#I ALSO BEG OF YOU TO IGNORE SPELLING MISTAKES SOME OF THIS WAS DONE UNDER A DESK AND MOST OF IT I DIDNT CARE TO DOUBLE CHECK

[thoughtsandbones]

Ιf eyes could kill

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!MedicDoc OC (codename: Blue) 💀💙

WARNINGS: Mention of alcohol, war, misogyny, sexism, racism, profanity, medical inaccuracies and just getting the POV of our friendly neighbourhood masked menace.

Plot: Doctor Ruhari Hari Kaur (OC is South Asian ☺️) joins the 141 again, but this time as their doctor. After the betrayal of Shepherd and Graves, Task Force 141 begins their hunt on his whereabouts and locating Makarov.

PLEASE reblog and like! Hope folks are enjoying the series, I am building up characters and plots, cos I have a lot ideas and just been enjoying writing :D

Song inspo: Deep - Nine Inch Nails and The Hand That Feeds - Nine Inch Nails

A/N: Flashbacks are getting messed up when I am indenting them and I am getting lots of errors when publishing the work, please bare with some mistakes and spelling issues.

RAMC - Royal Army Medical Corps

I grew up with the OG MW2 game, so there are some references to the old one, so kind of a mix of both the OG and the new timeline... (Also I'm ignoring the OG Shepherd betrayal and keeping in line the one with the new timeline..)

All rights reserved to the rightful owners of Call of Duty Modern Warfare.

spelling and some grammar mistakes as I am bad at times... :/

(FYI: bold sentences... that are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

Please do let me know how you all are finding this fanfic! :D

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6 and PART 7

Part 8

With both arms you push the doors leading out of the OR open letting out a loud sigh, untying your pink flamingo scrub cap and holding onto it, squeezing it within your fist. The surgery was of course a success, a simple appendectomy done in 45 minutes. The take out the pins holding your two french braids up in a bun, letting the braids fall against your back.

Yet you felt on edge. This doesn't normally happen. The irritability bubbling under your skin.

"No need to show off" Dr Jones commented when your were stitching the incision, using your preferred lock-stitch method.

That comment, along with the various other comments before, throughout and at the end of the surgery rattled you.

"Thought you'd be one of the nurses" whilst scrubbing in

"Hm wouldn't have done it that way" Αs you delved into the lower abdomen

"Do Indians chose any other career than medicine or IT?" He said post op.

The rudeness. The sheer audacity. If this was Royal Foxham Hospital, you would've snapped back at him the moment he made the first comment. But no, you didn't have the same reputation as you had back there. Here, you were just a liaison doctor begging to be a part of any surgery again.

General surgery wasn't your area of expertise. Neurosurgery was your arena. Another 4 more years, you'd be a consultant and flying solo.

But that didn't happen. Past trauma caught up to you, and crept back in your life and you dealt with it badly. Bad decisions that nearly lost your career.

Coming back to the 141 and retaining your medical licence was honestly a blessing.

You walk around the building where most of RAMC is based. Trying to calm yourself down. But those comments kept stirring in your head.

"Hey Dr Kaur" a sweet voice called out to you. You turn around and stop your aimless wondering. It was one of the nurses, Clarissa, the pink scrubs making her dark skin more radiant.

"Hey" You say weakly, giving a half-hearted smile leaning back on the wall hands behind your back.

"Look, I want to say sorry about Dr Jones earlier" She says, giving you a sympathetic smile.

"No, don't apologies for him" You say slyly. "Is he always.." you trail off

"Such a pompous ass?" She adds

"Fucking prick is what I would've gone with" You retort. Both of you laugh.

You check your watch, it was nearly 11:30 am and you had to get back to the infirmary.

"It was nice working with you" Clarissa says noting your concerned face as you checked the watch. "Just wanted to make sure you're okay?" she added

"Likewise, you were really good, and I am fine, don't worry" You reply back

Clarissa smiled, turning the around and you watch her walk away, her black braids swinging side to side against her shoulders.

You bang your head lightly against the wall and shake your head. The reminder of Dr Jones brought your irritability to a simmer.

Walking back to Building 2, you run into Gaz who was out on a jog, wearing a shorts and a grey shirt that was seeped in his sweat. He took off his headphones and nodded towards you.

"Morning Doc" he says catching up to you.

You turn to him and smiled slightly.

"Morning Gaz, how are you?" You ask

"Not bad, sweating off the alcohol from last night" He says, panting slightly.

You chuckle briefly, you remember the events of last night.

"No Soap with you?" You ask brightly

"When I swung by his room, he was throwing up in his sink, poor lad didn't make it to the toilet in time" Gaz chuckled

You laughed along with him.

"How was surgery?" Gaz asked you, turning to face you as you both approached Building 2.

"It was... good." You say slowly, pondering at the thought of whether he would want to know the drama or could you be bothered to tell the story and then get further worked up.

Spiralling in your thoughts again you think to yourself.

"Yeah?" Gaz says, looking at you.

"Yes, sorry, brain is fried" You sighed, bringing your hand up scratching your head.

"It's alright" Gaz says turning away from you, smiling.

Both of you head into Building 2, Gaz bids you are farewell as he goes to his room. You head to the infirmary and take the key out of your pocket, unlocking the door and taking off the OUT OF OFFICE sign off that you put up earlier.

Walking in, you take in the organised, clean and silent infirmary. No one is here to judge you. Just you. Strolling over to the desk, place the sign near your laptop, you sit down, leaning back into the chair and placed your feet near the edge of the desk. Tilting your head back, sinking into the silence.

The silence was broken as Captain Price waltzed in with an injured soldier on his back crying "My ankle" and "It's broken"

You quickly sit up and walk over to Price. Doctor mode activated.

"What happened?" You ask abruptly helping the marine over to the med bed with Price. You head over to the sink in the bathroom, wash and dry you hands and then grabbed a pair of gloves as Price struggled to lie the marine 's back down on the bed.

"Michaels here landed badly on his ankle when climbing over the climbing wall" Snapping the gloves on, you flex your fingers and then head to the ankle.

"It's broken" Michaels continues to whine.

Your patience already wearing thin, you gave him a stern look as he wailed at the other end of the bed. Price was trying to calm him down, but nearly snorted with laughter as he saw your face of disgust.

"If it was broken you wouldn't be able to wiggle your foot as much as you are right now" You huffed. Gently pressing the area, examining it. It was swollen.

Need ice, but could also maybe a hairline fracture... You think

Applying slight pressure to one area on the inner ankle Michaels lets out a loud yelp. You look up to Price.

"Going to call RAMC to come over and take you for an X-ray" You say aloud. Price nodded.

Michaels whined even louder.

"Calm down lad" Price shouted, Michaels stopped and looked teary eyed at Price.

Heading over to the phone you call the folks over at RAMC. To be honest you were at a lost all of a sudden. You hadn't dealt with broken feet in years, and you went over the basics in your head:

Blood, no. Visible deformity, no. Bruising of the skin, yes slightly... He was able to move his foot. But you had to be sure. X-ray to be sure.

Once off the phone, you headed over to Michaels, grabbing and crushing an instant ice-pack, then placed it on his ankle, keeping the leg elevated. Going over the basics again.

You felt your heart rate getting high, a slight tremble in your hand.

Pull it together you thought to yourself, burrowing your brows further and shaking your head. Price now seated next to Michaels watching over you.

Fifteen minutes later two medics arrive with a wheelchair to the infirmary, you help Price as he gets Michaels into the wheelchair, the ice pack dropped, and you bend down and grab it, placing it back on his ankle, securing it with a bit of medical tape.

"Thank you" you say to the two medics "Please keep me updated" you add, they nod back at you and Price and walked out.

"Cheers Blue" Price says "That was eventful" he adds chuckling slightly.

"Yeah" you sigh. "Just had to be sure, wasn't sure if it was a hairline fracture..." you mumble

"Your call Blue" Price says affirmingly and giving you a smile

You weakly smile back. Brows were still furrowed.

"Other than that, how was your day Captain?" You ask Price, trying to swiftly break the tension that loomed.

"Good!" He said exhaling deeply, trying to ignore the abysmal conversation he had with Ghost earlier. "Next task is to locate Soap!" He chuckles, shaking his head.

"Yes, Gaz said he was lurking round his sink, feeling the effects of last night" You say, slightly laughing.

"About last night.." Price begins, stepping towards you, eyes now full of concern and caution.

"Don't worry about it Captain, told you sambuca was vile." You say slyly.

"He's a boisterous lad, and it was amusing to see his drunken self"

"Yeah..." You drifted off, not making any eye contact with him.

Price takes in your dejected face. Something, perhaps someone, is bothering you.

"I believe its time for lunch, let's go grab some Blue" He says, gesturing you out the door.

Both of you leave the infirmary, at was 12:30pm, and you had breakfast at 7am.

Of course you're feeling low! Lack of sugar idiot You think, scolding yourself as you lock the infirmary and sticking up the OUT OF OFFICE sign again.

"Let's check on Soap first" Price says looking at you. You nod back following his lead.

Price leads the way as you both walk towards the door of Soap's bedroom. After knocking several times, there was no answer.

"I hope he hasn't choked on his own vomit" Price sighs, then turns to look at you. You raise your eyebrows at him

"Do you have a master key?" You ask

"No, I do not" Price replied sighing again.

Price banged one more time, the door shook.

"Soap, open up" Price said aloud.

Still no answer.

"Perhaps he's in the mess hall getting food?" You suggest

"Perhaps" Price says, looking at you and then back at the door to Soap's room. "Let's go then" Price added

You follow his lead as you both make your way down to the mess hall. It was busy, with it being lunch. You watch and follow Price, he made his way through the mess hall, soldiers making room for him and veering off from their paths that Price was heading down, stopping to nod and say hello to Captain Price, you watch from behind him, he nods his head to soldiers that say hello to him.

Near the end of the mess hall, you spot Gaz and a very hungover Soap, who was holding and nursing his head with his hands, scratching the back of his mohawk with his fingers. Price spots them, as makes his way over, looking over his right shoulder making sure you are still behind him.

Price heads over to Soap, and leans down next to him

"How's the head today?" Price whispers in his left ear, chuckling slightly.

Gaz laughs. Soap lifts his head up and groans.

"Awful" He moans "Didn't realise I would be feeling this bad" He added

Price sits down next to Soap, you go round the table sitting opposite Gaz, Soap and Price.

"Have you drunk enough water today?" You ask

"Aye" Soap says groaning, making eye contact with you.

"Taken any medicine?" You ask

"Aye, took some paracetamol about an hour ago" Soap responded

"Must keep drinking water, your brain is dehydrated" You say to him

Soap nods along, returning his head in his hands. Gaz snickered as he continued to eat his food.

"Blue, you want the lasagna?" Price asked

"Er, yeah, I'll come with" You say getting up

"Don't worry, I've got it for you" Price said smiling and gave you a wink.

"Thank you sir"

You sit back in the chair. Leaning your head back and staring at the ceiling.

Ghost walked into the mess hall. He had already eaten in the private kitchenette the 141 had next to Price's office. It was only ever him or Price that would use it. Gaz and Soap said they preferred the hustle and bustle of the mess hall. But he later found out that Price had banned them after they had once made a mess and damaged Price's expensive coffee machine.

He saw Price in the queue for getting food and went over to him.

"How's Michaels?" He asked

Price turned to look at him.

"He'll live. Blue thinks he may have a hairline fracture so was sent over to RAMC for an X-ray"

Ghost nods

"Seen Soap yet?" Ghost asks

Price chuckles

"Yeah, muppet is nursing a bag hangover" Price says, gesturing with his head to the back of the mess hall.

Ghost turned his head and spotted Gaz, Soap and you. You were shaking your head at Soap as he was running his hands over his head.

"Here, grab a tray for me" Price told Ghost

"Already ate Price" Ghost responded who now was a part of the queue to grab lunch as soldiers queued up behind him.

"For me you muppet. I'm getting Blue her food" Price said rolling his eyes as he passed a tray over to Ghost and grabbed another for himself.

"Why?" Ghost asked

"Something is up with her..." Price says slowly as he continues to stare at the food that was in front of him.

"Do you know what?"

"Maybe it's because you haven't told her who you are yet?" Price says, looking back at Ghost with a smirk.

Ghost was taken aback.

"Did you tell her?" Ghost questioned

"I told you, I'm not going to do it. You need to." Price chuckled.

Ghost looked over at the table where you sat with Gaz and Soap. Your head leaning back, eyes closed. Price was right, even from afar, you seemed on edge.

"Do you think it's what Soap said last night?" Ghost asked

Price moved along as the queue moved, Ghost followed, still holding the tray.

"Not sure." Price answered.

"What can I get you?" The staff member asked behind the food counter.

"Two lasagna's please, one with chips" Price said

Ghost grabbed the plate with the chips and placed it on the tray. He followed Price over to the fridge and took the bottle of water that was handed to him. He then made his way to the table where the other three were.

"Here you go Blue" Price said as he set the tray with the lasagna down in front of you and placing the water upright on the tray.

"Thank you very much sir" You say, giving him a slight smile, but brows still furrowed.

Price sat next to you, and Ghost joined, giving Price his tray. He sat by Soap, he looked at you. You were staring at your lasagna, not happy clearly. Something, or even someone had pissed you off.

"How's the head Johnny?" Ghost asked turning his attention to him.

"Awful Lt." Soap responded.

"You need to drink water, haven't seen you take a sip since I got here" You say, cutting up your lasagna, not making any eye contact.

"Aye, I'll grab some" Soap says, getting up and moving to the water tank behind them and grabbing a cup of water.

You look up and watch Soap drink the water, he refilled it and took another gulp. In the corner of your eye you see Dr Jones storm into the mess hall, your eyes met his, he marched over to you. Soap walked over back to the table and sat back down.

"Great" you muttered. Price looked at you whilst he took a bite of lunch, and then looked in the same direction you were looking at.

"Dr Kaur!" Dr Jones yelled

Gaz, Soap, and Ghost turned their heads to the direction of where that yell came from.

"Do you really think it is appropriate to send off an injured marine with just a sprain to us?" Dr Jones squealed "Not only are your skills in surgery lacking, but also in treating simple ailments" he hissed.

Dr Jones was now right beside you, still wearing the same blue scrubs, similar to yours, as he towered over you.

The blood coursing through you was boiling, you felt like every nerve was sizzling with anger. Taking a deep breathe in through the nose, holding for four... You get up and stand face to face with Dr Jones. Exhaling for four.

Price, Ghost, Soap and Gaz looked on at you. The contempt and hate seeping out of your eyes.

"I do not currently have an X-ray machine in the infirmary." You begin, voice steady, calm, yet with sly undertone of spite. "The patient jumped over and landed poorly from a 8ft climbing wall. The damage of that impact could've been fatal" You added, your eyes piercing into his.

The chatter in the mess hall died down slightly, soldiers began averting their gaze from their food to the confrontation occurring before them.

Price looked on at you, impressed with your calm yet calculated demeanour. A smirk appeared across his face, continued to watch you, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned slightly back to carry one watching.

Dr Jones stared back at you, stunned, you could've sworn his bottom lip quivered slightly.

"Additionally, I am a liaison doctor for the RAMC, my commanding officer is Captain Price, and he also agreed with my decision to send off the patient to you." You continued

Dr Jones mouth was open. Eyes still wide.

"I er.." He started, stumbling over his words

"Yes, it may have just been a sprain, however, there is no harm in double checking. After all, is it not the duty of the Royal Army Medical Corps to assist in any injury that any soldier gets?" You ask

"We- Well yes." Dr Jones stammers, the tips of his ears turning red, he looks around him and sees that all eyes in the mess hall are on him as well as you.

Ghost continued to look at you, your stern face locked in as you dragged Dr Jones. Your eyes still piercing the man whose face was turning red like a tomato.

"Good. Do not ever underestimate my decisions as a doctor unless you have a valid reason to. My skills in surgery are not lacking, just because I have a preferred method of stitching does not make me any less capable than you." You say bluntly. "That is all I have to say on the matter." You add.

You give him one final glare, ensuring he took the message in and sit back down to savour and enjoy the rest of your lunch.

Dr Jones began to retreat until Price spoke

"I believe you owe Dr Kaur an apology Dr Jones" Price said now looking at Dr Jones with a look of disdain.

"My apologies doctor" Dr Jones said through gritted teeth, his face now fully red.

You look back up to Dr Jones and nod back at him and then turn back to your food. Dr Jones walked off, the eyes of the mess hall trailing him as he left the door. The chatter began to increase after witnessing the alteration between the two doctors.

"Steamin' Jesus Doc" Soap says breaking the silence of the table. "That look in your eyes nearly took me out" He added laughing.

You look up briefly at him, smirking and then shrugged your shoulders.

"Honestly thought you would knock 'im out" Price exclaimed

"Not a chance" You scoffed

The anger with in you still stirred, you honestly did feel like punching him. You wanted to beat the living shit out of him. But you couldn't do that. You couldn't fuck up again. Aimlessly prodding at your half-eaten lasagna your appetite was now lost. The grip on the fork was strong, you just wanted to stab something. Or somone.

"It was impressive how you handled him Hari" Gaz said, after he took a sip of his water.

"Aye, do not want to ever piss you off" Soap says chuckling, looking at you and then to Gaz.

You look up, face still stern, eyes narrowed. You run your tongue over your teeth.

"Not only are your skills in surgery lacking, but also in treating simple ailments"

That comment rang through your head the loudest.

"You turned 'im into a blushing bride" Soap said, reaching his left arm over and tapping your on the shoulder. You look up at Soap not smiling.

Soap felt a tinge of embarrassment strike him as you gave him that same look. Before he could say anything you got up.

"I'm heading off to the training room" You say bluntly, eyes still cold. "Page me if you need anything" You add, looking at Price

Price nods at you.

"Shit, what did I do?" Soap asked as he watched you walk away.

Price and Gaz chuckle, Ghost looked at Soap and then towards you as you emptied your tray and left the mess hall.

"Clearly you don't remember last night" Ghost said

"What happened last night?!" Soap exclaimed turning to Price and Gaz.

Gaz and Price filled Soap in with the events of last night. The drunk comments he made. Soap turned red as Gaz kept going on about how he asked if you had a fella back home, and was literally sobbing at the fact you had a female ex lover.

"And you got my jacket wet" Ghost added

"Ah Jesus" Soap exclaimed, burying his flushed head in his hands.

Price's phone rang, he picked up it.

"Hello" He said

"I honestly do not remember that." Soap said "You don't think she thinks I'm like... homophobic...?" Soap whispered to Gaz

"Unlikely mate" Gaz said, patting Soap on the shoulder.

"Right, I'll send Ghost over" Price said and hung up.

Ghost looked over to Price, concern in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Ghost asks.

"Nothing. Blue wants to use the training room, and needs a CO to sign out the guns and needs supervision" Price said

Ghost sighed. Why him? This would make icing her out even harder.

"I'm on lunch, and seeing as though you already ate, you can go and supervise" Price said, as though he could read his mind.

"Yes sir" Ghost said, he got up and left the mess hall.

He made his way out of Building 2 and down the the training ground.

Being in close proximity to you, making it harder to avoid you. 'Specially since you were their doctor. Ghost thought.

Ηe walked in, and saw you standing by the reception area tapping your foot against the hardwood floor. You had changed out of your blue scrubs, and wore black fatigues and baggy black top that was tucked in paired with black combat boots. Your hair still in two french braids.

"Lieutenant" You say nodding your head

"Doc" He said, giving you a slight nod back.

"She wants to use training course, but she's not active duty." The man behind reception said to Ghost.

"Doc is part of the 141, so she's allowed to use the trainin' course" Ghost responded bluntly.

"Has she handled a weapon before?" The man asked Ghost

"She has." You answer

Ghost smirked under his mask as he grabbed a pen on the desk and moved towards the man behind the counter. He turned towards you.

"What course you wanna run?" He asks

"Target course 4. Two USP pistols and a knife, serrated is preferred." You say without hesitation.

Ghost raises a brow, he was slightly impressed.

"You heard her" Ghost said, turning back.

The man handed Ghost a form to sign as he went out back to retrieve the weapons. He looked over at you, you remained stoic, staring at Ghost.

"Goin' to have to supervise you." He said "That alrigh'" He asked

"Of course sir" You say

"Need you to sign here Doc" Ghost said, handing you the pen. You walk over to Ghost and take the pen and scribble your name. Ghost looked down as you signed your name: Dr Hari Kaur

The man came back with your weapons, 6 magazines and a magazine holder.

"These are live ammunitions" He said

"I know" You said "I also need a two gun holster with a belt, along with one for a knife please" You say

The man looks at you bewildered. He then looks at Ghost, who stared right back at him. He returned to the store room.

"You know what to do?" Ghost asks

"Yes sir" You say.

Ghost observed you as you inspected the pistols.

"Still allowed to play music?" You ask Ghost turning to look at him.

"Can do. What you wanna listen to?" Ghost asks

"Du Hast, Rammstein" You say and Ghost nodded.

The man returned with your holsters. Ghost watched as you looped the belt with the magazine holder through the hoops of your trousers and then attached the holsters, placing the guns in them. The knife holster was then attached to the back of the belt, you slid the knife in. Ghost handed you safety goggles and ear plugs. You took them and put them on.

"Ready?"

"Ready sir" You say

"Doc has requested music, I'll come back once I've shown her the course and will be in the box" Ghost said to the man who nodded his head as he signed off the form.

Ghost walked off and you followed behind. He opened the door to the course and stood by the door.

"Targets will pop up as you approach, knife 'em or shoot 'em, your choice, but remember, you are dealin' with live ammo, so be careful" He says "Check your corners" He adds.

"Yes sir" You say, eyeing the course, mapping out possible routes in your head. It has been years, but here's hoping that you still take these targets down.

"I'll start the music and let you know when to go, I'll be watchin' from the box" Ghost said as he points up to the little box overlooking the course. You follow where is finger is pointing.

"Thank you sir" You say returning your gaze to the course.

Ghost made his way up the stairs to the box where another soldier was.

"Lieutenant" He said getting up and saluting.

"At ease" He gruffs.

He walks over the control panel, and takes his phone out, loading up the song you wanted and grabbed the aux cord, connecting it to the phone.

He watches you, you look up at him in the box. He nods his head and you nod back and turned away, grabbing the knife from your holster and closed your eyes, rolling your neck around, inhaling through your nose and out your mouth. You got into your stance, feet planted in the ground firmly.

Ghost presses the mic button, his voice boomed over the Tannoy system. The soldier flinched but you didn't.

"Ready in 3, 2, 1" He said and pressed play. He watched eagerly as you walked quickly into the course.

The loud music boomed over the speakers. The first target popped up on your left, you knifed it with great force.

From the holster you take out the left pistol and clicking it, turning round to the right, two targets pop up.

