#and they all acted like it hadn't occurred to them before?? even though this building is 100 years old????

[coquelicoq]

i have been spending so much time adulting lately AND i just remembered i still haven't even done my taxes UGHHHHHH i am so tired. going to watch the two hours of kim's convenience scheduled on pluto every weeknight and edit some crosswords during the commercials.

[writing-whump]

Ear infection

Isaiah reunites with his younger brother Arnie. Separation angst, ear infection, vomiting.

The university was busy before Christmas. The holidays carried many excuses for events and special offers that attracted potential students. As an assisting student at the psychology faculty, Isaiah was tasked with doing these little tours around the main university building. At regular hours, whether there was a whole high school trip of soon-to-be graduates or just a handful of interested mothers dragging their kids along. Or curious gap year takers thinking about their future plans. Since starting in the summer semester was possible at most faculties, these tours were relevant at the end of the year just as much as at its start.

Isaiah liked it. He felt a sense of beautiful responsibility that his tour and comments of the building's history and insight into student life could inspire someone to choose the main university or even his faculty. It was like watching the new generation pick its way.

"But why do not all classes occur here?" asked someone from the little crowd he gathered.

"The main university building is usually reserved for big lectures. We are talking about 300-500 people. The new university building has smaller classrooms that are more fitting for seminar settings of 20-30 people," he explained dutifully.

"So the university has more than one building?"

Yes, that was a favorite confusion question. "The university has many building complexes all over the city. The main building we are at is the largest and oldest one, but the newer ones are down both these streets. The new institute building or NIG is right next to it, where most of the faculties have their own floors and their respective teaching stuff have their offices."

"So it's like each faculty has a building or floor reserved for them? Like their own base?"

"Yes, that's a good comparison," Isaiah agreed. Base was a very wolf-related word, since each pack had their own base or layer in the city. It was correct, he just never used it in this context.

"What are you studying, sir, if I may ask?"

Isaiah was starting to be curious about the young male voice that kept asking as well, letting the group continue down the hall as he stood, trying to pick out his face.

"Psychology. Almost done with my master," he replied, turning his head.

"And you are already an assistant? That's nice for a mere student. And they don't mind you are a wolf?"

Isaiah's head jerked upright. Some people from the group hesitated mid-step to give him a confused look.

Isaiah was a wolf, a known one at that, and officially admitted at the faculty. But he prided himself in appearing completely human, in not letting his shadow act out of place. Ordinarily, he could do it with such finesse and skill, that a crowd of strangers wasn't able to recognize he was a wolf.

"Wolves can study at the university at any faculty they want," Isaiah recited automatically. "As long as they have their graduation and the wolf adult exam behind them."

"Are you saying there is no danger whatsover, when humans study with wolves?"

Isaiah could pick out a blonde head, but the boy asking was covered by a group of higher boys in front of him as they trailed after the group.

"There is danger whenever humans do anything together," Isaiah replied with a raised eyebrow. The group was almost at the end of the line,...finally the person asking came into view.

A mop of thick blond hair, carefully styled into locks. His face was long and elegant, though his cheeks still had that youthful fluffiness of teenage years. He looked a lot like Hector, just thinner and smaller, with way less muscle, but all the more cheekiness. His eyes weren't ember brown like Hector's either, but clear, bright emerald green. A colour Isaiah knew very well. It greeted him every day in the mirror.

Surprisingly enough, Arnold "Arnie" Wolfson hadn't change that much since he was 12, except his height. Lanky, cheeky and with eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I can say from experience wolves don't like humans in their packs very much, even their own family. It's funny that the tables turn at university," Arnie said with a grin, hands on his hips in challenge.

Isaiah was too stunned for words.

"What is it, mister psychology assistant? Wolf got your tongue? Or should I say shadow?" the blond teased.

"Arnie..."

"In the flesh," the blond boy said with a smile, though his eyes narrowed at him. "I'm glad you remember me."

"What are you doing here?" Was all Isaiah managed through his astonishment. It was like seeing a ghost, except the ghost grew up.

"Looking through my options, of course. I'm graduating this year and this is a famous university. Pretty high on the 100 best universities of the world list. Several lists, really. Good thing it's not that far from my base."

"Thats....ehmm...that's wonderful."

Arnie gave him a look. "So what now? Is the tour over?"

Isaiah shook himself awake, suspecting Arnie was enjoying this very much and turned back, putting his professional persona back on. He continued the tour more distracted than ever, his eyes always going back to look for Arnie in the crowd.

The next 30 minutes were torture. Isaiah couldn't focus, kept mixing up names of the auditoriums, led the group to a dead end twice until he simply let them out in the park, pointing at the Christmas market held in front of the university. That was fortunately enough of a distraction, the crowd dissolving in excitement.

When Arnie looked like he would turn and go too, Isaiah quickly hurried after him. It was like a bolt of lightning hit him in the head, but he was not about to let that bolt go now that it was there.

"Wait. Arnie, you-" he cringed at his own clumsiness. "Do you ehhh want to get lunch together? I know a good place."

Arnie gave him a toothy smile. "I thought you would never ask."

***

What do you talk about with a brother you haven't seen in last 6 years? After he left without explanation or contact information, getting exiled from the pack? Everyone called Isaiah a traitor. Their current leader, Uncle Grayson, gave an order to leave him alone, that he was no longer of interest.

Well, Arnie wasn't just a pack member. He was his brother and not a wolf to have to listen to orders. Shadows, dominance, power plays - those were wolf concerns he didn't have to worry about.

It turned out to be surprisingly easy to track Isaiah on social media. Facebook page, twitter, liking university announcements and public lectures, sharing events and new publications at the faculty...

That he was an assistant already was clear as a day. A point of pride. Arnie didn't quite know how to meet him, but he figured if he hung around all those events mentioned on his profile, he was bound to meet him somewhere.

Arnie's head was still spinning from the speed at which everything was going.

After the initial shock, Isaiah settled into a polite and serious mask - all professional smiles, suit and all. He brought him to a pretty good sushi place, bombarding him with enthusiastic questions about his favourite subjects, grades, hobbies, how he was, what faculties he was considering, if he needed help with finding somewhere to live or would be staying in the Wolfson pack base.

They didn't touch the topics Arnie actually wanted to ask about. Why did you leave? What happened to you? Didn't you miss us? Didn't you miss me?

Isaiah wasn't secretive about his own passions either. He told him all about his love for psychology, his favourite professors, research he was doing about city life and mental health and atmospheres of third places or whatever that was about. He mentioned he was known for mediating conflicts between packs and that he had many contacts, offering Arnie to arrange meetings with any friend or colleague whose studies Arnie could be interested in.

It was like a very polite and eager relative. You meet once a ten years when you need something from their city, they give you recommendations, pretend to catch up and then whoosh. See you in ten years. Isaiah was talking and asking for information to last him for at least that long.

Neither of them mentioned the Wolfson pack. Isaiah didn't ask about how Uncle Grayson was doing as a leader. Nor did he ask about Father. He mentioned meeting Hector in an off-hand way, like sure, we see each other at that wolf meet or in that park sometime.

When Hector talked about Isaiah, he never sounded so nonchalant about it. He always looked on the verge of breaking something or having an angry fit.

Was this all it was going to be? Catch up, pretend interest and goodbye?

Isaiah paid for his meal without asking and then took him to the Christmas market himself. It was pretty late at that point, temperature heading towards zero. Arnie was getting cold, but he wouldn't ruin his hair with a beanie and he wouldn't give Isaiah the excuse to go home by saying he was cold.

Isaiah was all flushed with energy, not minding the cold in typical wolf fashion.

It was impossible to keep up with wolves. Arnie was used to it.

As a human in a pack of wolves, Arnie was used to being the one defined by what he lacked. Humans in wolf families were common disappointments, things to be barely tolerated by the rest. Their position, just like Arnie's, depended on the rank of the wolf members in his family and their willingness to defend him.

For a very long time, he was spared of that knowledge though.

He had his brothers to thank for that. Isaiah was a prodigy since childhood and Hector was always chasing after him with enthusiasm and energy. They were well-respected and high ranking in their pack, no problems with their shadows since he could remember.

And they have never treated him any differently for being a human. Maybe they had been more careful and gentle with their shadows, but he had actually not realized there was anything wrong with him until he went outside of the protective den of their family apartment.

When other wolf pups his age or older made fun of him for being a useless human for the first time, Hector beat them with his bare hands, no shadow needed. Isaiah had held him in a hug the whole afternoon after like he couldn't bear to let go.

Arnie slowly realized that as a human, he was never getting anyone's respect in the pack. He would always be the defective one.

But he also quickly realized that he would never be touched again. Living with wolves meant always being surrounded by violence, being on the edge of it, always ready and eager. But Arnie was never afraid, never touched, never threatened.

Other wolves did not think any more of him for it. If anything, they hated him for that position and opted to ignore him completely.

But he always had his brothers. Even and maybe more so after his mother died when he was 4 and he forgot her voice and her face. Even when father was busy or ignoring him just like everyone else was.

At home, he was a person. He was valued and wanted and listened to and Isaiah and Hector never treated him like anything less, and hardly different than they did each other. Maybe a little better.

Things changed when Isaiah's training with their father intensified and he became the executioner for the pack. That was the first time Arnie had called for his brother, expecting to be given priority over anything else Isaiah could be doing - and he got no answer. Isaiah would shut the door and not answer for days to come, leaving a hole in their lives from one day to the next.

Now Hector reacted to that in a way a wolf would - he chased after him. With anger, rivalry and jealousy, with aggression and resentment. But Arnie knew at the core of that volatile anger was hurt and yearning to be taken seriously, to be acknowledged.

Hector was reaching out to Isaiah, but he was doing it in a way Arnie couldn't follow. Of that dynamic and effort between his brothers, he was excluded for the first time.

The pack became an incredibly lonely place after that. There was no skill or talent or interest Arnie as a human could prove himself with. There were days he didn't talk with anybody, when he didn't get a single hello. When he didn't know if he even existed, if no one saw him.

What was left to him was watching. He watched and stared and noticed things in his silence and learned to read people. Understand them. Wolves had their mannerisms and tells just like witches and humans did.

And he realized knowing things like this was power. He started to see people's weaknesses and poked at them. Teased. He could look at someone and tell what would hurt them. At night he made a list in his head, going through words and facts he found out, gathering things he knew would sting. Having words that could break someone in his arsenal was a weapon, a power and something they couldn't fight against.

So Arnie talked and he got reactions out of wolves. Helpless kind of hurt and frustration because they couldn't retaliate with a fight, but their shadows made it easy to tell he hit the target on point.

He got even better at this when Isaiah left. Their father was gone from leadership and their brother left them without explanation.

Uncle Grayson took over the pack, and regularly invited him to chess to show his favour.

Hector was inconsolable, his shadow angry and out of control in a way it never had been before. But when Arnie sat down at the gym or in his room beside him, his shadow subsided. Even at his lowest, Hector could not bear to raise his shadow around him. Arnie felt a little less useless, then. Like he brought him a little comfort, even if Hector wouldn't talk and wasn't ready to listen.

Shortly after he settled down, Hector found a new goal. He filled the hole Isaiah left behind with rank, training and hunger for power and success. Again, chasing after Isaiah in a way Arnie couldn't follow. Arnie couldn't resent it, because he understood. Wolves needed a goal or they would lose control. 

Hector came into the city because of Isaiah. He spent years convincing their Uncle he could handle opening a new pack branch there, selecting people to take with him, and making a plan for every step and possibility to prove himself.

Arnie wasn't on the list.

But he was 18 now and graduating. It was the year of his entering adulthood that he could choose if he would stay with the pack - which would make them responsible for his finances, give him a cushion for whatever he studied or decided to do - or live by himself. Not like he was a poor orphan. He had lots of money after his mother and father as the youngest Wolfson heir on paper and by law.

The first thing he wanted to do since he turned 18 was to find Isaiah. Hector chased after him, but he resented him. He took Isaiah leaving as a personal betrayal and betrayal of the pack. And their father, who drew back from the pack as well, living alone.

Arnie couldn't care less about the pack politics and power he had no access or influence on anyway. He couldn't care less about a father that had barely spoken three words to him all his life. What he wanted was to find some kind of closure. Confront his brother and find out. What if there was a good reason why Isaiah left? What if there were circumstances out of his control and all he needed was someone to give him a chance to explain himself?

It was just as likely that Isaiah simply wasn't interested in either of them. And that Arnie was just going to humiliate himself by asking for the attention of someone who didn't want him around. Why else not contact any of them for 6 years?

He didn't expect Isaiah to be so friendly or that distant. That they could just talk and act like nothing was amiss with those years of secrets and absence between them.

But here they were.

As the hours went, Arnie was starting to feel anxious about the day coming to an end. Would it even be real, if they never saw each other again? How would Arnie now this truly happened to him in the morning?

Arnie followed after Isaiah a little forelonely to the end of the Christmas market, sneezing discreetly into his elbow.

Isaiah turned to him in thought. "Are you cold? We could...oh." He looked at his wrist watch. It was almost 11 pm. "Everything will be closing up around now. Do you...would you like to come to my place? You can spend the night too if you'd like."

Arnie's eyes went wide in surprise.

"My pack will probably be sleeping already, but you could meet them in the morning. Besides, you don't even know my address, right?"

Arnie couldn't hide how excited and breathless that offer made him. That looked like this wasn't the end!

"Give me your phone," Isaiah bossed, taking it from him and dialing up his own number. He waited until it rang before he returned the phone to Arnie. "There. Now you also have my number. You can call me and we can...we can go get lunch again. Or coffee. Or anything you want. How does that sound?"

Arnie nodded eagerly, feeling like he could cry from happiness. "Thank you! I would like that."

Isaiah smiled, a real wide smile that lit up his whole face. "Alright. Let's go then. It's like 20 minutes from my place by foot. Or would you prefer to take a tram?"

"It's fine, we can walk," Arnie said, waving the cold away. He couldn't feel cold or uncomfortable with how fast his heart was beating or how happy he was. He all but jumped around Isaiah like a goatling as they made their way to the apartment, playing a hundred-question game.

"Your favorite season of the year?" Isaiah asked.

"Summer. Because you can go swimming anytime, anywhere. Is yours still winter?"

"Yep, winter, alright. Everything is so clean and fresh and the snow...:

Arnie laughed. That didn't change much then.

Arnie's mouth was actually hurting from smiling and his teeth were chattering as they went inside.

The apartment was dark, no one was up, as Isaiah promised. Which worked great for Arnie, since he wanted Isaiah entirely for himself.

Isaiah watched him from the side as Arnie rubbed his hands together, getting feeling back into them and went to boil in some tea.

Arnie followed him, sitting down at the round table, watching, trying to soak up every moment, every detail, anything the place could tell him about his brother.

"Are you still a neat freak?" Arnie snickered as he looked around.

Isaiah smirked. "Am not. Everyone else is just untidy."

"Where is your room?"

"At the end of the hall. I share it with Matthew."

"Who is upstairs? The witch?"

"Yes. Seline." Isaiah said her name sweetly, like taking a spoon of honey.

"Ohhh," Arnie's eyes sparkled. "Is she your girlfriend?"

Isaiah took a sharp breath, looking at him. "How did you know?"

"I'm good at reading people," Arnie bragged with a smile, propping his chin on his entwined hands. His head felt kind of heavy and his left ear burned as it warmed up.

"Which tea do you want? I got earl gray, mint, fruit, herbal-"

"Whatever you are having. And exactly like it," Arnie said.

Isaiah gave him a surprised glace and a lifted an eyebrow but complied, smiling slightly to himself.

He brought two cups with mint tea with a bit of milk inside to the table. "I will get you blankets for the sofa. It can be extended and is quite comfortable, if you don't mind it?"

Arnie pouted. "Are we going to sleep already?"

Isaiah chuckled. "You don't want to yet? What would you like to do?"

"I could spend the night talking with you," Arnie said, flushing a little at how honest that was.

Isaiah shook his head as if he couldn't believe it, brushing Arnie's arm as he went by him.

He brought the blankets and Arnie got both of their mugs and they sat on the sofa together, letting a movie play in the background. Arnie had a lot more questions about Isaiah's current favourite movies, TV stations, if studying psychology made him like psychological thrillers more...if he could bridge over the lost 6 years in one night, he would do it.

Arnie didn't notice at what point he dozed off. His eyes were heavy though and he only woke up enough to feel Isaiah taking the mug from his hands and sliding him down on a pillow.

***

Arnie woke up to piercing pain in his ear. He shot up, blinking rapidly.

It hurt in his sleep too, tender to the touch, but now it actually disturbed him enough he didn't think he could sleep.

He wasn't even lying on it, but it still hurt. It felt all stuffed up too, as if he had liquid stuck in it. Oww.

Getting up from the sofa was a slow process, since he needed a little time to orient himself in the dark, unfamiliar place. Small chance he could sleep with the way his ear hurt though.

He went to the kitchen, opening the cupboards half-heartedly to look for medication, but he couldn't find anything useful aside from mugs and plates. Maybe he should wake Isaiah up for a painkiller.

Returning to the living room, he stumbled against a chair and almost fell. The rattle would have woken a man, not just a wolf.

"Arnie? What's going on?" Isaiah's sleepy voice came from the living room. He must have fallen asleep beside him.

"Hey, Zaya? I know this is a bit stupid and I'm sorry to bother you...." He felt dizzy standing there. What was wrong with him? As if his sense of balance was shot. Arnie gripped the edge of the round table, swaying slightly.

Isaiah got up from the sofa immediately, all signs of sleep leaving his face in the few steps he took to get to Arnie. "What's wrong?"

"Do you have any painkillers here? M-my ear really hurts." Arnie tried to smile, hand hovering over the offending organ. It hurt the whole time, as if someone lit it on fire.

Isaiah's eyebrows furrowed. "Your ear? Did you get a cold?" His hand went to Arnie's forehead as if it was the normal thing to do. Arnie froze a little under the touch, but Isaiah's hand was nice and warm and he leaned into it a little, closing his eyes. He still felt weirdly dizzy and untethered, his stomach flipping inside him.

"No, don't think so. It's nothing, Zaya. Promise."

"Uh-uhm." Isaiah didn't look convinced. "You are burning up. Go back under the blankets, I'll find you something."

Arnie nodded gratefully, pushing himself away from the table only to stumble again and lose his balance. The floor came up suddenly and he prepared himself for the impact, when strong hands caught him by the waist. "What's going on with you? It's like you are drunk."

"I don't know..." Arnie blinked dizzily as Isaiah helped him straighten up, then wrapped a hand around his back and led him back to the sofa.

Everything was twirling. Arnie sat down heavily, bowing his head between his knees, taking deep breaths. Trying to calm down. This was nothing serious. He wasn't a child. Despite that, the pain in his ear felt like it was vibrating and he felt heavy and hot.

His throat closed up. He was going to ruin their happy reunion with this. Isaiah would send him home and they would never see each other again.

Isaiah came back shortly, arms stuffed with things he spread out on the table. "Hey. Arnie, lift your arm for me. I'm going to take your temperature. For now, take the ibuprofen. Should help with the pain."

Arnie didn't dare to nod with how out of focus and tilted everything was, accepting the thermometer under his arm and taking the pills with a glass of water.

His stomach wasn't very happy about that gulp, though. It flipped inside him again and he groaned, wrapping his arms around his middle.

"Arnie? Kiddo, hey..."

"Think," he gulped loudly as the nausea spiked and the water sloshed against the back of his throat, "m gonna be sick."

Arnie didn't even have time to think about how entirely embarrassing and disgusting that was and how he was going to chase Isaiah away now for sure.

Isaiah jumped to his feet and Arnie felt the swish of air as he hurried away. He trembled, his mouth flooding with saliva.

His stomach gave a twist and he felt the water shooting up his throat, but suddenly there was a trashcan in his lap. Just in time for him to gag harshly over it as the gulp of water and the painkiller came rushing up, grazing against his throat.

Arnie did not expect the gag to make the pain in his ear explode. Stupid tubes, being all connected. He whimpered as the pressure escalated and he gagged again. Another splash of water and pieces of undigested chestnuts from the market came along with it, hitting the bottom of the trash bag.

He felt tears spring up his eyes as he convulsed over it, fighting off the next gag. Anything to stop the pain in his ear from burning like that. There was drool hanging from his lips and chin and he sobbed.

Isaiah's hand was on his back that instant. He held the trashcan under his chin, murmuring something Arnie didn't understand through the buzzing in his own ears, but it was the gentlest, most soothing tone he ever heard from him. It reminded him of his childhood, how he would curl up on top of Isaiah whenever he was sick and his brother would hold him diligently, wrapping him in his warmth and reassurances.

Arnie pressed his palm against his mouth, trying to stop the next wave. The nausea was still there, made worse by the pain and now his head was pounding as well.

"Shhhh. You are okay. You are okay. Take deep breaths now."

"Hurtssss," Arnie sobbed, his other hand going to his ear as he bowed his head. The trashcan disappeared and Isaiah sat down next to him, rubbing gentle circles against his back.

"Ssshhh. I know. It will be okay. Just calm down. You probably got an ear infection. That's nothing. I'll get you some warm compress for it and it will go away in no time."

