#did she fix the whole timeline just for you? just to have you back?

[vasito-de-leche]

Hiya! I saw that requests were open, and I wanted to ask if you could do literally anything for Vertin and a reader who's romantic. I'd prefer if the reader was not involved with St. Pavlov in any way and actively avoids/makes it known they hate the Foundation, but I'd love anything that has to do with just Vertin tbh.

Anyway that's all, have a good day/night!

;R1999 VERTIN - "this life and the next"

Vertin x Reader. 1.1k words. hurt/comfort It's the end of an era and you have to say goodbye to the love of your life. But Vertin isn't ready to let go of you yet - she'll always find you in this life and the next.

I went for a little oneshot for this one and tried to do the opposite of my usual stuff to focus on the reader's POV for once lolol. still kept things pretty vague (hopefully) so this can be read as an arcanist/human reader!

ty for the request nonnie! not sure if the romantic part came across because, well. MY HAND SLIPPED WHEN WRITING THIS AND I GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY. HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAY!

Her hand slides into yours.

Vertin's skin is cold, it always has been, but her grip is firm and steady whenever she holds you. There is an unwavering confidence in her movements that sweeps you off your feet, like this is simply how things were meant to be.

Like the whole universe was meant for you and her, and nothing else.

You know of her role and title - the Timekeeper - and just the thought alone makes your chest ache. You know the things they expect of her, back in that awful institution of self-righteous bureaucrats, and your free hand curls up into a fist. You know of her safe haven, a pocket dimension in that suitcase she carries everywhere, but what good is it for when she's still trapped in a gilded cage?

This is an unspoken truth, one no one dares to mention in her presence - all the people she's saved throughout the eras, they know that their freedom and their future comes at the cost of hers. You know this, and so does she.

Above all, you know her.

She's Vertin, your precious, little dove. She's cold and she's the warmest person you ever met. She's hard to read and every little detail about her betrays that stoic nature. She will never stop trying to do the right thing, even when dealt the worst possible hand. You love her for it.

And you love that, at the end of the world, she's chosen to be here with you.

The timer on her forearm continues ticking down, but you don't care what the bold orange numbers say because the moment they reach zero, your life will end. And you've chosen enjoy every single second you have left with her.

If life were a movie, this would've been the perfect third act climax - a temporary goodbye between people who are destined to be together against all odds. There would be a fade to black, and the next scene would show you and Vertin, older and happier than ever, unbothered by the problems of a distant past.

Vertin calls out your name, bringing you back to the current present - your chest feels lighter than ever even as the rain begins to pour.

"I'm sorry. We only have about-"

"Hush, hush. I don't want to hear about that right now." You're quick to silence her with a gentle finger atop her lips. It's your turn to ease her worries, after all the burdens she's chosen to carry. "I want to hear what you think about the future."

There's a moment of silence, she's considering your words very carefully. You don't need to be a genius to know that she's dying to ask you to join her. You could brave the storm with her and everyone else if you try hard enough - but you're not willing to become another pawn for the Foundation. You can't do that to yourself, you've seen the way they treated Vertin, Sonetto, Matilda - everyone else. You've seen what Manus Vindictae do to their people.

"...Right now?" You nod at this, it's only fair after she's asked pretty much everyone she knows. You want to hear it, the hopes she holds in her heart. Vertin takes a deep breath. "You want to know what I think of the future, what I want in it. Correct?"

Somehow, the intensity of her voice makes your heart skip a beat. Like she's made up her mind about something important.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see it - water moving up, rain being reversed - but you keep your focus on Vertin and nod once again.

She pulls you into her arms, a hand in the back of your neck and the other one wrapped around your waist. In this position, with your face nestled in her neck, all you can see is the rise and fall of her chest in the little space left between your bodies.

Your face is flushed with both love and embarrassment - even now, Vertin is trying to protect you from seeing the chaos that surrounds you. You want to speak, to tease her for being such a reliable knight in shining armor, tell her that she can't keep making you fall in love with her, that you're meant to be the hopeless romantic - but she beats you to it.

"I want to see the future you told me about. One without pain, where everything is just one never-ending fairytale. I want a gallant, white horse to ride with you into the sunset. All those cheesy things that you love, I want all of them."

Her hold on you tightens. There is a constant, loud booming sound, like a dying star, that makes your ears hurt but Vertin's voice rises above it. Your grip on her is just as desperate.

"And I don't want to say goodbye to anyone ever again."

It's the end of an era, you can feel yourself dissipating, being pulled apart from inside out by time itself. The tears flowing from your eyes fly upwards instead, and you only let out a choked laugh when you pull away from Vertin, just enough to see her face. She's crying just like you.

"You're so mean, even now you're calling me cheesy and making fun of me." Your voice breaks when you say this, but you still manage to keep a light-hearted tone. "Hey, Vertin?"

There's a glimmer of hope in her eyes, like she's waiting for you to say yes, to dive head-first into her suitcase and forget about this bitter moment.

"Do you think we get our happy ever after in another universe? That we'll find each other, no matter what?"

Just as you stop feeling your feet, your legs, your arms - Vertin leans forward, her forehead against yours. You hate hearing her so vulnerable and broken like this, but you still commit every detail of her face and her voice to memory.

"Yes. Yes, no matter what it takes, I'll always find you."

"Promise?"

Those are the last words you utter before the universe rips you apart and the world fades to black.

You jolt awake, feeling a suffocating pressure in your chest. It's hard to breathe, even more so now that you realize you're crying. Something shifts to your left, the sound of blankets rustling about - the sudden movement makes you flinch, still dazed in your fear.

A cold hand slips off from yours. Someone yawns and whispers your name in the faint light of dawn.

"...Deep breaths, okay? Make sure to breathe with me." Her words are rehearsed, calm. You breathe in and out as she instructs. Once you calm down, the woman next to you sits up and rests her head on your shoulder. Her long, silver locks tickle against your skin.

"Feeling better, love?"

Almost on instinct, your hand reaches out for hers, now tracing circles on her bare forearm. No more "Storms", no more orange numbers, no more goodbyes.

"Yeah, it was just a... dumb nightmare. Thanks for the help."

This is your happy ever after. You turn just enough to kiss the top of her head and smile into her hair when she yawns again. That one is contagious, you yawn as well, feeling much more relaxed.

"Mhm...Oh, your breath smells like the leftovers we ate for dinner."

"Vertin! Way to ruin the moment!"

[angelfic]

— I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: you haven’t seen theo since he supposedly left you to join the other side. now that he’s back and has revealed his true intentions to you, you’re finding it hard to be forgiving.

warnings: swearing, kissing, tiniest bit of angst, very unedited. not much else other than a whole load of waffle… my bad

author’s note: this is a sort of fix-it fic… kinda. yes I am very much stealing the essence (you could say) from marauders fics because I prefer writing those and yes it’s basically this drabble recycled and yes grimmauld place is still the order headquarters well into the war just don’t question my timeline and you’ll be fine ok ty enjoy xoxo

12 Grimmauld place feels unsettling at the best of times, what with the portrait of Walburga Black hurling insults at you every time her curtain slips open and the row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall. The Order of the Phoenix holding hushed up meetings in the dining room while you and your friends are forced to stay upstairs isn’t anything new or surprising, but the last few days feel different.

Instead of Mrs Weasley telling members of the Order to whisper when you, her kids and Harry and Hermione are in the room, she flaps about ordering them to stop talking altogether. At first you think you’re imagining it when her eyes flick over to you every time, until you bring it up to Ginny and Hermione.

“You’re not imagining it,” Hermione mutters as she shuts the door of the bedroom and casts a quick Muffliato charm before settling cross legged on the bed opposite you and Ginny. “I overheard Mrs Weasley and Tonks in the kitchen this morning, talking about how the Order is arranging transport for some Death Eater spies to come back here.”

You gasp, pretending to be scandalised. “You mean you were evesdropping. That’s not very prefect-y of you.” Ginny snorts at Hermione’s indignant glare and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way her cheeks have slightly reddened. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m kidding. But what’s that got to do with her looking at me like I’ve gone through a personal tragedy?”

“Your ex-boyfriend did leave you to go join the Death Eaters,” Ginny points out. Hermione gapes at her, but Ginny merely throws her hands up in exasperation. “Well, he did! No point beating around the bush!”

A lump rises in your throat at the mention of Theodore. Truth be told, you’ve tried not to think about what happened since the last time you spoke about him. ‘Spoke’ being a strong word since it was mostly crying and sniffling and blowing your nose into tissue after tissue in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had made your favourite dinner that night and brought you up a hot chocolate to make you feel better. And it really had- so much so that you refused to speak about him since.

You’re more angry than you are sad now, which makes you nod at Ginny’s words. “You’re right. He’s an arsehole, there’s no point in tip-toeing around it for my sake.” Hermione frowns a little, worry clear as day on her face, but you don’t stop talking. “Besides, we’re on opposite sides and this is a war happening. Not some silly, childish break-up. He chose to be a Death Eater and if we have to fight him, so be it.”

Hermione and Ginny stay quiet for a few seconds and watch you breathe heavily. Thankfully, before either of them can speak, Harry and Ron come bursting into the room.

“They’ve only gone and brought Death Eaters into the bloody building!” Ron shakes his head.

Harry snorts at Ron’s dramatics. “Ex-Death Eaters. Apparently. Still a bit dodgy, in fairness.”

“I thought they were spies,” you say, unable to help your curiosity as you stand up. Ginny and Hermione follow you out of the room as you all peak over the bannister to try and get a glimpse of the action downstairs. Annoyingly, there only seem to be a couple of dishevelled looking Order members milling around.

“Maybe Mrs Weasley and Tonks got it mixed up, or maybe they aren’t privy to what’s going on…” Hermione frowns, deep in thought. “I don’t think anyone but Dumbledore knows what’s actually going on.”

Harry makes an irritated sound. “What’s new?”

“Oh, by the way, Mum sent us up to get you lot for dinner,” Ron says absentmindedly as he tries to get a good look over your shoulder at whatever is happening in the hall downstairs. “Mind you, that was before all the Death Eater business so she’ll probably send us right back up.”

The five of you quickly shuffle downstairs to get to the dining room and while your stomach is growling loud enough to forget any thoughts of Order business, Ron and Harry linger in the hall a little in an attempt to get some answers. You don’t doubt Harry will get some, being the Chosen One and all.

You nudge and elbow your way into the dining room where you’re happily surprised to see a messy-haired Tonks yawning over a bowl of soup. She smiles sleepily when she spots the three of you.

“Hi, girls,” she mumbles through a yawn. “Merlin, I’m exhausted. I keep falling asleep in my soup. Good thing it’s mushroom.” She points to her newly platinum blonde hair that matches the contents of her bowl.

“Why’re you so tired?” Hermione asks as she ladles some soup into bowls for you, Ginny and herself. Her voice is quiet as not to attract attention from Mrs Weasley with her questioning. “Is it to do with tonight’s, uh, Order business?”

��Yep.”

Tonks looks as though she’s about to drift off and Ginny seems to jump at the opportunity to gather information.

“So, what are their names?” She gets straight to the point, glaring at you when you choke on your soup a little, not expecting her to be so blunt.

You and Hermione stop eating and wait with bated breath for Tonks to refuse to answer. She merely yawns again, before talking. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”

“Meet them?” you ask, unable to help yourself. “Aren’t they… uh, you know… dangerous?”

“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to think so,” Tonks says, shrugging. You grow a little frustrated at this, since Dumbledore isn’t exactly known for having straightforward plans. While you know his intentions are good, someone he thinks is safe could very well be the opposite. While you ponder this, Tonks’ next words quickly turn your irritation into shock. “The others were understandably quite wary, what with one of them being You-Know-Who’s son and everything, but…”

You feel a ringing in your ear and every word coming from Tonks may as well be directed to her mushroom soup because you aren’t listening anymore. You-Know-Who’s son. You haven’t seen Mattheo since term ended, and even then it was only from a distance. You hadn’t spoken to him since Theo revealed his Dark Mark to you and you’d since avoided his entire friend group like the plague. If Mattheo is in the building, you can only hope and pray that Theodore isn’t with him.

Vaguely aware of someone shaking you by the shoulder, you snap out of your thoughts. “Who else is with Mattheo?” you ask Tonks, your voice sounding rough to your own ears. She blinks through her sleepiness, slightly startled awake by your unwavering eye contact. “Voldemort’s son. Who’s with him? What do they look like?”

You’re so focused on getting an answer from Tonks, and Hermione and Ginny are clearly on the same page as you now since they’re both silent and waiting for a response, that none of you notice Mrs Weasley entering the dining room.

“Tonks, is he blonde or-?”

“Enough!” Mrs Weasley interrupts you hastily, making everyone jump. She sounds panicked, but the look she throws Tonks is stern, like a warning to keep silent. When she turns back to you however, her eyes soften and her voice is gentle, albeit with a hint of annoyance. “I asked Dumbledore not to bring them here while everyone was awake. I didn’t want you all upset again, dear. Look, you can have your dinner upstairs, I’ll bring it up to you!”

You’re grateful for her concern, but it’s a little hard to feel anything other than the pit in your stomach since she’s just confirmed what you were dreading.

Ginny speaks up first, angry on your behalf. “Mum, she deserves to know if that awful git is in the same house as her! I say she ought to go and deck him in the face.”

“Ginny!” Hermione looks at her in exasperation as Mrs Weasley gasps, horrified. “That sort of attitude isn’t going to help anyone.”

“You’re right,” you mumble, getting up from your seat.

Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“I should go and deck him in the face.”

Hermione’s sputtering falls to deaf ears as you abruptly leave your seat to go out into the hall, the scraping of chairs behind you indicating that everyone is following closely.

Realistically, you have no plans to actually hit Theodore. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever successfully landed a punch before in your life. This doesn’t stop you charging into the hallway and elbowing your way through the huddle of Order members to get to the door they seem to be crowded around.

Kingsley Shacklebolt is the last of them to stumble out of your way, clearly too surprised by your sudden presence to continue guarding the door. You raise a shaky hand to the doorknob and hesitate for a second, suddenly nervous. Kingsley takes this moment to snap out of his surprise and redirects his attentions to what you’re about to do next.

“My dear, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to-”

“Kingsley, do you have any idea why I’m standing here?” you say curtly, cutting him off.

He throws a quick glance at Mrs Weasley, almost as if it’s by reflex. Clearly she’s told more people than Dumbledore to keep word of Theodore far from you. “I, uhm, I may have heard a thing or two…”

“Right, so are you going to stop me entering this room, then?” you ask boldly. Your voice catches slightly on the end of your sentence and Kingsley falters a little.

“Well, really I should-“ he begins, eyes darting to your own slightly teary ones. He sighs. “No, I’m not. Just try not to hex the boy.”

He steps out of your way and you finally barge into room, the door swinging open as you stay lingering near the entrance. The room is just as dingy as the rest of the house, lit up by some candles dotted around the room

You first see Professor McGonagall getting up abruptly from her chair where she was previously sat next to a standing Dumbledore. He merely peers at you over his half moon spectacles and raises his eyebrows.

You suddenly feel a little silly, and rude for barging in like that. “Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I-“

You stop talking when see movement on the other side of the room from the corner of your eye. Just as Tonks had said, Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort is standing right there, flanked by Lorenzo Berkshire… and Theodore. Your mouth goes dry.

As soon as you catch his eye, he smiles broadly at you. You don’t return the gesture, taking his appearance in instead. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him. No visible injuries, but he’s definitely seen better days. His dirty blonde hair is overgrown and unruly as it falls into his eyes which, despite brightening up at your presence, are tired.

You keep your expression as impassive as you can, slightly angry with yourself at the twinge of concern you feel. It was all well and good interrupting whatever meeting was happening in here before you came in, but now that you’re here… you have no idea what to do or say.

Theo’s smile falters when you continue to stand there with clenched fists and a stony face and you’re tempted to just run out of the room when Dumbledore clears his throat.

“Well,” your Headmaster says pleasantly, as though you were all engaged in polite conversation rather than a strained silence. “This reunion was certainly a little earlier than anticipated, but I suppose that can’t be helped. I think we ought to give Mr Nott and Miss Y/L/N a moment alone.”

“Uh, can’t we stay in here too?” Lorenzo asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting to the watchful crowd standing right outside the door. You can’t blame him for wary, being an ex-Death Eater in a house full of Order members.

Mattheo nods, throwing an arm around Theodore’s shoulder, ignoring the glare he receives. “Yeah. These two won’t mind a bit of company. Right?” he asks you cheerfully. You blink at him.

“Relax, Berkshire,” Professor McGonagall says, rolling her eyes at the way Lorenzo has inched further into the room. She snaps her fingers to get them moving out the door. “Nobody is going to hex you, you silly boy.”

“Can’t say the same for Theo,” Mattheo mutters as he walks past you and follows everyone out, shutting the door.

You don’t really have any choice but to look at Theo now. He tries a smile again, despite the fact you’re not returning it and he takes a step towards you.

You immediately step back.

Theo flinches ever so slightly, his eyes unable to hide that he’s hurt.

Good, you think viciously.

Sighing, he looks at you imploringly like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. “You’re angry with me,” he settles on muttering, his voice quiet in the dark room.

You let out a derisive laugh. “Angry? You worked that out, huh? Death-Eater’s didn’t completely addle your brain then, did they?”

“Darling, please let me explain,” Theo pleads, taking another few steps towards you.

Rather than stepping back, you whip out your wand and point it right at him. He doesn’t back away, merely raising his hands in surrender and arching an eyebrow as if to ask you if you’re serious. This angers you further.

“Do not call me darling,” you hiss, raising your wand further. Theo doesn’t react, as though he knows you’d never actually use magic to hurt him. Your hand trembles with the weight of the realisation that no, you wouldn’t hurt him. That you’ve actually been more worried that becoming a Death Eater would get him hurt than him betraying you. He left you with nothing but a cold goodbye and you still can’t help caring.

Feeling stupid, and a little bit pathetic, you drop your hand to your side and allow him to continue standing before you as he lowers his hands. You grit your teeth and cross your arms. “Explain.”

Theo lets out a relieved breath. “I never wanted to leave you,” he says, and you immediately roll your eyes. “I- no, look at me. I didn’t.”

“That doesn’t explain the fact that you did,” you deadpan, turning away to leave. Theo quickly reaches out to grasp both of your arms and gently turns you towards him.

You stiffen at the first physical contact you’ve had with him in months, your body betraying you and erupting goosebumps all over your arms in spite of your anger.

“I lied about it to protect you,” he whispers, peering at you through the strands of hair that are stubbornly falling into his eyes from weeks of neglect. Theo looks slightly pained and you recognise his expression to mean that he’s desperately trying to phrase his next words correctly. His eyes flick over to your right arm. No. To his left wrist, where you know his Dark Mark to be. “You can ask Dumbledore if you don’t believe me… Me and the others only ever took the Mark so we’d be able to spy on The D- on him.”

The relief hits you like a freight train and lightens your heavy chest all in one go. You hadn’t just felt betrayed by your boyfriend leaving you all those months ago. You had felt dread at the possibility of him joining a Pureblood supremacist’s cult. Dread at the idea that the views he’d shared with you were all lies and that he was a completely difference person to the one you loved.

Despite the relief, the sting of the breakup still lingers with you.

“That meant you had to be a prick when you left me?” you ask, voice shaking against your will. His eyes soften.

“Yes,” he says weakly. “How else could I have left you without worrying that… that he could use you against me if he found me out? I never wanted to take the Mark and it killed me when I saw the look on your face.”

Your scowl, trying your best to distract Theodore from the fact that your vision has gone blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. By the look on his face, you doubt you’re doing a very good job. “Do you really think I would have cared about a fucking tattoo, if you had just told me the truth?”

“No, I know,” Theo sighs, absentmindedly drawing closer to you. “I’ll explain anything you want, but the work we did was too close to The Dark Lord to risk telling anyone about at the time. Dumbledore made me, Mattheo and Enzo swear not to say anything. It was safer that way.”

“Did you make an Unbreakable Vow?” you whisper, stiller than ever.

Theo furrows his brows. “No, but-”

You pull away from him abruptly and back away to the door, ignoring the way his hands reach out in an attempt to hold your arms again. “Then I hope the information you got for Dumbledore was worth it.”

You don’t look back at him, nor do you check to see if anyone is in the hallway as you run upstairs and into your room, slamming the door shut as you lean against it, breathing heavily. You stay there for a while, reeling from your anger and irritation at the fact you still have to stay in this bloody house while Theodore’s in it.

The next few days are confusing to say the least. Theo doesn’t seem to have any plans to avoid you, but he respects your space.

Sort of.

He isn’t badgering you every second of the day, but somehow whichever room you’re in, he finds himself in as well. Whenever you try and reach for something, even if it’s not on a particularly high shelf, or particularly far away, Theo beats you to it, ever the gentleman.

It’s starting to unnerve you a little.

One particular afternoon, you walk into the kitchen hoping to make a cup of tea in peace. At the table sits Theo, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. When he spots you, he sits up straighter and you dawdle stupidly at the entrance.

Before you can snap out of it and remember what you came in here for, Theo gets up and walks over to the mugs. “Tea?” he asks politely, and, you think, a little hopefully.

“Will you make it and let me drink it alone?” you ask bluntly.

“I’ll make it and sit with you in silence,” he offers, undeterred despite your coldness.

Narrowing your eyes, you glance at the clock and sigh. It’s too early in the morning to put off having your tea, so you allow it. ��Fine. Milk and-”

“Two sugars,” he cuts you off with an annoyingly smug smile. “I remember.”

You poke your cheek with your tongue, but stay silent as he turns his attentions to the kettle. Theo’s face quickly falls when he realises he has no idea how to use it. Your impassive expression almost cracks and you have to bite back a laugh as he examines the thing. Walking over to the counter, you drag the kettle so that it’s closer to you. And so you don’t have to be as close to Theo, but that’s besides the point.

“It’s already filled with water, you just need to flip the switch so it starts boiling,” you explain, pointing to the little part. Theo places his cigarette in between his lips as he furrows his brows, clearly skeptical of the muggle contraption. You suppose you can’t blame him since you, Hermione and Harry have had to explain the kettle to countless members of the Order since it was introduced to the house a few months ago.

You still don’t know where the plug socket is and considering the fact that Grimmauld Place has never inhabited muggles, you aren’t going to bother asking.

When Theo flicks the switch and sees the light turn red, a satisfied smile graces his lips where the cigarette still hangs. You look away from his mouth very quickly and go to sit down. Unable to leave without making things awkward, you decide the only thing to do is watch Theo make two cups of tea. He doesn’t need instruction since he knows exactly how you like it, but something catches in your throat when he uses a green mug. Your favourite colour.

The only sound in the kitchen is the clink of the spoon swirling in the cups and Theo soon brings both cups over with an incredibly concentrated frown to make sure there’s no spillages as he sets one down on the table. The other he hands to you himself and you have to clench your jaw when you grab it, your own hands brushing against his, which he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move away.

“Thanks,” you mutter, trying to use the burning heat of the mug against your skin to distract from the fact that you have tingles.

“S’alright,” he replies, a barely restrained grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of the mug as you sip your tea.

Damn, you think to yourself. Why is it always so good when he makes it?

The two of you settle into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you drink your tea and he smokes. The puffs are very carefully directed away from you, but you can’t help wrinkling your nose out of habit. Back when you were still together, you were always firm about him cutting down and now you have to restrain yourself from reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his lips to throw it away like you used to do with ease. He never objected.

Theo notices your looks all the same, and it’s almost like he’s reading your thoughts. He raises a brow, almost daring you to remove the cigarette yourself. “You want me to stop?”

“I don’t care,” you say in an attempt to sound nonchalant. Shrugging, you try your hardest not to react to his obvious bait, but it’s like a bloody reflex. “It’s your lungs on the line, not mine. If you want to lose five years off your life, then by all means, go ahead. I really couldn’t care-”

“As you wish,” he interrupts you, grinning like an idiot again. The next thing you know, he’s putting out the cigarette, and sipping his tea instead. He doesn’t even like tea.

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” you grumble, slightly pleased nonetheless.

He merely hums, taking a gulp of his tea. You accidentally let out a snort of laughter when he grimaces at the taste. Theo’s lips quirk up in amusement when you laugh, unrestrained and it’s only when you catch him staring at you that you quickly stop.

The smug expression on his face quickly returns as though he knows you’re finding it hard to be fully angry at him.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap, drawing your knees up on your chair towards your chin. “You look stupid. And your hair is too long.”

Theo huffs out a surprised laugh. “My hair is too long?” he asks incredulously, reaching up to tug a piece down so it reaches the bottom of his nose. “Hm, you’re right. You cut it pretty good that one time. Would you do it again for me?”

“Mrs Weasley is better at it,” you say, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I’m sure she’d be delighted if you just ask.”

“The way she looks at me, I’d be lucky to get away with my head still attached to my body,” he drawls, wholly unimpressed by your suggestion. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m not done being angry with you yet,” you reply simply, draining the contents of your mug. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me anywhere near your head with a pair of scissors either.”

Theo nods slowly, a smile gracing his lips— strange, since you just threatened physical violence. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to be angry with me forever.”

“I- Well, I didn’t mean-” you stutter pointlessly, cutting yourself off with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early for this, leave me alone.”

“That was the first cigarette I’ve had since before I left,” Theo says quietly, searching your face for a reaction, almost nervously.

You aren’t quite sure how to respond to this random piece of information and you find yourself floundering. “Uhm. Okay, good. That’s… Yeah, that’s great for you and your lungs, well done. Saves money too. They were actually, uh, saying on the news the other day that the average amount people spend on-”

“Darling, as much as I appreciate it, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he interrupts, the ghost of a smirk at his lips. You scowl at him for letting you go on for so long and motion for him to get to the bloody point. “Every time I brought a cigarette to my lips, I remembered you weren’t going to be there to nag me about it. It just feels pointless now.”

You stare at him. “Nice to know that my nagging was what you remembered me by.”

“That’s not-” Theo cuts himself off with a laugh that sounds halfway to a groan. “Merlin, you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Harry walks in which you find odd considering it’s so early in the morning and him and Ron are usually only out of bed when Mrs Weasley yells them down for breakfast.

“Morning,” he says through a yawn. The greeting is directed at you, but he sends an expectant look at Theo right after. “Time to leave, Nott.

“Leave for where?” you ask before you can help yourself. You realise with a start that Harry and Theo are dressed and ready while you’re still in your pyjamas. “Where do you have to go?”

“Horcrux hunting,” Harry says flippantly, as though he’s just announced he’s going fishing. Hermione had filled you in on the information Theo and the others had ascertained from their time with Voldemort, but you didn’t even consider them or Harry would actually be going with the Order to find them. “Nott and the others know more than we do, so they’re coming with.”

You level a look at Theo, who seems to be pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. “Thanks for sharing that tiny tidbit of information, by the way,” you mutter sourly.

He winces, getting up slowly from his chair. “It, uh, didn’t seem that important. It’s only a quick little task anyway. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m not stupid,” you scoff, standing up so you can attempt to look a little more dignified as you confront Theo. Harry, on the other hand, looks as though he regrets his decision to enter the kitchen in the first place. Despite this, you hadn’t missed the way he furrowed his brows when Theo spoke. “Even if Harry wasn’t looking at you like you were speaking gibberish, I would know that you’re lying. It’s a Horcrux you’re leaving to get. Not the weekly food shop.”

