#“you didn't hear me coming - i have rubber-soles”

[danjaley]

Alasdair: I know that feeling. Up to now I wasn’t even supposed to go to Dundee. My little brother went to a garden-party last month. It was at a great palace, and the park was illuminated and there was a real sea-battle enacted with small ships on the pond.

Robert: Really!?

Alasdair: I wish I could have been there! But I was sent to live with you instead and I didn’t even throw up. At least this wasn’t the reason I was sent away. I’m glad my Mamá still writes to me, but I wish she wouldn't write what splendid things my brother did.

Robert: Then you should go on the ship! And then you write a long letter to your Mamá and your brother, telling them how exciting it was, and they’ll turn green with envy! (turns slightly green himself) Oh no, would you hand me the washing-bowl quickly?

#mccarric scenes season4 #mcc4 part1 #alasdair bought these shoes on a time-travelling-trip apparently #“you didn't hear me coming - i have rubber-soles”

[dwindlinghaze]

part i : no one mourns the wicked

(remus lupin x reader, sirius black x reader, soulmate!au)

series masterlist

summary: after the first quidditch match of the school year, sirius and remus became somewhat aware of their feelings towards you.

contents: fluff, really there's no warnings!! the next chapter will be more about them discovering what they feel, this one is just like an orientation of their background.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

walking through the halls of hogwarts is usually considered calm and peaceful; wind softly blowing through the creaks on the carved out gothic windows and the rubber soles of shoes padding across the marble floor were the only sound and feel. well, that is, unless it was around a quidditch match.

every semester, the annual quidditch match between the four houses will be held. now stepping a foot in the hall outside a classroom felt incredibly crowded and overwhelming.

a ravenclaw chaser yelling at his beater to put himself up together, first year students who are still questioning what the sport is all about, the gryffindor captain explaining on the tactics of playing. it was chaotic.

"we're going to win this one!" james put his fist up in the air, followed by his teammates who were just as excited as he was. a series of 'whoos' and 'yes' were yelled, bumping their shoulders together.

it was an understatement if you said you weren't ecstatic to see james and sirius playing the match this early october. they were both outstanding quidditch players, they have all your support. speaking of which, remus was still healing from last night's event.

it was a full moon. he woke up this morning, struggling to move from his bed. james and sirius had already assured him that it's completely okay if he missed. but remus was a sweetheart and would never miss his best mates' long-awaited quidditch match. it was all they ever talk about.

"y/n wait up!" remus shouted from behind as he limped to where you were standing.

you reluctantly whipped your head around, steps coming to a halt to wait for your friend. once he was close enough you reached out your hand for him to hold. "sorry remus," you chuckled. "come on, the good seats will be taken if we're slow!"

remus hesitated for a while to hold your inviting hand. he didn't want you to get left behind because of him. you noticed his expression of course, being the observant friend you are. a soft sigh escaped your lips as you squeezed remus' hand, beckoning him that it's okay.

"m'sorry," remus said in embarrassment. realisation hit you when you remembered that last night was a full moon. poor boy he must be struggling to even stand up on his two legs.

to make it clear, you were the first person remus told about his lycanthropy. it didn't happen on purpose though. you happened to be at the hospital wing after remus transformed during second year.

he may or may not had said 'i hate being a werewolf' way to loud. loud enough for you to hear when you couldn't sleep from your painful sickness.

twelve year old remus with his heightened wolf senses seemed to hear your little gasp. he panicked, hating the way he was so careless, not making sure there are no one in the wing first before he spoke such things.

however, his worry came to an end when you said that you won't say anything about his condition to a single soul ever. since then, you and remus became close friends. after a few months he introduced you to the marauders and you befriended them also.

a warm smile spread across your lips, "s'okay remus," you said softly, "i'm sure there will be seats left for us. how can i help hm?"

remus shook his head, "never mind that, you can go up there before me and save a seat for us yeah?" he really didn't want you to have a view of heads while watching your best friends' first match of the year.

you couldn't leave him though. he looked sick and fragile after this particular full moon so you insisted on sticking with him just in case the pain was too much to handle. "who will help you climb that hundreds of stairs up the stands?" you joked earning a tired smile from him.

you helped him climb up the flight of stairs. it was slow, remus groaning each time he pulled a muscle. nevertheless, you both made it up. you beamed once you saw a perfect spot right behind the fences.

"perfect view," you said to him. the match has already started unfortunately, but you both were lucky enough to arrive right on time as to see james chasing after the snitch.

"look at siri's hair," you said in awe, nudging remus on his elbow.

"good hair is it?" he replied, eyes locking on sirius' beautiful, long, shiny hair. it still looked gorgeous even when he's sweating from head to toe, even after the wind blew his hair back.

"he has nice hair," you smiled coyly. remus looked away, feeling a weird sensation down his stomach. his hand went up to touch his messed up hair, insecurity washing over him knowing that his hair is not even half as good looking as sirius'. he never felt this way before. he couldn't be jealous, for you weren't his and sirius is his best friend.

"your hair is also very beautiful," you said. it's true. remus may not have long silky jet black hair like sirius but his hair is full and fluffy. you touched it once when you were taking out a piece of dirt, his hair is in fact very soft.

remus mumbled a small 'thank you', eyes glued to his shoes. it was not a rare occasion for you to compliment him. you always say how smart he is or how he looks more than good after a rough transformation. your compliments always leave him a mushy mess. he can't deny, he loves it. it's quite rare for him to have someone saying nice things about himself.

that weird feeling appeared again when you laughed and clapped your hands to sirius when he did a flip with his broomstick.

maybe it's the way you smile, that very smile that makes his heart felt at ease. maybe it's the way you didn't see him in any other way when he told you he's a werewolf. maybe it's the way you were so eye catching yet you never let anyone felt less.

there are so many things running through his head.

"gryffindor has won the 1976th quidditch match!" the bombing voice from the loud speaker has made its way to your ears, breaking remus' train of thoughts. you gasped as you took remus arms, "they did it!"

and just like that, you had left remus on his own up at the quidditch stand. he didn't blame you for leaving him though, of course you wanted to congratulate your friends down at the pitch after their win.

he waited until the students has all gone before he made his way down the tenths of stairs. now that you weren't here, it is hard for him to not feel a pain every time he bent his knees to step down. aching with every step, he met you halfway with your arms linking around sirius'. the sight giving remus a pain under his ribcage.

"moony!" sirius yelled and hugged him. "we won we won we won!"

"congratulations pads," remus said as he smiled into the hug. the long haired lad may or may not hugged him way to harsh. "ow padfoot," remus hissed as he pulled away, reaching for his scapula to soothe the pain sirius gave.

"sorry moons," sirius grinned. "gotta go now, have a blast you two!" he then skipped happily to the gryffindor's quidditch team on the other end of the hall, receiving congratulations and compliments from the people around.

your arm circled around remus' torso, saying that he can lean to you if the ache was too much. he didn't though, he doesn't want to look more pathetic than he already has. besides, who was he to get such treatment?

with the new found feelings remus discovered, he couldn't get you out of his mind. now everything that you do is mesmerising to him. you picking up a a piece of bread and spread it with butter, you furrowing your brows to focus while reading a letter from your dad, you pursing your lips in disapproval when james made a nasty remark about a third year.

remus noticed everything now. it felt like he was looking through a telescope but the only object there to see is you. only you.

sirius was sprawled on the red cushion sofa, legs dangling from the arm rest. he was talking to james and the other teammates over and over about their win. all of them were so happy and proud, after years of losing they can finally get that golden trophy.

sirius' eyes traveled to the common room's door where it flung open revealing you and remus laughing together as they stepped in. the two of you talked like you were the only person existed in the world.

the raven haired boy narrowed his eyes at the two of you, a sinking feeling in his stomach. he knew how much you enjoy spending your time with remus, but he couldn't help wishing it was him instead.

he recalled the amount of times when remus cried on your shoulder after a full moon, but then he remembered the amount of times you hugged him tightly when he received another howler from his mother.

you study with remus but you also help sirius do pranks. you always buy remus a bunch of chocolate but you also buy him a lot of things from zonko's joke shop.

sirius' was equally in the same spot as remus.

that left him at ease because he might have a silly crush on you. sure they were sixteen and mature but when it comes to romance they were just like twelve year olds.

"hey guys over here," james put his hands in the air, motioning for you and remus to come over.

"won't we be interrupting?" you joked as you dragged remus along to sit down at the empty sofa. half of the quidditch team had already left to clean themselves.

"nope. did you see me when i caught that snitch? gosh i was so cool. is there any possibility that lily saw me?" james asked, looking at you with pleading eyes.

you hesitated before answering. you didn't want to be the cause of his happiness coming to an end but you didn't see lily anywhere either. "i didn't see lily but i'm sure she saw you james, you were incredible."

"i know right? i better take a shower so when lilypad sees me, i will be fresh and handsome," he winked before jumping up from his seat on the way to the loo.

you conjured a cold towel and threw it to sirius, "you look like you ... are sweltering," you said, seeing his heated face from the adrenaline.

"whoa-" he sighed, placing the towel over his head as he leaned back to the sofa. "how did you-"

"witchcraft," you replied simply.

sirius lips turned into an 'o' as he closed his eyes in delight, feeling the cold sensation travelling through his hot skin. "why is it called witchcraft, why is there no wizardcraft..."

you scoffed, "there's a term called 'wizardry',"

sirius took a peek in between the fold of his towel to look over at his tall friend who has been real quiet. he saw how remus was looking at you like you were the one winning the quidditch match. "is moony staring at you the result of witchcraft too?"

hearing this, you turned your head swiftly to see the boy sitting next to you. you made an eye contact but not long before remus cheeks reddened as he looked away, eyes landing hard on his lap. before remus can make a lame excuse or before you can come up with a remark to leave remus alone, sirius had already stood from the carpet.

"i'm taking a shower, it's getting hot in here," he joked before running up the stairs. truth be told, he hated the way you and remus looked at each other. eyes soft and cheeks red. he can't control the jealousy from rising up by seeing you and remus together.

#remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction

[cheatsykoopa98]

its 4 AM and im trying not to freak out, let me write something to see how I feel

Her eyes opened and closed repeatedly, slowly. The dim light coming from the window let her know that it was daytime, everything felt so fuzzy. What had happened? What time was it? Her arm reached to her side looking for something on her counter. Glasses? Phone? She didn't know for sure yet. Slowly she realized, this was not her room, it was clean, white walls with a brown carpet. She sat by the side of the bed, still not fully awake, feeling the soft carpet on her feet. It then came to her: She needed her glasses, and quickly reached for them again. A yawn overcame her and as her thoughts became clear, she noticed her surrounding. It was a very tidy bedroom, with horse decorations on the counter by the other side of the bed. Figurines and a small pony plushie sat by it. The half open closet door had a coat hanger with skirts and sweaters on it, barely visible coming out of it. She scratched her eyes under her glasses. Another yawn. It had been long since she felt so... Calm? Paying no mind to the apparently unfamiliar bedroom, she moved her feet around the sides of the bed, looking for any kind of footwear. She felt the rubber of a sole under the bed. Her crocs. Quickly she put it on with only her foot, while the other moved around looking for the pair. Another object touched her foot, a soft one, a slipper. Slightly bothered but too lazy to find each pair, she finally got up, opening the bedroom door. The morning sunlight blinding her for a second before her eyes adjusted to it. She could hear a faint noise not tol far away, the sound of someone talking, and the smell of food being prepared. Following it, she found the kitchen. The smell of grease from the fried eggs with bacon got to her nose and made her realize how hungry she was.

"Uh... Hello?" She muttered with a grumbly morning voice. Her head was still not wrapped around everything. It felt so comforable yet so alien. As if she had travelled to a different culture and was kindly taken in by some nice hosts.

"Oh did I wake you up? I'm so sorry, I shouldn't leave my phone so loud..." A woman in her 30s took notice of her. She was making breakfast while listening to the morning news on her phone, quickly grabbing it and turning off the livestream it was tuned to.

"Don't worry..." She muttered in response. She tried to take a closer look at the woman. She had curly reddish brown hair, small lips and a round nose. Her face was filled with freckles that were clearly visible despite her tan skin. What took some time to notice, though, was everything about her eyes. At first she thought she was seeing things, but upon looking more and more she could confirm. One eye blue, the other brown, both very bright. Even with her tired face one could see genuine happiness in them.

"Am I... Dreaming?"

"Aaw, you're still a little sleep groggy! Come here" The woman with bright eyes pulled a chair, inviting the other to sit down. As she did, the woman put a plate and silverware in front of her, with fried eggs and bacon.

"I think I don't usually have breakfast, but... Thank you" She tried to smile, but she was still confused. She had to ask.

"Is this really not a dream? I'm... not sure what to think"

"Oh, well... I can't say I do either, honestly" The woman responded. "If you don't like it I can make something else! I can go out and buy..." The woman suddenly appeared to be getting nervous.

"No, this is good, but... Where am I? I remember the circus..." Suddenly the woman held her hand.

"The circus is gone Pomni... I mean, Pam. Everything is fine now" It was all clear now. Pam. Pamela! She had escaped that horrible nightmare. This wasn't just some woman, it was her wife. Tears came to her eyes.

"Oh... You're right..." Pamela smiled a bit, feeling whole while taking one of the bacons to eat.

"I know it's our first day out of the hospital, I just wanted to make it special, you know? I don't like thinking you're having a bad first experience..." Annie tapped her fingertips on the table nervously.

