#Bad times when the ex terrorist is doing the best

[drunk-on-starlight]

Y'know we've honestly reached the point where bo katan is probably the least morally fucked up person on a show. Incredible.

[aceduchessdragoness]

Uploaded on 1 January, 2024 by [@]ahmedeldin and [@]hiddenpalestine on Instagram

"An ex-Israeli soldier describes the IDF’s strategy of targeting residences of innocent Palestinians, entering them, and subjecting occupants to harassment. This tactic aimed to instill fear and deny innocent Palestinians a sense of security on their own land, inside their own homes.

Another soldier who is [@]breakingthesilenceisrael shares the horrific reality of his past, reflecting his inhumane treatment of Palestinians and his complete domination over them.

#BreakTheSilence#humanrights#ceasefirenow"

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[id: The video captions read as follows (grammar/punctuation done by me):

[This stays on the screen the entire video] Former Israeli soldiers explain how the IDF acted without any limits, selecting homes belonging to innocent Palestinians, invade them, and harass its inhabitants

1st soldier: Every house in the West Bank actually has a number. Each and every house has a number. So, we would open up the maps and look at the specific house that looked into the right place that we had to enter – (a) city centre or a road – and after we would verify that the house has the best parameters, windows, and geographical area, we made sure the people in the house were innocent. So, you – we – we would enter a house of (an) innocent Palestinian home in the middle of the night.

But I would say that what motivated me eventually to break my silence – was the piercing eyes of the young Palestinians when I was barging into their house in the middle of the night. I could always justify it to myself, but those eyes, the anger, their fear, was what eventually helped me overcome that. The house of a physician in Nablus for example, that I entered in the middle of the night, taking him, his wife, and his daughter, and pushing them in the (a) room – If they wanted to use their bathroom, or their kitchen, or use their phone, they need permission from me. That specific house in Nablus stayed with me for a while because that physician himself was kind enough and generous enough to sit down and explain to me what it means to be a Palestinian. And I thought that I was a good moral soldier, that I was actually helping entrench the occupation in that sense.

[For the second clip, this stays on the screen for the entire time, too] ex-Israel soldier explains what is happening

So this (these) Jewish settlers that live in Havaan are living under the same rights that I live in, in Jerusalem, but the Palestinians next to them, next house over – next building over, sometimes next apartment over – lives under my rule, my military rule. And I can do whatever I want with him: I can take his home as a temporary base for a few hours, to a few days, to a few weeks. I can decide that I’m arresting the people of the house and tying him up to the fence of my base.

If you will get an order to demolish their home, or just lock their front door and don’t let them out into the street – their house is on a street that only Jews (Jewish) settlers can walk on, and Palestinian cannot – so they have to walk through windows to (through) yards into the other side, into the casbah of Lebanon. I think realizing all of that in a very, very early stage in my service help (helped) me undertood that someone was lying to me along the way. I didn’t feel like I’m protecting anyone, I didn’t feel like I’m helping anyone feeling more safe. I feel like I’m terrorizing people, I feel like for the first time in my life, the boundaries between good and bad that I learned as a kid – and obviously I know that I’m on the good side – was broken. I felt like I am the terrorist and my job was literally to scare people so they cannot think about acting against Israeli settlers, or the Israeli military. That was actually our defined mission. /id]

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 4

Find the series masterlist 

You learn some things, do Laswell a favor, and run into Captain again. This is becoming a bad habit. 

Speech in italics is Russian, this chapter. 

Warnings: Swearing, aftermath of violence, vague threat from terrorist, MW2019 typical Russians, blood, injury (not to reader), spy shit. 

Word count: 2k

Serious slow burn John Price x f!reader

You discovered the plot on accident. Really. 

It was just… one of those things.

Sergio had invited you to stay for a few days and play with his girls, so you did. You brought them gifts from Turkey, California, and Scotland (you’d had a layover and had gotten bored in the airport). 

The girls were darling, and you’d known them both all their lives. You would never, ever marry Sergio (not least because of his obsession with the next future ex-wife) but you loved his kids. Sophia and Natalia. For a while, when you’d initially started building this relationship, you’d helped tutor Sophia. 

Now, you played with the girls and helped to keep them out of trouble and helped with their homework. You were more or less the weird aunt they saw every once in a while, and that worked for you. 

The girls were asleep, but you’d been unable to sleep yourself. So you got up, figuring you’d have a little snack or some water and wander a bit. 

Except wandering may not have been the best idea. 

Low voices from a sitting room had you on alert, and you moved as quietly as you knew how, creeping closer. 

“...perfect bait for them,” someone was saying in Russian. Not Sergio. You didn’t recognize this voice, actually. 

“Why do you want to capture one of them?” That was Sergio, sounding vaguely disgusted. “More of a risk this way, no?” 

“You are short-sighted,” the first speaker said. Well, he was definitely above Sergio, then. “Capturing an operative will give us an edge.”

There was a beat of silence. “Still sounds risky,” Sergio grumbled. “But it is your will, so we will see it done. When will you set the bait?”

“It has been set already,” the leader said, sounding smug. “I let information leak about the gas storage, so the Americans will know of it by now. We will be ready this time.”

Well. That was fucked. 

There were days when the back and forth espionage shit got on your last nerve. 

“To a successful hunt, then,” Sergio offered, the gentle clinking of glasses following his words. 

You might be able to hear more if you stayed… But you also ran the risk of discovery. And that would end poorly for you.

Bullet in the head kind of poorly.

So you snuck away back up to your room, debating the best way to alert Laswell. Text was risky, but a call would be more risky, especially here. You couldn’t wait until morning, just in case people were already en route. And since you didn’t have a location… 

You puffed out a breath, walking into the en suite and shutting the door. There was no easy way to do this, and you didn’t trust Sergio not to have bugs planted in the bathroom. So you hummed to yourself as you typed out a quick text.

Gas a trap for info. Advise abort.

There. That was… not your best work, admittedly, but you were a bit strapped for time. It got your point across. 

And, really, if someone managed to get hold of your text records, you had more things to worry about than the wording of a single text. 

She replied two minutes later. Copy. Send updates.

You puffed out a breath. She was so lucky you liked her. (And that you were indebted to her still for her help.) 

Turning the shower on, you decided maybe a bit of hot water would help you relax enough to get to sleep. 

You were very glad you had the girls as an excuse to be out of the house for the fallout of the failed mission. Sergio didn’t tell you anything, but the blooming black eye spoke for him. 

You stayed another week, mostly because the girls pleaded with you to stay. But a little bit because you were curious and wanted to see if you could hear anything else. When that ended up being futile, you booked a flight to Morocco. 

Because why not.

The plan was to touch base with someone you knew who had fingers in shipping pies. (Seriously, the woman was an absolute master. She could get anything anywhere in the world, for the right price.) And, of course, to eat some delicious food, and check on the hideaway you kept there. You had several across the globe, but it had been a while since you’d been to this one. You probably needed to change out some of the non-perishables. 

It was supposed to be a low-key, quiet trip. Relaxing. The only adventure you wanted was wandering through the city. 

It was not a low-key, quiet trip. 

Three days in, you’d restocked your hideaway, contacted your shipping master friend, and found a new place with some of the best food you’d ever had. It was shaping up to be a good trip.

And then a man dropped down in front of you, woozy, dark skin glistening with sweat. The tactical vest was a dead giveaway, but the flag was a surprise. 

You very purposely did not look for a name. But you did do a quick sweep of the rest of him. 

Blood seeped out from under the vest, staining his shirt, and you swore softly.

“You need help.” 

“I’m fine.” But the words were a little sluggish, one hand pressing over the wound at his hip. 

“You need help,” you reiterated, glancing around, suddenly wary. You did not want to be caught in the crossfire of this, and the longer you stayed out in the open, the more likely that became. “Please. I’ve got bandages back at my place.” 

His gaze held yours, suddenly hard, calculating. “I’ve got people on the way,” he said, clearly testing.

“Good, then they can pick you up.” You ducked under one of his arms, your own looping across his back. “Come on, in we go. Before whoever shot you finds us both.”

He gave in, letting you walk him down half a block and inside. He didn’t even complain going up the stairs to your hideaway, though you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“This one’s mine,” you told him, pulling your keys out of your pocket when you reached the appropriate floor. It took a moment to get the door unlocked and maneuver him inside without letting go - he was slowly leaning more on you for support. You kicked the door shut after the two of you and more or less carefully deposited him in a chair. He groaned softly, like he didn’t even mean to, and you winced in sympathy. 

Fortunately, all your hideaways had first aid kits stocked, and you thumped it onto the table in front of him.

“I’ll help if you want,” you offered, taking a step back and putting your hands up, away from your body. “But you are very well armed and I am not.” 

“S’alright,” he muttered, accent effortlessly charming even as he popped open the first aid kit. “I’ve got it.” His gaze lifted to yours, a little less wary and a little more curious. “What’s your name?”

You tutted at him, amused despite yourself. “Does it matter? You need to get patched up and wait until your buddies come get you.” You put two sealed water bottles onto the table for him, already kind of mourning your decision. Dammit, you shouldn’t have brought him here. 

“Thank you.” He tugged his shirt up and out of the way to press gauze to the still-bleeding gash. 

“Don’t thank me yet,” you muttered, more to yourself than him. You stepped past him into your bedroom, taking a quick look around. Only a few things of sentimental value resided here, and you were quick to throw those and a change of clothes into a duffel bag. 

You had to burn this hideaway now. Not literally, but you’d never be able to come back here again. 

At least nothing here would give them more information on you. 

You set the duffel bag on the floor by the door, ignoring his gaze. You let yourself look around one last time. You really liked this place. Damn. 

“Where are you going?” His voice was calm, just a hint of urgency there. 

“Nowhere yet, I suspect,” you said on a sigh, turning to look. He didn’t actually have a weapon in hand, which rather surprised you. “Just getting ready to go once your friends arrive.” 

His eyes narrowed, suspicion growing. Your smile was crooked and understanding. 

“Just because I helped you doesn’t mean I want that kind of attention,” you said, hands carefully palms-out at your sides again. “Nothing personal.” 

He didn’t seem quite sure what to make of you, shoulders tense, fingers twitching. Then he blinked once and lifted his free hand to the radio on his vest. “Injured, currently patching up. Indoors, one unknown.”

Ah. You were likely the unknown. Well. Fair, honestly. You were acting pretty suspicious for anyone who didn’t know you. 

“Solid copy.” His hand left his radio, but his gaze stayed fixed on you. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“And I suppose I’m to wait here until they arrive?” You puffed out a breath. “Alright, sure.” You had contingencies, if you needed them. If you really needed to, you could call Laswell. But you hoped you didn’t have to. 

The wait was silent and felt like it dragged on forever, although in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Two heavy knocks pulled you from your spot, and you opened the door.

And then blinked.

“Captain?” 

His expression immediately settled into a scowl. “Ace.”

“Huh.” You stepped back to let him in. “I take it this one’s yours, then?” You nodded back at the wounded man behind you. 

“Yes.” He stepped past you, momentarily dismissing you to kneel by the injured man. You could hear them speaking quietly, going over the situation. But Captain’s voice had softened a little, care clear in the way he checked his man. He did have a heart after all. 

That would be your cue to leave. 

You picked up your duffel bag and managed to take one step before a quiet, “Sir,” cut you off.

“Where are you going?” 

Captain was glaring at you now, tense, wary. Probably thinking the worst of you. Again. 

“I have to abandon this place now anyway,” you pointed out reasonably. “You might as well enjoy it, get properly patched up before you go.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Is it not enough to know that I’m leaving?” 

“No.” He stood, prowling over to you, using his height to loom over you. 

You debated with yourself, head tilting to one side, looking up at him. You could probably make it if you distracted him with something and ran. Then again, you might not, and you were not in the mood today to be thrown around. 

“I am planning on getting the hell out before whatever chaos you’re involved in explodes.” You kept your tone dry, chin tipping in challenge. 

His lips thinned. “No.”

“You’re not my boss,” you said quietly, stepping into him, refusing to back down. “And you can’t keep me here, not without all kinds of trouble. I’ll be on my way to another country, and you can bug out as soon as you want.” 

He was going to keep arguing with you, you could see it in the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were ready to grab you. But something distracted the both of them, Captain turning to the injured man.

You didn’t wait. You booked it, hauling ass out of the apartment and down the stairs. You heard the yell behind you, but you didn’t acknowledge it, focused on getting out. 

And once you were outside, it was easy to find crowds and blend in, easy to get to the airport and buy a ticket to Cairo. From there, you weren’t sure, but you did know one thing. 

Captain was showing up too often in your life. He was becoming a distraction. And that? That could be a problem.

[callsign-bunnie]

Alright this might be early but I’m curious so part 2 of that aledolfo fic?? Oneshot?? You did please🧍‍♂️

I got a lot of asks for this one which concerns me a little since I promise it's not going to be that great but here! This is a part 2 to this!

--

It'd been almost a year, exactly, since Rodolfo had gone missing. Alejandro thought about Rodolfo every minute of every fucking day. He knew the cartel had to have something to do with it.

There was no way they didn't. Rodolfo just went missing out of nowhere and hadn't been heard from since. That was exactly the cartel's MO.

Alejandro was in hell without his best friend. He wanted him back so so desperately and he was willing to do whatever to make that happen. He had gotten adjusted to the idea of only getting a body back but... God, he would be devastated if that happened.

