours, so!—”  he closes his eyes, leaning sideways so he can ‘look’ at Lena, even if she’s done with her shorts. “What kind of music do you like, ma’am? When these kinds of long sessions happen, I like to play the client’s favorite music.”

Lena smiles and Giorno pats Rob in the back, letting him know it’s okay to open his eyes.

“Escape the Fate is okay for now —In fact, I think your music will be more than okay.”

Rob grins, chuckling as he gestures over at the artist stations.

“And Rob?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Giovanna?” he looks over his shoulder, looking back as soon as they make eye contact.

“Thank you.”

Rob shakes his head, smiling. “If there’s something this beast of man taught me,” he points at Giorno like it’s nothing, dropping his hand right after. “Is that being a gentleman costs nothing.”

“Most men think that will melt their masculinity.” Giorno comments, eyes momentarily glued to the perfect replica of ‘The Colossus’ by Francisco Goya, too.

Rob snorts, “Well, they can gladly fuck off. If you ask me, women deserve way better.”

Lena nods, agreeing silently.

“Well,” Rob stands aside, holding a black curtain up for the couple to come into the room first, “This is the Valhalla; the place AC/DC were talking about when they halfway to it; the emancipation of expression; the sexy bitch David Guetta was talking about; the Oasis from Ready Player One; the miraculous LadyBug wishes she could have; Gojo’s Domain Expansion… This is my station.”

Giorno and Lena look into each other’s eyes, puzzled expressions mending together as Rob comes in after them, dropping the curtain.

“Your… Station is cool, Rob.” Lena looks on, trying to find the right words to say after his sudden speech —even if she’s on it, she’s genuinely amazed with the manga panels from different series and franchises that cover every inch of the walls. In the center of it, framed in a deep green frame, Pink Dark Boy’s anime announcement poster. Its colors stand out —but the cherry on top is the noticeable firm at the corner.

“So,” Giorno grins, plotting. “Pink Dark Boy is your new hyperfixation?”

Rob grins, turning to the couple. “Yeah! I’m really excited about the anime!” he walks up to the poster, carefully patting it twice. “This bad boy was signed by Kishibe-sensei! ‘S my baby.”

“I see,” Giorno nods, shooting a compliant smile to his wife, whose expression is the same when Rob turns to both of them in a quick motion.

“Oh for fucks sake, you know him?!”

“Yep!” Lena speaks up as Giorno chuckles, nodding along. “He’s a good friend of ours.”

“I could always get you a signed manga collection, if you want to.” Giorno offers, sitting down at the couch, where his view of the tattoo chair is clear.

Rob sighs, grinning dreamily. “Dude, I could kiss you right now.” He raises a finger, imitating Jack Sparrow’s tone and voice. “But nope.” He drops the act now, gesturing to Lena and then at the tattoo chair. “I’d be forever grateful with you guys, this series means a lot to me… On a personal level, Kishibe’s work makes everything better.”

Lena nods, humming as Giorno listens only. “We understand,” she and Giorno share a look. “We’ll do our best to get you that, and probably more.”

Rob nods, going silent: however, he still walks around with a smile, getting ready.

“Oh,” he lights up, looking at Lena with a wide grin. “I will ask again because I am a compassive man; what kind of music do you like, ma’am?”

Giorno smirks, knowing the answer and predicting Rob’s reaction already.

“Metal, rock and its subgenres; in fact, I like a little bit of everything, but not nightcore.”

Rob claps twice, looking over at Giorno, just like he thought it’d be. “You just became my favorite customers!”

Giorno laughs —the sound rumbles through his chest as he throws his head back and his dimples stand out. His wife chuckles, shaking her head.

“’Kay,” Rob comes to a stop beside his laptop, which is connected to the studio’s speakers. “Anything to start? I’ll play a playlist with diverse music, but I gotta give you the honor for the first song, ma’am.”

Lena looks up, tracing her lip with a finger, deep in thought for a moment. “Let’s see… ‘RX overdrive’ by Crossfaith.”

