#alien hall monitor

[get-arbuckled]

interesting combo I made last night

[conneronpav2]

Do you know what DFAC is? (Aka Dave’s fun algebra class)

if you do, well, I drew hall monitor! (I know his design changed but the new one I can’t really draw well at all)

Yes, I know about Dave's fun algebra class

[bambisfunhouse]

[mintiously]

a bunch of human designs for the DFAC folks, i'm still working on them though

cell isn't white he's just albino and dyes his hair (based on a personal headcanon of mine), i don't think i did a good job of making that apparent though X_X

[favefandomimagines]

Moments In Between (f.l)

Summary: the moments in between after a night shift and a day shift.

Request: @craftyphantompotato If you are still accepting request for Frank Langdon, maybe one where the reader returns from a night shift covering for another doctor and she and Frank are cuddled in bed for a bit before Frank has to leave for his day and the kids get up

AN: we need some 100% fluff for Frank because all i know is how to write angst

Dr. Frank Langdon’s alarm buzzed softly on the nightstand, a quiet interruption to the calm before sunrise. But the warmth curled around his side kept him from moving.

Y/N had come home not long ago, just as the first hints of dawn pushed against the navy sky. Her overnight ER shift, covering for Dr. Abbott, had drained her—but it never stopped her from coming home to him.

Her scrubs were traded for his oversized T-shirt, and she slid into bed with a sleepy sigh, curling into the crook of Frank’s side like it was her natural place in the world.

He smiled sleepily, not opening his eyes just yet. Her hand rested on his chest, fingers splayed gently over the steady beat of his heart. He wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her just a bit closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“You’re freezing,” he mumbled, voice rough from sleep.

Y/N laughed lightly, her nose brushing his collarbone. “The ER was like a meat locker. Either that or I’m just too tired to feel warm.”

Frank let out a quiet chuckle, fingers tracing slow circles on her spine. "Remind me to sneak another jacket in your locker."

“Mmm… You’re better than a jacket.”

They lay in comfortable silence for a few beats, the kind of silence that speaks more than words. She pressed her cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it slowed again, pulling her with it.

"How was it?" he asked finally.

Y/N sighed. "Busy. A couple of trauma cases. A kid with a fractured femur. Two psych admits. We ran out of beds by 3 a.m. But no fatalities, thank God."

Frank’s hand moved gently through her hair. “I’m proud of you. Always.”

She shifted just enough to kiss his chest. “You say that like I don’t already know.”

“Still worth saying.”

Her hand slowly trailed up to his jaw. She leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Frank responded instinctively, deepening it just slightly before pulling back to rest his forehead against hers.

“I wish I didn’t have to go in today,” he whispered.

“I know. But I’ll be here when you get back.”

Frank took a breath, as if to memorize this exact moment—her in his arms, the softness of her hair against his skin, the low hum of life beginning in the world outside their window.

A faint creak down the hallway broke the stillness. Y/N turned her head, her eyes meeting Frank’s with a knowing glint.

“Do you think—?”

A little voice came from the hallway. “Daddy?”

Frank smiled. “Yup.”

He sat up gently, brushing a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. Their four-year-old son, Tanner, stood at the door in his dinosaur pajamas, hair standing in a wild puff around his head, holding his stuffed bear under one arm.

“Hey, bud,” Frank said, reaching out. “Come here.”

Tanner scrambled up onto the bed with the eagerness only a toddler could have, squishing himself between his parents.

“Morning, Mommy,” he said sleepily.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Y/N whispered, kissing his forehead.

“I dreamed we were all in space,” he said matter-of-factly, climbing over Frank’s leg to get closer to her. “You were flying the rocket ship.”

Frank laughed. “Of course she was.”

“I made breakfast for the aliens.”

Y/N gasped softly. “What did you make?”

“Peanut butter pancakes. But with glitter.”

“That sounds delicious, bud.”

A soft cry came from the baby monitor on the nightstand. Frank reached over and clicked it off, already rising from bed.

“I’ll get her,” he said.

Y/N caught his hand before he left, squeezing it. “Thanks. Love you.”

He bent down and kissed her gently. “Love you more.”

Frank padded down the hall and returned a few minutes later with their two-year-old daughter, Maisie, rubbing her eyes and clutching a soft blanket to her chest.

“Look who’s up,” he said, setting her gently on the bed.

Maisie immediately curled up beside Y/N, who scooped her up into a warm embrace.

“Hi, baby girl,” Y/N cooed, brushing the toddler’s hair back. “Did you have sweet dreams?”

Maisie nodded solemnly, laying her head against her mother’s chest.

Tanner poked his sister’s foot. “We were in space, Maisie. You were a space kitten.”

She blinked at him and smiled sleepily.

Frank leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching the three of them. The soft morning light painted the room in gold. There were a million things to do, patients to see, rounds to make—but right now, none of that mattered.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion but still filled with a quiet kind of joy. “Go get dressed,” she said softly. “We’ll be here when you get back.”

Frank nodded, reluctant to break the moment. He walked over, kissed each of them again—Tanner on the forehead, Maisie on the cheek, and Y/N on the lips.

“I love our little morning in-between,” he said.

She smiled. “Me too.”

Frank’s day at the hospital was predictably hectic. Rounds were nonstop, and the ER was flooded with cases ranging from a fractured clavicle to a construction worker with a rebar injury. But he kept one hand in his pocket all day, fingers brushing the soft corner of the family photo Y/N had slipped in there on their last anniversary.

He checked in with her on break: a voice message that made him grin as she recounted how Tanner had tried to use peanut butter as glue to build a “space rocket” in the kitchen, and Maisie had insisted on wearing her shoes on the wrong feet.

When his shift ended, the sun had long dipped behind the buildings, and the sky was painted in indigo and rose. He stopped to grab takeout from their favorite Thai place and headed home.

Y/N was on the couch, Maisie asleep on her chest, Tanner curled up next to her with a picture book about astronauts. She looked up with a tired but radiant smile.

“Perfect timing,” she whispered.

Frank leaned over the back of the couch and kissed her forehead. “I brought pad thai.”

“Marry me,” she murmured.

“Already did.”

He set the food on the counter, scooped up Tanner with expert Dad reflexes, and brought him to bed. Then he returned for Maisie, carefully replacing her blanket after laying her down.

Y/N joined him in the kitchen, her hair pulled up messily, dark circles under her eyes, but to Frank she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

They ate in companionable silence, only the hum of the fridge and distant city noise filling the space.

“You still want to watch that docuseries about Everest?” he asked after they’d cleaned up.

“Only if I can fall asleep halfway through.”

Frank held out his hand. “Deal.”

They settled on the couch again, her head on his chest, legs tangled beneath a shared blanket. The documentary played, but neither made it past the first twenty minutes.

The world continued around them—beepers buzzing, city lights blinking—but in their little apartment, wrapped in warmth and each other, time softened. They had each other, their babies, and these small, precious pockets of peace between the chaos.

And sometimes, that was everything.

[corruptedcaps]

Out of Office

Dr. Morgan stood at the threshold of his lab, his pulse quickening as he stared at his phone. He had just returned from a week-long vacation in the remote mountains, completely cut off from civilization. It was supposed to be a simple break from his intense work of studying alien biological samples recovered from a meteorite impact site.

His assistant, Claire, had assured him that everything would be fine in his absence. But as he listened to her voicemails, a growing dread gripped him. Something had gone wrong.

At first, her messages were normal but they got increasingly... odd. He had listened to them in the car on the way to the lab and with each subsuquent message he sped up faster.

VOICEMAIL 1 Monday, 8:32 AM

"Hey, Doctor! It’s Claire. Just wanted to check in and let you know everything’s good here. The samples are stable, no unexpected changes. I’ll keep logging their activity and make sure nothing gets near the containment units. No need to worry. Enjoy your time off! You deserve the break."

VOICEMAIL 2 Wednesday, 10:17 AM

"Hi, Doctor. So… small update. One of the samples, Sample B, showed a bit of activity. It pulsed for a second, almost like it was… alive. Weird, right? Anyway, it’s back to normal now. Probably some environmental fluctuation. I’ll keep monitoring it, just to be safe."

VOICEMAIL 3 Thursday, 11:43 PM

"Doctor… something’s happening. Sample D started moving on its own. And B, it’s… growing. It’s not contained to its chamber anymore. I tried to secure it, but it, it touched me. I feel… strange. My skin’s warm, almost buzzing. I don’t know what it’s doing to me. I need you to call me as soon as you get this."

VOICEMAIL 4 Friday, 2:27 PM

"Hey, Doctor. You know what? I was totally overreacting. I think… I was afraid of something I didn’t understand. But now, I see it. The samples… they’re not hostile. They’re… welcoming. When Sample B made contact with me, it didn’t hurt. It felt incredible. Like it was… part of me. I feel connected to something bigger, something extraordinary. You should experience it too."

VOICEMAIL 5 Saturday, 8:19 PM

"Doctor… The samples, they’ve helped me so much. My skin is softer, my body��� enhanced in ways I can’t describe. I look in the mirror and barely recognize myself… but I love it. My lips are fuller, my boobs are big and perfect. I feel… powerful, seductive, radiant. Every inch of me hums with energy. The samples made me better. That’s why I’m going to release the rest of them. I can feel their eagerness to touch me."

VOICEMAIL 6 Sunday, 6:00 AM

"Evan… come to the lab. They’re waiting for you. I’m waiting for you. We’ll be whole, together. I’ve missed you… so much."

-

Evan’s breath quickened as the last message ended as he stood in front of his lab door. He hesitated. Something was clearly wrong with Claire and the samples but maybe he could help her. He threw open the door and rushed toward the lab. But just as he stepped into the hall, he skidded to a stop.

Claire stood there, waiting for him.

Her once-pristine lab coat had now morphed into a tight and shiny black dress that barely clung to her body. Speaking of her body, it was now the most perfect female form Evan had ever seen. Her skin was flawless, her breasts envious and her curves made Evan feel weak. Her eyes were now black pools of liquid light, swirling with alien energy. She smiled, her lips impossibly perfect, her voice honey-sweet yet filled with something darker.

"We’ve missed you, Doctor." She said softly, stepping closer.

Before he could react, she reached out and pressed her hand against his chest. The black goo slithered off her fingertips and onto his shirt, spreading like liquid fire across his skin. Evan stumbled back, gasping as the substance soaked through his clothes, cold and burning all at once.

He tried to scream, but the goo surged upward, a wave of darkness pouring into his mouth and down his throat, silencing him. He thrashed, struggling to resist, but the alien substance had a mind of its own. It moved inside him, rewriting him. His muscles bulged, growing stronger, leaner. His skin tightened, taking on a flawless sheen. His features sharpened, transforming him into a figure of striking beauty and power.

Claire watched with a wicked smile as he convulsed, his body remade in the image of something far beyond human.

Evan fought against the alien organisms infecting his body and mind. He couldn’t give in.

“No! This is wrong. We have to fight it Claire!” He said trying to plead with her humanity but she wasn’t human anymore.

“Shh…” She whispered. “Don’t fight it. You’re becoming what we need you to be. What I need you to be. We have been chosen for a great purpose Evan, we will birth a new race to conquer this worthless planet. You and I are will be the first. I will be the queen and if you give in, you shall be the king.”

Evan tried to fight the pleasure now coursing through his body. He felt strong, powerful, alive. The alien organism showed him images of a world that he controlled, of an army that bowed before him. It was an intoxicating sight but what tipped him over the edge were the images of Claire, his wicked queen, moaning in carnal pleasure as he fucked her with a new more massive cock.

Evan’s body stopped trembling. His breath steadied, his eyes snapping open, jet black, swirling like Claire’s. His lips curled into a slow, hungry smile as he looked at her, desire and power coursing through him.

“Yessss…” He hissed, his voice thick with newfound strength. “Give in… I want to give in!”

The black goo solidified, wrapping around his body like armor, transforming his vacation wear into a sleek, obsidian suit that clung to him as tightly as Claire’s did to her. His hands flexed, marveling at the raw power that surged through him. He stepped toward Claire, his eyes burning with lust and purpose.

“My queen.” He said, his voice like velvet. “There’s much work to do.”

Claire’s eyes gleamed with delight. She traced her finger down his chest, her touch electric.

“So much glorious work, my king.” She whispered. “And we’ll make this world kneel before us.”

"This world is merely an appetiser. Once it is under our heel our destiny awaits out in the stars." He said with a dark and triumphant laugh that Claire soon joined in on. Their reign was about to begin.

[fancyfeathers]

Requested in messages by @elvabeth

A scenario that lets say all the darlings were in the JL watchtower by themselves cause of some world ending event. The tower is on lockdown (courtesy of batman) to prevent them from escaping. Unfortunately, while the JL are at the other side of the planet or something, the watchtower ends up being attacked by aliens, robots, armed goons or all of them and the darlings can't escape. Doors to the outside are locked. The windows are barred or stuff Ps luthor is responsible Or some sort of high end terrorist group That wants to bring down the Justice League The worst part is that even when the darlings made to the backdoor or secret door whatnot, they can't leave cause of their shock bracelets. Plus the communication system in the tower have been hacked so they can't call for help. Worst part, the Justice league aren't aware of this until after they're done with their mission when Barry can't reach his darling's phone. But when they get there, The watchtower is in shambles and they meet this kind of scene

Minus the dead people The shock bracelets are on the floor soaked in blood but their darlings are no where to be found How will they take this and what's the aftermath Sorry it's so long Ps Hal's darling is paralyzed here

Yandere!Justice League AU Masterlist

Not including Diana’s and Arthur’s darling because I covered why they would not be in the Watchtower or the Hall of Justice here

TW// Very Slight Ableism, Miscarriage, Traumatic Injuries, Loss of Body Parts

It would have been an extremely dangerous incident, the level of Doomsday, in order for everyone to leave. Hell, normally Bruce leaves his darling back at the manor but he has no idea of when he would be returning.

Their one mistake was choosing to leave their darlings in the Hall of Justice instead of the Watchtower, it would be easier to get them all out on the ground if something went wrong.

The Hall of Justice was locked up so tight so that even a drop of sunlight would not even get in, or even oxygen from the outside, but the hall is big enough that they do not even have to worry suffocating.

At first the quiet and person space is nice for a change, especially for Hal’s darling since when he is there he practically never lets her move about on her own, she honestly misses those days as a detective more than anything, but then… she had her accident not too long ago.

Clark’s darling is really just happy to be around other people, it somewhat helps break the perfect family delusion he has made, a darling who is pregnant with his child. It reminds her of who she used to be before all of this occurred.

Barry’s darling is in the same boat as Clark, albeit a tad less delusional, at least lucid enough to know his darling does not want any children… yet, at least. Barry being Barry, I don’t think he can go complete no contact with his darling, so he lets her have phone which has one of those network monitors, so practically all she can do is text and call Barry and whoever else he lets her have contact with. So every few hours he calls up his darling to check up on her, and she does not even have the choice to hang up or ignore it because he has a setting to answer on her behalf, benign all happy and cheerful on the phone, asking how she’s been and having Batman yelling at him to put the damn phone down.

Both Oliver Queen’s and Bruce Wayne’s darlings is just kind of indifferent to it all, it does change any of their circumstances in the long run. Then thanks to Bruce none of them will even have the chance to get out of there, you know those ankle bracelets that people wear on house arrest? Ya turn that up to eleven, pulse, mics, precision point accurate tracking, and a small shock to keep them in line and out of forbidden areas. Though a few won’t let their darlings have this on, because what if something goes wrong or what if it malfunctions and it hurts them? This is namely Clark (because he can always have eyes, or ears rather, on his darling at all times), Hal (his darling was stabbed in the back, literally, when she was a detective and is paralyzed from the waist down, like hell he is going to let something go wrong and fuck her up and hurt her even more), and then Kyle just doesn’t like the vibe of it all.

Kyle Rayner’s and John Stewart’s darlings are just kinda all used to it at this point, with the things they have heard about from the Green Lanterns it’s normally just a question if they should be not worried, slightly worried, or very worried and normally this means how much they need to bunker down. When Hal’s darling comes along they just kinda form a group with how much they get tossed around from place to place for their own protection while they are away.

Then there is just J’onn J’onnes’ darling, who I see being in more of an aroace relationship with him, she is just over everything, literally nothing bothers her because well she does not have no more privacy of her own mind. Like while everyone else is slightly scared or when members of the League are leaving their darlings there, she is just sitting in an armchair, reading her book, completely unbothered by what is happening even when she gets one of Bruce’s cuffs on her ankle.

Now onto the interesting bit of things, it’s one of the nights when they are all alone, they had just finished cleaning up from dinner and everyone is settling down for the night, all of them going off and doing their own things.

And things certainly go wrong in the night.

…

When the Justice League returns they certainly do not expect what they see…

Everything is in ruins…

Blood lining the walls…

The cuffs on the ground and-

Oh god that is an arm.

The footage was bugged so they cannot even look back to see what happened, the power was cut which made everything a complete blackout.

Bruce would barely be able to track anything if it was not for the last security measure he put in place, a chip in his darling’s neck so he could track her if anything went wrong.

While everyone else is arguing about what to do, Bruce and Clark have already figured out their location, though Bruce is much more put together than Clark is.

The Superman looks mortified, just standing there in shock and staring down at the ground.

“There is only one heartbeat…”

Their unborn child never got to see life because of what happened.

It was some mass terrorist organization who the Justice League had bumped heads with before. They saw an opportunity and took it, god knows how they got the information but if they were able to hack the system of the Hall of Justice then they really should not be surprised.

They can’t kill…

But they have to rescue them first…

And then shut down what’s going on.

The Green Lanterns will get to the darlings first, use their constructs to stabilize whatever happened to them, Clark’s darling is a priority since a miscarriage can be deadly, so is Hal’s darling due to her condition, along then with whoever lost the arm. The others will clear the way and-

When they find them all they are a complete mess…

Serious lacerations on every single one of them.

Hal’s darling was clearly thrown against the wall when they arrived and she clearly had head damage and was laying in her own blood that she could not even push herself out of due to the injured state of her arms and the uselessness of her legs.

Serious damage to the left eye of Barry’s darling, cut by some sort of rusted weapon.

Kyle’s darling had broken her right ankle and left leg, along with a huge gash on her upper back. John’s darling was looking after her as the best she can with a broken foot.

Oliver’s darling is the one with the missing arm, clean sliced off along with a punctured lung and in a state of unconsciousness while Bruce’s darling looks after her since she was lucky to get off with only a sprained ankle.

Then there was Clark’s darling, a complete mess, head trauma, broken ribs, and a miscarriage causing her to bleed out. Similar to the previous, J’onn J’onnes’ darling was in well enough condition to take care of her, just enough to stabilize her.

When everything is said and done and they are safe again, there is a heavy bitterness in the air.

The kidnapped them saying that they were keeping them safe…

Hal’s darling entered a coma from her head injuries after being rescued and has not woken up yet after her surgeries.

Barry’s darling had to get her eye removed in order to prevent infection, and then minor damage to the other eye.

Kyle’s darling can’t move out of the awkward position the doctors put her in on her side, so she doesn’t put pressure on the gash on her back or the shattered leg with a metal pole in her leg because of it.

John’s darling is one of the lucky few with only a boot and crutches for a few weeks.

Oliver’s darling had gone into surgery after surgery for her injuries, her arm and lung getting her placed in severe intensive care for at least a few months.

Clark’s darling is in a state of pure emotional distress along with her injuries, her head having been braced and stitched up after a surgeries to take care of her head damage and her… her miscarriage.