*BANG* *BANG* You shoot them down. You crouch down, checking the corners and above you. You get up and two targets come towards you, you run towards them, shooting one and knifing the other.

Ghost continued to look down, his arms across his chest, nodding his head slightly to the music, he watched as you took down the targets, checking corners and doing a press check on your pistol.

Good He thought to himself.

You got up, and then jumped over a block, a target came up and you slid across the ground, taking a shot. Returning the knife to the holster, you grab your other gun, clicking it. Three targets come up, one running straight towards you, with both pistols in hand you shoot them down. Finding cover, you check your ammo. Eight rounds in your left and fourteen in your right pistol.

Getting back up, you crouch down walking around the obstacles, three targets pop up, you shoot them down as soon as they appeared.

"She's good" The soldier said in the box with Ghost.

"Hmm" Ghost said, keeping his eyes focused on you. You placed both guns back in the holster, taking your knife out. He watched on as you ran up to a target and knifed it, another target popped up behind you and he saw you take out your left pistol shooting it. Walking forwards, three more targets pop and and you shoot and knife them down.

You were approaching the end of the course, the song stopped, but you carried on. Ghost quickly picked up his phone and played another song by Rammstein, Sonne.

He watched as you shot down more targets, you had returned your knife to its holster and were now reloading the magazine in your left pistol. You approached the last four targets with both pistols drawn, and ran towards them shooting them down, your face scrunched up in anger and determination as you took another two shots at the target that wouldn't go down. You had finished the course.

Ghost stopped the music and pressed the mic button.

"Good practise, I'll meet you there" He says, you look up and nod, unloading the pistols.

Ghost walked down, and you walked towards him. You seemed more relaxed, brows no longer furrowed.

"Feeling better?" He asked

You smirk at him

"Much better" You respond

Both of you walk back over to reception. You hand in the full magazines.

"Grab the cleaning gear for us" Ghost said to the man. He nods and heads into the storeroom again.

"You remember how to clean a gun?" He asked you.

"Somewhat" You reply

"I'll show you, hand me one of your pistols" He said, raising his left hand out towards you.

You double check the gun is empty, opening the chamber, looking down the barrel, and then handed it to Ghost. He was taken aback.

"Well done, most recruits don't even check that" Ghost said.

You smile at him.

"My old sergeant taught me well. He would've probably shot me if I gave a gun to him with a round still in it." You say staring right at Ghost, smirking slightly.

Ghost felt a cold wave go through his body. Your old sergeant... You meant him He thought

Ghost cleared his throat "Good that you remembered"

You smile back him, staring right at him in those blue eyes.

The man brought the cleaning kit out and Ghost took ahold of it.

"Let's go to the garage" He said. You followed him, he held the door open for you and gestured you to walk ahead.

Surely she can't know. He pondered. Price wouldn't have told her, Soap couldn't of. No one else on base knew who he really was.

Both entering the garage, Ghost went over to an empty table. You sat down, looking at him still.

Ghost took a seat opposite you, he began to explain the correct way of cleaning a gun, you follow each of his commands, watching what he was doing, from disassembling the pistol, lubricating the action part and then to reassembling the pistol.

He watched as you followed his instructions.

"He would've probably shot me if I gave a gun to him with a round still in it."

Ghost smirked under his mask at what you said. It was slightly true. He knew he would've said something sarcastic back then to them.

He wondered if you knew it was him sitting right in front of him... He could just do it right now though. Rip his mask off and say "Surprise, it's me again" but he couldn't.

The garage door opened both Ghost and you looked up, Price walked in and headed in their direction.

"How was it?" He asked as he stood near you.

"Good" You say

Price turned to Ghost "What was her time?"

"5 minutes 48 seconds. She did very well." Ghost said looking at you, he watches as you smile, continuing to clean your gun.

"Not bad" Price said nodding his head. "Might have to speak to Laswell and see if we can get you active duty status"

You look up, a glee took over your face

"Really?!" You say smiling wildly

Ghost looked cautiously at Price and then at you. What is he thinking?

"Yeah" Price said

"She's not SAS." Ghost said sharply. You turn to look at Ghost, the smile disappearing.

"Women are now allowed to join aren't they?" You retort looking at Price and then at Ghost

"They are yes" Price said looking wearily at Ghost and then back at you.

"No." Ghost said bluntly. I cannot have you in the field. On missions.

"Why?" You say, eyes now focusing on Ghost.

Ghost looked at you. Eyebrows furrowed again, watching him, awaiting his reason.

"You'd be a liability" He said, the lump was forming in his throat again. Maybe this way was the way to ice you out he thought

You scoff.

"Liability?" You questioned

"Ghost-" Price started

"I am not having her in the field with us." Ghost said standing up facing Price.

"It was a suggestion Ghost, nothing set in stone." Price said, raising his voice slightly.

"She's our doctor, she patches us up, not a part of the team" Ghost said bluntly turning to look at you.

You were astonished. 2 minutes ago, everything was fine. You thought you were getting on well with your lieutenant. Clearly not.

Getting up from the chair, you pack up the cleaning kit

"Blue, listen-" Price began

"I believe it's Dr Kaur. After all I'm only here to patch you all up." You spit, not taking your eyes off Ghost, giving him the same piercing look you gave Dr Jones. Ghost felt a sharpness hit him in the chest. Grabbing the two pistols and cleaning kit you leave the two men behind whilst Price glared at Ghost. The door of the garage slamming shut.

"You really had to ruin it" Price said to Ghost

"I am not having her out there with us." Ghost said through his gritted teeth.

"You need push aside any feelings for her Simon" Price said, using his real name this time edging closer to him.

"I don't have any feelings for her" Ghost lied. Worry and anger coursing through him

"Simon. It was a mere suggestion." Price said.

"It was a bad suggestion" Ghost hissed and walked away from Price and out of the garage.

How the hell could he suggest such a stupid thing? I cannot have her out there with us on these dangerous missions. Ghost thought.

He knew he couldn't lose you. He knew you were a good soldier, but he couldn't have you out there with them. He wanted to keep you away from the horrors. He had to protect you. He couldn't let the same thing that happened in Siberia happen again.

[true-bean]

Weird shit I’ve heard high schoolers say/do

Yesterday was my official last day of high school and since the beginning of my freshman year I have been writing down the weird shit I hear high schoolers say and sometimes do. My friends are all still in high school but I just feel like I should end this in my senior year but they better stop sayin weird shit. Also the list ended up being too got damn long so it’s gonna be a strange post anyway here we go

"My dad spent 7 days in jail and I'm pretty sure he's gay now"

"She took my dress and cut it into a lesbian dress"

"My mom called the police on a hobo that lives in the woods between my house and food city"

"Were you there when he stuck tampons up his nose on the bus?"

"Ah it's crooked!" "Just like my sexuality"

"I told my wrestling team that I'm a lesbian so they won't flirt with me"

"I forgot that pennies aren't see-through"

*stacking books* "we gotta build trumps wall"

*taking down the books* "we gotta destroy trumps wall"

*student runs out and slams door followed by a student entering the class* "someone salty?"

"Its mostly just trump and president Obama and Vice President Biden because I love Biden memes"

"Troye Sivan is my god, he's my gay god"

"She gorgeous, angel birthed!"

Just has a fucking bitcoin fidget spinner spinning on his laptop

"I am a really aggressive note taker"

"You should see how many pens i have" - "name three" - "blue, red, and black" - "fair enough"

"Boy I hope Dylan gets here so I'll have someone to get lit with"

"Just pretend to be a lesbian for a day"

"Nothing like drinking cheese juice"

"My uterus hurts so fucking bad"

*over intercom* "Come watch me break mr. Brinkmans ankles"

*holds up connect 4* "I'm gonna kill somebody"

"I just told you I have a fucking orthodontist appointment"

"It's not my fault that you have a boney ass"

“I hate happy people”

“I don’t want the fish to get high”

“GOTTA SUCK IN THAT FIRE”

“Shut up we lost our streak!”

“How the fuck do left handed people survive?”

“I like growing boys”

“I’m going to sit on one of you”

“Okay boner buddy”

“Hey, straight people are so gay”

“You could say bubbles in German and it sounds like a hate crime”

“It is an allergic relaxation”

“Can we listen to monster while we’re in the ditch?”

*laughing* “I’m getting bullied by gays for being gay”

*from hallway* “Isabelle I need you!” - “you’re gay!”

“Yeah I didn’t reach that and now I feel like a failure”

“No Brittany that’s cannabalism”

“I just walked in there like yeet”

“Dillion you want a black baby?”

“We can watch shrek my twin brother”

“Oh my heck”

“Control your yeet”

*drawing a skull* “the eyes are uneven because that’s how I’m feeling”

“Can I big mood this?”

“Well I’m the aggressive note taker so”

“Quick Kaitlyn before the bell rings, does my hair smell like strawberries?” - “It smells like hair”

“Some mother truckin eggs”

“Jamie you yeeted it, this isn’t the time for yeeting that was a good yeet though”

*talking about laptop* “I like to ignore it until it dies so I can show dominance”

“Arms length bitch!”

“Why do I have popsicle sticks?” - “the real question is why wouldn’t you have popsicle sticks”

“What do you want?” - “death” - “from McDonald’s”

“If I can’t be straight in real life I can’t be straight in disc golf”

Just straight up sticks grass up another persons nose

“How do you feel about the word shit pickle?”

“A chrysalis is like a crunchy salty gusher”

“Let’s yeet our way to the band room”

*looking at hands* “I have turd fingers”

“I understand that you’re angry but put the cap on, be human”

“That grass taste pretty good”

“Beep beep I want death”

“These are pride flags you fucking demon”

“The gender neutral bathroom is the nicest bathroom I have lied on the floor of”

“It’s oof o’clock”

“I straight up yeeted my way down five steps”

“Listen I’m gonna use my tongue as my straw”

Presenting: “Lincoln’s biggest competition in the erection- aw shit-“

“Alex I don’t think I’m gay enough I should do cocaine”

“Oh my ass was just watering”

“You have an eyelash on your glasses” - “it makes me more threatening”

“It’s like slam poetry but it’s scary”

Happily, “Look at them flies die”

“I don’t like fingers”

“I was too savage for the soda”

“I have a breakdown over Owen Wilson’s nose at least once a day”

“You seagull the door”

“Are you claiming my ass”

“Great pace!” - “not really I wanna die”

“MY EYEBROWS ARE GONNA WASH OFF!”

“Anyone who invented running hated children”

“I’m going full on lesbian I don’t like guys anymore”

“It’s just a whole mess of just sadness”

“I’m gonna fuck the moon”

“That Oreo had sand in it” - “yeah no shit. We’re at the beach alex, everything has sand in it, including your ass”

“Polluting? Don’t you mean some dolphin will get sick shades”

“It’s an uwu day”

“That purple hat holds a curse, a moist, moist curse”

“It’s 5:04 you dingus”

“His hair looks like a lollipop dropped on the carpet”

“Are you uwu or are you uwoke?”

“I’ll give you hamlet for one cocaine”

“I’ll burn you with this corndog”

“I lowkey hate my life”

“And they tried to yeet him out of existence”

“I shouldn’t have heyawd”

“Alex. Why are you a failure?”

Just sticking pencils in his hair

“I’m starving I’m gonna eat my left arm”

“I wanna die myself”

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

So a scenario (please please please feel free to ignore it if it's not your liking, no pressure on you, I really really appreciate your hardwork and I love your writing thank you so much for all of this amazing fanfics you keep bringing) where f! Mc urges Lucifer to take break from his relentless overworking but Luci refuses and says something harsh which he didn't mean, Mc get's extreamly upset and leaves the house to get fresh air but she got kidnapped which Luci didn't realise till 2-3 days because he put spells on his office door to keep away his brothers and MC's whinning but when he comes out he sees whole house on rampage Because mc was missing and they can't sense anything with pact Because it was fading and Everyone is extremely angry at Luci, Luci realises his mistake and finds his Mc almost half dead where before falling into coma Mc makes Luci realise how much they (his brothers & Mc) all need him to be physically with all of them and Mc ends up in Coma, end it with fluff (wake mc up) please I beg you 😖 I know you love angst but I don't think I can take more angst I cried whole night yesterday after reading your "A question of time", love you and please take care of yourself ~ 💜

House of Stone (Lucifer x GN!MC)

There you were, skipping into his office as you always did, the softest smile gracing your lips as you reached his desk, leaning over it to look at him, but he didn’t look at you. There was no time to play your games, there was no time for anything, not when Lord Diavolo had his desk constantly stacked with paperwork that needed to be completed. He didn’t mind doing it, not before you came along, but now there was the constant pressure of keeping you occupied and satisfied while also trying to complete the never ending work pile. His pride never allowed him to put you at the top of his list of priorities because as much as he cares about you, he needed his Lord's respect, and he owed it to him as well. “Lucifer, you should take a break. You’re working too much, and way too hard. We’re all worried about you.” Your voice broke through his thoughts and his head whipped up to look at you finally. His eyes narrowed, and he found it almost laughable that you’d try to have a say in how much or how little he worked. He scoffed at you, flicking his wrist to shoo you out of his office. “I don’t need your opinion, or your worry, Y/N. If you’d stay out of my office and let me concentrate, maybe I could actually get something done. You think you can do that?” 

For once you didn’t put up an argument, you actually backed away from his desk and left his office quietly. He knew that what he had said was out of line, but as always, his pride kept him from going after you to apologize, well, it kept him from apologizing at all. You meant well, but he also had to finish his work, and it’s not like what he said wasn’t entirely true. If everyone would just leave him be for a little longer he could finish what he had to get done and maybe he could actually get some rest, which is what everyone was apparently worried about. The door was quickly put under a spell, no one would come in and no one would get out, and by no one, it meant him. He wouldn’t allow himself to leave until every single sheet of paper on his desk was read and signed off, no matter how time consuming or exhausting it was, he would get it done. Along with what was basically a locking spell, he also soundproofed the room, the only noises he could hear was his own breathing and the sound of pen against paper as he scribbled his name at the bottom of each paper. What he hadn’t heard was the sound of the front door slamming shut and all his brothers begging and pleading for you not to leave, and then the sound of their fists pounding against the door to his office as they tried to tell him that you had left. 

How much time had passed since he had snapped at you, since that spell had been placed on the door? He’s not sure, and if it wasn’t for the coffee pot that he had set up in his office, he would have figured out sooner, but the fact that he was able to survive somehow on solely coffee and stale bread while he was working made it quite easy to lose track of the days and how many had passed by. The work on his desk was finally done though, and he could finally leave his office, and he was hoping that the home that he had left to the care of you and his brothers was still standing outside of his office. Long legs and arms stretched out in front of him as he finally pushed his chair away from the desk, gathering up all the papers and preparing them to be taken to Lord Diavolo. “Then I’ll see how Y/N is doing…” He told himself, because deep down, he knew that he had been too harsh. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you or his brothers to worry about him, it felt nice to have people actually care about him for once. His brothers usually cared about themselves, well, most of them did, and you, well… you always cared about him, although he didn’t know why. 

As he took the spell off the door, that’s when he first heard it. The commotion of his brothers outside of his office, although they weren’t right outside the door, they were speaking loud enough for him to tell they weren’t all in their own separate rooms, which was strange. His first thought was that someone had unintentionally burned the kitchen down, or maybe they had made a hole in the wall while fake wrestling, and he was entirely prepared to brush it off until he got an adequate amount of sleep, but then he opened the door and saw all of his brothers rushing around the halls, their phones in their hands as they fervently typed out messages, others had their phones up to their ears, growling loudly when they clearly didn’t get an answer. “What is going on?” Every head in the room turned to look at him, all of their eyes were shooting daggers in his directions, and for once, he was the one who didn’t have a clue of what was happening or why everyone seemed so irritated. 

“Y/N is gone!” “I don’t know what happened!” “-Just walked out the door, looked like they were crying!” “-Not answering their phone!” “I don’t feel it anymore…” “-Like the connection is fading.” All of his brothers were speaking over each other, but all of their words were directed at him. You had walked out, you had left the house, and he felt this strange sense, a pang of guilt mixed with worry. He was worried about you, as were all of his brothers as well. It looked like none of them had gotten a wink of sleep, not even Belphegor who looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open just to glare at him. “Will you all be quiet!? Mammon… tell me what’s going on!” All of the tiredness he had felt before had quickly vanished as soon as he heard that you weren’t there, and now the only thing that he wanted to do was make sure you were okay, to get you back home safe. Mammon would know what was going on better than any of his brothers because other than himself, Mammon was the one who kept a close eye on you, he was the one who made sure you stayed out of trouble. 

“After leavin’ yer office… Y/N just walked straight out the door. We tried callin’ for them, but they weren’t listenin’. We tried callin their phone too, and textin’, but they ain’t pickin’ up. Now… we can’t feel ‘em anymore… like the pact is fadin’ or something.” It was like everybody in the room froze, because that “or something” wasn’t good, the pact fading wasn’t good. Although he himself hadn’t made a pact with you, he knew that his brothers weren’t lying, because he didn’t need a pact with you to feel a connection, and now that he was out of his spellbound office, he could feel that something was fading, he just didn’t know for sure what it was until his brothers verified it for him.

How long had he actually been locked up in his office? How had he allowed something like this to happen? He knew this was his fault entirely. If he would have just gotten up, satisfied you just enough to make you feel better, pretend that he was getting some sleep… anything but scolding you for caring… this wouldn’t be happening. But then again, his pride won’t ever allow him to admit that he was in the wrong. This was somehow his brother's faults for not stopping you, for not going after you. Why hadn’t they tried to stop you, why didn’t they follow you? They knew well enough that it wasn’t safe for you outside of the house, that you shouldn’t be roaming around the streets of the Devildom by yourself, but they let you go. Maybe this was more of his brother's faults than he thought, but he didn’t have time to argue with them. 

“We have to find them. Mammon, Asmo, and Levi, you take the upper side of town, Beel, Belphie and Satan, you take the lower side, I’ll stay in the middle and look around. If any of you find them, you call me immediately and tell me exactly where you are. Now go.” He’s hoping that you hadn’t gone far, that nothing terribly bad has happened to you, although their words of the connection with you fading has him beyond worried, and he’s almost terrified of what he or his brothers will find if they do find you. There’s only one reason why pacts would fade, and that’s a reason that he doesn’t want to dwell on too long. If he starts believing that you’re dead already, he’ll give up, his brothers will give up, and that’s something they can’t risk. As long as there’s some type of feeling… no matter how faint, it means that you’re still alive. You’re somewhere, and they’ll find you, and hopefully it won’t be too late. 

The groups dispersed and Lucifer went out on his own, searching everywhere and anywhere for you. Places he never would have stepped foot in, he was right there. He was on edge, and every second that passed just set him further into a panic. “Where…?” Where could you possibly be? None of the brothers had texted him, so they clearly hadn’t found you either, and he was starting to feel hopeless, like he would never find you, and if he or they ever did, you surely wouldn’t be breathing. His brain was fogged with worry, and he couldn’t even begin to think of where you could have ended up, or what could have happened to you. At this point, he was walking through the streets in a daze, he wasn’t even watching where he was going, and that’s when he ended up in a back alley that was almost too dark to navigate. It led to a dead end though, and just as he was about to turn around and walk back out onto the street something caught his eye. A single shoe sticking out from behind a pile of rubbish, and he felt the bile rise in his throat as his blood began to boil. He knew without a doubt that it was you, he knew those shoes, and he knew they were yours, and he immediately ran over, pulling your body up off the ground. “Y/N…” 

He could barely hold himself up on his own two feet anymore, just the sight of you like that had made him weak, and he was seeing red. If he hadn’t known any better, upon first look he would have thought that you were dead, but your heart was still beating, although feably. “Just… hold on a little longer… Okay?” Did you even hear him? Your entire body was limp, and even though he knew there was still some life in you, it was fading fast, and you already appeared lifeless, and you weren’t responding to him at all. He had hoped for the best, but no amount of preparing could have gotten him ready for this. 

There was no time to rush to the castle, and until he knew just who exactly had done this to you, he didn’t trust anyone in the Devildom except Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, and his brothers. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he zapped you and himself to the castle, standing in the entryway, and he didn’t even know what to do, and he couldn’t find his voice to call out for the butler, so he was more than grateful when the demon walked around the corner and kind of froze when he saw him standing there with you. 

He wasn’t the type that asked for help, but in this instance, there was nothing else he could do, and even though he couldn’t voice the word, he was pleading to Barbatos with his eyes to do something, anything to fix you, to make you better. “Right.” Was all the butler said as he rushed over to grab you from his arms, but he wouldn’t allow it. Wherever Barbatos planned on taking you, he would go to. All he needed was for the butler to lead the way, and he would follow. The last thing he wanted was to be away from you again. 

Hours, days, weeks passed by, and he never left your bedside. You had been laid up in one of the guest bedrooms of the castle, it had been turned into a makeshift hospital room, the slow, steady beeping of the heart monitor had been the only sign to him and his brothers that you were still alive. Other than that, you were lifeless, a shell of the person that you used to be. “Lucifer, it’s alright if you go back home. Y/N will be fine here, and you’re just making this harder on yourself sitting there and staring at them.” Diavolo’s voice sounded from the doorway of the room, and for once, Lucifer disagreed with him. He deserved all the pain that came along with seeing you like this because it was his fault that you ended up like this in the first place. 

“I’m staying here until they wake up. It’s the least I can do.” You were always there for him and he had shooed you away, he had pushed you away, and this is how you ended up because of that. He’ll sit by your bed for another week, for another month, he doesn’t care how long it takes, because when you do wake up he wants to be the one you see first. “Lucifer, I understand… but your brothers need you back at the house. They’re just as upset about this as you are.” As if he didn’t already know that. They weren’t just upset about what happened to you, they were upset with him, as they should be, because he was the reason behind it. That wasn’t the thing that was keeping him from going back though, it was you. You were keeping him from leaving, because he refuses to go back to the house when you’re not there, because as much as his brothers and you need him, he needs you and his brothers just as much. 

“Lucifer…” He had fallen asleep, and it happened so scarcely that once his eyes shut, he found it difficult to open them again even if he did feel fully rested… but that voice… it wasn’t Diavolo’s, it wasn’t his brothers, it was weak… soft, almost a whisper. It was you. He sat up straight, his eyes shooting open to look at you, and a sigh of relief escaped him when he realized that it wasn’t just a dream, that he hadn’t heard your voice calling his name in his head. You were awake, and you were saying his name, and Father, it sounded so sweet. “Y/N… I’m…” How does he say he’s sorry? Would you even accept it if he did? Why would you? Why should you? He didn’t expect you to, but he still felt the need to say it. To push his pride aside for once and actually own up to his mistake, because this was the biggest mistake he had ever made. 