Harry snickers at this, though quickly turns it into a cough when Theo sends him a withering glare. Sighing, you decide to ignore him for the moment and turn to Harry instead

“Be safe,” you say, gentler than before. “And don’t be a hero, just try and get out of there safely.”

“Pfft,” Harry waves you off, a sarcastic tone entering his voice. “When have you known me to do that?”

You roll your eyes, cracking a smile as he walks away, supposedly to find the rest of the group.

“Don’t I get a ‘be safe’ as well?” Theo tries for a casual, joking voice. A hint of irritation seeps through it though. You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, slightly flustered at his obvious jealousy.

“Uhm, okay. Bye,” you say stiffly, fiddling with the loose string of your cardigan sleeve so you have something to do with your hands other than ball them up at your sides. Theo seems to be satisfied with the curt response, or more likely your lack of insults, and he nods, turning away to leave. As you watch him walk away, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbles up in your stomach and you blurt out the only thing you can think of. “Don’t die!”

He slowly turns around, very clearly holding back a grin. You think you might thump the boy. “Will you forgive me if I come back alive?”

“Well,” you huff, crossing your arms. As petty as it may be, you’ve always found it hard to loosen a grudge. You settle for a shrug instead. “Come back alive first and then I’ll see.”

Theo takes two steps forward and closes the short distance that was previously allowing you to keep a cool- well, cool-ish, head. He keeps both arms behind his back, however, as he dips his head down slightly.

“My sweet, stubborn girl,” Theo says in a low voice. His proximity flounders you for a moment and you don’t even protest that no, you’re not his anything. The way your breathing turns shallow would be contradicting that greatly though. “I’ll try my best. And if I don’t come back alive, I promise you can yell at my ghost.”

You scowl, and this time you actually do thump him on the arm. “You’re not funny, you idiot. Now, go. I can already hear Mattheo irritating the patience out of Harry.”

Theo gives you a little two-fingered salute and a wink before he walks away again, leaving you alone with a funny feeling in settling in your stomach.

You aren’t the only one who sits anxiously in the living room waiting for the group to return with the infamous Horcrux. Ron has eaten his way through three bowls of cereal and rapidly makes a start on his fourth while Hermione tries to distract herself with reading a book that she hasn’t noticed is upside down.

After another hour goes by, Ginny, who was previously pacing up and down the stairs, sighs and turns Hermione’s book the right way up which startles her, causing her to give up altogether.

You sit cross-legged and completely still, other than switching your legs every time one of them goes numb. Eventually, you get so sick of watching Mrs Weasley mop over the same spot on the floor for the fifth time that you jump up from your seat, causing her to start and knock over the bucket of dirty mop water all over the floor.

“Oh, dear,” she mutters, waving her wand and siphoning all the water up in a second.

“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” you say, wincing. “I’m just a little stressed since it’s been ages already-”

You get cut off by Hermione gasping at the sound of the front door opening along with voices. She grips your arm tightly. “They’re back!”

Barely registering the pain of her nails digging into the skin of your arm, you waste no time in running into the hall with the others to greet everyone at the door. You can’t help the relieved smile on your face when you do a quick head count and find everyone present.

As you get closer, you see how exhausted they look. Not to mention the fact they’re dripping water all over the rug. Harry stands at the front of the group looking like he might collapse if he stands any longer and Hermione and Ron pick up on this as they rush over to help him inside.

As they stumble him across the hall, you stop craning your neck as Theo comes into view. The relief you previously felt leaves you faster than your body knows how to deal with and you have to force yourself to breathe when you take in the state of him.

At first glance he doesn’t look particularly worse than the rest. They all have a vaguely haunted look in their eyes along with a sickly pallor like they haven’t seen the sun in days.

But the way Mattheo and Lorenzo are holding him up brings attention to the fact that all of his weight is being put on one leg. The other, to your horror, has a deep, bloody gash trailing down his thigh and onto his calf. The sight of blood steadily dripping onto the floor below has you frozen, almost mesmerised in a terrible way, and it’s not until Dumbledore speaks that you snap out of it and to attention.

“Miss Y/L/N, if you could please fetch Madam Pomfrey for me,” Dumbledore asks, his voice a lot calmer than you feel. You nod, turning away quickly before Theo can see the panic which is probably clear as day on your face.

It takes a scary second to find Madam Pomfrey, but as soon as you do, she gets down to business preparing her supplies in the living room which is as far as Theo seems to be able to make it.

He lays on the sofa, breathing shallowly as Madam Pomfrey crouches down beside him to begin assessing the wound. Peering at it closely, she looks up at Dumbledore sharply. “Inferi?”

“I’m afraid so,” he replies solemnly and you let out a choked sort of whimper.

“Merlin,” Ron whispers, looking like he might be sick. Whether that’s because Madam Pomfrey is cleaning Theo’s leg, or because of the mention of Inferi, you aren’t sure. “What the hell were you guys doing?”

“All will be explained, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore reassures him, looking over his spectacles. “However, I must insist that for now we allow dear Madam Pomfrey to tend to Mr Nott’s injuries.”

“Will you be able to heal him?” Mattheo asks, swallowing hard. The concern in his voice for his best friend has your heart clenching and you look to Madam Pomfrey just as earnestly for an answer.

“Yes, I dare say I can,” Madam Pomfrey says grimly, but she pulls out a couple little bottle of potions from her bag with a frown. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be extremely painful, unfortunately.”

“Can’t imagine what pain feels like,” Theo mumbles, shifting his position on the sofa slightly and wincing. His face goes whiter than before and he shuts his eyes tightly from the pain, but he still manages to talk, however hard it may be. “Not like I’ve just had Inferi mistaking my leg for their lunch.”

“No talking and no moving,” Madam Pomfrey instructs Theo, sending him a stern glare.

“Sorry-”

“Shhh!” you hiss, giving him a glare of your own. Theo’s eyes flutter open slightly and his lips quirk up when he sees you leaning over him as close as you can get without Madam Pomfrey shooing you away.

His smile quickly drops when Madam Pomfrey pours some purple liquid into the open wound, causing it to hiss and smoke. The groan that leaves Theo has you holding your breath and you fight the urge to shut your eyes and turn away.

“Merlin, I can’t watch,” Lorenzo gags, his skin turning even sicklier than before. Turning away, he holds onto Mattheo’s shoulder to steady himself, the latter looking more interested than anything as he peers at Theo’s sizzling cut. Lorenzo shakes his head and holds a hand over his mouth every time he can hear Madam Pomfrey pouring more of the potion. “Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”

“Mr Berkshire, if you are unable to watch, then don’t,” Madam Pomfrey snaps, screwing the bottle shut and grabbing another one. She waves her hand in an impatient shooing motion. “In fact, everyone out. Now! This isn’t a Quidditch match, for heaven’s sake!”

Dumbledore starts filing everyone out and you consider staying for a minute but Madam Pomfrey’s raised eyebrows have you hurtling out of the room with everyone else. Theo starts to say something, but a drop of something else makes him grit his teeth and the green smoke produced by the potion follows you out the door.

The next hour or so is filled with Harry, Mattheo and Lorenzo being fussed over by Mrs Weasley, who insists on them going up to bed once they’ve cleaned up and changed into dry clothing. Unfortunately for the rest of you, this means you won’t be getting an update any time soon. Dumbledore is, as always these days, nowhere to be seen.

“I wonder if they found the Horcrux,” you say under your breath to Hermione as she anxiously taps her foot against the kitchen floor.

“They did,” she says grimly, glancing impatiently at the clock. She has her thinking face on, brows furrowed and gaze distant. “It was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Harry quickly told me before Mrs Weasley sent them off. I wonder when they’ll wake up though… They didn’t look too happy, and I have a feeling it wasn’t all to do with Nott.”

You nod slowly, a weight lifting off your chest despite the last part. If, after all this, they hadn’t retrieved the Horcrux, you think you’d probably have gone to the bloody cave yourself.

“Theodore’s resting now, anyway,” Hermione adds, giving you a quick glance as though she’s waiting for a reaction. You keep your face as impassive as you can, attempting a casual nod. “Madam Pomfrey says he’s healing nicely and his leg will be fine. It’ll just be a bit sore for a few days. I’m sure he’s awake if you want to go see him.”

“I might,” you mumble, shrugging. You try to sound flippant, but the urge to clamber out of your seat probably shows because Hermione rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh, why don’t you just put him out of his misery?” she asks, her words coming out at the speed of light, like she’s been wanting to say it for a while. You blink at her in shock. Sighing, she leans over the table and her tone becomes gentle. “I know he lied to you, and you should be angry with him for that! But… well, it’s been a really awkward few days with him asking us where you are every second of the day. And, technically, he was never really a Death Eater, he was helping our side!”

Hermione takes a deep breath and exhales, slumping back in her seat as she waits for your reaction. You try not to laugh. “How long have you been holding that one in?”

“Since the second he turned up here,” she says, sagely. “Now, don’t change the subject! Go and see him. Go on, off you go!”

You stand up, swiftly dodging Hermione’s flapping hands to try and rush you out the door. “Okay, I’m going. It’s probably about time anyway,” you grumble, a fond smile creeping up on you nonetheless.

Looking satisfied, Hermione stops trying to usher you out and you make your way over to the living room again. The door is open and you sigh with relief when you notice the room is empty, bar Theo who’s in the same position as he was the last time you saw him. His eyes are shut and you wonder if he’s sleeping until you step on a creaky floorboard and he cracks one eye open.

“Hey,” you say quietly, tip-toeing into the room to perch on the coffee table adjacent to the sofa. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Theo replies, moving to sit up as much as he can. You suspect he’d have the same answer even if he was asleep. He looks a lot more awake than he did before and you feel your chest squeeze tightly when you realise how glad you are. Theo seems to notice this and he reaches over to hold one of your hands, detaching it from the way you grasp them both together. “I promised you I’d come back alive, didn’t I?”

You snort, shaking your head at his ability to be so chipper. “Alive and dripping blood all over the carpet. You know if Kreacher finds out it was you, he’ll murder you in your sleep, right?”

“It doesn’t count if I die now,” Theo protests, frowning as if you’re talking about a serious possibility and not joking. “Deal was you’d forgive me if I came back alive after finding the Horcrux, remember?”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think deeply about it as he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It causes you to momentarily lose your focus. “What I remember saying is that I would think about it.”

Theo shakes his head, a look of mock concern overtaking his features. “I think the stress of my injury has gotten to your memory… What I remember is you vowing to forgive me the moment I stepped foot in this place.”

“I think Madam Pomfrey’s painkillers are getting to you,” you say drily, moving to kneel on the floor next to him.

“She didn’t use any,” Theo grumbles, looking mournfully at the bandages on his leg. “She’s really sadistic, I’m telling you.”

You laugh, ducking your head so you aren’t flustered by the way Theo’s eyes focus on your smile with a grin of his own.

“You know what she told me would help with the pain?” Theo asks quietly, his enviously long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looks down at you, almost nervously.

“Let me guess,” you say, sitting up so the distance between your faces is much shorter now. “A kiss to make it all better?”

“Healer’s orders,” he says, shrugging. His breathing quickens when you don’t move away and he swallows hard, eyes dropping lower to your mouth when you bite your lip to stop from cracking a smile. “I’m not saying you have to, but if you’re okay with going directly against her orders, then-”

You cut him off by pressing a lingering kiss to his lips and he inhales sharply, unmoving for a split second before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Theo’s hands move to your waist where he uses his remaining strength to hoist you up onto the sofa next him, one of your legs thrown over his waist as you half-straddle him.

You gasp into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip and the sound he makes in the back of his throat has your cheeks warming up and you kiss him harder. The fact it’s been so long since you’ve even been near him has you both kissing for what feels like hours and you only pull away when you need to breathe and you’re worried you’re leaning on Theo’s leg.

Pulling away, you scan Theo’s face and pause for a second to take in his beautiful features. His eyes are blown wide like he can’t believe he’s here with you, kissing you. A warm feeling starting in your stomach spreads all the way down to the tips of your fingers as he looks at you.

“Any other very important requests from the Healer?” you ask breathlessly, feeling a shiver run down your spine where Theo lightly skims his fingers. A dangerous smile overtakes his face and his lips, pink and swollen from kissing you, curve up, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“I think she mentioned something about a sponge bath?”

You whack his arm and he yelps, grabbing your wrist to stop you assaulting him further. “Hey, I’m an injured patient!”

“Your leg is injured, not your arm.”

“It is now,” he says, pouting as he rubs dramatically at his bicep where you lightly thumped him. He grumbles when you roll your eyes and press another kiss to his lips to get him to stop pouting. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Hm,” you hum, settling your face in his chest and sighing at the warmth of his arms, feeling him smile against your forehead where he kisses you.

© angelfic 2023.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt.3)

JL very soon finds out there's no reasoning or controlling this particular brand of crazy. Amity, as they like to call themselves - 'Because saying Interdimensional Law Enforcement every time is long and ILE is boring', Dani explains to them - do whatever they want and deem necessary, and no one can stop them.

They have bargained with the US government to let their whole town stay for a week in Illinois like one would ask to stay in a hotel room. They have all but swiped all the tech shops in the nearby area, and somehow, they had real, actual money to pay for it, despite not even originating from this dimension. They claimed it was due to the Ghost - or God, the opinions were mixed - of Time making it work. They visited a bunch of people. Heroes, that was.

One memorable visit was one they paid to Flashes. Vlad, the mayor of Amity Park and unofficial leader of ILE, and Tucker, a kid with an insane knowledge on all and every kind of tech, performed a whole lecture to Flash family as well as their friends and colleagues, on importance of safety while time-traveling, the best ways to fix the timelines and even on upgrades to their costumes.

The other important visit was the one they paid to Diana, although that one was not so climactic - Jazz just gave her a bunch of letters and a card with a summoning sigil on it. 'It's for Pandora, she enjoys having a cup of tea with Themyskirians,' the redhead claimed.

Now, it was Batman's turn, it seems.

Danny was standing - more like floating - in front of Red Hood. They were at the Watchtower since Batman did not like Amity coming to Gotham. In his opinion, that would be just calling for trouble, and both Valerie - head of ILE security - and the records of other Batmans said he was not wrong.

"Yeah, this one's fucked up," Danny says after almost three minutes of looking straight at Hood, and the man huffs:

"Thanks, I got that part," he throws back, but Danny just laughs softly.

"No, sorry, I didn't mean it as you personally. Just, like, compared to the other Red Hoods I've met. At least you're not fucked up beyond reason, I can still help you," the ghost boy says cheerfully and claps his hands, "Ready to get rid of the boiling rage in your veins?"

And, before either Hood or Batman can say anything, he reaches his hands inside Jason, and the man tenses up, holding his breath. Batman hovers close - he's read about the same kind of procedure being performed by Danny on other versions of Jason in the files, but reading about it and witnessing it is two entirely different things.

Danny's hands start turning green. The same thing he did with the portal before happens again: glowing, Lazarus green flows up his hands, like veins outside his skin. Only this time, it's not as bright as the portal was. It's murky and dull.

A few seconds later, Danny slowly takes his hands out of Red Hood's chest, and Bruce is really glad he was standing so close because Jason all but falls down to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Batman holds him by the shoulder, keeping him up, but Danny shakes his head:

"No, he better sit down. He's probably gonna feel lightheaded for a few minutes. Oh, and catch," he throws something to Batman, which he catches on reflex. It's a weird, jello-like substance of dark, dirty green color, almost like a stress ball.

"What is it?" He asks, and Danny grins:

"A souvenir. That's his Pit Rage," he nods to Red Hood.

"My what?!" Jason snaps his head to the ball in Batman's hands.

"The parts that made it actual Rage. Think, like, an infection, or a parasite, or just- You know what, it's what you get when some crazy asshole bathes you in ghost sewers," Danny shrugs, completely disregarding the face expressions Batman and Red Hood are giving him. "Speaking of which, do you wanna come with us when we get rid of those Lazarus Pits of yours?"

There's a bit of silence, before Red Hood breathes out:

"Hell, yes."

-------------------------

I'll be writing another part with Amity getting rid of Ra's and Lazarus Pits, yeah. In the meantime, Sam is looking for Constantine to give him a slap on the hand because all the John Constantine's pieces of soul were like a massive jigsaw puzzle to her, considering there's more than one John Constantine and all of them can't stop selling their fucking souls even for a minute and Sam is so done.

Tucker and Tim are nerding out in WE with no sleep or food, Damian gets to play with Cujo, Kon is discussing clones' trials and tribulations with Dani, Jazz is giving Supes a long overdue lecture on how to treat clones, Dan is looking for someone to fight - so far he's found Captain Marvel but he knows he is just a kid so instead of actual fighting they are playing Mario Cart - Val is having fun with Arrows because sharp shooters gotta stick together, and Vlad had abandoned all of his responsibilities and is hiding in Lex Luthor's penthouse, discussing cat breeds and how annoying heroes can be.

Paulina made her way into Gotham without anyone noticing and befriended Harley and Sirens, so Batman may or may not find a particular clown dead when he comes back to his city. Dash is actually not up for trouble, so he is on duty in Amity Park, doing tours for all the curious people who got interested in ghost town and decided to visit. GIW agents are in the process of locating all the Pits, Maddie is elbow deep in a scientific discussion with Martian Manhunter, Jack is upgrading the Amity Ship with all the new tech he's got, and Cyborg is keeping watch on him.

Did I forget anyone? I most likely did.

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Tag list: @mae-mae-mae @okami-love @fantasticstoryteller @ultra-stormsaga

[steddie-island]

Broken

Written for day one of @steddie-week | Prompt: Secret relationship Rating: T | WC: 1,757 | Tags: Hurt/ Comfort, secret relationship, (referenced) canon-typical violence, coming out, slightly altered timeline ao3 | divider credit

No one was answering the phone at the Harrington house. There were no cars were in the driveway. There was a light on in the pool house, but Eddie knew that Steve left everything by the pool lit up as much as he could, though Steve had never explained why, and Eddie hadn't asked.

Eddie was starting to panic. No, that wasn't right, because he'd passed starting to the second day Steve hadn't shown up at school.

By day three, the radio silence had him chain smoking as he drove around town, looking for any sign that Steve still existed.

The fucked up thing was that Eddie wasn't supposed to notice. He wasn't supposed to care whether recently dethroned King Steve was okay, or whether he'd fucked off out of town. They weren't supposed to know each other beyond picnic table transactions while Hagan tried to get Eddie to give him a discount.

No one knew about the detentions they shared. They didn't know about Steve pulling up beside him when his car wouldn't start, didn't know about the hour they'd spent together figuring out what the fuck was going on. Or about the Saturday Steve volunteered to help him actually fix it.

They didn't know about the lunches spent in the back of Eddie's van, about the nights they watched the stars together through the open back doors.

They didn't know how soft Steve's voice had been when he'd whispered Eddie's name before they'd shared their first, and then their second, kiss.

Now the beautiful boy he cared about had fucking disappeared, without a goddamn trace, and Eddie was losing his mind.

One more sweep. One more sweep, and then I'm going to the police. Not like they hadn't ran into each other plenty, only maybe this time Eddie wouldn't end up in handcuffs.

The sound he let out at seeing Steve's car in the driveway was between a laugh and a sob. He barely had time to park the car before he was tripping over his feet all the way to the door.

"Steve! Steve, let me in!" His palm pounded on the door, and he knew Steve would yell at him for not even trying to be discreet when he'd warned about nosy neighbors more than once. "Ste—" The door opened, and Eddie stopped in his tracks. 

Steve's face was swollen and turning several varying shades of yellow and green, purple and red. Eddie's stomach dropped.

He'd expected a lot of things, was ready to be angry for being ignored for three whole days. There was anger, but it wasn't directed at Steve.

"Fuck. Fuck, sweetheart." Eddie slipped inside, closed the door, took Steve's face carefully into his hands. "Who did this to you?"

Steve winced as Eddie's thumb brushed against a fading bruise on his jaw. "This is really not a good time," he murmured. He meant to pull away, but he couldn't. Not now that Eddie was here, holding him, tugging him closer and tucking Steve so carefully against his chest. "Are you okay?" Eddie whispered. "I've been so worried, tried calling but no one answered…" "I've been staying with the Hendersons," Steve murmured. "Dustin's mom is a nurse, she was taking care of me. I haven't been home long." He turned his head to kiss Eddie's palm. "You should go, I'm okay now. I'm—" "I'm not leaving you." Eddie tipped Steve's head up and hissed softly at the discoloration on Steve's eye, where the white wasn't so white anymore. "Who did this, Stevie?" "Eddie, stop. Doesn't matter, it's been handled. It's fine. I'm fine. I don't have a concussion anymore. Claudia wouldn't let me leave until she was sure of that. I just need to sleep some more." Steve folded his fingers around Eddie's. "Go home. I'll call you in a couple of days." "No." Eddie pulled Steve in with an arm around his waist. "You're hurt, I'm not leaving you." He oh so carefully pressed their foreheads together before kissing the good corner of Steve's mouth. "I'm not going anywhere." "Dingus, you said it would be a second, but it's been— what the fuck—" Eddie looked up, his eyes wide. A girl Eddie had seen around school stood in the entryway to the living room with her arms over her chest. Her face was red, her mouth an open o of surprise.

Oh.

Oh.

Eddie's heart sank. This thing couldn't have lasted, he should have known that. Steve had someone else here, someone else taking care of him, why would Steve have called when he wasn't needed? When he wasn't wanted?

Before Eddie could drop his hands from Steve's face, though, Steve was gripping his wrists. "Eddie, wait, it's not like that. Robin's—" "Oh my god!" The girl— Robin— had both hands in her hair. "Steven, if you were not coming off of the assbeating of a lifetime I would give you another one. You made fun of my crush, but you didn't tell me you're screwing around with Eddie fucking Munson?"

The pink that flooded into Steve's face added to the rainbow painting the rest of his skin already. "God, you're as loud as Henderson." He shook his head, hissed when that made the world spin, then caught Eddie's fingers instead of his wrist. "Guess the cat's outta the bag." "Don't you mean you're out of the closet?" Eddie joked. He was staring at Robin, who didn't look pissed, or disgusted, or jealous.

Okay, maybe she was pissed, but not because he'd been kissing Steve.

"Is this why you kept asking for the phone?" Robin demanded. Even with sounding annoyed there was still a softness in the way Robin spoke to Steve as she adjusted the couch pillows for him. Eddie guided Steve directly to the spot Robin had made for him before sitting pressed tight against his side. There was a bag of frozen vegetables on the coffee table that Robin picked up and pressed into Steve's hand, meaning for him to cover his face again.

"I couldn't out Eddie to you," Steve pointed out. "But… yeah." He looked at Eddie. "I'm really sorry, but… I couldn't remember your phone number?"

"Concussions do that." Robin folded herself on Steve's other side and pressed the bag of vegetables into his hand, clearly ordering him to put them back on his face. "And this isn't his first one. I'm Robin, by the way. Buckley. I'm in band."

"Munson. I'm in a band." Eddie scratched lightly through Steve's hair, as if searching for any other places he was hurt that all that hair was hiding. "What the fuck happened?"

"Nothing," Steve said at the same time as Robin said, "Billy."

"Billy." Eddie looked at Steve and felt his stomach twist. "Fucking Hargrove did this to you?"

"Eddie, it doesn't matter," Steve said. He could feel an Eddie rant coming on— or worse, he knew Eddie, knew he didn't like fighting but he would fight for the people he loved. And he couldn't let Eddie get hurt on his behalf. "It's been taken care of."

"Taken care of. By the sheriff?" Eddie demanded. He looked at Robin, clearly expecting for her to answer as the person who didn't have the concussion.

"Max almost took out the Hargrove family line with Steve's bat," Robin said. At Eddie's confusion she made a swinging motion that landed between her own knees.

"Max is his little sister," Steve explained. "She stole my car, too."

"Hey, she did a better job than I would have," Robin pointed out.

Eddie shook his head— none of this made a damn bit of sense. "Why was Max driving your car?"

"Because I was in the backseat with Steve, trying to make sure he didn't die," Robin explained. She winced and reached out to take Steve's hand. "Billy broke a plate over his head."

"Jesus Christ." Eddie pulled Steve closer, kissed his temple gently. "How the fuck are you alive right now?"

"Spite?" Steve joked weakly.

"It was bad," Robin murmured. "Like… really bad. I didn't think Steve was going to wake up, and when he did wake up he kept getting sick…" She turned slightly green at the memory. "Claudia— Mrs. Henderson— she barely let him leave the bed for two days. He refused to get a CAT scan, but he listened to that much, at least. Stubborn asshole."

"Wouldn't have helped." Steve rested his head against Eddie's shoulder and closed his eyes. "We knew what happened, and we could guess how bad it was."

"Stubborn asshole," Robin said, waving at Steve with one hand while looking at Eddie as if to ask what to do with him.

"Claudia says you're okay?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Steve looked up at him with his one good eye. "I just… have to be really careful. No more concussions or I might not be so fine next time."

Once again Robin held on to his hand tightly, like they were anchoring each other together, keeping the Billy Hargroves of the world away by pure force of will.

"How long has this been going on?" Robin asked suddenly. "The two of you I mean."

"Few months," Eddie said, like he didn't have the date circled on his calendar, like he wasn't ready to get it tattooed over his heart.

Robin lightly punched Steve's thigh. "You could've told me," she said. "You can tell the rest of your kids, too, you know. They love you, too."

Steve smiled softly. "Maybe I wasn't ready before," he said. "But after seeing Red go after Billy… there's nothing those little shits can't handle."

"I need to know what happened," Eddie said. "There's still so much that isn't adding up."

Steve winced as he sat back up. "It is a… really, really long story. And it's not a pretty one. I'll tell you, but… maybe later? For now, can we just put on a movie and… and you two hold me?"

"Whatever you need," Robin said without any hesitation. She jumped up to grab the remote and to push the table closer to the couch.

"You'll tell me later?" Eddie asked.

"Promise." Steve kissed Eddie's cheek gently, then snuggled to him so Robin could take her place, too.

Anyone who looked at Steve could figure out this was a sad story, an angry story. It was a fucking horror story.

As the opening credits of Grease started playing, Eddie promised himself that he was going to make damn sure Steve got a happy ending out of it.

[anundyingfidelity]

FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader

Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.

Word count: 3.9k.

Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.

Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

It's harder to stay...

Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.

The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.

Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.

"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.

Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"

The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.

"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.

"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.

"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.

During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.

"So it's personal..."

"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.

"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."

"I won't."

2029, Sacred Timeline

When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.

But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.

You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.

At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.

Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.

He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.

So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.

Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.

The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.

"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.

You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.

"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.

All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."

"Loki, I saw you die..."

Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.

"I know you did, my love."

You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.

And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.

"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.

You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"

Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.

"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."

"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."

"What?" you mumbled.

Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?

"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.

Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"

He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Sacred Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."

You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.

"Your death was supposed to be then?"

"Yes, it was."

"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.

Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.

Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.

"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"

"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.

You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."

Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"

"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."

"Or you could do both."

"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."

"It's not your fault."

"I know, Loki."

"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."

You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."

Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.

You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.

"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."

He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."

"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."

"No,I can't-"

"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."

Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.

"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."

And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."

Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.

When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.

"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.

Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."

His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.

You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."

"Thank you, love."

Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.

"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.

"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.

So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.

Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.

"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.

"I love you too."

Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.

The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.

So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.

He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.

Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.

At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.

"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."

"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.

"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.

"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.

"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."

And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.

You were right. Mobius was a good friend.

[merthosus]

Hi! Do you mind doing like an angsty fluff with Diego where you finally meet him again in the 60s at Elliot’s after he’s been stuck at the mental institution, but somethings off, he’s got someone else glued to his hip.

Meeting again

Summary: You were the last sibling, landing onto your feet, infront of a usual looking ally. The first thing, which came to your mind was finding the others, especially Diego. But little did you know, after finding him you wish you never did.

Thank you for your lovely request, even tho it broke my heart! Also, here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

“She’s… we’ve been through a lot together”

After getting brutally teleported into a different timeline, falling out of two meters onto hard concrete and getting cat-called by multiple old man on the streets, your day already was ruined. Thinking that it couldn't get any worse was understandable but at the same time so wrong. It got worse, it got incredibly worse.

You were on a hunt. `your prey?', you may ask. A six foot tall, handsome (you would never tell him that, his ego is big enough), and amazingly accurate knife throwing man. It was difficult to overlook him. You were kind of disappointed, that he didn't make you a trail out of knifes like in Hensel and Gretel. Something like that would have made it easier to find him. But as you knew him, everywhere he stepped a foot, he left a mark. Involuntary most times.

34 days later...

You’ve been searching for Diego for what feels like forever, a gnawing worry in your gut that only grew with each passing day. When you finally heard that he’d been taken to a mental institution after landing in the 60s, your heart dropped. The relief of knowing he was alive was quickly overshadowed by the fear of what he’d been through.

The day you finally walk into Elliot’s place, you spot him immediately. Your heart leaps at the sight of him—alive, whole, and so achingly familiar. But something’s off. He’s not alone. There’s a woman glued to his side, her hand resting on his arm as if it belongs there. She’s talking to him, and he’s smiling down at her, a softness in his eyes that you’ve only ever seen directed at you.

You freeze in the doorway, the world tilting on its axis. The Diego you know would have come running to you, would have swept you into his arms without a second thought. But this Diego just glances up, his eyes widening in surprise, then flicking back to the woman beside him. It’s like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless and disoriented.“Diego?” Your voice is small, uncertain, as if you’re not sure if this is really happening. His gaze finally locks onto yours, and for a moment, you see the Diego you know—the one who fought for you, who would do anything to keep you safe. But then he steps back, putting a small distance between the two of you, as if he’s unsure of how to bridge the gap that’s formed between you.

“Y/N,” he says, your name coming out in a breath, like he’s been holding it in this whole time. But his tone is guarded, almost hesitant, and it breaks your heart a little more. The woman at his side looks between the two of you, confusion and maybe a hint of understanding dawning on her face. You force yourself to smile, but it feels brittle. “It’s good to see you,” you say, even though every part of you is screaming that this isn’t right. That something has changed, something you don’t know if you can fix.

Diego glances at the woman beside him, then back at you. “This is Lila,” he introduces, and there’s something in the way he says her name that makes your stomach churn. “She’s… she helped me get out of the hospital.” “Helped?” The word comes out sharper than you intended, and you see Diego flinch. Lila doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn’t care. She smiles at you, and it’s almost too easy, too friendly. “Yeah, helped,” Diego replies, his voice softer now, like he’s trying to ease you into something you’re not ready to hear. “She’s… we’ve been through a lot together.”

The unspoken words hang in the air between you, and you can feel your heart cracking just a little more with each passing second. “I’m glad you’re okay,” you manage to say, even though your voice trembles. Diego’s eyes soften, and for a brief moment, it’s just the two of you again, like it used to be. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, and you know he means it, but there’s still that barrier between you, the one you’re not sure how to cross.

Lila touches his arm, and the moment shatters. “We should go,” she says, looking up at Diego, and he nods, though he looks back at you as if he wants to say something more. “Yeah,” he agrees, and the word feels like a goodbye. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

You nod, unable to trust your voice. You watch as they walk away, side by side, and it feels like your heart is being wrenched out of your chest. But just before they disappear, Diego glances back at you one last time, and in his eyes, you see it—the regret, the confusion, the love he’s trying so hard to push down. And you know, deep down, that this isn’t the end. But it doesn’t stop it from hurting like hell.

Alright I will go cry now but still thanks for the request :)

[brucewaynehater101]

Time traveling Tim AU, but he was never Robin:

In the first timeline, Jason never dies. For the plot's sake, let's just say Sheila was found out and arrested. Jason never runs away, but he does end up crashing at Dick's place for a while.

Jason eventually takes on a new mantle (not Red Hood).

A few weeks after this, Bruce sees a purple vigilante fluttering about. She thus becomes the third Robin.

That relationship isn't the best, so Steph eventually sheds the Robin mantle for a batgirl one (not sure how Cass fits in quite yet).

This is in time for Damian to pop up and become Robin.

All of that is background information that Tim keeps track of in the OG timeline. He never becomes part of the batfam.

When his mom dies and his dad is thrown into a coma, Tim does the fake uncle stuff. Tim's dad wakes up. They don't have a big blowup about Robin, but they also don't really know each other. They try, but it's intensely exhausting trying to navigate their grief, stress, lies, and lack of relationship with each other.

Tim goes out one night to hang with one of his friends.

He doesn't get his dad's call.

He comes home to his father murdered.

Batman puts Captain Boomerang away and doesn't look into Tim's established fake uncle. Since the uncle has already looked after Tim once, Bruce has his hands full with the other kids, and Tim is just a civilian, Bruce leaves him alone.

And Tim? He's fucking pissed. He was finally starting to get a relationship with his dad, and this guy took that away from him. Jail doesn't feel like enough.

Tim can't take him on like this, though. If Batman won't get him the justice Tim craves, the teen will just do it himself.

So Tim's uncle declares the teen is going abroad to get away from his grief as well as learn from an international boarding school. Tim manages Drake Industries remotely as he goes to Paris to train.

He gets much of the same training he did in his early Robin years, and that whole arc plays out. Tim isn't Robin, though. He kills.

He regrets it, he despises it, but he tries to convince himself it's necessary. If he's going to get revenge for his dad, he'll kill later anyways.

He, unfortunately, also catches the eye of Ra's. He accepts the man's offer to train and tries to becomes okay with killing.

Eventually, Tim leaves. He promises to return to Ra's at a later date after fulfilling his revenge.

When it comes down to it, when Boomerang is about to die from his own choices, Tim backs out. He becomes horrified with what he's allowed himself to become. His hands are stained red, and Tim doesn't believe he'll ever wash it off.

Batman finds out about Tim and tries to tell him he did good by letting Boomerang go (because their relationship is obviously different here. Bruce sees a kid used to killing refraining and not his son about to kill). Tim, so absorbed in his own guilt, flees.

He becomes obsessed with fixing his mistakes (which Tim... buddy... Maybe the issue is you getting so absorbed in your goals and losing sight of what matters/your morals). He accidentally slings his consciousness back to when he was nine.

He's nine, has the memories of an adult (he was about 19 by the time he got shot back), and thinks he needs to pay for his sins. Thus, he becomes an independent vigilante/informant. He drops information off with Batman or other heroes.

Most estimate his age to be between 25-30, and he's known for finding information, clues, and people when others can't. He is also known for vehemently being against murder (though, due to his time with LoA, he sometimes suggests cruel methods).

When Jason first goes missing, Tim instantly notifies Bruce.

Jason still dies.

Tim blames himself. By going back to the past, he's obviously condemned Jason to die. It's Tim's fault (butterfly effect sucks ass. Not Tim's fault, but guilt also sucks).

From Tim's time in LoA, he monitors them. He will thwart certain plans if he can get away with it without them noticing. He's also in their system.

This is how he learns about Jason.

His vigilante persona, known for finding even the impossible, brings evidence of Jason's existence to a grieving Bruce as well as proof of Damian.

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

Wrong Tardis (Ninth Doctor x M!Reader/ Tenth Doctor x M!Reader)

I'm not a huge fan of Nine but I'm slowly going back and watching his episodes and he's kinda growing on me.

Not sure if he's ooc here (though I'm like 90% sure Rose is) but whatever. I'm super excited for tomorrow's special and really wanted to write more for this series.

If you have any requests for this series send me an ask! (just keep in mind I have my own plans for big episodes like Silence in the Library or End Of Time.

Wordcount: Just over 1k

Series masterpost

The Tardis was old, like really old, like when the Doctor stole it it was already in a museum old. So occasionally it glitched, nothing too big. That is until it glitched and teleported you you to Cardiff 2005.

That was a whole earth year before you even met the Doctor. On the plus side the glimpse of his face you saw before you were teleported told you he would find you and come to pick you up, it was only a matter of time so you walked around.

You had yet to be in Cardiff in 2005, you'd been in to Cardiff circa 1910 but not 2005 so you look around, you saw the sights, you people watched for a bit and then you saw a familiar blue box.

"About time" You told yourself as you walked in.

"Did you fix the timezone processor?" You asked, happy to be back. By your calculation is had been about 3 hours.

"Who're you?" Asked a blonde woman who'd put herself between you and the Tardis console. You blinked.

You may have jumped to conclusions.

Looking around the inhabitants of this Tardis were very much not the inhabitants of yours. You only recognized one face. Captain Jack Harkness (Though he wasn't traveling with you when you'd been teleported away).

"You're Rose Tyler" You said to the woman who stood in front of you and she nodded.

"Yeah, and who are you?" She asked again. By now Jack and the Doctor, or the man you assumed was the Doctor were looking at you wearily.

You looked to the Doctor, his hair was darker and buzzed close to his head, his forehead creased in ways your Doctor's didn't and his ears were definitely larger than you remembered them being. Looking into his eyes calmed you though, because those were definitely the eyes of the man you loved. Though perhaps a few years younger.

This was the Doctor before you'd met him. before he knew you existed, maybe even before he destroyed Gallifrey.

"Well? Aren't you gonna answer her?" Asked Jack all three were looking at you expectantly.

"I'm an anthropologist" You finally said.

"An anthropologist?" Rose asked and you nodded.

Both Jack and Rose looked at you intently, not really buying it.

"Is that your name?" Rose asked wearily.

"No" You answered honestly, "But I can't tell you my name. I'm sorry." You told her and once again looked at the Doctor. He hadn't said anything yet.

"What do you mean you can't tell us your name? Why?" Rose asked.

"Because he's from the future Rose" The Doctor finally said, climbing down from the ladder he was perched on when you burst in.

"Aren't you?" He asked and you nodded.

"You're from my future" He said and you smiled almost sadly.

"Inquisitive as ever Doctor" You told him.

"I should go" You said, slowly turning around.

"Wait, if you're really from the future how come you were so shocked to see us? Don't you know us? Like, the future us?" Rose asked.

"He can't tell you anything Rose, it could put the whole timeline at risk" The Doctor said.

"He's right, I really shouldn't even be here. I thought this was my Doctor's Tardis coming to finally pick me up."

"Finally? How long have you been here?" Jack asked.

"About three hours" You told him.

"Does that mean there's another version of the Doctor wanderin' around Cardiff right now?" Rose asked and you chuckled a bit.

"No, we had a bit of glitch—" "With the timezone processor?" The Doctor asked.

"I can't tell you that" You said but he smiled at you with the cheeky little smile that only this face must have because you'd never seen it before and you sighed, "Yes with the timezone processor".

"What's a timezone processor?" Rose asked.

"It's what keeps all occupants of the Tardis in the same time bubble in flight" Both you and the Doctor said together, the two of you looked at each other.

"It's going to be your fault you know. You don't check the timezone processor enough and at some point it's going to act up. I want you to remember me saying this when I see you again. It's your fault" You told him but your voice held no malice, quite the opposite, it was loving teasing and both Rose and Jack could tell.

"I'm gonna go meet Mickey at the train station" Rose said and she grabbed Jack with her as she left. Leaving you and the Doctor alone but not before looking at the Doctor one last time, smiling and giving him a big old wink.

With just the two of you left the Tardis was quiet except for the soft whirring of the engine as it fueled up.

"How do you know what a timezone processor is?" The Doctor asked.

"I can't tell you" You said.

"When are you from?" He asks.

"I can't tell you that either" You repeat.

"Then can you tell me why you're looking at me like that?" He asks.

You step closer to him and gently cradle his face in your hands.

"I've never this face before" You simply say.

"What are you to me?" He asks.

"One day you'll find out. One day you're going to look at this face and smile and you're going to call me brilliant and when you do you're going to remember this and who knows, maybe I'll see this face again" You told him and kissed his cheek.

The wheezing sound of the Tardis landing could be heard faintly from beyond the wooden doors and you smiled widely.

"See you soon" You said and turned around, walking out to hopefully find your Doctor waiting for you.

Outside the Tardis stood another blue police box with the door open and the Doctor stood outside.

"There you are! We've been looking all over for you!" He said. His face was covered in oil and grease.

"Did you fix the timezone processor?" you asked.

"Eh, eventually" The Doctor said.

"And was it sparking because of a loose wire from when we crashed on Auros?" You asked, admittedly somewhat condescendingly.

"Yes" The Doctor mumbled and you rolled your eyes.

"I told you to check it" You said as you walked inside. The Doctor closed the door behind you.

"Y/N" He said, calling your name and you turned your attention from the Tardis console to him.

"Yes love?" You asked.

"Have I told you that you're brilliant?" He asked and you smiled.

"Not recently, no" You said.

[theshadowrealmitself]

I’m on some weird side of TikTok that hates Gwen for some reason and I’m terrified of looking on tumblr and seeing if that’s just the majority opinion, but anyways my thoughts on it:

So most of the videos I’ve seen on hating Gwen are about her “not being there for Miles” and because “she didn’t tell him”, and I don’t think those people watched the movie because

1.) Gwen joined an organization. An organization with rules. An organization with rules with tracking technology. There’s no way that they would’ve been okay with her just visiting Miles. Yeah she visited other Spideys, but those Spideys were a part of the organization.

If they had caught her visiting Miles for no reason, which they would have most likely noticed immediately, if not because of the tracking technology, then because of Jessica checking in on her often as her mentor that vouched for her, she could have been kicked out of the organization. Which for Gwen meant going back to her universe where she’d either be homeless and on run from the law, or just in jail.

There was no way she could have just visited beforehand, and they most likely had her on strict rules on not contacting him too (because this is an organization that tries to prevent the multiverse from breaking down, there’s no way they didn’t have strict rules), but the second Gwen was able to go to his universe, the very first thing she does, is stop by his house.

In fact, her mission is a second priority to her, she just leaves a tracker where the Spot is going to be, and then focuses on spending time with Miles.

2.) She tells him, then what? Either he accepts it, and just,, waits for his dad to die, knowing it’s not an event that he’s allowed to change (to their knowledge), or he fights against it, which would be the natural instinct of a 15 year old hearing that a loved one they’re close to is about to be killed, which would then put his entire universe at risk.

You heard them, they can fix Pavitr’s timeline “if they’re lucky,” most likely if Miles saved his dad and his universe started collapsing, they might not be able to save it, then he doesn’t just lose his dad, he loses everyone (if they let him join the society, would he be able to if his universe goes or does he go with it?)

Yeah some of the Spideys have some suspicions on whether or not interfering with the canon actually does cause a universe to collapse, but the only for sure facts they have is that Miguel fucked with a universe’s canon and that universe fell apart, it’s too risky to test it out on a hunch, and y’all wanted her to still risk it? knowing that there’s a 50/50 chance Miles still tries to save his dad and accidentally takes down his whole universe???

Now we as the audience have different information, and we’re pretty sure Miguel is wrong about the canon events, but you gotta think about what the characters know in universe, and what Gwen knows is that a Spidey wouldn’t want to just sit back and let a loved one die, and that screwing with canon might cost someone waaaay more than just one loved one

So Gwen not telling Miles anything and not visiting him wasn’t actually her flaws in the movie, yeah we felt betrayed that she did that, because it’s from Miles’ pov and Miles felt betrayed, but just because we wished she had done something different, doesn’t mean that her actions were wrong

Tragically, knowing what she knew, her mistake in the movie wasn’t “not being there more for Miles,” it was actually being there for him and visiting him, instead of avoiding him and focusing on her mission to capture the Spot, because if she had done that, then she could’ve stopped him before he started screwing with the multiverse

[writing-intheundercroft]

Wreck My Plans - S. Sallow

AO3 Link

Word Count: 8,734

Rating: E (Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, Pregnancy, NSFW, MDNI)

Summary: You try to share some life-changing news with Sebastian, but it seems he has other plans. Specifically, recruiting you to join one of his missions.

A/N: Auror Seb is back! I've been writing this one in the background for a while. Who was going to warn me that writing action sequences was hard??? Next one for auror Seb is a prologue to the series :)

“You’re sure?” You ask, swallowing thickly as you process the information your fellow healer has just told you.

“Very.” She smiles broadly. “By the looks of it, ten weeks or so.  You never noticed any of the symptoms until now?”

Your hand flies down to pet your stomach, and the tiny bump that now seems obvious.  How could you have not known?  

“I figured I was just hungrier,” you admit. “Tired from the transition to the day shift, adjusting back to the time zone after traveling.”

“Yes, well no more international travel for you.” the healer advises. “Not until the baby is born.  I daresay, you might not be traveling for quite some time, especially with a young babe in hand. How’s that house in Marunweem coming along?”

You’ve been bragging about your fixer upper for months now; Sebastian has really made a dent in the work, adding another bedroom and fixing up a porch on the backside of the house.  During the week, Sebastian is poised and collected, proving time and time again to his superiors just why he deserved the promotion to senior auror.  On the weekends, he has his sleeves rolled up, shirt unbuttoned as he hammers away at the wooden planks.

More often than not, you’re ripping his shirt off for him, or situated below him on your knees.  He works so incredibly hard for the two of you and the life he wants to give you; it's hard to keep your hands to yourself.

You start piecing together the timeline, what you’d been doing all this time; when you remember where you were at, you blush at the thought.  Ten weeks ago, you and Sebastian were in Sicily, enjoying your first real holiday as a couple.  He spared no expense, renting a palazzo from an Italian wizard he’d met through a contact in the department of international magic affairs.  You’d spent three glorious weeks by the sea, eating fresh seafood and exploring every inch of Sebastian’s body at night.  

“Sebastian!” You swatted at him.  

He grinned at you, his fingers plunged inside of you.  It was positively deranged the way he began fucking you with his hand, the seed he’d just spilt inside of you pushed further in.

“What?” he asked nonchalantly. “You did agree to have my baby a few months ago, if I recall correctly…”

Sebastian’s swollen lips descended upon yours, hungrily kissing you.  To your surprise, his thick length started to swell again, clearly aroused by your whimpering and the wet sound of his spend being manipulated, pushed even closer to its goal.

“You’re incorrigible,” You laugh against his lips as he situated himself between your legs again. The room was dimly lit, only deeply burnt candles illuminating the room you’d called home for the past few days.

“What can I say?” Sebastian whispered, teeth grazing your chin. “I’m insatiable for my fiancee.”

You took in a sharp breath when you felt the blunt head of his cock pressed against your heat again. “That’s the third time tonight,” you gasped as he slid into you with ease.  Your body knew who it belonged to–Sebastian was no intrusion. Your head tilted back against the pillows, moaning as Sebastian laved his tongue up and down your sweaty throat. 

“I don’t care,” Sebastian grunted, slowly rolling his hips against you. “Three–fucking–weeks–ungh, all I want to do is have you in bed, naked, for three whole weeks uninterrupted.”

You clutch onto him, teeth sinking into his shoulder as you flutter around him again. 

“Ma’am, are you listening?”

You blink out of your daydream, looking back up at your healer. 

“What did you ask?”

“I asked if you’ve been doing any strenuous activity lately.” The healer asks.

You turn bright red, brushing the back of your neck with your hand. You’ve been bedding Sebastian nearly every night, at least when the two of you aren’t exhausted from work or feeling ill.  Neither of you ever minded to track your courses, considering they’d been tricky after years of an off-kilter schedule at St. Mungo's. 

“I’ll take it easy,” you assure the healer, who doesn’t seem all that convinced. She lets you off with a blood renewing potion and some vitamins, and you leave St. Mungo's in a daze.

Your first instinct is to run straight to the ministry, barreling into Sebastian’s office with the news.  But on second thought, it’s probably news best saved for home–you’d rather not have the most important news of your life shared in front of his colleagues. Instead, you make your way to Diagon Alley to pick up supplies for dinner, stopping by the owl post office to send a note to Poppy.  You haven’t heard from her in a little while, but you know she’ll be over the moon when she reads the news.

All is well in your life, you think.  You’ll have to move the wedding up–Ominis and Anne have been insistent you wait until the next spring, once the frost has thawed and you can have a May wedding.  You’d really rather not host your newborn at your wedding, so late autumn will have to do.  Perhaps you can sneak away to Feldcroft for the weekend with a few friends in tow, take an unbreakable vow in the center of the hamlet���

“I’m home,” You hear a voice call out.

Dropping the ladle, you wipe your hands on your skirts as you rush to greet Sebastian at the fireplace.  Skidding into the living room, your smile falters when you see the gruff expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Sebastian shakes his head, hanging his coat on the rack next to the fireplace. “Long day,” he mumbles, sliding past you to go straight into the bedroom.  You feel a bit deflated–Sebastian is rarely one to avoid your touch, but tonight is different.  You hear the bathroom door slam, the faucets turning as he fills the bath.  From what you can remember, Sebastian is only ever this grizzly after a bad day at work.  Either bad news on a case, a perpetrator that’s gotten away, or the most dire, losing a colleague. 

You tiptoe up to the bathroom, rapping your knuckles against the wooden door. 

“Come in,” Sebastian sighs.

You slip past the door, kneeling next to the clawfoot tub.  Sebastian is submerged in steaming water, bubbles dissipating in the water.  Work has been particularly stressful–he’s gone a few days without shaving, dark stubble coating his chin.

“What’s wrong?” you ask gently.

Sebastian lolls his head back against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling. “We’ve got a real pain of a case on our hands.” he mutters, tilting his head to look at you.  It’s an unspoken question, one that doesn’t need asking–he should know by now that nothing he ever shares about his cases ever leaves the four walls of your home.

“International dragon breeding ring.” He states, the water splashing as he pulls up his knees under the water. “Seems like they were trying to raise some Hebridean Blacks in the highlands.  Clearly didn’t know how to handle their dragons, so the crew was burnt to a crisp by the time we got there.”

“That’s horrible,” you shake your head.

Sebastian wrinkles his nose. “I never, ever want to see bodies like that ever again.” he gags. “The worst part is now that they’re all toast, we’ve lost our only lead to the larger gang.”

“I’m sorry.” you pout, stroking his hair.

Sebastian sighs. “It’s okay.  I’m just quite tired for the day; I had a sausage roll on my way home from the office, I think I’ll just tuck in to bed early tonight.”

He notices you visibly shrink, knitting his thick eyebrows together. “What’s wrong, pet?”

“I made dinner.” you say sheepishly. “Your favorite.”

Sebastian gives you a wry look. “I’m sorry, love.  Rain check?  I really do just want to get in bed.”

Sebastian can’t see the way your hand hovers over your abdomen under the lip of the tub.  And while you’re desperate to share the news, you’d rather do so when he’s in a better mood. The last thing you want is the happy memory of your pregnancy announcement being marred by troubles at work.

“It’s fine, really.” you assure him. “I’ll pack it all up so you can take it to lunch tomorrow, bring a bit for the boys.”

Sebastian snorts, beads of water dripping from his arms as he lifts them out of the water. “I’m sure Everett and Andrew will love that.  Those two rarely ever see a home cooked meal.”  

“I’m not sure what those boys would do without me.” you say sarcastically. “Ominis was right–I have to stop feeding them so often; they’re coming back week by week like stray cats.”

“Oh please, you love babying the two of them.” Sebastian rolls his eyes. 

The word has your smile faltering, and Sebastian tilts his head, giving you a sympathetic look.

“It will happen, you know.” he puts a hand under your chin, tilting it up towards you. “I know it’s upsetting that it’s taken this long, but it’ll all work out in time.”

“Oh, that’s not–”

“Perhaps we should wait until after the wedding,” Sebastian suggests. “I mean, that’s surely the more proper thing to do. Plan it out, do it the right order.”

You turn bright red, swallowing thickly; Sebastian really has no clue. “We’ve never been proper, the two of us.”

Sebastian lets out a low chuckle, eyes darting down to your lips. “No, I don’t think we have.” The pad of his thumb traces over your lips, slipping between them.

“Tell you what,” Sebastian breathes. “I finish washing up, and I meet you in the bedroom for a cuddle.”

“Something tells me we’re not going to be cuddling.” You raise an eyebrow, eyes darting down to Sebastian’s free hand, which has slipped underneath the water and between his legs. 

“No, we’re not.” Sebastian says, voice low and needy.  Your eyes flit down to the surface of the water, rippling with every stroke of his hand. “Get in the bed, now.”

You smile, biting down on your lip as you do what he says. After all, it won’t be long before two becomes three, so you want to relish these nights for as long as you can.

You wake up when Sebastian presses his lips against yours.  He’s never been very good at kissing softly–almost always, your fiance kisses you with enough fervor to wake you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, nosing your cheek. “I wanted to kiss you before I left.  Got a message that I need to be in the office earlier than usual–all hands on deck.”

You open your eyes, blinking up at him.  He’s fully dressed in his suit, auror badge pinned to his coat pocket.  His work bag is at his feet, last night’s carefully wrapped leftovers next to it.  From the window behind him, you can see the sky is still black, a smattering of stars filling the sky.  It has to be four, maybe five o’clock in the morning.

“Send Everett and Andrew my love,” you yawn. “Tell them to enjoy the short rib.”

Sebastian snorts, mouth descending upon yours once more. “I’m starting to think you like them more than me,” he teases, nipping your lower lip with his teeth. “Have a good shift today.  I’ll see you at home tonight.”

You don’t follow Sebastian to the fireplace, instead electing to fall back into your bed for a few more hours of sleep before your shift at St. Mungo's. You’ll tell him tonight, you think, putting together the plan while you dress for the day.  Perhaps roast chicken and potatoes for dinner, and a cake with the good news on it.  You’re buzzing, eager to execute your plan once you’ve gotten home. So much so, you completely miss the owl sitting in the window, clucking at you while you hum over your cooking.

It’s only when the owl threatens to bite you that you pick up the note, deflating the minute you see the DMLE logo.  

Urgent case.  All hands on deck–we’ve been ordered to stay in the office until further notice; might be traveling internationally too.  I’ll send an owl when I know more. 

xx Sebastian

You shrug off your worries; this isn’t exactly unexpected. Given the high risk of Sebastian’s job, he’s often sequestered to the office or traveling for a case, sometimes days at a time. Perhaps the waiting will make your reveal all the more special.  You can picture Sebastian falling to the ground in front of the fireplace once you tell him after much time away from home.