Clark is just as much in a state of distress as his darling over her injuries and the fact that he was supposed to protect her and their child and now one of them is dead and the other has injuries she will never fully recover from.

J’onn’s darling and Bruce’s darling are far more focused in looking after the others since they are far more healthy than the others. They visit them all in the medical wing, Bruce’s darling leaving flowers at their bedside, J’onn’s darling reading to them (I think she would be a librarian before all of this), and either of them sitting with Hal’s darling while she is in her current state along with Oliver’s darling who is in recovery.

All of them are in extremely pain emotionally and physically, they were kidnapped, told it was to keep them safe and for their own good, and now one of them is in a coma after she was paralyzed a number of months prior, another is missing an arm along with extremely brain trauma, one of them is missing an eye along with being now legally blind in the other, and one of them is now dealing with the loss of a child.

God when Hal’s darling wakes up she will be having a field day when she was right all along.

[megalony]

Our Army- Part 2

Here is the follow up to my Eddie Diaz imagine, thank you all for the lovely feedback on this one.

I have an idea for the third part too if anyone would like that.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Part 1

Part 3

Summary: With another impending arrival, (Y/n) and Eddie have to tell the rest of the kids their news. And talk about the possibility of moving to a bigger home.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twisting his head to the left, Eddie leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of (Y/n)'s head. He began to glide his hand up and down her arm while his foot moved in tandem, tapping the heel of his boot against the floor.

He felt the way (Y/n) hummed into his chest and nuzzled her cheek into his shirt like she was trying to hide herself away, and it made him smile into her hair. He didn't have to say anything to guess that (Y/n) didn't feel much better. He could feel her hand scrunching up his shirt in her fist and she was leaning into him enough that she was almost sitting on his lap.

Eddie tapped his free hand against his thigh as he slouched back in his seat with one leg crossed over the other. His eyes trained in on his hand and he grimaced; it was clear he had just come off shift. Washing his hands hadn't done anything to rid the muck from beneath his nails and he still had dirt caked into his knuckles that were starting to split and crack.

And he hadn't had time to get changed into the spare clothes in his locker. If he wanted to get down to the hospital on time for (Y/n)'s first antenatal appointment then he had to hurry.

"You good?" He murmured into her hair, earning a small hum as (Y/n) lifted her head from his chest to bury her face in his neck instead.

He wasn't quite sure whether (Y/n) was feeling sick or if she was tired or even if it was a mixture of both.

Morning sickness had gotten worse and to add to the mix, Amelia had been staying in their bed for the last week. She had two nights of rough seizures that kept her off school and kept (Y/n) awake with her in the night.

"I think we're up." He looked over at the monitor when (Y/n)'s name flashed up on the screen, and he didn't miss the quiet groan (Y/n) let out into his shirt.

She moved her hands to push herself up and took the time to shake her head and try to clear her mind. Eddie had been at work last night and into the morning and (Y/n) ended up with Amelia, Chris and Paul in the bed with her last night. It was a wonder Tilly spent the night in her own bed when the room was empty and she wasn't used to sleeping alone.

Paul had practically laid on top of (Y/n) most of the night and Chris had a tendency to kick and wriggle a lot in his sleep. (Y/n) didn't get a lot of sleep and she felt drained from not eating much today.

It felt good to have Eddie's arm around her waist and (Y/n) felt his lips against the side of her neck as they headed down the hall into room number ten on the right.

They had been in this position many, many times. Eddie had been to only one of the scans when they had Amelia as he had been in the army for most of the pregnancy. But he did his best to make it to all the rest, and he'd already told Bobby (Y/n) was pregnant again.

Bobby was more than sympathetic and agreed they could try and work around her antenatal appointments and Eddie was already booked in for annual leave around (Y/n)'s due date so he could be off with her and the kids.

"Okay Mrs Diaz, how are you?"

"Nauseous." (Y/n) did her best to smile and look okay, but she knew she looked green around the gills and her stomach was churning. She watched a sympathetic look cross the midwife's face as she looked down at her notes quickly.

"Oh dear. You've been prescribed complan shakes in your last pregnancy, did they help? I'll make sure to order you some vitamins and anti-emmetics that you can collect today."

"Yeah, they helped." (Y/n) didn't necessarily like the taste of the supplement drinks, but they boosted her system and gave her protein and vitamins when she couldn't keep down any food. She nodded when the midwife murmured that she would write her a new prescription for some and she felt Eddie's hand move to grip her thigh comfortingly.

"Okay, let's have a look at this little one shall we?"

(Y/n) wished she had one of those complan shakes right now when she stood up and her legs started to shake. She felt Eddie's hand on the small of her back and his other hand on her arm and she knew he could see how shaky she felt.

It felt good to be sat down again and she leaned her head back, taking a moment to suck in a deep breath to clear her head. She felt Eddie hovering beside her, his hand gliding up and down her arm while she rolled her shirt up and tucked it beneath her bra.

"This will be cold, but I'm sure you're used to this routine by now." The midwife's words were kind and (Y/n) nodded, lifting her head to look up at Eddie for a moment.

He tangled their hands together while his other arm pressed over his chest with his fingers tapping against his chin and mouth, but it did nothing to distort the smile on his face.

It didn't matter how many times they had been in this position, Eddie loved being at scans and seeing the baby appear on the screen for the first time. It made everything real. After today, they would be thinking of ways to tell their families that they were having yet another baby.

Eddie stroked his thumb against the back of (Y/n)'s hand and when he caught her eye, he winked. She looked a little better now she was sat down again.

(Y/n) dithered her eyes between Eddie and the midwife to try and keep herself awake. She fretted closing her eyes for too long and falling asleep. But when she looked back at the midwife, she started to feel her chest tightening up with sparks of adrenaline fluttering in her stomach beneath the sonogram.

Could she not find a heartbeat? Was she struggling to find the baby? (Y/n) took two pregnancy tests that both came back positive and she had been in this position four times already, she knew the signs and feelings. She was pregnant.

Was something wrong this time?

Her fingers squeezed Eddie's hand causing him to stroke his thumb along the back of her hand to try and calm her down.

"Okay…" The midwife plastered a smile across her face and pushed the screen to face them while her other hand held the sonogram in place. Pressing it down quite firmly into (Y/n)'s stomach which caused her to wriggle. If she applied any more pressure, (Y/n) felt sure her bladder was going to burst.

(Y/n) pulled on Eddie's hand, pressing his hand against her chest while she sat forward a little so she was at a better angle to see the screen. To see their fifth- and last- baby.

"Alright, so this familiar shape here is baby A, and down here, we have baby B tucked away in the corner."

Confusion plastered across both their faces which leaned forward to scrutinise the screen.

A and B? What was she talking about?

"You- you mean…"

"Twins, congratulations." She could see the shock written on their faces and dwelling in their eyes. "All seems good here, I'll print these off and make a note on your file. You'll need extra appointments and close monitoring now."

(Y/n) let her head fall back as stars twinkled in front of her eyes. Twins. Two babies, at the same time. She was going to be weighed down with two kids. She would have to make double the effort during labour if they were having two babies. Two newborns to settle and change and feed during the night and take out and dress. Two more kids running round the house.

Six children.

Her head flopped to the left and she looked up at Eddie, apprehensive about what kind of look was going to be on his face. He had had mixed reviews about having another baby, although every day since she told him, Eddie had reassured her a thousand times that he wanted this. But neither of them had thought about the possibility of twins. They had ever had a multiple pregnancy before.

(Y/n) could of passed out when she saw a dazed smile pulling at Eddie's lips and he was practically leaning over her to get a better view of the monitor. She gently slid her hand from his hold to reach up and cup the side of his face while the midwife jotted down a few notes.

"Babe…?"

"I did say I wanted an army." He murmured before he ducked down to steal a kiss from her lips.

It seemed to be an unspoken agreement that this would be their last pregnancy. Five kids would be more than enough and as much as (Y/n) loved their family- and she knew Eddie was always infatuated with her when she was pregnant- five pregnancies was enough.

This seemed like the perfect twist, like a present to have two for the price of one with their last pregnancy.

(Y/n) could feel her heart rocketing in her chest when Eddie smiled against her lips and glided his tongue across her lower lip before he pulled back. He was happy. His face was beaming like the moon on a clear night and his expression made (Y/n)'s emotions soar.

"If we sit you back down at the desk, I can take some bloods and your BP and then you can be on your way."

(Y/n) let Eddie take her hands and help her up off the bed and she was glad to feel his arms around her to guide her back over to the chairs in front of the desk.

Her hand moved to tangle in her hair and she leaned her head to one side, becoming lost in thought. They were going to have six kids. There was going to be eight of them in the house. It might be time for a move. God, the kids were going to be thrilled at the prospect of twins in the family.

She leaned her head on Eddie's shoulder while he kissed the top of her head and gripped her thigh. She could feel him buzzing with excitement, his fingers twitching against her skin, his foot jittering up and down and she could practically sense the thoughts rushing through his head at a mile a minute.

With two newborns in the house after Eddie's annual leave finished, (Y/n) might need some help. She wasn't sure how she would cope with six kids, two being newborns who needed constant changing, feeding, nurturing and attending to. At least the other kids would be at school during the day which meant (Y/n) would have to juggle newborns during the day.

It was going to be a hassle, but they would make it work. They always did, and this is what they wanted.

"Ready?"

(Y/n) held her left arm out and nodded as she lifted her head from Eddie's shoulder and sat up straight. The elastic strap around her arm didn't feel too bad, but she winced when she felt the needle prodding at her elbow. Then again, then again.

"Sorry, I'm struggling to find a vein."

Turning to the right, (Y/n) looked up at Eddie as he leaned over and pecked her temple. It was always a struggle trying to draw blood, (Y/n) never seemed to have any prominent veins and she went home looking like a pin cushion.

She winced when the needle finally sank into her arm and her right hand moved to clench around Eddie's thigh, giving her something to focus on other than the uneasy feeling in her numb arm.

Her arm felt like it was about to drop off when the band finally unstrapped from her arm and she jingled her elbow, grimacing when she could barely feel her fingertips.

"Let's do your BP- do you feel alright?" The midwife stuck some cotton over the crease of (Y/n)'s elbow, but she inched closer when she noticed the faraway look in (Y/n)'s eyes.

Whatever she tried to murmur came out as a groan and Eddie surged forward, binding his right arm across (Y/n)'s waist when she flopped forward. He felt her head tip down towards her knees, her upper body flagging over his arm as if she had been shot. Her arms dropped to her sides and she dithered on the edge of the chair with Eddie being the only thing stopping her from crashing to the floor.

"Oh, okay amor, down we go."

Eddie tried to be careful as he wound his left arm around to cup her forehead and he gently leaned her backwards. He twisted to be in front of her, letting (Y/n)'s head drop onto his shoulder and her body lean into his chest. And when he went down on his knees on the floor, he eased (Y/n) down with him. It didn't take much effort to lay her down on the floor and he made sure she was on her side in the recovery position.

His fingers carded through her hair, keeping it from her face and he stroked his fingertips along her cheek. Watching each flutter of her eyelids and how her head moved a little as if she were leaning into his touch.

He continued to drag his fingertips along her skin whilst trying to calm down his own breathing. He felt like closing his eyes and passing out too. He hadn't been expecting this when he woke up this morning.

Six kids.

"Lia, can you come here a minute, carino?" Eddie reached his hand out to wave to his eldest who was just about to walk out the kitchen.

He caught her eye and ticked his head to the side, watching the confusion dance across her eyes but she nodded all the same. She changed paths, walking sluggishly over towards the living room like she wasn't truly awake yet.

Her eyes cast around the room, noting that her mum was sat in the armchair with her dad perched on the arm rest. Chris and Paul were sat on the rug with a board game laid between them and pieces scattered all around the floor and on the coffee table. And Tilly was sat on the sofa, a teddy bound in her arms and her attention fully focused on the cartoon on the tv.

It looked like they were having some kind of family meeting.

Amelia set her drink down on the table and slumped onto the sofa, curling her legs beneath her and binding her arms around her waist.

Once she was sat down, Eddie paused the tv, much to Tilly's annoyance as she snapped her head to look at him. Her big eyes narrowed and she let out a little whine before pointing to the tv, making her discontent rather clear.

"Daddy…"

"One minute girly, we need to talk to you all."

(Y/n) smiled softly when the boys looked up at them, suddenly drawn away from their game. They both sat upright and twisted so they were facing both parents while (Y/n) leaned against Eddie's thigh.

"Why?" There was a smile on Chris's face, despite the confusion pooling in his wide eyes. He had a feeling this was about something good. Usually when they were all told to sit together and talk, it was because they were going on holiday somewhere. Or when they had made the big move from Texas over to LA before Tilly had been born.

"Because we have something to tell you." (Y/n) began stroking her thumb up and down Eddie's thigh and when she tilted her head back to look up at him, she noticed he was gliding his hand up and down his chin and jaw. A nervous habit he had picked up from somewhere.

They had planned to have this conversation today, but they hadn't said who would be the one to tell the news. It was usually (Y/n) who told the kids each time they were having a baby, mainly because with the boys, she had enlisted Amelia to make it a surprise for Eddie to find out.

They both shared a look for a moment or two and (Y/n) felt Eddie's hand gliding further down her back while his tongue poked against his cheek, he was still thinking every thought possible.

"We're going to have another baby."

"Baby?" The excitement in Tilly's voice was lit up with the smile on her face and she pointed at (Y/n) as if it wasn't clear who would be having the baby. Tilly was the youngest up to now, she had never seen (Y/n) during a pregnancy, she was only three and Paul was five, he didn't remember (Y/n) having Tilly. But Chris and Amelia did.

Eddie snapped his head to look over at Amelia when he heard her gasp "Again?" and for a second he thought he would be met with an angered expression. But her wide eyes and open-mouthed smile made him relax.

"Yes, again." He rolled his eyes and shook his head towards Amelia which caused her to grin and dip her head down. "But this time, we uh… this time, we've found out that your mum's having twins."

The round of surprised faces looking back at them was nerve-wracking, but the way Chris leaned his head back and started to laugh made their nerves dissipate somewhat. They both heard him mutter something along the lines of 'six of us' as he continued to laugh and stuffed his thumb into his mouth, clearly happy about this news.

Tilly leaned across towards her big sister and gently patted her arm so she could mumble the word twins with a confused expression. She was only three and none of the kids in her nursery or their family were twins.

"Two babies," Amelia whispered as she leaned into the arm rest and looked over at her parents. It was kind of thrilling to know she was going to be the eldest of six kids. Sharing the attention of their parents wasn't going to be fun, but twins in the family was going to be great. And that meant more visits from their grandparents.

Whenever (Y/n) had a baby, their family always came over and Amelia knew Eddie's parents would be straight down here the moment the twins were born. And she couldn't wait for the team to know, it was going to make all their parties and events much more interesting.

Tilly's little eyes went wide and she quickly shuffled off the sofa so she could trot over to the armchair. She planted her arms down on (Y/n)'s thighs and looked up at her mum very sweetly in the kind of way she would do when she wanted something.

(Y/n) waited, brows raised, for her youngest to ask for something or come out with a question. But she was taken by surprise when Tilly leaned forward and patted her hand against (Y/n)'s stomach.

"Two? You're not big." There was clear confusion in her voice and (Y/n) leaned her head back into Eddie. That wasn't a question she liked. She couldn't explain properly to Tilly because their toddler wouldn't understand, and she wasn't looking forward to any of the kids commenting on how big she was going to be once she was in the later trimester.

"Because the babies are tiny right now, princess." Leaning over, Eddie swooped down and picked Tilly up, earning a squeal from her as he sat her on his lap.

"Where will they sleep?" Paul had a bright smile on his face and he was patting his hands down excitedly on the coffee table, but there was hesitation in his eyes as the question dawned on him.

They were all sharing rooms already. The boys shared a bedroom and so did the girls. Two more siblings meant there would be three of them per room and Paul didn't like the sound of that. At the moment he and Chris had bunk beds, Paul being on top because Chris wouldn't be able to climb the ladder. But they liked having bunk beds, they could play games and make forts and it meant their room was bigger.

They had a desk and a computer and tv in their room and enough space for race car tracks and all the fire trucks and ambulance toys they were collecting. They didn't want another bed in their room.

And there wouldn't be room in the girl's bedroom for another bed or a cot, it would be too cramped.

"That's what we wanted to talk about. It's gonna be too cramped in this house with eight of us. So me and your mum were thinking about moving-"

"Where?" A streak of panic flooded Chris's voice as his smile finally dampened down and he spoke around his thumb that was still stuffed in his mouth. He didn't want to move. This was their home.

They had moved from Texas down here and that had been scary, it took Chris a while to get used to a new environment and new routines and people and schools. He didn't want to move. He loved his school and his friends in class, he loved being so close to the beach and the parks and the zoo and he loved the team Eddie worked with who were their family. He didn't want to leave.

"We're staying in LA, buddy I promise. We're not leaving this area, we just need a bigger house, that's all. We could end up on the next block, we don't know yet."

Eddie smiled and tightened his arms around Tilly, squeezing her into his chest as he kissed her temple.

They didn't want any of the kids worrying about leaving town. They weren't going to uproot like they had done four years ago. They were all settled and happy here and this was where they were staying, it was just the house they needed to change. Both (Y/n) and Eddie loved their respective jobs and they would never move the kids from their schools and friends now everyone was happy here.

"Do we still have to share rooms?" There was a small spark of hope in Amelia's voice, although she was perplexed.

She didn't want to share a room with Tilly if she had the choice. Tilly was her sister and she loved her, but she was a toddler. She went to bed early so Amelia had to stay in the front room or wear her headphones and be quiet if she was awake in their room. And if Tilly woke with nightmares, she woke Amelia and she was loud and disruptive.

But Amelia had had her own room before Tilly was born, and it had been hard at times. At least with Tilly, if Amelia had a seizure during the night, Tilly would cry out for their parents and Amelia always got help. When she had her own room sometimes her parents didn't always hear her.

Once she had fallen out of bed and had to scream for help once her seizure finally wore off.

"I don't think we can get a seven-bedroom house, baby." (Y/n) inclined her head in Amelia's direction with a soft smile. "But we'll have a few more rooms, not everyone will have to share. We'll make it work."

It was doubtful that they would be able to get a house big enough for all the kids to have separate rooms. They might get a house with only one more room which would mean the girls would still share, Chris and Paul would share, and then the twins would have a room of their own.

All they knew at the moment was they had to start looking soon and they would find something that worked for them all.

"But we want to start the process soon, get moving now before we have the twins so it's not too much stress and we all won't be cramped in here or have the twins in the middle of moving house. Is everyone okay with that?"

Neither of them were quite sure what they would do if any of the kids disagreed or said they didn't want to move. It wasn't much of a choice to stay here for much longer. But the round of smiles and nods and excited noises they got made them both smile.

They had to get sorted soon. Eddie and (Y/n) couldn't waste any time. The only choice they had was either get a house and move now while she was still in the early stages of pregnancy. Or wait until she'd had the twins to move. Once (Y/n) got to six or seven months along, moving would be too stressful and hard so they wanted to move now.

It would be a lot easier to get into a new house and get settled now because then they would have the space for the twins. Waiting would mean cramping everyone in this house and then doing the moving process with two fussy babies in the mix.

That wouldn't be ideal.

***

"Ready?" (Y/n) glanced her eyes down to the kids who all looked like they were bubbling over with excitement.

When she felt Paul pressing up into her side, she held her hand out and watched him deadlock their hands together. His head rested against her hip and he pushed into her leg, snuggling up into her side as much as he could manage without knocking (Y/n) over. He looked eager but still nervous.