Rob nods, typing. “Don’t know them, but I’ll do soon; anything else?”

Lena grins, looking at Giorno: he returns the smile, winking as he finishes her sentence.

“Motionless in white and she’ll be more than happy, Rob.”

Rob chuckles, “First; those guys are really good and two; please stop finishing each other’s sentences, it's cute but terrifying.”

The couple chuckles as the chosen song starts playing.

Rob takes the transfer paper with the design already there, coming to a stop before Lena and inspecting the table with the sealed inks and equipment before turning to take a look at the area he’s going to work in; and he nods to himself, mumbling. “Hmh, just gotta prepare the skin.”

Rob looks up, grinning as he looks down to cut open the glove’s packaging, taking them out and putting them on. “Alright, ready? I hope you had a proper breakfast, cause this shit’s about to get real.”

Lena nods, smiling. Turning to Giorno she gives him a thumbs up that he corresponds with the mumbling of a ‘you’ve got this.’

Six hours later, after a few breaks to take a deep breath, manage the pain, bathroom breaks and a food break, Rob leans back, sighing with a wide smile through his mask. “We’re done with this piece, Lena.” He takes a moment, still not used to calling her by her name.

Lena hums, sighing tiredly. “Good, are you still up for the other?”

Giorno stands up, coming to a stop a meter before them so he doesn’t contaminate anything, just in case. “Wait, are you sure you can take it?”

Lena nods, looking between the two males as she responds. “It didn’t hurt that much, but I did get tired from being in the chair.”

“Fair enough,” Rob looks back at Giorno, giving him a kind and calmer smile. “If she’s up to it, me too.”

Giorno looks back at Lena, nodding after a moment of looking into her eyes, noticing her strength and resolve.

“Alright.”

Rob nods, straightening his back, cleaning the area before putting on bandages.

“Okay, Lena. I must warn you first; the wrist does hurt. So…” he retrieves the paper with the transfer paper with the other design. “Feel free to ask for breaks; it might be faster, since it’s a smaller design and I already did it for your hubby over there; but I understand all people are different. Anytime you need a break, just say it.”

Lea nods, giving him a bright smile. “Thank you, Rob.”

‘Hail to the king’ by Avenged Sevenfold starts playing with its characteristic riff —and so Rob starts working on the next piece, a grin on his face and a sigh from Lena’s part as Giorno calls Trish in search of updates about the boys.

7: 23 PM.

“Come back soon! We can go out and drink something!” Rob waves, grinning and, gasping, he adds; “I wanna meet your twins, please let me know when you—” he looks at Lena, “Heal those tattoos. ‘Kay?”

Helena grins, bright and kind; “Of course, Rob!”

Rob nods, agreeing and, clasping his hands together, he tilts his head to the side, exaggerating his gestures. “And please, please, please let me tattoo you something that represents your relationship!”

“We will, Rob —thank you.” Giorno nods as he responds and Lena waves when the Hummer H2 pulls into the street followed by Westwood’s vehicle.

Silence settles in, filled only with the rhythmical tune of ‘Pray for me’ by The Weeknd as Giorno focuses on driving and Lena, by his side, looks down at the wrappings around her wrist and thigh.

Not so long after the The Weeknd’s voice fills the silence Giorno looks over, stealing a glance at his wife. Letting a smirk reach his lips as he looks on, he asks: “Looking good, hm, baby?”

Lena looks up, a sudden blush covering her cheeks and lighting up the few freckles under her eyes. “Yeah! I mean, I love them and… I think they suit me.”

“Of course you look good, Helena.” He slows down just so he can look into her eyes for a moment before looking forward, adding in a gentle tone. “You always look good, whatever you wear… Or don’t.”

Lena snorts, nodding. “Alright, I get it —I guess this is your way of asking what’s on my mind, right?”

Giorno’s smirk widens; a silent affirmation.

“I’m just…” she gestures around, vague and almost as if she’s trying to figure it out. “You know,” she grimaces, “These can get infected if I don’t take great care of them.”