After two days, you’re worried.  Come five, you’re irritated.  Ten days later, you’re thoroughly mad that this case has wrecked your plans.

It takes nearly all your willpower not to break down the doors of the auror office.  On the bright side, Sebastian knows well enough to reassure you of his good health via owl post. Per usual, he can’t say much, except that there had been a considerable development in their dragon breeding ring case.  He’s been bunking up with Everett and Andrew in the office (the two bachelors also sending thank you cards for the feast you’d cooked) and he’s quite miserable without your company.

Sebastian’s owl post gives you some peace over the miserable days, especially considering the onset of your morning sickness.  It seems that since your brain has accepted the concept of being pregnant, your body has decided to follow suit.  You’re lucky that there are plenty of other mothers working at St. Mungo’s beside you, each of them offering a sympathetic smile or a packet of crackers once you've emerged from the bathroom.

You’re just returning from a trip to the porcelain throne, wiping the corner of your mouth, only to hear your name once you pass the ward matron desk.

“Oi, ministry man is looking for you,” one of your fellow healers says, jerking their thumb back towards the ward matron’s desk. 

You whip your head around to see a sharply dressed man standing at the desk, seemingly annoying your ward matron.  He’s older and gray; there’s something familiar about his face.

It clicks–he’s Sebastian’s superior officer.

The blood drains from your face as you walk towards him, hands clenched in fists. “Can I help you?”

He says your name, bowing his head slightly. “Augustus Green, we’ve met before. You’re Sallow’s fiancee, aren’t you?”

“Is he alright?” you ask, panicking.  You instinctively press a hand to your stomach.

“Oh goodness, I should’ve started with that,” he admits sheepishly. “Sallow is fine, no cause for alarm.  I’m here to summon you for an appearance at the office.”

“Summon? Me?” you gape up at him. 

“All the information is here,” Green says impatiently, handing you a manilla folder. “And a letter for your matron to excuse you from your duties.”

It’s all a blur from there, the ward matron clicking her tongue disapprovingly when you hand over the letter.  With that task out of the way, Officer Green starts herding you to the closest floo flame.  It feels as if he’s got you by the back of your robe, pulling you into the green fire. You grip the manilla folder tighter, swallowing down the vomit in your throat.  Floo travel is safe while pregnant, but certainly not comfortable. 

When your eyes open, you’re standing in an unfamiliar office.  You know where you are though–the ministry, the DMLE office specifically.  The furnishings match Sebastian’s office, except this one is clearly larger.  There’s a woman organizing files in the corner, quickly standing to greet Officer Green on his return.

“Marlene, put a kettle on, why don’t you?” Green huffs, walking over to his chair. “And summon the task force team.  Meeting in my office.”

You cross your arms over your chest–it’s Marlene of all people, one of Sebastian’s former flings.  She gives you a phony smile, eyes flitting down to the diamond ring on your left hand.

Well, you suppose the crestfallen look on her face makes the trip to the ministry worthwhile. 

As Marlene passes through the doorway, a group of aurors makes their way inside.  A few unfamiliar faces, but then three of your favorites–Andrew Larson, Everett Clopton, and Sebastian.  Sebastian is giving you a proud grin, chest puffed out.  You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks, and his once sparse beard is now growing thick.  It takes all of your self control to not throw yourself into his arms, relieved to see that your fiance is still well after being away for so long.

The aurors line up against the wall, awaiting instructions.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we’ve asked you here,” Green states, folding his hands on his desk. “We’re assembling a task force team to work on a sensitive case. We normally wouldn’t operate on foreign soil, but considering the abductee is a British citizen–”

“Pardon, abductee?” You interrupt. 

“Yes, details will be in your briefing.” Officer Green states, pointing down to the folder in your hands. “Our officers have spent the last few months tracking the smaller units of an international dragon breeding ring.  They’ve gotten sloppy since we’ve started apprehending their top breeders, and have since retreated to their home base in Norway. A British citizen has been abducted by the ring leaders of the operation, likely due to her expansive knowledge on Norwegian Ridgebacks.  Miss Sweeting is a well known magizoologist–”

Your throat goes dry, and for the first time in days, your stomach is churning from anxiety, not from morning sickness.

“Miss Sweeting was abducted from her home–sign of forced entry, her wand and personal effects were found littered throughout the property.  Our auror department has uncovered evidence that leads us to believe the criminals are keeping her on hand with the dragons to provide guidance in their breeding efforts.”

Officer Green carries on. “The task force comprises several of our best aurors, some of which were classmates of Miss Sweeting and have a personal interest in her safety. You were recommended to join the task force by Officer Sallow,” Green continues. “Considering your relationship to Miss Sweeting, and experience with dragons in the past.”

You blink at the senior officer, mouth agape. “But I’m only a healer, sir.”

“A healer will be extraordinarily important for a mission like this,” Green points out. “With the imminent danger–”

“You saved half the department once,” Andrew Larson blurts. “Rather have you on our team if we’re facing dragons and dark wizards in one go.”

The room dissolves into nervous giggles as Green swats at Andrew.  Sebastian, however, is completely unphased, smiling at you as if he’s signed you up for a field trip, not a mission across international lines to save one of your best friends.  If Poppy wasn’t the one in danger, you probably would’ve wrung his neck by now.

“As I was saying before Mr. Larson so rudely interrupted,” Green rolled his eyes. “We need a healer on the task force. We will pay you for any days missed at your regular shift, and a bonus upon return.  That, and all accommodations in Norway–”

“I’m sorry, Norway?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yes, where we believe the perpetrators are keeping Miss Sweeting to assist in the breeding of their dragons.” Green interjects, tapping the briefing folder again. “We have a portkey scheduled to depart in an hour. Please review your folder beforehand.”

You hardly listen to the rest of the briefing.  The rational side of your brain is screaming at you to tell the truth–you’re pregnant, the healers just said to limit international travel, and you hardly think you should be jumping into battle with a dragon breeding ring in your condition.  Is portkey travel even safe during pregnancy?  

Your thoughts scream at you as Green dismisses the room; before your brain even registers movement, your feet are scuffling towards Sebastian’s office. He’s standing at his desk, two large duffle bags side by side. You shut the door with trembling hands.

“I took the liberty of purchasing some things you’ll need,” he says cheerfully, digging through the bag. You hold out your arms as he pushes a pair of trousers and a shirt into them. “Some wool stockings and your base layers, it’ll be cold, that’s for sure…” he trails off.

“Sebastian,” you swallow thickly. “Sebastian, I–”

“I’m sorry if this is coming across as a surprise.” Sebastian shucks off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt. “That, and for being gone for so long.  It was all hands on deck with the case; I’ve been bunking up in here with Larson and Clopton.  You have no idea how badly I want to be home.” he groans, slipping a new undershirt on.

Your brain is frazzled. You want to be angry at him, to be worried, but your heart is thumping in your chest.  It’s been too long since you’ve seen him, and you’ve been worried sick.  Your body’s first instinct is to wrap your arms around him and inhale his familiar scent.

Sebastian laughs when you do so, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I know, Pet. As soon as this is done and dusted and we’ve got Poppy home, things can go back to normal.” he murmurs against your hair.

You nuzzle your face deeper into his chest, inhaling his cedar cologne. “Are you sure this is safe?  I'm not in dueling shape.” you admit sheepishly.  In your youth, you would’ve charged into combat headfirst without warning–years of working in St. Mungo's has you untrained.

Sebastian laughs, his beard tickling your face. “Safe? You’re the best duelist I know–besides myself, of course. You’ll be fine.  Besides, we mostly need you for healing purposes.  That magic of yours works a trick on burns.  Remember–”

“In the Undercroft, when you accidentally blew up a barrel of mead.” you snort at the memory.  It hadn’t been funny then, watching Sebastian writhe on the floor from the burns.  You’d fallen at his side, instinctively using your ancient magic to siphon the pain. He was healed in a matter of seconds, and it set you on the trajectory to become a healer.

“Precisely.” Sebastian licks his lips. “That, and to be with Poppy. I’m sorry, I wish I could have told you sooner, but we weren’t allowed to say.” He pulls a wand from his desk–Poppy’s wand, white ash wood with a swirling handle–and presses it into your hands. “You should hold on to it, for safekeeping.  You can give it to her once we rescue her.”

You look up at his chocolate brown eyes, lids dotted with freckles.  You want to tell him–you need to tell him–

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian pouts. “You’ve always said you wanted to come to work with me.”

You open your mouth, trying to find the words, but you can’t.  You’ll be fine, you think.  What’s one more trip?  Besides, you’ll do anything to ensure Poppy is safe.

“I don’t like your beard.” you blurt.

Sebastian roars with laughter, rubbing his jawline. “I knew you’d hate it; Clopton and Larson were egging me on to grow it out.  I don't have a razor here; I promise I’ll shave it when I get home.  Now, come on, let’s get you dressed all warm and snug. We've got a portkey to catch.”

“I’m sorry–I thought I had your size memorized.” Sebastian mutters, helping you unlace your corset.

You wince, a low hiss coming out from your lips as you let the offending garment fall to the ground.  Assessing your torso in the blurred mirror, you can see lines from the whalebone pins left in your skin.  Your hand instinctively rubs over your stomach silently apologizing to the babe inside of you for being squished all afternoon.  

“The portkey couldn’t just drop us off here, at the inn?” You complain, slipping one of Sebastian’s clean shirts over your head.  

“We couldn’t draw attention to ourselves, you know that,” Sebastian tuts. “Besides, I thought you enjoyed hiking?”

“I enjoy hiking when it's planned.” you groan, falling back against the bed. “Almost thought I’d ask Andrew to cart me up the mountain.”

Sebastian starts unlacing your boots, letting the heavy shoes fall to the floor.  Your woolen stockings are peeled off next, laid out next to the fireplace to stay warm.  He carefully unlaces and works your trousers off your legs, draping them over a stool.  

“I am sorry.” Sebastian says, climbing into bed next to you.  Your muscles are sore, legs like jelly after the long trek.  Knowing this, he pulls your legs into his lap, working his thumbs into your calves to massage them. “I thought it might be fun.”

You snort. “Fun? Sebastian, we’re on a mission to find Poppy, who's been taken hostage by dragon dealers. That hardly sounds like fun.” Your head falls back against the pillows, which have definitely seen better days.

“I know, but they were looking for a healer to join the force, and I knew you were the right person.” Sebastian reminds you, nimble fingers moving down to massage your sore feet. “Besides, it’s kind of fun to work together, isn’t it?  Reminds me of the good old days.”

“Ah, yes, the good old days.” you parrot back to him. “Us, running like vigilantes around the highlands. Stealing bounty from old chests, blasting away at acromantulas.”

“What can I say?  We were spirited teenagers.” Sebastian chuckles.  His fingers slow, making deliberate circles in the arch of your foot. “I wanted us to have one more good adventure before we settled down, got married.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, raising an eyebrow at him. “We won’t have adventures after we’re married?  Thanks for the vote of confidence.” you jest.

“You know what I mean,” Sebastian shrugs. “After we’re married and we’ve got kids in the house, we’ll be boring old parents.” he wrinkles his nose. “Might as well bank up a few good stories for the children while we still can.”

Your smile falters. “Do you really think we’ll be that boring?”

“We’ll have to be, won’t we?” Sebastian sighs. “I’ll probably take some time off after the baby is born, of course.  And when I’m back to work, I’ll ask to be reassigned to low risk cases.  So, in the meantime, I’ll enjoy all the tough stuff while I still can.”

You should tell him.  You really do need to tell him.

You don’t.

He sounds so glum, trading in a life of adventure and danger for nappies and lullabies.  Perhaps his interest in fatherhood was just spurred by the renewal of your relationship. It makes sense that he’d start thinking more clearly now that it’s been nearly a year together.  Merlin, maybe he’s already bored of the little life you’ve created together–the house on a hill, far from the bustling city.  The logical side of your brain reminds you that Sebastian loves you, dotes on you, hand and foot (quite literally, the man is still massaging your feet).  Yet the irrational side of your brain, likely flooded with pent-up hormonal energy, reminds you that he hasn’t been home in days . 

“You still love me, right?”  Gods, the words sound pathetic coming out of your mouth.

“Of course I do.” Sebastian’s eyes widen. “How could you think otherwise?”

“It’s nothing.” you say quickly, waving him off. “Just a stupid intrusive thought.”

Sebastian clicks his tongue, pushing your legs from his lap.  You stay, perched on your elbows, watching him move in between your legs. With a mischievous smile, Sebastian picks up your foot, pressing a kiss to your ankle.

“Then it seems I’ll have to work extra hard to put those thoughts to bed,” Sebastian whispers lowly.  His tongue laves circles up your calf, eyes trained on you while his mouth moves up, up, up your thigh.

“You colleagues are in the other room.” You croak.

“We have magic, don’t we?” Sebastian teases. “ Silencio should do the trick, unless I’ve made you forget basic spellcasting.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, trying to hide the laugh bubbling in your throat.

It’s against your better judgment, but you reach over to the side table to grab your wand.  Flicking it at the door, you mutter the silencing charm under your breath.  The room suddenly feels like a bubble, no noise from the outside world permitted in, and vice versa.

“We can’t go crazy,” you whimper as Sebastian takes a deliberate lick, pressing a kiss to your center. A moan slips from your mouth, head crashing against the flat pillows. “We have to wake up– oh, yes, right there –ugh, Sebastian, we have to wake up early.”

Sebastian grins, teeth grazing your skin lightly as he presses a languid kiss to the crease of your thigh. “I won’t keep you awake too long.” he promises, before diving back between your legs.

Sebastian knows you–almost a little too well, you think.  Somehow he knows the sex you need is tender and soft, his hips rocking into yours while he whispers how much he missed you, how he longs to come home to your bed.  His hand ghosts over your abdomen, but you quickly pull it up to your lips, pressing soft kisses to his worn knuckles. When he comes, face buried in your neck, he can't stop telling you how much he loves you. It isn't long before Sebastian drifts to sleep, lightly snoring against your skin with his arms wrapped around you. His beard tickles your shoulders, but you’ve missed him too much to push him away.

You flick your wrist at the candles, quickly extinguishing the fire.  With only pale moonlight streaming in through threadbare curtains, you pull the blankets up to your neck, focusing on Sebastian’s steady breathing.

Steady. Unwavering (except the time that you broke up…well, he’s more than made up for that by now). Dependable, devoted. Sebastian is going to make the most amazing father. You shut your drooping eyelids, reassuring yourself that Sebastian will be excited when you finally get to share your news.

“I'm freezing.” you spit out, shivering from the cold air.

“We’ve been waiting for hours,” Everett complains, recasting an anti-fogging spell on his glasses. “Larson should’ve made contact by now.”

“We have to stick to the plan,” Sebastian bites back. “Larson was to make contact with the dealers, send a signal leading to his location.  If he didn’t by sundown, we’d abandon the post and go back to the inn.”

While Sebastian had kept you busy the night prior, Andrew had gone undercover.  Your sweet Ravenclaw friend is unassuming, and quite the actor it seems–he reported at breakfast to say the breeders had given him coordinates to a meeting point, where he’d be given the opportunity to purchase a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon egg. Poking at his poached egg, Andrew assured the group that he’d send a patronus signal for back up once he’d identified the location of the operation.

Waiting for Andrew’s signal is excruciating, the better half of the day spent sitting around a now nearly burnt out campfire. You were pacing back and forth in the snow, drumming your fingers against your throat.  While you’re sure Andrew can hold his own (he has for years now, Sebastian tells you–a surprisingly astute duellist, much improved from his days in Crossed Wands) you hate the idea of your cheerful blond friend being alone.

Sebastian stands up, brushing snow from his pants. “It’ll be dark soon,” he muses. “We should start heading down to the inn soon.”

Your eyes widen. “And leave Andrew?”

“Andrew is an auror, Pet.” Sebastian reminds you. “One of our best.  He’ll be just fine getting down the mountain on his own.”

“If he needed back up, he would’ve called by now.” Everett tries to assure you, wiping his fogged up glasses again. “Gosh, I hope we’re only here another day or so–I fear my chomping cabbages are dead by now, I’ve been away from home for too long.”

“We can’t possibly leave him,” you gasp, stomping your foot in the snow. “I won’t allow it.”

Sebastian opens his mouth to argue with you, but clamps it shut when the sky darkens.  

“Take cover!” he roars, grabbing you and tackling you to the snow.  You gasp, curling into him as he rolls you behind a collection of boulders. In seconds, Everett has joined you.  His mouth is hanging open, staring up at the massive dark spot soaring above you.

“Sweet mother of Merlin,” Everett gasps. “Is that–”

“A Norwegian Ridgeback,” Sebastian grunts, tucking you in tighter to his chest. “A young one, based on the size, but still dangerous.”

Peeking over Sebastian’s shoulder, you can see a young dragon soaring overhead.  You can see the cracked collar, chains hanging from its neck. The poor beast is clawing at the collar, a high pitched squeal coming from its mouth as it flaps its wings. When its jaw opens, you can see the flames curling up from the back of its throat.  Sebastian backs into you, an arm curling around your waist to keep you shielded from the heat. 

“Protego!” you hear a familiar voice scream. 

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Sebastian spits out.  He peeks around the boulder, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as his jaw falls open.  You stand to sneak a peek, equally shocked at the sight before you.

Andrew is running, bloodied with gashes in his clothes.  His blond hair is matted down and you’re not sure if it’s from blood or melted snow.  Wand extended, Andrew casts a shield charm to protect himself from the fire and waves of green curses.  His arm is looped through a short brunette’s, her wrists bound in goblin-forged silver cuffs. It’s Poppy, who is yelling at Andrew to avoid hurting the young dragon. Several breeders are chasing after them, firing curse after curse on Andrew’s heels. 

“A little help here!” Andrew roars, waving his arm the second he spots his colleagues.

The aurors break into action with little hesitation. Sebastian and Everett waste no time sprinting towards their partner. It feels like you’ve barely had a second to blink before the flashes of red and green start clashing around you.  Sebastian jumps to avoid a well-aimed shot, rolling to the ground before firing a countercurse at his attacker. His hair is covered in powdery snow, cheeks red from the cold as he fires off a defensive spell set.  You watch him, mouth agape, barely registering his voice calling out your name. 

“Get Poppy out of here!” Sebastian hollers. “Both of you, before the dragon circles back!”

Right, you think, shaking out of your stupor.  You run, feet slowed by the snow, towards your friend.  She grabs your hands as soon as you reach her, staring at you in a panic.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Poppy shrieks.

Over her shoulder, you can see one of the breeders teeing up a spell.  With ease, you raise a boulder from behind him to knock him down the hill.  In doing so, you’ve drawn attention to yourself, the other breeders realizing that you’re a bigger threat than anticipated.

“Here for you,” you assure her. “Come on, let’s go.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Poppy panics. “I got your letter, the morning they broke into my flat–”

“That’s the least important thing right now,” you screech, firing off a countercurse; the rebound is so strong, both of you are nearly knocked off your feet.

“But the baby!” Poppy shouts. “This isn’t safe!”

“Now is hardly the time to be scolding me,” you argue, panting as you channel your ancient magic to disintegrate one of your attackers. “The baby will be fine, I’m more worried about you!”

“What the bloody hell are you two talking about?”

Now you’ve really let the cat out of the bag, you think between spell combinations. You pause in place, braid whipping through the wind, to see Sebastian staring at you across the way.  His eyes are as wide as saucers, blinking rapidly as his mouth opens and shuts.

“Congratulations, guys!” Everett yells sarcastically, glasses now fully fogged from the fighting. “Think we can discuss this another time?”

“You’re pregnant?” Sebastian shrieks.

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” you pant, dodging a curse, “but you’ve been gone, I only just found out the day before you left–”

“We have to get you out of here!” Sebastian panics, running towards you from across the field. “You’re pregnant!  This is unsafe!”

“We don’t have time for this conversation!” You roar, casting confringo on the poachers drawing near.

“Careful with the heat, it’ll be bad for the baby!” Sebastian chides, but you roll your eyes.

“You got me into this mess, Sallow!  Both messes, I might add.” You say through gritted teeth.  It’s true–he’s the one who got you pregnant in the first place, and then volunteered you to join a covert mission. Honestly, you might find his rapid shift in attitude hilarious if you weren’t being rained down upon by flames and curses.

“We had sex, is that bad for the baby?” Sebastian asks. “For him? Or her?  Oh Merlin, what if it’s a girl–”

“I’m sorry,” Everett raises a brow, sidestepping a diffindo that had been thrown his way. “The two of you were shagging last night when we were supposed to be preparing for a mission?”

“You two are disgusting!” Andrew spits, casting stupefy on his assailant. 

“Can someone please figure out a way to get me out of these cuffs?” Poppy roars, shaking her still shackled wrists. “And does anyone have my wand by any chance?”

You curse under your breath, wiggling Poppy’s wand out of your too-tight breeches. She grasps her wand with both hands, wincing as you channel your ancient magic into snapping the metal.  Her wrists are rubbed raw from spending weeks in chains, but she shakes them out as she reacquaints herself with her wand.

The sky goes dark again; the dragon circles in the air, flapping wings causing the entire battle to cease while everyone braces in the snow.  

“You need to get out of here,” Sebastian hisses. “I’m begging you–”

“And leave you here, with this lot and the dragon? Absolutely not.” you snap. “The father of my child needs to see another day.”

“Hello!” Everett screams. “There’s still a fight going on here, if the two of you haven’t– ouch !”

Both of you turn your heads to see Everett laying in the snow, groaning.  One of the breeders is stomping towards him, twirling his wand in hand.  Nostrils flared, you push Sebastian aside and aim your wand.  With barely even a flick, the man is thrown back against the snow, a disconcerting crack ringing through the air.

Not your boys , you think.  You plan to see all of these aurors back to London, alive and without injury.

“Poppy,” you yell, firing basic casts at the approaching breeders. “Can you secure the dragon?”

“Working on it!” Poppy’s voice is muffled, her wand between her teeth.  You can see her, your little firecracker of a friend, trying to scale the rocks to get closer to the dragon.  As the country’s leading expert on dragons, you hope she’ll have the dragon under control before long. She’s babbling towards the beast, cooing reassuring words as it snorts steam.

“Bertie, calm down.” You hear Poppy cluck at the dragon, her hands held high. “It’ll be alright–”

Andrew, who has foregone his wand, punches one of the breeders squarely in the nose. Shaking his hand out, he turns back to Poppy. “Bertie? Bertie, who you were droning on about while I was trying to rescue you, is the damn dragon?” he yells. “The one who was trying to kill us just a bit earlier?”

“I was alone!” Poppy shrieks back. “You try being alone with just dragons for two weeks, you would start naming them too!  And he was not trying to kill us, he’s just afraid–”

“Shut up!” Sebastian hollers. “Can you two behave?”

Sebastian is shouting at both Andrew and Poppy, and doesn’t see the breeder approaching from his left.  His arm is raised, a knowing smirk on his phase as he brandishes his wand at your fiance. Sebastian is too preoccupied with scolding his subordinate to notice the flickering red tip of the breeder’s wand, teeing up what you can only imagine is the cruciatus curse.

You don’t have time to shriek.  Instead, you feel your anger bubbling up through your fingertips, the telltale signs of your ancient magic starting to spill from your hands.  You’re running, wand arm raised, about to attack when you feel the wind knocked out of your lungs.  Your body betrays you, losing balance as you crumple to the snow with no control.  There’s a sharp ache in your head, ears ringing as you try to make sense of what’s going on. As if life is stuck in slow motion, you see a sizable boulder plop into the snow next to you.

A fucking rock.  You’ll be damned if you let a rock take you out.

Trying to stand, your knees buckle beneath you.  The sharp ache in your head starts pounding, and you can’t stop blinking your bleary eyes. Fingers grazing your temple, you’re shocked at the slippery sensation on your fingertips.  Droplets of bright red dot the pristine white snow, and despite your fuzzy vision, you can tell that it's your own blood on your hands.  

“Oh, shit.” you slur.

It feels like you’re underwater (a sensation you know well from the Keeper’s trials during your fifth year).  Things are slower, soupier almost.  You can see Sebastian’s head turn when another auror shouts at him, and he narrowly misses a flurry of red bolts aimed at him from one of the attackers.  Skidding in the snow, Sebastian fires a counter curse that knocks the breeder off the edge of the cliff.

Someone is shouting your name, and Sebastian turns his head.  You think you’ll remember the look of horror on his face forever, a twisted grimace as he dashes towards you.  You want to sit up, but your body says otherwise–your head is pounding, and perhaps it’ll feel better if you sleep.  Sebastian is patting your cheeks with cold hands, repeating your name like a prayer as you hear the commotion ensue behind the two of you.

“Stay with me,” Sebastian pleads. “I’m sorry–”

You don’t hear anything after that. 

When you open your eyes, you’re in St. Mungo’s.  Specifically, the intensive care unit, your own ward.

“What the hell?” you mumble, leaning up on your elbows.

“Oh thank Merlin, you’re awake.” Sebastian sighs with relief.  You turn to look at the brunette next to you–his head is in his hands, dark waves unkempt and tangled from sleep. His beard is the longest you’ve ever seen it, shaggy and uncombed. After taking in a deep breath, he launches himself to your bed, fingers pressed against your pulse.  Once he’s determined that you are in fact well, he presses a firm kiss to your forehead.

“Is the–”

“The baby is alright,” Sebastian smiles. “Healers have been checking on you two probably twice an hour for the last two days.”

“Two days?” you gape. “I’ve been out for two days?”

“It was a nasty hit.” Sebastian shudders. “I was so worried about you, I haven’t been able to sleep,” he admits.  The chair next to you has become his little nest; bundles of blankets are tossed on the floor, a hospital grade pillow squished into the back of the chair.

“What happened?” you wince as you sit up. Sebastian immediately places more pillows behind your back, handing you a cup of water from the night stand. “Is everyone alright?”

“Everyone is alright,” Sebastian assures you. “Everett broke his arm, but that was quick to mend.  Andrew looked like a champion prizefighter, that’s for sure.  I think he likes the black eye, he thinks it makes him a bit more popular amongst the ladies at the pub.”

“And Poppy?” You ask between gulps. Merlin, you really must have been out for two days–you’re positively parched.  Before you can set the cup down, Sebastian casts aguamenti and you’re happily sipping once more.

“Safe and healthy.” Sebastian promises. “Let’s just say Bertie the dragon really bonded with Poppy while they were imprisoned together.  He made quick work of the breeders.”

You blink at your fiance, brows furrowed as you try to make sense of his comment.  When he bares his teeth and clicks his jaw open and shut, you cover your mouth with your hands.

“He ate them?” you gape. 

“Well, it was us or the breeders.” Sebastian scoffs. “Better them than me.”

“I suppose that’s why the dragon was chasing after Andrew,” you muse. “He thought Andrew was trying to kidnap Poppy, not save her.”

“Spot on.” Sebastian laughs. “Speaking of, there are some people who’d like to see you.”