Paul had been a toddler when they moved from Texas to LA so he didn't remember the big move. The house they were currently in was the only one he ever knew, and moving was a big prospect, even if they were still staying within the same area.

"Okay, let's take a look."

Eddie had Tilly bouncing on his hip, her arms deadlocked around his neck and her head on his shoulder and she didn't seem like she wanted him to put her down anytime soon.

He reached his other hand out for Amelia who walked one step in front of him as they headed to the house they were viewing. The agent had already told (Y/n) and Eddie about the house and she was stood inside, but she wouldn't hound or pester them. She had said they were more than welcome to look around with the kids and see what they all thought.

(Y/n) kept hold of Paul's hand and followed inside after Chris, while Eddie and the girls were already inside looking around the kitchen.

They steered into the front room first and (Y/n) liked how Paul tugged her towards the bay window. She had a feeling he was looking out the window because they always had Halloween and Christmas decorations up in the windows and this window was ample for decorations.

"Mum, patio doors." Chris looked behind him before he pointed ahead. The living room was open and led right into the back room that Chris guessed they would use as a dining room. And there were two large patio doors leading out into the garden.

The garden looked big. There was a stone patio that led onto a grass verge and lots of flowers dotted around. There was space for their games, trampoline and the pool they always got out in the summer.

"It's good, hm?"

Chris nodded his head eagerly and moved to look out the back doors, catching a glance of his dad who was roaming the kitchen with Tilly chatting his ear off. And Amelia was looking round with a smile on her face, her fingertips tracing the counters and the cupboards for the sensations.

"Let's head upstairs." Pressing a kiss to the side of Tilly's temple, Eddie bounced her in his arm and held his free hand out for Chris who advanced over towards him.

He grinned when he saw the smile creep onto Chris's face when he saw the stairs. They never had stairs in their old house in Texas, neither did Eddie's parents. Chris had never had to walk up stairs to get to his bedroom and instead of feeling daunted, he felt thrilled.

Both his hands moved out to plant on either wall to balance himself, but when he looked back at his dad, Eddie's smile softened. He wove his free arm around Chris's waist and hoisted him up off his feet to carry both him and Tilly up the stairs.

"If this is the house we get, I'll add rails up the stairs." Eddie would drill some handrails onto both walls so Chris had something to stabalise himself with and help him up the stairs.

He could walk up stairs at the doctor's office or in museums, it just took Chris a while longer to get up. They picked a bungalow when they came to LA because it was easier, not because Chris couldn't manage it. But if they wanted more rooms, a two story house was more ideal. Steps would help with physio for him now he was getting older.

"Mummy." Once Amelia trotted upstairs after Eddie, Paul twisted to look at (Y/n) and when she hummed, he let go of her hand in favour of holding his arms out towards her.

"Don't tell me your legs can't carry you up the stairs." Both (Y/n)'s hands moved to her hips and she rose a brow as she looked down at her younger boy.

The way he frowned made her heart seize up and when he stomped his foot and whined, (Y/n) sighed. She leaned down and scooped him up, sitting him on her hip. She felt the way his leg smoothed up and down her stomach and he looked down with a perplexed expression like her bump was suddenly in his way. She was starting to show now and (Y/n) had a feeling that Paul was starting to get a bit jealous.

She pressed her free hand to the wall as she headed up stairs, making sure not to lean back so she didn't put herself off balance. The last thing they needed was a trip to the emergency room.

"Who would get which room?" Amelia looked around the landing, there was quite a lot of space upstairs and there looked to be a few rooms up here which was promising. And she knew her parents had come to look around the house last week. They had been to a few houses, but this was the first one the kids had been able to look round which meant they thought this was a prime candidate.

"Okay, me and your mum would have this room." Eddie turned to the right and moved over to the door at the far end of the hall. He headed inside and looked around as the kids followed suit and piled in.

When his eyes landed on (Y/n) he pursed his lips and looked at Paul who was cuddled up in her arms. She wasn't supposed to be carrying any of the kids, not now she was nineteen weeks along with twins.

Eddie set Tilly down to her feet so she could roam around and he loved how she peered into the walk-in wardrobe like she thought it would lead her to Narnia.

Once the kids nodded and inspected the room, Eddie moved back into the hall and pointed to the next room closest to theirs. "The twins would be in here."

They would have to have the twins room as close to theirs as possible. For the first few months, the twins would be in their room anyway for night feeds and settling them to bed. But after that, they would still have to be close by to be settled to bed and changed and looked after.

The room was a decent size with a small built-in wardrobe in the corner and a lilac carpet that looked almost brand new. The good thing about this house was that they wouldn't need to add any new carpets or change the laminate flooring downstairs which was one less job. It would just be painting and wallpapering the rest of the house, depending on what the kids wanted their rooms to look like.

"Lia, this one would be yours baby." (Y/n) juggled Paul a bit higher on her hip as he was starting to become heavy but she knew he didn't want to be set down yet. She reached her hand out for Amelia and pointed to the room opposite what would be the twins room. The one next to her and Eddie's room.

They let her wander in first, apprehension and excitement bubbling up inside of her as she headed in. It was a smaller room since she wouldn't be sharing and the twins would need more space, but the room was still a decent size for her bed and desk and tv and craft supplies. There was a quaint square window at the far end of the room, and when she turned to the right to look at the small space beside the door, she gasped.

There was a built-in vanity and mirror behind the door, perfect for her jewellery and make up.

"I like this one." She nodded her head as she did a rotation in the middle of the room.

When she leaned to look in the hallway, she reached out and took Eddie's hand, tugging him a bit closer to her. He tilted his head to the side, silently asking what was playing on her mind as he could see something hidden within her eyes.

"You'd hear if I seized in the night, right?" She had been nervous when they talked about moving house that her bedroom might be on the opposite side of the house to her parents. And she feared not sharing a room with Tilly and seizing during the night with no one nearby to help or hear.

She wanted a room of her own, Amelia was the eldest and she wanted her own space. All her friends at school got their own rooms, especially if they were the elder child. But she was always scared about having a seizure when she was alone, it was one of the reasons she wasn't left home alone.

"We'd hear you, Carino, don't worry. That's why this would be your room, so we're next door, and you can keep the guard on your bed."

Eddie and (Y/n) had already agreed that the twins and Amelia had to be near them. Tilly, Paul and Chris didn't need assistance during the night and they slept through the night so there was no issue of them having rooms further away from their parents. The twins and Amelia had to be nearby for emergencies and help during the night. And Amelia wanted the guard rail back on her bed after the seizure activity she'd been experiencing lately.

Eddie pecked Amelia's temple and squeezed her hand before they headed over to look at the bathroom. It was a decent sized room with a bath on the left side and a decent sized shower on the right. That was good for Amelia as she was reduced to only taking a bath if (Y/n) could be in the room with her as she was at risk of drowning if she seized in the bath.

(Y/n) took Tilly's hand and indicated for Chris to follow as they headed past the stairs to the landing on the left side where there were a further two rooms. These rooms were admittedly smaller, but it still have the kids space of their own.

"Tilly, you'd have this room." The room was rather compact but it was long with a rectangular shape rather than a box or square. It was enough for her bed, a small wardrobe and all her toys and her dolls house.

The little girl seemed equally excited to have her own room as she started to jump up and down and moved straight over to the window to see what she could look at. She had a view of the back garden, something which clearly made her smile. Tilly wanted her own room, she hated playing in her room if Amelia was there whereas here she would be able to chatter to her toys and mess around without being observed. And if Amelia woke during the night, it wouldn't disturb Tilly's sleep.

"What about us, do we have to share a room?" Chris was already stepping out into the hall and pointing towards the last bedroom up here.

This was a big house, with five bedrooms upstairs and Chris guessed if the girls had their own rooms, then he and Paul would still have to share. It wouldn't be such a bad thing, Paul liked sharing a room, but Chris couldn't deny that it would be fun to have a space to himself.

"Not if you don't want to." The smile on (Y/n)'s face intrigued Chris as he watched his mum open the bedroom door.

This room and Tilly's room were the same size, both the smallest of them all but still more than enough considering all the kids had shared rooms with each other for the last four years.

"There's a small room downstairs right next to the stairs and kitchen, we can make that a bedroom so you boys get to have a room each."

Just past the stairs before the kitchen there was a small box room on the left. It wasn't very big, but it was the perfect size for a bedroom and it meant almost all the kids would have their own room, only the twins would have to share which didn't seem like it would be an issue in the future.

"Paul, baby I think you'd have the room downstairs." (Y/n) nudged Paul up and down on her hip as she stood in the hall while Chris happily headed into the room that would be his if they chose this house.

It would be easier to have Chris upstairs so when he had a bath and got ready for bed, he wouldn't have to always hurry up and down the stairs. And he was often heading to the toilet during the night and with the bathroom being upstairs, it would be easier.

"No." A low whine left Paul's lips and he suddenly tightened his arms around (Y/n)'s neck causing her to groan. She began smoothing her hand up and down his neck, but when he started to wriggle and swing his legs, she leaned over.

She carefully set him down to his feet which immediately began to stomp on the carpeted floor and he grabbed (Y/n)'s leg, pressing into her like he was trying to topple them both over.

"What, you don't want your own room baby?"

"Not away from you! No! Put Lia downstairs." Another whine clawed at the back of his throat and when when he saw his dad and big sister walking out the bathroom, he pointed over at her.

She was the eldest, she could go downstairs. Paul didn't want to be down there when everyone else would have rooms upstairs. Especially not when his room would be the furthest away from his parents, that didn't seem fair. What if he wanted help during the night? What if he wanted to go into their room? He would have to scuttle all the way up stairs in the dark to get to them.

(Y/n) bit her lip and crouched down in front of him, pressing her bump into her thighs as she reached out for Paul's sides. But he continued to point and wail with tears welling up in his eyes.

"Baby, Lia has to be near us in case she's not well in the night, you'd be right downstairs, not far away-"

"It- it's not fair." With another wail, Paul pointed towards (Y/n)'s stomach and waved his hand, indicating to the twins. They were getting priority, their room was closest to their parents and he didn't like it. Paul didn't exactly need to be close to them during the night, and it wasn't as if he was being made to live in an out-house in the garden or far, far away. He was right downstairs, right below them. But he wasn't happy.

Twisting to the right, (Y/n) looked up at Eddie who was trying his best to smother a smile.

She had been right. He was getting jealous.

Letting go of Amelia's hand, Eddie moved forward when Paul continued to blubber and point at (Y/n)'s tummy as if it would do anything to remedy the situation.

He leaned down and scooped Paul up, stopping him from stomping his foot on the floor and throwing a small tantrum. He cuddled Paul into his chest and moved towards the stairs which caused the five year old to pause in his wails, unsure where he was now being taken.

"Come on soldier, let's take a look at your room. Having your own room means you pick the colour, you can have posters and shelves for your trucks and toys. What colour do you want your room, hm?"

Eddie kissed Paul's cheek as he got to the bottom step and turned left, aiming for the small room that was perfect for Paul, even if he didn't think so yet.

"But- but-"

"No buts, no getting jealous over the new babies, okay? Everyone gets their own room here, it's all fair and me and mummy need the twins with us, unless you wanna get up during the night to change a dirty nappy. Now I bet you want a bright orange room, right?"

"No! Purple room."

The five year old had already stopped crying and was now thinking of what he would like the room to be. His and Chris's room back home was blue and green with gaming stickers on the walls and night light stars stuck on the ceiling because Chris loved space. But Paul could have his room however he wanted it, and that was exciting, even if he would be the only one with a room downstairs.

(Y/n) moved her hand to her back to click it into place, but she looked over at the kids when Amelia moved towards her and Chris was already grabbing her hand, excitedly pulling on her arm.

"Is this the one?" Amelia's smile and that sparkle in her eye gave away the fact that she wanted this to be the house they picked.

It was the perfect size, the rooms meant everyone didn't have to share and they all got their own space. Downstairs was spacious, the garden was great and it was a quiet house. Plus, there was space between them and the neighbours so they wouldn't hear the neighbours arguing like they did back home.

"I think this is the one, baby."

***

Tilting back, (Y/n) leaned her shoulders back into the headboard and slowly uncurled her legs that had been crossed beneath her for far too long. Her toes curled and her feet bent as she straightened out and clicked her spine into place in the process.

A grin spread on her lips when the bedroom door opened and she looked over at Eddie. His hair was sopping wet and forming into hundreds of curls which flopped all across his temple and near his ears. He had a towel slung around the back of his neck like a scarf and a pair of boxers strapped on his hips, showing he'd just been for a shower.

She loved the smirk on his face when he caught her eye but when Eddie caught his foot on one of the many boxes littering their bedroom, (Y/n) couldn't help but laugh. Her hand moved to smother her lips as Eddie stumbled, reaching his hand out on the end of the bed so he didn't fall flat on his face.

"Something funny?" He muttered with a sly grin as he clambered onto the end of the bed and began crawling up over her legs.

"Have a nice trip?" She knew it was cheesy and a gasp tumbled past her lips when Eddie's hands moved to her sides and he started dragging the tip of his index finger along her waist. He knew exactly where to make her ticklish and he loved the way her legs nudged against his knees as he hovered over her thighs.

(Y/n) ceased his actions by cupping his damp face in her hands and pulling him in for a kiss. Her teeth nipped at his lower lip and she felt his hands stop tickling her in favour of cupping her hip and tracing one hand along her bump to feel for the twins.

"What're you up to?" Eddie muttered against her lips before he traced his kisses down her jaw and attached to her neck instead. He looked across to his side of the bed that was currently occupied by garments and clothes and onesies all laid out in piles.

"Seeing what we can use again."

Eddie leaned his cheek on (Y/n)'s shoulder so he could look at what she had gotten out.

There were a few things they had kept from when Paul was a baby, mostly as keepsakes. There were a lot of Winnie The Pooh onesies, bibs and little hats as Chris had helped pick them all out.

Reaching out, Eddie skimmed his fingers across the small pink dress next to (Y/n) as a smile danced across his face. "I remember this one."

It was a dress with a frill at the bottom and across the middle, it read 'Daddy's Princess' with a crown beneath it. That was one that Buck had given them once they had Tilly and learned they had another girl. They always waited until the birth to find out the genders and this was no different, they didn't want to know yet.

"Hm, I like that one." (Y/n) leaned across to peck his cheek. She remembered that was a favourite that Eddie would always put Tilly in if he was the one dressing her each day. She lived in that dress for the first few months and (Y/n) couldn't bear to throw it out once Tilly outgrew it.

"Let's hope we have at least one girl in here then." Eddie leaned back on his heels so his hands could cup (Y/n)'s stomach.

He tilted forward so he could press his lips to her bump. Eddie knew the team were starting to take bets on what gender the babies would be. He himself didn't care, but he thought it would be rather fitting if they had a boy and a girl, then they would have three of each.

"It's a good job we kept Tilly's cot in the attic." She murmured quietly, watching a look flash over Eddie's devilish eyes.

"Hm, intuition."

Neither of them were sure why they kept Tilly's cot once she grew out of it. Granted, she had not long gotten her big girl bed, but instead of selling the cot or giving it away, Eddie just put it up in the attic to be dealt with later. It must have been intuition that Tilly just might not be their last baby after all. And now it meant they only had to get one more cot as opposed to getting two new ones.

(Y/n) began to card her fingers through Eddie's hair when he shifted round to lay between her legs. She loved the sweet smile on his lips and the hazy look in his eyes when he rested his chin on her stomach so he could look up at her.

She brushed the damp locks away from his temple and started to ruffle and style them while the tv blurred some strange tv show in the background.

All the kids had boxes in their rooms and the living room was piled high with bags and suitcases and boxes. In three days, they were officially moving out. Last week, (Y/n), Eddie and Hen had been to the new house and decorated the living room and the kid's rooms. They had painted and wallpapered, knowing it would be much easier to decorate first before they officially got the kids moved in. And Hen had been more than happy to help.

"Mummy, my teddy-" Tilly pushed open the bedroom door with one of her teddies tucked under her arm. She only had a few teddies left on her bed as every other toy had been plugged away ready for the move.

But when she moved towards the bed and realised Eddie was laid on (Y/n), her little eyes narrowed and she stood right at the side of the bed next to them.

Twisting his head to the left, Eddie leaned his cheek against (Y/n)'s bump to look down at their youngest.

"What's up, princess?"

"What you doing?" There was an accusing tone in Tilly's confused words and she pinned her teddy tighter to her chest as she waited impatiently for an answer. Her stern demanour made (Y/n)'s lips form into a grin and she felt Eddie chuckling quietly against her.

"Giving the babies a kiss, why?" To make his point, Eddie turned his head and pressed another sloppy kiss to (Y/n)'s stomach.

The three year old frowned deeply at Eddie's actions and when she took notice of the baby clothes and the blankets scattered on the bed, she looked increadibly put out. All of a sudden, Tilly tossed her teddy to the floor and stomped her foot down on the carpet which made a small echo around the room now that it was practically bare.

Eddie rolled his lips together, doing his best to supress his grin at how amusing Tilly looked when she got stroppy. And he could feel (Y/n)'s fingers pausing through his hair and she let out a little chuckle.

"No. I'm the baby."

Her words were affirmative and her little hands clenched into fists, but it was the tears bubbling up in her eyes that made Eddie's heart jump. She was used to being the youngest and having everyone refer to her as the baby. With them having four kids, Amelia was referred to as the eldest and Tilly was always called the baby.

Even when Eddie's parents rung up almost every week to see how the kids were, they were used to saying 'how's the baby?' or 'how's the little one' and Tilly absolutely loved it. She loved when Eddie told everyone she was his baby, but now she was starting to realise that two new babies in the family meant she wouldn't be the littlest anymore.

She wouldn't be the baby of the family, there would be two new siblings younger than her for the family to fuss over, and she didn't like the sound of that.

"You're not the only baby, princess." Eddie watched with amusement as Tilly stomped her foot again before she tried to clamber onto the bed. She climbed over the back of his legs, causing him to groan, until she was on her knees in the middle of the bed at their side.

"I'm the baby." She almost whined before she flopped into (Y/n)'s arm and tried to burrow into her.

"No, we've got two more babies in here. But you're the only princess." Eddie pecked her cheek to try and soften her up. It had been a long time since he'd called Amelia 'princess', she always preferred Eddie calling her Carino and when she had been younger she especially loved when Eddie would call her beautiful.

Tilly huffed and looked like she might even burst into tears, but being the one and only princess was almost as good as being the only baby.

She burrowed her face into (Y/n)'s chest and started to wriggle around while Eddie went back to leaning his cheek on (Y/n)'s stomach so he could look at the tv. His hands idly ran up and down her waist but his eyes glanced back to Tilly when she started to move. Her knees coiled up, but she suddenly started to prod her hand at (Y/n)'s stomach.

"What're you doing?" (Y/n) began to card her fingers through Tilly's hair, feeling utterly loved by having her youngest cuddling into her and Eddie laid on top of her glued to her frame like this. Although it was strange to feel Tilly prodding and poking at her stomach.

"Babies are in the way." She huffed with an unhappy expression, but her eyes widened and she gasped when she poked (Y/n)'s tummy and felt a kick in response.

Her eyes darted to look over at Eddie who lifted his cheek from (Y/n)'s bump to press his lips there instead.

"Ooh, you've woken them up now." He murmured just to see the way Tilly's eyes widened and she started to rub (Y/n)'s bump rather than prod at her. Clearly trying to soothe them instead in case she would get into trouble for waking them up.

