#somewhere i know i won't be recognized by anyone & trust the friend i'm with to keep it secret.

[merrilark]

.

[harunayuuka2060]

Lucifer: Solomon, I believe that Diavolo has already given you a warning.

Solomon: I'm simply taking my friend back to our homeland.

Lucifer: What homeland? Devildom is their home now.

Solomon: Looks like you haven't received the news yet.

Solomon: I made a pact with this demon. They're mine.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: Why are you addressing MC like they're a stranger?

Solomon: *gives him a sad smile* My friend has become a stranger.

Solomon: No affection towards anyone. They will only blindly follow their master.

Solomon: This is... what my friend has become.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: Are you telling me-

Solomon: You made a mistake. MC will never exist anymore. And also, please set Barbatos free.

Solomon: Since he has no one to protect now. *walks past him with MC in his arms*

Lucifer: ...

Michael: How did it go, Luke?

Luke: ...It's finished.

Michael: *smiles* Well done, Luke. *patting his head*

Luke: ...

Michael: Anyway, I'll clean up everything for you. So take some rest.

Luke: You don't have to. MC has been taken care of.

Michael: What do you mean?

Luke: Father instructed to not leave anything.

Luke: I did what was told to me.

Michael: ...

Michael: Raphael, you won't believe this-

Michael: ...

Michael: Raphael?

Raphael: Yes?

Michael: *he doesn't see the doll anywhere in his room*

Michael: Where are they, Raphael?

Raphael: Father instructed to not leave anything.

Raphael: Luke went here and found out about the doll, so he asked the other angels to burn it.

Michael: And you didn't stop him?

Raphael: I will never go against Father's orders.

Michael: But our plan, Raphael... What happened to our plan?

Raphael: ...

Raphael: You just have to let it go. Everything has ended now.

Michael: ...

Simeon: Thirteen...

Thirteen: Yes. I cannot sense them anymore.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: I'm glad...

Thirteen: You don't have to force yourself, Simeon.

Thirteen: You can mourn. I won't stop you.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: I will take my leave. Thank you for everything, Thirteen.

Thirteen: *nods* *and watches him walk away*

Thirteen: ...

Thirteen: That's better. *tears streaming down her face*

Thirteen: I'm glad for you, MC... But I will miss you so much...

*Somewhere in the human world.*

Raphael: You should never go outside alone. If I'm not here, lock the doors and windows.

Child MC: Where are you going, Rapha?

Raphael: To work.

Child MC: Okay. *smiles* Take care, Rapha.

Raphael: *nods*

Theo: Raphael, I want you to take care of MC.

Raphael: Father, didn't you-

Theo: Yes. However, erasing their memories is similar to death. Wouldn't you agree?

Raphael: ...

Raphael: Yes.

Theo: To avoid the same thing from happening again, I've set a condition that will never be broken.

Raphael: What is it, father?

Theo: No one should know who they are other than you. If any of your brothers recognize them, they will die, and their life will start over.

Theo: To protect them, they shouldn't be loved nor love someone too much.

Theo: Do you understand what I'm saying, Raphael?

Raphael: ...

Raphael: Yes, father. Thank you for trusting me for this task.

[hms-no-fun]

do you have any advice for getting better at writing? More specifically, any books, lectures, or talks about writing that you would recommend?

i know i'm not gonna be able to give a super satisfying answer here because i don't really read/watch much on the topic of getting better at writing. the most important book in my early development as a writer was Stephen King's On Writing, which does a very good job distilling the essence of the job to certain tools in a toolkit and helped me come to terms with how disposable a lot of my writing is. i recently picked up Steering the Craft by Ursula K Leguin, because i read Left Hand of Darkness for the first time and it rewired my brain. i haven't spent much time with it because it's meant to be an exercise book that you write along with, but i feel it will be useful.

otherwise, i know from experience and from the mouths of many other writers that the only way to get better at writing is to write more. a big part of my early development came from a desire to always push myself with each project. if i detected a weakness in one story, i wanted my next thing to be about that weakness in some way. i pushed myself to write more dialect, to switch tenses and persons, to go out of my comfort zone and write from the perspective of (GASP) a woman. things of this nature. much of what resulted from those exercises was not particularly good, but that's not really the point. you do the best you can in the moment, but never let yourself feel wholly satisfied. there are always improvements to be made, new ideas to explore, more diverse modes of expression to play with.

i'd say the best thing you can do when looking for writing advice is to look to the writers whose stuff you like. i guarantee anyone who's been published will have a talk available on youtube somewhere. in the past i've gone ga-ga for the lectures of Neil Gaiman and China Mieville, because i like their books and wanted to know how that sausage got made. understanding other people's process is a good way to understand your own. pay attention to things you identify with, but pay especial attention to the things you feel a natural disagreement with. a procedural thing, say, that just doesn't make sense to you. a BIG part of becoming a better writer, in the "maintaining a self-confidence equilibrium" sense, is recognizing what parts of the process are yours. whatever it is the comes naturally to you, that draws you in, you'll invariably have strong opinions about that someone in some writing institution or other would tut-tut at. i find it's very difficult to really take something worthwhile from criticism unless you know what you're about on some level. i have a pretty good sense at this point of my strengths and weaknesses as a writer; i know the difference between a qualitative misstep and a choice that won't resonate with every reader.

it helps if you can find some like-minded people to write with in a low-stakes environment. or maybe not low-stakes! the only read i ever finished my first novel was because i was writing towards a contest deadline. deadlines can be good! but sharing stories around with some friends and giving each other feedback is a great way to build up some confidence. collaborating on a shared world or story can be immensely rewarding, as long as you don't go into it expecting to make money or get famous. don't put pressure on yourself to Make A Real Thing On A Schedule unless you really trust the people you're working with and have had a lot of conversations about professional conduct.

but otherwise, it all comes back to write more. don't be afraid to leave a graveyard behind you of countless unfinished works. the vast majority of things i started writing from when i was 14 to like 25 i never finished, then i finished a book and almost never wrote again. it's all part of the process, and it's not linear or obvious in any meaningful way. the trickiest part, for me, is learning how to write for your current project even when you don't feel the ~passion~ and ~inspiration~. and that's just a matter of time and honesty and elbow grease.

all any writer can ever tell you is how *they* write. they can give you signposts and guides and best practices, but ultimately no one will ever be able to teach *you* how to write for *yourself*. that only comes with practice. but it's doable and very worth the doing, in my opinion

[a-tale-of-legends]

Dante's team at this point of the story. A lot of his pokemon are very close to evolving ( his doublade and Absol are arguably the strongest members if we go by level). Dante is very lucky that he's not a nuzlocke protagonist like Jude is. At this point in the story, Dante is simultaneously taking the gym challenge and looking for mega stones for Lysandre. Because of this we most likely won't be seeing him until the PokeBall factor battle. That is,unless I can figure something out so he and Jude can interact between them. Not in battling but their usual banter. I do want their rivalry to be believable after all and you can't have that when they barely interact with each other( and given the fact that they end up together years later, gotta put the ground works for that too lol).

I think I should give the other three a proper rival fight too. Tierno the least, since he's not much of a battler, but I given how I'm writing him, the battle would be less about testing each other's strength and more about giving Jude an opportunity to open up ( "I don't care for you" he said, and yet his big brother tendencies are hard to ignore lol). In fact I think I'm going to have him accompany Jude with the Power Plant.

Trevor most likely has his battle during the Abomasnow arc, and Shauna...hm. Either they battle sometimes in lumiose city ooooor somewhere else. I dunno.

Speaking of Shauna~. She already met her Zygarde cell friend! Squishy,like the anime. I don't exactly know when she found him,but I do think she's had him on board for a while now. I definitely have to ramble about that aspect of Shauna's character and her growth, but I just want to confirm that Squishy is traveling with her! She hasn't exactly told anyone yet though. Maybe she goes to the professor while she's in lumiose?

One last thing before I go: Team Flare and the elite 4. In my version of events, the elite 4 pretty much recognize that Team Flare is a threat earlier on. At least. Kinda. The major thing that they've done up until now was that thing with the fossils in glittering cave, but given how sena and Dexio went full undercover during the power plant arc, I'm inclined to believe that the team has been active for a while now. I want Team Flare to be more threatening in my version of events, to the point where the kids don't know who to trust. They have eyes and ears everywhere after all. How I'm going to execute that I'm not sure BUT! With how team flare has been going around, I want the elite 4 + Diantha to do a little undercover work themselves. I can see Diantha using disguises to either get information on, or even ballsier, infiltrate Team Flare. This backfires since. Malva. But in general I want the league to be a bit more involved. Besides, it means I get to have Malva be a....double? Triple agent. Giving the league info on Team Flare but actually setting them up since she's part of team flare herself. Maybe her wavers a little bit cause she cares for Diantha a lot, but her loyalty to the cause is too strong. Interesting stuff.

Okay that's it for now. This was supposed to be about Dante but I ended up just going into my ideas for Legendverse! Pokemon XY lol. I hope it was an interesting read!

[geminidark]

Okay, so I don't usually make my own posts.

And I don't know that this will help anyone, but I made a list of things people in the U.S. might want to know. Now, credit for this goes to others, I only put it together and added some of the more... extreme precautions. I also wrote this specifically for my family and friends, but... Hell, everyone could use at least a part of it. I'm going to start with crediting the creator of the first list: https://bsky.app/profile/necrotelicom.bsky.social/post/3laby5fjugw2x

Secondly, I'm going to list this post as "commercial content," purely because I'm linking to suggested items. This list varies in severity from "everyone should do this" to "do this if you are in extreme fear for your life" or "you think you may one day need to flee somewhere." Not in any particular order. But without further delay, here we go...

General rules:

They're going to be looking at us in a spotlight regardless, don't give them a reason to look twice.

No joking threats, no serious threats, nothing they can throw a law at you for.

Be careful who you get your news from, try to stay to smaller sources if you can, they're less likely to be bought. Doesn't mean they can't be or aren't, so get multiple sources. Stay local if you can for immediate necessary information.

Keep your phone charged as much as possible.

Help those you can.

====

First, take care of yourself. This info is ripped from a tumblr post, so if you recognize it, good.

U.S. Suicide Hotline: call or text 988 (available 24 hours)

U.S. Trans Lifeline: (877) 565-8860 (when you call, you’ll speak to a trans/nonbinary peer operator. full anonymity and confidentiality)

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357) – provides 24/7 confidential support and referrals for individuals and families facing mental health and substance use disorders, including panic attacks and anxiety.

LGBT National Help Center: (888) 843-4564

Trevor Project: Call (866) 488-7386, text START to 678-678, or chat online.

====

General steps to take, and these were credited above if you read that thread on bluesky:

Renew passport and ID, ASAP

Get a copy of birth certificate

Get your vaccine records

Get any and all vaccines possible, including Tdap, MMR if you haven't had an adult booster, shingles if you're older, pneumococcal if you have underlying conditions, and Hep A & B if you haven't had them yet.

Get vaccines for common things, like typhoid and cholera. This may not be covered by insurance.

www.passporthealthusa.com is a helpful site.

Save the yellow booklet with vaccination records near your birth cert and passport

If desired, get a anti-fertility process, hysterectomy, or vasectomy now, before they get banned.

Get cancer screenings if you have a family history. Dermatologist for documentation of abnormalities for skin cancer

If you have a family history of other screenable things, get them checked now

PREP FOR LOSS OF POWER, see below for "buy these" items. Especially in a blue state where relief will be held back this means food, drinkable water, medication. Do what you can.

Draw up an estate plan including a will, advance directive, and powers of attorney, ESPECIALLY if in a same-sex relationship. Do the paperwork so your partner is your legal proxy. If possible, get it done by a lawyer for more security. If you don't have a partner or family to do it, consider asking a friend you highly trust to be your proxy.

If you're married or want to be in a same-sex, expect a pre v Windsor and pre v Hodges era to return. They won't recognize it, you'll have to be in a complex legal structure to protect yourself as much as possible. Check with elder queer folks for advice and to see what used to be done to get around it. Look for in-community lawyers that specialize in it.

If you have money to spare, search for gofundmes for passports, birth certificates, vaccine costs, name changes, etc. that you can help. Find an org that does vital records assistance, usually they fight homelessness, and give to them. Same for voter assistance orgs.

If you have no money but do have time, volunteer for orgs that do those things above. Play to your strengths, doing work you're good at is better for your time than doing work you're middling at. If you can, find an org that you can help by using what you're best at.

Check: "https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/w2w/index.htm?CDC_AA_refVal=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.cdc.gov%2Fnchs%2Fw2w.htm" for vital records info. A good place to start, apparently.

====

IF you have the funds to put towards your survival in a disaster: (Note, you don't have to get these exact ones, these are various options I personally think are helpful/necessary, but any brand would work, and cheaper is better than nothing. Some of these items overlap, as well.) The sooner you get them, the less likely they'll be hit by the tariffs the next president wants to put on everything. Hopefully these won't be necessary, use your discretion to decide if you do or not.

====

If you need glasses, get another pair just in case. Not necessarily required right now, but still smart in general.

====

Buy a backpack, two, three, over the shoulder bags as well. Anything you can carry that will hold food and tools. Put at least one together ahead of time for an emergency "get out now" situation. I recommend one of every survival tool you may have and a few days, or better yet, a week of food and water if you can. Get medkits, put two in each bag. Rubbing alcohol for sanitizing tools is smart too.