Isaiah made a move to stand. Arnie felt a wave of panic and dread rush through him, looking up and blinking rapidly against the bluriness. "No, no, no. Don't go."

"Arnie, I'll be right b-"

"Don't leave me again. Please."

"Just to get the warm compress, kiddo. It will be a second, I promise."

Isaiah left.

Arnie wanted to follow him, but his legs wouldn't hold him. He was shaking from exhaustion, his ear was hurting, and he had to fight against nausea flooding him instantly with the panic. He curled up on the sofa, hands wrapped around his stomach as he sobbed against the leather fabric.

After what felt like million years, something warm pressed against his left ear. Arnie winced, nose all clogged up from snot as he cried, each watery breath making the fire in his ear worse.

Isaiah stood above him for a bit, before he sat down, hands around Arnie. He dragged him over to his lap, letting Arnie curl up on his knees and sob against his chest. He held the warm cloth against Arnie's ear, rubbing his arm in a soothing manner.

Arnie fisted his fingers in Isaiah's shirt. He would not let him go this time around.

***

The rest of the night and early morning went like that. Isaiah held Arnie in his lap, holding the compress to his ear and talking about everything and nothing he could think of. Arnie seemed to react well to his voice.

Sometimes Arnie would sleep fitfully, only to wiggle and trash as he wanted to turn and Isaiah wouldn't let him, tightening his hold so Arnie wouldn't turn on his left ear. Sometimes it would wake him up and make him cry again.

Sometimes he would shudder and swallow heavily, which Isaiah learned by the third time that Arnie drooled all over his front that that was his cue for vomiting.

He held the kid as he vomited into the trashcan in his arms and then sagged back again. The fever was radiating off him and the little whimpers and tears that came with his ear reacting to puking were breaking Isaiah's heart. As if it wasn't broken enough.

Isaiah thought today was a gift. A unique, rare little gift. He didn't dare to contact his brothers on his own. The play pretend that he was the traitor, was important for the pack and he needed his brothers to believe it, so everyone else could believe it. At the time. Now, after years, he resented that duty.

He was also way too scared they hated him by right. Just like Hector did, blaming Isaiah for abandoning them, for putting the pack's future at risk, for choosing a different life instead of theirs...not even if Isaiah explained that every day back at the Wolfson pack was torture for him, that his heart pains were caused by it, that he hated every single second...would they want to listen?

And then Arnie came. All open and eager and giving him a chance instead of bombarding him with questions and accusations.

He needed that. Isaiah needed someone to believe in the good of him for once. It broke him a little every time Hector snarled at him, that neither of his brothers probably believed he didn't leave them willingly, that he missed them like you miss a part of yourself, how he flinched and hurt every time a wolf with a temper or a kid with blond hair passed him by...

Isaiah really let himself hope maybe this wasn't over. That's why he offered Arnie all the contact information. If the boy wanted to stay in touch, maybe Isaiah wouldn't break any promise in seeing him from time to time, even if he never told him the truth. It was too painful and messy and complicated. But if Arnie could accept him as he was, maybe they could rebuild something from there.

Arnie didn't ask why Isaiah left. Not once. Isaiah didn't know what to make of it. Did it mean he was forgiven? Or that Arnie knew something, guessed something and so he wouldn't make Isaiah talk about it?

Did it mean Arnie didn't care anymore and just wanted to check how he was doing and cut contact again? It wasn't like either Arnie or Hector looked or reached out to him, when he was away. He figured they were too hurt and disgusted with him to do so...

But Arnie got downright inconsolable, whenever Isaiah tried to get up. To change his vomit-covered shirt, to get tissues, to get water...Arnie would cry and weil and sob himself into panic Isaiah was leaving again. No matter how Isaiah explained, no matter how quickly he got back.

Matthew found him in the morning as he prepared for his regular run.

"What the fuck happened here?"

Isaiah had to admit it was a mess. There were tissues all over the place, the towels he kept soaking in warm water and held against Arnie's ear and sometimes had to sacrifice when Arnie got sick while still pressed against Isaiah's chest, the thermometer, the packages of pills Arnie couldn't hold down,...

"Hey, Matt. You met my little brother?"

Matthew's eyebrows furrowed. "I met the mean one. Which one is this?"

The kid lay completely limp against him, out of his sweaty shirt, breathing raggedly. But Isaiah thought his fever wasn't so high anymore and he actually kept a few sips of water down for the last hour. He would probably take him to a doctor today anyway, to get that ear checked out.

Isaiah caressed the center of Arnie's creased forehead. "I think this one wants to give me a chance."

---

@bellysoupset

[silentanomaly]

It is so sad seeing a fresh face starting out on bad drugs, and watching them walk towards a sketchy crowd. Just no, don't go towards those people, they don't care about you. They'll make you a shell of your former self. You'll go feral with those freaks. Happens all the time around here.

Tonight I'd seen someone as green as grass involved in those hard drug circles. Fresh faced. Not decrepified from drug use. Not dead or soulless looking. Still got colour. Face full. Actually pretty, and a nice style too! (Very uncommon in those circles, which is why I can clock her as green) But, I didn't know the lady. Only seen her letting some loser into the apartment building I was leaving (common occurrence, junkies showing up to be let into the building to go pick up or do drugs on the 7th floor, or even a long list of other crimes that have occurred in that building), after her and I stepped off the elevator. I'd never seen her before. But, she doesn't belong with them. I don't want to watch her slowly become like them. She's young and still has a chance.

I'd have invited her to take a walk with me to the corner store to get something to drink (she was "sick," slumping in the corner of the elevator, as she told me when I asked if she was okay), had there not been a sketchy guy waiting for her to let him in. Those guys are often volatile and not to be trusted at all. They'd often be yelling at people from outside the building to let them in, actually assaulting people at times, pushing past them when they're trying to enter the building where their home is. Tenants have been hospitalized. If he saw her, and she didn't let him in...there would be a scene, and she would be in danger from that guy, and the people on 7th floor. Unfortunately those losers can peer in from the foyer to see who comes off the elevators.

Anyway, this isn't just a bold assumption about that guy. I know what these guys look like, and what they are like. They all look and act the same. No respect for others when it comes to getting what they want (they will cross boundaries, does not matter what the boundaries are), and their whole get-up is often whack. Some juvenile man-child style of dress where they try to look tough via their outfit, meanwhile their bodies and faces are all emaciated. Always got a bike, a backpack, and VERY shifty dead eyes. They size you up as a potential mark if you go near them. I see them do it. They do it to EVERYONE. Even each other (watched some skids stare each other down as they passed each other, extra slowly and cautiously, eyes not leaving each other's faces, not speaking, just the other day, broad daylight, other people in the area) because obviously there's drama, animosity, and distrust in the drug circles as they've all been doing each other dirty. I hate men. But, men with drugs are fucking EVIL. There are some around here that I see and KNOW they'd been doing some horrible, monstrous things and those are the ones I'd just euthanize on sight, were that something I could do without repercussions.

I hope that lady gets out while she still has a chance. But, the fact she's being sent down from the 7th floor to let some druggo in to join their shindig is a bad sign. I told her to "take care," before leaving the elevator, and she took five steps before turning around to say "thank you," (almost sounded relieved? Like someone hadn't been nice to her in a while) before continuing on to let that guy in. He seemed to have flinched at her doing that. Anyway, the fact she said that - that's a sign she's still with us, and I have faith in her. People who are in deep..they don't give a fuck if you care for their well-being or if you're polite or nice to them. They'll completely blow you off, even tell you to fuck off, lmao.

I'm speaking to her if I ever see her again. I don't know what I'm going to say though. Just demonstrate some form of good will, I guess, and hope that helps. Genuinely would have given her something to drink on the elevator, if I had something, as I'm often leaving my bestie's with something. Not tonight though, unfortunately. Even asked her if she was going to the corner store to get something to drink, after she told me she was sick. "No, no.." *trails off seemingly biting her tongue* Figured she answered that way because she knew something was wrong and wouldn't say it for fear of consequences. I don't even know her. But, I'll be dwelling on this all night.

Anyway..girl, run!

[ducknotinarow]

Bailey Richard - [☃️] our muses build a snowman together

| SEND AN EMOJI FOR A STARTER ! ↳ winter season & holiday based [part 2]

Richard was pretty happy with himself, even twirling the pen in his hand between his fingers. It always felt so good to get a task completed. Narrow the length of his list even if some people liked to test out the bed in their suite first. Was Richard hit with even the slightest touch of embarrassment on having to literally force Bailey out of the room by throwing them over his shoulder to just to get them out of the room? Maybe if it was the first time he ever had to do that he might. But sadly it wasn't.

Didn't matter still they got everything handled and settled Buddy was set up for anything they found interesting listed for the kid's to do even some family stuff was involved, and they had rentals settled even it truly was such a relief. Richard could feel the mental to do list in his mind getting everything checked off one by one and no offense Bailey sometimes it rivaled the feeling of getting off. Richard felt content as he and his little family were still going about the resort checking it out now, more the outside if anything. It was such a nice sight after all. Even with the bitter cold. Least Buddy seemed pretty content at the moment.

Richard looked over to Bailey a moment, as he poked their forehead with the very pen he got to use to sign all the different papers and forms required to get things in order. "I told you I would do it don't act like you don't enjoy how easily I can throw you over my shoulder, I know you love that." Richard states before he pocketed the pen away finally. "Besides it was starting to eat away at me, in the back of my mind I just knew I had things to do and not getting them done wasn't helping me in the slightest bit at all. Even when Buddy and I explored the suite it was nagging away at me." Richard openly complained about.

Richard sure Bailey isn't even phased much by that, he knows how much of a busy body Richard could be. "Thought that reminds me we should find out about when the restaurants here open in general and when they sever breakfast and such, were going to need to make sure the food offered won't be any issue as well- Stop giving me that look Chickadee, I can feel you're eyes I swear!" Richard was quick to changed the subject as he looked back towards his husband. Taking in that annoying, cute yes, but annoying little smug smirk on their beak right now. They went through this anytime the family went out for a vacation. Richard may leave work at home. (okay hardly he always found a way to work and Bailey was excused to scold for once.) But he always found a way to still in a sense work.

Hurry up and relax was always his way on their vacations. Richard didn't care what anyone said. Vacations felt like so much more work to him. Did remind him of his and Buddy's conversation eailer though as he looked back to Bailey and offered a shrug of his shoulders. "You know I don't know how to relax, I hate not having something to do. Free time in truth? It stresses me out more than any issue at work could." Besides, Richard's been trying to be more transparent with his husband which is why je was telling them right now. " I know I know vacations are meant to not had work involved I just feel.." He pauses trying to think of a good word but only one kept repeating in his skull. The voice not belonging to himself. Which explains the faint need to flinch when he heard it echo in his thoughts.

"Like a faliure?" He states still. Simply offering a shrug if his shoulders after not to concerned himself how that sounded. It was clear where that came from. "I just like having something to do, maybe I need something to do?" The thought hadn't occurred to him before but no that made a lot of sense at the same time.

Well he didn't know how Bailey would take Richard own words just now. Well short of defending Richard that is. He did at least offer something Richard could do. Attetion shifted over to Buddy, who they walking out to join in some snowman building event the ski lodge was holding at the time. Richard quirked his beak a little having a cule to the roosters idea. "I'm not building a snowman, that's childish." Said the same bird guilty of building their son a whole bug Cummings in the backyard. When it was pointed out he wanted something to do he regert voicing any of that now.

"Fine fine, let's go building a snowman like a cheap cheesy starducks holiday commerical." He wasn't even trying to hide his eye rool as he walked over with Bailey to join with thiwr son at the spot he was given to work on his snowman. Richard took a second to look at what they had to work with. Snow of course, but they did give Buddy clothing for the snowman, rocks and buttons for eyes sticks of course and even some snowmarkers. "Fine but if I'm doing this, we need to set this up right." And there was the busy body side if the egeals shining through once again. "We need a based the snow man first so we don't make them top heavey. So Bailey start on that." The lack of any affectionate name shouldn't be lost on the roster nor throwing them in to help as well. "Your tje expect on being childish after all so go ahead enlighten me on the fact." Smirking playfully to his husband. In other words I gotta do this you gotta do this too.

Beaide could either of them really turn down a chance todo something fun with thier son?

[murder-popsicle]

Jane hadn't bothered with the front door, but instead had simply scaled the building until she reached Evans' bedroom window, where she'd entered with the aid of one of her handy locksmith's tools. Evans himself wasn't in the bedroom, of course. He never was at this time on a Thursday night, because there was some medical drama -- a trashy one, as far as Jane had been able to work out with her limited experience of modern television -- that aired at 9pm and that he watched religiously.

A hard knot of anger had been burning inside Jane ever since she'd begun surveilling him. How could he come home every day, doing what he did, and act like a normal human being? How dare he? It was as though he didn't even recognize what he was, as though he thought the things he'd done were right. But Jane knew better. She saw him for what he was, and knew he was a monster.

Silently, she crept from the bedroom to living area. It was second nature, even though any noise she made would have been masked by the TV. But Jane had been the Winter Soldier for a long, long time and, as many people in the world of covert operations would readily admit, the Winter Soldier was a ghost: silent, neat, efficient, deadly, and possibly not even there at all. Whether Jane still counted as the Winter Soldier was anyone's guess -- even in her own head, the jury was still out on that one -- but the Winter Soldier's skills, at least, remained. And since she had the skills, she would use them. Not for HYDRA, not anymore, but for herself.

Breaking in had been almost laughably easy, especially for a professional like Jane. Evans' apartment had no more security than that of any other wealthy New Yorker. Maybe he thought his professional reputation – or his little friends – would deter anyone with nefarious intentions from attempting to hurt him. But if he did, he was wrong. He found that out when he was yanked bodily from his seat on the sofa, one gloved hand clamped firmly over his mouth, and then dragged to the bathroom and hurled into the tub with great force. Jane saw no point in getting blood on the carpet.

When he finally had the chance to look up and saw the Winter Soldier standing over him with a knife, he blanched. “You!” he said, his voice cracking with fear. “They told me you were dead! They said you'd gone down in the river with the helicarriers. What are you doing here?”

What was she doing here? Was he really that stupid? The man was an engineer, for God’s sake. Surely he had two brain cells to rub together. What did he think she was doing here?

But before Jane could answer, he’d spoken again, because a thought had occurred to him. The Winter Soldier had been missing, presumed dead, for nearly two months. Surely she’d become confused, lost, unstable. The woman didn’t even know her own name, after all. She didn’t really want to hurt him. He just had to talk her down.

“Stand down, soldier,” he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. His voice shook a little, but he seemed to be aiming for the kind of tone one might use with a spooked animal. “You don't need to hurt me. I can help you. We’re on the same side.”

Jane saw red. So did Evans, because before he could react, she’d grabbed his hand and hacked off one of his fingers. “Don’t think for even a minute that I’ll obey you,” she hissed, as he stared in horror at the blood gushing from his hand. “I am not on your side anymore.”

Harry didn't know a damned thing about HYDRA. At least, he didn't know any more than the general public--less, probably, given that he'd spent the last six months behind bars with limited access to the news. Before he'd gone away (taking the brunt of the sentence for a badly planned heist his father had orchestrated), all Harry had known about organized crime came from his father. Some dads took their kids to the office on Bring Your Kid to Work Day. Harry's brought him to a seedy little apartment in Brooklyn to collect the drug money he was owed. It wasn't until a few years later that Harry truly understood how deep the "job" went. There was a method to the madness, an organization to the drug runs and petty thefts, the con jobs and scheming. If it had been up to his father, it would have been a family affair: father and sons, all three of them, smoking a cigar and counting their dollar bills. It had been Harry who put his foot down, who shielded his siblings, who took every job his father offered so his brothers wouldn't have to.

So when he found out what his father had done--that, with Harry out of the picture, he'd gotten into shit even he couldn't handle and taken his sons with him--Harry had felt something brand new: the desire to kill. It sufficed to say his relationship with his father had always been complicated, but this was a new sort of rage, a simmering hatred unlike anything he'd ever known. His father--selfish, idiotic, and reckless--had thrown his hat in with HYDRA, and Harry's brothers had paid the price. Both dead before their twenty-first birthdays. Harry was still in jail when he got the news, when his tearful, red-faced father told him what happened through a telephone and a glass wall. His father swore he'd get revenge, that those who had taken their family apart would pay for what they'd done.

But Harry was out now, and his brothers' killers were still alive. So was his father. But he'd deal with that later. He'd made useful contacts in prison, played the game long enough to get what he needed: two names for two murderers. First on the list was Nicholas Evans. The man who'd put a gun to the temple of Harry's baby brother and pulled the trigger.

Harry moved silently through the night's crowd, keeping his head down, his pace quick. Finally, he found the apartment he'd been searching for and, by pretending to be a Door Dash deliver driver, managed to slip past the lobby door and make his way to the stairs. He touched the small lump of his left front pocket. Reassured that his knife was still there, he began the trek up.

[fangirlings-things]

To get the job done

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Word count: 5.1K

Summary: going undercover as a couple with your boss in order to serve as bait for an unsub, definitely should have been more... professional

Warnings: smut, sexual innuendos, chocking, language, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex

A/N: I wrote this in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep and couldn't shake this idea out of my head lol. this is my first hotch smut ever written so I hope this is good. hope you guys enjoy this, lots of love!!!

TAG LIST: @imaginesofyourfandom ; @locke-writes ; @regalbanshee || GIF IS NOT MINE

“It’s not working”

Between the loud music resonating through the nightclub and the proximity of civilians who shouldn’t hear your words, you had come closer to Hotch to speak, so that he could fully understand what you were saying. As you did, mouth close to his ear, you were able to smell the scent of perfume coming from him. That was a good smell.

You both had done your best to look incredibly good on that night, for the operation the BAU had developed alongside the local police department on the last two days. As the unsub had been targeting couples on that nightclub specifically and there were no bodies to sustain the accusation even though he had been the last one seen with all those people, the best approach was to use a bait and catch him in the act.

At first you believed you were going in undercover with Morgan, what you guys had already done before when the situation called for it. But according to the profile and the fact that all the previous disappeared male victims were white, the team agreed that it would be better to send Hotch, and that was how you ended up playing couple with your boss, something you were sure shouldn’t be making you as nervous as it was.

“We've only been here for half an hour, (Y/N)” Hotch replied, eyes wondering around a bit before he focused on you and smiled tenderly, placing a hand on your cheek. You had been exchanging soft touches like that, to blind in between the other couples present. “Maybe he isn’t here yet”

You sighted heavily, but nodded in agreement, because there was a good chance he was right. For another hour, you and Hotch kept on to your disguise. You smiled at each other, even danced a bit, which really made you laugh because you had never pictured your boss doing such thing, and he had managed to laugh a bit as well. At some point, you felt his hands circling your waist and pulling you close towards his own body. You couldn’t deny the shiver that ran down your spine in that moment.

Time passed and passed, and except for a woman that got close to flirt with Hotch that he politely dismissed by holding your hand, nothing happened. The unsub didn’t approach you, like he had done to the other missing couples. Only then, a thought occurred to you and you remembered something important about the abductions. Or more exactly, previously to those.

“Hotch, we forgot something” you said, slowly pulling him by the arm to one of the corners of the club, like you where just getting away from the crowd to make out a bit.

“What?” he asked, frowning while trying to keep a relaxed expression on his features. Under the shinning lights of the nightclub, his short hair and white shirt with the two first buttons open and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looked extremely handsome. Not that you hadn’t noticed it already on a daily basis, but then, he was your boss. On this night… he was playing your boyfriend. You had some kind of permission to allow yourself to think such thing.

“The unsub's method. What made him choose those couples instead of all the others” you said, pressing your back against the wall and bringing him close to you with a smile, feeling other people’s eyes on you both. His hands found your waist and stayed there, unmoving. “He likes to play the gentleman before actually abducting the couples” you told Hotch, hands running up his uncovered by the rolled sleeves arms. “Witnesses said they saw the male and the female getting into some kind of discussion, that the men were sometimes violent with their girlfriends, so the unsub would come and defend her” you saw that he had understood what you meant even before you said the words. “You have to be violent with me”

“So he gets to play the good guy with the women before abducting them and the boyfriends, to later kill them both” he completed your line of thought and you nodded, agreeing. “(Y/N)…” Hotch then began, hesitant. You saw the way he squeezed his lips on a thin line and sighted heavily, looking around again before getting his gaze fixed on you. “are you sure this is what we have to do?”

“I am” you guaranteed, eyes fixed on his as seriousness filled your tone. Hotch stared at you for a long moment as if he was thinking about it, but then he pulled back, taking his hands away from you and stepping back like he suddenly wanted distance. Fearing it would blow your cover, you looked at him even more seriously now. “Hotch? Come on! You have to…”

Before you could finish your sentence, expressing your indignation for his hesitation to get the job done, he closed the gap between you both once again, body now fully pressed against yours. His breath was on your face, heavy and hot. One of his hands, had gone to your throat. He was squeezing your neck, fingertips digging into your skin just enough to put some pressure on it.

“Why can’t you ever stop talking” his voice came out rough, irritated. With widened eyes because of the fact that he was suddenly all upon you, you realized that Hotch was playing along. He was following the plan. And really, you wanted to think about the unsub, but it proved to be really hard when you had Hotch’s hand around your throat and his breath on your face. The scent of his perfume, so close… you felt intoxicated by him in the best way possible.