[honeyncherry]

Through the Looking Glass - One

Rafe Cameron x Reader

content: drinking, tension (rafe likes to look at you)

word count: 6k

prologue

The last time you set foot in a new school, you were nine years old. Your father had sent you off to a prestigious boarding school halfway across the country. Though it wasn’t a school, not really. It was more like a factory, cold and unyielding, designed to shape children from high-profile government families into the next generation of leaders and operatives. The halls were filled with future politicians, intelligence agents, and power brokers. Each was more intense, more cutthroat, and more determined than the last.

Breaks were a luxury you couldn’t afford. The instructors were strict to the point of being merciless, expecting perfection and punishing anything less. The curriculum was relentless, grinding you down and reshaping you into something sharp and efficient. There were no sleepovers or giggling with friends, no carefree afternoons in the park. Just drills, evaluations, and endless expectations. You learned quickly how to suppress your emotions, to quiet the part of you that wanted to cry or rebel. 

You became what they wanted: disciplined, composed, and ready to take orders. But walking onto the University of North Carolina’s campus felt like stepping into another universe. 

The differences were staggering, almost surreal. Where the boarding school had been rigid and sterile, UNC was alive, teeming with energy and freedom. Some students sprawled out on blankets under monstrous oak trees, laughing and playing games of spikeball in the sunshine, while others sat in their own study groups more focused on gossiping about who was interested in whom than working on their essays.

The buildings, their brick facades draped in ivy, stood proud yet inviting, as though welcoming you into a new chapter of your life. It was a world you’d only ever viewed from a distance, in movies or fleeting glimpses during missions. It felt chaotic, free, and utterly alien to you.

UNC wasn’t just one of the country’s top business schools; it was also renowned for its vibrant social scene. Greek Row was the epicenter of it all, alive with parties that raged late into the night, music spilling into the streets. On game days, tailgates transformed the campus into a sprawling festival, with canopies, kegs, and mini grills crowding every open space. Each weekend brought something new to celebrate, another excuse to gather and let loose. It was a world you could barely imagine fitting into, let alone navigating by yourself.

But you didn’t have to imagine. You’d been preparing for this moment for nearly a year. From the second the case file landed on your desk, you’d immersed yourself in everything UNC had to offer. You memorized its culture, its traditions, and even its most recent scandals. You knew which bars on Franklin Street were the most popular on Thursday nights, which fraternity houses held the most exclusive parties, and which sororities had the most influence. You even learned the best shortcuts through campus, routes that would let you avoid campus police or slip away unnoticed.

Your apartment was a short ten-minute walk from the heart of campus. On the surface, it seemed ordinary: a modest brick complex tucked away on a quiet, tree-lined street. But as you approached, the details stood out. The doorman, Johnny, was the first clue. He wasn’t just a friendly face stationed at the entrance — he was part of the agency, placed there to keep an eye on you. Whether his presence was meant to protect you or monitor you was unclear, but it didn’t matter. Either way, it offered a small sense of security in an otherwise unsettling situation.

Johnny greeted you with a polite nod as you entered, his expression neutral. You returned the gesture with a tight smile, the kind that didn’t reach your eyes. It wasn’t personal; you simply couldn’t afford to let your guard down. Not here. Not yet.

The elevator ride to the third floor was quiet, the soft hum of the machinery filling the space. When the doors slid open, you stepped into a hallway lined with neutral-toned carpeting and soft overhead lighting. Your apartment was at the end of the hall. The space was small but well-appointed, with sleek, modern furniture, warm lighting, and a fully stocked kitchen. It looked nothing like the cramped dorms you’d read about in your research, where freshmen shared tiny rooms and whispered secrets late into the night. 

You set your bag down just inside the door, taking a moment to absorb your surroundings. This was it. Your new life. For the next semester you wouldn’t be the girl forged in the cold, unyielding halls of your past. You’d become a confident, ambitious, college girl who blended seamlessly into this bright, chaotic world. 

The girl who walked into this apartment was no longer a government agent’s daughter or a product of a childhood spent in the shadows of high-stakes operations. She was a girl who went to all the football games and studied on the quad. Someone who danced under neon lights at Sigma Chi parties and laughed too loudly with friends in the library.

At least, that’s who you needed to be.

You crossed the room and pulled open the blinds, letting the golden light of the setting sun flood the space. From here, you could see the edges of campus. Students moved in clusters, their voices carrying faintly through the evening air. Somewhere out there, Rafe Cameron was waiting.

You’d seen his face a hundred times in the photos tucked inside his dossier. From the cocky smirk, the piercing blue eyes, the sleek buzzed blonde hair, it was all etched into your memory. You knew his routines, his weaknesses, his tells. You’d studied him like a final exam, preparing for the moment you’d meet him in person. Yet, as you stared out at the campus, a knot of unease twisted in your stomach.

Because no amount of training could prepare you for what came next. This wasn’t just another assignment you sat on the sidelines of, watching every move, critiquing every wrong step. It was your very own assignment. The decade long case you were meant to crack. And this was Rafe Cameron, the key to the entire operation.

You let out a slow breath, your fingers gripping the edge of the windowsill. The world outside seemed so vibrant, so full of life, but you knew better than to get swept up in it. This wasn’t about fun or freedom. It was about the mission. The stakes were too high to let anything distract you.

You turned away from the window, the sound of your sandals clicking softly against the polished wood floors as you moved back toward your bag. Somewhere deep inside, a flicker of doubt tried to take hold, but you pushed it down. You couldn’t afford doubt.

Brooke O’Brien was UNC’s very own Barbie doll. The kind of girl who seemed almost too perfect, her presence glowing with an effortless charisma that felt more polished than natural. Maybe it was her blonde curls and doll-like hazel eyes, or the way she lit up every room she entered with an energy that was both magnetic and overwhelming. Either way, she was someone people both admired and envied in equal measure.

To you, Brooke was… a lot. Too much, maybe. But that didn’t matter. She was your way in. If there was one person you needed to befriend, it was Brooke O’Brien.

When you saw her crossing the quad toward you, waving enthusiastically, you braced yourself. Her dazzling smile and quick pace made it seem like nothing could stop her.

“Wow!” she called out, her voice ringing through the crowd. “It’s so great to finally meet you!”

Before you could react, she had thrown her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. Caught off guard, you hesitated for only a moment before hugging her back. If she was this excited, then so were you. Or at least, that’s what you had to make her believe.

“Totally,” you said, pulling back with your best gleaming smile. “Everyone here already seems so friendly.”

Brooke’s laugh was light and airy, the kind of laugh that made you want to laugh along even if you didn’t know what was funny. “Oh, honey, you don’t even know! UNC is, like, the friendliest place on Earth. You’re going to love it here, I promise.”

She slipped her arm through yours without hesitation, as though you’d been best friends for years, and began guiding you across the quad. Her energy was infectious, and you found yourself grateful for how easy she made it to keep up the act.

“So,” she said, turning her head to study you, “first impressions? Be honest.”

“It’s... a lot,” you admitted, your gaze sweeping over the bustling campus. “But in a good way.”

Brooke beamed. “That’s what I like to hear! College is supposed to be a lot. It’s all about finding yourself, you know? And trust me, UNC is the perfect place for that.”

You smiled politely, wondering if the line about "finding yourself" was something she said to everyone or if she actually believed it. Still, it was hard not to be drawn in by her enthusiasm.

As she gestured toward a row of buildings, pointing out the arts building and student union, she glanced at you curiously. “So, tell me about your last school. What was it like?”

The question was casual, but your stomach tightened all the same. You’d been preparing for this, practicing your answers until they felt natural, but it was still unnerving to hear it aloud. “Oh, it was... fine,” you said with a small shrug. “A lot smaller than this. Not as lively.”

Brooke tilted her head, her curls bouncing slightly. “Really? Where’d you go again?”

“Uh, Hawthorne College,” you said, dropping the name of the small liberal arts school the agency had assigned to your cover story. “It was nice, but it didn’t really feel like the right fit.”

Brooke nodded knowingly. “Oh, I totally get that. Sometimes you just need a fresh start, you know? That’s what I love about UNC — it’s, like, impossible not to find your people here.”

You nodded along, grateful that she didn’t press further. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

“You will,” Brooke said firmly, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “College is all about reinventing yourself. I mean, when I got here, I was, like, so shy. Couldn’t even raise my hand in class without turning bright red.”

You raise an eyebrow, struggling to imagine Brooke as anything less than radiant and self-assured. “Really?”

“Okay, maybe not that shy,” she admits with a laugh. “But still, this college changes you. In the best way. You’ll see.”

As she leads you through the quad, Brooke chats non-stop, pointing out landmarks and weaving in bits of campus gossip like it’s second nature. You nod along, doing your best to look captivated while mentally filing away the information that might actually be useful.

Brooke’s warmth was disarming, a sharp contrast to the cold precision you’d been trained to embody since becoming a pre-teen. For a moment, you wondered if it was genuine or if everyone here wore their own kind of mask. Either way, letting your guard down wasn’t an option, not even with the sweet and charming Brooke O’Brien. Not with so much riding on this. 

“That’s the library,” Brooke says, gesturing toward an imposing brick building covered in ivy. “You’ll spend way too much time there during finals. Oh, and over there—” she points to a cluster of tables shaded by oak trees, “—that’s where the serious study groups hang out. They’re, like, terrifyingly intense. But if you ever need help with a project, that’s the place to go.”

You nod, making a mental note. “Good to know.”

Brooke stops suddenly, spinning to face you with wide eyes. “Wait! I have to introduce you to my favorite place on campus.”

Without waiting for a response, she grabs your hand and pulls you toward a small café tucked into the corner of the quad. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hits you as soon as you step inside, and you can’t help but feel a small pang of appreciation. For all her energy, Brooke seems genuinely excited to share this with you.

“Isn’t it cute?” she gushes, gesturing toward the mismatched chairs and cozy lighting. “I swear, their iced caramel macchiatos are life-changing. And if you ever need a good place to study, this is it.”

“Noted,” you say, allowing a small smile to slip through. It’s hard not to truly warm up to her enthusiasm, even if you’re supposed to be keeping people at arm's length.

The two of you grab drinks before heading back outside, and as you settle onto a bench near the quad, Brooke leans in conspiratorially. “Okay, so now that you’ve got the basics, it’s time for the fun stuff.”

You tilt your head, feigning curiosity. “Oh?”

“My friends,” she says with a grin. “You’re going to love them. Well, most of them.”

She launched into a detailed rundown of her friend group as the two of you sat and enjoyed your drinks. You had to admit, the coffee rivaled anything you’d had in the city.

“Okay, so first there’s Maddie, she’s my best friend. She’s super sweet, but, like, don’t get on her bad side. She’ll smile while ripping you to shreds, and you won’t even realize it until it’s too late.”

You chuckled, making a mental note of Maddie’s name.

“Then there’s Sabrina,” Brooke continued. “She’s the fun one. She can make anyone dance, even if they swear they don’t dance. Seriously, she could probably convince a statue to do the Cupid Shuffle.”

You smiled, appreciating the way Brooke’s tone shifted slightly with each new person she described. It was obvious she genuinely cared about them.

“And then there’s Liam,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “He’s... complicated. Kind of a wild card, but in a good way. He’s always down for an adventure. Like, last week, he tried to convince us all to go skydiving. At midnight. I don’t even think that’s legal.”

Your brows lifted. “Sounds interesting.”

“Oh, he is,” Brooke said with a knowing grin. “But don’t worry. He’s harmless.” She hesitated for a moment, her expression shifting slightly. “And, um, Chase. We’ve been... talking. Kind of.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking up slightly. “Talking?”

“Okay, maybe more than talking,” Brooke admitted, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. “He’s cute, but, like, he can be so frustrating sometimes. He has this thing where he just disappears for days and then texts me like nothing happened. But whatever. It’s not serious.”

The slight edge in her voice suggested otherwise, but you didn’t press. “He sounds... nice?”

Brooke laughed, rolling her eyes. “He is. When he wants to be.” She paused for a moment, her expression shifting. “And then there’s Rafe.”

Your heartbeat quickened at the mention of his name, but you kept your face carefully neutral. “What’s he like?”

Brooke hesitated, as though searching for the right words. “He’s complicated too. Intense, definitely. But once you get to know him, he’s one of the most loyal people you’ll ever meet.”

She took a sip of her drink, her brows knitting together. “Lately, though, he’s been in a mood. Something about a girl he was seeing. But he won’t talk about it. Anyway, he invited everyone to a sports bar tonight, so maybe he’s trying to shake it off.”

You nodded, keeping your expression casual even as your thoughts raced. A girl? That wasn’t in the file. Who was she, and what did she mean to him?

Brooke’s face brightened again, and she reached out to squeeze your arm. “You should come! It’ll be fun, and you can meet everyone.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said, feigning reluctance. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Are you kidding?” Brooke laughed. “You’re not intruding. You’re with me now, and trust me, they’ll love you. Besides, I’ll pick you up, so you have no excuse.”

You let out a small laugh, unable to resist her enthusiasm. “Okay, fine. I’ll come.”

“Yay!” Brooke clapped her hands together. “This is going to be so much fun. Text me your address and I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”

Later that evening, after carefully choosing an outfit, you stood by the window. The campus nightlife flickered to life below, a vibrant pulse that felt both foreign and inviting. When Brooke’s text came through, your breath caught for a moment before you grabbed your bag and headed down.

She waved excitedly as you approached, her pristine convertible parked at an angle, music thumping from the speakers like it was an extension of her energy.

You climbed into the passenger seat with a bright smile and as she pulled away, she launched into another flurry of conversation. This time, it was all about classes, professors, Chase, and her favorite spots on Franklin Street.

“I swear,” she said, shaking her head, “Professor Klein is the worst. Like, don’t even bother trying to win her over. Just turn in your essays on time and pray for a C.”

You laughed, relaxing slightly as Brooke’s chatter filled the car. For all her energy, there was something undeniably comforting about her. It was easy to see how she’d become the center of her friend group — and why she was exactly who you needed on your side.

When the sports bar came into view, its neon lights glowing against the night sky, Brooke turned to you with a grin. “Ready to meet the crew?”

You nodded, your stomach tightening with anticipation. “Let’s do it.”

The moment you stepped inside, the bar thrummed with life, a cacophony of laughter, clinking glasses, and thumping bass. The mingling scents of fried food and beer created a sensory overload that left you slightly off balance 

This was nothing like the polished, controlled environments of stuffy dinners with your father and his colleagues. Here, the chaos was unfiltered: crop tops and cutoff shorts replaced formal evening wear, discount beer flowed from taps instead of martinis, and greasy nachos piled high replaced hors d'oeuvres served on silver platters.

Brooke led the way, weaving through the crowd like she’d done it a hundred times before, her confidence a beacon in the chaos. You followed closely, trying not to bump into too many shoulders as you glanced around, taking it all in. Groups of students laughed loudly, some leaning over the tables to shout above the music, others already swaying slightly from one too many drinks.

“Over here!” Brooke chirped, pointing toward a table in the corner where three people were already seated. As you got closer, you could make out two girls and a guy, all of them mid-conversation and laughing.

“This is them!” Brooke said, practically bouncing on her toes as she gestured to the group. “Guys, this is the girl I was telling you about.”

The girl with dark, pin-straight hair was the first to look up, her sharp look flicking over you before her lips curved into a welcoming smile. “Hey! I’m Sabrina. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” you said, returning the smile as she reached out for a quick handshake. Her grip was warm but firm, and she had this effortless confidence that instantly put you at ease.

The guy beside her leaned back in his chair, his grin easy and a little mischievous as he said, “I’m Liam. You must be the new girl Brooke’s been hyping up.”

You laughed lightly, glancing at Brooke. “I guess so.”

“Don’t worry,” Liam added, raising his beer. “If you can survive Brooke, you’ll fit right in.”

“Shut up, Liam,” Brooke said with a roll of her eyes, though her smile didn’t falter. “And this,” she added, gesturing toward the last girl at the table, “is Maddie.”

Maddie’s sharp gaze flicked over you, her crossed arms and measured tone making it clear she wasn’t quick to warm up. “Hey,” she said, her words as neutral as her expression.

“Hi,” you replied. Maddie didn’t smile, her silence sharper than words, and you couldn’t help but feel like she was sizing you up.

Brooke patted the seat beside her, breaking the moment. “Come on, sit! I’ll grab us drinks in a second.”

As you slid into the booth, the group’s chatter flowed easily around you. Sabrina asked about your classes, Liam cracked jokes that drew groans from Brooke, and even Maddie softened slightly, her dry humor slipping through now and then.

But as the night went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something, or someone, was missing.

“Where’s Chase?” Brooke asked suddenly, leaning closer to Sabrina and Maddie.

Maddie smirked, tilting her head toward the bar. “Over there. He’s with Rafe.”

Your stomach tightened as you followed her eye line, scanning the crowd until your eyes found them. Chase was easy to spot, leaning against the counter, his grin wide and animated as he chatted with the bartender. He was exactly as you’d seen in the photos: open, carefree, the life of any conversation.

But the man beside him was a different story.

Rafe Cameron was the kind of person whose presence you felt before you saw him. His presence preceded him, tangible and charged, like the static before a storm. He stood at ease, resting his arms on the bartop, his sharp features caught in the dim light that carved shadows along his jawline. When his eyes found yours, it wasn’t a question, it was a statement: I see you.

The air shifted. The sounds of the bar faded into a dull hum. His intensity sent a ripple through you, one you couldn’t quite name. You hadn’t expected this — not from a man you’d studied for months, memorized through pages and pages of official documents. Yet here he was, impossibly real and entirely unsettling.

There was no smile, no casual acknowledgment, just a quiet intensity that felt like it was meant to see past every carefully constructed layer.

“He’s looking at you,” Brooke murmured, her voice low and tinged with amusement as she leaned in closer.

You blinked, breaking the moment as you turned to her. “Who?”

She smirked knowingly, her view flicking back toward the bar. “Rafe. I told you, he’s intense.”

Your pulse quickened as you stole another glance. Rafe was still angled toward you, though his focus had shifted momentarily to Chase, who was speaking beside him. He didn’t respond to whatever Chase had said, his attention half-turned as though occupied by something else entirely.

Brooke’s playful tone broke the spell and you turned your attention back to the table, willing yourself to focus. But even as you smiled and joined the group’s chatter, Rafe’s gaze lingered in your mind like an unfinished thought.

“Okay,” Sabrina said, breaking through your thoughts. “So, tell me… what’s your major?”

You blinked, grateful for the distraction as you turned toward her. “Communications,” you replied, the answer smooth and practiced. “I was studying it at my last school, so it made sense to stick with it here.”

“Smart choice,” Liam chimed in, resting his elbows on the table. “You could probably out-talk all of us, huh?”

“Definitely me,” Brooke interjected with a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose an argument, Liam.”

“That’s because I don’t lose,” he said, lifting his beer in mock celebration.

“Oh, please,” Maddie cut in, her tone dry. “You lose all the time. You just don’t know it.”

The group laughed, and you found yourself smiling despite the underlying tension still buzzing in your chest. Sabrina drew closer, her curiosity apparent. “Why communications, though? What’s the endgame?”

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “I guess I like the idea of... connecting with people,” you said carefully. “Understanding how they think, how they move and work. How to utilize that to your advantage. It’s fascinating.”

Sabrina nodded, her smile genuine. “I get that. Honestly, it sounds way more interesting than my major. I’m stuck in econ.”

“Econ’s useful,” Liam said, shrugging. “You’ll be the one bailing us all out when we screw up our taxes.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what economics is,” Maddie muttered, though her lips twitched into a small smile.