"Rag... Annie... This is delicious, did you know that?" Pamela had a bigger smile on her face, a genuine one she couldn't have afforded for years.

"Look... I'm sorry, this is all so new to me... I just... Thank you..."

"Hey, it's all cause I love you!" Annie winked and did finger guns at Pamela's direction, waving them around in a "get it?" motion. Pamela giggled. They kissed.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long..." Pamela muttered close to Annie's lips, as they both smiled looking at each other passionately.

"We'll be doing that a lot, new stuff" Annie smiled as they kissed once more. Suddenly, Annie's phone vibrated on the kitchen counter, getting both of their attention. Annie picked it up, looking at the screen, a familiar number

"It's work stuff" She showed the phone screen to Pam, rolling her eyes, to which she giggled a bit.

"Hello?"

As Annie talked on the phone, her usual look of happiness faded. Whatever she heard shook her. She fell sitting on the floor, sliding down the side of the counter. Pamela jumped in to aid her wife.

"W-What happened?! What did they say?!" She questioned, anxious and scared. Maybe she did not want to hear the answer.

"A new adventure is about to begin! And what circus is complete without it's performers?!"

"w-what?"

"It's time to come back, Pomni! Your time out is on time out!!!"

Pamela looked behind her. No kitchen. No house. Just the monstrous, gigantic dentures and millions of eyes everywhere, looking at her. The mere sight of it was enough to make her dizzy. Looking closer, she realized she stood atop a giant pole, ready to jump into a tiny pool.

"Caine... What the..." As words couldn't leave her throat. Where was Annie? Pomni spun around trying to find her, only to lose her balance and fall.

She couldn't scream, for her lungs were filled with tears, and with a gurgling noise, she hit the floor next to her couch. A dream. There was no daylight. She remembered this place. Her run down apartment. All she could afford. Her clothes scattered on the bed, waiting to be folded. Paper bags from groceries she forgot to take out close to a full trash can. The living room illuminated by her phone, which she was watching videos on before falling asleep.

She was breathing heavily, her eyes jolting around, looking for danger anywhere, but still she was unable to move or turn around. Just shaking and moving her eyeballs. She bit her nails and scratched her cheeks. It was like second nature to her. She felt like crying, but was too scared to let her guard down.

That is, until she felt a hand touching her hair. It was clumsy, but still soft.

"Hmrr... Are you ok, Pam...?" A sleepy voice grumbled. Annie's voice, much to Pamela's surprise. As it slowly came back to her.

"I... Had a nightmare... About the circus again..." She said with teary eyes. Annie grumbled something she couldn't make out, before slowly pulling Pamela back to the couch, closer to her. She could feel Annie's soft skin and soothing smell. Her soft carressing on her hair. The safety and warmth of her embrace. Slowly but surely, she felt home.

#ck98art #ramble #fanfic #ragapom #tadc #the amazing digital circus #pomni #tadc pomni #ragatha #tadc ragatha #jesterdoll #buttomblossom #writing

[wimble-warcrime]

Call Me Alpha - part 5

synopsis: things between you and Hatsume pick up, shenanigans ensue, and maybe a little bit of romance?...

pairings: Alpha!Bakugou Katsuki x Omega!nb!reader | Alpha! Hatsume Mei x Omega!nb!reader

warnings: some steamy stuff at the end, brief descriptions of a hospital

author notes: okay so, here is chapter 5, 6 is on the way, also, please reblog and comment! I love knowing that you guys like my stuff, but likes aren't enough! Pls reblog if you can! Thanks!

ANOUNCMENT!: my ask box is open! Pls come down and request some stuff, or just to chat, but I'd love to hear what you guys have to say!

Hc's | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |

The room was spinning, and you hadn't even opened your eyes yet. It smelled sterile, like the world had been bleached away. Faint notes of cinnamon and aloe swirled around in the air, the flow disrupted when a swift movement occurred.

Someone was pacing in the room. And it was getting on your nerves. The back and forth movement, the anxious scent wafting off of them, the constant squish and squelch of rubber soles on waxed floors.

It was too much.

"Could you stop pacing please." The voice that came out was one you recognized all too well. The voice that needed a drink of water, that was quiet and scratchy from unuse.

It hurt to speak.

The person, whoever they were, was suddenly at your side. Crispness of aloe and mint filled your nose; your father. You opened your eyes to see his brown irises obscured by blown out pupils. The room was still spinning as he helped you to sit up in bed, but less so than before.

The room was the schools infirmary as you later found out. You also found out that it wasn't Bakugou who had come to you rescue, but a fellow student and beta named Mirio Togata. He was on a run around campus and found you just as you were slipping into unconsciousness.

The nurse who attended to you told you to take it easy, and lighten up on your suppressants; your levels showed you'd been taking more than the prescribed amount.

"Of course, I don't want anyone to find out that I'm not a beta." That was your answer. You said nothing more on the subject, then shoo'ed away your father to get dressed. The nurse had discharged you once she got a complete sentence out of you, so you were to go back to your dorms and rest up until Monday rolled around.

Your father departed soon after, reminding you to only take one pill everyday for you suppressants, or he would stop refilling them for you. With a quick side hug goodbye, you two were on your separate ways.

×+×+×+×+

A shirt while later, Hatsume found you in your room, slaving away at your design board. The quirk enhancing gear ideas for Bakugou was never ending, and at this point, your strange infatuation with his quirk pointed to an even stranger conclusion to you; you liked him. In a romantic way.

Of course these thoughts were dismissed, until Hatsume brought them back up as she waltzed into you room, toting a tray of food; bowl of rice, green tea, grilled fish and pickled veggies. What the doctor ordered too. Of course she got a hand on your chart.

She set the tray down on the table adjacent to your desk, and went to sit on your bed.

Because of the suppressants, your sense of smell declined to that of a normal person, and so you didn't note the fact that she was scenting your bed and room as she sat. She started speaking about how she felt terrible for leaving you too pass out, so she managed to get her hands on your chart, found out what you needed, yada yada yada. And then;

"Why didn't you tell me you were an omega?"

The rice you had just swallowed was starting to make an re-appearance. Of course she would ask, she saw your chart. She new, had her suspicions even before.

"Don't tell anyone okay?" That was the first thing out of your mouth, swearing her to secrecy. She nodded in confirmation, but said nothing. You went on, "I've never liked omegas, they rub me the wrong way. So when I presented, it was a huge let down, especially when everyone, including myself, was expecting I present as an alpha."

The gears were at work, turning a whirring around behind her yellow eyes. She nodded slowly; "I won't tell anyone. But, you have to take care of yourself, and your omega. Whether you like it or not. I see that you font have a nest, and your room smells like cheap beta perfume."

You went to say something, but she continued, "You do know that everyone nests right? It's not just omegas? And sooner or later people will start to know that your scent is disingenuous. I knew from even before. A manufactured scent will raise everyone's suspicions, and sooner or later, you'll have to come clean."

Her reasoning was quick to shut you up. She was right.

"I'll help where I can. I do have a very unorthodox solution though."

This raised your eyebrows. You motioned for her to continue.

"I could scent you. Make it seem like we're in a relationship. That way, they wouldn't question your scent being not your own. But I would have to bond mark you to make it more believable. Not now of course, but later on. Just think on it for now."

With that she disappeared into her room through the adjoining bathroom. You heard the lock to her door click shut, but the noise sounded far away.

Her suggestion was playing over and over again through her mind. It was a smart decision, and benefitted both parties; you wouldn't be questioned about your scent or be harassed by those wanting your affection, and Hatsume would be seen as a capable and dependable alpha, while also having a lack of suitors vying for her attention.

It was a win win situation.

×+×+×+×+

The next few days were like a trial period for Hatsume's proposal; getting used to being touched and physically affectionate with an alpha was not on your top 10 to do list this year, but it was a welcomed one. Holding hands and hugging was as far as you let her go, though she feigned disappointment in front of large crowds when you denied her cheek kisses. Soon enough, the rumors of your relationship were being whispered everywhere. Alphas were congratulating Hatsume on her ability to 'score one' as was so eloquently put by some of your classmates.

Meanwhile all eyes suddenly stopped seeing you. You were invisible to most of the schools population. They were of course some, mostly in your class, who inquired about the missing bond mark after a month of your 'romantic' affections.

"Oh, I'm just nervous. I feel like now isn't the right time, but then again, I don't really know when is." A mask of sheepish nervousness descended on you when you were posed this question. They all sympathized with you, stating that it'll fade, and, nothings permanent until a second heat/rut.

Masquerading as a couple was easier than you anticipated; you only had to be more physically affectionate and smile whenever Hatsume was around you. When you finally let her bond mark you, it was inpromtu and rushed. But still intimate.

She had you in her room, spending the rest of the evening there after class. Dinner dishes were discarded by her door, a reminder to take them to be washed when she left. You were on her bed, lazily reading some manga she had on her shelves. Not really invested in the story so gar, but bored enough to try.

You sat up suddenly, the many more than usual confrontations about having no bond mark occurring more than usual plaguing your mind.

"Mark me." It was less of demand and more of a question, but the tone still rang with eagerness.

She swiveled around in her chair, face passive despite the sudden exclamation of intamcy you made. You said it again.

"Hatsume, please mark me." Again, not really a question.

"It's Mei to you."

"Sorry. Mei, will you please mark me?" A question this time.

She stood up, the hap between you two closed in swift step. Her arms came down to cage you in. You could feel her breath on your mouth. She leaned down closer to your face, and pushed you down to lie on her bed.

Her forearms braced the sides of your head, her body coming down to press into yours; her knee came up in between you legs, pressing against your core. You felt her lips on yours, dry from unuse where yours were soft from freshly applied chapstick.

She moved her mouth against yours, silently begging you too go along with her. You complied, and then felt her tongue against them. She tasted like mint gum when you granted her access to your opened mouth.

She moved away, slowly kissing and mouthing along your cheek, jaw and neck. Her lips came to a stop at your scent gland. She nipped and nibble lightly with her teeth, the action send jolts of electric pleasure to your already heated core. She licked and scented your scent glands, then moved to the unmarred skin of your shoulder; where she would bond mark you. A claim, albeit temporary, but still a primal and intimate way of showing your relationship. You would mark her too after, but as the alpha, she was to do it first.

She bit down hard, hard enough to draw blood, but it didn't hurt you. You felt your body kick into a heated state, one where you were sure the two of you would end up doing more than just marking each other. Your suppressants at this point were warn off, so you coukd feel your inner omega preen at the idea of the alpha pursuing more.

You could feel a link almost forming, as if Mei was on the other side. She spent a second more digging her teeth into your shoulder. Unbeknownst to you, you were moan so prettily to her bite that she was hesitant to let go.

She could tell that you were entering omega headspace. Once she let go, she licked puncture wound, soothing the now inflamed bite mark, and locking up the blood. You keened and moaned more at this, unaware at the noises you were making.

It was almost instinctual, the sudden  movement of flipping the two of you over. Your alpha purred at this, clearly excited at you sudden dominance in the situation. You leaned down from where you sat on her, sniffing at her neck and shoulders. Kissing and licking at the spot you deemed acceptable. With a tender lave at her scent gland, you marked the spot adjacent. Your teeth didn't pierce as deeply as hers, but it was still deep enough to draw blood.

The bond mark was now snapped into place, and you could feel Mei's pleasure through the mind link, and her yours.

From there, the night progressed,getting heavier with every passing minute. The two of you were now bonded, and the excitement that was felt in your alpha and omega over took the human part of your minds.

A night of heated passion ensued.

All Rights Reserved

Taglist:

@sylum

#bnha #bnha abo #bnha omegaverse #mha omegaverse #mha #bnha fanfic #abo #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #alpha bakugou #alpha bakugou x reader

[kyriolex]

I've noticed that you're a fan of Helluva Boss

But have you watched Hazbin Hotel (Viziepop's other show)?

Funny story about that. So I don't have Amazon Prime and didn't think I would be able to watch it. But then my apartment flooded due to extreme weather, and I had to crash at my dad's place for 1-2 weeks. And he DOES have Amazon Prime.

So yes, by a twist of fate, I am caught up with Hazbin Hotel. And personally, I think it was worth the wait. Even if it was a really, reeeaaalllly long wait.

A couple of thoughts/predictions under the cut:

Patina Miller has one of the most gorgeous voices of all time, and I hope Sera stays on as an antagonist so I can hear her sing more. She feels like she could be a genuinely scary Season 2 villain.

I'm 100% on board with the theory that Lilith owns Alastor's soul. They've been gone for the same 7 years, and then suddenly Alastor comes back solely to support her daughter? His "it amuses me" excuse only explains so much, especially when Husk reveals Alastor is also "on a leash."

Lucifer was a LOT more likable than I expected. Vivziepop has the rare talent of making the bumbling father trope actually sympathetic. Blitz, Stolas, Lucifer - they all have unique dynamics with their daughters that can be strained but still loving.

It's hard to resent a man who hoards rubber ducks to cope with his depression.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin spoilers #also I know I missed ShinoWeek #i had actually finished my contribution clear back in December #but the flooding made posting difficult #once I have my apartment again I can post what I wrote

[justsayun]

Rubber Bands for the Homeless, Trick or Treat.