“I know you’re sorry…” You had said it for him, before him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed you to hear it from his own voice, because this past month as he sat beside your bed wondering if you’d ever wake up again, he realized that he doesn’t just need you, and he doesn’t just care about you. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean what I said… and I hope that you can forgive me.” Because he loves you, and he never wants to go through the fear of losing you again. He needs you more than you’ll ever need him, and although his pride would never allow him to say it out loud, it’s the truth, and he doesn’t know what he’d do without you. 

[pigeonp0st]

could u do nat taking care of r when r gets sick (pretty please i beg of u)? preferably lots of cuddles 🥺🥺

idk i just love soft!nat 🥺

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #5

Words: 1,689

Warnings: none?

Notes:

I didn’t really like how this one turned out but i’ve finally decided that staring at it in my drafts with disappointed isn’t gonna make it any better...so here it is. Thank you for requesting, and sorry for spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

———

It started with a cold. Just a couple of sneezes, a runny nose, and a sore throat...the usual.

It started out with you trying your best to hide it. Hide the sickness. That plan went under the moment Natasha heard you sneeze during training... she had you confessing to your sins much too quickly.

Suffice to say she immediately kicked you out of the training area with demands to take some medicine.

So she was the first to realize that you were sick, and she was the first to realize you were getting worse instead of better. She’d pester you endlessly when you wouldn’t want to talk about it, and watch over you like a hawk.

It was sweet, but you also didn’t think it was necessary. You were sure you’d be fine in three or so days.

How wrong you were.

When you wake up with a 103° fever for the third day in a row it has you layed in bed for the whole day groaning about the inequalities of the world, and begging Natasha not to get a doctor for the 100th time.

You were fine. Totally fine.

Natasha watches you with a mix of amusement and concern from the corner of the room and suggests, gently, that maybe you’re not.

You peak over your covers to glare at her in something like betrayal. “I’d be fine if you’d stop pacing and come cuddle with me.”

She seems to think about her options for a long moment and right when you think she’s going to reject you she relents with a heavy sigh and gets into the bed.

She’s so blissfully cold it has you snuggling into her side immediately, both to warm her up and use her as your own personal ice pack.

“You’re burning up,” Natasha whispers, but she pulls you closer to her—like somehow if she’s close enough she can absorb some of your pain and make you feel just that little bit better. “If your fever rises even a little bit we’re going to the doctors, okay?”

She’s concerned and worried, and even though a stranger fussing over you is the last thing you want you know you have to give her this.

As soon as you nod your head in agreement some of the tension seeps out of her body, much to your relief. As ridiculous as it is, you’re worried about her worried about you—if that makes sense.

“Around 100,000 people died from the flu in 2019,” Natasha mumbles against your forehead. She adds quietly after a moment, “just in case you were wondering.”

You were not wondering. What the fuck.

“Nat...that statistic is mostly old people.”

“Yeah,” Nat agrees, “you’ll be fine.”

And despite your body's protest, and how much of a pain it is to pull away, you do, just so you can give Natasha an incredulous look so she knows just what you think about what she’s doing right now.

Her face is unexpectedly vulnerable when you see it. She isn’t trying to bother you...she’s just…she’s worrying herself crazy.

“Nat,” you sigh, ready to embark on the most comforting and articulate speech you can think of, but a sudden fit of coughs has you turning away hurriedly to muffle your face in a pillow.

When your lungs finally decide to stay in your body for now, and Natasha stops rubbing your back, you’re too tired to try and comfort her, so instead you mumble, on the verge of sleep, “if I die; just know I love you.”

Which, in hindsight, probably doesn’t help much.

But she doesn’t sound worried when she replies, just exasperated and fond. “I love you, too.”

———-

When you wake up again it’s to a bunch of kisses and beautiful red hair.

“Stop attacking me,” you grumble, trying to push her away, but you're not able to hide your smile. God, you love your badass (soft) girlfriend.

“Look who's not dead!”

Remembering your last words to her before you went to sleep has you finally opening your eyes and giving Nat a sheepish smile. Oops. “Look who really wants to get sick…”

“My immune system is stronger than yours,” Natasha scoffs, shoving both your medicine at you and a bottle of water.

“Asshole,” you mumble, moving to open the medicine bottle only to get stopped by a hand on your wrist. “What?”

“You need to eat first.”

Thus, starts the trip towards death.

————

“Oh my god, how much farther is it…”

Your fever is finally down and back to safer levels so naturally Natasha has insisted that you’re able to go to the kitchens yourself and sit outside to eat.

You need fresh air, she said.

The room is getting stuffy, she said.

It’ll be good for you, she said.

What a fucking devil.

“You’re literally the most dramatic person to ever grace this earth,” Natasha tells you for only the millionth time since the journey began. “Maybe if you stopped sliding against the wall and crawling on the floor like you got shot three times we’d get there faster.”

“Maybe if you’d help me—”

“I tried! But apparently i’m ruining your image.” She rolls her eyes when she says that, then turns away to grin like she thinks you won’t notice.

You’re a whipped idiot who's decided to make a complete full of yourself and waste what little energy you have just to get your girlfriend to laugh, and to prove to her that you’re doing better.

You’re definitely going to regret this later, but now, in the moment; This is totally worth it. No doubt.

————

Wanda is in the kitchen.

As soon as you see her you straighten up and stop leaning on the wall (and limping). Natasha laughs next to you when she notices.

“You’re doing better, Y/N?” Wanda asks, glancing over you before returning back to the soup she’s making. For you. She’s making soup for you.

You adore her. She’s your favorite person, she’s—

“Not your girlfriend,” Wanda interjects, amused, “and doing this as a concerned teammate, and because your girlfriend asked.”

“Yes, well I love you anyways. Your cooking has gotten very good,” you say, shooting her a grin while you practically bounce to the dining chair, in stark contrast to the way you were dragging yourself down the halls.

Natasha does a good job at trying to not look confused, but she clearly is. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Wanda informs her before you get the chance to.

“Favorite person for making you soup?” Natasha asks once Wanda’s done relaying your thoughts. She narrows her eyes at you then. “Not the person who has been taking care of you since you became an avenger, not the person who—”

“It’s very good soup, Nat.”

“Very,” Steve agrees from the living room.

Natasha sighs, takes a sniff of the soup, and resigns herself to the facts she’s faced with. “Yeah...it is.”

——-

“Close your mouth,” Natasha orders, tapping your chin. You listen, waiting patiently for the beep of the thermometer to signal it’s done.

When it does, Natasha pulls it back to study it. There’s a small lapse of anxious silence before Natasha reveals the results. Then...“Ninety-Nine. You’re officially a healthy woman.”

And with that, you’re finally free of the bed rest and able to walk the halls as a newly restored human being.

“I’m free,” you shout, tackling Natasha onto the bed and kissing her all over her face, completely overjoyed. “Natasha, I survived!”

You survived. It only took an exhausting week. When your fever went down a couple of days ago it spiked to 105° a bit after and you were sure you were going to suffocate in Natasha’s worry because of it. You had to go to the medical room...it was awful.

But now Nat laughs, and laughs, and then pulls you into a tight hug to stop all of the kissing. She seems to be unburdened and lighter now that she finally has the numbers she’s wanted.

“Loving you as much as I do is really just living in this constant state of worry and fear,” Natasha says when you’ve both settled down. “I do not like things being out of my control,” she admits, kissing the crown of your head. “Especially when it involves my heart.”

“Your heart,” you repeat, curious. “Is that what I am?”

“Ignoring the worry and fear part?” Natasha teases, quirking an eyebrow.

“We both know those feelings are accompanied with a multitude of good and beautiful emotions. I feel them too.”

Natasha smiles then, soft and gentle, and full of admiration. “Yes.”

You tilt your head. “Yes...what?”

“Yes, you are my heart. Or at least you feel like you are.”

At that, with a determination and seriousness that visibly shocks Natasha you say, “i’ll protect it. I’ll protect myself, and because you're mine also, I'll help protect you. Always.”

“Always,” Natasha agrees, her fingertips trailing across your cheek. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, embarrassed suddenly, “of course.”

————

“Are...are you serious?”

Natasha scowls into her tea and says nothing in response. This is fucking hilarious.

Your lovely girlfriend doesn’t seem to think so because the second she sees your face struggling not to laugh she begins glaring at you. “Don’t,” Nat warns. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“I seem to recall you saying, and I quote, ‘my immune system is stronger than yours.’” You grin. “Oh how ironic this is.”

“I’m not sick—”

“Aw, but baby, the amount of tissues on the floor seem to be saying otherwise,” you gesture towards the growing pile, feeling absolutely no sympathy until Natasha glances at the pile with a sigh of defeat. She looks so small and sad covered in her pile of blankets...it simply won’t do. “Don’t fret, my love. I will take care of you, just as you took care of me,” you assure her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“First things first,” you tilt her chin up, “i’ll get Wanda to make you some soup so you can take some medicine.”

“I hate the world,” Natasha grumbles, mumbling some curses in russian.

“I love you, too.”

[seriouslysnape]

Shattered

__

Draco Malfoy x Astoria Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of cheating.

Request: Hi, I was one of the many who requested a one shot.So I wrote that I'd like for you to write an angsty one shot with Draco, Astoria and reader. I heard this sound: So she gets the flowers right? And I got excuses, I got used and shattered." And it stuck with me still 🙈 You can make the end happy or sad. However you like.Thank you 😍💚 @perfect-storm95​

A/N: Well, well, well. This has made me hate Draco for the remainder of the day. Also, I’m gonna throw a little twist into this.

Word Count: 3,714

“All you have to do is say yes.”

__

It took a respectable amount of control to ignore the lurch in your stomach when he put his arm around her shoulder. It took even more restraint to avoid the heat in your throat when he laughed at something that she had spoken. And it took absolutely everything in you to ignore the way your heart ached when he kissed her the way he had once kissed you.

It had been a wild evening for sure, to say the very least. What was supposed to be a lighthearted night full of making fond memories and even more fun, you quickly discovered that you’d be having to face a part of your past that you had yet to come to terms with.

It had been almost three years since the last time you had seen Draco Malfoy. It had been three years since the last straw had been drawn and you left his home in hurt tears. Three years since you had walked out of his life, making a silent vow to never see him again, even if it meant going out of your way to do so.

You never thought you’d reunite quite like this.

Luna Lovegood had always been a dear friend of yours, despite the fact that she was a year younger than you. Her kindness and eccentric nature had appealed to you in the best of ways. The bubbly Ravenclaw girl had blossomed into a wonderful woman, and it overjoyed you to see her beginning this new chapter.

Her wedding was exactly how you had imagined it. It was far from traditional, but it was stunning nonetheless. Luna was a radiant bride, and you were beyond happy for her. Your good mood, however, tanked when you saw the blonde headed man at the reception afterwards. Even though it had been a few years, Draco still looked as he did the night you left him. 

It was a real punch in the gut to see him there, and you were almost convinced  that someone had spiked your drink. You were sure that you were dreaming, or that he was just a weird figment of your imagination. 

He was still tall and lean, and you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to follow the chiseled line of his jaw. He was wearing his nicest, favorite suit that still fit his frame perfectly. His voice was still serious and assertive, and his tone was still as it had always been. Make no mistake, it was still the same Draco Malfoy.

To make matters worse, it hurt like hell to see his arm wrapped around the very woman that caused your breakup. 

You wouldn’t deny that there was bad blood between yourself and Draco. Things had ended on a rotten note and things were never discussed, so it was only natural that there was unspoken tension.

Now, you were sulking at the table just behind theirs, not even interested in the engaging conversation happening around you between friends of yours that you hadn’t seen in quite some time. You just couldn’t seem to look away. It was like if you looked away and then looked back, he wouldn’t be there anymore. However, your silly belief was dismantled when his gaze suddenly caught yours. Yep, he was definitely real and sitting right in front of you.

Because you knew those piercing gray eyes anywhere.

You half expected him to pay you no mind and look away as if he hadn’t seen you at all, maybe even ignore your presence completely. But no, his glance locked with yours for a solid few seconds. Minds racing, hands shaking, hearts beating.

You were actually the first to look away, attempting to shift your attention as if you hadn’t just seen the only man you ever loved after so much time had passed. Even if you had been listening to what was being said around you, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to hear a thing due to the thump of your heart in your ears. 

A deep blush had tinted Draco’s pale cheeks, and he had yet to look away. Your mind trailed to the woman who was obviously his date, and it was someone you REALLY had hoped you’d never see again. 

Astoria Greengrass was a beautiful woman. She was someone that you couldn’t help but compare yourself to. All the way from her voluminous hair to her impeccably pedicured toes. You had always thought of her to be the model of a picture perfect woman. But you never once thought that she was supposed to be competition for you.

It was a moment that would be permanently burned into your brain. No matter how hard you tried to forget (even going as far to use a spell on yourself) it still made its way back to you. It was a sickening sight, walking into your shared home with your boyfriend of 6 years to find him in bed with someone that had been under your nose the entire time. 

It was a massive blow to your pride, trust, and your heart. Draco had pleaded with and begged you to forgive him and to let it go. In between your screams and cries, he promised that things could work out and that things could be the way they were before.

You had magic for a reason, and he could easily obliviate all three of you and no one would ever know. But he knew how dishonest that would be. And you hated dishonesty.

Astoria had ducked out of the house just when your fight was getting started, which was good for her because you were sure you would’ve done something you might regret later. You and Draco had fought for hours. So long that your throats had gone raw from all the yelling and your eyes were almost puffed shut from all the tears. You had told him it was over in a burst of anger and hurt, and left him alone in your bedroom almost falling to pieces.

And that was the last time you had seen Draco Malfoy.

His presence hadn’t totally disappeared from your life. His name popped up in conversations from time to time, and you’d often stumble upon pictures of the two of you during happier times. But what you had not realized until seeing him again was that he had not once left the safety of your heart.

You were still in love with Draco Malfoy.

Your experience at Luna’s wedding had taken a full turn, and now you found yourself incredibly uncomfortable. You shouldn’t have been so surprised that he was there. Luna and Rolf had invited just about anyone they had ever been in contact with. Still, it was throwing you for a loop that Draco was sitting right in front of you.

It was the beautiful, gentle music that began to play overhead that finally snapped you out of your daze. Along with Luna and her newly wed husband, a few couples had broken away from their designated tables to slow dance on the dance floor of the reception. It didn’t take long for the floor to be crowded with people.

As hard as you tried, you couldn’t fight the urge to let your eyes flicker back to Draco. It was almost like an instinct. It was a natural behavioral thing that was still as sharp as ever. 

He wasn’t looking at you anymore, but his eyes were fixed on Astoria, who he had guided up from her seat and taken by the hand. A hot boiling sensation was building up in your gut at the sight of him leading her to the floor as well, holding her close and swaying with her to the comfort of the music. It wasn’t long before you were out on the floor as well, being spun around carefully by Blaise Zabini, whom you had been friends with throughout your years at Hogwarts. But your attention was far from Blaise.

Jealousy ran rampant through your core as you watched the way Draco’s hand rested on the small of Astoria’s back, his fingertips dancing across her. He looked down slightly into her dazzling eyes, a smile appearing on his face that was nothing short of lovestruck.

He had once danced with you like that. He had once held you like that. He had once looked at you like that. Granted, the situation usually involved the two of you alone in your living room under nothing but candlelight and music from one of your favorite shared records. But those were the moments that had always stuck with you.

The times where nothing else mattered but being together. The moments where the two of you felt like the only people in the world. When loving each other unconditionally was the only thing you ever wanted to do. Perhaps that was the hardest part of it all. The fact that you never knew where things went wrong. Your perfect relationship had crashed and burned unexpectedly with little explanations to why Draco decided that suddenly you weren’t enough. 

Draco caught you staring for the second time, his focus visibly moving from the woman that was currently in his arms. He had this look of uncertainty in his expression, but as if he had already made his mind up. Before you could process anything that was happening, Draco broke away from Astoria, and he was standing next to you and Blaise.

“Mind if I take [Y/N] from you, Blaise?” Draco smiled radiantly at his old friend.

Your stomach hit your shoes seemingly. Blaise smirked, still as coy as always. 

“Only if I can have a dance with your lady.” He grinned.

Draco chuckled lowly, allowing Blaise to take Astoria for a while. Despite everyone maneuvering around you, you felt like you were standing alone with Draco. You could only look at him, words failing to form. His hand trembled faintly as he held it out to you.

“Care to dance?” He offered.

Your head was screaming no, but your heart was screaming yes. You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not, considering you weren’t sure what this was all about. But as always, your heart’s desires won out.

“Sure.” You replied meekly. 

A million fireworks exploded through you when his hand touched yours, pulling you in to him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, his hands resting on your back the way they had with Astoria. He stroked your skin through the material of your dress, as lovingly as he had all the times before. 

You were equal parts frustrated and desperate. Frustrated with yourself for still longing for him and missing him after all this time. Desperate for things to be the way they were before.

“You look wonderful.” He spoke quietly, careful not to disturb the peace of the atmosphere.

Oh, his voice. It was still deep and husky, but full of thought. It sent shivers down your spine that you hoped he couldn’t feel with his hand resting there.

“So do you.” You responded, wishing your heart would slow just long enough to get a hold of yourself.

He continued to hold you flush to him, taking in the scent of that same perfume you always wore. It flooded him with memories and remembrance. 

Truth be told, you knew all along that you couldn’t get away with never seeing Draco again. Even if you hadn’t been together for quite some time, your circle was just too close to successfully dodge him forever. But this was not at all how you thought it would go.

If you were being completely honest, you thought you’d casually run into him in Diagon Alley or somewhere that you went often. You always imagined that you’d spot him from across the room and be filled with such a rage that you’d be too angry to speak to him or would explode into a huge fight scene. You’d storm out without ever trying to make real contact with him, and you’d try your hardest to go back to living as normally as possible. This was far from what you had ever dreamed of. 

And you weren’t as angry as you always thought you’d be. Admittedly, there was still a pit of fury from the fact of his infidelity. But there was another feeling that seemed to wash that pit out completely. You weren’t angry at all really. 

You were sad.

“How have you been?” He asked, stepping in sync with you to the music.

“Staying busy with work. How about you?”

You were a little shocked when he didn’t burst into rambles about everything you had missed out on in the last few years. Instead, he only shrugged as if he wasn’t too impressed with himself.

“I’ve been good. Mother and Father still ask about you.” He answered.

A quick glimmer of joy beamed on your face. Draco’s heart leapt with thrill.

“Do they? Oh, how are they, Dray?” You asked with eagerness to hear about his parents well-being, not even realizing the use of his nickname.

His heart swelled.

“They’re the same as always.” He replied.

You nodded briefly, changing the subject.

“That’s good,” You prompted, only continuing once nothing else was said; “It’s been a while.”

“It has. I’m happy you’re doing well.” Draco answered.

You had been trying to ignore it, but the cold metal of his ring was prevalent through your dress, and it told you everything you needed to know. 

“So, you’re married now, huh?” You wondered aloud.

The blush returned to his cheeks, and he sucked in a breath.

“Yeah. Almost a year now,” He confirmed; “You?” 

A flush of embarrassment and dread flooded your body. You didn’t want to have to tell him that you hadn’t moved on when he clearly had. It wasn’t that you hadn’t tried to meet and find someone new. A few boyfriends had come and gone since Draco, and while they were all great, none of them had captured your heart. Even if it had felt like it at times, the world didn’t stop spinning the night you left Draco Malfoy, so you knew there was someone else out there.

You just wished they’d come sooner rather than later.

“No, not yet. I suppose that I haven’t found the one yet.” You said in a way that was unintentionally hurtful, but still left a sting in both yours and Draco’s chest.

It felt like a lie to say that. You had convinced yourself that Draco was “the one” long ago. From time to time, you still thought that. Draco himself would confess that he had felt the same way about you. Spending forever with you was all he had ever wanted. Getting married, having kids, and falling more and more in love everyday.

He’d never forgive himself for messing all of that up.

Silence grew between the two of you. Something that never would’ve happened if the two of you were still together. You and Draco had never run out of things to talk about.

You remembered all the nights that he made love to you until neither of you could hold yourselves up. How could you forget the way he cherished every part of you as if it were crafted by the highest hand?

You recalled the way you craved his touch and how he could have you in a puddly, whining mess underneath his hands within mere seconds. You missed his touch. You missed all those times.

You missed him.

Now here you were. Like two total strangers who knew everything about each other. It was heartbreaking.

“I think about you. A lot.” Draco abruptly professed, his voice even quieter on the off chance that Astoria and Blaise might come back waltzing by.

Something you could only describe as pure shock blindsided you. You certainly weren’t expecting THAT at all. As much as you wanted to fling yourself at him, you knew this was wrong. Your head shook, feeling as if it weighed like a ton of bricks.

“Stop.” You meant to say as a stern instruction, but it came out more as a pleading whisper.

He chuckled at himself incredulously, not acknowledging your beg.

“It’s the truth,” He remarked; “You know, I thought that marrying Astoria would fix me. I thought it was going to fill the piece of my life that was missing.”

Your head was still rocketing off flight responses. Every neuron howling at you to stop listening. To ignore. To get over it. To forget. But you wouldn’t.

You couldn’t.

“But I was wrong. I was so wrong. It took me far too long to realize that you’re the only thing that could ever fill that missing piece. You complete that picture,” He explained; “You complete me.”

It was near impossible not to listen to what he was saying. If your heart were beating any harder then it would surely explode. Your eyes were shining with tears that you had been holding back for far too long.

“Draco, I...” You trailed off, your voice quivering.

“Shh. Don’t cry, my pretty girl,” He hushed; “I can leave her, you know. Astoria will never be what you were. I know it, and she knows it. She’ll never say that though.”

It seemed that you were growing more stunned with each word that fell from his lips. He was offering to leave his wife for you. He was more than willing to just drop everything for you. It was a lot to consider...but you weren’t exactly leaping at his invitation.

“We can start over. Just you and me. We can be everything we were before,” He said, leaning in to where his lips were just barely brushing your ear; “All you have to do is say yes.”

It was a hell of a tempting offer. You had a chance to go back to him, to make up for all the time that you lost. You could make more of those amazing memories that you held so close to you.

You could have a life with Draco once again.

As much as you wanted to cave and give him everything you possibly could, there was something that was stopping you from giving in to him. Because even though you had this chance, you knew that it would never be like it was before.

“I can’t.” You hushed out.

You could feel Draco’s heart sink. Now tears were brimming his own eyes, blearing his vision and causing a lump in his throat.

“Please, darling...” He begged; “Why not?”

You shook your head again, holding your breath to stop your own tears from falling down your cheeks. It was killing you to do this, but you knew it was the right thing.

No matter how bad it hurt.

“Because you and I both know it won’t be like it was before. No matter how many times we try to start over,” You told him; “You broke my trust. You broke my heart, Draco. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you for what you did.”

Determination and desperation flashed over his features.

“It was a mistake. A horrible, stupid mistake that I know for a fact that I never would’ve let happen again if you had stayed.” He pleaded.