The door opens, and your friends spill through the door as if they’ve been waiting right outside the entire time.  The normally stoic Anne runs to you, clutching your forearm. Ominis stands over her, pressing a long kiss to the top of your head.  

“I can’t believe the two of you.” Ominis shakes his head. “Battling a dragon in the first trimester.”

Sebastian furrows his brow. “Hey–I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known.”

“And I would’ve gone regardless.” You declare, pulling Sebastian’s hand into your own.

Andrew, Everett, and Poppy file into the room after your sister and brother-in-law. Everett has his arm in a sling, while Andrew still looks like hell.  Poppy has a few bandages on her hands, but she easily slides down at your side next to Anne.  The brunette girl gives you a teary eyed smile, mouthing her thanks.

“First mission and you get taken out by a damn boulder.” Andrew laughs.  His knuckles are bruised and cut, black eye starting to go green around the edges. “I thought you’d be an asset to the team, but you ended up a liability.”

“Oh shush,” you wave him off, pressing your hand to the soft edge of your belly. “You needed me.”

“That we did,” Everett says softly, squeezing your hand. “Thank you.  I would’ve been clobbered off the cliff if it weren’t for you.”

“I can’t believe you volunteered to come along pregnant.” Andrew blurts. “Are you insane?”

“It was for Poppy.” You admit, winking at your favorite magizoologist. “I’d do anything for her.”

“Well, I must demand that you start relaxing.” Poppy declares. “You shouldn’t lift a finger for the rest of your pregnancy.  If Sallow volunteers you for any missions, Bertie will take his head–you have my word.”

“Rest assured she won’t be doing anything but relaxing from now on.” Sebastian says firmly, crossing his arms. “I’ve already had a discussion with the ward matron about your leave of absence–”

You hold your hand up. “Sebastian, I’m not going to stop working. You know that.”

“You’re going to take a few weeks off to rest,” Sebastian continues. “Trust me, the matron told me they’ve had enough of your puking.”

You lick your lips, eyes roving the room as you take in the scene.  It’s all of your favorite people in one room, the people your child will know best.  You imagine your child growing up with them–visits from Aunt Poppy and her wild beasts, dinners with Andrew and Everett. You swallow thickly imagining Anne and Ominis doting over your newborn, and tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Are you tired?” Sebastian’s voice brings you back down to ear, his gentle murmur in your ear.

You nod, squeezing his hand.

“We’ll all be off, then.” Ominis announces. “Anne and I will get started on planning your elopement.”

You wipe at your eyes, which are now properly tearing up. “You don’t need to plan our wedding.” You let out a watery laugh.

“You’ll have the best wedding.” Anne assures you. “Certainly better than ours; I still remember Sebastian’s dates fighting on the dance floor–”

“I think that’s a story for another time,” Sebastian interjects hastily. “My wife is tired, she should get some rest.”

The motley crew files out of your hospital room, each promising to follow up with you in the days to come.  Ominis has to practically tear Anne away from you, your sister-in-law spouting questions about wedding cakes while her husband pushes her out the door.  He winks an unseeing eye at the two of you, his best friends, before the door clicks shut.

Immediately, Sebastian is climbing into your bed, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“We’re having a baby.” Sebastian says softly, his large palm flattening over your belly. “You’re having our baby.”

“We’re having a baby.” You echo, turning to him in the bed.  The hospital beds at St. Mungo’s aren’t big by any means, and Sebastian will have a backache if he sleeps with you–but it doesn’t look like he’s planning on going anywhere.

Sebastian’s eyes are trained on you, hungrily taking in every detail of your face. “I can’t wait,” he garbles out, eyes watery. “You’re giving me a family.  Gods, I’ll never be able to make it up to you.”

“Make what up to me?” You ask gently, pressing a palm to his cheek.  Tears start streaming down his face, sniffling his freckled nose.

“For everything . Dragging you into a mission with a fucking dragon,” Sebastian laughs. “For tackling you on the mountain. Being gone for nearly two weeks, not giving you the opportunity to tell me.  For wasting so much time–for not making you my wife earlier. Merlin, if I hadn’t been such a bonehead five, six years ago, things could’ve been so different–”

You press a fingertip to his lips. “I won’t have them any other way,” you whisper. “I’m so happy. You’re happy, aren’t you? You’re not upset?”

Sebastian laughs harder, shaking his head. “I couldn’t be happier. I’m going to be a father.” he says gleefully. “How could I possibly be upset?”

You chew on your lower lip. “The night I meant to tell you, you said something about us waiting until after the wedding. And at the inn, you seemed so worried that we’d be boring once we had a baby. Rather thought I was ruining your plans for us.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “I can't believe I ruined the surprise.  Darling, I was being an absolute cad that night; I can't believe I didn't see it coming.  You'd made my favorite dinner, and I turned it down for a sausage roll.” he says dramatically, shaking his head. “And I’m sorry about what I said at the inn. Pet, you and I could never be boring. Not while we’re together.”

“And you’ll be okay getting married earlier?” you ask nonchalantly, drawing circles on his chest. “Even if it wrecks our plans for a spring wedding?”

“I’ll marry you tomorrow if you let me.” Sebastian murmurs. “Fuck the plans. The only thing that matters to me is our family.”

You pull Sebastian into a hug, face nuzzling into his beard. He’s whispering into your ear–promising to shave his beard, to finish the flooring in the second bedroom as soon as he’s back home. He’ll take a few weeks off now that this case is over, and perhaps he’ll apply for low-risk cases now that he’s a father. He talks about your wedding, about how you can still get married in the center of Feldcroft if he can conjure enough tents.

Your eyelids are drooping, head resting against his chest when you think back to the topic of weddings. 

“Earlier when Anne was talking about her and Ominis’s wedding–you had two dates?” you ask sleepily. “What was that about?”

Sebastian lets out a roar of a laugh, pressing his lips against your hair. “A story for another time.  It’ll make you laugh, I promise.” he assures you. “I’ll tell you when you wake up.”

You nod, shutting your eyes.  Tucked into Sebastian’s arms, you fall asleep against his chest.

[thorias]

No, seriously, what the hell is going on here? The more information we get about this, the more confusing it becomes.

Nightcrawler encourages Remy to marry Rogue; the thought of it makes Remy smile. Then Rogue wears her famous first-date-with-Remy dress to the gala where she dances with Magneto instead and kisses him right in front of Remy. So Remy gets his heart ripped out and then dies believing that the woman he loves had chosen the other guy.

I, like many people, thought there had to be some kind of timeline reset coming to change these events because that's the only way they'd make any sense. I mean, why on Earth would you even think of doing it this way if the whole point wasn't to undo it? But Beau DeMayo has since dismissed the possibility of resolving this with time travel, so... WTF?!

Why have Rogue wear that dress? She could have worn literally anything, any other outfit, but it had to be that particular dress, a dress that has very special significance to anyone who loves the Romy relationship... and it's used as a way to completely gut Remy and the fans alike right before he gets killed?

WHY?!

And now that we know there's no time travel fix, this means that, even if Remy is resurrected as Deathbit, Rogue won't be going back in time, won't save Remy that way, won't get to rectify that moment by dancing with Remy instead...

...SO HOW DO YOU FUCKING FIX THIS THEN? WHY DO IT THIS WAY? WHAT WAS EVEN THE POINT OF THIS EXCEPT TO TAKE SOMETHING CHERISHED AND BELOVED BY THE FANS AND NIHILISTICALLY PISS ALL OVER IT JUST FOR THE SAKE OF ABJECT CRUELTY?

Was the cruelty the point? Did they just want to take something the fans loved and desecrate it because they think that's funny or something? What the fuck are we doing here?!

Yeah, there's two episodes left and a lot can still happen, but holy shit, I officially have no clue how they can pay all this off in a way that's going to be in any way satisfying or even make sense at this point...

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 9 (FINISHED SERIES, final chapter)

        

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, nonconsensual drugging, minor implication of necrophilia, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents). They also live in America (because I wasn't aware they lived in Europe prior to this series).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 14,100+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, final chapter (current).

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        (Y/N) arrived at the hospital feeling refreshed for the first time in a long while. She’s had a couple weeks to heal from her accident, and she was paid the whole time too! 

        Now she’s back at work and ready to get back to it. She fixed the star patterned lanyard around her neck and fixed her undershirt’s long sleeves. 

        She exited her car and locked the door, walking into the hospital lobby. She walked to the elevators and pressed the button for pediatrics. When the doors opened, she left the elevator and walked into the staff room, checking in. 

        She made her way to Doctor Ryan’s office and waited a moment to make sure there was no patient in the room before knocking. The door opened as Doctor Ryan’s head peeked out, a confused expression on his face before his eyes widened.

        “Oh my god! Hey!” he smiled, quickly opening the door all the way. “Come on in!”

        “Hi, sir.” (Y/N) smiled. “I’m back and ready to work!”

        “That’s great! These weeks felt so strange without you.” Doctor Ryan spoke. “Do you understand how hard it is to try and talk with Ruby? God, she bores me.” He groaned, causing (Y/N) to laugh.

        “Yeah. Ruby’s just Ruby.” (Y/N) smiled.

        “So, how are you feeling?” he questioned. “You’ve had enough time to heal up, right?”

        “Yep.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling. “I’m perfectly fine! I’ll be having my staples and stitches removed after work today.”

        “That’s great to hear!” Doctor Ryan beamed. “Just take it easy, okay? Don’t go lifting any heavy things like chairs or stuff; I can do that. And take some sitting breaks.”

        “I’m fine, it wasn’t that bad.” (Y/N) reassured, albeit she did feel warm inside knowing her superior was worried about her. “It stopped hurting after a few days, so it was just letting the wounds heal over.” She lied.

        “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Doctor Ryan smiled. “Oh, before I forget!”

        He moved over to his counter, bending down and unlocking the lock on the cabinet before opening it, pulling out a basket. The small basket had some packets and wrapped candy bars, along with fake orchids.

        "I got you some chocolates and flowers! If you're allergic to coco or milk, I have this replica of hot chocolate powder that tastes like hot chocolate, but doesn't have any milk or coco! People are so smart nowadays!” Doctor Ryan explained. “Oh, and don't worry, I checked with the missus first, so she won't be mad at me!" Doctor Ryan cooed over his wife.

        “Tell her I said thank you. And thank you to you too.” (Y/N) smiled, accepting the basket and placing it on the counter. “But you didn’t have to do this. I was only gone for about two or three weeks.”

        “I never realized how much I enjoyed your company around this place.” Doctor Ryan sighed. “I mean, seriously. Ruby could never.” 

        “What about Agatha?” (Y/N) questioned. “Wasn’t she here?”

        “Taking vacation. She just divorced her husband, so she’s sunbathing in the Bahamas.” Doctor Ryan explained.

        “About time.” (Y/N) scoffed. “Her husband was a dick and all he knew was how to use it.”

        “Careful, don’t let our boss hear that.” Doctor Ryan chuckled. “That’s potty language.” 

        “Oops.” (Y/N) hummed, though she wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

        “Ready for today? We have six scheduled, and walk-in’s from there.” Doctor Ryan explained, picking up his computer. “First one comes in 20 minutes for an annual check-up and flu shot. Let’s get everything situated.”

        “Yes, sir.” She smiled.

She picked up antiseptic spray and wiped down the examination table, replacing a new paper sheet on it so no accidental snot or blood spills could infect the cushions, before looking at Doctor Ryan.

        “Excuse me, sir?” (Y/N) spoke.

        “Yes?” he hummed, arranging the pan with a antibacterial wipe, a lidded-syringe vaccine, a cotton ball and a bandaid. 

        “Do you think it’s possible for me to continue my education online? Or transfer to another Treegrowth hospital program somewhere else?” she questioned.

        “What? Why?” Doctor Ryan questioned, stopping what he was doing as he looked over to her.

        “I’ve been wanting to move out of the city lately, but I’m worried about my education.” (Y/N) lied. “I still want my degree after all.” 

        In truth, she wanted to leave the city. Even though she hid Penelope’s body, once it’s found a search will be conducted. After that, they’ll see Andrew on the cameras, and it’ll be game over for him. 

        (Y/N)’s not safe either. Considering she led Penelope out of the store to the alley with no cameras, and came back without her jacket alongside Penelope not following her; it’s safe to say she’s a prime suspect. 

        So I got rid of that jacket for nothing… (Y/N) mentally sighed. 

        Well, it wasn’t entirely for nothing. At least it kept people from getting suspicious so far. She would’ve had the police called on her if she walked into the store wearing blood (whether she entered wearing the blood or not, and she’s unsure if she could’ve used a fashion excuse). 

        It’s at least given her some time to plan other than immediately going to jail.

        It doesn’t help that not only was (Y/N) seen on the cameras last with Penelope and Andrew was in the store too, but it’s safe to say that seeing the two enter and leave together is more than enough evidence that the two are “working together” (the police will say).

        She highly doubts she can place the blame on Andrew for “blackmailing” or “threatening her life” her to where she had to kill Penelope. It just wouldn’t be believable with Andrew in a wheelchair and (Y/N) willingly buying clothes and food for him.

        As shitty as it’ll be, she’ll have to move. She can’t move back to her hometown considering: one, her parents are dead; two, Ren might still be living there and she’s not risking it.

        However, the family farm is back at home and if Rose wasn’t lying, then it’s now in (Y/N)’s name. She’ll receive a letter in the mail in a few weeks regarding her parents wills’, but for now she’ll have to brainstorm somewhere else to stay.

        It shouldn’t be hard to find another apartment on the other side of the city considering how shitty this place is, rent would probably be low or at least decent too. 

        She could almost laugh at her luck. Maybe there is a God who favors her—it’s about damn time considering how much she’s suffered for this. 

        “Move out of the city?” Doctor Ryan questioned, sighing. “So I take it you’re not taking over my night shifts…?”

        “Sorry…” she smiled sheepishly. “My boyfriend and I want to move someplace bigger, so we’re looking outside of the city.”

        “Wait? You have a boyfriend?!” he gasped, almost dropping the pan of needed medical supplies.

        “Yeah… we've been together a year now. Met him in a library at the beginning of college.” She smiled.

        “Oh, that’s great! I didn’t know this but that’s great!” he laughed. “Whats his name?”

        “And—... A-Andes.” (Y/N) hummed, smiling as she lied.

        “Whats he look like?” he questioned.

        Oh, his hair as luxurious as a raven. His eyes are as green as lush bushes from Iceland. His skin is as pale as winter’s first snow. His smile might as well be Cupid’s bow striking an arrow through my heart. She thought.

        “Honeypot brown hair and eyes like roasted chestnuts during Christmas.” (Y/N) cooed, almost cringing at the thought of speaking about another man (even if they were just imaginary).

        “Sounds like a dreamboat.” Doctor Ryan teased. “Reminds me of me in my young years.”

        “You’re only 10 years older…” (Y/N) pointed out.

        Even if he was older, sometimes it felt like she was more mature between the two, but it’s probably a persona for work considering they work with children. (Y/N) doesn’t hang out with Doctor Ryan outside of work since he’s her professor, so she's not aware of his home persona; however, she doesn't really care on finding out. She likes this Doctor Ryan the way he is, and she'd feel terrible if her superior knew the kind of person she actually was outside of these pastel nursing scrubs. 

        “Well, you still have a year left for your degree…” Doctor Ryan explained. “I can talk with our educational board later, but I don’t see why it’d be a problem. You do your research and send in your homework on time, and you do good during manual instruction too… so you’ll just have to go to another Treegrowth hospital and work with one of the pediatricians there.”

        “Thank you.” (Y/N) smiled, letting out a relieved sigh. 

        “Speaking of school, you don’t have to worry about those research papers assigned over your resting period. I’ll extend the deadlines.” Doctor Ryan explained.

        “Oh… thank you, sir.” (Y/N) smiled, surprised.

        She had completely forgotten about those papers, she was busy doing other things during her break, such as spending days planning her next move and while keeping a low profile (and thinking of dinner plans to make sure Andrew was eating too).

        Over her break, she had removed Andrew’s staples on his ankles and started helping him with physical therapy for his legs. It might be a few months before he can run, but he’s been shown to stand and walk for short periods at a time, so she’s not too concerned in something going wrong during his recovery. 

        She also got rid of her own stitches and staples, avoiding the emergency unit of the hospital too so no doctor can try and schedule a check-up with her. 

        She made sure to visit Ashley and place some flowers in her memoir. Now, she couldn’t place them exactly where the grave was in risk of someone potentially finding the suspicious sight and reporting it to the police, so she settled for placing them on the trail’s entrance. 

        She visited Ashley’s grave and apologized for her harsh words nights ago, remorseful for blaming Ashley for her struggles. It wasn’t her fault, and it probably wasn’t her demon’s fault either; it was something (Y/N) did to herself and she had to take responsibility.

        Worrying so much about Andrew, Ashley, and what to do after Penelope death, she’s completely forgotten about her college papers.

        “I’ll go get the patient and get his growth developments.” (Y/N) smiled, walking out of the room. 

        (Y/N) left the room and let out a sigh.

        Maybe killing Penelope was a terrible idea; unlike Ashley, Penelope’s home was here! While Penelope didn’t have any family, she did have co-workers. Soon enough they’d grow suspicious and call the police for a wellness check eventually (it’s not like they’d be investigating the hospital and its illegal methods, so that’s not a concern). 

        Penelope could be reported missing tomorrow and it wouldn’t take long for a missing person paper to come out. 

        It was almost frustrating really for her to have gotten caught up in her emotions. She used to be so good at bottling them up, but recently it seems like there's a hole in her bottle at the bottom that causing all her emotions to pour out quickly. 

        It made her want to scream and shout, but she couldn't do that at her job, so she resorted to kicking the floor's baseboards lightly and silently screaming as she pulled her lanyard around her neck, strangling her. 

        Well, it's better Penelope is dead. She won't be a threat to Andrew anymore.

        That thought made her feel a bit better, causing her to stop her silent tantrum and readjust her lanyard.

        She had a patient to meet and make sure nothing was wrong with the kid. She met with the receptionist, taking a patient's clipboard of information they filled out in the waiting room for Doctor Ryan. She opened the waiting room door and smiled, reading the patient's name. 

        "Zoe Hoops?" she read. "Follow me, please." 

        .

        .

        For the first time in who knows how long, (Y/N) felt excited leaving work. 

        Work for (Y/N) was an escape. Instead of worrying about her problems, she’d worry about someone else’s. Even if she still has problems, it felt good being able to leave work with a smile on her face.

        Nothing went wrong during her shift. Nobody died. Zoe didn’t cry during her flu shot, she’s getting very big now. George sprained his ankle but he was walking like a champ. Nelly got discharged after her fight with a RSV. Tom and Jerry played trains in the hallways and are said to be discharged soon. 

        It felt nice being bit by the harsh autumn air, knowing that winter was coming up.

        It felt nice walking out of the hospital doors, even if her feet ached and there was a sore spot in her back.

        It felt nice seeing the sun rising, brightening up the city and her mind with a new light.

        It felt nice driving home, knowing for the first time that someone was actually waiting for her to come home.

        It felt nice feeling the heated air from the apartment as she opened the door. All the locks were undid; Andrew must’ve kept them unlocked for her.

        There’s a chance he went back to bed since all the lights are off. She quietly closed the door and locked all five locks on the door. She didn’t bother turning on a light as she planned on going right back to bed after her 12 hour shift, placing her purse down on the hallway table in the dark.

        She walked into the living room, opening the curtain and checking the locks on the window to make sure none were loose or unlocked. She finished that window and walked to the knife one, only to feel a rough push. 

        She was knocked to the ground with a thud, landing on her back and quickly on alert. A short yelp leaving her as she got pinned to her carpeted living room floor. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as she squirmed and kicked, trying to kick off her assaulter as she hit and scratched. 

        It was Andrew.

        .

        .

        Bored would be an understatement. Andrew was practically dead as he looked through the category of movies he was illegally pirating. 

        What? Don't judge. Nobody wants to spend $10 on a movie they're only going to watch once or twice. If you bought a new movie every day to watch in a 30 day month, you'd have spent $300 on movies alone in a single month. He'll take the money saving option and $10 a month for VPN. Besides, (Y/N) was the one that showed him this site on her TV.

        He browsed through the movies mindlessly before picking a Ryan Reynold's movie called Waiting...

        He watched the movie with a neutral expression. The jokes really weren't really that funny when he couldn't hear (Y/N) laughing in his ear at them. He wished she was here with him right now. He wondered if she'd laugh at the inappropriate jokes, disgusted at the cook's handling rude customer's food, or sympathize for Calvin's fear of peeing outside of his home's bathroom. 

        Maybe he'll watch the movie with her when she gets home from work. He really couldn't be bothered to focus on this right now. 

        A thought crossed his mind as he thought: damn, was it really this hard to watch a movie alone before? He doesn't remember needing Ashley's commentary on every piece of media he's consumed, yet with (Y/N) it feels like he needs her approval or disproval before he can decide if he likes something or not.

        He groaned, throwing his head back on the couch cushion, before noticing the open front door at the corner of his eye. He immediately stood up, alarmed as he carefully walked over to the door, peeking outside to see if anything (or anyone) was there.

        Nobody.

        He closed the door, leaning his weight on it. He couldn't walk far or stand long, his ankles having a small ache to them still. 

        (Y/N) didn't leave the door unlocked, he remembered watching her leave for work and locking the door behind her. She had cooked him breakfast as he complained about wanting to sleep in with her longer, clinging onto her waist from behind as she cooked him waffles. It was 2 AM, at least six hours until (Y/N) would return home, he remembered her telling him. She had left her phone number on the refrigerator for him to call if he needs her (he's been pondering if he should.

        Andrew knows she takes security very seriously. He's seen her check her window and door locks every morning when she wakes up and every night before bed. A paranoid little thing she is, but he thinks that's good considering this city isn't a very good place to live in. He would rather she be overly paranoid than overly careless. 

        He re-locked the five door locks on her door; a bullock, a chain-lock, a sliding lock, a deadbolt, and a classic handle lock. He hopped into his wheelchair and spent the time re-checking all her window locks (three in total on each window).

        She must've spent hundreds to maybe even a thousand on all her security, it's a miracle she doesn't have cameras in her apartment too. Maybe she's cautious of digital security. He noticed she uses VPN's, fake emails and usernames that's not her name, uses no social media, and weekly changes her passwords. 

        He's not sure why she's so paranoid, but he'd rather wait until she's ready to speak. She's already done so much for him, housing him, feeding him, buying him clothes, taking over his hospital bills, and even letting him sleep in her own bed—he'd do anything other than make her mad at him, not when he's living life so good.

        He has to start looking for a job. There's no way he can work in person, maybe he can be a teleprompter for an insurance company or something... The both of them did agree that he'd live with her so long as he pays her back eventually; and he's not too sure he can repay her with chores and homemade food like a househusband...

        He heard a drawer shut somewhere in the apartment, immediately alerting him. He got in his wheelchair and rolled over to the kitchen, grabbing a large cleaver.

        Ah, memories.

        He quietly strolled down the hallway, cautiously looking around before noticing the bedroom door was open. He remembered (Y/N) closing it before work, so Andrew just spent his time on the living room couch waiting for her to return to him.

        It'd be nice if he had a gun in case it was another hitman who his parents hired to finish the job, but he doubts (Y/N) casually has one lying around. 

        The door was cracked open, so he took a breath before opening it all the way. The door was loud and creaky, something (Y/N) intentionally made sure of.

        There was a man rummaging through her drawers, hunched over as he looked through her bedside drawer, snatching something before putting it in his pocket. He had blond hair, a black button down shirt and blue jeans, classy and uncovered for someone who breaks into an apartment. 

        A robber?

        "What do you think you're doing?" Andrew questioned, already annoyed. He really didn't want to go through anymore drama in his life. 

        The man looked over his shoulder, though his expression didn't seem surprised, but excited as he smiled. His hand moved from the drawer and pulled a gun, aiming it at Andrew.

        Fuck.

        "Bang!" the man exclaimed, pulling the gun's trigger.

        Nothing.

        "No bullets." He smiled, chuckling as Andrew clutched his chest, practically half-dead from a damn near heart attack.

        "Jesus, fuck..." Andrew hissed, holding his chest where his erratic heart was beating. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

        "Ren. It's nice to finally meet (Y/N)'s pet. Andrew, right?" The man, Ren, smiled as he placed the gun down into her drawer, closing it up. 

        "How do you know our names? Have you been watching us?" Andrew questioned, ignoring the man's mocking words. 

        There's no point in being hostile. He's not so sure he can win in a fight without his legs, and the confidence this man is oozing is really making Andrew second-guess himself, almost like he was the one in the wrong instead. 

        "Right. Let's get to the point." Ren hummed, plopping down on (Y/N)'s side of the bed, picking up the pillow and sniffing it.

        Andrew felt his eye twitch, enraged and disgusted at the scene in front of him.

        "I'm Ren. I'm (Y/N)'s childhood friend from church and I'm her husband." Ren smiled.

        "Husband?!" Andrew exclaimed.

        "Oh, right. Soon-to-be-husband. I just gotta propose and take her back home and yada-yada, you don't wanna hear our sappy love story." He laughed, waving his hand in the air. 

        "Stop the bullshit. What the hell are you doing here?" Andrew snapped, watching as Ren squeezed (Y/N)'s pillow to his chest.

        "Oh, just checking in." He smiled. "Yeah. I have a hotel around here. Only for a week though!"

        "What do you mean 'checking in?'" Andrew hissed, making quotations with his fingers.

        "Checking in!" Ren smiled, gesturing to a poster in the room.

        The poster was of one of her favorite bands. Upon closure inspection, Andrew noticed a small hole, a black reflection peeking right back at him. A camera.

        "Hey, what the fuck?!" Andrew exclaimed, swirling his head to face Ren. "Why the fuck is there a camera?!" 

        "Oh, I just installed that! It's even smaller with audio too! Oh, has technology grown over the years! It makes my job so easy." Ren gushed, acting as if nothing was wrong.

        "What job? Stop ignoring my damn questions!" Andrew hissed, strolling closer to Ren. 

        He grabbed Ren's collar, forcing Ren off the bed and holding him down to Andrew's eyesight as Andrew gritted his teeth. A dark storm as he looked at this strange man who decides to waltz in his home, sit on his girlfriend's bed, hug hisgirlfriend's pillow, place a camera in his girlfriend's room.        

        "I'm going to fucking kill you if you don't leave my home right now..." Andrew spat out, a harsh glare in his eyes.

        "Your home?" Ren laughed. "It's not your home, silly! It's under (Y/N)'s name!"

        "Do you wanna die?" Andrew snipped back.

        "Oh please, you're wheel-bound." Ren chuckled, his brown eyes challenging Andrew's green eyes. "Besides, you're very lucky I haven't killed you yet; especially when you've been sleeping with my girl." 

        "Your girl?!" Andrew exclaimed, his head butting into Ren's, ignoring the sting as his hands shook, itching to punch Ren's teeth in. "She's mine! You stay the hell away before I fucking gut you!" 

        "I love your enthusiasm, but you don't love her." Ren laughed, patting Andrew's shoulder as if consoling a child.