Sometimes, at night, he'd imagine he could hear Rodolfo's voice in his ear. "I forgive you..."

He'd been drinking for an entire night and he heard, "you promised to stop, why can't you stop?"

Alejandro wished his mind wouldn't torture him so much. Rodolfo was missing, that was bad enough. Why did his mind have to taunt him by imagining Rodolfo's voice every night?

Once, he swore he woke up to Rodolfo laying next to him bed. He looked so real, so... there. But, Alejandro had closed his eyes again and he was gone. He'd imagined it.

Alejandro was not doing well.

When he figured out that Valeria was El Sin Nombre, it only cemented the idea that she'd taken Rodolfo more. Rodolfo didn't trust her but it would have been significantly easier for her to lure him out to take him than anyone else.

So when they got the opportunity to put her in the chair, he didn't hesitated. "Where is Rudy?" He growled, low and threatening.

Valeria seemed almost taken back before laughing. "So he really is missing... I'll be honest, cabron, we though you finally snapped and killed him."

Alejandro backed up, surprised and hurt from the idea. "Snapped and killed him?"

"How do you two know each other?" Graves asked. He was some American sent to track down this terrorist and missiles they were looking for.

Alejandro rolled his eyes. "Know is a strong word." He muttered, glaring her down.

"Strong words are important, no? All we have is our word." Valeria laughed, but Alejandro could see concern in her eyes. He hated that it was there. She had taken Rodolfo, why was she looking at him with concern?

"You sonovubitch! I'll fucking kill you-" Alejandro lunged forward, snarling at her. How dare she give him those eyes when she had taken away the only thing that kept him going every day?! "Where is he?!" He was yanked by Ghost and Soap, two british military officers also looking for the terrorist and the missiles.

"Alejandro! Calm down!" Soap exclaimed as he caught Alejandro.

Alejandro shook them both off and glared at Valeria. Valeria was not laughing. She looked... even more concerned. "Tell them. Tell them how we met."

"I don't take orders anymore." Valeria's face changed to amusement. She'd always been so good at switching like that. Alejandro had never been able to tell what was fake. "Even the dogs in Las Almas know not to bark at me."

Alejandro rolled his eyes. "She's ex-military. We served together. Same unit, different squads."

"My squad was clean cut." Valeria gestured and shrugged. "You- You two were part the wild ones. Los Vaqueros."

"Two?" Soap spoke up, glancing to Alejandro, who glanced back to meet his eye. He saw confusion there.

Bitch. She was playing games with him. "Rodolfo Parra. He was my second in command until a year ago when he suddenly went missing. Right around the time cartel violence stepped up." Alejandro turned to her. How dare she bring him up. "He knew you. He didn't trust you but you lured him so easy, didn't you??"

"You can't get your head out of your ass for five minutes, can you?! We didn't take him." Valeria shook her head, now glaring back. "With how you've torn through us, I wouldn't make the mistake of killing him."

"Then where is he?!"

"We don't fucking know, Alejandro!" Valeria exclaimed. Graves pulled her back in the chair and she shook off his hand.

"So, you, Rodolfo, and Valeria served together." Soap confirmed and both Alejandro and Valeria nodded, glaring at each other. "Valeria took Rodolfo."

"Yes-"

"No!" Valeria shook her head. "Senores, he has torn through my cartel this last year. I wish I had known who he was looking for. I would have fucking helped. It's well known in the cartels that there's one man you don't touch."

"Alejandro Vargas." Graves nodded, chuckling. "I've heard what they say about him."

"No." Valeria snorted, crossing her legs. "Rodolfo Parra. You touch Alejandro Vargas, you make sure to put a bullet between his eyes, sure. No man is unkillable. But... you touch Rodolfo Parra... you put a bullet between Alejandro Vargas's eyes first. Rodolfo is scary in his own right but... he's not... like Alejandro. Well, was scary, I suppose."

"Who else would have taken him, Valeria?" Alejandro didn't believe her at all. She could use flowery language to convince everyone else, but he knew her. If she suspected for a moment that killing Rodolfo would weaken Alejandro, she'd do it.

Valeria furrowed her brows. "Well, maybe the other cartels aren't as smart as me. Roba, for one."

Alejandro heard Ghost shift behind him, frowning. "He would not be so stupid."

"You should see what he does." Valeria snorted and leaned back again, sighing.

"We're not here to recover your second in command, Vargas. If it's alright with you, can we get back to the topic at hand?" Graves' voice was gentle, it was clear he wasn't trying to offend Alejandro.

Alejandro waved his hand, since Valeria had made it clear she wasn't going to tell the truth. He'd make her tell the truth, later.

-

Alejandro ran a hand over his face as he walked into his room. They planned to take a night before heading out to find Hassan. He was exhausted, so he didn't have any arguments with this.

The fact that Valeria had so willingly agreed to work with them was a shock to him. She hadn't even made any demands. Later, when Alejandro had went in to question her again, she'd pleaded her case.

"Alejandro. Rodolfo would be my greatest bargaining card. I could get you to do whatever I want, right now, just so you could get him back. Hell, it's crossing my mind to lie and say I do have him just to get you to stop ripping my cartel to shreds. But... I'm not. Why?"

"Because you like to torment me."

"No. Rodolfo was my friend, too. I will admit that I have ordered him to be grabbed a few times to distract you, but even you have to admit that I made sure he wasn't fucking touched the entire time."

"If you didn't take him, who did then? Someone had to."

"Maybe he left."

"Rodolfo wouldn't leave like that. He- regardless of our relationship, Rodolfo never knew how to leave quietly."

"Find your terrorist. Find your missiles. When you're done, I will personally help you find him."

"Why? Why would you help me find him?"

"So you stop destroying my cartel. You are a base level threat when you're with your other half. Without him? God save Las Almas."

Alejandro was left with more questions and he didn't like that. He wanted answers, not questions. But... admittedly, she'd convinced him. He didn't think she'd taken him.

But who did?

Alejandro started to peel off his gear, glancing around his room. God, he was exhausted. He hoped they would find Hassan quickly. Then they would all leave and he could hopefully go back to finding his best friend.

Alejandro turned on the light, finally, jerking back when he saw Rodolfo sitting in the corner. "Ru-" no, his mind had to be playing tricks on him again.

Rodolfo smiled at him and Alejandro knew it was a trick, then. Rodolfo didn't smile. He thought he did, but no one else could see it. Rodolfo had had so many years of schooling his expressions into perfect indifference that he'd never been able to just give expressions back without a lot of effort.

Alejandro took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Rudy would be gone when he opened them again. He knew that. He always was.

Alejandro slowly opened them but... Rodolfo was still there. "Rudy?" He asked, carefully.

"Why would you do that??" Rodolfo asked, now frowning deeply.

Alejandro frowned. "Do what?? Close my eyes??" He didn't trust this at all. No way was Rodolfo gone for a year and he was now back in the corner of his room. Maybe he hadn't blinked it away, but he... knew Rodolfo was not actually in his room. His mind had to be tormenting him further.

"Goodnight, Alejandro." Rodolfo got up and went to the bed. His movement... was all wrong. Rodolfo was fluid with his movements. He was doing it to compensate for being clumsy, but... this thing moved choppier. It's gait swayed back and forth, well more wobbled.

"You're not Rodolfo."

Rodolfo stopped and turned to Alejandro, slowly. His face contorted into a terrible smile. A horrible, wide smile. Alejandro's heart stopped at the sight of it. His eyes widened and he was tilting his head to the side. "Alejandro, you're scaring me..." It's voice sounded so frightened, so hurt.

Alejandro's heart pounded and he backed up to the door, his hand feeling for the gun he kept by it. "What are you?"

"Alejandro wouldn't say that. Alejandro doesn't love me. You got it wrong."

Alejandro stopped and stared at it. "What?"

Rodolfo's face melted into one Alejandro had seen before. His eyes filled with tears and he looked at Alejandro with such pain. It was so convincing. Alejandro would have believed it was him in a heart beat. "Alejandro wouldn't say that. Alejandro doesn't love me. You got it wrong."

Alejandro's heart broke. "Do you... mimic?"

The smile returned and it laughed. This was not Rodolfo's laugh at all. It was wirey, high pitched. Like a scratching record, almost. It's head swung back as it laughed. It was taunting him. "Please, Alejandro." It said, when it was done.

Alejandro backed up more, reaching for his gun. Fortunately, he didn't have to do much, because Soap was suddenly bursting into his quarters. In a blink, the thing was gone.

"Your radio was going ballistic! It was practically screaming!" Soap explained. "What the fuck was going on??"

Alejandro stared at the space where Rodolfo had been. Had his mind gone that far to play tricks on him? Or had something that could perfectly mimic Rodolfo been in his room? "I don't- did you hear words from my radio?"

Soap frowned, clearly confused. "No. None at all. You were just talking to something that was... screeching. It's why I came to check on you."

"Are you superstitious, hermano?" Alejandro turned to Soap. No, there had definitely been something in his room. Whatever it was, he was almost positive it had taken Rodolfo.

Soap stared at him for a moment. He must have been able to see it in Alejandro's eyes. Because a moment later, his face grew solemn. "I am."

"What do you know about things that can mimic?"

--

Part 3?? I hope this wasn’t a super disappointing part 2

[rewritingcanon]

If you don’t mind me asking? why do you believe that Slytherin is a terrible house? Draco was an asshole and some of the other Slytherins(Crabbe, Goyle). although throughout the entire series the golden trio were practically bullies to most Slytherins for no reason(more so in the books)? Slytherins at hogwarts were usually mistreated due to their reputation of producing dark wizards, as if Ravenclaw doesn’t have almost just as much 🙏 plus how biased the entire school facility were with Slytherins, honestly i wouldn’t expect Slytherins to act the best when the whole schools against them.

And Slytherins being bullied or mistreated isn’t a new thing, especially by Gryffindors(Ex; Golden trio, marauders, fantastic beasts).

And whats your take on Ron? i’m a bit meh on him, as he was a good friend although i still can’t forget or excuse him

-Bullying first years

-Abusing his Prefect status

-Almost calling Ginny a slut

-abusing Crookshanks

kinda confused a bit because i don’t remember ever calling slytherin a terrible house lol. i’ve said that slytherin was written with the mind to make it a bad house, with all its characters being pretty morally bleak. hp is not supposed to be very morally complex, all the work in that is mostly credited to fandom.

as readers, we’re positioned to sympathise with the golden trio being mean to slytherin characters more because they have the moral leverage of not being blood purists or terrorists. maybe harry had no reason to go after them at first, but hermione definitely had as a muggleborn, and ron was constantly getting slandered for either being poor or a blood traitor. granted, this was all mostly from draco. the other slytherins are one-dimensional characters who serve as his lackeys, there’s not one that’s properly fleshed out except maybe severus snape and even that’s iffy for a lot of fans.

yes, ravenclaws did have death eaters, but not to the same extent that slytherin was producing them. most death eater characters have unconfirmed houses, the only ravenclaw we actually know to be a death eater is quirrel and thats it. so they’re actually tying with the amount of death eaters gryffindor produces (pettigrew), not slytherin. everyone else— lestranges, blacks, malfoys, crabbes, snape etc— are slytherins. this is unsurprising as salazar slytherin literally wanted to gatekeep his house from progressive and inclusive ideals.

i have many gripes with the oppressive world jkr has written— i don’t think she understands how oppression operates because i agree with what you say about most of the hogwarts staff treating the slytherins like shit. in reality, the ones who are oppressed should be the ones discriminated against, but in the hpverse you see the oppressors getting treated badly. im not saying i think slytherins should be presented as the oppressed, its just horrid writing on her part.

i really like ron, i think he’s a really well fleshed-out character with realistic flaws and a good arc. i cant remember when he bullied first years and i don’t remember him abusing his prefect status in any extremely terrible way that would lower my opinion of him. i do remember him almost slut-shaming ginny, and though i think it was terrible of him i also think it was a realistic thing to say from an older brother to a younger sister in the 90s. i have a younger brother and you should clock some of the arguments we’ve had over the years in the 2020s. it’s within the same vein. ginny was pressing on ron’s sore spots as little siblings do, and ron was attempting to compensate by biting back in any way he could. it was realistic to me. and its been a while since i read the books but ron bitching about crookshanks read as comedic. granted, i was like 11 years old when i read them, but i remember thinking it was justified because to ron, crookshanks was literally trying to kill his pet. he’s not going to be chill around something thats tried to eat his rat multiple times. when someone is attacking your pet, you get scared and angry and try to fight back in defence of your pet because you want to deter that animal from trying anything like that again. they obviously can’t understand you if you simply lecture them. i once had to do something similar (i did not physically fight anything though LOL) when i got a new cat, and our neighbour’s cat would constantly attack and injure him every time we let him outside. and that was a cat v cat, this is a little mouse versus crookshanks 😭😭

[anaja-theratbird]

You Guys Have Committed Crimes, RWBY

Ruby:

Spent too much time walking around like a Hot Topic advertisement. Probably thinks "Whispers in the Dark" is the greatest Skillet song of all time.

Weiss:

For all her strides in becoming a better person she never properly apologized or made amends to the damages her family legacy caused SDC employees. She alone probably owes $420 million to the Faunus, smh. 😞 Her name means White Snow, yet she never shanked her dad or told off her mom for being so bland.

Blake:

Was a member of a terrorist organization. Her crimes are too numerous, including bad taste in white men. Did not dropkick her ex for asking to be his kawaii nyanya cat. Emo.