====

Flashlights, handcrank chargers. Some have solar panels too. Some are also weather radios. Choose as you think you might need. Also look into emergency radios for further ideas. Get some regular flashlights and a bunch of batteries. The below are multi-purpose and look pretty good for their jobs.

https://www.amazon.com/FosPower-Emergency-Portable-Household-Flashlight/dp/B07FKYHTWP $~30

https://www.amazon.com/Wireless-45800mAh-Charging-Flashlights-Carabiner/dp/B0BGX8Y62Y $~40

https://www.amazon.com/Eton-ARCCR100R_SNG-Crank-Powered-Clip-Flashlight/dp/B003BYROUQ $~10

https://www.amazon.com/Emergency-Radio%EF%BC%8C4000mAh-Solar-Portable-Flashlight-Lamp%EF%BC%8CCell/dp/B083TLZN7G $~30

https://www.amazon.com/Upgraded-Version-RunningSnail-Emergency-Flashlight/dp/B01MFCFKG5 $~16

====

Phone charging cords, backup cords for anything, wall outlet adapters, etc. are a good idea to have hanging around. Rechargeable flashlights and rechargeable batteries are both good ideas as well. Waterproof if possible. You never know when you'll need a knife, but a multitool is helpful too. Lighters and/or matches, especially those that are waterproof, are a good idea. Get a knife with a glass-breaker if you can. Don't get a knife with the thought of using it on someone, these are for survival, nothing else. Emergency noise makers, like whistles, are a wise idea too. If you have to get really out of town, get some rope if you can. Can never have too much rope, as long as it's tied properly for carrying. The last two tools in the list here are good mixes of things. Pepper-spray is a good idea to have as well.

https://www.amazon.com/Stormproof-Waterproof-Weatherproof-Submersible-Watertight/dp/B08XJZ9LRN $~10

https://www.amazon.com/UCO-Stormproof-Waterproof-Matches-Strikers/dp/B004P5XOTA $~8

https://www.amazon.com/95-Serrated-Blade-Pocket-Knife/dp/B0B5H6XXNH $~10

https://www.amazon.com/Victorinox-Swiss-Classic-Pocket-Knife/dp/B00004YVB2 $~25

https://www.amazon.com/Multitool-Multitools-Professional-Multi-tool-PERWIN/dp/B09YLPWXTX $~25

https://www.amazon.com/Multitool-Portable-Locking-Spring-Action-Survival/dp/B07Z1T3S8B $~14

https://www.amazon.com/WORKPRO-Stainless-Multitool-Multipurpose-Activities/dp/B0C88XTTC1 $~25

https://www.amazon.com/Multitool%EF%BC%8CProfessional-%EF%BC%8CMultitool-Screwdriver-Replaceable-Multitools/dp/B0C5CNKR3K $~10

https://www.amazon.com/DPNAO-Multitool-Screwdriver-Multifunctional-Adjustable/dp/B07KTVG5PS $~30

====

LIGHTERS, if you need a fire outside or in your own home, assuming you have no power. Like I said at the top, these are rather extreme ideas, but hopefully you won't need these.

https://www.amazon.com/Laffizz-Waterproof-Rechargeable-Flashlight-Activities/dp/B0CGLTTFML $~15

https://www.amazon.com/HUMWE-Waterproof-Lighters-Survival-Multipurpose/dp/B0C2ZRFQ76 Just a cover for reglars, $~9

https://www.amazon.com/Electric-Lighter%EF%BC%8CUSB-Charge%EF%BC%8CRechargeable%EF%BC%8CArc%EF%BC%8CPlasma-Candles%EF%BC%8CFireworks%EF%BC%8CGrill%EF%BC%8CCook-Obsidian/dp/B08GLRLH25 $~8

====

Camping gear, just in case:

https://www.amazon.com/Odoland-Cookware-Carabiner-Stainless-Backpacking/dp/B01MS07XPL $~35

https://www.amazon.com/Orienteering-Compass-Backpacking-Navigation-Professional/dp/B07CK8B3R3 $~10

https://www.amazon.com/Flashlight-LHKNL-Ultra-Light-Rechargeable-Waterproof/dp/B08D66HCXW $~20

https://www.amazon.com/12PCS-Aluminum-Carabiner-Clip-Multipurpose/dp/B08T6LC7SK $~8

https://www.amazon.com/Coghlans-8408-Backpackers-Trowel/dp/B000BS05Z6 $~4

https://www.amazon.com/Solar-Power-Charger-Flashlight-Splashproof/dp/B07FDXDB3W $~27

https://www.amazon.com/ReferenceReady-WildCards-Outdoor-Knots-Carabiner/dp/B07VVT97RB $~8

https://www.amazon.com/Stanley-Adventure-Camp-Stainless-Steel/dp/B005188T90 $~25

====

Water safety straws are wise even if you stay home, given RFK's idiocy. Water filtration and purification are gonna be important in a serious emergency like a hurricane or tornado.

https://www.amazon.com/LifeStraw-Personal-Camping-Emergency-Preparedness/dp/B006QF3TW4 $~18

https://www.amazon.com/Waterdrop-Portable-Filtration-Emergency-Backpacking/dp/B086QNLBB4 $~40

====

Final Thoughts:

We can't fix everything, but we can fight like hell to keep them from killing us as easily as they'd like. Do what you can, as you can. Help those you can afford to, and don't beat yourself too hard if you can't help as much as you want. Burdens shared are burdens cut into fractions, and every little bit helps.

Stay safe.

[adh-james-version]

Years (ALICE x LILY)

Okay to preface this I see them with like a Riley/Val Dynamic

Its in the 70s (roughly) 

- - -

"Mary shes so pretty, I want to talk to her so bad." Lily said looking over at Alice who was sitting with her friends not to far in the courtyard.

"Then talk to her."

"But don't forget she's a fifth year, and we're third years."

"Age doesn't matter when I want to be her friend." Lily said as she turned back to her friends before craning her neck backwards to look towards Alice again.

Mary and Marlene exchanged a look before Marlene smirked.

"Ay, Fortescue!"

Lily turned beet red and turned her head away so fast her hair couldn't keep up.

"Yeah?" Alice replied turning her head slightly.

"Say something Lils" Mary whispered as she and Marlene held in laughter.

Alice turned away recognizing the game the girls were playing. As both girls friends laughed at them Lily made note to kill her friends and Alice made note to talk to the girl just to be nice.

One Year Later

"Hey Little Red"

"Hi Alice!"

"You trying out for Quidditch this year?"

"Oh GOD no, I'm gonna be a Mathlete though."

"Oh that's cute" Alice laughed, "You know if you ever DID want to play quidditch, I know the captain."

"We get it you're dating Frank." Lily said rolling her eyes

Alice's face screwed up, "DATING!?", she fake gagged, "No. Way. Frank is my best friend, actually no he's my brother at that."

"Really? Everyone keeps telling me that you guys are dating."

"No, trust me, we are not  dating."

"Okay, well I'm headed to the library if you want to come with?"

"Sure."

The two headed to the library and as they sat down Alice couldn't help herself from borderline staring at the redhead in front of her. 

Wait, what? No. Shes fourteen, I'm sixteen, that's not okay. It's just a little sister feeling nothing serious, yeah lets leave it like that. That makes senses

 One Year Later

Lily woke up to a knocking sound on her door. Lily groggily stood up and unlocked the front door, grabbing the flowers off of the floor and placing them on the dorm living room table she glanced at the note, "To Lily Evans" Dorcas probably sent Marls some- wait what."

"Huh?"

Lily opened the letter attached to the flowers.

---

Dear Lily,

You don't know who sent you these or maybe you do  because you're clever, it's one of the many reasons I love you, although you don't know that. I love you're smile and how it brightens up my day and any room you walk into. I love your hair and how pretty and silky smooth it is, especially when you tie it up in a bun and use a pencil to hold it up. I love your bubbly but nonsense attitude and I love the way that you  are the only one who scares James and Sirius (and me if I'm honest). I love the ways that you are compassionate and I love how you are always there to listen and help anyone who needs it, even if what they need is the stone cold truth.

This is all just to say that I love you, Lily Evans, and we can't be together even if you love me back because I am too old for you right now. And I just wanted to get it off my chest even if you won't know who I am. I sincerely hope we find each other later in life. 

With Love

---

Lily was in shock and had tears in her eyes, who could this be? She scanned through the letter again looking for clues to who it was, but she came up with nothing. She grabbed the flowers smelling them. It was a mix of Lilies and a flower that Lily recognized quickly, Pink climbing flowers otherwise know as...

Oh.

Alice Roses.

Lilies tears were let loose now, there was nothing she could do, the semester ended two weeks ago and Alice had already left. Lily had no way of knowing where she was, only knowing that she was somewhere in Britain. Lily potted the flowers in her room as the tears kept flowing. Alice admitted her love and now she'd never see her again.

She knew she probably wouldn't see Alice again when term ended but this was too much to bear. She could've at least told her how she felt and now she'd lost her last chance. The tears stained her face as she locked her room door. Her pillow was soaked as she laid back down, one thing repeating over and over in her head.

She'd lost her chance.

Six Years Later

Interning at a News Station was educating for sure but it was definitely tiring.  But luckily the Station (for some reason) gave her a day off and she was taking advantage. As she walked to her favorite Coffee shop she basked in the lack of stress the day has brought. She walked in and walked up to the counter and placed her order. She turned around and walked in to a frame slightly taller than her but not by much. "Oh I'm...sorry....." 

"Little Red...? Well I guess you're not so little now."

[joboozle]

If the Shoe Fits.

I am tired. I am that kind of tired you feel in your bones, in the pit of your chest. I am tired of pretending like I am okay, that I dont cry myself to sleep every day or night. I am tired of pretending that most of my friends didn't abandoned me when I had post partum, that the rest of them didn't abandon me after, too. I'm tired of acting like I'm not lonely, faking a smile for everyone around me that I can. That regular customers I see once a week are the only ones who have noticed anything was wrong. I'm tired of people who only want someone to vent to but when I need someone, suddenly disappear. Fucking exhausted by everyone who cuts me off when I'm talking, drained by their problems. Annoyed by those who only think me me me while everyone else around them suffers quietly. I'm fucking irritated that I spend 40 hours a week taking care of drunk assholes then coming home to clean, do laundry, do a lot of things just to get no sleep and be treated like I don't do anything. I am absolutely exasperated by those who don't understand how hard this is, that I can't just take on a new job that isn't as lenient as the one I have. I need a job that will understand when I can't come or that I'll be late because I've been in the ER all afternoon because my spouse has health issues. I'm tired of pretending like I don't know certain people won't come over because I don't live somewhere nice. I'm over acting like I haven't noticed those who ditched me in the middle of a crisis, those who haven't checked in, those who just send back one word replies. I need someone to talk to, someone to care. If one more person tells me, "You're so strong," I'm going to lose the last of my god damn sanity. I don't want to be anyones charity case, I know everyone thinks, "Oh she's been through so much." I'm done with the pity. I'm done being the walking door mat for everyone else. I listen to everyone elses problems, help out those that I can. I tried, fuck did I try, to be likeable. But I will never fit it anywhere, no matter the face I put on. There's so much I don't tell anyone anymore because i know they don't care unless there's something in it for them. I don't get hey how are you? hey how was your day? i appreciate you, i love you. It's all so fucking hollow, How am I? I'm fucking terrible, every day I wake up thinking I WISH I DIDN'T I'm tired of hearing all the things I did wrong, how much of a bitch I am, closed off I am. How do you think I got this way? Oh, I know I"m not completely innocent. But it's funny what happens when you stop being the one to check in, to start the conversations. They either don't talk to you, or don't even recognize it and continue asking for things, asking you to pick up their slack, dumping their bullshit on you. I see people for what they are but I still try to find the good in them. But it doesn't matter. Because if you stand up for yourself, then oh my god, you're just so terrible. I'm over it all and I'm over everyone. Use use use, take take take. And unfortunately, there's nothing left of me anymore. So I'll sit here, crying, letting the loneliness carve through me, and keep trying to pretend that nothing is wrong, because that's all anyone wants. Whatever I can give them, whatever I can do for them, because no one actually cares about anyone else but themselves.

(And trust me, I realize the irony of that while I complain about how no one gives a fuck about me.)

So when I die, don't have a funeral. Don't have a memorial. Don't even think of me.

[kiridarling]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒

izuku midoriya | ft. ceo!au + praise + exhibitionism + breaking and entering + body worship + f!reader + more! minors dni.

— 3.8k words

“When I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to."

You’ve always hated Chopin.

“L’œuf mimosa, Madame?”

After turning down the poor waiter whose arms quiver under the weight of the plates, you turn back to your red wine and people-watching. The ballroom is full of golds and reds, the amber lighting illuminating the intricately decorated walls. And you sit in the middle of it all—you and your 147 billion net-worth, with a ball gown that’s caught at least half the aristocratic asshole’s attention, not that they were very loyal to their wives in the first place.

You're not here for their attention, though. You’re strictly here for business—and frankly, you want to do nothing more than sock these fat business moguls in their chubby faces until their teeth fall out and demand they pay their taxes. But, seeing as you’re the only woman here who isn’t a gold-digging wife, you bite your tongue.

You’ve always dreaded black tie events, but as you’ve said, duty calls.

A whine filters through the speakers, followed by two amplified taps and a clear of a throat. The murmur down as the auction's owner takes the center of the stage, stilling in front of the next piece of art—hidden behind a black veil—before adjusting the tie to his business suit.

“I’m glad that you all could be with us tonight. I have both a great privilege and honor to host this event,” he announces, bulbous head already growing damp under the heat of the stage lights. “Now that we're almost at the end, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. Saving the best for last, as one does."

He includes a casual wave to his comment and the audience erupts in a flurry of chuckles, though not for long. As he walks over to the piece, hand raised and ready to reveal, silence seizes the room by the neck.

"Well. Shall we?”

The audience balances on the edges of their seats, with millions of wide eyes and thrumming chests in anticipation. A smooth flick of a hand and the black sheet is removed, and there sits the only piece you’ve had your eyes on all night. She’s even more beautiful up close.

“El Bacio, The Kiss. Francesco Hayez, 1859.”

The grip around your glass tightens. The brilliant blue from the woman’s dress in the oil painting may as well burn your eyes, and the surrounding murmurs peak with your interest. You know it's yours without question, though—you can outbid almost anyone in this room. Anyone that matters, anyway.

“This is the original version, originally commissioned by Count Alfonso Maria Visconti of Saliceto. It was donated to the Pinacoteca di Brera in 1886 and went missing in 1937. Starting at ten million.”

You try not to scowl. The fucker jacked up the price by two million.

“Twelve million,” the man says as he recognizes whoever lifted a hand. You sit tight, your hands throbbing in your lap for the right moment as you survey the room for anyone who could possibly pose a threat. You find none.

The bidding continues. The price elevates from twelve million to fifteen to thirty to fifty. You raise a hand, finally, fingers splayed wide and confident to signify a five.

“Fifty-five million.”

The room falls silent; you try not to smile. You know for a fact no one wants this painting more than you do, and you’re determined to have it.

“No one else?”

His eyes scan the room but no one makes a motion. It’s yours.

Until there’s movement from your peripheral.

“Sixty million!”

You eye whoever had the audacity to raise their hand, only to be met with a rather peculiar sight—a man, roughly your age, with slicked-back green hair and a hand twice the size of yours, lifted lazily in the air.

With a huff, you find yourself thrusting another five into the air.

“Sixty-five millio—Seventy million!”

You know that green-haired (probably) trust fund baby has got to be doing this for fun because the poorly hidden smirk hidden behind the hand he rests his chin on is more than obvious.

You dislike him already, immediately categorizing him with the rest—another sleazeball.

“Seventy-five million!”

“Eighty million!”

“One hundred million!”

In your defense, you were getting frustrated.

Either way, the green-haired stranger backs off with a nonchalant shrug, and it makes you burn this discontent. The business mogul-turned-auctioneer steps off the stage for another twenty-minute intermission and folks turn to one another for conversation. You sigh, simply satisfied that you’ve gotten what you came for.

You find yourself faintly puzzled by the boy with the green hair, and you're sure it's solely due to his age. Frankly, you've been the only one under thirty in the Top 100 Richest People since you achieved such a feat, and the fact that you haven't heard of him is...puzzling. But it doesn't matter. Clearly, he’s just another fellow looking to put another pretty thing in his foyer—you doubt he knows a thing about art, and definitely not an appreciation for it. You find solace in the fact that it's the new addition to your precious art collection instead, and will be owned and taken care of by someone who actually enjoys it.

“Good evening.”

You jump. Wrapped up in all of your inner turmoil (complemented by inner bragging, naturally) you fail to notice the greenette cross the expanse of the ballroom and make himself comfortable in the open seat next to you, despite your lack of approval.

“Hello,” you say, unsure of why he's here. He offers a hand to shake, Rolex glinting under the golden lighting.

“Izuku Midoriya,” he introduces, and you suppose shaking his hand won’t hurt.

“Your name?” He snorts, raising a cocky eyebrow. You scowl.

“Does it matter?”

“Not particularly.” Izuku rests his forearms on the table as his evergreen eyes rake your figure up and down. “But if you prefer to remain nameless, be my guest.”

“[Y/N].”

“Hmm?”

“My name,” you clarify. “It’s [Y/N].”

You’re not exactly sure what possessed you to tell him your name so easily. Maybe the fact that most already know who you are, and the fact that this man—this stranger—doesn’t know who you are, irks you a bit.