“Hotch…” you began, glad that he had to be the one leading the actions and not you. Honestly, professionalism was the last thing on your mind in that moment and even though you knew it was wrong, you couldn’t help it.

“Shut up” he replied in the same instant, which made you go instantly quiet, as his hand increased the pressure on your neck just a bit. The fake anger was there in his voice but in his eyes, there was no such thing. They were cautious, inspecting your features to see if you were comfortable with this. You stared back at him silently and he understood, that you were good to keep up the little scene, which set him into action once again. “Just shut the fuck up for a moment” his hand moved further up your throat, brushing against your skin smoothly as it went. He only stopped when he was finally able to touch your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes on your lips as he did so. “Just shut up”

And right and there, you did something you couldn’t have predicted.

You moaned.

A low, breathy moan that you silently wished for him to not have heard, but of course he had, being pressed up against you like that. You closed your eyes for a long moment, embarrassed and desperately wanted to disappear. You had just moaned because of the hand of your boss around your throat. That wasn’t something you felt quite pride of. Still, you forced yourself to open your eyes and stare at Hotch. His eyes… they were unreadable. Even though you were a profiler, you had no idea what was on his mind. None.

Before you could think of anything to say, suddenly a man approached you and Hotch, getting too close. He was extremely tall, had brown eyes and blond hair. There was a calm expression on his features, the kind of expression you had often seen in the faces of unsubs when they talked about their crimes. “Hey, you’re hurting the lady, man!”

As both of your attentions were on him now, that being the unsub the police had already locked up but then let go because of the lack of evidences, Hotch released his hand from your throat, but then he grabbed your forearm with it, keeping you in place. When he spoke, he used the best angered voice he had. “I’m having a private conversation with my girlfriend. Why don’t you leave?”

The unsub focused his gaze on you, ignoring Hotch like he hadn't even spoken. “Is he hurting you?”

“Yeah, (Y/N), am I hurting you?” Hotch said turning to you too, provoking the unsub by forcing you to share the full attention he clearly wanted.

“No” you replied, eyes going from Hotch to the unsub. Looking into the latter's eyes, you forced yourself to give out a little smile. “I’m fine, but thank you” and as to reassure him, you gently placed your hand on his arm.

You heard Hotch take a deep breath by your side, annoyed by you touching the other man, and then he gripped really tightly at your arm. “We are leaving” and then without warning, he began to drag you towards the exit. You didn’t have to look back to know that the unsub was following you both.

“The others are outside, right?” you whispered to Hotch, as he continued to drag you along between the great amount of people.

“Yes, Morgan has a S.W.A.T team on the roof top of the next building” he said back, while pushing open the door of the nightclub. Instantly, the cold air of the night outside the place made you shiver, because of the great amount of exposed skin from your dress. Without saying anything else, he continued to drag you along. Seconds later, you heard the door being opened and closed again.

“Hey!” a voice that clearly belonged to the unsub said and you and Hotch stopped, turning around to look at him. He had pulled out a gun, and had it pointed directly to your face. “Come here you both, or I’ll shoot her right in her pretty face”

“Alright man, take it easy!” Hotch let go of you, raised his hands in the air and motioned for you to walk alongside him. You placed the most scared look you could on your face as you walked towards the unsub.

When you and Hotch had already closed half of the distance between you both and the unsub, armed agents appeared from every corner of the empty, barely illuminated parking lot, pointing their guns to the unsub.

“Richard Jones, put the gun down right now!” Morgan’s firm voice echoed through the parking lot as he screamed, standing just a few feet away from the man.

The unsub looked from the many agents to you both and seeing the controlled expressions on your faces, he clenched his jaw, filled with anger. “You two are cops, aren’t you?” hearing the instability in his voice, Hotch took a step forward to stand in front of you, shielding you with his own body. “Son of a…” the unsub took a enraged step forward and then the sound of a shot filled the night. In the same instant, the unsub fell to the ground, dropping the gun and using the now free hand to press on his shoulder, where the bullet had hit him.

Morgan quickly ran towards the fallen unsub and kicked the gun away from his reach. “You two good?” he asked without turning around, still pointing his gun to the now unharmed unsub.

“Yeah, we’re fine” you said, after touching Hotch’s shoulder for a moment. He just nodded, fine. Good.

The ambulance came after ten minutes to take the unsub to the closest hospital. Morgan talked to the local officers to decide which one would accompany Jones there and Reid and Prentiss had just congratulated you for the good job. Rossi, talked to Hotch a few feet away from where you were. When Spencer and Emily walked away to verify some last things with the paramedics, Hotch approached you.

“Good job” he said, hands on the pockets of his pants. The professionalism was back, now that the operation was done. The boss was back like he had never left.

“Thanks. You too” you gave him a smile, eyes on the paramedics that were just putting Jones inside the ambulance. “That’s how he did it. He threatened the women to make the men comply to whatever he said”

“He envied the men, they were always his real target. He overpowered the men and probably made them watch whatever he did to the girlfriends” Hotch said, also looking at the unsub.

“Do you think we will find the bodies?” you asked, frustrated. Now, Jones could be charged for the crimes but the families of the victims had nothing to hold on to. No bodies to bury. The thought was awful.

“I don’t think so” Hotch replied, as clear and honest as ever. The sound of the ambulance's doors being closed made itself heard and then Hotch sighted and put himself in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that beautifully defined the muscles of his arms. “(Y/N), about what happened in there…” for a second you thought he was going to mention your moan and all air left your lungs. But thankfully, he didn’t. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly. Gripping you like that”

“Oh, you didn’t” you rushed yourself into saying, trying to calm down your still heavy beating heart. You gave him another smile and a shrug. “We just did what we had to do to get the job done, right?”

“(Y/N)!” Reid called you, standing close to one of the SUV's, motioning for you to come close.

You briefly touched Hotch’s arm. “Don’t worry, Hotch” and giving him one last friendly smile you walked away towards Reid, taking a deep breath as you did so. Being under Hotch’s stare had never been so intense, exciting and anxious all the same.

With every step you took, you wondered if you would ever be able to look at Hotch like you did before that night. Merely as your boss and a friend.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

It turned out, things weren’t the same anymore.

It had been a month since that case were you and Hotch had gone undercover together as a couple. A month. It always felt like it had happened on the previous day to the one you were living. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake that night away from your mind.

Everytime Hotch would sit close to you at the jet and you would smell his perfume, you would inevitably close your eyes and remember the feeling of having his hands on your waist. When he would hand you a file and your hands would end up casually brushing against one another, you would remember having that same hand closed around your throat and that thought alone would make you have to hold back a whimper.

Truth was you wouldn’t be able to deny your attraction to your boss to anyone that asked about it. Thankfully though, you hadn’t wore wires on that night and no other members of the team had gone into the club. So, those moments had belonged only to you both. Your corrupted mind, was more than grateful for it.

“(Y/N), my love?” Garcia’s voice brought you back to reality, making you snap out of your thoughts and focus your eyes on hers. She was staring at you with a smile and curious eyes. “Now, you were daydreaming about some lucky sugar out there”

Cleaning your throat, you did your best to keep on a straight face. It was unbelievable how even though you daily spent your time with profilers, she could be more perceptive than all of them went it came to emotions and personal innuendos. “I’m sorry Penelope, I drifted away. Was is it?”

She stared at you with interested eyes for a few more moments before looking down at the table you were both sitting at for hours now, at the lobby of the hotel you had all booked in the city. “Well, I just finished doing all the background check I could get on the previous victims, like you guys asked me to” she handed you a folder, filled with information that certainly would be significant for the current investigation the team was working on. You were glad she had travelled with you all for this case.

“Penelope, you’re amazing” you grabbed the folder and took a few glares to the pages inside of it, before closing it again and looking back at her. “We should call it for the day and get some rest like the others”

“I’ll do that, I just have to check one last thing. Will you please spare me the trouble and take this to Hotch on your way to have some amazingly good sleep?” she pouted, knowing you wouldn’t be able to resist such a request.

“Sure” you said, thinking about the fact that you had just agreed on going to Hotch’s room to deliver him the folder in the middle of the night. You took a deep breath before standing up. “Goodnight, Penelope”

“Rest well, my lovely friend” she winked at you and you smiled back at her before making your way to the elevator. You were all staying on the same floor, so you pressed the bottom to the seventh floor and waited with a fast beating her inside the elevator, that seemed to get to the said floor too soon. Too fast.

Room 220. You stared at it's door for what seemed to be hours. You thought about Hotch inside. The fact that you were about to come in. Him, alone. Alone with you. Like you two had been on that nightclub.

Taking a deep breath, you concentrated on stopping those wondering thoughts and knocked on the door. The answer came seconds later, an 'enter' you would often hear at the office. Of course he had been waiting awake for the files. That was Hotch, after all.

Taking another deep breath you opened the door and your gaze immediately met Hotch, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest close to the table placed at the corner of the room. Pictures and other files filled it and he looked through it like always, searching for leads and trying to begin the building of the unsub's profile. He had removed his black suit and red tie, standing there with just a white shirt covering his upper body. Just like on the nightclub.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother, but Garcia asked me to bring you these files” you raised the folder in the air, a small polite smile on your lips as you did so.

“Thank you” he crossed the distance of the room towards you and stopped just two steps away. You handed him the folder, and he looked inside it for long moments before looking back to you so your eyes would meet. “Do you want to help me go over this knew information?”

You swallowed dry at the suggestion you hadn’t been expecting. Who needed to sleep when you could just spend time with the man you daydreamed about, right? This thought, got the next words out of your mouth. “Yeah, sure”

“Okay, close the door” Hotch said with that professional tone of his, nodding in the door's direction before turning around and going back to stand close to the table. You did close the door and then went to stand by him, looking at all the files splayed out in quite a mess. “I still haven’t been able to make any progress with the profile”

“Well, we’ve only been here for two days” you said, getting some of the crime scene pictures in your hands and looking attentively at them, searching for anything that might have passed your attentions before. “we don’t have much but we’ll get the job done, like we always do”

Then, Hotch chuckled. The sound was so unexpected and it happened to rarely that you instantly stopped looking at the photos, placed them back at the table and then turned with a frown to look at your boss, not being able to stop yourself from smiling a bit. “What?”

“Nothing, is just that…” he shrugged, arms still crossed over his chest and eyes not staring into yours. “we have been making a great team lately” and then he looked at you. And he must have recognized the conflicted expression on your features, because the intensity of his eyes suddenly became too much to bare. And still, you found yourself unable to look away.

“Yeah, we have” you found it within yourself to answer those simple three words and then it happened exactly like in the nightclub. Before you could even realize what was happening, Hotch got closer and closer until his body was almost touching yours. Painfully almost.

“Can I?” he asked, staring into your eyes with beautiful fixation. His breathing was heavy and it made you realize that you weren’t the only one nervous in that room. You just nodded, staring back at him with your heart beating so hard and fast inside your chest it seemed like it would explode. Slowly Hotch raised his eyes and placed them on your cheeks, fingertips caressing the skin beneath them gently. And then, even more slowly, he closed the gap between you both and touched your lips with his.

It wasn’t even a proper kiss. Just a brush of mouths. Curious, anxious, insecure. He brushed his lips against yours and stopped, as if giving you time to decide what to do. To have Hotch there like that, with you like you wanted him to be, it went to your head in a burst of delight and you were the one who urged forward and fully pressed your lips together, hands going to rest on his forearms. He tasted good. So unique, so fine.

You kissed slowly. Exploring, getting to know each other’s mouths little by little with tongues and lips. But then you got impatient, excited, and you pressed your lips more hardly against his, wanting to make those kisses as deep and breath taking as you could. Hotch responded immediately at that incentive, kissing you just as intensively as you wanted him to. And so, one of his hands slipped down to your throat and he squeezed it slightly, putting pressure. Such an amazing pressure. And it made you moan. At that point, after all those kisses, you didn’t even bother to try to repress it.

“I have been wanting to make you moan again since that night” Hotch said against your lips and that, actually made you moan again. Louder this time and it made his squeeze on your neck get tighter and if you were being honest, you weren’t having it any other way.

You kept on kissing, bodies fully pressed against one another, mouths devouring each other unstoppably until your hands found the buttons of his shirt and you started opening them. It seemed to take hours but you finally managed to slip the shirt out of him, the piece of clothing ending up on the floor just to be shortly joined by your own t-shirt.

Hotch’s hands then were on your waist, gripping at the bare skin of your hips in a way that made you weak. One of your hands was on his cheek and the other, played with the short hair at the back of his neck. Together you moved towards the bed, mouths only letting go to do so. You pushed Hotch to the bed and he sat at the edge of it, looking up at you breathless and with his mouth very reddened from the kisses. He was beautiful.

You moved to sit on his lap, hands on his neck and mouth back on his because you already missed it. Through the layers of your intimate clothes and both of your pants, you felt his hard member beneath you. As you kissed you pressed your body down into him, pressing his member, and his breath hissed. You smiled.

Hotch gripped your thighs with his hands firmly and flipped you both around, making you lay back on the bed as he got above you. He kissed you, tongue exploring your mouth and hands squeezing so tightly your thighs that you felt like you were going to burst.

His hands went to open the button of your jeans and you helped him get rid of it. Another piece on the floor. Then, after giving you a series of quick kisses, Hotch stood up from the bed and started to take out his own pants. You just watched him, smiling with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Liking the view?” he asked with a smirk, and oh, that was a version of Hotch you could easily get used to. The way he took out the pants and disposed it to the side, standing now in just black boxer briefs, eyes not leaving you not for a second, that was something you wanted to mark in your memory.

“How could I not?” you replied just when he knelt back on the bed and then, crawled his way to be on top of you again. Looking up at his face, you sighted. That was amazing. What was happening… you couldn’t have predicted it not even in your best dreams.

Hotch kissed you again, hands traveling to your back just so that he could undo your bra. One more piece gone. One of his hands slowly found your left breast and he caressed it in his hands, making you moan again and again. He kissed you. He kissed your breasts. He kissed you again. His hands caressed your skin unstoppably.

“Hotch…” you moaned his name when he began to give you small bites here and there, the feeling of your skin between his teeth making you suck in a breath. He probably noticed the desperation in your voice, because next thing you knew he was sliding his kisses down to your belly and then, he kissed your pussy from above your panties. “Hotch” his name was emitted from your mouth again, louder this time.

He took his time just kissing you like that, with that layer between his mouth and your intimacy. Torturing you to the most. When he found it proper he removed your panties using both of his hands and after discarding them just like he had done with his pants, he used his hands to spread your thighs and get his face close to your pussy. He kissed your thighs, ignoring your intimacy. You could feel his hot breath down there and it made you lose your mind. You could almost feel yourself dripping your wetness into the bed.

“Hotch!” you urged him to stop teasing, eyes shut and chest raising and falling incredibly fast due to your erratic breathing. The moan you gave out when his mouth finally came in contact with your pussy was obscene. Was loud and you did not give a damn about it because you had your boss's face between your legs and that was it. That was all you cared about right then.

He sure as hell knew what to do with his mouth. He kissed, sucked and he fucked you with his tongue, his saliva mixed with the wetness of your own body making you become a moaning mess. Your hands went to his short hair and you gripped tightly at it, pulling. You moaned again, and that made him moan a bit. Suddenly the feeling of his mouth was gone and you felt extremely disappointed. Just a bit more…

One of his fingers found it’s way inside your body and your moan was cut short by his mouth back on yours. You tasted yourself on his mouth and the thought alone almost made you come. After a couple seconds, another finger joined in and the feeling of having them coming in and out of your body was incredible. Your hands stayed in his hair, pulling and gripping like you were holding yourself into dear life.

His movements were slow, calculated. The kisses were deep. At some point, you made it know you wanted more by sliding one of your hands down between both of your bodies and touching him through his briefs. He stopped kissing you, stopped the movements of his hand and looked into your eyes. You smiled at each other, and then he pulled back away from you to get rid of the last layer. The last piece ended on the floor.

You motioned to grab at his hard member, bit he held your wrist gently halfway and you frowned. “Another time. Right now” he came close again and with one of his hands, stroked your hair for a bit. “I want to make you feel good”

“Okay” you managed to say, already excited by the idea of 'another time'. You were certain, that was something you wanted to keep happening and for the look on Hotch’s face, he did too.

You both moaned together when he entered your body with his member. Finally. His mouth and fingers had made you as slick and open they could and you managed to fit all of him inside of you, all pain disappearing in just a few moments as you locked your legs around his waist.

Hotch looked into your eyes again, smiled by seeing your clearly pleasured expression and then began to move. Slowly, enjoying every bit of it. But after so much previous teasing, he couldn’t hold himself back too much and hearing you moan like that, probably didn’t help his state of mind.

His movements became rough, fast. You both moaned and moaned, each other’s names being the only thing leaving your mouths. One of Hotch’s hands found your throat and the feeling of his fucking you with the squeeze on your neck made you come, moaning loudly. So loudly. Hotch came just a few movements after, moaning too.

He laid beside you, both of you breathing heavily with your skins glistening in sweat. You kissed him once more before snuggling up to his chest and closing his eyes, you fell asleep.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

“Morning, guys” Prentiss said, yawning while joining the rest of the team in the hotel lobby. The sun had just raised itself in the sky and you were all heading to the local precinct.

“Morning” Morgan replied, smiling by her clearly sleepy face. Sitting by Garcia’s side in one of the couches, he had a cup of coffee in his hand. “Hope you all had a nice night of sleep, because this day will probably be too long”

“I couldn’t sleep until four” Reid said with a heavy sight, also having a cup of coffee in his hands. Standing beside you, he looked to Hotch and then back at you before whispering. “The walls were really thin”

[scriptmedic]

TENSION PNEUMOTHORAX MULTI-ASK

Hey there lovelies! Thanks so much for your asks!

First off, basics: check the ( thoracic trauma ) tag and the ( pneumothorax ) tag. This is ground we've covered before!

There's also a chapter in Blood on the Page: a Writer's Compendium of Injuries (amazon link; yes, I am the author) on pneumothoraces. I believe it's in section 2.2: Penetrating Trauma > Chest.

I genuinely thought this chapter had already posted, but it hasn't.

So have a free chapter on me! (Below the cut)

Tension Pneumothorax

Lethality Index

5 / 5

What Is It?

Tension pneumothorax is a life-threatening injury that occurs when air gets into the chest but is outside the lungs. The buildup of air begins to put pressure on the lung, the heart, and the great veins. The condition is rapidly lethal.

Breathing is a pressure system. To inhale, the body pushes the diaphragm down and expands the ribs, which creates negative pressure in the lungs; that negative pressure draws air into the lungs from the outside world. To exhale, the diaphragm comes up and the chest relaxes — it gets smaller — pushing the air out. Easy peasy.

Tension pneumothorax changes this closed system to an open one, where air leaks from the lung into the sac around the lungs (the pleura) and gets trapped there. Positive pressure then builds up in the pleura, compressing the lung.

The fact that there's air in the lung is known as simple pneumothorax. (Pneumomeans air, and thorax means chest.)

What makes a tension pneumothorax such a big problem is that the air pocket in the pleura becomes large enough that it collapses the lung.

In addition to collapsing the lung, having that much pressure on one side of the chest is a big problem. It actually causes the organs of the chest to shift, to skooch over to the other side. In that shifting, the heart and other lung wind up pinching off blood flow through the heart, reducing blood flow everywhere.

Clinical Signs

· Severe, worsening shortness of breath, with rapid breaths.

· Diaphoresis (sweating).

· Elevated heart rate.

· Narrow pulse pressure (the “distance” between the systolic (top number) pressure and the diastolic (bottom number) pressure; e.g. 90/80 instead of 120/80).

· Engorged veins in the neck (jugular venous distention, JVD).

· Cyanosis (bluing of the skin of the lips and nail beds). (Late)

· Cold, clammy skin. (Late)

· Tracheal shift — the trachea is no longer midline in the neck, and instead is pushed away from the affected lung. (Late)

· Loss of consciousness. (Late)

· Death. (Late)

Symptoms

· Pain at the injury site and possible pain in the rest of the chest.

· Trouble breathing and panic.

· Feeling of impending doom.

· Dizziness, disorientation.

How Does It Happen?

Tension pneumothorax develops when a character suffers penetrating trauma to the chest that allows air to move between the outside and inside of the chest. This can be the result of a stabbing, shooting, impalement, or other penetrating trauma. It's especially common when the lung itself has been lacerated.

Immediate Treatment

Keep the character upright.

Provide oxygen, if available.

If the character is in respiratory failure — if they're dying — someone might give them mouth-to-mouth resuscitation or use a bag-valve-mask (BVM) to ventilate them. This actually makes the pneumothorax worse, but it may be beneficial in the short term because of increased gas exchange.

Needle Decompression

Needle decompression is the act of taking a big fat IV catheter and sticking it into the chest on the affected side. (There are two landmarks in common use: between the 2nd and 3rd ribs, on a line drawn straight down from the middle of the clavicle, or between the 5th and 6th ribs, in line with the front border of the armpit. These are technically called the 2nd intercostal space (ICS) at the midclavicular line, and the 5th ICS at the anterior axillary line.