Giorno nods, finishing her sentence for her, seeing her struggling. “You’re worried about an infection. But if I may say, in the hypothetical case you do it the normal way, then I’m sure you’d take care of them just right, because…” he gestures at her with his hand, putting said hand back into the gear shifter. “I mean; it’d be an irony for someone in the medical field to get that.”

“Woah, woah, hold on there, Giobaby.” She raises her hands up, confused and curious at once. “What do you mean by ‘hypothetical’?”

Giorno grins, looking at her through the corner of his eye. “Ups?”

“’Ups’ my ova—“

“Let me explain, doll,” he chuckles, low and full of fun. “Every time I’ve gotten a new tattoo, Bocelli’s stand gets me something to make the healing process faster; say a normal person’s tattoo was gonna take a whole week in the healing process, mine takes less: four or three days. Doesn’t really hurt and the wrappings are not needed: just your normal hydration routine.”

Lena nods, shooting back a question. “And why did the twin’s tattoo heal in more time? Why didn’t Bocelli help with that one too?”

Giorno shakes his head, “The date... Coincided with one he’s still hurting over.”

Silence settles in again.

“I forgot.” Lena whispers after a while, looking through the window. Perhaps saddened.

“Hey—” Giorno murmurs, letting Gold Experience’s arm manifest and take the gear shifter as his hand reaches over, taking hers carefully. “It’s okay.” He looks on, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles carefully, avoiding her wrist so he doesn’t hurt her. “The thing is that Bocelli will come home today and help you heal them faster: infections are completely out of the way with this method.”

Lena nods, leaning over until her lips touch his cheek, holding his hand. Scooting closer to the edge of her seat, she takes a moment to unclip her seatbelt and sit at the edge of her seat just to lean her head onto the Don’s shoulder.

“Panni and Trish have been with the boys all day; do you think we can cook something to make up for that?”

Giorno hums, stopping by a red light and turning to her, he dips his head down, stealing a slow kiss from her. “Takeout or cooking night?”

Helena grins into Giorno’s lips, taking a kiss from him before she pulls back, putting her seatbelt back on. “Cooking night?”

“Cooking night. Arroz con leche?”

Lena nods, smiling —until a yawn interrupts her and she covers her mouth with her hand, straightening her back in an attempt to trick her system and forget about the sleepiness.

Giorno’s eyebrow arches, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. “Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll wake you up once we’re home.”

“Mhm.” Giving him a small smile, Lena shits again, taking her —his— denim jacket off and turning again to lean her seat back, she unclips her seatbelt and shifts back again until she’s laying down into the seat, covering her legs with Giorno’s denim jacket.

“Babe.” Giorno chuckles in amusement, looking over as the red light comes again and he makes sure the flashers are on. “We can stop and let you climb into the back.”

“Mhm, ‘m okay here. Jus’ need a nap.”

“Alright, aright.” Intending to take the gear shifter with his own hand, Giorno’s heart melts when she grasps his hand, holding it as she drifts off.

Only then, when the silence in the car is evident, filled only with the soft murmur of the music in the USB coming to an end Giorno stops it, letting only a comfortable silence linger he notices the way the sunset has started to paint the buildings and people around in warm colors: from reds and oranges to yellows: everything’s bathed into strong and comforting colors.

Looking down to make sure his wife is not bothered by it, he instead finds a better image.

Features relaxed and hair sprawled under her head, it's only her hair the one under the warm light, turning into a mix of blond and red hairs framing her.

Like a halo, he thinks, before Westwood speaks up through the radio, bringing his attention back.

“My god, Lena, please write down that recipe! It’s so good!”

Lena chuckles, raising a finger in a ‘wait’ signal before she disappears inside, leaving Giorno and Bocelli with the twins and a confused Trish by the door.

“What is she doing?” Bocelli mumbles, glancing down at Jovi, who’s drifting off.

“You’ll see.”