        Andrew quickly wound his fist, gathering momentum before punching Ren's face.

        Ren's head knocked back, hitting the mattress as a trail of blood poured out of one of his nostrils. He quickly sat up, clutching his nose.

        "Ha. Ah... I'll let that slide..." he breathed out through his mouth, his eye twitching in a sign of annoyance. "See... I'm not here to hurt anyone. That's already over." He spoke, grabbing a tissue from tissue box next to (Y/N)'s bedside for sick days. 

        "What do you mean 'it's already over?'" Andrew questioned.

        "Her parents?" Ren smiled, tilting his head to the side as he plugged his bleeding nose with the tissue he grabbed. "The (L/N)s?"

        "What did you do?" Andrew demanded, grabbing Ren's collar once more. 

        "Haven't you heard? They're dead!" Ren smiled.

        "I know that! I mean, what did you do?" Andrew groaned, impatient with Ren's childish demeanor. 

        "Well, I killed them!" Ren chirped. "Well, I didn't directly kill them, but I played a part in it." 

        "Spill it out! How?" Andrew snapped, annoyed as he shook Ren's collar.

        "I hired a hitman. Quite pricey too! He just crashed an auto-driving car into a gas tank and blew the couple up!" Ren explained.

        "W-what?" Andrew questioned, shocked. "Why the hell did you do that?!"

        "Well, they were no use to me anymore!" Ren laughed. "When they finally left that farm to go visit (Y/N) in years, I knew it was finally time! I had been following them for years, so when I saw their car drive out of town I knew they were going to see her! My AirTag told me where they were."

        Andrew's heart dropped, surprised and disgusted at the man in front of him. How dare he lay his eyes on (Y/N)? How dare he stalk her?

        "So when they led me here, I had (Y/N)'s address and knew where she was, so they were of no use!" Ren smiled. "Oh, tricky little thing! I'll give her credit, she escaped my radar—but she's back now~" Ren laughed, his bloody tissue started to overfill with blood as it traveled lower and lower into the tissue white cotton, tainting it with crimson. 

        "So... you've been after her this whole time?" Andrew questioned. "Why? Is it the farm's money? What do you want from her?" 

        "Her." Ren smiled. "I want her. Such beauty shouldn't be for just anyone to see."

        "What makes you think only you can have her?" Andrew snapped.

        "What makes you think you can have her?" Ren retorted. "She was mine first! I had her before you did!"

        "Well she's mine now!" Andrew hissed. "Besides, she likes me better than you. She chose me after all."

        That earned him an uppercut, biting his tongue as he rolled back in his chair away from Ren, grabbing the cleaver in his lap and holding it as he gritted his teeth.

        "Oops. You seemed to have upset me for a second..." Ren chuckled. "I will not apologize; however, I have a deal."

        "Shove it up your ass!" Andrew exclaimed.

        "It involves Ashley." Ren hummed.

        Andrew's grip on his weapon immediately loosened, hesitantly lowering down onto his lap.

        "A-Ashley...?" he questioned. "My sister? You know her?" 

        "Knew her." Ren scoffed. "She's dead." 

        Andrew's heart dropped for what seemed like the umpteenth time. He stood up his full height, towering Ren's 5'9" body with his 5'11" self. He grabbed Ren's collar and knocked him back onto the mattress, seething as he glared at Ren.

        "What the fuck did you do to her?! I'll fucking kill you!" Andrew shouted.

        "Wait! I didn't do it this time!" Ren gasped as Andrew started choking him. 

        "Then who else?!" Andrew hissed. 

        "(Y/N)!" Ren exclaimed. 

        "(Y/N)?" Andrew questioned, his grip loosening on Ren's neck. "Explain."

        "Look in her bedside drawer." Ren hummed, tilting his head to the cabinets he was rummaging through earlier.

        Andrew hesitated, before letting go of Ren's neck. He fell back into his wheelchair, before reaching over and opening the cabinet, surprised as he held his breath.

        In the drawer, there was a small box and a snack-sized bag labelled Rophynol. There was a pocketknife with a rose on it, and a gun that Ren pulled out earlier. It looked awfully familiar, and it had no bullets too... And finally, there was a black and red occult charm, one Andrew immediately recognized as Ashley's.

        "Jesus... no..." Andrew gasped, gently picking up and cradling the charm, the only thing remaining of Ashley. "No, please..." 

        "Oh, how cute! My little angel is into the occult now! Isn't she so pure?" Ren cooed. "Is what I'd say if I didn't know that was Ashley's... My angel is far too pure to be involved with that demon crap." 

        "How do you know Ashley's name...?" Andrew grumbled. "How do I know you didn't plant this?" Andrew hissed, protectively cradling the charm in his hand.

        "Because I have no reason to kill Ashley." Ren hummed. "Well, scratch that. I would've. She got what she got for what she tried to do." Ren smiled. "The only reason I know of Ashley is because I followed (Y/N) to her grave!"

        "A-a grave?" Andrew spluttered. 

        "Duh. I told you she was dead." Ren rolled his eyes. "You really don't listen. My angel is so patient and kind, accepting strays like you into her home..."

        "But... this isn't proof that you didn't kill her..." Andrew muttered. "(Y/N)... she wouldn't kill anyone. She's just perfect. A darling... She wouldn't do it—you would!"

        "I would—and have." Ren smirked. "But that's not what we're discussing right now. Here." Ren hummed rummaging in his back pocket before pulling out some small folded squares. "Look."

        Andrew accepted the pictures, opening them. He unfolded the squares and saw five pictures. One of Penelope, (Y/N)'s co-worker Andrew remembers, and (Y/N) out in the rain in an alleyway. Another photo showed a knife in (Y/N)'s hand, along with one in Penelope's. The third had a photo of (Y/N) on top of Penelope, straddling her waist with a pocketknife in the air. The fourth had the knife stabbed into Penelope's chest, along with multiple other wounds on her chest too. Finally, the last photo showed (Y/N) throwing the body in a public clothing donation center. 

        "Right in the act!" Ren laughed, gasping for air as if it was there funniest thing ever. "I followed you guys later that day while the hitman did his job! I can't believe I actually caught that! Turns out my angel is such a little vixen!"

        "This can't be real..." Andrew rasped.

        "Oh! It is! And look, best one for last!" Ren smirked, grabbing final photo in another pocket, pulling it out and unfolding it for Andrew. "H-ha! Ha! Here! Lookie!" Ren laughed, waving a photo of (Y/N) in the rain with a set of flowers, placing them down on a trail entrance. "Giving her condolences to her victim! Oh, she's so pure! I haven't even bothered visiting Ben's grave!" he cackled. 

        “You think this is something to laugh about?! People are dead!” Andrew shouted, shoving the occult charm into his pocket before glaring at Ren.

        “So sensitive… it’s just a blood relative…” Ben sighed.

        “That’s my sister!” Andrew snapped. 

        “It’s not like you haven’t killed anyone before.” Ben hummed, crossing his arms.

        “You son of a— w-wait…” Andrew’s threat fell short, taking in Ren’s words. “How… do you know?”

        “My father owns our town jail, so we have access to arrest records to check for felonies and such—we look up people and decide if they should be held in jail or be sent to prison.” Ren explained. “You showed up on my records, lucky you!” 

        “Damn it…” Andrew hissed, gritting his teeth.

        Of course, (Y/N)’s stalker has to be involved with the police. Why wouldn’t he?

        “If I recall… you have three accounts of second-degree murder. Cannibalism. Escaping house arrest. Invading officers—“ Ren listed.

        “Hey! Hey! That’s not what happened! That’s bullshit!” Andrew snapped.

        “It’s what the system says. You really think the justice system is gonna believe a murderer?” Ren chuckled.

        “It was self-defense and necessity. I had to do it.” Andrew hissed.

        “Right. And the girl that went missing in your hometown? I'm fairly certain you caused it—same with the man shot in the park a city nearby a month ago. That's two more accounts of second-degree murder, but anyways…” Ren hummed, playfully rolling his eyes in a teasing motion. “You asked why I was here earlier…”

        “To check in, you said…” Andrew muttered.

        “That’s not all!” Ren chirped. “I told you I’ll only be here for a week, so we only have a week for this. I want you to help me.” 

        “Help? Help you? As if!” Andrew scoffed, grabbing his cleaver.

        “Oh… well, I guess the police can be more helpful then…” Ren hummed.

        Damn it.

        “What is it?” Andrew gritted through his teeth. “What do you want?”

        “(Y/N).” Ren smiled.

        “I already told you. She’s mine!” Andrew hissed.

        “No, she’s not!” Ren hissed, clenching his fist. “You don’t love her! How can you when she killed your sister?”

        Andrew opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out.

        Because how could he love someone that killed his sister?

        Ren smiled, pleased to see Andrew couldn’t come up with anything.

        “See? How can you love a murderer? She’s killed innocent people, and you love that?” Ren chuckled, smiling. “(Y/N)’s not that innocent little nurse who just helps from the kindness of her heart. She does it to feel better about herself, an ego to fulfill. If you can’t love that side of her, you don’t deserve her. Do you really love that side of her? I mean, how do you know you're not next? Not even her own co-worker was off-limits!"

        “Do you really ever shut up…?” Andrew grumbled, adverting Ren’s eyes.

        “Let’s make this easy.” Ren hummed. “You help me get (Y/N), and this whole apartment is yours! I’ll send you rent money, and grocery money, and whatever money you want that will keep you satisfied in this apartment—so long as you don’t leave it! Or, ya know, you can and just go to jail. That works for me, but I’m trying to give you a chance here.” 

        “Why not just kill me?” Andrew questioned.

        “It’ll upset my angel too much, dummy!” Ren chuckled, patting Andrew’s shoulder like he was swatting away a toddler’s joke. “In order to prevent anymore… accidents from her… it’d be better to make it seem like you betrayed her! Which you will if you wanna live!”

        Andrew slapped away Ren’s hand, annoyed as he sighed. “And how are we gonna do that?”

        “You are gonna drug her!” Ren smiled.

        ”Excuse me?” Andrew snapped. 

        “It’s easier than you’d think, especially with this!” Ren smiled, opening the bedside drawer and shaking the bag of white powder. “I can only assume this is Rohypnol since there’s a box here of it. This is a date-rape drug, or a sleep medicine gone wrong.” 

        “Really?” Andrew cringed, making a face. “I have to literally put it in her drink?”

        “Yeah, or a liquid food like soup. Doesn’t matter. Just make sure she eats it.” Ren shrugged, placing the bag back into the drawer. “I’ll leave that there. Remember, you have a week.” 

        “And if I don’t, I die or get arrested…” Andrew muttered, watching as Ren moved around, grabbing a small box in his pocket before walking into the bathroom.

        ”Don’t even think about it…” Andrew hissed. “I share that bathroom with her.”

        Ren looked over, before shrugging his shoulders. “Fine. Bathroom cameras are off-limits…” 

        “You’re gross…” Andrew groaned, rolling his eyes. “Why do you need those pictures?”

        Ren ignored him, instead placing a camera in another corner of the room for full coverage.

        “Why do you bother doing this?” Andrew questioned.

        “Why not?” Ren smiled. 

        Ren noticed the answer didn’t satisfy Andrew as he glared at him, so he spoke again.

        “And to make sure she’s doing okay.” Ren hummed.

        “I think more than half of her problems would be gone if it wasn’t for you.” Andrew grumbled.

        “You can say what you want…” Ren spoke. “But just remember, you have only a week left with her. Do you understand.”

        “Yeah. Okay.” Andrew muttered.

        “By the end of this week, you should have her unconscious. You will not mention me or any cameras. Nothing.” Ren ordered. “When you drug her, give me a call.”

        Ren pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, his number already written down on it. Seems he had this all planned.

        “Be quick about it when you call. The drug shouldn’t take long to kick in. And use the whole bag if you can—the drug is tasteless and odorless so she won’t know any different.” Ren explained.

        “Okay. Okay.” Andrew hissed, upset as he snatched the paper and shoved it in his pocket. 

        “I’ll see you tomorrow. I have some stuff to show you.” Ren hummed.

        Andrew followed Ren as he put cameras in other rooms of (Y/N)’s apartment, before leaving out the front door, driving away in a silver Honda Odyssey.

        Andrew sat around in silence, looking around at the apartment.

        He felt angry. Angry at Ren and his blackmail. Angry at (Y/N) for lying to him and taking away his only family he considered. Angry at himself for letting this all happen and being so easy to control.

        He felt upset. Upset at Ren taking control of his life. Upset at (Y/N) for pushing her way into his life. And upset at himself for allowing his life to be controlled like this.

        “Fuck…” he groaned, covering his eyes with his hands.

        .

        .

        She was knocked to the ground with a thud, landing on her back and quickly on alert. A short yelp leaving her as she got pinned to her carpeted living room floor. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as she squirmed and kicked, trying to kick off her assaulter as she hit and scratched. 

        It was Andrew.

        Andrew had a crazed look in his eyes. An angry expression on his face that matched his panic at the hospital that night he tried to figure out what to do next after discharge.

        He was mad, and there was a cleaver raised in the air just a few inches from her face.

        “Andrew! Andrew, it’s me!” (Y/N) gasped, reaching her hands up and grabbing his wrist.

        Was he mad at her? For what? Does he believe she's an intruder? But that wouldn't explain why he has a cleaver ready in his hand.

        "Andrew!" (Y/N) squirmed, digging her nails down into his wrist to hopefully make him let go.

        It won't work. He's pumped with too much adrenaline to even register the pain, that or he's able to tolerate it. Either way, both situations are bad for her and could result terribly. 

        "You son of a bitch! You killed her!" Andrew hissed, fighting to slam the cleaver down. 

        Oh god fucking damn it. (Y/N) mentally groaned.

        Of course he'd figure it out eventually, but she was hoping to break it to him lightly, if that's even possible. 

        “You don’t understand!” (Y/N) retorted, struggling to hold back Andrew as his free hand tried pinning down her arms. “I had to! I had to!”

        “You didn’t have to do shit!” Andrew snapped, furious as the cleaver came closer to her head.

        “She was gonna kill me first! I had to defend myself!” (Y/N) blurted out.

        “So you killed her?!” Andrew snarled.

        “I panicked! The situation was too far gone to de-escalate.” (Y/N) snapped.

        “That’s no excuse!” Andrew hissed, the sharp blade of her own cleaver getting closer to her head.

        There was a moment where she considered that she might actually not be able to escape this one. With his strength against her, this isn’t a fight she can win. 

        “So what? I just let her kill me?” (Y/N) scoffed,  her voice strained as she was losing, the blade grazing just above her nose and between her eyes.

        “Yes!” Andrew snarled. “It should’ve been you!”

        The sudden shock that jolted through her body shouldn’t have been surprising, it was her versus his sister, of course he’d choose her over his unprofessional nurse—but it still hurt to hear.

        “If you kill me, you’ll pay.” (Y/N) snapped, a new wave of anger taking over her. “Even if it’s not me, you’ll pay. I don’t have to kill you myself for it to happen.” (Y/N) hissed.

        There was a falter in his grip, tears welling up in his eyes as his grip loosened slightly, his hesitancy a mistake as she moved her hands off his wrists. She gripped the blade’s end, ignoring the already stinging sensation as it pressed into her palms in a line.

        Even if the blade comes down, her hands will take the blow. She doesn’t need her hands to live, and she’s ready to make that sacrifice.

        Her anger flared as a wave of adrenaline rushed through her, aiming to survive and escape. She grabbed the cleaver and pulled it back to her, catching Andrew off as he let go.

        She kicked his stomach, before pinning him back on the ground, raising the cleaver.

        “I can’t do it…” Andrew muttered, tears welting up in his eyes, a look of defeat as he made no effort to retrieve the cleaver hovering over him. “I can’t kill you.”

        His hands went to her hips, loosely holding them as he stayed on the ground, (Y/N)’s body hovering over his. 

        (Y/N) glared at him, the cleaver raised up high as she aimed for his neck, gripping the cleaver’s handle tighter.

        “Just who do you think you are…?” she spat out, watching as tears fell down Andrew’s face. “You think you can just kill me after all I’ve done?” she questioned.

        Her twin buns were messy, one of her buns loose as her star hairclip threatened to fall from her hair. Her nurse lanyard dangled down on Andrew, one of her hands resting next to Andrew’s head as the other held her kitchen cleaver.

        She watched the tears fall down his face, before throwing the cleaver across the room, probably creating a mark on her wall she’ll worry about later. She threw the cleaver so they both wouldn't make a drastic mistake they couldn't change. There wasn't any need for more bloodshed, all it did was get them both in trouble numerous times. 

        “Was there really no other way?” Andrew questioned, his hands tracing self-assuring circles on her hips. “You really couldn’t have done anything other than kill her?”

        (Y/N) paused, thinking. Maybe if she hadn’t provoked Ashley to attack by spraying perfume in her eyes, perhaps they could’ve talked it out. She could’ve made a compromise with Ashley, or even go as far as to dropping the whole murder idea all together.

        But Ashley Graves is dead, in an amateur grave (Y/N) dug up and covered with dirt herself, some flowers resting in the forest entrance as an apology and tribute to her. It won't fix anything, not what's happened in the past or future or now, but it's something to ease her mind, help her with the guilt. 

        “I don’t know.” (Y/N) admitted. “I just did what I could; isn’t that what we all do?”

        “It still hurts though.” Andrew sighed.

        “It always will.” (Y/N) spoke. “But it’ll lessen over time.”

        “It’s just… she’s probably the only thing left that would’ve helped me know who I am.” Andrew groaned, tilting his head to the side to look at the wall, avoiding her eyes. 

        “You’re Andrew, dummy.” (Y/N) spoke.

        “Well I don’t feel like Andrew.” Andrew muttered.

        “When do we feel like ourselves these days?” she laughed, as if he made a funny joke. 

        Andrew glanced up at her, unamused. 

        “Come on, you have a whole new path ahead of you. You don’t have anything from the past holding you back, so what’s stopping you?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “I-I don’t know. Maybe I’m worried.” Andrew stammered, unsure really what to say or how to put his feelings into words. 

        “About what?” she pried, getting up off his waist.

        “I don’t think it’ll work out well for me…” He groaned, exhausted.

        “That’s everyone’s fear. You’re not special.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

        “I mean being a criminal and all…” Andrew added.

        “Same boat here.” (Y/N) hummed. “C’mon, surely we can help each other? Make a truce and no more murdering?”

        Andrew looked hesitant, staring off to the side as he thought. It was risky, especially after all they've done. (Y/N) lied to Andrew; but so did Andrew. (Y/N) betrayed Andrew; but so will Andrew.

        "Okay, fine. No more murder." Andrew sighed, bringing his hands up and wiping the tears from his eyes. 

        He felt almost embarrassed that he cried in front of (Y/N), but he knew she wouldn't say anything about it. She really doesn't get the right to make fun of him for it after all the times she's cried in front of him. 

        .

        .

        Even if they did a truce, Andrew was distant. He stopped sleeping in her bed, and insisted on sleeping on the sleeper sofa in the living room. It doesn't take a genius to know Andrew was upset about Ashley's death; anyone would be upset really.

        (Y/N)'s believes the reason why Andrew's so upset about it is because Ashley was probably the only key to Andrew knowing who he really was. Ashley's the only person who knew Andrew before he jumped and got amnesia, and there's no guarantee the amnesia will ever go away; in fact it could potentially worsen. 

        But (Y/N) would rather not think of that. She can't change what's been done.

        However, Andrew hasn't been eating much. It doesn't take a genius to know that Andrew's gone into a state of depression, feeling hopeless and lost on who he is and what to do next. 

        They've had their arguments and bumps, (Y/N)'s had to force Andrew eat and make sure he's taking care of himself while she's gone at work. It seems like he's just getting worse by the day, and it's been a full week now. Though Andrew's come around to joking and smiling more, there's still a barrier between the two, one Andrew won't allow to break down no matter how many times (Y/N) bangs on it.

        But he's eating again, in fact he's insisted on making dinner today after (Y/N)'s complaints. It was Andrew's turn to cook dinner—well, it's been his turn for a while now, but (Y/N) didn't want to force him to cook when he wasn't feeling well. Andrew never really cooked a meal that took longer than 30 minutes, but (Y/N)'s been insistent on him learning how to cook proper meals since it was a basic skill needed as an adult, so here he is being forced (guided) to cook beef tips and rice. 

        "You're checking the locks again?" Andrew sighed, watching her pace around the kitchen as he cooked.

        Andrew stirred the beef tips, watching (Y/N) check all the three locks on each window, she was such a worrywart.

        "You're gonna get wrinkles if you keep stressing yourself out like this." Andrew commented with a smirk.

        "I think I'd look pretty hot with wrinkles. Like a MILF." (Y/N) snickered. "Besides, I'm just being cautious! Do you understand how many creeps are out in the world?"

        "Yeah, I'm looking at one right now." Andrew teased. 

        "Oh, ahaha." (Y/N) laughed sarcastically. "You think you're so funny? Only funny thing about you is your face."

        "I prefer the term 'handsome', but thanks." Andrew hummed smartly.

        "Oh, yes, so handsome..." (Y/N) cooed, leaning over the counter and pinching Andrew's cheek, watching his eye close as he accepted the treatment, albeit a hint of hesitancy. "That rice is gonna be done soon. Be a dear and check it."

        "Yes, ma'am..." Andrew commented teasingly, watching her let go of his face so he could check the rice cooker's timer. 

        "What movie do you wanna watch tonight?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "I dunno. You decide." Andrew hummed, keeping his eye on the timer before going back to stirring the beef tips.

        "Ugh, Andrew..." (Y/N) groaned, walking out of the kitchen to go into the living room and check the locks. "You know I can never decide a movie, that's why you always pick!"

        "Let's do a comedy then." Andrew hummed, opening the rice cooker's lid as it beeped.

        "A comedy? Okay, let's do an Adam Sandler then." (Y/N) hummed. 

        "You know there's other comedy actors other than Adam Sandler, right?" Andrew chuckled, a fake one. "Besides, I thought you said you could never decide on a movie?" 

        "Well, now I decided." (Y/N) huffed, checking the blinds and curtains and locks. "Besides, he's funny! He's got a funny voice and funny lines! I mean, c'mon, his performance in Grown Ups was pretty nice, especially the sequel." 

        "Whatever you say." Andrew chuckled.

        Andrew grabbed two bowls and scoops some rice into each, then topped it with beef tips and gravy. On any normal day, (Y/N) would've complained to him that there needed to be a vegetable as a side, but she was just happy that Andrew was out of bed and standing up on his own for longer periods of time. 

        "Dinner's ready!" Andrew called out. 

        "Okay!" 

        (Y/N) chirped, making sure the final window was locked before closing the curtains. 

        She walked into the dining room and sat down as Andrew poured some lemonade into a cup.

        “Thank you for dinner.” She hummed, accepting the cup Andrew handed her, taking a sip before placing it down onto the table.

        “It’s nothing.” Andrew waved off, sitting down next to her.

        “Doctor Ryan gave me a basket of hot chocolate supplies today, we should make them for our movie night.” (Y/N) suggested. 

        “Are you talking about the scrawny guy that’s way too happy?” Andrew questioned.

        “That’s the one.” (Y/N) smiled. 

        “Ugh…” Andrew groaned, already knowing how extravagant that hot coco basket will be. 

        “It’ll be a waste of money if we don’t use it.” (Y/N) reasoned. 

        “Still…” Andrew sighed.

        Just the thought of another male thinking about her made Andrew feel sick. It didn’t matter if Doctor Ryan was married with kids and her instructor, he still felt annoyed knowing the man got to spend more time with her than he could.

        “I can make it after dinner when our stomachs settle.” (Y/N) hummed, taking a bite of her food and washing it down with her drink. “Don’t worry about the dishes either, I’ll wash them since you cooked dinner tonight—which, by the way, is very good.” 

        Andrew nodded, eating his food silently, looking down at his bowl before speaking.

        “Do you think I’m a bad person?” he questioned.

        (Y/N) frowned, looking up from her bowl. “A bad person?” she contemplated. “What makes you think that?” 

        “It’s not what I think; it’s what you think. Do you think I’m a bad person?” he repeated.

        “I think… if bad people existed, we all would be bad people.” (Y/N) spoke. “And if good people existed, we all would be good people.”

        “Which means…?” Andrew questioned, impatient as he looked at her.

        “There no such thing as a bad person, only doing bad things.” (Y/N) huffed. “You know, that famous saying? It was something along those lines at least.”

        “Right…” he sighed. 

        “Anyways…” (Y/N) yawned, covering her mouth, before resting her cheek on her palm. “Why?”

        “What do you mean ‘why?’” Andrew questioned.

        “What are you thinking about that has you wondering if you’re a bad person?” (Y/N) asked.

        “I’m just curious…” Andrew muttered, shrugging his shoulders.

        “About?” she pried.

        “Do you think…” Andrew hesitated, placing his spoon down in his bowl, before looking at (Y/N). “Do you think it’s okay for someone to do bad things if it’s to protect themselves?”

        “Depends on the circumstances…” (Y/N) hums. “I mean, some things can be forgiven and some can’t.”

        “Don’t worry about the circumstances, just think of it as whole. Can you forgive me for doing bad things if it was to protect myself?” Andrew huffed, annoyed at her deflections.

        (Y/N) paused, thinking. Is he… trying to open up about his past? His crimes? 

        “Well… I think you should do whatever it takes for you to survive.” (Y/N) muttered.

        You can kill someone as long as they tried killing you first, that’s how self-defense works—at least, it’s an excuse for her to feel better about herself. 

        “You wake up with yourself, you go to bed with yourself, you feed yourself, you shower with yourself; you live with yourself for as long as you live, so only you should matter.” (Y/N) spoke, leaning on her hand and closing her eyes. “I think, it’s best to lend help to others once you’re stable yourself.”

        “Right…” Andrew muttered. “So, I’m sorry.” He whispered.

        He leaned over the table and moved her bowl and food away from her head, watching her peaceful face as she kept her eyes closed, before she slumped on the table.

        Andrew stood up from the table, picking up (Y/N)’s phone and using her thumb to unlock it. He grabbed a piece of paper out of his pockets, dialing the numbers in before holding it up to his ear.

        “Ren? I did what you wanted, come get her.” 

        .

        .

        “I’m so glad you came to your senses! You did it last minute, I was worried I’d have to find a place to bury you!” Ren chirped, laughing as he entered the apartment.

        “Shut up…” Andrew muttered, annoyed.

        It hurt. It felt like he betrayed himself more than he betrayed (Y/N). His chest ached, sore from lying to her, but it also burned, knowing that (Y/N) was going to be in the hands of this man now.

        “As promised, you’ll live. I’ll give you 4,000 every month for rent, shipping groceries, online shopping, all that stuff. Just money for whatever you need.” Ren explained. “Remember, so long as you don’t leave the apartment! We don’t need the police finding you after I worked so hard to cover both your and my angel’s tracks! It was hard wiping out that camera footage at the mall, you know?” 

        Ren went around the house, removing all the cameras and microphones for Andrew to live in privacy. 

        Ren took a suitcase out of (Y/N)’s closet and unzipped it, picking up (Y/N)’s unconscious body and placing her in a cradle-like position, setting her down in the suitcase and zipping her up.