Okay. It irks you a lot.

“Well, Miss [Y/N],” Izuku tilts his head sideways. “I think that’s a very pretty name.”

Your body betrays you with a light gasp. Stupid thing.

“Well. I’m bored,” Izuku announces childishly, relaxing against the chair. “Lets go somewhere.”

You roll your eyes at his asserted dominance—in no way does he expect you to go with him, does he? You raise an eyebrow.

“No.”

Izuku clicks his tongue as if it were a buzzer, and more importantly, as if you were wrong. “Why?”

That has you scoffing. “I don’t know you.”

Izuku’s eyes flash with a challenge and it’s gone just as quickly. He leans forwards, crowding your personal space yet again.

“I told you my name, no?”

“You did,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your back. You feel too small. “But I know nothing about you.“

“Well,” Izuku places an inquisitive finger on his lips, and it’s almost mocking, the way he takes a moment to think about it. “My name is Izuku Midoriya. I like...katsudon and hero movies. I’m here because I have too much time and money on my hands, and I’m, most importantly, bored.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you do for a living?”

Izuku’s lip curls, and it’s downright sinister, “I'll tell you if you come with me."

You roll your eyes, and he takes both your hands in his. You don’t pull away, but you don’t reciprocate it either.

“Where?”

Izuku shrugs, “Wherever the wind takes us.”

Your stomach growls loudly, interrupting your fairly intimate conversation and dying your cheeks pink. Izuku raises an eyebrow.

“I heard they’re feeding us escargo for dinner.”

“Ugh,” you sigh, shoulder sagging. “Looks like I’m not eating, then.”

But there’s a glint in his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t one in your own. There's an ebb in the discourse, a beat, before Izuku's nodding towards the exit.

“Fast food?”

Wendy’s hits different during a Parisian midnight.

“—and so I had to be like: No Kacchan, you can’t hotwire his car to blow just because your food was, and I quote, lukewarm.”

You snicker behind a fist, digging your fancy heels into the grimy cement sidewalk, Wendy’s frostee in hand. Izuku hasn’t let go of your hand since you two left the fast-food joint, and for some reason, you haven’t pulled away.

"Violence seems to be a reoccurring theme with your friend," you say, laughing when Izuku nods in agreement, eyes stuck on the full moon hanging high in the air.

"You remind me of him, actually."

You raise an eyebrow, unable to see the correlation at all, "Because I'm a loud and angry and I like to blow things up."

"Or, because you're strong—independent. The type of woman to make men turn tail and run, you know?" Izuku turns to you with a lopsided grin.

You hum, averting your eyes to the moon. It's a stupid question, one that's all too loaded yet empty at the same time, and you hate that you hesitate to ask it.

"Why haven't you ran, then?"

"Easy." Izuku lets a smooth shrug roll off his shoulders, "I like strong women."

He continues to pull you to an undisclosed destination, the two of you stumbling through the heart of Paris with his suit jacket around your goosebump-ridden shoulders. People stare, but for the first time in forever, you find that you don't care much.

Finally, you two reach Izuku's "big reveal." You gaze at the magnificently lit french building in confusion, the golden under lights contrasting both of your beings against the navy blue sky.

"The Louvre?"

"Mhm," Izuku says, and he looks more than giddy. "Have you been?"

"Once," your voice is weary and you're sure he senses it, his grip tightening around your own. "For a fundraiser...but it's midnight Izuku, ho—"

But he's already tugging you to the right, dipping between columns and arches until you reach the back of the building. Izuku turns to you and whispers:

"Watch this."

It's hard to tell what he did exactly, especially with no light—it's just a bunch of jingles and ticks. Though, the moment you can't escape the sense that this is beyond sketchy, a lock clicks, and a door whines open.

"Hurry. And take your heels off," Izuku whispers, tilting his head towards the entrance. You hear the crunch of a leaf and see the beginning of a white flashlight curl around the building and fuck, this place has to be crawling with security guards, doesn't it?

"Don't tell me what to do," you grumble...as you take off your shoes. (Because you were going to do it anyway.) You enter and he closes the door behind the two of you, submerging you both in complete darkness.

"Security's only on the outside," Izuku grins. "They don't expect us to get inside, so as long as we're quiet, it should be fine."

"Until we have to get back out again," you say, huffing. Your heart pounds from the adrenaline because frankly, you've never been one for adventures, and breaking into a historical french museum is miles out of your comfort zone. "Seriously, did you think this through at all? What happens when we get caught?"

Izuku sighs, turning to you with a pout before grabbing your free hand again. "Women worry too much. C'mon—I wanna explore."

"You—let go, you misogynistic assho—"

You're cut off by a finger to your lips. Izuku bends down so he’s looking at you straight on, eyes dark as he sternly whispers, "Do you want us to get caught?"

It's not the prospect of getting caught that makes you falter, though—it's the way his stare pins you in place, voice swollen with that air of dominance you claim to hate. You have to tighten your grip on your heels to ensure they don't hit the ground.

"Now," Izuku‘s strangely childish manner returns, tugging your hand once your panicked whisper-yelling ceases, "Shall we?"

You roll your eyes, but your bare feet patter against the cold Louvre tile anyway. And you've got to say, the museum is much nicer when it isn't crawling with people.

"Mona Lisa's forehead is bigger than I thought," Izuku observes with a finger on his lip. He's on the wrong side of the railing, his nose close to kissing the glass protecting the piece. You snort, dropping your head to pinch the bridge. He turns to give you a weird look.

"What?"

"Nothing, just," you shake your head, the cool wood of the railing digging into your forearms. "Did you actually want that painting?"

Izuku frowns. "Which one?"

"El Bacio."

"Mm," the greenette hums as he thinks, blinking to the corner of the room."I suppose. You seemed like you wanted it more, though."

You roll your eyes, "So you cap at eighty million?"

Izuku shrugs, hopping the railing. Seems like he's finally done insulting poor Lisa, "I capped when you started to sweat."

You huff, but stomping instead of walking isn't so intimidating when you're barefoot. "I wasn't sweating."

You see a hidden smirk on Izuku's face once you catch up to him, and it's frustrating and insulting, to say the least. Both of you proceed down a hall of statues. "You're much easier to read than you think, Miss [Y/N]."

"And you're not as perceptive as you think, Mister Midoriya."

Izuku chuckles at that, shaking his head. "Well played, Miss [Y/N]. Well played."

You're not sure why your chest swells, but it does, and it takes both you and your limited lung capacity off guard. But you don't have much time to sort it out—Izuku's grabbing your hand again, and redirecting your attention to the last statue in the hall. You recognize it and frown.

“Cupid and Psyche?”

The silver moonlight pours in through the window, spilling down Cupid’s tipped wings and the softest points of the Psyche’s curves. Izuku hums in confirmation, hands sliding to encompass your hips as his chin hooks on your shoulder.

"Well done, Miss [Y/N]."

His voice deepens—it's coarse and heady, and gets your blood rushing in a way breaking and entering never could have.

"Amore e Psiche, Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss. Antonio Canova, 1793."

You fail to understand why this statue stood out to him compared to all the others, but the circles Izuku’s thumb presses into your hips signifies that you’ll find out soon.

"Cupid represents desire, and Psyche, the human soul," Izuku says, running his hands up your sides. "Together, they make the perfect union."

Dipping his nose into your neck, Izuku inhales, and the hands around your waist tighten, if the smallest bit. "Psyche was the prettiest woman in the world; so pretty she rivaled Venus' beauty with her own. It didn't matter if it broke rules—Cupid knew he had to have her."

The gentle nudge of a neck evolves into a set of butterfly kisses, tracing the column of your neck until his mouth reaches your ear. A hand slides to gently cup your breast, and the other to your thigh.

"Miss [Y/N], when I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to." Izuku groans into your neck, hips gently grinding forwards. "So, it's up to you what we do next—I could drop you off at your home to probably never see you again, or...”

Izuku shifts, and you can feel his hardening cock against your back. “I can bend you over right here. Your choice.”

You hesitate, determined to think this through—but Izuku's wandering hands and rutting hips prove to be too much of a distraction.

"Fine," is all you say, before whirling around, grabbing the greenette by his dress shirt, and slamming your lips onto his.

Izuku kisses back with a grin—like he knew you were going to say yes—and places his hands around your waist yet again, backing you up against the marble statue.

"Sit on the platform," he breathes into your mouth. You frown.

"Like, the platform to the statue? Caus—"

"Yes on the statue, now sit," Izuku demands, but he doesn't give you much room to protest, forcing you onto the marble platform. Hiking your dress to your waist, Izuku's calloused palms slide up your inner thighs, spreading them apart to make room for himself in between. He pauses.

"No panties?"

You flush red—from the exposure or the comment, you aren't sure—but you huff in defiance nevertheless, determined to stand your ground and keep some of your dignity. (Though you're positive Izuku can feel you shaking already.)

"I'm wearing a dress," you defend weakly.

Izuku hums behind a bitten lip, lying a heavy thumb on your clit. It's enough pressure to make your thighs tense but not much else, until it flicks downwards.

"I wanna taste you," Izuku growls with dilated pupils once he finally tears his gaze from your exposed body. "Can I?"

Heat surges through your veins, and you let him pry your thighs apart as you respond with an unsteady, "Yeah—yeah, that's fine."

Izuku's chest rumbles with a growl as he closes in on your pussy, hands gripping underneath your thighs. You whimper when he trails butterfly kisses down your inner legs, the grip you have around the skirt of your dress tightening.

"So pretty," Izuku groans, chuckling when you shiver as he flattens his tongue against your slit, "My Goddess."

With that he dives in, almost sending you toppling with the force. The moonlight dyes his green locks a navy blue, and you can't resist seizing them into a fist when he pushes a finger in.

"Feel good, Gorgeous?" Izuku says with a knowing smirk on his sinfully glossed lips. Another digit enters and it has your toes curling as you nod. “Shit, you’re tight.”

Izuku spits on your pussy and it’s downright dirty, before looks at you under forest green eyelashes, the other hand finally letting go of your thigh in favor for pulling at the top of your dress.

“Izuku, wha—“

“I wanna see your tits,” he huffs. You’d laugh at his enthusiasm if you weren’t so aroused, and you find your hands joining in the flurry. The moment they’re free, Izuku’s mouth latches onto your breast in an instant.

“F-Fuck, ‘Zuku—“

“You sound so good when you moan my name, sweetheart,” Izuku groans, and you jolt as he tweaks a bud.

“Say it again.”

He pinches your nipple and clit at the same time, and it has your legs kicking as you squeal his name again.

The Izuku growls and it's nothing but feral, and another yelp of his name has him pulling you to your feet to the point where your noses almost touch. Aggravated from being so close before the greenette ripped his fingers away has you scowling.

"Wha—"

"Can I fuck you?" His breath ghosts your lips. You hide your shock by a roll of your eyes.

"Do you always ask stupid questions?"

Izuku hums in contemplation before grabbing you harshly by the jaw, to the point where your cheeks squish into your eyes and your lips pucker. "Say it, Bunny."

"I just sa—"

"Say 'I want you to fuck me, Izuku,'" he says with a cruel snarl. "’Hard.’"

Your eyes dart from his heavy gaze to the statue, and you can't help but feel more fragile than glass. "I litera—"

"Say it, brat."

"I—" you try but nothing comes out, and you blame that darkened stare of his, "I w-want you to fuck me. Izuku."

Izuku inhales sharply, the fingers cradling your face tightening before he speaks again.

"Good girl."

He spins you so your hands lay on the statue's base, yanking your hips back and flipping your dress so your bare ass is exposed to the cool air.

Izuku's palms caress your behind, kneading both globes before he pulls you against his bare cock. (When he took off his pants is beyond you.) He slaps his cock against your clit until you huff in frustration, turning around to shoot him an angry glare.

"Today, Izuku."

The greenette blinks out of his absorbed gaze on your behind in favor of glowering you down. You waver under his glare despite your best efforts.

His cock kisses your entrance and then all of it is in you at once, and his size is enough to make your inner thighs ache from the stretch. You bite your lip in an attempt to muffle a moan, but that crashes and burns fairly quickly.

"O-Oh shi—"

"You said today, didn't you?" Izuku rasps, before pulling out and stuffing you full at a quick and steady pace. Your hands scramble for proper purchase against the statue—without breaking it, for gods sake—but the harder he fucks you into it, the harder it is to stay upright. "Quiet, baby. We're not supposed to be here, remember?"

You nod frantically, teeth digging into your bottom lip. The thought of getting caught, you, of all people, while being railed against a marble statue—

Izuku moans in your ear, a hand moving between your thighs to rub at your clit. "Oh, you tightened when I said that—you like the idea of getting caught, Bunny?"

You respond with a choked moan, thighs quivering with an impending orgasm. Izuku groans as you tighten around him again, but they quickly turn into shushes.

"Bu—"

"I-I know," your voice cracks and it's absolutely pathetic. "But I can't—"

Izuku's hand wraps around your mouth to the point where his fingertips just barely brush your ears. You whine, eyes fluttering as the new grip adjusts the angle ever so slightly, and pushes him so much deeper.

"You're gonna kill me," Izuku says, wheezing out a laugh. "I—fuck Bunny, I'm close."

You whimper behind his hand and nod as if to say me too, and you're sure Izuku understands from the way he groans before he speeds up in all aspects. "Good. G-Good—cum for me baby, I know you can—"

Your toes curl into the marble floor as the coil in your gut snaps, knocking the wind out of you and sending you thrashing in Izuku's arms. You hear the greenette curse and shudder behind you, stuttering hips slowing to an eventual stop. Both of you stand there for a moment, comfortable interrupting the silence with nothing but your heaving breaths.

"You okay?"

You chuckle. It's dry and scratchy, and your lip throbs from biting it so hard, but it isn’t...aggravating, per-se. "You sound worse than me."

Izuku laughs at that, though it waters down as he pulls out with a hiss. "I don't think worse is the correct adjective here, Miss [Y/N].”

You snort. Back to “Miss [Y/N]” it is, then.

Your ears catch the distinct wail of ever-increasing sirens, but you don't think much of it until the side of Izuku's face starts flashing blue and red. Both you and the greenette falter, sharing a look.

"Police! Hands in the air!"

i wrote this while watching a hysterectomy in physio aah (also yes, the french police speak in english leave me alone skjdhfgk) — sun

[vole-mon-amour]

6x20.

I'm gonna go INSANE. This was literally my first thought after Derek. That if Rossi is ever gonna sit like this with Aaron, the mood is gonna be SO much different. And it is! They're talking like old friends (and they are! It's not a (totally) work related thing, they're meeting after working hours and exchanging opinions and worries). They're so comfortable with each other. They are sharing a drink, something that would be extremely unprofessional and unappropriated with any other member of the team. Dave is so relaxed there, making jokes, trying to cheer Aaron up but not taking him for a fool or trying to make a joke out of the situation itself. He has his priorities straight (more like gay, but you know). And how Aaron is always Aaron for David—because he is Hotch for the rest of the team, & how David is always Dave for Aaron, at least when they are alone. He still sometimes calls him Rossi when he gives orders on where to go and what to do, "Morgan, you and Rossi go to ***", but it's always work related. When they are on a crime scene together in the same episode, just the two of them, Aaron calls for David from another room, "Dave?" & David drops what he's doing and comes to Aaron.

Aaaand, "I also know." Of COURSE you know. It's the base of your relationship. You know his deepest secrets, you know him on a very deep & personal level. You love him & you want him to be happy. And when he can't be happy, you want him to at least be okay.