Needle decompression works by giving the air trapped in the pleura an effective way out.

The problem with needle decompression is that, especially with larger characters, it isn't necessarily effective. Oftentimes the needle is simply too short to reach the pleura, especially in larger characters with strong pectoralis muscles or fat deposits, including breasts. Other times the catheter may kink or get backed up with blood.

Definitive Treatment

Needle decompression has the potential to be a definitive treatment for the injury, but only if it's effective in the first place, and only if the needle is hooked up to some form of drain system to make sure that air can escape.

Surgery / Hospitalization

Diagnostics will include a chest X-ray and likely a chest CT, though if the character is in mortal danger, these will always take a back seat to a clinical diagnosis – i.e. by signs, symptoms, and history – and providers will treat first and image later.

The definitive treatment for tension pneumothorax is placement of a chest tube or pigtail catheter in the chest. A chest tube is a large, straight tube, while a pigtail catheter is of a smaller diameter and is curled, like a pig’s tail.

Both are simple, quick procedures in the ER. They both involve putting a tube into the chest at the 4th or 5th intercostal space (between the 4th–5th or 5th–6th ribs) vertically aligned with the armpit (axillary line).

The end of the tube will have something called a Heimlich valve, which is a one-way valve (air can go out but not in).

Another option is a procedure called a finger thoracostomy. The surgical landmark is the same as for all other procedures, but the act is simpler and more brutal. The site is identified and the doctor — who is likely an ER physician — simply cuts down through the chest wall until they're touching lung. This is done in extreme circumstances, where the character is about to die. Otherwise, a chest tube or pigtail catheter is preferred.

In the Austere Environment

Characters who suffer a tension pneumothorax in extreme conditions are likely to die, unless a knowledgeable character with the correct equipment is around.

In settings before about 1950, the character is also likely to die, and they'll die gasping. Treatment of the tension pneumothorax requires understanding pressures inside the chest, which weren't readily measurable till then. Trauma surgery simply hadn't advanced to the point of understanding this rapidly lethal wound until that point.

The Rocky Road to Recovery

Capabilities Retained

Characters will retain the use of all four limbs and will be cognitively unaffected (barring brain damage from an extended period of low oxygen levels).

Disabilities: Temporary

Your character is likely to have a sensation of pressure at the catheter insertion site. Once the lung is reinflated, they can walk and perform most normal activities while the wound heals.

They will be instructed not to fly for six months after the pneumothorax. This is because altitude affects pressure and can cause reexpansion of the pneumothorax.

Disabilities: Permanent

Tension pneumothorax shouldn't cause any permanent disabilities, unless there are other complicating features of the injury.

Features of Recovery: Hospital Stay

Characters with no other complications, who respond well to the pigtail, can actually be sent home with the catheter in place. Characters with other injuries or who got bigger tubes will likely be admitted.

Features of Recovery: Aftercare

Characters will be instructed to walk up to their capacity, and increase their walking daily. They may want to use a pillow or other object to hold when they cough, because that can be painful.

If a character is sent home, they must come back for follow-up X-ray within 48 hours, to make sure the pneumothorax hasn't reexpanded.

The catheter should be removed after 3–5 days if no other issues arise.

Complications

Pigtail catheters are good for patients because they're smaller than chest tubes, which means they hurt less and can often be sent home in the patient.

Pigtail catheters are bad for patients because they're smaller tubes, which means that they might kink and then fail to vent out the air they need to get rid of.

Flying before the recommended date can cause another pneumothorax, though this is unlikely to be severe enough to collapse the lung again. However, the character might experience significant shortness of breath and exhaustion.

The New Normal

If the lung tissue itself wasn't damaged by the object, your character will return to their full function within 2–4 weeks. (No Disability)

If the lung was damaged by the injury, they may have other complications with the lung.

Future Risks

Even when they think they're healed, significant, rapid changes in altitude within the first 6 months could cause your character's pneumothorax to recur. No long-term risks are known.

Total Recovery Time (Typical)

Uncomplicated: 2–4 weeks

Complicated: Minimum 4 weeks but typically longer, depending on the damage

Sensory

Sights

The hole in the chest might be small, or it might be fairly large. Through a large enough hole, characters can see the injured's lung expanding and collapsing with each breath.

Sounds:

The wound may make a sucking noise as the character breathes. (This is known, appropriately, as a sucking chest wound.)

Medspeak

Tension pneumothorax is abbreviated in a chart as TPTx or TPx, and is colloquially known as a "tension pneumo."

Chest tubes are listed in various sizes; pigtails tend to be 12 French or 14 French, whereas chest tubes are larger: 24 Fr to 36 Fr. Pigtails are inserted over a guide wire, which is called the "Seldinger technique." They are held in place with a kind of stitching called "purse string" suture.

A TPTx that also has significant pooling of blood in the pleural space is a hemopneumothorax, or a "hemopneumo."

The landmarks are almost never said as "intercostal space," but referred to as the "ICS."

Key Points

· Tension pneumothorax is a rapidly lethal condition, developing from slight trouble breathing to deadly within minutes to an hour.

· TPTx collapses the lung and puts enormous pressure on the heart. It also kinks the great vessels.

· TPTx is treated by allowing the built-up air to escape. This is done with a needle, insertion of a tube, or cutting down until the lung can “communicate” directly with the outside world.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Toby - Human

Figured it was about time I wrote something for the Toby I see.

Summary: Dating Toby was hard, so, so hard. You always did your best to push through, but there are days where even you feel close to breaking, and it’s up to the both of you to pick up each other’s pieces.

Warnings: Bittersweet ending, Toby has yet to open up to the reader, And the reader reaches their breaking point, Because they love him SO much, But they can’t help him if he doesn’t allow them to, This is just sad sad sad, A bad argument happens, But they try to work through it, Because love is a choice, And you have to support those you love

Recommended song to listen to while reading: Human by Christina Perri

~

It was hard. Sometimes, it was really, really hard for you. You knew that when you started dating Toby that there would be days like this, you really did, but sometimes it just hurts your heart so much to see him like this. You promised him you'd be patient and understanding, and you were absolutely going to, but sometimes you just came so close to cracking and risking all the trust and care you'd spent all these days building up.

He had been sitting in the same spot since about seven this morning, and as you checked your watch once again you noted that it was now closing in on nine in the evening. He hadn't eaten a single thing all day, everyone else knowing to avoid him in these situations because even if they tried to give him food he'd refuse it, either bursting into sad hysterics or an endless rage at being spoken to in these situations.

You had spent the majority of your day sitting near him, watching him, looking to see if there had been any sort of change in him, but there hadn't been. The only times he moved were to blink, change his sitting position, or if one of his physical tics occurred. He'd just been sitting there, staring off into the distance, unspeaking and unresponsive. Occasionally, a few tears would stream down his cheeks, but he either never noticed or didn't care, and you weren't sure. You just continued watching him.

It was ten when he had finally moved, stretching his body out with a grunt, before turning and standing up from his perch by the window before his eyes landed on you. You could see so many emotions in his eyes, pain, sadness, anger, hatred; and yet when he looked at you, it seemed as though he was trying to hide them. He stretched his mouth into a grin you could immediately tell was fake and forced, and he padded over to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

"Hey, Honey. What're you doing down here all by yourself?" The forced happy tune in his voice was the thing that finally broke you, the thing that finally snapped the rope that had been unraveling for months now.

"Don't do that." Your words were quiet, and you were beginning to shake, and tears were already rolling down your cheeks, thick and hot. Toby seemed genuinely surprised at your reaction, and he looked at you in confusion.

"Don't do wh-what?" You tried so hard to hold it in, tried so hard not to yell at him because you knew what it would do to him, but your patience was getting tested and you weren't sure how many tiny little droplets of it you had left.

"Don't act like everything is okay when it's obviously not. I'm not stupid, I'm not blind to what's happening with you, so stop acting like I can't see what you're going through." You did your best to keep your voice level, but the anger in your voice did little to help in the situation. Toby was immediately defensive.

"You d-don't have to worry about it, I'm okay, so don't get upset." He raised his hands in defense, and maybe you would have dropped it to stop the oncoming fight if it wasn't for the look of annoyance in his eyes setting you off.

"Why can't you just open up to me? I mean, I don't need to hear your entire life story, but you haven't told me ANYTHING! I didn't even know you had a sister until someone else had mentioned it in passing!" Your voice had gotten louder, and as you gestured with your arms in anger Toby felt himself backing away.

"M-m-maybe I'm just not ready yet! Can't you j-j-just wait a bit longer?!" He had finally raised his own voice at you, and you scoffed at him, tears running down both of your faces in steady streams.

"How much longer am I supposed to wait?! We've known each other for three years, and we've been dating for one! I'm sorry that I want to know about you, Toby! I'm sorry that I want to help you, Toby!" You took a deep breath, and he cut you off.

"Well, why do you-" And in turn, you cut him off.

"No, shut up! Just shut up for a second!" You screamed out, and despite him wanting to keep going, he bit his tongue exhaled, allowing you to continue.

"I do NOT want to force you to open up to me Toby, but you have to tell me something, anything at all! How to help you, bits and pieces of what happened- I don't give a fuck what it is! But I have to know something! I can't keep doing this! I can't just keep pretending that everything is okay when it's not! You shut yourself off into your own little world and lock me out, and then you act as nothing happened, and I'm sick of it! It's hurting me, Toby! I can't stay in this relationship with you if you don't let me in."

You had screamed out at him, allowing everything you'd been holding in for the last few months to be let free, and by the end of it you were a tired, heaving mess, tears still flowing out, hands wrapped around your sore neck from how loud you had shouted. You couldn't even see Toby in front of you from how watery your eyes were, and he just stood there in silence for a few moments before you heard it. Toby had started crying, sobbing out, nearly wailing, crumbling into a ball on the floor, and at the sound of it, your crying increased as well. You quickly wiped at your eyes, trying to clear your vision so you could see him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled..." You chanted out, your voice cracking, but Toby shook his head back and forth quickly, his eyes covering his eyes and scrunched in his hair, choking out sobs as he struggled to breathe.

He tried to talk, but he couldn't quite get it out, the sobbing and stuttering overtaking him too much, although to you it sounded as though he had said 'It's not your fault', and that only made you cry even more. You slowly reached out to him, afraid that if he were touch repulsed you'd upset him, or that maybe he just wouldn't want to be touched, but as he finally looked up at you, your hands shaking and reaching out for him, eyes red and puffy, he let out another loud sob before leaping into your arms, resting his head against the crook of your neck as he tackled you backward.

The two of you held each other for a few moments, just crying out all of the feelings you'd both been holding in for far too long, grasping onto each other as though you'd disappear if you let go. It could've been an hour or ten minutes before you'd both finally stopped crying, but that didn't matter to either of you, all that mattered was that you were together, and alive.

"I am so, so, sorry..." Toby eventually breathed against your neck, and he pulled back to gaze at you, wiping the tears off of your face. "You have nothing t-to apologize for. I shouldn't have held this in for so long, but I thought-" He hesitated, and you smiled softly at him, reaching up to brush away his own tears.

"You thought I'd leave you, or negatively change my opinion of you if you told me?" He nodded at your words, his face scrunched up, and you wanted to cry again at that, but instead, you leaned up to delicately press your lips against his, and he whimpered against you, pressing his lips back against yours.

"Toby, the second we started dating I decided that I would accept you for who you are. I don't care what you've been through, what you've done- because all of that stuff brought you to me. I will never change my opinion of you because of any of that. I love you. I love you, Toby!" You let out a choked cry, and he scrunched his face up tighter, most likely trying to stop any more tears from coming out.

"I l-l-l-love you too..." He choked out, his body shaking above you as he tried to stop himself from breaking down again.

Sometimes, people don't feel ready to open up to someone else. But sometimes, you have to choose between opening up before you're ready or losing that person you don't want to open up to. For Toby, he knew without a doubt in his mind what the answer would be. That night, the two of you spent hours on that couch opening up together. Toby had finally told you damn near everything about himself, about his life, about his past, his trauma- it all just spilled from his lips without him being able to halt it.

You'd both taken a few breaks, Toby being unable to speak through some of his sobs, but never once did you stop him. Never once did you judge him for what he was saying, never once did you grow uncomfortable. You just sat there quietly, crying with him, supporting him, listening, and memorizing everything he told you. You loved Toby, and he loved you- the two of you would work through your issues together, no matter how long it took, or how hard it was because that's what relationships were- they were hard.

Nothing comes easily in love, because love is a choice. You choose to love someone, you choose to accept their history, their trauma, their faults. You and Toby had chosen each other, and so you would do whatever you could to remain together because that's what you do for the person you love, and to you, there was no one you'd rather put the effort in for than the boy in front of you, the boy that had stolen your heart and made it your own.

Your Toby.

[bill-y]

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄

Peeta Mellark x male reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part three: Click this, Rumtumtugger.

Part four: you're here, jennyanydots

Part five: Clicky dicky here, buddy

Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass

Those words left my mouth without much thought. I wasn't thinking of the damned consequences at the moment.

Behind me was Kunal, an iron grip on my leg, bawling his eyes out. "Y/N! NO! NO! YOU CAN'T GO!" he pleaded, his cries getting louder by the second. 

My hand ruffled his strawberry blonde hair, messing it up. "Let go, Nal," I said in the calmest tone I could muster. He shook his head, tears running down his cheeks, I cleared my dry throat, gulping down nothing. My mouth was dry as if I just ate a handful of salt, which was honestly a luxury.

My face remained stoic, the moment I show a sign of distress I know the people in the Capitol would eat it up like good bread. It entertains them, our suffering entertains them. 

His hands slipped from my leg, gripping on my pants before he was finally taken away from me. "Up you go, Owl eyes," said Gale, his voice trying hard to remain steady. Beside him was Katniss, who was holding Kunal by the shoulders. She nodded, "Good luck, Y/n,"

I nodded, before looking back at the temporary stage. "Oh well, Bravo!" Effie exclaimed. "That's the spirit of the games!"

She was thrilled, finally seeing some action from this district. It made a pit in my stomach, I clenched my jaw. If only the roles were reversed, Capitol people fighting for their lives instead of us.

Oh, how funny that would be.

I strode to the stage, trying my best to look collected. The foreboding feeling in my stomach only grew with each step I took, my hands sweating as if they've just been dipped into water once I finally took my place.

"Do tell us your name," Effie said, her grin widening as she nodded, encouraging me to talk. It took all the will power I had to not strangle her.

"Y/n Greyback," I replied dryly, hoping it would set her off.

“I bet my buttons that was your brother. Don’t want him to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let’s give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!” she trilled, making me clench my fists.

Her words were met with silence. No one clapped, not a noise can be heard. Even the ones who would usually bet on who would wound up as a tribute didn't do anything.

I held back a smile, a surge of hope flowing through me. This was the most rebellious thing they could do without getting punishment of any sort. Silence.

Silence doesn't mean fear or that we're cowards. It meant that we do not accept this, we do not condone.

Just as my father always said, one does not need to shout to make a change.

The next thing that happened was even more of a surprise. Maybe it was because I was a son of a "rebel", maybe they pitied my family or maybe it was because I talked to the mayor's daughter.

Just one, then two, then a group almost all of the crowd put the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and held it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.

My tense hands relaxed a sense of calm washing over me. We were united in a strange way, something I thought would only happen in my dreams.

"Look at him! Look at this one!" Hollered Haymitch, throwing an arm around my shoulder. His arm was quite heavy, understandable, he's a wreck. "I like him!"

The scent of alcohol from his breath was strong, or maybe he just smelled of alcohol. "Lots of. . ." He paused, trying to think of a word.

I cringed as he slightly swayed around, trying my best to not touch him. "Spunk!" he declared triumphantly. "More than you!"

He released me, staggering to the front of the stage. "More than you!" He declared once more, pointing towards the camera.

Was he talking to the audience? Or maybe he was addressing the Capitol. I wish it's the latter, that would be funny.

Just as he opened his mouth to continue, he fell down the stage, knocking himself unconscious in the process. I snickered slightly, my face scrunching up right after.

Thankfully, the cameras were all pointed towards him, watching as they whisked him away into a stretcher. I took this moment to glare back into the distance, watching the scenery.

There was the hill that me, Katniss and Gale were just at. It looked so peaceful, contrary to my day.

"What an exciting day!" Effie warbled, trying to fix her tilted wig. It looked ridiculous. Why would Capitol people, no, why would anyone wear that?

It looks ugly, like a beaten up squirrel. Though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't eye-catching, though, beaten up squirrels are also eye-catching. “But more excitement to come! It’s time to choose our next tribute!” she continued, putting one hand to the second bowl.

Her fingertips grab the first slip it encounters. I hoped it wasn't Gale or Katniss. I didn't want to kill them, not that I'd ever stand a chance.

Katniss was extremely skilled with the bow, she could probably shoot my head from miles away. Gale, on the other hand, was strong, compared to him, I had the strength of a broken twig.

"Peeta Mellark," She read. Oh no. Why him? Of all the people in this district. His father just "introduced" me to him this morning, not just that, I knew him.

I watched him make his way up the stage, I had a clear look at him this time. He had a stocky build, medium height,  ashy blonde hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the situation registered on his face, though you could tell that he was alarmed by the way his blue eyes looked.

Like a prey knowing it'd be hunted.

Despite this, he still manages to climb up the small flight of stairs calmly.

Effie Trinket then asked for volunteers, but no one spoke up. He has two older brothers, I've seen them. But one is probably too old to volunteer, and the other just wouldn't. This was standard family devotion, what I'd done was a radical thing.

The mayor began to say the same old words he always says every reaping day. I couldn't help but think, why him?

I remember it all too well, that day, it was raining up a storm, the wind was howling. My mother and my brother were left at home, I was tasked to find food for us since my mother couldn't bear to show her face to the district.

How could she? Her husband has been executed for rebellion against the Capitol. One of the peacekeepers found weapons under his possession and he was killed. He managed to convince them to spare us, though sometimes I wished it hadn't worked.

Within a week of his death, we began to lose money, and therefore, food. Nobody wanted to help us, nobody wanted to associate with the family of a tyrant.

Shame, the family name bared shame. My mother didn't have the gall to go out and sell any of my father's things, my brother was too young to even understand what was going on.

I was angry. How could they have just taken everything away from us that easy? Who gave them the right to do that?

But at that moment, I couldn't afford to sit still and wallow in my resentment. That was a luxury I couldn't afford. not many could afford it either.

Starvation was a fairly common thing in district 12, though the amount of covering up the peacekeepers do no one a favour and fools no one.

There I was, a boy who wasn't even old enough to be registered into the pile walking around in the harsh weather, stripped away from my dignity and whatever money we had.

I found myself in the Mellark's bakery, being told off by the baker's wife, who was tired of having brats from the Seam paw through her trash. I would've screamed back then, but I didn't want the Peacekeepers called on me.

So I left without another word, sitting at a tree for some sort of cover from the harsh rain.  I remember the snorts of the pigs beside me, and that was when I realized I'm no better than cattle; the people of Panim were no better than cattle.

My knees buckles as I collapsed onto the wet grass, shuddering from the cold and the harsh reality. Maybe I had gone insane then, but I vaguely remember talking to the pigs, ranting to them.

They didn't listen, they were too busy rolling in the mud. Looking back, I find this extremely funny, but maybe that's because I don't want to pity myself.

I didn't even notice a boy until the pigs actually rose to eat the pieces of bread thrown at them. I stared at him for a long while, mainly because of the burnt bread, the crust was scorched black.

But a red mark on his cheekbone caught my attention. Had they hit him for burning the bread? My parents have never hit me, I couldn't even imagine what that would feel like.

He took one look at the bakery as if checking if the coast was clear before he turned back to the pigs. Though instead of feeding the pigs he tossed the loaves of bread to me.

I watched him walk towards the bakery and closing the kitchen door tightly behind him. All I could do was stay silent, before shoving them up to my shirt, muttering a broken thank you as I ran home.

The loaves had cooled by the time I got home, but that didn't matter. We had something to eat. Mother looked at me, relieved I didn't die. She hugged me, apologizing.

I didn't care though, we had food, that's what's important.

And for the first time in weeks, we had a proper meal.

I was thankful, the fact that he'd probably burnt the bread on purpose never occurred to me until I crawled onto the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. An act of kindness, someone still cared.

It was as if spring came overnight, fluffy clouds, blue sky, the warm sweet air. At school, we would always catch each other's gazes. I felt a tad bit bad, his cheek was swollen and his eye had blackened.

I couldn't come up to say thank you, instead, I watched him from a distance, contemplating whether I should. When I went to fetch Nal, out eyes met once more, I was about to mouth a thank you until Nal tugged my shirt.

He handed me a dandelion. He's always loved flowers. His love for it made me realize how I would get the food we needed. All that time I and my father spent in the forest won't be for nothing.

To this day, I still feel as if I owe my family's life to him. I had honestly given up, but he gave me something. Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread and the dandelion, both gave me hope.

Maybe if I had said thank you all those years ago I wouldn't be feeling so guilty now. I could always say it but something about thanking him whilst I'm practically holding a knife against his throat seems dishonest.