Yang:

Property damage, didn't interfere when her sister committed fairy tale suicide, is too good at posing coolly and confidently in a gay way.

The Happy Huntresses:

They're too good to be the target of so much RWDE. Fiona is the only one spared and RWDE would still get mad at her for beating the crap out of someone for hating on her three wives.

Adam:

Massively despised murderous stalker terrorist ex yet I always forget he exists, git gud, smh

Raven:

Partied too hard and congratulated herself too much when she found out she wasn't the worst parent in the show (that's Marcus). Doubled it when Yuma won the award for being the edgiest person. Doesn't pay child support even though she's 95% of her daughter's issues. Easy to make fun of. "I LEAD OUR PEOPLE NOW AND AS OUR LEADER I WILL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO ENSURE OUR SURVIVAL"

Kali and Ghira:

Best parents in the show, never came back after Volume 5.

WBY w/ Jaune:

They let Ruby drink the tea. wtf. trashbags.

[eridanidreams]

OC Introduction: Sloane Delacourt

Fandom: Deus Ex

Role: Foil, Mirror, Romantic Partner

BASICS

Full Name: Athénaïs Sloane Delacourt

Preferred Name: Sloane

Nickname(s): Peril, Princess (only Adam calls her that one)

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Occupation and Titles:  Previously: Staff Sergeant Sloane Delacourt, United States Army, 10th Special Forces Group, 1st Battalion, Alpha Company, Operational Detachment Alpha 0113 (aka the "Wild Boys"). Now: Independent do-gooder (don't you dare call her a mercenary or she will hurt you).

Birthday & Age:  34. DOB December 7, 1995.

Physical description: Sloane is 5'11", broad-shouldered and athletic, with auburn-copper hair and grey eyes (artificial). She has shrapnel scars along the right cheek and up through the eye; high cheekbones and a strong jaw. Both arms and legs have been replaced with high-end Sarif augmentations. (Faceclaim: Jessica Chastain)

Clothing style: She is half-French, and therefore she knows exactly what to wear at any given occasion. She just tends to prefer the kind of occasions where it's best to wear a t-shirt that says "Once You Have Pulled the Pin from Mr. Grenade, He Is No Longer Your Friend".

BACKGROUND

Daughter of David Sarif and Violette Delacourt, she was conceived as a failed attempt on Violette's part to get David to play ball with the Illuminati. When that didn't pan out, Violette tried to raise Sloane as her heir apparent. Instead, Sloane did the thing she knew would piss off her mother the most: she enlisted in the Army. Her test scores were high enough that she was shunted right into the Special Forces pipeline (which had just opened up to women). After training as a Special Forces medic, she was assigned to ODA-113, who became known over the next decade for their expertise in shutting down rogue biowarfare labs.

They were so good at their job, in fact, that the Illuminati used one of their "private contractor" contacts to crash their plane on an op a month before the events of Human Revolution, leaving her critically injured.

At the time of the opening of Odysseus Gambit, Sloane has been augmented with a special set of augs (built and secretly provided by her father) and is absolutely chewing the walls in her enforced retirement…

COMBAT & SKILLS

Preferred fighting style: Close-combat with pistols, shotguns, or knives. She'll fall back on martial arts if she has to, and she's a decent marksman with a rifle, but she likes to get right into the fray.

Favorite weapon(s): A Jaeger & Ritter Knight Tactical Compact Pistol in .45 ACP, initially; later a 10mm Aspid.

Special skills: She can patch someone up with chewing gum and duct tape while laying down a wall of lead.

RELATIONSHIPS

Family: David Sarif (father: estranged through her childhood, now trying to have a real relationship with her); Violette Delacourt (mother: a high-ranking member of the Illuminati currently believed dead)

Love interest: Adam Jensen. (Just don't tell her that. She's... still figuring it out.)

Best friends: Stefan and Hantz Gerber, Strickland Hall, Aria Argento and Eliza.

PERSONALITY

Positive traits: Brave, Protective, Compassionate, Smart

Negative traits: Impulsive, Arrogant, Angry, Stubborn

Likes: Dancing, Parkour, Extreme Sports, Killing Bad Guys

Dislikes: Bigots, Terrorists, Bioweaponeers, and Idiots in general

Fears: Falling in love

Guilty Pleasure: Letting Adam cuddle her.

Hobbies: Dancing, cooking, eating what she cooks, killing people that seriously need killing

[lovelyzealousangel]

Ginger and Cardamom

01 | Jake

Series Masterlist (Tag yourself here)

Coming here was a bad idea, this was exactly why he worked alone.

Jake had been standing outside her studio apartment for the past five minutes. Dragging her into his life was never going to end well. For all he knew she could be lying dead in the same dumpster she found him in a few weeks ago.

"Why is she not opening the door?"

Khonshu, the Egyptian god of the moon towered beside him, looking rather amused.

"You do not even know her name? Why do you care if she lies dead somewhere? You are moon knight, my fist of vengeance, you do not need anyone. Not the way the others do. We are wasting our time here."

"Can you be quiet and let me think," Jake mumbled as he searched his pockets for something that might help break the lock. But before he could find anything he heard her voice.

"What do you think you are doing?"

She pulled Jake by the back of his collar, forcing him to face her. The anger in her eyes quickly dissolved into understanding as she realised who Jake was.

"It's you"

He looked at the nurse, giving her a once-over for any signs of injury. She didn't look injured. He could feel his shoulders drop, as he exhaled. A calm washed over him for the first time since coming here. She was safe...and covered in glitter.

"You were not answering the door, been standing here a while" Jake offered.

The nurse sighed, giving him a disapproving nod as she fished around in her backpack for the keys. She was wearing a black top and jeans. His eyes lingered on her figure for a brief moment but he quickly came to his senses as she pushed him aside once she had found her keys.

"Was at the pride parade all day, then went to a friend's place. If you would have just asked for my number like a sane person might have saved some time."

She pushed the door open and they stepped inside her small studio apartment which made Steven's place look like a mansion in comparison.

Jake chuckled, "Oh that's what you find weird about this. If you were interested cariño, all you had to do was ask. You find the man you pulled out of the dumpster not long ago at your door, covered in blood probably needing stitches and this is what bothers you. Not knowing my name. For all you know, I could be one of those super terrorists that have started popping up."

Jake sat down on the couch and began opening his shirt. He was stabbed by one of Harrow's men while searching for his whereabouts. Usually, he would have gone back to the house but the others have started suspecting things and he could not risk a switch by going there. So he decided to pay the kind nurse a visit. She had patched him up the last time and given him some of her ex's clothes.

"You know what, fair. I should kick you out but I won't. You clearly don't have a lot or you wouldn't be here again."

She pulled a first aid kit from her kitchen cabinet and began setting up the contents on the countertop. Then walked up to turn on the light that was behind Khonshu. Though the god was invisible to anyone other than his avatars most of the time, Jake had a suspicion that if someone came too close they might feel his presence, evident by how quickly Khonshu moved out of her way.

"Move the couch closer. I need to see how bad it is."

Jake did his best to move the couch closer to the light. She sat down on the stool next to him and began cleaning the area. Jake could feel his skin burn as whatever was in the gauze touched the open wound.

"Just so you know, you don't look like the type of guy who would be a super soldier. Maybe it's my absolute lack of self-preservation skills but you don't feel any more dangerous than a guy I could match with on tinder."

That caused Jake to cough as he choked on the air. "What kind of people have you been dating? Nothing about this is normal."

She bit her lip trying to stop herself from smiling.

"I can not take more of this. It is child's play, stop distracting yourself. You will hear from me when I have something" Khunsho declared before dissolving into the dark corner.

"I promise it's not that bad. Crime has gone up in the area since people came back. When I found you I just assumed that you got mugged or something. Though now I'm beginning to think that is not the case."

"See you are starting to catch on. Though you never said you are not interested." Jake teased, bending over a little to be closer to her. He could not deny that she was beautiful, even more so in the dim light. Sure he knew nothing would come of it, but it couldn't hurt to look.

"Stop moving and let me focus. Flirting will distract me and I really don't want you to bleed out on my couch."

Jake dramatically moved his hands over his lips, as if he was zipping them up. he winced in pain as she started putting the stitches in.

"Why can't you go to the A&E? I mean I'm not even a practising nurse anymore. I'm worried that this might be infected, you should really get it looked at"

Perhaps Jake was being too hopeful in thinking she wouldn't ask too many questions. He thought about what to say. Nothing he could say would make her believe her. Jake had no idea why he had even bothered to come here when he could have easily used the suit to heal. There was just something so comforting about her presence, perhaps he was looking for something that could take the pain away. Pain that the suit could not heal.

In the end, Jake settled for a half-truth, "Couldn't go home looking like this. The others would worry."

When she was done, she offered him some chai. Jake thought about Steven, and how he would have loved to have a cup. But Jake politely declined, not wanting to burden her any further than he had to.

The last thing Jake could remember before he fell asleep on the nurse's blue couch, was her talking about how big of a jerk her supervisor was. And if it wasn't for the people she would have left her job a while back.

[strawwritesfic]

Brock Rumlow x Female!Former SHIELD Agent!Reader: Revenge Is a Dish Best Served Fried

Summary: All old flames grow cold eventually–Excepting, of course, yours.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (bad language, torture, physical abuse, beating, brainwashing, post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

Fic Trade Prompt: “Don’t make my job too easy~ ;)” Plus, I got to pick the character to write for this time around.

Revenge Is a Dish Best Served Fried

You awoke with a start in complete darkness with one hell of a headache pounding through your skull. Where you were and how you’d got to wherever that was you didn’t know, but it didn’t feel like you’d come along willingly. A multitude of invisible cuts stung up and down your body; your stomach felt as though it had had its contents punched out of it recently; and maybe you couldn’t see to confirm this, but you were pretty sure your left eye was swollen shut. Worst of all, every cell inside of you felt dry and hot and buzzy, as though you’d spent the evening before playing test subject for a new line of Tasers.

But what had happened mattered very little in comparison to your present predicament. You could catalog injuries once you were definitely safe. It didn’t take long for you to decide that your current location wasn’t that. Straining your ears, you heard nothing. No hum of electricity. No faint whir of a security camera. No chattering from anyone keeping guard. Eerie, you thought, until you decided to stand up…

…and found your arms clamped tightly to a couple of armrests. You had not realized that you were sitting down in an actual chair until you were unable to lift your wrists. Try as you might, no matter what angle you used, the restraints wouldn’t budge. Your ankles were in a similar state. Gritting your teeth, you mentally prepared to dislocate the bones. Nothing you hadn’t done before, but never a pleasant prospect. On the count of three. Three…two–

“Good morning,” came a deep voice from another corner of the room, “sweetheart.”

The sudden appearance of someone in your cell was not what caused you to freeze. No, you only stopped your attempts to get loose because you recognized the voice. You squinted into the dark. Still you could hear no breathing, see nothing further than the pitch black two inches from your nose. But then again, this man should have been a ghost.

“Brock?” you asked, voice raspy. Sounded (and felt) like you’d been smacked in the trachea, too.

A rumble of laughter answered you, but no footsteps. “I don’t go by that name anymore. But it’s good to hear you haven’t forgotten me entirely. Thought you might have, the way you’ve been treating me.”

Those three sentences were all it took to force the shock out of your system and flood it instead with frustration and anger. You clenched your fists into useless balls, rattling your cuffs as you did.

“I haven’t been treating you any way,” you said. “Not since INSIGHT. Not since Hydra.”

You glared in the direction from which Brock’s voice had issued, but still you could see no sign of him. Wherever you were, there were no windows. He had to be there, though; you hadn’t heard him move away or out. Sure enough, when he spoke again, he sounded close by:

“Don’t pretend that you leaving had anything to do with either of those.”

“Oh yeah? And why else would I leave you? Because you’re such a wonderful person, I’d be a fool not to stay?”

This time, the silence that stretched out after your final question lasted long enough for you to start wondering if Brock really was in there with you. He always did know how to stay silent and still–a boon working as the head of STRIKE–but even he had to shift sometimes, even he had to breathe. Maybe he had an intercom rigged up. You tried to hold your breath to listen for him again to no avail. Then you did hear a breath, a long, rattling almost laugh.

“Oh, I don’t know.” A click sounded just before the room was flooded with light. Your eyes snapped shut to avoid the pain that surged through your already throbbing head for what little good that did. “How about this?”

It took you a few seconds to force your eyelids back open. Sure enough, your left would hardly move. Through what remained of your field of vision, you could not see much through the sudden haze of light–not much outside of a dark shape in the corner of the huge room, that was. You blinked, and the figure came into focus: a dark-haired man sitting against a wall of security deposit boxes, and wearing thick, dark armor. As soon as your gaze reached his face, Brock grinned.

“Normally I wear the mask.” He stood, gesturing to a helmet sitting by his feet. It, too, was black, but with a skull blasted across its face in white paint. Then Brock kicked the mask to the side and strode purposely over to where you were clamped to the chair. “But I don’t need to wear it for you. No secrets between us, [Name]. Isn’t that right?”

Up close, you could see his features better even through your damaged eye. However you looked, you definitely looked better than Brock. His face was a twisted mass of reddened flesh. As you took his new appearance in, he drew closer, leering down at you. You shrank away, but all this did was make him chuckle.

“I thought so. Couldn’t stand to be with someone so ugly, could you?”