Been doing some fall cleaning around the home. Finding things to toss out or put out with a free sign on it. I happened to uncover some huge bags of rubber bands. I'm talking big and bulky bags. You know like the kind you might find at some surplus office supply outlet. I must have picked them up at some weird liquidation sale for next to nothing. (I just must have forgotten about them. How did I do that?) But hey I'm talking tens of thousands of rubber bands of different shapes and sizes. Plus many many colors. The minute she saw them my wife wanted me to toss them in the garbage. I asked her, "Are you nuts?" No one in my family would toss away rubber bands like that. If my relatives found out I can hear it now. He must be like Elon Musk or Bill Gates. He is so rich that he can just toss rubber bands around like nothing. He's probably even lighting cigars with hundred-dollar bills. Nope, I'm not tossing away good rubber bands. I asked my wife if she uses rubber bands. She said she hadn't used a rubber band in years. I explained how I use rubber bands all the time. I believe every home should have 3 things: paper towels/toilet tissue, double A batteries, and rubber bands. ( Jeez didn't you ever watch MacGyver on TV? Half the time his gimmicks were made with paper clips and rubber bands.) After giving it a bit of thought I told my wife with Halloween Trick or Treat Night coming up I'm going to have two bowls, one with our candy treats in it and one with a bunch of those colorful rubber bands. Then kids can take a candy treat and a handful of rubber bands. My wife made this sour face and said fine but you're working the door for Halloween this year Buster. I told her "Fine! I can't wait to hear the parents continually saying: "Hey what a cool idea." The kids can even go home and make their own little rubber band ball. Boom. I also think I'm going to put some of my gazillions of rubber bands in tiny snack bags and when I see a homeless person panhandling I'll pull up and toss them some change and a bag of rubber bands. I think they'll love it. They can use the rubber bands to hold the sole of their shoes on or create a makeshift belt to hold up their pants. I asked my wife if she'd go along with me to hand out rubber bands to the homeless. She said she wanted no part of my community outreach with my rubber bands. I did call my youngest daughter and told her my rubber bands for the homeless idea, and asked if she'd ride along with me while I did it. After she laughed for a minute she said: "Sure Dad, I'll go with you. Hey, you could end up on the news. I will expect you to treat me to Starbucks afterward." No problem honey, being charitable makes me thirsty too.

#halloween #trick or treat #rubber bands #homeless people #panhandlers #starbucks #mcgyver #elon musk #wife #house cleaning #tossing things out #trick or treat night #rubber band ball #daughter

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

➷ a star called you — chapter 16: “a thimble”

pairing: choi beomgyu x reader. genre(s): fluff, band txt, college au, smau (this chapter is semi). wc: 982. warning(s): none; this isn't proofread. playlist: solar power ;; strawberry cheeks. an: i feel like i didn't do that great of a job, but i hope you guys like it! also the playlist is just what came on while i was writing sjsjsn feel free to tell me which songs come to mind while reading!

[12:25 am] — an icy draft slips in through the door you'd prised open, and absentmindedly left ajar, and creeps up through the the edges of your hoodie. the rain strums against the surfaces outside, chinking off windows and plinking off the puddles on the ground, but your mind is much to preoccupied to appreciate the otherwise captivating scene.

you sigh into the empty canteen, your voice echoing off the walls in the dark room. it seemed your cowardice knew no limits– or could it even be deemed "cowardice", to run away from the person you've liked for the entirety of your time at college upon hearing how he felt about you? you were more inclined to believe your latest stunts were akin to some higher grade stupidity.

the concern about whether he had actually meant it or not, or whether it really was even you he was speaking about in the first place, were fleeting thoughts almost insignificant to you, who had spent the past few minutes putting yourself in his shoes. if he had turned away hearing the way you felt, what would you have done? with another, heavier, sigh, you let your head rest against the freezing tabletop.

the narrow light of a flashlight hit your feet, followed by the squeaky sound of wet rubber soles against the floor, making your head shoot up in an instant. the light stings your eyes momentarily and you're unable to see who it is.

“taehyun? where's beomgyu? is he okay?” you question hastily, getting up and jogging toward him.

but who you found was beomgyu, panting heavily, concern swirling in his boba-like eyes, brows knitted so tightly together it'd make your grandmother proud.

gently he takes hold of your shoulders, searching every inch of your face for something you didn't know, hands brushing up to your neck before cupping your cheeks. “are you alright?” he asks softly, lifting a hand to feel your forehead.

you could only stand there, stunned down to the very last cell of your being. pulled back into reality by the sound of your name from his lips, you take a deep breath before registering just how cold his hands are. you push them away as you remember his wet clothes, and frown at him.

“you need to get changed” you tell him, turning him around before propelling him toward the door. but he resists, planting his feet to the floor as he turns himself to face you once more, and you slip right into his embrace. pulling back, you shove his chest, “beomgyu! you're going to get sick! actually, it would be a surprise if you didn't get sick at this point! look at you! why did you even— why would you do all of that for me!”

“because i like you.”

a pregnant silence follows that you disrupt with a string of hiccups, making your face burn. beomgyu smiles and appears to be stifling laughter, but soft chuckles that escape release another swarm of butterflies into your stomach.

“cute.” he smiles. eyes widening, you quickly turn away from him, another fit of hiccups overtaking you.

“y-you— we don't even know one another,” you mutter glumly. it hurt to admit, but it was the truth. regardless of your crush's longevity, the two of you barely held conversation aside from sayings in passing and vague acknowledgment of one another's presence— and it was more your fault that it was his. recalling the way you'd make yourself scarce when you saw him coming and avoid eye contact when some unfortunate event brought you together made you cringe in embarrassment.

beomgyu places a hand on your shoulder and you tense up. he turns you around to face him, takes your hand in his and traces his thumb over your knuckles. “i want to get to know you, though.”

“what if you decide you don't like me anymore after that?” you mumble, “i'll be liking you all alone, then. no different from before.”

“oh?” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows, “so you like me?”

the way your eyes widen in realisation and your cheeks heat up makes him swoon. he'd been so caught up in his own feelings, that he had never realised you were unaware of them. he believed his feelings were painfully obvious; especially in the way he'd find it impossible to look anywhere else when you were in the room and the way he'd hound taehyun to tell him about you, forcing him to ask you about your day.

intertwining your fingers, he pulls you closer and places a hand on your head. “i can't tell you what will happen in the future, as much as i wish i could. what i can tell you, is that i really like you and i'd love to get to know you, if you'd let me. i'd be showing you me too, and between you and me,” he lowers his voice, “i have more reason to be worried.”

he winks, making you giggle. at some point, without your knowing, the tension in your shoulders and the weight on your chest had disappeared into thin air, and being with him right then felt... right.

“so, what do you say?” he asks, eyes glistening even in the darkness. you pretend to be pondering his proposition and his face falls, before twisting into some exaggerated expression of sickness, “also, i'm not leaving until you say yes”

throwing your head back in laughter, you slap his shoulder playfully. he pauses his excessive shivering and coughing to take in the sight before him, his heart fluttering.

not letting go of his hand, you start leading him toward the door of the canteen. “come on, before you actually get sick.”

he grins, “but you never–”

he plants his feet to the ground again, and when you turn around to ask him what's wrong, you find him staring at your arm.

“beomgyu? what's wrong?”

his head snaps up, frowny and pouty, he whines.

“is that kang taehyun's hoodie?!”

yn and their friends run the campus radio for which yn is the host of the evening show "dear sputnik", where they share stories and hope to create a healing space for all students— even though many don't listen to it. little does yn know, their biggest fan, angel313, is choi beomgyu— the boy they've silently had a crush on for the past four years.

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#txt imagines #txt scenarios #moacabin #hybenet #lsn.works #txt smau #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu smau #txt fluff #txt crack #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu crack #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt text au series

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: The reader has left the burrow trying to hide from Molly’s harsh comments. Bill’s mom doesn’t want his son near you cause she thinks you’ll hurt him judging you for your family reputation. Arthur thinks differenly so he’ll try to make amends between you two

Word count: 3.4 k. Too long I’M SORRY

Warnings: none

English not my mother language so pleeeeese tell me if something’s wrong

A/N: Hey! Another chapter for you’all. Thanks for keep reading this. The next part will be updated soon and yeah, hope you like it! If you want to be tagged just tell me and i’ll do so :D

Chapter 3: Expectations

It was bitterly cold outside the burrow, and you wondered if winter had come early. Your icy hands clenched your sides, refusing to go back inside even if your knuckles burned and your bare feet began to crack from the hardness of the grass on your soles.

You walked on the grass feeling the dew wetting your fingertips. On the other side of the garden the gnomes were burying one of Molly's ornaments with what, you guessed, the woman would be very angry when she found out, but no more than she already was. Molly's words were harsh. Even if her intention was not to make you feel bad, she had managed to put a huge weight on your stomach after the fight.

You didn't blame her, it was almost certain that Molly would react that way, however, you hoped that within her there was a bit of empathy for the situation you were experiencing with your family. It wasn’t easy for anyone to go through a war that could have been avoided in one way or another, however, for the Grants it was an even more difficult challenge knowing that the trigger for such a war was grandpa Tim Grant's half brother.

You walked around the house, crossing the barnyard, watching the chickens peck at a rubber boot on a very rusty cauldron. The cornfield grasses moved with the wind at the same rate. From right to left, right to left, right to left and then they changed the rhythm from left to right, left to right, left to right ...

The barn was just behind the thick grass rising into an old stone sty, which had several crooked stories attached to it. Four or five chimneys dotted the roof of the cellar, and most likely the entire building was held up by magic due to its crazy bolt-on construction. You took a look back at the main entrance of the house where you could hear the voices of Bill's brothers next to Molly's, deciding to get away from the Weasleys before starting a new fight.

You crossed the cornfield finding a pond full of frogs that you dodged with a little scream and a ballerina jump. Then you came across an old broom shed that was half stowed and a pervasive smell. You headed there, thinking of helping out with the cleaning and wasting some time in the process until William came home from the ministry in the early afternoon.

The brooms were on top of each other in a corner of the shed where the garden gnomes used them to play with each other. One of the gnomes had gotten a match with which he had managed to light a couple of strands of the broom of one of the twins -You knew it because each of the brooms had the initials of Molly's children painted on the base. That one had a huge G in the center - which soon expanded into the rest of the broom's dark fibers. You immediately turned it off earning yourself a tiny kick from the gnome.

The smoke from the fire mixed with dust, and the foul smell of expired wax made your eyes water . You wondered vaguely when was the last time that place had been cleaned up, however, the density of the raised dust and the rottenness of the broom wax on the floor told you about the nonexistence maintenance of the shed. The orchard was contained within a paddock, so you assumed there would be no problem cleaning it up later.

You collected each thing by hand placing them where you thought they should go. You finished cleaning the shed earlier than expected, securing the door when exiting to prevent the gnomes from entering and destroying everything again.

You continued your way in a straight line until you reached the barn where a thick layer of dust hid the doorknob. You opened the warehouse with your wand finding the worst scenario ever imagined. The walls were hidden in ghastly cobwebs, the shelves were clothed in huge mountains of dust, and Muggle stuff were strewn everywhere. Mr. Weasley's old Ford Anglia was on the left side of the barn,  storing certain flying objects that you couldn't recognize from the cloud of dust that rose and entered to your eyes.

Well, that seemed like an even bigger challenge than the shed on the other side of the garden. You started by washing the car using your wand to launch several aguamentis causing a waterfall of mud falling from the roof to the fender. Then the car doors flapped open like a pair of wings, letting out the flying objects. You raised your wand by closing the barn door blockig them the exit and initiating a chase that lasted a couple of hours to catch each object, throw it inside the Ford Anglia and finish polishing the hood before the flying, spoiled car got upset.

You forgot the last time you helped your household servants clean a simple fireplace ornament. Years before, when you were little and your brothers liked to spend time together, you helped the butler to clean some objects in the house because it was more fun when you formed competitions between you, Anthon and Margaret to know which of you cleaned the house ¿faster . You had fun and old Alfred got less tired. But that was a long time ago and in the present you didn’t remember what was the proper order of cleaning.

You were lugging box after box for several hours getting a terrible allergy in the process. The last box was made of recyclable paper where you put Mr. Weasley's old newspapers and Molly's worn recipes. You carried them to the fourth shelf from the right, previously cleaned, raising it with both hands. A speck of dust flew across the room, stopping on your nose causing you to sneeze so hard you fell backwards with the box on your face. The papers flew around the corners causing a disaster worse than the initial one.

“Shit”

You stayed lying on the floor taking the box off your face staring at the ceiling. Undoubtedly that would be a difficult life without anyone to help you doing the things more than yourself, however you were willing to try ‘cause you didn’t want to return home where things were simple but with a high cost. You weren't sure you wanted to trade your freedom for a few extra comforts. You let out a sigh ready to stand up when a singular sheet of a recent newspaper flew towards you, stopping on your chest. You caught a glimpse of a fairly familiar photograph in the ink, so you took the paper and read:

"Dark Mark sparks panic." Muggle family murdered.  Death Eaters numbers grow”  Your hands trembled over the paper, caressing each of the words, reading them over and over again. The weight on your stomach grew and grew, as if it were suddenly going to explode. A huge picture of uncle Tom stood in the middle, with that toothless grin and throbbing nostrils “Merlin’s beard”

Your fingers tingled, and you couldn't help but run your touch over your uncle's face trying to think how he got to that point. Grandpa Tim never talked so much about his half brother and you never had the courage to ask him even if the curiosity was eating your insides. There were few times where Tom Riddle's presence was in the family conversations and if that happened, then your father changed the topic from one second to another. It was annoying living in the shadows, but it was even more to be tied to a cause that no one sympathized with, not even his own brother. But Tim Grant was reserved, perhaps too reserved. Maybe that was the reason why he allowed the actions of his little brother to escalate to those levels and allowed too that his only son had choose the wrong side. However, you didn’t understand - or support - Voldemort's ambitions, neither did your grandpa and that cost you to be rejected by the rest of your family.