The mayor finished his speech, telling us to shake hands. His were as warm and firm as those loaves of bread. He squeezed me as if reassuring me. Or maybe those were just nervous spasms.

We turn back to the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.

There are twenty-four of us fighting in that arena, as grim as it is, let's just hope someone kills him before I'm forced to. I don't wanna kill the reason I've survived all those years.

Word count: 2026

Tags:

@nin3s

Sorry for the late update my exams are next week and im rushing to finish my requirements at school. :"

[a-pretty-nerd]

Chapter 8

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word count: 2,214

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (sexual assault does not occur). 

A/N: 

This took so long for no reason, I am so sorry. I hate the holidays, I’m always so busy and can’t do anything I enjoy and it just drained all my time and energy. I’m so glad it’s over. Anywhoo, I hope ya’ll like this chapter! 

Chapter 7 Chapter 9

You starred up at the ceiling, nodding off into space as your mind wondered. The cracks in the ceiling painting an abstract paining, giving you much to ponder on. You had been thinking about Shigaraki. The man had plagued your thoughts. You knew very little about him and it bothered you.

He subverted every expectation you had about villains. He was ruthless and driven, yes. Crude and dastardly, of course. But the glimpses of kindness he showed you, made your mind spin. Why was he so kind to you? Why was he training you to use your abilities? And why, on God's green earth were you attracted to him?

It made your head spin to think about. About him. His eyes. It was those red eyes. So bright in color and deep in thought. The way he looked at you, like he saw you. When was the last time someone had looked at you that way? Reality would soon sink in after these thoughts. Reminding you that you should fear him, hate him even. That you should be working to get yourself free. But, you hadn't made a single attempt to escape. What was there to escape? You weren't in any immediate danger. In fact, you were being taken care of.

A knock at the door shook you from your train of thought. Without waiting for an answer, the man you knew as Dabi walked in, and closed the door behind you. His glassy blue eyes watched you as he moved. He stood up against the wall adjacent from you, watching you, leering over you. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe, this is where your torture begins. Wordlessly he looked away to pull out a pack of cigarettes, place one to his lips and then look back at you.

"You don't mind, do you?" He asked. You shook your head. He turned away to use his quirk to light the thing and then silently take a few drags as he looked off into the distance. Was he going to rape you? This was the perfect opportunity for him to. You were honestly shocked you hadn't been by now. Normally, kidnapping victims were sexually assaulted in some way. But no one seemed interested, until now.

Would you have to fight him off? Could you fight him off? If you screamed would anyone come to help you? Would he kill you?

"What do you want?" You asked after a few minutes of silence. He looked back at you and raised a brow.

"I just wanted to smoke in piece. It's raining outside." He told you before going back to his smoking. "I do have a question for you though."

"What?"

"You really the big guy's daughter?" He took another drag.

"Yeah. Why?" He shrugged.

"The way you talk about him. Sounds like you don't get along." You shrugged.

"I don't know him enough." Dabi scoffed before finishing his cigarette and stomping it out. He licked his lips and kicked his leg as he shifted his weight. His eyes darting back to the door before looking at you again.

"You ever wanna be a hero?" He chuckled.

"No." Your voice firm and decided. He smiled.

"Why?"

"It's a shit job where I'm from."

"It's a shit job here." He remarked. You nodded.

"I know. Heroes are shit." You shared a few smiles with one another.

"With a quirk like yours, you could really do some damage."

"I know."

"Something tells me this isn't your first time off your meds. It can't be."

"It's not."

"Care to share-"

"No." You barked. The idea of it made your stomach turn and your heart ache. You worked so hard to push that down you weren't about to have that break down in front of a stranger. Dabi raised his brows and threw his hands up in a mocking motion.

"Alright, fine. None of my business." He scoffed.

"What do you want?" You asked again, not satisfied with his previous answer. He sucked on his teeth for a moment before answering.

"Shigaraki asked me to over see your training while he's out."

"He's gone?" You asked softly, maybe a little too softly.

"Afraid so. So it's just you...and me..." He smiled. You held your legs up to your chest and pulled them close. He looked you over and then scoffed. "Don't worry, kid, I'm not that kind of villain. Now get up, I'm your trainer for now and I'm not nearly as forgiving as the boss." He turned and opened the door, waiting for you to follow.

"Do you know why?" You asked as you laid your feet flat on the concrete floor. Dabi looked back at you with an emotionless expression. A face he often wore, it screamed "auto-pilot." Like he wasn't really all there.

"Why what?"

"Why he's training me. I don't understand. Why waist time with a hostage like this? Isn't he worried I couldn't fight back and escape?" You asked. Dabi thought for a moment as he watched you pass through the door and out into the living room.

"What goes through that lunatic's mind is beyond me." He closed the door behind you. "But if I had to take a guess, I'd say he's planning something using your quirk."

"Like what?" He shrugged and walked passed you, turning a corner into what used to be the building's break room, now a make-shift kitchen where temporary supplies were being stored.

"Fuck if I know." He muttered as he went about his business. He opened and rummaged through the fridge before turning back to you. "You hungry?" He asked.

"Um...no." You lied. He starred at you before turning back.

"That's a pity. You need to eat. Keep up your strength. You can't use your quirk properly if you don't have the right fule. Here." He threw a small blurry package at you. The lite weight objected bounced between your hands for a moment before you finally grabbed ahold of it. Instant noodles. Right fule huh?

"This is fule?" You asked.

"What? Were you expecting the fucking food pyramid? Do we look rich to you?"

"No, I just...the way you were talking. Like we were gonna chug raw egg yolks, it's just funny." You smiled. You made yourself the sad excuse for a meal and sat at the small plastic table and ate as Dabi made his own disaster. You watched him. By all accounts, he was a relatively normal guy. It always shocked you, how normal everyone was. How they moved and acted. Not like the villain characters you'd imagined in your head. But just, people.

As he sat down across the table from you, he set down two canned sports drinks, sliding one over to your side without a word. You took it and popped it open before taking a sip. You furrowed your brow.

"Sugar free?" You asked. He looked up at you, as if you had interrupted something important.

"What? Sugars bad for you, makes me bloated." Your smile widened. He relaxed his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. "What the fuck is so funny?" He barked. It only made you laugh.

"I'm it's just...I don't know.."

"Just what?"

"It's just so normal!" You flashed a dazzling smile without even trying. "Everyone here is just so...I don't know, human. Nothing like I expected. They paint this big scary picture on the other side but, everyones just so normal. Even nice at times, yknow?" He brushed you off and went back to eating. "So what's the plan right now?" You asked, picking at your food.

"What?" He asked, annoyed.

"The plan, the big scary villain plan. Now that the plan with me clearly failed. What's the big picture?" Why were you so happy? What's with that smile, those eyes. Dabi looked you over, trying to figure you out.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah! I wanna know."

"Why?"

"Because." He looked at you like he was waiting for you continue. You starred back blankly.

"Because?"

"Because."

"Oh my god."

"C'mon."

"Eat your food." He ordered.

"Please?"

"Shut up and eat."

"Are you gonna use my quirk to blow up a hero agency?"

"No."

"A military target?"

"A what?"

"Government building?" He rolled his eyes and stomped his foot.

"I don't know! Alright!? I don't know." The room fell silent for a moment. You ate a few more bites before finishing and waiting for him.

"So Shigaraki doesn't share everything with you, I take it?" You interjected.

"No he doesn't."

"So you trust him?" You asked.

"No."

"But you still follow his directions regardless?" You poked.

"Our agendas line up, that's all you need to know."

"Mh, okay. What are your agendas exactly? I have a vague idea of Shigaraki's and Toga's but I don't know yours."

"Why do you care?"

"I...." you thought about it for a little while. "I'm just trying to make sense of it all. Why, things are the way they are." He starred at you for a while. His blue eyes piercing your flesh.

"You already know why."

"Wait? Wait? What do you mean, wait!?" Your mother shouted furiously across the meeting room table. Rows of tables lined with pro-heros watched her out burst.

"I know you're concerned, but with all due respect ma'am-"

"Concerned!? Concerned!? I'm beyond concerned, I am livid! We finally know where my daughter is being held captive and you want to wait!?" She cried.

"Mrs. Please, we understand your concerns and believe me, we're going to get her as soon as we can but we can't just bust in there like last time."

"Last time?" Xavier piped up. "This has happened before?" The heroes looked at one another with a puzzled expression. Your father gave an exhausted sigh.

"A few years ago, a student of mine was kidnapped in an attempt to recruit him. Thankfully we were able to rescue the student, but it cost us. A run-in with All for One, Shigaraki's old mentor, nearly killed Best Jeanist, and led to my retirement. Since then, Shigaraki and his followers have become much more of a threat. We can't risk starting an all out battle again. They've positioned themselves in a very populated area. If we aren't careful, Shigaraki alone could decimate everyone and everything. We have to be careful about this." He explained.

"This isn't just about Y/N's safety anymore. We have to find a way to get her out of there without endangering the city around her." Eraserhead noted, looking down at the papers he held in had hands.

"If that's the case, shouldn't we be sending in heroes who specialize in stelth? If we can get her out there without anyone noticing, we won't have to fight. That way, we have time to evacuate everybody in case of an all out fight." A young voice suggested.

"I could see how that would be effective, Deku. But in order to pull off a mission like that we'd need more information. At this rate, even a stealth mission would be a rash discussion." Bubble Girl stood to attention at the projection on the screen.

"What about the girl herself? She didn't say anything about their numbers or the hideout itself?" DynaMight asked, his brows furred, eyes starring off into space in thought.

"Unfortunate no, and theres no way to contact her further at the moment. It's too dangerous." Eraserhead answered.

"Ugh, Heroes. Useless." Xavier spat, throwing himself from his seat and storming out of the room. Toshinari watched him and then turned back to your mother who sat there with her head hung low. Her dainty fingers shoving tears away from her face.

"This is all your fault." She muttered before standing and following Xavier out of the room. Your father sat there, frozen, unable to process or move or speak. She was right. It was his fault, he thought. If only he had asked you to stay that night. If only he took better care of you, if only he spent more time with you, if only, if only, if...only...

"Um, uh...meeting adjourned. You're dismissed." Your father shuffled out into the hallway, his head hanging low.

"Um...A-All Might?" A soft voice spoke. He slowly turned to find young midoriya standing there. His eyes sparkling as they always did. They never lost their sparkle, after all he'd been through.

"Young Midoriya..."

"...I...I never knew you had a daughter..."

"You weren't supposed to. No one was." He answered with a blank and flat tone.

"Right. Of course. I just...well...she doesn't have..."

"No. One for All isn't genetic so it's not passed on to a user's children. Why? Are you worried that Shigaraki might still be after it?" Deku nodded. Toshinori sighed and looked off in the distance. "You heard the phone call. She seemed fine...she even laughed. I haven't heard her laugh since..." he trailed off. Since she was a child. He hadn't heard you laugh since you were little. The revelation tugged at his weakened heart, shattering it to pieces.

"Sir?" Deku asked.

"Promise me something young Midoriya."

"What is it?"

"The world needs dedicated and strong heroes," Deku looked up at him with a determined furrowed brow, "but don't let it rule your world."

Taglist: 

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff

[crescent-yoon]

only in my lucid dreams

Part 3

★ Seojun's POV ★

all i could hear beneath my feet was the crunching of snow. it snowed heavily the previous night, making it difficult for me if i had chosen to ride my bike. i was finally coming back to this school after so long and i was nervous. nervous to see you outside of these dreams.

your eyes were just as i had seen them every night - dim yet warm and full of life - as you had set your eyes on me with that brightness that was only shown to me. your hair down and eyes full of wonder as always. when i saw you in these dreams, you had always looked as beautiful as ever. even if you were just simply wearing a pair of ripped jeans and an oversized hoodie. ever so rarely wearing something out of the ordinary for you.

even last night you had worn the clothes that seemed to give you the most comfort, while i had wanted so desperately to show you my uniform. the colors that should've been recognizable to both you and i, sparking your curiosity. sparking that wonder in your eyes.

"why are you wearing that?" you asked as curiosity had played on your face. "it's... a bit different from your usual attire, Seojun."

i couldn't help but to mentally adore how that expression made you look so.. cute.

"yes, well, my mom is a bit sick so my sister and i need to switch schools." i tilted my head to the side just a bit, hoping to give off the cockiest of smirks only for a mix of sincerity and playfulness to show in my expression. "why? are you happy that we're going to the same school, Y/n?"

"so happy i could have a heart attack right now from the overwhelming joy that i'm feeling right now?" you playfully rolled your eyes at me as i gave you a light shove in response, just as we had always done whenever we were enjoying each other's company.

"yeah, yeah. no need to go overboard." i laughed as i took your hand into my own. your hand was cold yet comforting at the same time. it had always been this way as i had kept my thoughts, wondering if you had seen me as a man. "besides, i used to attend this school but things got crazy in my life so i had to move away."

"makes sense, i suppose." everytime you always had little to say, but you never strayed away from me. you did zone out constantly and always made me wonder about the gears turning in your head.

"i know that it's a bit strange but.. do you see me as a man or just a figment of your imagination?" i had asked, truly curious. unfortunately for me, you were so zoned out that you hadn't heard a single word.

"earth to Y/n?" i playfully and softly tapped the bottom of your chin to gain your attention as i had always done. "clearly you weren't listening but i asked you if you-"

you disappeared as i was going to ask again and that had only meant that you had woken up. i was going to get ready for the day too when another dream had started.

i saw you in our school uniform, presumably on your way home after school. you were walking alone unsuspectingly when two huge men had grabbed ahold of you and tried to shove you into a dark looking van. i couldn't hear anything in this dream but one of the guys lips had read, "whether we have to threaten her or threaten you, your mother owes us money and we'll just keep hold of you until she finally pays up."

immediately without hesitation, i felt my feet running. of course i'd run to you. i had to save you. but just as i got close, the ringing of my alarm clock had sounded and i had to get ready for school, that dream set in my mind.

the sight, the feeling, the sounds. all of it felt unbelievably... real.

snapping out of my thoughts, i had walked past the snow covered trees towards the school gates. until i had seen... you. i'm glad that you were still okay which had only meant the event was something that would happen in the future, keeping this in mind, i would discreetly keep an eye on you. even as i remembered the dream before that.

the feel of your hand in mine, the racing of my heart, the curiosity on your face. every bit of it felt so surreal. why is it you, y/n? why do you keep appearing in my dreams like this? at first... at first i thought that you were only meant to be a figment of my imagination. someone that i had made up in spite of my loneliness.

but then the dreams had kept occurring and it all felt too real. especially when i had seen you in real life, in the real world. you hadn't noticed me as you had that zoned expression on your face, unaware that you had brushed my shoulder. that familiar warm, tingly sensation had been felt all over my body. it was really you. and i knew your weren't my imagination when i had heard you lost in thought mumbling the words of "who are you" and "why are we connected, han seojun?".

even now, you looked exactly like you did in my dreams. there was no way that this could all just be... an eery coincidence. but when our eyes met, i knew. i knew that we were connected somehow.

should i approach you? no, i'd look strange. should i pretend as if i had never seen you before? but i had seen you before, in person and in my dreams.

then i had noticed it.

i noticed that unlike me, you weren't wearing a winter coat, though the snow continued to gently land on your eyelashes and melt on your cheeks and nose, a slight shiver coming over your body.

those same warm eyes, they were filled with familiarity and they made me wonder. do you recognize me? you seemed to.

i was going to muster up the courage to approach you until a friend had dragged me away with the ring of the bell.

snapping out of my thoughts and out of the cold weather, i'd been dragged to 2b and there our gazes met again.

i don't know what you were doing but suddenly i had seen you put your hands to the temples of your forehead. at first i had thought you had gotten a headache until i realized. you were concentrating really hard on something. i realized that you're acting just as i did when i realized you were real, probably thinking you had some sort of super power and that thought was so funny that it had me holding back laughter.

"um.. are you okay, y/n?" Suho had asked you as Jugyeong felt your forehead to check your temperature. Their concern had made it even harder to hold back my laughter.

"ahaha, yes, well." you had looked down until you had turned around and saw me laughing.

"so weird." i shook my head, genuinely trying to stop laughing but you looked so much like a confused puppy that it was hard to stop. "what are you even doing, Y/n?"

"huh?" your head tilted in confusion. "how do you-"

i hadn't even realized that i had let your name slip from my mouth. of course i shouldn't have been able to know your name without ever truly meeting you, right? trying to find my way out of the situation, i had remembered that every student had to wear a plated name tag on their shirt.

"nametag." i pointed at the silver plated pin on your jacket. creating a quiet atmosphere before looking out into the hallway from the classroom window with a clearing of my throat.

suddenly i had felt a hard pinch on the back of my neck and it hurt badly. it was almost as if you were trying to make sure i was real. i wanted to ask you why you did that in a calm manner but it had hurt so bad that i had scolded you with a stern and slightly raised voice saying, "why? what do you want so bad that you have to pinch me on my neck like that?"

not realizing a had lowered the volume of our chattering classmates, their eyes all turned in our direction. you very quietly and quickly apologized as you headed back to your seat. i has realized that i had probably embarrassed you. i wanted to apologize but before i could, our teacher had walked in and began class. even with the teacher starting class, my eyes only lingered on you.

the day had been over with and as the students began piling out of the building, i noticed that the snowfall had gotten worse and thought about how you hadn't worn a jacket to school today. amongst all my thoughts, i had also remembered that dream. the one where you had been in danger and i don't think that i could've allowed you to walk home. especially because you had told me once in a dream that you had lived alone.

when you had began taking a step forward, i decided to stop you and had pulled you into my chest.

"Han Seojun?" you looked up in surprise at me, those sparkling eyes staring at me once again. "what's wrong?"

"i know it's a bit weird of me to request something of you when we just met but i need you to trust me." i frowned, taking off my jacket and wrapping it around you seeing as that i couldn't stand to see you cold, teeth slightly chattering. "don't go home today. i need you to come with me."

i didn't really expect you to go with me. after all, you only knew me inside of these dreams we shared. who were you to trust a stranger. but then i saw this determined nod you gave and i felt my heart racing as you had told me-

"i trust you"

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 42

THE ROAD SO FAR

This chapter was a mess. But it's my mess.

FOUR weeks of Silence

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Veteran's Village

A peaceful Sunday meant that Roach, Alex and Soap were chilling at the house Samantha and Maxine were in. It had been 4 weeks since that Cuban incident and Francine had gone to therapy for her near death traumatic experience. If it wasn't for Soap, she would've been left out there for good.

France thought that it would be healthy to stay in a more domestic setup rather than the base so she took her time off duty to recover in the veteran's village. And ever since that day in Cuba, Soap and France's relationship was more expressive than ever.

"If we're having a barbecue tonight, we better head off to the meat shop." Alex peeked by the door, giving a heads up to the rest of the people sitting on the couch. Soap turned his head to Alex and tossed his keys as Roach stood up and came with Alex.

"Any other requests?" He looked at the group then to Maxine, who shook her head and laughed. 

"Just be back safe." She replied.

"Got it." Gary nodded and waved goodbye at them. Soap wanted to come along but France had been falling asleep on his lap for quite a while. And Maxine and Samantha noted that she hadn't had decent for days.

"Oh, Roach! Grab me a cigar maybe." He whispered, trying not to wake France up.

"Roger that." He nodded and made his way to Soap's jeep, where Alex was already waiting on him. He sat himself on shotgun and let Alex lead the way to their destination.

He turned on the radio as it played a song about driving. Roach was quick to shazam it and found out it was Automobile by KALEO.

"Now this is going to be on my playlist." Alex said as his head nodded to the music, taking him where the winds take him, far away.

"Agreed. Oh, Soap actually asked for cigarettes so we might have to stop by a convenience store on the way back." Roach informed as the song ended. 

"Okay. That's cool. Maybe add a few sodas for the girls. They probably haven't had those i  ages." He said as he turned the radio off and switched it to AUX.

"Here. Grab my phone and play that song again." Alex instructed as he drove through the streets, and Roach followed him. Playing the song again.

"Ah yes. This song is good." Alex sighed.

"Yeah. It's fire." Roach commented, making Alex raise an eyebrow.

"You know, fire… lit… slaps… Modern terminologies." Roach explained shyly as Alex chuckled.

"I'll never understand the young ones of today." Alex chuckled as he stopped by the parking lot, pulling his phone and leaving the car.

Dinner was the best part of the Sunday evening as the three couples enjoyed a hearty meal together, sharing experiences and funny stories like an extended family. Roach talked about his raccoon story once again as one topic led to another until such time that the inevitable topic was discussed.

"Speaking of fires, do you have any leads on Nero?" Samantha asked innocently as the men fell quiet, looking at each other. Wondering who would open up the topic.

"Well, uh… After his assault in New York…" Soap trailed off, his eyes went to Alex, signaling him to continue.

"Alex, it's your girl's question! Go answer it!" Soap complained as France laughed, wrapping her arms around Soap.

"He's gone silent." Alex muttered. Samantha was kinda sad she asked about it so she tried to make up by brightening up the mood.

The night continued on as the group played charades, girls vs boys. For an hour or so the soldiers forgot about their worries and acted like they're normal people living their normal lives outside work. It wouldn't hurt to pretend like that, especially when the baggage of guilt was hard to handle.