        Ren noticed Andrew’s hesitant expression, watching him zip her up so he spoke.

        “She’s claustrophobic, but this is just so none of the neighbors see her.” Ren explained. “I’ll make sure to pull off the side of the road and take her out of the suitcase before I get on the interstate.”

        “You better…” Andrew muttered, watching as Ren grabbed the suitcase’s handles.  

        “Well, this is it. Call me if you need anything.” Ren smiled, handing Andrew a phone out of his pocket. 

        It looked new and pricey, but for all Andrew knows, it could have a spyware on it. He’ll sell it and buy a phone that isn’t hacked instead—but he won’t tell Ren that. 

        “Thanks.” Andrew muttered. 

        “I’ll pay you cash the last of every month in the mail. (Y/N)’s rent is due every first of the month, so just place cash in a envelope and drop it off at the landlord’s mailbox in the front. Purchase your groceries online and all that. You probably know everything else now.” Ren explained. 

        Andrew watched as Ren dragged the suitcase out of the front door, a feeling of dread washing over Andrew as he spoke. 

        “Hey.” 

        Ren turned around, an amused smirk on his face, as if he was challenging Andrew to defy him. “Yes?”

        “Please… just take care of (Y/N).” Andrew muttered, her name feeling like poison to his throat.

        “Of course. I’ve always taken care of her.” Ren smiled. 

        Andrew and Ren had different ideas of ‘care’, but it won’t concern Andrew anymore after today.

        “Bye now!” Ren waved, walking down the apartment steps with the suitcase (Y/N) was in.

        Andrew said nothing, watching him walk away, before he finally left his view. Andrew shut the door, shutting them both out of his life.

        .

        .

        “And that’s how you’re here!” Ren smiled, watching as (Y/N) squirmed and tried to kick, her efforts fruitless as she was strapped to an expensive chair. 

        “Shut up! I hate you! I hate you, cunt!” she screamed, trying to bang her head bang onto the chair, but the straps around her forehead didn’t allow that.

        “There’s no point in screaming; we’re in the middle of nowhere! Have you forgotten where our home is already?” Ren chirped.

        “This isn’t my home!” (Y/N) shouted.

        This is no home. This is Hell, pure Hell as she stared down the Devil. 

        There is no home for her, only settlements until she ups and moves to the next location. This should’ve never happened.

        “How… how did you even find me?” (Y/N) muttered.

        “I’ve been keeping a close eye on your parents. I had an AirTag in their car, so when they left town, it notified me and I followed them.” Ren explained. “They led me right to your apartment! So when they stayed the night, I hired a hitman to kill your parents when they leave town, do whatever so they just controlled an AI car to crash into the gas pump, hence the explosion at the gas station that killed your parents!” Ren beamed, as if the story was something to be proud of.

        Fucking Apple. Whoever made AirTags probably made them under the guise to stalk his wife, or husband, no judgment. 

        “You’re terrible.” (Y/N) muttered.

        She looked around the room, trying to find anything to aid her escape, but it was fruitless. She was stuck in Ren’s bedroom, in a pricey chair with fancy restraints that he no doubt planned for her to be strapped in. 

        She’d be watched while Ren is here, and even if Ren led to go work at his father’s prison that he’ll inherit when his father dies, there’s probably a camera and microphone hiding somewhere in the room to supervise (Y/N) while she’s away.

        She had no way of escaping due to these damn rubber straps preventing her movement, she can’t even tilt her head. The chair was screwed into the ground, preventing her from even lifting up the chair or knocking it over.

        “Why can’t you just leave? Leave me alone!” (Y/N) exclaimed, pissed off. 

        “Oh, my angel. You’ll understand one day that this is all because of my love for you.” Ren cooed, reaching out and cradling his hand on her cheek.

        She tried to snap back and bite his finger, but the straps preventing her from tilting her head to bite him, trapped and felt vulnerable to whatever he wants. 

        “I really don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation, pretty. You do know that I can easily turn you into the police?” Ren smiled.

        “You won’t.” (Y/N) challenged. “You’d miss me too much.”

        “I can just visit you in prison everyday and night. Besides, my father owns the place, so I can do whatever I want.” Ren hummed, smirking as he knew the advantages he has to this situation. 

        (Y/N) frowned, annoyed as she looked away from him.

        If only this chair was a normal wooden chair, then she’d just bang the chair legs down on the ground until they cracked and broke the chair. Or at the very least, alert neighbors in the apartment; but Ren lived in the middle of nowhere. Curse this secluded private town and it’s distance from neighbors—the only time she’ll complain about having privacy.

        Either way, she’s trapped. It’s not like anyone in this town is even aware that she’s back, or would they even care considering her reputation here is worse than a sewer rat’s. If anything, they’d probably say she deserves it. 

        Is this to pay for my sins? (Y/N) thought to herself, shutting her eyes.

        There’s nothing to do but accept the situation. Maybe after a few months or years, he’ll let her out of the chair and she’ll be able to escape after building enough rapport (because she seriously doubts she’ll develop Stockholm Syndrome for this bastard). 

        (Y/N) chuckled, laughing to herself at the bizarreness of the situation. 

        Her father’s kindness to see her turned into her ultimate demise. Or perhaps it was her fault for writing her parents contact information as an emergency contact for her hospitalization. 

        Everything just always seems to come and bite her back in the ass.

        “So what happened with Andrew?” (Y/N) questioned, smiling. “Did you kill him too after he drugged me?” 

        “No, he’s alive.” Ren answered.

        “Shocking.” (Y/N) commented.

        “Well, we did make a deal after all. I don’t go against my word.” Ren smiled.

        “Funny, considering you said you’d protect me; yet you’re the only threat.” (Y/N) scoffed. “You didn’t protect me from Ashley or Penelope either. Some protector you are.”

        “Well I could’ve protected you if you just didn’t run away! You and your silly little brain, angel.” Ren chuckled, smiling as he shook his head, like he was laughing at a toddler. “I am sad to have missed your first murder; but I at least saw your second!” Ren smiled, pulling out some photos of (Y/N) killing Penelope from his pocket, waving it in her face.

        (Y/N) frowned. So this was it, the rest of her life with the man in front of her. He has permanent blackmail on her, so even if she did somehow manage to escape, it’d be hard trying to get a whole new identity once a warrant would be out for her arrest, let alone trying to get a damn car to escape. 

        Damn you, Andrew… (Y/N) thought to herself, though she probably deserves this after killing his sister.

        A Grave for a Grave.

        .

        .

        Maddening. That’s how it felt without her. He hasn’t been able to sleep in three days, or was it four? He already can’t remember. It’s been a month, maybe a month and a half? He can barely get more than 3 hours of sleep a night, tossing and turning and tossing and turning in an endless loop. 

        God, he missed hugging her at night. Only a week of sleeping together in the same bed and he was already hooked on her warmth and softness that’s now permanently gone.

        Andrew’s always considered himself as an introverted guy, but it feels like living Hell by not being able to see her.

        He finds himself re-cooking the meals she’s made, scavenging through her drawers and cooking the recipes she left—but it never tasted like her cooking. 

        He finds himself using her bath products, reminiscing in the familiar scent—but it always missed the scent of just her.

        He finds himself sleeping in her bed alone, only the ghost of her cold touch hugging him, but it provided no warmth or comfort like she did. Even her scent was starting to fade from the sheets. He missed her touch. 

        He finds himself waiting by the front door for her, leaning against the wall, sitting on the floor, peeking out the peephole looking for her; but he knows deep down he won’t see her. He just wanted to see her again. 

        It was his fault after all, he was the one that turned her in. He probably didn’t have much of a choice anyways, it was either that or die, but honestly death seems like a much more bearable situation than having to deal with the burden of loneliness and isolation. 

        Her phone was left on the charger. He had retrieved it from her purse and used it to call Ren and take her away, but he regrets the decision now.

        He managed to crack the password on the fourth day of living without her. It was annoying, but he didn’t have her thumb to unlock it, and it was hard trying to come up with a password since she regularly changed her password as she does with other things in the apartment. 

        After meeting Ren, he understands her paranoia of security.

        He unplugged her phone and looked through her pictures. She barely had any, only pictures of her in high school with who he can only assume were old friends. One had blonde hair with pink highlights and the other had strong muscles and short black hair. 

        The picture was taken from an angle. (Y/N) sat on a couch with a computer and notebooks in her lap as she wrote. Meanwhile, black hair was taking up some of the couch as she leaned on the armrest, glaring at the blonde who intruded on the picture with half of her head in the way. 

        The black hair looked like the brawns, the pink hair looked like the beauty (though Andrew thought [Y/N] was just as pretty, if not more), and (Y/N) looked like the brains. 

        Other pictures included her family farm, some good harvests of the year, pictures of old CD’s she listened to in high school, and old church gatherings.

        Andrew found himself staring at her in the pictures, wondering why he never took a picture with her to remember.

        He looked closer at the church pictures and saw one of the whole church members combined. (Y/N) stood in a blue dress with a white bow on it, and standing a few persons away from her was Ren, staring at her at he wore a white button-up and black slacks.

        That damn man… Andrew thought, annoyed.

        Even in their teen years, he was pestering her.

        He swiped through more photos, finding more of her family farm, before noticing a picture that caught his eye.

        It was a picture of a smaller (Y/N), a few years before her pre-teens, standing next to a wagon filled with a berry harvest. She posed in front of a sign that said (L/N) Family Farm: Fresh is Best below the big font, there was an address.

        12920 N Estrella Lane, 39302, Luna, GE

        Wait a second.

        Andrew plugged the address into the phone maps, coming up with an address 34 hours away. 

        There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation the way he shot up from bed, scrambling to find his shoes. He grabbed a trash bag, piling some clothes, phone charger, and snacks into the bag. He put on a jacket (Y/N) bought him and a disposable mask he found in (Y/N)’s drawers. He picked up his wallet, an envelope of money Ren mailed to him, (Y/N)’s car keys, and something helpful from (Y/N)’s drawer. 

        He locked the door behind him, hopping into (Y/N)’s car Ren left considering he couldn’t trust (Y/N) to drive with him (nor would he allow her to drive anywhere and escape him again). 

        Andrew put the keys into the engine and plugged the (L/N) Family Farms into the car’s GPS. 

        It wouldn’t give him an exact location, but it’s at least a start. If Ren followed (Y/N)’s parents from their farm, then they must live in the same town. It at least gives Andrew a place to start searching. 

        Andrew just has to make a quick stop before he confronts Ren. Hopefully, nothing bad has happened to (Y/N) during this past month.

        .

        .

        “Darla Carving got 8 years for poisoning her husband, under the charge of attempted murder.” Ren explained, sitting on his bed, eating some grilled chicken.

        (Y/N) tuned him out, annoyed as she stared at the wall.

        “Remember how we went to school with her? She used to be an artist, but now she’s just an inmate.” Ren smiled. “But hey, maybe she’ll be the next Van Gough in prison, I’d buy a piece—you’re not listening again.” Ren frowned.

        (Y/N) rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Can’t you just shut up and eat?”

        “Speaking of food…” Ren smiled, setting down his plate onto his nightstand. “It’s time for you to eat!”

        (Y/N) frowned, already clamping her mouth shut, biting her teeth together.

        “Now, now, it’ll be easier for the both of us if you just listen.” Ren smiled.

        “No!” (Y/N) snapped, watching as Ren grabbed a bowl of tomato soup from the dresser.

        “Say ah.” Ren smiled, holding a spoon to (Y/N)’s mouth.

        (Y/N) kept her mouth shut. She would turn her head the other way if it wasn’t for the straps holding her head still.

        Ren gave up trying to gently spoon it into her mouth, before grabbing her chin and forcing her mouth open, jabbing the spoon down her throat, before scooping up more soup and repeating the process.

        Ren finished trying after some scoops, making sure she swallowed before placing the spoon down.

        “See? It doesn’t get any harder, only you make it tough.” Ren smiled, setting the bowl down onto the nightstand.

        (Y/N) grimaced, closing her eyes as she gave him the silent treatment.

        “Soon the Rohyopnol will kick in, then we’ll get you your bath!” Ren cheered.

        The tomato soup was laced with Rohyopnol, it just makes it easy for Ren to carry her around, hold her, and bathe her without (Y/N) trying to escape, considering she’ll be dead asleep.  

        “What pajamas today? Black or purple?” Ren hummed, holding up two pairs of pajamas, both with pants and long sleeves since she’s not allowed to sleep with a blanket in case she tries choking herself (as if she can escape the straps). 

        (Y/N) stayed firm with her silent treatment, ignoring him. She had 30 minutes before the Rohypnol kicks in and she’ll lose consciousness—she plans on spending that time being petty and spiteful. 

        (Y/N) kept her eyes closed, ignoring him like a child would.

        If you can’t see it, it’s not real.

        “Look at me.” Ren snapped, grabbing her lower jaw. “Stop being difficult.”

        (Y/N) kept ignoring him. 

        “I wish you’d just accept your situation. It’s been a month now, can’t we just get along?” Ren frowned.

        (Y/N) mentally rolled her eyes, annoyed.

        At this point, she’ll suffer from muscle dystrophy being stuck in this chair all the time with no exercise. Perhaps she can bargain with Ren on that; have time out of the chair and regain her strength until she can escape. 

        “Listen to me!” Ren exclaimed, desperate for control even with the upperhand in this situation. “Why don’t you ever listen, Angel? Is it really so bad? I could do worse such as—“         

        A shot rang out through the room, Ren collapsing to the floor, hunched over.

        “What the f—“ Ren looked up to be met with the barrel of a gun, Andrew’s holding the trigger before quickly pulling it without any hesitation.

        “You know, you’d think a guy like this would have security or even good quality locks.” Andrew commented, sighing before he looked over at (Y/N)

        (Y/N) froze, unsure if he was a threat or not. He had traded her in, and now he has a gun after turning against Ren. Will he turn on her again?

        “(Y/N)…” Andrew spoke, taking in the sight of her, happy to see her before he noticed the straps on the chair.

        He walked over to her, walking behind and undoing the leather straps attached to the chair, releasing her.

        She stood up, stumbling a bit as she grabbed the nearby nightstand for support. 

        “What the fuck is your issue?!” she spat aggressively, her legs shaking before collapsing onto the ground near Ren’s bleeding corpse. 

        It was a pathetic sight, like watching a newborn fawn try and stand up on their nimble legs. 

        “Get away!” she snapped.

        “(Y/N), shh. It’s okay.” Andrew frowned, concerned as he crouched down to her level.

        “Who do you think you are?! Some hero?” she spat out, hitting his chest. “You think you can just show up and everything is suddenly sunshine and rainbows? What’s your intentions?” 

        “(Y/N), I just wanted to help.” Andrew spoke, fighting her hits, placing the gun in his waistband and grabbing her shoulders. “Hey, listen.”

        “I hate you!” she spat.

        “Can’t you shut up?” Andrew hissed, annoyed. “I made a mistake, okay? I wasn’t thinking, it was my life on the line!” 

        “How can you think you can save me when you’re the one that put me in this situation?!” (Y/N) scoffed in disbelief.

        “I had to do what I had to do!” Andrew snapped. “You said it yourself. ‘It’s yourself for life!’”

        “I didn’t mean trade me in though!” (Y/N) hissed.

        “You would’ve done the same in my shoes!” Andrew hissed. “You killed my sister for your life! I turned you in for my life!” 

        (Y/N) paused, annoyed at how she could see the semblance, even if the circumstances were a bit different. 

        “We’re even now, okay?!” Andrew spat.

        Almost. If anything, it felt like (Y/N) owed Andrew more. He killed her stalker and he saved her, meanwhile all she did was kill his sister and lie to him.

        She’ll take what she can get. She’s not stupid to try and push this on more when she doesn’t have any good cards in her hand.

        “Okay… okay, I get it.” (Y/N) sighed, woozy as she sat down on Ren’s bed.

        She ignored the shiver of disgust that crawled up her spine as she sat down on Ren’s slumber spot. While (Y/N) sat in the chair in the dark, she could hear Ren’s peaceful slumbers as he slept under warm blankets.

        “I… just want you to know, he gave me some Rohypnol.” (Y/N) explained. “It’s gonna kick in eventually, so I can’t do much.”

        It was probably a small pill crushed up and distributed throughout the entire soup, so she probably didn’t drink enough to make her pass out, only enough to be drowsy and possibly caused temporary slow mental processing. 

        Andrew nodded, looking around Ren’s room before rummaging through his nightstand.

        He found a tissue box, some Rohypnol pill capsules, a bottle of lotion, and some polaroids of (Y/N).

        “Ick.” Andrew groaned, rolling his eyes, already guessing what this drawer was used for.

        “What?” (Y/N) questioned, trying to peek over his shoulder.

        “Don’t worry about it…” Andrew muttered, closing the drawer.

        “What are you looking for?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “This.” Andrew smirked, holding up Ren’s wallet.

        How alike they are; they kill someone and they rob them. It’s not the like the dead person will need it anyways.

        “Let’s go.” Andrew spoke.

        “If we drop by the bank, I can use an ATM and draw out money from him.” (Y/N) spoke.

        “You know his username and password?” Andrew questioned.

        “Please. His username is his first and last name, and his password is my birthday.” (Y/N) scoffed.

        “How cute.” Andrew commented sarcastically, stepping over Ren’s lifeless corpse.

        “Not!” (Y/N) snapped, glaring at him.

        Andrew led (Y/N) out of the house, glad that Ren lives on acres upon acres, therefore having no nearby neighbors. 

        “You stole my car?” (Y/N) huffed, walking out of the house as she saw her car parked near the gate.

        “How else did I get here? Public transport?” Andrew scoffed, taking the keys out of his pocket. “I’m driving.”

        “Yeah, duh. If I did, I’d fall asleep behind the wheel.” (Y/N) spoke in a ‘duh’ tone, hopping into the passenger seat.

        “Moody…” Andrew muttered under his breath, annoyed.

        “You’re the one that practically sold me for some money!” (Y/N) snapped. “Of course I’m moody!”

        “And it was for my life.” Andrew added. “Besides that, what’s next? Back to your place?” Andrew questioned.

        (Y/N) paused, thinking. 

        She can’t go back. Penelope’s dead, and even though Ren erased the store’s camera footage, there’s probably a backup file on an ICloud somewhere. Even if the evidence was completely removed, she doesn’t feel safe going back to that city.

        Ren might’ve told someone about her old dwelling, probably his dad, current owner of the jailhouse she was living in for some weeks before Ren bailed her out. If Ren is found dead in his home, (Y/N) would be a major suspect.

        Even if she did decide to go back to that apartment, she doesn’t want to live in that shitty city anymore, not with all the crazy shit that’s happened there.

        She needs to move away. 

        “Wanna go on a roadtrip?” (Y/N) smiled.

        “Where to?” Andrew questioned, confused.

        “Go back to our apartment. We’ll pack up our stuff, sell the car, and take a train.” (Y/N) explained.

        “Why the sudden idea? Are your intrusive thoughts winning over?” Andrew raised an eyebrow, putting the keys into the ignition.

        “Okay, look. You’re stuck with me; and I’m stuck with you. We have too much blackmail on each other—both ends. So we might as well stick together to keep each other quiet.” (Y/N) explained. “It’s too dangerous for us to go back and stay. Not with all the murders recently. They’ll think it’s you since your home city is just a few cities over. And when they find evidence showing it’s me, it’s over for me too. You need me for money; I need you to keep quiet.” 

        “Yeah, sounds about right…” Andrew sighed. “So, an official truce now, right?” 

        “Seal the deal with a kiss?” she questioned, smiling.

        Andrew looked over at her, smirking. “Ah, but I thought you were still throwing a temper tantrum?”

        “I’m over it. You were reasonable.” (Y/N) hummed, smiling. “A few pecks could really help me, though.”

        Andrew smiled, placing his elbow on the glovebox and leaning on it, leaning in and quickly pecking her awaiting lips.

        “Hey!” (Y/N) frowned, unsatisfied with the rushed kiss. 

        “You said a peck." Andrew smirked.

        “You know damn well I didn’t mean that! A real kiss!” she huffed, grabbing him by the collar and kissing his lips more firmly, staying there for a few seconds before pulling away. 

        “Women. You give them what they want and they want more.” Andrew playfully sighed, grinning at her.

        “Ahaha. Get going and drive, chauffeur.” (Y/N) hummed.

        “Yes, ma’am.” Andrew teased, driving out of the driveway. “There’s some chips in the back if you want them. Have a real snack.” 

        “I’m gonna take a nap and sleep off the pills…” (Y/N) spoke. “When I wake up, I can take turns driving next.”

        “Sure.” Andrew smiled.

        As if. He thought, mentally scoffing. There’s no way he’s letting her drive, he’s a gentleman after all!

        “You just sit back and get some shuteye…” Andrew hummed, placing his hand on her thigh while driving.

        .

        .

        “All set?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “All set.” Andrew nodded, smiling. “Granola?” he offered, holding out a wrapped bar as he snacked on one himself.

        “Thanks.” (Y/N) smiled, taking the granola bar in her hands, watching as Andrew swiftly picked up her bags. “Hey! You did that to distract me.”

        “You’re just too slow is all.” Andrew smirked, carrying the luggage to the car.

        “Mm… right.” She smiled, shutting the door and locking it. 

        Andrew prepared the car while (Y/N) turned the apartment keys to the complex owner. She exited, finding Andrew waiting for her in the driver’s seat.

        “Hey, I should be driving. That’s my car.” (Y/N) frowned.

        “Not in 30 minutes. It’ll be someone else’s from Craigslist.” Andrew smiled. “Now hop in before we’re late to meet them.” 

        (Y/N) smiled, getting into the passenger seat. Andrew drove out to a public supermarket to meet the new owner of the car. (Y/N) negotiated with the customer and managed to snag a few thousands for the used car. 

        (Y/N) took a cab with Andrew to the train station, getting a first class booth so that they could have a closing door for privacy, that way nobody noticed their faces.

        “Hey, look. You’re on the news…” Andrew spoke, although not happy for the news as he pointed his phone (he got from Ren) to her.

        “It was only a matter of time for them to find Penelope’s body and the security footage. It must’ve produced a foul smell in that box and—hey! That photo is so unattractive!” (Y/N) exclaimed, cringing at her photo.

        A photo of her three years ago, the photo for her legal driver’s license. Her hair was messy and her eyes had sunken in with black eye bags under them, showing her malnutrition since at the time she was homeless in her car.

        “Yeah, not so pretty compared to you now…” Andrew hummed, holding up the photo to her to compare.

        "Stop that!” (Y/N) huffed, snatching his phone. 

        “I’m just saying!” Andrew chuckled, smiling before it dropped. “Hey, you sure about this?”

        “Don’t worry…” (Y/N) smiled. “Well come back, for Ashley and Hailey. I promised them flowers after all.”

        “You promised them flowers? Even Ashley?” Andrew questioned, surprised.

        “Of course I did.” (Y/N) frowned. “She might’ve been… a specimen, but she was still a human after all. I mean, I’m supposed to be saving lives as a nurse, whether they’re a kid or not.” 

        Andrew nodded, looking at the window and smiling, before changing the subject. “Where we going anyways?”

        “I dunno…” (Y/N) hummed, thinking. “Greenland?”

        “And freeze my ass off?” Andrew huffed. “No.”

        “Don’t you wanna see the northern lights. It’ll be so romantic!” (Y/N) cooed. 

        “Huddling together for warmth like penguins under solar rays?” Andrew smiled, grabbing her waist and pulling her into his side, resting his arm around her shoulder. “Maybe that can be a vacation one day. I don’t feel like starting a fire all the time.”

        “They still have heating there…” (Y/N) pouted.

        “No. No yearly winter.” Andrew spoke firmly.

        “Fine. Iceland?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “We can’t go out of states, dummy. We need passports.” Andrew groaned. “Meaning they’ll discover our identities and we’ll take a vacation to prison instead.” 

        “Let’s take a cruise then.” (Y/N) chirped. “I’m sure not all cruises or boats check passports! Let them leave without us and boom, we stay!” 

        “So persistent.” Andrew hummed. “Okay, maybe. But I don’t want to live in a damn city, I’ll tell you that. Find a town to live in.” 

        “A town where we can see the northern lights.” (Y/N) huffed.

        “Deal.” Andrew smiled. 

        “Seal the deal with a kiss?” (Y/N) questioned.

        Andrew smiled. He’s definitely come to enjoy their promise kisses.

        Andrew leaned in, kissing her soft lips for a few seconds, before pulling away.

        “Sealed.” He murmured.

        “Good.” She smiled, pecking his lips again for extra measures. 

        She rested her head on his chest, looking out the train window at the scenary.

        It doesn’t matter where she lives. She’ll find another  hospital to work at after completing her degree at one of the Treegrowth hospitals for a falsified certificate. It's not the best to becoming a good person, but it's something; however, as long as she has Andrew, she has a feeling things will turn out just fine.

A huge thank you to those who have been following this little book since day one, and a huge thank you to every new reader who just made it here. I truly couldn’t have done this without each and every one of you. All your comments and positivity and criticism helped me tweak my writing to just not mine, but yours.

If you want to read more Andrew Graves x reader stories of mine, congrats! I will be doing an Andrew Graves x Two-Faced! Serial Killer! Reader! I hope to see you there!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, final chapter (current).

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Fae!Danny But Make It Fantasy

I've already made a whole Changeling AU with fae!Danny, but guess what, I have decided not to achieve any level of chill with fae ideas.

We all know Danny is Ghost Kind. Now, what if he is a Fae Prince? A Prince of Winter, to be exact. Imagine all the ice castles (Elsa, I'm looking at you), the snowy lands, northern lights in his crown, a cape made of tiny ornate snowflakes. Crystalline ice swords, skin so white he doesn't even look alive, eyes clear and blue like a frozen lake. Formal gowns, ballrooms, duels and carriages pulled by horses made of snowstorms.

He used to be a changeling, put in place of Dan. Grew up in a village with his parents being witch hunters, or maybe just hunters in general. Meanwhile Dan, a human child whose place he took, grew up in a fae realm, surrounded by magic creatures and miracles.

But Danny couldn't hide he was a fae his whole life. He used to look human when he was a baby, but as the time went by, he started to look more and more fae-like. Jazz was the first to notice it, of course, but this was Danny, a child she practically raised, so she dealt with it. Their parents, though, did not.

Sam and Tucker are in the know, for sure. Sam used this opportunity to learn witchcraft - who is better to learn from than an actual fae? Tucker is a blacksmith, as is his family. The first thing he asked Danny when he discovered he is a fae, was "how in the seven kingdoms are you a fae, and you decided a blacksmith is your best friend?" because, honestly, not even Fentons have so much iron around them as Tucker does.

Now, you may be thinking of where the DC part comes in here.

Well, the Waynes are actually the royal family. Bruce is the King of Gotham, and his children are princes, princesses, and heirs. They are also protecting the country not only by the word of the law, but also from the other, more shady side. I think they should go by Shadows, not Bats, though, since I doubt a name like 'Batman' would fly in the fantasy world.