Your eyes watered and you didn't know if it was because of guilt or if the damn dirt had entered your eyelids. You looked at the ceiling in the haze. You searched your mind and realized that the situation affected you too much. You weren't welcome with the Weasleys, nor with the Grants. You felt desolate, as if the barn walls were closing in on you.

Molly's reaction was valid, you repeated yourself as many times as you could, because anyone who had lost a large part of it’s family to a member of another's would have done the same thing or something so much worse. You shook your head, once again feeling the rejection you were used to.

The barn door opened suddenly, letting in a gust of wind hitting your body directly on the ground. Your skin prickled from the cold causing the newcomer to laugh.

You looked up to find yourself face to face with the distorted figure of Arthur Weasley who was holding a couple of drinks along with a weird smile that made you laugh. The man sat on the floor next to you leaving the glass next to your face.

"I'm sorry I scared you. it’s freezing cold out there and in my defense, nobody comes to this place”

“It’s okay, I wasn't expecting visitors”

"Fine, then" Arthur took a sip of his drink licking his chapped lips, but still showing you that smile so much like Bill's. You folded the newspaper on your lap, nervous. "So ... what are you doing lying in my barn?"

"I ... I was trying to clean this place up”

"Is that so? ‘cuz It seemed like you were about to take a nap."

“Yeah, i had a little mishap here”

"I see, do you want to get up?"

"Yes, thank you." Arthur held out his hand, slowly pulling you up to leave you sitting in front of him. He offered you the drink and you clinked glasses before drinking. It was hot chocolate, you guessed, made by Molly. Your stomach churned.

Mr. Weasley glanced around the barn, surprised to see more than half perfectly arranged

“This place hasn't been so clean since Bill was born”

“Sorry?

"No, no, it's okay," he mentioned, waving to play it off, "Molly had been asking me for a long time to do it, so I think you just made my job easier."

"It's nothing, Mr. Weasley

"Did you see something you liked?"

"Uh, yeah," you answered wiping your lips. "Ignoring the fact that your car almost killed me, I noticed that you have a lot of muggle stuff."

“Ah, yes. They are fascinating, don't you think?”

"Certainly, but I also realized that most of them are useless, why do you still have them here?"

"I like to collect them," he replied, taking another sip of his drink. You mimicked his action “to be honest, I don't even have a clue how these things works, but I suppose I'll find out in time. Muggle devices are not as advanced as ours, much less functional, however, I find them entertaining and special somehow, did you know that they use a subway to transport themselves underground? And they must leave coins in a machine so that they give them a little ticket. A ticket! The first time I used one I was deadly excited!

You smiled, imagining how it would to see Mr. Weasley that happy

"I could help you understand how they work." You winced when Arthur looked at you with wide eyes. "My ... my grandfather lived with Muggles for a while and knows a lot about this artifacts. Several times he spoke of his usefulness to my brothers and me”

“Fantastic!” He replied cheerfully. You smiled “It's wonderful (Y/N), thank you”

“No problem”

Then a silence settled between you, being cut off only by the babble of the gnomes outside the barn kicking the timbers trying to get inside. Arthur cleared his throat as he ran his little blue eyes over each of the walls of his newly renovated barn. He smiled again placing one of his hands on your shoulder

"I found out what happened with Molly in the morning," he mentioned. You nodded “My children told me what you said to each other and ...”

"I'm sorry I spoke badly to your wife, Mr. Weasley" you interrupted, sipping your glass all at once, leaving it on the floor. "I know after this I'll have to talk to William and find another place to stay."

“She is not like that. She rarely has such behavior with the people and I can only think that my Molly has a lot of mixed feelings. The war has us all nervous and the fact that the memories of the past have arisen again ... they make her have reactions that are not very usual in Molly.”

"I'm not blaming her. I think she's right”

“Why?”

"What I did to my family ... running away, betray them..." You started playing with your fingers on your lap, embarrassed. "It's not something a trustworthy person would do."

“What are you talking about?”

“For the Grants, it’s very important to support the family in their endeavors without stopping to think if that could be harmful to the others. With uncle Tom becoming the most dangerous dark wizard of all times ... people would think that his relatives would follow his steps and they did “Mr. Weasley listened attentively, ignoring the screams of his wife announcing that the food was ready “At least most of them. Now all of us are tied to the He-who-must-not-be-named, whether we want it or not. It ruined our lives and I couldn't stay in that place forever

"Why aren't you on his side?"

"Because I can't see my brothers make a wrong decision" You crumpled the newspaper with your hands looking at how the pic of Lord Voldemort turned into a streaked stain "I have my own convictions, even if you don’t believe so”

"I don't believe anything of you, (Y/N)" Arthur's voice turned stoic as he stared at you harshly. "Neither the good nor the bad. I am a believer that you should judge someone by what demonstrates, not by what it’s said about them. Right now you aren’t showing me anything but that there is something in your family that you don’t like and that the dirt in my barn is intolerable to you”

You smiled

"We're all here waiting to see what are you capable of. Good or bad, you get to decide who (Y/N) Grant is from now on. Starting over. Forget that the Grants' actions make you worthy of the consequences”

Warmth attacked your chest. It was comforting to feel for the first time the acceptance of someone who wasn't doing it out of mere compassion or that it was Bill. That Arthur gave you the benefit of the doubt encouraged you to continue as before: trying, trying, trying.

"I think his wife doesn't think the same."

Arthur Weasley patted your shoulder.

"I'll talk to her, she'll understand. Meanwhile let's go home, it's time for lunch”

"Did Bill come back?"

"Yes, my son and I came back from the ministry a while ago.He wanted to find you, but I asked him to let me do it. You know, because sometimes it's good to have the daughters-in-law on your side”

Your cheeks heated up and then the rest of your face turned completely red. Arthur studied your reaction, smiling as he realized you were just a kid looking for approval. He patted your shoulder again, inviting you to leave the rest of the mess and accompany him to the burrow.

"These aren’t a good times to trust the Daily Prophet," Arthur mentioned, noticing the crumpled newspaper in your hands. You skipped the pond and skirted the cornfield until you reached the garden entrance where Bill's brothers and Bill himself had set up a long table near Molly's apple tree where they planned to spend the afternoon. One of the twins raised his wand putting the cuterly across the table, one set for each of the family members. You wondered if there would be a place for you at the table “Honestly, these are not good times to trust anything or anyone, so if you accept my advice, don't worry too much about reading the newspapers, they will leave you more questions than answers, Hey, you will break that!

Arthur scolded his twins when they fiddled with forks in a battle to find out which of them would wash the dishes after eating. Arthur ran towards them while Bill approached you greeting you with a kiss on the cheek. He frowned, watching you closely and then removed his coat, draping it over your shoulders.

"What the hell were you doing outside without a sweater?" It's freezing!”

"You worry way too much," you told him, pressing the faux fur against your shivering body. The truth was that, after the exchange of words with Bill's mother, you didn’t have the time to get a sweater before leaving and of course your wounded pride wouldn’t let you get dressed again before going to hide in the barn. Bill clicked his tongue rubbing your arms. "I'm fine, I just lost track of the time cleaning your father's barn and I didn't feel the cold until now”

"You're bad at lying, did you know that?"

"You should stop asking so many questions." You smiled at the grimace on the older Weasley's face. "Nothing happened."

"That's not what the twins told me," he suddenly mentioned. You felt the tension in Bill's body when Molly passed by him giving you a dangerous look, however you decided to ignore it for the good of both of you “ What my mom said ...”

"It’s okay, it doesn't matter I discussed it with your father and we worked it out”

“Are you sure?” You nodded “I hope so. Not because she’s my mother I will let her offend you in any way”

Your smile widened. You couldn't possibly love that man more than you already did. You approached his body, throwing your arms around Bill's neck, having to stand on your tiptoes to reach only to kiss his chin. He lowered his head, managing to bring his lips together.

“Help your brothers set the table, I'll go take a bath”

"Don't you prefer i help you instead?" You laughed

"I can do it by myself, thanks”

"Hmm ... you sure?”

"William ...”

"Okay, okay, okay," he urged you leaving a couple of kisses on the corner of your lips. "Don't be gone too long. i’ll miss you, love."

“I will not. Wait for me just here, yeah?”

You went upstairs to the room you shared with Bill and jumped into the shower enjoying the warmth of the water above your head. You leaned against the tiles thinking that your first day in the burrow had turned out very bad, but better than you had thought. Even if Molly didn't believe your words, you would do your best to fullfil the expectations of the others members of the Order. You would be loyal to them, to the Aurors, and you would fight whoever you had to to prove that your actions were worth more than the rumors surrounding the Grants did.

You were going to prove how wrong they were with you and, incidentally, you would forge a reputation of your own, one of which you would proud of

Tag:

@purple-vodka-99​

#bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley x reader #domhnall gleeson #domhnall gleeson imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter cast #harry potter x reader #domhnall gleeson x reader

[masterwords]

Congrats!!! I love your writing. Would love a blurb about the team being there for Hotch and Jack after ‘100’. ♥️😘

Hey, thank you so much!  <3  Ok, I don’t know if this is really what you asked for but...when I sat down to write, this is what came out.  I live for soft Hotch, and happy endings so...imagine, if you will, a world where he isn’t just left alone. A world where he gets the love he deserves.  This is not edited and it probably makes no sense but I enjoyed writing it so I hope that at least comes through.  

**

Derek sat dutifully beside Aaron in silence.  Around them, the hospital buzzed with activity, patients hollered at each other and at the staff, the intercom sounded almost non-stop paging doctors and nurses and even through it all Derek could hear the buzzing of a light overhead about ready to give up the ghost.  He could sense the inevitable shift happening beneath his feet, the same way it happened with Gideon when he lost Sarah.  When the lines blurred between work and life, worlds collided and one of the monsters slipped through the cracks and made it personal.  Things had been set in motion that couldn't be stopped, and he'd tried to argue and fight back the last time, kicking and screaming about things not being right, not being fair, this time he decided to just try and go along with it.  Maybe it wouldn't be so rocky, maybe he could fix things if he didn't fight.  If he just sat here, with his shoulder just barely touching Aaron's, a gentle reminder that they were in this together, then maybe things wouldn't get so out of hand.  He wouldn’t have to lose Aaron like he’d lost Gideon.

“You don't need to stay,” Aaron whispered, still staring at the ground between his swollen, bloody hands. It was the first thing he'd said in hours and it startled Derek to hear his voice.  His eyes hadn't left that spot on the linoleum since he took his seat, his muscles barely twitched, his breaths were almost shallow enough to be imperceptible but Derek could feel his heat and it told him Aaron was still there.  

“I know.”

That was that.  What was said in the silence between that moment and a nurse coming with a wheelchair to take Aaron back to be examined spoke volumes, a credit to a kinship that was weather worn and gutted, the erosion of years taking its toll but the foundation was solid.  It withstood the storms of time.  Derek watched the young woman wheel Aaron away, staring still at the floor.  He pulled out his phone and texted Penelope, asked her to please update the team, let them know he was going to be seen and he'd keep them posted.  They hadn't wanted to leave, they'd all piled into the waiting area around Aaron but Derek knew the attention was too much and sent them all home.  Maybe some time ago they would have defied him, but no one did this time, they just left silently, even Dave.  

“Derek Morgan?” came a soft voice from beside him as he poked away at his phone and he looked up to see the same young woman who had taken Aaron back just a few minutes before.  “Mister Hotchner has asked if you would come back and sit with him.”  Derek just stared up at her blankly, the words she said weren't computing.  

“I'm sorry, he asked for me?”

“Yes, hun,” she said, smiling and he shrugged and stood, hardly believing that he'd spoken at all, he was all but catatonic just a minute before but who was he to argue?  He followed her down the corridor listening to the way her rubber soles squeaked as they hit the floor, she was saying something to him but he wasn't really listening – something about x-rays and waiting for test results, he didn't care, he couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that Aaron had asked for him.  He felt guilt over sending the team away, maybe if he'd let them stay then Aaron would have asked for someone else, someone he would really want there, Dave probably.  Anyone else, but in his worry he'd forced Aaron's hand. Go with the flow, he told himself.  Don't fight it.  

She indicated for him to take a seat beside the bed Aaron was lying in, hospital gown loose around his chest and bare legs.  Derek could see the bruises spreading, deepening, from his neck to his ankles, ice packed around his swollen hands, and the picture of what happened gained some clarity.  The broken lamps and splintered tables, torn curtains and shattered mirrors, he could see clear markers, indicators of the carnage and the very real fact that Aaron was fortunate to have walked away at all.  Adrenaline was a hell of a drug.

“My head,” Aaron whispered, eyes still closed.  Derek leaned forward, strained to hear over the din of the machines.  “I need you to...” He couldn't find the words, or make them form, but suddenly it was clear to Derek why he'd been asked back.  It wasn't for comfort, though he would do his best to provide it.  Aaron couldn't remember, couldn't answer the barrage of questions being asked, couldn't be trusted to remember instructions to care for injuries.  He needed Derek to take control, to be his ears, his voice.  And in that moment he knew he would always have ended up in this seat, even if the team had stayed.  Aaron always would have asked for him, his right hand man, his true north.  