Aaron Answering "I'm alright" and immediately frowning, recognizing what he's doing, and changing his answer (he wouldn't do this for & with anyone else, but because it is Dave & he trusts him, he opens up). David making Aaron smile in the darkest moments & Aaron making him smiling back. I think I've overused the word "familiarity", but it's what I love the most. "I know you. You won't fool me. I'm here for you because you need me, not because you have to ask me because Strauss told you so." There is a reason why one of my fav tropes in fiction is best friends to lovers & they are IT.

He always had trouble letting people in, but he let Aaron into his heart. And he probably loved him for fucking years. I am losing my mind.

David, looking Aaron in the eyes: I'm married to the team.

The meaning: You're my team & I'm married to you.

And Aaron's happy shy smile to that reply. They are so fucking in love, and I'm so in love with them, help. Also thinking about what might have happened in their past. Even if nothing romantic has happened, the feelings must have been there way before this. What if Dave couldn't work this out because his heart with somewhere else (e.i. with Aaron?) What if Dave always knew he's bisexual/gay (that can be the case, too, unfortunately), but kept trying with women? Not to mention that he's the same workaholic as Aaron himself.

They are in love AND married. "We will. You and I. It's going to get better, my love." Somebody shoot m— scream with me.

Husbands. Just husbands. Loneliness together. Getting through all this pain together. Healing together. This is just not possible with the rest of the team (and even Gideon didn't have this with Aaron). It's something only these two share, something very special, and you can pry that only from my cold dead hands (and even then I'll cling to that).

Bonus:

Honestly, they drink together at night, then get back to work all professional and not-connected-in-any-way. And the team doesn't know because they do that late at night where there's no one at the office. And I can totally see now how their relationship is a secret at work, at least the romantic part of it, but how they go home together & turn into that old married couple until they have to show up at work and act all professional again. Can't wait to finish the show so I can write something, my imagination is itching to write.

The consistency of Aaron sticking with David to go to crime scenes together (and calling him Dave <3).

[onlymexsarah]

Promise pt.1 || Kaz Brekker

Summary: Y/n is a grisha who is running away since her whole life. The meeting with a little boy who had just lost everything will change their life forever.

Pairing: child!Kaz Brekker x grisha!reader (Platonic, wait till part two)

Warning: mention of trauma, my english.

A/n: this story is bornt from one of my 3 a.m. ideas. I don't know how many part it will be yet. I'm sorry for any mistake but like I always said, english is not my first language :)) Let me know what do you think😘

PT. 2 - PT. 3 - PT. 4 - PT. 5

MAIN MASTERLIST

The grisha girl let a sigh of relief when she noticed that the men in black coat had stopped following her. She knew she couldn't stay there any longer or her pursuers would find her.

She flipped between two buildings without being noticed, but as soon as she disappeared from the main streets she bumped in a little body. The girl looked down at her knees seeing a little boy staring at her apologising.

"Ehy there, are you ok?" she asked at the boy.

He shrugged looking down. She noticed his red empty eyes and his pale skin. He was soaked and shaking and for some reason he seemed to be running away from somethung worse than her pursuers.

She refused to let him go, not like this, so she grabbed him gently pushing him in the little street, away from the stares of the people noticing that he tensed when she touched him.

"What happened, baby?" she lowered her voice a bit while she rubbed gently his shoulders with her hands sitting on her tip toes.

He looked in her eyes for a moment before throwing himself in her arms. He started sobbing while his tears fell in her neck and she felt her eyes getting wet too at the sight of it.

She hugged him stronger, whispering in his ears comforting words. Behind him she saw a pile of wooden boxes and with little effort she brought the boy there. He sat beside her trying to compose himself while she gave him a red handkerchief with three letters on it: W. V. E.

He gave her a curious look at which she sadly smiled. "My brother..." His eyes darkened thanking her. "What is you name little boy?"

"K-..." he stopped for a long moment thinking about it. He looked the girl beside him and even if he wanted to trust her he just couldn't after what happened. "Jordie..."

He expected her to see his lie, but she just smiled sweetly at him. "Well Jordie, can I know what happened? Or maybe if you have someone where I can bring you? This is not a nice place for the boy of your age..."

"I have no one...no one." these words hurt both of them. She didn't know what had happened to that child to make him like it, but it wasn't hard to figure out that it was surely something that a child shouldn't see. "I don't know what to do anymore..."

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked touching his shoulder with her own. The boy, whose name wasn't obviously Jordie, nodded looking her curiously. She smirked bringin her left hand on her right one and rotating them slowly. A flame came out from her right palm, little but still powerful; red and orange like the handkerchief she had given him before.

The boy's eyes shone marveled looking the flame on her palm. "You are a grisha!"

"Inferni of the rank of the Etheralki, precisely." She winked at him letting the flame flying over the boy to dry him a bit. "But I told you, it's a secret. You can't tell anyone, Jordie."

"Why you are keeping it secret?" he was confused.

Her chest started to burn a little, but she swept it away. "Becase there are bad people who hunt me since I was born, so everywhere I go no one can know what I am."

He frowened angryly. He couldn't accept that someone would be hunt just because they had habilities that no one had. "It's not fair! Why you don't just kill them with your fire?!"

She widened her eyes asking herself what that child must had witness to think like that. "No, no, no, Jordie. Killing is never the right answer, and if I'd let myself thinking like it...I wouldn't be better than them."

He seemed to think about it, looking his shoes.

"You see Jordie, the worst moments of our life are the ones that build us. They make the person who we become in the future." she smiled sweetly. "Today I'm running away from them, tomorrow I'll know that I should never judging someone because different from me. Today I meet a little boy who is running away from something and tomorrow I hope he'll learn from my story and help to make this world a better place."

He didn't smile back, too focused on her words.

"I've spent most of my life thinking that I had no reason to live, no purpose. My family hate me for what I am, the children had always been too afraid of me to be my friends and looking around I understood I was alone." she took a deep breath. "Then, few years ago my little brother bornt, and from that moment on I knew that protecting him would have been my priority number one for the rest of his life."

"Where is him now?" an innocent question that made the girl shifting on her place a little.

"With our parents...they don't wish me to see him much. I think they are afraid of me infect him with my powers or something like that..." she scoffed ironically.

"Bullshit. A grisha can't infect someone else!" he esclaimed obviously.

"Yeah, say it to them." she laughed.

He studied her. Her short hair, her beautiful smile and her shining eyes that had a lot of stories in them not told. "You should go, before the bad people find you."

She looked him astonished. "I should look after you first. I can easily wait hid in a place until my pursuers grow old. Benefits of being a grisha, you have time." she shrugged, the ghost of a smile on her lips and he immediately knew that for that girl a long life wasn't a benedition.

"Go. Protect your brother Fire Girl, and maybe when I'll see you again you'll present me to him." she saw his first true smile on his face and her heart warmed.

"I am sure you will be very good friends." she stood up looking around carefully. "You sure you don't want to come with me? Or maybe want me to walk you somewhere? I have time."

He smiled standing before her. The boy was at the same height of her belly, but his eyes seemed older.

"I have still things to do, and people I need to find. " the last words said with rage.

"Take care of yourself, boy. Don't let the bad days winning your good ones, there is always light at the end of a tunnel; you only have to walk a little more." with a last smile she started to walk away before his voice stopped her again.

"Fire Girl! I'll grew up, and I'll find a job." she turned around looking him curiously. "I'll have money, a lot of them, and I'll find you. I'll hire guards, everywhere in the city, and you'll live peacefull, without have to worry about anyone anymore. Bring your brother, I'll protect him too. " he walked closer to her while some tears formed in her eyes. "You will be not alone anymore."

She stared at that little kid with the brightest smile he had ever seen. She sat on her tip toes in front of him again looking in his dark eyes. "You want an advise for someone who is around from a while? Having me around will only cause you problems..." she said sweetly. "But promise me something. When we'll meet again, and I am sure we will...you'll approach me. Maybe we will be in a bar, and I'll be sit at the counter. Come to me, I'll be the same so it will be easy for you to recognize me, and tell me your real name, alright?"

He widened his eyes surprised.

"I have a very good nose for lies." she winked playfully.

"I'll recognize you, but will you?...Regnonize me....?" he asked insecured.

She inclined her head studying him. No, probably not. "I happen to have a good memory for faces, but if I won't...hand me the handkerchief and I will know who you are."

He smiled shyly and she kissed his forehead like a big sister. She stood up again when he grabbed her sleeve.

"What is your name?"

She wanted to tell him, but it would have been too dangerous, so she just smiked looking at the boy. "You'll have to ask me at the bar."

The grisha girl disappeared in the shadow of the building, leaving the boy there who with years, he would never stop thinking about his promise and the misterious girl whose face he'll never forget.

[avenging-criminal-bones]

After All This Time || Chapter Five

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 2,146

Chapter Summary: Anger. And harshness, maybe feelings. I haven't decided yet so I guess you'll have to just read to find out.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: angst?, asshat hotch again, sad feels

A/N: Guys, I'm like legitimately so sorry that this chapter took so long. It's not even that I've been all that busy. I definitely did go to California for two weeks, but after that I think I just got lazy? Had writer's block? I don't know. But New chapter is UP.

TAGLIST:

@kingofthetwats @wanniiieeee @uwu-sebastianstan @piggyinthesea @yoshigguk @thatisthemagic @errorcosplay67 @ivebeenthinkingboutu @big-galaxy-chaos @rynfoxsleeps @phoenixsnape1 @mojofun @pachiibatt @enjoymyloves @thenewnormalforensicator @word-scribbless @zezezena @chelseyjoyce @ellyhotchner @lora21 @flipperpenguins @illegal-brains @sunnysaysbookreviews @anti-zippy-snoot @kya-li

You come to eleven hours later, the first thing that you hear being the steady beep of a monitor.

The hospital.

It smells... white, the cleanness of it making you scrunch your nose. Still not having opened your eyes, you sense the brightness, almost making you not want to at all.

However, you knew how hospital visits work. When Reid was injured, the whole team was there waiting for him to wake up. With that push, that you had people waiting for you to wake up, you opened your eyes.

Everything was too bright at first. You felt your lips fall into a grimace and joked aloud, "You guys don't need to be so quiet, she lives."

There was no response, and as your vision cleared up, the wind was knocked out of you like a punch to the gut.

Empty.

The whole room was empty. Aside from you and the TV, there was no talking. There were no people.

For a moment you thought that you were dead. Or maybe dreaming, because who wakes up from a seemingly severe injury with no support system? With no friends.

You hear your heartbeat speed up before you feel it, but boy do you feel it when it hits.

The monitor must send an alert to the nurses' station or something because shortly after, a small, black-haired woman rushes into the room.

"Agent L/N? Are you alright, is there any-,"

"I just- where- did my- wh-where is my team?" The stutter surprised you and you sat up fast, not realizing how prominent the pain in your abdomen was until it was too late. You let out a soft gasp, but looked at the nurse to hear an answer.

"Oh, uh, honey... I asked as they left and the tall, broody one said that there was an emergency." She walked up to you and turned a dial on your IV machine, gently asking you to lay down again.

You complied, not fully paying attention. Your mind was somewhere else; thinking about the harshness of your team, but you had to assume that this was Hotchner's doing.

"You alright, sweetie," the kind nurse asks, her name is Monica.

You nod slowly, your head feeling a lot lighter than it had when you woke up. "Yeah. I'm okay. Um, before you go can you hand me my phone?"

She nods, looking at you for where, and you gesture to the bag that's slightly out of your reach. Monica hands you both the phone and its charger, pointing to an outlet on the wall behind your head.

Nodding in thanks, you plug the charger into the wall and watch the kind nurse leave before unlocking your phone. You see immediately that you have five missed calls from your mother, and after further searching, you notice messages from Emily, JJ, and Penelope. JJ's was the most recent, so you open hers first.

JJ (BAU) 43 minutes ago.

Hey Y/N, In case you wake up before we get back, Hotch called our debrief meeting, so we all went back to the precinct. Sorry, hon.

xoxo JJ and the Girls

You didn't register the tears until they were falling down your cheeks. You sighed a bit and replied to JJ's message with a short, 'got it'.

As soon as you pushed the 'send' button, the door to your room opened again and your entire team rushed in.

Well, most of the team.

Really, everyone except one person.

You were quick to wipe your eyes, trying to hide the fact that you had been crying. JJ walked to the chair beside your bed and sat down, giving you the most gentle hug as she did.

"Did you get my message? Are you feeling okay? Do you need a nurse, any water?"

"JJ, you're momming her," Derek joked as he bent to give you a hug. "For real though, you feelin' alright, lil mama?"

You nodded, sending him a tight-lipped smile as Emily walked over to the other side of your bed, bringing Penelope with her on a video call.

Spencer even came by, but he looked relatively uncomfortable and stayed by the door.

Waving at him a bit, you say, "You can come in you know. I won't bite."

"I know, Y/N. I was just worried. Statistically speaking, you survived on an off-chance. The ratio was close to 83:17, and the bullet entered your abdomen in-"

"I get it Spence. I should be dead," you pause slightly seeing everyone's wide-eyed look at your bluntness, "BUT I didn't die, so everyone can stop looking at my like I'm going to break and just settle." You chuckle a bit and sigh as you see the rest of the team besides Spencer nod their heads or visibly relax their shoulders.

"You're right, kiddo," Rossi says quietly, "You're okay, and we can celebrate that."

"Thanks, Rossi." Smiling, you lean into his hand, which was cradling the side of your face for a moment. "Can someone get Hotchner please? I had some words that I'd like to have him hear."

JJ places her hand on your arm then and says, "Y/N, maybe that's not the best idea right now."

"No," you shake your head and make eye contact with her, "That's exactly what I need right now."

"Y/N..."

"Spencer, can you go get him please? He's just sitting out in the lobby, correct?" You snap a little harsher than you meant to.

The boy stutters a bit, but eventually nods his head and walks out of the room. The rest of the team shares a look before also walking out, giving you space for when your boss comes in.

Sitting up straighter in the bed, you even your mouth into a thin line just as Hotchner walks in the room.

"Am I off the clock right now, sir?" You don't miss the way his eyes flash to your lips but you choose to ignore it.

He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "Say what you need to say, agent."

"Who the hell do you think you are? Calling the debrief not only at a time where one of the team members can't make it, but when the team member is in the hospital with a GSW wound." Your voice rises steadily as you continue talking, but you have more to say. "Not only that, but you couldn't even be bothered to make sure I was okay when the debrief was over?" Subconsciously, you recognize the switch from a third-person mindset to a personal one, but you pay it no mind.

"Agent L/N, you-"

"No. You will call me Y/N, and I will be calling you Aaron. We aren't on the clock right now and you don't deserve my professionalism," the heart monitor spikes in tempo, and you throw the blanket off of your lap.

He quirks an eyebrow at you as you command him, but nods his head slightly, letting you be in control for the moment. "Go ahead, Y/N. You get whatever irrational anger you have towards me out in the open and we can deal with the consequences later."

"I left EVERYTHING for this job, Aaron. I left my mom, who never stopped grieving a lost son, I left my job there thinking this would be better, and I lost friends and people who actually cared about my well-being. People who wouldn't leave one of their own in an unknown hospital to wake up by themself, not sure if they were even actually alive since there wasn't anyone with them." You saw Aaron flinch with everything that you listed, but you didn't care. He needed to hear it. "So yeah, Aaron. I get to be angry, and you don't get to tell me it's irrational, because this is the most rational I think I've been this entire year."