You swallowed thickly. “I didn’t see that before I left.”

Brock laughed again. “You’re a damn shitty liar. Always have been. You think I didn’t know? You think I was deaf and dumb under all those bandages? You think I had any delusions that my girl would stay by my side after Captain America demolished a building on top of my fucking face?!”

His voice rose in volume and intensity, and with each sentence, he thrust himself further into your personal space. You made yourself stay in place, though your heaving chest betrayed your fears.

“I left because you were working with Hydra, Brock,” you said, willing your voice to stay even. “Because I don’t want to be with a terrorist–”

“Terrorist!” he shouted, and for one blessed moment he stepped away from you. Unfortunately, he was soon back and closer than ever, his nose practically pressed to your own. “I’m a mercenary, sweetheart. I work for the highest bidder, and don’t you go pretending you’re not just the same as me.”

“I’m not like you. I don’t work for Hydra. I don’t work for SHIELD anymore either. I’m doing real work, good work, with the–”

“With the Avengers. Yeah. I heard.”

Despite his claims to have already known about your present employment, Brock appeared put off by the news. He turned away from you, pressed his hand to his mouth, and shook his head. You took advantage of his distraction to again attempt to get at least one hand out of your shackles. Too bad they seemed to be made for someone much, much stronger than you.

And then Brock was back, smiling so widely that his eyes turned to half-moons inside their scarred lids.

“I was good to you, wasn’t I? Brought you flowers, like a good boyfriend. Took you out for dinner. Walked you home from work, cuddled with you at night, bought your goddamn tampons! And what did it get me? What good did any of that do?”

To that you had no proper response. All you could do was stare, captivity momentarily forgotten in the light of the dawning realization that your ex-boyfriend had gone completely insane. Yes, Brock had done all of those things for you, for years. You had been happy with him for all those years. You had thought you’d been lucky to be with the guy that headed STRIKE, one of SHIELD’S golden boys, the most handsome man in the whole organization. All the same:

“I don’t date Nazis,” you snarled.

“Is that what you think I was? A Nazi?” Brock shook his head, but then seemed to drop the subject, his mind wandering as his dark eyes traveled up above your head. “Never let the higher ups take you in, either. Wasn’t like they didn’t want to. Good enough to be an Avenger, Agent [L Name]. Could’ve had you conditioned by someone who knew what they were doing, and we would have never been in this mess.”

“What mess?” you asked, if only to keep Brock talking. A little further, and you thought you might have a chance of dislocating your wrist just enough to slip out of Brock’s restraints.

Brock said nothing.

“Brock,” you said once more, “what mess?”

He seemed to only then remember you were there. His eyes drew slowly down until he was staring right into yours, seemingly oblivious to your desire to get free. “

Tell me you still love me, [Name],” he said, sounding almost normal.

“Excuse me?”

“Tell me you still love me,” he repeated. “Tell me you still love me, and none of this has to happen.”

“None of what has to happen?”

“Just tell me that you’ll take me back! The rest of it doesn’t matter. Just tell me that you still love me!”

You mustered all of your energy, looked Brock dead in the eye, and spat in his disgusting face. He froze.

“The man I fell in love with was just that–a man.,” you said breathlessly. “What are you? Some burnt shell, that’s all that left. Not even enough courage to take me on face to face. You’re pathe–”

One thickly gloved hand shot out viper-fast and put your jaw in a vice grip. Brock’s lips pulled back into a snarl that gave way to another laugh that raised the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Careful, [Name]. I brought you here to kill you. Don’t make my job too easy.” He winked, a gesture that you did not return. His smile faded as his fingers gripped your chin even tighter. “Either you’re leaving here mine, or you ain’t leaving here at all.”

“And what is that supposed to mean? You’ve been babbling since you got me here. Tell me what your plan is, if you’re so proud of it.”

He considered you for a long moment–too long. Your jaw ached; you could feel his fingers pressing bruises into your skin. At last, he released you, then gestured up to where he had been looking only a few minutes before.

“You’re sittin’ in a real special chair, darling,” he said as your own eyes traveled upward.

Your heart gave a great thud as you realized exactly where you were. You’d seen the Winter Soldier’s files, and unless you could get out of there, you were screwed.

“Brock–”

“See, this here bank’s a front for Hydra,” Brock went on as though he couldn’t hear you. Who knew? He was far gone enough that maybe he couldn’t. “But they dropped it like a hot potato after Rogers fucked over Project INSIGHT. Once upon a time, they used to strap Cap’s old war buddy into this and fry the living daylights out of his skull. Only saw it done a few times myself, but how hard could it be?”

“You wouldn’t.”

His new, predatory smile returned. “Wouldn’t I? How do you know I haven’t already done it? That’s what this setup is for, after all. Memory loss. And I want you back pretty damn bad.”

He had a good point. Your head definitely felt like it had been put through the ringer–but unless a lot more time had passed than your body could account for, you still had all your memories. In fact, you had enough memories to know that you weren’t about to beg this man for your life.

“You’re not going to get away with this,” you said in as dangerous a voice as you could muster.

Brock ignored you, walking over to where a very obvious lever had been installed near your chair. Before you could say anything more, he pulled it, and your chair–Bucky’s chair–shifted slowly backwards. The mechanism above your head jolted to life, then drifted down toward your head. Only then did Brock answer you:

“Who’s gonna come for you? SHIELD? Don’t make me laugh. They know about us. They’ll think you were in on it all along. A Nazi terrorist, just like you said. Always spouting the company line. And the Avengers?” Here he did laugh. “Think they got better things to care about than where you slipped off to in the middle of the night. Never got in the habit of staying in one place too long, did you?”

He was right. He was right, and what was worse, begging was beginning to seem a better and better option the longer the whirring in the chair went on. You rattled your wrists, rattled your ankles, arched your back to strain with all your strength against your bonds, but nothing moved or loosened. Of course it didn’t. This machine was built for a super soldier. What were you compared to Bucky Barnes?

Brock Rumlow’s haunting laugh started up again in nearby. His hand reached out to press your shoulder back hard against the backrest.

“Don’t worry so much, [Name],” he said. “I might not have the finesse to pick and choose what you forget, but it’ll all be over soon either way. When you wake up, we’ll either be back together or–well, you’ll believe that we are when I tell you. I’ve got big plans for us. Real big plans.”

You opened your mouth to retort. How, you didn’t really know–but any possibility of a retort vanished the very next second. All that came out of your lips was a scream as the surge of electricity from HYDRA’s brainwashing device slammed into your head. You opened your mouth again, and let out another scream. Brock chuckled one last time before he gave your shoulder a final squeeze.

“Welcome back to the dream team, [Name],” he said, but Brock Rumlow had vanished from your thoughts. The whole world had vanished from your thoughts. If you weren’t lucky, neither of them were ever coming back. Everything from there on out was pain and order, order and pain.

[radmerrmaid]

I. i don't want any trouble (it just chooses to follow me)

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo asks you to be his escort and partner in crime for the week. And you can't really afford to say no.

Pairing: Helmut Zemo/Reader, past Steve Rogers/Reader

A/N: Besties, it's me, full on my Zemo bullshit. Comments, reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated. Message me with a cute review to be added to the taglist :-) I'll love you forever.

Warnings: Slow burn. Angst. Non-canon compliant. Pretty Woman!AU (i think?). Criminal activity. Mentions of character death (Zemo’s Family). Anti-superhero talks. Alcohol abuse. Age gap. Mentions of prostitution.

READ ON AO3!

***

To put it simply - having Baron Helmut Zemo back in your life could either mean a wonderful opportunity or a death sentence - the best thing that could happen, or your worst nightmare. And at that moment, it’s very hard for you to decide which one is it.

He’s different from what you remember. Back then - before Sokovia, before Steve Rogers, before the Snap - Zemo had this hint of dangerousness, melded with politeness and discretion - even a hint of malice that came out almost involuntarily in the corners of his mouth whenever he felt pleased. Right now, it seems like every drop of that infamous energy fits perfectly under his skin, almost twitching like a spark between his fingertips — pure and raw confidence from a man who knows exactly what he is capable of and that he won’t settle for a negative answer.

It’s a client, a very special one. High pay. A definitive chance of turning your life around. In your line of work, a loyal client that pays well is hard to come by, and because you’ve been away for a few years and very low on credibility and connections - and also desperately in need of money - it would be impossible to get a better chance to go back to the glory days of your career. And god, were you eager for that.

“Do you have an answer for me, dear?” he asks sweetly, for the first night tonight.

Helmut Zemo sits across from you elegantly; he effortlessly finds you into the same bar you’ve been on every night for a few months now, and today he even managed to not look so out of place. You are certain that the soft purple sweater and the black jacket are all designer clothes - but they successfully make him blend in under the dimmed lights. The bright glint of a Bulgari watch is enough to separate him from mere mortals, though.

He waits patiently for your answer with a glass of scotch, his calm demeanor evidently opposite to your agitated and anxious energy, fingers fiddling with the paper label of your beer, finding it almost impossible to relax under his sizzling and demanding stare.

“I told you to go fuck yourself and leave me alone. Isn’t that answer enough for you?” you pointed out, voice touched with boredom. Zemo’s smile widens at your rudeness, actually amused at your bad-mannered remark; you hate how it makes you feel like a disobedient child - the superiority aura an effective way of reminding you not to forget who you are talking to.

Well, if anything, he is persistent – you recognize, bitterly. You’ve been telling him to get fucked ever since he asked for the first time, but you supposed not any amount of expletives will ever answer a “yes or no” question – especially when it’s clear that you can’t afford to say no. But you definitely should say no, right? Because… Damn, where to start? There are about a million reasons why you, an unemployed private detective who also happens to be Captain America’s ex-girlfriend, shouldn’t say yes to Helmut Zemo, a terrorist convicted of killing innocent people and currently evading high-security jail God knows how.

Jesus, just thinking about it makes your head spin. Instantly, you wave briefly at your friend behind the counter to bring you something stronger – thank fuck he owns you a favor and lets you drink for free; it is becoming harder and harder to pay to forget what a mess your life is.

It’s been a couple of weeks now; no matter how many times you tell him to go fuck himself, he’s there again a few days later - between painfully bright alleys in empty supermarkets and dimly lit bars, he presents the proposal again: six days and six nights of your services to help him locate some items that were stolen from him. Oh, and he also needed you to pose as an escort while he steals them back. At the end of the heist, you get paid - more money than you’ll ever be able to spend in a lifetime.

The truth is – you want to say yes.

You wish you could blame it on the alcohol; the way your body seizes with excitement while fear, curiosity, and nervousness all simmer fervently inside your belly with the possibility of going back to work. Sure, alcohol makes you outstandingly reckless, but no amount of beer can explain you actually being interested in working with Zemo - the guy responsible for dismantling the Avengers.

Two shots of vodka appear in front of you and you down them immediately, chasing the buzz that it’s going to make this whole interaction way easier - and erase the tint of guilt that it’s already burning and consuming you slowly from the inside.

“Let me guess”, he starts, calling your attention back to him as he sips his bourbon, “you’re thinking about how wrong it is to be having a drink with me”, his tone is tinged with sarcasm. “Should I remind you that we used to work together in the past? With all of our transactions running smoothly, I may add.”

It is a bit infuriating, how calm and unbothered he is about this whole situation. In his defense, you are not as disturbed by his presence as you should be. You haven’t called the cops yet, right? But calling the cops meant having to deal with the cops yourself – and most likely, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, so yeah, not a chance.

“Why me?” you ask back, abruptly, both dodging the mention of the past and genuinely curious. As much as you wanted to get back in the game and be obscenely paid, you also didn’t want to end up being a part of his “world domination” plan. Isn’t that what super villains do? “You single-handedly dismantled the Avengers, and there are at least a hundred professional girls you can find in this town that can be more helpful than me.”

He gives you a presumptuous smile, most definitely taking your sarcastic commentary as a compliment: “Well, as far as the world is concerned, I’m currently serving my time in the Raft. We don’t want anyone to think otherwise.” he gives you a wink, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You drink your beer absently, and glare at him when something occurs to you: “well, I have to tell you: if this is about Steve Rogers, then I’m most definitely out.”

Zemo lets out a brief smile at that, as if he were expecting the wariness. “I assure you, I have nothing but deep respect for Captain Rogers - now that he’s retired. This is not about him.” he frowns, and intensifies his gaze, removing all the previous playfulness of his tone to add, “a professional escort won’t work. I need you.”

The way he phrases it, accompanied by the earnestness of his stare, makes you look away, a little embarrassed without knowing why. God, even sitting across from him, feels wrong – makes your skin prickle with excitement. The opportunity dances freely, unashamed in front of you, shining mischievously just like the glint of his brown eyes. You did work with him before, but it was never like this; back then, he was a polite and weirdly friendly army officer who gave you assignments, not a dangerous murderer with the potential to bring super-powered heroes to their knees.

“I understand the trepidation,” he says casually, bringing you back to the moment. “But I must tell you, we have a very specific window of advantage, and I like to use it in our favor.”

He is right. With your mind already making the connections, you realize that whoever stole from him would move fast to get rid of all of it soon, not to attract attention from the new Captain America or The Winter Soldier. News of his imprisonment hit the fan about two weeks ago; you would have to move twice as fast, shake a few dangerous trees to know if there’s good shit coming in from Europe. With a product as expensive as this, it would be difficult to convince your old sources to open their mouths, but you knew what buttons to push. Also, your rent is due next week, and you need money, fast.