Dave's phone had been glued to his ear for over an hour as he made arrangements for florists, caterers and room rentals.  He couldn't sit idle and watch Aaron fumble his way through his new life as a single parent, prepare for Strauss' inquisition into the team's handling of Foyet and try to plan a funeral at the same time, so he did what came naturally to him, he took charge of the party.  And while he made plans, Aaron sat on his couch with Jessica, Jack sandwiched between the two of them, and they read books or watched television and he tried to let them just sit and grieve without intrusion.  Aaron didn't have much in the way of family, but he'd asked Dave to call Sean, asked him multiple times, each like it was the first time.  He was still foggy, still barely able to move.  Dave had spoken to Sean days before, the first time Aaron had asked, and that wasn't going to happen, he could hear it in the younger man's voice, he was strung out.  Probably hadn't been sober in days and that was the last thing anyone needed.  

“Who died again?” he had asked, slurring his words, and Dave sighed, waving the white flag. Sean wouldn't be coming, Aaron would be alone.  When Emily showed up with the stack of invitations from the print shop, he glanced over them and nodded, indicating the dining room table with a mountain of stamps and fountain pens ready for them to set to work.  He knew she hated every second of this job, but she was looking for a reason to keep an eye on Aaron and this provided exactly that. A menial task she could apply minimal effort to while making sure Aaron was okay. It wasn't what she'd expected, though, watching him force smiles for Jack, the way he and Jessica moved in unison, like they could anticipate each other's next move and the move after that.  The way his grief looked was confusing and she was struggling with her own gut reaction to it and how unjust it was that he would never be able to just grieve like everyone else.

“Sean isn't coming,” Dave whispered to Emily as they sat down and picked up their pens to begin addressing envelopes for party invitations no one wanted to receive.  Emily frowned.  She'd never met Sean, had only heard the name in passing once or twice and knew they couldn't be close, but it still seemed odd.

“Why not?” she asked, scrawling a name in big, loopy letters on the start while envelope.  “What could be more important than his brother needing him?  I’m sure he must have known Haley...”

“Booze. Drugs,” Dave replied, not in the mood to beat around the bush.  “He's strung out, I could hear it.”  They were whispering, neither wanting the conversation to be heard by the rest of the room.  She rolled her eyes dramatically and nodded.  That she understood, had plenty of experience with that one.  

“Gotcha.” She paused for a moment, stuffed a few more envelopes, and then looked up at Dave again.  “What do we do about Strauss?  He shouldn't have to...”

“It'll be fine.  It's just a formality.”  

Soon, JJ was at the door with Henry and Will in tow, arms full of grocery bags and aluminum tins of frozen meals.  Dave brought them to the kitchen, tried to help them find places for all of the food they'd brought with them.

“How is he?” JJ whispered, eyes trained on Aaron seated on the couch. Jack had jumped up to greet Henry, excited to show him some new toys his grandfather had bought for him.  Roy was nowhere to be seen, wanted nothing to do with Aaron, but he’d been showering Jack with gifts for days through Jessica and he was eager to share all of his spoils with anyone who would listen.  Jessica had taken Jack's place on the couch, seated up against Aaron's lithe form, small and light beside his tall and dark.  

“Hanging in there,” Dave replied with a shrug, as if there were any other possible answer to that question.    

“Is that Haley's sister?”

“Yes,” Dave said, and they watched the way Aaron and Jessica whispered, spoke in hushed tones like they had their own language.  The easy way of old friends.  “She's the only family he's got.”  

It felt like a sucker punch.  “What about Sean?” JJ asked, and Dave glanced at Emily and back at JJ who realized this wasn't the first time this conversation had been breached.  She almost felt guilty for asking.

“He's not going to make it.”  She didn't inquire further.  She'd met Sean, she thought she could put the pieces together on her own.  It wasn't much of a leap.  Instead, she turned the oven on and began preheating it so she could throw in one of the casseroles she'd made that wouldn't fit into the freezer.  Will had followed the boys into Jack's room, to make sure Henry didn't try to eat any of Jack's toys, and JJ sat down beside Emily to chat quietly and help her with the invitations.  

“Can I get you two anything?” Dave asked, standing before Aaron and Jessica.  They both shook their heads in unison and Jessica smiled, tears shining in her eyes.  

“No, thank you, Dave,” she said softly.  Aaron was silent, he just looked up at Dave with those deeply sad eyes that cut him to his core and said nothing.  

It hadn't been planned, but by the time JJ's casserole had finished cooking, the apartment was full.  Aaron and Jessica still sat on the couch in their own little world as the rest of the team visited in the kitchen, talking about their upcoming meeting with Strauss and her investigative committee, and the things that needed done for the funeral.  Penelope had shown up with trays of baked goods, heart shaped cookies she's spent all night baking and muffins for Aaron and Jack to eat so they wouldn't have to cook breakfast for at least a month, except his freezer was full of JJ's meals and she wasn't sure what to do with them.  Spencer and Derek brought coffee, the one thing everyone agreed they needed above all else.  It didn't take long before Spencer found the kids in Jack's room and began running through magic trick after trick, eliciting more than one awed response even out of Will.  Derek, meanwhile, found his way to Aaron.

“Hey, man, you wanna take a walk?” he asked, noting the way Aaron seemed to be crawling out of his skin surrounded by so many people.  Jessica smiled up at Derek and told him Aaron would love to, before he could even respond on his own.  She got up and moved to the kitchen, introduced herself to anyone she hadn't met and tried to busy herself with rearranging the fridge and freezer so they could fit more of the gifted food.  In the end, she realized she was going to be taking home armfuls of the stuff herself, but she could always gift it to her father, he loved to eat and the blueberry muffins would remind him of Haley.  Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Derek helped Aaron to his feet and into a jacket before slipping silently out of the front door.  The way Derek was so careful with him struck her as odd, no one was ever so gentle with him.  It was almost as if Derek was the only one who could truly see how fragile Aaron really was, who didn’t only look at him as a pillar of strength, unbreakable.  It made her feel warm and less alone, somehow.  She’d always known his fragility, the depth of his shame and anguish he kept carefully hidden beneath that suit and his scowl, but no one else ever seemed to pay it any mind, like they actually bought his tough guy act.    

“You looked like you could use some fresh air,” Derek said as they walked down the sidewalk slowly.  Aaron was stiff and sore, Derek was the only one who knew the extent of his injuries and so long as Aaron stayed mostly immobile he didn't betray his privacy by sharing the details with anyone else.  Aaron nodded, but words escaped him so he sucked in a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest, pressing hard against his bruised ribs.  They turned the corner in silence, listening to the birds chirping and the cars passing.  

“Aaron?” came a familiar voice from behind them, and they stopped dead in their tracks.  Derek searched Aaron's face for a reaction, hoping it wouldn't be one of anger or betrayal.  Dave had told him about his conversation with Sean, but Derek wasn't so willing to accept defeat, not on this one.  Go with the flow could only take you so far, he needed to do a little fighting, a little kicking and screaming.  He drove up to New York and forced Sean into his car, by some standards it may have been akin to kidnapping.  He'd had the man at his house for two days in secret, cleaning himself up – he wasn't as strung out as Dave had made it sound, but he did need a little time to clear his head, to let the gravity of the situation sink in. He’d even cried over Haley, she was his loss too.  

“Sean?” Aaron croaked, his voice cracking under the strain of buried emotion, and he glanced at Derek for just a split second, putting the pieces together.  He'd heard Dave say Sean wasn't coming, he'd known before he'd even asked that it was unlikely at best.  Seeing Sean now, standing in front of him on the sidewalk, he felt like the wind had been knocked clean out of him.  As it was with them, always, Sean approached first, wrapping Aaron in a hug, and Aaron whimpered, moaned a little at the pain the hug caused at first.  Sean whispered that he was sorry, and Derek backed up just a little and watched as Aaron gave in, fell into the hug, buried his face in Sean's neck and he turned away when he realized Aaron was crying. Really crying. Sean held tighter, arms wrapped protectively around his big brother and mouthed a thanks to Derek for forcing him to come, for cleaning him up and not letting him miss something so important. He would have, and he wouldn't have thought twice about it until it was too late, when apologies wouldn't be enough to cover the gaping wound.  Classic Hotchner behavior.  

“Derek?” Aaron asked, watching Sean go ahead of them by just a few feet toward the apartment.  Sean walked through the door and Jessica all but jumped into his arms, followed by Jack, a moment of surprising joy in a swirl of grief.  Dave couldn't believe his eyes, but he knew who was responsible for it and he knew who to either thank or scold, depending on how the next few days played out.  Aaron just looked at Derek, leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder and smiled.  He knew his brother, he could imagine the things Derek had to have done to get him there, to have him sober and present.  “Thank you.”  

“Don't mention it,” Derek replied, bumping Aaron's shoulder playfully with his own.  They'd go back to butting heads in a few weeks, he knew, but he was glad for the reprieve.  Glad he'd decided to swim upstream instead of going with the flow, at least a little.

#criminal minds #fanfiction #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #spencer reid #jennifer jj jareau #hotch whump #tw grief #tw death #platonic mortch #emily prentiss #tw alcohol #mortch #aaron hotchner whump

[magalidragon]

we’ll meet once more | chapter 2 | teaser

LOL I am working on it! Didn’t forget this fic! And as much as I wanted to tease an interaction in this chapter I didn’t, but I will say we meet Jon’s Dad and he isn’t Rhaegar!

Dany, who was wearing sky-high stilettos that looked like they could mirror as weapons, did not fare quite as well on the slick walkways around the port, slipping behind him, the fish sloshing up against the plastic-covered bowl top. "Rhaego!" she shouted, but her son either did not hear her-- or rather Jon thought-- ignored her.

His initial hope that Arry would be fine vanished when he saw her out of the corner of his eye. She was moving too fast. “Arry!” he exclaimed but it was too late.

Arry skidded on the walkway, and he reached out to grab her, but missed, her left leg sliding under her, tearing her pink tights. "Nooooo!" she howled, grabbing for her knee, bellowing like a wounded animal. "My kneeeee!"

"Arry!" He would not be shocked if someone called child services based off her behavior in the last five minutes. He hoisted her up, checked for blood-- none thank gods-- and hauled her up again, but she kicked, wanting back down. He sighed, trying to figure out where to take them, and Dany came up behind him, taking her hand silently.

Grateful for Dany taking on Arry who was now shouting about her torn tights, he chased after Rhaego. He feared given that there was limited safety features this far down past the check in stations for most of the boats, they'd be fishing the boy out of the harbor and that was the last thing he needed. Somehow he was sure Daenerys would blame him for it. She seemed the type. No wonder she and Ygritte were friends, he mused, probably had "We Hate Jon Snow Fan Club" buttons made.

He reached Rhaego at the end of the dock, the little boy confused, turning in circles, because there was no boat there. "Where is it?" he cried, holding his fingers in circles and lifting them to his eyes, mimicking binoculars. It was really adorable, actually. "I can't see it!"

"It was the one back there, I was trying to tell you!" Dany shouted at him.

"That one didn't have any one on it!" A boat full of children would at least have some noise, that boat didn't have anything. He left them there to gather themselves and run back up the walkway, since his rubber-soled boots could actually take him where he needed to go without fear of taking a swim, and reached the dock in question, but the boat had already pulled away, was well into the harbor. "Shit," he cursed. He spun around, grabbing a dock worker. "Hey! The Dragonstone Ferry, which one is it?"

The worker chuckled, pointing to the boat that had just pulled away. "That's the nine on its way."

"But..." he trailed off, shoulders sagging. Shit! He weakly pointed to another boat. "What about that one?"

"That one has engine trouble, so we switched them."

Shit!

He checked his watch. There was no way they could even think of trying to find another way to get the kids to Dragonstone. It was too late. And blast it all, he had to be in Davos's office in about twenty minutes. He dropped his arm, shoulders slumping, more disappointed for his daughter than he was worried about his meeting. He chewed his bottom lip, glancing at Arry, who peered up at him, wide-eyed, confused. "Sorry," he mumbled, shaking his head and sighing, leaning down to her height, and squeezing her hands comfortingly. "We missed it."

"Noooooo!"

She howled, devastated, while Rhaego looked to his mother for comfort. The look Dany set his way was scathing, and she turn in a couple of circles, peering towards the main road. "Well...we...." she sighed, reaching for the phone in his hand. "Come on, we have to get going. I'll try your uncle."

"But I don't want to go with him, I want to go with you!"

"Rhaego I can't, I have to get to work!"

Arry was screaming now, high-pitched again, and Jon hauled her upright, kneeling to her height and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Aryanna Snow, you stop that now," he ordered, putting all his military bearing into his voice, firm, decisive. She glared at him, a look reminicent of her mother, and closed her mouth, continuing to sniffle, but he could see there was no actual wetness in her eyes. Fake tears? That's new. He exhaled hard, cupping her face, gentle. "Arry, I know you are upset, but you have to stop this. It's not right."

"But I want to go!"

"I know you do and I am sorry, you're going to have to come with me." His mind racing, he thought of his mother, or maybe even his father. He checked his watch again, wincing. He had to get to the base. It was clear to the north, it'd be forever in traffic. He patted his pockets, wondering where his phone was.