"Y/N. You put not only yourself, but me, and the rest of the team in danger yesterday. Excuse me if I don't want to see you and be around you while you're in the hospital." Really, if burned Aaron to his core that he couldn't reach over and tuck the stray piece of hair behind your ear, because right now that's what he wanted to do. Except it's inappropriate and he's not sure you'd let him within three feet of you.

"NO! You see, that's not how it works. Are you telling me that if you saw a little boy with a gun trained on them, you wouldn't have done the exact same thing?" Hot tears fill your eyes, but you don't wipe them. You almost hope that him seeing you cry will make him feel bad, if even just a little.

Glancing at the way his jaw was set and how he clenched his fists in his lap, you knew he was struggling to keep his cool, so of course you pushed harder.

"What if it was Jack, Aaron."

"Dammit, L/N, it wasn't Jack. It was just some boy that we couldn't save. We shouldn't have been able to save him. You didn't use the training you had, and you didn't use the rational part of your brain. As terrible as that sounds, and trust me, I never want to lose a victim, if you had used the training from the bureau, we wouldn't have saved him. " Aaron stands up and paces the length of the bed then, feeling your eyes following him the whole time.

You shake your head as you let your gaze fall to your lap. "I wasn't going to let him die again... I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

Aaron's eyebrows furrow a bit and he looks at you with angry curiosity in his eyes, "Again? What do you mean by that?" That's when Hotch remembered earlier when you mentioned her mother who lost a son. "Y/N, did your brother... No. Actually, I'm sorry, just forget I said anything,"

There was a dark anger in your eyes as you shook your head. "No, Aaron. Ask me. Ask me this one question, and then reassess your profiling of me."

His gaze turned steely as he squared his shoulders again, showing no emotion in his voice as he spoke. He almost felt like the best way to approach you right now was as if you were the unsub.

"Was your brother murdered, Y/N?"

Dropping your head, you feel the tears burning in your eyes again and you nod. "He was only five. He had his whole life ahead of him. You'd think a child would be safe with a group of nuns or a priest, but no. Not even them. He was branded with a cross before he was killed and it's just unfair."

Aaron starts to walk closer to your bed, seeing the devolving pattern of your breathing, "Y/n, I'm so sorry, I-"

"No. Aaron, just, please go. I'll catch a flight home when I'm allowed to fly again, so you guys just go home and I'll figure it out. I mean, that's what I did when I was waking up by myself, right? Go ahead and fire me if you need to, suspend me, I don't care anymore, but I'll come back when the hospital says it's safe." You take a deep breath and watch as he turns away.

He gets all the way to the door before he turns back around and says, "What was his name."

"Joey."

Hotch nods and walks out of the door, remembering that the final victim, the one that you saved, was named Joseph.

After the encounter with Hotch you fell asleep. The heavy medication and the anger in your head knocked you out easily. You were asleep for a few hours, but you woke up when your pain medication wore off.

You noticed that your work phone had a few notifications, so you sat up a bit and looked through them.

There were two that stood out to you. The first one was a notification that read "Hotchner (Asshat) has added you to the group 'BAU Team'". The second was his message in that group chat.

Hotchner (Asshat) 2 hours ago

Hey team, change in plans. We will be staying here until Y/N gets cleared to fly. It should only be a couple of days and I know we were planning on flying out tonight. Sorry, Thanks.

As soon as you liked his message, your texts were blowing up from Emily. She was saying stuff about how "he totally likes you", and about, "you had a rough time on this case".

Also, apparently Derek saved all of his sarcasm for when Hotch got back, and the thought made you smile.

[eunoiaflow3r]

when worlds collide - h.p. x gn!avenger!reader

a/n: bahahahahaha no one reads harry x reader lmaoo you don’t have to tell me - i know. but still, i thought this was a cute idea and i went with it. hope you enjoy :)

not edited.

also: timelines don’t match up bc i don’t want to do the math so harry is like 20 - 21 and your like 19 - 20 in 2020. Civil War and everything on didn’t happen. Fred didn’t die.

gn = gender neutral

warning(s): “language!” - captain america.

word count: 3.1k

request(ed): no.

summary: stephen sends y/n to a strange new place with...wizards?

————————————-&—————————————

Never doubt Stephen Strange. That's something that pretty much everyone has accepted. Never second guess the wizard man. Usually you'd agree. Usually you'd just let the man babble about whatever he needed to and then go about your day.

Not now.

The fuckery.

Now you were here (wherever here was) after some flashes of orange and a "be careful." Did he even do the spell right? Is this really where you were supposed to be?

It was dark, and dirty and you just wanted to go home and not talk to anyone so you turned yourself invisible.

You were born with your powers - you think. You were adopted so you wouldn't know where your powers came from. All you know is that one day your parents couldn't find you, even though you were right there. Instead of thinking you were some kind of alien and throwing you out to labs, they helped you control it the best you could.

It was difficult at first, all things considered, but you got through. You discovered you had another power as well. Force fields. Those came in handy during the battles. (You helped where you could), and Tony Stark took you in afterwards as his own. He helped you create your suit, and your name, and discover more about your powers, he was basically a dad to you.

Your parents were a little hesitant letting you join the Avengers, but once they realized this is what you were meant to do, and you had people just like you protecting you, they couldn't keep you from that. They just couldn't.

So here you were, invisible, in some dark and creepy alley. There were doors either side of you, so you got out of the way considering they could open and smack you in the face at any given moment. You heard loud voices and laughing and cheering from both ends of the alley so you walked towards the one in front of you.

The voices were so loud and echoey that you really couldn't focus on anything else. Maybe that's why you didn't hear a boy behind you trip and fall into you from behind.

"I'm so sorry." he said helping you up.

You turned around to help him, he got awfully dirty, and searched for his glasses that fell off his face.

Once standing, he took out a stick, waved it over him, and all of a sudden the dirt and gravel was gone.

"How did you do that?" You were no stranger to magic, but this was something you've never seen before. And why would he do it in front of you? For all he knew, you were an unknowing human.

"What?" He asked eyebrows furrowed together, accent strong.

"With the stick."

He chuckled shoving the stick back in his cloak.

"The stick." He smiled and looked you up and down. "It's a wand. You must not be from around here."

"Yeah, what tipped you off?" You noticed the lightning bolt scar on his head. You wondered how he got it.

"The accent, the clothes, the inability to recognize a simple wand, the ability to be here, not recognizing me, and wait - where is your cloak?"

"Cloak?"

"You were just invisible a moment earlier but I don't see your cloak anywhere."

"I don't have one. I can make myself invisible without a piece of fabric or your fancy stick." You say sarcastically. Were you flirting?

"Handy." He grins. "The name's Harry Potter."

He holds his hand out for you to shake. "Y/N L/N."

He asks you if you want to talk somewhere besides a dark dirty alley. You agreed. It took some convincing though to let him use his stick to clean the clothes you had on, but to change your outfit to something less, standout-ish.

When you felt the witch hat on your head you immediately snatched it off your head and glared at him.

He just laughed.

Once out of the alley, you breathed in the now clean air, and was mesmerized. People were bustling in and out of small shops, animals were flying and chirping around their owners, children were running around with their friends and siblings, and people were waving sticks, or wands, just like Harry used.

"C'mon, this way." He smiled at your awestruck face. It reminded him of when he first arrived with Hagrid all those years ago.

He brought you inside a coffee shop, and sat you at a booth near the window knowing you'd probably want to still look outside at the new scenes.

After ordering, and a few moments of silence as you looked around, you decided to ask some questions.

"Where am I?"

"We're in Diagon Alley. It's like an outside mall."

"I mean like, planet? I guess?"

"Earth."

"Earth?"

"Well, more specifically London. Diagon Alley."

"London?! I'm in London?!"

"You've never been? To Earth? Or London?"

You rolled your eyes silently cursing Strange. "I'm from Earth. The United States, actually. I just wish he'd put me on a fucking plane or something instead of making it seem like I was going to Mars."

"He?" Harry was very curious.

You looked into his green eyes, your mind wandering. The guy in front of you was very attractive. His dark hair complimented his eyes, and his glasses made him even more attractive.

"You guys are wizards right?"

"Really? What gave you that impression?" He asks sarcastically. "The sticks, the pointy hats, or the big bowl with green liquid sitting outside?”

You rolled your eyes. "Very funny. It's not my fault you live into the stereotype of brewing potions in your cauldrons -"

"Oh well I can only assume you're one of those Avengers from the States, yeah?" He grins. "You guys are all over the news."

"Yes, sure -"

"And don't one of you wear capes and another shoot lasers or lightning or whatnot? Sounds very stereotypical to me."

You laugh as the waitress brings over your drinks and muffins. You thank her. "No, well yes, that's Strange and Thor, but that's besides the point -"

"Well of course it's strange." He grins and winks and you over his mug. He was purposely annoying you and found great joy in it.

"Anyway," you sigh getting back to the point. "Do you guys have a Wizard here, like a powerful, trusting, all-knowing kind of guy?"

His eyes dropped slowly and his smile dimmed for a moment before slowly widening once again.

"Had. His name was Dumbledore."

"Our guy is Stephen Strange. Or Dr. Strange. He sent me here, and I'm not sure why."

"Hmmm." He hums setting down his mug. "Are the states in danger? Were you sent here on a secret quest that would put you through tough trials that would risk your life but would ultimately save everyone you've ever loved so you just have to do it?"

You were in a silent shock. "Uhm. No, not that I'm aware of, no."

"Well then perhaps your Wizard Strange is playing matchmaker."

"Matchmaker?"

"Well you were sent here weren't you?" You nod. "Arrived outside the exact place where I was and I just happened to bump into you? Sounds like a set-up to me."

"Or a coincidence."

"I'd like to think it was fate that I bump into the most attractive person I've ever seen and they don't know who I am and won't judge me 'cause of my past." He took a bite of his muffin.

"Should I be worried?"

"I guess you'll have to figure that out yourself." He winks.

You decide to eat your muffin as well. It was a comfortable silence until you looked out of the window and noticed a guy crouching down behind a cauldron...with a camera.

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Why is there a man outside taking pictures of you?"

His eyes widened. "Oh shit." He whispered. "Here." He took out a baseball cap and put it over your head, hiding your face from the camera.

He gets out of his seat quickly pulling you along with him to the back of the shop but before you could say anything he had his wand pulled out.

Next thing you saw was a couch and living room.

"Wow." You panted. "What a way to bring a girl home."

"I apologise Y/N, I block them out so much I forget they're even there and now they've seen you, and have a story and -"

"Wait, wait, wait, are you wanted for murder or something?"

Harry walks over to his bookshelf and pulls out a rather large book. After opening up on the table, he waved his wand over it and beckons you over to read it.

'Boy who lived.'

'Golden boy defeats Voldemort'

'winner of Triwizard tournament'

And there was so much more… 'Harry Potter' in bold just strewn across the pages. His whole life story.

Your eyes widen at everything. "So both and neither. War hero. How come I've never heard of you? Or any of this?"

He smiles at the pages fondly, running his fingers across the letters and reminiscing on his times at Hogwarts.

"Unlike you Avengers, we like to keep our business private and quiet. We don't like prying eyes."

You scoff. "Not our fault we have alien invasions every year."

Harry agreed and for the rest of the night you sat on his couch talking and sometimes arguing, over every little thing. It felt like you two had known each other forever.

You're not sure when, but you fell asleep there and woke with your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your waist. You're not sure how the two of you ended up this way, and you realized you were practically strangers, but you didn't want to move. You just wanted to tangle your fingers through his dark hair.

But you didn't. Instead you stared at his closed eyes, and focused on his long, dark, eyelashes that fluttered a little from time to time. You thought about how you could get used to this. Waking up with his arm wrapped around you.

You told him last night that if he was actually a serial killer, and wanted to kill you that you had a whole team of people who would rip him limb from limb. He had no doubts and looked actually scared of your threat.

You thought about what it'd be like to live here among people like you.

Stomach grumbling, you decided to get up and see if he had anything you could make for him. It's the least you could do. His face turned when you left his arms, but you quickly pulled the blanket over him so he would be able to sleep a little longer.

You found his bathroom, and washed your face. In your backpack was a toothbrush and some toothpaste so you brushed your teeth, fixed your hair, and got dressed.

By the time you got out of the bathroom, you noticed Harry was still sleeping so you went into the kitchen and tried to find anything remotely close to breakfast foods. By the look of his inventory, you could tell he was very good at cooking but hadn’t been to the store in a while. He did have some eggs and toast though so you decided to make that.

In the middle of it, you got a phone call from Strange.

“Strange?”

“Harry Potter.” he says.

“What?” you were so confused as to how Stephen knew ANYTHING.

“You’re in his place, we've been tracking you.”

“So I guess we should probably have a talk about privacy? I don’t know, it just seems like something we should discuss you know? Cause usually people can respect that - especially people who just DUMP you here in the first place -“

“Calm down that’s what the mission was. While you were sleeping, we searched the place with a camera we put on you and he’s not who we thought he was. You completed the mission L/N. Great job.”

“Is he a danger?”

“Not necessarily. Just making sure your fine is all.”

“What -?”

He hung up.

Why wouldn’t Strange tell you his intentions? Why would he let you stay here if he thought Harry might have been a bad guy? Why would he risk that?

Right as you hung up Harry Potter walked into the kitchen with his lenses in between his shirt - he was cleaning his glasses.

His dark hair hung over his eyes but his eyebrows were raised.

“You made breakfast?”

“It was the least I could do. I didn’t mean to fall asleep but thank you for letting me stay.”

He smiled and put his glasses back on. In doing so his gray shirt lifted and you could see his abs. You turned away a blushed.

“It was no big deal. Thank you for making breakfast, love. You didn’t have to.”

You didn’t say anything and instead placed both of your finished plates on the dining room table. He followed you and sat down immediately digging in.

“These are the best eggs i’ve ever eaten Y/N thank you.”

You smiled in response but then frowned remembering your conversation with Strange. You should probably tell Harry.

“So,” you cleared your throat. “You were wrong.”

He gave you a look that meant “about?”

“Dr. Strange - the wizard I work with - he likes to check out potential threats and make sure that ya’know - the earth stays safe and everything. Je can kind of see the future and its propabilities. He did the same thing with Thor and his brother Loki.”

“Okay, go on.”

You cringed. “And so he called me and told me that he sent me here so he could see you? I don’t know I guess he saw you as a threat and wanted to make sure you weren’t.”

You looked at Harry but his face was clear of any and every emotion. He just continued to eat his eggs. It was silent.

You ate a bit at your eggs too until he spoke up which made you look up.

“I can’t say I’m very surprised honestly. With everything you guys manage to fuck up there I’d wanna know if someone else was about to create shit problems too.”

You sighed with relief. He wasn’t mad.

“I’m sorry really Harry, I didn’t even know.”

“No yeah it’s fine. I get it. I still think he sent you specifically for a reason though. There’s just no way we aren’t soul mates or something.”

“Oh shut up Potter.”

He smiled. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Gee your head must hurt.”

He squints at you jokingly. “You should let me take you out. I can show you around today. Y’know, so you can see what wizards are like.”

“Is this a date?”

His face flushes red and he looks down at his plate. “Yeah, yeah it’s a date.”

And a date it was.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Harry! Again?!” You practically screamed. Harry called it aparation but you call it hell. You let it go the first time but damn. He barely even warned you, just took your hand, held it tight, pulled you close, and waved his wand.