You only realize how wide and pleased his smile is getting when it’s too late. The gears turning in your head are almost too noisy to ignore, and Zemo can see it right through you. No professional escort would work that fast.

God, you wish you could hate him. It would be so much easier – to just get up from this chair and tell him to go fuck himself again, but mean it this time.

“Shut up.” You warn before he can open his mouth, but you both know he doesn’t have to say anything. Fuck, he is annoying. Zemo’s presence causes a duality of raging emotions; anger, yes, but you have to admit that there’s something - an urgency that instigates that familiar and almost forgotten suggestion of something exciting. And if his offer is anything to go by, god, it is exciting, all right. Easy money and a chance to go back to the way things were before the Snap – before Steve.

You take another gulp of beer. Zemo stays patient, as if he has all the time in the world to wait for you to sort all your bullshit and collect the remains of your pride before saying yes. You sigh heavily, focusing on your rent due next week and the zeros on your bank account.

“Six days,” you announce, finally, trying to leave the anxiousness out of your voice. “You’ll have me for six days. After that, you and I are done.”

You immediately curse yourself for the double meaning, and he doesn’t say anything, but the smile he gives you before he raises his glass to you sends a menacing spark through your spine, and, you realize with horror, the quick shock of arousal you feel has little to do with your bills finally being paid.

***

You met Zemo for the first time in a small café in Paris. It's uneventful, really. Not a remarkable meeting at all; except for the part where your mind decided you needed to get into his pants as soon as he sat across from you.

At this point, it's interesting to mention that it was unusual for you to met with clients face to face. Having zero contact with them meant more discretion and more focus left for you to do an exceptional job. Usually, your associate did all the negotiation, but Zemo pays a few thousand dollars extra to get the results directly from the source, so you decide to make an exception - and you instantly regret it, of course. It's not that you were scared, or didn't know how to deal with people that may be dangerous. It's just that you were… unprofessional.

He easily could be mistaken for one of your professors back at school, you think, scanning his attractive profile while he orders, smiling charmingly at the waitress. It's hard to imagine he's an Army officer, much less a dangerous man, like you associate warned. He's polite, unnervingly so, even wears a wedding ring - that you embarrassingly feel very disappointed upon noticing - looks directly into your eyes, and asks questions about every little detail about your investigation.

From the very first time you've met him, you find yourself wishing this wasn't a business meeting, more often than it's safe for a woman in your position. Between meetings in Paris cafés and slightly awkward conversations about your lives, it’s almost too easy to fantasize you’re on a date with a much older man, maybe some guy you’ve met in a book store, and actually allow yourself to have fun with him.

The truth is that you were a college dropout, now turned private detective and bounty hunter, who desperately needed to go out more, instead of following people around to take covert photographs - or maybe break-in into their apartments in exchange for money.

It's not the first time you need to track down a person instead of an object, but this time, it takes you almost twice as much time. Usually, clients aren't interested in your methods, but Zemo asks for a full debriefing of your search - and you end up feeling pleased to explain your routine to someone. The brown envelope stays on the table, separating the both of you during all the conversation, and he doesn't even look at it during your explanation - which makes you feel strangely awkward as if you are being interviewed for a job.

"Your father was right, you are a very good detective."

You don't expect the compliment or even the mention of your dad, so for just a heartbeat, your mouth twitches up, and then you're clearing your throat.

"Uh. Thank you", you feel like a little girl being praised, your shoulders nearly touching your ears while you involuntary squirm. You're surprised, too, because, usually, your associate never mentioned the fact that you were his daughter to anyone. "Hopefully this address will help you find what you're looking for."

"I'm sure it will, liebling", your eyes widen for a moment when you hear the pet name, but he's already picking up the envelope, dropping a small suitcase filled with cash - and a disposable phone - at your table. "Nice work. I'll be in touch."

He hires you six more times - but the meetings happen way more often than you'd expect. You have your share of loyal clients, people that always come to you when they need something to be found - fast and quiet. But Zemo works closely; not only does he pay for six weeks of expensive accommodations in fucking Paris, but he also texts frequently, asks for a meeting every time your search comes up with something interesting, and it's always… weird. Not in an unpleasant way, but it doesn't feel normal, mostly because you have a hard time ignoring the massive attraction you have for him.

"You are very good at this," he tells you one day during lunch, voice filled with awe; almost like he's proud of your efforts. It fills you with some sort of giddiness that you are used to it by now - you have to muster a lot of self-control not to squirm at his compliments. You managed to track down a woman that escaped jail in Sokovia within three days of her arrival in the States, and Zemo's satisfied smile makes you smile right back at him.

You know you are good at this - it's the reason why you decided to drop out of college to sell information and find valuable things and people for cash. But you aren't used to compliments; your associate tries, but you feel like he is too busy handling your clients and too enamored with the money coming in to noticed how your skills have been improving.

"Thank you" you answer shyly, not knowing exactly what to say back, so you opt for honesty "It's actually fun. I like it."

You don't know why you said that, but once it's out, you feel strange. You haven't even admitted to yourself, but yeah, you liked it, even if it's not exactly an honest job - after all, you're pretty sure a significant part of your clients are criminals, mobsters, thieves, and, at the very least, billionaires that don't want to be bothered contacting the police. An army official it's the cleanest you've ever dealt with, and you wondered if dealing with people on the wrong side of the law didn't bother him.

"What about you? Do you like what you do?" for a heartbeat, you worry that you may be intruding, but he doesn’t seem to mind, actually frowning as if he's in deep thought about your question.

"Sometimes", he shrugs, and then puts a hand at the brown envelope on the table, your latest lead on another missing's person case "I like puzzles, the hunt" he sighs and then sits back on his chair "other than that, it's just… duty."

You didn’t expect that much honesty - but you smile at him all the same, because, yeah, you get it. The hunt is fun - hacking into security cameras, sealed files, and restricted systems; faking emails, and even voices on the phone. Staking out for hours on end to make sure the lead is legit, it's all fun. But other than that, you're really glad you have your associate to deal with all of it.

"Yeah, me too."

It feels intensively intimate, in a way that nothing has ever been. Not bad, because the conversation is always so easy with him as if there’s an invisible spark that calls you to him, that entices your curiosity and makes you want to know more - even if he’s just telling what his son thinks of the new park they visited.

It's the last time you see him before turning the TV on a week later and seeing Sokovia floating in the air - and then dropping onto the ground again. After that, you see his relatives' names in a newspaper; in a list of identified fatal victims of the disaster.

You don't even think that he's alive until you hear his name again two years later; laying in the bed of some three stars hotel in Eastern Europe - coming out of Steve Rogers’s mouth.

***

[zuko-always-lies]

Why Azula Staying a Villain Will Only Lead To Bad Stories[anon submission by justanotherthrowaway1950]

People say that Azula should stay a villain usually do to some combo of the following: she was born evil; her mental illnesses are untreatable (especially in her time); it would cheapen the redemption arcs we have already seen; she exists only to be a foil to Zuko; she needs to remain a villain to show what would have happened if Zuko had everything he wanted at the start of the show (and why what Zuko wanted at start was ultimately bad); and that she is better as a villain. But regardless of all that, I think the best reason against keeping Azula a villain is that we have already seen what Bryke will do if they keep Azula a villain.

Illogical power buffs despite spending two years in captivity to the point one could make a credible argument that she is the strongest non-Avatar, non-bloodbender, and non-sprit fused character in the franchise.

Shoddily relying on vaguely alluded to asylum abuse (and a word of god statement) to justify one of the smartest and cunning characters in the franchise engaging in several half-baked plots that don't really seem to further any of her goals or help her satisfy any of her desires.

Giving her Gaang-tier asylum inmates to serve as her new hench-women, either because they are scared of her and/or being manipulated, which doesn't make sense since she no longer has any political power and thus they can ignore her once she breaks them out. Not to mention she doesn't seem to have regained all of her mental faculties (ex. her Mochi rant during Smoke and Shadow and how her eyes bulge out like crazy!Azula in The Search at the end of the rant). 

Or because she became non-ironic friends with them, which doesn't make sense since Azula during her time in the asylum was clearly not in the mental state to take care of herself, let alone make friends not relying on her status or fear-mongering. Especially when The Search has Azula blame "Ursa" for making Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee stop fearing her, heavily implying Azula still thinks fear is a good way to maintain relationships. Not to mention two of them almost killing Aang after incapacitating him if it wasn't for his plot shield granted by LoK (he needs to die as a 66 year old man so he can reincarnate into Korra).

But most galling, how everyone starts acting stupid and incompetent (and thus denigrating them and their arcs/character growth) whenever Azula is involved so Azula can remain a credible threat despite The Gaang all being masters in their respective fields and having the resources of several nation-states at their beck and call plus a PMC (The White Lotus).

Like when Azula burned all those letters, how come Zuko didn't order his guards to pat her down?

When Azula escaped into The Forgetful Forest and Zuko said he tried, does that mean Azula managed to evaded an Avatar State power seismic sense? Or that she evaded June's shushu? Did Zuko call Toph or The White Lotus to help him capture one of the biggest threats to his throne and world peace? And so, what does it say about them that a mentally broken Azula still managed to evade them?

How was she able to break out six girls from her old asylum without Zuko finding out? Moreover, how come Zuko, or anyone for that matter, never asked any of the asylum workers what Azula was hallucinating about? For if they did, maybe Zuko wouldn't have taken Azula to find her literal trigger warning and put his beloved mother (and her family) in danger. In addition, how come no one asked Azula who "she" was?

But I admit all of the above this assumes Azula was getting relatively modern treatment and that anyone cared about her mental health, which doesn't seem to be the case. I don't blame them (I don't believe abuse victims have to help their abusers and nor do I believe that the oppressed have to help their oppressors) but still, are they world leaders who have been proven to be highly competent in the past when dealing with sensitive issues? So what changed? 

How come Ukano was willing to work with Azula to restore Ozai for the sake of his nation and family when not only is Fire Lord Zuko indebted to him for life due to Mai saving him at The Boiling Rock (not to mention Zuko offering him a job when his governorship disappeared after Bumi retook Omashu), but also when one of the first things Ozai would do after taking back power is killing Mai for her treason (imo, it is clear that after Zuko's defection, the only punishment for treason was death, with no chance for life in prison like Iroh had)?

How come The Gaang plus Zuko don't spend every waking moment after Smoke and Shadow hunting down Azula when she has made it clear with her actions (engaging in mass kidnapping with her own terrorist group and manipulating other terrorists groups to serve her ends) that she would do anything to turn Zuko into a tyrant? Especially considering this the same person who conquered Ba Sing Se as a 14 year old with just two childhood friends and her brother and thus her threat to Zuko at the end of Smoke and Shadow is anything but hollow?

For doesn't The Gaang have a responsibility to ensure that the fragile peace they have built remains? Especially when it is mostly their fault that Azula got free and that it is their general incompetence that allows Azula to remain free and a threat?

But on a more serious note, the biggest issue with Azula's character, or the comics in general, is LoK. For thanks to LoK, we know everything ends up being ok and that Zuko has a long and prosperous reign.

Thus, LoK hamstrings' Bryke's story choices; for example, if I told you that at one point Azula would escape after being cruelly locked in an asylum for two years due to being a madwomen and that she had become the GOAT fire-bender (her lighting manipulation and smoke generation put her in a different tier from everyone else imo) and H2H fighter in ATLA, you would assume that Azula would be leading a plot to overthrow Zuko and eliminate everyone in her way along with everyone who betrayed her en route to restoring the old regime. But instead we get Joker!Azula whose "true destiny" is to make Zuko have one day bad so he'll turn out like her even though the audience knows thanks to LoK she'll never succeed, making the whole thing a waste of time for the reader. And now Bryke wants to write more stories for Aang's time?!

IMO, unless they retcon LoK and/or the comics, it appears the stories they can tell will be lackluster for the reasons I already articulated. But who knows, I might be completely wrong (and boy do I hope so).

-Submitted by justanotherthrowaway1950

I think you raise some excellent points. The comics do no character any favors. Joker villains tend to be incredibly stupid and boring, and turning Azula into one of them while ignoring all of her canon motivations was beyond stupid. And you're right, if Azula is still trying to involve herself in politics in order to further Fire imperialism, she should be remaking the world in the process and continuing to be an active threat. She has the power to single-handily destroy the entire post-war order, and the Gaang should be acting like she does, not fucking off to their own lives and ignoring the problem.

Ironically enough, there's an argument to be made based on LoK that Zuko largely turns into the same sort of tyrant his father was, just acting for a different cause. But apparently Bryke see nothing wrong with extrajudicially locking people up forever in torture prisons designed to just barely keep people alive.

The one point I would like to make is that I haven't heard any evidence that Bryke are actually interested in doing more stories in Aang's time. Avatar Studios has said nothing to that effect. Ironically, their involvement with the comics might prevent them from doing more damage there, because they would almost certainly have to retcon the comics in order to tell a story post-war and they might be reluctant to do so. The other thing is that they had an opportunity to do a story in this time period in the past, and instead chose to do LoK.

[therenlover]

🍄 34 with Zemo pretty please? 🥺 Congrats on 1000 sweetie!

Thank you so much anon!!! I hope you enjoy this!