It was clutched in Arry's hand, probably from the cab and he took it, against her protests. He shoved it into his pocket, looking at Dany, who was comforting Rhaego. The little boy was disappointed, but unlike Arry's explosive response to rejection, his was quieter. It made Jon sad, made him think he was kind of used to it. His heart sank. "I'm sorry Rhaego," he apologized to the little boy.

Rhaego shrugged. "S'alright," he mumbled. He looked up at his mother. "What now?"

Dany squared off against him. "Now, we get to my office while I figure out what to do the rest of the day. I hope you're happy Captain Snow."

"Hope I'm happy?" he echoed, barking a laugh. If this woman hadn't been so damn contrary all morning to everything he said, maybe they would have gotten there on time, but nope. "Maybe you need to take a look the mirror, aye?"

She made a face, checking her watch. "I have a day, you have effectively ruined it."

"Well..." he sighed. He shook his head. "Look, we're both in a jam here, I have a day too, you're not the only one with a career!"

"And what do you suggest then Captain Snow?"

"It's Jon," he said through gritted teeth. He took in her flashing amethyst gaze, the way she composed herself, bringing all of her short height up so she was at least trying to look him in the eye. He had to admit, she had presence. No wonder she was a formidable investigative journalist. He tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. "I am suggesting we work together on this. I have a day, you have a day, and we're in the same boat."

Her eyes narrowed to slits, teeth gnashing. "My day will not include you in it Captain Snow. Thanks for the offer, but I have to get going. Arry, sweetheart, it's nice to see you, and here..." She reached into her bag, rummaging and unearthed a pouch, unzipping it and removing clear nail polish. "Hold still."

Arry watched, fascinated-- as did Jon-- as Dany squatted before her knee, dabbing the tear in the tights so it didn't continue to run. Then she took out a large bandaid, doctoered up the little scrape that Jon could barely see, and patched over it. He was about to ask what else she had in there-- state secrets? A nuclear weapon?-- when she took out an elastic headband, the perfect size for Arry's knee when wrapped twice, protecting her skin from the elements and pseudo-patching the tights.

He cocked his head, curious. "What else is in there?"

"Nothing you need to know about Jon Snow," Dany retorted, getting back to her feet. She took Rhaego's hand, grabbing the phone from him. "Stop playing with my phone."

"But Mai!"

"No, come on, we have to go, look a taxi!"

Jon called out to her. "Do you ever accept help?" That's what it was. He recognized it in himself, he hated help, but damn, sometimes you needed to take it.

Dany shouted over her shoulder. "Not from men like you Captain Snow!" She opened the taxi door, laughing and smirking. "All you do is disappoint, might as well do it myself."

He chuckled, shaking his head and lifted Arry, who was holding up her arms. His back was going to be broken by the end of the day, constantly doing this. The taxi sped off, kicking water up. He walked off towards the street, to find another cab. "Arry, darling."

"Yes Daddy?"

"Don't be like that when you grow up."

"Okay Daddy!"

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #my moodboards #jonerys fanfic #fic tease

[levbug]

𝐏𝐑𝐄-𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 — 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐭.

#pairings ー  goshiki tsutomu x gender neutral! reader

#warnings ー second year! goshiki, self-doubt, panic attacks, swearing (courtesy of shirabu)

#wc ー 1.7k

the first match of the year was always important to the players of shiratorizawa. to some, it signified the starting of something new and exciting, a journey to make the shiratorizawa team better than they were previously. to remind others that they were still a powerhouse school, despite past losses. to others, it meant proving yourself as the player you wanted to be.

goshiki was torn between both categories. he wanted to carry his team as a strong ace (preferably deemed stronger than his predecessor) and with pride. he wanted to be reliable. the backbone of the team. the one everyone could count on when they were in a pinch.

but how could he do that when he had been reduced to a sobbing, shaking mess?

he was surrounded by his teammates, who were trying to calm him down. the second and third years were fussing over him, trying to hype him up while the shy first years stood quietly to the side, pitying their senior. however, the encouraging words of goshiki's teammates fell on deaf ears as his breathing only quickened.

"shit," shirabu cursed under his breath, standing up from his squatting position in front of goshiki. he knew exactly how the young ace was feeling since he had been made captain after all the third years left. still, he was level-headed enough to not have a panic attack just 30 minutes before their first game of the year.

"somebody find (last name)!" his order spurred the stagnant first years, who were waiting on the tips of their toes to be allowed to help their much-respected senior. one of them (shirabu wasn't too familiar with the players who weren't in the starting roster) nodded and immediately left the locker room to find the said person.

"i've tried everything," kawanishi muttered, toying with the tape he had on his fingers. shirabu sighed. "are you sure (last name) can calm the guy down?"

shirabu nodded, his nervous ticks coming out. he anxiously checked at his nail beds, teeth almost cutting through the skin. "let's just hope they can."

just as the words left his mouth, the door slammed open. all eyes were on the entryway, startled by the sudden entrance.

"i'm here! where is he?" your eyes searched for your boyfriend, who you had been told was getting some pre-game jitters. no one had been given a chance to respond to your question because once your gaze landed on the cluster of boys who were surrounding a bench, you made a beeline for them.

shirabu and kawanishi silently thanked all the deities that they believed in, just thankful that you were finally here. "let's give them some privacy." the shorter male nudged his friend, who immediately got the message. kawanishi silently gestured for the rest of the team to follow him and shirabu out of the locker room.

you and goshiki barely noticed the other boys leaving the room—you were too focused on fussing over the shaking boy.

"tsutomu? focus on my voice, love," you ordered softly, holding his trembling hands between yours. goshiki sniffled, muttering a string of incoherent words as his grip on your fingers tightened. "it's okay, tsu. i'm here now."

you wrapped your arms around his neck. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, unaware of the tears and snot staining your clothes. you didn't care though, you only held him tighter. "wanna tell me what's on your mind?" your voice was soft, not wanting to force him into telling you if he didn't want to.

goshiki lifted his head, eyes red and glassy. you brought a hand up to caress his flushed cheeks, a small frown on your face. "i-i...i'm not—" he started to say, but started sobbing again. you waited for him to calm down, muttering reassuring words and telling him he shouldn't have to worry now because it was just him and you. after a few moments, he was able to level his breathing. "i just—what if i'm n-not as good as ushijima?"

his voice cracked at the last syllable, clearly ashamed to admit this. "oh, tsutomu..." you sighed, resting your forehead on his shoulder. you couldn't see it, but you knew goshiki's lip was starting to tremble. "you don't need to feel that way. you know you don't need to compare yourself to him."

"i kn-know!" he hiccuped. "it's j-just that...what if—what if i'm not a-as dependable?" he asked, head hanging low. "i-if we didn't win against karasunoー" he clenched his fists "ーeven with ushijima, what makes you think we can win with me as the ace? i'm nowhere near as skilled as he is, even if i keep boasting about it..." he sighed. his tone had become sombre and the air surrounding you two became thicker.

tears sprang into your own eyes as he voiced his worries. the anxiety and pressure goshiki had been feeling in the days leading up to this point must have been a great amount. and to think that he must have been hiding all this from you for the past few days (weeks? months? you weren't even sure). 'he must have been so scared,' you thought.

"i'm sorry, tsutomu!" you apologized, surprising the boy seated before you. goshiki snapped out of his thoughts, head tilted slightly in confusion. "i'm sorry you felt like you had to keep all of these thoughts to yourself!" you bunched up the material of his jersey between your hands. goshiki tried to take your hands in his, but you wouldn't budge. instead, you stared him straight in the eye, gaze unrelenting. "but please, please know that you should never feel that way! ushijima may have been a strong player, but he got there because of his will to learn and improve. tsutomu, everyone has doubts about their talents or skills. everyone has that time in their life when they don't know if they're good enough. the only difference is whether or not you want to use that as a chance to improve or give up completely!"

tears were now flowing freely down your cheeks. goshiki stared at you, slack-jawed and eyes wide. "and i don't care which you choose, because i will always be with you. no matter what. and that's a promise." your voice wavered at the end of your sentence, too overwhelmed by your feelings.

goshiki barely felt the fresh round of tears rolling down his cheeks, but this time they were for a different reason. a cheeky smile tugged on the corners of his lips. "do you mean that? you'll always be with me?" he poked your cheek, clearly in a better mood now.

you wiped your tears, laughing breathlessly at his words. "is that what you got from my speech?" he laughed as well, eyes twinkling delightedly when you placed a soft peck on his knuckles. "but since you're wondering, yeah. i plan to spend my entire life with you, whether you want it or not!"

goshiki grinned, peppering your face with small kisses. you squealed at him to stop, and he did (but not without one last chaste kiss on your lips). he smiled at you, eyes filled with love and admiration. goshiki had never felt this feeling before, but he was glad that he felt that way for you.

"thank you, (first name)," he muttered into your hair. the strands tickled him softly when you nestled deeper into the embrace. "i needed to hear that." he whispered. you smiled, intertwining your fingers with his: your hand, just as always, fit perfectly with his.

"it's no biggie, love." you kissed his cheek, giggling when he turned a light shade of red. you sat with him a few moments more, just enjoying the peace and solidarity with your boyfriend. it wasn't until the faint cheering of the crowd outside did you realize that goshiki would miss his game if he didn't leave now. "tsutomu! what are you doing, just sitting around? you have a match in less than five minutes!"

"right, right!" goshiki scrambled to his feet, taking you with him. his tears had long ago dried, the glassy shine replaced by usual fire that burned within him.

he led you to the doorway, bouncing on the balls of his feet with an expectant look on his face. you smiled, knowing he was waiting for. "good luck out there, ace." you moved to kiss his cheek. feeling cheeky, goshiki tilted his head so you would kiss his mouth instead. you gasped in surprise, but melted into the kiss.

goshiki pulled away with a soft sigh, his hand cupping your cheek gently. "i love you." he whispered. you felt your cheeks heat up at the sincerity of his words. "i love you, too." goshiki beamed at you. his smile was infectious and you soon found yourself reciprocating it.

neither of you noticed the squeaking of rubber soles on the linoleum floor. one of goshiki's teammates rounded the corner, stopping abruptly when he saw the position that you and goshiki were in. "a-ah, sorry to disrupt you!" he quickly averted his eyes, not wanting to ruin the intimate moment any further. "c-coach washijo told me to tell you that the match will be starting soon."

you and goshiki parted from each other, wearing small, sheepish smiles. the ace scratched his head, a low, embarrassed chuckle slipping past his lips. "right," goshiki nodded at the first year, who bowed once more in apology before scampering away. "i'll see you later, yeah?"

you nodded, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "do your best out there, okay? no more of that self-doubt stuff. promise?" you held your pinky out to him. he chuckled before linking his pinky finger with yours.

"i promise," he grinned. a faint shout of his name from around the corner snapped you both out of your little bubble and goshiki finally let go of you. "i've got to go now," he said sadly. "but promise you'll keep your eyes on me the entire time?" he asked, eyes twinkling. you nodded, murmuring a soft 'yeah,' in response. "good! i'll see you after the game. i promise to make you proud!"

and with one last kiss on your head, goshiki left. you watched his receding figure with a dazed grin, butterflies erupting in your stomach just like they did when you had first met him.

"you always make me proud, tsutomu."

#tw panic attack #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq #hq x reader #goshiki x reader #goshiki x you #goshiki tsutomu #haikyuu fluff #comfort #shirabu kenjiro #kawanishi taichi #shiratorizawa #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #ri$$ie.txt

[theheartsmistakes]

Any Other Name- Chapter 3

Once the dishes were all dried and put away— dishes that didn't even belong to them, to begin with— and the kitchen cleaned, Cordelia helped Sona unpack a few more boxes of kitchen supplies and pack away some of the things that Tessa left behind. They labeled the boxes storage so no one would throw them away and tucked them into the empty hall closet.

When it was only half an hour to ten, the Inquisitor and Consul finally left, leaving the Carstairs family once again alone in the house that felt nothing like home.

At some point during the hour and a half discussion spent inside of the study, her father had loosened his tie, abandoned his jacket, and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. Dark circles etched around his eyes and a distinct shadow appeared along his jaw and neck flecked with silver amongst the black.

Cordelia stared at the door they’d just left through and silently sent a prayer to the Angel that they both died in a terrible, albeit ironic, accident on their way home.

“Well,” said her mother, her voice echoed in the empty foray. “What did they say?”

As much as Cordelia wanted to stay and listen to her father’s debriefing, she only had twenty minutes left to meet with Lucie and she still had no idea how to get to the location Lucie left her. She’d never ventured alone around London before and with all the buildings and streets and mundane vehicles, it might as well be a maze to her.

“I think I’ll wait to hear the overview over breakfast,” said Cordelia as she turned towards the stairs. “There is only so much nonsense the stomach can handle. Too much is just not good for the digestion.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” said her father. “Thank you for tonight. They were both quite impressed by you.”

With her back towards her parents, she rolled her eyes and ran up the rest of the stairs.

Once back inside Lucie’s bedroom, she peeled off the cotton dress and tossed it on the bed. She pulled on a pair of black jeans, a black long sleeve shirt, and her favorite leather jacket that she zipped up to her chin and flicked the hood over her head. She tugged on her combat boots and tucked in the laces before grabbing Cortana, a stele that she tucked into her inside jacket pocket, and a couple of daggers before she shoved open the window and climbed out on the roof.