It was teleportation. Something you’ve never ever done before.

“Fucking hell Potter I’m going to murder you.”

“And Strange was worried about your safety? This is like your 4th time threatening to end my life and besides, it wasn’t even that bad.”

You rolled your eyes.

Throughout the day Harry showed you all sorts of things you’d never ever seen before. This consisted of every flavor jelly beans (and by every flavor they really meant every flavor), a chocolate frog, and never ending bubble gum. And that was just on the candy side.

He took you inside this joke shop ran by two of his friends from his old school he called hogwarts. They were twins that went by the names of Fred and George. The only twins you had ever met was Wanda and Pietro but telling the story of Pietro’s death seemed to sour Harry’s mood but excite the twins. The fact that he sacrificed himself for a little boy made him a hero in their eyes. They begged you to tell them more stories.

By the end of the day you went back to Harry’s place and you were exhausted. You can’t believe all that you’ve seen and eaten. How was this stuff even possible? How was it all hidden? You were amazed.

Harry was glad to see you had a good day and glad that he had met you. When you got back, he told you that you could stay another night...and perhaps in the bed instead of the couch. He hadn’t meant it in a dirty way but that didn’t stop you from laughing until tears came out of your eyes. He was so awkward at times. Once he had to ask if it was okay to take your hand while you were in the street and it was so cute how he couldn’t really find the words even for something as simple as hand holding.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

You both were laying in his bed facing the other.

“I had a lot of fun today. I feel like i’ve known you forever.”

He grinned from ear to ear and was glad that you couldn’t see him. He would have been beyond embarrassed if you’d seen how unmistakably happy that made him.

“I had fun with you Y/N. You’re great company.”

You were silent for a moment.

And another.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You were scared of his response and your heart was practically beating out of your chest. What if he was just being friendly? What if he just wanted to be friends? You would have made a huge fool of yourself. You were going to turn away embarrassed until his hand came up to your face and slipped onto your cheek. He was so warm. His lips pressed against yours for a moment and then he pulled away.

After a moment he reconnected and moved his lips against yours slowly. Your hand went to the back of his neck and toyed with his hair. He groaned into your mouth. You smiled and scooted even closer to him. All you could hear was the sound of your breathing and kissing. You didn’t want to pull away but you had to.

“Harry.” you said practically breathless.

“Yeah.” he was breathless too.

“I want to show you my world. You should come see New York.”

“Yeah? You wanna show me those alien invasions and robot attacks?”

You laughed and snuggled into Harry. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your neck.

“Mhmm.”

“I’d love to see it.”

Tags:

@romance-geek @gooseyhouse

[roselen-mylady]

the game | part two

Part One

Steve hated to admit it but he had always been a jealous person. As a child he was jealous of the way so many other kids had dads that tucked them in at night. As a teen he was jealous of how easily Bucky made women swoon. As an adult he was jealous of Stark when he attempted to woo Peggy. And now he was jealous because it seemed everyone but himself was able to easily talk and even kiss Y/n.

Oh how badly he had wanted to.

And he almost did during that game of spin the bottle. Yet he'd lost his nerve. And lost his chance.

Thor's laughter had drawn his full attention toward the pair. Not that his eye had ever left Y/n but now the man before him was blatantly being ignored as Steve's entire focus was on Y/n and Thor. He strained to hear whatever was being said by her but he could hardly pay attention as Thor lifted her into the air and spun her around like a princess.

He could've done that.

His blood nearly boiled as he watched Thor kiss her. It was innocent, he knew that, but he just couldn't help it. He was angry at the world and Thor but mostly himself.

Before Thanos he thought he'd have all the time he needed to work up to confessing his feelings for her while she stayed in Wakanda watching after his best friend. But when she was snapped away he realized he had made a horrible mistake. A mistake he regretted every minute of every day during those long five years.

But now he had a chance to fix it.

Yet he hadn't been able to talk to her since she returned. The friendship they'd had before then was bashful but strong yet during her absence he had distanced himself from the idea of her in order to cope.

When she returned all the emotions he felt came rushing back in waves. And he was still blowing it.

•••

"I'm so tired of watching these two pine after one another." Wanda spoke suddenly, making Bucky turn toward her, dragging his gaze away from the pair.

"What do you mean?" Bucky asked, looking back at them as Wanda came to stand at his side, watching them with him.

"You mean you haven't noticed? Y/n's in love with Steve. Steve's in love with Y/n. It's agonizing to watch, really." She sighed, rather vexed with the entire situation. It was her after all who had watched them through the years. They'd known each other ever since before the accords and all that time they'd had an awkward friendship in which feelings were obvious on both ends yet neither had the courage to act.

She hated to imagine how Y/n's death might've affected him but yet it still hadn't given him the will of the courage to act. It pained her to watch the two fall back into their old ways.

"Y/n loves Steve?" Bucky mumbled, disbelief evident in his features. Wanda nodded, her eyes trailing Y/n as she made her way to Peter, who was standing haphazardly close to Steve.

"More than life itself, though she'll never admit it. I saw it when I had to enter her thoughts years ago during a mission we had in Germany." Wanda explained. She remembered the overwhelming feeling of Y/n's emotions. They crashed into her stronger than any wave could and even after all these years they were just as strong.

"Then why haven't they done anything?" Bucky asked. He looked down at her finding the same lost expression on her face that was more than likely on his.

"I don't know. Y/n told me last week the same thing she told me all those years ago. Things are too complicated and she can't risk losing him if he doesn't feel the same." Wanda quoted Y/n, her annoyance seeping through her words.

Bucky scoffed, recognizing the excuse as something very similar to Steve's and he shook his head, feeling the same defeat Wanda did. "Just like them to be too stupid to be happy." He groaned, looking up at them.

"Yeah. But hopefully when he kisses her one of them will do something." Wanda hoped her statement might encourage their boldness.

"Unless it's a repeat of spin the bottle." Bucky said, dreading the chance that it might happen. Wanda cringed, shaking her head.

"Y/n won't allow it. She takes the game too seriously." She replied, more to convince herself than Bucky. It was true. Y/n would get Steve to kiss her whether it was for the win or her own motives. That is if her nerves didn't take over.

"Let's hope."

•••

"Well, if it isn't Spiderman." Y/n called out, grabbing Peter's attention. He smiled brightly, finally being called by his preferred name and not Spiderboy.

"Ms. Y/n! What-what are you doing here?" Peter's sore attempt at small talk made him wince but thankfully Y/n didn't seem to mind, looking down at his glass.

"Just mingling. Whatcha drinking?" She asked curiously, wondering if Tony had allowed the poor boy a drink while dealing with all the people who no doubt asked him millions of questions regarding his presence and age.

"Sprite. Mr. Stark said he can't allow me to 'drink and swing'." Peter adjusted his glass, using his fingers as quotations before letting out a short giggle at the phrase.

Y/n laughed as well, trying to appear relaxed as she felt a certain pair of eyes on her. Steve was standing just a few feet away with Tony, not within earshot but close enough to send butterflies to her stomach. With each kiss she collected she felt more and more anxious knowing eventually she'd reach Steve. Was she ready for that?

"Well, that simply won't do. It's a party, Peter, and I can't allow you to not drink. When I was your age Tony was slipping me drinks left and right, it's only fair I pass on the tradition." She explained, leaning forward carefully as her hand brushed his.

He blushed, his eyes widening like saucers as she skillfully slipped his glass out of his hand, replacing it with her own. Glancing at Tony as if expecting to be caught, he was relieved to find his father figure blissfully unaware of their treachery.

"Ms. Y/n, I really shouldn't-"

"Don't worry, I'll drive you home if you're that worried. I got you bro." Y/n promised, nudging his arm with a kind smile. "Now tell me you've at least tried champagne. You've been to like three of these parties now." She laughed her smile growing as he joined in.

"Yeah, well, I mean a little bit from my Aunt May's glass." Y/n shook her head, putting her hand on his shoulder, a dramatic look of sorrow on her face.

"My poor boy. I have many things to share with you. Speaking of which, Shuri is asking if you're coming with me to Wakanda next week." Y/n sipped the soda watching as Peter's fingers danced happily against his own glass.

"Really?! I mean, of course! If you want me to. I've never been, what's it like?" Peter rambled, his face lit up in excitement, making Y/n chuckle at how thrilled the boy was.

"You'll see soon enough. I'll come get you next Friday and bring your suit, I'm sure Shuri would love to tinker with it." Y/n advised. Peter nodded wildly, psyched for such a trip.

"Thank you, Ms. Y/n." Peter grinned. Y/n wrapped an arm around his shoulders turning him in the direction of where Tony was standing.

"Peter, Y/n is fine. Trust me, I'm one of the few people in this world who know what it's like to have Tony as a father figure and anyone who can handle that is okay in my book." Y/n laughed, pointing at the man in question.

As if sensing their shit talking, Tony turned around, catching sight of them. A suspicious glare was sent their way but Y/n could hardly notice it as another figure stepped into view, following Tony's gaze.

It was then that they were forced to look at one another head on. Not at a glance or a sneaky peek. They might as well have been standing in front of one another as they both froze.

If Y/n's heart decided to stop in that instant, she wouldn't blame it. The pure intensity of Steve's gaze was enough to make her shudder and she fought her every molecule to stare back. There was a warmth in his eyes, one that sent a flutter of giddiness through her.

A small smile crept onto his face and Y/n gasped, forcing herself to return the gesture and not just gawk at him. She was at a loss for words. It was the first time since Thanos that he had given her any sort of acknowledgement. While it hurt that their friendship had seemed to diminish while she'd been gone, she knew that rekindling it was a two way street. But now he was smiling at her. And she was smiling back.

She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until Peter stepped in front of her, his hands resting on her shoulders and his brows furrowed in concern. "Y/n? Are you okay?" His voice was soothing and it helped her recover her loss of breath from her moment with Steve.

"Huh? Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Just...uh, thinking." She mumbled, her eyes drifting back to Steve once more. His smile had faltered slightly, his face beginning to match Peter's concern but with a small curve of her lips, she assured him that his worry was senseless.

"About the game?"

"Hmm?" Y/n questioned, directing her attention to the boy once more. Peter eyed his glass carefully before taking a cautious sip.

"The game you play with Ms. Natasha and Ms. Wanda. You're playing, right? I saw you earlier with Thor." He explained. Y/n's face flushed, a little embarrassed that her moment with Thor had been witnessed by someone she knew. What if Steve saw? Would he be jealous?

Y/n nearly shook her head, convincing herself that she wasn't worth being jealous over. Especially to Steve.

"Oh, yeah. We are. That reminds me, you like Star Wars right?" She smirked, looking at him as she sipped his soda, the pink on his cheeks making her giggle.

"Well, yeah, I mean lots of people do. I'm not the only one-that would be weird. Unless you like it, not that you liking it would make it less weird. Not that you're not weird! Weird-"

"Peter!" Y/n laughed, putting her hand on his as she lightly brought the drink down. "Whew boy, maybe alcohol isn't your thing. Then again you've always been a rambler." She gently took the drink back from him, watching as a wave of relief washed over him.

"Have you eaten yet? I think there's hors d'oeuvres around here somewhere." She muttered, glancing around for any servers. Peter shook his head accepting his soda back before looking back up at her.

"No I'm okay, really." He told her, his heart warming at how much she seemed to care. It was nice and he enjoyed his relationship with Y/n. She allowed him to do things with her like travel, patrol, even hang out in the lab and she quickly became another idol of his.

"Are you thinking of watching Star Wars?" He asked her, referring to her previous question. She smiled, shaking her head.

"No, I've already seen it, I'm just thinking of a pick up line for the game. Tonight's rules are if you like my line I get a kiss and I fully intend on winning tonight." Peter nearly choked on air as his eyes widened yet again.

"A kiss? From me?" Y/n giggled, tapping her finger to her cheek.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Parker. A kiss on the cheek will do." She teased, making his face impossibly redder. He shook his head frantically trying to display as best he could that it wasn't his intention.

"I'm kidding. Now are you ready to hear my cheesy pick up line or will I just have to forfeit?" Peter's head didn't seem to stop shaking as he urged her to continue. "Alright here goes."

"Hey, sweetheart. Do you like Star Wars cause Yoda only one for me." With a wink she smiled, enjoying the scrunch of Peter's nose as he cringed at the line. 

"Not doing it for ya?" She laughed. Peter scoffed, trying to hide the smile that threatened to show.

"I hate to admit it, but it was kinda funny." He sighed, ashamed to have enjoyed such a horrible line. Y/n's grin grew, pointing to her cheek once more.

"Then pay up. I've got two more kisses to collect." Peter smiled, leaning forward and pecking the space her finger had been. "Thank you. Now find someone to mess with. I won't be the only one reeking havoc tonight." She poked a stern finger into his chest. With some convincing he eventually promised to at least pull a prank on Sam and Bucky.

With that she began to make her way to Tony. A knot formed in her stomach as she paced in his direction yet it wasn't Tony who made her nervous. No, only Steve Rogers could make her feel so squeamish and turn her legs to jelly. And she was making her way straight toward him.

Y/n could barely hear the click of her heels and the chatter of those around her over the pep talk she was giving herself in her head. She refused to embarrass herself in front of him. This was going to be her second chance and she wouldn't allow her nerves to ruin it again.

"As I live and breathe! Do I stand before Iron Man and Captain America? I do hope this isn't a dream." Steve's soft chuckle seemed to go straight to her core and she feared her heart might beat right out of her chest.

"Don't encourage her, Cap." Tony grumbled, turning his gaze to Y/n. "Well, if it isn't my favorite niece."

"Your only niece." Y/n corrected, a short glare focused on him as he smirked.

"Let me guess you're here to win the game. Let's hear it so poor Cap here can get a turn. I don't think he's kissed a woman since the 40s." Tony leaned down, whispering the last part and making Y/n giggle.

"Hey!" Steve objected in vain. But what Y/n said next sent any duty to protect his pride out the window.

"That's a crying shame. The ladies must not know what they're missing." Y/n froze as the words left her mouth. What was she thinking? Her face burned and she hid behind her glass trying to muffle her embarrassed groan with her champagne.

"Jeez, get a room." Steve and Y/n both glared at Tony but he didn't seem to care, instead shrugging innocently.

"Alright, here's your line you impatient ass." Y/n scoffed, deciding to use a particularly bad line for the annoying man she dared call her father figure.

"Was that it?" He smirked.

"Shut up, I gotta turn around and approach this again or else it won't work." She hissed, earning a heartfelt laugh from Steve. Twice. She'd made him laugh twice. Her heart was practically singing at the thought. Maybe she'd actually get to kiss him?

With more determination than before, she turned around, taking a few steps away before dramatically turning back to them. Using theatrics she no doubt learned from Tony Stark himself, she put on a smile before holding her arms out in a grand gesture.

"Well I'm here, what's your next two wishes?"

"That was horrendous." Tony said almost immediately while Steve tried to contain his laughter behind them.

"Well, I couldn't very well waste my best lines on you now could I?" Y/n jested, taking the glass in his hand and pouring what remained of his drink into her now empty glass.

Tony's teasing expression fell as he painfully watched Y/n sip her glass. "I can't believe you're related to me." Y/n smiled back at him proudly.

"Only by marriage." She shrugged. Tony sighed, leaning down and pressing a fatherly kiss to her forehead just along her hairline.

"Thank god." He ignored Y/n's squinted stare, turning to Steve. "I think I'm going to go get another drink, since mine was so blatantly stolen." Tony glanced at Y/n who shamelessly smirked.