The conversation flowed easily after that, with Sabrina asking about your transition to UNC and Liam tossing out lighthearted quips that kept the mood buoyant. Even Maddie seemed to loosen up a bit more, though her sharp watch still flicked toward you now and then, like she was assessing your place in the group.

Just as you were beginning to relax, you felt a shift in the air, subtle but undeniable. The energy at the table changed, the noise around you seeming to dim as two familiar figures approached. You glanced up instinctively, your breath catching as Rafe and Chase came into view.

Chase was the first to speak, his grin wide and easy as he set a tray of drinks on the table. “Miss us?”

“Finally!” Brooke said, clapping her hands together. “What took you so long?”

“The line’s insane,” Chase replied, sliding into the booth beside her. “Be grateful we didn’t give up and just grab water.”

Rafe didn’t say anything as he followed, his movements measured and calculated. He placed a glass in front of Maddie before taking the last empty seat across from you. The table suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker, as his presence settled over the group.

Brooke leaned into Chase, nudging him playfully. “So, are you just going to ignore our new friend, or...?”

Chase’s eyes flicked to you, his grin widening. “Oh, right. You’re the transfer, right? I’m Chase. Welcome to the chaos.”

“Thanks,” you introduced yourself, your voice steady despite the way your pulse had quickened again.

“And this,” Brooke said, gesturing to the man sitting across from you, “is Rafe.”

His name lingered in the air for a beat too long, the unspoken weight of it making your chest tighten. Rafe’s gaze met yours again, the intensity in vision eyes sharper now that he was closer. His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile, more of an acknowledgment, as he nodded once.

“Hi,” you managed, your voice softer than you intended.

“Hi,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, carrying an edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

The table filled with chatter as the others picked up where they’d left off, but you barely heard it. Rafe’s watch didn’t waver, fixed on you in a way that felt deliberately unnerving, as though he wanted you to squirm. It wasn’t hostile, but it wasn't welcoming either. It was something else entirely. A silent challenge, perhaps, or a test you weren’t sure how to pass.

“So,” Chase said, drawing your attention to him. “How are you liking UNC so far?”

“It’s... different,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “Bigger than my last school, for sure.”

“Better parties, too,” Liam added, raising his drink in mock toast.

“Oh, absolutely,” Chase agreed. “Stick with us, and you’ll see the best this place has to offer.”

“She’s already stuck with us,” Brooke interjected, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’ve claimed her.”

“Possessive much?” Maddie muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in her tone now.

The laughter at the table felt like a reprieve, a momentary distraction from the way Rafe’s presence filled every corner of your awareness. Even when you weren’t looking, you could feel his eyes on you.

As the conversation continued, you risked another glance at him. He was sitting back slightly, his arms crossed over his chest, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. When your eyes met, his brow arched just slightly, as if to say caught you.

You looked away quickly, your cheeks warming despite the chill in the air-conditioned room. The tension was almost unbearable.

“Another round?” Brooke suggested, breaking the moment as she reached for her empty glass.

“Yes, please,” Sabrina said. “And get me some fries while you’re at it.”

Brooke stood, tugging Chase up with her. “Come on, you’re helping.”

Chase groaned but followed, leaving the rest of you at the table. Liam immediately launched into a story about some party mishap the night before, pulling laughter from Maddie and Sabrina. Their energy was light and easy, but your focus drifted. The conversation faded into the background as a quiet tension hummed in the air.

You absently toyed with the straw in your drink, the condensation cool against your fingertips. It wasn’t the story keeping you distracted, it was a feeling, steady and insistent, like the faint pull of a current just beneath the surface.

Your eyes flicked toward Rafe, catching him mid-motion. He leaned forward in his seat, his fingers resting lightly around his glass. His expression was unreadable, but when his eyes met yours, something shifted. His expression shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly, like he was inviting you into a silent exchange you weren’t sure you were ready for.

Before you could think better of it, you asked, “so, does he always let her boss him around like that?” You nodded toward the bar, where Chase and Brooke were deep in conversation with each other.

Rafe’s lips curved faintly into something between a smirk and a smile. “Only when it’s easier than arguing.”

His voice was low, smooth, and somehow it cut through the noise of the bar as if it were meant just for you. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he added, “Besides, Brooke likes to think she’s in charge. No harm in letting her believe it.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “Generous of you.”

He tilted his head, studying you with a casualness that felt anything but. “And you? Do you let people boss you around, or are you the one calling the shots?”

The question caught you off guard, the weight of it settling in a way that felt heavier than the words themselves. You played it off with a shrug, your voice light as you said, “I guess it depends on who’s asking.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his regard was steady and unflinching. The space between you felt charged, as though the brief exchange had opened a door you weren’t sure you wanted to walk through. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the tension shifted. Rafe leaned back again, his attention flicking to the table for a moment before returning to you.

“Fair enough,” he said simply, his tone neutral but laced with something that made your pulse quicken.

The conversation broke as Liam’s voice rose in laughter again, drawing your focus back to the group. You turned away from Rafe, but the weight of his words, and the way he’d looked at you, like he was turning over some unspoken thought, lingered in the back of your mind.

Chase and Brooke returned a few minutes later, Brooke balancing a tray of drinks with the practiced ease of someone who could do it blindfolded. Chase trailed behind her, a basket of fries in one hand and a triumphant grin on his face.

“Fries are here, ladies and gentlemen,” Chase announced, sliding the basket onto the table with exaggerated flair. “You’re welcome.”

“And drinks,” Brooke added, placing the tray down and handing out glasses. “Okay, who’s ready to have some real fun?”

Sabrina immediately perked up. “What kind of fun are we talking about?”

“Dancing, duh,” Brooke said, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she looked at you. “Come on, you’re coming with me.”

You returned her smile easily, “lead the way!”

Brooke’s grin widened. “Now that’s the energy I like! Let’s go.”

The group cheered enthusiastically as Brooke grabbed your hand, tugging you out of your seat with surprising strength and pulling you toward the dance floor with a playful urgency. The music grew louder as you wove through the crowd, the bass thrumming beneath your feet and mingling with the laughter and chatter around you. It was vibrant, intoxicating, and all too easy to step into.

The moment you reached the dance floor, you fell into the rhythm naturally. The beat pulsed through your body, every movement intentional but fluid. This was the game you were built to play, slipping into the moment, owning it, and making it look effortless.

“See?” Brooke shouted over the music as she spun to face you, her hands grabbing yours. “Isn’t this amazing?”

You laughed, matching her energy. “I get it now. Totally worth it.”

Brooke twirled herself dramatically, her curls bouncing with the movement. “I knew you’d fit right in. Seriously, I’m so glad we met. It’s like, you were meant to be here.”

Her words carried a warmth that felt genuine, even though you knew you couldn’t take them at face value. Still, you played along, letting your smile widen as you leaned in. “I’m glad, too. This is exactly what I needed.”

“Same,” Brooke said, her expression softening for a moment. “You don’t even know. You’re like... the missing piece. It’s been forever since I clicked with someone this fast.”

The sincerity in her voice struck you more than you expected, and you squeezed her hands briefly before letting go, your movements falling effortlessly back into the music. 

“You’re making this way too easy!” You teased.

“Good!” Brooke laughed, tossing her head back, “that’s what friends are for.”

The crowd pressed in around you, bodies swaying and shifting with the beat, but you held your space with ease, your movements a blend of precision and spontaneity. Brooke’s laughter rang As Brooke spun you, you caught a flicker of movement near the table. Rafe leaned forward across the table, murmuring something to Chase.

His hand moved absently to the edge of the table, fingers drumming once, twice, before stilling. Chase laughed, gesturing animatedly, though it was clear Rafe’s attention wasn’t fully on him. There was a restlessness to his movements, a little pull that made your focus longer than you meant to let it.

“Don’t look,” Brooke began a second later, leaning in with a grin that was both teasing and knowing, “but Rafe had been staring at you for, like, five minutes straight.”

You blinked and turned to Brooke. “Really?”

Brooke gave you a playful nudge. “Uh, yeah. It’s not exactly subtle.”

Your stomach fluttered as you glanced back toward the table, this time catching Rafe’s gaze. His fingers rested lightly on the table’s edge now, his posture easy yet fixed, as though he was aware of exactly when you’d look. The corner of his mouth curved slightly, not quite a smile, but enough to leave you wondering what it meant.

“Told you,” Brooke said, leaning closer. “You’ve got his attention.”

Your heart raced, but your exterior stayed calm. You held his focus a bit longer before turning back to Brooke with a playful shrug. “Maybe I’ll let him keep it. He’s cute.”

Brooke gasped and twirled you dramatically, her laughter ringing out above the music. “Oh, I like you! You’re dangerous.”

You grinned, letting the energy of the moment wash over you. The weight of Rafe’s attention only added to your focus, sharpening every movement, every smile.

The song shifted and Brooke leaned in again, her voice warm and truly genuine, “I mean it. I’m really glad you’re here. You’ve made this semester so much better already.”

“Right back at you,” you said, matching her sincerity.

But even as you spoke, the weight of Rafe’s fixation clung to you, impossible to ignore.

You glanced back at the table, catching his focus once more. His expression hadn’t changed, but something in his eyes made your chest tighten. A heat spread through you that had nothing to do with the dancing.

He wasn’t just looking. His stare lingered, sharp and probing, as if peeling back layers you hadn’t meant to reveal. It felt deliberate, practiced. Like a skill honed over years. This wasn’t just attention. It was control.

And Rafe Cameron knew how to hold it. Everyone was aware of it. He was the kind of guy who turned heads effortlessly, who drew people toward him whether they wanted to be near him or not.

For a split second, you’d doubted if you were the one setting the trap — or if you’d already stepped into his.

[whereserpentswalk]

Your new job is to sit at a desk, looking at a single camera feed monitoring a small white room, writing down everything that happens in the room, and then reporting it back to your bosses. The first day, two men are brought into the room, possibly unwillingly, and are instructed to fight to the death. Neither of them think to refuse, one of them wins. You realize there's very little you can do. Though you can hear what's going on in that room from your office, it's in the same building as you, the feed is live and it is near you and there's nothing you can do.

You write the report. Your bosses say it's good work but you need more detail, they'll give you further instructions. The next day the same happens, two men are brought in, two men fight, one man lives. You can hear it all going on across the hall. But you know to add more detail, your bosses love it, they love that you gave the amount of information that you did, they say you have a good eye for these things.

Every day at your job is the same. The men are different most times but survivors come back sometimes. Sometimes they have more then two men, sometimes on teams sometimes not. Sometimes they give them weapons, things that you would find in a hardware store. Sometimes there will be special rules. Sometimes it's just two men fighting to the death. Occasionally it won't be equal, but it will always be fair, but sometimes it'll be something like a man with a fireaxe agaisnt a man with a baseball bat, or three elderly men agaisnt one man in his prime. But it's always fair.

You write down the details well. You always typed fast. Everything anyone would need to know. Anything they said. Every move each of them made. How each injury effected them. The way the blood splatters. If when a man wins if it's because someone dies or because someone is too injured to fight, if he tries to kill of an injured man or let him bleed out. If a man uses his left or right hand to hold a knife. How long a man tries to run or dodge before he starts throwing punches. It eventually stops becoming like a real thing that's happening in the same small building you work in, and more like a game, and it's a game you're winning.

Your bosses might not be human. They never show themselves, and say that you'd be horrified by them if you ever saw them. They refer to humans as separate from them, as a type of synapsid, which is technically true but still. They also just don't talk like people. They could be billions of years old, all of this could be so meaningless to them. They could be demons, or aliens, or creatures from another dimension for all you know. Or they could be rich and powerful people doing their best to scare those who work for them, though they'd be putting a lot of effort into not appearing human if that was the case. It almost seems like them being aliens or something is the less conspiracy minded answer. But still, it doesn't matter, you don't have time to question it. This job pays better then anything else, it's getting you through college, it's gotten you a much nicer apartment in a much better neighborhood then you could with any other job. Who cares if they're demons, they're paying you.

There was one day where you saw a wounded man limping out of the room where the fight had happened. It was the first time you saw someone from the fights in the flesh. It was horrifying, you wanted to turn away, not because of his wounds but because you didn't want to be a part of this. You're just someone who watches it, just someone who reports on it, you're not going to actually be involved.

There was also a time someone screamed at the camera for someone to do something while his opponent was stabbing him to death. There was nothing for you to do, but it was strange to write about. You questioned if you should describe him as begging the camera for help, or begging you for help. But it felt weird for the reports to contain the word "me", you don't think your bosses would like that. You just wrote that he was begging for someone to help, it was the easiest way to describe it after all.

There was one fighter who you really enjoyed seeing. He was young, handsome, and very good at fighting. He wore a smirk when others wore frowns, and had these beautiful blue eyes. He knew how to taunt his enemies and get in their heads. And you always rooted for him to win, and he always did. You started thinking about him more and more, reading into the smallest movements, theorizing about why he was so good, about his past, his hopes and dreams. You read his personality into all of his actions, and loved him so much for it. Part of you hoped you'd accidentally meet him on your way out, and that you'd get to know eachother. Once you even touched yourself to the thought of him with you, but the act gave you a weird type of shame. You never knew his name. After one rough fight he was too injured to fight anymore, mostly blinded from slashes to the face it seemed. You were sad about him for a bit, and then moved on.

Your bosses want you to do a major report on the fights. You get to choose the specifics and your thesis, almost like a college paper. It's so cool and exciting to get to have so much creativity in your job. You wonder what they'll do for you next. You still don't know what your bosses are but they've been talking about a promoting. You're so lucky to have gotten this job.

[bluestar22x]

Misfits

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader (nicknamed "Birdie")

Other Characters: Cee

Summary: Ezra returns to his home planet and to you

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8,500(ish) words (things got out of hand)

Warnings: Fluff, angst, family feels, friends to lovers trope, rough smut, unprotected p in v, mildy detailed oral sex, dirty talk/praise, fowl language, and Ezra being his wordy self, excessive use of reader's nickname and Kevva

Author’s Note: This is for the "Writing Through The Seasons" challenge created by @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality . I got Ezra + summer + heart on fire + honey and the quote "I want to see you undress for me".

I ended up combining it with a story I was already planning to write and it bloomed into this huge oneshot that I was nervous about writing but ended up loving. I only hope I did Ezra justice. This was my first time writing him. I tried to balance my love of softness out with his brand of feral behavior. Also, I have incorporated a detail or two that weren't in the movie but were mentioned by the writers/directors in interviews.

xxx

Indecision faltered your movement down the familiar white walled hall of the intensive care unit, as it rightfully should have.

Why you were here on your off hours to visit a man you hadn't seen in over two decades, you had no grasp on.

You'd left him to history, hadn't you? You'd thought so for a long time, at least. He was your childhood; he had no place in your life now.

Yet something beckoned to you, compelled you to keep going until you reached room twelve, the one your work friend had said he'd be in.

You halted in the doorway for three reasons. One, the man in the room's single bed was nearly unrecognizable after all the passing years and it took you a few moments to reconcile the boyish face you'd known with the far more matured one he now exhibited. It was hastened by the tuft of blonde hair on the top of the right side of his head, and the old scar that ran across his left cheek, a reminder of how wildly adventurous he'd been as a child, more at home in the swamp and the rainforest than society.

Two, the man was terrifyingly pale and sweaty, his body twisted in the sheets as he slept restlessly beneath them, eyes sunken in. It was far worse to see the signs of fever and infection written on his tortured face than the limb he was clearly missing, stump covered in clean gauze. He could survive easily without an arm; surviving whatever had invaded his system was far more questionable, even though the monitor beside him assured you his pulse was steady and strong.

Three, he was not alone. A young girl, a teenager, was curled up in a leather seat beside him, watching his face with an intense expression, as if she was trying to will him to wake up with her mind. Her blonde hair was a tangled mess, and she was wearing sweats that were a few sizes too big for her, but she looked healthy, unmarked.

You didn't know what to make of her. She didn't look like him, but could she be his? There had been plenty of time for him to have a child of that age since the last time you'd seen him.

"Hi," you said awkwardly. "What's your name?"

She flinched and snapped her head in your direction. "Cee. Any news?"

You blinked at her, confused. "Any news on what?"

"His bloodwork," she explained. "The other nurse told me they'd have the results soon. That the nightshift doctor would stop in with them."

It clicked then. "Oh, I'm not the doctor," you said, glancing down at your navy colored scrubs before meeting her gaze. "I work as a physical therapist downstairs. Got off a few hours ago."

"What are you still doing here, then?" she inquired, folding her arms together.

"I came back to see Ezra," you replied, the name so foreign on your tongue that you hesitated upon saying it. It was alien to be speaking it out loud again after so long.

Cee studied you warily. "You know him?"

"Knew him," you corrected. "We were friends when we were kids."

You'd been much more than that towards the end, but she didn't need to know that.

She huffed. "Didn't think he was the type for friends."

"Then what is he the type for?" you asked, uncertain you wanted to know. You had an idea of how he might have spent his years off planet as a miner. You knew many atrocious stories about how some of those companies ran.

She remained quiet, unwilling to answer, which unlocked a newfound fear in you.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No!" she protested quickly, eyes widening a little. "No, he wouldn't do that."

Relief washed over you. You hadn't thought him capable of harming a kid, no matter what he may have otherwise done while away, but you had to ask. People changed, after all. It had been too long for you to assume his most basic morals had remained intact.

"Are you his daughter?" you finally inquired.

She snorted, as if you'd presented the most ridiculous question possible to her, and shook her head. "No. We met last week out on The Green."

You stared at her. "You were on The Green?"

"The Green" was a moon famous for its valuable bounties, but infamous for its vast dangers, both environmentally and socially. The few people who dared visit it to reap its hidden treasures were often greedy and ruthless. Not to mention the whispers of strange cults settling the dense forests to live out their lives as they saw fit.

It was no place for children.

"My father's idea," she explained, like that would make it make sense.

"And where is your father now?" you questioned, making an attempt not to force the word father. As far as you were concerned, no real father would dare drag his teenage daughter to that godforsaken planet.

"Dead," Cee said simply, face void of mournfulness.

You found her lack of emotion almost unsettling, but reminded yourself that people, especially kids, could be good at hiding them, and maybe there was good reason she would not care to cry for him.

Maybe her father was abusive or neglectful. He had dared to put her in significant danger for wealth, after all. That alone already sullied your opinion of the unnamed man to whom she shared blood with.

"How'd you end up here with Ezra?" you pressed on.

"He protected me out on the Green," she answered. "And we helped each other escape."

You could only imagine what they had faced. Maybe later you would ask Ezra about it, if he ever woke up.

"How bad off is he?"

Cee shrugged. "The doctor seemed hopeful last time she passed through."

"What happened?"

"On our way to an escape pod he became ill, infected by the spores in the air. They got through a tear in his suit. I had to cut off his arm to stop the spread, and he was doing better, but then we got into a fight with some other people who refused us seats in the pod and he got stabbed. We made it off the moon pretty soon after, but he got reinfected. He had just enough time to let it be known where he wanted to go, to buy a trip here, before he was too weak to leave the medical bay."

It was a lot to take in, but surely a lot more for the girl to have endured.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Cee," you said kindly.

She shrugged again. "He got the worst of it."

It wasn't what you meant, but you didn't correct her this time. Instead, you made her an offer. "Why don't you come home with me tonight? Get some sleep in a proper bed."

She narrowed her eyes at you. "Why would you help me? You don't know me."

"You helped save Ezra's life," you stated plainly, "And it sounds like you don't have anywhere else to go. Unless they've sent for someone from the orphanage?"

"I lied to them," Cee admitted. "I told them Ezra was my father and that I was seventeen. Old enough that they weren't concerned about getting the government involved."