"So, Gary. I've been meaning to ask you something…" Maxine said as she assisted him in the kitchen.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"How are you… like mentally. You seem… off." She asked, Gary sighed and eased his shoulders.

"It's just… we almost lost a life back there… for nothing. Lannister hasn't said any useful information and as the days go by another assault might occur." he breathed out his worries, earning a back rub from Maxine.

"People have their limits. Lannister could break anytime. Let's just hope we're not too late." She assured him. It was a very negative statement but somehow it's actually helpful. Gary smiled and gave her a hug.

"Thanks Maxine." he said.

"Yeah. Don't ever think you're alone. I'm here for you. Actually, just last night. I had another memory restored. And it felt so important that you have to know it first. Before…" she said, her voice lowering down after every word.

"Before what?" Gary whispered jokingly. Maxine laughed and hit his chest gently.

"Nevermind that word. Back to my memory…

I…" she trailed off, looking like she was too shy and scared to finish the statement.

"You…?" Gary raised an eyebrow. Maxine took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"I had an ex-girlfriend." She blurted and paused right after saying it, bracing at what Gary's reaction.

"I- uh.. That's okay… There's nothing wrong with that, Maxine." He said like he meant it. Maxine was too shocked about his reaction. Maybe she thought about it too much.

"Like… does that change anything?" She asked.

"Nothing at all. Oh wait! Yes! It does." Gary announced and Maxine's smile almost dropped.

"It means that if I want to have you, I'll have to step up my game. I have more competition now." He realized and Maxime sighed in relief. This man was about to get some scolding.

"You worried me, you know!" He continued gently hitting on Gary's chest, giggling away all her fears. He still accepted her. This was great.

"My point's valid!" He laughed, defending himself from her hits,.like children playing house. This may seem like a simple event, but this was the beginning of something new for the two of them.

Task Force 141 Base - Interrogation Room

Price sat in front of Gabriel, they've been silent for about an hour now as Gary and Soap stayed on the viewing area to observe the interrogation. Alex was here thirty minutes ago but he left after he got a phone call.

"What kind of twisted play is this?" Soap asked, crossing his arms and looking at Gabriel.

"The bastard won't talk. Just cut off a finger or something." He scoffed. To Gary, it would make sense, but with all the cameras and the formalities, It wasn't allowed. Especially that Gabriel's alibi was that he got their first to investigate. Which was total bullshit.

"He still has his ace on his sleeve. As long as we don't find proof of involvement, he's going to be free soon." Gary commented, making Soap grumble some Scottish curses.

"It's pretty obvious!" Soap yelled as Alex entered the interrogation room, saying something to Price as they immediately left him alone. Whatever that message was, looked way more important than Gabriel.

"We've got a lead on Nero!" Alex said as he peeked on the door, making the two stand up immediately and head to the briefing room.

"Operation Eye of the Storm." Price announced.

"In 24 hours, Nero and his newfound friends will meet on a hotel in Prague. This intel was from one of the Resistance Leaders Alex once teamed up with. They reached out for help since Nero started to secure the whole city." Price paced back and forth on the big screen.

"The plan is to eliminate Nero and his allies. As simple as that. We have the element of surprise in our hands. Soap, I want you to position yourself on the clock tower, just by the hotel. A bullet to the head should work. Alex will be watching your six. Jack will be our eyes and ears inside the convention. He'll be signaling when they'll be out on the open. Roach and I will enter the building for cleanup. We only had one shot at this so let's make it count." Price briefed and everyone else murmured their thoughts, some were already thanking for a solid lead. This was it. The final showdown. The end of the war.

PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC

Alex and Soap already left the resistance safehouse, they had to be at the clock tower tonight, using the concealment of the night and the noise of the rain for cover. The perfect opportunity to say under the radar. Meanwhile, Roach and Price stayed to defend the place as Nero's men once again ransacked the streets just to ensure his safety. The world may have announced that the war in US was over, but Nero still had some cities under his control. This minor setback was the reason he's planning for something new. And they're here to stop it.

"Alright, Roach. Your replacements here." Price said as he stood up from his spot. 

"Get ready for the big day tomorrow." He added as he nodded and left his gun for the next person to use. Tomorrow's battle is going to be tough, and even though he didn't want to admit it, Roach needed some rest.

Despite the occasional gunfire and screaming, Roach was able to sleep. He didn't mind the battle outside the building as his battle was with Nero. Once Soap shot him dead, he would also want to shoot him again, just to feel satisfied.

0639H 

Hotel Lustig

Prague, Czech Republic

Roach hid on the west wing of the hotel, while Price was on the other side. They were both clinging on to the walls as their entrance was at the small opening where Soap would shoot Nero. Roach eyed the convoy just below him.

"Convoy's up ahead. Nero should be in one of those cars." Soap muttered.

"Can't see shit through the lens. He could be anywhere." Alex added.

"Easy lads. We'll have a clear shot once they're in the balcony. Right Jack?" Price asked. Jack didn't respond, but maybe the signal inside was too weak.

"Jack? Do you copy?" Price asked.

"Da. I do copy, Captain Price. I'm just here to get my old prisoner back. I've had him in the gulag for quite a while but it seems this is our first time meeting face to face." A russian voice which everyone assumed to be Nero said in the most villainous tone possible.

"You're too predictable, Captain." he said as he clicked something, prompting an explosion on the clock tower.

"Get down! C4!" Price yelled as the two soldiers jump out, falling on to railings. Alex landed on a fruit cart by the tower while Soap landed on the car, crashing it as it alarmed.

"Roach! Go help them out!" Price ordered as Nero's men started to circle around the two while the resistance team helped them defend. 

Roach quickly pulled Soap up who was groaning in pain. Alex looked pained too but the look in their eyes says that they're still willing to end this today.

"Let's catch up with them." Alex said as a resistance member tossed them a rifle and quickly hid for cover, pushing their way into the hotel. At the corner of Roach's eye, he saw Price enter the building, loading his gun and ready to end this as well.

Next Chapter : THREE Bullets

Notification Squad my Beloved

@smokeywhalee @enderio @samatedeansbroccoli @whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @bumblingbee1

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXLI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: That’s right PoA gifs are making a comeback -Danny

Words: 3,121

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Three: A Brief Talk.

Mel was packing up the stuff she'd taken to the mission when someone knocked on the front door. 

She heard Erick said he'd get it a second later. Mel put everything in her bag and hung it over her shoulder, rushing out of her room. Dumbledore stared at them with a smile.

"I must say you worked faster than expected."

"We did our best — Oh!" Erick went to the living room and grabbed his bag, drawing out the men's wands. "These are from the death eaters — maybe you'll be able to track them down?"

"I could, if Ollivander hadn't gone missing," Dumbledore said sadly. Mel didn't ask about it, she wasn't ready for any more bad news. "Anything I should know?"

"Yeah," Mel approached. "I'm upset."

Dumbledore gazed at her quietly.

"I said I'd tell you everything and I will, but you must wait a bit longer. We'll visit Harry's house tonight, and pay a visit to Slughorn."

"You said we couldn't talk to him."

"This time will be different. This time I'll go with you."

"How wonderful," Mel said sarcastically.

"I'll get my stuff," Erick gave her a look that was meant to stop her rudeness.

"Very well," Dumbledore nodded, "do close the door on your way out, Mr Flint."

She followed him out in silence, her uncle approached the entrance of the Dursley's house and knocked on it.

"Were you in danger?"

"No."  

"Then you know I didn't lie."

"You didn't tell us everything," She replied. "You keep withholding information and I'm not some disposable thing you can use as you please —"

"That was never my intention," Dumbledore interrupted. "By the end of the year you'll know all, and you'll understand why I've acted this way."

Mel seriously doubted that but she'd been proven wrong before, she was willing to hear his side of the story.

Mr Dursley complained all the way to the door, he opened it abruptly, freezing at the sight.

"Good evening. You must be Mr Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be coming for him?"

Harry rushed down the stairs and stopped at a considerable distance from his uncle. He looked torn between amusement and panic, holding a pair of trainers in one hand and a telescope in the other.

The young witch eyed Mr Dursley up and down and held back a smirk. He was wearing a reddish dressing-gown. The last time she'd been standing this close to the man he'd looked gigantic, now he was barely able to reach her nose.

"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that we were coming," Dumbledore said happily. "However, let us assume that you have invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times. It is a long time since my last visit, I must say, your agapanthus are flourishing. What do you think, Mel?"

"Oh, it's been years," Her voice trembled with contained laughter. "The house looks exactly as I remember, though. Is your chimney still the same after the Weasleys burst through it?"

Harry snorted at this, and this caught the old man's attention.

"Ah, good evening Harry... Excellent, excellent."

"I don't mean to be rude —" Mr Dursley spoke.

"— yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often. Best to say nothing at all, my dear man. Ah, and this must be Petunia— Albus Dumbledore, we have corresponded, of course. And this must be your son, Dudley?"

Mel looked at the boy, it had been almost two years since she'd last seen him: He was muscly big, with the body of a trained wrestler. She didn't like that he'd be able to kill a child with his bare hands and call it a sport.

"Shall we assume that you have invited us into your sitting room?

Dumbledore crossed the hall and she followed, Harry jumped the last steps and approached them.

"Aren't — aren't we leaving?" He inquired.

"Yes, indeed we are, but there are a few matters we need to discuss first. And I would prefer not to do so in the open. We shall trespass upon your aunt and uncle's hospitality only a little longer."

"You will, will you?" The Dursleys were all glaring at them.

"Yes, I shall."

He drew his wand so rapidly that Harry barely saw it; with a casual flick, the sofa zoomed forward and knocked the knees out from under all three of the Dursleys so that they collapsed upon it in a heap. Another flick of the wand and the sofa zoomed back to its original position.

"We may as well be comfortable."

"Sir," Harry started anxiously. "What happened to your — ?"

"Later, Harry. Please sit down."

The boy looked at her searching for an answer, but she had none. It was her first time seeing Dumbledore's injury as well. She walked up to the armchair and stood next to where her uncle had seated. Harry sat in front of them.

"I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment, but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness."

A third twitch of the wand, and a dusty bottle and five glasses appeared in midair. The bottle tipped and poured a generous measure of honey-coloured liquid into each of the glasses, which then floated to each person in the room.

"Madam Rosmerta's finest oak-matured mead," said Dumbledore.

Mel took her glass and inhaled the sweet scent before drinking it, hiding her grin. She was starting to feel less annoyed now that Dumbledore was torturing the Dursleys with his displays of magic.

"Well, a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. But first of all, I must tell you, kids, that Sirius's will was discovered a week ago."

"Oh. Right..." Harry muttered.

"This is, in the main, fairly straightforward. You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringotts, and you inherit a few of Sirius's personal possessions. Emily knows this of course, but Sirius left the other half of his gold to you and your brother, Mel. As well as the rest of his belongings, which you'll be able to use once you're of age."

It was obvious Leon was going to inherit stuff from Sirius, the man was eager to provide for his new family, he wanted to be there, make sure his son would never be left to his luck.

"The slightly problematic part of the legacy —"

"His godfather's dead?" Mr Dursley interrupted. "He's dead? His godfather?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore without further explanation. "Our problem is that Sirius also left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place. To the three of you."

"He's been left a house?" Mr Dursley questioned.

"He's not done talking," Mel snapped, Mr Dursley turned purple at her statement.

"You can keep using it as headquarters," said Harry. "I don't care. You can have it, I don't really want it."

"Me neither," Mel accepted. "I don't need it, nor I think my brother will want to use it once he's old enough."

"Brother?" Mrs Dursley asked in bewilderment.

"That is generous," said Dumbledore. "We have, however, vacated the building temporarily."

"Why?"

"Well, Black family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of 'Black.' Your brother should be the one to take it, but we can't be sure if the rules apply since Emily and Sirius decided to use her last name. While Sirius' will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pureblood."

"I bet there has," Harry lamented.

"Quite. And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry stood up in distress.

"No..."

"Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either. The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally, we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position."

"But how are you going to find out if we're allowed to own it?"

"Fortunately, there is a simple test."

"Will you get these ruddy things off us?" Mr Dursley yelled.

Harry looked around; all three of the Dursleys were cowering with their arms over their heads as their glasses bounced up and down on their skulls, their contents flying everywhere.

"Oh, I'm so sorry... But it would have been better manners to drink it, you know."

Mel left her glass on the coffee table and waited.

"You see," Dumbledore continued, "if you have indeed inherited the house, you have also inherited..."

There was a loud crack, and a house-elf appeared, with a snout for a nose, giant bat's ears, and enormous bloodshot eyes, crouching on the Dursleys' shag carpet and covered in grimy rags.  Aunt Petunia let out a hair-raising shriek; nothing this filthy had entered her house in living memory.

"Kreacher," said Dumbledore.

"Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't! Kreacher belongs to Miss Bellatrix, oh yes, Kreacher belongs to the Blacks, Kreacher wants his new mistress, Kreacher won't go to the brats and the Black bastard! Kreacher won't, won't, won't —"

"As you can see," said Dumbledore over the yelling, "Kreacher is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership."

"I don't care," said Harry with repulsion. "I don't want him."

"Won't, won't, won't, won't —"

"You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange? Bearing in mind that he has lived at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for the past year?"

"Won't, won't, won't, won't —"

"No," Mel replied, "we need him far from them."

"Give him an order," said Dumbledore. "If he has passed into your ownership, he will have to obey. If not, then we shall have to think of some other means of keeping him from his rightful mistress."

"Won't, won't, won't, WON'T !"

"Kreacher, shut up!" Harry demanded.

It looked for a moment as though Kreacher was going to choke. He grabbed his throat, his mouth still working furiously, his eyes bulging. After a few seconds of frantic gulping, he threw himself face forward onto the carpet (Aunt Petunia whimpered) and beat the floor with his hands and feet, giving himself over to a violent, but entirely silent, tantrum.

"Well, that simplifies matters," said Dumbledore brightly. "It seems that Sirius knew what he was doing. You three are the rightful owners of number twelve, Grimmauld Place and of Kreacher."

"Wonderful, I own a haunted mansion," Mel sat heavily on the armrest of Dumbledore's chair.

"Do we have to keep him with us?" Harry asked.

"Not if you don't want to. If I might make a suggestion, you could send him to Hogwarts to work in the kitchen there. In that way, the other house-elves could keep an eye on him."

"Yeah," said Harry, "yeah, let's do that. Er — Kreacher — I want you to go to Hogwarts and work in the kitchens there with the other house-elves."

"You're not allowed to leave your duties unless we ask you otherwise," Mel added.

Kreacher, who was now lying flat on his back with his arms and legs in the air, gave Harry one upside-down look of deepest loathing and, with another loud crack, vanished.

"Good. There is also the matter of the hippogriff, Buckbeak. Hagrid has been looking after him since Sirius died, but Buckbeak is yours now, so if you would prefer to make different arrangements —"

"No," said both of them, then Harry added, "He can stay with Hagrid. I think Buckbeak would prefer that."

"Hagrid will be delighted. He was thrilled to see Buckbeak again. Incidentally, we have decided, in the interests of Buckbeak's safety, to rechristen him 'Witherwings' for the time being, though I doubt that the Ministry would ever guess he is the hippogriff they once sentenced to death. Now, Harry, is your trunk packed?"

"Erm..." Harry blushed.

"Doubtful that I would turn up?" Dumbledore smiled.

"I'll just go and — er — finish off," said Harry, picking up his telescope and trainers.

"I'll help," Mel said.

It was the first time she'd ever been in his room. The only time she'd managed to look around was when they rescued him on the Ford Anglia. It was evident this was the only place in the house Harry was allowed to exist freely: A bit messy from running around and packing everything in a hurry, but she didn't mind it at all.

"Cozy," She teased.

"Shut it," He replied, hastily picking up his stuff. "I should've known... of course he wouldn't leave me..."

"You had your reasons to doubt," She shrugged, then added. "We both do..."

Harry stopped and looked at her, but she wasn't in the mood to talk. Mel helped him pack and soon enough everything was in place, she grabbed Hedwig's cage and smiled at the creature.

"Hi there..." She looked back at him. "I'll never forget the look on your uncle's face when we arrived, he looked so frightened!"

"I'm glad I don't have to stay," He picked up his stuff and guided her out. "Because he would murder me if I did..."

Mel snorted, following him to the hall. However, Dumbledore hadn't moved.

"Professor?" Harry spoke. "I'm ready now."

"Good. Just one last thing, then... As you will no doubt be aware, Harry comes of age in a year's time —"

"No," said Mrs Dursley.

"I'm sorry?" said Dumbledore.

"No, he doesn't. He's a month younger than Dudley, and Dudders doesn't turn eighteen until the year after next."

"Ah," He smiled, "but in the Wizarding world, we come of age at seventeen."

"Preposterous," mumbled Vernon.

"Now, as you already know, the wizard called Lord Voldemort has returned to this country. The Wizarding community is currently in a state of open warfare. Harry, whom Lord Voldemort has already attempted to kill on a number of occasions, is in even greater danger now than the day when I left him upon your doorstep fifteen years ago, with a letter explaining about his parents' murder and expressing the hope that you would care for him as though he were your own."

Dumbledore's air changed, and although it wasn't obvious, he was once again emanating power, now more than ever he looked like a man no one should try to upset.

"You did not do as I asked. You have never treated Harry as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and often cruelty at your hands. I'm thankful Emily agreed to move in next door all those years ago and relieved a bit of Harry's misery. The best that can be said is that he has at least escaped the appalling damage you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy sitting between you."

"Us — mistreat Dudders? What d'you — ?"

"The magic I evoked fifteen years ago means that Harry has powerful protection while he can still call this house 'home.' However miserable he has been here, however unwelcome, however badly treated, you have at least, grudgingly, allowed him houseroom. This magic will cease to operate the moment that Harry turns seventeen; in other words, at the moment he becomes a man. I ask only this: that you allow Harry to return, once more, to this house, before his seventeenth birthday, which will ensure that the protection continues until that time."

Mel would've loved to add a few insults of her own, but she knew there was no use, they would never learn, would never feel guilty for treating Harry the way they did and to be honest, Dumbledore was right, Mel and her mother were his real family.

"Well... time for us to be off," said Dumbledore, standing up. "Until we meet again."

Mel looked at them one last time without saying anything, something in her felt different, there was a bittersweet emotion that kept her from enjoying herself, and at the same time stopped her from snapping.

"Bye," said Harry shortly.

"We do not want to be encumbered by these just now," Dumbledore said, pulling out his wand and pointing it towards the boy's trunk and owl. "I shall send them to the Burrow to await us there. However, I would like you to bring your Invisibility Cloak... just in case. And now, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."

Erick was waiting patiently against the front of her mother's car. His backpack was hanging from one shoulder, and when he saw them he quickly approached.

"All good?"

"Yes, we just wanted to chat a moment before leaving."

"Chat?" Erick raised a brow, he knew the Dursleys weren't friendly people.

"We'll explain later. C'mon, time to go."

"We're not taking the car?"

"No," said Dumbledore. "It'll be faster if we use magic. Keep your wand at the ready."

"But I thought we're not allowed to use magic outside school, sir?" Harry asked.

"If there is an attack," said Dumbledore, "I give you and Mel permission to use any counter jinx or curse that might occur to you. However, I do not think you need worry about being attacked tonight."

"Why not, sir?"

"You are with me... This will do."

He stopped at the end of the street.

"You have not, of course, passed your Apparition Test," he said.

"No," said Harry. "I thought you had to be seventeen?"

"You do," said Dumbledore. "So you will need to hold on to my arm very tightly. My left, if you don't mind — as you have noticed, my wand arm is a little fragile at the moment."

Erick looked down briefly at his hand and paled.

"Professor, I passed my apparition test last month, I can take Mel so you don't tire yourself out."

The idea of Dumbledore 'tiring himself out' was laughable, but Mel didn't want Erick to feel stupid, and it appeared that Dumbledore was of the same mind.

"Very well, Mr Flint, if it's not much trouble..."

"It's not."

"You know where to go."

Erick offered his arm to her.

"Ready?"

"Like we have a choice," She groaned, firmly holding onto him.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

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[roselen-mylady]

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part eight

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occurred she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

After the rather unsuccessful trial, Y/n asked Nat to help her find the showers, figuring the routine act of showering couldn't hurt in easing her busy mind. Y/n dropped the bag off in a room Nat told her was free to use and once grabbing a new set of clothes, they headed off making friendly chatter as they went. But Nat was quieter than usual, an unconscious frown settling in her lips. 

"Wow, if I had known the showers here were so nice I wouldn't have insisted on going home after training." Y/n marveled at the spotless shower room, ogling at the appeasing design. 

Nat let herself be removed from her thoughts, a small smile escaping as she stepped further into the room. Like most gym showers they were separated by small stalls, a clouded door cutting off the occupant from view. It was well lit and simplistic, the only noticeable decoration outside of the marbled tiles being the Avengers logo. 

"Yeah, the showers are pretty nice. There’s towels and toiletries in any of those cabinets over there.” Nat explained, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the row of neat and out of the way cabinets. Y/n nodded quietly, looking around as Nat moved to sit on one of the benches in the center of the room. 