You swallowed hard, forcing a sob back down.

“And if I had stayed, I’d never be able to go a day without wondering if that’s actually true.” You recanted.

Draco was shattered. He felt like he had been broken into millions of tiny bits that were thrown across the world.

Now he truly knew how you had felt since you left him.

“[Y/N], I-“ He went to say but was cut off.

“I’m sorry, Draco.” You apologized, eyeing Astoria and Blaise beginning to dance their way over to the two of you.

A single tear slipped from Draco’s left eye, the tear rolling down all the way to his jaw. The fate he had feared the most had just come true.

He had just lost his forever. And there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

All he could do was make sure he bared the rest of his heart to the woman he loved the most.

“I love you.” Draco proclaimed.

One of your hands came to cup his face, his head lulling in your soft touch.

“I love you, Draco.”

Before anything else could be said, Astoria and Blaise were at your side. She looked at Draco and back to you, you weren’t sure what it was, but she almost looked as if she knew everything that had just been said.

Without another word, you and Draco stopped dancing. Your arms fell from around him and his hold loosened so you could step away. Astoria’s hand rested on Draco’s shoulder as if to usher him away, but his hands were still holding yours.

His icy eyes looked into yours, as if to silently ask you once more if you would come with him. The look in your eyes told him that your mind was made up. You backed away from him, his fingertips only falling from yours once you were far enough away that he physically couldn’t reach you anymore.

Astoria whisked him away once you were out of their space. Both of you feeling much more empty than before. The rest of the night was much quieter for you. You kept to yourself, feeling as if you had been gutted completely.

And that was the last time you saw Draco Malfoy.

Your first wish of never wanting to see him again came true after that night. You never saw or heard from him again. You constantly found yourself wondering how things turned out for him. You wondered if he stayed with Astoria. You wondered if they had kids. You wondered if they spent forever together.

You wondered if they did all the things that you and Draco were supposed to do.

Your heart never fully moved on from Draco. And his never moved on from you. It was a reality you were never able to come to terms with, but there was one truth that you became all too familiar with.

Sometimes there just are no happy endings.

[mxvladdy]

Hi, I love your writings 💜 and wanted to suggest a prompt, but if it won't hit you or if your requests are closed than feel free to ignore.

What if MC will forget the brother and that they are in relationship (it can be as side effect of some spell /potion etc, but it will last for quite some time, no one knows how long). How brothers will react on that? What they will do to make MC fall in love again, or will they do anything at all? Or they decide that it's the chance to change everything? What if MC won't love them again? I don't know if that can be angsty (I want some angst), or you can do whatever style you find appropriate. Anyway, if you don't feel like doing for 7 brothers you can do only for brothers of your choice (who you feel comfortable to write about, but maybe Lucifer, Mammon and Beel?? ).

Thank you! And have a good day or night!

A/N: 80000 years and a day later I post lol ;.;. Sorry for the wait! I tried something new with this, hope you like :)

So I was going to drop all three at the same time but it turned into 20+ pages of work. So I will post in 3 separate parts since they all turned into beefy boys... Much like their counterparts >:)

Hope you like it!!!

Part One of Three: Lucifer

Magic is a beautiful and powerful thing. It permeates the Devildom like an eternal fog. For the residents, it is as common as breathing. From the strongest of their kind down to the lowest inhabitants, it is integral to their culture and daily life. Mistakes and accidents happen daily with young and old alike learning or experimenting. Magical rebounds and mishaps mean very little to them, especially the brothers. From the Celestial Realms down, they have seen it all.

Sometimes they forget that to you, magic can be a volatile and dangerous.

The crackle of energy and the acrid taste of sour magic on his tongue are his only warnings before things went south. He reaches for you, strong arms moving to shield you from the blowback of energy discharging around you both. Lucifer crouches, turning his back to the explosion to cover you from the debris and dust raining down. The rebound of the failed spell washes over him for a moment turning his stomach on impact. A heavy miasma coats the room. It weighs down his wings momentarily before disappearing as quickly as it had come.

Once the dust settles, the room fills with light-hearted teasing and jabs at the inept caster. Whatever chastising remark he had stuck to his tongue. When he looks down at you the air seizes his lungs in horror. You were heavy and unresponsive in his arms, eyes closed and face slack. Physically, he could see nothing wrong with you, no hair unkempt or dust on your uniform. He shakes you trying in vain to rouse you.

He doesn’t remember fleeing the room with you clutched tight to his chest nor the shouts of his confused brothers all he could focus on was your limp body cradled in his. You weren’t waking up. None of his magic was working, and you were still sleeping. It was like looking down at his brothers all over again. The feeling of dread, of helplessness, had him staggering. You were like his little Lilith all over again, another failure in his unending life span.

The healer's answers do nothing but anger him. Diavolo’s weak speculations drive him into a frenzy. Wait, they want him to wait. For how long was anyone's guess. They say that you just need rest, the human body is unaccustomed to such stresses. That though your body is weak, a human’s spirit is strong. You’ll recover-he had to trust that you would heal on your own. Trust… he had so little of that left to begin with, but he had he gave to you.

He couldn’t lose you. Couldn’t lose this small flicker of hope you brought into his life, of happiness. He didn’t want to be alone again.

So he waits, a permanent sentinel by your bedside. He sits in silence stuck with his sins. His rough hewn palms cover your small hand to warm your cooling finger tips. He strokes them with callused fingers. He contemplates all the little things he could have done differently while he waits. Hells, what he should have done differently. Spells at the best of times were unruly and dangerous and in the hands of a novice? He shakes his head squeezing your hand. He was so stupid to have let you take that course. Why hadn’t he told that weak pissant of a demon off for trying such an incantation? Or at least to take it outside. Was he that bad of a protector? Of a lover? Deep down he wants to be angry at you. That this somehow was all your fault, with your puny human constitution and defenses. He wants to blame you but the moment passes with a gut-twisting sense of guilt and almost shame.

The days move on unceasingly, the clock on your wall mocking him with every steady tick and turn of the hand. With each moon that passes his simmering anger and wounded pride cools to an ice cold fear in his veins. The healers stopped showing up daily, they were at a loss like the rest of them.

No one would say it, least of all around him, but he heard it travel down the halls like an unwelcome guest. The whispered sympathy, the soft admissions of acceptance. He blocks them out, his world narrowing down to nothing but your icy hand and weak pulse. Your room begins to turn into his. His paperwork fills your desk, while he holds meeting over the phone. One hand clutching his phone to his ear and his other always touching you. No one but him is going to take care of you. He refuses help, turning down Diavolo’s increasing offers and pleas of support.

He turns them down each and every time. He will take care of you.

Yet, no matter how much he tends to you and researches you remain inert.

It’s maddening, he was suffocating under the weight. Finally he tips. One night drunk and desperate in his destroyed room he does the last thing he could think of.

The hardwood of his bedroom is unforgiving under his knees. The cold of it soaks through his pants and the harsh grain digs into his skin. But he doesn’t care, he wasn’t looking for absolution anymore, he was begging for your salvation.

It burns him bowing like this. His pride lashes out, roaring like the untamed beast it was as he dives deep searching within himself to find the tattered remains of his former self. Each second with his eyes closed and head bent was tortuous as his pleas fill the oppressive silence of the room. No matter the discomfort of the moment he can only think of you. No cost was too steep to have you open your eyes again.

Lucifer should have known going back to his father would be a mistake. Nothing was ever simple with them, everything was by their rules and their way. Not even being the once most favored son could fix that. Your eyes open, sure. They are hazy with confusion, but also bright and full of life. You were back.

Papers forgotten Lucifer approaches you like he would a wounded animal. He stares in disbelief for a moment before succumbing to his need to hold you. “Amata-” He breathes out in relief into your neck squeezing you closer to him. Lucifer pulls away when he notices you not embracing him back. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. You just took me by surprise is all.” You rub your eyes and smile wearily. “What did I do to deserve such a good morning hug?”

His smile fades, hearts sinking. “Do you not remember?”

“Remember?” Hmmm. You look around you at the clutter of your room. “I- remember being in class, then you over me.” Something must have happened, but for the life of you, you couldn’t recall. He fills you in leaving small blanks hoping to see some recognition in your bewitching eyes. But you sit, nodding along taking his word as gospel truth. “Wow.” You lean back on your pillows. To be asleep for so long, you had so much work to catch up on. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

There was an odd look in his eyes before he nods, rising to his feet. “Of course… for you, anything.” He flees then, choking back a sea of emotions to go fetch a healer to look you over. It was as he expected. You were whole and healthy again, back to your old wonderful self. Except for him. Did you truly remember none of him? Have you really forgotten how he held you at night when you were able to tear him from his works.

How could you forget the words he would whisper to you as you drifted off long after the candles had been snuffled out, the sweat had cooled on your skin, and your limbs loose and tangled with his? Would you ever remember the way he would watch you at school? How he would search for you and watch you with vigilante and hungry eyes. You were not his little lamb anymore. Even after everything he had lost you.

It was what he bargained for with his father it seemed.

He calls a meeting soon after informing his brothers and the Prince of your condition without telling them of his speculations as to why. “We will say nothing.” He speaks standing rigidly while the room erupts with confusion around him.

“Why not tell them?” Beelzebub asked brows drawn low in concern.

“And say what?” Lucifer rubs at his nose pinching the bridge tightly already feeling a dull throbbing growing underneath. “What would it change?” He leaves it at that and retreats to his room. He looks at his dusty chambers and broken furniture from his explosive temper. It is so cold again without you there. This is how it must be. The thought brings a broken whine from his lips. Tt soaks through his leather gloved hand, refusing to be shoved down. He didn’t want to believe he was so forgettable, that something as intimate as his trust and love was so weak in your soul. He had thought surely he had ingrained himself deeper than that. You were in his mind.

He turns to his private libraries that night, looking for any scrap of information he could find. Perhaps the threads of him were there within you, maybe they just needed to be mended. He often forgot how malleable the human mind was, how easily things can just slip from them. Each book on the topic started promisingly enough before piddling off to a dead-end or debunked hypothesis.

He hunts down the student that had fired the spell. If he knew the original purpose of the spell maybe he could recreate the reaction? No, yet another dead end.

He comes to realize one night sitting hunched over on the grimy floor that either your mixed blood had altered the spell's intentions or the fact that since you were not in your original timeline it had changed something deeper within you that none of them had taken into consideration. Or, perhaps-just maybe he truly did make a deal with Father.

Devil below, he hoped that wasn’t true. How ironic it would be that the first time they had heard his pleas to only answer it with more pain and punishment. Either way, he must accept this...eventually.

“You know, if you keep frowning like that it’ll leave permit winkles.” Lucifer ignores his brother, not glancing up from his journals to entertain him. He had recently found more old tomes deep in his studies. “Luci.” Multi-colored nails block his view of his documents.

“Move Asmodeus. I will not ask again.”

Asmo frowns but moves his hand back to his hip. “You need to breathe brother. Take a minute for yourself.” Lucifer snorts dismissively, flipping to the next page. Asmo sighs deeply, his old bones rattling with the heavy gust of air. “You know you won’t find anything in there. We’ve all tried, you know? Read up on fruitless leads and scoured the depths of the catacombs too. Satan’s hands are a mess from rummaging through his books.” He swallows thickly. “Perhaps it is time.”

“Time for what?” Lucifer rises to his impressive height towering over his smaller brethren. “I do not like what you are implying Sakhr.” Asmo flinches, he hates that damn name. He calms the simmering rage underneath his well kept skin. Lucifer was hurting, he lashes out blindly when he is. He always suffers alone.

“I’m not implying anything. We just want-” Lucifer laughs, the hollow sound pulls at the emptiness within Lust’s heart.

“What would you know of my wants?” His ruby eyes lock with Asmo’s. It was a mistake. Lucifer’s presence was imposing at the best of times, but as mad as he was now it was a knee jerk reaction from Asmo to put his guard up. It was a strong defensive mechanism that Asmo took special care not to let slip, but as Lucifer approaches him shoulder hunching and chest puffing up in anger. It took only a moment for his defenses to take over, eyes locking Lucifer saw exactly what he wanted reflected back at him.

He didn’t know what Lucifer saw but he could see the absolute agony etching into his older brother's glassy eyes with each second. Asmo steps back breaking eye contact with a gasp, the trance between them breaking. “I-I’m sorry!” He trembles.

Lucifer says nothing but raises a shaking finger while he collects himself. Finally, he looks up, face impassive once more. He shakes his head and points to the two chairs in front of his desk. A wordless order that Asmo takes. Asmodeus watches Lucifer busy himself with a decanter, broad back turned to him. “You meant no harm,” Lucifer says, voice tight. He turns back with two glasses in hand. “ I-my aggression was unnecessary.” He offers Asmo a glass before sitting back in his throne-like chair with a grunt. They drink in silence.

Asmo swirls the spicy drink around his tongue thinking hard. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He thought he could make things better by offering a shoulder or ear, perhaps tell Lucifer that you were doing well. You didn't seem to notice the hole at the table or in the classroom where Lucifer used to join you and the rest of them to eat or study. They had missed seeing him look so at peace around them. Everything had reverted back to like it was when you first arrived between the two of you, and it was affecting everyone. “Talk to me?” Lucifer blinks.

“And say what?” He peers at his empty glass before grabbing the decanter. “I’m fine? I have meetings piling up and I frankly don’t give a damn anymore. Or the fact that I have yet to cancel the table I had reserved for our anniversary dinner?” His last words waver dangerously before he burns them away with a large gulp of his drink. He sees the look in Asmo’s honey-colored eyes when he looks up. “I don’t need pity.”

Asmodous sniffs, waving away the thought. “Please. We all know better than that. I just want to check on you, and perhaps give you an idea?”

“What idea could you have that I have not thought of?” He asks curiously. Asmo lights up leaning in.

“What if we’ve been going about this the wrong way? We’ve been looking at magic to solve this when the answer was in front of us the whole time. Humans aren’t used to magic, so why look to it for the solution?”

“I don’t follow.” Lucifer puts his glass down leaning back in his chair. Was science what he needed to look at? He had tried that, had talked to human doctors and surgeons that owed him “favors”. They were as unhelpful as the rest.

“We are thinking like demons! We have to think like a human, woo them again. You did it once, surely their attraction wasn’t wiped out, just their memories.” Ahh. Lucifer shakes his head. He had thought of that, staring at himself in the mirror. Many nights were filled with the nagging fears of defeat. If his father had a hand in your recovery could he even be allowed to try again? Lucifer looks back at all the things he said those nights kneeling by your side. It was foolish, what even contract he might have accidentally made had too many open ends, too many half wishes, and clauses.

“I’m afraid I have already thought of that my brother.”

“Then why haven’t you tried? Have you given up?” Asmo is met with silence. “Does that mean the rest of us have a chance?” He gets the reaction he was looking for then. Lucifer’s form shutters, a full body twitch as his body blurs around the edges in warning. “Seems to me like you haven’t given up yet. So what is stopping you.”

Lucifer crumbles under his brother’s worried gaze. Perhaps he could divulge his worry, just this once. “I asked father Az.”

Asmo gasps in surprise, eyes wide in disbelief, then dawning realization. “You think They did this?” Lucifer shrugged, running a hand through his disheveled locks. “They wouldn’t-they couldn’t...could they?” None of the brothers knew what their father was up to anymore, nor if They were even still able to track them. It was an ever present cloud of stress over all of them. While they trusted Diavolo and his protection, the nagging fear was never-ending.

“This is perfect!” Asmo claps his hands together. Lucifer stares at him in confusion. Lust’s smile grew toothy and dangerous. “Do you know what this means?”

“No.” His younger brother snorts looking down at his nails. His mind was running a mile a minute. For as organized and crafty as Lucifer is, he sure had his moments.

“Think about it. If Father did meddle then you have to try courting them again. Defying Father is a talent!” Asmo claps his hands in giddy delight. “Wouldn’t it just chafe their linens if you got back together?”

“And what if They didn’t meddle?”

“Then what do you have to lose?” Lucifer laughs. It was breathy and lifeless at the start but grew in intensity as Asmo’s words sunk in. Why was it when he said it it made sense?

“As devious as ever Az.” Lucifer smiles. Yes, he could win you back easily and reclaim his pride all in one fell swoop. “Thank you for reminding me of who I am.” They were troublemakers, the lot of them and it was time for him to prove it once more that he was the worst of them.

He starts the next day dressing down for once in his long life. He wears an outfit you always complement tucked neatly into a pair of dress slacks you bought him after a date gone awry. He smirked, remembering the tight squeeze of your hand on him on the drive home. The friction of your palm on the smooth material...he tipped his dry cleaner extra that night. “Good morning.” He purrs out in greeting taking his seat at the head of the table. The few brothers around the table freeze for a moment, keen eyes darting from him to where you sat still eating as if nothing had changed. Asmodeus shot him a wink.

“Morning.” You chirp back around your spoon. “It’s good to see you back at the table. Finally got a break from work?” The demons hold their collective breath.

“Yes, you can say that I came to a revelation of sorts.” He hums into his mug.

From that point on no matter what corner you turn on Lucifer was there. A pleasant smile on his lips and an offer of aid. “Thank you for the help!” You drop the large stack of books on your desk with a satisfied grunt. “You know- even though our pack is still somewhat new, if you need help with your work I’d be glad to give you a hand too!”

“Would you?” He hides his predatory grin under his hand. “ Some of the matters I have to attend to will require some long, hard work. It may take up some of your nights.” The flush that graces your cheeks and the warm buzz from his pact mark make him giddy.

“I’m willing.”

Slowly he begins to pull you back into his world. He leaves well placed hints of your past together scattered around his workspace. Your favorite Devildom blooms and treats always seem to be around when you come to offer your help in the evening. He slips old pet names into daily conversations as you scribble notes and transcribe letters for him by the soft light of his desk lamp. Pacing himself was never so hard before in his life. Was he finally cracking through? Or were you falling for him again? It was a heady rush to be sure, the mix of anticipation and thrill of such earthly courting made him realize many things he didn’t see the first time around. He learns all over again just what he loved about you.

He had forgotten how patient you were around him and with his siblings. Your keen eye and attention to detail reminded him just why he trusted you. You flitted about him picking up things he missed and settling brotherly disputes without him having to waste his breath. It was almost like things were going back to normal, minus the cold sheets beside him at night. But he sticks to his plan, finding pleasure in simply learning about you all over again.

It came to an end sooner than he had expected.

“Enter.” Lucifer calls from his overflowing desk. It was finals time once again and the damages done to school property were picking up dramatically. He heard your fluttering heartbeat before you even entered his domicile. It picks up as you approach.

“Am I interrupting?

Lucifer looks up from his work, a grin growing on his tired face. “For you, never.” You smile back, coming closer. You held a mug of coffee in your hands. The beast within him wanted to raise its hackles in triumph and howl. His life must be a divine comedy. This night is playing out just like it did nearly a year ago. Did you remember too? Or was this just how it always was meant to be?

“I haven’t seen you in a bit, and got concerned.” You fiddle with the handle of the copper mug. Lucifer nods, it was true. He regrettably had to put his plans with you on hold, he had spent so much time scheming he had let a few things build up. “Asmo told me you were hold up in here working, and I thought you could use a pick me up. He-he helped me make you some coffee.”

Ah. It wasn’t the same as the first time, but it was a matter of time before his sibling started meddling again. He takes the cup from your outstretched hand. “Thank you, this is much appreciated.” You glow under his praise taking a seat by his side.

“Need any help?” You eye the stack of papers with interest. “I’ve gotten pretty good at reading the fine print.”

“Have you now?” He pushes a small stack of papers towards you. “Very well, I would love your company again.” You take the work with a nod eager to spend time with him again. He watches you work, unable to contain his growing smile before looking down at the cup by his side. The tar-black coffee looks back at him. Oh, how he wished to commend his brother and berate him all at once. It is putrid and stomach-churning but he savors it all the same.

“Is it alright?” You pause watching him drink in. You have never seen him so enraptured by a drink before.

“Yes.” It will be.

[aethwrs]

Let me help you

Agatha Harkness x Reader

A/N: I'm not really proud of this but I hope you like it. I'll fix the possible mistakes later.Also, please tell me if I should add any trigger warning.

TW: mental control, mentions of nightmares

══════════════════════

Silent streets, the loud sound of gusts of wind and large blood-red clouds covering most of the night sky gave the environment a gloomy appearance. Blasts of crimson red and purple magic were seen here and there, both coming from different witches who were fighting each other, their magic altering that chaotic environment in which lightning and thunder could now be seen and heard.

Agatha was trying to take Wanda's powers, while she was trying to save and keep standing that city that was the product of her sorrow and sadness, in which she now had her own family with the man she had lost time ago.

“You’re hurting these people, Wanda” Agatha's voice was present, causing Wanda to look up, finding the owner of that voice standing on the edge of a building with a malicious smile plastered on her face as she watched how a crowd of neighbors approached the red-haired witch, begging her to stop causing them pain.

“Stop this” Wanda muttered as she looked around and listened to the neighbours who begged to be released from her mind control, “Stop this!” She yelled, this time addressing Agatha who was watching the situation from above.

“I am not the one causing them pain, dear” she chuckled, her hands pointing to the people surrounding the other witch. “I just cut their strings”

Just seconds after Agatha said that, she watched as Wanda disappeared right in front of her eyes and without even having time to react, she felt cold hands settle on the sides of her head and then some red mist clouded her vision, her eyes turning the same color as that mist.

In the blink of an eye Agatha found herself back in that forest that was once her home but now, the memory of it only caused her nightmares and pain.

No, she couldn't be there.

No.

She didn't want to be there, not again.

"Agatha!" she heard the distant screams coming from among the tall trees. With Wanda closely following her, Agatha slowly approached the place from which those screams were coming.

Taking the place where she was that night, Agatha saw how her constant nightmare and worst memory was happening again, but unlike how it happened in dreams, this felt real.

"Harkness do something!" Agatha watched your face twist in pain as you screamed with all your might, for some reason your powers weren't working and you weren't able to defend yourself on your own. But no matter how much you yelled at her, young Agatha still didn't know how to use her dark magic to help and all she did was protect herself from the hunters with a barrier.

"I can't" Agatha murmured, more to herself than to you, she couldn't understand someone with as much power as you was unable to defend herself.

Your gaze full of fear and anger sought to make eye contact with the other young woman while you tried to resist the men's attempts to take you away.

"AGATHA!" Your voice reflected your pain, you were helpless. You were exhausted and did not know how long it would be until you passed out from the physical pain caused by a powerful force that you were not able to recognize. You felt how it drained the last traces of energy you had and before everything faded to black, you whispered, "help me"

Those were the last words Agatha heard from you and what happened next was just a blur.

Opening her eyes, Agatha found herself in the same situation as before. Wanda in front of her a few meters away and...no, it couldn't be real. Her mind was surely playing with her because otherwise, it would not explain what was in front of her eyes.