You were impressed. "All the more reason to come with me. They'll get worried if you keep here all the time and waste away."

She gave you a look of suspicion.

"You're gonna have to trust someone, Cee," you said. "Have you even been to this planet before?"

"No, I just know its name," she replied. "Sylva Pluvialis. The rain-loving forest, right? It's supposed to be very Earth-like. "

"It is."

Earth had long been in ruins by the time you were born, but it was taught about in school plenty enough for you to remember what it was supposed to be like. The origin planet of humanity once had many different environments, but it had been most known for having a lot of water, just like your home planet, until it became the example of how not to treat a planet. A warning that they shouldn't take their second chance in the space beyond for granted, no matter how many planets and moons they'd since settled.

"So you gonna take me up on the offer or not?" you prompted, putting a hand on your hip.

She was parting her lips to speak when a soft groan interrupted her, and you both stared at the source. At Ezra. His eyes were still shut, but he was twitching his fingers, grasping at the sheets.

Maybe having a nightmare? you thought.

You approached his bedside and grabbed onto his remaining arm, below the elbow. "Ezra, Ezra, wake up," you called out calmly. "You're dreaming."

His eyes fluttered open slowly, and you sucked in a deep breath as those dark orbs met yours. All those years spent apart, yet they were still the eyes of the man you'd once loved.

"Birdie?" he murmured, bewilderment carving into his handsome features. A droplet of sweat slid from his temple to his hairline next to his ear. He chuckled in disbelief. "Kevva, I must be delirious from fever. You've hardly aged."

You laughed, relieved to hear him talking. Even if his voice was not like you remembered it, his sense of humor was. "I've got good genes."

"What are you doing here?" he inquired.

"You're asking me this?" You snorted. "I should be the one asking you. You're the one who left the solar system, Ezra."

"My greatest regret," he confessed with a wheeze.

You weren't sure what to say to that. He had hurt you when he had run away, because that was precisely what he had done. Run away. From home, from reality, from you. For what? To end up in a hospital bed with no one else to care about him except a young girl he'd just met and the woman he'd pushed away.

Ezra turned his head from you to glance in Cee's direction and was almost equally shocked to see her still there too. "You stayed?"

She huffed. "Where else am I supposed to go? I have no one else left."

Ezra's face twisted into a grimace, a hint that the story Cee had told you wasn't in full. "For what it's worth, I am sorry everything went down as it did, little bird."

She recrossed her arms. "I'm not here for apologies. We're past that."

He nodded.

"Do you have a place to stay when you get out of here?" you asked, breaking the tension.

He glanced at you knowingly. "I did not request to be transferred to this hospital with any intentions of begging you for your hospitality, birdie. That you presented yourself here even momentarily is a great wonder and mercy."

You couldn't help the edges of your lips curling up at his flowery use of words. After all this time he was still a master of language, just like his parents had been.

You'd never been quite so eloquent with your words.

"Shut up, Ez. You're staying at my house for a while."

x

You still lived in the house you were raised in, your parents having moved to the nearest city to live out their retirement years enjoying all that it had to offer. Movies, museums, food. They were living it up.

You were too used to the country life to follow them. Too in love with the land you'd been raised on. And there were too many fond memories to let go of.

Many of which involved Ezra, and maybe that was why you were taking him there in your transportation, a hover mobile that was shaped a lot like the cars of ancient times, back to where everything began. Not that you wanted to start over, but rather that you wanted to help the boy you remembered heal, and maybe stitch back together the part of your heart he tore when he fled, so those memories would no longer be tainted.

You also wanted to help Cee in whatever ways you could. Help her find her place in society again, find her a school to go to. You had always been a charitable person, had always strived to make the lives of the less fortunate better, and there was just something about her that made you want to see her flourish. You got the sense a kid with her kind of inner strength could do great things one day.

When your transport landed in front of your house, you and Cee immediately slipped out the doors, sucking in the fresh air as you glanced around at the surrounding massive fields of grass and the rainforest that bordered them.

Ezra lingered in the vehicle, deep in thought as he scanned the land around him. You wondered what he was thinking about. Their past? His parents' farm next door?

It had burned to the ground a decade ago, after a gas leak in the house's faulty heating system had exploded and destroyed it. It had taken his parents while they were fast asleep.

Ezra hadn't even come back home for their joint funeral. His brother had messaged him about it, but he had told him he wouldn't be able to make it. So his brother had sorted out all the proceedings on his own, then jetted off planet too, though his reason had to do with his wife wanting to make the move closer to her living relatives.

Did Ezra regret it? You pondered.

Eventually he stepped out too and followed you and Cee into the one story house, a duffel bag in hand, containing all the belongings that he had left. It wasn't even completely filled up.

"Ezra, you can take the guest room," you told him as you all took off your shoes at the door. "Light blue room if you don't remember it. Cee, you're going to be staying in my old bedroom, it's the one with the light green walls. Just down the hall."

They both swept the kitchen and living room over with their eyes.

"Your domicile appears almost exactly as I recall it," Ezra noted. "Strange, after all this time."

You shrugged. "I saw no reason to update it beyond adding a new layer of paint."

You headed for the kitchen sink to wash your hands. "I'm making cassoulet for dinner; feel free to raid the fridge for a quick lunch. I'm making myself a sandwich."

Ezra and Cee both nodded at you and disappeared down the hall to put away their belongings.

x

Your guests kept to their rooms most of the afternoon, something of a relief for you.

Even though you'd willingly invited them to stay, for however long they needed, it would be an adjustment having other people in the house again, especially Ezra, who you had a far too involved history with for his constant presence to be anything but awkward.

It seemed you might not have time to adjust though, considering that one dinner in they were already discussing their plans for future housing.

"Ever since we got off the Green, I've been thinking about going to boarding school," Cee informed you and Ezra. "Apparently there's one three hours from here. If I can get access to my father's savings, I could apply, maybe get in by autumn, though the window left to do so is small. If I got in I wouldn't have to worry about anything but where I'd stay during summers and holidays."

"You do not have to be concerned about your board on breaks," Ezra told her. "When I find a residence to rent, you may stay with me anytime you like."

Cee appeared pleasantly surprised by his offer. "If that wouldn't be a bother."

"You're no bother, little bird," he said, waving off her apprehension. "I owe much to you. If you cannot access your father's account, I would like to also assist you in paying for the school, if you would permit me to do so."

"Thanks," she said quietly. "I would appreciate that. But how would you afford it?"

"I have been a prospector for a long time," Ezra explained. "As pricey as the travel could be at times, I do still have a small savings. It will keep us until I find a new employment."

You couldn't help but smile at their interaction, a distraction from the classic French meal before you. Ezra was being quite generous to Cee. You thought she might mean a lot to him, despite how little time they'd had to get to know each other. It made you curious about what exactly had gone down on the Green between them.

"Do you know of any opportunities for payment?" Ezra asked you.

"I haven't heard of any job openings at the hospital that doesn't require special education," you informed him. "But surely there's something in town. You can borrow my tablet to do a search if you need to."

He nodded. "Thank you, birdie."

His sincerity, the appreciation in his lively lit eyes, nearly stole your breath.

All these years, and he could still make your stomach flutter.

x

"Ezra, don't do this," you begged as he began stuffing clothes into the duffle bag he'd thrown onto his bed.

"I need to do this, birdie," he insisted, reaching out to hold your face in his smooth hands. "The farm's not going to last without some other source of profit."

"But prospecting?" you questioned. "Ezra, most of the companies out there are cut throat, quite literally. You have heard the stories as much as I have. It's not so different from going to war."

He snorted. "Exaggerations. Gossip. The prospecting companies are like all others. They must obey the laws of their home planets."

"Maybe they do," you relented, "But once their workers land on a foreign planet or moon, it is a free-for-all. Lawless territory."

"It's good money, birdie," he told you, stepping away. "We would never have to worry about finances ever again. Not my parents. Not-"

"Not you," you finished for him. "Since when did you care about money, Ezra, as long as there was enough to survive?"

"I am weary of simple survival, birdie," he hissed. "You should understand most of all."

You got it then, why he really wanted to leave. "Is this about me leaving for college?" you asked incredulously.

"You are paving your way to a better future, why can't I too?"

"You're not fooling me, Ez," you said. "It's about the distance. That I'm going to one of the moons to get my specialized training."

You grabbed his right hand. "Distance will not be the end of us, Ezra. What we have is beyond that. Why can you not trust in us? In the misfits? Us against the world, remember?"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "You're trying to hold me back. Why?"

"Cause I'm worried about your safety!" you exclaimed, throwing your hands up.

"Well, fret no more," he snapped uncharacteristically, turning away to throw his bag over his shoulder. "I will no longer be your business."

He might as well have slapped you. You stared at him, stunned. "What?"

"I will be gone for a long time," he explained. "It's part of the contract. It is best we end things here."

"You bastard!" you screamed, shoving him. "Idiot! Coward! All this because I'm going to college for a couple years? We could've made it work! The distance is nothing."

He pulled his lips tightly together. "I don't share your naivety."

With that, he pushed past you on his way out, and devastated by his harsh words, you let him.

You turned to watch his back as he disappeared down the hall, wondering how your relationship could've turned sour so fast.

How your best friend could've dared rip your heart out.

For the first time in your life, nothing made sense.

x

You woke up from the reminiscent dream with tears in your eyes, the pain of it flooding back to you almost as if it had just occurred the previous day, not twenty-four years ago.

The anger you'd felt after he'd left resurfaced as you tried to pull yourself back together.

That was a long time ago. You'd put it behind you. He'd even apologized.

And you knew why he'd left. Why he'd broken up with you. He'd been scared. You'd been his first real relationship, his only true friend his whole childhood, just like he'd been yours.

Before he'd moved in next door, he'd been a lonely boy. Your mother had actually been the one to insist you go out and play with him, having made friends with his mother already, knowing he had a difficult time making his own friends.

You'd bonded over your shared oddities, particularly for your love of nature and books in a world where technology reigned supreme, and your disinterest in spending time with any of the other children in your class.

You'd spent nearly every evening after school together, exploring the land that your parents farmed, mornings on weekends. The rainforest where they harvested several of the native plants to sell to less fruitful planets and moons so they could have enough sustenance to feed their populations during dry spells was your favorite playground.

It was where Ezra got the scar on his cheek, tripping and falling face first into a sharp rock while chasing you. You'd both been ten at the time.

The incident had launched you into a fit of giggles, once you'd checked in to make sure he was okay.

The recollection of the surprise on his face as he'd fallen made you laugh even decades later, which only caused you to cry harder.

Sometimes it was your days as a member of the misfits of Sylva Pluvialis that you mourned most of all.

x

Only on second day at your home, your guests got hard at work to figure out their future jobs and housing, Ezra borrowed your transportation to bring himself and Cee to town to run their errands, leaving you alone most of the day to tend to your household chores and the beehives your family had taken care of ever since before you could remember anything.

The bees were remnants of Earth, flown through space and time to be farmed for honey so people could consume it wherever they ended up. Your parents had made a decent profit from them when you were growing up and honey had gotten a fair bit more valuable as of late due to a sudden increase in demand caused by a current diet trend.

Ezra and Cee had already returned by the time you finished with them and jarred some honeycombs for a desert you were planning to make the next day.

He was lounging on the couch when you strolled in.

"Where's Cee?" you inquired.

"In her room," he answered. "Busying herself with writing."

"Did she get what she needed to apply for school?"

He nodded. "They were able to dig up all the information she needed to apply to the boarding school, and I transferred my savings over to the bank in town since she was denied access to her father's account. Tomorrow I am going to assist her in filling out the application."

"And did you have any luck in town?"

"There's a few rents on the market, but they are far too costly for anything long term," he replied. "Unfortunately, the non-specialty work is sparser."

"I'm sure something will turn up soon," you assured him. "At worst, harvest season is only a few months away. My father reseeded his portion of the forest before he decided to retire. The area is probably overgrown, but I am sure you could still get a decent yield of crop from it. You could keep all the profits. It should be enough to keep the bills paid for nearly a year and to purchase a prosthetic arm of your choosing, which I will gladly help you with. I have many patients who use prosthetics."

Ezra grinned. "My dearest birdie, you are too kind. Believe it or not, I was actually just contemplating whether or not I should offer you currency for the land my brother sold to your father after my parents perished. Get back into the business. That way I would not need to rely on the mercy of others."

"You would not need much," you told him honestly. "Your brother practically gave the land to us for nothing, and I would not sell it to you for more. Let me know if you want to go through with it."

He gave you a curt nod. "Thank you. I will."

x

It wasn't a month before summer completely overtook spring on the planet, bringing about a period of equal amounts of rain and sun, and weather that alternated between the two in the blink of an eye.

Your guests continued to keep mostly to themselves except for meals and occasional gatherings in the living room to watch a film or two.

Cee seemed to thrive on quiet time in her room, drawing or writing for hours on end in the spare journal you'd handed to her after Ezra had mentioned that she was an aspiring author.

You'd managed to get her out of the house for a rare trip into town a few times to get desert or to shop for the formal clothes she'd need for boarding school, but not much else.

Ezra was quite a bit more distant, spending a lot of time away from the house for one reason or another. When he wasn't busy or pretending to be occupied, he hiked the trails, choosing the company of the natural world over yours. It was curious, since the Ezra you knew had hardly been able to stand quiet. He'd always preferred company to converse with.

And it wasn't like you'd expected him to entertain you, but you couldn't help but be disappointed. A part of you, the girl, had longed to mend bridges.

Even if it was his fault they were broken to begin with, you needed it, as much as you didn't want to admit it.

So one early sunny morning, in the peak of summer, you tugged on your boots and your pack and met him just before he wandered into the dense forest.

"Mind if I join you?" you asked as you fell into step with him.

He glanced at you, caught off guard by your appearance, but trying not to act it. "Of course not."

"Good," you said. "Cause it's supposed to be a scorcher today and I know just the spot to visit and cool off."

You led the way down a grassy trail through the forest, overgrown from lack of use. You didn't take the path very often; only visiting its end point when you most needed to clear your head. When you most needed peace.

Ezra followed close behind, not questioning where you were going, still unnaturally silent even though you were right there, barely ahead of him.

It took maybe twenty minutes before you reached the clearing. You heard the running water long before you saw it, a great river snaking through the land, hidden from the rest of the world.

You'd discovered it when you were a child, during one of your explorative adventures with Ezra. It had become your secret spot, only known by him, but rarely shared with him. He'd left it to you, but knew to look for you there when something was troubling you.

You thought it would be the perfect place to bring him since he seemed to be the troubled one now.

"It's magnificent, as it has always been," he noted as he joined you at the riverbank, staring up at the moderate but still respectably sized waterfall that fed the turbulent body of water.

"Yeah," you agreed, side-eying him as you spoke, trying to observe his reaction. "Water's sparkling today. Perfect for swimming."

"Birdie," he protested, but you were already barefoot, shirtless, and dropping your shorts.

You jumped into the water fearlessly, in nothing but your undergarments, and shouted as you came back up to the surface, not having expected it to be so unusually cold for the season.

"Come on, Ezra," you yelled out, gesturing for him to follow suit. "Don't be shy."

He grunted at you, like him being shy was the most ridiculous thing you could've insinuated, and removed his shirt in one flowing motion.

Then you knew why it was ridiculous.

Ezra had always been attractive, but he'd really grown into his own since you'd last seen him like this. He was a far cry from the skinny teenage boy you'd fallen in love with. Rugged was the descriptor that first sprung to mind. He was build solid; well filled out. And his shoulders looked that much broader without fabric covering them.

You would've gotten lost in staring at him if not for the alarming amount of scars on him that hadn't been there before, including one near his ribs that you were certain was from a healed knife wound.

"Ezra," you whispered, rattled by the sight of it; by how close the wound was to some very vital organs.

"Got it on the Green," he informed you, having seen how your eyes had been drawn to it.

"I know," you said, "Cee mentioned it. It's why your infection worsened before you arrived on planet, right?"

He nodded.

"Do I want to know how many times you've almost died in the last couple decades?" you inquired.

"I sincerely doubt it, birdie," he said, "Yet I still roam this mortal plane."

"Here, but not seizing the day," you commented. "Join me."

"Gladly."

He waded into the river and dipped his head under briefly before reaching your side.

"Refreshing, isn't it?" you inquired pointedly. This was why you'd brought him to the river after all. Not only to cool down, but to relax and take part in a simple joy.

He smiled fondly. "It's been a considerable time since I swam. I nearly forgot the feeling of respite that accompanied it."

"Well, you can come here whenever you like," you offered.

He cocked his head. "You would share with me?"

"It would not be the first time."

You were not only thinking of the times he'd followed you out here to comfort you, but also of all the times you'd taken pleasure in each other on the riverbank, away from all prying human eyes and ears.

Judging from the expression on his face, his mind had gone there too.

"I meant what I said in the hospital, birdie," he said eventually. "I am sorry for the pain I caused you by fleeing. Abandoning you. I was a foolish, insecure boy. I reasoned that you would meet another student with a more promising future and forget about me, whether or not I did so. I thought I was cutting to the chase. I thought I could move on."

He paused. "However, while I’ve had more encounters than I’d care to count, I came to the subsequent conclusion that you were the only one that ever truly meant anything to me. Being with you was something entirely different. You were like an oasis in a desert to me, one Kevva created just for my reprieve. Being with you was not just a want, but a need. I have not felt anything remotely like it thereafter."

"Then why have you been avoiding me?" you asked, though you had been cleaved by his words. They had expressed what you'd also surmised; something that had been almost too devastating for your romantic heart when you'd first realized it.

"For precisely that reason," he replied. "I am tempted to rekindle what I have reminisced about for the entire span of my maturity, and I cannot."

"Why not?" you said, frowning. If you both wanted to be together, shouldn't it be simple? This was not one of those forbidden love stories you'd read about when you were a teenager.

"Because you are too good for me," he explained. "I am tarnished. I've got blood on my hands, birdie. They are soaked. Worse, some of that blood courses through Cee's veins."

You blinked at him, confused. "What does that mean?"

He then dove into the story of how he and Cee met. He began by telling you that his visit to the Green was always supposed to be his last attempt at wealth. He went on to tell you about the team he was with, their success in finding the gems they were after, and how their greed had torn them apart, destroyed their ship, and resulted in the deaths of everyone on board but him and a faceless mute he called Number Two.

He recounted how he met a man named Damon who had endeavored to steal his gems, an action that ultimately lead to Number Two to shooting him, though Ezra had been attempting to talk him out of it, for Cee's sake. Cee had been Damon's daughter.

Damon had shot back, and Number Two died, but Damon hadn't.

"He was mortally wounded," Ezra told you, "But I took it upon myself to dispatch him anyway."

"It was a mercy kill," you injected.

He shook his head at you. "That wasn't my sole intention, birdie," he stated darkly. "I desired to take his life. I was spiteful about it. I didn't feel guilty for killing him, only for it putting a young girl in the unfortunate position of being an orphan on a strange and violent planet."

You swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with what he'd just confessed to. The story conflicting with everything you had known about him.

"It's why I didn't abandon Cee," he said, "I owed her, and someone had to be responsible for her. She saved my life on that abhorrent moon. Only Kevva knows why. She's the one who cut off my arm when it got infected and when I ordered her to leave me behind to my fate after I was stabbed, to escape on her own, she came back for me. So, as long as she'll allow me, I will mind her."

That part, at least, sounded a lot more like the Ezra you'd known.

"You care about her a lot, don't you?"

You could hear it in his voice. It wasn't just about him feeling responsible for her.

"She made it impossible not to," he answered simply. "I gave her no reason to spare me, yet she did."