Walking up to the door, Lena lifts a small container up —Trish reacts out of surprise, holding her hands forward and taking the glass container from Lena, she lifts it and inspecting its contents, her face lights up as soon as realization hits her.

“But Lena! I can’t accept this —I mean, is this okay for you?”

She waves it off, “Please accept it as a gift, plus, I’ll send you the recipe soon.”

Trish chuckles, shaking her head. “Okay, see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Send me a text to plan it all?”

“Sure!” Trish walks down the stairs, turning when she seems to remember something. “We gave them a bath, that’s why they are so sleepy!”

Giorno nods, letting a rare smile show. “Thank you, Trish.”

Trish waves goodbye one last time, walking down the stairs and into the backseat of Fugo’s car.

Waving them off, Bocelli stays by the door until Fugo’s Cadillac disappears from the mansion’s doors.

“Well,” the old man comes back in, holding the boy closer now that he’s asleep. “You should put them to bed so we can take a look at your tattoos and get Type O Negative to work.”

“Of course. And Enzo?” Taking Jovi from him, Lena gifts him a kind, warm smile.

“Yes, Donna?”

“Thank you for coming.”

Bocelli bows his head, sitting down on the couch —reaching up to the necklace hidden under his suit. Pulling it out, he holds both items between his fingers; a heart shaped locket and a ring.

“Lena.” Giorno calls and Bocelli looks up, startled with his presence. “I’ll put them to bed, you can take a shower just so you can be ready for the procedure; that would be the best, no?”

Bocelli looks up, almost grateful for Giorno —had it not been for his intervention, he’d be drowning in his memories.

“Yes.” He looks at Lena now, letting his necklace fall, unbothered about hiding it. “Just follow your artist’s instructions.”

She nods, walking up to Giorno and mumbling something before both walk upstairs.

“Well,” a green haze surrounds Bocelli as his stand, a group of small creatures dressed in green nurse uniforms appear around him and in different spots of the living room. “We’ve got work to do, Dermatologist.”

The chosen one stands up, running up from his spot on the coffee table and stopping by Bocelli’s feet, it jumps until it lands on his thigh, nodding frantically.

“Let’s wait for our patient, shall we?”

“Yeah, about that —I’m pretty sure the Foundation will need to look around for doctors and specialists.” Giorno’s voice is laid back as he speaks up and Lena gets to hear while she walks downstairs, dressed in a comfortable black silk nightdress.

“When the time comes I will lend her a hand, don’t worry.”

“Gentlemen, can we take a break from work?” Stopping by the couch Giorno’s sitting in, Lena smiles at the men as they look up at her.

“Of course, Donna. Let’s talk about your treatment instead —I have an update regarding this.”

Giorno gestures over, draping an arm over the back of the couch when Lena sits down by his side.

The Dermatologist jumps into Bocelli’s shoulder, bowing at the couple in a silent greeting while its user explains. “We’ve made this treatment effective enough to be able to heal overnight; however, the effect won’t kick in as it did before. Do we know what prolonged release is?”

“Yeah,” Lena speaks up. “When a dose of medication is administered but its release in our system’s slower, extending the period of administration. It can help when we want to reduce the possible side effects. Pretty effective.”

Bocelli nods, “That’s what we are doing.”

Giorno speaks up this time, not so versed in the medical language. “So this means she’ll get to heal overnight without having to be put to sleep right now, when your stand’s starts working?”

“Indeed, Gio.” The old man nods again. “If you agree, we can start now. I’ll leave as soon as we are done.”

Giorno stays silent, looking over at his wife; any decision she takes, he will support it.

Finally, Lena responds. “One condition; it’s late and I don’t want to risk any of you. Please stay over for the night —the guest’s room is there for you.”

Bocelli chuckles, eyes lighting up with the Donna’s kindness. “That’s fair. So,” The Dermatologist jumps from his shoulder and Bocelli’s hand is there for it to stand on his palm. “Shall we start?”

“Sure.” Shifting, unsure of what to do, Lena just watches as the small specialist runs up to her, climbing onto the couch and running up to her.