"I see you recognise her, don't you?" Wanda said in a mocking and sarcastic tone while one of her hands kept your head fixed looking at Agatha. It was you. Y/n. But how? "Cat caught your tongue?" The redhead laughed bitterly and she could swear that she saw Agatha's eyes soften in fear.

"Y/N...how?" Agatha yelled the last part looking at the young woman, who released one of your hands, letting you fall a few inches while you let out a small cry of fear.

"Harkness for the love of-" You started yelling at her right before Wanda silenced you. Oh it was you definitely, Agatha would recognize your kind and patient personality anywhere. You were struggling to get out of Wanda's grip, kicking and hitting but there's no need to say that it wasn't working.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, dear" the red-haired witch whispered in your ear, earning a death glare coming from the oldest witch.

"What do you want, Maximoff?" Agatha muttered as Wanda smiled evily.

"You leave me and my family in peace" She started, playing with a lock of your hair between her fingers, Agatha's eyes watching every single move she made. "and you two can stay alive"

"Let her go first" you rolled your eyes, still unable to say a single word while Agatha negotiated your 'freedom'.

"As you please" and with a flick of her hand, Wanda disappeared in a cloud of red smoke, letting you fall freely from the heights.

Knowing you would use your magic to stop the fall, Agatha stayed in her spot, surprising herself when the only thing she saw was how you didn't even attempt to save yourself and instead, you only called out her name.

Going as fast as she could, she caught you a few inches before you hit the ground, hands gripping your waist tightly to help you get on your feet.

"Are you really alive?" She whispered, fixing and taking out the dirt from her dress.

"I'm as alive as you are, Harkness" You coldly answered, tying your shoelaces and moving her out of the way, ready to go. "Now move"

"You didn't use your magic, why?" Agatha blurted out of nowhere, her eyebrows raised and a serious expression on her face. "And how are you here?"

"That crazy witch just pulled me into this dream town and surprisingly, I couldn't do anything" you sarcastically replied to her and emphasized the words 'dream town'. Rolling your eyes in annoyance you approached her, getting dangerously close to her face "guess why? oh yeah, I have NO MAGIC!"

Taking advantage of the closeness, she looked into your eyes. You were infuriated, yes, but your eyes also showed her how the pain bottled inside of you screamed to get out and take control of your body.

"What do you mean you don't have magic?" Although your closeness made her somewhat nervous, she simply decided to ignore it and continue her questioning.

"You see, for example, you can use spells and continue with your evil witch-style plans..." you began to explain with a false expression of joy and a calm tone of voice while moving your hands in the air as way of emphasizing your words "and I can't!"

The sudden change in your voice made her move slightly away from you, not because she was scared, but surprised. But who was she to judge you for being mad?

"You're as lovely as I remember you" she replied sarcastically, hearing a sigh coming from you.

"Same goes for you" you told her, your voice monotonous and cold, since you only wanted to leave that place but she was making you waste your time. "But now, if you excuse me, I have to go" You pushed Agatha aside, ready to go before she stopped you once again.

"You are so stubborn" she muttered under her breath and with a simple move of her hands, both of you appeared on her basement, your eyes quickly scanning every corner of the gloomy place.

"If I remember clearly, you used to like that" It seemed like you were just teasing her and if it were another time, she would have done it too, but the venom in each of your words made her realise how mad you actually were, so maybe the jokes should wait. "oh and for you to keep in mind, you just brought me here against my will...very villainous may I add"

"What I was trying to say is, I can help you" Evading any sarcastic reply she could think of, Agatha remained serious as she spoke.

"Why would I trust you?" You shrugged and asked without even looking at her while you inspected the books stored on the shelves.

"Because you know me" The brunette simply answered and pointed to one of the old books "and take that one"

"Do I really?" You turned to her with the book full of dust in your hands, determined to question everything you could, knowing how much it irritated her.

"As much as you probably hate me, you must accept that you need my help" Agatha gestured for you to come closer to her "You know I wouldn't hurt you so...let me help you"

"But you wouldn't protect me either" you whispered and chuckled, the words coming out of your mouth unintentionally.

"Y/n, about that day I-" she tried to explain but stopped once you stood in front of her handling her the book.

"I don't feel like talking about that now" you said softly, sighing and showing her a gesture similar to a smile that even if it wasn't one, gave her some hope.

"Then let's start with this book" Agatha added, leading you to a small altar in one of the corners. "We have a long way to go"

[saphirered]

Late Night  Caleb Widogast x reader

*You got in the splash zone of a fireball and have a good post battle talk with the caster assuring him it’s not his fault you got hurt*

The fight was turning and not in your favour. Two away from the main fight. One down. You use your staff to swing at your opponent and deflect a blow from another with the other end. Behind you you saw Fjord looking between you and the unconscious wizard on the docks. 

“Go! I’ll be fine!” You shouted swiping the legs out from under one of the crew members. Within a second Fjord teleported away and started making his way toward Caleb. You started going the same way too but on the gangplank you were met with the Captain herself. She came at you with her rapier and you just managed to avoid the first hit but the second one cut into your arm pretty deeply. You’ve had much worse though but with the ship behind you and Avantika in front you couldn’t really go anywhere. She kept attacking you but you managed to hold your ground landing some good hits yourself but the fight seemed far from over until a red light shot out from the far docks hitting the ship. The heat of a fireball burned at your side and you were flung off the gangplank barely making it onto the docks. Avantika seemed to be fine and just out of range but now you were far enough away from her. Grunting you got up, your entire left side of your body tingling, scorched red and bleeding. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been had you been at the centre like some of the unlucky crew members but it still hurt a good bit. You ignored the pain and as the Captain looked behind her to see you get up with a smirk and a wave taking a sprint as far as you could until you were stopped by guards. You held up your hands in surrender and just followed along with the others. 

From your position you could see Caleb standing frozen in place eyes glazed over arm stretched out as the guards grabbed him. Though from what you could see, the wizards wouldn’t be in the right mind to cast spells any time soon. Everyone went along and you were begging the gods the plan worked out and Beau and Jester got the book to the Plank King.

——————————————————————————

Everything had worked out fine in the end… at least as well as to be expected and the Nein now had ownership of the Squalleater and were back on sea with their crew, all banished from Darktow. The sun set a few hours ago and you took watch as you felt like sleep would not come to you easily anyway. Jester and Caduceus had been able to heal your injuries but you still felt like you had taken a dive off a cliffside onto the rocks. You stand on the deck watching the sky, the sails blowing in the wind and into the vast darkness of the never ending sea, Darktow now far behind. Stuck in your own world you don’t hear Caleb getting onto the deck and pick a spot far away from you staring into nothingness. Deciding it’s time to try and get some sleep you get up but seeing the wizard sitting at bow of the ship looking at the partially scorched masts and deck fiddling with something between his fingers you decide against it after all. You walk over and sit down next to him. He doesn’t respond beyond the brief pause of his motions let you know he knows you are there.

“If you want me to leave you alone I can go.” You look at him expecting some sort of a response, words or not but you got none. Waiting a little bit longer you eventually get up. Half up a hand wrapped around your arm so you sit back down in a comfortable silence. You know, to an extend what he had been through and what happened in Darktow triggered some bad memories. Caleb would talk if he felt like talking so you’d wait patiently and you stay with him night and day if it means he’d utter even a single word. He’s suffering and sometimes someone just being there can make even the tiniest difference. At least, for you it had in the past. Hours pass and you gather from the sky you are but hours away from dawn though only Caleb can confirm your estimate more precisely. Your mind starts wandering again looking at the sky, the endless seas ahead but you are pull out of your thoughts by the wizard speaking. 

“How?” Caleb breaks the silence. The word came out raspy and ridden with guilt and pain, eyes still trained on the scorched ship. “How can you still look me in the eye let alone sit next to me knowing what I did to you?” A pitied frown creeps onto your face as you tried to formulate an answer. You feel bad for him but that doesn’t change the way he’s feeling. 

“Because it was never your intend. Because sometimes accidents happen. Caleb, you might be one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met but you can’t know everything. You can’t control everything no matter how hard you try. You didn’t know I was there and to be honest, if you hadn’t cast that spell I’m sure I’d be dead right now with my head on a spike or weighed down by some rocks at the bottom of the sea.” You turned to face him. “I’m alive aren’t I? I’m still here and I’m still kicking. That’s what counts.” You softly put you hand on the side of his face and turned it away from looking at the fading burn marks now no more than a bad sunburn thanks to the clerics. 

“I don’t want to lose anyone else. I don’t know why even the thought of losing you hurts so much. I can’t afford to lose someone else.” He’s conflicted. Caleb never truly cared about who lived or died. Sure he’s grown attached to the Mighty Nein but wouldn’t hesitate to run should it come to it. At least, that’s how it had been. He’s changing, experiencing things he hadn’t felt in a long while. A sense of belonging, friends maybe even family. He’s not alone anymore and while that comes with many perks, it also came with risks and downsides to the way of life he has grown so accustomed to.

“It hurts because you are a good man, Caleb. It shows you have a heart and care for those other than yourself.” You reach for his bandaged hand but don’t touch until he places his hand in yours. You give his hand a squeeze and guiding him slightly to the side so you can see his expression.

“I’m anything but a good man. The things I’ve done, I’ll never be a good man.” He looks down at your hands and you bit your lip. Despite his hunger for learning and broadening his mind he is stubborn and changing his mind is as difficult as getting Nott to give up alcohol.

“I’m only going to tell you this once so listen carefully.” You encompass the hand you’re holding and move to unwrap the bandage. To your surprise he doesn’t stop you and turns his arm to make it easier for you to do so. “You feel that pain? That guilt and regret and heartbreak tearing at your soul? Don’t wallow in it for it will not serve you well. You carry your mistakes and regrets with you and they will weigh you down like bricks. You use your bricks to build but your actions will determine whenever you are building a palace or a prison. Only you can make that decision but know you have the potential to create a better tomorrow for everyone.” You remove the bandages from his left arm and moved on to the right. Caleb keeps his focus on your hands as you work. While your hands may be weathered and show the years of labor and harsh circumstances  your touch is soft, careful and deliberate like a porcelain painter, delicate and precise with fragile material. 

“These scars? They are part of you but they are not all you are. You are so much more than your past, Caleb.” You trace the scars on his arms. His eyes focus on your every movement.

“You want revenge on those who wronged you and hurt you like they did and continue to do so many others and I swear, if that is what you desire, what you need I will help you do so but do not let it be your undoing. You use your guilt and anger and mistakes and you use them to drive you but do not forget your compassion, kindness and desire to right your wrongs and remember why you are on this path. You are not alone anymore. Empires rise and fall by the actions of one. Imagine what a bunch of assholes trying leave a place better than they found it can do to the world.” He finally looks you in the eye and you can see the turmoil trying to calculate and process what’s going through his mind. The Caleb always quick witted and charismatic seems to have problems finding words.

“Thank you… For everything.” He trails off. You start picking up the bandages to wrap his arms again. “No leave them… For now at least.” He traces over one of the more prominent scars. 

“Only told you what you undoubtedly already knew but are just to stubborn to accept, you idiot.” He musters a smile at your comment and breathes in deeply.

“A bunch of assholes changing the world? I like the sound of that.” 

[kirythestitchwitch]

Til I Tasted You: Chapter 2

Bonnie talks Caroline into trying out a "To Find A Mate" spell. The traveling through time part was completely unexpected, as was who the spell reveals. Chapter One on AO3

Uh hi so, this is like three years later! I got inspiration and like was well, I might as well do that sequel everyone asked for!

Thank you @cupcakemolotov and @certifiedceraunophile for your advice and encouragement!

Tags: Time Travel, Mates, Woodsy Makeouts, Magical Accidents, Human Klaus Mikaelson, Vampire Caroline Forbes, things do not go as planned, Werewolf Mates, this isn't a slow burn this is two idiots , tanding around on fire, very tense conversations on porches, You ever just YEARN?, it's yearning hours, Hybrid Klaus Mikaelson, Yeah the 'does he find out?' chapter is here

Caroline parked her car in front of the house and breathed for a minute in the dark, forehead pressed to the steering wheel. She'd had to haltingly explain to Bonnie while wrapped in her comforter what happened.

Embarrassed, horrified, and intrigued in equal measure, Bonnie had seemed to understand what she meant when she tried to explain the way touching him had felt. “It’s the mate bond. It how they… know,” she said awkwardly, gesturing to one of the books still on the floor.

A horrible thought occurred to Caroline. “So you knew. You knew that Tyler wasn’t, because we didn’t...” she trailed off, but Bonnie seemed to understand.

“I knew,” her friend nodded guiltily. “I thought maybe someone new might help, after he...” She bit her lip, obviously thinking how badly that had backfired.

"Damon's going to want to use this," her friend had whispered. And not for the first time, Caroline wondered how much of herself she had to give up for Elena’s happiness. Klaus wasn’t good, he wasn’t kind, but according to very adamant magic, he was hers. And he’d tried to kill her twice.

She could deal with this tomorrow, she thought, finally climbing out of the car. First period history tests didn’t care that your world had been upended, they only cared about essay questions about the political tensions of France in 1789. As she set her foot on the top porch step, Klaus’ voice came out of the dark. “Having a pleasant evening, Caroline?” Her head snapped up.

Klaus leaned casually in the shadow of one of the porch posts, like showing up unannounced at 9pm when she was in a crisis didn't make him a big creepy weirdo. His eyes perused her appearance before refocusing on her face. Something a little like hope, like satisfaction, dawned on his face. "Leave something in the woods?"

Caroline inhaled sharply. Under Bonnie's borrowed shirt she could still feel echoes of his hands gripping her close, could still taste him when she licked her lips, and it felt like the most searing of damnations to still somehow want him. She scoffed anyway. "Did everyone go hiking today? I must have missed the invite."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "That is not the yellow shirt you were wearing this morning. Rebekah was quite... detailed."

She looked away, flush crawling up her cheeks in mortification. "I guess it was too much to hope you had forgotten?" Perversely, desperately, she had wanted him to have remembered.

Klaus didn't seem to breathe and then with a quick step he erased the concept of personal space. "If you think I have forgotten a single moment of what it felt like to touch you in all the time I have had to contemplate what you mean to me, you have not been paying attention." He lifted his hand and with careful fingers touched one of her curls as one touches something precious and burning.

She swatted his hand away. "I think I've been paying attention every time you tried to kill me, Klaus!"

"Do tell," he said neutrally, rubbing his fingertips against his thumb before dropping his hand.

Crossing her arms, she glared at him. This close to him the urge to reach for him was prickling under her palms again and that way lay madness. “You kidnapped me and tried to use me in your murdery hybrid ritual,” she said.

His fingers twitched again, and he shoved them in his pockets. “Yes, I can see how having you and my hybrid safely tucked away from the Salvatore’s incompetence for an afternoon was actually mistaken for an attempt on your life,” he said mildly.

“They snapped my neck and manacled me to a wall, and I was supposed to think ‘Ah, Klaus is trying to save my life, of course, that’s completely obvious!’”

Klaus lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “It seemed expedient at the time.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Okay, then please explain making Tyler bite me over a pissing contest you had with Stefan.”

For the first time, Klaus looked away, lips pressed firmly together. “There was never a moment where I would have let you die.”

“Hey no, you don’t get to pull that ‘You were never in any danger’ crap,” she snapped. “I was terrified and I was dying, and you...” You made me want to start living again, was what she couldn’t say.

“He called you his girlfriend,” Klaus’s golden rimmed gaze practically collided with hers with a fury she could feel like radiant heat on her skin. “His girlfriend, like such an infantilizing word could describe what you could be to someone, like you were his. I gave him the chance to prove me wrong, to show me he could defy me for your sake. He failed.”

It took a moment for Caroline to speak again. “You had him bite me because you were jealous?” she asked, incredulously.

Klaus shifted his weight, and then clenched his jaw, gold fading from his eyes. “As if I could be jealous of a boy who has no concept of what it is like to touch the sun and then spend a millennium looking for daylight in every strangers’ face.” His arms bunched as he held himself still, and Caroline remembered what they felt like under her hands, warmth and crystal clear belonging humming at her fingertips.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the swooping feeling in her stomach. “You can’t just… you can’t just say things like that when I’m furious with you,” she said looking back at him, frustrated, mad, and horribly, undeniably charmed.

Giving her ample time to move, Klaus leaned in slowly until his breath feathered against her face. “When you left me in that forest,” He said lowly, “It was with a name, a bit of fabric, and a yearning I had no reference for. I went home and I died that night, and days later when the wolf came clawing out of me, I awoke tied to a post with the bone deep knowledge of what I had gained and what I had lost.” He licked his lips and she could hardly breathe.

“For a thousand years you stayed lost, and I kept your shirt until time unwound it and the faintest scraps remained. So do not presume to tell me that Tyler has something for me to be jealous of when he fled at the first hint of shame.” Very carefully he took a step back, hands sliding from his pockets to clasp behind his back, as if those few precious inches would make the difference.

Caroline dug her nails into her arms and held onto her anger with both fists. “Klaus, you’ve done… so many terrible things since you came into our lives and you, you did them knowing who I was. You killed Elena, you killed Jenna, you tortured Stefan, you turned Tyler into a minion, and… me. You hurt me.” Mulishly, she set her jaw against the gnawing pit behind her breast bone. “Just because I did some dumb spell that says we’re-” She cut herself off, unable to erase or fit the enormity of time travel into the universe’s neon sign sized hint that they were mates.

More evenly she said, "You chose to do those things and you didn't choose me."

Something cracked open behind his eyes, a yearning of a thousand years laid bare. Voice low and rough, he said, "And if I did? If I did choose you? Would my mate also choose me?" He watched her so carefully, this monster that even death didn't want, and she remembered the way he had barely touched her, not so long ago in her bed.

Carefully, Caroline stepped close, unclenching fingers, unwinding her arms. Klaus went hunter still, waiting while she brought a hand up to his face and deliberately cupped his cheek. The pleasurable rush this time was instantaneous, honey-gold and thick through her veins, leaping skin to skin with a roar of here here here is what I was looking for. With a shudder, Klaus closed his eyes and leaned into her palm, breathed in the scent of her pulse, lips pressed to the base of her thumb. It was relief, it was torture, it was like putting out a hearthfire by burning down the house.

This was a mistake, a miscalculation. The ache of arousal twisted through her, opening a chasm of need in her that didn’t answer to principles or objections, that knew his silver tongue could make better promises on her clit until she begged for his cock. A core deep knowledge that he would deny her nothing she wanted in this and more than she could know to ask for.

Drawing in an unsteady breath (don’t moan don’t moan) she pulled her hand back, the pads of her fingers scraping against the scruff of his face. He didn’t quite follow her hand, letting her go. The wolf in his eyes, he watched her clutch her hands to her chest and it looked like triumph.

“Will it always be like that?” Caroline asked shakily.

Klaus made a considering noise in his throat. “It is said there is some element of intent to it, after a certain point,” he said, the smugness back in his voice. “If it’s what you want.”

She narrowed her eyes, ignoring that rude inner voice that whispered how much she did want. “I guess we’ll see.”

He smiled at her, charm tucked in his dimples as he rocked back on his heels. “I look forward to seeing how I can make things up to you, Caroline.”

And then with a whisper of wind she was alone on her porch, her blood still singing in memory of his heat on her skin.

[taiyaki-choco]

Hi! Your writing is really good and I can't wait for more. Could I request s/o who was a childhood friend of Moriarty brothers and is working with them in criminal world. Like she was a maid when Moriarty madsion burned down and she got out. If you don't want to write it feel free to ignore it. Just remember to take care of yourself. Have nice day/night!

Author’s note: I’m really glad and happy to know that you enjoy my writing!! Thank you for your concern and I hope you are in good health as well. This is my first request and I hope it is to your liking. I apologise in advance for any grammar or spelling mistakes and also for posting this later than I thought I would because I’m having public examination. Currently, we have just started a new semester and at the same time having a total lockdown T^T

Spoiler warning: Mention about post explosion of Moriarty household which is in Season 2

You met him and his brother during a rainy night. It is unexpected but nevertheless you managed to find shelter for the time being despite you were drenched from the rain.

After fixing yourself a little, you looked around and saw two boys having the same predicament as you.

You looked and observed them but what you didn’t realised was that you stare a bit too long and one of them started talking by saying “Yes, do you need something?”

You thought you were subtle enough... but no you weren’t. Slowly, you began to talk to them just to pass time while waiting for the rain to subside.

Eventually, you get to know him and his brother named Louis. Through talking overnight, the 3 of you became friends as you do share the same thought and ideal with them.

Knowing how unfair the class system is, knowing that how you are looked down upon by the upper class, knowing that you won’t be getting any equal rights and you just hated this rotten world that is solely based on money or status.

You began tagging along with them and soon became inseparable, the 3 of you would go into the reading room of British Museum without permission to gain knowledge by reading the unlimited books there. After all, knowledge is power.

When the 3 of you were found out by the librarian, you were sent away to the nearby orphanage.

After a few weeks, both the brothers were adopted while you were hired as a maid in the Moriarty manor. You were an under class and because of that status often you had always been picked on by the servants there.

When the manor burned down, you were lucky enough to escaped and reunite with both the brothers and Albert. He took the name William from the second child of Moriarty.

Years have passed, you are now helping them with their ‘work’. You became William’s assistant and together both of you would plan on how to eliminate those bad nobles.

You are glad to meet them especially William, somehow along the way you develop feelings for him.

You always look forward to meet William and to plan on how to make the death of their targets look like an accident.

Both of you would talk about your day or start any discussion after finish planning. Through this way, both of you are able to cope up with each other.

One day, while you were in deep thought you bumped into someone. You closed your eyes in reflex and anticipated the fall but it never happened.

You opened your eyes and saw William holding your hand to prevent you from falling and pulls you towards him.

“Be careful there.” He said giving you a soft smile. Your heart just skipped a beat and you started to feel the heat creep into your cheeks.

“Are you okay, dear? You look flustered.” He said while observing your face. Deep down he knew about your feelings because it is mutual. He just wanted to tease you and get a little reaction from you.

Looking at your face which is even redder after his statement, he can’t help but to let out a chuckle. You just look so cute and how he wish he could protect your smile and your entire being from this cruel society.

Both of you would then take a walk in the garden and somehow without thinking you expressed your feelings. You were scared that he will reject you and thought of fleeing away but he caught you by your wrist.

He hugs you and return back the feelings that he holds for you. He placed a kiss on your forehead looking at you with a set of gentle and loving eyes thinking of how lucky he is to had met you on that rainy night.

You met the brothers when you were sneaking into the British Museum again.

When you are turning into a corner you bang into the someone. You rubbed the throbbing pain on your head and look at who you bumped into.

When you opened your eyes, you saw a boy around your age on the ground rubbing his head as well.