Talks In The Barbie Car, A Helmut Zemo x Reader Drabble

Prompt: Holding Hands While Driving With Helmut Zemo

Rating: G

Warnings: Mentions Of Jumping Out Of A Moving Car (Nobody Does)

Word Count: 600~

-------

Helmut had been driving since long before you had ever met him. Casual cruising, the occasional Grand Prix back in Sokovia, dirty drag races along back streets in Madripoor; if there was a car, he could drive it and he could drive it well. That meant that he was usually the one behind the wheel when you traveled from place to place in a vehicle. This time was no exception. 

The two of you were speeding down some highway in Germany in a convertible Helmut had only taken out of the safety of his garage at your insistence. It was flashy, a brilliant pink thing that looked like it would belong to a life-size barbie doll, and you had nearly fainted when you saw it in the corner gathering dust. With some begging and more than a few kisses, Helmut had finally obliged you. Now, you were living out your childhood dreams as he merged lanes and you stretched in your comfy leather seat. 

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self where you were now, you probably never would have believed it. Jet setting across Europe in a whirlwind romance with an escaped criminal was definitely not considered within the realm of possibility for you when you were a kid, and yet here you were, enjoying the soft breeze as Helmut turned up the radio and pressed his foot down on the gas. It was a little like a dream. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckled. 

It took you a minute to get out of your own head and answer him. “I was just thinking about the past few months,” 

“In a good way or a bad way?” 

“Definitely a good way,”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I assumed you were plotting the best way to bail out of the passenger seat, so I was going to advise you to wait until we reached a non-terminal speed. I even would have pulled into the left-hand lane so you had somewhere soft to land,” 

“You know I’d never bail out of a car without taking you with me,” you chuckled. As you spoke, you let your hand creep over to the gear shirt and take Helmut’s digits into your own. “Besides, why would I leave? What could I get out there that I don’t already have now with you?” 

His palm was warm against your own. Despite his background, his hands tended to be so soft and pleasant against your own. Even the gentle traces of callous on his palm and thumb were simply pleasant when he ran that finger up the length of your wrist in slow, calming patterns. 

“Stability, freedom, the security of knowing you wouldn’t be charged as the accomplice of an escaped terrorist…” 

You scoffed. “But nobody out there could love me like you do, Helmut. They couldn’t fly me to my favorite restaurant at the drop of a hat or cancel all their plans for a week whenever I get sick to nurse me back to health, and they definitely couldn’t spend a week tracking down my asshole ex just to scare the shit out of him,” 

“You don’t know that for a fact,” 

“But do you?” 

Helmut sighed and squeezed your hand a little tighter. “I suppose you’re right, as always, Schatzi,” Despite his exhausted tone, the ghost of a smile was playing on his lips. That was enough for you. 

“Of course I am,” you giggled, keeping your fingers interlaced with his as you leaned back in your seat. “Now step on it, Hel, I wanna be in Paris by tomorrow,” 

“As my Baroness commands,”

With that, he let himself push the gas pedal down and sent the convertible into high gear, hurtling down the empty road and into the sunset without a single glance back at the world you left behind.

[glitterfairy-21225]

In which Peter has a child while stuck in the mcu: *takes deep breath*

He’s definitely living with Wanda post WV, so she’s there.

I don’t know a lot about inhumans but I know a little. Maybe Crystal is on earth for some reason, or the royal family just invites Wanda to the moon after learning about Westview b/c they want the tea, I guess. But Crystal and Peter meet.

They don’t get married, they don’t even officially date, so when Crystal announces she’s pregnant literally everyone is blindsided.

Wanda’s reaction is the best. She doesn’t say anything, but it’s her facial expressions as this is all going down. Her facial expressions.

Peter panics. Obviously. He runs around frantically with no rhyme or reason. He trashed his room. He’s screaming at a pitch only Crystal’s giant dog can hear.

He confides in Wanda about his piles of daddy issues, compounded by the fact that he never told his father the truth.... And also the fact that he was a terrorist.

But now it’s like, what happens if he goes back to his universe. He doesn’t want to to be an absentee father.

So he makes a difficult decision to stay in the mcu for the child. He still wants to go back to the x men to make sure his friends and family know he’s okay, but he wants to stay with his kid.

In the wake of his decision, Peter is high on emotion and decides that he needs to go the extra mile for this fatherhood schtick.

So he and Crystal elope.

Literally. Everyone. Thinks. This. Is. Questionable.

They’re divorced before she gives birth.

Not even a bitter divorce, just a ‘Ok, marriage at this point was probably a mistake.....’ divorce.

He and Wanda binge watch kids movies that came out from after he was taken from the x men.

Labor time!

Peter’s definitely a ping-pong whatever. When Crystal cries, he cries. When she screams, he screams.

But then Luna is born and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life, and he just can’t. He’s crying on his own behalf.

Crystal holds her first, and then Peter, and the first thing he says to her is with teary eyes, so loving, so tenderly, is ‘You are gonna piss so many people off,’ in the softest voice you can imagine.

When the rest of the family comes in to meet her, Peter turns on the Lion King music, which he saw in the binge, and holds her up.

Wanda gets to hold her next, and Peter’s all ‘Meet your Aunt Wanda, Luna!’ And it’s a moment, because yeah, Tommy and Billy called him uncle, and he’s made it clear he loves them as such, but that was when he was brainwashed, so this. This is such a moment for Wanda.

And Wanda misses her boys so much, but the amount of love she feels for this girl overwhelms her bad she really believes she’s not alone anymore.

Afterwards, the three of them (Peter, Wanda, and Luna) are all curled up on a hospital bed together. Like they would be if Peter was the one who gave birth, but instead they just stole a bed to cuddle on because they’re emotionally drained.

Crystal is giving them the side eye from the other bed like, *guys it’s my special day too.*

Peter looks down at his bundle of joy and decides to make a speech to her.

He takes a deep breath. ‘Luna Maximoff’ (‘We did not discuss last names, Peter!’) ‘Your father is.... the problem in every relationship he has ever had. Except for the ones with people who are bigots, those guys suck. And he’s gonna be problem in ours. But I promise you, even if I make a million mistakes, and I will, I will try my very best to make sure you are the one person in this family who’s life isn’t made up of one traumatic experience after the other. Because you are the love and light of my life.’

Awwww.

Oh and Wanda definitely has a himym moment where she looks back all the stupid stuff Peter has done and thinks, ‘That guys a dad now.’

Except her flashback was from that morning.

Of course, that doesn’t get rid of all his deep emotional baggage. And he’s so worried about messing Luna up that he’s a complete motherhen.

He rants to Wanda, ‘Let’s face it, you and I are both going to hell,’ Because even if he loves Wanda, he’s not gonna excuse what she did to Westview, and for himself he has self esteem issues. So Wanda is :000. But Peter just continues. ‘But I really don’t want that for her!’

Anyways, Wanda starts hearing her kids and that kicks off their next big adventure, with Peter reluctantly leaving Luna with her mom.

He writes her a final letter in case he dies so she knows he loves her very much. But don’t worry, Peter’s not gonna die, so this is just a character quirk for now. It’s always quirky until someone dies.

I know that the ‘X men see WandaVision broadcast’ thing should logically stop after episode seven, but for this we’re gonna say the broadcast showed the entire, actual show, with all the SWORD and Agatha stuff. And then it starts playing Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness! And there’s a flashback to Luna’s birth.

It’s been a few years, and the x men have already had a funeral for him, so seeing this is..... wow.

Raven’s long since spilled the beans to Erik about his son, and he’s not been taking it well.

So seeing that his son is not only alive and well, but that he also has a granddaughter, (and maybe even an au daughter) makes him cry in front of everyone.

Also, maybe the team was just a bit unappreciative of him, not enough for us to bash them, but enough to make them feel guilty. So seeing him thriving without them stirs up some emotions.

Also maybe he has an ex on the team, and it ended because Peter’s bad at handling things. For maximum feels.

They know from the broadcast that Peter plans to stay in the mcu with his daughter and that makes them all sad, but it’s a really good reason and they’re almost all sensible enough to accept this.... After a proper goodbye of course.

We’ll get back to Erik’s feelings in a sec.

They make a portal, and all go to the mcu to help out in the final fight. They reunite with Peter, who runs to get Luna, even though she’s not on earth, so that they can all meet her.

Erik holds Luna and goes ‘You will lead millions! Willingly or as slaves.’

It reminds him of holding Nina and he wishes he held Peter and it’s so special.

They say their goodbyes.

Meanwhile, Erik is conflicted, because his child (children) is staying in alternate universe and this is where his granddaughter is, so if he can’t convince them to come back to the x men verse then maybe the best thing he can do is move to the mcu.

But Charles a school to look after, so that leads a horrible question; Will Cherik have to break up again?

Doctor Strange just rolls his eyes and says fuck it, because reality is already messed up so why not? And he gives the Maximoffs a key to crossover whenever they want. And it only works for them.

So Luna has all the inhumans and all the x men loving her so much, with the best dad, aunt, and grandpas in both worlds.

And of course with the coolest cousins a girl could ask for!

[jackson-t-escobar]

Call it magic

 ~ Chapter I ~

Pairing: Ivar x Heahmund (Modern!AU)

Word count: 1.1 k

Summary: How to deal with a breakup? Ivar still doesn’t know, even after a few months. And when he meets his ex again one day, the chaos is perfect - between immature brothers, sex with the ex and the decision whether to forgive or to forget.

Tags: hurt/comfort, fun, smut, fluff, family bonds, brotherly love, age difference, jealousy.

If you want to be part of the tag list (or be removed, doesn’t matter xD), just send me a DM. I will not post this on AO3, this will be a tumblr story only. I hope you enjoy this!

@youbloodymadgenius​ @jadelynlace​

Ivar stared out the window, watching people scurrying past with umbrellas or something else over their heads to escape the thick drops. They were almost all running, and the street was slowly filling with the cold water - the lights of the cars reflected in the rain, almost bathing the surroundings in a magical, warm atmosphere. Ivar was glad to be inside - his fingers clawed more fiercely into his hoodie, and he rested his chin lightly on his folded forearms while his blue eyes followed the drops on the window.

It had been a few months since Heahmund and he had parted ways. And although Ivar had enjoyed the time off for a very long time, really letting off steam - he was slowly getting to a point where it didn't seem to be going any further. It was now autumn, and the days were increasingly overshadowed by rain and cold; the time when you sat in front of the fireplace in the evening with your partner, in front of the TV, watching Netflix. Autumn days were cuddling, baking cakes and cookies, watching the bad weather. Preferably with a warm arm around the middle of your body, pulling you closer as soon as there was even a slight shiver at the thought of being outside.

The breakup had only really hit Ivar consciously a few weeks after the actual breakup. They had been together for almost a year, but not publicly - since Ivar had still been 17 at the time, and not even close to being of age. It had been best to lie in bed with Heahmund in the evening, while Hvitserk - the only one who had known - had covered for him. Had told their parents lies about why Ivar was gone so often on weekends. And why his grades had gone down just before he graduated from high school, because he had only had the older man on his mind all the time. Heahmund had been 30 when it had ended.

"Hey, do you plan to watch TV like a normal person again sometime, or is someone out there running around naked?" his brother Hvitserk's voice interrupted the silence; Ivar didn't flinch, but cursed inwardly because he had bitten his lower lip slightly when he was startled. He did not say anything at first, but tried to remove his slightly sad expression from his face. After all, Hvitserk didn't necessarily have to know that he'd hit rock bottom once again.

"I like to look outside. Of course, you uneducated cretin don't understand that because your IQ also only lasts from morning to noon," Ivar said quietly; he released the clasp from his hoodie and with a casual movement turned to Hvitserk, who also sat down on the wooden floor with his younger brother.

For a moment they looked at each other, then Hvitserk snorted softly. "Is it still because of him? You need to forget about him for once, honestly."

"How am I supposed to forget him, huh? Unless you mean your tip that you use 90% of the time," Ivar snarked, and Hvitserk raised his eyebrows with a grin.

"Fucking is the best cure for everything, Ivar. Headaches? Fucking. You're late? Never mind, one more round will do. You actually have to work? Lay the colleague." he said, amused, and Ivar rolled his eyes with a slight click of his tongue.

"I'm surprised you get so many women anyway. They must smell your stupidity - stupid fucks well, as we all know. It almost can't be anything else."

"Ah, is that so? And you?"

"Me?" Ivar said quietly; his gaze went back out the window for a moment, then he sighed softly. "I've been trying out, haven't I? You know that, too. But somehow... somehow, they're all... shallow. And stupid, like you."

 "That's no reason to mope, after all, when you can blow something else," Hvitserk said, earning a juicy kick from Ivar against his upper arm in return, which he merely commented with a slight "Ouch!" and a laugh, while Ivar himself couldn't help grinning. Sometimes his brother was really annoying, but his big mouth usually managed to get Ivar back on track. Or at least distract him for a few moments.

"What do you say... We go out for dinner and figure out where we can get drunk to death this weekend. Okay?" Hvitserk suggested, and Ivar took a deep breath in and out.

"Mom will kill me if I still don't know what I want to study after this weekend."

"Dude, I've got a cure for that: fucking a professor."

"Hvit, man. Be serious for once!"

"We'll do it when we drink. That's the best idea, that way we can do both in one go. Ha! Call me genius, my little brother."

Ivar rolled his eyes but slammed into Hvitserk's hand. His incisors dipped slightly into his lower lip again, and Hvitserk snorted softly.