"But first I wanna hear your pick up line for Cap. Please be something patriotic. Maybe sing him the national anthem." He suggested, nudging Steve forward to where he stood before Y/n.

Not expecting Tony's push, Steve stumbled nearly crashing into Y/n but thankfully he caught himself, only having a redder face than before.

"I'm not sure the national anthem is a pick up line, Tony." Y/n replied, focusing on anything but Steve. At this distance she could smell the familiar cologne and feel the heat radiating from him. It reminded her all too much of the days before the snap. When he'd hold her whenever she was hurt or when he'd pick her up to launch her toward an enemy. Reminded her of the few hugs they'd managed to share.

Reminded her of their last before she dusted in his arms.

"I don't know. He's really horny for America, it might work." Tony refuted, earning a threatening gaze from both Steve and his niece.

"Fine, y'know what? Have privacy or whatever in the middle of this crowded party. See if I care." Tony said, a little butt hurt that he wouldn't be able to witness the awkward exchange first hand.

He was no idiot when it came to his niece's attraction to the super soldier. While at first he disapproved, even more so when it led to her being on the opposite side that day in Berlin, years had led to forgiveness. He couldn't really stay mad at her even if he tried. Only sorry he hadn't apologized before the snap.

"Thank you, Tony." Y/n spoke quietly, sending him a grateful look. Whatever was about to happen already made her nervous, she didn't think doing it with Tony there would be possible.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved a dismissive hand, beginning to walk away.

It wasn't until he had Morgan that he realized he was already a father. Y/n had been his first and no matter his guilt, she would always forgive him. Always need him.

"Don't get carried away." He threatened suddenly, pointing to his eyes before twisting his hand back to them with a menacing squint.

Y/n rolled her eyes, looking back to Steve as Tony finally left.

"He's protective." Y/n explained, trying to be annoyed. It was actually kinda touching the way he cared despite his usual selfish smartass exterior.

"For good reason." Steve agreed, making Y/n's head tilt confused.

"You think I can't take care of myself?" She questioned defensively, ready to prove her worth no matter who he was.

"No, of course you can. Just-..." He trailed off, a sorrowful expression taking hold of his features against his will. "We've both failed you before. Numerous times." Steve confessed, his eyes falling downcast as Y/n realized what he'd meant.

She’d never truly thought about how her absence might have affected him. Before the snap he never gave any hint that he wanted to be more than a friend to her. But now she studied that look in his eye, that one she hadn’t recognized before. Heartbreak. 

"Steve, you didn't fail me." She insisted. Her hand had come to his own, grasping lightly at his loose fingers and ignoring the buzz in her skin and the rapid pace of her heart.

"No, I did. I turned you against your family. I got you arrested. I dragged you back into the fight and...you got snapped away." His voice broke at the end, years of depression and misery washing over him all over again.

"It wasn't your fault. We all lost that day." Y/n argued but her words didn't seem to stick.

"I'll never forgive myself." Steve's words were barely above a whisper, each syllable falling further into him unable to escape.

The sight alone made her heart ache but it was the way he'd spoken that truly shook her. They were the words of a broken man, a man that had lost it all. Had she done that to him? Did he care about her like that? Maybe he was scared too.

“Well, it's a good thing I already did.” Y/n smiled hoping to bring back the smile that she'd been able to give him moments before. Her hand stayed planted to his own more terrified to release it than she was to keep holding it. Would she ever work up the courage to do it again?

Steve looked back up at her, a tender glimmer in his eye as he moved his hand to hold her own. “I missed you.”

The statement alone wasn't nearly enough to convey how much he'd longed for her in those five years, left without any hope of ever getting her back. Didn’t show her the sleepless nights or the endless tears. Didn’t show her first few years he spent, alone and secluded. Didn’t show her how many times he prayed to any god that would listen for them to bring her back. 

But her eyes seemed to tell him that she understood. Y/n knew exactly how he felt even if she'd been relieved of it for five years. She remembered when she was arrested, screaming at the guards that they'd never find Steve. Remembered the sobs that racked through her when he came to free her, relieved he’d made it out of the war safely. Remembered their time on the run, unable to tell him how she felt. Remembered volunteering to stay with Bucky when Steve's worry became too much. Remembered him coming back and bring a war with him. Remembered him catching her before she dusted, too fast for her to tell him her greatest truth. 

She loved him.

“I missed you too.” She said softly, her face burning under his gentle gaze. They’d become so unbearably close at that point, making her breath ragged and her heart race. 

Clearing her throat, she looked away, trying not to reveal how flustered he made her. “So do you wanna hear my pick up line or not?” She once again changed the subject, making Steve smile at her lovingly. 

“Definitely.” He replied. 

“Alright. On a scale of 1 to America, how free are you tonight?” She gave him the first one that came to find, silently groaning when she realized she'd done exactly what Tony suggested. Curse their horribly similar minds. 

"That's terrible." Steve chuckled, staring at her with adoration unlike he'd ever done before. She was absolutely perfect in his eyes and he refused to waste anymore time being scared. 

"You didn't like that? I have more." Y/n rambled, oblivious toward Steve's affectionate gaze. "Can I tie your shoes? I don't want you falling for anyone else." 

Steve laughed, shaking his head as he stepping forward and shifting his hand to her waist as he pulled her closer. 

The action on flustered her further, dragging another pick up line out of her. "Or I like your last name, can we share it?" 

Steve's smile grew, his heart swelling with each word. He loved listening to her lines even if they were cheesy. But he was determined now and he wouldn't let either of their nerves stop them anymore. 

"I lost my number, can I have-"

Suddenly he leaned forward, cutting her sentence short as his lips latched onto her own. 

The kiss was so tender she practically melted in his arms, her hand coming to his chest while the other shifted to behind his neck, her fingers filtering through the lower part of his hair. His grip around her waist tightened as his heart pounded under her palms, the aftermath of anticipation rushing through his chest. 

It was effortless the way they molded together and it left him breathless. He couldn't believe he'd never just kissed her before and after believing all these years he'd never get the chance to, he was so grateful to have her now. 

"I've waited too long for that. I think I'm gonna need interest." Y/n gasped as they pulled away her eyes half lidded as she tried to process what had happened. 

"Was that another pick up line?" Steve's brows furrowed, his lips a beautiful shade of darker pink. 

Y/n smiled up at him, pulling him close once more. "Shut up." 

••• 

"Who's gonna tell her she didn't win?" Wanda questioned suddenly, glancing over at Nat. 

Sam raised his hands in surrender, passing off the duty as soon as possible to avoid any type of rage the woman might've wreaked on him. 

"I don't think she'll really care at this point." Nat spoke, pointing a finger toward the couple across the room. 

They didn't seem to care that they were in a room full of people, instead remaining engrossed in each other as they stared at each other lovingly. It was touching really but what Nat assumed to be their confessions had lost Y/n the game. 

"Wait does this mean the games with stop?" Sam questioned suddenly. 

"No, it'll just make them more interesting." Nat smirked.

[maniax-and-demons]

Daisuke was sat down on a bench, near the middle, most bustling place in the city. Even in the deep, writhing nature of the night, many a soul found themselves in the streets and allies of the city. It was the capital of a grand empire after all, if it sought to conquer the stars, surely it must find itself bustling here at least.

Daisuke wiped tears from his face as he waited for the bus to come. He felt ashamed as his mind drifted through thought. 'It's my fault they got captured, I'm the reason that those things took my friends!'

As he thought to himself though, another voice shattered through the deafen silence of his thoughts, one from outside his own mind spoke to him aloud, yet seemingly responding to his thoughts.

"You're the member of that team are you not, the one who fought Lilith and her partners?"

The man who responded was somewhat dark skinned, somewhere ambiguously between a tan and having genuinely dark skin. He had semi-lomg shaggy hair, a thick and mid-length beard, he was dressed in relatively casual attire, a black shirt with the logo of a band Daisuke didn't recognize, and some jeans. Though the thing that drew the most attention to Daisuke was his eyes. They had a piercing gaze, they demanded attention, his whole presence did, yet the man seemed invisible to the people around him, the man even moved towards Daisuke, bumping shoulders with a few people on the street as he approached, yet they didn't even react.

"How in the world would you know that-" Daisuke was quick to speak, but the stranger was even quicker to respond.

"It's part of my powers, clairvoyance to be exact." The man sat down on the bench next to Daisuke. On second look, he was rather tall, easily six foot, he practically towered over the 18 year old that Daisuke was. "Will you just hear me out, afterwards, I will get all out of your hair."

Daisuke reluctantly, yet instinctively trusted the man. Something about him mystified Daisuke and he couldn't put a finger on how it was that he did. "Alright, I'm listening, what's the deal?'

The man smiled, though it was a little hard to tell through his beard, his hair seemed almost dirty in the way it looked, though it was paradoxically also clean. "I can get you to Lilith's Realm, only catch is you can't bring anyone with you and I won't help you past there.'

Daisuke looked baffled at the statement, he was in utter disbelief, "Like you could even do that. That place is impossible to be get to, she's a God, anyone who she doesn't want in there is gonna get instantly booted out of there."

"Not for people like us, or I guess I should say, not for people like you." The man spoke with a sense of knowledge, awareness that was unparalleled by anyone Daisuke had ever heard with the exception of maybe Lilith or the King himself.

"What do you mean?" Daisuke's curiosity took over, he craved to know more.

"You got a crown of storms over your head, you also got that little spirit of rebellion in you, you could definitely resist that realm for awhile. Plus, they did say they were after you too, didn't they?'

Daisuke was about to agree, but stopped himself in suspicious, "I mean yeah, but do you really think that would be enough?"

"Absolutely. She's a God, she's the type to think she can take whatever she wants. You just gotta take away what she has."

"My friends..."

"Bingo kiddo." The man cracked his knuckles.

Daisuke had gathered all the will in his body to ask this next question, it took everything he had to do it, "Why do I trust you?"

"We're creatures of the same breed, Daisuke. It's only natural you would trust me, just like how a human would trust another human in a time of need." He stood up and gestured for Daisuke to follow. "Enough waiting around, we ought to go now, no point in asking anything else until you get your friends."

Daisuke was hungry for more knowledge, but he also conceded that getting his friends was more important now than learning about the stranger. He stood up, "Alright, let's go."

And so the stranger lead Daisuke into the alleyway, deep enough to where no one on the streets would see. The man simply waved his hand and a portal appeared, it was like it was second nature.

"I will close this portal once you enter." He pulled out an odd piece of technology, it was similar to a detonator switch in appearance. "You use this once you got your friends and it will pull you all back here."

"Okay." Daisuke took the switch, and looked towards the portal, speaking one last time before entering, "Thank you."

Daisuke entered the portal, and when he did, it close behind him. He had entered Lilith's Realm.

[alliterative-albatross]

So, I sent you (@disgruntledspacedad) a pretty long ask a while ago (back when you had anon on) and I'm decently sure Tumblr ate it (or maybe you ignored it, in which case, feel free to ignore this one as well). But then I saw one of those "writers appreciate feedback no matter how long" posts, so I'm back here. Here is my mediocre attempt to rewrite my original review of your work. Bear in mind that English is not my first language, so if at any point my phrasing sounds weird to you, you know why. Mandatory disclaimer/apology: this might get a little too long 😅

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

I remember being SO mad at myself for not finding this sooner. I binge read it one afternoon with no thoughts for any real life responsibilities I might have had (and no regrets). Javiears is one hell of an unconventional relationship in the beginning, and I really love what you did with them. The whole premise of your story is quite refreshing, and you somehow manage to convey the trust and mutual respect there two feel for one another without explicitly showing us the beginning of their "entanglement".

Also, fuck you for what you did to poor Emilio, that man was a saint and he deserved better! I honestly can't believe that I got so attached to a character that appeared so little in the story, but it happened, and his death kind of broke my heart.

But the Javiears reunion + mild confession was lovely, and felt completely deserved. And of course the sex scene. I won't lie, I expected a bit better from Javi there, but I did like how utterly /human/ it was. Capturing that humanity, the imperfections in each character is something you're really good at (more on that later).

AFTERSHOCKS

Ah, my emotionally constipated babies who really need to work out their communication issues. I do love them, though. And this short series did a really good job of delving a bit deeper into Ears's and Javi's psyche. Kudos to you for dealing with the medical "aftershocks" of living through an explosion AND using that experience to move your emotional plot forward. These two need to grow a lot before they can get to a stable point in their relationship, and you really manage to convey their insecurity and fear of commitment/intimacy while making it clear that they're in it for the long run and that theirs is a relationship that WILL work out so help them God.

IF I FALL

Ouch. Punch me in the gut while you're at it, why don't you?

But seriously, "If I Fall" is SO FUCKING GOOD. Don't get me wrong, it's angstier than an image of Jesus on the cross (don't judge me, it's Holy Week and I just got home from accompanying my grandma to church), but it somehow works beautifully. You, my dear, play heartstrings like they're a fucking guitar and I AM HERE FOR IT.

You're doing an amazing job at making me feel everything these characters are feeling, which is both awful (bc pain) and impressive.

Also, if anything happens to Ana I will cry, because she is adorable and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also, if anything happens to Ears I will cry, because she is badass and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also also, if anything happens to Javi I will cry, because he is loving and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Basically, I am really invested in the well-being of these characters and can't wait until they're happy and safe again (please tell me they will be, my heart can't handle much more pain).

A quick note on the angst complaints: yes, this story is way angstier than most other fics out there and it can be a bit too much at times, especially considering how many chapters of pain it's been. BUT it's obvious that "If I Fall" NEEDS this amount of angst to get where it's going, to send the message it wants to and to properly develop its characters. The pain is as important to this story as flour is to bread. You may not like eating flour on its own (I don't think anyone does), but you love bread (because bread is amazing) and you must recognize that bread NEEDS flour to work. It wouldn't be bread otherwise. And eating the flour as part of the bread even makes you like the flour because the bread is just DELICIOUS.

I fully understand and sympathize with the people who have elected to table "If I Fall" until it's completed so they can binge read it knowing there's a happy ending in sight, but in case you're feeling a bit self conscious about all the angst, please know that your story is beautiful not in spite of the pain, but rather /because of it/.

PS: No, I'm not high/drunk, I just really like bread

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Silly thing to comment on, I know, but I do feel like it's important that you know how useful your ANs have been. There are many details in the story that I simply wouldn't fully get without reading your comments at the end of each chapter, and I appreciate your writing a hell of a lot more knowing how deeply you understand and care for each one of your characters. Plus, it is obvious how much work you've put into researching a country and a time period that are (from what I gather) unfamiliar to you, and I really do believe you've done an amazing job of it.

JAVIER PEÑA

My boy. I love your characterization of this complicated character, and I have eagerly read each and every one of your headcanons about him. I can't really say if your version is fully faithful to the source material because it's been a while since I saw Narcos, but your Javi most definitely reads like a real person. He's fairly consistent as a character, and I feel like everything he does is perfectly natural for him to do as a character. He makes for an unconventional yet deeply interesting romantic lead, and so far I have thoroughly enjoyed all his POV chapters/scenes.