“I’m sorry as I did not look where am I going.” You said as you held out a hand to helped him up.

As time goes by you begin getting closer to the brothers as 3 of you would sneak in the reading room together to read books and gain knowledge from it.

Unfortunately, you were caught by a librarian and the 3 of you are sent off to the nearby orphanage. Your bond with them begin to strengthened due to the fact most of the orphans are treated badly by those evil nobles.

You always stay by Louis’ side knowing that he has some health problem especially when he is going through one of his episodes which worried both you and his elder brother.

One day, 3 of you are adopted by the Moriarty family and you are appointed as the newest maid. Even so, the maids and butlers in the manor isn’t treating you equally as they mock you just because you are from the underclass.

When the explosion occur, you are glad that you survived and with minimal injuries. Being a worry wart, you frantically find the brothers to make sure they are safe.

When you reunite with them, you cried tears of joy as they are safe and isn’t critically injured from the explosion.

When you saw the fresh burn scar on Louis’ cheek, your heart throb in pain for him but knowing he did it willingly as a proof of loyalty and recompense for Albert and his brother.

Years had pass, you along with the Moriarty brothers have grown and you can’t help but to develop some feelings towards the youngest Moriarty.

He became the ‘butler’ of the family as he is the one who will do the house chores from cleaning to cooking.

You often help him when he is making meals or desserts for everyone. You cherish these moments with him. Every second means a lot to you.

One day, you saw Louis is preparing some desserts for tea break and you decided to approach him and help him.

“Thank you for helping me.” He said with a small blush and a sweet smile. “You could start by mixing the ingredients that I had prepare.” He said with a soft tone and adoration to you.

When you are mixing the ingredients, Louis held your hands from behind and guided you the correct technique on mixing while explaining it to you.

You blushed lightly and well being a little childish you place some flour on his nose when you turn your body

Louis then place some on your cheek as a get back. Slowly, both of you just playing around rather than getting the dessert done.

He then embrace you and confessed his feeling towards you which you gladly and happily return to him. Louis then slowly close the gap and place a kiss on your lips to show his affections towards you.

He vow to protect, cherish and wants the best for you because your happiness meant everything to him.

Well people said that the first impression is always important as how you present and uphold yourself which will either make or break an opportunity.

You meet him on the street, when you were begging for money just to survive as you were abandoned by your parents.

He slowly approach you with a concerned look. “Hello, I am Albert James Moriarty. May I know what is your name?” He said in a soft tone so that he would not frighten you.

You then introduce yourself and he asked you what happened in which you told him about what you have endured. He eventually took you back to the Moriarty family as he couldn’t find the heart to leave you there.

Meeting the Moriarty family is not pleasant but at least you have a shelter, food and water which are essential to survive. The price? You have to become a maid for the Moriarty family despite Albert’s protests.

After a few days, he went to the orphanage as usual to help out the care takers as well as spending time with the orphans by reading books to them or listen to them talking about their day.

Being a maid is not easy but it is even more tougher on how the Moriarty household treated you. Having to endure (original) William’s punishment, the scolding of Lady Moriarty and the discrimination of some other maids and butlers of the household.

From then on you hated the classification system but then you are grateful that Albert would help you whenever he could and surprising both of you have a lot in common.

Slowly as time goes by, the Moriarty family have adopted 2 brothers. You knew how the they are treated just because of their status because you were one of the victims as well.

You are close to Albert and the two brothers as all of you share the same thought and view about this inequality world and all of you vow that one day you will change it no matter what it takes.

During the very night of the explosion, you escaped with them and you were taken in by Lord Rockwell.

Years later, you helped (current) William, Louis and Albert with their plan by eliminating those bad and evil nobles in order to achieve their goals in having an equal life for everyone no matter what status you are.

You know that there is no backing out after what you have done but you do not have regrets about it since because of Albert you are still able to live until now and thanks to the 2 brothers you are still alive.

“(Y/n), would you like to have some tea with me?” Albert said while giving you a smile in which took your breath away. You admit that you have fallen hard for him but you know that he deserves to be with someone of high status even though you know he will not judge people by status.

Eventually, tea breaks are always a thing at least once a week for the both of you to unwind, talk about your day and just have discussion about the current affair.

“That’s what I like about you.” Albert said suddenly which caught you off guard. He himself is also taken aback about the words that spill from his mouth.

“Ahhh... that is supposed to be my inner thoughts.. nevertheless (y/n) I like you, I like you ever since we get to know each other, you might not share the same feelings with me in which I understand. I—” You then cut him off by placing a kiss on him.

Wow, you are bold for once...

He overcome his shock and return the kiss.

When both of you separated, somehow that confidence that you just found slowly fades and a deep red blush paints your face and Albert’s chuckle isn’t helping at all.

“Why the sudden shyness, darling?” He said liking your reaction towards his tease. You just wanted to ✨ evaporate ✨ at this point

He laughed seeing how quiet you are and said “I’m just teasing, I love you so much. Thank you for being in my life.” and placed a kiss on your forehead.

[jacks-wylan]

It started to rain a day later.

Geralt's already bad mood started to increase even more, as he stomped down that trice damned mountain. His fingers trembled, and he knew very well that it was not because of the now terribly colder wind blowing, but he couldn't help but notice that the temperature was lower than the day before �� lower than that same morning.

He gritted his teeth, eyes roaming up to the gray sky. Winter was coming, and that felt like the only blessing that was falling upon him lately, because winters meant home and late nights with his brothers and the closest thing he could ever have as a break, to have some time off everything .

He felt a pang of worry when, as the day passed, the weather worsened. Not for Yennefer, no, because she could take care of herself, and just portal out of there – but that idiot that went down the mountain path alone, without waiting for him at the clearing as he should have done no matter how much he was offended... the thought of him in a dangerous territory, with an upcoming storm no less, is worrisome. He tried to not think of Jaskier, because the he was still angered – and the guilt was already creeping up his spine, gnawing at his insides – and deep down he was hoping that he, indeed, joined the dwarves in the end, and he was not at all alone – as he was, as it should have been from the start.

Caingorn and the stables where Roach was waiting for him is half a way down, when he had to find shelter for the night. He found an empty cave, built a fire, and meditated. He couldn't fall asleep. Not that he tried, but he knew that slumber would not come easily on him this time. He would not fall asleep peacefully, safe , as he did with Yennefer ever again.

The rain became a downpour by the time he reached the inn.

He was surprised the same when, once entered inside the inn, knowing that he could not go anywhere with that kind of weather – he could not permit that something bad would happen to Roach – he found every single still alive member of the dragon hunt there.

Even Borch. Even Jaskier. Even Yennefer .

She did not deign him of a glance, and Geralt did expect as much. Jaskier, instead, looked at him with a relieved expression, but... but still, he didn't come to him, didn't run towards him and started to ramble as always. He noticed Jaskier's belonging at his feet, belongings that – apart from his lute – should have been inside Roach's saddlebags, with Geralt's things.

He told himself thank fuck .

He did not feel so thankful, though.

The common room was crowded, but Geralt found a table in a corner regardless. He settled there, ordered food and ale, and ignored the conversations around him. Someone was saying that if the storm did not placate, it would be impossible to walk the roads. He heard Yennefer snort and say that if things would not get better, she would just leave them all there and portal away. Jaskier muttered a mean: “Of course you will, but why are you still here?”

It was Borch that reached out to him. He sat next to him, and after he gulped a mouthful of ale, Geralt just asked: “Your child?”

“Safer than us here.” was his response, “The skies are enraged.”

“Shouldn't you be with them?”

“Not now, no.” Borch shook his head, “But I will be, if the rain ever stops.”

Geralt wasn't in the mood to understand Borch's cryptic words, so he just kept eating and drinking. Then he went out, saw Roach, gave her enough clean water and fresh hay, made sure that there still was pellet for her to sleep on. She seemed content, but she also seemed like she was waiting for something – for someone – that wasn't there with them, sniffing at Geralt's hands but not finding the treats he never gave her.

Geralt patted her muzzle and turned back in. The rain still didn't show any sign of stopping, falling almost cruelly on the ground. Roads became torrents, trees bent under the force of wind.

The skies are enraged.

None of the patrons could go back to their lives, when the night came. So the innkeepers decided that until the storm ended, the rooms were available for all of them – Geralt did not talk to Jaskier, as they walked up the stairs to their shared room, because he was expecting the bard to break the silence, but at first he didn't.

The awkwardness fell upon them until they had to look into each other's eyes by the only bed in the room, when Jaskier finally, finally talked. “Left or right?”

Geralt sighed, leaning his swords against the wall. “Jaskier,” he said his name, but abruptly stopped, because he didn't really know what to say.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. This is a very shitty situation, isn't it? We are all caged here for who knows when, and funnily right after–” Jaskier's voice faltered, until it stopped. “Can you endure me for a little more? I won't get in the way. You can talk with the witch, sort out all your problems, and live happily ever after. If there might be a silver lining here, it has to be this.”

Silence fell on them again. Geralt raised the blankets and got under them: he was pretty sure that not even that night sleep would come to him, but he could at least try. The road to Kaer Morhen was long and tortuous, he needed to be well rested before taking that way.

There was an acrid, bitter scent lingering in the air. Geralt ignored it.

“You really have nothing to say to me?”

Lying on the bed, Geralt looked at him with a sigh, “Just sleep, Jaskier.”

The room got illuminated by a thunder, fallen not too far from the inn. Jaskier jolted, head shot back towards the window with a panicking jump. Geralt could not see his eyes, but he imagined them being wide open, like a deer caught by a lightning. It might not even be too far from reality.

“If only I could.” Jaskier murmured, lying too on the bed but giving him his back. That position made Geralt feel lonely, but it was a sentiment so absurd that he just shrugged it off and closed his eyes.

Outside, the storm did not end, but it got calmer when he got up the next morning.

It was still a downpour, and it still made the roads impassable, but Geralt could see, with some difficulty, a timid ray of sun peaking through the thick, gray clouds covering the sky. He did indeed sleep, for a bit, he felt as refreshed as he could ever be.

Glancing at Jaskier, Geralt saw him still sleeping, his face relaxed, messy hair covering his closed lids. There was a slightly frown between his eyebrows, but so soft that it was difficult even for him to notice under the brown locks of his fringe.

Geralt swiped them off with the lightest touch he could gather so not to wake him up, then turned around and left the room.

The common room was almost empty, if not for Borch, the two Zerrikanians, and the innkeepers. “Most of the patrons went back to their home the second the storm calmed. After all, their houses aren't so far away.” one of the innkeepers was muttering, “Didn't even pay for the rooms, those whoresons.”

Not even an hour later, the storm increased again, with more force, with more violence it hit against the walls and doors. The sky darkened, it was an ominous scene.

“This looks like a catastrophe.” the other innkeeper said, “If it keeps like this, the land will become a giant swamp, and nothing will grow up again. If it keeps like this, our rations will end, and we will all die.”

“Always the same, you shithead. Stop being so gloomy, it's just the second day!”

“Myths spoke of a similar catastrophe cast by an angered God. It lasted forty days and forty nights, to drown the evil on Earth.” Borch said, calmly. “Just myths, they were. Evil is still on Earth, after all.”

The skies are enraged.

Moments later, Yennefer walked down the stairs, followed by Jaskier. They were talking in hushed tones, so low that Geralt couldn't understand most of the spoken sentences, but for the look of it Jaskier did not seem happy with their argument. Yennefer, though, she looked smug, a cutting grin baring white teeth.

Geralt felt something , something ugly and slimy kneading his mouth at their camaraderie. He felt left apart, abandoned, ignored. It was a feeling he should be used to – it was a feeling he always felt with Yennefer, it was a feeling he always made Jaskier feel – but somehow he felt the injustice of it burning on his cheeks, like embarrassment, if more humiliating.

He hated it, this weakness.

“I'm sorry, Yen.” he then said, because what else he has to do? Beg forgiveness, drop into his knees in front of her and say that what he did was wrong, but he just did it to save her. Not to see her die right after saving Jaskier's life, not to see her die after she mended his mistake which would have killed Jaskier, drowning him in his own blood that Geralt helped spill. “I had no right to do what I did, but I don't... I can't regret it.”

“Well, well.” Yennefer snorted. She sat gracefully on a chair, and looked up at him with an elegant black eyebrow arched. “You are apologizing. For someone else it might be enough, but not for me, Witcher.”

Geralt gritted his teeth. “Would anything be even enough?”

“I am kind of disillusioned, to be honest, now that I know the truth. Things I could not comprehend before are now clear, and bitter. I do not know what love is supposed to be, of course,” she pursued her red lips, then looked around until her violet eyes stopped on Jaskier – Jaskier that was standing still in front of a window, watching the hell outside. His back was tense, his hands were trembling so slightly. He was close enough to be hearing everything Yennefer and he were talking about. Strangely, Geralt felt guilty. “But I know that ours wasn't love yet. Not a love that matters.”

“Could be, one day.”

“Sure.” Yennefer sneered, “But am I willing to wait? With the risk that once we break the Djinn's spell, all will be lost? I am not an hopeless puppy like your bard,” at that, Jaskier flinched, “I will not wiggle my tail at every scrap of attention you'd deign to give, to be then discarded when you will get enough of it.”

“Like you've done all this time with me?” Geralt growled.

“Like you've done all this time with the bard.” Yennefer replied, unapologetic.

They stared at each other for long moments, Geralt trying so hard not to turn and look at Jaskier again. He didn't want to acknowledge that those words were true and how much effects they had on him. “Why do you care? You can't even stand Jaskier, damn it!”

A thunder fell just outside the window Jaskier was leaning on. He shouted, scrambling away from the shaking – cracking – glass, and it was not long before another thunder fell, and the window shuttered.

Geralt fumbled up from his table, but Jaskier didn't get hurt, just soaked in the rain gusted in as he fell on the floor in fear of it. He whimpered, and brought a hand against his chest. In the chaos surrounding them, Geralt could clearly hear his heart beating like a war drum, louder than any noise, more deafening than the storm outside.

Yennefer went and, with a flick of her fingers, the window returned whole again.

“Fucking hell.” Jaskier creaked, “What the fuck is happening?”

Geralt looked out, and the gray of the storm became black, filled with blue and white, blinding stripes that made the land shake. Trembling like Jaskier's fingers tightened around a chunk of his own red doublet.

The skies are enraged.

And they were bringing down on Earth all of their anger.

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read the rest on ao3!

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Four

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 3k author note ::  you should also check out my ao3 and wattpad my username is LEVIATTACKS on both platforms. ao3 usually gets to see my updates first, feel free to leave any comments you have i appreciate all feedback ^___^ → next part is here!!

"Refer to me with that name once more and I'll see to it that your neck is snapped in two. Fucking Brat." His voice curls into a low hiss.

He rises from the bed making you jolt, if he's moving towards his dagger everything will be over in a matter of seconds. The tension between the two of you is foggy and uncertain.

Your line of vision is cloudy, bleary tears seize it. You should have tried harder whilst researching, found a way to make Lev stay, it hits you like a sack of bricks - you didn't try hard enough, was that the issue, was that the mistake you made this time? Mind full of harsh expletives you continue to curse yourself. Of course he left, of course he fucking did. Your life was one large cyclical narrative of earning the love of others and ultimately losing it along the way some how.

The world conditioned you to become independent, to not rely on others for affection, earn what you must on your own. Making your own way through life is all you know yet here you are. On the verge of tears because this damn fool won't remember you. Happiness is a privilege.

Staring into the distance you don't see the way your husband's glare thins out, neither do you notice how he leans forward invading your personal space.

"Care to explain how we got into this situation?" Breath fanning across your face exactly the same way it had months ago you gulp and realise he's staring at your lacy nightgown in sheer distaste. Oh no, He's got the wrong idea completely.

You jerk your head up to explain and only then is the close proximity between the two of you evident, you nearly knock your head against his as if you're inebriated. "No, no. We've never done that. I promise we haven't. I wouldn't take advantage of you." You're sputtering and are all over the place trying to hold some sort of ground in this conversation.

"I see that you saw no issue with taking advantage of me in other ways. You scheming money hungry roach."

You want to clear your name and tell him you really haven't touched any of his money. None of it at all to the point it's shameful to admit, especially considering the fact that everyone else sees you as Duchess Ackerman.

"I have not spent any of your money I swe-".

A deafening bang resounds through the room - in his fit of rage he kicks one of the solid oak drawers at the side of your bed to the floor.

A squeaky gasp falls out of your mouth and you flinch away as you cover your chest defensively. Your arms aren't the best armour but they work for now. If he's to stab you your worst fear is him piercing through your heart. What you fear most is him ripping the vital organ out of the confines of your chest. If he laughs hysterically and watches it bleed out you'll never forgive him. Your worries and doubts are internally eating away at you as you witness the darkness seeping into the corners of his vision.

It's quiet and dark and with him as well as a heavy silence looming over you, the pressure on your shoulders is quite literally immense.

He takes a hold of your chin and obnoxiously squishes your rosy cheeks together, dark tundra eyes never falter from yours, that is until they abruptly sink south and he catches drift of the way your night gown has ridden up. Thighs on full display you want to pull the edges of the material down but are too afraid to move under his deathly stare.

"Do you know how long I was stuck inside of my own body? Having to act like a fool on the daily."

"What?" You shakily reply through parted lips.

He was able to see everything he did under the spell? This changes the dynamic significantly. Cheeks flaring up in embarrassment you recall how you ate up all the sweet nothings he whispered into your ears, the scarlet blush creeps to the back of your ears when you think back to how you fervently kissed him goodbye whenever he was sent to venture outside the walls. The sanguine tint only intensifies when you think about the night where you accidentally let his bare hands venture a little too far.

"Naive little thing," he grunts. "You will never be my wife." He scowls sniffing at you in pure repulsion.

Whiskey, cigarette fumes and strong sweat infused cologne revoltingly is what you're reminded of when you hear those words leave his mouth. The stench isn't present but nevertheless you feel your throat constrict, never expecting to see any sort of parallel form between Levi and that man. The one time you stood your ground against Father it led to you being dragged away from the palace grounds, beat until you were unresponsive and left for dead. He left you there with the intention of extermination, his final words as he bid you goodbye that night had been - "You will never be my daughter."

You have no words left to offer, you're tongue tied. Expressionless whilst he gauges your reaction, the both of you don't register how Levi's grip on your cheeks loosens, that is until the look in his hooded eyes changes. They're inky now smoldering with resentment, he lets go of the hold he has on your face completely.

The separation between your face and his palm is stony.

All you want at that moment is for Lev to come back and wake you up from all of this. You've had enough of this sick and twisted nightmare where he doesn't look at you the way he normally does. The way he manhandles you irks you and lights a dangerous fire in your stomach.

Blinking your tears away you finally speak after your long silence "I know that My Lord." taking what may be one of your final breaths you announce the unthinkable "Feel free to finish what you were unable to last time."

"No begging?" he chastises you pulling you by the back of your ear.

"Would you spare me if I did?" The close ended question you respond with leaves him stiff.

Snatching your forearm you note that even when he's not under the constraint of the spell physical touch is consistently one of his ways of getting a point across. He jerks your tired form forward. "Who do you work for?"

Blood running cold you know he won't kill you now. He thinks you've come here with a purpose, a motive, a reason. Hell, all you did was ask to be loved, to experience something before the candle which was your life burnt out.

"No one. You said you were conscious in your mind whilst it all happened, correct?"

He nods albeit begrudgingly.

"Then you must have seen how I tried."

His right eyebrow cocks upwards ever so slightly. "Tried?"

Now it's your turn to be frustrated. "Tried to keep my distance, tried to ignore your advances, tried to refuse your gifts, tried to maintain a level of respect so the both of us would have some dignity remaining if you were to return some day. When I realised you would not stop with your persistence I accepted." You fumed - the fretful irritation you feel only increases by the second.

"Cut the crap." He snarls at you.

You want to snarl back with just as much impatience but you bite your tongue.

Maybe it's because it's late at night, maybe it's because you're fatigued or maybe it's because you already felt feverish and emotional - Honestly, any other reason apart from your husband turning his back on you and announcing you're a mongrel. Feeling light headed you clutch at your scalp harshly trying to control yourself, even Levi's firm hand which until recently held your left arm recoils away.

Falling to your knees you feel the way the floor grates against your bare legs. Your urge to pass out is nearly met but then you hear him.

"Honey???" The concern in his voice which had made you fall in love with him now repulses you.

Fists balling at your knees you silently sob, pitifully shaking your head.

This can't be your reality.

It can't be.

You won't let it be.

That night you find out nightmares can happen in real life.

Levi Ackerman being a prime example.

After the bitter encounter you leave the room and order Lev to not come after you, you need your own space and as much as you want him to return to his sweet, loving self it's pathetic to seek any comfort in him. That tyrant is bound to make another appearance soon enough and mock you for falling into his trap again, but really can you blame the man? Is this his fault or your own?

Whoever is at fault there will still come a time where the Levi you love won't come back and call you his Love. You'll have to get used to that bleak desolate reality. Assuming he doesn't kill you before you have to.

Day has now broken and the brisk morning air bites at you, scantily clad in your nightgown, It's abnormal, you think to yourself. The position you're in is one you imagined countless times but you never really thought you'd end up this way. You're about to drift off to sleep right there in the middle of the Estate's field of hydrangeas, too tired to actually care anymore when you hear a rustle from one of the surrounding bushes.

"Duchess?" Your head turns when you hear Mikasa's soft voice emerge from the hedges, she steps through them and you both stare at each other. Mouth open, gaping in shock she takes in your appearance. You can only imagine how you look right now. Dark eye bags, you aren't wearing your usual noble attire not to mention Levi has accidentally left a bruise on one of your arms. It's faint because it is accidental (you hope) it does not go unnoticed by Mikasa.

Her gaze hardens and she approaches your disheveled form kneeling in front of you.

"What happened?" She whispers, the panic is evident in her voice and you awkwardly chuckle in response.

"I had a horrible nightmare. That's all, honest."

"And it's Y/N need I remind you again?" Mikasa is big on respect and sure, it is cute but you want to remind her it really is okay to call you by your first name. After all you would consider her a friend, you hope she sees you the same way.

Giving you a look of disbelief she takes the hint that you don't want to talk about it but much to your delight she does take the advice regarding your name. She sounds hesitant but that's how she usually is, she'll get used to it in no time at all.

"Well...Y/N, Breakfast has been prepared." You can see the way she eyes your unkempt hair and shivering form. "Would you like to eat with me and Sasha?" this is her way of comforting you.

Your lips quirk up into a smile for the first time in a while.

"I would love that."

Twenty minutes and a change of clothes later you've all relocated to your tea room, Sasha doesn't ask questions about your hair or odd choice of clothing earlier this morning. The shadows Levi's fingers left on your arm are now carefully hidden by the sleeves of your baby blue dress. "Oh! Viscount Kirstein me and Y/N saw him yesterday. He's just like the rumours." Sasha exclaims as she stuffs her face with a croissant.