Y/n tried to ignore the tension that seemed to build around Nat. Her eyes focused on the floor not even noticing as Y/n walked past her making her way to the cabinet. A familiar sense of worry crept into her bones as she shot another glance at Nat. 

Even the towels were pleasing to the eye, all stacked in beautiful rolls on the shelf. Y/n grabbed one, pondering if being one of the heroes was really such a bad thing. A painful feeling bubbled in her chest at the thought and she shut the cabinet with a silent exhale. The responsibilities that came with being a hero certainly weren't worth nice towels. But maybe her friends were. 

"You know in Steve's defense, he tried to tell them to wait for you." Nat vouched, looking up from her hands as Y/n moved to the showers. Y/n scoffed a little, relieved that Nat was talking again. She switched on the water, grateful for the sound it created to fill the silence between their statements. 

"Yeah, well, for Steve that was a pathetic attempt. He could talk someone into robbing a bank if he wanted to, you know." Y/n replied, sending Nat a jesting look. She received a half hearted laugh from Nat as the door closed behind her. 

She tugged off her clothes letting them pile onto the floor before tossing them onto the bench next to her clean set. Both were silent for a moment or two as Y/n stepped into the water, telling herself she was only a little jealous of the water pressure. The warmth that flushed against her skin was soothing and a soft breath slipped past her lips as she allowed herself to relax. 

However, her relief didn't last much longer than a couple of fleeting seconds before Nat spoke up again, her tone establishing a more serious mood. "Why do you still belittle yourself?" Her voice rang out clear as a bell, making sure Y/n couldn't pretend she didn't hear. 

Y/n's bare shoulders slumped and she inhaled deeply, pushing forward her palms to the falling water. Apparently her past hadn't been as concealed as she hoped. 

"What do you mean?" Y/n questioned, trying her best to keep an innocent feel to her words. But Nat wasn't having any of her games. 

"Your whole, 'I'm just a psychiatrist' thing. I'm surprised Steve hasn't figured out that it's not true." Nat remarked. Y/n knew it was an accusation but the way in which Nat spoke was calm like she was making an observation. 

"He hasn't had reason to suspect otherwise. I thought the same about you but I was wrong, I guess." Y/n confessed, any defensiveness toward being exposed washing away with the sweat on her body. It was only a matter of time before one of the Avengers found out and she was glad it was just Nat. 

A strained laugh echoed through the room and Y/n could practically see Nat's offended expression. "I used to be a spy and assassin, you really think I didn't find out everything about you when Steve brought you here the first time?" She questioned. Y/n hummed in response, grabbing the shampoo bottle next to her towel. 

"I was going to tell Steve too but, ever the gentleman, he wanted to respect your privacy." Nat explained. She shifted her legs, letting them cross as her eyes landed on the signature 'A' on the wall. 

"And you didn't?"

Nat dropped her gaze to her folded hands, picking at her fingers more out of habit than distress. "I couldn't. When you started to come around, we were receiving the backlash of the snap. There were hundreds more death threats than ever before, which I didn't even think was possible. I couldn't take the chance of Steve getting hurt because he's too trusting." 

Y/n remained silent, understanding Nat's actions. Though it irked her that the secret of her history was no longer her own, she reasoned with her irrational side to let it go. 

"Imagine my surprise when I found out you'd actually been scouted by S.H.I.E.L.D for years." Nat continued. The slick feeling lingered in Y/n's hair as she struggled to get the conditioner to wash out, her focus deviating from the routine toward Nat. 

"Why did you never accept? They'd been hunting you down since you were 13." The question sounded desperate and hurt as if the refusal was directed at Nat herself.  

Y/n sighed wringing out her hair and shutting off the water. "You don't know everything." She mumbled. "I did accept." She tucked the towel around herself before stepping out, meeting Nat's confused gaze. "S.H.I.E.L.D had been trying to get me to join since they had found out about me and once I was 14, I ran away and joined." She continued. 

A darkness settled in her eyes and she directed her eyes away from Nat, instead glaring at the floor. "Why didn't you stay?" Nat asked, her voice more tender once noticing the pain in Y/n's expression. 

"I realized S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't what I thought it was." A sick feeling settled in Nat's core as she quickly put a timeline together. 

HYDRA. 

Nat stayed silent even as Y/n moved to sit next to her. "Look, I'm sorry for not telling you. Believe it or not I have trust issues too. But by the time I got to know you guys, I thought telling you the truth would do more harm than good." Y/n admitted, lifting her eyes to meet Nat's. 

"It's okay." Nat offered her support, glancing over at Y/n. The brisk air nipped at her damp skin making her almost shiver when droplets fell from her hair and ran down her back. "I just wish you'd stop pretending you don't belong here." 

"I don't belong here." Y/n fought, her brows furrowing in frustration. "I'm not a hero. I'm not an Avenger. Everything I said back there was true." She insisted, trying to cling to the life she'd created for herself. 

"But you worked for S.H.I.E.L.D." Nat tried to emphasize as though it would change Y/n's mind. She shook her head looking away from Nat. She should've never stayed. 

"I don't want to talk about it, Nat." Y/n pleaded. The desperation in her tone overpowered any need to question further and Nat nodded, putting a gentle hand on her friend's forearm. 

"Alright, we don't have to talk about it." Her words trailed on and Y/n dreaded what she sensed Nat wanted to say. "But you have to tell Steve. The longer you wait, the more it'll hurt him." She warned.

Y/n dragged herself up to her feet offering a reluctant nod. She knew telling Steve would either change nothing or everything about their relationship and she feared the moment when she would have to find out which. 

"I will. But you can't say anything to him about this until I do. This stays between us." Y/n urged. Nat gave a small nod of agreement but Y/n could tell she would go back on her word if it meant keeping Steve safe. 

Though it hurt a little that Nat believed she'd hurt Steve, she understood her weariness. Her past had been the one thing Y/n had protected for so long and Nat wasn't sure how she would react to having to share it. But what Nat didn't know was that Steve and her came first to Y/n even before herself. 

"So, what exactly did they recruit you for? It didn't say in the report." Nat asked cautiously, trying to ease some of the tension between them. Y/n felt a hint of a smile creep onto her face, figuring Fury must've had some kind of contingency plan to protect her even after his death. 

"Well, I'm kind of a certified genius." Y/n answered, slightly amused by her explanation and the look of surprise it earned. "Graduated early and stayed at SHIELD for a year as their personal genius." Y/n elaborated looking back at Nat with an offended gawk. "What did you think I was recruited for?"

"I'm not sure." Nat replied, trying to apply this new piece of information to her memories with Y/n. All this time she was a genius? It didn't seem real with some of the stupid things she'd done.

"After my time with S.H.I.E.L.D I joined a high school for some normalcy until I transferred to college. Thankfully I'd be moved around enough classes to avoid suspicion. You must've seen all the classes on my record." Y/n explained, tugging on a t-shirt. 

Nat's brow furrowed and she scoffed, letting her shoulders slump in disbelief. "I thought you were just indecisive." Nat let out a breathless laugh. Y/n chuckled, pulling her jeans up and opening the door. Bringing her belongings out with her, she sat next to Nat to slip on her shoes. 

"Maybe that played into it. Everything was too easy for me but psychology kept my attention." Y/n turned to Nat, studying her thoughtful gaze. "Come on, I'm sure Steve is looking for us." She nudged her friend's arm, drawing her to her feet. 

"You know, for being ex-S.H.I.E.L.D, I thought you'd be easier to train." Nat teased earning a harsh glare from Y/n. 

"They wanted me for my brain, I only had to pass basic training." Y/n defended, jabbing her elbow into Nat's side. The woman laughed in reply, enjoying the pout that had settled on Y/n's lips. 

•••

As if the universe decided to have pity on them, Tony changed his mind, arriving at the compound with what he affectionately called a Time-Space GPS. Bruce seemed almost relieved now that Tony had joined, knowing the whole operation no longer rested on him. 

Or so he thought. Surely, he must've noticed Y/n adjusting his calculations and making suggestions that he would've never thought of. Maybe he just wanted to respect her secret? She gazed at said man with a suspicious glint in her eyes, not even noticing as Tony turned to her.  

"Hey, Doc. What are you doing here?" Tony asked suddenly, turning to Y/n's strangely familiar face. Her eyes flicked toward him, her face flushing in embarrassment as she readied herself for his disapproval. 

"I-I..." She stammered timidly under the gaze of her idol. Something in his eyes seemed knowing, a look that Nat gave her only minutes before and she began to crack with fear of her past being out in the open. It was out of character for her to be so anxious and Steve quickly stepped in sensing her unease.  

"She's with me." He said, his tone firm as Tony turned to him. Tony raised an eyebrow at this, confused by Steve's defensiveness. She was at risk being there but Steve didn't seem to care. 

Y/n had already gone this far with them and that made her a part of the team in his book. She may not have had superpowers or been in battles like they had but she was a hero for years by simply helping those their failure had hurt. She did what they had hoped to do but in the end never really did. She made the world better. 

"Alright…and since when did we bring civilians into this?" Tony argued. Y/n could hear a bit of concern in his tone and her brows furrowed wondering why on Earth he'd care if she got caught in the crossfire. She was a nobody to him.

"Since now." Steve fought. Tony sighed knowing fighting with Steve was pointless. He had spent years resenting the man and he didn't have the energy to fight him anymore. 

"Okay, awesome." Tony said sarcastically. Y/n watched as he held his hand next to his mouth leaning over to her. "Blink twice if you're being held here against your will." He whispered, loud enough for Steve to hear. 

Y/n's nerves dissipated and a soft smile came to her face as Steve frowned. She turned to Tony shaking her head, her suppressed laugh bringing his own smile forward. 

"I like you." She told him. He looked at her with an amused glimmer in his eye as he put an arm around her shoulders. He didn't know why but there was something familiar about her, a joy from his presence that only came from one that admired him. 

"Y'know what, I kinda like you too." He said gently, trying to figure out why he seemed to recognize the feeling. "Well, let's at least get you some kind of gear since you're gonna be stuck with us. Jeez, are we just gonna send her out there with a little clipboard? You guys are insane." Tony taunted, pulling himself away and turning a playful glare to Steve. 

"I wasn't planning on sending her into a fight." Steve tried to defend, not picking up on Tony's joke. Tony's mood changed with Steve's and he sighed, starting to lead Y/n off to the lab.  

"Yeah, well, I learned the hard way that anyone who's involved with us always ends up in the fight." Tony told him, not waiting around for a response. Y/n gave Steve a tender look as she followed Tony, her heart aching at the sight of Steve's guilty expression. As much as he hated to admit it Tony wasn't wrong. 

Was he doing the right thing? 

"What school did you go to?" Tony asked suddenly. She opened her mouth to question why he was asking but he beat her to it with a short shrug. "I saw the work you did. Lemme guess, some kind of tech school?" He inferred. 

She nodded slowly, trying to hide the stupid grin on her face at his subtle compliment. If only he'd known. They entered the lab and she stopped walking as Tony paced forward, trying to find some bracelets like Natasha had once used. 

"Midtown. I was really interested in making new technology." She explained. The mention of the school made him pause an intense feeling of grief washing over him as Peter came to his mind. He sighed trying to force the memories away. He was doing this for Peter and everyone else. 

"Why'd you stop?" He asked. Y/n shook her head, coming to stand next to the table to his right. 

"I guess other opportunities came around." She replied hoping he wouldn't question further. "But after that didn't pan out I went to college, learned anything and everything I could. I wanted to do it all and couldn't stick to one topic. Don't get me wrong, I still love science, hell, I even have the old arc reactor and repulsors I made back in the day. Just psychology was the only thing that could meet my ambition." She sighed, leaning against the table. 

Tony was silent for a moment realizing why he took such a liking to her. She reminded him of Peter. He sighed knowing he was going to do something stupid as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small earpiece. 

"Were they any good?" He asked. She laughed giving a little nod as she thought of all the cuts and bruises she got from using them. 

"Well, I could fly a few yards in the air and I'm sure those poor soda cans had seen better days but they weren't exactly Iron Man quality." She confessed. He nodded, putting out his hand to her. Her eyes fell on the piece, her brow creasing in confusion. 

"Come on, before I change my mind." He urged. She quickly took it, studying the earpiece as he looked away. Tony never really had handled touching moments like those well. It had something to do with his own self hatred, he just couldn't understand why someone would look up to him. 

"What is it?" She asked curiously, tracing over the small button behind the ear hook. He moved to lean against the table beside her, using his finger to point out the button. 

"Uh, a gift for my wife but she didn't much care for the color. It's just a prototype anyways but it should work the same. Put it on and press that." He instructed watching as she pushed off the table and took a couple steps in front of him. She slipped on the earpiece, pressing the button like he told her. 

Bits of metal began to expand from the piece and it flushed over her body covering her from head to toe. A display lit up in front of her and she gasped as a voice greeted her, introducing itself as F.R.I.D.A.Y and welcoming Y/n. She quickly retracted the helmet staring at Tony with wide eyes, completely speechless. He smirked, trying not to show how entertained he was by her awestruck expression. 

"I don't understand…" Y/n said quietly. She was overjoyed to be given a suit, something she had spent most of her teenage years trying to recreate, by her hero nonetheless. But also confused. Why would he give her something so valuable? 

"How old are you?" Tony asked. Y/n's mouth hung open trying to find the relevance of the question before looking away. 

"24, almost 25." She answered slowly. Tony nodded. She was still so young yet so smart for someone who hadn't even reached thirty. Yet, she still had the ignorance that came with innocence. She hadn't seen what most of those on the team had and he wished to protect that like he had intended for Morgan. 

"I lost a kid because of Thanos. Though it wasn't just Thanos's fault I guess, we were too busy fighting one another to get our heads out of our asses and pay attention to the real threat." He crossed his arms, staring at the wall. 

"I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how that must've felt." She said. He offered her a half hearted chuckle looking up at her. 

"You really are a psychiatrist." He said, trying to mask the sorrow that filled his heart and gaze. But Y/n had seen enough people to know exactly what diverting looked like. Tony had been right about her not experiencing horrible things and she knew she'd never understand what they felt. The only trauma she'd experienced was the loss of her family but it was nothing compared to half the universe's blood on your hands. 

But while she didn't experience it first hand, she did through the people she'd become close to. She saw not only every tragedy that affected them but every reaction to it. She saw the brightest in them but also the dark that no one should ever have to see. She saw the aftermath of what they did and had experienced. And in that way she was just as wise.  

"He would've been around your age. He was like you, bright and hopeful. He was going to be better than me, better than any of us." Tony said softly and Y/n listened carefully. It was strange seeing the man that once appeared godlike in her eyes to have flaws or breakdowns for that matter but she had to remind herself he was human too. 

"Well, maybe after all of this, you can give him this suit instead." She suggested. He looked up to her, his expression insecure but his eyes grateful as he chuckled. 

"Keep it. Black never really was his style anyways." Tony remarked. Y/n smiled and he smiled back, realizing just how much he had changed her life by doing that. He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact before pushing off the table and walking off. 

"Well, we better get to work. I promised the old soulmate I'd be back for dinner." He joked. Y/n nodded watching as he went before turning back to the suit. 

It shaped to her frame as if it was fitted for her which was strange for a metal suit. Judging by the way it had moved she figured it had been nanotech, similar to the suit Tony had worn in the New York fight in 2018. It was surprisingly easy to maneuver in and she instantly figured out the concept of the display, getting acquainted with the A.I. F.R.I.D.A.Y. 

She didn't understand why Tony's wife wouldn't just adore the suit even though it was a prototype. The color was amazingly detailed, mostly black with silver accents in the grooves of the metal. She supposed having Tony Stark as a husband meant being able to make specific requests as to high tech.  

Y/n grinned idiotically, letting the suit retract back into the earpiece before going out to meet the others. 

Could she be one of them? 

•••

"That's Thor?" Y/n whispered harshly to Rhodey as the hobo looking man sipped his beer. His prominent beer gut moved with him and his sunglasses slipped down the bridge of his nose as Y/n stared in distaste.  

"Supposed to be." Rhodey answered shortly. Y/n remembered Thor being the object of every woman's fantasies but the years had not been kind to him and she figured it was no longer the case. 

"I'm gonna go check in with Big Guy. Ask Tony how long this thing's gonna take." Rhodey announced, jerking his thumb back to the time machine behind them. Y/n nodded absently, catching sight of Tony as Rhodey walked away. 

"Hey, Tony! I told Rocket that we need to add more paneling the exterior of this thing or it's going to fall apart but he doesn't think so. You'd think fixing spacecraft and all he'd understand the importance of paneling!" She explained, shouting the last part back at Rocket with a glare. "But whatever." She sighed sarcastically, turning back to Tony with an annoyed expression

Tony came toward her, carrying a bit of tubing over his shoulder as he carefully walked around Thor. He rolled his eyes at both him and her statement, calling over to Rocket. 

"What's the thickness of that exterior?" He questioned. Rocket looked at him from his hanging position giving a nonchalant shrug. 

"Quarter inch. Your girl over here is just paranoid." Rocket argued, making Y/n cross her arms. Tony shook his head, walking over to him and setting down the tubing. 

"You might wanna listen to her, Ratchet. That's like half an inch short of what we need." Tony said. Y/n hummed in agreement, not caring about the annoyed look she earned from the angry raccoon. 

"It's Rocket. Take it easy, you two aren't the only geniuses on Earth." Rocket fought before returning to his task. Tony scoffed, turning to look at Y/n whose face was flushed at the comment. 

"Hey, Couch Doctor. You want me to help you start on the paneling?" He questioned. She waved her hand dismissively, looking around for the metal sheets they would need. 

"Nah, it's ok. I'll handle it. I was the one that mentioned it anyways." She volunteered, tugging off her Midtown sweatshirt and tossing it over a stack of materials they'd been using. Her arms were now exposed in the tank top she wore, allowing Tony to catch sight of her countdown. 

"Well, that's interesting." He commented. Y/n followed his gaze to her wrist. Her face flushed from uncovering her rare countdown but she tried to brush it off but grabbing some welding tools. Thankfully, it was only them and the raccoon, making her relax slightly.

"Yeah, wish I could explain it but I'm at a loss." She mumbled. Tony couldn't bring his gaze from her wrist as she gathered the welding unit and protective gear. He tried not to make it obvious while he calculated the numbers but Y/n caught his stare giving him a quizzical look. 

"That's almost 90 years ago. Isn't that around Cap's time?" He asked. Y/n paused, her gaze dropping to her countdown. She'd made her own calculations before, piecing together that her countdown would put her 88 years in the future.

However, she'd never thought about it the opposite way. There was no reason to.

Tony felt a little at fault for her sorrow and he quickly changed the subject, trying to take her mind off it. 

"I mean there can't be too many hundred year-old men in the world." He mumbled. She shook away the thought, doing her best to disregard any theroies. It made more sense that her countdown was looking into the future rather than the past, as odd as that sounded.

Trying hard to force away the thought of her soulmate, she began welding some of the plating onto the machine. It was a difficult subject for her yet it had been brought up twice in the matter of a day. 

"So, I gave you a suit. Now I gotta give you a name." He announced suddenly. She stopped her hand lifting the welding helmet to rest atop her head. 

"A name?" She repeated, raising a brow. He nodded, putting out his hands in a playful gesture. 

"Yeah, I mean a hero name. Y'know like Iron Man or Captain America, the whole deal." He explained quickly. She was reluctant but figured a simple name couldn't hurt and she finally smiled looking over at him. 

"What'd you have in mind?" She asked him, watching as he stared at the ground thoughtfully. 

"Um, Iron Girl?" He suggested. 

"Wow, I could tell you put a lot of thought into that." Y/n mused. He chuckled coming to stand next to her, leaning against the machine. 

"You're right that's a little sexist. Uh, Iron Star?" He tried. Y/n provided a small shrug in response, reaching up to pull down the welding helmet. 

"I think I'll just stick with Y/n." She laughed. He groaned letting his hands fall against his thighs. 

"Come on, Iron Star's pretty cool." He argued, rather proud of his brainstorming. Y/n shook her head, sending him an amused glance through the visor. 

"If you say so, Stark."

•••

"Do you think it'll work?" Nat questioned gently. Y/n leaned further into the couch under Nat's intent stare, sipping the water bottle she'd been given. 

"Well, with Tony's help I think we have a chance. His algorithm sure as hell makes more sense than mine." Y/n sighed. Sweat had collected on her brow and she wiped at it with the back of her hand as she closed her eyes. 

She silently wondered how she missed something like that before. Asking about soulmates was an unspoken ban. It was risky after the snap just as risky as asking about someone's family. She'd never thought to ask because Y/n kept it covered and Nat had just assumed she'd lost her soulmate to the snap. 

They'd been working for hours and Y/n requested a break, not sure how much longer she could handle Tony and Rocket bickering over loud music. Nat had come to keep her company but also out of her own curiosity about Y/n's past. From Y/n's position she got a clear few of her countdown something she'd realized she had never seen before. Had her numbers always been so odd? 

Nat shifted uncomfortably on the couch opposite to Y/n, thinking about all those who had disappeared that fateful day. She'd been there when they all vanished and she vividly remembered the dread that set in after watching such a horrific display.

Suddenly, Steve's need for Y/n made perfect sense to her. 