A fine mist had started just enough to make everything wet. Cordelia’s rubber soles gripped the tiles as she snuck across the tile until she found the trellis that usually had delicate pink roses clinging to a climbing vine this time of year. It was long dead and fallen to the ground in a pile of brown sticks and thorns.

Cordelia hooked her foot into a hole in the trellis and began her descent; the toes of her boots taking purchase in every nook they could find until her feet landed in the flower bed outside of the now dark dining room window.

Cordelia shook the water from her hands and shoved them into her jacket pockets to keep them warm before heading out to the main road.

The rune her mother gave her before they portaled to London still burned and kept her invisible from the mundane eye and her relatively mundane clothes wouldn’t attract the attention of any Shadowhunters that might be out on patrol. As she strolled through Mundane London, which remained surprisingly bright and alive at almost ten at night, with loud vehicles motoring past on narrow roads, horns blaring, or someone’s obnoxious bass beating into the night, Cordelia found that in some ways it did remind her of the city in Tehran. When she’d go out on patrol with Hettie and Minu it would often look quite similar to London.

If she hadn’t been running late, she might have lingered to ogle at some of the buildings or traveled her preferred way over the rooftops. High above the crowds, where she could see the gabled peaks of St. Paul’s Cathedral and the moon glittering off the River Thames. But tonight she was short on time.

Once a few miles away from the Institute, Cordelia took out Lucie’s note and her stele and drew a tracking rune onto the sheet. It burned to life in her hand and flapped in an invisible wind. She followed its lead down Fleet Street until they reached the corner at Ludgate Hill and it tugged her down St. Paul’s Churchyard.

She had to run to keep up with the possessed page. Cordelia began to wonder if it was some cruel trick Lucie was playing on her as it turned down Cannon St, then Queen Victoria St, then Mansion House, and Cornhill. She nearly gave up when it took a slight left from Leadenhall to Aldgate when the bells of the old clock tower began to chime the hour.

She could see the clock now. Its round face was bright in the night and its ancient wooden structure looked decrepit as it titled slightly towards the left. The paper tugged itself stubbornly towards the tower nearly ripping itself out of Cordelia’s hand.

Cordelia tucked the paper back into her jacket pocket even as it continued to twitched and force itself out. She picked up a jog and jumped at the iron gate protecting the park where the old tower stood in the center. With little effort, she was able to clear the gate and land back on her feet on the other side.

The park was empty except for an oblivious security officer staring at his phone from his odd-looking golf cart. The angle of the phone and the light reflecting off his face gave him an unattractive double chin. She never wanted anything to do with mundane technology, it served as too much of a distraction. That mundane might as well offer himself to a demon for dinner. If Shadowhunters allowed themselves to be that vulnerable, there’d be far fewer of them.

Minu, she knew, would want to mess with him. Minu enjoyed teasing mundanes when given the chance, especially if what the mundanes were doing was dangerous and negligent.

But she didn’t have time to think about what Minu would do or that the security guard was distracted by his phone.

Cordelia walked the rest of the way to the clock and carefully ducked under the yellow caution tape surrounding it. By the burning runes etched into the wood, she knew it was glamoured. She wondered what it looked like to the mundane eye when they walked past.

Cordelia spun around looking for a shadow or a shape that might be Lucie waiting for her. She hoped she wasn’t too late and Lucie left.

“Lucie,” she whispered into the night. “Lucie, I’m here. Where are you?”

After a moment when the only sound that responded to her was a pigeon's coo, she circled the base of the tower until she found a back door propped open with a brick.

Never one to need a moment of courage, Cordelia took a deep breath to calm the tightening in her chest and opened the door on its senescent hinges.

A serpentine staircase twisted its way up the tower for what looked like miles where Cordelia stood. A few field mice scurried away to their burrows at the sudden intrusion, their droppings and mess littered the wood stairs that groaned under Cordelia’s weight as she started her slow ascent, testing each beam before trusting it. She skipped a few that bowed in the middle and those that were already missing and wondered how Lucie hadn’t fallen to her death climbing her way to the top.

London and their pride over their ancient structures, Cordelia thought to herself. It was no wonder the whole building had to be cautioned off. It would only take one idiotic mundane with a death wish to climb these and plummet to their doom.

She began to wonder what would happen if she were to fall and be found dead at the bottom of the tower. Surely she’d disgrace her family who would wonder what would bring her out to an abandoned old clock tower in the middle of the night. The Clave would think the reason was something scandalous most likely. One thing was for certain though, she’d become the Bridgestock’s personal poltergeist in her afterlife.

Nearly at the top now and clinging to the unreliable railing, she could see the light from the watch face and feel the reverberating beats of the mechanisms through the wood underneath her feet as each hand of the clock moved half an inch for each second.

Once at the top, the paper in her jacket pocket went still. She stepped into the empty room and took in her surroundings. The clock face was a window that looked out over London. She could see the points and peaks of Buckingham Palace and Big Ben’s watchful eye in the distance. The lights from Regent’s park lit up the night as well as the red and white traffic lights around King Cross station. She had to admit if only to herself, London was beautiful from up high. Looking down on it, she felt how Pip might have felt in Great Expectation. From down below, London appeared ugly, crooked, narrow, and dirty. But from up above, it represented the ultimate milieu in terms of success. The equivalent of civilization; a world where only the most successful go; a tireless city of possibilities; and a bit romantic.

“You came,” said a soft, familiar voice behind her. Cordelia turned, her hood dropping away from her face, as she faced Lucie standing in the dull shadow the clock face made on the floor. She held something in her hands pointed directly at Cordelia. It wasn’t a knife or a sword or even an ax-- Lucie’s preferred weapon-- but a gun.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” said Lucie, her hands steady. The barrel of the weapon never once dipped or swayed. “Give me your weapons.”

Cordelia raised her hands. “Lucie, I’m not here to hurt you—“

“Remove your weapons and toss them here,” said Lucie firmly. “I won't ask you again.”

Cordelia wasn’t sure if that meant Lucie would shoot her or leave if Cordelia refused, but she didn’t prefer either outcome. She removed Cortana first and laid it on the ground at her feet and kicked it gently towards Lucie. Then the duel blades from inside her jacket and her stele.

“Now remove your jacket and your boots,” said Lucie, eyes still locked over the barrel.

Cordelia unzipped her jacket and dropped it to the floor. Then she kicked off both of her boots and tossed them into the pile too.

“Put your arms out to your sides,” said Lucie as she took a step towards Cordelia, “and spread your legs.”

Cordelia did as she was told watching Lucie carefully as she approached, holding the gun in one hand now while the other quickly patted Cordelia down for any more hidden weapons.

“I’m clean.”

“Don’t speak,” said Lucie, feeling around in Cordelia’s pockets.

“I thought that was why you asked me to come here,” said Cordelia, as Lucie pushed the gun into Cordelia’s side and frisked both of her legs. “To talk.”

“Then why did you bring the weapons?” Lucie stood and took several steps backward once she was satisfied Cordelia had no more weapons.

“I’m a Shadowhunter, I brought them in case I needed to defend myself,” said Cordelia. “Why did you bring the gun?”

“For the same reason.” Lucie hissed.

“Guns don’t work on demons.”

Lucie’s gaze narrowed. “Not all of them.”

Cordelia dropped her arms back down to her sides and took a moment to appraise her friend— though she wasn’t so sure she could call her that anymore. She looked nothing like the girl Cordelia used to clash pretend swords with or make chains out of the wildflowers that would grow in the fields of Alicante when they’d visit during Spring. Her eyes changed in the five years since they last saw each other. Once wide, excited, and curious, they were now focused and on guard, like an expert gambler waiting for an opponent to show their tell, and lined in thick black ink that bled down to her lower lash line. She cut her mousy brown hair to her narrow shoulders where it curled in an uneven pattern, similar to her brother’s.

“Lucie, it’s me.” Cordelia exhaled and stepped forward.

Lucie pulled down the hammer on the gun until it clicked into place. “What nickname did my brother give you when we were children and why?”

A test, Cordelia understood. A question only the real Cordelia and not some imposter would know the answer to. “Daisy. He called me Daisy because when we were little girls we were playing and you fell from the edge of a cliff. I caught you and held you there until help came. James said that when they pulled you up, I collapsed from exhaustion into a pile of daisies.” Tears sprang to her eyes at the memory. “It’s me, Lucie. I’m not here to hurt you.”

The corner of Lucie’s mouth twitched right before she lowered the gun down to the floor and disengaged the hammer, her eyes never leaving Cordelia.

“I had to be sure,” whispered Lucie. “I’m sorry for being this way, but you have to understand the precautions are necessary. It’s incredibly dangerous for me and you to be here right now, but I had to speak with you and I knew that if anyone would be willing to meet with me, it would be you.”

Cordelia nodded and took a tentative step closer. “I understand. No need to apologize. How did this happen, Lucie?”

“Bridgestock finally got his way." She shoved her gun into its holster at her hip. “We can’t even use angelic weapons anymore. He had them be remade by the iron sisters so that they wouldn’t respond to anyone with even a little bit demon blood, the bloody tosser. It wasn’t enough that he stole our home, he had to take our one form of defense away.”

“That’s awful,” said Cordelia and looked down at the pile of weapons on the floor.

“He believes that we cannot be Shadowhunters because of our linage,” said Lucie.

“But why?” asked Cordelia. “It doesn’t make sense. Your family has never done anything to deserve this kind of treatment.”

“He believes our blood to be dirty,” sneered Lucie. “He always had something to say about my mother’s paternal side but he didn’t fight anyone on it until my mother became pregnant with James. Then, he really started to build his whole agenda around the purity of Shadowhunter blood. No one paid him any mind until James accidentally disappeared into the Shadowrealm in front of Augustus.”

“He what?!”

“It was an accident,” shouted Lucie. “Augustus was saying horrible things about my mother and James retaliated by punching Augustus in the face. When Augustus grabbed him to throw a punch, James just disappeared out of his grasp. Of course, Pounceby ran home to his father to tell him of the situation and that seemed to be the last straw. They gathered enough votes to remove Charlotte from her position as Consul and have us banished.

“No one cared that Augustus said my mother was nothing more than a Shadowhunter’s whore that my father knocked up on accident because he couldn’t keep his—“ Lucie shuttered and her whole face turned red. “He said some nasty things, but no one cared about that. No, they only cared that James’s demon blood gave him abilities that were not gifted by the angel. They didn’t want to risk anymore of the blood being passed on when James or I married, so they banished us. They fucking banished us.”

Cordelia fought the urge to run over and hug her. Even words failed her, what could she say that could fix any of this. To say “ I’m sorry” felt disingenuous because she wasn’t sorry, she was livid. She wanted to ask Lucie who she wanted her to murder first.

In the end, she decided to say nothing and let Lucie speak.

“It’s also partially punishment,” continued Lucie, “because my father continued to refuse Bridgestock’s and Pounceby’s advancements on the separation of Shadowhunters from Downworlders. Downworlders are also not from the Angel and therefore we should not have an alliance with them. We should govern and control them. He wants us to disassociate ourselves from our friends, Cordelia. He wants us to manage and control them like they’re beneath us. He wanted to strip them of their rights, rights that they earned from the truce created between us so long ago. He’s a dictator, Cordelia, and he’s going to start a war.”

Cordelia nodded. “I know. I agree. What can we do?”

Lucie closed her eyes and exhaled. “Nothing. He has the majority of the clave so wrapped around his finger that he can manipulate them to do his work like little marionettes.” She imitated the movements with her hands.

“What about your Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel? Charlotte and Henry? Sophie and Gideon?” asked Cordelia. “They make up a large part of the Clave surely their opinions have some sway.”

“He threatened them,” said Lucie. “When they banished us at the Clave meeting, they told everyone that disagreed with the decision that they could be exiled as well and they would be forced to give up their Marks. Christopher, Matthew, and Thomas were willing to do it, but their parents stopped them and then forbid them from seeing James or me! Did you hear what they did to Matthew?”

Cordelia nodded and felt like she might be violently sick.

“I can still hear James screaming in my mind when they removed the mark from Matthew.” A far-off look washed over Lucie’s face. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to erase whatever had taken over her vision.

“What about Brother Zachariah?” asked Cordelia. “Jem and the rest of the Silent Brother’s. Surely, they wouldn’t agree to this.”

“Brother Enoch’s exact words were ‘they do not doddle in the affairs of mortal men’.” Lucie rolled her eyes. “Just another way of saying it’s not their problem. We haven’t heard anything from Jem because to try to intervene would be going against his vows. We have been utterly abandoned.”

“No,” Cordelia stepped forward again until she stood only a few inches from Lucie. “I’m here. I won’t abandon you.”

“You can say that now but you haven’t been here the past six months,” said Lucie. “If anyone knew you came here to see me tonight you’d be publicly punished, possibly stripped of your Marks, or something worse. I shouldn’t have ever asked you to come. It was selfish of me, but I don’t have very many choices and you’re the only one that can help me with this.”

Without hesitation, Cordelia blurted, “What do you need from me? How can I help?”

“When you go to the next Clave meeting in Alicante, there is a book from the library there that I need you to find,” said Lucie. “It’s the first volume of the Shadow Codex ever written. You’ll most likely find it in—“

“I know where I can find it,” said Cordelia, the warmth from her skin drained. “Lucie, it’s forbidden to touch that book, you know that. It’s protected with wards and a glass encasement. It’s an ancient relic for us. To look at that book is a privilege; to touch— to steal it— would be cause for punishments we haven’t even heard of.”