OCs

I know you've gotten some flack for making her into an OC halfway into the story, and while I get why the sudden change may have felt like a disappointment for some, I don't share that sentiment. I firmly believe that this fandom is unfairly harsh towards Original Characters and their creators, and I don't really understand why. Listen, I love Reader fics, and consume many Reader fics. I have read dozens, maybe even hundreds, and I can safely say that I've only ever "inserted" myself in approximately 10% of those stories. Reader characters are not as blank as their writers may want them to be. They can't be. They're characters, and character have personalities and moral values and senses of humor and a bunch of other things. Reader characters may not have a backstory or a physical description attached (and even that's not guaranteed), but they're still characters.

And on a more personal note, pretending they're actual blank slates is naive at best and insensitive at worst. Reader characters are American coded 99% of the time, and white coded 95% of the time. Not every readers is white nor American, even if that's the predominant demographic on Tumblr. When I read a JavixReader fic about a woman who speaks exactly zero Spanish, I know she's not me. The story may be beautifully written and have an amazing plot and character development, but the Reader *isn't me*. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, and some of my favorite xReader stories feature a "reader" who couldn't be more different from me, but it's something that enemies of OC fics should take into account. Particularly if they are white and/or American. But I digress.

HANNAH AARONS

Your character is amazing. She's strong, smart, confident, independent and an all-around badass. She gets kidnapped while pregnant and still focuses on problem solving and survival. But she's also overly guarded and mistrustful, and really needs to work on her communication skills. There are times when I absolutely love her and even admire her, and other times when I want to whack her with a slipper. She's no Mary Sue, but remains interesting and likeable throughout the story. She feels wholly human and real, and that's no easy task. I like her, I am invested in her, and I can't wait to see what's next for her. She's a compelling and three dimensional protagonist in a complex story who never fails to draw me in. I love her. She's your baby, and you should be proud of her.

Also, quick question about personality types: I know you've typed Javi as ESFP and Ears as ENTP (100% agree on both, btw), but have you given any thought to their enneagram types? I personally have always seen Ears as being somewhere on the thinking triad, maybe a 7 or even a 6w7, but I'm not too sure about Javi. 9w8 maybe? He could also be a 6w5 🤔

PARTING THOUGHTS

Basically, I love your story, your characters and your writing in general. You are a fantastic storyteller and wordsmith. You get into the heads of incredibly different characters personality-wise (Ears, Javi, Berna...) and manage to capture all of their complexities and quirks every single time. And it doesn't feel like it's something innate for you either. To me, it seems that you have put a lot of work and effort into understanding each and every one of your characters, who they are, why they do what they do and what they want. And let me tell you, all that effort has been more than worth it. "Better Love" is a fanfic, but it wouldn't be out of place in a regular bookstore, if I'm honest. I don't know what you do for a living or if you've ever considered writing professionally, but you clearly have the skills and the drive to create some masterpieces.

You are amazing and your writing is a gift. Thank you for sharing it with us, and have a nice day! ~ 🍪

~

My friend, I apologize for hoarding your first ask. I’ve been sitting on it because I’m not gonna lie, I enjoy going back and rereading it. It gave me a lot of comfort when I was in a pretty dark place, both personally and in regards to my writing, and I was reluctant to send it out into the the abyss of Tumblr where I might never see it again. 

That’s not fair, though. You put just as much effort into sending me that review as I put into my writing, and I apologize for never responding to you.

Okay, anyway, so twice now, you’ve made me cry. In a good way, I promise! 

I absolutely love your bread/flour metaphor. It made perfect sense. I want the emotional release of Javi and Hannah’s reunion to be earned, and in order to do that, the angst has to come first (there are also a few plot “ingredients” that have yet to make their appearances). Thank you very much for understanding that, and for voicing it so eloquently.

I appreciate your comments on my research and characterization. You’re correct that I’ve put a lot of time and effort into crafting a universe. In a lot of ways, I’m doing my best to stay true to the source material (regarding culture and timelines in particular), and in others, I’m branching into my own territory. 

On that note, I’ve never once regretted fully embracing Hannah Aarons’ identity as an OC. She’s stayed consistent in my mind from the beginning, and it was a relief to finally share my vision of her with the audience. And for the record, I totally agree with you regarding “reader” characters. Every reader insert echoes the perspective of their author, no matter how vague the physical description. I can only imagine how grating that must be from the perspective of a non-white, non-american reader. Thank you so much for sharing your insight! I will certainly keep it in mind the next time I write a “reader insert” fic.

Okay, enneagrams! I am much less familiar with enneagram than I am MBTI, but I agree 110% that Javi is a 9 with a strong 8 wing. I waffled back and forth on Ears a little, but eventually landed on 8w7 for her. It came down to the eight’s deepest fear, which is being controlled. That’s Ears all over, and the fact that she and Javi share that eight willfulness means that they might butt heads a little, which also seems very appropriate for them. Big thanks to @remusstark for her insight into the eight frame of mind - our conversations helped solidify my decision on this. :)

Anyway, I’m just rambling now. The big take-away point that I want you to get is that I am so, so grateful to you, both for your insightful feedback and your dedication in making sure that I actually saw it. You are an absolute gem and a deep thinker, Cookie-Anon, and if you ever feel like sliding into my DM’s, I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know you better.

Mad love and soft hugs, 

~ Jay

[indigobackfire]

Phoenix Lazar Nobleworth Silverwood

Below is a lengthy history of his parents, their involvement with dragons, and how he lost them.

Ps: I tried adding some Scottish dialect in the dialogue, but I'm not the best at it considering all I have as reference is my love for James McAvoy and Outlander. Forgive me in advance for any atrocities lol. Also, diverging from canon especially in relation to Veela powers and physical descriptions.

Phoenix's father, Emilian, was sorted into Gryffindor and with pride, he was a Gryffindor by the book, adventurous, brave, often reckless, fun, with a strong sense of protection over his friends, someone who valued courage and honor.

Emilian didn't know how he and Palmer Silverwood - Slytherin, pureblood, much more popular than him, and one of the best duelists in their year - became friends, he also didn't know how Palmer found an about to hatch dragon egg in the forbidden forest, or how he even got into the forbidden forest to begin with, but being who he was, Emilian wasn't much surprised.

The biggest surprise was that Palmer even knew who he was.

Emilian takes a peek into Palmer's robes where the egg is hidden. "So? You're the dragon laddie, Nobleworth."

"Yeah, it's a dragon egg. Common Welsh Green this one." He looks up. "And is that what people call me?"

"Are ye really surprised? You talk about them all the time, yer the best in Care of Magical Creatures, and ye have a dragon painted at the back of yer bloody robes."

"Only fair. McGonagall hates it."

Palmer laughs. "Will ye help me?"

"Aye. But what ye want me to do?"

"I dinna ken. I just don't want the wee dragon to die. The poor creature wasn't warm when I found it so it's probably motherless. I mean... they fire up their eggs, don't they?"

Emilian smiles. "You're not as unknowledgeable as you think, Silverwood. Let's go somewhere more private."

In the humid and dusty air of the artifact room, they hide. "Hand me the egg."

Palmer hands him the egg delicately as if the creature inside it wasn't one that could eat them both in a bite when grown. And for a moment Palmer wonders what he'll do, but Emilian just stands there holding the egg. And as he's about to question him, he sees Emilian's fingers get bright red.

"Mate? What's wrong with yer hands?"

Emilian snickers. "I have a secret, can you keep it?" Palmer nods eyes fixated on the egg whose cracks were very slowly growing. "I'm half Veela and whilst I can't throw balls of fire from my hands... I can heat it up to... oven temperature."

"Oven temperature?"

Emilian smirks. "Ah dinnae have exact numbers, but if ye want to give a touch."

Palmer looks at his hands again. "Nae. They're as bright as molten glass, lad."

Emilian raises his eyebrows. "Oh, I felt it move."

"Ooohh, it's gonna set this tiny room on fire."

"Let me hide it this time. I ken a place we can go. The person ye should've gone to in the first place."

Palmer widens his eyes. "Kettleburn, nae."

"Silverwood, ye cannae keep the dragon. It'll set you on fire before completing one year."

Palmer puffs as they walk out of the artifact room. "If the dragon enthusiast dinnae want to keep a real dragon, why would I?"

"A dragon lover is the same as a bee lover. You can appreciate the honey, the lovely stripes, but if ye hold it in yer hand, it'll sting you. Dragons were made to live outside, flying, spitting fire. A wee dragon is cute, but once is grown..."

"Yer a curious lad, Nobleworth." Emilian gives an awkward half smile. "I like you."

Their friendship was as unexpected to them as it was for the bystanders, but one that sustained for their last two years in Hogwarts - including Palmer's girlfriend, Clarin, an uptight but curious Ravenclaw, who despite her best instincts followed behind on the boys' adventures.

When Emilian announced he would be leaving England for the Dragon Sanctuary in Romania a couple of years later, as much as Palmer and Clarin expected that to happen, it still came with the bittersweetness of watching one of their best friends go.

Years go by, but still, their bond sustains time and distance. Every opportunity they had, the SIlverwoods would travel to Romania to visit their friend who in a lighting in a bottle chance found himself a wife of "his kind".

Full Veela, Antonia Lazar, practically raised herself as her father left her mother, a temperamental full Veela woman, to deal with Tonia herself, a task she delegated to her equally careless family members, closely involved with the Dragon Sanctuary in times the place was still informally managed.

When Emilian meets her, barely wearing rags over her body, barefoot on the grass, pearl blonde hair unruly, looking as if she was raised by wild house elves, he couldn't help his heart hammering in his chest. Female Veela beauty wasn't something he was unused to, considering his mother and aunts were ones as well, but when Antonia was before him he thought of himself before a goddess.

Emilian tries not to spill the water in the heavy buckets while Antonia doesn't seem to be struggling at all. He wouldn't have a need to even carry them if he hadn't forgotten his wand, but at least he got to be alone with her.

"Why is it that ye dinnae like us?"

"You English think you run the place just because you read about dragons in a book, think you know more than us who grew with hundreds of them." She shoots him firey eyes. "Know when I first rode a dragon? I was five years old!"

"I never say I doubted yer capacities. And I'm not English, I'm Scottish." She glares at him again. "I'm kidding."

"Don't get me angry, you won't like it me angry. Trust me."

"I would actually. I wonder what color yer feathers would be."

"I'm sorry?"

"I ken a Veela when I see one. Especially cause I'm half one."

Her expression soothes a little. She puts the bucket down and grips his hand. "Go, do your magic."

While his hand goes as hot as they can, his eyes slowly change hues to match her, never breaking eye contact. "It's nice touching a girl who doesn't mind a more... ardent touch."

She gives a small smile. "You're pathetic."

"I'd love to fly on a dragon's back with someone who understands about them. I promise I'm not here to mock or doubt you. I love those creatures more than anyone I know."

She lets go of his hand and with a smirk picks up the bucket. "Well, now you know me."

Their relationship quickly becomes stronger as they spend day after day together. The work at the Sanctuary is as rewarding as it is tiring, so at the end of long days, they would sit together and exchange stories, her of her buckwild childhood and him of his years in Hogwarts. In each other's company that they find an air of normality and peace.

After recognizing and accepting her strong feelings for Emilian - something hard considering how men had treated her before, seeking what she had to offer them more than considering her needs - and finding out he felt the same for the longest time, they decided to marry, her seeing in him a sense of stability for the first time in her life.

It doesn't take long until Antonia is pregnant with their first child, and in the pool of genes and possibilities, their first-born boy is a full Veela like his mother, something uncommon for boys. Not considering what would be 'formal' or well accepted, Antonia decides to name him Phoenix for encompassing what being a Veela means to her, a bird of elegance and fire and perseverance.

And as if it was pre-destined, just a couple months prior, Clarin and Palmer had given birth to a girl of name just as uncommon, little Indigo Silverwood, who is but three months old when they come to Romania to meet little Phoenix.

To this day, the Silverwoods wonder if their timing was the best or worst it could've been.

As in the same week they came to visit, an attack happens with the intent of capturing as many dragons as they could from the reserve, something that had happened times before but this time much better planned and heavily armed with the best wizards they could get.

They start picking up their wands in haste while seeking the fire protection potion they had brewed specially for this trip back at home. "What do they need dragons for? Can't they breed their own." Clarin asks.

"Is not like is legal or easy to do so." Antonia has her eyes soaked with tears. "They don't care about the creatures, they want money. Oh, they use their blood to make spot removers. Oven cleaners! How can you take a marvelous creature and turn it into such a pathetic thing? Then they use their hearts in you wizards stupid wands and their skin into gloves!"

"Somebody must have heard about the new Chinese Fireball," Emilian says, "People seek the gold in their horns and eggs, but if you pull them out, they die."

"Not to mention the baby Romanians. Put your goddamn boots on already, Emilian!"

"What 'bout the bairns?" Palmer asks anxiously.

"There's no time. They probably ain't getting all the way up here, but in all cases." Emilian grabs the potion from Clarin's hands turning over Jacob's and baby Indigo's mouth, knowing the fire wouldn't do harm to Phoenix. He places something in Jacob's little hand. "Jacob, if any mean person comes trying to hurt ye, throw this at their feet and run. Alright?" Jacob nods, eyes wide with fear and excitement of a five-year-old.

"What is it?" Palmer asks.

"A vial of Peruvian's Vipertooth venom, extremely deadly and volatile. Don't ask me why I have it."

Palmer looks at Jacob. "Stay quiet and protect the babies, right, love?"

Antonia kisses Phoenix on the forehead one last time then turns to the others. "Let's go, please!"

And if they knew, she would've held him a little longer, Emilian would've stopped time for a couple of seconds to look at their boy for a lingering moment more. But they didn't and time never reversed.

They weren't the only lives lost, but side by side they fought and won and lost and lost and lost. They managed to protect all but two of the dragons at the end, blood of dark wizards - and innocent ones - soaked the grounds. Dragons loose on the sky overhead, blood spilt from both sides, burnt buildings, scars that would never heal, the body of a friend devoided of life, a mother of dragons and children never to wake up again, children crying in a cabin kilometers away.

When Antonia's mother refused to watch over her own grandson, Clarin felt as if it was her own son the woman refused and it was that soon the decision to keep him came. She was still breastfeeding and no ordinary family would know how to raise him right, at least that's what both her and Palmer told themselves. Emilian's parents, both devastated by the news of their son's death were quick to agree with the Silverwoods' proposal.

And it's like this that Phoenix and Indigo are practically raised as twins, still young when he notices he doesn't look like the rest of them - a pale and blonde boy in a family of tanned brunettes - not only for his looks but by the fact that sinking his hand into a pot of boiling water doesn't hurt or the fact his anger makes his body react differently from the others or that people got mesmerized by his looks enough to do whatever he asked them to.

But the Silverwoods learn the painful way that raising a Veela child is not easy work. Not only easily irritable but also dangerous when transformed, not much to others while still young, but to himself due to painful and harmful transformation, taking hours until he could retain his human form. Meditating and thought exercises became pivotal from an early age. As not make their treatment towards him different from Indigo, they become tougher with both, demanding an altruistic, patient, and empathetic behavior from both.

This leads Phoenix to grown into a level-headed, sweet and compassionate boy who eventually got sorted into Hufflepuff without the sorting hat having to consider long.

As much as he wishes he had grown with his biological parents, he's grateful to have grown in the family he did and doesn't consider himself any less part of it, he loves his siblings dearly and considers and reslects his parents as if it was from their blood and cells he was made of.

---

This is my attempt at a concise history of Phoenix, mostly his parents who I dream of drawing someday. I'll make something in the future for his romantic life as it is its own ride. I ship him with Ismelda and boy oh boy I have some to say about that.

If you wanna more info on Phoenix, I made him an OC profile :)