The way Steve's fingers numbly fell into the pile that was once his lifelong friend. The words of shock that slipped through his lips in the form of a whisper. Collapsing onto the ground with the most devastated expression she had ever seen. 

He lost Bucky and so many of his other friends. His new family. He'd lost everything  But he had Y/n. 

And now that he had someone left to fight for he couldn't let her go. Not with hope hanging in the air. 

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." Nat looked up, forcing a smile as Y/n took another sip of her water. 

"Just thinking about what's going to happen when we get everyone back." She lied. Y/n swallowed quickly, pointing a playful finger at Nat. 

"I don't know about you but I'm going to take a nap as soon as this is over. Tony's horrible sleeping schedule is rubbing off on me." Y/n laughed. Nat's smile became more genuine as she watched Y/n tap her earpiece letting just the helmet unfold around her head. 

"But first I gotta fix up these protocols a bit. I have no idea what 'Last Ditch Effort Protocol' entails but I really don't wanna find out." Y/n's voice came out sort of muffled and mechanical like Tony's was as Iron Man. 

"Probably something flamboyant." Nat replied. Y/n nodded, her hands swiping at the air before her nonchalantly. 

"Yeah, no one's quite as extra as Tony Stark."

Part nine 

Taglist

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[aros001]

Going in blind: Watching season 4 for the first time. Random thoughts.

I never said anything about it before but I love Shadow Weaver's DCAU Batman eyes. They're so expressive.

Episode 1: Okay...I wasn't expecting Catra to do that. I mean, it makes sense. If she has leverage over Hordak then she's basically in charge of the Horde and that's what she's wanted (or at least believes she wants) since episode 1. It's an aspect that made her a good antagonist, that she's not blind to the evil of the Horde, she just doesn't care as long as she herself is secure. Which naturally begs the question, when the rebellion and the princesses are crushed, when the Horde is on top, when Adora is dead, when Catra finally has everything she's ever wanted...will she actually finally be happy? Somehow, I have my doubts.

I definitely feel for Glimmer in this. When you go through as big a loss as she did you need to be able to feel and vent if you're ever going to get through it. It doesn't have to be right away but everyone doing everything in their power to avoid the topic entirely can make you feel like you're going crazy. It'a especially bad for her since it unintentionally makes it feel like everyone is acting like it doesn't matter that Angela is gone when it clearly means everything to Glimmer.

Episode 2: I actually had a potted cactus plant once. Accidentally forgot about it and left it outside for an entire winter. Once the snow was gone the cactus looked like it had melted.

I kind of want to see what an interaction between Double Trouble and Clayface from the Harley Quinn animated series would look like. I'm guess Catra was just testing how good Double Trouble was as a doppelganger because it doesn't seem like she did anything while Adora was being distracted, though I suppose that could be a reveal in a later episode.

Not much to say except that I love how buff Huntara is while still clearly being a woman. Like, women can have a variety of different body types, as this series and Steven Universe show, and Huntara's build isn't just, like, Bow's body with lipstick and ponytail and the animators calling it a day. No, she looks like a freakin' jacked adult woman.

Episode 3: I didn't figure out the Flutterina = Double Trouble twist until a minute before it was revealed, so good job there. Before that I was wondering if Flutterina was some fan's original character where they won some contest where their OC got to be in the show for an episode. She was giving off some weird self-insert vibes. That twist made it all work though. It's honestly not a bad plan. Shapeshifters haven't really been a thing in the series before now so there's no reason to suspect it. Even if they did they'd probably be expecting it by way of magic or technology, while Double Trouble's seems to be a natural ability.

I like that even though Bow is definitely the goofier one of the trio he is still consistently shown as competent. That's never in question. He was very heroic and reassuring to the villagers this episode. I get why those kids idolize him so much.

Catra's having guilt over what she did with the portal and to Entrapta and her response is basically to just double-down. She doesn't know any other way to be. Not going to lie, I am kind of hoping we get another moment in the show where Adora just completely overwhelms Catra with the sheer power of She-Ra. I'm not saying like brutalize her or anything but just something where Catra is made to realize just how powerful Adora is and that she could just destroy Catra if she had a mind to do so.

Episode 4: Well, I was saying I wanted Adora to do it but I guess I don't mind Glimmer being the one to get some good shots in on Catra. Like I predicted, Shadow Weaver's moving in to become her teacher like she was with her father. Honestly I like that that was more Adora's problem than Glimmer using her as bait, which she seemed to get over pretty quick. Yeah, it was kind of a heartless thing to do but it was an understandable tactic and she clearly outright told Adora that she did it and why afterwards, which at least means she's still being honest.

It occurs to me that Glimmer and Catra may be the ones running parallel right now. Both are basically leading their respective sides of the war. They both have lost someone very important to them. And both are trusting someone they probably shouldn't. Both even have outfits that've been updated in the intro. The difference is Glimmer's just trying to deal with a bad situation while Catra's is entirely self-inflicted.

Minor thing but I like Glimmer's new outfit this season. I'm sure this is the intention but it makes her look older and more mature. A little more muscular in some shots too.

Episode 5: Heart of Etheria project. No idea what that is but assumedly whoever's a part of it doesn't like Light Hope and Mara being friends. Sounds like it's very much interested in She-Ra being just a warrior, and perhaps a tool, for the greater good. It does make me wonder though how much Light Hope remember from when she was rebooting. Even if she deleted the Mara memory she could potentially still have the memory of her and Adora watching the Mara memory, as well as Adora asking to be her friend.

Episode 6: Yep. Scorpia; definitely favorite supporting character. There is something kind of funny about her whole "Scorpions are loyal" line when you remember the story about the Frog and the Scorpion, where it stings the frog despite it meaning death for itself as well simply because that is its nature. But finally we're having someone go save Entrapta, and I can only assume at some point Scorpia's going to access the power of the Black Garnet.

The parallels between Catra and Hordak are definitely at their max here with that speech of hers to him. She's basically trying to convince herself that she doesn't need anyone, the timing of which is appropriate since she just drove away Scorpia and now truly doesn't have anyone. Not that I blame Scorpia, obviously. Like Adora before her, however good you believe someone can be and that you can help them, at some point you just have to cut the toxic people out of your life. You have the right to be happy too.

And man, Bow is just the best. He saw something was wrong between Adora and Glimmer and defused the situation like (snap) that, pushing them to talk like any sane person would.

Episode 7: I'm sure it is just because I've seen way too many TV shows and movies (both animated and live action) that don't do it but it is just such a relief to have a show where the characters just TALK and LISTEN to each other. It doesn't solve all their issues but they're at least not being stupid and freakin' petty. It helps the drama feel a lot less forced and contrived.

Episode 8: A little bit of amusement in Bow thinking at first that Glimmer and Adora didn't even notice he was gone despite them coming to his rescue very shortly afterwards, given Catra is only now realizing Scorpia has left and assumedly she did so a while ago. Bow and Sea Hawk hadn't been gone for that long so it's not unreasonable Glimmer and Adora wouldn't be worried about their absence (Bow was literally talking about "me time" when they last saw him), while Catra is only noticing Scorpia's absence now and it was because she wanted something. Like Scorpia said, she's a bad friend.

Kind of ironic given that a lot of Catra's issues are the direct result of Shadow Weaver giving her very little love growing up but it does seem this tough love is probably what'll get through to Catra the best. She might finally stop making bad decisions and lashing out if she's forced to live with the consequences of them, like Adora told her last season.

Glimmer gets a bit of slack from me since she suffered through a huge loss, that being her mother, and then was immediately thrown into being queen right after. It'd be hard for anyone to be 100% on their game and well-adjusted in a situation like that, and I buy that she was on some level resentful of Adora for coming back instead of her mother, even if unintentionally so. What definitely helps is that Glimmer very clearly and immediately regretted what she said to Adora. Like Catra she's lashing out but unlike Catra Glimmer recognizes some of the damage she's doing and knows, at least in this case, that she went too far.

Episode 9: Now that I can see the design in color I definitely prefer Mara's She-Ra with pants to Adora's She-Ra with shorts. Honestly, while the differences are pretty minor, I do think Mara's She-Ra design is overall a lot better than Adora's. Sharper shoulder guards. Bigger cape (especially the cape, I love capes). I don't know, there's just a lot that clicks with it and I wouldn't mind Adora getting a similar outfit later.

Madam Razz definitely had a Yoda feel this episode. I was very much expecting her to start wacking Mara with a stick over the sugar like Yoda did with R2. Though while that was Yoda acting crazy, for Razz it's because she experiences time out of order, and I don't think I've ever seen that concept taken to this extent, or at least done this way before. There are characters like River Song from Doctor Who, Professor Paradox from Ben 10, or even the Reverse-Flash who interact with other characters in time out of order but those characters are still on a linear path from their own perspective, even when travelling through time. Razz is just bouncing around her own timeline, seemingly not even any real reason or cause to it like Subaru from Re:Zero. Clearly she's not just remembering things oddly because her talk about things of the present are heard by people in the past and have an effect. I wonder if maybe the reason why is because Razz was at ground zero of Mara's actions and this is a side-effect of pulling Etheria away from the rest of the universe.

Bringing more Star Wars into this, it basically sounds like the Heart of Etheria project has turned Etheria into a magic Starkiller Base; storing power that'll be unleashed to destroy whole planets. And jeez, I think this was the first time I really felt creeped out by Light Hope when she was talking to Mara.

I'm looking forward to seeing what it means that the First Ones only made the sword and that Etheria made She-Ra. If that's the case, why is only the sword able to bring out the She-Ra form? Is it like MCU Thor's hammer and the weapon was just meant to help him control the power he already had? Or is what we think is She-Ra not actually She-Ra and that form that Adora and Mara take is just a stand-in for the real thing?

Episode 10: It didn't even occur to me until now but Double Trouble's capture is another blow to Catra's circle of "friends" too. They were at least able to make her laugh. One less person for her to talk to and just...really just distract her from her thoughts.

It's a good dilemma this episode presents about what to do with the Heart of Etheria. The safest and probably best option is to just dismantle it, like Adora and Bow want, since it could easily lead to the destruction of the entire planet if it goes off. Not the mention there's so little they know about it and what it was intended for and the one person who can potentially tell them, Light Hope, they were warned not to trust. But it's not hard to understand where Glimmer is coming from in wanting to use that power to fight the Horde. They're already losing the war and now she knows Hordak Prime and his FAR more powerful forces are on the way. Tapping into the Heart is a huge risk but she's not seeing any other paths for the rebels to win. It's a really good dilemma, with good arguments presented from both sides, and I buy this widening the schism between Adora and Glimmer.

Episode 11: I have mixed feelings on King Micah still being alive. On the one hand there's a lot of good potential interactions we can now have with him, primarily between Glimmer and Shadow Weaver, and he is a fun character. But on the other I can't help but wonder if this kind of lessens the impact of what Angela gave up to overcome the false reality. Part of what made it so emotional was that she had to accept the person she loved was dead and not coming back...except now we see that he wasn't dead and now he is coming back. Yeah, their family lost out on years together and that does still carry some emotional weight but I was already also half-expecting Angela to come back later in the series because she's stuck between dimensions, meaning there's a chance she could still be alive. If both Glimmer's parents come back then that really feels like it takes a lot of weight out of her story. But I guess we'll see what happens.

Also, why did the Horde exile him to Beast Island? Why not just kill him?!

Episode 12: So the Horde exiles Micah to Beast Island instead of killing him. The First Ones protect their secrets by sending their bad tech to Beast Island. Does no one know how to just destroy things in this world?

Ohhh, I am so looking forward to next episode. While it's debatable whether Glimmer should be going through with her plan she is at least being smart with how she's going about it. Double Trouble was being paid by Catra to work for the Horde, not out of any sense of loyalty. Glimmer has the resources of Bright Moon at her disposal so it's reasonable she could pay them more to switch sides. Double Trouble was very good at sabotaging even a group as tight-nit as the heroes, so Hordak and Catra are probably easy pickings with all their issues.

Episode 13: ....WELL THAT AIN'T GOOD!

I'll admit, I had a little bit of an unintended laugh. After all we've heard about Horde Prime, like this shadowy all-powerful monster, I wasn't expecting the fabulous flowing dreadlocks and smoothness. Credit where it's due, man has charisma and charm, which goes a long way in helping your big evil world conqueror not be a very flat character, because it's doubtful he's going to have the same kind of sympathetic motivation as Hordak or complexity as Catra to keep him elevated.

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Double Trouble kicking at Catra while she's down. Adora and Scorpia were honest but they never wanted to hurt Catra. Not so much with Double Trouble and they just shove reality into her face. Everyone leaves Catra because of Catra. She's the common factor. It's her fault and no one else's. Again, I don't know for certain if Adora and Catra get together at the end (Catra would have a LOT to make amends for regardless) but Double Trouble was definitely implying Catra had feelings for her with the way they put Catra's hand on "Adora's" cheek while talking about how she left her.

I like that we see Glimmer's plan actually working at first. The princesses get a massive power boost and decimate the Horde forces. But the minute it starts going wrong she immediately admits Adora was right and she tries to stop the energy flow. I imagine having her there with Catra was intentional by the writers. Despite some parallels, Glimmer can actually accept her failures and work to try and fix things. Unlike Catra, she didn't blame Adora for things going wrong.

So the sword allows the First Ones to control She-Ra and the energy she'd be absorbing from the planet. Assumedly that means there are at least some parts to She-Ra that have nothing to do with the First Ones and thus maybe Adora can still use some of those powers without the sword.

Season 4 verdict: Yeah, the show keeps getting better, though I will admit last season's finale had me more emotional, but that's a bit of an unfair comparison given everything that happened in that finale vs. this one. This is definitely the series hitting its darkest hour, where it feels like EVERYONE lost. Not just the rebels but the Horde as well. The sword and Light Hope are gone and She-Ra (for now) along with them. Glimmer and Catra are basically prisoners. Hordak's probably going to have his personality stripped away. The Fright Zone is in ruins. The only one who's gained anything is Prime.

Really looking forward to what the final season has in store, especially since there seems to be the implication that Catra just saved Glimmer's life.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrincessesOfPower/comments/o1j5gk/going_in_blind_watching_season_4_for_the_first/

[zipp0flare]

Infection part 2

(This is the companion piece based on my first story about my Left 4 Dead Hunter character that I created YEARS ago when I first got into the series. Originally the character that this was based off of (my Smoker character) was SUPPOSED to die in the first part, but then I thought, “What IF, though??” And this bastard was born. I don’t regret this decision, as it has led to him being my favorite of the three infected (Smoker, Witch, Hunter). My Witch doesn’t have a story (might never get one, but I’ll still post my design of her. Again, these are from my deviantArt days, so not stolen if any of this looks familiar to the community)

Mal had no idea how he had gotten out alive... if this could count as that. He held his profusely bleeding side while he stumbled about the alley just outside rave, as he recalled what had happened just a few short minutes ago.

He had been worried about his friend, Luke, who looked a little worse for wear but kept insisting that he was alright to be out. Mal had grown suspicious when he heard about the bite his friend had suffered, but again Luke attempted to reassure him, as well as their friend Vince, that he was alright.

Everything had gone to hell when Luke passed out with blood leaking from his eyes. At that moment they both knew for sure that Luke had been infected with the Green flu, and was most likely dying from the infection. Vince had tried so hard to reassure all of them that everything would be okay, but Mal knew that his friend knew better. He had to admit, though, that when Luke had awoken, he was going to be okay. There had been a small inkling in his head telling himself that things were far from alright; that small thought was confirmed when Luke took on an almost animalistic behavior and lunged for the two of them.

Mal had been just barely able to move out of the way of 'Luke's attack, but Vince wasn't so lucky. With nails that had somehow quickly grown into almost claws, 'Luke' began to claw at Vice, quickly slicing right through and into skin. Determined not to lose another friend, Mal somehow managed to pull 'Luke' off of Vince, only for the thing to turn its attention to Mal and attack him instead. The first attack shredded his jacket and t-shirt like paper; the second hit skin, sending a searing pain through Mal's body. He tried to scream, tried to do something other than let this thing that was once Luke to continue to tear into him.

When he thought he couldn't take the pain much longer, that he was going to bleed out there on the floor, the weight on top of his body had disappeared. Mal somehow managed to use his forearms and elbows to prop himself up. He wished he hadn't when he saw 'Luke' beginning to shred Vince once more. The screaming, all the blood and gore, all of it was too much for Mal to take. Vince was past saving by now, and had even given up his struggles to get 'Luke' off of himself, and Mal knew that he couldn't do a thing either.

Mal believed that the only reason he was able to move at all was from a strong act of self preservation. He had managed to slowly sit up and shakily got to his feet. He froze when he had stumbled though; Mal feared that these small actions would have possibly alerted 'Luke' as to what he was doing. When he looked for the thing though, he saw that it had left Vince, who was now quickly bleeding out, for a fresh, new victim.

Mal knew he couldn't do anything for these people, and even if he tried it would be a sheer act of suicide. Instead, he stumbled away from the chaos and toward the fire exit. Mal found himself falling to his knees several times, each time sending a new wave of pain through his body, before he had finally made it outside.

Mal shook his head free of the gruesome memories, though that also caused his head to ache. He removed his hand from his side to stare at the crimson liquid that had leaked from there. Everywhere on his body hurt, and he was covered in massive cuts. His clothing was beyond shredded and hung loosely around his body. Mal questioned once more if this was futile, if he was going to die before he managed to get help.

Another thought soon occurred to him. He recalled Luke's story, of how he hadn't been around anyone infected, but his crazy neighbor had bit him earlier that morning. "Is that going to happen to me?" Mal asked as he looked down at himself once more. "Maybe... maybe I'm immune to this whole flu..." He said, trying to convince himself away from what could be his grim fate. If he had a choice between dying, or living as some mindless monster, he would chose the former in a heartbeat. He didn't want to turn into whatever Luke had become; He didn't want to attack and kill those he cared about, ripping them to bloody pieces.

Mal didn't have the time to continue to fret, as he soon found himself on his hands and knees again. He couldn't help crying out in pain, or the hacking coughs that came afterward. The taste of copper soaked onto his tongue and Mal spat out the blood. "So... this.." He hacked up more blood and continued to cough even further after that. "This is... how I'm going... going to die.." He didn't care anymore that each word felt like knives digging into his throat.

He continued to hold himself up with one hand while the other came up to his throat, meaning to rub it as if it would get rid of the pain, but stopped once he felt the massive swelling on the side of his neck. His hacking turned into gagging, and he felt as if he was choking on his own blood.

Mal was far from being a praying man, but he couldn't help but close his eyes and do so as he stood on his hands and knees, bleeding out in a dirty, darkened alley. "Please God... please.." He coughed some more and the swelling on the side of his throat seemed to grow. "Don't... don't let me.." He couldn't speak any further as his coughing continued to grow worse and worse, until he could hardly get a breath in before he continued to do so. 'Don't let me die here..'

When Mal tried to open his eyes, he could barely open one, the other feeling as if it had been sealed shut. His free hand moved from the giant swelling growth on his neck to his face, only to find the swelling there as well. Mal tried to pull off that stupid ski hat that he had worn that day, but found the act to be painful as it began to pull on the swelling on the left side of his face and most likely now underneath the cap.

Mal continued to hack, cough, choke and struggled for each breath. Finally he allowed himself to give up and fall to the ground, knowing he wouldn't make it out of this alive. It felt as if his tongue had joined in the act of choking him, and allowed it to fall out in some sad act to get just a little more air into his lungs. Mal vaguely noticed the swelling had spread to his arms, each one adding to the sickening color his body was beginning to take on, but he hardly cared anymore.

He allowed his mind to wander to his friends, both of whom were as good as gone. He thought of his family; how distraught his mother would be at the news of his death, crying that she had insisted for him to stay home that night. Mal was now wishing he had listened to her every word. He thought of his father, and wondered if the man would even care about his gruesome death.

He could hardly breathe anymore, and found each attempt of the act painful. Even so, Mal continued to endure the painful struggles, though, in some sad attempt to stay alive.

There was a sound behind Mal that brought him out of his stupor. A door had opened behind him, coupled with the low sound of growling. 'Dammit, it followed me... it's gonna finish its job and kill me here...' Mal wondered why he was even worried at this point; he was a dead man anyway.

The footsteps of the thing that Luke had become drew closer, until they stopped right next to Mal. He took a chance and looked up, an act that was almost impossible now, to see the thing staring down at him with a feral look.

"'ou.. 'ou did thith to me..." Mal managed to get out, though it was quite the difficult task between the coughs, gagging, and pain. He didn't receive a response as the thing simply stared down at him. It gave one last low growl before it took off, leaping between the sides of the two buildings around them, gaining altitude with each jump, until it managed to reach the side of the rooftop of the rave and pull itself up and out of view.

Part of Mal wished the thing had finished its job instead of leaving him here to bleed out in the alley. Mal was surprised he was even still alive at this point. He continued to hack and cough as he laid there. Once more he thought back to his friends, of how he already missed Vince, and how much he hated the thing Luke had become, that had taken the both of them away from Mal. He wanted that thing dead. He didn't want it to continue to run around and kill people in Luke's body.

Even as his vision faded, he still thought of that hatred, and how much he would hate himself if he was to become one of them.