Mikasa takes a short sip from her tea cup. "And the rumours would be?"

You pick a cinnamon roll from the center of the table."Undeniably handsome. I mean he's not my type though."

Sasha looks momentarily confused. "He was drop dead gorgeous what do you mean?"

You laugh a bit at the disbelief on her face, Mikasa chooses to not intervene - she's obviously yet to come to her own conclusions about him.

"Yeah but you said it yourself he fucks anything in a skirt." Sasha, is wide eyed at first and chokes on part of her buttered croissant, you have never been so vulgar before. You guess the argument has left you more likely to voice your reckless thoughts. Snorting you try to keep your laugh in, the ghost of a smile makes its way to Mikasa's face and eventually she too dissolves into a puddle of laughter. The three of you laughing together genuinely eases the recent burden on your soul.

Just as you're about to crack another joke the door to your tea room rumbles.

BANG!  You seem to always be cut off when you're here because Eren Jaeger has burst inside perhaps for the seventh time this month. It's the same routine as usual, he's panting and catching his breathe before he speaks. You're in no mood to hear what he has to say.

"If the Duke has sent you please leave."

Mikasa gives him a "You better not ask any questions and take the damn hint" kind of look but bless Eren for he is completely and utterly clueless.

"It's urgent."

"Still rejecting." You hotly reply.

Mikasa icily interjects "Eren, would you stop being so bothersome?"

He looks between you and Mikasa helplessly. "The Duke says he expects your refusal but I can't return empty handed, I'll be given a punishment and it'll be worse than being made to clean the stables." He gives you a pleading look and he's so much younger than you, it makes you feel like he's your responsibility. Eren has a charming way of making himself feel like everyone else's annoying younger brother. You accept that he can't suffer because of your selfish denial.

Sighing deeply you take a final bite of your roll, if you're going to die you may as well do so on a full stomach. Before you depart you awkwardly get to your feet dusting your dress to buy some time as you bid Mikasa and Sasha goodbye.

You're now following Eren through the halls of the estate. Deep down inside, you know you aren't fearful. He won't kill you, not yet at least, he thinks you're a useful source of information relating to his external enemies, he would be stupid to overlook that detail. You'll exploit it for now, your key is survival, it always has and always will be that way.

Bumping into Eren's back you apologize for being absent minded, you swear the walk to Levi's office has always been much longer. He spares you a worried glance and looks as if he's about to offer you words of support but he stops himself before he opens the heavy door to Duke Ackerman's office. Perhaps he doesn't find it appropriate. Good, you think to yourself. You don't wish to hear motivation from anyone right now, it's nothing personal, it's that nothing can possibly be of motivation right now.

The door opens ever so slowly, your brain races making everything move at a sedated pace. Then you find yourself jolting upright in surprise. You soon realise expecting Levi to be the only person there was naive on your part. Eyes tensely land on the blonde in one of the cushioned caramel chairs. It's the Commander of the Empire's entire battalion — Erwin Smith.

Levi has ratted you out for sure, you spare a glance towards him and see the way he's trying to hide his feelings of amusement. You want to lunge over his desk and wipe that smug smirk off his face. The playful lilt in his usual unreadable expression is driving you mad. Next to Erwin is respected and high ranking Squad Leader Hange Zoe, you're quite well accustomed with them you've exchanged your fair share of words together and Hange has never failed to bring a smile to your face. The amusing air around them lights up any room they're in... Apart from this one that is.

Eren closes the door behind you and you're silent not really knowing what to do.

"Take a seat my beloved." Levi drawls. This isn't Lev you know that much, he's always enthusiastically jumping to his feet when he greets you.

Awkwardly sitting in the chair next to your husband you shake Hange's hand first then move to shake Erwin's. His warm palms envelope yours and he places a hand on your left shoulder. It's not at all similar to the way Levi held you earlier in the morning, the feeling is genuine. He has no ill intentions, all he seems to want to do is open a conversation.

"Y/N, we may not have much time but." He stops, unsure if it's for dramatics but you still intently listen.

The sea that is his blue eyes draws you in, you've only ever seen him from afar. If honesty and gentleness were a person it would be him no doubt about it.

He pats your shoulder and you snap out of your day dream. "Y/N. Thank you for your sacrifice and commitment to this Empire." His warm yet serious smile which follows simply confuses you, in fact this entire situation is doing that.

Jaw slacking you're dazed and bewildered, your thoughts are diverting in all sorts of direction now.

Whatever does he mean by sacrifice?

[kaepop-trash]

the miscellaneous are back! please ever since you made doyoung an absolute no in of snakes and lions i've been a mess. i need more of him anything but maybe doyoung and oc getting together or breaking up? i know i shouldn't but i feel so sad for him.

The Miscellaneous never left! My inbox is always open for them. Send any whenever you want, if you’re curious about something about the character. I can’t promise to always be as quick to reply as I was with this, I just happened to have some time and and the moment I read your ask the idea came to me. But irrespective, I will reply to all asks.

I did both getting together and breaking up. I was hoping this both justifies you feeling bad for him but also explains why it was one of the doomed ones. Kim Doyoung truly my king of doomed romances (haha) In case you want a genuinely well-written story that has a lot of similar elements but has Doyoung as the main lead, you should go read @notnctu‘s hogwarts au Push&Pull. It was incredible and I’m still not over it. For now, here’s what you wanted.

--

"No." (Y/N) furrowed her brows.

"No?" Doyoung raised his.

"No." She repeated herself.

Doyoung frowned, caught off-guard by her response. He chewed on the flesh inside his mouth till it was swollen.

He took a struggling breath, trying to keep his voice patient. "I'm asking you out on a date, (Y/N). After we've been sleeping together for three months. And you're saying no?" 

"Precisely." She didn't seem phased.

"Why?" His brows furrowed further, a look only Kim Doyoung could pull off.

"Because." She blinked twice, fluttering her gaze away from his intense stare, "You're clearly infatuated with that Gryffindor girl. You have been since 7th year. Sex is fine. But I'm not going to be anybody's emotional substitute." She stared at the grains of the wooden table before looking out the window, the library overlooking the grounds.

"You aren't a substitute. I used to like Jisoo." He sat down on the chair beside her.

She scoffed, turning to him. "And now, what? You like me? Why because I let you fuck me when she won't?" She scoffed again, a lump forming in her throat despite herself.

"No." He put his hand on her cheek, turning her to face him. "Because we're the same, you and I. Because I thought that you understood that I was falling for you despite me having to say it. Because despite myself, I found myself coming back to you over and over." He blinked.

A bitter smile formed on her lips, "I don't want to be someone a person likes despite their better judgement."

Doyoung groaned, "You're making this so much harder than it needs to be." He frowned again.

"Good." She interjected. "I didn't ask for this." She groaned herself when her vision blurred from tears she tried to blink away.

She hated him. 

She hated him for kissing her that one night three months ago in the library. She hated him for leaving without a word and then coming back the next day for more. She hated him for saying all the right things in her ears while he was deep inside her. But most of all she hated herself for allowing herself to grow feelings for him while knowing better.

"Please." His voice was a soft plea, it made her heart flutter. "Just try it. Go out with me once." He took her cold hands in his clammy ones, the heat spreading through her, "If at any point I do anything to hurt you then put some dreadful potion in a glass and give it to me. Or hex me. But don't just push this away without giving it a try." 

She knew this would be wrong. She knew she should say no. But against her better judgement, she kissed him instead.

_

Doyoung knew that out of all the way to deal with fights, walking away wasn't the best. But he also knew himself, he knew it was better than saying things he did not mean in a moment's anger.

He drew in an irritated breath, frustrated with everything. Everything was impossibly hard with (Y/N). They both felt with equal ferocity but stayed silent about most things. It was one of the similarities they had that had turned into a vice over the years; a long relationship of bitter things left unsaid till it was spat in a fit of rage. 

He looked over the viaduct at the gaping precipice it stood over. Caught off-guard by the sound of shuffling footsteps as they came and stood beside him. He wasn't sure how he missed it.

"Oh hey it is you! I was wondering if I was seeing correctly." A voice he knew too well made him look away from the edge to upturned eyes.

He hadn't seen her in a while, the castle was large enough for that to happen sometimes, but age only made Jisoo more beautiful. He blushed when he realised he was staring at her.

"I haven't seen you ever since I dropped potions for divination. I used to think the castle wasn't that big, but I guess not huh?" She bumped her shoulder with his as she placed her elbows on the balustrade, looking down at where he was looking before. "What are we looking at?" She questioned, eyes focusing on searching whatever he was looking at.

"Nothing." He spoke too soon, his voice too gruff.

She looked up at him, lips parted and eyes wide. Then something seemed to click inside, "Oh. I interrupted some deep thought, didn't I?" She winced.

"No!" He defended, again too quick. He cleared his throat, looking away and trying to level his voice, "Nothing too deep." He dismissed.

She scoffed, “You’re always thinking something deep. You’re the smart one.” Her words stirred something inside Doyoung. 

He cursed himself.

"You look good, Doyoung." Her words made his neck snap to face her. She bit her lip, fluttering her gaze away from his. He noted the pink tint of her cheeks, eyes furrowing in confusion.

What was going on?

Jisoo took a step back from the edge, her form lingering as she turned to him, "It was nice to see you again Doyoung. Really nice. You've really grown into yourself." Her eyes brushed against his shoulders and it was his turn to blush.

"Thank you." The words were spat out, distracted. She gave him one last breathtaking smile before turning and walking into the fog that had settled on the grounds.

_

Doyoung was sure he had forgotten to breathe when he heard his door open. (Y/N) stood at the door, first with a look of devastation in her eyes and then nothing. Her hand gripped the handle so tight that it creaked under the assault.

"(Y/N), baby." He pushed Jisoo off his lap with a swift motion. Getting out of his bed and following her while she walked out of his rooms and to the stairs. Not caring that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"(Y/N)!" He cried out, grabbing her arm desperately. A pain shot through the arm he used to grab her, noticing her wand in the other hand.

“Touch me again and I will honour your promise and hex you. Go back to your room, Doyoung. You are shirtless and have an erection. Don’t embarrass yourself and more importantly, do not embarrass me.” Her eyes welled up but her voice was hollow.

Panic clawed up Doyoung’s throat till it burned worse than his arm, “Darling, please.” He begged, grabbing her shoulder. He flew back from another unspoken spell, hitting the wall beside his door with a loud thud and a vicious crack in his arm. He sat helplessly and heard the echoes of her rushing down the stairs of the tower.

When he walked back into the room, Jisoo was sitting at the edge of his bed. Her shirt still had the buttons of the top half open, her chest exposed.

“You’re hurt.” She looked at her arm, twisted at an excruciating angle.

“Leave.” His voice was frigid.

She ignored his words, “Let me look at your arm.” She got up.

“Get out, Jisoo.” He repeated with more anger. Her steps faltered.

She looked up at him, her eyes fighting between guilt from what happened and the hurt his voice made her feel, “She’s gone, Doyoung.” She felt small as the words left her, “I’m still here.” She took a few steps closer.

“Exactly.” He spat the word at her, “I was wrong. I made a mistake. Now she’s gone.” There was a passing pain in his eyes, one that turned to bitter ice when they met hers, “And you’re still here.” While he felt utterly ashamed at the moment, it was easier to lash out on the person in front of him.

“Doyoung.” Her voice quivered as tears fell from her eyes, “Please.” She looked to the floor.

“You aren’t her, Jisoo. You’re just a beautiful face I was infatuated with my entire childhood. (Y/N) is my other half, you can’t be that.” He turned away from her, searching for his shirt on the floor.

“Then why?” She whispered, “Why did you sleep with me? Why did you do it thrice?” Her voice gained in volume and hatred. Doyoung was glad he wasn’t in front of her when the words made him wince.

He looked up at her and shrugged, “I told you. I wanted to know how it would feel to have what I wanted for so many years. It wasn’t that great.” He tried to keep his eyes bored.

She stared at him in disbelief before biting down her jaw. She looked away and buttoned her shirt back up, “Then I guess you just saved two people from wasting their time on a vile person like you.” She looked up when she was done. He suppressed the effect of the sting her words caused again, giving her nothing in his eyes. She huffed one last time, picking up what she had left of her dignity and left with the head held high.

Doyoung slowly sat down on his bed, putting his head on the palm of one hand, while his broken arm stayed limp beside him. Taking a shaky breath, he let the pain that seared from the fractured bone feel like a well-deserved punishment..

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 148: The Unbreakable Vow

The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was stuffy but breathable to just the eight of them, bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner, James crashing right into the instrument and cutting off the noise. A haze of pipe smoke hung over Remus's head and he coughed deeply as he got to his feet.

Several silver platters of food crashed to the floor around all of them and Sirius swooped in for the hors d'oeuvres, grabbing the majority of them and jogging over to Moony and offering him a selection before running around to the others, stuffing himself silly along the way.

Peter and Regulus were each given little cucumber sandwiches and a passive smile as he skipped off. They couldn't help laughing at him same as the others, but Regulus' eyes caught on Slughorn's bag and he went over to it curiously, beginning to dig through the contents like he'd wanted to do countless times instead of mingling with his boring guests.

His wand was in here, along with a pile of coins and a few vials of things he hadn't a hope to recognize but was sure they were of some value, probably to be traded to or from some important person here.

He picked one up and tipped it in the light, but Peter frowned in concern and cautioned, "let's not open those please? I wouldn't put it past Slughorn to be carrying around something nasty to show off."

"Fair enough," Regulus agreed, putting it gently back. His mind flickered back to their teacher being on the run and clearly still weary of something being done to him, and his stomach swirled unpleasantly for that possibly being his future. He still wondered very often how he'd died, his practical magic not being up to snuff against Death Eater's and their spells, and he wouldn't have a clue how to counter act anything else of danger like a poison, he only knew a bezoar to fix that. He watched Peter for a few moments listening to the book and thought about him and his brother for several moments before asking, "would you teach me how to be an animagus?"

Peter watched him for a long time with an unfamiliar look on his face, and Regulus hastily explained, "I remember you can't pick the animal and it's really difficult, but I'll try really hard at it, I promise! It couldn't hurt right? Sounds really clever and useful, I know it's come in handy with you lot during this, like back in the shop." Peter had whispered the explanation of how he'd gotten out of his problem after the fact, and the idea had been hovering ever since. There was also Lupin, which still fascinated him on multiple levels, he'd only ever read studies mum and dad had given on how to kill, not help.

"Nobody's ever asked me to teach them something before," Peter finally answered in a shy sort of voice. "James and Sirius helped me out a lot, and there's all kinds of steps involved you can't even get a hold of until we get out of this..." Regulus just kept watching him hopefully, he wasn't even biting his cheek. He wasn't thinking about this, he really wanted it. "It's also illegal," he firmly reminded, "we'd get into all sorts of trouble if anyone found out. You don't want to wait until you're of age?"

"No. I know the consequences," Regulus promised. He still held his breath until Peter finally smiled and said yes. He couldn't help but bounce on the spot in delight, finally something good to look forward to when they got out of this! He thanked him so profusely Peter when the brightest red in surprise, and he wondered for a moment if anyone had shown him such gratitude before either.

"Since when is Sirius Black in a good mood to be at one of Slughorn's parties?" Alice asked no one in particular as she savored a stuffed mushroom. Her and Frank had seen him at exactly two, and both had been memorable disasters for the chaotic Marauders.

"Alcohol," Remus told her as he watched his progress fondly. "I give it before anyone even finds the book he'll be in Slughorn's private stores."

Since the party was semi ruined by their host, and all guests still mysteriously being absent, the others began lounging on couches and settling on the floor like they were still looking for a brief respite in sleep.

Remus' skin prickled with unease at the idea, he popped the last of a tartare into his mouth and followed after him. His guess had been absolutely right, Sirius had slipped into Slughorn's private storage room and now had bottles of alcohol on him a plenty. Wine racks, differently designed bottles of brandy, even a few exotic teas lined the shelves in the wide open space. A tempered glass door showed his shadow, and Sirius had his bum wagging in excitement.

"Look at some of this stuff Moony!" He hadn't even turned around yet. "Man's always good use for it! Want to pop a bottle of this, it's Rosmerta's best oak-matured mead!" It still had a gift tag attached to it and everything. He turned around now, sloshing it suggestively and eyeing the still open door meaningfully.

The desire that nearly drowned him was an easy nod of agreement. The detail he and Sirius would be plenty drunk and distracted while the others would be asleep soon enough and the book would keep going before Sirius realized his laps was surely inconsequential.

James slipped in before Remus could slam the door on his nose. "Perfect!" He yelped in delight upon also seeing Sirius' prize. He snatched it out of his hand and took off laughing, Sirius yelping in protest and chasing after. Remus felt his heart climb up his throat for a completely different reason now at the horrible prospects this was turning into, he did not need a Padfoot with an even more loose tongue than usual around this lot!

They were wrestling over it in front of a table of several goblets full of mead. Remus only just had time to hope they might break it and settle for the lesser ones as the bottle thunked dangerously against the floor when Sirius pinned James, but there wasn't even a crack on it as Padfoot got it out of his hands and swooped to his feet in victory to be the one to pop the cork.

"You two are a menace," Frank told them as he reached over to sip the non-alcoholic ones, even summoning the book to him. He still had a slight headache from the last time he'd indulged, and if they were going to be awake, he might as well get on with it. Alice hung next to his arm and watched the book with him, frowning at the horrible prospects of Ron and Hermione's friendship being ruined because of love gone wrong. She kept squeezing Frank's hand and didn't even watch the boy's antics, neither noticed Lily leave their side.

Potter still looked a bit on edge as he watched his friends, and she was starting to feel a little guilty for her cowardice before. She may as well have a little fun and maybe, hopefully give Alice's advice a go and hope a third party would ease their tension.

Frank's comment was thoroughly ignored as Sirius grabbed a glass and tossed the unwanted liquid away before greedily being refilled. Remus swooped in with a challenging smirk and managed to delicately take it without spilling a drop.

Sirius sighed but gracefully accepted the defeat, repeating the process on another glass and creating a puddle on the floor, but Remus hesitated taking a drink, determined to remain as clear headed as he needed to be to keep an eye on him. James even snatched that one away, and Sirius slammed the bottle down so that he could throw his hands in the air in mutiny. "What have I done to deserve this cruelty?"

"Just your natural charm Padfoot," James grinned as he made to take a sip-

Evans snatched it away. He was so stunned he stood there with that familiar look of awe for several seconds, it even started to linger longer than usual as she actually smiled at him. There was no mistaking the teasing flirt in her voice. "Ladies first, yes?"

He nodded like a broken seesaw and watched with his heart thudding in his chest as she drank.

Sirius didn't notice, he'd turned back to pick the bottle up and press it to his lips, but froze with the liquid still in the neck of the heavy glass when some instinctive feeling ghosted up his spine as James went rigged in shock.

Remus saw the flash of red hair falling to the floor, his own glass joining the journey as his hand went numb in surprise. The drink sizzled at his feet.

There was no warning. Just a moment. A beat pulsing through the air where every one of them felt something go terribly wrong as they'd all let their guard down.

"Lily!" Frank and Alice shot to their feet long after the damage was done but before the tinkling sound of broken glass registered as the words vanished. James was already on her, trying to hold her steady as he shouted for Madam Pomfrey while she convulsed, her skin was turning blue.

He threw her bag away from her, scattering the contents in all directions as he tried to turn her on her side. None of his healing spells would work on something of this magnitude, he knew even before he tried to get his wand out-

A black streak flew across the room, his foot slid almost gracefully in the mess like an ice skater and he didn't even hear the crunch of glass under him as Regulus' hand shoved the tiny, shriveled brown stone down her throat.

There was a shudder from all eight of them. She gasped, and then went very still.

Regulus looked at each of them as he begged, "that was supposed to work, right? It was a, a bezoar, those are supposed to-"

His voice broke, but Lily kept breathing.

Alice and Frank took charge then, she coming over and gently taking Regulus' hand, promising him he'd done well while Frank called for anyone, "grab Lily's stuff! The bezoar stopped the poison, but she could have other damage going on inside before that kicked in!" He started gently pulling out a bit of her hair as he spoke, as well as ripping the sleeve off his shirt to swab in her mouth. Alice was the one to do that too, passing him whatever he asked while still flashing Regulus proud little smiles as she kept firmly in her mind all their late study practices, Madam Pince kicking her and her boyfriend out while calling for Filch they were up so late, only for them to sneak into the next empty classroom just to make sure she got that answer right. Whoever would have guessed her early Auror training would be used like this.

James finally snapped to attention when he saw this, flying to his feet and smacking into the door, proceeding to pull on it so hard Sirius was surprised not to see the wall shaking as he kept calling to the Matron. Sirius ran over and grabbed him, holding patiently as he remained, "she's not here mate."

"We're at school!" The denial was already leaving him though, James had finally reached his limit. For just a moment it had all faded away except a dream becoming reality to him, Slughorn's parties that he'd only ever attended for her company, those beautiful green eyes shining only on him. "This, this shouldn't be happening!" This wasn't like the Tournament or the Chamber, something other in their life here. This hadn't even happened to Harry, what was Slughorn playing at?!

"I know mate, I know," Sirius hugged him and didn't let go as James started shaking as bad as Lily just had.

They watched in a silent vigil as Frank used up practically all of Lily's stores, none of them really following as the potion began changing colors, but he finally seemed satisfied and tipped a frothy amber liquid into her mouth disturbingly like what she'd just drank. The antidote seemed to level her out the rest of the way, they watched as her rigid body began to relax and as she slumped in true slumber.

Frank picked her up and deposited her on the couch, before closing his eyes and whispering a silent apology. Pomfrey would probably lose her license for doing this, but he had to know if it worked. He drew his wand and tapped her, saying, "Innervate."

She gasped a fistful of air and startled awake almost kicking him in the face, her hand flying up to her throat and nearly falling back off the couch she started coughing so hard.

Alice grabbed her and helped her to sit up while Frank began whispering ardent apologies. "Stop that," his girlfriend scolded. "She can go back to sleep now, you had to check."

Lily was not going back to sleep. Her hand was still over her chest like she'd received an electric shock and there was a silent scream on her lips that had been trapped in her for too long she still couldn't get out as her body betrayed her with every hacking breath.

"You're alright honey, you can breathe," Alice kept rubbing her back and was remarkably using a calm, chatty sort of voice like she saw this every day, never mind she was internally screaming for Lily.

Regulus appeared back at her elbow with a glass of water and said with a completely straight face, "I checked it first."

The Marauders laughed. Frank fought the urge to knock all their heads together as the four of them breathed again for the first time as well. Alice took the glass from him when Lily didn't. Remus banished the mess with a still white face, and then turned with a cruel look in place. With a crack, the perpetrating bottle also went into the magical void of no return.