"I doubt that," you told him. "There's a charm to you, Ez."

"Oh?"

"I don't just share this spot with anyone," you reminded him. "It's only ever been you."

"No amount of charm will ever change the things I've done," he said almost bitterly.

"It doesn't matter what you did," you told him. "Only what you do now."

He nodded, and the serious expression on his face enticed you to splash water into it, an unexpected assault that left him looking like a drowned rat, and in turn made you giggle.

"You think that's amusing?" he roared.

He tackled you playfully into the water, like you'd done so many times to him when you were teenagers, and you came up sputtering for air, but unperturbed by your defeat.

When your laughter ebbed, you locked eyes with Ezra and your breath hitched, your body's go-to reaction to witnessing intense desire in his soulful eyes. You hadn't seen it in far too long.

He bridged the gap between you a split second sooner than you could, pulling you in for a searing kiss, and you melted into his embrace.

"I want you, Ez," you whispered as you broke away from him.

A smirk tugged at his lips, the hidden confidence he'd gained with age and experience revealing itself at your statement. It made your stomach swoop.

"And I want to see you undress for me, birdie," he rasped heatedly into your ear, his hot breath tickling it.

You grinned and led him out of the water, only doing as requested once you were on the bank.

You stripped out of your undergarments slowly, teasingly, eyes on him, noticing that his were fixed on you like a predator eying its next meal. On anyone else the expression might have frightened you, but this was Ezra. You knew he would never harm you.

You approached him once you were naked and he palmed your right cheek.

"You are the finest creature Kevva has ever created," he declared as he glided his rough thumb over your delicate lips, tracing them. "I am not worthy of you."

"I'll accept an attempt to be," you joshed.

"I'm afraid my first endeavor to do so may be mediocre," he admitted. "I am no longer whole, birdie, and I have not participated in any intimate acts since the loss of my limb."

You shook your head at him and boldly groped at the hardened bulge in his pants, drawing a sharp moan from him. You smirked. "Something tells me you are still plenty capable of getting the job done."

When you removed your hand he shut his eyes, taking a moment to calm himself. "Fuck, birdie. Are you trying to eliminate me?"

Your only reply was a devilish smile and a come hither look which drew him back to you like a moth to a flame. He followed you to the ground, kneeling in the short grass as you laid out on your back.

He hooked his arm around your bent knees and quickly dragged you closer to him, pure lust written out on his features.

"My birdie, I wish to taste your sweet nectar," he confessed lowly. "Would you allow me to do so? To bring you to ecstasy with my mouth?"

You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him directly. "I'm yours, Ezra," you said ardently. "Take me as you desire."

"That's a dangerous proposition," he hissed.

You shrugged. "I'm not worried."

He settled between your thighs, his left hand spreading you wide to allow accommodation for his broad shoulders, and dipped his head down to put his mouth on you.

You gasped and flattened yourself to the ground after the initial sweep of his tongue against your heat, the action feeling far more pleasant than you'd expected.

It had been a long time since any man had done this to you, let alone yearned to do so, and it was quickly clear that Ezra had significantly more practice at it than any of your other previous partners.

His licks and sucks were precise, and he skillfully focused on your most sensitive areas, sending jolts of pleasure through your body that had you arching your back and squeezing your thighs tight against the sides of his head. You tugged at his hair with one hand and bit down on the other fisted one to cope.

"Want to hear you, birdie," Ezra told you when you started holding back. You hadn't even realized you were, because why would you when there was no one else to listen to the noises you were making except him? But you had, and so you stopped.

He dipped two fingers into you and pressed them against the sweet spot inside you, and that act combined with the continued attention of his tongue soon had your body quaking with white hot bliss.

"Ezra," you moaned out sharply, digging your nails into his scalp. "Fuck. Should've known that mouth of yours wasn't just good for talking. Hats off to whoever taught you of its alternate use."

He chuckled and kissed his way back up your body slowly, nipping at the skin on your belly and breasts as he did so, eventually finding your lips again.

"You are divine in every way," he murmured against them, biting the lower one. "I could give it another go, but I fear I may fall apart before getting a chance to be surrounded by you, and that would be a terrible disappointment."

"Fret no more," you said, grinning as you popped the button of his pants open. "Just take these off and give us both what we desire most."

Nodding, he rolled away from you to peel off the soaked pants and boxer briefs he still wore as fast as he could, kneeling once again before you after they were ditched.

A thrill coursed through you as his eyes raked hungrily over you; as your body anticipated what was to come.

He didn't waste any time notching his tip at your entrance and joining you together, surging into you in one swift motion, all the way down to the hilt. You yelped at the suddenness of it, but quickly relaxed as the intensity of the stretch quickly morphed into a comforting warmth.

He covered you, eyes flicking to yours as he supported his upper body on his singular forearm, the tension in the air between you palpable.

"My memory did not serve you justice, my dear birdie," he muttered, breath hot against your neck. "Nor my fantasies. You clutch me so tightly I fear I may unravel well before either of us reach satisfaction. I must take a beat."

In defiance, you raised your legs and crossed them just above his hips, drawing him into a slightly different position, and he grunted. "Fuck, Kevva have mercy."

You smiled smugly at him. "Too much, Ez?"

"Not enough," he growled, pulling out briefly only so he could ram his hips back into you, a powerful action that jarred you from your place in the grass and made you mew.

You chanted his name as he began pounding into you relentlessly, not holding back in the slightest. It was quite a contrast to your first time together, when he was cautious and wary of what he could do to you, but it was exactly what you'd wanted.

You dug your heels into his back, urging him on, and did your best to tilt your hips in time with his. Letting your hands wander over the expanse of his upper back and shoulders as you did so, you paused only to marvel at the feel of his impressive muscles bunching and flexing underneath his smooth skin and your palms.

"That's it, that's it birdie," he panted. "Shit. Look at you. Taking me so well, wanting more. I'll give you everything you ask for, just keep writhing and calling out my name like that. Kevva, no one has ever said it better."

"Ezra," you gasped. "Come for me."

"Not before you," he insisted, grinding into you harder as sweat beaded up on his forehead.

You gripped his waist tighter with your thighs and loosened them rhythmically, clenching and unclenching around him. Alongside the loud groans and praise that shamelessly poured out of his mouth and everything else he was already doing to you, it helped push you to the brink.

You screamed out his name a final time and clawed at his shoulder blades as pleasure wracked every inch of your body, leaving you a quivering mess.

"Shit, birdie, shit, shit," you heard Ezra curse in the background of the hazy world that consumed you after, the words sounding desperate.

You felt him shift then, shoving himself away from you to lean back on his heels, and when he resumed his pace, he drove into you ruthlessly, however brief. He pressed his hand firmly against the space between your belly and hips to enhance the sensation of it for your already limp body just before he found his own respite, jaw taunt and cock throbbing as he grunted and spurted hot inside you.

You whimpered at the sensation of it, overstimulated, and he lowered himself back down to you to kiss you tenderly.

"Easy, birdie, easy," he soothed, nuzzling your cheek after. "My beautiful, perfect birdie."

For awhile after you just existed together, your breaths mingling and hearts strumming in time with each other.

Once he'd calmed, Ezra dragged himself down your body enough to gain access to your breasts and sucked on one of your nipples greedily, pulling away after a few seconds with a grin plastered on his face. After he gave your other nipple similar attention for both your sake and his, he resumed his commendation of you, laving at the skin over your chest, neck, then face as he did so.

"For two decades I have traversed the universe in search of its greatest riches and delights, but nothing could match the euphoria I acquire when I am with you, over you, inside of you," he murmured against your lips, pecking them occasionally between words.

You smiled and silently basked in his affection.

"Your sanctity rivals Kevva herself," he continued, "I am immensely privileged to have worshipped you, even if just once more."

He rolled off of you and you turned to face him, to rest a hand on his smooth chest. "I should hope this is not the last time, Ezra. You may have very well ruined all other men for me today."

He preened at your appraisal and chuckled softly before sharing a grin with you.

His calloused hand skated over your shoulder after, and he gathered you under his arm to tuck you up against his side.

"Kevva, I missed you," he whispered, and you raised your hand to fondly stroke the hair at the base of his neck.

"I missed you too, Ez."

You prayed that you would never have to again.

"Sleep, birdie," he commanded. "I wish to see the river come alive with you tonight and be well rested while doing so."

"Gladly," you said, your exhaustion already hitting you and shuttering your eyes.

He pressed one last kiss to your mouth and you drifted off.

x

You'd once read in school that Earth had been remarkably similar to your home planet in all kinds of ways, from the high levels of oxygen in the air, to the abundance of water, and the creatures that populated its land.

They were far from identical, but there were many species on Sylva Pluvialis that, on their surface, resembled the ones that had cohabitated Earth with your ancestors, and were classified in the same manner.

The jellyfish and the many other types of fish that inhabited the river that ran through your property could've fooled Earth people easily into thinking they were still on the blue planet, until they saw them after sunset.

You slept on and off throughout the day with Ezra, until you woke up one last time that night to witness the change, when the dozens of animals within your view started to glow in the dark, their bioluminescence adding a shock of color to your world.

Dressed, you approached the river with Ezra, hand in hand, and observed them for a long time in tranquility.

"What a wondrous thing to behold," he said eventually, "A rarity among the wildlife littering the cosmos. There were times I thought I would never witness it again, but here I stand."

"Here we stand," you amended.

"And I am mystified by it," he admitted. "I am only here because of the grace Cee has shown me and the reprieve you handed me with little hesitance. I am perplexed by how someone like you could ever love someone like me."

"Who said I loved you?" you teased.

"You," he answered, "A long time ago. As did I. And that kind of adoration doesn't simply depart, does it? Even though I have become someone unrecognizable, a scoundrel, you still care for me."

"I recognize you just fine, Ezra," you told him, resting your head against his arm. "Underneath it all, you're still the same person I've always known. The inquisitive, pensive little boy who sometimes drove me crazy with all his verbose."

He huffed, but let you go on without interruption.

"A misfit like me. Remember? Us against the world. That's how it was always supposed to be."

"I will forever regret questioning it," he told you with a long sigh.

"We are past that," you said, echoing Cee. "Just don't make the same mistake twice."

"Never."

x

"You packed everything you needed, right?" you asked anxiously, trailing the young girl who you'd grown to deeply care for to the taxi transport in front of the house.

Cee turned to you and Ezra, smiling and shaking her head at the same time. "Yes. I even took one of the jars of honeycombs to eat as a snack on the road."

"Good, I'm glad," you said awkwardly. "I guess then, we only have goodbye left."

"For a few weeks," she pointed out. "I'll be back from school for harvest break. No time at all."

"I'll still miss you," you told her, opening your arms up for a hug.

She huffed at the gesture and rolled her eyes in a very typical teenage manner, but accepted your embrace anyway.

When she pulled away she glanced between you and Ezra. "I'll see you later."

"See you soon, little bird," Ezra said quietly.

She nodded at him and turned on her heels, ready to stroll over to the taxi and get inside, but something made her pause.

She faced Ezra again and launched herself at him suddenly, shocking you both as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He had just enough time to hold her back briefly before she was gone, headed to the taxi for real this time.

Within the minute the vehicle had disappeared out of sight.

"You okay, Ez?" you inquired, eyes studying his.

There was no moisture in them, but they were piteous. "I will be."

You both started making your way back to the house, arms brushing, when you heard another transport stop out in front.

You twisted around at the same time and he frowned at you in confusion. It wasn't the same taxi Cee had left in.

You grinned, knowing there was only one other person the transport could contain. You'd invited him for a visit, after all.

He stepped out of the vehicle slowly, clearly unsure of himself, a bag slung over his back. It contained enough clothes to see him through the week if he wished to stay that long. You hoped he would.

He was slightly shorter than Ezra and a few years younger, with some boyish features that had never left him, highlighted by his lack of facial hair, but his chin and dark eyes were a near exact match to your Ez's.

He and Ezra were both stalk still as Ezra stared at him in disbelief.

"Enzo?"

The edges of the other man's mouth quirked up a little.

"Hey, big brother."

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed @solanumofthestars

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

lore and tidbits from the re-animated series:

an alien's glove can only work when worn on the left hand

there's a debate class at seabrook high and bree is generally feared when it comes to the debates

zed and addison watch a show called dragon's landing together

christmas/x-mas is called z-mas

seabrook has their own version of dancing with the stars called dancing with the shrimps

addison is only a level-one alien student

everyone at seabrook high ships wyliza and has been secretly rooting for them to get back together

there's a zombies-ified version of jingle bells

zed thinks that nachos are the best food (so they're most likely his favorite food cause they've been mentioned A LOT)

the werewolves refer to december as meat-cember

pacey (or bucky's lackey) is seabrook high's hall monitor and he takes it very seriously because it's the only thing he has for himself

zed's contact picture in addison's phone is a picture of him making a heart with his fingers

there's an alien nutrition cube-only vending machine in the cafeteria

bartleby has been employee-of-the-month at the curse shop 10 times

zed is usually the planner of events such as parties and dances

coach runs seabrook high's information technology (IT) department but only because he agreed during his 'year of saying "yes"'

principal lee is a cat lady

bree's grammykins has a recipe for punch

instead of santa claus, seabrook has santler claws

^and instead of giving coal to bad kids, he slashes the bad children's gifts and rather than children leaving out milk and cookies, they leave out hot sauce

^speaking of hot sauce, there's a brand by the name of henry heathead's habanero hemorrhage

pre-packaged squirrel is a meal option for werewolves

zoey's favourite holiday is z-mas

willa doesn't like to wave to people and finds it unnecessary

dae can play the tambourine

willa and wynter used to try to catch santler claws as kids

part 1 part 2

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

TUA Tumblr Simulator pt. 2

Find more here: pt. 1

—

💩is-reginald-hargreeves-dead-now Follow

10/01/2007

NO

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21/03/2019

YES, HE'S DEAD NOW!!!

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🤲health-and-goodness Follow

RIP Sir Reginald Hargreeves

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HA, no

FUCK Reginald Hargreeves, all my homies HATE Reginald Hargreeves

256,803 notes

🏰study-hall-monitor Follow

Wait, how old is Reginald Hargreeves? Did he not age? Seriously, look at this photo from 2002 and look at this photo from this year

🦕dino-nuggiez Follow

If you were on Facebook, they'd say he was a lizard person

🐊florida-shaped-being Follow

Fortunately, we're on Tumblr

Which means that people will say he's a crab person

🎃helloqueen Follow

🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀

🍁chaos-is-my-peanutbutter Follow

You fools

OBVIOUSLY he's an alien

👾codey-for-everyone Follow

Wait. Omg. It makes sense!

It would also explain their powers, think about it!

You're an absolute genius, I can't believe no one has ever thought about that before!

🍁chaos-is-my-peanutbutter Follow

Lmao I think you're taking this too seriously buddy

🖍️memecent-van-go Follow

You are ALL wrong

He is actually created in a lab by the government and they said he "died" to surprise us with the biggest April Fool's prank in the history of mankind next week

498,737 notes

🪩 traumallama Follow

Congratulations to all the Hargreeves siblings, I am very happy for you. May you lead a very peaceful and cheerful life now that your dickhead father is gone

🌌 jupiters-moons Follow

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

🌨️ twirlingandwhirling Follow

I just feel bad for The Séance. Wouldn't like to have my abusive dad following me around

👥 lurkeringlurrlurr Follow

By that logic his dead brother, The Horror, would also be following him around

🌌 jupiters-moons Follow

Their names are Klaus and Ben.

🚵 rolly-molly Follow

Can we go back to The Séance thing? I mean, his power is that he can see ghosts iirc, who is to say he can't see Ben? (Also, seriously, The Horror? That must be so bad for a child)

👥 lurkeringlurrlurr Follow

Sure, I guess it wouldn't be impossible

But if *I* had my dead brother following me around all the time, I think I'd lose my sanity

9,734 notes

🪷sweet-sweet-sweeter Follow

Why Reginald Hargreeves kinda hot ngl

🥐food-up-with-this-croissant Follow

Dude, he JUST died

🪷sweet-sweet-sweeter Follow

What? I like old guys!

🌾crying-in-bed Follow

Tumblr user not simping over a white rich dude challenge: FAILED ❌

👾codey-for-everyone Follow

Also he's probably an alien

🪷sweet-sweet-sweeter Follow

Even better for the monsterfuckers

🐍nessiesmuse Follow

The monsterfuckers don't want him either

💟singthissong Follow

Abi, I say this as your friend, your mutual...

Get a better taste in men

🪷sweet-sweet-sweeter Follow

Maybe when I can afford rent, food and bills with one job I will

5,679 notes

☂️brellies-fan Follow

Is that Number Five, aka, The Boy, the one who disappeared 17 years ago?! Why does he still look like 13!? What's happening?!

1,139,580 notes

[ghostofaboy]

Day Thirteen - Kinktober 2024

Day 13: Oviposition / Face Fucking / Group Sex Marcus Moreno Rating: Explicit | Word Count: 2185 Warnings: Tentacle sex, oviposition, Mpreg I guess, forced orgasm

Ghost of a Boy Kinktober Prompt List | Kinktober '24 Masterlist Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The mission had started off straightforward enough. The Heroic had received a strange signal from just beyond the moon and with their connections to Ogima, it had been assumed Ms Granada and Ojo’s people were returning.

That assumption had been wrong.

Marcus pinched his eyes with his fingers, blinking away the exhaustion as he listened to the Steward and Ms Granada go over the terms of the agreement for the fourth time. He knew why the Heroic’s director was being so cautious but he also understood the Steward’s position. The large blue-skinned alien had been tasked with caring for another species on the verge of extinction, sent into space on an ark ship to find allies who could help the odd squid-like creatures reproduce. 

He had found Ogima, who couldn’t help, but who had sent the Steward to Earth. It turned out that humans were compatible with the alien’s needs, but not quite hardy enough. That’s where the Heroics came in.

After days of endless tests, it had been determined that he, Blinding Fast, Crimson Legend, and Crushing Low were the only ones who could help. Each of them would be incubating a clutch of eggs and, always one to lead by example, Marcus was going first.

“I assure you Director, your associate will be monitored at all times.” The Steward bowed to Ms Granada. “He will be perfectly safe.”

“I would still have preferred to do this at our headquarters.” Granada frowned, glancing over at Marcus. “But if your charges cannot be moved then-”

“I’ll be fine.” Marcus piped up, putting a hand on Granada’s shoulder. “The Steward knows what he’s doing. When do we start?”

“After you have rested.” The Steward bowed again, this time to Marcus. “I have prepared quarters. We can begin once you are at full strength.”

“Very well.” Granada folded her arms. “Rest well Marcus, I’ll speak to you as soon as the procedure is done.”

“See you then.” Marcus gave Granada’s shoulder a final squeeze, before following the Steward through the winding halls of the ship to his quarters.

Marcus barely remembered falling asleep. The day before had been spent going over medical data and treaty details, and he had felt himself slipping dangerously close to sleep several times. By the time his head had hit the pillow that evening, it hadn’t taken him long to fall into a deep sleep. 

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Marcus rolled and shut off the alarm that had so rudely woken him. Sitting up in bed he was just contemplating getting dressed when a soft chime sounded at his door.

“Come in.”

As the door slid open the tall blue form of the Steward smiled at Marcus as he entered the room. “Did you sleep well Marcus Moreno?”

“Like a baby.” Marcus chuckled. “So, I guess it’s time, right? How do I… where do you want me?”

“Please, there is no need to fret. I will take you through every step. I have brought you a robe to wear. Please leave your clothing here.”