"What was so great about him, please? Besides you being into dilfs, which is really disgusting. Forget him, he broke up with you on fucking Valentine's Day. What guy does something like that?"

For a moment, that sentence hit Ivar deep in the heart. He had repressed that day well all these months, but he couldn't forget it. Deeply it had been burned into his mind; he had planned so much for that day, had wanted to surprise Heahmund. But all he had gotten was an ice-cold breakup on the grounds that he hadn't been sure how he felt. And it had been Ivar's hate day ever since - never again would he feel good about Valentine's Day, and was already planning to poison happy couples in the park. He hadn't been able to explain to his mother why he had cried constantly through two weeks, and why he had hardly eaten anything in the evenings. Even his other, almost terroristic brothers had sensed something, and had left him alone that week.

"All right. You're right. The last time I saw him was a while ago, anyway," Ivar said, letting Hvitserk help him to his feet; and it wasn't until he was standing that he grinned slightly as Hvitserk's warm hand passed lightly over his shoulder.

"Exactly. He's probably grown fat, and much older. You won't recognize him if you ever meet again - unless Gandalf the Grey is suddenly standing in front of you on the dance floor, asking you for a drink."

For a moment the brothers stared at each other, then they both snorted and laughed. It was painful, yes - especially because it was the first time he had been truly in love. But it had to go on, and somehow Hvitserk was right - even if most of his suggestions and advice ended up with having sex with someone somewhere. Ivar took one last look outside before following Hvitserk into the kitchen; the streets outside were almost deserted, and the lightning of thunderstorms could be seen behind the city's skyscrapers. Oh, how Ivar loved autumn.

[allhailthecoffeegods]

A lonely kitty in Gotham

Chapter 1

Tired... Marinette was extremely tired. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep but instead she sat staring at the wall of her office in her small apartment she had bought and was now living in because her parents kicked her out.

Why was she staring at the wall you may ask? Short answer, she had finally done it! She had finally tracked down Hawkmoth and Mayura after 3 years of fighting she now knew both of their identities (Gabriel Agreste and Natalie Sancoeur) and not only that but she had an entire file filled with proof. Now all that was left was to take back their miraculous and hand them over to the police (not before cursing them first... obviously).

Unfortunately it’s not going to be as easy as it sounds. You see Marinette or Nettie which she goes by now was alone, completely and utterly alone.

No Parents, no family and no friends.

Three years ago Nettie had all of the above she was happy, she had a best friend Alya and a group of many friends from her class, she had two loving but slightly distant parents who ran the most popular bakery in all of Paris possibly even France and her amazing grandmother Gina who traveled the world and told her all about the crazy things she did (some of which she promised not to tell her parents about because it may have been considered breaking the law but nothing reallllly bad).

But all of that soon changed over the first year Hawkmoth terrorised Paris with his akuma and was later joined by mayura with her sentimonsters. Slowly she lost everything including her partner in fighting crime Mr.Bug holder of the ladybug miraculous.

Nettie is in procession of not only the black cat miraculous but also forcefully became the last remaining guardian of 18 other mini gods that are bound to jewels (excluding the butterfly and peacock (not that she would ever give them up because they are basically her family now and she will do absolutely everything to protect them)). How?

Running late to class 3 years ago she saved a (very) old man (186 years old to be specific) from being hit by a car, and for some reason that was enough for him to “gift” her the black cat miraculous as he saw her true chaotic soul and aura (it didn’t matter that she was only 13 YEARS OLD!) he thought it was a brilliant idea to turn her into a child soldier fighting a war against two supervillains more than double her age.

After and introduction to the one and only God of Destruction, who by the way is OBSESSED with the stinkiest of cheeses, she became one of Paris’ main superheroes Kitty Noir alongside her partner Mr.Bug who she guessed to be around the same age as her at the time. It was easy to deduct that he was going to be more of a problem instead of a partner due to his obsessive and intense flirting and lack of skills other than some possible fencing training, all in all he didn’t have a clue how to fight. He was also apparently extremely reckless... like more reckless than her pouring 2 energy drinks into coffee before downing it and has died so many times in a fight she now also has a close relationship with tiki the God of Creation having had to end the fight herself (honestly why did the old guy pick him because it seems like he didn’t even do a similar ‘oh help save me’ situation like he had with her otherwise the old guy would already be dead!) Even though she wasn’t that much better to begin with she did have some hand to hand combat training curtesy of Gina and her ‘friends’ (let’s talk about those later). And she was now training in martial arts and going to the gym to build more muscle and become better without the enhanced supersuit just incase (she also sticks a domino mask on before transforming because she’s paranoid okay and if she is ever forced to detransform she doesn’t want anyone knowing her identity right of the bat to use against her, okay!)

Alongside that she was also extremely smart (like genius level) great with technology and quick to come up with some absolutely insane but brilliant plans. This all resulted in her taking on more of a leadership roll whilst fighting akumas. Mr.Bug only got worse as time went on and her civilian life went downhill, it took 8 months for the old man (previous guardian of the miraculous and temporary mentor for 2 of the months) to become compromised and pass the roll onto her. And the first thing she did was take the ladybug miraculous back and erase the holders (Adrien Agreste her former friend) memories of being Mr.Bug.

The only problem with that was the battle Miracle queen where master fu (the old guardian man) was compromised, and so were all 8 of her temporary heroes except Viperion, holder of the snake miraculous, who had started to tour around the world with his farther Jagged Stone) this ment there were two consequences of taking The ladybug back, the first being she was now alone against two superpowered terrorists but also that she had to switch transformations at the end of a battle to be able to purify the Akuma and cast the miraculous cure to fix everything and yes that did include... resurrection of people who died in the cross fire.

Anyways, back to how Nettie is alone. Only a few weeks after the first attack, an exchange student transferred to the the newly dumbed Akuma class *sigh*. At first she seemed nice and had and was telling the class of her interesting life, her mother was a Italian diplomat and she’s traveled the world.

But Nettie had a bad gut feeling about Lila Rossi which unfortunately was correct. On her third day in the class she started gushing over how kitty noir aka Nettie dearest (obviously unknown to everyone else) saved her from and Akuma attack and they became “best friends”, to say Nettie was left speechless and confused at the lie is an understatement.

Regrettably Nettie was unable to prove her story was a lie because how would she know said superhero didn’t save her without revealing her secret identity.

But the girl carried on creating more and more outlandish claims, such as how she saved Jagged Stones cat on a jet runway (like come on seriously what airport would allow a CHILD of even a cat to run out onto the tarmac). But pointing this out was apparently a mistake which Nettie soon discovered in the girls bathroom after class. Lila sauntered in with a sickly sweet smile that was soon dropped when Nettie refused to give into this girls bullshit.

Hence she was pinned against the wall and threatened, that if she didn’t go along with lie-la’s lies she would lose everything she loved before leaving so she wasn’t caught. Not believing her Nettie continued to point out inconsistencies and facts that contradict her story’s but no matter how much proof was presented to the class lie-la was able to turn it around (meta theory coming into her head: maybe she wasn’t affected because of the miraculous magic) and plant the idea that Nettie was a bully into all her friends heads which apparently all share one brain cell ( or so she thought until Adrien confirmed he knew they were lies to but he was taking the ‘high road’ because nobody was getting hurt, it’s definitely not like lilas ruining all there future careers by promising favours and opportunity’s that will never come and convincing them they no longer need to put in any effort for their futures *insert eye-roll* ).

So life continued and her friends started to turn on little Nettie the scattered brained, clumsy girl who bent over backwards to protect and make sure they were all happy. It hurt more than words could describe the day Alya her BEST FRIEND led the class to turn their backs on her and declare they no longer want to be friends with a jealous bully anymore.

Luckily Nettie wasn’t akumatised but she came very close to it. The only things keeping her going were her duty to Paris and her family.

But as a consequence to that good luck, bad luck hit like a truck. She didn’t know for a few weeks until a guy named Jason called her parents to inform them that her favourite person in the whole world her amazing grandmother Gina had passed away in a accident somewhere in the United States. And if that wasn’t bad enough Lila also managed to place a seed of doubt in her parents around the same time. Life fucking sucked. She wasn’t able to process and grieve due to Hawkfuck still being around so instead she threw herself into creating her own business (NeTi Designs) doing commissions, did I mention she’s a talented fashion designer... no, well now you know. As well as diving head first into a very thorough investigation on mothfucker in between fighting Akuma, helping in the bakery, plus training and patrolling the city of lights for two hours each night.

Atleast she didn’t have to make excuses to not hang out with her ex-friends anymore heh heh *cough*.

Eventually this resulted in her parents questioning her on her disappearances from her room after randomly checking in one night while she was out patrolling and the conversation sort of went like this.

“Marinette, where have you been?! I just checked your balcony and you weren’t up their. It’s 2am” Sabine exclaimed when she dropped back onto her bed moments after detransforming. “Mamma I swear I was up there and I fell asleep in the corner near my pillows behind the deck chair. I just woke up from the cold and I thought I herd movement and panicked because ‘oh my gosh!’ Is it an Akuma but it wasn’t it was you mamma” Nettie responded with dramatic waving of her hands and a fake smile.

Sabine was NOT impressed and most certainly knew it was a lie but it was 2am and she couldn’t deal with this right now so she glared at her daughter whilst leaving her room through the trapdoor.

This continued for two weeks with both her parents randomly checking in. Nettie had to eventually relocate her research into a small apartment a few streets away from the library (which she paid for with commission money that nobody but her knew about especially since her business was doing well and she didn’t put it past her class to try and destroy that if they ever found out) and say she was studying to not be caught doing deep background checks on all her suspects, making files for every Akuma and tracking the butterfly’s on a app she created that has multiple resources available to the public ranging from an alert for attacks that can be activated all the way to videos she made in her hero persona showing things such as meditation or basic self defence that should only be used if they’re unable to get to a safe area away from the Akuma or to buy time to then get away depending on the powers of said Akuma. (Could also be useful in regular crimes like attempts at mugging)

This lead to longer disappearances to the point all her stuff that had any value to her or was related to business and miraculous matters (so basically everything) she was practically living there already. Not that she realised since she got maybe 5-6 hours of sleep and week? She was so enclosed in her little world when her parents decided they had enough (after multiple accusations of her sleeping around with older men and doing drugs (all tests came back negative because her choice of drug was caffeine) which where definitely lilas doing) her parents yelled at her to get out and never come back... so she did the only thing she had to grab where her pillows and fairy lights and she was out of the door, the situation was dubbed a future Nettie problem because ya know suppressing your emotions so the world doesn’t end.

(Authors note: I have plans on making this a series. Hope you guys like it 🙃)

[cedricslover]

Troubled pt.3

Pairing: Cedric x Fem! Reader

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 (Final)

Series summary: A very unfortunate situation happened and it resulted in very unfortunate events. You had everything, a good boyfriend that everyone dreamed of, best friends that you got in a twin pack, and a loving school. It was a calm before a storm and in your sixth year the storm came. You faced the consequences your deceased parents run from, you were only left with your only family, your little brother. What would you do in order to save him? The answer is, everything, even if it means joining a terrorist group of wizards, joining THE DEATH EATERS…

Chapter summary: as the Yule Ball came nearer you tried to avoid your problems and just enjoyed the holidays. You were not successful and what you thought would be a lovely evening turned out to be not.

Note: there is no specific house:))) i can make requests if y’all have one. Sorry for the long wait   

Warnings: angst, shouting, yeah pretty much that’s it.

Word count:  3,3k

Hello Molly, 

         I really appreciate how you thought of me having no one to buy me a dress. I really hope I’m not being a hindrance to you. I would prefer any type of dress as long as the sleeves are long up to my wrists. It’s very cold and I have quite an allergy towards the cold and I would really be grateful if it’s a long sleeved dress. Nevertheless, I’ll lead the color to your liking and also the designs. 

       I know you won’t agree but there are a few galleons here just enough for my dress, I don’t want you to waste money on me. That’s all. Take care! Oh and greet Arthur for me too.         

Yours truly, 

Y/N

You sighed as soon as you sealed the envelope. Then, you suddenly glanced at your mirror that was on your table, you’ve never seen your eyes quite this lively since- well since that incident happened. You immediately rejected the negative thoughts that were slowly creeping in your mind. 

‘Stop.’ you told yourself. For the next few days, you wish to never think of your problems first and just enjoy this time. Just this once, again. 

You stared at yourself again at the same mirror, now smiling, you saw yourself, the same self you were last year. She was there, looking back at you and doing your signature wink. 

“Heading to the owlery?” Adrian Pucey suddenly appeared in front of you as you walked the hallway. You rolled your eyes as you replied to him with full sarcasm “Obviously. Now if you please excuse me” you really tried to sound pissed, it's not that you’re not pissed but you’re not pissed enough to sound like it. You just know where this conversation would go. 

“No” He said with full confidence, now you’re seriously pissed. Adrian was a hard headed jerk and you wish to punch his face every time his mouth is opening. “Okay” you rested your face, now showing your bitch face, and without a doubt, punched his stomach and pushed him sideways. You heard him groan before you continued walking and heard the laughs of the students. 

“Way to go Pucey!”

“Told you to stop hitting on her, look at you now”

“Poor Pucey!”

You walked with a smirk plastered in your face. 