Constantine is a mage, the strongest one alive, and yet he couldn't care less for his uniqueness if he tried for a week. Diana is the Queen of Themyskira, of course. I think Krypton should be its own country or a continent, ruled by the family of El. Although Jon is the first heir to a throne, due to Kon being, well, a bastard in terms of medieval customs.

After Danny's race is found out by his parents, he leaves for the fae realm, and he offers his friends and his sister to join him. Tucker refuses, Sam and Jazz take him up on that, but Sam leaves shortly after - she mostly used it to get away from her overbearing parents. She is now a witch who lives in the woods all alone, and no one can find her. She keeps contact with Danny, though. Jazz is traveling both the fae and the human realms, just having fun with it.

Jason is part-fae. After he died, a cult has abducted his body - the cult leader being Ra's, of course - and used it for an experiment. They used some fae magic to bring him back, or, maybe, they have tried to merge a fae and a human, creating a chimera. This was the first option of Ra's trying to get closer to Bruce in order to take power. It was not a very successful option since both Jason and whatever was left of the fae inside him decided not to obey the madman.

Damian was... slightly more successful. He was not merged with anything, but his development was magically enhanced.

And now, while Danny is back in the fae realm and he is a crowned Prince of Winter, Clockwork has a problem. He knows humans are afraid of fae, but this is not a very productive way to go. And there is a timeline somewhere there that can fix it.

Of course, Danny is right in the middle of that timeline. Now, Clockwork just needs to find a way to help Danny make an alliance with humans.

[icarusredwings]

I have problems incorporating Ellie because the comics/movie timeline does not link up, and I've had a hell of a time fixing the Xmen movie/Logan Timeline (because it has to make sense in my story damn it) I'd have to retcon wade banging Carmelita Camacho when he was broken up with Vanessa, and how do you do that tastefully?

So what is your opinion on how to do this?

Does it work in cannon?

Thoughts in general?

Okay so- Canonly to the movieverse, It's said that Ellie (Eleanor camacho) will not be in this universe, this is probably because Ryan doesn't like the idea of dipping on his daughter seeing in many comic universes, while he does take in Ellie he quickly realizes how crap of a parent he is, always on the run, always in danger, and he dosn't want her in danger (most times) so he leaves her with an adoptive family. He visits often, gives her a phone and tells her to call him any day or night for anything at all and he'll awnser, he plays with her often but has to leave half way through almost every time, her adoptive parents sometimes dislike Wade (for obvious reasons) but they let him come with them trick or treating and to her birthday party.

In the comics Ellie also is a big fan of Spiderman and peter meets Ellie a few times, saying he wasnt aware Wade even had kids, in which he responds that he wasnt either until a couple years ago. This is said as a joke since Ellie is only about 6 when this is said, but its true, Ellie was already born by the time he knew anything about her existence.

He even told her mother that she couldn't possibly be his because she's too beautiful. All in all, you can see him struggling so hard to balance his mental health, his work, his daughter, and just trying to live enough FOR her. She becomes his anchor, but really... really.. struggles to meet the standard of a "good father." To us, we can see how hard he's trying, but Ellie, her father, lies, doesn't come when he says he will, and all an all? Gave her away. It's a gorgeous story, really, depending on which one you read. Older Ellie eventually takes on the legacy of Deadpool in one universe and tells people loud and proud that she's Ellie Wilson and that she IS deadpool (similar to how Laura IS Wolverine).

Alright. Canon done and done.

Now. As the Board of Headcanons thoughts and opinions.

Yes- Ellie would be conceived during the time Vanessa and him are broken up, so somewhere between movie 2 and 3. I *Think* that it's implied that Wade went back to make Vanessa alive again, shooting himself in wolverine orgins, trying to kill baby hitler but failing, etc and then its implied (I think) that Cable goes back home after that seeing as in the 3rd movie the TVA says that he abused his powers with it and Wade mentions that he dosn't have it anymore. That he "smashed it" or something but Wade is a known liar. He probably returned it to Cable (or idk maybe he really did wreck it. Dropped it off the freeway or something- but then they probably could just fix it again idk) so he could go home to his daughter.

Im not entirely sure on the deadpool movieverse timeline, but I wanna say it's a good 6 years in between movies / how long he's been broken up with Vanessa? So yes, they totally could have had Ellie in the plot since Carmelita was a hookup. One that kind of was a bit Eeehhh if you ask me anyway since she only does it because she thinks she's about to die and wants to have sex again before that. He takes off his mask, and she runs off, probably leaving Wade feeling way worse then before hand.

Now I haven't read this specific comic, but she claims that she couldn't find deadpool for the entire pregnancy (accurate) and wanted to give Ellie up for adoption or she wanted child support (?) So Wade took her instead.

You could very easily label her as a sympathy/ rebound hook up from Vanessa but again, movie would be more complicated if he came back to vanessa with a whole kid so thats why they decided to keep her out (and child acting laws/pay probably)

There would infact have to be a whole argument of "Wade where the fuck did you get a kid!?" "Uhhhh shes mine" "no take her back where you found her thats someones daughter you nutcase!" "No no- I mean... shes literally mine.."

Which would do well inna fic where Vanessa and Wade stay broken up, because If my ex boyfriend had a whole kid with someone else I doubt it would be easy to get back together- but if you want it to where Vanessa is still together-ish with Wade then you will have to do something where Vanessa becomes kind of like a step mom.

With how young Ellie is- you could probably write it to where she fully believes V is her mom in the first place. The timeline makes sense that way, I think. You would just have to work out the whole "My boyfriend is having a massive mental identity crisis and is extremely depressed to the point he's neglecting his daughter"

And THAT would be the issue. Does Wade neglect Ellie sometimes? Yes. Is it for her own good? Yes. Would he EVER do anything to personally hurt Ellie? You're out of your god damn mind if you think yes. He does not want to be like his father so he would never hit her. Shout at her? Sure. Regret it? Instantly.

I also can't see Vanessa leaving Wade in such a dark place with Ellie and Al either. She definitely wouldn't leave a child in a home where she wouldn't he cared for- So you would have to have V take Ellie which would lead to Wade being MORE depressed, and maybe thats why he's trying to get his life together so badly? To get his daughter back?

Because normal dads have normal jobs right? Hence the car salesman gig. Maybe hes saving up to move to somewhere so Els and him can have a cleaner, safer, bigger apartment because Obviously sharing a bed with Al makes Vanessa look at him with somewhat suprise and pity. V would want him to get a place where Els can sleep safely and have her own space. Even if its their own apartment and wade gives Els the room and he sleeps on the couch, as long as shes his priority.

V taking Ellie from him would be a major eye opener for him to get his shit together.

(He also would probably call her all the time to talk to ellie and demand that Ellie dosn't meet Vs boyfriends or hook ups because HE'S her dad, not them, he'd kill a bitch if Ellie called them dad)

After the movie, when Logan and Laura are there, Wade can look at her and ask if he can have Ellie back now, and she tells him "Lets start with weekends." Because she can tell just how much he's actually gotten it together but hes not quite ready to have her full time again.

As time goes on with Logan, They would eventually have to move but yes, in about 6 months time he would get Ellie back and have his little family that consistents of a mommy, 2 daddys, a dog, 3 daughters, and a grandma.

[illunicae]

What Could He Do? Should Have Been a Father But he never even made it to his twenties

The title is deceivingly sad, I promise this is just some pure father's day fluff that just happens to be set in the Kraang apocalypse timeline. (Ao3)

Pairing: Donnie x Reader

TWs: None really, though it does take place in the kraang apocalypse

Happy Father's Day to everyone celebrating.

You often imagined these days in a world where the sun wasn’t bleeding red. Where the green trees still stood proud against the winds and the air was crisp with summer breezes. You imagined taking your daughter to the park where she would sit on her father’s shoulders and point at every little thing that caught her attention.

The view outside your window may not be the most inspiring sight, but truthfully all you needed today was your family. With them, you could pretend everything was all right.

“Mamma! Mamma!” Your daughter comes racing around the corner of the hall. When she reaches you she goes quiet, “Is papa asleep now?” Lenore asks with a whisper.

You smile warmly and nod. It had been a bit of a chore, but with a little convincing and literal dragging, you managed to pull your stubborn husband out of his lab for some much needed rest. Donnie claimed he wasn’t tired, but the moment his head hit that pillow he was out like a light. “Yes, he’s asleep right now.”

“Perfect.” Lenore grins and gets a gleam in her eye that matches her father’s perfectly. You really should have known you’d have two mad scientists running around. 

“My light, what are you planning?” You ask. 

Lenore grins, her eyes shining as she grabs your hand and begins pulling you down the hall. She pulls you down a familiar stretch and into the lab as the doors open with a hiss. She pulls you through the lab to a back corner, her little tail wagging the whole time.

When she finally lets go of your hand she speaks. “I found something and I wanna give it to papa today, but I needed him out of the lab.” She explains as she kneels down and grabs a box out from under her desk, which is messy with blueprints and parts. The box is worn but on it you can see your daughter’s handwriting. Papa Keep Out!

“What did you find?” You ask softly and curious.

Lenore freezes for a moment before turning with a sheepish grin. Now you’re slightly concerned. “Please don’t be mad, Mamma.” She pauses a moment before taking a breath and spitting it out like a curse. “But I went into the city.” 

Your eyes went wide. “You what? You know that’s incredibly dangerous. When did you? Why?”

“Cj was with me, we were fine.” Lenore says. 

“You’re both only 10 years old!” You exclaim, “You can’t run off on your own. And you know you’re now supposed to go into the city.”

“But if I didn’t I wouldn’t have found this!” Lenore explains and opens the box. “I think it might have been papa’s from… the Before.”

Your heart leaps into your throat and you choke on a gasp when you look down and see what was in the box. A million thoughts raced through your head trying to make sense of what you were seeing. Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks as your throat runs dry. “Shelldon?” 

The name is a broken whisper on your tongue as you kneel down next to your daughter to get a better look at the drone in the box. One of his rotors is missing and he looks incomplete, but it is, without a doubt, Shelldon. You thought you’d never see him again. Donnie had been in the middle of rebuilding him when the Kraang attacked. They had lost a lot of stuff from the lair that day, including Shelldon.

You gently pull the little drone out of the box and glance to your daughter for an answer. 

“I found him under the city. We were exploring. We were just looking for old tech, I wanted to bring something back for papa. We found this old place that looked like it was half caved in. I found the drone under some rubble. It looked like something papa would make, so I brought it back. I’ve been fixing it. I wanna surprise him with it.” Lenore explains as she twists and plays with her fingers.

You laugh as some happy tears slip down your cheeks and you rub your thumb over the little drone head. Your smile is bright as you look up and pull your daughter into a hug. “Oh my little light, you are full of surprises.”

Together the two of you work to fix the rest of Shelldon before Donnie wakes up from his forced nap. While working you share a few stories with your daughter about the little drone. She’s particularly fond of the one where Shelldon ran away to join the Purple Dragons. The stories only work to build Lenore’s excitement and she works fast, both eager to meet Shelldon and surprise her father. 

“Moment of truth.” Lenore whispers as she closes up the battery port and makes sure everything is in the right place. She nods to you, and you tentatively reach out and press the little on button. Slowly you see the glowing red eye “blink” open. You can’t school the grin on your face as Shelldon wakes up and looks at you.

“(Y/n)?” 

“Hey Shelly.” You smile and pet his head softly. His rotors jump to life as he speeds off the desk, nearly sending you stumbling backward as you catch him against your chest. 

“Mom!” It’s a hug you never believed you'd feel again as you hug your robotic son. When he pulls away and hovers in the air before you, his head tilts. “You’ve gotten older. So much older.” 

You nod. “Yeah a lot’s happened Shelly.” You gesture for your daughter to join your side. She steps closer with a shy grin. “But first I’d like to introduce you to Lenore. My daughter…your younger sister.”

Lenore waves and Shelldon’s eyes brighten as he swoops down to be face to face. “Woah!” He waves his front rotor. “Hi! I’m Shelldon.” Lenore’s grin grows as she too says hi.

Shelldon and Lenore hit it off immediately. Lenore is fascinated with the little drone and Shelldon asks Lenore lots of questions. It does funny things to your heart watching your son and daughter interact. 

“My little light, I’m going to go get your father now, are you ready?” You ask. Lenore nods her head enthusiastically. Shelldon’s rotors whirl with excitement as well. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” You laugh and step out of the lab.

Your heart is racing with excitement as you quickly travel the halls leading back to your room. When you get there the door is opening up and a still half asleep looking Donnie is stumbling out, but for the most part he looks well rested. 

“When you coerced me to bed I was under the impression that you’d be joining me.” He mumbles when he sees you.

You chuckle and straighten his mask. “Sorry Dove, I was helping Lenore with something.” 

He perks up a little at that. “Oh? Pray tell what it is you two were working on.” 

Shaking your head, you grin up at your husband. “I’m afraid that is a surprise our little light has put together for you. So if you would follow me, I’d told her I would retrieve you.” 

Donnie raises an eyebrow as your offered arm and follows you through the halls. He picks up on the familiar path to the lab right away. “Ah. Is that why you wanted me out of the lab so badly?” He teases.

“It was a part of it maybe, but you really did need the rest.” You shrug. “Killing two birds with one stone.” Donnie hums as you reach out at tap a few times against the door of the lab. You can hear your daughter’s hushed voice whispering before she calls out for you to enter and the doors slide open.

Lenore is standing there in the middle of the lab, her hands slipped into the pockets of her overalls and her goggles resting atop her head. She truly looks like a carbon copy of your husband. Hovering by her side is Shelldon who looks five seconds from running Donnie over.

Donnie has frozen stiff by your side as he sets his gaze on Shelldon. You can practically see the thoughts turning in his head and the emotions swirling in his eyes. “Shelldon?” Like you, the name is barely a whisper on his lips. “How?”

“Dee!” Shelldon shouts and races forward. Also like you, Donnie’s arms automatically wrap around the small drone. 

“How?” Donnie asks louder.

Lenore steps up to answer. “I found him. I had a feeling he was yours from the Before. So I fixed him up the past few weeks.” She explains.

Donnie’s eyes are wide as he looks between Lenore and Shelldon. His gaze falls back to you and you just smile and nod. “This was all your daughter, I had no idea until a few hours earlier.”

His grip tightens on Shelldon. “Shelldon. Shelldon.” All Donnie could do is repeat the name like a mantra, like he can’t quite believe it’s real. 

“I missed you too Dad.” Shelldon says, resting his head on Donnie’s shoulder. The two stay in silence for a moment as Donnie takes it all in. You stand beside Lenore with your hand on her shoulder as she watches the interaction while her tail wags. 

“You did good, my light.” You whisper to her. 

“I like seeing him happy. I like seeing you both happy.” Lenore says as she turns to you. You smile and bring her into a hug. When you part, Donnie has also let go of Shelldon to inspect the work Lenore did, to which Shelldon shows off with pride. 

Donnie glances at Lenore, who stands there beside you fiddling with her hands. He takes a step toward her and kneels down to pull her into a tight hug. “Thank you.” 

“Happy Father’s day, papa.” Lenore responds as she hugs him back just as tightly. Both you and Shelldon are pulled into the hug as well and the four of you hold onto each other tightly. Your family is one hundred percent complete now: your son and daughter in your arms and your husband holding you close. Peace is a rare treat these years, and you’re determined to hold onto this moment for as long as you can. 

Maybe you do dream about the memories you’ll never have: walks in the park with your children, lazy days in, board game nights, walking your daughter to her first day of school. But those will just be dreams. Right here and now is all you need.

[sserpente]

Memories to Enemies 🎃

Synopsis: The TVA is no more—not like it was before, anyway. When the multiverse breaks free, Loki finds himself back where he belongs, on the verge of claiming the throne of Midgard and this time… this time he finishes what he started. But while he’s gained so much, he’s lost even more, for there was one thing the chaos of the timelines had not fixed—it hasn’t brought you back to him. You, the mortal he had refused to fall for until he realised it was too late all along. He never stopped searching for you after Thanos snapped his fingers and now, with so many timelines at the tip of his fingers and a tempad in his pocket… you were out there somewhere and he will find you. But when he finally does… he realises that not only are you the leader of the very rebels aiming to end his ruling, you are a Variant. And you don’t remember him.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN, people! 🎃 Requests from two anons. There are no spoilers for Season 2 in this. I’ll have some more spooky Halloween Imagines coming up this week (I hope), I just didn’t manage to get any writing done as I had initially planned because I spent the whole weekend queueing at Comic Con, haha!

Words: 2407 Warnings: smut

Additional NSFW warnings: edging, very light dub-con

“The rebels are causing trouble again, my king.”

“Which is to say you are unable to deal with a bunch of disobedient humans?” Loki looked up, legs spread on the makeshift throne in what used to be Stark Tower. He lifted his chin, his menacing glare all but intimidating the former politician, now reduced to nothing more than a lackey.

“N-no, of course not. I just thought you should know. They… they made it to the lower levels of the tower last night.”

Loki narrowed his eyes, leaning forward a little. “Who did?”

“The rebels, their leader… we caught her face on camera but… security managed to overwhelm them. I believe they were trying to plant explosives somewhere in the building.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re being held in the cellars.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “You should have led with that, you fool. Send them up. No… bring me their leader. I believe it is time we have a little chat about where her… loyalties lie.”

The politician nodded and excused himself. Silence filled the room after he left and Loki sat back again and sighed. Those rebels were hardly a threat to him but if they had made it to the tower… he would have to up his game and patch the holes in his security. A spell or two should suffice. Possibly something that would make any uninvited guest grow mushrooms all over their body should they trespass.

If only… he sighed once more. If only he had you by his side. You had always loved this time of the year, made him hand out sweets for children and carve out pumpkins. After all this madness… he still had not found you again. You had been snapped away in the sacred timeline, so he had found out… and even though the now-forgotten Avengers had reversed the titan’s doing, you remained unfound, out of his reach. Wherever you were… he would tear every single timeline apart until he had you back by his side. Would you be overjoyed, to see him where he belonged? On the throne, ruling as he was meant to be?

“The prisoner, my king.” The politician returned after the metal elevator doors swung open yet again, dragging with him a young woman who carried herself quite regally despite her predicament. She lifted her head, her hair revealing her face…

Loki’s face dropped. It was you. You… you were the rebel foolishly trying to put an end to his reign? Desperation and relief paired with anger and disappointment, the sadness that had been residing deep in his heart after he had lost you not quite going away. Something was off.

“Leave her here. Get out.”

“No security, my king?”

“I can handle a mortal woman. Now get out.”

The politician nodded and left without another word all the while you kept on staring at Loki as if you were ready to plunge a dagger into his chest any moment. You probably were—and it broke his heart a lot more than he would have liked to admit.

Your eyes widened when he spoke your name. “So you already know me then.”

“Know you? I have been looking for you for years, pet.”

You blinked. “Pet?”

Loki’s face fell when he realised. You did not know. You did not recognise him. You did not… love him yet. It mattered little, now did it? He would make you love him again, he would restore your memories. Were you a Variant? Had you met him? Had Thanos’ horrors taken your memories? He had to find out, needed to find out.

“You will not believe me, of course. But you were in love with me. I lost you when Thanos snapped his fingers. My path, too, changed. That is a story for another time. Come here, pet. It is so good to see you,” he purred.

Containing his emotions and his excitement had never been so difficult. He all but longed to jump up from his throne and sweep you up into his arms, holding you close until you struggled to breathe. But he didn’t. He wanted you to come to him. Only you remained frozen in place. He could practically feel the defiance radiating from you.

“I’m not falling for your stupid tricks, Loki.”

The God of Mischief smirked. “Would you like me to prove it, pet? Ah, let’s see… I just so happen to know you love Halloween. Carving out pumpkins… handing out sweets to children… watching scary films and eating this disgusting snack you call popcorn… and of course, how could I forget, the hot chocolate with small marshmallows and whipped cream on top? It’s reserved only for months that have the letter ‘r’ in them, no?”

Loki watched with great satisfaction how your lips parted in shock. He stood, taking a step forward. “What else… ah…” He tilted his head. “There is a particularly sweet and sensitive spot on your body that has you absolutely feral for your lover. It is… right… here.” He took another step and brought his hand up to brush his thumb over the spot right below your ear. You shivered, clenching your jaw.

“Lies… y-you’re… you’re tricking me.”

“No tricks,” he purred, “only treats.”

To Hel with the restraint. With a low growl, Loki pulled you close, lifting you off your feet. Your rather pathetic resistance died quickly once you realised that you weren’t going anywhere. Loki was too strong—you’d do well to save your strength for when it truly mattered. But… did you want to?

Why, on Earth, was there a part of you that enjoyed his touch? The way he looked at you… so full of hope and lust… that could not be acted, could it? To win over the leader of the rebellion, make her compliant… was that his plan? Or was he telling the truth?

And if he was, then what would have ridden you to dedicate your life to stopping him at all cost? Heavens, last night, you had attempted an assassination.

Loki put you back down on your feet once you reached his bedroom. He had redecorated, of course. Everything was green and gold, even his bed sheets. It looked… beautiful. Homely, almost and faintly familiar.

A shiver brought you back from the depths of your mind when Loki sneaked his hand under your shirt, slowly pushing it up.

“Do you truly think it’s a coincidence you react this way to me?” He tilted his head, smirking when you flinched at his fingertips ghosting over your bare stomach. He was right. He was so right and you hated it. Part of you wanted him—right here and now. The other part was seething and then, yet another… wanted to give in to his advances out of curiosity.

“Why… why don’t I remember then?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, pet. We will restore your memories. You could be a Variant—a version of yourself from another timeline who has not yet met me. We will worry about this later. I missed you.”

He sounded so… genuine, so full of relief. It was not hard to believe him. But how could you? You hated this man, you loathed how he had taken Earth for himself and declared himself its ruler… you would never kneel before him… right?

Why were you questioning yourself? Perhaps… perhaps it was for when you gazed into his blue eyes, you detected just how troubled his soul was. There was more to this than tyranny. More than a hunger for power.

You ceased to resist when he pulled your shirt off of you. Mesmerised, dazed… perhaps even charmed, you lifted your arms for him to remove it and then allowed him to make short work of your trousers. Only a few more moments passed until you stood completely naked before him, breathing heavily.

His kiss was soft when he held your chin with two fingers, almost as if testing the waters. Your eyes… your eyes fell shut. Why… how did this feel so good?

“Give in to me, pet. Let me show you.”

You bit your lower lip. “I’m supposed to hate you.”

He chuckled. “Why yes… We can speak about your little rebellion after I have had my fill of you. You always longed to be by my side, pet. What changed?”

“I don’t know you.” And perhaps that was the reason. You did not know him. Did not yet see behind the mask. Would things be different if you did? You could have tried to kill him the very moment you stepped out of the elevator. So why hadn’t you? Would you, under different circumstances, support his cause? Aid in his rule? Rule… by his side? That was such a silly thought, wasn’t it?

And yet… even though the arrogant god kept calling you his pet… the way he looked at you made you feel like he regarded you as his equal. Maybe your subconscious knew that there was more to it. Maybe your soul had recognised him.

“Then I will make you know me again. You, my darling, are the one good thing that has ever happened to me. I will not give you up.”

You swallowed, unsure of whether you should regret the words that left your lips next. “S-show me.”

“With pleasure.” Loki smirked, lifting you up once more. The warm leather of his armour against your naked skin made you whimper but it was gone within a heartbeat, melted off his body in a green hue of his magic. It felt tingly, familiar… as if you’d felt it a million times before.

The God of Mischief crawled above you, spreading your legs as he did. Skin against skin, he towered above you like the king he was, his raven hair framing his handsome face. You resisted the urge to reach up and stroke his cheek—just about, for when he leaned down and assaulted your neck with his lips, you dug your nails into the soft bed sheets instead, fighting, desperately, for composure your body was eager to give up.

Every touch, every kiss… it felt right. And you were craving more.

A gasp escaped your lips when Loki sank his length into you with but one deep stroke—it was both out of pure bliss at his size and surprise at how wet you were. How had him undressing you slowly done that?

Deep and languid thrusts soon drove you to the brink of madness. No one… no one had ever fucked you as well as Loki was fucking you right now, and the fact that he seemed to know exactly what turned you on almost filled you with fear.

The intense eye contact, the gentle touches, the soft dominance radiating from him… without a doubt he would pin you against the bed if you so much as attempted to flip around and ride him instead without… without asking for permission?

You whimpered at the thought, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You were close already. Loki was working his magic… firm and yet gentle, you felt it teasing your clit, applying just enough pressure to bring you closer and closer to climax. Once he had you there, right on the edge, the delicious pressure eased, his rhythm speeding up.

“You’re enjoying it…” Loki purred—his tone smug, if anything. You groaned.

And then, once again… he pushed you toward that blissful cliff only to stop—again—right before you could fall. You realised soon enough what he was doing. He was edging you. No one… no one knew about your filthiest desires and kinks. So how did he? He really was telling the truth, wasn’t he?

You pretended to hate this but you loved it… loved how he was in control of your pleasure, able to take it away if he so wished… urgh.

“What is it, pet, hmm? Did you want something?” His strokes were relentless—how he managed not to rut into you like a beast you had no fucking clue.

“P-please…” you choked out, “…let me cum.”

Loki tilted his head. “I think you can do better than that.”

Another grunt on your end but this time, you were ready to throw hands—only the God of Mischief above you didn’t let you. The invisible force tormenting your clit wrapped around your wrists like invisible shackles, holding them in place.

“Please…” you repeated, “…I need to cum. Stop… teasing me…”

“Let me hear it one more time, pet. Scream for me.”

A groan of frustration escaped your lips. All helpless beneath him, there was nothing you could do but endure his torturing treatment. Your toes curled, that all too familiar knot in your lower stomach tightening…

“Oh, fuck, please, please, PLEASE! Just… LET ME CUM ALREADY!” Loki chuckled—he chuckled and then, finally, the delicious pressure on your clit returned. And this time… it didn’t stop again. You tensed up, all air knocked from your lungs as your orgasm washed over you. Contracting around Loki’s cock who did not stop rocking into you for a second, fucking you right through your moment of utter bliss until he too, came.

Loki’s moans were quite possibly the sexiest thing you had ever heard as he buried himself inside of you as deep as he could, coating your walls with his seed, twitching and jerking.

He rested his forehead against yours then, eyes closed—content, at ease… and so unlike what you had expected from a tyrannical ruler.

This… it had felt like your bodies were made for each other. Perhaps they were.

“I want to remember. I want you to prove to me that you’re not the evil tyrant I imagine you to be,” you said, breaking the silence.

Loki chuckled. “Hmm… ever so demanding, pet.”

“Why are you calling me that?”

“Because it turns you feral, am I not right?”

You bit your lower lip. Yes, damn it, he was right.

“We will find a way to restore your memories, I swear it. You are mine.” You shivered when he spoke your name. “You are the very reason I am not a tyrant. Whatever you see, whatever you believe… Midgard is in good hands—it is your home realm, after all.”

“So I’ll just have to trust your word? The word of a Trickster?”

Loki smirked. He knew. He knew that your heart already did.

"Yes. Now then... shall we carve a pumpkin together, pet?"

A/N: Party hard tonight! 🎃