Marcus looked down at the soft white robe in the Steward’s hand, the request taking a few moments to sink in. Of course, he wouldn’t need clothes. The aliens would need full access to his body. Giving the Steward a nervous smile, Marcus slowly climbed out of bed. He’d only slept in his underwear, and with slightly trembling hands, Marcus pulled them off and placed them on the bed. 

The Steward continued to smile kindly at Marcus as he handed over the robe, before once again leading him through the maze of corridors of the giant ark ship. Marcus padded along behind the much taller Steward, his bare feet on the polished floor the only sound as they traveled. Finally, they reached their destination and Marcus followed the Steward into the nesting room.

The room was much warmer than the rest of the ship, with a softer, almost bouncy floor. There were no furnishing in the warmly lit room, except for a single plush rounded object. It looked like a bean bag, but slightly sturdier. But Marcus’ eyes were immediately drawn to the three large holes in the far wall, each around the size of a human head.

“They will join us shortly, " the Steward soothed, gently helping Marcus remove his robe. “Do not be concerned. They are gentle, and I will remain with you throughout the process.”

Marcus nodded, resisting the urge to cover himself. There was no use for modestly here. He was able to get impregnated by an alien squid creature and he doubted the Steward cared about how a human’s genitals looked. 

“So, how should I… um…?” Marcus looked up at the Steward. 

“It is your preference. They will emerge from the tunnel to touch you and gain access.” The Steward’s peaceful voice was reassuring as Marcus nodded along with his explanation. “In this case, that will be your anus. On your hands and knees or on your back would be best. But I do not know which will be more comfortable for you personally.”

“Will it hurt?” The words left Marcus’ mouth before he realized. This was something he definitely should have asked before agreeing to this, there was no use knowing now.

“Absolutely not.” The Steward shook his head. “They secrete a substance that will relax you and ease entry. Fret not Marcus Moreno. If you become distressed, I will stop the process.”

Marcus opened his mouth to thank the Steward but stopped as a low rumbling sound began to come from the holes in the wall. It sounds almost like a slowed-down whale song, as deep chirps and clicks began to get louder and more frequent.

“They are here.” The Steward beamed down at Marcus. “Please, choose your position.”

Lowering himself onto the soft floor, Marcus opted for his knees, getting onto all fours with his ass facing the wall. As the Steward also sat on the floor at his side, a shiver of anticipation ran through Marcus’ body. He felt so exposed and vulnerable, but it was too late to turn back now.

Marcus had never seen the other aliens with only Granada’s vague description of their tentacles to go off of. However, the imagery of squids had conjured up the idea of something wet, or perhaps slimy. So when a soft, warm…something… began to touch him, Marcus instinctually jumped.

“Be calm.” The Steward placed a large hand over his own. “They seek to know you. They will touch before they enter.”

And so Marcus tried to control his breathing as a large, thick appendage began to roam over his body, gliding over his skin as it mapped out his form. More soon joined it of various sizes, with arm-sized tentacles stroking down his back, while small thin feelers probed at his nipples and flaccid penis. They were gentle, tender even, as they wandered over his naked body before inevitably finding his ass.

Marcus couldn’t help himself shudder with arousal as the tentacles began to tease and massage his entrance. It had been far too long since someone, anyone had touched Marcus in that way and Marcus blushed as his body began to automatically respond to the stimulation. 

The smaller feelers were still focusing on his nipples and cock as Marcus felt an uncomfortably warm sticky feeling at his entrance. Glancing over his shoulder Marcus’ eyes widened to see the mass of purple tentacles behind him, with one appendage the size of a human arm nudging at his ass.

“I spoke of their secretion.” The Steward gave Marcus’ hand a soft squeeze. “It will ease their entrance.”

“Right.” Marcus nodded, dropping his head back down to watch one of the smaller tendrils wrap itself around the base of his cock. “It just looks a little thick to be- ooooooohh shit.”

Marcus couldn’t stop himself from moaning as the smaller one began to vibrate around his shaft at the same moment the tip of the slick larger appendage breached the tight ring of muscle at his entrance. 

Steadily it began to work him open. The lubricated tentacle pushing into him, stretching him, spreading his hole open. It should have hurt. Marcus reasonably knew this. It had been years since he'd last had anal sex, and at least a year since he'd last used the small dildo he kept in his nightstand. But there was no pain. 

Instead a warm tingling feeling spread through his body and goosebumps danced over his skin. It felt good, really good. Sort of like being drunk, thought Marcus, as his head filled with a thick, heavy fog. His whole being felt hot and the familiar thrum of arousal started to build, his cock twitching to life as he moaned and gasped with each inch that entered him.

Lowering his head onto his foreheads, Marcus let out a loud groan as he felt the tendril inside himself throb and swell, stretching him further, preparing him for its eggs. Through the dizzying bliss, Marcus could feel himself being split open, his ass gaping around the thick sticky arm of the alien creature. It was such a strange sensation and somewhere in the back of his mind, Marcus felt a twinge of embarrassment. 

Here he was on all fours, ass in the air, stuffed full of a strange alien’s reproductive organs. His cock throbbed at the thought of the other Heroics seeing him like this. Would they be as arousal as him? 

"You are doing well." The voice of the Steward sounds so far away, although Marcus could still feel the giant man's hand covering his own. "You are prepared. The ovipositor comes now."

Marcus wanted to answer but all that came out of his mouth was a wanton, lustful moan. From his position, he could see the thick tentacle retract as a new tube-like appendage took its place. His cock swayed, flicking precum across the floor, as it eased itself inside his yawning hole. His body shook with desire as it filled him, and Marcus fought the urge to fuck himself on the massive organ. He yearned to see what his hole looked like in this moment and wondered if it was as ruined as it felt, gaping open and stretched beyond natural capacity.

He could feel the eggs entering him. Each one being pushed into place, bumping against those already there and Marcus watched with fascination as his stomach slowly started to distend and swell. The arousal now was almost painful and Marcus was aware of the whimpers and whines coming from his lips. His cock ached, held erect by the smaller thin tendrils gripping him firmly at the base. He wanted to cum, need to cum, and as each egg glided over his prostate, Marcus bucked and pleaded for release. 

The Steward was speaking but Marcus couldn’t hear him. He was lost in the thick fog that fill his mind as the aliens pumped more and more of their precious offspring into his gaping ass. Finally, he felt something inside him snap, and with a roaring moan, Marcus came undone. Spilling himself onto the floor of the chamber, stars danced in front of his eyes as his knees buckled. Then as his eyes rolled back into his head, everything went black, and Marcus surrendered to the hot intoxicating feeling surging through his body once more.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious but as Marcus slowly opened one eye, he realized he was still in the nesting room. Someone was stroking his hair, and opening both eyes Marcus was greeted by the smiling face of the Steward. 

“You did well Marcus Moreno.” The huge blue alien stroked a large thick finger down his cheek affectionately. “A whole clutch. More than I could have hoped for.”

“Is it over?” Marcus croaked out. His mouth felt dry and as he attempted to sit up, Marcus realized he was being cradled in the Steward’s arms. 

“Almost.” The Steward shifted, still holding Marcus, and lifted a glass of water to his parched lips. “Once the eggs have finished incubating they will leave you. A few more hours yet.”

As he took a couple of large gulps, Marcus looked down and took in his body for the first time. He was sticky, covered in sweat and his own cum. Judging by the amount spattered over his legs and the floor he’d cum several more times after blacking out. No wonder he felt exhausted, but even now Marcus could see the red tip of his hard shaft peek out from behind his stomach. 

As soon as his vision focused on it, Marcus couldn't take his eyes off his stomach. His usually flat stomach was round, protruding significantly, and clearly very full. Running a hand over it Marcus smiled as he felt little shudders and twitches from the eggs inside. They were alive. They were safe. He just had to be patient and soon they'd leave the warmth of his body. And with any luck them going out would be just as much fun as when they went in.

[arkofangels]

{Anomalous Beginnings  II ch.1}

Summary: After being forcibly displaced from your multiverse, you find yourself in a reality unfamiliar with your origins or purpose. When the Sorcerer Supreme, Doctor Strange, confronts you about your anomalous presence, you’re forced to adapt quickly—right down to altering your accent to blend in. As mistrust turns to curiosity, you and Strange form an uneasy alliance, setting the stage for a partnership that may determine the fate of realities far beyond your own.

a/n: little bit of doctor strange in his sassy era

The Sanctum Sanctorum was quiet, save for the faint hum of magical wards layered through its ancient walls. Stephen Strange sat in his study, poring over a shimmering projection of the multiverse. His fingers hovered above the intricate web of threads, tracing a faint disturbance. One thread was frayed and pulsing erratically, its energy sending ripples across the network. He frowned, his focus narrowing on it. This kind of anomaly didn’t appear often, and when it did, it rarely resolved itself.

A sudden surge of energy rippled through the room. Strange stiffened, the projection vanishing as he rose to his feet. A low hum built in the air, growing louder until it was a roar. Without hesitation, he conjured a protective barrier, his crimson Cloak of Levitation snapping into place as he turned toward the source.

The air shimmered violently in the center of the Sanctum’s grand hall, the distortion widening into a crackling tear in reality. With a flash of light and a deafening *boom*, the tear closed, leaving behind a figure sprawled on the polished stone floor.

Strange approached cautiously, his hands glowing with latent magic. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice sharp.

You groaned, pushing yourself upright. Your attire was odd—sleek, utilitarian, and distinctly unlike anything Strange had seen before. You brushed the dust off your shoulders and glanced around, your eyes landing on him. Recognition flickered across your face.

“Oh, great,” you muttered, your tone laced with frustration and disbelief. Your accent was unmistakably foreign—not from another country, but entirely alien, with lilting tones and inflections that didn’t belong to this world.

Strange’s brow furrowed. “And you are?”

You groaned again, brushing your hair from your face. “An anomaly. Or, at least, that’s what your timeline thinks,” you replied, your unusual accent making the words sound almost melodic.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not from here.”

“Give the man a prize,” you quipped, dragging yourself to your feet. Your tone was dry, but your voice sounded out of place against the Sanctum’s austere backdrop. You sighed, placing a hand to your temple. “Hold on a second. This isn’t going to work.”

Before Strange could respond, you muttered an incantation under your breath, your fingers glowing faintly. The air shimmered subtly around your throat as the spell took effect. When you spoke again, your accent was gone, replaced with one indistinguishable from someone native to Strange’s world. “There. That should make things easier.”

Strange’s wariness didn’t fade. “What did you just do?”

“Adapted,” you said simply. “You’re welcome, by the way. My original accent? Let’s just say it’d have distracted you the whole time.”

“Interesting,” Strange muttered, though his suspicion lingered. “Explain.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “In my multiverse, the multiverse isn’t some hidden secret. It’s public knowledge. People like me? We’re trained to monitor it, fix anomalies, and keep things stable. That’s my job. Or it *was* until I got yanked out of my thread and dumped into yours.”

Strange didn’t lower his guard. “How?”

“Something happened to your timeline’s version of me—if they even existed,” you replied, your tone grim. “They’re gone. And when they disappeared, something decided I was a good enough substitute. So now I’m here, and your universe is stuck with me.”

He regarded you silently, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he turned and summoned the multiverse projection again, the glowing threads weaving together like a vast, luminous tapestry. His eyes locked on the previously frayed thread. It had smoothed over, its jagged edges now neatly woven back into place, though a faint distortion lingered, a testament to your arrival.

He gestured to the healed thread. “This was you.”

You stepped closer, your gaze flicking to the projection. “Yeah. That’s me. The multiverse just patched itself up—well, mostly. The distortion is a side effect. It’ll probably settle. Eventually.”

Strange’s tone turned measured. “You’re a placeholder.”

You glanced at him, something weary in your expression. “That about sums it up.”

For a moment, silence filled the room. Strange studied the healed thread, his mind racing through the implications. You weren’t just displaced; you were tethered to his universe now, a living artifact of a frayed reality. He turned back to you, his expression still wary.

“You said you’re trained to deal with anomalies,” he said, his tone shifting slightly. “What does that entail?”

“Fixing broken threads, stabilizing breaches, cleaning up the messes people make when they start messing with realities they don’t understand,” you replied. “But this? This is new. I’ve never been the anomaly before.”

Strange folded his arms, his gaze appraising. “So you’re here to help?”

“I’m here because I don’t have a choice,” you said, leaning against the nearest wall. “But yeah, I want to fix this. I don’t belong here, and I’m not about to let your universe unravel while I’m stuck in it.”

He raised an eyebrow, his tone dry. “How generous of you.”

“Look,” you said, straightening. “I didn’t ask for this, but I know how these things work. If I don’t do something, this thread could unravel again, and trust me—you don’t want to see what happens when that goes unchecked.”

Strange hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Fine. You can stay—for now. But don’t expect me to trust you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “But you might want to get used to me being around. Something tells me this isn’t going to be a quick fix.”

The projection flickered again, the distortion rippling faintly. Strange’s jaw tightened as he dismissed it, turning toward the stairs. “If you’re going to stay here, you’ll follow my rules.”

You crossed your arms. “Sure, Doctor. Whatever you say.”

Strange paused, his eyes narrowing. “It’s *Doctor Strange.*”

You grinned, falling into step behind him. “Yeah, I’ll think about it.” 

Doctor Strange didn’t reply, but you caught the subtle tightening of his jaw as he ascended the staircase. His Sanctum was an intricate mix of the mystical and the modern, a labyrinth of ancient artifacts and arcane energy that felt as alive as the man leading you through it. Every step hummed with power, and though you’d been trained to handle such things, this place still gave you pause.  

“Don’t touch anything,” Strange warned, not bothering to glance back at you.  

“What, not even that glowing orb thing over there?” you teased, pointing at a crystalline sphere suspended in midair, swirling with iridescent light.  

He stopped abruptly, spinning to face you. “Especially not that. Unless you’re interested in finding out what it feels like to be erased from existence.”  

You raised your hands in mock surrender, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Alright, Doctor Serious, noted. No touching shiny, glowing things.”  

He turned again, muttering something under his breath about “anomalies with attitude” before continuing down the hall. You trailed after him, taking in the strange beauty of the Sanctum. The walls seemed to shift subtly as you walked, as if the building itself were watching you.  

“So, Doctor Strange,” you began, your tone casual. “What’s the plan here? You going to lock me in a magic cage, interrogate me, or just brood dramatically until I solve all your problems?”  

He stopped at a heavy wooden door, placing a hand against its surface. With a faint pulse of energy, it swung open, revealing a room filled with books, scrolls, and an assortment of magical instruments. He stepped inside and gestured for you to follow.  

“None of the above,” he said, pulling out a chair and gesturing to another across from it. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about your timeline, your multiverse, and what exactly you were doing when you ended up here.”  

You took the seat, leaning back with a casual air that clearly irritated him. “Alright, fine. Where do you want me to start? The part where my multiverse is way more advanced than yours, or the part where you all still seem to think magic and science are two separate things?”  

Strange arched a brow but didn’t take the bait. “Start with how your multiverse operates. If what you say is true, I need to understand what you know about managing dimensional threads.”  

You tilted your head, tapping a finger against the armrest as you considered. “Okay, here’s the short version. In my world, we’ve known about the multiverse for centuries. It’s not a secret—people learn about it in school, and there are entire agencies dedicated to monitoring it. Kind of like your sorcerers, but less... cloaks and incantations, more tech and precision.”  

“And you worked for one of these agencies?” Strange asked, his tone skeptical.  

“Worked for?” You scoffed. “Try ‘led operations for.’ I was good at it, too. Fixing frayed threads, closing breaches, neutralizing rogue anomalies—you name it, I’ve done it.”  

Strange studied you, his expression unreadable. “And yet you’re the anomaly now.”  

You leaned forward, your smirk fading. “Yeah. Funny how that works, isn’t it? One minute, I’m the one fixing the messes. The next, I’m the mess.”  

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on you as if trying to discern whether you were telling the truth. Finally, he leaned back, crossing his arms. “You said the distortion in the thread might settle over time. How long are we talking?”  

You shrugged. “Could be days, weeks, months. Depends on what caused it. If your timeline’s version of me was taken out of the equation, that’s not something the multiverse fixes overnight.”  

“And if it doesn’t settle?”  

“Then we’re both in trouble,” you admitted. “That distortion could spread. Other threads could unravel. Worst-case scenario, this entire dimension could collapse in on itself.”  

Strange’s expression darkened, his fingers drumming against the table. “Then we’ll have to act fast. If you’re as experienced as you claim, you’ll work with me to stabilize this.”  

“Sure thing, Doctor,” you said, flashing him a grin. “But let’s get one thing straight—I don’t take orders. We’re equals here.”  

He raised an eyebrow, his tone dry. “You’ve been here for less than an hour, and you’re already negotiating terms?”  

“Hey, you’re the one who said you didn’t trust me,” you shot back. “If we’re going to work together, we do it on equal footing. No hierarchy, no ‘because I said so.’ Deal?”  

Strange regarded you for a long moment, the tension thick in the air. Finally, he nodded. “Deal. But don’t test my patience.”  

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you said, rising from your chair. “Now, if we’re done with the Q&A, I’d like to get a better look at that thread distortion. You’ve got some fancy magic tools, right?”  

He stood as well, gesturing for you to follow him again. “This way. But remember—don’t touch anything unless I tell you to.”  

“Got it, Doctor Bossy.”  

He sighed, but you caught the faintest hint of a smirk as he led you out of the room. though the path ahead was uncertain, one thing was clear—you were both in this together, whether you liked it or not.  

[fancyfeathers]

I just had the funniest thought ever. I imagined that the yandere justice league darlings reacting to high world scale disasters differently than other people. Maybe at first they were scared normally but then they got used to it. Even coming up with codes depending on how dangerous it is and reacting differently. For instance; Big mutant monsters: Code Green (Bad but Superman can handle it), Aliens: Code Blue ( Worst than monsters but not really serious), but the likes of Darkside, Trigon or the Anti Monitor: Code Black (⚠️⚠️⚠️. Run!). What are your thoughts?🤣

Yandere!Justice League AU Masterlist

Oh absolutely they would have something like this, though some darlings are less phased by things than others, like any darling of a Green Lantern, none of them give a fuck. Like Hal could be shaking his darling awake because something is wrong and he has to get her out of there before he goes to help the rest of the league and she just looks at him with a look that could kill because he woke her up, none of them care about anything because it feels like every other week one of the lanterns is off planet doing something to stop something and they honestly cannot bother themselves to keep track.

Now other darlings of the Justice League may be more worried about it because they basically stay home unless it is like a code black that you used in your example, the lanterns’ darlings are at the watchtower or the hall of justice so often because their partner is off planet that they really just do not care. Then some are just stressed, especially the ones who have kids and they have to deal with the superpowered children (lord help Barry’s darling and Clark’s darling) and the fact that the world could end.

Like with this I’m imagining all of darlings being dropped off to the watchtower or the hall of justice in the middle of the night before it gets locked down, some of them have their children with them still in their pajamas, and most of them are worried and then there is just Kyle’s darling asleep on a couch, Hal’s darling looking like she is about to fall asleep sitting up, then Guy’s and John’s darlings are laying down on the carpet and everyone thinks it’s because of stress of the situation and-

“No, they’re just tired because they got woken up.”

“I’m gonna murder… Hal when he… he gets back…”

“Ya, don’t wake them up right now, they’re pissed already.”

I also feel like Martian Manhunter’s darling would not be bothered much at all, but not like how the Green Lanterns’ darlings are calm, but calm because J'onn literally manipulated her mind to not panic because if she panics it will just make the entire situation worse, she’ll be perfectly safe so there is no reason to worry.