“Cedric’s a lucky guy. Too bad” you shivered at the voice of Professor Moody who was just standing beside you. “What was that Professor? I didn’t quite hear what you said after you mentioned how lucky Cedric is” you let out a little laugh as you stopped, intrigued as to what Professor Moody said. “Nothing Y/L/N. Just about that ferret boy” he gave you a little smile before walking away, limping. 

You stared at Professor Moody’s back, you wanted to talk to him, about what is happening to you, he’s an ex-auror, he might help you. But when you were about to follow him you remembered that you weren’t supposed to think about your problems but instead, enjoy yourself. 

You arrived at the owlery, it was really slippery, you heard the owl's hooting while the smooth breeze made you quiver. And as soon as you entered, your pet owl landed on your arm. “The Burrow okay?” you watched your owl as she flew her way to the sky. 

“Hmmm?” you felt warmth wrapping your waist as you stared at the sky, still looking at the direction where your owl went. “You want hot cocoa?” You felt Cedric’s breath in your neck as he rested his face on your shoulder. “Are you a hot cocoa? Because if you are, then yes” you shifted your gaze to him and smiled, looking at those grey eyes, those perfect lashes, and his fairly disheveled hair that almost appeared as golden brown. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s making me blush” he broke your eye contact and stood straight while his face was obviously red, you don’t know if it is because of the cold or he was really blushing. 

“You look cute” you said as you reached for his face and pinched both his rosy cheeks while scrunching your nose. “I know” he smirked and you just playfully rolled your eyes, of course he knows, he’s Cedric Diggory for Godric’s sake. 

“Yeah alright let’s get hot cocoa at Hogsmeade” you started walking and when you were about to reach the stairs you suddenly slipped, luckily an arm wrapped your waist before your body reached the ground. “Be careful next time love, it’s slippery” Cedric’s breath was visible, it was really cold and you’d really appreciate a nice warm kiss. 

Before Cedric can even help you stand up straight you stole a kiss from him and started running, cautiously of course. 

“Hey! Come back here you kiss stealer!” Cedric yelled as you raced down the owlery, your hair bursted in the winter air and your giggles made it even more Christmas-y, if that’s even a word. 

“OW!” you felt sudden coldness on your back, started in your clothes and down your spine, you knew what was that and who did that. “Oh you wanna play this game, git” you slowly gathered snow with your hands and as fast as the snitch you turned and threw it directly to Cedric’s face who was still busy laughing at you. “TAKE THAT!” you started running faster than ever when Cedric wiped the snow off his face, you laughed maniacally as you headed to hogsmeade. “COME BACK HERE!” Cedric shouted again, obviously freezing because you just threw snow directly to his face. 

“Oi! Oi! Y/N!” you heard Fred called you  as you ran past them at the entrance of Zonko’s Joke Shop.

“Later twins!” you waved the back of your hand and sprinted again when you felt Cedric was getting nearer, thankfully you’re not as jacked as your boyfriend, your fitness comes in handy. 

You laughed again as you turned your head and saw Cedric getting tired and panting. You felt bad but still laughed as you went back to him. 

“Sorry” you wrapped your arms to his right arm. He was obviously annoyed or pissed, his lips were pursed. “Ced…” you started slowly pinching his arms while looking at his face, “Ceddie” you said sweetly and saw he was forcing himself not to smile. “Babyyy” you started poking his waist to his tummy and felt his hard abdominal muscles. “Hubby” you wriggled your eyebrows as you saw his face look at you with wide eyes and his cheeks and ears started turning red. “You were waiting for that one aren’t you? You sly badger” you teased him as you two walked the snowy Hogsmeade, his arm over your shoulder, giving you access to his heat while you wrapped your arm to his waist, wishing this moment would never end.

“Oi! Hands off missy!” you shouted across the hallways when you saw a group of students, probably fifth years, crowding over Cedric. At first, you just let it off, Cedric was undeniably popular and this kind of scenario is considered normal, until one girl lays her hand on Cedric’s chest and is about to rest her head too. 

“Thank you love” Cedric smiled at you when you walked to him and the girls immediately avoided you. “You’re so soft despite your muscles” he reached your waist and gave you a kiss, “No I’m not, I just want you to be possessive” he whispered to your ear and slowly licked it that made you immediately look around, alarmed that someone just saw what Cedric did, thankfully no one did. 

“Ced!” you hissed while he chuckled and let go of your waist, “I got to go, see you later, I love you” he said and waved at you before turning his back and started half running, he must be running late. 

You walked again towards your common room when the twins ran in front of you and passed you a box. “Your dress arrived!” they both yelled while running and before you can even ask why they are running you saw Professor McGonagall following them, “Fred and George Weasley come back here this instant!” she shouted that made your eyes go wide and looked at the twins’ back. You shake your head and continue walking the hall while thinking about what the twins had done this time. 

Days have passed by and today was the Yule Ball, you never left your dorm, even if there are a few knocks on your door telling you to go out, it was Christmas, why do you even want to spend your day in your dorm. 

Well maybe you just wanted to have an alone time, it was hard not to think about your current situation, what might happen, you’ll never know. 

You shove all those thoughts into your head and lock it, this is not the time for that. You stood up and observed your dress, beside it was a note from Molly,

Dear Y/N, 

              This is the best one I could get you, I hope you liked it sweetie. Oh how I wish I can see you wearing this dress, this would look very very perfect on you my dear, have fun! 

Love,

Molly

You smiled as you read her note, Molly was there when you needed a mom after yours passed away. The Weasleys made you and your little brother like family, that’s why you’re so thankful to your bestfriends, they are the best. 

After putting on your dress you looked at yourself in the mirror, the long sleeves just hid the dark mark perfectly and since it is fitted you won’t have the trouble of it slipping down, the dress was your house color and was a high neck one, with small flower patterns that are connected and surrounded the neck to the shoulders and navel, the upper part of the dress was fitted and complimented your shape well, while the remaining skirt is flowy and long that it drags as you walk. You felt not a princess, but a queen, high neck dresses are more often seen on queens. You chuckled as you pictured yourself as a queen, with a crown and all.

Walking the hallways felt long enough, like an hour passed by as every time you walked people kept staring at you, it made you anxious and conscious that they see your dark mark that’s why you kept pulling the sleeves as you walk.

But of course, the ignorant, the weak, the obvious, would be caught easily, you kept your straight face as you walked the halls, your head high, covering your anxiety that they might be looking, not just the students, but the death eaters, observing you from afar. 

“I’m looking forward working with you, Y/N” 

The face of Voldemort in the form of a malnourished child sitting on the couch of your old house appeared, beside him was Peter Pettigrew and Nagini. 

“Yes My Lord, I am looking forward to serving you” the image of you appeared with them, bowing down, looking stoic. 

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you my dear” Voldemort’s arm stretched, it was all just skin and bones, then it reached your chin, as you watched yourself, you saw a glimpse of disgust in your face. Voldemort raised your face while Peter smiled widely and Nagini hisses. 

You took a deep breath to remove that memory from months ago, he can never be observing you here at Hogwarts, it’s impossible, his subjects couldn’t possibly enter this castle, this is protected, Hogwarts is one of the safest place, or so they say. 

You stumbled as you bumped into someone, “Professor Moody?” you looked at him and saw his arranged self. You picked his flask that fell and handed it to him. “Are you okay Professor?” his face was sweating and immediately grabbed the flask from your hand and drank it. You immediately smelled the foul stench from the drink as he drank it, “Professor I think your drink is expired” but before he could even answer you, you were called by Hermione. 

“Sorry, I have to go” you forced a smile at him and ran towards Hermione, grabbing your skirt and lifting it so you won't step on it. “Come on, it’s almost time!” she said and grabbed your arm as you two walked fast in the now almost empty hallways. 

“Woah calm down Cinderella” you said and looked at her, her blue dress is perfect. “You look gorgeous by the way” you said and smiled at her as you two were almost on the marble staircase. “Not as gorgeous as you, have you seen yourself?” she said and looked at you, up and down. You felt flattered. 

“Hermione it’s not good to compare. We’re both gorgeous” she smiled at you sweetly, you treated Hermione like a little sister, of course others won’t even realize she needed one, she’s just that know-it-all Gryffindor for them, but for you, she’s just a girl who wanted validation, a girl that thinks academics is the only thing she’s good at. 

“Let’s walk together shall we?” you offered your hand and she took it, you squeezed it, not sure if the assurance is for you or her. 

You two walked the marble staircase, hand in hand, your dress dragging from behind, people straight away looked at the two of you, you only saw one expression from them all, they’re all in awe. 

As you two arrived at the last step Viktor Krum arrived and kissed Hermione’s hand, you smiled at them as Viktor took Hermione away. 

“Wow” you were greeted by Cedric who was now in front of you and was looking at your face. “You always look beautiful” he said and kissed your cheek before offering his arm that you eventually took. 

“How was your day darling?” Cedric asked you while you two were waltzing at the Great Hall. “Doing good, how about you?” you answered as he lifted you up, his forehead creased like he was expecting this question. “Not quite good actually-” you two turned, “my girlfriend, you know, Y/N, she never came out her dorm today,-” you two turned again, “she never even greeted me a Merry Christmas” his face was happy but his jaw said otherwise, his jaw was clenched, “I don’t know what is happening to my girlfriend these past months” he was still doing that fake happy expression, probably not to attract attention, “I feel so left out, I’m her boyfriend yet it feels like she built a door that no one can enter, even me, me who was supposed-” he lifted you, “to be her person, her safe space” he said. You two looked at each other and stopped when almost all of the people were dancing with their partners. 

You surveyed him and knew, Cedric is mad. 

He held your hand and dragged you out of the Great Hall. Now you two are outside, you instantly felt the cold but thanks to your long sleeved dress it was fine for you. 

“What’s going on?” you looked at him, squinting your eyes. “What’s going on?! Isn’t that something I should ask?!” he popped off, the veins on his neck are visible. “I-” you tried to come near him but he backed up. Your face went pale and you tried to fight your tears from falling. “Y/N tell me what is going on?! I can’t understand you anymore, so I tried to ask your brother through a letter even if he’s three years old, because he knows you better than anyone, and do you know what happened?! The letter went back, he’s not there anymore! Y/N! Where’s your brother?!” he held both your shoulders, he was also fighting his tears back, Cedric is a softie, he never wanted to shout unless he is frustrated. 

“Y/N! Tell me!! Where is Theodore?!” the mere mention of your brother’s name acted like an activator for a bomb, tears started streaming down your face. “Where is… he” Cedric’s voice slowly calmed down as he saw you losing it. 

“He is… somewhere safe” you cannot mention it, you don’t want to. Looking down at the snow, the dark mark felt itchy.

“Y/N, where is safe?” his voice was full of suspicion, you raised your head, now composing yourself. There are no expressions left, you’ll just do it. 

“Theo baby!” you called immediately as soon as you entered your house, it seems different now, no mum that would greet you with a kiss and a cookie, no dad that will help you carry your trunk to your room, the only thing that was the same was your little brother running to you with open arms. 

“Big sisteeer” the tiny baby voice rings your ears, you smiled and kneeled expecting his hug. 

“How’s my baby?” you baby talked him and arranged his messy hair. “I was playing” he told you while he was squeezing your cheeks. “Hmm?? Really? With who?” you stood up and placed your trunk at the doorstep. 

“With big guy!” he pointed in front of the both of you and what greeted you was complete terror. “Amycus” you say his name with pure hatred and disgust, you immediately grabbed your wand and pointed it to Amycus Carrow, you know him, how? Simply, he killed your parents. 

“Why are you here?” you backed up, picking up your brother, you wanted to apparate, so bad, but your baby brother can’t possibly handle that. He might splinch. And Amycus knows that, you can’t escape.

“Relax young girl, I just came here to fetch you” he smirked and before you could even throw him an attack spell, you felt dizziness, your eyes slowly closing, you felt weak, “no-” they were taking Theodore away from you. You should've known, the Carrow siblings are like attached in the hip, you should’ve known, Alecto was there. 

“With them” your voice is hard as ever, emotionless in just a snap, you pulled the hem of your sleeve upward and showed your left forearm to Cedric. Your heart shattered in pieces as you saw horror in his face, he probably thought you left your brother at the orphanage, he never thought…

After showing it you immediately return your sleeve into place, “now I think that’s enough explanation on what is going on.” you acted like you shake off the dirt in your shoulder, you’re trying your best to act like everything is just nothing. 

“Of course you wouldn’t want any relationship with a death eater,” you started the conversation again after the long silence, terror overtook Cedric’s face as he looked at you again. He wanted to say something but it seemed like he can’t word it out. 

“Let’s break up” you fought the tears and said it like you’re just announcing something light to him. He looked at you like he can’t believe you’re saying this, but there’s still something in his eyes. 

He agrees. 

He doesn’t want any connection with a death eater. 

“Well, I think that’s settled then” you turned your back to him and took a step forward, you were about to enter the castle again when you were stopped, someone’s holding you back, someone’s holding your wrist. 

You closed your eyes, you can’t hold it much longer. You took a deep breath and turned around but before you could even talk his lips met yours. 

The kiss wasn’t innocent, it wasn’t passionate, but it was love, the kiss is something new, maybe it was both of your tears that you can taste, but it was more, it’s a kiss for a love that can’t happen, a love that will make you regret all your decisions more, a kiss that doesn’t want you to go. A kiss from your person that had no other choice. 

“I love you” He said between your kisses, salty tears filled both of your lips, “so much”. 

It was a kiss after a break up. Merry Christmas indeed.