“I know, I know,” said Lucie. “I wouldn’t be asking you this if I had any other choice. I can’t ask anyone else because they’re all constantly being watched by Augustus and his friends. You have less of an affiliation with us than anyone else. They won’t be watching you as closely and you’re incredibly clever.”

“Flattery will not work right now, Lucie,” said Cordelia as she began to pace. “What do you want with the Shadowhunter Codex anyway? What’s in the original that isn’t it one of the hundred volumes published for public access?”

Lucie averted her eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

Cordelia huffed. “Why not? If I’m to do this I deserve to know what I’m doing it for.”

“You’re doing it to help me and my family.” The hardness returned to Lucie’s gaze and tone as she looked back up to Cordelia. “If you believe what’s been done to us is wrong and needs to be stopped then you will help me with this, no questions asked.”

Cordelia let out a deep breath and tried to make sense of her racing thoughts. If she did what Lucie was asking and stole the very first Shadowhunter Codex written and illustrated by the first three then it wouldn’t just mean her punishment, but her family’s punishment as well. They’d be humiliated by her, disappointed, and possibly cast out. But if she wasn’t caught and within this book was a way to help save the Herondales and tear Bridgestock and Pounceby down from their reign of power, then the risk may be worth it… as long as she wasn’t caught.

“I’ll try,” said Cordelia. “I’m not promising anything and I’m not risking my own family, but you were a good friend to me when I had no one else, so I will try.”

Lucie’s eyes swam as she gave Cordelia a tentative smile. “Thank you.”

The shadow outline of the clock on the floor of the shack reflected it was forty-five minutes past the hour. She should be getting home for tomorrow she would be training with Augustus and she needed all of her sanity not to club him in the nose with the blunt end of Cortana.

“The meeting is going to be held in two weeks,” said Cordelia as she walked to her pile of clothes and weapons. “I will meet you back here on the Saturday that follows at the same time. If for some reason I don’t make it then it will be the next night or the following. If I don’t show up after three days then it’s safe to assume that I was caught and thrown in prison; in which case I hope that you find a way to win and take those bastards down.”

She shucked on her jacket and slid her feet into her boots.

“We were supposed be Parabatai,” said Lucie and handed Cordelia Cortana. “It would have been an honor. I would have been lucky to have a warrior partner like you.”

Cordelia took her sword from Lucie. “I still believe we will be. Until then, we will continue to treat each other as such.” She placed a hand on Lucie’s shoulders before turning towards the stairs and began her descent back into the night.

---------

A heavier rain began to fall as she made her way back towards Fleet Street. Cordelia pulled up her hood and shoved her cold, wet hands into the front pockets of her jacket as she walked, Cortana nudging her back with each step she took. The city had finally quieted some: the roads were less crowded except for the occasional bright yellow taxi.

Without Lucie’s runed letter to follow, all of the roads and buildings looked the same to Cordelia. She hadn’t exactly been paying attention to landmarks or street signs when she was following a possessed page down dark streets in corners. She did the best she could by memory but found herself growing less and less familiar with her surroundings.

It may have been her growing frustration with herself or her paranoia after seeing Lucie, but she couldn’t shake the odd sense that she was being followed. Though every glance she threw over her shoulder, she found nothing to be lurking in the shadows even with her night vision rune still burning on the inside of her arm.

She found herself wandering down a road that was still rowdy for this time of night. Flickering lights of red and yellow flashed from signs hanging over doorways where loud music and shouting filled the streets. The air smelt thick of spilled ale and magic. As she passed by, she could have sworn eyes followed her from the patrons standing outside of the clubs. She hid her face deeper within her tunic and tried to keep her gate casual to not draw attention to herself.

When she got to the end of the road, she took a right but found that it was a darkened alleyway that came to a dead-end only a few feet in. Frustrated, she turned around and nearly collided with a man.

No, not a man, a Fae warrior. His long black hair was tucked behind each of his pointed ears and when he flashed her a predatory smile sharp incisors glistened in the lights that lined the roof.

Cordelia regained her balance quickly and looked at him then the two other warriors standing on either of his sides.

“You’re a long way from your side of town, Nephilim,” he said in a deep gravely voice. “And all alone.”

“What makes you assume I’m alone?” said Cordelia, fighting to keep her voice even.

“We’ve been following you for the past half hour,” said the Fae. “You seem a bit lost.”

The Fae were not their enemy. She had nothing to fear from them, but for some unknown reason, she felt uneasy in their presence alone. Her hand itched to reach for Cortana, but to do so would show her apprehension and she didn't want to appear as a threat.

So she told them the truth. “I'm a bit lost. I’m new to London and my escort seems to have abandoned me. I’m looking for Fleet Street. Would you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

The Fae took a step forward, forcing her to take a step backward farther down the alley. “A Nephilim alone in our side of town is fair game. Perhaps we should make an example of her the way her kind make an example of us when we wander too far into their parts?”

The other two warriors grunted their agreement.

Cordelia did reach for Cortana then and with a sharp pull, removed the sword from its scabbard. “I don’t want to harm any of you. I’m here by accident and I’d like to leave without any unnecessary bloodshed. If you would kindly move, I will be on my way.”

The Fae warrior removed two blades from the scabbards at his sides and glided them across each other so they made a spark. “She is a lovely thing. Perhaps we could take turns with her and return her back to her people used.”

Cordelia swung Cortana and positioned herself to fight. “You can try, but I strongly advice you let me pass.”

“Or what?” grinned the head Fae. “You’ll cut all three of us down by yourself with that little blade in your hand?”

He moved towards her again, and this time Cordelia refused to give one step.

“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt her, Bevan,” said a voice from the opening of the alley. “I’ve seen her take down men twice as skilled as you.”

As the three Fae men turned to look behind them, Cordelia took her chance and lunged for the lead Fae.

A/N: Comments, likes, and reblog are my main source of motivation so please let me know what you think.

Next chapter comes out: Fri, June 11th.

#the shadowhunter chronicles #jordelia fanfiction #james x cordelia #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #the last hours #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #alternative universe #shadowhunters #cassandra clare

[masterwords]

Hi, how have you been? Are you still receiving applications? You know my Hotch/Rossi loves, I would like to see Hotch suffer (why apparently I can't help seeing him suffer) for Rossi shot, that those hours in the hospital Hotch really realizes how much he loves him and doesn't want to lose him, remembering the beginning of their romantic relationship and their friendship, I would like to see Jack equally worried about Rossi because he obviously loves him too. Thank you and again sorry if I can't help but ask for this couple Greetings be well

Hi! I wrote this up and it isn't romantic but it is definitely Hotch suffering over Rossi. I will still try to write more of what you specifically asked for but I kind of just let the story write itself and I think it turned out sweet. I promise I will do something romantic very soon! This one you can take as romantic or platonic, it's vague as far as what their relationship is. <3 (~1300 words)

***

“Hotch?” Prentiss asked, peeking into the hospital room. She could barely make out the shape of him curled up on a cot beside Rossi's bed, too long legs pulled awkwardly to his chest in an attempt to fit onto the piece of furniture. He was huddled under one thin blanket, still in his suit. She entered slowly and called his name again, a little louder but quiet enough not to be startling. He pried one eye open and inclined his head to see her through the dark, humming his response. She approached carefully and crouched before him. “You need to go home, sleep in your own bed,” she said and he closed his eyes again.

“Why?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the din of the machines. His family was gone, erased from his life by witness protection and there was nothing for him at his home but crushing quiet and George Foyet's voice in his head. He'd already tried going home when Morgan kicked him out, told him to go and shower, get some work done, take a run, anything but sit in that hospital room. Being alone with his thoughts was doing more harm than good, at least here he could get work done during the day and sleep peacefully, if not a little uncomfortably, at night. He'd spent so much time in and out of hospitals in the last year that it was almost comforting to hear the doctors being paged, the squeaking rubber soles rushing down the hall, being checked on hourly by nursing staff and doctors.

“You really need me to explain it to you?” she asked, rocking back on her haunches a little. “Come on, we're all worried about him too. Let us help.”

“It's fine,” he said, a little more firm than he'd intended. “You can stay if you want. Here,” he groaned, pulling himself upright. “You can have the cot.” He moved sleepily toward the chair in the corner and settled himself in, tucking himself under his jacket and closing his eyes. She frowned at him, glowering over his sheer stubbornness but she sat herself down on the cot because if he was going to behave so childishly she would do the same. He was welcome to sleep in a chair, she'd brought herself a blanket and had every intention of making herself comfortable, at first to help him but now at his expense. He didn't pay it any notice.

By the time the sunlight was trickling through the curtains and the 7am rounds had begun, Hotch was awake and rubbing at the stiffness in his neck. Prentiss opened her eyes and stretched herself out like a cat, tugging the blanket around her, glancing over at Hotch who looked like a miserable splotch of blacks and grays amid the cheery décor of the hospital room. He watched intently as the nurses read Rossi's vital signs and poked at him, checked his dressings, replaced IV bags. They were keeping him sedated, high on morphine, sleeping instead of giving the staff a hard time.

“What's your deal?” Prentiss asked once the nurses left. She leveled her glare at Hotch who just sat silently, staring at Rossi sleeping in his bed. He'd been awake sporadically, hadn't been alert enough to speak or move, hadn't really even recognized that anyone was in the room with him the last time. They had mentioned they were going to start easing the sedation throughout the day, see how he handled being awake.

“A member of my team was shot on my watch,” Hotch said softly and she rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Oh please. You've never camped out,” she began but he shot her a glare that told her she was dangerously close to overstepping even the casual nature of their friendship. “I'm just saying I think there's more to it. If you want to talk, Hotch, I'm here.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “While I appreciate the offer,” he started, but he didn't finish and she didn't push. What was he going to say? The last thing he said to Rossi was mean, there was no other way around it. He'd been callous and cruel, said things that filled him with regret and there wasn't anything he could do to take it back or fix it. He pressed his hands to his face, drug them roughly down to his jaw, trying to rake the sleep from his bones. She watched him and she thought she understood, they'd been bickering the entire day about how things needed to happen, about the profile, about the police involvement, who should go where, and it wasn't surprising that things went bad. They were all mature enough to know things like this happened, everyone said things they might regret, bit their tongues when they shouldn't, made mistakes in the field. Those mistakes weren't usually punctuated by a gunshot wound to the abdomen, though, and she could see the guilt in Hotch's eyes plain as day. She wanted to hit Rossi, smack him until he woke up so Hotch could apologize, make it right, seeing the look on his face was going to kill her.

“Food? You look like you haven't eaten in days.”

“Prentiss...” he began, but she shook her head dismissively and stood, arching her back. Briefly, watching her stretch her thin frame, he saw an uncanny resemblance to Sergio and thought about all the comedians he'd heard talk about people looking like their animals. It was the first thought he'd had in days that brought him a tiny spark of joy.

“I'm going to the cafeteria and I'm bringing back breakfast. Clean yourself up, I don't eat with slobs.” He scoffed at her as she swept out of the room with her black sweater poncho flowing, thought about calling her the Wicked Witch and figured maybe he'd save that for later, keep it in his back pocket for the next time she sassed him good. Silence fell over the room and he sagged, hanging his head between his knees, replaying the moments before the shot over and over, the words that had stung as they flew out of his mouth. What he wouldn't give to have those seconds back, to bite back his childish anger at not being listened to because like it or not, Rossi turned out correct and if he'd listened more than he'd talked, Rossi wouldn't be hurt.

“Aaron?” came a soft voice breaking Hotch from his trance. He glanced up, saw Rossi's eyes on him, blinking slowly, smiling.

“I'm here, Dave,” he replied, standing, listening to his knees pop at the motion. He moved quickly and stood beside Rossi's bed, watched the slow, stiff way the man moved to get comfortable, noticed the way he looked infinitely calmer than Hotch ever had in a hospital bed. He wanted to apologize, opened his mouth to speak but his friend spoke first.

“Don't you dare,” Rossi whispered. “You're the leader, you made the...best call you could...I shouldn't have argued with you. Bad form.”

“It was the wrong call,” Hotch replied, pressing his hands together to stop them trembling, giving him away. Rossi shook his head slowly, closing his eyes. The morphine threatened to pull him back under, but he fought it, tried to stay present just a little longer.

“If I hadn't argued, wasted time, it would have been okay...” he said slowly, swallowing thick and opening his eyes again. “Not your fault, Aaron.” He held his hand up, its tremble matched Hotch's, and Hotch grabbed hold of it, squeezing lightly, smiling.

“I'm sorry,” Hotch whispered. Rossi nodded, forgiving him silently even if he'd already decided he didn't need it. Prentiss entered the room quietly, seeing the two of them, and she set her food down on the counter beside the sink.

“Go home, Aaron,” Rossi said finally, eyes darting from Prentiss and back to Hotch. “Get some real sleep. I don't want you in my room anymore.” Hotch nodded, giving Rossi's hand another squeeze with a chuckle before breaking away to grab his jacket. He noted that Prentiss had brought enough food to feed an army and as he made his way to the door she handed him a muffin and a bottle of orange juice with a wink.

“Don't worry, we won't get into too much trouble...” she assured Hotch as he left, and on his way out of the door he overheard Rossi ask if she'd brought the scotch or some vodka to go with that orange juice. He smiled and shook his head, knowing finally that Rossi was going to be okay.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #hurt rossi #soft angst