Peter came up and placed his hand where it had been though with a look of deep contemplation as he whispered, "what happened?"

Nobody answered. All eyes turned back to the book before swimming around every corner of the room, as if to double check no dead bodies from that party would spontaneously appear in here next.

Evans finally cleared her throat, she sounded surprisingly steady for being almost dead a few moments ago. Alice still had her arm around her, Evans was now holding the full glass with one hand but dropped Alice's on her shoulder and clasped Frank's for several moments before saying, "thank you, all of you. Best get on though, I don't want to linger in here." She'd finally stopped shaking, but there was a haunted look in her eyes that may never quite leave again.

The amount of times they'd all almost died left them all with the same ever growing shadow.

"Right, yeah," Longbottom agreed at once. He summoned the book and sat on the edge of the arm rest of the couch, but he was clearly reading out of obligation as he kept checking everything out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the ball to drop as Harry invited Luna to this very party.

James watched her like he still couldn't believe what he was seeing, the sense of surrealness still flooding him as he sank to the floor. He couldn't explain to Sirius' very concerned look as he sat next to him. Remus and Peter walked over and sat down quietly as well. Regulus began pacing the length of the room and biting on his cheek.

The Marauders hated potions. Peter was the only one remotely good at it, and he was no star like Evans and Snape. Slughorn wasn't a bad teacher, but he did play favorites. So long as they didn't explode too many cauldrons in a row, he generally left them alone at the back of the class to ignore what was happening but the bare minimum. James had been able to do nothing to help, the path hadn't even occurred to him. There was no spell he could have done for this.

Why was it hitting him so hard? Their school was supposed to be safe, but students got injured here all the time, it was magic and teenage kids, accidents happened. James knew that, he'd been a part of it; and he'd watched Snape and his Death Eater kind do some horrific things to students.

This wasn't an accident, nor a prank. It didn't feel remotely like a coincidence, Slughorn had just been too involved with Harry this year, and Draco was supposed to be here plotting something. Were they working together, or was Slughorn the victim all along? What was Snape's part in all this, he certainly seemed dissatisfied with something as Harry followed his DADA teacher and rival from the party, and nothing apparently happened except confirmation of what they already knew.

An Unbreakable Vow had been made, but whose life would be the cost?

[paganvamp]

Saving Grace: Prologue

1,000 years ago, a witch with powerful psychic abilities had a premonition that the family next door would commit an act so unholy, it would breed a race of monsters. And though she considers the family’s children to be close friends, she cannot risk the balance of nature. But just as Esther heard of the Immortality Spell, there are whispers of another... a spell which may leave a vital chink in the armor Esther is creating for her children.

But magic has a mind of its own, and Maja’s curse is not what she intended.

In present day Mystic Fall, Virginia, Grace Sinclair wakes one morning sure that her friend Elena Gilbert is returning to school after a four month absence following the death of her parents... only, Grace is apparently the only person aware of such a tragedy. Until that night, that is, when the Gilbert car nosedives off the Wickery Bridge.

So sets in motion a whirlwind of events none of the citizens of Mystic Falls are prepared for, including witches, psychics, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and hybrids... and that’s just the beginning.

Eventual Kol x OC (in the meantime, slight Damon x OC and Tyler x OC)

(A/N: Disclaimer - I do not own TVD or TO. Also, this has not been beta’d so any mistakes are my own) (Also the GIF is not mine, all credit to the original creator)

CW: Talk of blood, canon-level violence, eventual cursing and smut

                              1000 AD: The Originals

       “Ayana, you mustn’t do this.” Maja had been begging the older witch to see reason for nearly half a day. 

       “Esther will not be swayed,” Ayana’s response had been the same for nearly half a day. “She wants to protect her children, Maja.”

      “You know what I saw!” Maja protested. “You know how it will anger the Spirits!”

      “Then it will be her consequence to bear, not ours.” Ayana bore no ill will against either the young witch in front of her or the woman of whom they spoke. But she had no desire to get any more mixed up in their business than she already was. She had conceded to Esther’s pleading out of pity, guiding her towards a spell that would give her the protection she so craved for her remaining family. The same night the child, Henrik, had died, however, Maja had Seen a premonition of the future, a rare gift no one else in their land possessed. Monsters, she had cried, you will breed a race of monsters! Esther, who had been a mentor to Maja as she learned alongside Esther’s own son Kol, had ignored her. Blinded by grief, Esther demanded Ayana help her gather the ingredients for the spell, forsaking the Ancestors she had been sworn to. 

    “I saw our home, Ayana.” Maja spoke softly, knowing that was the one bit of information she had yet to share, had left out of her recounting to both women earlier. The destruction of their village. “Overrun with unnatural creatures, bathed in the blood of innocents.” Ayana straightened, abandoning her basket of White Oak bark on the ground.

    “Esther can’t have done that much damage.”

    “Can’t she? A thousand years later, Ayana, and our descendants are still paying for whatever mess Esther creates tonight.” The older witch hesitated, then stepped closer and lowered her voice.

    “There is… something.” She had heard of a tactic they could try, a story passed down from legend. “But it may not work.”

    “I will try anything.” Maja vowed. She felt for Esther, she truly did. Kol and Rebekah, all of them really, were her friends – she didn’t want anything to happen to them; Henrik had been a joyful presence in her life. But she couldn’t let Esther upset the Balance so monumentally – she wouldn’t. Even if it the cost was her life.

——————————————————————————

    The spell Ayana had found for Esther centered around blood – Black Magic. She was to mix it into their dinner, with a few other ingredients, perform the spell, and feed it to her children. The result would be their redemption; no one could hurt any of them ever again. 

    Ayana had found something that might put a dent in that plan. 

    “I won’t be part of this,” she warned Maja. “I gave you the spell, but if you want to stop Esther, you’re on your own.” 

    “I understand.” Esther’s wrath could be as ferocious as her husband’s. “Thank you.”

    “This is not a guarantee. It is a legend, nothing more, and it may not work at all.” But Maja had hope. No premonitions had revealed to her the success of the spell, but she knew enough about her gifts to trust in her intuition. So, she got to work. She knew what Esther had used for the spell – who Esther had used for the spell – and knew that she had only a small window of opportunity. As Esther’s spell centered around blood, so did Maja’s – her own. It only took a bit, not enough to kill her, spelled and mixed in with Tatia’s. In theory, it would provide a loophole specific to her. Esther’s spell may make her children invulnerable, but Maja would be their weakness. By consuming her spelled blood, all six of them would be connected.

    Sneaking as close as she dared to the fire pit outside Mikael’s home, near which sat a cask of wine she knew contained the magical elixir, Maja pulled a bottle of her own blood, previously collected, from under her skirts. As quickly as she could, she began pouring it into the cask, when Rebekah stepped outside.

    “Maja? What are you doing here?” Only half-emptied, Maja was forced to let the small vial fall to the ground, where she pressed it into the mud with her foot.

    “Oh, I was coming to say hello when I smelled your mother’s stew.” Luckily, any strange movements Rebekah might have noticed Maja making were hidden by the rather large spit and pot over the fire. “She really is the best cook in the village.”

    “I would invite you to have some, but my father will be home soon.” Everyone was afraid of Mikael, with good reason. After Henrik’s death, his temper had been even more uncontrollable.

    “I understand. Say hello to your family for me!” Walking quickly away, Maja prayed the amount of blood she’d gotten into the wine had been enough. 

——————————————————————————

    Later that evening, far too apprehensive to finish her supper, Maja stepped outside her home, hoping to find reprieve from the concerned looks of her parents and siblings. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of Mikael through the open window of his own home next door. She was just in time to see him drive his sword through Kol’s heart, an action that felt as though it were echoed in Maja’s own - Kol was, along with Rebekah, her dearest friend. The Sun for life, she chanted to herself, one half of her hoping the poor family would stay dead, the other pleading to see her Kol’s perpetually smiling face pop back up at the window. Mikael left, looking for something, and Maja stepped back into the doorway, hidden from him amongst the shadows. A few minutes later, Kol’s head did appear again in the window, along with the rest of his siblings, all looking bloody and extremely confused. Mikael returned, a sick-looking girl in his arms. Fresh blood. Maja didn’t want to watch anymore. 

    The next night, Maja was sitting under the White Oak in the middle of the village, one of her father’s hunting knives up her sleeve. The White Oak for Immortality… but if the spell had worked, would she be the exception? Mikael’s request, repeated to her by Ayana, rang in her ears. Stronger, faster, superior in power and senses. Perhaps, then, the trick wouldn’t be killing them, but getting to them. As Elijah walked past, off to do whatever errands he could no longer do during the day, Maja made her choice. Dear, sweet Elijah. The most mild-mannered, the most kind. The one least likely to snap her neck should he notice her intentions. 

    Knowing it was likely futile to attempt to be sneaky, as she and Elijah were the only two people out, she went for another tactic.

    “Elijah!” He whirled.

    “Maja? What are you doing out here so late?”

    “I just… wanted to see how you were doing? I know this transition cannot be an easy one.” She stepped closer and he stiffened.

    “No, no it… it is not.” Even now, his deep, calm voice soothed Maja’s anxiety, as it always had. “There are…unexpected challenges.” She imagined all of it was unexpected, but she knew what he was trying to say.

    “Like what?” She stepped closer again, now within striking distance. Elijah was clearly uncomfortable with her line of questioning.

    “Let us just say it is an exercise in control.” Suddenly, she lashed out, knife in hand. Had he been human, it would have gone directly into his heart. As he was not, however, he moved to the side in time to avoid most of the damage. She did leave a long gash across his chest, however.

    It healed almost immediately.

    “What are you doing?” Elijah demanded. Maja was numb.

    “It didn’t work.” She felt her lower lip begin to tremble with tears of hopelessness.

    “Of course, it didn’t work! You of all people should know better.” I meant the spell. But she didn’t correct him, and she didn’t seem to notice that she was being criticized, not for attempting to kill him, but for doing a shoddy job of it. We’re not connected at all.

[emergencymanagement]

there are so many plot holes in Peter’s betrayal IT’S INSANE

okay! hello! can I just rant for a minute? I’m writing a fic that spans from the beginning of the marauders’ years at Hogwarts to Remus and Sirius’ last days together and I’m trying to lay down the timeline of the first war right now, and

 nothing! about! jk rowling’s plot! makes! sense!

(apologies in advance for spelling mistakes I’m drunk and tired, but let’s gO)

Problem 1: The Potters

JK has two conflicting timelines of when the Potters go into hiding:

Timeline 1: 

the Potters go into hiding immediately after Lily becomes pregnant

this means they went into hiding around October 1979 and stayed in hiding for two years until they died in October 1981

that’s a long ass time! a loooooong ass time! you’re telling me they were locked in their house for two years?? that means they only served in the Order for a little over a year which makes no sense because...

Problem 1: Somebody took a photo of the Order in July of 1981 and James and Lily were in it. Why would they have left their newborn baby at home (or taken him with them!) to go to Order headquarters and take a photo for an organization they hadn’t been a part of for almost two years?

Problem 2: In Lily’s letter to Sirius, written around August of 1981, a month after the photo was taken, she reports being in hiding and says that James is starting to get antsy not being able to go anywhere which implies they JUST went into hiding and are still getting used to being stuck in the house

Timeline 2: 

Based on all the information above, the Potters must have gone into hiding early to mid-July in 1981, after the Order photo was taken and before Harry’s birthday  on July 31st (Lily mentions in her letter that Harry celebrated his first birthday in hiding). This would make sense because if Peter was already working for Voldemort (which Sirius claims he was in POA) then it wouldn’t take him very long to betray them to Voldy, and so them being in hiding for only three months before they were killed is very reasonable. So this timeline that I’ve just described must be J.K.’s second timeline, right?? that would make sense, right? WRONG. Nothing makes sense in this world, you fool.

timeline two ACTUALLY says that the Potters had to go into hiding “at the time of Harry’s christening”

which like?? what??? his christening? okay. I guess Lily was devoutly religious because Christianity sure didn’t seem to be a big thing among the purebloods (what this reads like to me, though, is another example of JK Rowling trying to weirdly inject Christianity into the Harry Potter books while ignoring all other religions, but that’s for another time) ((fyi I have no issues with Christianity or blending religion and fantasy but her usage of it is odd and noncommittal)) 

christenings usually happen anywhere from a few weeks to six months after the baby’s birth depending on your sect, situation, e.t.c

this would mean that the Potters went into hiding around late summer-early fall of 1980

THIS would mean that the cast the Fidelius charm for a year before their death

this seems more likely than the first scenario, but all of the problems listed above with the picture and the inconsistencies in the letter are still present

On top of that, Sirius claims that Peter was a spy for a year before the Potters’ death. This would mean that Peter secretly joined Voldemort at almost exactly the same time the Potters went under the Fidelius charm. Admittedly, the Potter family being directly threatened and going into hiding seems like a solid catalyst for Peter noping-the-fuck-out of the Order and secretly becoming a spy. He probably partially joined the Order because all of his friends were doing it (James especially) and so seeing James being forced into hiding was probably a huge shock for him. Also, at this point, the Death Eaters were winning, and he was most definitely shitting himself over that. So. Yes. Timeline works there. 

BUT! then why did it take Peter a year to give the Potters up? It seems (although there’s some wiggle room) like they didn’t switch secret keepers, rather made it seem like Sirius was the secret keeper publicly while Peter was secretly the real secret keeper. In this scenario, Peter either would have had to willfully withhold this information from Voldy himself for almost year, which is kind of a dangerous move coming from a coward, or he told Voldemort the minute he was made secret keeper and for some reason Voldemort didn’t do ANYTHING ABOUT IT FOR A YEAR. Does Voldemort have really bad procrastination issues? Did he just forget that there’s a baby that’s threatening his very existence out there somewhere?

This leaves one last plausible option: something happened that made them switch secret-keepers last minute, and Peter did not become secret keeper until shortly before the Potters’ death. This is not what Pottermore or the books imply, but it’s what makes the most sense. We’ll come back to this option in problem 3 which is all about secret keepers, but for now let’s talk about the prophecy that made all of this come to be... 

Problem 2: The Prophecy

Dumbledore says that the prophecy was made in 1980 “shortly before [Harry’s] birth” on a “cold, wet night”. 

I think that anything below 50 Fahrenheit/10 Celsius can be considered cold, so according to this map of temperatures in the Scottish Highlands:

(okay... yes... I see it too... perhaps the climate map of the Scottish Highlands is taking things a bit too far. But I’m trying to make a point, okay!!)

Trelawney could have conceivably given Dumbledore the prophecy anywhere from late March - early June. There’s some wiggle room there, but I’d place my bets on it happening somewhere in the spring based on the weather and timing. This means that Trelawney made the prophecy a year and a half before Voldemort was finally able to kill the Potters. So what took Voldemort so long? Let’s break it down. 

We know that Snape overheard the prophecy and brought it to Voldemort. From there Voldemort decided to kill Harry not Neville because Harry was a half-blood like himself, Snape went back to Dumbledore and offered himself as a double agent in exchange for Lily’s protection, and Voldemort reportedly spent “months searching” for the Potters until he found their whereabouts and discovered they were using a Fidelius charm. Then “WITHIN A WEEK OF BEING NAMED SECRET KEEPER” Peter betrayed them and Voldemort was able to enter the Potters’ home. The implications of this are too ridiculously convoluted to get into, but I’ll hit the stuff that makes me want to scream: 

Option 1: Snape Tells Voldy Immediately After He Hears the Prophecy

In this scenario, we only have a few months accounted for. Voldemort finds out about prophecy, searches for a few months, finds the Potters, kills them. Makes sense, right? Bing, bang, boom. Very efficient. Except no. He knew for a year and a half, so what was he doing with allll of that extra time? Discovering the joys of muggle television? Completing a 5,000 piece crossword puzzle? Teaching Nagini to dance? Get on top of it, man. World domination is on the line. A few months is not a year and a half. 

It’s also possible that the few months thing is wrong, and Voldemort was actually searching for the full year and a half. If Peter gave the Potters up within a week of becoming secret keeper, they should have been dead wayyy earlier! Like over a year earlier! Even if Sirius was the original secret keeper, and they switched mid-October of 1981, Peter would have still known where the Potters where and that they were under the Fidelius charm, information Voldemort didn’t know until shortly before he killed them. So why did Peter, who was already a spy at this point, fail to say anything? If Voldemort had found out Peter had willfully withheld information, he surely would have killed him. That thought alone should have been enough to make Peter come to him immediately considering how terrified Peter has always been of dying.

Option 2: Snape Sort of Drags His Feet with the Whole Thing

okay so maybe Snape didn’t tell the dark lord immediately. Maybe he knew what this would mean for Lily and was terrified. Maybe he debated for a long time whether it would be safer for Lily if he kept the information to himself or if he told the dark lord and begged him to spare her (fuck the baby, am I right?) 

STILL this is a big risk for Snape. No one really wants to piss of Voldemort and saying, “heyyyy big man, I’ve actually known that there’s a super baby that can kill you for like a year, and I didn’t tell you about it because I was scared, but don’t be mad” is not an A+ move. Seems like Voldemort might be kind of mad. Seems like he might even kill you. It seems unlikely to me that Snape would wait that long, but I guesssss it’s possible.

NO MATTER WHAT there are so many conflicts in this timeline. Everything conflicts with everything else, especially the timeline of the secret keeper which is wholly dependent on the other two fucked-up timelines we just discussed, so without further ado...

Problem 3:  The Secret Keeper

so WHY not just make Sirius the secret keeper? That’s the question of the century. If the secret keeper can only break the Fidelius charm voluntarily--meaning torturing or imperius-ing them can’t force it out--and Sirius, in his own words, “would have died rather than betray [James]” then WHY NOT JUST HAVE SIRIUS BE THE SECRET KEEPER AND  BE DONE WITH IT LADS 

Well here’s Pottermore’s (sigh) answer:

“The answer is that Sirius wanted to deflect attention from the real Secret-Keeper. He probably hoped Voldemort would go after him so he could steer attention away from Pettigrew. If all had gone to plan, Voldemort may never have known Sirius was not the Secret-Keeper – but even if he’d discovered the bluff, Voldemort’s pursuit of Sirius would have given the Potters and Pettigrew time to regroup.” 

Okay... so Sirius wanted to deflect attention from the real secret keeper... and have the Death Eaters come after him instead... but this still explains nothing because whether Sirius is or is not the secret keeper, the Death Eaters are coming after him regardless, and if he knows that he would rather die than betray James and Lily, why risk letting anyone else carry the secret? In other words, why did he trust Peter more than himself? 

The only answer I can think of is that something happened that made Sirius stop trusting himself. For some reason, he felt that the Death Eaters had something on him that might make him break. Sirius’ defining quality is his undying, self-sacrificial loyalty to the people he loves, so it’s a massive deal that he doubted his own ability to be loyal to James, Lily, and Harry. This goes entirely against his character, so something must have happened that was not mentioned in the books. Unless we change his entire character, there’s a HUGE missing piece here.

(I am keeping this a mainly wolfstar-free post because it’s just about the plotting of the books, but I think it’s interesting to explore how the Death Eaters could have threatened to torture/kill Remus to try to try to make Sirius break. That’s literally the only scenario I can imagine that would make Sirius doubt his ability to be loyal to the Potters--if he had to choose between killing James and killing Remus. Anyways. That’s really dark. Let’s move on.)

Problem 4: Peter

Okay so now we’re past the actual event of Peter’s betrayal and hopping ahead to after James and Lily died. 

Why did Peter remain a rat for 12 years?

Pros of Remaining a Rat:

the wizarding world can go on thinking you’re dead and thinking your best friend is guilty of 13 murders

the Death Eaters who think you wanted Voldemort to die at Godric’s Hollow also think you’re dead and aren’t going to be up in your business

someone feeds you

life is simple (if you ignore the many lives weighing on your conscience and the ultimate degradation of your soul)

Cons of Remaining a Rat:

you’re a rat

no one likes you

you have to watch out for mouse traps

you live in a house with Fred and George and probably fear for your life every waking moment

no seriously I think these are big cons

Other Options If You’ve Murdered Your Best Friends and Are a Rat:

go live with the muggles. seriously. there must be a muggle village somewhere without wizards (there aren’t that many wizards) where you can BE A HUMAN. Even if you do run into a wizard, they probably won’t immediately recognize you, and if they do, you can turn into a rat, run away, and go live with the millions of rats of the world

go to space?

no, I mostly just wanted to make that first point

It’s also possible he remained a rat because, as Sirius said, he was “keeping an ear out for news [...] Just in case [his] old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him.” This definitely is possible, but if I had to choose between maybe living a life as a human and living as a rat in case a guy who totally seems dead comes back, I’d try to be a human. Plus, Peter could live with muggles and still keep up with wizard news. 

Problem 5?: Sirius’ Escape

Admittedly, this problem isn’t that big. I still find it a bit weird though.

When Sirius recollects his escape to Harry he says:

If all Sirius had to do to escape Azkaban was to slip out the door when the dementors brought him food, why did he wait twelve years?? yes, okay, he was a universally wanted man and people would have immediately started hunting for him, but Sirius is fucking smart. Dude became an animagi (something only seven other people had done that century) when he was fif-fucking-teen and was considered to be a genius by almost everyone who knew him. Surely he could have hacked it on his own for awhile until he made it to Remus or Dumbledore** and was able to convince them that Peter had been the real secret keeper. And yeah! It may not have worked. In fact, even if Sirius did convince Remus it hadn’t been him, they’re still kind of fucked either way. Worst case scenario, though, Sirius just gets sent back to Azkaban. It’s not like they could have extended his already life-long sentence. I feel like you could argue the merits or disadvantages of running away from Azkaban until you’re blue in the face, but the bottom line is Sirius is a reckless, impulsive, chaotic human being who hates to be told what to do and hates to be made useless and has no qualms risking everything if it seems worth it. So why wasn’t even a brief glimmer of freedom worth it? The only reason I can think of is that Sirius was so destroyed by Peter’s betrayal and the Potters’ death that he didn’t really think it was worth living at all. 

ALSO, one last thing, why is it so fuckin’ easy to escape Azkaban? All you have to do is slip out the door and do some swimming? Someone should have done that years ago!

**okay admittedly Dumbledore probably didn’t care about exonerating Sirius and actually found it quite convenient that he was in Azkaban because it meant Harry had no adult looking out for him, but Sirius didn’t know that, and probably still thought Dumbledore cared somewhat for his wellbeing because they worked so closely in the Order (but this is totally conjecture idk)

anyways, point is: 

 HOW CAN YOU FAIL TO PLOT THE CORNERSTONE OF YOUR ENTIRE SERIES SO SPECTACULARLY?? THIS IS YOUR JOB. THIS IS YOUR LIVELIHOOD. 

If you have any thoughts, answers, or if you simply wish to scream in frustration with me, please add them on!