“First,” Bocelli scoots closer, inspecting the thigh where the lion’s head is. “This one. It’s a big piece, since it covers all your thigh.” He looks back, looking between them. “But nothing we can’t fix.”

The Dermatologist’s little hands inspect the area too, nodding after a moment. Calling for the nurses at the other side of the room, the small creatures rush over too, circling her.

After a moment of inspecting, the Dermatologist reaches a hand out to the closest nurse, who fiddles for a moment until another nurse passes a small potted cream.

Looking up at Lena, the Dermatologists motions her over. It gestures multiple times until Lena looks back at Giorno, unable to understand.

Giorno, in the same situation, looks over at Bocelli. “Something wrong?”

“Oh no,” the old man shakes his head. “It’s just warning you they will start the procedure now.”

“Oh.” Giorno and Lena nod, both in acknowledgment and realization.

The Dermatologist’s hands take a small portion of the cream, starting to apply it in circular motions; first in just a small area to see and taste for any side effects or discomfort. When it looks up and Lena nods in silent consent, it keeps going.

When both tattoos are covered and Lena yawns, leaning into Giorno’s shoulder, the old man hums in approval.

“There it is —it’s starting.” He looks down, accompanied by the Dermatologist, who nods and jumps in excitement.

“Thank you, Enzo.” Giorno’s free hand reaches out for a handshake that Bocelli accepts.

“Always a pleasure, Gio. Now,” he groans when he stands up, watching the Dermatologist and the nurse run up to him and disappear in a green haze. “If you excuse me, I am in need of a long night of sleep.”

“Of course, let me show you the way.” Lena pulls back, sitting straight so Giorno can stand up —until they’re cut off by Bocelli, who’s glancing at them through kind, warm eyes.

“No need, I know the way. Please take care of her and rest.”

Lena looks up, smiling through her tiredness. “We will, thank you. Sleep well, Bocelli. I hope the boys don’t wake you up at night.”

“Don’t worry about that, I love them as if they were my grandsons…” he trails off as realization hits him, but keeps going on trying to pretend he wasn’t taken off guard by his own comment. “I wouldn’t be bothered by them; if anything, please let me know if there’s something I can do for them.”

“Of course.”

By the time he goes back to bed after checking the security cameras, the locked doors, the guards and making sure the boys are asleep and safe, Giorno finally opens the door to their shared bedroom, closing it behind his back with a tired sigh.

Tiptoeing to the bed, he sits on his side, taking his shirt off and letting it by the bedside before he’s rolling into his side of the bed —an arm reaching out to her. Finding the warmth of her body and the deep curve of her waist, he pulls her closer, humming when she shifts to mend into his body, passing an arm around his hip.

Dipping his head down blindly, he gets to press a soft kiss against her temple, mumbling into her hair; “Lena?”

She murmurs some sort of acknowledgment, mixed words in two languages —loving and wondering, still.

Giorno shits, humming low as his mouth finds her neck. There, he presses another small lingering kiss; voice barely a whisper but oh so deep and tired at once when he mumbles. “I think there is something we left unfinished… This morning.”

Lena hums, agreeing as her arm runs up and down his hip and thigh, sincere caresses given through clumpy hands. “Mhm, ‘s right.”

“But…” he murmurs once again, rolling onto his back and bringing her along with him in a sudden wave of strength, wrapping her in his arms until he shifts again until he’s in the middle of the bed. Only then he lets go, keeping his hands on her back and hip, holding her there; Lena then shifts, getting comfortable on top of him.

Only when she hums approvingly he finishes his sentence. “We’re all worn out —might as well finish that later.”

“Please.” Lena barely pronounces, ear presses into the place his heart rests, lulled by the rhythmical tune of it.

Giorno hums again, giving into his need to sleep. With one last glance into the baby monitor and Lena’s sigh, he finally closes his eyes, falling into deep slumber.

#GioLena #read the warnings pwease ;w; #and do not let this floop it took way too long ;w;